#but he doesn't set out to be Mean just for the sake of it

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Galileo Galilei Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies. Not proofread.

(Who...?)

I wanted to open my eyes to see whose cold hand was touching my forehead, but my body refused to move, and I slipped into unconsciousness once more.

After checking Mitsuki’s condition, Galileo returned to his room and stood there for a while.

Galileo: “........”

After hesitating, he opened a drawer on his desk and took out a worn-out origami crane.

Galileo: “I thought as much...”

The scar on Mitsuki’s forehead, which he had just seen, and the story he heard last night about the origami cranes, triggered a memory in Galileo’s mind.

It was from the time when he traveled through various countries and eras, using the door.

When he arrived in a certain eastern country, he witnessed a scene where a vehicle was about to hit a girl.

Realizing that the girl wouldn’t survive, his body moved on its own. Before he knew it, he was holding the girl in his arms and lying on the roadside.

Girl: “Thank you, big brother. You’re my lifesaver.”

Although he had caused her a slight injury on her forehead, the girl smiled, and the origami crane she gave him as thanks was still in his hand to this day.

Galileo: “The girl I helped back then was Mitsuki.”

Galileo: "That was an event from when I traveled to the future, which means Mitsuki came from the future using that door in the mansion."

With the strange fate involving Mitsuki playing out in his mind, Galileo couldn't help but sigh as he sensed his own fate intertwined with hers.

Galileo: "Even if she doesn't have any special powers, it seems she's still the woman of destiny."

Galileo: "How ironic."

His self-deprecating murmur faded away into the room.

Mitsuki: "Mn..."

When I woke up, the sun was already setting.

I moved slightly despite the lingering heaviness in my body and noticed something gently resting on my forehead.

(Ice pack? Did someone take care of me?)

(Was it Drake? Or maybe...)

At that moment, I heard a knock.

Galileo: "Are you awake?"

Galileo entered, holding a fresh ice pack.

Mitsuki: "Were you the one taking care of me?"

Galileo: "You got injured because of me."

Galileo: "It would be embarrassing if you fell ill because of that."

He said this before I could respond, and a small smile escaped my lips.

(This guy really has a strong sense of duty.)

But whether it was out of obligation or genuine concern, it was heartwarming to have someone look after me.

Mitsuki: "Thank you, Galileo."

Galileo: "........."

He accepted my thanks silently and approached the bed.

My heart raced wildly in my chest as he removed the ice pack and placed his hand on my forehead.

(This is the gentle, cold hand I felt while I was asleep earlier.)

Galileo: "It looks like you're recovering enough to speak, but you still have a fever."

Galileo: "Rest a little longer."

Mitsuki: "Okay. Thank you."

After placing the medicine and drinks he brought on the table, he quietly left the room.

Though I was alone again, I didn't feel as helpless as earlier.

(My chest somehow feels warm.)

(Is it because he was here with me?)

Feeling calm this time, I drifted into another sleep.

A few days later, my health had fully recovered, and I resumed spending my days with him.

We passed through the door and found ourselves on another moonlit night, and each time, I witnessed him struggling under the miasma.

That night, I reflected on the various times I had seen Galileo.

(Why does he keep going out on nights of lunar eclipses?)

All I knew was that he was looking for something, but I still didn't know what it was.

Even though he was suffering, he took some time to recover and then traveled again.

Realizing that he was repeating such actions, I got worried.

(I can't bear to see him like that. I want to stop him for his sake.)

Every time I got to know him better, I found myself unsure of what to call the emotions I had towards him.

He was a frightening man with intense anger hidden beneath an icy, cold facade. Yet he was also compassionate, engraving his sorrow and pain onto himself.

(Seeing him like that is painful.)

Despite aspiring to destroy the world, he tried to help his brethren and even took care of me.

(He has his kind side too.)

Each of these extreme aspects seemed to be part of his truth.

(The way he appears changes from time to time, like the phases of the moon.)

But I still felt like I hadn't discovered the true "him" yet. Just then, I heard footsteps from outside the room.

Curious, I stepped out of the room to find him and Sidereus getting ready to go outside.

Mitsuki: "Galileo, are you going out at this hour?"

Galileo: "Yeah. Sidereus finds this place too confining."

Galileo: "Besides, the sky is clear tonight."

I noticed he was carrying a telescope in his arms.

(Maybe he's going stargazing while walking Sidereus.)

Suddenly, curiosity piqued my interest.

Mitsuki: "Can I come with you?"

Galileo: "Is that to get to know me better?"

Mitsuki: "Yes. You said you wouldn't hide or run away from me, remember?"

While it's true that I want to understand the real him, I'm also intrigued by his personal life.

After a brief moment of silence, Galileo spoke up.

Galileo: "It's your choice."

(Does that mean it's okay for me to go with them?)

Mitsuki: "Then, I'll go with you."

I quickly got ready and followed them until we arrived at a flower field.

Sidereus: *Bark! Bark!*

Sidereus ran around happily in the wide-open field.

Smiling at his puppy-like innocence, I looked at the sky to see the crescent moon and stars sparkling like gems.

Mitsuki: "There are so many stars out tonight."

Galileo: "Yeah. There are no clouds today, so it's the perfect time for stargazing."

He chose a spot and swiftly assembled the telescope.

Once everything was set up, he peered through the lens, occasionally lifting his head to gaze at the night sky.

For some reason, as I gazed at his profile, I found myself captivated by his eyes.

(Is this how he looks when he's stargazing?)

His amethyst eyes were filled with passionate longing, as if yearning for something unattainable in the distance, evoking a sense of melancholy.

(His eyes are really beautiful.)

I found myself admiring his eyes more than the stars.

Galileo: "Want to take a look?"

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Galileo: "You've been glancing at me since earlier. Isn't that because you also want to see the stars?"

Mitsuki: "Yeah! I'd love to take a look!"

(Thank goodness he didn't notice I was admiring him.)

I stood in front of the telescope, feeling relieved inside.

It was my first time stargazing through a telescope, so I was really excited.

Mitsuki: "Huh? It's blurry. I can't see well."

Thinking I might have messed something up, I tried to adjust the focus, but...

Galileo: "Let me see."

(…....)

He leaned over me from behind, his warmth enveloping me.

As he adjusted the focus, my heart beat loudly.

(My heartbeat is so loud.)

(Why am I feeling so nervous?)

Galileo: "There, try looking now."

Mitsuki: "Ah..."

Galileo gently guided my hand to the telescope.

My cheeks flushed as I peered through the lens, feeling the warmth of his cold hand.

Mitsuki: "It's beautiful..."

I sighed in awe, seeing the stars before me.

I glanced up and saw Galileo looking at the stars with a serene expression.

Galileo: "No matter the era, the brilliance of the stars remains unchanged."

Galileo: "They illuminate everything on Earth, regardless of hatred or sorrow, urging us not to turn away from the truth."

(Truth...)

His words stirred something within me, reminding me of certain words.

------------Flashback-----------

Galileo: "Fine. If you're going to speak as if you understand everything, then go and see it with your own eyes."

Galileo: "See with your own eyes what I am trying to accomplish and what my true desires are."

---------Flashback Ends--------

(One of the few things I've learned about Galileo is his belief in confirming the truth with his own eyes.)

“But why have you not observed this instead of reducing yourself to having to believe the tales of others? Why not see it with your own eyes?”

The words from the book he lent me echoed in my mind.

(He's someone who seeks the truth with his own eyes.)

(Huh? Didn't I have a conversation about someone seeking the truth before?)

------------Flashback-----------

Galileo: "Even if the truth is revealed, if it's inconvenient, they'll be condemned and excluded."

Galileo: "I know a fool who pursued the truth despite knowing this and ended up with a life sentence."

---------Flashback Ends--------

Suddenly, his words came to mind.

(Could that be…)

(Could that be him?)

It was one possibility I had arrived at.

However, I couldn't bring myself to voice it because I didn't want to disturb him as he gazed at the stars with fervent eyes.

(If it's true that he got a life sentence, then what could have happened in his past?)

(I don't really know how he lived as a historical figure, but I know he supported the heliocentric model and left the famous quote, "And yet it moves.")

It was frustrating that I only knew fragments of his history.

(I want to know more about him.)

(I want to understand him and touch his heart.)

Those feelings grew stronger.

Galileo: "Had enough of the stars?"

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Galileo: "You've been lost in thought for a while now."

Mitsuki: "I was just..."

I looked up at the sky again, swallowing the rest of my words.

Mitsuki: "I was just thinking that they're still beautiful, even though I don't know their names."

I made that comment to hide my true feelings, but then a streak of light flashed across the sky above us.

Mitsuki: "A shooting star! Did you see it!?"

Galileo: "I saw it. Don't get too excited just because you saw one."

Mitsuki: "Sorry. But it was so beautiful! It was over so quickly."

Excitement bubbled up within me, and Galileo let out a sigh.

Galileo: "I didn't expect to see this side of you."

(.......)

For a moment, I felt like my breath had caught in my throat.

The smile I saw for the first time was so gentle.

(I really don't understand.)

(What are these feelings?)

My chest tightened, and I found myself unable to speak.

As if a shooting star had fallen, a nameless, tiny sparkle settled in my heart.

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#ikemen vampire #ikevamp jp #ikevamp #ikevamp translations #ikevamp galileo #cybird

[dennisboobs]

some of you should not speak on dennis until you've rewatched sunny in full instead of just the macden-centric eps.

#literally not even a matter of like. different interpretations it's just some of y'all forget literal canon events that disprove shit #i get schooled by people abt den too i have my weaknesses w writing him #but like oh my god #some of y'all would be better off if you looked at him outside of a macden context #he's not evil incarnate #he's fucked up and he does awful shit #but that is a little boy wearing an adult face #to just make him evil for no reason completely removes any interesting bits of him. #one of the keys to sunny's writing is that #rcg always makes sure that motivation is understandable *in that character's eyes* #dennis has a very specific purpose for everything he does #he isn't just cruel for no fucking reason #he's 'brutally honest' because he thinks its his duty to break the news #he's absolutely entitled and arrogant and misogynistic #but he doesn't set out to be Mean just for the sake of it #den thinks he is doing good. he thinks he's in the right. its not him it's everyone else. #he's doing you a favour by saying you're ugly (and propping up his own decimated self esteem) #that being said he's also not innocent pookie either #but i would say its like. in a lot of ways he IS oblivious to the reality of what hes saying/doing #part of that is his privilege as a white man who grew up being supported by and continues to be supported by his parent's wealth #but the gang enables the shit he does just as frank financially enables him #they are so insular it's like impossible to break out of the gang and interact with normal people #because if they don't get it then dennis is going straight back to the gang to feel validated and to hell w everyone else #on some level he knows shit is unacceptable but he's never learned Why and never will because theres no reason to #like when mac is completely fucking shocked by den talking abt the implication dennis CANNOT let that go unchecked #he needs mac to understand him because he's realizing that it's *actually* fucked up. bc even mac thinks so. #and when dee calls what happened with klinsky Rape everything IMMEDIATELY crumbles for him #dennis is introspective but he will justify shit and compartmentalize until his friends challenge it #he looks to media; tv and movies where the protagonist gets away with shit because its schlock fiction #and dennis DOES see himself as a protagonist. it's all justifiable bc he's the good guy.

[the-busy-ghost]

Warning- this is a very petty post, but I think I'm entitled to at least one petty, pissed-off reaction every time I finish a classic novel that hit harder than I expected so take this as my quota for the year.

Also spoiler warning for a book that came out over a century ago but still, I didn't know the plot going in so don't want to ruin it for anyone else, if you haven't read it shut your eyes. (Also Local Tumblr User Going Wild Over Book Published a Hundred Years Ago That Everybody Else Already Read should probably be categorised as akey part of indigenous tumblr culture at this point).

Anyway I just finished the War of the Worlds and in between studying I've thinking about Themes and Motifs as you do, and idly looking for further analysis. I then accidentally ran into an article called 'A Quiet Place II Succeeds Where the War of the Worlds Failed' and:

Now I haven't seen any of the Quiet Place films, this is not a rant against them and of course everyone is entitled to their own opinions. But re: the ending of The War of the Worlds, I have to ask, did this guy somehow miss, uh, the entire point of the book or am I just utterly insane?

#You're right it's not very satisfying for humanity that the invaders are foiled by a bacteria and not human action! Maybe that's the point! #Maybe it's supposed to be FRIGHTENING and make you ask questions about what humans will do under extreme stress #Not be a morally uplifting tale about Humanity Heroically Defeating the Martians in a Glorious Hollywood Ending #Maybe it's MEANT to be unsatisfying because this is not a straightforward fairytale #I mean I've only read it once and don't know much about Wells' work so I might have misunderstood the point of the book too #But at places it is a very pessimistic view of the human condition and that's partly WHY IT'S SO POWERFUL #That doesn't mean there aren't moments of individual acts of heroism (the Thunderchild for example) #But the question is not just 'how will humanity beat the Martians and prove that we're still the masters of the universe' #Rather 'a) why is humanity so confident that it's ultimately in control of its own destiny #And b) here's lots of scenes of societal collapse and of people pushed to the brink and what would YOU do in those circumstances? #Would YOU feel remorse about silencing the curate even if it did lead to his death? #What if it rather than a foolish adult it had been a small child? #And even if they were weak did they DESERVE it? Yes it might have been necessary but should it be policy going forward? #Would you also be attracted briefly by the certainties that the artilleryman's (rather fascist) plan seems to offer so humanity survives? #But what sort of humanity would that be if it DID survive and is it worth it? The narrator feels he needs to justify the curate's death #The artilleryman would have probably never have thought it was anything OTHER than justifiable or indeed laudable #Under strain and stress would you start to turn against even your loved ones and become brutal? #Is that the only hope for human survival beyond complete surrender? And was the destruction of London maybe even 'cleansing' #In the eugenics sense or in the sense of a natural horror of dirt and germs? #And the vast exodus of six million people fleeing headlong in panic - we might not have seen that exact phenomenon #But didn't the twentieth century subsequently go on to show us unprecedented scale of slaughter and refugee movements and communal strife? #At the end of the day what really separates humanity from other animals? And what separates us from the Martians? #It's not an uncontroversial book- it was written over a hundred years ago for goodness sake and there are questions worth asking #about the way imperialism and arguments about eugenics and population control and all sorts of other dodgy areas operated on Wells' mind #But dear God I really don't think the problem with the book is that 'Humanity didn't save the day!' #Unsatisfying ending? Yes. A FAILURE? No not in my opinion- looks like it was exactly what Wells set out to do #Humanity didn't win the war of the worlds they had a narrow escape and though it might not be martians next time #Why wouldn't disaster return in the future? Sure we've studied their flying machines and even preserved a martian in a jar #But for all our science what have we ACTUALLY learned that will enable us to avert future human catastrophes? Ethically or socially? #Alright rant over- as usual my opinion is not universal nor necessarily well-informed this take just really got my goat

[luveline]

could you please write something where maybe bombshell!reader hears one of the team members teasing about how she’s torturing spencer and she kinda backs off with the flirting and maybe it’s his turn to hold her hand and call her cute names because even though he always says he doesn’t mind, maybe he does and he just doesn’t want to tell her

tysm for requesting, 1k

Spencer's hair is brown silk in the sun. You bite your tongue to hold in a compliment rearing to come out, saccharine and completely true. Looking sweet, Spence. 

You love to compliment him and especially while Hotch is out of earshot. He and Derek play pairs against two agents from a different unit, their tennis racquets a shiny FBI navy. You start to speak and bite it back —a memory flashes, a shouting stop sign. 

You'd been teasing Spencer as he left the room, something about his indecisive hair. He's cut it shorter but left his curls without product, and you love it. 

Poor guy, Emily'd murmured, lips set against the rim of her coffee cup. 

What's the matter with him? you asked, perplexed. 

Nothing, just that he spins into a total meltdown every time you guys are within ten feet of each other. He must be exhausted.

She was joking and you know that, but something deep down worries she's right. It's not fair for you to keep winding him up… Especially when Spencer might be going along with you because he isn't sure how to say no. 

What if you're forcing yourself on him? 

You're sitting together on a small blanket in the grass with Anderson and a few of the other less competitive BAU agents. You bring your bottled iced tea to your forehead to cool down, condensation wetting your hot skin. The top of your head feels as though it has the full concentration of the sun beating against it. 

Spencer looks up at your movement. He's been reading a book for pleasure, or so he says, so he isn't going a mile a minute but he's still way faster than the average Joe. "Do you want to go find some shade?" he asks. 

"You look comfortable," you say, putting your iced tea aside.

Which is to say, I don't want you to come with me, it would disrupt you. Spencer nods and turns to the brown leather of his familiar satchel, popping the buckle open to dig around inside. 

"Do you think this would be okay?" he asks, bringing out his baseball cap. 

The fabric is starchy and the brim stiff as you accept it and wedge it over your head. You don't immediately cool, but your heart spins strange loops. "Thank you," you say. Thank you, handsome, gorgeous, baby, all beg to be said. 

Spencer stays looking at you for longer than normal. 

"Do I have something on my face?" you ask, swatting self consciously at your cheeks. 

"Nothing. You look really pretty," he says. 

"Thank you." Another loop. You point at his book, fingertip hitting a creamy page with a small thud. "Is this any good?" 

"I think you'd really like it, it feels like that last book I borrowed from you, and you loved that. They're very similar. I can lend it to you when I'm done." 

"Don't rush it for my sake."

Spencer gives you a private smile. "I won't. Just because you could watch a movie at two times speed doesn't mean you should." 

Your returning smile isn't half as nice. No shared lightness, no bright eyes. You're feeling awkward and unhappy —you really like Spencer. Like, you think you could be happy together for a long long time sort of like. He's charming and sweet and no one is ever as kind to him as he deserves, which is why you're trying to be kind now by putting distance between you.

You'll be brash forever. You can't change that, and Spencer doesn't need the stress of dealing with you, not on top of everything else. 

His smile fades as yours does. Quiet, without fuss, he scoots back on the picnic blanket, putting you knee to knee. The subtle muscle of his arm presses to yours and his hand wraps gently around your wrist as he dips his head down, his cheek touching briefly to your shoulder. 

"I know it's nice, but if the heat is getting to you we should go inside," he says, his fingers sliding across your palm to slot between your own. He squeezes your hand. "Heat stroke isn't obvious at first. Do you feel woozy?"

You stare at your twined fingers. He surprises you again, being this soft with you, and being uncharacteristically forward. Or maybe not uncharacteristic at all; Spencer won't let something like timidity stop him from comforting someone that needs it. 

"Spence," you murmur, closing your eyes, face angled down. 

"What?" 

"I'm sorry if I… If I've been messing you around. But I don't think this is a good idea." 

"What's not a good idea?" 

You can't make yourself say it. Instead, you rub the back of his hand, more for your own comfort than his, your tongue like a useless lump in your mouth. 

"You're sorry? Are you sure you're okay?" Spencer asks, no heed to the people sitting with you as he lets go of your hand to put his arm behind your shoulder like a shield. 

"I don't want to torture you," you say. 

Your friends love that word. You torture Spencer with your flirting and your easy affection. 

Spencer makes a face, eyes squinting and nose wrinkled. "They're just kidding when they say that. Emily, Morgan, they like making fun of me, it's like, sibling bonding or something. They don't say it because there's actually something to feel sorry about." He lowers his voice, bashful but sincere at once, "If you're torturing me, I guess I'm a masochist." 

You laugh without thinking, a breathless, girlish sound you'd regret if you had the wherewithal. "You're a masochist?" you ask. 

He takes the brim of your borrowed hat and pushes it up to unobstruct the view of your eyes. 

"If that's what it takes," he says. A hint of wryness creeps into his otherwise smooth tone. 

Despite his brave talk and his steady eye contact, his face has started to blush. A rosy hue kisses the tops of his cheeks and his nose, a dusting of pink splodges stark against his paleness. The curve of his lips seems extra tantalising now. He's very, very pretty. 

And he doesn't mind stepping in to take the reins when you're unsure of things. 

"We really should sit in the shade for a bit," he says. "Let's get drinks from the gazebo. Yeah?" 

You're halfway through a nod when he kisses your cheek too quickly for you to respond. You follow him to the gazebo without any more reluctance, weaselling your hand back into his, and attempt to pull another kiss from him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby [part 3]

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution: NOT PROOFREAD and in this fic the reader isn't a big fan of adam so qwq apologies adam lovers!! nothing against him at all!]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. alastor attends the court but doesn't do much but watch the mess happen tbh qwq sorries. )

(oh and every flashback that will be in almost every chapter will be out of order! but will always include what age the reader was in at the time of that memory!)

(tags: @wildfire153 @nevermorekisses @corvidae-00 @d0nutsaur @baalzie @luujjvi )

It is the day of the court meeting.

You have never been so glad in the entirety of your afterlife that you made so many good connections to higher angels throughout all your years in heaven.

You managed to convince one of your close friends that usually attended these kinds of court meetings to bring you along as a sort of 'extra advisor', an outside opinion of sorts.. with the exception of not speaking out and interrupting the court while it's ongoing and if you need anything to be said to tell it to them and they'll speak out for you.

Apparently this meeting was entirely set up so that the princess of hell could present a hotel as a second chance for sinners who genuinely wish to better themselves and to go to heaven. Personally you thought that hell was simply their punishment to live through due to their sins, they had their chances. But then again you couldn't imagine what hell was like to those who murdered or committed sins they didn't intend to for the sake of their safety and others.. so a part of you understood where she was coming from as well.

Although.. you genuinely hoped she wouldn't use Alastor as an example since he most definitely doesn't regret a single crime he's done on earth.

You followed your friend inside the court room, taking a seat beside them as you looked down below where Charlie Morningstar and the manager of her hotel, who you know found out is named Vaggie, were prepping to present their cause. Suspiciously, Alastor seemed to be running late since the courthouse seemed to be lacking his presence for these few short moments.. which you weren't exactly sure if that was good or bad.

Once everyone was seated and all was quiet that's when the infamous Adam came and flew in, god you hated that man. You questioned how someone like him could be in a high position in heaven with how many things he's done it just peeved you off.. but you never bothered to verbally question it since you didn't want to find out if mortal souls can be fallen as well since for all you knew only higher angels like the seraphims could become fallen.

Ah, and finally Alastor appeared by means of traveling by shadow.. several members of the court hushing and murmuring after seeing the power that particular sinner seemed to have. Unlike them, you only let out a huff of air through your nose as your skin began to grow cold.. feeling nervous at how the court is reacting to your father even if none of them knew of that big fact just yet. Alastor then set himself beside Charlie on her right hand-side, Vaggie on her left.

Once Adam let out his usual annoying comments that you mentally muted out, that's when Sera finally began the meeting.

Guess you're right on time, Alastor.

"We are gathered here today to determine whether or not a soul in Hell, can be redeemed into the heavenly realm by means of this Hazbin Hotel." she spoke, voice full of reason and seemed very professional. She then gave the rest of the court's attention to the princess. "Princess Morningstar?"

The poor girl seemed nervous and Adam's presence didn't seem to help much either. With a sigh she began as well "Thank you, Seraphim."

You felt bad for the girl, the pressure she must be under. She didn't seem evil to you at all.. in fact with what you heard of her so far she more or less seemed to fit in with Heaven quite well. Oh poor thing.

She cleared her throat, "Webster's dictionary defines redemption as--"

"Objection! Lame and unoriginal."

Hearing Adam's voice made you want to scream.

Oh and so did Alastor's right after.

"Oh here now, no need to be so rude." Alastor's voice interrupted, his tone seemingly playful yet serious "How may we even present our case if you won't even let us explain hmm? Now that's no fair."

Adam scoffed, "Pfft! And why even are you here smiley? Don't tell me something as fucked-up looking as you is gonna be the princess's piece of proof for this shitty hotel, aren't you just another sick fuck?" Laughed the man, an ego bigger than heaven itself.

"I am Alastor, host of the hotel and a sort of co-founder of it as well! I can assure you the Princess's cause and ideas, as bizarre as they seem, seem to be developing quite well!

Now if you'll let us continue, we can at least show you the progress of it so far." The deer demon pointed his hand towards Charlie to give the attention to her once more.

Sera let out a sigh and stepped in to let Charlie continue, with the exception of no further dictionary references.

You sighed feeling frustrated, can't they just let her speak and present herself the way she wants to?

The poor girl seemed to skip through several note cards, Adam continuing to nag her about evidence and yada yada. While he complained your eyes landed on Alastor, your father seemingly annoyed and intrigued by this annoying guy as well.

The few words passed around seemed to deafen on you as you stared at him, trying to see what could he be plotting. Was he to use this hotel as a means to cover something, to bring in more victims, to cause more pain? You were unsure.. he seemed to nice about it. Alastor noticed your prying eyes and side eyed you back as well with that shit-eating grin, making you immediately look away back towards the princess to listen to her once again.

"Angel Dust." she exclaimed.

"Oh yeah. The porn demon! He's totally worth being redeemed." Adam's sarcastic comments and actions only made you see him as childish. You never really interacted with him one on one before since you never needed to but you have seen and heard several things.. you didn't think he deserved to be up here.

"Well if you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into heaven?" Adam seemed flabbergasted by her comment, almost stuck on what to say with how many filler words he uses.

You then put your finger under your chin in thought, 'Good question.. what does it take?' you thought up your own deeds, sacrificing your life for another, your everyday general selflessness, you remember always helping others that needed it and always defended your father from people who saw him as nothing but dirt. To you, getting into heaven takes pure selflessness.

Adam sent a golden paper towards Vaggie, her voice announcing what is says. "Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man.. Are you fucking serious?"

Alastor interrupted right after " I do believe theres a few more things after that if I do so recall.."

Adam practically ignored him and started boasting about himself again. You could've sworn a migraine was to come onto you. Alastor definetly wanted to let out more witty comments but knew he had to behave on this particular day as well. He felt annoyed but his relaxed attitude and smile never let that slip out for a second, he looked perfectly composed.

Your friend, the court member, gently nudged on your arm as a way to ask you if you're okay without verbally saying it since apparently you have been sighing and huffing constantly when annoyed or simply reacting to something.

"Oh.. sorry.." you mumbled towards them, they whispered that it's okay right after.

"Let's fucking see then." Adam snapped his fingers as Charlie proudly presented Exhibit A. Everyone seemed to watch with interest, you with slight doubt and hope for the best.

------(sorry besties we gotta time skip a bit more into the song portion of the court qwq I don't know what else to write heeere im sorryyyyy)-------------------------

The evidence was nothing but clear, his Angel Dust fellow was truly making progress to redemption, it was clear through actions! Maybe there really is serious hope for him after all.

So why was Sera and Adam so adamant in not going further in this?

Your thinking only amplified when the court around you also asked the same thing, about why this soul isn't in heaven then.

It wasn't until the Princess started questioning them as well where Sera was stopping the questioning.

Emily started singing and her words slowly impacted you and as you lingered on it that it made you look down and gaze down at your father once more, his expression relaxed and now more focused on how the situation is playing our rather than helping out.

Alastor was here for the entertainment and laughs, and this man knew that it was just going to get better from here now.

-------------(passing through the song cuz honestly im unsure of what else to add but I just know alastor is watching this shit show go down and maybe try to defend charlie but in a half-assed sort of way.. love the man.)----------------------

Sera's voiced echoed across the court, finalizing her final verdict which made your legs threaten to get back up from your seat again. "I'm sorry.. but this court finds that there is no evidence souls in Hell can be redeemed."

Nono its not fair, not every sinner down there is evil theres still a few that have potential to be here! The evidence was clear! Progress can be made!..

And to imagine all the sinners they've killed up to now.

Adam cackled and boasted more, threatening the trio to attack their hotel first.

Alastor took this to heart and decided to act a bit irrationally, activating his powers as his shadow grew bigger as a way to threaten him back. The two girls begging him to stop knowing that this will only anger the angels more.

"Whoa--p lucky for you I'm not in the mood to fight right now, bye bye fuckers!" With a cackle Adam opened a large yellow portal which slowly sucked Vaggie and Charlie in as they begged not to leave. Alastor on he other hand dug his heels onto the ground and his tentacles kept him on the floor strong and using his microphone cane as extra security to not fall over from how strong the portal was trying to suck him in.

"Geez you just don't give up do you, fuckin' radio freak." Adam's comment made Lute grab her weapon that appeared in her grasp when she extended her hand out, raising it up to strike Alastor that was already struggling a bit to stay in place.

Sera exclaimed with Emily and the entire court gasping, "Adam that's--"

"ENOUGH!" you exclaimed, jumping down and leaping out of your seat to stand in between Alastor and Lute, become a barrier.

Lute scoffed "Get out of the way, you aren't even supposed to be in here"

"Killing him would just make you as bad as any other sinner down there."

She snarled at your comment, resisting the urge to strike you instead.

You turned around to face Alastor with a pitiful look on your face "Get out of here, go home. You're making this worse than it has to." You took a steps closer to him yet tried to stay put so that the portal doesn't suck you in as well. "Leave, dad." you gave him a smile, as if this is the last time you're going to see him ever again. "Resisting heaven in this way will only make this dangerous for you and me. Go."

Alastor's eyes narrowed at you, taking a glance at Adam behind you who was flipping him off before giving his attention back to his little dove.

Without any words he made his powers relax, the tentacles slowly uncurling from his ankles and he went into the portal with a menacing grin look to the court as if indirectly saying that this won't be the last of him.

With the portal finally closed you then let out a sigh, Adam laughing his ass off. "Seems like you got a shitty case of daddy issues huh! You came from that prick's ballsack too?? Did you cheat your way up here or something?"

'I'm adopted dipshit, could say the same thing about you though' your thoughts were then interrupted by Sera scolding Adam who then calmed down and flew off himself away with Lute beside him, so did the rest of the other court angels.

You turned to look back up at her too, an obvious look of disappointment adorning her face for being in a place you weren't even meant to be in the first place.

"_____." her voice made you feel small, "I will discuss with you later about the.. decisions you took today, but now theres more important things coming towards our way. Your apparent father... being a good example of what we need to protect ourselves from." She then proceeded to turn to Emily, talking to her in her own gentle way.

You sighed in defeat, although you didn't see Alastor do anything terrible he almost was about to do something he could have possibly regretted.

You flew yourself out of the court room to the entrance of the courthouse, deciding to walk by foot to blow off some steam.

The extermination was set to happen in a month, that'd give you enough time to prepare..

Nonono-- you can't actually be thinking to go to hell in disguise, help the princess, defend her against the angels in another disguise so the angels don't recognize you then go back home like it's nothing.

Right?

Oh god you were crazy enough to do all that huh. Even when the stakes of winning aren't high at all? When you could die?

Well, dying seems better than living in a hypocritical heaven that was more unfair and unkind as it seemed. Yes you love your friends and your people but.. how could the higher ups be alright with so much massacre and murder at their command, they were just like Alastor to you if anything.

You understood Charlie's cause and are willing to stand up for it.

You didn't want to become a fallen if it was possible.. but you couldn't sit here and do nothing.

You may or may not also be doing this to keep your dad safe, even though unbeknownst to you he was one of the strongest overlords in hell and was powerful as fuck, you would excuse this 'care' you have for him by saying you just want him to serve his eternal punishment for his crimes and not have the second easy way out.

"Fine. Let's get to work."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alastor was currently holding you by the hand as you both walked back to your home. It was an aggressively rainy day in New Orleans with the raindrops falling like hail, various people running or walking through the rain. You and Alastor were just strolling through with him holding up an umbrella to give you both some kind of shelter.

With you being your two year old self you couldn't help but to playfully kick the water on the ground, it irked Alastor a bit but didn't say much until you then decided to jump on a big puddle to make a huge splash.

"Now _____, I hope I don't have to ask you one more time after this. No jumping on puddles so aggressively, at least only when you're playing but right now we are getting home dear. We mustn't have you catch a cold so soon." He spoke sternly, giving you a smile to make you not feel as if he's mad at you.. at least not entirely.

"Sowy.. " you spoke, your intended word coming out differently than you intended at first but Alastor understood your baby yapping just fine.

"Good girl, just don't do it as much now."

Then you stopped doing it but you still enjoyed watching the ripples in the water.

Once you two got home Alastor took his large coat off and set it on his coat hanger, placing the umbrella in a cane holder and and kneeled down to your level to then take your own rain coat and softer coat off and hung them as well, guess just maybe he seemed to care more than he led on with how he double coated you to stay warm.

He then took off your little rain boots as well and set them beside the door, after that you then immediately skedaddled away with a smile on your face to your room. Alastor sighed as he then went to remove his shoes and set them beside the door, exchanging them for cozy slippers that were waiting for him next to your rain boots as well.. thing is you ran off before he was able to have you put on your own matching pair of fluffy slippers for the cold.

He grabbed them for you as he then headed to you room to find you, assuming you were playing he expected a mess but instead you bumped right into his legs! He looked down and saw that you covered yourself in one of your warmest blankets that he recently bought you for the raining season.

"____, dear you're dragging it on the floor." He sighed a little before picking you up and covering you well with the blanket "Let's head over now, we have some music on the radio to listen to for the rest of the day."

He walked over to the living room and set you down on the sofa. This time as you were set down he also covered the blanket around you even more.. basically turning you into a baby burrito so you'd stay extra warm. He then turned on the radio to play some more classical and softer jazzy tunes before grabbing a newspaper he set down that early morning, setting himself beside you and continuing where he left off.

Despite being trapped in the warmth you couldn't help notice something weird, odd, even to you as a toddler. "Papa.." you babbled.

"Yes, dear?" he spoke with his eyes still glued on the words on the page.

"Red..red." you continued on, wiggling an arm out to touch the sleeve of his dress shirt.

"Hm?.." he hummed as he slowly went to look at what you were pointing.

Oh..

Right, yes, red.

"Ah.. yes.. I must've bumped into paint dear don't worry about it. " he gave you a gentle pat on the head before hastily setting the paper back down again and walking over and around the sofa to head to his room "Be a good girl and stay right where you are, I'll be right back." he exclaimed while leaving.

He let out a long sigh as he then aggressively opened his closet doors to change out of his bloodied dress shirt with a large red hand print smeared on his arm sleeve.

How did he not notice that.. that was too close. You wouldn't understand but he could only hope that no other person saw it.

No one better have saw it.

You were still in your blanket cocoon, too comfortable to move out of it. Hearing the tunes only made you relax even more, oh how you loved it.. the sound of rain even made the experience better to you somehow.

"Blabla.. bleh.. pluh.." you babbled in a sing song way from all the music you listen to. You then proceeded to get bored.. easily.

You wiggled your way out of the blanket to then grab the paper that Alastor left, staring at the front page of it.

Of course you couldn't read for shit, but it's good you couldn't since it's front headline is definitely- something..

'BREAKING NEWS: LOCAL POLICE HAVE FOUND EIGHT MORE BODIES IN LOCAL RIVER BANK. COULD THIS BE NEW ORLEAN'S NEWEST BOOGEYMAN AT WORK?'

"_____, don't touch papa's things sweetheart." Alastor popped out of nowhere and gently tugged the newspaper form your tiny hands. "you can barley read as well, don't tell me you want to start reading the news at your little age." He sat beside you, his signature smile shining as always.

In the end, you snuggled closer to him and slowly felt asleep on him as he continued on reading and relaxing now.

Half an hour passed and he finished reading the paper, enjoying a few parts here and there about it. He closed the thin pages to then look down at you leaning on his side sleeping and huddled in your blanket, in peace.

Ah, how cute. He never was a huge fan of kids, in fact he would've given you away long ago at this age.

But it's small moments like these that made him want to keep you longer, the small and peaceful ones, the ones where you two bonded over things you two enjoyed equally. It's gotten to the point where almost couldn't imagine life without his daughter in it.

Oh god, he's grown soft.

This isn't him, it couldn't be. He's heartless, lacks empathy.. he really does.

But when it comes to you it's like it reverses even for a few moments.

His smile widened as he then gently grazed your head with the back of his hand to avoid waking you up.

He started to mumble to himself, "You see.. a boy would have been the son of another family, but you ______ Altruist.. shall be mine." He spoke softly, a sight to behold from Alastor who is known for anything except soft.

Oh but you were his little girl, his daughter, not by blood but unfortunately he accidentally let himself get attached and now he is proudly your father.

He won't ever admit it, even if threatened with death, but he'll always know that in his sick and dark soul his baby girl was his light. This is why he decided to never let you know about this part of himself that he indulged in without shame.

If only his mother were to see him now, she'd be so proud of Alastor that he has at least made a proper human connection. That he's given her a granddaughter.

Oh if only, only she were here now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(thank you for reading everyone! sorry if this chapter seemed a bit lazy or smth qwq I was mostly unsure of how to have alastor and the reader pop in here in there throughout the trial since I wanted to stay true to the show as well but we’ll get more of them very soon!

most likely there will be two more parts after this and it’ll be wrapped up! i will not promise an entirely happy ending for al and his kid tho😭 still deciding on it)

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor x reader platonic #hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel alastor #radio demon #the radio demon #alastor platonic #hazbin charlie #charlie morningstar #adam #adam hazbin hotel #charlie hazbin hotel #charlie #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin spoilers #hellaverse #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin lute #lute #hazbin hotel adam #lute hazbin hotel #sera hazbin hotel

[entitled-fangirl]

Breakfast is ready.

Felix Catton x reader

Summary: The reader feels sick, but Felix is going to make sure she eats breakfast.

Words: 968

Warnings: sickness, cursing

Author's note: This is kind of from an ask but I made it just about breakfast!

Masterlist

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She woke up to the blinds being opened by the maid, "Breakfast is ready."

She let out a soft groan, sitting up and stretching her arms out. Her hair was a mess, her clothes frumpeld. She looked over to see that Felix's side of the bed was empty and quite cold. He had been out for a while, and she couldn't possibly guess why he would leave her.

She pushed herself to the edge of the bed, standing onto her feet. Her head hurt, perhaps her body becoming ill, but there was no skipping breakfast. Her legs shivered, her now realizing she is only in Felix's shirt and her underwear. 

Running to the dresser, she pulls a pair of slacks. Pulling them on quickly, she throws a jumper over Felix's shirt. She tames her hair just enough to look presentable. But she takes an extra minute in the mirror, looking at the bags under her eyes. How late had they stayed up?

Throwing on a pair of socks to keep her feet warm, she quickly goes downstairs to breakfast.

Entering the dining room, she's greeted with quiet, "Morning"s. Her eyes immediately scan the table, seeing Felix look up at her too. A bright smile comes across his face at the sight of her sleepy form.

She quickly moves to sit next to him. As she sits down, she feels Felix's hand rest on her back, "You alright, angel?" He asks in a low tone.

"I… yeah. I just don't know why you didn't wake me up this morning." Her hand reaches up to her head as the headache comes back.

He lets out a soft laugh, whispering in her ear, "Well, I figured you deserve as much beauty sleep as I could give you. Seemed to work. I mean, look at you this morning. Taking my fuckin breathe away."

A smile graced her face as her cheek turned a shade of pink.

Duncan entered, "Goodmorning. How would you like your eggs?"

She grimaced, her voice coming out still quiet and hoarse from her sleep, "I'm fine, Duncan. I'm not that hung-"

"-She'll have them over easy. Thanks."

Duncan leaves with a nod.

She turned to Felix, "Why did you do that?"

He shrugs, his arm going over the back of her chair, "You need to eat."

She gives a slight pout, "I can't… my head hurts too bad."

His eyebrows furrow, "Did you sleep alright?"

She nods, "I slept fine, Lex."

He doesn't take that for an answer.

"Listen, angel. You think you're getting sick?"

"No. No. I'm alright."

He nods, deciding not to fight about it at the table. A silence ensues for a while before he decides to break it again. "Oh, angel. We were talking about the Shelley biography."

Venetia jumped in, "yeah. Do you know the story about Shelley's doppelgänger?"

She shook her head, stopping once she remembered the headache.

Felix got up from the table, going to the side table.

Venetia continued, "Shelley's housekeeper was cleaning one of the rooms when Shelley walked past the window and waved at her. So, she waved back before she realized that Shelley was in Italy…"

Felix had returned to the table, gently setting the now made plate in front of his angel for her to eat. She looked at him with a slightly disagreeing look, but knew not to fight about it at the table. 

"…And she was on the top floor of the house…"

Felix grimaced at Venetia's story, his hands moving over his girl's ears to keep her from hearing it. If it would freak him out, he knew she shouldn't hear it, "Oh, Vee. Stop, stop, stop. I won't sleep."

But she continued, "…a few hours later, he drowned."

Elspeth gasped, "oh. Oh, that's just given me goosebumps."

Felix took his hands back, considering it safe for his girl to listen again.

Farleigh stared at the paper in front of him, his voice strong and uncaring, "I heard he fucked his sister."

Sir James finally spoke up, "Oh, for God's sake!"

Felix turned, "Jesus, Farleigh…"

Oliver quipped up, "I think that was Byron."

The table went quiet, as if everyone had forgotten that Oliver was there. That quickly turned to small chatter between the adults.

Farleigh looked disgusted but Felix held an amused smile on his face, turning to her to see she had a matching one. He then pointed at her plate, as if telling her to eat it. About that time, Duncan brought out her eggs, setting it next to her other full plate. She let out a sigh, staring at the food. 

Elspeth was brought out of her talk hearing the girl's sigh. "Oh, darling. Is everything alright?"

Her eyes snapped up, her mouth opening to answer, but Felix beat her to it, "she's not feeling well, that's all."

The mother nodded, "Oh, I see. Nasty sickness going around this time of year. Take your time today, darling."

She nodded gratefully, turning back to her plate. The chattering continued and she continued to stare at the plate. Eventually, Felix brushed her arm lightly with his, his voice soft again, "Is something wrong, angel? You really must eat."

She simply stared at the eggs, feeling herself get sick just staring at them. Felix noticed it, immediately moving the plate away, "Duncan. Could I actually get some eggs just… scrambled?"

"Felix, stop."

"No. I want you to be able to eat what's in front of you. Duncan?"

Duncan nodded, taking the plate away quickly. 

She turns to see everyone staring at them. She mutters a quiet, "I'm sorry."

Felix sighs, "Don't be, angel." He kissed the top of her head as she stared at the table in embarrassment. 

Breakfast continued, Felix's arm around the back of her chair the entire time.

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#fanfiction #felix catton #felix catton imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton x you #jacob elordi imagine #jacob elordi x reader #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn 2023 #saltburn #saltburn movie #felix catton fanfic #felix

[undercoverpena]

it means something

joel miller x f!reader | masterlist

summary: compliments don’t fall from his tongue, but they drip from his eyes. They land on your skin, healing scars that don’t show; they make you glow, and feel like something worth choosing.

to @joelsflannel, i took aspects of all your prompts. i tried to make it fluffy, her a little romantic, i tried to give you a quote that i hope you adore, with a man i know you already love. and i sprinkled in a hard day for you, but with some stress-easing fun to unwind with. merry christmas <;3

wordcount: 3.2k warnings: softer!joel, soft sex (p in v), talks of love, jackson era joel, mentions of ellie, joel in a towel (like damn). written for @pedrostories secret santa event.

You’re tired, drained.

Somehow, you find yourself able to drag your feet from the livelier part of Jackson to the quieter, almost more peaceful part. The soles of your boots draw lines behind you, all of which will likely be covered by the newly settling snow within the hour.

It's picturesque, this place. The kind of location you expect would have once been on postcards that people would be sent to loved ones saying 'wish you were here'.

You don't have to wish.

If your eyes weren’t like pinholes, you’d take a second to admire it.

Stamp your boots in one spot, and enjoy the crunch of it under your feet. A thing you’d do on any other day, if not for the fact, that you were so ready to be in the warmth, to be with him—to curl into him and breathe in his scent.

The kind of scent which buries itself into your nose, to your soul. It wraps its fingers around you and digs its clutches into you. Not that you complain. You'd bathe in it if you could, happily letting him smear it over your skin whenever the two of you have the chance.

It’s why you continue to move. It's why you force one leg in front of the other, muscles begging for reprieve.

By the time you’re up the steps, fingers wrapping around the handle of the front door, you realise how badly you wish to shed your layers. Desiring nothing more than to slide out of your coat, unwrap your scarf, remove the hat, gloves and second pair of socks.

Twisting the handle, the door doesn't fight letting you inside. Instead, it welcomes you. Allowing you to move quickly inside, more than anyone would expect from someone so fatigued—removing the layers, hanging each in turn on the rack beside his.

A sight which tugs at something inside you. It loops its fingers around that feeling within, gently pulling—it is all warm, unexplainable; all hard to describe, but the closest word is lovely, nice—welcomed.

That feeling had been born before the end of days, but it had been nothing but an ember then. Now, it was a roaring fire, all lit by him.

You're sure he knows. Not that either of you talk about it. It added to the long list of things you never speak, not for his sake, but for yours.

Even when you first began your… thing with him, you’d found it as difficult as him to know what to call it. Especially, when it had all happened so randomly, with no explanation or sight that it would occur. It just did.

Smiling, you allow yourself a moment to think back to it. How warm it was. How the setting sun smudged an array of shades across the sky, how you'd been bitter about something, mumbling under your breath until a noise cut through your dismay. His laughter. All gruff and born from his throat. It had expelled into the space between the two of you, cut through your bad mood.

Because it had been louder than you’d ever heard it as the two of you walked back, as you did on so many other nights. But that night had felt so different—and it was.

One moment you were staring, and the next his lips found yours, all chapped, but soft. His fingers around your cheek, whispering your name so gently. Stroking your skin, all worn, a bit rough.

Now, the two of you are a habit. A routine.

Nothing has ever been discussed, nothing ever exchanged. Just some nights you ate dinner with him—knee pressed against his. Sometimes your things sat along his in his home, bobby pins and whatever book you were reading.

Some days Ellie let herself into your house, had made a bedroom out of one of your spares, and sometimes she asked if you wanted to come round to theirs.

The only constant thing is that at least once every week, your limbs found themselves tangled with his. His mouth latched itself onto your neck, hand grasping at your breast, fingers pinching the peak of your nipple as he gruffly told you how hard you’d gotten him.

You liked it. Craved it.

Enjoyed the way you took him apart as he focused on making you a mess.

You liked seeing his salt and pepper curls cling to his forehead, liked running your nails through the hair on the back of his neck—back arched into him, feeling fuller than you’d ever imagined you could. Hearing his gruff voice in your ear, saying words he'd never say if he wasn't buried to the hilt inside of you.

But then, you only call him Joel when he's between your thighs too.

"Miller?"

His name rings around the first floor of the house.

Checking the package in your pocket, you sigh as the day drips from your tight muscles. Hand moving to rub the back of your neck, staring at Ellie's half-open comic and the pencils you'd lent her over the table.

You knew she wouldn't reply, not when tonight was movie night. A Christmas one, she'd told you. She had already let it slip she was going, told you as she kept watch on the door so you could continue your surprise for him.

Her request for you to join her faded when you looked up at her, likely seeing the same look which now greets you in the dust-covered mirror.

Kicking off your boots, and removing one layer of socks, you sigh at the way your feet can all of a sudden breathe—even inside his thick socks. Wiggling your toes, you smile as you begin to curl and unfurl them, before your hand finds the bannister, dragging yourself up the stairs until you reach his room.

His empty room.

Heart falling, you consider calling out again. Using his first name this time—letting each of the four letters carry around the house.

But, his bed looks comfortable. It calling to you. Somehow finding yourself lying on it, your face pressed into his sheets, your bones and muscles sighing in relief that you're in a bed.

Eyes wishing to flutter shut, body unwinding against the mattress, the sheets. It’s on the third heavy exhale, do you realise you hear water. It falls in pitters and patters, distantly, likely from the bathroom across the hall.

That’s when a smile curls across your face because you’ve always found comfort in the sound of running water.

Whether it’s rivers or rain, and showers or leaks. It reminds you of calmness, of things fading from reach—washing away, starting anew. Memories of times trying to colour themselves in your mind, fading before they do as sleep tries to coax you away.

The only thing which displaces the grip sleep has on you, is the comforting sight that comes to a stop at the foot of the bed.

Steam swirling around him, all broad shoulders and still damp skin—the hair on his chest, arms, and stomach, clinging in half-swirled curls and straight lines, the towel clutched at his hip.

The first time you saw Joel Miller naked, you’d almost lost the function to speak. All man—all soft and muscle simultaneously. Something constructed from fantasies, made in real life, carved and moulded by hands you think never thought he’d be real. You were close to not being able to speak all over again now.

Eyes tracing, outlining and shading—squirrelling away a sketch of him you’ll think about when the other side of the bed is cold and not filled with him.

“Didn’t hear you come in.”

You hum, lifting up onto your elbows, admiring him, finding him doing the same—even if you suspect you’re not half as good-looking right now as he is.

Least of all when he takes your ankle in hand, moving you sideways with him as steps between your legs now hanging off the bed, the fabric of his towel brushing over your jeans, his palms coming down on the mattress on either side of your neck, staring at you with a look of concern.

“Y’not been sleepin’?”

“Just been busy,” you reply, arms looping around his neck. “Not lots of time to rest.”

You suppose at some point between summer and winter, things became soft—less about need and company, and something along the lines of real.

In another world, one not ridden with fungi and death, you suppose it would have been labelled, added something which tied the two of you together—something meaning more to others than it likely would do to you.

Smiling, you force your eyes to open properly. Watching that look of hunger slowly bleed out over the concern, vanishing entirely when you smirk. If the two of you were different, you suspect you'd tell him you miss him. Tell him you've thought about him.

Instead, you whisper, “Want you, Joel.”

Even more so when you trace the words over his mouth. Aware of his hands on your jeans, and how he's popped open the button, how he's dragging down the zipper. The fabric freely slides from your skin as your hands slide down, dropping to the towel at his waist—thumb digging over it, all ready to pull, unravel it. “Need you.”

His eyes narrow swallowed in darkness. “Yeah?”

Nodding, you roll your lips, dragging your fingers to the tuck, undoing it, not taking your eyes off him. Seeing something in his eyes that is more than just reciprocation of the words spoken, but the ones left unsaid.

“You want me?”

However, you’ll have me.

You’re not sure you speak it, but you're sure he hears it all the same.

For how aloof people think he is, he’s a man who listens—not just to the crunch of branches and the rustle of trees, but to the things people don’t say. He hears their secrets and pulls away their lies. Skills he told you one night he levelled up in when the world tried to keep taking more than it had already.

You suppose it’s how he knows you, your body, what you want and what you crave.

More so as he tangles his tongue with yours, all heady—gripping him firm, tightly as his fingers snake between the two of you. Desperation thrumming through your fingers as you push them into his skin, into his muscles—feeling the coil tighten as he moves his fingers with nothing short of precision. Knowing you, having mapped you out, learnt your cues—it’s why you don’t fight it, the incoming wave ready to drench your taut muscles, let him undo you, unravel you out so you’re nothing but spread out for him.

He likes it like that, you can tell. Likes how you surrender to him, how you lay out for him, letting him move you how he needs you.

It used to be rough, desperate—pure carnal. But, it’s been replaced by something else, something not soft or romantic, but you’re sure it’s a distant relative.

Once you’d gotten a bruise on your hip that pulsed, shifted in shades from being nudged against your kitchen table. Now when he leaves them, he traces them with his thumb, hoping to suck out the sting. Because now you’re treated to comfort—too recently washed bedding and his fingers inside your cunt as your body bends into him, practically curls, sings, hums.

“Always so fuckin’ tight for me.”

Compliments don’t fall from his tongue, but they drip from his eyes. They land on your skin, healing scars that don’t show. Each lick of his gaze makes you glow, and feel like something worth choosing, having been picked, plucked—and placed on some mantle you don’t even mind being perched on.

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, breathing a struggle, practically gasping, you mumble his name—murmur it, almost a whine. “Fuck me now, Joel. Want you inside of me.”

Then, you’re overwhelmed.

Bathed in both the scent of fresh soap, dewy skin and absolute fullness. Your legs wrapping, crossing at the ankles as he slides into the hilt—pausing, just as he always does, fingers brushing over your jaw until he’s tilting your chin.

That same look—the one you first witnessed after the kiss under the dusk.

It doesn’t vanish until you show him, either in a whisper of the magic words or a movement he can read as a spell. Your hips rolling, rocking—please, please.

Your hands take in the feel of him breathing, the way his chest expands, fills with the knowledge, the realisation, nails digging, almost all in order. One he answers, delivers, fucking stamps.

Joel makes your toes curl, makes white noise appear in your ears, and makes you forget every important thing you’ve ever filed away. All hot, scorching against your skin as you grasp him closer, hoping you’ll be smothered in burns—hoping the same when you swallow his grunts, his hisses off your name. His hips pistoning, aiming to send you over the edge before him, hands—riddled with the evidence of his survival and his new hobby keep you rooted, don’t allow you to wander off into bliss without him.

“Too good f’me, sweetheart.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, right against your pulse, before he licks against what beats under your skin.

You snort amidst your whine, clutching all the strings which keep you whole as you close your eyes—banish him from looking into your soul. He’s seen all there is there, let him in before, provided flashes, evidence of your shattered soul and broken mentality. It comes to the surface easier here, when your walls suck him in, and your body calls for him in a chorus of pleading and begging.

Because you’re close—not needing too much from him tonight, the sight of him is enough. The knowledge of his existence, knowing he’s yours without confirmation.

“There, right there,” you moan, heels digging into the base of his back, feeling the jostle of him, the way he rears and fucks.

He smirks, shifting, just enough to make the head of his cock hit the spot which makes your thighs shake, tremble, fucking quake. His mouth still split open, words there on his tongue, all ready to drape over your skin—

But, you just feel it’s incoming arrival. All white-hot, blinding—too much pressure, yet needing just a little bit more. Your body is not yours, mind empty, gone, faded. You want to sink your teeth into him, bite down, cut into him and leave a mark like the ones he leaves inside you each time the two of you do this.

Because it means something. This. The two of you in this little house in fucking Jackson. Doesn’t it? Doesn’t it?

“Yea’,” he grunts, palm on your face, tilting you up roughly, forcing your eyes to open.

And you swear he smiles when they flash open. You swear it.

“Means somethin’, sweetheart. This—fuck—us.”

The words grind into you. As though he's the pestle and your mortar. Your breath is lost, unable to be grasped, your body hanging, pleasure a bigger force—swallowing the room, casting you in shadows and misting over you—until you cry out. Squeezing, fluttering.

Not able to see anything but his face, the look on his face—the twisted expression of his lips and the deepness of his eyes. More black, than brown—but they’re somehow still soft, still full of something you hope is pleasant and full of emotions.

It only vanishes briefly when he spills inside of you.

When he collapses on top of you—his heart hammering against your ribs. And, even if it isn’t the first time, you feel yourself still—pause, no rash movements, because this is nice, this is something you want without asking for it.

“Can’t believe I can hear y’brain already.”

Snorting, you roll your eyes, glancing over—finding his lips have slid into his cheek.

It gnaws at you, the reason for your lack of sleep. The thing which you've traded hours of rest for. That dormant part pushed to the edge by exhaustion, now awake and very much worrying.

“Got you something,” you whisper, biting your lip, watching his brows furrow and lines appear between them.

Standing up, you steal the dressing gown from the back of his door—the one you’d traded for months ago. The one which is far too big, even for him, making it only cosier when you borrow it. Shooting him a smile, you almost disguise it, worried it's far too soft, too normal, before you mumble about being right back.

It's a hurry to the front door, all feet hammering down on wooden steps before your hand digs in your coat pocket, retrieving the wrapped thing you’ve lost shuteye over.

When you enter, he’s under the sheets—hair at odd angles, looking both a mixture of energised and fucked out that you wish you could paint with your fingers, so you'd forever have it.

“Didn’t wanna give this to you on the 25th—just in case you popped a vein trying to figure out what it means.”

Kneeling on the bed, you take a levelling breath, before handing it to him. His eyes travelling from you to it, fingers taking it—all delicate, measured. Before he unpeels the ribbon, undressing it with more care than he often shows you, before it rolls free of the paper you managed to find. It catches the ceiling light, glinting, gleaming, the handle looking even more detailed in this light than under the candles you’d had to use to remain discreet.

In your hand, the knife had appeared large, and menacing. In his, it looked right.

Yet, his face looked as though it was anything but.

Enough for you to prod, needle. To nudge closer on your knees, to smooth out the sheets and then flick your lashes up, finding him already staring, weighing it up—whatever coated his tongue, had been written in his mind.

“Sweetheart… I don’t… I don’t deserve this—”

More words fall in silence, not quite spoken, yet somehow loud.

Enough for you to say his name, to rest your knee on the bed and deeply sigh.

“You…’m not a good man.”

You almost laugh, but you don’t. Crawling up, placing your hand on his chest, you take a shaky breath. “I’m not sure I care.”

And you don't.

Because it's easy to feel something for him, to love him. It's natural, there one day and the day after. It wasn't hard or difficult, but very fucking easy.

Your mouth even opens to say as much, but you close it again before a syllable is muttered.

Wrapping the gift, he moves it from between the two of you, to the bedside table. His fingers linger, hovering over the carved wood—the one which caused splinters and made your eyes almost cross over. “Y’should. M’not an easy man to love.”

“I disagree,” you whisper, fingers having slid up to the base of his neck, your fingers teasing his curls. “Since I’m pretty sure I already feel those things for you.”

His brows lift, and you smile—letting it speak the words you can’t say, and you’re sure he’s not willing to hear.

“Don’t sweat it, alright? You’re mine, I’m yours. Yeah?”

Nodding, he bites his cheek, placing the knife back into the packaging—moving it, replacing what he’d been holding with your wrist as he pulls you close.

“Got you somethin’ too.”

Nose bumping his, you shift closer, thighs finding themselves on either side of him—his hands finding a place on them, sliding up, callouses grazing on your skin, before squeezing.

“But y’gotta wait until the 25th. Like a good girl.”

Smirking, you cup his cheeks. "Okay, Miller. I'll wait."

an: merry christmas, i hope you love this <3

#pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x female reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfic #tlou joel x reader

[fallingdownhell]

Genshin men when you bring them home to meet the parents and they find out that your sister is the favored child of the family and she now has her eyes set on them.

Uhhh, I really like that idea.. It has so much angst potential... but am I gonna do it...?

Characters Included: Heizou; Thoma; Alhaitham

Content: gender neutral reader; reader has a sister; slight cursing; some jealousy themes; nothing else besides that

Word count: 2k words

Have fun reading!<3

Heizou

He is so fucking nervous!

He is good at hiding it, but you know him by now, you know how he gets and how he acts when he doesn't want others to know his true feelings, so you know and are aware of it

Heizou knows about your strained relationship with your family. Your parents having favoured your sister over you, no matter the circumstances

you did have contact with your family, but it was on a very low, unregular basis. Not that he minded that, though. It was your life, your decision. He's sure you wouldn't do that without having a good reason for it.

You had agreed on a nice, easy dinner at your parents house where they would get the chance to meet your boyfriend for the first time

upon arriving at the house where you spent your childhood, Heizou got more and more nervous. Somewhere along the way, he grabbed one of your hands, holding it tightly in his own.

you tried reassuring him, giving him a small smile as you held his hand, and it did help him a bit

soon, your mother answered the front door, followed by your father and introductions were made

Heizou held your hand throughout the entire thing, not daring to let go of you, but he seemed to relax more and more as the seconds went by

your parents noticed this as well, looking briefly at your joined hands, but chose not to say anything about it

you sat down on the table and a few minutes later, your sister arrived

she was acting entirely over the top with you, throwing herself at you and acting far too friendly. It made you somewhat uncomfortable, but you didn't say anything, not wanting to ruin the good mood that everyone has

for the first few minutes of dinner, everything seemed fine. Conversations were held, your parents asked Heizou some questions, nothing too bad

but then, your mom made some comment about you again, and it all went downhill from there for you

"You know, you're exactly the type of man we always wanted for our daughter. Are you sure you want to settle with (name)?"

then, your mother proceeded on to tell him every little thing about your sister. How she was working a much better job than you with better hours and more pay. How she was more beautiful than you. How she was just in general the better choice between the two of you

Heizou was dumbfounded by this behaviour and he now understood entirely why you had almost no contact with your family. This has been your entire life? Archons, he wanted to rip them a new one, for your own sake..

your mother was still rambling on, your sister just sitting there, smiling at Heizou, thinking that he was considering his options

everyone, including you, was surprised when he suddenly slammed his hands on the table, making all eyes fall on him

"With all due respect, Ma'am. I would rather die than do something so horrible to (Name). They are a wonderful partner, the best I could ever wish for. So, pardon us, but we are going to take our leave now."

with that, he grabbed your hand and you both walked out of the house, ignoring the calls of your family for you to come back and that they didn't mean it like that

secretly though, you were so glad and relieved. When your mother started saying stuff like that again, you just mentally accepted that this was it, yet again.

But Heizou surprised you and stood up for you against your own family. It made you feel so incredibly loved and cared for

that night, he hugged you closer to him than ever before, now reassuring you that you were his number one, that he loved you only and would do everything in this world, just to see you smile again...

Thoma

He's such a sweet partner, always caring about you and making sure that you're comfortable with him

Thoma likes to be a provider in a relationship. In the sense that he likes to cook for you, help you clean up, doing little things for you around the house. It's his way of saying "I love you"

Thoma will never push you into doing anything you don't want to, or making you open up to him

he's more than happy to take things slowly, earning your trust

and when you finally open up to him about whatever things you want to talk about, he's there for you, listening to everything you have to say without interrupting you

he also knows about the strained relationship with your family. He might not know all the details, but he knows enough to trust you in your decisions regarding the matter

he would never comment on it or make you do anything since it's not his place to judge or intrude on

with that being said, it just so happened that one day, while out shopping for ingredients, he ran into a certain someone

well, more like, a certain someone that ran into him. She profusely apologized for running into him and somehow got him tangled up into conversation

Thoma, being the nice person that he is, tried finding a way out of the conversation without coming across as rude. But, honestly, he just wanted to get home to you as soon as possible

Somehow, the conversation shifted and the topic of partners came up. Thoma said that he was happily taken right now, but she just kept pressing with her questions until your name slipped out his mouth

Thoma could clearly see how her eyes lit up at the mention of your name and he had a feeling that she would just bombard him with thousands more questions

so, he quickly made up an excuse and got out of there, walking home at a fast pace

once he arrived, he told you about the encounter he just had, which made you think. It all sounded strangely familiar to you, even his description of the person rang a bell somewhere in your mind

however, you didn't have much more time to dwell on those thoughts as a knock could be heard from the front door

exchainging glances, you went to answer the door, only to find your sister standing in front of you

eyes wide, you wondered how she found you here, but that question was quickly answered

"Oh, so you ARE his lover! God, now I'm so glad I followed him all the way back here!"

She threw herself in your arms, then quickly abandoned you and went inside your home. You were still so shocked and didn't realize this but when you came back to your senses, you quickly went inside again to the kitchen were you heard her voice from

Thoma was looking at you confused as well, but she just continued talking to him like nothing had happened and they were still out in the city where she ran into him

"...I mean, I'm so glad it was you! You're so handsome, and strong apparently for carrying all those bags back here! Say, why are you with (Name) anyway? Like, they have no redeeming qualities. You should look for more suitable partners, like me! I could give you so much more!"

She smiled at him like her little speech would be all it takes for Thoma to change his mind. The sad part was, you were expecting it to work as well, having dealt with exactly that your entire life, she always got what she wanted

"...Out.", Thoma said. It was the only thing he said, but his tone was so unusal from his normal self. It was cold and demanding, making your sister shiver in her place.

She quickly grabbed her stuff and left your home again, not saying another word

You looked after her for a second, but then in the next you felt two strong arms wrap around you from behind, his face burrying itself in the crock of your neck

for a long time, he remained silent, before he spoke again. "Sorry. I'm so sorry you had to deal with that for so long."

you were perplexed at his words, but quickly hugged him back, silently thanking him for staying by your side

Alhaitham

To most people, Alhaitham comes off as a cold and calculated person without any emotions

most people will be surprised when they find out that he was indeed in a committed relationship

and they were even more surprised when they find out how sweet, loving and expressive you are

most would think that he would want a partner similar to him, closed off and not all that social. But you are the exact opposite to that

Not that Alhaitham was paying any mind to the opinions of others about him and his love life in the first place

To you, Alhaitham was the most ideal partner you could have hoped for

he was caring, attentive towards you, listened to you even if he didn't give that impression

his attention was always on you, you were in his thoughts when not with him. Just completely head over heels for you

However, he would not know about the strained relationship with your parents. He knew you weren't in much contact with them, and that's all he really needed or wanted to know. He never bothered you about it

But then, one day, you asked him if he wanted to meet your parents. You seemed unsure about the proposal, but in the end, he agreed to it nevertheless

the days before the event, you became a nervous mess. Alhaitham had no idea what was going on, but he tried to be there for you and support you

he did ask if you wanted to talk to him about anything, but you declined and he didn't push you anymore after that

then, the evening finally arrived where you were meeting up with your family at a local restaurant

when you arrived, your partents and sister were already there, waiting on the two of you. your mother spotted you first, waving to grab your attention

you then went over to sit with them

Introductions were a bit awkward at first, but after a few minutes, things seemed to settle down a bit as your parents engaged in conversation with you, trying to catch up on things

However, it quickly became clear to Alhaitham that your sister was always trying to upstage you with absolutely anything. You got a good job? Well, she got an even better one. You got paid so and so much? Well, wouldn't you look at that, her numbers were even higher than yours

at first, you tried to ignore it, but as always, your parents quickly began ignoring you again, instead congratulating your sister on how good she was doing for herself. It dampened your mood quite a bit, but you still wanted to give this a chance

that was, until your sister said something very specific. "Yeah. The only thing missing to top it all of would be an amazing boyfriend now. Say, Alhaitham. Why don't you dump my sibling and get with me instead?" She even winked at him after saying this

Immediately, your parents agreed to her proposal, looking expectantly at Alhaitham

said man only took a quick glance at everyone at the table, before throwing some money on the table, grabbing your hand and standing up, heading for the exit

"I listened to you disrespecting my partner for long enough. And you wonder why they hold no contact with you anymore. Really, I'm glad they got out of your grasp."

With that, you both left the restaurant. None of you spoke a word until you got to Alhaitham's house again, where he immediately pulled you into his arms as soon as you were inside

so for a while, you just stood there in his embrace while he silently reassured you that you had nothing to worry about

you were the only one to him and he would spend his entire life proving this to you if necessary..

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin x reader headcanons #genshin impact x reader headcanons #heizou x reader #heizou x you #heizou headcanons #genshin impact heizou #thoma x reader #thoma x you #thoma headcanons #genshin impact thoma #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham headcanons #genshin impact alhaitham #genshin impact hurt/comfort

[suguru-getos]

just some over-affectionate yan!sato blabbering

yandere satoru hasn't really snapped at you, he just doesn't. always playful, always an embodiment. waking you up with peppers of kisses, making sure you have your favorite breakfast, making sure you relax around him. he even indulges in your silly little hobbies, all for the sake of making his baby comfortable. if you like painting, he is going to buy you all the colors there are, premium quality canvas boards and everything you'd ever need to bring your imaginations into reality. digital art? then you have an ipad with procreate and a pencil, anything and everything you need.

he doesn't say it but he is extremely observant, he even notices things like your skincare before you were kidnapped, and goes out of his way to upgrade it if needed. he can be a little pesky at times. what if his baby is using the wrong skin-care? probably going to fly you to the skin and beauty land 'korea' to have your skin checked, and then buy you the 'recommended' skincare.

same with aesthetics, you like wearing a certain type of fits, you have them littered in your closet room. he prefers changing styles and wouldn't mind upgrading/donating your wardrobe when you're also bored with the same ol' things.

your room is a mixture of everything you are, and trinkets of satoru in it. you are really not allowed to sleep in your room though. it's your space, just your happy corner. it doesn't have a bed. it has plush couches that are better than most beds, neon-light which speaks of your name and scented candles, perfect desks with the perfect desk mats. you just need to sleep with satoru.

he gets specifically testy when you really don't want to give him company at times. why? hasn't he done enough? most people would kill to be in your place. that's when you can see the cracks in his carefully calibrated persona he harbors for you.

he is usually very mellow, clingy and would be so playful you often forget how strong he is. "baby- but i want cuddles!" satoru whined, pulling you close to him while you squirmed when you weren't in the mood. satoru hasn't really pushed himself sexually, but he treats you like a pet in other stances. meaning - if not huggable why so cute? so you can't really escape from him during those times.

if you really, really try hard. his laughter, soft eyes, all of it drops. the usual high-pitched excitement too... "i will count to three. if you don't really come to me, there would be consequences." you haven't really checked on what the consequences are because that sets you straight instantly.

satoru HATES when you fear him, some part of him snaps so hard at that he ends up scaring you more. this happens when he's pissed about something and you flinch/wince at his tone. he hasn't done anything to make you scared... yet? though sometimes the way he comes home... reeking of dead curses, reeking of torment and torture. you automatically end up fearing him.

there was one time you took things too far, taking his leniency too far and going out without asking him. he hasn't locked the doors like a barbarian and you're making him question if he should... that's when he took you to one of his missions. shaking, quivering as you cling to him while the curse in front of you begged for death, for being exorcised while satoru made sure it healed and then continued his torture. blaming it on you as you sobbed, anxiety and palpitations all over you. "see, this is what i do... when you don't behave. you cause pain from me to others." he just wants you to know he is/can be fucked up.

would eventually feel extremely bad when you throw up from the gore and anxiety and finish the job, bringing you home and forcing you in his arms, crying with you at how bad it makes him feel to see you like this. how he would kill himself than making you cry, though a part of him is grateful that you wouldn't really go against him for a long, long while.

whenever any action done by him fucks you up, satoru takes responsibility of undoing it. even if sometimes he needs to make sure you stay with him, no matter the consequences... he would try his best to make up for it. always pestering, always kissing you, praising you for being so good to him even if you're not, behaving like an ideal boyfriend to the point where even you start suspecting if the problem is you.

he loves so sickeningly hard you end up deluded enough to consider yourself the 'toxic' one. :3

#gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo imagines #gojo hcs #jjk imagines #jjk hcs #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

the elitism in magic education

HELLO 🤡 I have come to you today with an analysis of Fellow Honest's motives and what they imply about the mages and non-mages in the world of Twisted Wonderland, as well as the state of magic education as it relates to one's social status. It's a doozy, so let's get right into it! ***WARNING: Spoilers for Stage in Playful Land!!***

Fellow's resentment of the elite harkens back to something I've always suspected but also something that Twisted Wonderland has seldom gone out of its way to shine a harsh spotlight on. That "something" is the discrepancy between the "haves" and the "have-nots" in terms of magic. With the main setting of TWST being a private magic school, of course the lens through which we view many events will be from this perspective as well... and that limits what we see and hear. Most of the NPCs we encounter (even the annoying ones, such as the Magicam Monsters from the first Halloween event) endlessly praise the NRC students just for attending a famous magic school. If we look closely though, we’ll start to see cracks in the shiny rose-colored lenses (which, coincidentally, is how Fellow’s UM name is written).

To begin with, we are told that only 10% of the human population (for the sake of argument, let's assume that most other races also have low magic rates) is even capable of magic to begin with. Of this 10%, the majority of people with the aptitude for magic only have enough to barely be able to lift a cup. In order to qualify for a prestigious magic school like Night Raven College or Royal Sword Academy, you'd literally have to be the cream of the crop and get lucky in terms of genetics. Magic cannot be learned by someone that was not born with the innate ability for it, and not everyone who is the child of a mage will be capable of magic themselves. This is already one HUGE barrier for entry. We now have more to consider.

Night Raven College is notably a private boarding school. This potentially means that students may need to pay a tuition fee for classes, room, and board. Perhaps this tuition doesn't exist, since NRC doesn't take applications but rather hand-selects its students. Additionally, NRC is based on a British school, and most European schools cost little to nothing to attend. However, it's hard to believe a school as fancy as NRC is a private institution that runs solely on the charity and goodwill of donors (though we do see Crowley happily accepting donations as well, specifically from the local town and from Kalim’s family). Realistically speaking, Stuff Costs Money, and if you Want Stuff, you also Need Money. NRC is not raising these mages of the future out of the goodness of their hearts, NRC is raising these mages because there is profit and prestige to be gained from the endeavor. What if there are students who are picked to go but end up having to leave because they can’t afford it?? This point is just speculative though; I won’t count it as actual evidence since there is no in-game lore which confirms tuition. We do know, however, that students do at least have to pay for their dorm uniforms, as Ruggie has mentioned he could not afford one—hence why he wears a hand/me-down from Leona. We also know students are on their own when it comes to paying for their food, as both Ruggie and Deuce mention being low on cash in reference to buying meals/snacks. Buuuuut even if we discount that money is a factor that gatekeeps some selected students from attending or having the cash to just get by on a daily basis, what we cannot ignore is that money inherently puts some people ahead of others before magic schools even recruit them.

Because the majority of those in Twisted Wonderland are incapable of using magic, magic is not typically included in general education. This means that if your kid manifests magic and you want them to be "ahead of the curve", you'd need to seek out resources for magic training and education. Now, this could mean reading materials, private tutoring, or reaching out to mages you know of. The problem with all of these things is that they tend to require money and/or connections, which are things not everyone has access to. Idia even says in book 6 that Riddle has an “artificially large” pool of magic due to how young Riddle started his magic training, meaning that the wealthy has the resources to just produce “better” mages. The rich also have more money to throw into items to help with magical training, such as bigger and better magestones (which must sell for substantial amount in the first place since Ruggie tries to save some to pawn off later in Vargas Camp) to keep mages healthier for longer (since magestones help absorb blot). This keeps power concentrated in an already elevated class. (Note: research has shown that money opens up and expands one's connections, which still puts the rich in an advantageous position compared to the less fortunate. There are also studies that show impoverished people who happen to have rich friends have a better chance of raising their own social standing just because of the doors and connections that rich friend can open for them.) Look at who in the main cast remarks on having formal magic training: literal royalty like Leona and the upper middle class like Riddle. Again, one could say that because schools like NRC appear to hand-pick students regardless of how much formal magic training they had prior to enrollment. However, the fact remains that it simply looks better to potential recruiters (using this blanket term because we don't know how magic schools besides NRC gets its students) and better prepares the child for magic school curriculum to get an early start on it.

Looking back at the 22 boys that make up the main cast, close to three-quarters or ~75% of them come from at least upper middle-class backgrounds and quite a few could classify as wealthy:

Riddle's parents are both doctors, with Riddle's mom in particular being well-known and well-regarded in their home community.

Cater's dad is a banker; his position is high enough up that he needs to relocate every so often (presumably to service their largest or most important firms).

Leona is a literal prince. Even if he isn't destined to be king, he still has access to the resources and wealth avaliable to a royal.

Azul's mom owns the most popular restaurant in the entire Coral Sea (have you seen how large the Coral Sea is on the world map???), and his stepdad is a lawyer.

The twins' family is said to be well-off; they are able to afford luxuries like fancy clothes and Mr. Leech stresses the importance of manners and presentation. He is implied to have business associates who are also well-off and would like to get in his good graces. (Popular fan speculation is that the Leeches are a crime family.)

Kalim is the heir to a massive family fortune and trading business. He also has relatives who are royals.

Jamil, as Kalim's attendant, is also from a reasonably well-off family; they are compensated handsomely for handling the Asims.

Vil's father is an A-list celebrity, and Vil is also one himself.

We don't know the specifics of what Rook's family does, but it must be well-paying, as we learn in book 5 that the Hunts have villas all over Twisted Wonderland, as well as permissions for international travel via warp pads.

Idia and Ortho's family run a secret organization that researches blot. S.T.Y.X. is so secretive that basically only those in super high positions like Crowley and Leona would know about them. Let's also not forget that the Shrouds have ties to the Jupiter Conglomerate and the Olympus Corp, which is a tech giant in the world of TWST.

Malleus is prince AND the heir to his kingdom’s throne. He is also one of the top 5 most powerful mages in the entire WORLD.

Lilia is a renown war general and a close friend of royalty. He raised a young Malleus as well.

Silver is Lilia's adopted son and is actually a prince himself.

Sebek's parents are dentists. They must make mad money. His grandfather is also a respected knight that served alongside Lilia.

Notice how all the dorm leaders are upper middle class or higher; the vice dorm leaders have ONE normal person (Trey); in Playful Land, Trey confesses to living a comfortable life so we know he must be at least middle class.

We can try to argue all we like that NRC doesn't discriminate based on social status for their selections, but if that's the case then why are so few of the main cast from impoverished or low-income families? Only Ace, Trey, and Jack count as squarely middle class. Ruggie is the only example we have of someone from a very low socioeconomic status rising up to be among "elites". The other example is Deuce, who comes from a single parent household and has implied they don't have a lot of money (for example: how the VDC/SDC earnings will help out his family). (Epel is kind of a ??? case because depending on where in the story you are, his family could be in financial trouble or not; in book 5, they imply his entire village is having difficulties selling product until Vil promotes Harveston apples on his Magicam.) Maybe it's unfair to say that 22 students out of 800ish is representative of the makeup of the entire NRC student population (or represents the composition of all magic schools), but Ruggie confirms in his Birthday Boy vignettes that a majority of the students at NRC are decently well-off. This single digit representation of low-income students is also true of real-life elite schools. They are private schools for a reason; it naturally gatekeeps who is and isn't "allowed" to attend, leading to the majority of its students being members of the elite.

Another thing to consider is legacy students. This term refers to the increased likelihood of people being accepted into a school if they had a relative that also attended that school. We know of two instances of this happening: Ace's brother and Sebek's brother also went to and graduated from Night Raven College. Ace even makes a remark during his sorting ceremony that he ended up in the same dorm as his older brother "as expected". If magic aptitude is genetic, then perhaps it makes sense to recruit from the same families--but again, this is inherently restrictive, as you would continuously be culling from the same pools generation after generation.

Back on the topic of bloodlines and family, what about Kalim, who has an extensive family? There will be no shortage of Asim mages going to NRC just because of legacy (Jamil even alludes to the fact that the previous Scarabia dorm leader was an Asim relative, and his recommendation is what got Kalim the dorm leader seat). And speaking of Kalim, consider instances where rich families are able to bribe faculty (lookin' at YOU, Crowley) or donate a large sum to get their kid ahead or to be given priority over others that may be more qualified than them (RIP Jamil). To continue off that point, NRC itself is structured as a "dog eat dog" world. Those with inherently more magical ability have the right to trump over others. You can duel and lose your dorm seat to a more powerful mage, even if you trump them in terms of merit or leadership qualities. Students feel a sense of duty to obey those who have bested them in battle (ie Epel's servitude to Vil). Everyone fears Malleus. Your magical power is respected above all else.

Attitudes surrounding magic have notably shifted from fear of it several hundreds of years ago (around the human-fae war, back when “witch” and “wizard” were used in a derogatory sense) to recognizing it for its strengths and actively seeking it or granting some favoritism to those who have it. There is, in fact, now class discrimination in based on whether or not you can use magic. We got an early instance of this as early as book 1 of the main story, when Riddle insults Yuu for their upbringing, lack of education, and their inability to use magic. It’s something that clearly rubs Ace, who has a magicless father, the wrong way, and he stands up for Yuu. There are other subtle hints about this divide sprinkled throughout the lore. For example, Ruggie has a voice line which he indicates that the slums where he comes from doesn’t produce many magic users. Again, recall that magic runs in bloodlines. This could potentially allude to a past where those without magic were forced into lower income neighborhoods, which results in pockets like Ruggie’s hometown with a high population of magicless individuals living in poverty. This doesn’t appear to be a large scale issue (perhaps its only an isolated case?), but this is worth paying attention to.

This could all translate into the professional world too. Some jobs are entirely locked behind magic (ie you just cannot do them or pursue them if you don't have the magical ability for it). Some jobs DO require magic (ie medical mages like Riddle's parents, magic police force officers, technomantic inventors, etc) and probably additional training that goes with it. As a result, I'd imagine that these magic-intensive jobs pay quite a bit more. There may also be overall more job opportunities for those capable of magic, since magic is so much more efficient than doing things by hand. It means more retention of wealth and/or more upward mobility for the few impoverished that are able to enter magic schools. (This is, of course, not including the few and far between cases of regular people who get rich in select industries, such as Kalim’s father.) Recall too that NRC requires its students to take internships during their 4th years, many placements being with very prestigious groups and organizations such as pro-sports teams, labs, tech giants, etc. Being able to attend a prestigious school with connections grants those elite students even more opportunities than the average person.

Then think about what this means for people who fall short of these standards that these magic schools set. We actually have examples of them in book 5 of the main story: when Deuce and Epel are reconciling on the beach, a bunch of delinquents from another school come along and start checking out Deuce’s borrowed magical wheel. Through the NPCs’ exchange, we learn that one of them has enough magic to power a magical wheel, but not enough to do much else. This NPC also couldn’t keep up in class and dropped out of a magic school. He then becomes insulted when Deuce implies he is “a beginner”, so this is obviously a very sore spot for him. Riddle also has dialogue that implies students dropped out of NRC prior to his reign (and since then, no Heartslabyul students have left). Additionally, consider how magic can be used to oppress and lord power over others. Deuce himself is guilty for summoning cauldrons to crush rival delinquents in fights back in Clock Town—even if those delinquents lacked magic themselves. Similarly, Epel is implied to use magic to gain an upper hand against those that bullied him back home. This all implies a social divide between those with magic and those without, and begs of bigger questions.

What happens to the ones that don’t make it? The ones that get left behind? The ones without the magic to make it “big”? This is the root of Fellow’s anger; he’s mad at a system that cast people like him (someone with very little magic) and Gidel (a non-mage) aside. They don’t get the opportunity to make better futures for themselves. They’re looked down on by high-up institutions that basically tell them they’re not good enough.

Knowing all of this, the deck appears to be stacked against the poor and non-mages. It’s no wonder why Fellow is so mad.

THIS ACTUALLY RELATES BACK TO WHAT ROLLO SAID IN 5-2 OF GLORIOUS MASQUERADE… "When you have too little [magic], you're resentful. And when you have plenty [of magic], you're arrogant. You can never content yourselves." The NRC boys are arrogant (this is the side of the story we’ve always known due to seeing the world mainly from their perspective). They are the “haves”, and we see them constantly misusing their power by fighting each other over very petty things (even if it’s against the rules to do so). But everyone else??? They’re scrounging for the scraps. Fellow falls into that former category; he IS the guy that’s resentful because of his lack of magic and how something he cannot control has already determined where he and Gidel will stand in life no matter how hard they work. They can never hope to rise out of poverty, and there’s nothing they can do about it. That must be soul-crushing.

When Fellow praises the NRC boys in that overly exaggerated way, he’s obviously being shady and facetious—however, there is also a kernel of truth behind this behavior. Most other NPCs we’ve met have spoken about the NRC boys favorably just because of their affiliation with a prestigious school. It’s the same way people might be impressed if you walked around in an Ivy League branded hoodie or something. People automatically associate you with the school’s shiny and exclusive reputation, and thus assume you are also intelligent, talented, etc. Then, in the same way being constantly put on a pedestal like this might result in the students getting swelled heads, this only further feeds into the NRC kids’ egos. They so privileged they don’t even recognize it. And that makes Fellow fucking FUME.

Look back at Fellow's dialogue. He is constantly mentioning the prestige of the school the boys go to, or adding on extra compliments about their status and skills. He's ass-kissing to his boss, who is also wealthy or part of the upper class, then insults the boss once he hangs up. Fellow is always in a position where he HAS to be subservient to the upper class in order to make his money and get by, and he finds that entirely unfair. Imagine having to simper and placate people you absolutely despise and blame for your problems every day, people who are gorging themselves on luxuries, coasting by in life, taking everything they have for granted while you get by on pennies—that has to get frustrating.

I want to briefly mention here that, in addition to praising the NRC students to high heaven, Fellow also talks down his own skills. He cheerfully calls himself a loser and says that no matter how much he trains, he could never reach their caliber of magic. Yes, Fellow is exaggerating to get the kids to think they’ve won, but I also have to wonder if he’s parroting the same phrases he was told long ago, from people who doubted him and never thought he’d make it. If that’s the case, then I get the sense that Fellow is in a way “reclaiming” his autonomy and power by adopting those same cruel words and using them as a strength. He admits to being “weak” but is also proud of the fact that he can utilize his magic along with his natural charisma to get a leg up over others. It further fuels his new belief that going to an elite school doesn’t matter, it’s practical skills that will serve you well.

Okay, back to talking about his shitty work situation! Fellow’s employer clearly doesn’t treat him with decency. They berate him, make unreasonable demands, act impatient, etc. They are a typical depiction of a toxic workplace and boss. This can also be read as shorthand for the relation between the rich and the poor, and how that may have shaped (or worsened) Fellow’s views on others of the privileged class. He makes many assumptions about the NRC students without really getting to know them, calling them entitled brats. Why? Because these descriptors likely apply to the higher-ups Fellow has always slaved away for. This, in combination with his own experiences in being rejected from magic academia, has created a person who feels trodden on by society and by the upper echelons who run it and benefit off the system.

Fellow himself is the perfect example of someone who was failed by said system. He has dialogue stating that he was never given the chance to learn because his magic was not considered strong enough. Still, he tried to make an effort to earn that chance among to elites and to study among them. Fellow was rejected, ridiculed, and told he had “forgotten his place”, what he had been born into. There were expectations he couldn’t meet, and so Fellow was thrown away like a broken toy. He has failed not because he didn’t try, but because he was denied the opportunity to begin with. This is where is rage stems from. Fellow despises the students of those same kinds of institutions who kicked him down, students who don’t realize how fortunate they are for their educations and will likely continue to perpetuate the system.

What, then, does that means for his signature spell, which is closely tied to one’s identity? Let’s take a magnifying glass to it. As previously mentioned, the name for Fellow’s spell is written as “Rose-Tinted Dream”, but it is said out loud as “Life is Fun”. The chant for it is, “Come on to the theater” (notably said in English rather than in Japanese). Both the spell and the incantation are references to the song Honest John sings in Pinocchio, Hi- Diddle-Dee-Dee. And… well, the whole UM in of itself is one big cruel joke given his circumstances now.

I think this spell is representative of a young Fellow still full of hopes and dreams, looking forward to studying at a magic school. But then those dreams are shattered and he has to commit terrible crimes to survive day-to-day, and he seems to have given up on his dreams. He even goes so far as to protect Gidel from having the same hopes he once did, telling Yuu to not put silly ideas in his head when Gidel expressed curiosity about school. At the same time, he delights in crushing the hopes of those he deems his enemies (stating that he wanted to betray Kalim to “teach him a lesson” about how cruel the world is). Fellow knows the truth: that life isn’t fun, that it will disappoint you and will put you down. His actions are very cowardly as well—he uses tricks and deception, he runs away from his problems instead of properly addressing them, the NRC students remark on his lack of pride. Fellow has had to throw away so much to scrape by. Yet his UM symbolizes someone brimming with hope—so perhaps it’s a UM he manifested when Fellow still thought he had a chance?? And then people made fun of him for it being so weak?? Alternatively, maybe he didn’t get his UM until after his dreams were crushed so he’s looking back on those nostalgic days of blissful ignorance with rose-colored lenses (which is, again, maybe why his UM magic name is written as “Rose Tinted Dream”). A UM that is a reflection of one’s true self, yet that same identity is one that has been forced to be discarded. That’s the reason why, despite all the swindling and scamming, I don’t think Fellow’s enthusiasm for fun is a lie. That’s the one “real” part of him, but even that’s been repurposed to help him live on scraps, something innocent twisted 😭 and that’s really sad to think about…

But also??? You could argue that Fellow still has a little bit of that lost inner child and hope left in him. He tries to defend Gidel’s understanding of the world and has goals of starting his own school despite how poorly he originally spoke about these institutions. (So Fellow does appear to care about children and their futures.) He also has a childish streak despite being an adult, demonstrated by his use of cowardly tactics, taunting kids, and abruptly quitting his job to then destroy his workplace. Fellow himself states that he “just tries to live a free and fun life”, thus his pursuit of money and pleasure. This could all play into being what defines Fellow and thus his UM. It embodies a spirit of playfulness even when he has been crushed under the weight of an unglamorous life.

I’ve heard people saying that while Rollo is Idia’s dark mirror and Fellow is Ruggie’s. They have similar backstories but ultimately their fates are different and left the former two down far more sinister paths. Just as Rollo is an Idia that turned his anger outward instead of inward, Fellow is Ruggie had he not been given a chance to receive an education to elevate his social status and job prospects. Fellow and Ruggie both cling to rich, powerful benefactors/bosses and do their dirty work to get on by—a big difference is that Leona, while he does also work Ruggie to the bone, also has some conscience. Something else to consider is that while Ruggie prioritizes making a life for himself by studying and securing a stable, well-paying job, Fellow is focused moreso on the accumulation of wealth itself (as he suggests to Kalim he’ll take a bribe to let him go free and quits when there is no longer money to be gained from his boss). Both don’t really care how they get their money (even if it is by dirty means), but ultimately Ruggie’s way of making cash is more sustainable in the long run. Yet Fellow ultimately realizes the importance of school deep down despite constantly denying it when the NRC students tell him of it. Fellow is in denial because that’s the only way he can cope and justify his lifestyle. He’s confused when finally confronted with students who are his ideal of “happy and free”, even when they’re in an educational system that he views as shackling people into strict roles. The way he laments about not being able to go to school is also very reminiscent of an adult mourning a lost or unfulfilling childhood, which is quite a depressing scenario…

Fellow is the one that got the short end of the stick in life. Ruggie met Leona, and Leona technically uplifted him in his endeavors, tutored him into getting decent grades and giving him hand-me-downs and money in exchange for his services. Fellow never had that kind of support system, he was just insulted and bullied into giving up and had to find an alternative way to keep himself going 😔

Personally, I think Fellow could also be a dark mirror to Kalim, no?? They exist on opposite ends of a social spectrum. Kalim has everything and Fellow had nothing. What’s more, Kalim is still wide-eyed and trusting. He is the only one willing to try words instead of fighting him and instantly labeling him as the enemy. Meanwhile, Fellow has become bitter because of how the world has betrayed him. He wants to take that trust Kalim has and show him how cruel everything truly is. Why is he fixated on that? Why even offer in the first place if he never intended on going through with it? Why does he want to rub it in Kalim’s face in particular? Maybe it’s because Kalim seems rich and dumb, as Fellow claims, but maybe it’s because there is envy there. Sure, Fellow is upset about Kalim being a sheltered brat that faces no challenges in life, but I also feel like he’s jealous that Kalim can still afford to think this way. That he can still afford to be cheerful, that he can still be a dreamer. Fellow was alluded to be like that once—but he can’t be like that anymore, not when he has to look out for himself and Gidel.

Side note, another comparison! Recall that Kalim’s Oasis Maker is also a UM that uses a little bit of magic. However, Kalim does not know of many creative ways to use his spell, as there is no real reason to since his home country has lots of canals and irrigation. He therefore deems his UM as pretty useless. Fellow meanwhile has what most consider a weak UM but he fully utilizes it to his advantage and pairs it well with his natural charm to maximize its effects. He had to develop these skills because he was in pressing circumstances in which they would benefit him. This contributes to the “mirror” theme between the two.

Fellow and Kalim have a notable similarity as well, and this is where I feel they can connect. They are both older brothers to a child or children who are magicless. Fellow only has one, and Kalim has many—but the number here isn’t what is important. What is important is that Fellow and Kalim think the world of their siblings and want to support them. To that end, Fellow is willing to be cruel and step on others, and Kalim is all sunshine to keep their spirits up. Fellow has suffered through great poverty and insults and Kalim has survived so many attempts on his life, yet they’ve developed distinctly different approaches to the worlds that have embraced them. Kalim’s wealth could afford him protection and luxuries, so he’s able to live carefree with others tending to his needs. The same isn’t true for Fellow, and so he came out far more spiteful and resentful.

Thinking about it, it’s ultimately Kalim’s words that convince Fellow to turn on his employer. (The other boys certainly wore Fellow down and planted the seeds of doubt, but it’s Kalim that I believe fully resonates with Fellow.) He can so happily talk about why he loves school, even though he doesn’t do well at it (something I presume is also true of Fellow, since he is lacking in tons of magic). It’s not said in a particularly articulate manner, but it’s so candid in its presentation. Kalim is relating to him based on similar skillset (or lack thereof) and sharing fond memories of his time at school, reviving the hopeful “lost child” in Fellow. Kalim is probably the first wealthy person in a long time that was friendly, kind, and supportive to him. And here he is, reassuring Fellow his dreams are still possible, to not give up. That’s the final nail that allows Fellow to be “honest” with himself and his inner child. It’s what leads to that slew of irresponsible actions at the end of the event (letting people free, blasting the amusement park, driving a sinking ship, etc.).

At the end of Stage in Playful Land, we see that Fellow never really let that childlike side of him fully die. (It seems to have been concealed under a desire for money and appeasing his boss.) He shares his dream of creating his own great school to give educational opportunities to non-mages and mages with low magical reserves like Gidel and himself, a school that teaches practical life lessons. He wants to promote his own ideals and to change the system he hates from the inside out. This was never communicated to us before most likely because Fellow had renounced those ideas in favor of blind hatred and a lack of faith in the world and those that dominate it.

Fellow also acknowledges that life may be even more difficult for him and Gidel going forward, as now they lack the money for even food and no longer have jobs. Furthermore, they need to worry about their ex-employers coming after them for what they’ve done. Even so, Fellow faces it all with a smile and reassures everyone that they can transfer or visit to play… “on this shining stage called life”. He and Gidel are able to walk away with their whimsy preserved, and can still be that which they’ve always wanted to be: dreamers.

All of this is to say that Rollo was right all along about magic, he never misses—

#twst #twisted wonderland #Fellow Honest #twisted wonderland analysis #twisted wonderland character analysis #twst analysis #twst character analysis #Ferro Honest #Rollo Flamme #Gidel #Gidell #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #spoilers #Dire Crowley #Heartslabyul #Savanaclaw #Octavinelle #Scarabia #Pomefiore #Ignihyde #Diasomnia #Yuu #Ruggie Bucchi #Kalim Al-Asim #Jamil Viper #Pinocchio #Honest John #Riddle Rosehearts #Ruggi Bucchi

[webslingingslasher]

i'm a sucker for angst to fluff. what if parker's friends say some mean things ab your body but parker doesn't defend you. that night, you won't cuddle him, you won't even sleep in the same bed because you don't wanna disgust him... and peter has to make it up to you.

parker is a dunce!!! peter supremacy!

Peter had two sets of friend groups. 

The first one was the original one. Kids he grew up with, suffered through high school and flew into the freedom of college with him. The group you knew the most of, they were the closest to him and nearly the entire group became your friends too. Weekends spent smashing drinks and staying up too late before hitting up a diner for greasy burgers at four in the morning. 

Then the second group, which you did not know well, don’t know how Peter knows them and can’t fathom why Peter would entertain them. 

It’s split like this. 

With friend group A, he’s Peter.

With friend group B, he’s Parker. 

You don’t like Parker; not one bit. 

Parker can be stark, blunt, bold and cocky. 

It was the friend group, they made him believe he was one of them so sometimes he acted a little too much like them. It wasn’t ever too bad, just the stuff you know he normally wouldn’t feed into, he gorged. 

His friend, leader of the group, Nick, said it in passing. It’s not the first time you met, granted you try to spend as little time as possible with them but you also won’t give them the cold shoulder. The mutual understanding with friend group B is that you both are there for Peter’s sake, it just makes things easier. 

Nick threw his beer back, foam swirled to the top. His long arm extended to the seat next to him, his watch clicked against the chair top. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t bag someone with a better body, Parker.” A sharp wink is thrown at your boyfriend, and in response he snorted, “yeah, right.” 

It was sarcastic, you’ll give him that. But he didn’t give more, you waited for the ‘real funny, but don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.’ However, he just rubbed your shoulder and sent a small smile, almost like he was saying, ‘you know how it is.’ 

You didn’t miss the tiny curl of Nick’s lip when you shook Peter’s hand off your arm. 

If he couldn’t stand up to his friends over a shit comment then why would you let him put his hands on your body, knowing everyone thinks he could do better?

—------------------------------

Peter frowned when you pulled away from his grasp, he was going for a hug but you floated away. You were quiet on the ride back, not starting conversation but not letting it fail either. 

If Peter could describe your emotion right now it would be ‘fine.’ 

“C’mon, gimme a hug.” 

You cross your arms, “you sure you want your hands on me?” 

Peter reaches out and tries to pull one hand back with the other but his right hand breaks free and grabs you, “I can’t control them! They need you too much.” 

Sometimes it’s really, really hard to be upset with him. 

“I’m gonna take a shower,” you pull away, forcing yourself to stand up for yourself, if the situation was reversed you’d shut it down at the dinner table. Not smile sympathetically and give him an ‘oh well!’ 

“Want company?” 

Disappointment covers your features, “not really.” 

He wouldn’t stand up to defend the body he loves but he wants to be first in line to use it. 

“Oh. Okay, if you want I’ll make us some ice cream cones and set up a movie?” 

You shrug, “sure.” 

Peter knows what’s wrong but he views it as a boundary issue between his friends and him, not you. He knows what he needs to do but doesn’t want to involve you further. 

That message doubles down when you told him you would sleep on his couch tonight, he woke you up after the movie to take you to bed when you shrugged him off, “I’ll sleep here tonight,” that never happens, ever. 

“No, c’mon, I’ll carry you.” 

His hands slipped under your thigh when you rolled over, “if it wasn’t so late I’d be at home. Consider yourself lucky that I’m still here.” 

So, Peter presses a kiss to your temple with an “alright, honey. Goodnight, we can talk in the morning, okay?” 

When he walks away you mumble under your breath, “hope you dream about girls with better bodies.” He hears you, it takes everything in him to not bring you with him. 

—----------------------------------

Noise woke you up. 

The room was bright, sleeping in the living room left you exposed to nearly every window in the apartment. Peter’s room was dark and cool, if you were in there it could be well into mid morning before you rose. 

There was a blanket on you that wasn’t there last night, it’s one from Peter’s room, he keeps an extra by his bed for you. The sun peering in warmed up the room and you started to feel just a little too warm. 

You almost forgot why you were awake until you heard a cabinet shut loudly and a soft curse murmured from the kitchen. Peter was up early making breakfast, you know he feels largely guilty. It almost makes everything okay. 

It took heat swarming your face for you to pull the blanket away, the cool breeze from his ceiling fan felt really good. You yawn, then cough from a dry throat. 

“Baby?” 

You sniff, nothing more than a harsh breath, “morning.” Your voice croaks from the couch, you hear shuffling, steps get louder until you looked up at his face peering over you. 

“I slept like shit, how about you?” 

You stretch your arms over your head, “no complaints.” 

Peter recognizes you’re still mad. 

“Waffles or pancakes?” 

You grin, “french toast.” 

Peter leans over the back of the couch, his lips puckered. “Deal,” you push his chin away. “No kisses, you’re on time out.” 

He wanted to wait until after breakfast but he really can’t last that long without a kiss. 

“Okay, come here.” 

You got up and followed him, he grabbed his phone sitting on the counter and gestured to taking a seat at the breakfast bar. Peter unlocked his phone and tapped around, he handed it towards you, you looked at him confused before he wiggled it. “Take it, read it.” 

Taking his phone you looked down, it was blurry and you had to blink a few times. Peter busy with moving around the kitchen. 

A text thread between him and Nick. 

“hey man, I know you didn’t mean anything by it but you hurt some feelings by that comment tonight. From here on out no jokes on or about her, cool?” 

“Ah shit man, my bad. I didn’t mean to get you yelled at, no jokes about the lady in front of her from now on.” 

“I mean don’t joke about her, ever. It’s not cool to me, and it disrespects my girlfriend.” 

“Say less, I’ll tell the guys, no more jokes about parker’s girl.” 

“Appreciate it, man.” 

A small pout takes over your face, he texted it last night after you got home. If you can track it back it would’ve been around the time you were in the shower, unprompted he stuck up for you. 

Peter stood up for you, he had your back. 

You assumed he didn’t, but he just didn’t make a scene. He kept cool and calm until he was back at home, in regards to not embarrassing you or his friends and maybe damaging either relationship. 

You click your tongue, your boyfriend meets your eyes, he’s awaiting a response. 

“Well, now it’s hard to be mad.” 

“I will always defend your honor, sweetheart. Just because I don’t do it at that moment doesn’t mean I wont, okay? I love you and you are absolutely the hottest woman I could ever bag, alright?” 

You respond with countless kisses and cuddles, Peter needs to nearly peel you off his body so he can use the stove safely, but not one complaint utters from his lips. 

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker blurb #tasm!peter one shot #tasm!peter x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #tasm! peter parker x reader #my writing #frat!peter

[bleedingoptimism]

It’s a little after eleven when Eddie finally manages to get Tarja to bed. It’s hard for her without her plushie. And really, Eddie is very thankful having a hyper-fixation with her toy seems to be the only ‘consequence’ of having divorced parents Tarja seems to have right now. He always worries if having two homes and constantly moving between them is good for her or not. Especially with Tommy being Tarja’s other dad, but against all odds, he’s good to her. So their kid is doing just fine. She’s happy. And if she’s happy, Eddie is happy.

He’s getting ready to open a beer and relax when there’s a knock on the door. He smiles, assuming is Steve bringing Toothless over and almost knocks his beer to the floor when he opens the door.

Steve looks… well he looks amazing, dressed to the nines. Must’ve been date night. But his eyes are red and puffy, his face covered in dark blotches, and his lips are swollen like he’s been biting them too much.

He’s hugging Toothless to his chest and he smiles at Eddie when he sees him, but he looks so sad it breaks his heart.

Eddie throws the beer behind him, sure it will land on the couch and cradles Steve’s face between his hands, “What did that asshole do?

Steve leans into his touch and shuts his eyes for a moment before sighing and stepping away from him, walking inside and sitting on the couch still holding Toothless like a lifeline. 

“Nothing, he was just-” Steve shakes his head and chuckles darkly, “He’s just so mean,” 

Eddie drops to his knees in front of him and dips his head to look Steve in the eye just like he did that day in the park.

“Break up with him,” he says.

“I can’t.”

“Tommy doesn't deserve you, Steve. You are worth so much more than what that asshole makes you feel. You deserve better. More. Everything,” Eddie pleads, placing his hands on Steve’s knees and squeezing, “If it’s because of Tarja, we’ll figure something out, ok? Lots of people keep in contact with their parent’s significant other after they break up” He rushes, the speech he didn't have quite prepared last week coming out of him in a single breath, “We are friends, right? So you can still visit and see her. Visit me. You don’t have to stop being a part of our lives.” 

Steve is staring at him right now like Eddie just gifted him the moon and he’s so beautiful it’s kind of hard for Eddie to keep eye contact, but he squeezes Steve’s knees again to ground himself and does. Steve needs to know he’s very serious about this. About him.

Eyes shining, Steve takes a deep breath and nods slowly, a tear falling down his cheek that Eddie follows with his eyes and watches until it hides under Steve’s v-neck shirt.

“Hey, even I didn’t put up with Tommy's shit for Tarja’s sake and I birthed her,” he jokes awkwardly, trying to make him laugh and feels like doing a little victory dance when Steve snorts cutely,

“Okay,” he hiccups.

“Yeah?” Eddie smiles back at him, relieved.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “Fuck Tommy.” And drops back on the couch, looking exhausted, “Can I stay here tonight?” he asks in a whisper, like he’s afraid Eddie will say no. As if.

“Yeah, of course,” Is what he answers, and has half a mind to invite him into his bed but knows it’s a terrible idea. So he lends Steve his favorite flannel pajamas and sets blankets and a pillow on the couch and they say their goodnights.

And if he does a little dance when he closes the door to his room, no one is there to see.

In the morning, Steve stays for breakfast. And attempts to kill Eddie by making his heart explode, cooking it himself from scratch with Tarja’s help, who is so happy she won’t stop running around the kitchen making Toothless fly and sing about ‘happy family breakfast time’.

It’s actually hard to tell if she’s happier to have her plushie back or that Steve is there. Eddie, on the other hand, knows exactly what he’s happiest about. Death by tenderness. Is that a thing? He amuses himself thinking about a couple csi’s with sunglasses saying it, 

“He died because he witnessed something too cute,”

“Ah yes, death by fondness. I’ve seen it before.”

After, Eddie walks him to the door and Steve smiles sweetly at him, and holds his hand, squeezing it once before letting go, “Well, see you. I guess,” he says bashfully and there’s a moment there, a second where time stops and Eddie thinks he should kiss him. Wants to kiss him, needs to kiss him.

But he doesn’t. Because Steve is still dating Tommy, and just because he said he was going to break up with him doesn’t mean he wants to start something new with Eddie.

Eddie himself called him his friend for the first time last night for christ sake. ‘Fucking chill’ he thinks to himself.

🧸

And then a week goes by without hearing a word from Steve. But Eddie doesn't hold it against him.

At first, he figures he needs time to think but then he starts to wonder if he really is going to break up with Tommy. Four days in, he gets paranoid about it. Maybe Steve got brainwashed into thinking Eddie is bad for him. Maybe Tommy told him Eddie was putting ideas in his head, that he shouldn’t talk to him anymore… With him telling Steve to break up with his boyfriend and all... 

He’s well aware of how manipulative Tommy can be and has seen the way he belittles Steve to keep him around, so he knows it’ll be hard for Steve to actually go through with it.

And he can’t exactly show up at Tommy’s and steal Steve away, no matter how appealing the idea might be. The only thing he can do is just think of Steve, wish him well, and send him strength to do what he needs to do. At the end of the day, it needs to be his decision. His choice.

As Tommy’s week with Tarja approaches he starts getting more and more anxious, wondering if it’ll be Steve or Tommy who picks her up.

When the day finally arrives, and the doorbell rings, Tarja runs to open the door and Eddie peeks his head through the hallway.

“Daddy!” Tarja screams.

“Hey, Tata! You ready?” Tommy says and Eddie steps into the hall to greet him too.

“Not yet!” Tarja chuckles and Tommy smiles at her,

“Okay, go get ready. I’ll wait here,”

Eddie walks to the door and leans on the doorframe, “Hey,”

“Hi. Long time no see,” Tommy says and then adds, “You look great,”

“You don’t,” Eddie answers, because it’s true. He looks like shit. Greasy hair, bags under his eyes, chapped lips, wrinkles on his clothes, “What happened?”

“Steve broke up with me.” 

Eddie’s eyes go wide and he smiles, he doesn’t even try to hide it, “He did?”

“Don’t smile, fucker,” Tommy says but there’s no heat behind it. He knows he deserves it.

“Sorry,” Eddie says, not sorry at all.

“Stop,” Tommy whines because Eddie’s smile is actually getting bigger,

“Sorry,” he repeats and then clears his throat, “Did he tell you why?”

“Because I’m a horrible person,” Tommy groans.

“Hey, the first step is to ad-”

“To admit it, yeah, yeah. I know” Tommy interrupts him, groaning again.

Eddie sighs, and punches Tommy’s shoulder lightly, “Look, Tommy, I’m just going to say this because, well… you are pathetic. You need to do better.” And then he points to his back, to where Tarja’s disappeared to get her stuff, “She’s going to grow up and realize you are an awful person and she’s not going to want you in her life. And I’m not going to dissuade her from it, because I already don’t want you to be in mine, you know that, right?”

Tommy looks at him seriously and then nods once, fast and hard. Like he gets it. Like he agrees and is determined to change. And Eddie hopes for Tarja’s sake he is. But knows, deep in his heart, that either way, she’s going to be fine.

“Also, just a heads up. I’m in love with Steve and I’m going to ask him out,” he adds in a rush when he hears Tarja running up behind him.

“You are shitting me,” Tommy whispers, shocked and clenching his teeth.

Eddie laughs, “Nope,” he says, closing his lips loudly around the P.

“Eddie,” Tommy warns him like he’s waiting for Eddie to say he's joking.

“What? I hear he’s single,” Eddie smirks.

“You motherfuc- Hey Tata!” Gathering Tarja in his arms, Tommy drops the subject but he glares at Eddie as he kisses Tarja’s cheek goodbye and murmurs ‘unbelievable’ as he’s leaving. Eddie closes the door and starts laughing at the look on Tommy’s face.

He needs to call Steve.

He tries a couple of times but he doesn’t pick up and he starts worrying Steve might not actually want to talk to him, and then there’s a knock on the door but Eddie, too preoccupied with his anxiety, opens without looking, thinking Tarja forgot something.

When he doesn't hear her, Eddie looks up from his ‘ignored calls’ screen to see nonother than Steve standing there, looking nervous and like a fucking dream with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. A fucking bouquet of flowers. For him. For Eddie. All different shades of red, because he knows is his favorite color.

Eddie just blinks at him a couple of times and Steve flushes even more and drops the hand holding up the flowers, scratches the back of his neck nervously, “This was stupid, the flowers were fucking stupid. They are stupid. I’m stupid, right?”

A laugh bubbles out of Eddie and he grabs him by the scruff of his shirt and pulls him inside. He closes the door once they are both in and slams Steve against it, crushing their lips together. Steve circles his arms around Eddie and holds him close, instantly returning the kiss with fervor. 

They kiss as if it were fate. They kiss until it's hard to breathe and Eddie pulls away only to kiss him again, and again, and again.

“Not stupid,” he murmurs between kisses and feels Steve’s smile against his lips.

Eventually, Eddie takes a step back and lets Steve into his home properly, “Hi,” he says cheesily.

“Hi,” Steve says back grinning, then he lifts up the bouquet again, which is now completely ruined by him still holding it strongly while they made out like crazy, and his smile drops,

“Shit,” he pouts cutely, god Eddie wants to eat him. He laughs and takes the flowers anyway, putting them in an empty glass bottle, because he doesn’t own a flower vase, because he’s a normal human being. ‘Who the fuck owns a flower vase?’

“Come here,” he says, holding out both hands for Steve to take and follow him.

Steve takes his hands but doesn't move, instead swings them from side to side, “Wait, let's talk,”

Fuck, yeah. They should. That’s a good idea. Fuck. Damn, Steven Whatever-The-Fuck-Is-His-Middle-Name Harrington and his sensible and very logical choice…

Eddie huffs exaggeratedly making Steve chuckle and redirects them to the couch, where they sit still holding hands, “Alas,” he says dramatically, “You are right, we should talk. I actually wanted to ask you out properly, not debauch you the second you walked through the door. Sorry about that” he lies, not sorry at all, again.

Steve blushes and smiles, drawing little circles with his thumbs on Eddie’s hands, “Yeah me too. I wanna do this right. Ask you out. Go on dates. I think we should take this slow,”

Eddie makes a face and groans at that. He doesn't want to take it slow. He wants Steve to move in right now or something. Steve rolls his eyes amused at his interruption and keeps going,

“I came here to ask you out the right way because I want you to know I’m committed. But we should think about how this will affect Tarja… and Tommy too. We should go out a few times, spend some time alone, and I want you to meet my friends and my parents and I want to meet your friends and your uncle too and just do this properly and-”

Eddie interrupts him with a kiss, he can’t take it anymore, he’s been dying to kiss Steve for months now and he’s so sweet and thoughtful it makes Eddie insane, makes him feel like he needs to ruin him, but in a nice way, like with devotion and love.

Steve lets go of his hands to wrap his arms around Eddie’s waist and hoists him until he’s straddling Steve. Eddie leans his elbows on Steve’s shoulders, and buries his hands in his hair, pulling and messing with it.

“Okay but have you considered having hard, hot, wet sex, and then maybe we do what you said?” He asks panting against Steve’s lips and actually feeling how that punches the air out of him.

He hugs Eddie closer to his chest and whines, “Yeah okay, we can do it your way,” and gets up, lifting Eddie with him as if he were weightless. Eddie squawks and laughs all the way to his room.

🧸

They spend the week together, talking, eating, drinking, laughing and fucking. Except it’s more than that because when Eddie is inside Steve, with his tongue, his fingers, or his strap, it feels like more. It feels like love. Like fate.

Steve, still determined to take things slow, doesn’t stay there all the time, going back to Robin’s where he moved back to after breaking up with Tommy. He actually brings her over one day and the three of them spend the afternoon together. Eddie decides they are going to be best friends immediately because Robin is hilarious and merciless. When Steve gets back the next day he kisses Eddie so good and hard his knees almost give out on him and tells him he has Robin’s seal of approval. Something he knows Tommy never got.

When the week passes Eddie says goodbye theatrically as if they were cross-star lovers in a bad soap opera and Steve chuckles and calls him ridiculous but kisses him so passionately that Eddie drags him right back inside and they say goodbye again a few hours later.

They had decided to wait until Eddie talked to Tarja about her feelings over Tommy’s and Steve’s breakup and whether she still wanted Steve around or not before having him over again.

But when Tarja gets back home she’s gloomy and silent. She hugs Eddie in greeting when she arrives and then spends the rest of the day lying face down on the floor and occasionally sighing loudly, obviously trying to make Eddie ask her what’s wrong.

And really, Eddie shouldn't find it as funny as he does, but he thinks about calling Wayne and telling him he gets it now when Wayne used to tell him he had too much personality.

Eventually, he lies on the floor next to her and asks. Tarja looks at him with big sad eyes and says, “I haven't seen Steve in a million years! And Daddy said he is not his boyfriend anymore! So I’ll never see him again and I miss him”

Eddie coos at her, “I’m sorry you miss him little dragon, but you can totally see him again! Would you like me to call him? Since he’s my friend too?” Already trying to strategize on how to tell her they are more than friends.

Tarja lights up and jumps off the floor and onto Eddie, punching the breath out of him, “Yes! Yes! Call Steve! Steve smiles more when he’s with you than he did with daddy anyway. Why don’t you boyfriend him instead?”

Well… that was easy.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “That’s a great idea sweety, go grab my phone,”

Tarja runs and grabs Eddie’s phone off the table and hands it to him, he doesn’t bother getting off the floor so she kneels beside him listening attentively as he dials Steve’s number. 

“Hi, handsome, you talked with Tarja already?” Steve greets him after it rings twice.

“Yeah about that, turns out Tarja talked to me, actually,” he chuckles, “Hi, by the way”

“Hi,” Steve repeats lovingly and laughs, “What do you mean?”

“She had this awesome idea!” he says winking at her and she covers her mouth with her tiny hands to hide her giggles, “That, since you are not with Tommy anymore, you should be my boyfriend instead,” he continues, voice going soft and chuckles when he hears Steve's breathless ‘oh’ on the other side of the line, “Come over?”

“Of course, gimme an hour? I'm with a client” Steve hums and Eddie whispers he’ll give him anything he asks for and hangs up.

An hour later Tarja is still lying on the floor, only now it’s with papers and crayons spread all around her when the doorbell rings. She looks up at Eddie excitedly and he nods at her, “Go on then”

Tarja runs to the door and opens it wide to reveal Steve standing there as beautiful as ever, giving Eddie a deja vu of the first time he saw him.

“Papa Steve!” Tarja yells and jumps up to hug him.

Steve gasps and falls to his knees with her in his arms and looks up at Eddie with shocked wet eyes.

‘So much for taking it slow,’ Eddie thinks with a smirk.

Fin.

☝️first part

☕🥐💕?

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #trans eddie munson #kid fic #i wrote something #i keep thinking about #you know how kid memories are weird and warped in your minds #i keep thinking about tarja being very much convinced that she is the one who got them to date just cause she suggested it to eddie #when she's older i mean #like they cannon convince her other wise she soooooo sure cause she perfectly remembers telling eddie to 'boyfriend' steve and that they #were not together before that #steve and robin think its hilarious #eddie hates giving her the credit #dunno if tommy gets a redemption ark but i imagine tarja and him have coffee from time to time and they catch up on their lives. #and tarja rolls her eyes a lot at him but he's not as bad as he used to be #its mostly like 'yeah yeah dad im sure tthings were different in your time sure'

[astarion-obsessions]

Hold on, there is something I thought about. When Astarion approached Tav with "all his favourite lines" of flattery, leading to fake confessing his love to them, I was genuinely hurt to see that he would play with Tav's feelings like that, just for the sake of entertainment.

But now that their relationship progressed and Astarion actually confessed that he developed feelings for Tav, but still claims to not know how he would define their relationship, I get the feeling that he made the choice to fake confess beforehand for another reason than entertainment or seduction altogether. Hear me out.

Why does Astarion fake confess his love to Tav?

When I get a scene with Astarion, I always reload a thousand times to try out all the routes and see all his reactions, so what I'm about to break down will be no less than heartbreaking.

First let's take a look at what Astarion has to say. He starts the conversation with a clear goal in mind: he wants to seduce us again and he says so right away. He continues with very openly displaying his skills at charming people with honeyed words, seemingly enjoying himself while doing so. But what we have to keep in mind is that he's done that thousands and thousands of times already. I think it's safe to assume that he's perfected this mask of a smug, flirtatious man enjoying all this debauchery. 

But after giving us one suggestive line after another, he does something that does not match the tone of the conversation so far: his fake love confession. I mean, just look at him. 

He goes from completely exaggerated facial expressions and gestures: 

When I'm with you, I feel practically alive, yet I crave only to die again with you.

To this:

I love you

We get a closeup of his face and see that he gets serious all of a sudden despite the fact that the conversation has been all fun and flirty just a moment ago. He draws his brows together, tells Tav "I love you" and then just looks at us with this serious and almost sad expression. Completely different from before when he was just toying around. 

And yes, I just said he's very practiced in playing pretend, but just the difference between shallow and cheesy lines about craving to die together and their perfect body whispering temptation in contrast to a simple "I love you" and then on top of that the difference on how he conveys it - for me it just doesn't fit together, this isn’t Astarion pretending. And furthermore he gains nothing from adding this confession. The flirty lines would have been enough to seduce Tav once again and therefore ensure their attachment to him, so that his protection is granted. And that is all he wants, at least in the beginning. 

But then, why would he voice this fake confession in the first place? And that's where my theory sets in. I don't think he would risk the trouble of getting more feelings involved than necessary in his "nice simple plan" - seducing Tav, sleeping with them, manipulating their feelings. For doing so, he simply wouldn't need a love confession. 

With saying "How about I say those little words. Everyone's favourite" he already suggests that he's said them to a lot of people already. And this surely is a way to charm and seduce people very fast, but with Tav he doesn't need to rush. They're tied together for an indefinite amount of time, he doesn't need to seduce them in a matter of hours or days before serving them to his master. And he's already seduced Tav successfully before, so my guess is this:

My explanation for the fake confession

The real confession scene, where he admits to having started to genuinely feel something for Tav, came a bit out of nowhere for me. (And don't get me started with our options to react to his real confession. I talked about that here.) I don’t think he would just willingly tell Tav that he's grown fond of them, when a few nights before he threw the fake confession their way without giving a damn about Tav's feelings - that just felt very out of character for him in my opinion. 

But what if he started to fall in love with Tav even before the fake confession? Think about it, he has slept with Tav once - successfully seduced - so all he has to do is sustain this kind of relationship. Saying all his favourite lines at Tav and trying to get them to sleep with each other for a second time would have been just that - sustaining the relationship at present. But then he says "I love you". And I say he does so purposefully. It's a test. Having someone like you enough to sleep with you is one thing. Having deep and complex feelings like love involved is something else entirely. So he tests the waters with this confession. He hides behind all of these flirtatious lines and places the confession at their end to throw a veil over its real meaning. 

It may be a lie either way - saying it just for entertainment or saying it to see if Tav is open for deeper feelings - but I think he exaggerates on purpose to trigger a reaction that speaks for itself. Does Tav care about these words? Is Tav hurt to see that Astarion is apparently willing to play with their feelings like this? Or do they not care about such vanities? 

I want to emphasise the fact that Astarion hasn't had the luxury to allow himself anything resembling these kinds of feelings for at least two centuries. Naturally, he would not just come around and open up his heart to Tav when all he's done until then was charming them just for his plan. He would want to reassure himself that this wouldn't turn against him if he dares to show such great vulnerability in front of anyone. He says it himself when he properly confesses that it is intimidating for him to make decisions on his own again. And confessing his feelings is exactly one of those intimidating decisions.  

Interpreting Astarion's reaction

To back up my take I want to take a closer look at Astarion's reaction when we reject him after the fake confession. After he laughs the confession off in one way or the other, he insists on having sex with you again. Here he sticks to exaggerated facial expressions and gestures, just like before with his honeyed words.

Now, as much as I relish standing around and saying all my favourite lines at you, I’d much rather we got to experience each others’ full portfolio of talents once again.

But if Tav then turns him down with saying “I don’t think I really want this”, this is his immediate reaction:

Well, well, excuse me while I die of a broken heart.

He takes a few seconds to process what Tav said, and then instantly responds with another exaggeration accompanied by fitting gesticulation, ending with a fake smile. After that he just looks at Tav for another few seconds and his demeanor changes again:

In all honesty, it's a shame. That time was special to me. I've gotten on my back ten thousand times or more, and forgotten half of them. 

He loses his fake smile, averts his gaze and starts fumbling with his hands nervously. He can't hide his disappointment, but he tries to keep his face neutral - even if it doesn't work all too well. He tells us we were special before giving us a scrunched fake smile once again. It's really hard to watch…

But you… you I'll remember. 

For usually being rather quick to react and respond, we can see how difficult it is for him to react to Tav in this case.

Have a fine evening, dear. 

He pauses yet again, lifts his gaze to the sky and just looks so lost. Mere moments ago he was flirting and laughing, and now he seems so utterly desperate. And then, he can't even keep up his attempts of masking his sadness when his expression slips in the end and his face scrunches painfully for just a second before the whole scene ends. This really broke my heart.

Conclusion

This is definitely not the reaction of someone who was turned down for just another round of sex - even if this meant that Astarion's plan of assuring his safety didn't work out. Because then he could have just tried to get Tav to change their mind with another one of his favourite lines. Or he would have at least reacted like he does when you tell him to stay at the camp ("Oh darling, I'm hurt" which he obviously isn't). But he doesn't. 

Because this is the reaction of someone who dared to get his hopes up. Someone who thought that maybe, just maybe, these unwanted, complicated feelings for Tav which had slowly crept up, nullifying his nice simple plan, could genuinely lead to a relationship he didn't know he needed so desperately. Someone who is so devastated by a rejection at this point, that he doesn't even question it. He just accepts that Tav isn't interested in sleeping with him, let alone having feelings beyond sexual desire. It's just as it always has been. It's not as if Astarion remembers anyone caring about him, so why should it be different this time… 

And that's why I think this whole fake love confession was a way for Astarion to veil his growing feelings for Tav under the pretence of flirting, and had the purpose to find out if he could more or less safely confess his true feelings to Tav. 

Gods, this is so heartbreaking. I need to pat Astarion's fluffy head in my dreams as a redemption. 

#astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion romance #astarion romance spoilers #astarion meta #bg3 meta #bg3 spoilers #astarion x tav #astarion analysis

[demonpiratehuntress]

I am actually so mad. I was working on this and for some reason it didn't save correctly and ended up posting a blank draft while deleting the stuff I had already written! I'm so sorry it took so long, @tiaramarijadhkxdyi755, but here it is! i hope this is close to what you wanted, because i wasn't sure how to go about it 🙈

taglist - @kabloswrld

patience with the Straw Hats

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader

summary - the ask above

warnings - mean/careless/neglectful Straw Hats, im sorry, i changed Luffy's and Usopp's because I don't imagine them ever screaming at or getting angry with their s/o 💕

ZORO

Zoro has a short fuse, and that's common knowledge. Everyone knows just how grumpy and aggressive he can be after a hard fight or a difficult day training. He's snapped at everyone more than once, but you seem to take the brunt of it since you're the closest to him, and today was no different.

"For fucks sake just leave me alone!" Zoro could be heard yelling at you all throughout the Sunny. "You're too damn clingy and I don't need your help right now!" He stormed off.

You stood there in shock, having just asked him if he was okay, and taken aback by the response you had gotten. It wasn't unusual for him to be angry, but he was really upset today for some reason. You decided to give him space, but you had to admit you weren't really hurt or upset. More so disappointed that he had once again pushed you away.

"Zoro-"

"What?!" He snapped, glaring at you as you came up into the crow's nest with some food. "I'm not hungry, just leave."

"But-" You started, until he did something unexpected.

He smacked the food out of your hands, sending it all over your face. Your eyes widened and you stumbled back a bit, stunned.

"Okay, I'm sorry," you apologised, giving him a soft smile, "I'll have food in the room once you're ready to eat."

You waited a long time until Zoro finally entered your shared room, looking embarrassed and guilty about his outbursts today. He didn't say anything as he crossed the room and sat down beside you, but when he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips you knew he was apologising.

"It's okay," you smiled gently, "I'm not upset. Just disappointed that you won't let me help you."

"I know I know," he admitted. "I'll work on it, I promise."

"What made you so angry anyway?" You squeezed his hand.

He sighed, "You almost got hurt in our last fight because I was distracted. It's been haunting me, and I just don't want it to happen again. I snapped because I wanted to train harder instead of resting or eating, so I can properly protect you."

You smiled at him again, "But you always do, that was not your fault babe."

He was so grateful to have such a patient, understanding and loving girlfriend.

SANJI

Sanji usually never snapped at or yelled at you. He didn't ever want to, and never had any reason to. He was sweet, loving and doting just like you were, but unlike you he did have his days where he went against his promise to never lash out at you or hurt you in any way. Today was one of those days. Usopp had pulled him away from some girls who were fawning over him, and he was irritated.

"Why did you do that?" He glared at the sniper. "I was having fun."

"You also have a girlfriend," Usopp reminded him, gesturing towards you. He was nervous now, because Sanji looked pissed off.

"So?" The cook scowled. "I can appreciate and talk to other women without cheating on her!" He spoke like you weren't right next to him. "Right, (Name)?"

"Right," you smiled, a bit disappointed but not showing it.

Then he was off, returning to those women to apologise and your crew turned to you, looking at you quizzically. Nami set her hand on your arm reassuringly.

"It's okay," you told them with a smile, "It doesn't bother me."

Sanji then returned, but was quick to notice the disappointed look you had on your face. He was about to ask but you shook your head and kissed his cheek, continuing your exploration of the island.

"Okay what's your problem?" He suddenly asked, annoyed, when you looked disappointed at another interaction between him and a pretty woman.

Your eyes widened, "I'm not-"

He rolled his eyes, "I'm not stupid, (Name). You're obviously hiding the fact that you want to control my every move and stop me from ever talking to other women again."

That claim was so preposterous, you frowned, "I wouldn't-"

He quickly realised what he had said and his eyes widened, "No no no, my love I didn't mean that! I don't know why I said, I-I-" He fumbled for an excuse but sighed when he didn't have any. "I'm sorry, my love. Let me make it up to you, with your favourite dinner."

"Deal."

LUFFY

In all honesty, I don't see Luffy getting angry with or yelling at you. I think he's more of the neglectful type, when faced with certain situations like facing Boa Hancock out on the sea. She claimed she didn't know you guys would be there, but you're pretty sure she was stalking his movements. Luffy wouldn't listen though.

"It's okay, (Name)!" He replied cheerily when you voiced your concerns, "Hammock's really nice! And she has yummy food!"

And then he was off, leaving you to shake your head and sigh. You retired to your shared room, hoping that Luffy would eventually realise her intentions and come back.

He never did, and after a few hours you were starting to get lonely. So you ventured out to find him, only to see him giving her a tour of the Sunny.

"Luffy!" You called, but frowned when he seemingly ignored you as Hancock said something to him.

That was pretty much how the day went. You were ignored entirely by your boyfriend, simply because Hancock wouldn't let him pay attention to you. But you were disappointed in him too, for not telling her that you were dating and for not coming to spend time with you on his own.

When the day ended and Hancock retreated to her ship, bidding Luffy goodbye, the captain finally made his way to you. You weren't upset or sad, but Luffy could see on your face that you weren't feeling anything good.

"Are you alright, (Name)?" He questioned, hugging you.

"I'm disappointed, Luffy," you told him, but hugged him back and smiled anyway, happy to have him back.

"Disappointed?" He frowned. "Why?"

You sighed, "You didn't make any effort to come and see me for even a few minutes today. You spent the whole day with her. I'm not upset, because she helped you a lot, but I am disappointed that you ignored me."

He hugged you even tighter, "I'm sorry, (Name), really. We can spend the whole day together tomorrow!"

You smiled and nodded, not having the heart to tell him that's what you guys did everyday when Boa wasn't around.

USOPP

Usopp is another Straw Hat that I don't see getting angry or yelling easily. He's very patient with you, and he's understanding. He also doesn't have any aggravating circumstances, but the one thing he can be that disappoints you sometimes is careless. He can be very careless when it comes to what he says or does, because he usually acts on emotion.

And today, it seemed, he was missing his old crush Kaya. Because while you were shopping for clothes on one store, seeking to replace your torn and burnt ones, he kept yapping on about how Kaya had this and Kaya had that, and that hers were all real and genuine.

"I'm sorry I'm not Kaya, or as rich as her," you politely reminded him, not upset but starting to feel uncomfortable.

"It's okay!" He smiled, ignoring the subtle hint for him to stop talking about her. "I love you anyway!"

"Love you too," you smiled, but in your disappointment it didn't quite reach your eyes like it usually did. Still, you persevered, hoping he would stop by the next shop.

He did not.

"Kaya had something like this," he looked at the dress you were holding up, "But much prettier."

You frowned, again disappointed that he didn't like it. And that he had once again compared it to someone in his past that should be staying in said past.

Usopp noticed your expression, and his smile faltered, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you smiled, shaking your head, "It's just not my style."

His eyes widened, "Woah, (Name), I didn't mean-"

"It's okay, Usopp," you kissed his cheek, "Let's go, I think we're done."

"No we're not," he took the dress, "This will look so much nicer on you than Kaya."

You opened your mouth to say something, but giggled when he refused to let you and bought it for you, dragging you back to the Sunny so you could show him just how much prettier you were than Kaya.

#one piece #op #zoro x reader #zoro x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x you #usopp x you #usopp x reader #usopp #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x you

[canyourfavesurvivecastledracula]

aziraphale from good omens :)

Bahahahaha! Oh my.

Okay, for the sake of sportsmanship, let's be as fair as we can and give Dracula every fighting chance.

The first big question is holiness - Aziraphale is undoubtedly very very holy. But he's an angel of God, not literally God, and that makes a difference. If we take the demons of Good Omens as a test case, we can see that they share some traditional weaknesses with vampires, the most prominent one being Holy Water - (although NB Dracula never interacts with Holy Water in novel, just as none of the demons in Good Omens, book or series, never interact with the Host). It seems reasonable to presume that Crowley for instance would have a bad time with a crucifix. So we can perhaps say that the two are repulsed by the divine in much the same way. But. No one would ever suggest that Crowley cannot physically touch Aziraphale. Right? Apart from it being demonstrably untrue, whole pillars of fandom would collapse. It's a non-starter. So Aziraphale is not prima facie the kind of divine that is repulsive to the demoniac... except perhaps aesthetically.

The next thing to get out of way is that Aziraphale is not strictly speaking the kind of thing that can die. But he can be discorporated, and the waiting list on bodies is such a bother, so I am going to say that if his physical body gets destroyed by any means that counts as not surviving Castle Dracula, though I love the idea of him possessing people later in the novel (I'm thinking either Renfield or Van Helsing, because Renfield is basically a medium already and like real weird about angels, and Van Helsing has that one scene where Jonathan is like .... so I'm like 90% sure he was possessed and speaking with literal divine authority just then. Weird.) The question then becomes what it takes it discorporate an angel and whether Dracula in fact possesses those means. The one thing that actually accomplishes it in universe is that summoning circle, which is a pretty extreme example. BUT if we include actual biblical canon in our angelology, then, while while that doesn't bring us any closer to what, if anything, can kill an angel, we do at least have examples of angels being beaten in fistfights. So, for the purposes of this exercise, Aziraphale can in principle be killed, and he can also in principle be beaten in a fistfight.

It might make some difference if we are talking about the Book or the Series. Book!Aziraphale is a little bit more of a bastard, a little less naive, a little less distractactable, and (as is Crowley) a whole lot more terrifyingly competent than his televised counterpart.

...okay enough of this. Aziraphale outclasses Dracula so hard it's not even funny. Angels and Demons are set up to be evenly matched because they are fundamentally the same type of thing and that's the whole point - but Dracula isn't that type of Demon. He's a human person who's mildly demoniac because he majored in it in college. It's very impressive to other humans, sure, but like, the ravings of his solicitor aside, he's really not on the level of actual Demons of the Pit. And the things that humans are better at - creativity, growth, love - he's traded for vampirism. He's got the disadvantages of both without really the advantages of either.

Aziraphale's fatal flaw, if you want to call it that, is that he really likes humans. He would be delighted by Dracula's cooking and by his library. He would never stand for the baby eating. He would he more insufferable about the paprika than our baby lawyer. But he's also had 6000 years of learning to be unassuming and letting people underestimate him, and perfecting the Reverse Customer Service voice. He would do that Disapproving Bookseller thing and make Dracula uncomfortable in his own home. He's not the kind of thing that can be hypnotized. He's not going to waste time looking for the key, the doors will just open for him when he tells them to. And if all else fails he has wings, he can literally just leave whenever.

So um, yes. Aziraphale can survive Castle Dracula. And he will probably mess with Dracula non-trivially while he's there.

#aziraphale #good omens #divine entities

[nanamiluvs]

can you do nsfw alphabet for gallagher? :3

just yes omg gallagher is so ngh... like someone commented on my last gallagher post, i want him and wriothesley to tag team me idc

gallagher nsfw alphabet !

pairing : gallagher x reader

rating : explicit

wc : 2.4k

warnings : smut content, reader is afab but no pronouns used, not beta read, reader is called "miss" and "baby" and "good girl", reader is smaller than gallagher in size, size kink, cum play, slight pet play, come eating, gallagher likes to torture himself, manhandling, praise kink, choking, spanking, gallagher eats pussy like a champ, face-fucking, very slight hair pulling, begging, mentions of creampies, overstimulation, teasing, so much teasing

a : aftercare

gallagher is not the biggest practitioner of aftercare, he'd much rather you two just lay down in a mess and leave the cleaning to later. but he's an acts of service type of man. if you want to be cleaned, he will clean you. if you want to be held, he's cuddling you already. gallagher can do whatever you want to do the point it comes off as weird, but really, he's fine with whatever you like. he wants whatever you want. this man can eat his own cum out of you with pleasure for fuck sake.

b : body part

gallagher loves how big he is. he knows his frame is large, wide shoulders and a build adorned with hard muscles. he acts like he's not aware of it, but he loves how you fit in his bulky arms. for you, gallagher loves anywhere he can grab or run his hands through: your waist, your tummy, your thighs, hips, throat- anywhere, really. to be honest, it doesn't matter but on a surface level, gallagher seems to be the type to prefer a heavier body.

c : cum

gallagher is messy and i mean it. he likes to see a mess on you or himself, he doesn't care, just make a mess. he loves to see his cum dirty your body, sprayed across your tits and stomach or seeping out of your cunt. his cum has an off-white color, thicker in density and he cums a lot. you don't know how it's possible, but the man just doesn't stop cumming. he loves to smear his cum too, even more when you scold him for it, laughing like a little boy.

d : dirty secret

gallagher is not shy, but the idea of wanting you to put a collar on him and treat him like a dog, is a little embarrassing. if you ask him to, he'd say something like 'eh, whatever you want, miss' and oblige. it's definitely not as if he's so fucking hard he's turned on by it, he just wants to go along with your requests.

e : experience

gallagher is probably quite experienced. his job is quite stressful, so why not let off some steam with some hook ups here and there? he's not one to judge you whether you're experienced or not, he simply thinks of his experience as an advantage to pleasure you. he knows what he's doing and he knows it so well.

f : favorite position

gallagher has no set favorite position since this man finds joy in throwing you around. sex with gallagher never finishes in the same position as it started, he will find a way to manhandle you to his whims. probably likes g-whiz, table top and upstanding citizen a lot. get used to him moving your body and handling you into another position he wants because he loves doing it.

g : goofy

gallagher is, most of the time, very laid-back during sex. there are times he's more serious, but usually it's him cracking a few jokes here and there. he doesn't see sex as a necessarily romantic thing- gallagher is someone who prefers to fuck rather than to make love. he's extremely cocky too, so much that you'd want to punch his grinning face in with your fist, but well, that's gallagher for you.

h : hair

gallagher definitely has a happy trail and i don't care what anyone else says. he's probably hairy down there, he doesn't let it get too wild since that bothers him but don't expect to see a completely bald surface. he likes it if you're more on the hairy side as well. for gallagher, the messier, the better when it comes to sex.

i : intimacy

gallagher, like i said, doesn't view sex as strictly romantic. he's often teasing you, dirty words spilling through his lips as he fucks you into utter bliss. this man fucks like he has no respect for you. the other times he's on the intimate side, gallagher can't help but smile fondly as his hips roll into yours, arms wrapped around your body with his low voice whispering in your ear. it's so unfair, how he can pull off both with ease.

j : jack off

gallagher probably jacks off once or maybe twice a week at max. i imagine him doing it after work, before he gets to sleep. he mainly does it to destress. i also imagine him wanting to see you masturbate, rough and calloused hands palming his clothed groin as he watches you pleasure yourself. he will not touch you unless you're done, cunt all wet and messy for his thick cock to fill up. and fill up, he will.

k : kink

gallagher is honestly the kinky type.

‎ ‎ ‎ begging : gallagher wants to see you beg. beg to cum, beg for him to finish inside you, beg for him to fuck you, beg and beg and beg. he finds it so arousing, the way you can go so vulnerable for a man like him. he's a meanie, too, making you beg for anything.

‎ ‎ ‎ choking : gallagher would hate to hurt you, but sometimes he can't help but wrap his hand around your throat as he fucks you. he's never too harsh, he knows how strong he is, his touch is more like a reminder of his presence. his thumb plays with your lip before he leans in and kisses you. he also absolutely loves getting choked by you, your smaller hands wrapped around his neck as you ride him, a teasing grin on his face as he struggles to breathe. he says you don't need to worry about going overboard as he can simply stop it if you do so. trust me, he doesn't want to.

‎ ‎ ‎ overstimulation : gallagher hits me as the type to be able to do it for hours on end, obsessed with making you cum over and over again before burying himself inside. he loves fucking you silly, your whining and moaning sound like music in his ears. loves overstimulating himself too.

‎ ‎ ‎ praise kink : gallagher has a praise kink. it's frustrating at this point, the way he can get you to do anything with that stupid smirk on his face and whispers of his, praising you for everything you do. so much that you want to choke him, yet he's just so sickeningly sweet with his words. anything you do well, he will praise you for it. he turns it into a game of whether you'll get his approval or not, going as far as making you beg and crawl for it, and then praise you for how well you've been. 'y'can do it for me, can't ya? good girl.' he can get you to do almost everything he wants with the providance of praises. likes to be on the receiving side on the times he's on the submissive side, often begging for praises during it. 'ah, i've been a good boy, right, baby? right? come and sit on it, please.'

‎ ‎ ‎ size kink : gallagher wants to tower over you. he wants to hold both of your wrists with one hand. he wants to see how small your hands look compared to his larger ones, he wants to see those big fingers of his slowly disappear inside your pussy, filling you like a dick would. yet it's not even close enough to the feeling of his cock, so big and heavy and just too much. he smiles and pushes further inside, relishing in how much you struggle to take him. how many times has it been? are you still not used to his length? he teases as his frame wraps around yours with your back pressed against his chest, enveloping you with all the warmth radiating from the man. he loves how he's just so big compared to you.

l : location

gallagher cares little about things such as locations. if there's a surface, he can fuck you. he has no shame, he can and will do it everywhere you want him to. obviously won't force you if that's not your thing, happy to oblige in the privacy of your own home. the location really doesn't matter to him, because at the end of the day, it's your walls wrapping around his cock so deliciously.

m : motivation

gallagher has a high sex drive, so i think he doesn't need much additional motivation. but your reactions would be the biggest motivating point for him to continue, in love with the way you whine when he rubs your clit or the way you squirm under his hands as he caresses your body. he will go to heaven and back just to hear you moan in ecstasy. would get hard again at the sight of his cum seeping out your folds.

n : no

gallagher most likely wouldn't have a strictly negative opinion on anything. he's a firm believer that everything can be tested but he's not a fan of the idea of physically hurting you with knives or other sharp weapons.

o : oral

gallagher eats pussy like a craved man. it's either him holding you down by your thighs as you sit on him or your plush thighs threatening to crush his skull when he goes down on you. you may think he does it to pleasure you, in reality, you couldn't be more wrong. he eats you out because that's what pleasures him, the taste of your juices along with the melodies your moans sound like in his ears. he grows so hard it's unbearable, yet no, he won't stop to fuck you for real. his hips grind against the bed, dick aching with need in his pants, low moans spilling from his mouth as his tongue laps your slick. his stubble grazes your lips as his jaw moves, your hips desperately chasing the friction. he also loves pushing your head down on his length, watching you gag and choke around his thick cock as you struggle to take him in. he enjoys eating you out but also face-fucking you, although not as much as the former. his grip on your hair tightens as he gets closer to coming, your saliva and his precum mixing before he buries his cock in your mouth, cum spilling down your throat. he will definitely pull out if you don't like the stretch.

p : pace

gallagher has such a rough pace that it's intoxicating. his hips slam into yours so heavily, you can feel his whole body with the way he thrusts inside of you. he's not slow too, you wonder how he does it. each thrust fills your insides with vigor, groans coming from his mouth. his hips fasten as he comes close to finishing, and that takes quite the long time, the sensation overwhelming.

q : quickie

gallagher absolutely enjoys quickies and no one can convince me otherwise. he thinks they're just so useful for getting one out of his system with the load of his work. though most of the time, he prefers having his time with you.

r : risk

gallagher is probably open with taking risks when it comes to sex. anything you wanna try, he's alright with it- truly a gentleman.

s : stamina

gallagher can go on for multiple rounds on end. you don't know how he does it, he just cums and cums and cums until there's nothing left in his balls, yet it repeats all over the next day! his stamina is probably one of the highest of the star rail men.

t : toys

gallagher can use anything that makes the act more pleasurable for the both of you. it's usually him asking you to try out some new toy he got from who knows where.

u : unfair

gallagher is such a bully. he does nothing but to tease you and rile you up, he just can't shut up for one second! he makes fun of how you're so easily crumbled, how you must have no shame with the way you beg for his cock, how you turn into mush the moment you take his tip. he says all of those with a stupid smirk on his face that only widens when you scold him for it. he enjoys seeing you get teased and all shy so quickly. you want to bite him, punch his face as he keeps not shutting the hell up, his large palm coming down to slap your rear from behind as he laughs at you. 'what's that? oh? you think i'm too mean, miss? how cute, you know you love it.'

v : volume

gallagher is not the most vocal during sex but definitely not quiet. he's more of the groaner and grunter type instead of moaning. you can still make him moan, though, just ride him with your hands tight around his throat and listen to him singing.

w : wild card

gallagher likes how painful it is to have a boner. he leaves his pants on for the sole purpose of feeling his dick stretch against the fabric, begging for release. it hurts so much yet he loves the feeling, cockhead too sensitive and weeping by the time he frees it. he likes it when you sit on it, not putting it inside you but just sitting on it, forcing it to cower as you rub yourself along his length. likes it when you squeeze the shaft so tight that he can't help but curse. gallagher loves the pain if it's because of you.

x : x-ray

gallagher has the biggest or second biggest cock in all of star rail. he's just sooo large, longer and has so much more girth than average. it's a tan color fading into a furious red in the tip. it's so easy to get precum oozing out of it. definitely has thick veins sticking out here and there that you can feel inside of you. he knows how big he is yet he acts like he doesn't.

y : yearning

gallagher doesn't need to have sex that much but definitely wants to. it's okay if you don't want to, he can just rub one out if it's so urgent and nothing if it's not. likes to do it with you almost every day to every other night.

z : zzz

gallagher probably has problems sleeping, i mean, have you seen this man? so when it's night and you're in your home, it's when he falls sleep the most easily. he doesn't want to let you go, his big arms wrapped around your body as he pulls you into his chest, spooning you as if he was a little kid and you were his favorite toy to sleep with.

reqs are open !

i mainly write for jjk, hsr and genshin ✩

#gallagher x you #hsr gallagher x reader #gallagher x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail gallagher #honkai star rail #hsr gallagher #hsr x reader #hsr #gallagher smut #honkai star rail smut #gallagher hsr #gallagher hsr x reader