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#but he is aware of his feelings for years
harunayuuka2060 · 3 days
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Floyd: I want to play with Damselfish, but he's always busyyyy~.
Azul: That can't be helped. Yuurin is a model student and he has some responsibilities to fulfill.
Floyd: Eh~ But he's just a first-year, you know~.
Jade: Why not take on the role of a responsible upperclassman for him?
Azul: As if Floyd would do that-
Floyd: That's a good idea, Jade~.
Azul: Huh?
Jade: *chuckles*
Azul: ...
Azul: Floyd, please refrain from causing any trouble for us.
Yuurin: *is on her way to Professor Crewel's class*
Floyd: DAMSELFISH~~~!
Yuurin: ? *turns around* *and sees Floyd walking towards her*
Yuurin: Floyd-senpai?
Floyd: *when he's in front of her* *smiles* Where are you going~?
Yuurin: To Professor Crewel's class.
Floyd: Okay~. I'll take you there~.
Yuurin: No, it's fin-
Floyd: *scoops her up, cradling her effortlessly in his arms*
Yuurin: ...
Floyd: Eh~ You're surprisingly light, damselfish~.
Yuurin: ...
Professor Crewel and the rest of the students: ...
Professor Crewel: I see you both decided to come to class together.
Floyd: *is carrying Yuurin now like a teddy bear*
Yuurin: I appreciate the free lift, senpai.
The students: Wow... He can talk casually with Floyd...
Floyd: You're welcome~. Next time again~.
Yuurin: No. I'll be just walking by myself next time.
Floyd: Eh~? Why are you being mean to me~?
Yuurin: No, I'm not.
Professor Crewel: That's enough. Since both of you got here, why not be partners for the experiment today?
Floyd: Are you serious, striped beakfish~? *smiling*
Professor Crewel: Yes. I feel that you'll behave if you are with Yuurin.
Jamil and Ace: ...
Floyd: I'll be playing with Damselfish~!
Jamil: ...
Jamil: It's been a while since you visited the Basketball Club, Yuurin.
Jamil: Not even Ace could invite you after that.
Ace: H-Hey! He was always busy!
Yuurin: Yes. I couldn't find the time to visit. I'm sorry.
Jamil: That's alright. Everyone is aware that you're fond of the Equestrian Club more.
Yuurin: ...
Floyd: Ehhh~ What's in Equestrian Club~?
Yuurin: I have a horse there. His name is Aerion.
Floyd: Hmmm... You like animals?
Yuurin: Yes.
Floyd: ...
Floyd: Hehe~ Damselfish! Let's go to the ocean now!
Jamil: Huh?! Aren't you two here for the basketball practice?!
Ace: Y-Yeah!
Floyd: I've changed my mind~. Let's go, damselfish~! *dragging Yuurin away*
Floyd: *could tell that Yuurin enjoys playing with the lemon sharks*
Floyd: *swims next to her* They're friendly, aren't they?
Yuurin: *looks at him*
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *nods*
Floyd: Hm? Why are you just nodding- Oh, right! I didn't give you any potion to breathe underwater!
Yuurin: *just reads his lips* *gestures to him that it's fine*
Floyd: Oh... *smiles* How long can you stay underwater?
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *signs to him that she can stay underwater for 30 minutes*
Floyd: Eh~! THAT'S SO COOL~!
Azul: Floyd, you're NOT going to take Yuurin on another underwater trip again.
Floyd: Ehhh~? Why not~?
Azul: Leona yelled at me on the phone.
Floyd: And that's my problem~?
Azul: You-
Jade: How did it go, Floyd?
Floyd: Hehe~ I really enjoyed my time with him~.
Floyd: He promised that we will play again together with the lemon sharks~.
Jade: Oh that's good.
Azul: No, it's not!
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starry-bi-sky · 3 days
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I'm so annoyed. @kingcrow01 tumblr ate your ask about Danny's opinion on the League. tumblr i pressed 'save draft' why didn't you sAVE DRAFT.
ANyways I'm making a post instead. For everyone else, the ask was in summary:
What was Danny's opinion on the League now that he's left it? If he missed the familiarity of it, if he recognized the cult-like behavior inside it, and if he now detested his grandfather.
And to answer (again, grrr): It's complicated! We love complicated <3. Yeah, Danny does miss the familiarity of the League, it was still his home for the first ten years of his life and he has a lot of memories there. Plenty of good along with the bad, and while he's less homesick than he was when he was 10, it still hits him like a truck at random intervals.
Sam, Tucker, and Jazz are great, and he likes the Drs. Fentons enough that he's contemplated murdering Vlad for his meddling, but if he wants to eat the same food his mother used to make him and Damian, he has to do it himself and he can't get the taste right. No one knows arabic so he speaks it to himself because he doesn't want to forget his mother tongue, and he has a few books too. Frankly? He genuinely misses training.
Getting to use Sam's gym helps with his restlessness, same with training with Maddie, but he has no one on or above his level to go against other than his mother. And he only sees her twice a year at most. He knows that he's getting stagnant and he fucking despises it like a bad itch he can't scratch.
He feels conflicted about missing the League, however, since by now he recognizes the flaws and what was wrong with it, and he recognizes that it was cult-like. But even that is kinda, hrm, complicated? If this was a fic I would be able to go better into depth about what he has and hasn't unlearned because cult deprogramming is hard and Danny's doing most of this on his own.
Sam, Tucker, and Jazz have helped with the more obvious stuff: like the ecofascism, the disregard for human life, his emotional constipation; the more obvious stuff that shows in his behavior and personality. But none of them are professionals nor do they actually know the full extent of what Danny's life in the League was like. They only have snapshots since Danyal is very tight lipped about it. So they can only help with what they see themselves through Danny's behavior or word of mouth.
But in summary: He sees, for the most part, what's wrong with the League and disagrees with some of the stuff they do now. But he's very conflicted, and trying to dissect his feelings on the League confuses him. His protests about it whenever Sam and Tucker joke about it have at this point become mostly empty (altho it still causes him some discomfort), and its an inside joke between them three.
As for Ra's? Despises him. If only because Ra's wanted him to kill his little brother -- thinking about his motives with the League confuses Danny, cognitive dissonance and stuff, -- a lot of his hatred stems from "He wanted me to fight my baby brother to the death. I destroyed my relationship with Damian because of him, I had to fake my death and leave my home, and I will never meet my father or see my brother again because of him. Fuck that guy."
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nattblacklupin · 2 days
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Ice and shadows
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Pairing: hockey player! Azriel x fem! Reader
Warnings: cursing, lots of fluff
Summary: headcanons about hockey player! Azriel
Hockey player! Cassian ● masterlist
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Azriel is defence, He's the quiet and fast one that is nearly invisible on the ice if you don't pay attention to him.
His sneaky ability to not be seen isn't put to use just on the ice to suprise his opponents. He especially likes to use it when scaring his beloved wife, you.
You waited for Azriel to come back home from yet another training. The playoffs are close, and they are working harder than ever. He stays there even longer than his teammates, scared of failing once again - no one on the Velaris team wants to lose in the semifinals like last year. They made stupid mistakes that couldn't happen again. All of them will make sure of it.
With lids feeling heavier every second, you try to still pay attention to your favourite show. It will surely keep you awake until Azriel arrives home.
Long yawn left you as something touched your shoulder. With scream, you jumped up. Now awake and aware with a feeling of adrenaline. You quickly grabbed the vase that was on the coffee table, on which you nearly fell. Ready to fight any intruder that could come in your home. "Woah, who knew I married such a dangerous woman." Focusing your eyes and slowly calming down, you realise that the scary intruder is just your husband finally home. With that, you put down the vase and jumped on him, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Never scare me like that again," you whisper into his lips. "I wouldn't dream of it." He finally kissed you with plans that will keep you awake for the whole night.
Azriel isn't exactly the type to force you to wear his jersey to games. It's up to you, you can wear whatever you want. He can fight. But oh, mother, when you wear his jersey, it awakes something in him. You having his name on your ass and in your passport is dream come true for him. He is thanking the stars every night for blessing him with your presence.
It was an important match today, the whole Velaris team stressing about it for weeks. This match will decide which team will go to playoffs. Azriel left long ago, which left you home alone with a lot of work. You didn't mind, though. At least you could take your mind off the potential loss that can happen today.
Being finally done with all chores, you decided it's the time to start getting ready. It's better to be there sooner rather than later. Knowing that Azriel doesn't play well without his good luck kiss. Your heart nearly stopped when you checked the time. The game starts in twenty minutes. It's nowhere the time you wished you would have. Your hair is still messy, dressed in Azriels shirt without make up you started running around the house, trying to get ready as fast as possible. Glad for the fact that the stadium was 5 minutes from your home if you ran. Swiftly putting on stray pants that were on the floor, where you threw them yesterday, grabbing Azriels jersey you run out of the house. Your feet took you to the stadium in a record time of three minutes, quickly finding your way to the cabins where the players are probably now doing the last steps of their pregame routine. You open the door while taking deep breaths. "Azriel". Azriels shoulders visibly releax, "you came." He whispered like he thought you forgot, like you wouldn't come to support your husband in the second thing that mattered the most to him. "Of course I did"
As said before, Azriel has to have his good luck kiss, or he just can't play well. Everybody teases him for it, but behind his back, they are begging you to never skip his game. The one time it happened was enough.
Fortunately for everyone, it was just practice match before the season, where it didn't exactly matter if the team won. But every match mattered to them, no matter with whom or when. They are here to show they are the best.
That's probably why everybody was taken by suprised when Azriel was clumsy on the ice and couldn't keep balance. His usually incredibly fast skating turned into woblly slow skating. It got that bad he himself decided not to play that day, saying that he just can't.
Azriel never exactly told anyone it was cause you didn't came to the game and weren't his lucky charm. But it was more than clear to anyone who isn't blind.
Since that day, you had to come to every game. And if you couldn't, well you suddenly could. Because Cassian has no problem with stealing you away and bringing you to the game
"No, Cass, I really can't come. I have to do this work. I can probably make it in time for third period, but I'm not sure." Explaning your reasons to Cassian was harder than anyone could ever imagine. He didn't understand that you had work that had to be done today or that your boss would literally kick you out. Sometimes, you feel like your boss is secret hater of your boyfriend, and that's why he tries to keep you in work longer, just on days when he plays. "You will come, we don't care about your opinion." Cassian responded stubborn as ever, "well I don't care about yours too. " With that, you left the call, finally doing papers given to you by the boss.
Ten minutes in someone barged into your office, putting you over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Cassian! What the hell are you doing?!" You yelled at him, keeping your anger at bay, or you would have to punch him. "Saving the match" confidence and pride dripping from his voice. You lifted up your head, looking at him with an annoyed look. "Fine." Crossing your arms letting out a sigh still swinging over his shoulder, "but I swear to gods, if I get fired, you will send me money every month"
Don't think that your relationship with Azriel is any secret or not medially famous. It's quite the opposite.
You two are the most famous and loved couple in hockey word. Sometimes, Rhysand is jokingly complaining about how you're stealing his spotlight and becoming more famous than the whole team.
People love to edit you two with cute songs and use every cute clip that is on the internet.
The most famous being moment where he is on the ice sending you kiss after scoring a goal. Or where someone recorded you two while skating on public ring, Azriel having to hold your hands so you don't fall. It resulted in both of you falling because some kid bumped into you.
Not to mention that Azriel loved taking you to all of his interviews. Like all of them.
Reporter wanting to have an interview with him without you? Nope, it's not happening. You two are double version, it's not possible to get one without the other.
"So Azriel, tell us, what was the biggest motivation for winning this match? Was there something - perhaps someone you won this for?" Azriel nodded his head and looked at you, love sparkling in his eyes. " Of course I did. Like every match. " The camera captures the way his hand snakes around your waist, with feathery like touches caressing it.
"I won it for my wife"
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coco-loco-nut · 3 days
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Book Club - Part 6
pairing: Lance Stroll x Reader, Grid x Reader
summary: you and lance have a talent for traumating the grid *insert emotional damage meme here*
requests open masterlist
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It was safe to say that that you and Lance were still very much in your honeymoon phase when you got to testing. Both of you very tan from your weeks spent on the beach.
“Y/n! You surprised the world when you announced your marriage and name change, Anything you want to say about it?” One of your favorite interviewers asks you as you walk hand in hand to the paddock with Lance.
“Sure, yeah. Lance and I have been together for a long time, so getting married was just the natural next step. It was a small wedding with close friends and family. Regarding my new name, alittle over a year ago, Kimi offered to mentor me and we forged a very close bond. He is basically my father and his kids are my siblings, so with the blessing of the family I wanted to honor the relationship the best way I knew how. Racing under the Räikkönen name is such a huge honor and I can’t thank my dad and family enough for the honor,” you beam, more than happy to talk about your family.
“How did Kimi react when you told him you were taking his name both legally and when racing,” she asks, your joy infectious.
“He was so happy, I told him at the wedding, yeah. We are such a tight family, I can’t thank them enough for bringing me into their family and allowing me to take their last name. And Lance has been wonderful about it, he actually suggested hyphenating the names,” you tell her. Usually you are pretty tight lipped, but you with happily talk with her.
“Alright, onto what actually matters. How are you feeling going into testing with Red Bull?” she asks and you take a step back into your normal interview style.
“Good. I certainly miss Checo here, but the car feels good. We will see how testing goes and work from there,” Lance gives you a look that says you will be late and the journalist notices.
“Thanks for chatting, and congratulations,” she says and you nod in thanks before walking away.
“You look very hot today, Mrs Räikkönen-Stroll,” Lance says kissing the side of your head.
“Maybe so, but nothing compares to you post race,” your cheeks flame a little. Lance pulls you into a small alley between motorhomes. You are pressed against the wall as Lance kisses you, hands tangled in each other’s hair.
“OH MY GOD!” you hear Daniel shriek.
“MY EYES!” Valtteri screams. Lance quickly pulls away from you as the four of you look at each like deer in the headlights. Daniel and Valtteri quickly walk away, leaving you and Lance giggling like school kids.
The club atmosphere was off when you walked in, taking a seat beside Logan. Valtteri can’t look you in the eyes while Daniel isn’t sure whether his is proud or scarred for life.
“Fernando, I was not aware of your taste in books,” Nico says, a little flushed thinking about what they had to read.
“Yeah, a smut book? We do have innocent eyes here,” Kevin looks at you and Logan.
“Innocent?” Logan asks, a breathy laugh behind it.
“The beach scene?” Lewis suggests you all start on.
“The writing was phenomenal, the author really captured the emotions and sensations. It read so raw, so lifelike. It was one of the few times that art imitated life. She captured every intimate thought and feeling that a woman gets when she is having sex. I remember during the honeymoon when Lance and I did something similar on the private beach and wow, the author really nailed it,” you say, not quite realizing what you had just revealed to the group.
“Damn, Y/n, I didn’t realize you and Lance were freaks like that. Respect,” Daniel says, never being one to shy away from sex. Your face twists in mortification at what you unintentionally revealed. The guys look at eachother mortified as well.
You were an adult, they knew that, but in their subconscious mind you haven’t done anything more than kiss a boy. That’s how you end up following them as they storm across the paddock.
“Logan! Help me stop them,” you look at him with panic in your eyes as the group nears the Aston Martin garage.
“Hell no, this is so funny,” he says and you huff. You see the guys cornering Lance.
“YOU RUINED OUR DAUGHTER?!” Fernando yells at his teammate. You just want to sink into a corner and die, similar to how Lance appears.
“Our precious, innocent, child. What’s next? Logan has slept with a girl?” Valtteri says.
“HEY!” Logan yells in offense. The guys’ faces drain of more color.
“You too? This isn’t ok,” Kevin says and you spot Max and Lando trying not to laugh, the two of them having seen the commotion and wanted to check it out.
“I think you guys are forgetting that the three of us are consenting adults, we aren’t kids anymore,” you say softly, Logan and Lance standing by you, the latter still scared.
“Tell that to Kimi,” Nico chuckles and you groan at the mention of your dad.
“Alright, stop harassing my teammate, we have meetings,” Max breaks everyone up, leading you away.
“Thanks, Maxie,” you let out a breath of relief.
“Do I want to know?” he laughs.
“No, I don’t think so,” you return his laugh. You just hope that your book club meeting will be smoother tomorrow morning.
The next morning, you walk into the room happy and perky as usual.
“You okay, Fernando?” Logan asks when he notices Fernando on his third cup of coffee and the tiredness in his eyes.
“The hotel has thin walls. My hotel room shares a wall with Lance’s,” Fernando says, giving you a look that makes you blush in embarrassment, wishing the earth would open up and eat you whole.
“It is natural. They are young and in love, maybe we will have a baby Stroll soon,” Lewis says and your eyes light up.
“We will!” you say, quickly pulling out your phone. The older drivers hearts sink, all slightly panicking. “Oh my god, I’m not pregnant guys, we are just getting a puppy,” you laugh at their faces.
“I would like to make a motion to kick Y/n out of the book club due to the amount of emotional distress she has given the members this weekend,” Valtteri says, and your jaw drop.
“Alright alright, but you don’t understand the almost of trauma I went through having rooms that neighbored all of you during my first year here,” you point your finger at all of them.
“Motion denied,” Daniel sighs, knowing he was probably one of the main culprits.
“So, this dog?” Nico says, changing the subject.
instagram
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y/username EVERYONE MEET MY BABY!
since I’m too young to have a baby (according to the club) here is my baby holding our baby, Milo Stroll ❤️🐾🐶
logansargeant look at how big his paws are! he’s gonna be a big boy 😍
y/username his favorite uncle 🥰
danielricciardo @y/username I take offense to that
user1 y/n really had me in the first half
nicohulkenberg she had us too the first time she brought up Milo in conversation
lancestroll what a hot mama 😮‍💨
y/username nothing compared to the absolute DILF holding my sweet puppy in the picture
georgerussel MY EYES! MY INNOCENT EYES
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Yoongi Fic Recommendations
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a - angst f - fluff s - smut
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Series
In the Margins (a s f) ⊹₊⋆ You weren’t sure what he would look like. His writing made you think of a cabin nestled among tall pines, a well-worn cardigan, a scotch neat, and a wistful wisp of smoke seeping into the air from the bowl of an unattended tobacco pipe. What stands before you now is a studio apartment in the city, cigarette butts, coffee stains, and a scowl. There’s definitely been a mistake.
Fix You (f a) ⊹₊⋆ When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal?
desolate (a f s) ⊹₊⋆ you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.
One Shots
Set Me Free (a f) ⊹₊⋆ Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to?
back-burner (a f s) ⊹₊⋆ sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete?
Love Language (a s f) ⊹₊⋆ Your boyfriend obviously loves you, but his silence has you questioning if he *wants* you. If you could only get past your damn insecurities maybe you could appreciate what you have.
27 Phone Numbers (f) ⊹₊⋆ Yoongi has gone through twenty-seven phone numbers over the last ten years, and you haven’t changed yours since high school. 
sweetner (f s) ⊹₊⋆ You used to know how he sounded when you were wrapped around him, but circumstances have pulled you apart and sent you scattering in opposite directions. Feelings shouldn't reappear so easily by simple words, but when you find yourselves in the same place once again, this is exactly what happens.
One Chance (f) ⊹₊⋆ A musical genius, a guy with a bad reputation, your assigned partner for your final project. And the last thing you ever would have expected.
Seasons Change (a s) ⊹₊⋆ Min Yoongi and you, through the seasons, break up and come back together. Nobody said love was easy.
All That Holly, Jolly Sh*t (a f s) ⊹₊⋆ You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?
Now We Reign (a s f) ⊹₊⋆ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?
take five (a f) ⊹₊⋆ you're min yoongi's nurse and you have a crush on him, and he gives you five chances to ask him out - he never said anything about accepting though.
The Final - Day 02 (s) ⊹₊⋆ You've been Yoongi's go-to companion for the past few years, well aware that's all you were going to be. Despite your very real, growing feelings for the rapper, you took what you could get every time. Now, you're backstage at day two of the final leg of his tour when another member takes an interest in you. Will it be enough to make Yoongi realize he's got competition?
hello soulmate (f) ⊹₊⋆ your first day on the job doesn't turn out the exact way you envisioned
Sugar Rush Ride (s) ⊹₊⋆ You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.
fuck being friends (a f s) ⊹₊⋆ as if watching the guy you were hopelessly in love with hook up with another girl each weekend wasn’t enough, he also happened to be your best friend, making things extra complicated. and it only gets worse and worse once he finds you crying in the bathroom at a party one night.
Take One (s f) ⊹₊⋆ There are three things which Yoongi was certain of. One, he was a big star in his field of work. Two, he had a huge cock, one to rival many of the largest names in his industry. Three, he can only find pleasure these days in written word. 
Illicit Favors (f s) ⊹₊⋆ When your editor tells you to re-write the chapters of your book because the sex scenes are weak, suggesting you write them from experience, what do you do when you lack any kind of sexual experiences in general? You go to your friend and ask him for help with it.
Bet On It (s) ⊹₊⋆ What's a little wager between enemies? How about if it's your body on the line?
subscribed (s f) ⊹₊⋆ you find out that youtube isn’t the only site he uses to satisfy his subscribers. what do you do with that information?
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koinotame · 2 days
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quick apology fic to xiao for missing his bday </3 which doubles as a character study of xiao and an exploration of how you as the player interact with the self aware characters in self aware au
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it’s been a couple of weeks since you last used him.
or has it only been several days? whether it’s days or years, it all feels like the blink of an eye to him. the flow of time is somewhat of a nebulous concept for someone like him, especially since you first appeared.
it doesn’t matter. however long you take to come back, xiao will wait dutifully for you.
he spends most of his time when you’re not making use of him subjugating threats around liyue and fighting off any unwanted foes. perhaps you’ll come back faster if the area is freer of enemies. you’re kind, after all. you seem much happier when it’s peaceful.
lately, when there’s no demons for him to quell, he’s found himself returning to the same spot on wangshu inn’s upper balcony. it’s the spot you always drop him off at before disappearing. it’s not the place at the top of the inn’s roof he’d pick on his own, though you do sometimes take him up there as well.
you’re not actually there, but if he closes his eyes it almost feels like you are.
his birthday was a couple days ago. as usual, the traveller had suggested he write you a letter. as usual, he wasn’t sure what he could possibly convey to you that you would be happy to receive.
the traveller insisted anything from him would make you happy, but xiao doubts that.
it’s easier when you’re here. it’s easier when you’re here and he can submit himself entirely to you and doesn’t have to think for himself.
he’s been dreaming more lately, particularly of you. he doesn’t know what you look like, and after he wakes up he can never quite remember what you looked like in his dreams.
waking up after dreaming of you is always hard for xiao. it’s shameful how badly he wants to go back to dreaming of doing such mundane things with you, and it’s disgraceful how long it takes him to pick himself back up afterwards.
he wonders if you’d like doing dull things like that with someone like him.
he wonders if he deserves that.
probably not.
he left the letter at the railing of that same—your—spot, along with a serving of his almond tofu (he might not like dreaming, but he hopes your dreams are as sweet as his have been lately), some dream solvent (the traveller had mentioned you seemed to want more) and a small bundle of qixing (you frequently go out of your way to collect it).
you never touch it.
…after a couple days, he decided to move the offering to his room. it stays there, on his windowsill where the sun touches it in a way that reminds him of your warmth, untouched.
it doesn’t matter, he tells himself. he’ll wait for you for as long as you want. even if another thousand years pass before you appear again, he’ll continue his duty and wait.
and then he blinks and suddenly finds himself in front of the adventurer’s guild in the court of fontaine.
another blink and he’s back at wangshu inn, this time heading towards the kitchen. the familiar aura of your possession fills him with a warmth he doesn’t think exists outside of you. he zones out for what feels no longer than a couple seconds, and suddenly there’s thirty servings of almond tofu in front of him.
your mood drops.
dissatisfaction seeps through you and into him. something deep in his gut squirms.
you set a large amount of sweet flowers to boil, then seem to fuss with something he can’t quite see or grasp. smiley yanxiao gives him a curious look, but doesn’t (cannot) comment any further.
in another couple of seconds—your teleportation hardly fazed him when you first started using him, let alone now when he’s so used to your presence—he’s in front of the liyuean general goods store. you buy up the entire stock of milk, and only milk.
your mood hasn’t improved. if anything, you seem even more downcast.
the milk dissipates as soon as it’s been bought, safely held in your near infinite storage.
he’s behind mondstadt’s hotel next, jumping down the railing and towards the local general goods store. again, you buy up all the milk. next you head for the good hunter (is that what it’s called? he thinks that’s what the traveller called it some time ago) and purchase as much of their sugar as you can.
tendrils of something truly unpleasant move upwards and wrap around his neck.
he finds himself in wangshu inn’s kitchen again. barely any of the sweet flowers have been processed, but you take the two packs of sugar anyway. you put him to work immediately.
usually, he finds the process of cooking much to tedious and drawn out. with you, he doesn’t mind.
you seem a bit more satisfied this time, and xiao finds himself ashamed of having made a few more of his specialty dish instead of only regular almond tofu like you’d wanted him to.
while you seem a bit happier now, he still finds himself in front of inazuma’s goods store. again, you buy all the milk. you talk to the restaurant owner up the stairs afterwards. some confusion creeps into him through you, but it doesn’t last long.
he’s in sumeru next. more milk makes its way into your inventory, and you visit the local tavern for good measure, though this time you don’t buy anything at all.
exiting the building, you seem to notice there’s a stove just outside of it and walk over in excitement… and straight into the clay oven.
a sharp pang of panic shoots through him and he jerks backwards. it takes him a second to realise it’s your panic.
immediately, you pull the astrologer from mondstadt out and have her set down her little hydro puppet. you then walk him through it, which does absolutely nothing except soak his clothes.
your panic doesn’t subside.
i’m sorry.
he blinks and finds himself in front of dihua marsh’s statue of the seven, the fire and the tinge it brought with it disappearing in seconds.
it’s rare to be able to make out what you’re actually saying as opposed to just feeling your vague emotions and intentions. are you that worried about him not performing up to standard with this little damage?
he’s yours to use. a little singe like that would never hold him back.
you don’t bother with fontaine.
something like shame curls up his body and makes a home near his ears.
soon after, he’s back at the inn’s kitchen again. yanxiao doesn’t even look in his direction this time as he gets back to work under your guidance, making even more almond tofu. he makes sure to take greater care to avoid displeasing you again.
your mood doesn’t pick up this time, but you seem to have calmed down a little. he’s not sure why (or what use you could possibly have for so much almond tofu), but it’s a small comfort.
part of him wishes he could be there with you properly to comfort you, but he knows better.
he might be your formidable weapon, but that’s all he is. he has no false illusions about his role or purpose to you, no matter how much he wishes he could be the one you turn to for comfort. he isn’t suited to something so delicate. he’s accepted that a long time ago.
your dejection doesn’t retract, even as you move him around a bit more.
then you sit him down at a table at the inn’s terrace and pull out a plate of his specialty.
your presence lingers for a bit, envelops him like a gentle dream, then falls through the cracks of his existence and disappears.
happy birthday, xiao.
he wonders if he deserves this much effort from you for something as inconsequential as his birthday.
probably not.
he hopes he’ll dream of this next.
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essektheylyss · 1 day
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This was entirely tangential to this post from @utilitycaster which is why this is its own post, but the tags made me think about what feels most compelling about Liliana to me, and it's really because there's such an interesting approach to redemption in terms of the sunk cost fallacy to be had there.
There have been plenty of comparisons between Liliana and Essek, but I don't think they're really situations that can be compared. Essek had done one horrible thing (that was of relevence to the story; it is implied that he's taken other actions that he feels were wrong, but we don't know what those entail nor do the Nein care enough to ask, so per narrative convention, they do not matter for analysis) and was only still involved in it to the extent that he couldn't take it back, so to survive he had to continue covering his tracks. But he was also incentivized to otherwise act in alignment with the group that was not those on behalf of whom he had made terrible choices, because he was still living in the Dynasty, and as such wasn't actively perpetuating those actions beyond the cover up.
Liliana on the other hand is acting with the Vanguard and has been furthering if not personally committing atrocities on their behalf for a number of years, continuing to the present. Like Essek, she believes her involvement in the cause to be a difficult choice that was made for noble reasons, and now can't see a way out. But she is also relieved to be told to stay, though at the point that they discuss her leaving, she is alone and outside the immediate range of contact or oversight from the Vanguard. It seems reasonable that she could disappear with a decent headstart, and perhaps become untraceable quickly enough to be safe from anyone following. With this context, returning to the Vanguard with the intention of feeding information to the opposition feels like the riskier choice, but crucially it is the devil she knows.
I actually liken this more to Cassandra de Rolo than Essek. Cassandra was manipulated against her brother by the Briarwoods, but this was also spurred by having watched Percy seemingly leave her for dead. There are legitimate reasons why the Briarwoods, as the people who rescued her and then kept her alive for many years, are the easier option in which to place her trust. She knows what she's getting from that vantage point and how to handle it. She doesn't inherently have faith that someone she only knew as a young and helpless child, who ran from the hardships she's faced, would have the strength or willingness to do what she has found necessary for survival.
I think that Liliana's actions are more willful, not least because she was not a child nor in mortal peril when she joined the Vanguard, but she sees herself as having made difficult choices when only faced with difficult options, and I do think they have been difficult. She didn't want to leave her family; she doesn't want to hurt the young Ruidusborn under her care; she is probably genuinely sorry that innocent people were considered a necessary sacrifice for what she sees as the greater good. It is psychologically taxing to feel as though one is always picking between bad options, which is a significant contributing factor for why people buy into a sunk cost for so long. And over time, those hard decisions become easier, because you know what to expect from the outcome. Though Liliana is well aware that she might be killed for a misstep among the Vanguard, she already knows how to act to maintain their favor, but how she might be received on Exandria by those fighting the Vanguard, even with the Hells vouching for her, is anyone's guess.
This is a very real reason why people remain in cults and struggle to push back against this kind of conditioning: because the decision to leave feels more immediately perilous than the decision to stay. (On a certain level making these kinds of choices and actions habitual is a fundamental basis behind a lot of military conditioning.) And if you are acting in the interests of your own survival, but that survival comes at the cost of that of countless others who have not, in fact, made any threat or harm against you to begin with, then is the nature of your survival morally defensible?
This analysis isn't a question of whether Liliana will commit to her role as double agent and turn fully against the Vanguard, or even which one of these is a "better" story; this is about what the story might say if she doesn't. Yes, she might commit to a different path than the one she's on and make an effort to redeem herself, but it is also a perfectly coherent and interesting story if she doesn't.
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fanstuffrantings · 21 hours
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So I know people hate Kipperlilly and that's valid, but the tragedy of her existing as she is especially after the most recent episode actually makes me feel so bad for her. I hope the rat grinders get redemption.
Kipperlilly has wanted to succeed for so long, she had irrational hatred for her peers because she wanted success and glory and was unremarkable in her life. She was jealous and trying and thought that her unremarkable existence could be overshadowed if she simply was the best. But everything she did to get success only further cemented her into being forgettable. She gets so angry over this and as someone who was an irrationally angry teenager I get it so much.
And she was aware of this. She regularly visited Jawbone and we can't pretend it wasn't because she was selfaware of her own shortcomings. She knew her anger was messed up and I just know she was trying to figure out some way to get rid of it. Because being that angry all the time is horrible. She was probably frustrated and just wanted to cope. And jawbone helped. He wasn't perfect but he helped and that's why this girl from freshman to sophomore year kept returning.
She was self aware enough for his subtle questions to help her calm down. And yet an adult in her life was made aware of her mental health problems and chose to exploit them. Things she confided to a trusted adult got turned back on her leading to her and her party becoming tools, or dying if they refused.
Now kipperlilly isn't faultless. She's killed people, she's antagonistic and cruel, but her being a victim and a teenager just trying to get help makes me so incredibly sad for what she's become.
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strugglingbigtimw · 2 days
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“To lead a better life, I need my love to be here”
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Summary: Toji notices something is off about you after you take care of Megumi. Genre: Fluff, angst, hurt, comfort, toji x black!stepmom! Reader
CW: Literally nothing, toji and reader curse, discussions of addiction, Toji calls reader Ma
A/N: This man takes up too much space in my brain. 🤡
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6:47 P.M 
Toji knew there was something off when he came back home that day. 
The silence engulfed the house, with only the occasional sound of your knife slicing into the meat you were preparing for dinner. 
7:25 P.M 
When he finally gets a good look at you at dinner, you look shaky. Your eyes swirl with worry. So, he bites.
“How was the parent-teacher conference?” 
You snap your head up and put a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “It went well. Megumi is a great student, the teachers are mostly worried because he is quiet. They say he needs to participate more in class and interpersonal discussions.” 
Megumi casually rolls his eyes hearing the conversation and goes back to finishing his vegetables. 
Toji looks you over. Maybe, you're just tired? Probably, a mood swing of yours. He shrugs and looks down at his plate. 
“...Ok.” 
10:00 P.M
The night is deadly quiet. He hoped that after Megumi had gone to sleep, you would be better. You weren’t. So, he put his faith in a good night’s rest. It’s been an off day for you, you can just sleep it off. 
3:30 A.M 
Toji wakes up to an empty bed. He fucking hates it. It reminds him of the lonely days of being a widower. He slowly gets up and begins his mission to find you. 
He checks the bathroom and doesn’t find you nor does he find you in the guest bedroom. So, he goes downstairs. He finds you lying on the couch with the tv playing some type of liminal rain ASMR, or whatever white noise helps you sleep. However, when he peeks over the arm, you’re still awake. 
“Ma, are you aware of what time it is?” He asks cheekily. 
You slowly rise and rub your eyes. Even with the low glow of the TV, he can tell they’re puffier than usual. He bites for a second time. 
“Hey Ma, what’s got you so worked up huh?” 
You look down. “Nothing, baby.” 
Toji sits down on the couch. The third time is the charm right? 
“Bullshit. What happened? Hm?” 
You sigh. Toji has always been persistent. 
“Toji..have you ever noticed that Megumi is like really mature for his age?”
He tilts his head to the side as if you’ve asked him the most idiotic question. 
“ ‘m, yeah. What about it?” 
You scratch at the nicotine patch on your arm. You stopped smoking when Toji decided he and Megumi would move in with you almost a year ago. 
“I don’t see any reason why you should stop, seems like more trouble than it’s worth.” 
“Kids learn by example, If I smoke what kind of message is that sending to Megumi?” 
You fiddle with the patch, still unused to the foreign feel as you grin. 
“Besides, I don’t think he would like the smell.”
“Toji…that’s not normal.” You sigh. 
He raises a brow. He knew Megumi was different. However, he always accepted  it as a funny, convenient quirk. 
You stand up and drag your hands down your face. 
“Kids are kids for a reason Toji. They’re supposed to be chaotic, messy, emotional, hell even unpredictable. Megumi is none of those. Every move that child makes is so carefully planned and throughout. He’s never excited about toys, games, or cartoons. he’s always offering to help around the house, Toji he fuckin asked me about our finances once. Hell, even his teachers agree! How can you look me dead in the eyes and tell me that a 6-year-old is “Mature for his age” as a good thing!” 
You take a heavy pause. You scratch at your leg. 
“He’s only a first grader Toji. He shouldn’t be like this. He-he shouldn’t be a mini adult! He shouldn’t have his guard up all the fuckin time! He’s a child!” 
You sit back down on the couch and throw your head between your legs. Toji rubs your hands that are placed on the back of your head. 
Your voice cracks, “And-and I know I’m not his mother, hell, I’d never try to replace her. I don’t need him to call me “mom” and have me baby him 24/7, but god..god I’m so fuckin worried.” 
You raise your head slightly. Your eyes have become more red and puffy with unshed tears. Toji knows you hate crying. You’ve only cried in front of him twice. First time when you thought your pet Doberman ran away. Second, when you picked Megumi up from school, his homeroom teacher referred to you as his mother. 
“I…I just want to tell him that he’s safe. That-that he doesn’t have to worry about not keeping everything in check. That he can exist without having to be “useful”, that he’s not a burden or unlovable because he’s a little kid. I just want him to exist. I just- just don’t want him to turn out like us.” 
You slump back on the couch and scratch your nicotine patch again. You look at Toji with glossy eyes. 
Usually, he’d put in a snarky remark of “What’s so wrong about me, huh?” but he’s all too aware. Additionally, the shock of you acknowledging your family. He’s always had suspicions, but he, of all people, knew better than to ask. If someone doesn’t talk about their family, its for a reason.
He looks back at you and pulls you into a hug. You lay your head on his broad shoulder. You’re shaking. He slowly leans back to lay you both down. He runs his hand through your scalp. 
“You know…” He quietly speaks, almost as if he’s afraid to startle you. 
You turn your head to hear him better. 
“I think..you’re pretty great. I think…that me and Megumi are thankful to have someone like you. It’s hard right now…but things take time. Don’t push yourself.” 
A few loose tears fall as you snuggle in closer to him. 
“Thank you, baby.”
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callisto-corner · 2 days
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Bodyguard Geto | Geto Suguru
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BodyguardGeto! who exudes sex appeal no matter what time of day it is which is only heightened by his customary attire consisting of a blend of black and white.
BodyguardGeto! who was the first bodyguard to speak to you willingly instead of nodding and giving dry responses.
BodyguardGeto! who waits outside everyday after work at exactly five pm and if you have extra hours he stays with you.
BodyguardGeto! who you can have meaningful conversations with and exchange insights of various topics.
BodyguardGeto! who on your birthday surprises you with a day filled with adventure and excitement, taking you to all your favorite places and indulging in activities that bring joy to your heart. His thoughtful gestures and genuine affection make the day unforgettable.
BodyguardGeto! who finds unsuspicious ways to touch you.
BodyguardGeto! who loves taking photos of you at your happiest and makes it his mission to capture it in photographs, cherishing those moments of happiness forever.
BodyguardGeto! who agrees to give valuable knowledge about situational awareness, and teach basic self-defense techniques, and proper firearm handling.
BodyguardGeto! who is obsessed with your smile.
BodyguardGeto! who loves night drives which becomes a cherished ritual between the two of you. With the city lights twinkling in the distance, as you share intimate conversations and stolen moments, feeling safe and cherished in his presence.
BodyguardGeto! who is versatile in the kitchen from pastries to magical dinners communicating silently over the best wines provided by him
BodygaurdGeto! who smells amazing which ultimately makes every hug worthwhile and every hug is a magical experience.
BodyguardGeto! who takes you to see the fireworks every year on new years.
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blixssily · 2 days
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"i love you, it's ruining my life."
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| being bailed out by your ex is sure to bring back lingering feelings, no?
| dazai osamu x reader
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˓ ꒱ notes and disclaimers: pm!reader and ada!dazai. dazai is reader's ex lover from the port mafia. gn reader. reader and dazai are both in their 20s. incorrect jail description. not proof read, apologies for any grammatical mistakes! might be incredibly ooc and might contain wrong information about the port mafia, apologies for both.
˓ ꒱ authors notes: in light of taylor swift's new album coming out, i'm trying my hand at writing for dazai!! i'm bad at writing angst so please bare with me. :(
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the cold metal confinements are tight around wrists, the officers must've cuffed you a tiny bit too tightly you think. the blank grey walls of your prison are as uninspiring as your thoughts, you can't even find it in yourself to even try to escape from jail. to the majority of the members in the Port Mafia, crime was almost always a guarantee during missions. treading the lines of the law was a common thing, most missions included breaking those precious regulations. it was almost like the law had just become mere suggestions, guidance that you could choose to follow or not.
and sadly for you, the hands of the law had finally caught up with you this time, confining you into a bland concrete box. you were currently sitting on the bed that came with every little cell. not even sitting on it was comfortable, much less laying down on it. despite how uncomfortable the bed was, it would be quiet a pathetic sight for a Port Mafia executive to be sitting on the floor and just staring at the wall so you decided against it.
normally whenever you were unlucky enough to have been caught by the law, someone from the Port Mafia would bail you out, namely Mori or maybe some other executive. you weren't too surprised when an officer informed you that you had been bailed out, preparing your usual apology and to listen through a few lectures from whoever bailed you out on to be more careful during missions.
you're escorted out of your little concrete box, you wonder if the officer is going to remove the hand cuffs around your wrists. you follow the officer down the prison hallway, thankful to not be sitting on that god awful bed that you could've sworn was just a rock with a blanket draped over it. you're expecting to be met with a very displeased boss, preparing your apology for your clumsiness in being caught when.. you don't see him at all. in fact, you see someone you thought you'd never see again.
he looks.. different. he's grown taller, you're sure of it. he's been ridden of his usual black trench coat you always saw him in, his right eye and cheek no longer being covered by the fabric of gauze. instead, he's wearing a tan trench coat now, a bolo tie replacing his usual tie when he was in the Port Mafia. his hair messy and curly, not that it was ever neat, god no. you stare at the absence of bandages around his right eye and cheek, revealing his complete face and you can't help but mentally kick yourself for staring a little longer than necessary.
and suddenly, you become hyper aware of the sinking feeling in your stomach. it makes you sick to look at him, sick that your brain subconsciously forces you to relive your shared memories together. you avert your gaze down to the grey grounds of the prison lobby, unable to meet his gaze without glaring bitterly at him. your ex had apparently bailed you out of jail. your ex boyfriend from years ago when you both were in the Port Mafia. a cocky little smirk adorned his features, maybe he hasn't changed that much in some ways.
you find it in yourself to look up at him, emotions brewing behind your eyes. anger, confusion.. mostly anger, and yet you find it in your heart to feel relief at that fact that he's alright. that's he's not harmed. he had up and left without a word, not even a goodbye to you. you worried for him days on end, calling and texting but to no avail which ended up in you just calling it a breakup, calling him your ex boyfriend. despite the relief, it's minuscule in terms of your anger towards the man you once loved. you glare at him, glare at his stupid cocky smirk and how he seems like he doesn't even care about the history between you two. it's like nothing ever happened between the both of you.
"you're the one who bailed me out? what is this, some sick game you've decided to play?" you scoff at him, there was no way he just.. decided to bail out a Port Mafia executive out of the goodness of his heart, no.. no no no. that couldn't be true. "shame, not even a thank you?" you roll your eyes at his feigned sigh of disappointment. an officer releases your wrists from the metal confinements, red mark were already formed on your wrist. you bring your hands to your wrists, trying to soothe your irritated skin from how tight the hand cuffs were. you don't realise the look in his eyes, the slight change in his expression when he noticed the marks on your wrists. he doesn't like seeing you hurt, he absolutely hates seeing you in pain even if it's a mere scratch or.. in this situation, marks from a police officer's hand cuffs.
"come on now, the least you could do is thank me." he says with another cocky smile, you wish you could just slap it off his face but something tells you that he wouldn't exactly be ecstatic with you slapping his face in a police station.
"what do you want?" you snapped, not in any mood to be dealing with his teasing words accompanied by his usual shit-eating grin. he couldn't have bailed you out for fun, or for some sentimental reason. he wanted something, there was also a price when it came to him. "ah, how harsh! you're breaking my heart here.." the asshole has the gull to even jokingly suggest something like that.
"nothing much, really. just thought i'd help out an old friend." he hums, and you don't know if his words only spark a new flame of anger inside of you or if it wrenches your heart. the fact that he would consider you an "old friend", when you were his literal partner when you both were teenagers.
"an old friend? be a man you asshole, own up to who you broke up with." he doesn't answer, as expected. you're not sure whether you'd even prefer a response from him or just silence.
"let's talk, hm? maybe somewhere else?" he suggests after some time, calmly putting his hands into the pockets of his tan coat. you notice the slight change in expression in his face, you've spent years trying to practically decode this man and it only added to his amusement when you both were teenagers. now, you're thankful you took the time to observe him. you don't know exactly what he wants to talk about but, you know it's something serious.
"fine." you begrudgingly agree to him, sighing as you notice him leaving without another word and you know that's your queue to follow him. you don't know what you were expecting from the bandaged man, but he leads you to a little café. you raise an eyebrow at him when you two reach the front door, not exactly expecting him to take you to a cute little café that sells pastries and drinks. he meets your suspicions gaze with an innocent smile, urging you to step inside before him. what a gentleman. you step inside the humble establishment, greeted with a friendly smile by the cashier before settling into a seat near the back. he sits opposite you, it's almost as if he's treating this like you're his friend and you both are just going for lunch.
"so? you never answered my question." you reminded him, crossing your arms as you lean back on the plush backing of the seats. "what do you want, dazai." it hurts him the way you say his name, his surname. you never did that when you both were together, he liked being addressed as 'osamu' or 'samu' by you, it feels like salt being rubbed into the wound when you call him by his surname.
"oh? i'm deciding whether to get the latte or..." he trails off, noticing the most unamused expression ever on your face. he chuckles at the sight, shaking his head. "i'm only joking." he hums, stopping his little act at looking at the menu on the table. "i.. wanted to see how you were doing, is all." he shrugs, not really having a good explanation for bringing you to this cafe or hell, even bailing you out of jail. "i mean no harm by doing any of this, truly." he adds on before you get to question him, knowing what you were just about to ask him.
did he really mean that? that he wanted to just.. talk? you don't know what you should reply with, as a Port Mafia executive you should've killed him by now for being a traitor, but as his ex.. you're not sure what to feel. truthfully, sure you were pissed off at him for leaving without a word but you just couldn't find it in yourself to hate the man.
"fine, one hour."
"oh come on, two?" he pouts childishly, a sight you hadn't seen for awhile.
"one hour and a half. make it quick." you relent once again, it seemed like he still had the ability to make you soften up to him.
and so with that, you two proceed to awkwardly choose out your drinks for the time being while at the café and try your hands at small talk. it was.. incredibly awkward between the both of you, undoubtedly it was a little weird to even talk about work since well.. him being a Detective at the ADA and with you being a Port Mafia executive, what was there to talk about? it's weird to be so stiff with someone you used to be so comfortable with, you used to be able to talk about anything when you were younger but now it's just.. not the same.
while you two were talking, your phone screen lit up. some message from another Port Mafia member came up, said something about it being urgent. "i.. have to go, it's important." you looked up from your phone to face him, rolling your eyes at the tiny little pout that graced his lips. "a shame, maybe next time?" he suggests, hoping to have another time to talk with you again. you get the feel he misses you dearly.
"maybe." you shrug, standing up from your seat. you slid a napkin over to him, pointing to the corner of your mouth to signal to him that he had something on his. he mutters a small 'thank you', a tiny bit embarrassed that he might indeed have something on the corner of his mouth. as you leave, he uses his phone to check his appearance and.. there wasn't anything there? he thinks it might just be a silly little prank on your end to tease him after so long, he mindlessly flips the napkin in his hands as he puts his phone down.
in the corner of his eye, he noticed some.. writing on the napkin. your... number? you had changed your phone number some time after he left and now, you had given him your current one! it meant that you at least weren't that mad at him after so long, and that you at least wanted to stay in contact with him.
he decides to text you, just in case you decide to change your mind in the mean time of your separation.
your phone lights up as you made your way down the street.
[unknown number, 3:46 p.m ➜ you] "same place, friday?"
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commander-rahrah · 24 hours
Note
I'm excited to read it too! I'm glad you find it interesting! Don't worry about your post because long! Your thoughts are so interesting!
I agree that Astarion would have to come to terms with Reader/Tav's boundaries too since it works both ways! I definitely feel that Astarion would be too lost in drinking from the blood of a sentient creature to notice the signs.
He would feel ashamed when he's aware of their fear yet they still chose to offer despite that might made him feel like he manipulated them like Cazador did to him 😭
What his excuses are if they try to offer in the early days makes sense! He would be too ashamed & terrified to have such a vulnerable conversation with them yet 😞
He would feel safe enough to bring up their fear after he confessed about everything. He would make it clear to them he doesn't want them to suffer by making them do something they don't want to like he did especially after how much they have helped him & how important they are to him 😭
He would respect their decision if they said it's too much for them. He would support everyone's personal choices & autonomies even though the concept is still new to him 😤
He would need an explanation if they insist on feeding him regardless of their fear. They would explain that not only do they trust him, they love him more than they fear it 🥹
He would only accept if they establish some ground rules 👍 like he did when it comes to physical intimacy & sex which is healthy for both of them!
I know it's unrelated but thank you for adding this because you described me pretty well 🤣 I would definitely react to even the smallest of cuts so Astarion quickly but gently sucking it & giving a small kiss on it would be a fantastic distraction 😳
You're welcome! Thank YOU for entertaining me & sharing your thoughts! I'm glad you enjoy putting Astarion and Tav/Reader in all these different scenarios too 🤍
Here's my idea that I would love to hear your opinion! Just to let you know this is quite self-indulgent XD How would Astarion react to GN! Reader/Tav actually had suspicions that he's using them but still chose to believe that he's not. So when he confessed he manipulated them, they're even not angry at him.
They're sad for how much & how long he has suffered to be the way he is now, but they're also genuinely hurt that he did take advantage of their trust in him. They don't blame him but they admit it still hurts and wants some time alone to process it.
After leaving them be, they would go to him when they're ready to talk to him. They would tell him how grateful they are that he chose to come clean with them despite knowing how it would be easier for him to keep quiet for it, and thanked him for trusting them enough to be honest with them.
What do you think of it? I'm curious :3
Hi Anon! Sorry for the super late response, I let this one stew for a little while in my brain and the other night I had this dialogue idea and couldn’t resist writing a little scene about it tonight! I hope you enjoy ❤️
I envisioned this scene happens half way through his confession, and then imagined the rest of the conversation about intimacy and boundaries would happen afterwards! It’s about 1100 words, and canonical Astarion backstory warnings apply — trauma, dark thoughts, etc.
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“I just — I feel awful." Astarion’s throat worked silently, his eyes glancing down to his boots. "Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan — seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me. It was easy — instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in." He finally looked up at your face, studying intensely for your reaction. 
“I—oh,” You pulled your hand away from him as uncertainty flooded your features. He saw your eyes dart back and forth, but they weren’t studying him. No, you were lost in thought. “Oh.”
Astarion licked his lips, his hands ringing together in front of him nervously. “You have every right to be angry.”
“I’m not angry. I thought we… I don’t know what I thought.”
The rest of what he had planned to say vanished out of his mind. Instead it started to betray him, a cruel voice whispering about how he knew you would react like this. Did he really think it would go well?
His pink mouth hung open as he scrambled for what to say, trying to think of how to make this better. But he’d done enough already, hadn’t he?
You crossed your arms over your body, your cheeks flushing deeply. “I feel a bit like a fool. None of it was real, the whole time?”
“Not the whole time,” He confessed as soft, vulnerable moments with you flashed in his mind. The very moments that made him start to drop the act. “It hasn’t been as of late, but before… in the beginning, up until recently, yes.”
His red eyes followed your throat as it bobbed up and down before flicking back up to your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed, your mouth a sad pout.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Astarion whispered, not daring to move forward.
“I’m thinking… I need a moment.” You admitted, already looking behind you and away from him.
His heart sank, but he nodded. “I— okay. Of course.”
And then you were off, your head down as you stalked away from the edge of the beach and back to the warm glow of camp.
He stood there stunned for a moment, before turning around to stare at the dark, choppy waters in front of him. Hundreds of scenarios began to dance in his mind — what if you went back to the camp to tell the others? Would he be met by pointed blades and blazing spells? He imagined being kicked out, staked, cursed, roasted alive with fireballs. Hand delivered to Cazador as extra punishment for his sins. Anything his twisted broken mind could come up with played like a messed up vision.
Astarion didn’t even try to stop the repetitive dark thoughts. It was what he deserved.
Eventually, the vampire slinked back into the camp some time later — once the sky was inky black and the moon was the only light to illuminate the way back to his tent.
“Hi.”
The sound caused his ears and shoulders to perk up instantly. You were sat in the grass and dirt outside of his tent, your arms wrapped around your knees and pulled to your chest.
“Hi.” Gods, he sounded breathless. But he couldn’t see any weapons or angry barbarians or wizards nearby. That was a good sign, right?
“I wasn’t sure when you’d come back.”
He cocked a brow, “I figured you wouldn’t want to see me again.”
A sigh escaped your lips, “Astarion, don’t be dramatic. I asked for time to think — not for you to leave.”
He blinked at your sharp tone, but nodded his head in slight defeat. “You’re right. And you waited for me because—?”
You brushed off your clothes as you stood up to his height, “I would like to finish that conversation, if you’re ready.”
Well, there was no denying the inevitable.
He nodded his head solemnly, stepping forward to open the flap of his tent and inviting you in with a wave of his hand.
The privacy his tent offered was slight, but this late in the night he knew most of his companions would be fast asleep. Quickly lighting a lantern, he joined you on the fabric floor.
His half-dead heart was thundering, the thrumming sound echoing in his pointed ears that he almost missed your quiet voice.
“I understand.”
“What?” His brows furrowed, looking at you with confusion.
“The stories you’ve told me… your scars… I understand why you did it, why you felt the need to do it.” You explained, your voice and eyes tender as you looked at him in the low light. “But you manipulated me, Astarion. You took advantage of me, toyed with me and my emotions to get what you needed. That hurts.”
Astarion’s stomach twisted into a hard knot, “I know.”
“But you also didn’t need to tell me any of this. You could have kept pretending, kept up the charade until we faced Cazador… But you didn’t. Why?”
Now it felt like his stomach was crawling up his torso and into his throat. Gods, what was this feeling? Why did you do this to him. “That’s what I was trying to tell you before. I failed with my plan. It felt apart the moment I realized… that I had fallen for you.” He admitted, but his fluttering heart made more words stumble out of his mouth. “And I know you probably don’t believe me, why would you after everything I just told you. Trust me, nobody feels more stupid about it than I do.”
You cut off his rambling, “I don’t think it’s stupid. I think that’s probably the most honest you’ve been with me since I’ve met you,” You said earnestly. “It would have been a lot easier for you to keep on pretending, wouldn’t it? Pretend I’m just another mark, another means to an end to get through the day.”
“I don’t want easy… I don’t want to just get through the day. Not anymore.” Astarion whispered across the small tent, staring intently at you.
You cocked your head slightly in question, “And what do you want?”
“I want this, I want us — to be real. You deserve something real.”
“So do you, Astarion. You deserve something real.”
Your name escaped his lips as a choked sob as overwhelming wave of emotion settled over him. “I don’t even know what real looks like. How do I give that to you if I—?”
“Do you trust me?”
The vampire nodded through his tears, “Yes.”
“I trust you,” You said softly.
“After everything I’ve done?” He croaked, waving his hands dramatically, “You’d trust a monster—“
You grabbed onto his extended fingers gently, squeezing them. “Yes, even then.”
He looked down at your hands touching, before intertwining his pale fingers with yours carefully. “Maybe you are a fool.”
You let out a breathless laugh, the sound waking up something in him he’d long thought dead. “Maybe, I am. But you fell for me, so what does that make you?”
Astarion’s mouth twitched up until it match your smile, “The luckiest vampire alive.”
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sjw-publishings · 2 days
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Hey Everyone,
I don’t tend to write these kinds of posts on my tumblr page, however I feel this is necessary.
In the event you are not aware, Dumb and Jocked, the main person I do collabs with, and also who is someone who most people might consider to be one of the backbones of the Tumblr TF community, has deactivated his account and left us last week.
Most of the people and I do not know exactly why or how this happened, but it's the reality of the situation unless he somehow does return in the future.
Some tumblrs might still have some of his stories reblogged, including mine, however some of which cannot be accessed as they are stuck at the ‘read more’ page. Notably his longer stories ‘Branded’ and both parts of the major collaboration we did together in ‘Narrow residences’.
If anyone has any of these stories saved somewhere, it would be great if you could either link it to me or post it on Tumblr.
Below will be my farewell to him, in the event he ever does somehow read it. This probably is not the best farewell letter, but it's the best I could do in such short notice and also posting it publicly. —————————————————————
Hey Dumb and Jocked,
Thanks for reading this, and I'm sad to see you go.
We’ve worked on various collabs together and it was fun throughout the years discussing various ideas here and there with you.
Unfortunately, after you left, it just feels really upsetting looking at the stuff you wrote. Even those that were saved from reblogs and reposts from other blogs. While I do want to keep them for memories and also because I did collaborate on some of them, it just feels much sadder trying to indulge in your stories or continue in sequels of it.
I was shocked that you would leave us out of the blue, however a part of me anticipated this.
I'm mostly speculating, but this is a hobby that can be rather controversial and you contributed a massive ton, likely without any compensation. You were quite private in general and talked about stories and bounced off my ideas now and then.
You sort of have a clean gateway if you decide to ever leave for good, as you probably are not really close to anyone here other than writing TF stories.
Some of us hoped that you might return, and speculated maybe it's tumblr accidentally banning you and you would get your account back, but as the days went by, it only reaffirmed that my anticipation was likely correct.
I myself mostly continued on tumblr for you, and I'm not sure if I would continue now that the main reason and person I stuck around for has left without letting any of us know. It is something I will have to decide for myself in the future.
If you ever do return to Tumblr or decide to message me privately to talk about things, that would be great. I do hope you return, even if you don’t write stories that frequently or even at all, so we could talk for a bit.
However I know that I won’t wait forever.
That’s all I will write in this letter. It was fun writing and discussing TF stories with you while it lasted.
-Sjw Publishings
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valkyrieeeee · 12 hours
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You have surgery | Han Jisung
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ᑉ³pairing; Boyfriend! Han Jisung x Reader
ᑉ³genre; Sickfic, Comfort, Fluff,
ᑉ³warnings; Wisdom tooth removal, dentist, Anesthesia, amnesia
ᑉ³Authors Note; Other members coming soon! Based on a true story (me!)
Part of the "He helps you when.." collection. Other members parts: Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin| Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin
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As the nurse administers the anesthesia, you squeeze the hand your holding tightly, drawing strength from their steady grip. You feel a cool sensation spreading through your veins as the anesthesia takes effect, gradually enveloping you in a blanket of warmth and tranquility.
A wave of anxiety washes over you, but it feels distant, muffled by the encroaching haze of unconsciousness. Your palms grow clammy, and your breath comes in short, shallow gasps. He reaches out, His touch is barely perceptible, a faint brush against your cheek. His whispered words of encouragement are like echoes from a far-off place, reaching you through layers of fog.
"Hey, you've got this," he murmurs softly, his voice fading into the recesses of your mind. "I know you're scared, but you're the bravest person I know. I'll be right here when you wake up, holding your hand okay?" His words cling to your consciousness like a passing dream.
With one final breath, you faintly hear the words "I love you" as you close your eyes, letting go of your fears and surrendering to the gentle embrace of unconsciousness.
-
As consciousness slowly returns, you find yourself floating in a hazy fog, your senses dulled by the lingering effects of anesthesia. Your eyelids flutter open, revealing a dimly lit room swirling with shadows and blurred shapes.
Confusion washes over you as you struggle to make sense of your surroundings. The faces that hover at the edge of your vision are unfamiliar, their features distorted and indistinct.
Panic begins to rise within you, a knot of fear tightening in your chest as you search desperately for something familiar, something to anchor you. Your heart races in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as panic tightens its grip around your throat.
You try to push through the fog, to grasp onto fleeting fragments of memory that slip through your fingers like grains of sand. But the harder you try, the more elusive they become, slipping further and further beyond your reach.
Desperation claws at the edges of your consciousness, urging you to flee, to escape this nightmare world of shadows and uncertainty. But where can you run when you don't even know where you are?
And then, amidst the chaos of your mind, a voice breaks through the fog, a soft whisper that cuts through the darkness like a beacon of light.
"Hey there, sleepyhead," his voice trembles slightly, gentle yet filled with love. "It's me, Jisung. Do you remember?" he asks softly, his tone laced with a mixture of hope and fear.
"Who are you?" you manage to croak, your voice trembling with confusion and fear. The name 'Jisung' means nothing to you in this moment of disorientation.
A flicker of sadness passes through Jisung's eyes, but he quickly masks it with a reassuring smile, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm Jisung," he repeats gently, his voice tender yet tinged with a hint of disappointment. "Your boyfriend. We've been together for a few years now."
You blink, trying to process his words, but the fog in your mind refuses to dissipate. "I'm sorry," you whisper, your heart heavy with guilt. "I don't remember."
Jisung's expression softens, sadness passing through his eyes once again , but he remains silent, his concern evident in the gentle squeeze of your hand. As you slowly regain awareness, you find yourself in a dimly lit room, the faint scent of antiseptic lingering in the air.
Your gaze sweeps the unfamiliar surroundings, confusion clouding your thoughts. "Where am I?" you murmur, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
"In the hospital," Jisung replies, his tone gentle yet urgent, his words a beacon of reassurance amidst the fog of confusion. "You had your wisdom teeth removed, but you're all done now. Everything's going to be okay," he adds, his voice laced with a desperate plea for recognition, his eyes searching yours for any sign of comprehension.
"Maybe going for a walk might jog your memory," the nurse suggests as she walks into the room, her voice a gentle interruption in the stillness.
You try to sit up, only to realize you're cocooned in warmth, covered in two blankets and a coat. "What's all this?" you say, puzzled by the unexpected comfort.
"You got cold, and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't see you tremble, so I tried to cover you as much as possible," Jisung explains, a slight tremor in his voice betraying his concern as he gestures to his coat draped over you.
With the help of Jisung and the nurse, you slowly stand and begin to shuffle around the hospital corridors, the steady rhythm of your footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. As you move, the motion seems to stir something within you, coaxing snippets of memories to resurface from the depths of your mind. With each step, the fog of confusion begins to lift, replaced by a growing sense of clarity.
And then, like a dam breaking, the first clear memory floods back, washing over you in a rush of recognition.
You pause mid-step, a look of realization dawning on your face.
"BBama," you murmur, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I remember BBama."
Jisung's expression changes, a mix of surprise and mild disappointment crossing his features before he quickly masks it with a forced smile. "Yeah, BBama," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "He's a good boy."
You sense a shift in his demeanor, a subtle tension in the way he grips your hand a little tighter. Guilt washes over you as you realize the impact of your words, the inadvertent reminder of your forgotten memories hitting Jisung harder than you expected.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, reaching out to touch his arm in a silent gesture of apology. "I didn't mean to—"
But before you can finish, Jisung shakes his head, his forced smile softening into a genuine one. "It's okay," he reassures, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of sadness. "It's just... funny how memories work sometimes."
As you walk, Jisung's disappointment hangs heavy in the air, his silence speaking volumes as you navigate the hospital corridors together. You can feel the weight of his unspoken thoughts, a palpable tension in the way he holds himself.
Guilt gnaws at your insides as you realize the depth of his disappointment, the fear that perhaps you'll never fully remember the moments you've shared together. You want to reach out, to erase the hurt etched into the lines of his face, but words fail you in the face of such uncertainty.
Lost in thought, you suddenly remember a fleeting moment, a snapshot of a memory that cuts through the fog.
"The ferris wheel," you say, a smile playing at the corners of your lips as you recount the memory that has surfaced in your mind. "It was a sunny afternoon, and we went to the carnival. We got on rides, and we laughed and talked for hours."
Jisung's eyes light up with recognition, a spark of joy dancing in their depths as the memory comes flooding back to him. "I remember that day," he says softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "It was one of the best days of my life."
"You were afraid of heights and got scared at the top of the wheel. I kissed you to calm your nerves," you recall, a blush tinting your cheeks as you relive the tender moment. "And in that moment, everything felt... perfect," you add, your heart fluttering at the memory of Jisung's comforting embrace.
Jisung's gaze softens, his eyes shining with love and longing as he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "It was perfect," he agrees, his voice barely above a whisper, his thumb brushing gently against your skin.
After spending some time reminiscing in the hospital corridors, Jisung helps you gather your belongings and leads you out of the hospital. He takes your hand gently, guiding you with careful steps as you navigate through the corridors and out into the crisp evening air.
As you step outside, you're greeted by the cool breeze, a welcome relief after the sterile confines of the hospital. Jisung flags down a taxi and helps you into the backseat, ensuring you're comfortable before climbing in beside you.
During the ride home, you lean against Jisung's shoulder, the events of the day catching up with you as exhaustion washes over you. Jisung wraps his arm around you protectively, offering silent comfort as the taxi makes its way through the city streets.
When you arrive home, Jisung helps you out of the taxi and supports you as you make your way inside. Once indoors, he settles you onto the couch, fluffing up pillows to make you comfortable.
"Minho hyung dropped off some soup for us. Let me serve you some," he says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the kitchen.
As you sink into the cushions, the sharp ache in your jaw intensifies, signaling to your senses that the anesthesia is wearing off. Every movement sends a jolt of agony through your body, and you clench your teeth to stifle a cry of pain.
Your eyes brim with tears. Talking feels like shards of glass scraping against your raw gums, and even breathing seems to exacerbate the throbbing ache in your jaw.
With Jisung in the kitchen, you try to compose yourself, not wanting to alarm him. You take slow, shallow breaths, trying to find a way to cope with the overwhelming pain that courses through your body.
But despite your best efforts, silent tears slip down your cheeks, betraying the torment you're enduring. You press a hand to your mouth, muffling the sobs that threaten to escape, not wanting to disturb Jisung as he prepares soup to ease your discomfort.
Minutes feel like hours as you wait for Jisung to return, each second punctuated by sharp pangs of agony that seem to intensify with every passing moment.
Finally, you hear the soft shuffle of footsteps as Jisung reenters the living room, a tray of steaming soup in his hands. He pauses as he sees you, his eyes widening in alarm at the sight of your tear-streaked face.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with concern as he rushes to your side, setting the tray down on the coffee table before gathering you into his arms.
You cling to him desperately, unable to hold back the flood of tears any longer. "It hurts," you manage to choke out between sobs, the words barely audible as you bury your face against his chest.
Jisung holds you close, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I'll make it better, I promise."
You cling to him desperately, your tears soaking into his shirt as you surrender to the overwhelming tide of agony. Each sob racks your body, a symphony of suffering that echoes through the silent night.
"I'm so sorry," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion as he presses another kiss to the top of your head. "I wish I could take away your pain."
As Jisung holds you, he whispers soft words of comfort, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of your suffering. You feel a flicker of relief in his arms, a fleeting respite from the relentless ache that grips your body.
Eventually, Jisung guides you to sit up, his hands gentle as he helps you into a more comfortable position on the couch. He retrieves the tray of soup he prepared earlier and sits beside you, offering you the spoon with a tender smile.
You try to eat, but the pain makes even the simplest of tasks feel like an immense effort. Each attempt to swallow is met with searing agony, and you can't help but feel a sense of incompetence wash over you.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to eat. "I can't do this."
Jisung's heart breaks at the sight of your distress, but he remains steadfast in his support. "It's okay, love," he murmurs softly, his voice a soothing balm as he takes the spoon from your hand and gently feeds you, " Let me help you."
With each spoonful of soup, Jisung's movements are deliberate and gentle, his fingers cradling the spoon as if it were the most precious thing in the world. He watches you intently, his gaze soft and reassuring as he anticipates your needs.
As the warm broth passes your lips, you can feel the tenderness of his touch, his fingers brushing against your skin with a feather-light caress. It's as if he's not just feeding you soup, but pouring his love and care into every bite.
Despite the pain that still lingers in the corners of your mind, you find solace in the simple act of being cared for.
As Jisung continues to feed you spoonfuls of soup, he notices the heaviness in your expression and tries to lighten the mood. With a playful glint in his eyes, he brings the spoon closer to your mouth but then pulls it away with a mischievous smile.
"Here comes the plane!" he says, his voice filled with playful enthusiasm as he mimics the sound of an airplane soaring through the air. He moves the spoon in a swooping motion, as if it's about to land in your mouth, his expression hopeful for a glimpse of your smile.
Despite the pain and discomfort, you can't help but chuckle at his antics. His determination to bring a smile to your face melts away some of the tension, and you find yourself playing along, opening your mouth wide as if ready to accept the imaginary "airplane" spoon. Jisung grins triumphantly as he feeds you the soup.
Once you've finished eating, Jisung takes care of everything, cleaning up the kitchen and washing the dishes with meticulous attention to detail. He returns to you, draping a soft blanket over your shoulders and ensuring you're comfortable on the couch.
Then, he gathers you into his arms, holding you close as you cling to him. He wipes away your remaining tears, whispering words of love and comfort until your sobs subside.
"Shh, it's okay, my love," Jisung murmurs softly, his arms wrapped protectively around you. "You're safe. Just breathe," he whispers, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle kiss. "Let me kiss the pain away," he murmurs, pressing another tender kiss against your temple.
As your tears gradually subside, Jisung holds you close, his warmth enveloping you like a comforting embrace. He brushes away your tears with his thumb, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I hate seeing you in pain," he admits softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I wish I could take it all away."
You nestle closer to him, finding solace in his embrace. "It's not your fault," you reassure him, your voice muffled against his chest. "I know you'd do anything to make me feel better."
Jisung's arms tighten around you, his love evident in every gesture.
"I was so scared," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "When you didn't remember my name or my face," he begins, his words carrying the weight of vulnerability, "it felt like my world was falling apart. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, of having you look at me as if I were a stranger."
Your heart aches at his confession, realizing the depth of his fears. "I could never forget you, Jisung," you assure him, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "You mean everything to me."
A soft smile tugs at Jisung's lips, his eyes reflecting the love and adoration he holds for you. "Knowing that means more to me than you'll ever know," he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. "I love you more than words can express." he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "I'm sorry you're in pain. I'd rather it be me than you."
You lean into his touch. "You're my everything, Jisung," you whisper, your face close to his. "And I wouldn't want to go through this with anyone else by my side."
As you lean into his embrace, you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. And as he lulls you to sleep with soft murmurs and gentle caresses, you drift off into dreams, knowing that no matter what, you'll always have Jisung there to hold you and kiss the pain away.
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·˚ᑉ³ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Thank you for your support | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like. © Valkyrieeeee 2024
81 notes · View notes
mediumgayitalian · 2 days
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fic rec friday 11
hi!! welcome to fic rec friday (i know it's tuesday that's my bad 💀). every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!
and if you're warm, then you can't relate to me by remrose
They get stuck outside from a 3AM fire alarm. “I call it the ten-pound-quilt.” Will winked like it was a secret, coming to a stop in front of Nico. “I lent it to one of my siblings once and he said it was like being suffocated by a wet cement pancake. I love it."
will 'problem causer and embarrassed about it' solace so so real. this fic is also stellar bc nico is lowkey aware how much will likes him. that is how the dynamic should be i think.
2. Those walls I built didn't even put up a fight by @sazandorable
"Is it morally okay to stab a medic with their own scissors?" Nico asked Cecil. (Not that he usually cared about morally okay, as Octavian might demonstrate.) Nico's three days in the infirmary go by faster than he'd thought, and Will just won't stop flirting.
bruh this fic made me LAUGH. it wholly deserves the nearly quarter million hits it has jfc. i 100% clicked for the 'jason is a very embarrassing and very supportive ally' tag and it TOTALLY lived up and it was hilarious. he is. will's characterization was SO SO good and the whole fic just had me giggling!!
3. this is my kingdom come by remrose
Five times Nico and Will pretended they were dating. College AU.
the slow and unnoticeable slide from fake dating to real dating. fucking kills me every time. like oh yeah maybe i do love you. maybe you are everything to me. maybe i do want to spend the rest of my life with you. maybe loving you is this easy. GOD. god. insert seinfield gif her bc it fucking gets to me alright. it gets to me.
4. Days Gone By by @ghostystarr
Everyone was afraid of him, the boy who could talk to ghosts. Will just really wanted to know if his goldfish was haunting him every time he used the bathroom. AU Solangelo.
i am a sucker for childhood friends to lovers alright. and modern au with medium nico is art. so what if it is on the nose. it is amusing. and posting this ghosty ass fic on halloween the year solangelo came out is fucking camp idc this author ate up.
5. Patience and Patients by skyrat
Will Solace didn't mean to get a crush on the most exasperating demigod he'd ever met. But once he started watching Nico di Angelo he couldn't turn away. The lines between intentions and feelings got blurred. But how do you tell if the guy you like feels the same way when he's never around?
will having a crush on nico for a thousand years is literally my favourite trope like i love him actually. his pining ass will never get old! it will never get old. i will never get tired of reading it. also this is unrelated but i read this for the first time the day it was posting, which was the Day after i turned twelve lol time truly flies.
thank you for joining me this saturday tuesday sh don't worry about the actual date friday!! happy reading!!
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dixons-sunshine · 6 hours
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Cleansing The Mind, The Soul And The Body | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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*GIF credits to @reedusmcbridedaily.*
Summary: Getting Daryl to take a shower or a bath when he wasn't in the mood was never easy. It took a lot of skillful convincing and even some bribery. Luckily, as his wife, all it took was a batting of your eyelashes and he was putty in your hands—and you took this to your advantage.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Alexandria; post Saviour arc, pre the building of the bridge.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of past abuse, Daryl's scars.
Word count: 1.6k
A/n: A fic born from this idea by @louifaith. Hope you like this! This was originally supposed to be a 500 word blurb but I got carried away lol.
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
The sun was almost completely gone from the sky. The first stars of the night sky were twinkling brightly outside the window of the bathroom in your shared home with Daryl, and the calming, cool breeze was flowing in through the slightly open window. The water was starting to fill up the bathtub, and you meticulously added just enough bubble bath liquid you had found on a run a few weeks prior.
Behind you, Daryl was reluctantly slowly undressing himself, carelessly tossing his shirt into the laundry hamper. He was grumbling to himself under his breath, making you laugh lightly.
“Whatever you want to say, you can say it to my face, Dixon,” you joked, turning the faucet off and turning around to face your half naked husband.
Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Nothin',” he answered, slowly stepping out of his jeans and boxers and walking over to the bathtub and settling into the bubbly water. “Let's just get this fuckin' over with already.”
You chuckled affectionately, settling onto your knees beside the bathtub and bringing a hand up to brush through his hair. Even though the archer didn't admit it, the warm water of the bathtub was soothing the aches in his body. And your soft hand gently threading through his hair had him practically melting into the water. Despite originally being against the idea of having you bathe him, insisting that he wasn't a little kid and he didn't need someone cleaning him, if he was already so content with just your hand in his hair, he didn't even want to know how relaxed he'd feel if you were to gently wash him.
Daryl subconsciously leaned into your touch and let out a small, content sigh, eliciting a light laugh from you. “Relaxed? I thought you didn't want this. Didn't you say that you "didn't need to be babied" and that "this would be a waste of time"?”
Daryl grumbled under his breath, lightly swatting your hand away. “Shut up,” he mumbled, trying to hide how his lips twitched up into a smile.
You giggled and leaned over the bathtub, catching his lips for a quick, tender kiss, before pulling away again. “Okay, handsome. What first? Body or hair?”
“Hair,” Daryl replied slowly, suddenly feeling hyper aware of the fact that he was naked and vulnerable in front of your eyes.
You nodded and carefully got to work on his hair, wetting it and carefully applying shampoo, working it into his hair while lightly scratching his scalp. “I love your hair. Long hair really suits you.”
“Yeah?” he asked, looking at you.
“Yeah. It compliments your features perfectly. I love it.”
Daryl closed his eyes and basked in the caring, loving moment. However, he couldn't help the nervousness that creeped up on him. The scars on his body were on full display, but luckily the ones on his back were hidden from your view for now. He chastised himself for feeling so insecure about his scars—you were his partner for two years before you became his wife a couple of months prior, and a loyal companion and friend for two years before that, dating all the way back to the quarry. You were well aware of his scars and about his father's abuse, and always worshipped him and reassured him that his scars were nothing to be ashamed of, but that didn't stop his insecurity from creeping up from time to time.
And what should've been a loving, tender moment could potentially be ruined by his insecurity.
While applying the conditioner to his hair, you noticed his now opened eyes staring ahead at the wall, his eyebrows furrowed together as he subconsciously crossed his arms over his chest, right over his scars. You instantly knew what was going through his mind, and you took it on yourself to lift his spirits.
You gently cupped his cheek with one of your hands, prompting him to look at you. His beautiful, ocean coloured eyes locked with your eyes, and you could clearly see the turmoil within their beautiful depths. It made your heart ache to know that someone caused the man you loved so much harm. If his father was still alive, Daryl wouldn't have had to worry about a confrontation with him. No, you would've given the man a taste of his own cruel medicine and after that, you would've killed him.
“Baby,” you whispered softly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
Daryl could feel a blush creep up onto his cheeks. He scoffed and ducked his head, letting his wet hair fall in front of his eyes. “Stop,” he mumbled, but he couldn't help the small smile that crept up onto his face.
You giggled and tucked his hair behind his ears. “You are! You're so beautiful, Daryl. I can't believe how lucky I got with you. I won't be surprised if every woman here has a crush on you. Well, except Tara, but other than her...”
“Nah,” he denied and shook his head in disagreement. “Ain't no woman who would give me the time of day 'cept ya. 'Sides, even if there were, I ain't need no other woman. I already have the perfect one.”
You smiled and leaned over for another kiss, this one lasting longer than the previous one. You pulled back with a soft laugh, admiring the man who you'd come to love above everything else.
“And you swear on your life that you're not a romantic. That last line was smooth, Dixon,” you mused, grabbing the soap bar that smelled like lavender and turned back to the archer. “Is this okay?” you asked, motioning to his body.
Daryl's heart swelled at your thoughtfulness. You never wanted to do something that would make him uncomfortable, and he appreciated you for that. Nobody understood him quite like you did.
“Yeah, s'fine,” he replied with a nod, pushing that nagging voice in the back of his mind away. You loved him, every part of him. If you didn't, you would've run for the hills a long time ago. You weren't freaked out by his scars. You loved him for him, scars and all, and he'd be damned if he let his self deprecating thoughts ruin a good, loving moment.
The two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few minutes while you continued to wash his body. However, when he slowly sat forward so that you could wash his back, you broke the serene silence with your loving, soft whispers.
“You're so strong, Dar,” you whispered, gently tracing your soapy fingers over his scars. An involuntary shiver traveled across Daryl's spine, eliciting a small giggle from you. “You're a warrior. You've been fighting to live the life you deserve even before the dead started rising. You've been surviving for far longer than most of us. That makes you so fucking brave, baby. And I know you don't feel like it, but you deserved to be loved, and you are loved. Rick loves you. Michonne loves you. Carol, Maggie, Rosita, Aaron, all of them. But I can assure you, nobody loves you as much as I do. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. I'd die for you. I'd kill for you. I'd do anything for you.”
Daryl inhaled sharply. He swallowed hard, willing the lump in his throat to go away. Hearing that from you was exactly what he needed in that moment. He knew it would be a long journey for him until he actually believed he was worthy of love, worthy of your love, but with you by his side, he knew he'd get there eventually.
“I love ya,” he whispered, staring into your eyes to let you know he meant it. He truly did love you. Nothing could ever change that.
“I love you too,” you answered with a smile, gently rinsing the soap from his back before grabbing the handheld showerhead and instructing him to lean his head back. You carefully rinsed the conditioner from his hair, bringing an end to the bath time.
You grabbed a towel and shook it out, using it to dry your husband. He looked at you in amusement but allowed you to do so, not-so-secretly enjoying the attention you were giving him. You then grabbed the fresh pair of boxers and handed it to him, as well as a pair of flannel pants. He got dressed in them and turned back at you.
“Lift your arms,” you instructed, watching the man lift an eyebrow at you but complying nonetheless. You helped him slip his shirt on, and after he was dressed, you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his clothed chest.
Daryl wasted no time in returning the hug. He tightly wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his chin there. He gently rocked you from side to side.
“Dar?” you whispered, catching his attention.
“Hm?”
“Do you wanna cuddle?”
“Mhm.”
“You wanna be the little spoon?” you asked, giggling as Daryl's arms tightened around you. You already knew what the answer was without him having to say anything. “C'mon. Let's go to bed, handsome.”
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