#but never outright made it clear how much he loves them through words | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kairiscorner · 9 months

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i just want what's best for you. — miles 1610 x reader

summary: no matter how much miles may love you, you still have to get through his mom for you two to be together. first impressions didn't go so well, and now... now you're starting to think she's right about you. but somehow, you both come to an understanding, and... eventually, an understanding can be made between you two. pairing: miles 1610 x gn!reader genre: slight angst + comfort word count: 2,045 request: Could you do a miles (42 or 1610 or both) x reader where his mom isn’t to fond of her but, it’s only because she doesn’t want to see him get hurt. And reader considers breaking up with him and his mom overhears and feels bad. a/n: hello lovely anon !! omg this was really fun to do ngl, I WILL BE SO CRUSHED IF THIS GETS FLOPPED RGHHHHH i will cry bUT ANYWAY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS, AND SORRY FOR THE CRAPPY SPANISH AND PROBABLY OOC RIO, I'M SORRY, I TRIED...........

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

meeting your partners' parents is never easy; it can be fun, if their parents take a liking to you and are amicable--maybe if they see you as family already for them, then you've hit the jackpot. though, in your case, you couldn't be any worse off than that. you did a few things that miles' parents didn't approve of, a few things that didn't settle right with them or made them slightly cautious about you. be it due to how you look, your lifestyle, your manner of speech and nonchalance around them, how you try a little too hard or not enough to get on their good sides--whatever it was, it didn't make them entirely fond of nor trust you, especially with the fact that you were dating their son and they have made it very clear to him: "no dating until you're 25".

they eventually gave in to miles' persuasion that he was 'old enough' to be dating, to be asking you out and going out with you, and being able to spend time with you without having to hide from his parents where he's been and what he's been doing. his father had to vouch for him, after he made miles swear he and you wouldn't be doing anything stupid nor hide anything from them, and though he trusts miles... he has little faith in you, seeing as how you two hardly speak and only exchange nods, glances, and greetings whenever you're around at miles' place. jeff isn't much of a problem for you, though, he's since accepted that his son loves you and that he wants to be with you--but miles' mom, rio, still hasn't come around to that fact.

in complete honesty... every time rio looks at you, you feel like she's glaring at you, staring you down, sometimes outright judging you in her head. miles swears she doesn't mean anything bad with how she looks at you nor how she speaks, even though she may sound dismissive around you. you try to believe miles, even though it does sometimes come off that rio wants nothing between you and her son. but that whole blind fantasy came crashing down around you during dinner one night when rio confronted miles passive-aggressively and a bit subtly on why his grades seemed to be going down and why some nights, he's out of his room when she comes in.

you were going to speak to miles in the kitchen, ask him if he'd like to watch a movie tonight in his room since you two hardly have time for each other these days, but you stopped in your tracks when you heard rio and miles' voices in the kitchen, sounding as if they were arguing over something. you crept close to the doorway, knowing that eavesdropping on their private conversation was wrong, but you wouldn't have stayed if you just didn't hear rio utter your name, followed by: "i don't even know why you picked them, but mijo, i... i have no reason to believe they're not the reason why you're so distracted these days. don't you think that, maybe... they're a bad influence on you?"

a cold stinging feeling shot up your body and spine as you heard rio talk about you like that, with your eyes widening as you realized what she just proposed to miles: she thinks you're a bad influence on her son. miles defended you, however, claiming that he hasn't even been able to see you for days at a time, that you're busy with personal stuff and school--that you aren't a bad influence on him, none of this is your fault. rio tried to hear miles out, but none of it was computing to her; in her eyes, her son was a good boy who couldn't do anything to disappoint her, maybe do a few wrongs here and there, but he'd never let something like a bad performance at school progress, and he would especially quit sneaking out at night after the first few times, right?

"mom, i'm telling you, they're not involved with anything bad, i'm not involved in anything bad! i just... look, i'm..." miles stuttered as he tried to explain to his mother all these anomalous occurrences and his behavior recently, and due to this hesitation, rio's resolve to pin the blame on you had only gotten worse. "mijo, look at me. please, just... tell your mom the truth. i don't want you to get hurt, to jeopardize yourself and your well-being all for some... person you like. what is it you're doing that's distracting you? is it them? it's gotta be them, otherwise you wouldn't–miles! aún no he terminado de hablar, jovencito, vuelve aquí!" rio called after her son as miles had enough and ran off out of the kitchen, feeling frustrated that his own mother couldn't even believe him that neither of you were up to anything bad. if he lied again, she'd be pissed; and if he told her the truth, she'd be even more pissed, it was a lose-lose scenario for him that had no good solution. at least... not one he'd like.

you crept up the stairs and knocked on miles' door, calling out to him in a soft voice. miles opened the door a crack, and once he verified it was indeed you, he opened the door wider and faced you properly. before you could get a word out, he immediately wrapped you in a big hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "man, babe, i'm... oh, am i glad to see you..." he whispered as you hugged him back, a little saddened at what you were about to tell him, about to do to him.

miles pulled away eventually and welcomed you into his room, closing the door behind you two as you he told you could sit down by his bed, as usual. you hesitantly sat down next to him, tensing up a little as you took your seat on his plush bed. he looked over at you with concern tinting his eyes; he reached out for you as you looked down to the floor, away from him. "hey, babe... what's wrong? did i do something, did something... happen?" he asked you as he brushed away the stray hairs on your forehead as you looked at him with sadness filling your frame. you breathed a sigh of reluctance as you fidgeted with your fingers, feeling that if you did this, you'd be doing him and his parents a favor--but on the other hand, you'd be crushing him to bits.

you took in a deep breath and finally exhaled after holding it in for a bit as you gazed back at him, with miles looking at you so anxiously and murmuring if you were alright, if he could do anything to help, but... this was all that could be done now. "miles... you can't be dating me anymore. i'm sorry, it's... my fault." you said in a quieted voice, though the way you said it sounded very vague, miles still felt incredibly crushed and confused by what you meant that 'it was your fault'.

a look of hurt dashed his face as he brought his hand upon yours and reassured you that, no, whatever you meant, it couldn't have been your fault. he tried to comfort you and help you realize that whatever was going on between you two, he'd make up for it. "is it... is it because we aren't able to, y'know, to... be together all the time? is that it...?" he asked you nervously as you shook your head, still looking away from him. miles heaved a little as he tried to calm himself down, rationalize first what could've been the reason why you wanted to suddenly break up with him after he just defended you in front of his mother without you knowing... or... or did you?

how could you explain to miles that a breakup isn't something you wanted, but felt was best for... well, not for you two, but for his parents to quit getting on his case? you didn't hate his parents, not one bit, you understood their concerns if you were in their shoes–but you didn't know what else to do, you couldn't stand seeing miles get chewed out by his own mother for your sake. you sighed as you tried to hold back your tears, as your throat flared up as you kept your sob in and shook your head. "it has nothing to do with you, miles. like i said, it's... it's my fault. i'm sorry, look, i don't... i don't think i'm good enough for you." you tried telling him without breaking down right then and there as miles kept getting his heart pierced in every which way with every word you uttered.

miles tried to understand, but most of all, he kept rambling to you how you both could make it work, he'll be there–it isn't... whatever happened between you two, it isn't your fault. miles teared up a little as he kept holding on to your hand, but his tears finally fell when you let go of his hand and got up to leave. "wait, love–!" he called out for you as you opened the door and, surprise-surprise, his mother was there by the door, listening in on you two with a sad expression.

you yelped when you saw her, with her yelping as well–miles yelped at the both of you yelping, and rio had to tell you both to calm down... no one need to break up with anybody. "i came to say that... that i'm sorry, mijo, and... i'm sorry i've been so cold to you." she said as she looked at you with guilt and remorse in her eyes and tone. she sighed as she leaned against the doorway and looked away from the two of you.

"i don't hate you, i'm just... scared, is all. i'm worried you won't love my boy as much as you say you can, because... i can't control either of you, i can't know what you both do at all times, especially you, miles." she said as she pointed at miles, with miles looking at her with a confused gaze. rio sighed again as she walked over to you and looked up at your eyes, placing her hand on your chin to get you to look at her square in the face.

"i'm sorry if i made it seem like... it was your fault my son hasn't been honest with me–" she said as she shot miles an angry look, "–but you have no fault in this. i'm sorry, just, mother instincts got out of hand." she apologized as you smiled and nodded. "it's okay, mrs. morales..." you said as she smiled. "you know, i kinda like you a little better now. 'mrs. morales', finally..." she said with a smile as you chuckled, with rio telling miles he can still be with you and go out with you if he promises never to sneak out anymore and to get those grades back up.

miles nodded as he told his mom he has to talk to you, alone. "okay, but no locked doors–" "yeah, yeah, got it mom!" miles called out from behind the door as he closed it on her. you rubbed the back of your neck as miles looked down at the ground, the both of you feeling really awkward but pretty relieved at the same time with how that 'breakup' between you two was very short lived.

miles cleared his throat as he began to speak, but you rushed up and hugged him, murmuring how glad you are that you didn't have to leave him. miles reciprocated your hug and whispered back to you he'd never let anybody–not even his own parents–get in the way of him loving you dearly. he was just glad his mom, though very slowly–started to realize you weren't a distraction to him, but someone he cared about.

he understands all she wants is the best for him, but... maybe now was the time he decided what was best for him on his own, and that'd be with you by his side, letting him love you wholeheartedly.

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @fiannee @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless

#earth 1610 miles morales #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #earth 1610 miles morales x you #earth 1610 miles morales x y/n #atsv #atsv miles #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #atsv imagines #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles #earth 1610 miles x reader #e1610 miles #e1610 miles x reader

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starrvsn · 3 months

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` ִ ꔫ ۫ ⊹ D.HUME ࣪ ˖ TWO HALVES OF ONE HEART.

﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚

PART 02 OF HEART AND MIND! READ PART 01 HERE.

PAIRING ⠆don hume x fem!reader.

WORD COUNT ⠆3,756 (well spent!)

ON ROTATION ⠆cheek to cheek by frank sinatra, head over heels by tears for fears, my heart it beats for you by grent perez, how deep is your love by bee gees.

CATEGORIES ⠆very fluffy!!! a long awaited lovers reunion!!!! the boys on crew being the biggest supporters as always, joyce being lovely, very comforting. loved how it came out... though i feel like it kinda dragged but i digress.

𝟒𝟏𝟏. a much needed reunion between two lovers.

you don’t think you’ve ever seen lake washington look so alive, there were swarms of crowds surrounding the lake. the day was sunny and bright with a slight wind whistling through the air.

full of supporters and spectators from both cal and washington alone. your heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness as you followed followed your parents through the crowd but ultimately separating from them as you made your way to the viewing deck. the thought of seeing don again— being in his presence again made you so excited yet so nervous. you were elated he made the JV rowing team, knowing how effortlessly he knew how to do things; basically being good at anything. you had a fairly good spot over looking the water; not realizing it’s a student only viewing deck (did those even exist..). you looked for a spot not to close to the front in case don ends up seeing you, you didn’t want to throw him off from their first race of the season. as you were getting settled in your spot you accidentally bump into someone.

“oh! i am so sorry!” you apologize, pushing your hair away from crowding your face as you watch the girl in front of you stumble a bit.

“no! no it’s totally okay.” a blonde with short hair instantly assures, noticing as her eyes scanning over you.“i don’t think i’ve ever seen you around school before.” she adds, you found it bit odd she would say such a thing.

“ i don’t actually go here.” you affirmed, clearing your throat a bit. still confused on her sudden interrogation, she nods. taking in the newfound information before continuing.

“where do you attend?” you hesitate, suddenly noticing how everyone on the deck had UW flags and you didn’t have that, instead a berkeley flag that someone had given you after recognizing you from school. if she had seen the flag tucked behind you it would’ve given you away immediately.

“cal.” a slight cough out of the school name; there was no way in lying to her, suddenly feeling small amongst the groups of UW students. the short haired girl piques at your response “cal as in cal state berkeley— the rowing team the boys are going against?” you nod for her in clarification “how come you’re rooting for the opposite team?” fully facing you now. before you can tell her your reason she interrupts saying how rude it was for her to bombard you without asking your name, you weren’t offend at all and introduced yourself instantly as she does the same immediately after.

“my boyfriend is on the team actually.” you felt awkward telling her but also relieved, you don’t remember the last time you outright told anyone you had a boyfriend. ”oh really! who?” it crosses in joyce’s mind that it could be joe but she knows joe would never keep something like this from her and there was a massively rare chance it would be him so her mind briefs through the rest of the roaster. though she only knew their faces and not their names.

“don, don hume. you know him?” joyce ponders for a bit, the name sounding very familiar.

“i think joe mentioned him before…” you assume ‘joe’ is on the rowing team with don, further assuming she was here to root for joe but would’t say that of course… insisting she’s here rooting for everyone, not just joe.

“its okay, he’s not much of a talker anyways.” laughing it off, don wasn’t someone to put himself in the lime light, finding comfort alone or with you. a part of you hoping he’s getting along well with his teammates as he isnt the easiest to get along with because of how reserved he could be… you just want him to be happy.

“does he know you’re here?” you shake your head in response but mention to her that you sent him a letter recently entailing that you were coming over to visit but it was safe to assume he hadn;t gotten it since he hadn’t called (knowing he only calls when he needs to respond immediately). an idea suddenly sparks in your new friends mind. she tells you there is supposed to be a party if the huskies win and she insists you surprise him then, it was such a spur of the moment proposition you accepted. she squeals excitedly, grasping your arm. she was so happy to meet someone new who wasn’t from washington, excited to make your acquaintance as she stays close to you, cheering on the boys.

the race was nothing short of a spectacle, no one was sure that the huskies would win but they had defied odds and won with an astounding outcome. you see dons face as their boat pushes to the finish line, time seems to slow when your eyes land on him. his hair is shorter and face slimmer from the last time you saw him, your heart swells seeing him so happy from winning, splashing the water and celebrating with the rest of the team. you don’t think you’ve seen anything more attractive, his muscles taught and defined in that fitting uniform he wore. a faint blush creeps up you neck as you watch his muscles flex under the sunlight, you couldn’t wait to be with him again, talk to him, be in his arms again. you eyes don’t leave him until joyce drags you away from the your spot, immediately talking your ear off about how well they did on the way to her dorm. don lingering in your mind the whole way.

the hall was loud and in high spirits after the win of the JV rowing team, don watches as george walks off hand and hand with a pretty brunette. sitting alone as the other guys sit in the paired tables in front of him, having their own conversations. don didn’t mind to be alone or away from the group; it would probably be expected of him to go off and talk to others but he really isn’t much of a talker and preferred to observe the scenes in front of him. he didn’t need to be apart of the fun to have fun- he was content knowing the guys were having a good time. it did get lonely at times though the guys kept him company and included him in conversation for a part but his mind kept lingering at the thought of you; being here with him— having fun of your own if you were here. he’s been thinking about you more lately, missing you more than he usually did. it was rough the first few months but he eventually got used to the fact that you weren’t around anymore and he had to carry on with his own life. its not to say he didn’t think of you at all; you were the muse of his dreams and he’d think about how you were sometimes and at times where he’s out, he’d something that reminds him of you. most of all, the jewelry you gifted him. he’d fidget with his ring and he’d think of you. ever since the night he told roger and bobby about you it feels like he’s back a year ago when you freshly left for california feeling incomplete without you, unbeknownst to when you’d retuen, wondering if you got his letter or if you wrote back to him.

your heart pounds in your chest as you walk with joyce towards the hall, her arm laced with yours. your heart races, full of emotion. memories of when you last saw don flooding your mind, you couldn’t wait to see him. you were nervous he wasn’t going to recognize you, it had been a year since you saw him and you weren’t sure if you look the same you did when you left, what if he didn’t feel the same way anymore after seeing you? what if he regrets waiting for you after a year of being apart? what if— as if she could sense your overwhelming nerves, joyce immediately assures you— insisting that don is gonna be elated to see you, especially after a big win. what worried you was the fact that you had sent him a letter, unveiling your news that you were coming up to washington. you were unsure if he’s received it yet and it drags your heart at the thought of him reading the letter and not caring; content with having a life of his own away from you. he would he awaiting your arrival wouldn’t he? looking for you. but there was no news up the grapevine about him from the passing hours as you got ready in joyce’s dorm but if you didn’t find out for yourself you’d never know. you can hear the music grow louder as you get closer, excitement bubbles as joyce squeals skipping towards the hall with you in tow, already feeling the warmth from the hall.

at the doorway is a tall blonde with his eyes fixed on your short haired friend, you look at her and see a faint flush on her cheeks. unlocking your arms she walks a few steps ahead greeting the man with a hug. standing a bit awkwardly before them as they speak, a mere moment later she turns around gesturing you over. from there you meet joe, the man she mentioned earlier during your first interaction. she introduces you fondly as a new friend, locking arms as she leans against you. she continues to tell joe how you’re visiting from california and she’s love to introduce you to the boys. joe has a hesitant look on his face, as much as he wasn’t opposed to the idea, he knew the boys would eat up a pretty face like yours without the slightest bit of hesitation. he wasn’t convinced from her persuasion but the look she gives him? how could he say no to her? heaving a small sigh, the blonde nods. further exchanging pleasantries as he tries to get to know you a bit better before gesturing for the two of you to walk inside, him following behind. you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and nervousness as you walk into the bustling room, eyes instinctively scanning for don. your heart skips a beat when you finally spot him, sitting alone at a table. he looks even more handsome than you remember, you’ve never seen him in a suit before and he looks better than you could ever imagine. breath catching in your throat as you realize this is actually happening, the man you've missed so dearly, the one you've been yearning for since you moved to california. you’re so close to being in his arms again, in his presence again. before you can take in more of the lively atmosphere, joyce is dragging you to the refreshment table. you weren’t sure what she had in mind, she hadn’t told you anything beforehand and you were dying to know. she guiltily admits to you how unsure she is about her plan, though there wasn’t much to it in the first place. you immediately reassure her that whatever happens, you appreciate her effort, without her your surprise reunion with your lover could have gone completely differently.

don doesn’t know why or how but he feels as if you’re here, somewhere (his spidey senses are tingling) especially when joe had them gathered so closely, being sandwiched between roger and bobby as they all ask whats going on. joe casually relays that joyce had someone she wanted to introduce to them, making the advanced effort to note that the person is a girl. the group suddenly becomes boisterous and are quick to fix their suits and appearances. don has half the mind to entertain the thought the the person is you, though he thinks you would come straight to him if that were the case, so he makes himself comfortable sat down with his hands in his pockets awaiting their new guest- ready to watch what’s to come.

your heart flutters with nerves, as joyce tries are best to calm you down. there was only so much she could stall and soon joe approaches the two of you stating how impatient and restless the guys were, your mind is in a frenzy now trying to imagine how seeing him again will be, what you’ll say, how he’ll react. it overwhelmed you so, wringing hands and deep breaths as you gather yourself. it was now or never.

you pass through the throng of people, the atmosphere is charged with an electric energy, a complete contrast of the feelings that consumed you as joyce holds your hand comfortingly through the crows. joe walks ahead, gathering the boys as you approach them. trying your best to hide behind the small frame of joyce. for a moment don thinks he’s right, eyeing the girl standing behind joe’s girlfriend, as the boys stand ready to impressed. he also thinks he’s become delusional drowning in the thought of you— he can’t see the person well but with her frame peaking from joyce it makes him think its you, he tries to deny the thought in his head— trying to not physical head palm himself at such a stretch.

clearing her throat, joyce speaks “i made a friend from california and i just wanted to introduce her to the team that beat hers.” a small wave in her voice, seeingas don snaps his attention to her as she silently hopes she does this right. her words cause an immediate stir in the boys, ready to impress with their chests puffed. roger and bobby immediately share a look before looking down at their friend who’s now sat upright and at attention.

it can’t be…

you feel your hands tremor and a slight ring in your ears as your friend speaks but you can’t help the surge of adrenaline that runs through you knowing at any moment you will be face to face with your lover.

you feel a tug on your hand and soon enough you’re faced in front of your boyfriend among a sea of unfamiliar faces.

“this is y/n.”

before any of the boys can approach you, the sound of a chair screeching against the wood floor causes a pause through the group. turning their attention they see don stood up, eyes wide. all at once it feels as if time begins to slow, you’re stood before him looking beautiful as ever, like an angel sent from heaven. he feels like he’s dreaming— as if at any given moment he’ll be woken up from a painfully realistic dream. it isn’t until he feels a pat on his back, he breaks his gaze. looking over at roger who whispers a ‘lucky man’ with a giddy smile on his face. bobby and roger pass you last, having a small conversation with you telling you how you have a good eye for jewelry and realization on that you’re actually real, the locket on your neck further proving that. the group moves else where but close enough to see the lovers reunite.

his gaze is back on you, unbelieving the sight before him, you’re actually here— standing in front of you him with a wide smile on your face. you slowly walk towards him, meeting him until your inches apart. your hands comfortingly grasping his hands, thumb grazing his ring. you eyes take in his features that matured from the time you were away, he does the same drinking in the sight of you— guess his feeling wasn’t wrong. you were afraid he wouldn’t recognize you or look at you the same the same way he did before but the loving gaze is still strong through his iris’

"you're quiet. do i look bad?" trying to break the ice, words unsaid whilst you took in the sights of each other. you missed him more than you can recount, now that he’s in your hands again you cannot imagine being apart now.

"no. no, god, no.” shaking his head, gathering himself ”you left me speechless. in a good way, of course." (prompt from @novelbear) he would have never thought you could leave him speechless in a way you did now, looking breathtaking under the warm lighting of the hall, a soft laugh leaving you before giving his hands a gentle squeeze. your nerves dissipates into comfort as you look at him, a sudden wave of emotions coming over you. tears wake at your waterline and chin trembling as you look at your lover, your hand moving to his cheek caressing it gently— all your worries and doubts disappearing, grateful to whatever being upon the universe that brought you together again. don immediately noticing your change of emotion and he pulls you into a tight but comforting hug. the rest of the world fades away as you share that familiar embrace, the connection you once thought lost rekindling in an instant. your arms tightly around his neck, as his rest on your waist and a hand soothing at your back. he tries his best to hold back tears of his own as you softly sob into his blazer jumbled out “i missed yous” between hiccups and sniffles, he softly hushes you, comforting you the best way he can as he tries to keep it together but all at the same time reciprocating the same words to you like a soft lullaby letting your crying subside. you part from the crook of his neck, eyes puffy and tear stricken cheeks. staring down sheepishly at your sudden outburst. don takes it with open arms, grasping your face as he wipes the tears away and tucks fallen hairs from your face. so glad to have you back in his arms again.

“so, were you surprised?” you ask, straightening yourself up acting as if nothing happened— brushing your hair to your back as your hands go to fix his blazer, hand lovingly gracing his tie, evening the two pieces together. he looks at you with a crooked smile—

“surprised? honey you blew me away.” mimicking the way someone would be blown away from strong wind. his effort of making you laugh fruitful, as you giggle with hand coming to cover your mouth.

“but seriously, i’ve missed you so much. there wasn’t a day where i didn’t think of you, you’re the reason i tried out for the team..” his words coming out soft and sincere, standing close to you again. your heart swelled at his words, looking up at him with loving eyes. all while finding the words to describe how much you missed him.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about you when i was in cal, adjusting to the school was difficult; i felt like it would’ve been so much easier if you were there with me… i struggled so much but eventually i fell into a routine that felt empty because you weren’t in it. that’s why i came up to visit you; i didn’t mean for it to be a surprise— i wrote to you about it but judging by your reaction you haven’t received it yet.” don processes your words, thinking how the week has been so busy that he hadn’t had the time to go to the mail room to check for any response from you. you can see in his eyes a shade of guilt swirling through them, comfortingly you run a hand over his chest. grounding him. “but regardless, surprise or not. i’m happy to be with you again and to see you win.” you gleam, now filled with pride, squeezing his bicep gently. don flushes at the thought of you watching him win, in such tight and little clothing as well. you tease him about how much fitter he’s gotten and how he must give you a personal lesson on rowing soon. cooing at his flushed cheeks with proud words of praise as he thinks of taking you on a boat ride before you leave, when you leave.

“how long are you staying?” his face falling a bit but you lighten up.

“well… if you read my letter you’d know i’m transferring here as of next semester.” you say proudly, biting at your lip as you await his reaction. you watch as he tilts his head, a breathless chuckle of disbelief leaving him. then suddenly he wraps his arms around you, twirling you in his grasp making you squeal in surprise. he puts you down before pressing his lips to yours before you can catch your breath, chaste and content but relayed feelings and emotions not expressed through words said.

“you’re not joking right?” praying this wasn’t just some sick joke you were playing to get a rouse out of him, you wouldn’t do that to him right? the moment you shake your head no as a massive smile graces your face, he swears he’s never been happier. nothing could damper his mood, not even the words you said next.

“i’m staying for 2 more weeks starting today before i leave back to cal. but we’ll only be apart for a few more months before the semester starts again.”

he was elated at the news, once again pulling you into a content embrace telling you a few months was nothing. it was only a few months, if he could get through a year he could get pass a few months.

well, he better make the most of the two weeks then.

the rest of the night plays in a high note as you and don join the rest of the group, them getting to know the lover don had been hiding from them. bobby and roger seemingly more interested in the stories you told of don before college, even the most embarrassing ones and eventually convincing him to play a song other than the washington fight song when the party had died down, instead playing the lighthearted tune of cheek to cheek ( the original version was released during the 1930s but feel free to reference the sinatra version :] ) with soft hums of singing along as he plays. he watches as his friends dance on the floor beneath him, ever so often looking at you— watching him from the height of the piano, eyes full of love with your chin resting in your hand. content as ever.

the other half of his heart came back to him and he couldn’t be happier.

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

#the long awaited part two!!!!#im so happy with how this came out #i really hope you all enjoy this as much as i did #(⁠´⁠ー⁠｀⁠) the boys in the boat #the boys in the boat #don hume #the boys in the boat imagines #the boys in the boat fanfiction #don hume imagines #don hume x reader #don hume fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #jack mulhern

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in-a-mountain-pool · 10 months

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Blossoming Over You

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

pronouns: She/her (afab)

rating: Explicit/18+

warnings: NSFW/Minors DNI, 69 position, smut

word count: 4500+

summary: Aemond and his new bride, Lady Y/N Baratheon, steal a moment together alone at their Wedding dinner.

author’s note: The people have spoken! After my poll to celebrate gaining 69 followers (which is now a lovely 100 followers!) there you have it, an Aemond x Reader 69 smut fic. You’re welcome. As always, likes, reblogs, and comments are not a requirement, but always love to come home to. Thanks again to @bottlesandbarricades and @ewanmitchellcrumbs for your lovely encouragement and commentary in my google doc!

Masterlist

The Great Hall was shrouded in the shades of your family's colours, with deep reds and blacks against the golden yellows of the House Baratheon. Not a plate was empty, nor a glass unfilled as the great households of Westeros came together to celebrate the wedding of Prince Aemond Targaryen and his Lady Y/N.

The betrothal had been a long one, starting at the very beginning of the Dance of Dragons on that fateful night at Storm’s End, and after a year of near unending grief and loss, your love was the salve to heal the deep wounds left behind. The Greens had triumphed over your betrothed’s half-sister only 6 months prior, and now was the time to march onward into a time of peace.

The Queen Mother, Alicent Hightower, watched on from afar, taking in the merry celebrations. All of her children were prospering, thank The Seven, and hopefully soon the realm once more. Prince Aemond and his bride had been missing from the party for quite some time, slipping out just after the speeches had ended and their guests had flocked to the dance floor. In amongst the beautiful patterns created by dancers in dresses of the finest silks, she’d watched as he’d lovingly sought her hand and pulled her away to his chambers.

Later that night, out of the corner of her eye, Alicent sees them return hurriedly through a servant's side door. Y/N was hastily straightening her dress and the priceless jewels hung around her neck, her youngest son rose-pink in the face, his usually perfectly tied hair uncharacteristically mussed and knotted. His mother could hardly contain the hearty chuckle that escapes her mouth as she notes the way he scans the room nervously to see if anyone had noticed their absence… Like it hadn’t been the talk of the Red Keep that the young Prince had hardly been able to keep his hands off his little bride since the end of the war. They were head over heels, and after all of the tragedy that had befallen them, no one could find it in their hearts to judge them for it. It was a match made by the Seven indeed.

It was clear in the way that Aemond would gaze at her when they would dine together, the tender way he would cradle and protect her on dragonback, and the way that no matter how beaten and bloodied he had been during the war, he had never so much as raised his voice at her.

Aemond had always been a gentle soul as a child and this shone brightly whenever he was around his betrothed. Whilst her son had never said the words outright to her, not in plain, it was clear to all that there was a deep love between them. A love that would no doubt last the rest of their days. They’d proven it to the Realm already, before wedding bands and great feasts had even been necessary.

Alicent feels a soft nudge on her arm as Helaena leans over to pass her a goblet of wine, raising her eyebrow playfully to gesture at the couple. Her heart swelled as she watched his new wife reach over to brush back the unruly loose strands of his hair from his face, adjusting the strap of his now rather wonky eyepatch with a care that spoke a thousand words.

He never let anyone touch him, especially not his face. But with her, it was different.

An affectionate smile grazes Aemond’s face when Y/N’s hand lingers upon him to stroke at his scarred cheek, his ringed fingers coming up to enclose themselves around her own, bringing her palm to his lips for a sweet kiss.

The Queen laid her hand softly on the top of her Daughters, leaning back into her chair and sighing as the heavy cares of the last year washed away. She knew that when all was said and done, after all of the blood, the horrors and regrets, brighter times were here for her son, and she knew in her heart that they would be here to stay.

By the Gods, would the speeches drag on much longer!?

The week before their wedding had been the longest week in all of recorded time. She was sure of it. There had scarcely been any time to see her betrothed alone, what with all of the wedding planning and the countless rehearsal dinners at the insistence of the King. Aegon had proclaimed that he’d wanted everything to be perfect for his little brother, though Aemond had known better that it was because he’d used your wedding as a convenient excuse for a week filled with feasting and drunken festivities.

You’re sitting politely, half-way through listening to Ser Tyland Lannister’s slurred speech, telling tall tales of his supposed ‘great friendship’ and comradery with the Prince, when you feel a soft warmth spreading upon your thigh. Aemond’s hand had slipped under the table to squeeze at the soft flesh of your inner thigh, stroking small circles and with his thumb.

“I don’t know what’s worse, this speech, or those ice sculptures.” Aemond whispers, his lips tickling the shell of your ear through your hair.

You try not to snort laughing as you take in the look of pure contempt on your husband's face as his gaze falls upon the already dripping ice carvings of Vhagar and the Baratheon Stag, towering above the crowd at the centre of the Great Hall.

To Alicent’s and the Iron Bank’s dismay, Aegon had been adamant that the wedding would be one the greatest celebrations the Realm had ever seen, not only to honour the bravery of his dear brother during the war, but as a show of power over the scattered remains of the Blacks. And ice sculptures in the height of summer in King's Landing to him had seemed positively lavish.

“My darling, are you surprised? Lest you forget, there is a statue of you in the Dragonpit as tall as Brandon’s Wall.” You murmur to him, tongue-in-cheek and drinking your wine to hide your coquettish grin.

“It is simply his way of showing you that he loves you. Aegon is ever so proud.”

Aemond coughs slightly to mask his mirth, squeezing your thigh once more before purring into your ear.

“I, on the other hand, have several ways that I plan to show you my affection tonight... ” His thumb creeps inward, rising further towards your centre through the layers of your wedding dress.

“That is, if Tyland Lannister ever stops to draw breath.”

Your heart races, as you try as hard as you can to focus on the great tapestry at the end of the room opposite you, another exuberant commission of Aegon’s, detailing your husband’s victory over his Uncle at the God’s Eye earlier that year. You bite at your plush bottom lip as Aemond’s hand moves to cup at your sex, a dark chuckle leaving his throat as the hand gripping your goblet wobbles, almost spilling your wine down your front.

“Sweetling, please, it’s rude not to listen.” He drawls, his nose nuzzling at your temple, breathing you in.

When your new Mother-in-law looks over to you with a small furrow in her brow, mouthing to see if you are okay, you shoot a tight smile her way, and a swift kick to her son’s foot under the table. This only serves to make him chuckle even more, his large hand sliding down to squeeze at your knee lovingly, before returning back to the table to take your hand in his.

“... there has not been a finer warrior in all of the Seven Kingdoms, since Aegon the Conqueror himself. To Prince Aemond, and his bride, Lady Y/N Baratheon. May you live long and happy lives, free from war, and with love in abundance!” Slurred Tyland, raising his tankard of ale into the air.

The room exploded into cheers and hear, hears, the band starting to play once more. The sound of rich strings and flutes fill the air as your guests flood onto the dance floor. Aemond’s chair scoots closer to yours, his thigh pressed hotly against yours. He hastily grabs a plate and starts collecting an assortment of your favourite nibbles and treats for you, before placing it down and leaning over to whisper into your ear.

“You will need a full stomach. Take what you like now and we can take the rest with us.”

You look up in quiet surprise, gently biting into a small lemon cake he’d had made for you specially.

“Aemond- but it’s not the bedding ceremony for another three hours. There are speeches to be made, dances to be had-”

Aemond stares Y/N down with an unmistakable gleam of lust in his eye and a playful smirk on his lips. “I’m not talking about that. That will not take place for hours yet… But did you really think I could wait that long before I tasted you again my love?”

He surveys the room, watching the great houses of the realm eating, drinking and dancing, before he stands up suddenly, lacing his hand with yours and pulling you up to his side.

“I’d love to stay and chat with our guests, but I find myself completely enraptured by you… Y/N, come.” Aemond murmurs into your hair.

He walks you forward towards the servants entrance door with a serious look on his face as you slip behind an old tapestry on the wall and into the depths of the castle. You’d used this passage countless times before, the last time when you’d had to make a quick escape after Aemond had brought you to completion upon the steps of the Iron Throne. Aemond knew a lot about the architecture of the old castle, and by the God’s had he made good use of it during your betrothal.

Within a few moments you’re there in his bed chambers, slamming the door behind you and locking the latch, something that had quickly become second nature after Aegon had walked in on you both one too many times before.

Finally. This was the first moment you’d been alone all week, free from prying eyes watching or judging. No more interruptions.

He places the small plate of food on his bedside table, and strides towards you, grabbing your face and devouring your mouth with his lips and tongue. His large hand splays itself on your small waist. A deep sigh escapes your lips as he hikes up the many layers of your wedding dress, cupping at your ass desperately through your smallclothes.

“Aem- Aemond, take care, my dress… we can’t get too carried away-”

“I don’t give a shit about your dress.” He says panting between kisses, backing you up towards the chaise lounge beside the fireplace. “I can’t help myself. I need you. I want you.”

Aemond grabs you by your hips, lifting you to lay you down upon soft pillows with an indisputable urgency, pressing his weight upon you and attacking your neck with fervent kisses and small bites.

“Ah! There’s no time… Please don’t start something you don’t intend to finish, my love.”

With a growl he pushes up your skirts to your waist and hooks his finger into the soaked crotch of your smallclothes, pulling them down to your ankles. “Oh we will finish… just not in the way you might expect.” Aemond says, with an impish smirk and a rather devilish gleam in his eyes.

“I had something else in mind. Something we have never tried before.”

You lean onto your forearms to meet his harsh kisses, a look of intrigue forming on your face. You and Aemond had certainly tried a lot of things. After countless nights ‘researching’ in the library, he had been able to convince you that there was a lot of enjoyment to be had in each other that did not involve the loss of your virtue. It was really the least The Seven could do to turn a blind eye to their pursuit of happiness.

You blush intensely at the perverse grin decorating his cat-like lips as he gently pushes your shoulders back again, biting at your collarbones beneath the collar of your dress, and sucking small love bites along its edge. You struggle to get your words out at his ministrations, your hands clasping at his strong shoulders, still covered in the soft black velvet of his doublet.

“S- something in mind, my love?”

“I can see that your curiosity is getting the better of you, little Doe. I can assure you, you are not the only one who thinks the waiting has been going on just a little too long.”

His voice is husky, dripping in heat and passion. Aemond moves to kneel partially between your thighs, his lilac eye raking over your body.

“I have a thought. A thought I have had in my mind in your presence for some time now. Aegon told me, against my will of course,” he chuckles before continuing, “of a time he and one of his lovers had pleasured each other with their mouths… mutually, and simultaneously.”

You’d taken him in your mouth almost countless times, as he in turn had devoured you. Aemond was insatiable, especially after a battle. The thought of such heady pleasure taking place at the same moment made your centre throb with desire.

Aemond starts to crawl over your body fixing you with a smouldering look. “If we are quick and efficient, as I know we can be, I believe we can subdue ourselves for the next few hours… lest your husband be driven to madness, resorting to cupping his pretty little bride's cunny under the dinner table once again.”

He unlaces the ties of his tight black trousers with deft fingers. “I promise you, I can be very swift if the reward is sweet.”

Wordlessly you push down your bodice as far as you can to release your heaving chest, causing him to growl in contentment.

“My Dragon, the speeches… they commence in a half hour, and my handmaid's have left for the evening. If you mess up my hair-”

A feral laugh leaves his lips as he shifts around and lays on his side, his face level with your middle, swiftly hooking your leg over his shoulder, pressing hot sloppy kisses up the soft skin.

“Fuck your hair! … Though, that is a very convenient piece of information, my Lady. Even more privacy tonight… and even more opportunity.” With a soft kiss to your smouldering core he murmurs against your bare stomach. “I promise to be gentle with you, my love.”

He shifts his hand down to release his length from its confines, his hard cock springing free and flushed against your face. Aemond’s brushing kisses on your thigh creep closer and closer towards your heat.

“And… you wish for me to taste you, Husband?”

Aemond nods his head in a slow deliberate movement whilst stroking himself, his long hair tickling your stomach. “That is what I wish for, and I think you will come to like it.” He whispers, his breaths growing shorter, and his length swelling harder still.

Shyly you reach to take him into your hand, your dainty fingers not even coming close to meeting. Aemond was heavy and silky to the touch, and oh so hot. He was already leaking, your absence in the week leaving him hungry and craving the warmth of your mouth.

With a swift lick to your folds, he ducks his head between your legs and groans against your cunny in a way that has you shaking. “... If you would be so kind, little Doe…”

All you can do is whine softly, as you feast your eyes on the spectacle of a Targaryen prince, your Prince, nestled between your legs and devouring you like a man-starved. Unable to hold back anymore, you press your face forwards, your tongue brushing little kitten licks over the head of his cock. Aemond can scarcely contain the rumbling moan in his chest when your hand comes to join your tongue, eagerly sliding the gathering combination of spit and precum down his shaft.

“Ah- my sweet little one… a little slower if you please. Lest the moment be over too quickly.”

Aemond drawls out breathlessly, his eye squeezing shut in the sheer bliss of your wet warmth, all the while he starts to suck teasingly on your nub. Rough hands slide up to cup and caress the sensitive skin of your thighs, your flushed skin framing his handsome face.

Your face presses forwards, his hips rocking up purposely to slide home into your mouth until your nose is brushing against the soft blonde hairs at his toned navel. Hollowing your cheeks, your needy groans have him twitching inside of you, before he starts to thrust into your willing mouth. His movements are slow and purposeful, dragging his head against your tongue and against the back of your throat with a need impossible to ignore.

“Yes- Yes that’s it. Oh that’s divine. You are divine. Like the very Maiden herself.”

You have to remind yourself to breathe through your nose when he props up your leg with his hand under your knee, plunging two of his long fingers into your tight hole. Aemond crooks his lithe fingers upwards to tease relentlessly at that sensitive patch inside of you that try as you might you could never reach yourself. What you can’t fit in your mouth you grasp at tightly in your small hands, wrapped around the thick base of him now slick with your spit.

When he pulls out to tease your lips with the tip of his manhood, a pathetic high-pitched whine escapes your throat, a pink blush dusting your cheeks and breasts.

“Aem- Aemond… Are you sure The Seven will not condemn us for such- ah- impropriety? Such sin?”

You swear you can feel his sly grin against your cunt and the vibrations of his tremulous dark chuckling against your clit, shooting waves of white heat to the base of your spine.

“The Seven can judge me all they want.” He rasps gazing down at your slick dripping down onto your thigh, a thin line of saliva connecting his shining lips to your slick cunny. “Though I believe, just like you and I, they would find this very enjoyable.”

The thought of The Seven watching you in such a compromising position, the thought of such divine beings coveting the primal pleasure only he could bring you was almost too much to bear, only serving to add more fuel to the building fire inside of you.

You continue to work his length with your hand, curling your wrist to stroke the head of his cock with your palm before sliding straight down to the base. You duck down to suck at the sensitive skin of his stones, which seemed to only tighten at the very sensation of your plush lips and the warm breaths blowing out as you speak.

“That is blasphemy my Prince… but such blasphemous ecstasy is it not?”

You let out a gasping moan as he adds yet another finger into your swollen heat, licking up your folds and slurping at your sweet release.

“I might- oh- I might be willing to suffer the consequences of such sacrilege… if it means even the slightest possibility of tasting such sweet nectar once again.” Aemond pants out, gripping your thighs in a vice-like grip and pressing forward to lap up the slick gathered at your puckered hole, before diving down to slide his tongue into your cunt.

The sounds of wetness and lewd sucking and slurping fill the room in a manner so intoxicating that you can feel your release approaching swiftly. You take him deep into your throat now, feeling his hips tense under your fingers as he starts to frantically thrust himself into your face over and over, his stones slapping at your jaw.

Aemond gravels out his words through gritted teeth, his long fingers plunging into your sex hard and fast now, as his control starts to waver. Every word he utters is accompanied by a needy gasp at the end as a small tremor begins to make its way through his body.

“Fucking Seven… can do whatever they want to me… just so long as I can have you. And fuck you…. And love you.”

All at once it hits you, the week without his touch, the year you’d had been torn apart by war… the love he’d never really spoken of until this very moment. Your head lolls back against the cushions and suddenly you’re and moaning in ecstasy around his cock as he continues to fuck your throat. You clench tightly around his fingers, shaking and trembling as you reach your peak, completely overstimulated as he laps at your centre with an unrelenting passion.

Soft guttural groans fall from his curved lips, trying so hard to bring you to release once more. His hips stutter, his movements flustered… and he’s spilling into you. The feeling of you swallowing every drop washes over him like the waves crashing onto Blackwater Bay, and he cannot help but moan your name loudly and shudder, hands desperately stroking the at soft curve of your ass. He loses himself in you completely. Every dream he’d ever had, all his aspirations, meant nothing in the wake of you. He could be King of Westeros for all he cared. You were everything.

You release him with a soft pop of your mouth, panting as you let yourself breath for the first time in what felt like an age. The two of you lay spent, catching your breath. Ever so gently, you lean forward to press a tender kiss to the slender dip of his hip bone, nuzzling your nose against his naval.

“... Have I stolen your voice, love?” You whisper.

Aemond takes a few deep breaths, gathering himself and wiping his glistening mouth with the back of his hand raggedly. A lazy smile grazes his gorgeous flushed features. For a man so pale, you loved more than anything how only you could make him so pink and rosy.

“... I do believe The Seven had stolen it. To punish me for experiencing something so glorious and so holy, that no words ought ever to be able to describe it.”

Shakily he sits up and tucks himself back into his breeches, before pulling your back against his chest. You remember yourself and the party outside, and hastily pull up your bodice, fixing your hair until strong arms encircle you from behind, and gentle hands still you. Aemond presses languid kisses to your neck, his nose brushing into your unruly locks.

“... Just a few more moments.” He whispers pleadingly, his body still trembling from the bliss you had just given him. After a short while with tender touches, he starts to fix your hair for you, tightening loose ties, repositioning pins he’d skewed, all the while pressing small innocent kisses to your cheeks and collar.

You smile up at him adoringly when he finally stands and extends his hand to you.

“Alas my dearest one, we will have many more moments like this. In our own chambers…. In our own marriage bed.” Your voice is husky as he laces his fingers with yours and a boyish smile decorates his blushed cheeks.

“Indeed. We shall have many, many more tonight. And many, many more after that.” He steals a bashful look at you as you both start walking hurriedly through the secret passage once again, feeling a lot warmer than the time before, before he continues quietly, his voice just above a whisper.

“I believe we shall have them for the rest of our lives, in fact.”

You both hesitate before you head back into the great hall, Aemond’s pace faltering and softly taking your hands in his to gaze down at you with a purposeful glint in his eye. The faint sounds of your guests echo from behind the tapestry, the clatter of servants rushing by.

“... Come now, Aemond, my Dragon, we must go back. They will fear you have kidnapped me! To think, before my arrival to King’s Landing I was told that you were a rather wicked Prince?”

You giggle, watching Aemond ignore you entirely to lick at his thumb, reaching up to your face to brush away a wet patch of his spend from the corner of your mouth.

His hand lingers on your face to stroke at the apple of your cheek with his thumb, his lilac eye hooded and dreamy. “Oh I intend to be wicked with you however and whenever I can. You can be quite sure of that.”

Something shifts after he says this, his face still pink but seemingly for another reason entirely. You watch as his lips tremble and the tendons in his neck contract like he’s struggling to speak.

“But, I wonder… did they ever tell you how much the wicked Prince… loves you?”

A warmth like no other spreads across your chest and a blinding smile blossoms on your face.

He loves you.

“... Because I do love you, Y/N. Most ardently.”

As your eyes locked to his, the celebrations outside, the whole night seemed to fade away, leaving only the pulsating rhythm of your heart and his. You’d kissed countless times but in that moment it felt timeless, your lips gently meeting in a breath-taking embrace that whispered promises of a lifetime ahead full of happiness and devotion.

“... Now come on, little Doe. Let us away.” Aemond whispers tenderly against your lips as you break apart.

Taking your arm in his he parts open the tapestry, the light of the feast flooding into the dark space you had stolen yet another moment together in. With a deep breath, you take a step towards the Great Hall, and a greater step towards your future with him.

#Ewan Mitchell #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fic #aemond smut #hotd fanfiction #Fics by me

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penguwastaken · 1 month

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About Brainwashing in Danganronpa

Hello to all 3 of the people who see this account. A few months ago, I made a thread on hit website Twitter dot com about brainwashing in the Danganronpa Series. I discussed where it came from, how it works, and how the brainwashing of class 77-B was never a retcon. The thread got a lot of attention there, even getting a "debunk" on other hit website Reddit dot com (lmao). Due to that, there's been a lot of responses and questions. Since I can't really update a Twitter thread, I decided that I'd make the Ultimate™ Brainwashing thread and hopefully dispel any information on the subject while making my original points more clear and covering things I failed to cover. So here it is: Brainwashing in Danganronpa, how it works, where it came from, and how it was intended from the start. (a 🧵 except not really) *Massive spoilers for Danganronpa Zero, Danganronpa 2, Danganronpa Another Episode, Danganronpa Togami, and Danganronpa 3, as well as the series as a whole*

Danganronpa Zero: First Sighting

Brainwashing has its roots all the way back in the second official entry produced in the series, Danganronpa Zero. During the story's events, Ryoko comes across a secret cult made up of students from the reserve course. They're seen staring at a strange video, seemingly turning them and turn them into mindless zombies.

The video depicts members of the student council killing each other. Ryoko is stunned while watching it. She can barely look away, but eventually through force of will she does. This same video is later used to convince the reserve course to rebel.

The way it's described to work is that it uses their “pent-up emotions,” implying that their emotions played a role in its effectiveness. It's also worth noting that the novel itself refers to what is happening as brainwashing, making this objectively the first depiction of brainwashing in the series right from the second entry.

Danganronpa 2: Now it Gets Dubious

Our next instance of brainwashing comes from Danganronpa 2. The concept is brought up multiple times, such as when Makoto states that the Ultimate Despairs were brainwashed or how the Neo World Program is good at treating brainwashing, though the details of what brainwashing actually means in this context are kept vague.

It's also worth noting that Danganronpa 2 was being written around the same time as Danganronpa Zero and Kodaka wanted concepts from the novel to appear in Danganronpa 2, likely so readers would feel validated. This is why things like Izuru Kamukura and the reserve course play huge roles in Danganronpa 2, it's not too much of a stretch to say that the same applies with brainwashing. One detail we’re given about the brainwashing is from Monokuma, who states the Ultimate Despairs were brainwashed by Junko taking advantage of their feelings. Specifically love, hate, grudges, and "anything really". If that sounds familiar, it’s because that’s exactly how the brainwashing video from Danganronpa Zero was described to function, using their pent-up emotions.

I should mention that Monokuma and Junko are known for being unreliable narrators who often stretch the truth, exaggerate things, and use hyperbole to manipulate people into believing their narrative. Monokuma describes the Ultimate Despairs as “nothing more than Junko’s limbs”, which contradicts the existence of characters like Nagito. Who, while in his despair state, did not work with Junko nor did he look up to her (at least in the normal sense like the other Ultimate Despairs). In fact, it would have been impossible for them to really obey any of Junko's orders as Ultimate Despairs because Junko was trapped inside of Hope's Peak with minimal connection to the outside world. This isn't a definitive "Monokuma is lying" statement, but just note that his word isn't 100% reliable. Meanwhile, someone like Makoto who outright mentions brainwashing, is a much more reliable source.

Danganronpa Another Episode: More Brainwashing! (kinda irrelevant tho...)

The next time brainwashing is used is in the next entry, Danganronpa Another Episode. Though its purpose in this discussion isn’t the most useful, as the brainwashing is caused by Monokuma helmets, which don’t have their functionality explained. I figured it was worth mentioning and describing at least, as its another example of brainwashing at least.

I did figure it was worth adding how the brainwashed children act. They obey the Warriors of Hope’s every command, as if they have zero control over their actions. This is different from how the Ultimate Despairs act, who still some free had free will after presumably being brainwashed judging by the actions of Nagito, who is also in this game.

Danganronpa Togami: I Hate My Life

Okay. As mixed as my opinions are on this novel trilogy, it does feature brainwashing. In fact, it might feature one of the most detailed and important descriptions of brainwashing in the series, and even outright CONFIRMS that class 77-B were brainwashed (sorta).

"Hey um... Tumblr/Twitter user Pengu... what do you mean by 'sorta'?" Well my uninformed reader who I guarantee has probably never read this book, there's a twist. I regret to inform you that the canonicity of Danganronpa Togami is rather questionable, as it depicts an extremely unreliable narrator’s warped viewing of events due to this thing called the K2K system, which means not everything in the novel is meant to be taken literally or at face value.

This doesn't mean that everything should be discarded or immediately dismissed however. This just means that we have to use our brains a little and decipher what the hell Yuya Sato was cooking when he wrote this novel trilogy. In the novel, we discover the existence of the elusive despair novel. When read, the novel will turn the reader to despair and inflict them with the despair disease. This novel is what's used to plummet the world into despair, as well as being what caused the class 77-B to become the Ultimate Despairs. There's no known ways to avoid it, once you read it, it's joever. 😔

As I said earlier, the events of Danganronpa Togami can’t be taken literally. Due to this and prior context, we can safely assume that the despair novel is most likely the K2K's warped idea of the despair video from Danganronpa Zero. Instead of being a book being read that brainwashed people, it was a video being watched. What makes me so sure? Well let's look over the similarities. The way the despair novel works is that it uses cruel words to overload the reader with negative emotions, causing them to snap and turn to despair. That sounds almost exactly like the despair video, overloading the viewer by manipulating their emotions until they turn to despair. This connection's a little bit of a stretch but I'll bring it up anyways. The technology used in the despair novels was originally to bring hope. (Take notes, it will probably be important assuming you buy this connection.)

Essentially, the despair novel works the exact same way as the despair video, but instead it’s a book and you read it instead of watching it. This means that class 77-B and the rest of the world were most likely brainwashed via the despair video, and that is what caused the class to become Ultimate Despairs.

Danganronpa 3: The One People Really Don't Like

And all of this brings us to the most detailed yet controversial usage of brainwashing: Danganronpa 3. Many assume that the anime’s usage of brainwashing is a retcon, contradicting the words of our holy savior Super Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair High School. However, I’d like to debate that. In fact, I'd like to finally put a nail in the coffin of this really stupid debate and finally show you that Danganronpa 3's depiction of brainwashing is exactly how it has always been described.

In Danganronpa 3, we are introduced to Ryota Mitarai and his anime. Using the power of subliminal messaging, it heightens the viewer's emotions and makes them more powerful. What was once a slightly emotional scene is now a complete tearjerker fully capable of tearing at the viewers heart strings! While he acknowledges that there are unethical things that can be done with this technology and it's technically brainwashing, his goal is to use this technology to make the world a better place, even if it can be dangerous. If that sounds familiar, that's because it's what Hope's Peak tried doing with the despair novel in Danganronpa Togami. Though I'll admit, this single point is a little bit of a stretch as there are differences. I just figured it was worth at least a mention.

Using her analytical prowess, Junko gets a rough understanding of how the technology works, so she develops the despair video, featuring the student council killing each other overlayed with subliminal messaging technology to make the despair felt while viewing the video stronger.

The video works on Mikan, however Junko fears that the video may not be powerful enough to fully go through with her plans due to not understanding the technology nearly as well as Ryota does. Because of this, she forces Ryota to create a better, more powerful despair video. A despair video v2 if you will. Junko’s fears weren’t unfounded, as we discover that Chisa had the mental fortitude to resist the despair video, similarly to how Ryoko was able to resist the same video in Danganronpa Zero. This is exactly why Junko needs a more powerful video, one that she knows can’t be resisted.

"Ermmmm, Tumblr/Twitter user Pengu, how come Ryoko and Chisa are able to resist the despair video but Mikan and nobody in the reserve course could?" Good question, the answer is pretty simple. As mentioned before, the video takes advantage of the emotions of the viewer. Mikan is already pretty weak minded, so there wasn't much issue in controlling her. The reserve course already hated Hope's Peak and would take any reason to hate them more, so a video that shows them the sins of Hope's Peak would affect them as well. Ryoko and Chisa have no connection to the reserve course however, and neither are particularly very weak emotionally. Ryoko has the analytical prowess of Junko and Chisa is just a very strong willed person in general, and paired with Junko's lack of knowledge about subliminal messaging when creating the video, it's pretty obvious it wouldn't be that effective on them. All the more reason for Junko to force Ryota to make a better despair video.

The despair video v2 that Ryota is forced to make comes in the form of Chiaki’s execution video, where the stronger subliminal messages paired with witnessing the representation of the happiest moments in their miserable lives and their closest friend suffer makes class 77-B unable to resist. Ultimately this causes them to finally snap, being overloaded with despair, and now they turn into the Ultimate Despairs. (side note this is so freaking cool idc what anyone else says)

This resembles Monokuma’s explanation from Danganronpa 2. Junko used class 77-B’s emotions and years of getting closer against them to turn them to them to despair. Now featuring the added context of her using the video designed to manipulate people’s emotions. This depiction of brainwashing fits perfectly with the information provided throughout the series, even down to the little details. It’s so close in fact that I can say without a doubt that Danganronpa 3 did not retcon anything. “But Tumblr/Twitter user Pengu, that isn’t how the video is shown to work during Hope Arc. Therefore it actually contradicts previous entries and is inconsistent!" To that I say, you’re correct! ...at least about the hope video functioning differently, but that doesn’t make it inconsistent. The hope video behaves pretty differently. Instead of overloading the viewer with negative feelings, it simply just shows them a repeating video loop that turns them into a mindless zombie, likely caused by even stronger subliminal messaging. The people affected can also snap out of this state with some time, as seen with Aoi.

The reasoning for this is actually pretty simple, it’s just different technology entirely. It’s stated that the hope video was developed later on after the despair video. If anything, it behaves very similar to the Monokuma masks from Danganronpa Another Episode, which we also already established uses different technology. The hope video doesn’t contradict the despair video at all because they both use completely different tech. This can also be seen with how the despair video uses subliminal messaging, meanwhile the messaging in the hope video couldn’t be further from subliminal. There is no inconsistency, just two different things.

The reason the hope video needed to be broadcasted everywhere was so that since it would be airing everywhere, nobody would have time for the effects to wear off or resist it. This would turn the world into mindless zombies who obey every command, similarly to the Monokuma kids. It's just that now they don't have to force bulky helmets onto everyone.

Debunking Common Arguments

With the hope video out of the way, I think it’s very safe to assume that not only is the despair video’s functionality very accurate to previous descriptions, it’s also always been the reason for the brainwashing of Class 77-B, long before Danganronpa 3. Even if you disagree and think the cause of brainwashing was never explicitly mentioned in Danganronpa 2, there's still the fact that Danganronpa 2 outright says it was brainwashing. So even if a video wasn't the direct cause of it, them being brainwashed was still always intended (though given the context, I'm certain that the video was always the culprit). Many point to this line where Kazuichi asks why they became the Ultimate Despairs and Makoto says he never got an answer to debunk this. But... this doesn't change anything. He asks why they became Ultimate Despairs, not how. And this is completely ignoring the fact that Makoto clearly has done his own digging into the situation, he discovered the Remnants of Despair were hiding among Future Foundation after all. The Future Foundation had access to brainwashing videos, they found them, so of course Makoto is going to know about the brainwashing. But that's not what he's asking about, he's asking about the why. That's what he doesn't know.

Many also point to Mikan stating that it was her many human relationships that led her to being the way she is. Once again, this changes literally nothing. Mikan was the only one of the remnants who actually knew Junko, she was the only one who spent time with her because she was the first subject. This is why she gets more attached to her, and even why she'd believe what Junko would tell her when they spent time together. Monokuma also says that Junko used "hopeless methods overflowing with charisma and humor" to control the masses. I don't even know why I have to address this, but this statement is so vague you can interpret it as a million things. Like for example, this is how she got Ryota to work for her. While pretending to be Makoto to manipulate the people in the trial, Junko tells them that they all became Ultimate Despairs while coming into contact with her at Hope's Peak and they were subjected by her terrifying influence. Again, ignoring how vague "terrifying influence" is, this is literally Junko trying to LIE AND MANIPULATE them. This is quite possibly the worst example you could have used because we know for a fact that she is lying to them while pretending to be Makoto. There's other examples of Junko trying to manipulate them, like mentioning how everyone hated them and their all Ultimate Despairs at the end of the day. But that's just what this is, manipulation. You would think that the "Junko manipulated class 77-B" crowd would understand that saying "everyone hates you but I saw your potential" is literally manipulation 101. Some say that the brainwashing turned them into mindless zombies and eliminates all blame from their actions. While I would agree that it does make them less at fault, they still have the ability to make choices and still have free will. Their original personalities haven't been overwritten, their brains were just rewired to crave despair. They're still each their individual person with their own ways of feeling despair, and characters like Chisa and Nagito show that they regain their free will to an extent.

Conclusion and Final Thoughts

This whole debate stems from people misunderstanding Monokuma’s words and going along with the popular interpretation, which turned out to be wrong. Whether you like the use of brainwashing or not, it objectively isn’t a retcon as it's been developed ever since Danganronpa Zero. Personally, I love the use of brainwashing. I think the way it's developed throughout the series and its usage in Danganronpa 3 is super interesting. If you disagree, that's fine! Heck, if you choose to headcanon that Junko manipulated 15 individual teenagers into all becoming despair hungry terrorists capable but ending the world and fighting off every military in the world in less than a year, that's cool too! But the truth is, Danganronpa 3's brainwashing is canon and it's also not a retcon nor does it contradict anything. Contrary to popular belief, Kodaka was involved with the writing of the anime. He provided a large draft and outline of the plot and oversaw its development. He produced the anime, he did his homework, he knew what he was doing. I'm sure if Kodaka intended for them to all be manipulated one by one, that's what he would have went with. All information implying that it was manipulation is very few and far between and questionable at best, not to mention outweighed by everything implying it was brainwashing. Mind manipulation stuff is not new in this series, its been around since the first game and brainwashing was established in literally the second entry ever produced. Whether you love it or hate it, think it's the best thing since sliced bread or the death of the series, brainwashing was the answer the whole time. Some people just never noticed it, and instead of acknowledging that they were wrong, they stuck with a headcanon that they believed so much and jumped to the conclusion of "retcon". I hope this mega post managed to inform some people, maybe change some minds too. If you still don't buy it, then I guess there's nothing I can do. Thanks for reading all of this though, I tend to yap a lot about this franchise lmao.

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ms0milk · 2 months

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no cw so self indulgent, farmhand nanami showed up from nowhere like he was made in a lab to bewitch you <1k

He would look better on horseback this morning, cantering through fog falling cold from the mountains. Nanami is a handsome rider and he’s strong enough to do it well. His hips roll like they should in a saddle and his hair was always meant to be mussed by a breeze. Reins fit nicely in his golden hands. Regal might be a word you use as you bundle up in your doorway, watching the man emerge from a quickly-overgrowing gate at dawn. A word you might use if Nanami was actually on horseback and not leading your horse on foot, clearly mired with bramble thorns from waist to boot.

He’s wearing your hat. Nanami draws it low to hide his face and your sweet horse nips at his hand as they walk together; their gaits are both heavy with sleep. He’s never once looked disheveled but this morning his clothes hang quite well over his jeans where he’s usually so careful to tuck them in and in all he embodies the farmhand’s equivalent for wearing odd shoes to carry groceries inside.

A canvas coat that is clearly much too small on his broad shoulders, is thrown over a dress shirt– possibly two– you’ve never seen before and he couldn’t even manage to button one closed. His undershirt glows obnoxiously underneath as it hugs the shapes of his firm body. It’s a blessing to watch, a thought you will keep to yourself, and you open your door a bit wider in invitation.

“Early ride?”

He peers out under his brim at the sound of a voice and tips the hat off his head with a quickness when he sees you. He tightens his sleepy posture. Your pretty cream gelding is returned to his stall for breakfast before Nanami answers your question.

The only thing between the back stalls and your front door is moss. The earth this farm belongs to is wet with life. A thousand horseshoes have flatted the walkway like pressed powder and still the dandelions grow, pollen falls, petals fall, rain falls, snow falls freezes and melts and still your stables are warm and your dusty clearings grow grasses. You tighten your shawl around your shoulders. The morning fields are all mist and the sun can’t be bothered to warm you.

If you surprised him, it doesn’t show. Dewed pebbles crunch under Nanami’s boots as he crosses the clearing to reach you, you standing chilly in your sleepshirt with coffee brewing in the kitchen. You’d like to know why he’s wearing half the bramble patch as pants.

“M’sorry miss,” he rasps like he hasn’t spoken yet today and a quick twitch of his brows is the only thing that hints at embarrassment. Man of few words. English doesn’t seem to be his first language but he won’t tell anyone a thing about himself past what you all can observe. He works well, he works quietly. The animals love him and he doesn’t mind a bit of dirt. Nanami showed up in town a few months ago and the old boss hired him outright when she saw him in a full suit at sunday market. Horndog. She knew how good he’d look in chaps.

“Excuse my thieving” he murmurs this time to keep his voice soft and hangs your hat on the horn beside your door.

“Don’t call me miss, Mr. Nanami.”

“Excuse that too.”

Your hat hugged him too tight and his hair suffers for it, blond bits stuck flat to his head like a teenager with bedhead. He has to hang his head low to look at you for how much taller he is and you haven’t decided whether his dedication to eye contact is chivalry or flirtation. He’ll look through you to the bone with those sharp brown eyes, even if you’ve only just whistled good morning. Something inside him can’t help but call you miss.

“I’d love to hear this story,” you yawn slightly and gesture to his outfit, “I put a pot on.”

Nanami’s head tilts so slightly as he considers all the ways he might decline such an imposing offer but when you bump the door open a touch and bitter, bread, and jam roll out into the morning air you know you’ve got him. After all, what cowboy can resist coffee?

farmhand nanami tag <3

#farmhand nanami ˚⊹♡#tbc dudes bc i need him to fuck me #nanami x reader

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senpiecakes · 1 year

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A Love Not Meant to Be: Childe

Notes: I saw this in my drafts, and I haven't posted anything in this series for a while so I was like 'fuck it, I'm gonna finish it.' (lowkey this made me cry while I listened to the song)

Summary: Hated by everyone, loved by you.

Theme/s: GN!Reader, Angst No Comfort, the world hates you both

Warning/s: Some very mean words from the world. That's about it.

Once More to See You by Mitski

5.5k Words

“I’ll protect you.”

Childe is known to be protective of those he loves. He goes out of his way to spin elaborate lies for his youngest brother to protect his innocence, he makes sure to keep his whole family out of harm's way because of his job, and he will strike down any enemy that dares to threaten his loved ones. In all of that, there was you. You loved Childe dearly, and it was clear he had the same feelings for you. Childe shows you off to his subordinates, pampers you with his wealth and makes sure you’re top priority always. That included your safety. Everywhere you went, bodyguards kept a close distance, if you were out with Childe, he’d keep a secure arm around you, even at home he’d make sure you’re safe- especially when you’re alone. All that you could trust him in. Childe only sees threats in the form of enemies, never in the common folk that walk with you in the streets day to day.

‘There goes that Fatui’s hound.’

‘Can you believe they’re actually WITH a Harbinger?’

‘I bet you they’re kidnapped or blackmailed.’

Everyday, hushed voices would throw scorn at you and Childe as you passed. You knew of the world’s disdain for the Fatui but you also knew Childe. He was sweet, caring, protective and you knew in your heart he would never hurt you. But you were also aware of his reputation; his strength in battle, his ability to harm warranted or not, his sworn duty to an Archon planning to rid the world of Gods. It was only fair of people to have their opinions about Childe. But you knew deep down how much the man can love- if the rest of the world saw him through your eyes, maybe their opinions of him would change. People feared him, but they had the gall to throw their cowardly vices towards you.

Some days, you tell your bodyguards to lay back for a while, that you can handle yourself while you grocery shop. Despite your commands, they follow you. On those days when you appear to be alone, people made it clear how much they truly hated the man you loved. They would be more vocal about their jeers, going as far as to tell you directly that you should be ashamed for being with him. You’d defend Childe with all that you can and that usually results in many unsavory exchanges.

People refusing to sell you things in fear that Childe may target them, some barring you from their business with the most ridiculous reasons, others even outright mocking you. That’s when your bodyguards step in and you fear that it only escalates things further- that you had to be kept within a wall.

‘I knew you’re a coward, hiding behind that Fatui freak.’

You don’t really think much about these encounters, never speaking a word about it to Childe until your bodyguards inform him of all that’s happened.

“Do you want me to deal with them?” He asks you one night.

“What? No! I can handle myself.” You say.

“Well, alright. Just tell me if anything else happens, okay?”

In truth, you knew if Childe stepped in it would make things worse. You didn’t want him to shoulder all the weight and responsibility of keeping those he loved safe. He already has so many stresses happening at once, one more problem could send him over the edge. And so, you bore through it because you loved him. It was all that you needed.

It was until strange things started happening around your home- the place where you felt the most secure. Rocks thrown at your windows, strangers standing only a few feet away from your doorstep, light acts of vandalism appearing on your property. Only then did you start fearing for your life. You brought the issue up to Childe who kept guard throughout the night, but miraculously, nothing ever happens when he’s at home. It’s only when you’re by yourself that people seem to go out of their way to take out their frustrations of Childe onto you. You didn’t think that people could be so cruel. Then again, they had a reason to hate Childe- but they had no excuse to show their hatred through you.

Childe always noticed your fears. As much as he tried to relieve it, the world always seemed to push his efforts away. Even as he volunteers to deal with the problem himself, you hold him back. As much as it angers him to see you look so vulnerable, he knows it’ll only make things worse.

Things came to a boiling point when Childe suggested you two take a walk together around town to take your mind off of things. You were reluctant to be seen with him, which was silly but reasonable. In the end, you agreed and Childe was more observant in his surroundings more than ever. His head was held up high, scanning the crowd who turned away as they met his cold gaze. You on the other hand kept your eyes low on the ground, fearing that someone would be brave enough to cross Childe’s wrath. He noticed this, noticed your shying away as if you were embarrassed to be seen with him, and he could do nothing to ease you of your worries.

It’ll only make things worse.

As you walked, Childe led you away to a place with little to no people- a place where you can breathe. He savors this moment with you. He never really has time to be at home so Childe always makes sure to spend as much time with you as he can, pouring out his heart when he’s absent during the night when you sleep.

“You know, you’re the realest thing I’ve had in a while.” Childe says, taking your fingers in his hands. “Thank you.” He looked at you and was surprised to see your face. Quick was your change of expression- a look of fear as you glanced down at his hand, then back up at Childe. Your eyes, wide and worried, wandering around the near-empty streets as you took your fingers away by impulse and smiled awkwardly.

“Ah… well, let’s get going before it gets too dark.”

It was clear how much of a toll the fear had on you. You barely went out to shop anymore, spending your days and nights locked up in your house, counting down the days for Childe’s return from a mission. He worries about you, even more so when you start acting differently towards him. You’re silent, shrinking away from his touch, never wanting to go out for dinners and always afraid of seeing him off- even if it was just at your front door. You worried about your long term future with him. You wanted life with Childe to be normal- that one day if would just be the two of you living a mundane but peaceful life. Childe was angry and heartbroken; angry at the fact that he is powerless to change the minds of people, to stop them from seeing his infamy through you. Heartbroken at the fact that you drift away because of the very same people that convince you that loving him was a sin. Childe needed to take you out of there.

And so, you move. He takes you to his missions and you find temporary housing in whatever nation his job lands him in. You thought you could handle it, that starting fresh would be what’s best, but it seemed that this lifestyle was far more exhausting than the one you had before. You never had a home; whenever you felt comfortable in your new living space, Childe always finishes up his mission before you even get the chance to look around the place. You don’t get to stay for long anyways; the longer you stay, the more people recognize Childe and soon you are back in the cycle of hate. As much as Childe tried to keep you from harm's way, it never felt safe. It was draining, but you held on for Childe’s sake. He just wanted to keep you safe.

“Let’s go back home to Snezhnaya.” Childe suggested one night. “I think it’ll be good for both of us.” You knew why Childe wanted to go back home. He needed peace away from the dangers of his duty and you were more than happy to be there with him. Still, you can’t really shake off the paranoia you’ve acquired after running away for so long.

“What about your work?” You ask.

“I’ve requested a time off. I’ve been doing great anyways.”

“We can’t stay with your family.” You say silently, looking down at your hands. “We can’t risk it. After all the places we’ve been, people are bound to recognize me now.”

“I know.” Childe responds. “I rented us a cabin in the forest. Just the two of us.”

Soon enough, you found yourself in the winters of Snezhnaya, in a little wooden cabin surrounded by tall trees, blanketed by snow under the dome of endless sky. It really was just the two of you. Childe watches in adoration as you feel yourself feeling free for the first time in a while. He smiles as you do back at him, bounding through the snow and into his open arms.

Childe hasn’t felt you this close in so long. He’s gone on nights and on days you’re withdrawn. He wants to get carried away with you. Your comforting embrace was almost enough to send him over the edge.

“I missed you.” He whispers in your ear, tone mirroring that of a desperate man waiting to be satisfied.

He wants to devour you like a wolf; caught between your teeth and tongue like a ravaged, hungry animal waiting for the warmth that comes with death as soon as he takes the first bite. And all that Childe has ever known was hunger; to hunt and to take what was never given to him. He will kiss till you are breathless, till your skin burns with desire and lips shed the blood he once ravaged others to get- to release the tension built up in his bones when he failed to protect you from the world. But he is in your hands. He’d let you tame him if it meant he’d get to feel your love like the way he used to.

Tonight, as you spare him a fluttering kiss, sweet like candy and warm like the blood he craves- Childe falters. You barely have your lips on his, but as soon as he feels the delicate brush of your skin, the slight exhale through your nose on his cheek as if to say you feel secure, Childe is at the mercy of the prey that was once in his control. He will not bite the hand that feeds him, and so, he simply closes his eyes and sinks into the innocence of your willingness to be in his grasp. His mind races with all the things that had happened to the both of you. You endured so much for him and the thought of that makes Childe feel guilt like never before.

The world slows to let Childe’s heart thrum madly in his chest. He feels you inch in closer, fingers interlocking with him as he feels the tension leave your shoulders, the weight of fear from the past now gone. You’re with him. You’re both alone. You’re safe.

Childe will not be the monster the world portrays him to be- not especially around you. But even if you see him in his prime- blue waves crashing into violent lighting- how could you kiss him like he’s a man fit to hold the beauty of the world? He’s shown you how childish, immature, selfish and brash he could be, all the while he stubbornly wants to keep you at his side for his sake. Even then, you chose to stay. You didn’t want to push him away. Childe feels as though he doesn’t deserve this.

Tell me, he thinks. How could you love me for who I am?

“How could you still be with me for all the things I’ve done?” Childe mumbles, voice breaking as he pulls you in. “The blood on my hands, the lives it took-“ You stop him. Childe falls silent and your response nearly makes him lose his composure.

“You were just a kid.” You whisper, taking his face in your steady hands. “You were never given a choice.” Childe breathes hard as he studies your hardened eyes, scolding him almost. He wasn’t the type to show weakness, not with you, not with gentle scolding. But this- you’re giving him a choice- a choice of freedom. To be unshackled by the consequences of his past and allow him to be vulnerable, even for just a second.

The snowfall was quiet, and so were you. You knew what you had to say and Childe knows what it was. He just didn’t want to accept it.

“You know we can’t keep running away, Childe.”

Childe doesn’t answer and instead looks away, his eyes darting back and forth, refusing to look at you. His jaw was tight and his hands were clenched into a fist. You soften at the sight. You know that looks all too well. It was Childe’s way of showing fear. He wasn’t really afraid- only frustrated and fearful of the consequence of his actions. He knows deep down that he can’t keep running. He can’t take you with him and he refuses to let you go. You’re tired, he knows that, he just doesn’t ever want to lose you.

“Ajax,” you say, your hand landing on Childe’s cheek. He nearly flinches away from your touch, but instead he relents and allows himself to melt into you- his kiss finding home in the warmth of your palms. “What are you so afraid of?” Truth be told, Childe wasn’t as brave as he presents himself to be. He was just a person like everyone else; he had his own fears, worries, doubts and regrets. Many of those he did on his own, but now they’ve caught up to him, and he is more afraid of consequences now than he has ever been. All because of you. Childe ran away from all those problems before, but if those consequences catch up to him, they’d cost him you. You who fought with him so bravely- never afraid of him and his tainted past. You who stuck by him even when the world seemed to treat you like an outcast for even associating yourself with him. You who had sacrificed everything for him, defended him when he refused to do the same for himself. He was given a glimpse of the risks that came with his dangerous job. Soon, people would find the courage to test his strength. By all means, it would always cost you your freedom.

“Of you.” Childe says finally. “I’m scared of everything because of you.” It was hypocritical of him to think this way, especially since he was the one who put your life at risk and your reputation hanging on by a string. But you were braver than him in a way that was sane- and you still had the courage to look at him as if he were just any other person in the world. His dream of normalcy, you never took it away.

“Then why don’t you leave me?” Childe scoffs

“It’s not that easy for me to do that, you know?” He says with a weak laugh. He can’t leave you alone. He doesn’t want to, he would never want to.

“Then I’ll do it for you.” You say. “I’ll go far away and things will go back to normal.”

Childe looks at you surprised. He knows you’re doing this for his own sake and yours, that you’re doing what’s best even if it hurts. But why does he feel so betrayed? Why would you of all people leave him that quickly with all those promises and hopes and dreams for the future? Why would you be the one to crush them? Did any of it mean nothing? Why was it so easy for you to abandon what you had with him? Childe wanted to fight, argue and win you over again and again even if it meant you both had to go through heartbreak together. He needed you. He wanted to battle- but instead you calmed him with a look. A look he knew so well, so pleasant, that Childe’s sea of emotions ebbed and he gave you space to talk.

“You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking.” He says incredulously. You don’t answer. “Y/N, come on-”

“I love you, Childe, but this isn’t healthy for either of us.” You say. Childe shakes his head in protest but stays silent, allowing your words to penetrate him painfully as he lets the gravity of your situations sink in. You were right, he can’t keep running.

“You can protect me all you want, but we can’t live like this. You have jobs to do, places to go where I can’t, and I can’t keep fearing for my life when I’m with you. I love you, but I can’t… we can’t escape this, we can’t run away.” You say. “The best thing we can do is to get away from each other.”

“No, don’t do this to me!” He begs, almost angry. Childe doesn’t look at you and instead looks down at his feet, his teeth gritting and jaw tight as you hold his face and will for him to look.

“If you love me, then you wouldn’t do this, you wouldn’t leave me.” He argues. You shake your head but he continues. “You’ll just be like everyone else if you do. You’ll betray me by leaving because you’re just like everyone else!” Childe was guilting you into staying. He knows how wrong it was, how selfish he was being, but he thought it would be the only way to keep you by his side. It was the only way he knew how.

“You and I both know that isn’t true.” You say. Childe balls his fists a shadow looms over his already darkened eyes.

“If you really loved me, you would stay.” His voice was a silent, forceful anger that made you pity him. But this, whatever you two had, was destructive; it hurt you both and you knew well that Childe would destroy himself and a million more just to get what he wants- just to keep you with him.

“I do love you, Childe,” You say and a hopeful shine appears in his eyes. “But not enough to make me want to stay.” And in a flash, it’s gone. Despair washes over Childe’s expression, soon replaced by anger and desperation. He towers over you, a dark aura emanating from his gaze.

“You’re a liar.” Childe spits out, venom lacing his tone. You stand your ground- you knew well Childe would never hurt you. He never had space to deal with his emotions in a healthy manner, and you knew this tantrum was to mask the true feelings of hurt he had inside. He didn’t want to be seen as weak and vulnerable, even if it were you.

You were lying. You loved Childe so much it hurt- but this relationship between you two had terrorized you far worse. As much as you loved him, as much as he meant to you, you needed to save yourself. You sacrificed so much and risked everything in your life to be with him. You knew him better than anyone and saw him in a light that nobody else was willing to. You loved him as Ajax- the loving caring brother and family man that would do anything to protect those he loved so they would never have to go through the same thing he did. At the same time you loved Childe- the powerful, cocky and reckless Harbinger loyal to the Tsaritsa and even more loyal to you. But even that wasn’t enough. The world saw how much you truly loved Childe and decided to take advantage of that by pitting itself against you. It really was just the two of you against the world- but you had your limits, and Childe couldn’t be the person to fight alongside you if he tried. He tried, you tried, but nothing was enough.

“Please, Childe, look at me.” You say. “It might be the last time I’ll see you.”

“No!” He yells. “It’s not the last time! There won’t be a last time! You’re not leaving, I’ll see you again tomorrow and I can look at you all I want because you’re not leaving me! You would never do that to me!” Childe hugs you tight, his body trembling against you and choking sobs escape his throat. “Please, Y/N, I don’t want to be alone.”

You never thought you would ever see a Harbinger in this state- walls crumbling and image shattered from fear of all things. You thought the Harbingers were never afraid, that Childe would be the last person you’ll see look so distraught after all he went through. Then he looked at you dark blue eyes filled with tears, his brows furrowed and suppressed sobs making their way past his lips. You envision the young boy within him; robbed of this childhood, his innocence, still carrying the fear and trauma of the days he was taken away from his safety. Childe found his new safeplace in you, and the fear of losing it, losing you, the hope and dreams he so precariously planned with you, coupled with the loneliness and isolation that would come after you leave- of course he was going to be afraid. But you feared for your life- you didn’t want to risk Childe’s to save yours. And so, you turn away to leave but Childe grabs you.

“Childe, let me go.” You assert, tugging your wrist away from his tightening grip. He stares you down, wishing that it wouldn’t have to come to this.

“No, you can’t leave me.” He says. “You need me.” His tone was menacing, the same he uses against his subordinates to make them submit. This annoys you for some reason- to think that Childe had the nerve to see you as someone as lowly as those men and women under him- you thought you were both way past that. You angrily take your wrist away from him and start yelling- a version of you that Childe has never seen before. You didn’t know why you yelled, you didn’t understand why a red hot anger surged through your chest. You released every form of frustration you had on him; your fears, your regrets, the way you hated how he was so stubborn, the way you hated how he never admits he was wrong, how every bit of your life was stripped away the moment you told him you loved him. Everything. Tears well in your eyes with each word you say, and even more so when Childe decides to fight back. You thought that you trying to push him away like this would prompt him to let you go, not spiral into this form of chaos. You knew well that Childe would never give up an opportunity to fight; there’s no turning back now.

This was like any battle Childe would have trained to fight. It wasn’t like anything he had ever experienced from those before- the thrill, the excitement, his heart racing for more, more, more. Not tonight, not with you. You two were in war- fighting each other with the harshest words, sharp tongues, insults and arguments thrown so carelessly at the others deepest fears and insecurities. You were someone that knew Childe better than anybody, so this, the ache in Childe’s heart almost felt agonizing. He’s never seen you look so defeated. It’s as if it hurts you to even say these things to him out of anger. He hated the way your voice echoed the words his own mind would tell him; he hated the way your hands restrained themselves into fists by your side; he hated how tense your shoulders were, how your eyes looked so sad. He hated the way you mirrored those who tried so hard to break you in a pitiful attempt to make him feel what you felt.

Even from before as strangers berated you for even being with him, your life turned upside down for even being associated with him, you always put up such a strong front. Childe admired that, even more so now as he felt that he could shrink at the sheer magnitude of emotions that flooded out of you all because of him. Childe listened to you rant, your words becoming warbled as his head pounded with the strength of his own voice. He didn’t even know what he was saying at this point- only watching you cry and shout- wishing for nothing but to pull you in his arms and comfort you even while you’re still furious at him. Even if you beat, kick and punch your way out of his arms, just stay, he thinks.

Stay with me.

If it meant he’d lose everything else, Childe was willing to let this be the first battle he’ll lose. And what greater reward was it to lose against someone he loves?

“I can’t do this anymore, Childe,” you cry silently, your voice barely making it past your strained throat. He hears you, loud and clear. “I love you, but I can’t.”

Childe is silent.

The fallout was devastating, comparable to the collapse of a dying star. It was explosive and angry and destructive beyond what you could have anticipated. It was dangerous on both ends- the freefall of the damage reaching far beyond the ground zero of everything that surrounded the two of you. The echo of the forests that surrounded you two in the silence of winter felt the weight of you and Childe’s booming voices yelling louder above one anothers- shouting words you both would have never expected to hear the other say. It was painful, to you, to Childe and to the universe that knew of the relationship you had in secret- how the world watched your love bloom and beautify like a flower- and like a flower it wilted into the cold. It was ugly and it shouldn’t have been in the first place.

But at the same time, it was colorful and beautiful and bright. Twin flames bursting with far more hues than the searing red you saw in fury, the gentle blue of his tearful, empty eyes- a kaleidoscope of colors springing to life once the initial flames died down to a spark from where they’d started. The whispering, hushed voices, exhausted and only realizing the gravity of your situations. The once harmful words full of spite and venom now replaced by half-hearted apologies that carry the weight of your entire hearts, the words Childe cannot say. Like a star flickering out of its last few breaths, it explodes, furious and catastrophic, but it’s wonderful all the same. The rebirth of a new galaxy, the start of life anew. But for the both of you, it was still in the in-between; the slow, gradual explosion of a supernova, not yet ready to start over. That would be far, far into the future; right now, Childe stares into your tired, reddened eyes, seeing nothing but sadness and pity, and a glimpse into what could have been your future with him. That was the moment he calmed down, the star finally settling within itself to wait another million years of stasis until it could start over. The way Childe loved you was sincerely heartfelt, but the world was not ready to allow him to be happy.

Childe needed to make a choice. His hands tremble and fall to his sides, steeling himself for the moment you would look at him, finally seeing him for who he really is. Childe looks down, refusing to even glance at you, unable to confront the fact that his delusional want of hopes and dreams would just be that; a hope and a dream. He’ll just bear through the pain in silence, only listen when you would eventually turn your heels and walk away. Instead, Childe feels the lightness of your grip around him, your arms wrapped around his frame so surely, and the delicate plush of your kiss on his lips. In that moment, when he feels your shaking body against his beginning to hesitantly pull away, Childe breaks. His composure weakens as he sobs against your lips, shaking fingers not knowing where to touch you- wanting to reach for you so badly- but he doesn’t know how. He felt like he couldn’t, it would hurt too much, but if he didn’t, he would regret not wanting to when he had the chance. And so, he pulls you in, so close, so tight, that he feels he can never ever let you go. Childe hears your muffled sobs against his lips, your hands placed on his chest not knowing if you should push him away or pull him even closer. If he could live in this moment, he would for a million years; he would freeze time and let it be so that the two of you could live on happily.

When you break away, still feeling the need to gravitate towards each other, Childe smiles dumbly despite the situation. You follow suit.

“Gods…” You mumble, wiping away your own tears. “Will it always be like this if we fight? We kiss and make up?” Childe chuckles weakly.

“I wouldn’t really mind that.”

Silence again, and the snow begins to fall. Your gaze wanders ‘round the now still forest that cushioned your arguments and your eyes fixate on the sun beginning to set.

“It’s getting dark.” You say, and Childe nods in agreement. Tentatively, he takes your hand and leads you both back into the cabin, the fire now long gone, but the heat never leaving your skin.

You two went about that night in complete silence- never once uttering a single word to each other until it was finally time to sleep on your shared bed. Only then, when you decide to sleep on your side and fully expected Childe to stay in his, did you feel the relief of comfort when he wrapped you in his arms and pull you close. You nestled yourself in his warmth and breathed in the frost of the night. Silence was broken by Childe once more.

“You’re free to make a choice, Y/N,” he mumbles. “If you choose to leave, just know I’ll never be mad at you for it.” You feel Childe’s embrace tighten as he says it. You nod and hold his roughened hand, kissing his knuckles and burying yourself under the covers.

“Goodnight, Ajax.”

Childe didn’t sleep that night. He listened to the whistling breeze from outside and the occasional movements you’d make. He thinks about all the events that led up till now; how life snowballed into this catastrophe of a situation you both were in. He thinks about how different life for him would be if he hadn’t met you. He won’t be happier then; Childe loves you too much to imagine a life wherein your absence would be his downfall. At the same time, your life would ultimately be better without him in it. He pictures your smiling face amongst the crowd, everyone happy to see you’ve arrived because he isn’t there to taint your reputation. How different things would be for you both if you hadn’t met.

Childe had a choice, you’ve given him one. As much as it pains him to do this to you, to do it to himself, he knew in his heart he had to do it.

Silently, before the sun breaks out into dawn, Childe prepares himself for the inevitability of loneliness once he steps out the door. He watches you for a moment and ultimately decides that staying for a second longer would be far more painful. And so, he left silently in the sunrise, in the snow where he’ll be in the far, far future. When you woke that morning, you braced yourself of the dread that came with Childe’s absence. You knew deep down he’ll leave. He never wanted to be the selfish one, but tonight, he needed to be- for your sake. You breathed in the cold winter air and willed yourself to look at the note he left on the side that was once his. So little words, yet it had been enough to have you shatter.

‘Please forget me.’

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merakiui · 1 year

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I love your apocalypse au so much omg. Especially with Riddle like MMMMMM

How would the rest of the compound leaders treat their brides? (Including RSA and Rollo if that’s okay)

:D thank you for enjoying it!!

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, misogyny, apocalypse logic, mentions of breeding/pregnancy, obsession)

Riddle is controlling. He has built up a system with rules and it must not be broken. Naturally, these rules extend to you and he expects you to follow them. He may seem cold and mean and immensely difficult to get through to, especially when he has such a short temper, but if it weren't for Trey's placating words and actions you probably would have found yourself cast out long ago. Riddle has to learn to live with you, much like how you have to learn to live with Riddle. He only took you as a bride because it's part of the rules, so for a while he views you as more of an obligation rather than someone he might want to spend a life with. It takes time, but Riddle will warm up to you and, hopefully, soften enough to be lenient when it comes to the rules. Always so efficient, he has a schedule listing all of the days in which he hopes to try for a child with you, and leading up to those times he'll be sure to prepare you well in advance. If you can smooth his rough edges, you'll find he can be a pleasant, caring husband. And perhaps a child is what he needs to learn patience in order to keep his anger in check!

Leona is respectful with you. He makes sure you're given proper treatment by those around you, and if anyone has a problem with you they have to take it up with the leader first. Though he can be lazy and oftentimes most of his work falls to Ruggie to complete, he is honest about what he wants. He has no need for mind games or intricate webs of lies. Leona is fairly blunt about it: he picked you because a leader needs a bride and you're supposed to give him children, but if you're against it he's fine with it. It's not like he's desperate to have children any time soon, and you're an interesting herbivore. If anything, he keeps you around because you're amusing and he likes using you for sex. If you know how to take advantage of good things, your relationship with Leona will become very give and take. It's important to note that, though you may annoy him at times, he never raises a hand to you or snaps at you or treats you cruelly. Leona respects you a lot, even if he never admits it outright, and he knows just how admirable it is for you to be able to take on the roles expected of a bride. He supposes that, after spending so much time with you, he's come to tolerate you. (In Leona language, that means he likes you. <3)

Azul is all business, so he views your relationship with him as a mutually beneficial transaction (i.e. he's rather distant with you and only does what's expected in a bride-husband relationship: the bare minimum). To be crudely blunt, he knocks you up and provides you with a comfortable environment and everything else a pregnant bride would need and in return you give him children, company, a reason to boast to other compounds about his sweet, healthy, always-pregnant bride. It's a lovely deal made even better when you take into account how truly lonely he really is. Azul's married to his work, so he never has time for relationships outside of compound leader duties. But his connection with you forces him to make a conscious effort to build something wonderful and everlasting, and he's always been a secret romantic at heart. It's no surprise when he finds himself considering you from new angles, no longer viewing you as a contractual obligation but rather as his bride to love forever and always. You may hate him; you may love him, or you might be indifferent on the matter. But one thing is very clear: Azul won't let anyone else have you.

Kalim treats you like you are the sun, the moon, and the entire universe all wrapped into a single person. He simply adores you, and he'll spoil you rotten even if he hardly knows you. Living as Kalim's bride is arguably the easiest and most comfortable compared to the other compounds. Kalim ensures you're fed the most delicious meals and snacks, you're given the warmest, nicest-smelling baths, and that your clothes are always tailored to fit you wonderfully (including the maternity wear that you'll eventually fill into). It can be overwhelming to receive such genuine care and respect from him when times are so uncertain and the world beyond the compound is dangerous. You suspect there's more going on behind the scenes, but why should you bother worrying when Kalim is always taking such good care of you? It's a normal relationship for the most part. You just can't leave, you're bound to Kalim forever now, and you're expected to have lots of children. But then that's the new normal of the world. Nothing can be done to change that, right? :)

Vil is critical of you. He always is with everything in his life. After all, even in an apocalypse, he will look and act his best and most beautiful! So it's natural he would want you to reflect your own natural beauty. Though that may seem like he's overly scrutinizing or even strict when it comes to your diet and what you do in your free time... Truthfully, Vil just wants you to lead a happy, healthy life, and since you're his bride he wants you to be able to revel in the wondrous glow pregnancy will bestow upon you. Vil also has schedules he sticks to. He expects you to follow the one he prepares specifically for you, which means you're expected to eat healthy foods and snacks, exercise alongside him, allow him to prepare you for pregnancy, and so on. Even though it's overwhelming and tiring, Vil does care for you quite a bit. It may be hard to see when he's scolding you for sneaking unhealthy snacks or trying to sleep in when you're meant to join him on a morning jog, but he just wants you to be at your best!

Idia neglects you. A lot. He only agreed to take a bride because it's what's expected and his parents wouldn't stop not-so-subtly bringing it up when he'd check in with them on occasion. It didn't help that Ortho was in his ear talking so excitedly about how he can't wait for his brother to find a special someone who he can settle down with! Idia has no interest in you, preferring to spend his days playing games or working on side projects. He lets you do your own thing so long as it doesn't cause any troubles for the compound, and if anyone hounds him about how he ought to start sleeping with you Idia complains and complains. He's not interested in 3D. It would be so much better to just fuck an anime girl in VR...or something. If you're really so desperate to be filled, the doctors can just inseminate you and he'll never have to come within touching distance. But of course his opinion will change when he finally looks at you rather than through you and begins to truly consider a real relationship with you. And since you're all his, you'll have no choice but to accept him whether you want him or not. It's really such a good cheat code!

Malleus is new to this sort of relationship. He was most likely your friend before your husband, as he values the sentimental nature of relationships forged over time. He wouldn't choose just anyone, and he feels drawn to you the most so of course it's no surprise when he takes you as his bride. Malleus is suffocating, always hovering you (even more so when you're carrying his clutch), but he just can't help it. He loves to be around you, to feel your presence, to be wrapped up in your warmth. He is so infatuated with you and everything that you are, and he doesn't spare you of the compliments, showering you with them in the quiet private of his bed chambers, whispering them into your skin like prayer. Malleus is sweet and gentle with you, and he's very protective of you. If he can't accompany you, then you'll find yourself in Silver or Sebek's care. Like Kalim, having Malleus as a husband isn't terrible. He wants you to like him for him, and he wants you to be comfortable. But since you were friends (and still are) before becoming husband and wife, he's much more familiar to you and that helps in fostering a stronger bond.

Neige loves, loves, loves you!!! He's so head over heels. The two of you probably met by pure chance. Maybe you delivered his laundry to him or you served him a meal once, but in Neige's eyes that was when your fairytale began. It was a chore to track you down, but once Neige finds you he's quick to make you his bride. He's so blinded by love and willing to do anything and everything for you that it can often feel so stifling. He never gets angry with you, and he's so patient. Even if you might fight him, he remains devoted, hopeful that one day you'll be able to see his perspective. He wants to build such a nice family with you so that this fairytale can have its happily ever after. Even if getting there means he has to be a little nasty and deceitful, he'll do whatever it takes. After all, love is always stronger than hate! You might not like him now, but soon you will. All it takes is time.

Che'nya thinks you're so fun to play with. He's always been mischievous, so it's highly likely he was visiting you during your shifts in the compound. Sometimes it was to bother you by swiping laundry you were folding and dancing around the room while invisible, chuckling at your attempts to snatch it back. Other times it was to simply watch you in secret, noting how you interact with other brides, how you look after the children, how you spend extra time in the kitchens trying to teach yourself new recipes. Che'nya is rather impulsive in his decision to take you as his bride, but he doesn't regret it! The way he treats you doesn't change one bit. If anything, he's even more attached to you than he was before, and since you're all his now he gets to have so much fun filling you up every single night.

Rollo has views that are very...dated. You're not sure if he even likes you; he's always frowning and scowling, and he never smiles genuinely at you (or at anything or anyone unless it's to put on an act). He needs you as much as you need him (if it's for the sake of breeding for repopulation, that is). He's not as strict as Riddle, though. So long as there is order and you're obedient in following traditions, he's fairly tame in your relationship. Like Riddle, you also have to warm up to Rollo and he has to warm up to you. But perhaps he's long since warmed up to you and you have no idea. He's considerably sweeter in private, and if you're on good terms with him (i.e. you haven't given him any reasons to severely dislike you), he treats you well. Of course this kind treatment is as much of a blessing as it is a shackle. You're still expected to follow the traditions of the compound, and it's non-negotiable that you'll bear his children.

#twisted chit chat #twst apocalypse au #yandere twst

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neuroticbookworm · 9 months

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La Pluie: Fuck Destiny, Communication is Key

I’m a full week late to the party because I was watching I Told Sunset About You last week and my mind just refused to focus on anything else. And now I’m finally here to write a send-off post to my beloved La Pluie, which gave me one of the most satisfying and interactive TV show experiences of my life.

I’ve been singing praises for this show’s writing for weeks now, and what better way for me to say goodbye to the show than by analyzing two immaculately written getting-back-together scenes from the finale?

Lomfon and Tien

When we last saw Lomfon in the penultimate episode, he apologized to Tai for kissing him in the rain and effectively kick-starting this whole mess. We also saw how he has worked through his feelings and understands that whatever he felt for Tai is not love; it was only rooted in Tai’s goodwill towards him, a few shared traits between him and Tai, and the fact that Tai saved his life by pushing him out of the way of a moving vehicle (a 15 second interaction, I will never get over this insanity). And Lomfon says that all this experimentation has made it clear to him where his heart actually lies.

And now, in the finale, Lomfon is working on the script for his “A Message from the Heart” project and seeking advice from Pingpong. We see that he fully understands how much he has hurt Tien with his actions. He tells Pingpong “I messed up so much that if I were him, I would never forgive myself”. Tien overhears them and confronts Lomfon, demanding to know if he’s messing with him. “Say it”, he shouts. But Lomfon does not respond, instead insisting that he will “show him with his actions”. And Tien walks away.

This is where I realized that this show is gonna really dig in its heels and fully emphasize how much open and honest communication matters in a relationship. Love can be expressed in so many different ways, and a person’s love language is definitely unique and significant to them. But when words are DEMANDED from you, you must respond with them. You cannot work around the painful and brutal honesty that is needed to form those thoughts, and the strength and bravery needed to stand in front of the person and utter those words.

That’s why Tien walks away from Lomfon when he insists that he will “show him” instead. And that’s why he leaves the room when Lomfon’s project video starts playing. Bear in mind, as far as Tien is concerned, Lomfon still likes his brother. Lomfon has not clarified or explained anything that would justify why Tien was on that presentation screen. So when he asks demands Lomfon, and Lomfon once again tells him that he showed his heart through his actions, Tien turns to walk away. It’s when he finally opens his mouth and starts verbalizing his desire, his fears, his confusion, and his guilt, Tien stops and listens. And when Lomfon asks him what Tien feels in his heart and if he still wants to follow it, Tien finally turns around and kisses him (I will be forever obsessed with the tippy toes).

gif by @liyazaki

I adore the fact that this show never outright rejects any form of expressing love. While Tien rejected actions from Lomfon before he made his intentions clear with words, we see that after Lomfon’s confession, Tien feels no qualms in resorting to a grand and sweeping gesture, like an intense kiss that definitely popped Lomfon’s foot (the foot pop is not purely a physical act, it is a state of mind, The Princess Diaries analogy is still right and valid, I will take no critiques).

Patts and Tai

The road to redemption for Tai is much longer and harder than it was for Lomfon, and the show fully leaned into it and showed us the weight of emotional turmoil Tai must endure to finally earn forgiveness from Patts. We see him have an epiphany about how his lack of communication with Patts mirrors his mom’s approach with him (@lurkingshan). We see him finally talk to Dream, who reiterates that Patts liked Tai before he knew that they were soulmates. And we see Tai take the leap of faith and catch a flight to Chiang Mai to find Patts. My love for this show grew to uncontrollable levels when it did not let Tai find Patts immediately.

He roams the streets, day after day, trying to find the love of his life. And when he comes back to his room every evening, exhausted and alone, he sits in the dark and contemplates how painfully lonely it feels to find and communicate with someone, when your efforts don’t seem to move the needle at all. And realizing this is exactly how Patts must’ve felt in the two years of silence Tai decided to put him through. He meets Art and Phueng, who teach him, yet again, just how important it is to talk and listen to each other in a relationship. And finally, on Day 4 of his quest, Tai runs into Patts on the streets of the local marketplace.

When Tai sees Patts, Patts looks like the mere husk of the man he once was. And Tai wastes no time and starts talking immediately, asking Patts to stay silent so this time, he can be the one who speaks out his love for him. Tai admits that he was stupid and selfish in their relationship. He says “Love is about two people. It does not need destiny to pave”. And he finally, finally says “I love you, Patts. I don’t care if it rains or not. I do love you no matter what happens”. And we see Patts wrap Tai into his body and promise to never let go of him again.

gif by @liyazaki

Now, I have to stop and give Title Tanatorn all the flowers in the world for his outstanding performance in this episode (and the show as a whole). He made me feel Tai’s soul-crushing pain and sadness, and also soothed my tender and bruised heart in the span of mere minutes. This scene was the culmination of Tai’s character development arc. He went from a guy who felt so jaded about love and relationships that he had been ghosting his soulmate for two whole years, to a guy who stood weeping in the middle of the road, pouring his heart out to Patts who only wanted Tai to love him back the way he loved him. And Title Tanatorn fucking nailed it.

And Pee Peerawich is no slouch either, as my boo @wen-kexing-apologist has already established, here. In the finale, he delivers a sublime, understated performance that does not take the spotlight away from Tai, while also perfectly reflecting Patts’ emotions on his face during Tai’s confession. These actors are so incredibly talented and did everything they can to augment the brilliant work of the writers of this show. Y’all have my attention, Tanachot Prapasri and Fuke Teerapat. I will diligently show up to watch your future works, even if it’s just your grocery lists dramatized into a TV show (shoutout to @so-much-yet-to-learn, who, when I voiced this statement, immediately and unironically piped up “Have you heard of this show called Ingredients?”. My BL buddies are hilarious as fuck and I will never be not impressed by the lengths Thai BLs would go to sell stuff to the masses).

Finally, I want to focus on a moment in the finale that kinda threw me off at first but, as the days passed, slowly grew into its significance. Dream tells Tai that Patts left with one last message: “I believe in soulmates. Saengtai is my soulmate”. Isn’t that.. weird? We know that Patts has openly stated before in this show that he wanted to defy destiny, and how his love for Tai is not just because he is his soulmate. For him to state this in the final episode seemed like an odd writing choice.

But, in the final voiceover, the show tells us (through Tai’s voice) that no one chooses to find an answer (to the hearing-loss-soulmate phenomenon) anymore. Instead, the people in this world are choosing to attribute whatever meaning they want to it. We have seen Patts say that Tai is his soulmate many times throughout this show, but he doesn’t mean it in its traditional sense; he means “I love Saengtai and I believe that I can’t live without him, which makes him my soulmate”. He paves his own way, and earnestly believes that Tai is his soulmate not just because they can hear each other when it rains, but because Tai understands and completes him and they find happiness in each other's company. In short: Fuck Destiny.

Since we were teased with a setup for a potential second season, I want to wrap up this post with a smattering of potential scenarios that have borrowed into my brain:

@bengiyo gleefully pointed out that when Lomfon suggests that he and Tien wait for another five minutes before going back into the classroom, so Tien won’t be forced to watch his embarrassingly sappy video, more than five minutes has already passed since they had walked out. Which means that Lomfon made a 10+ minutes long video of just Tien being cute and giggly and adorable. I love this over-the-top, madly-in-love Lomfon and I better get many, many more moments of him being pathetically sappy about Tien in the next season

I want the Patts-Saengnuea moment recreated beat by beat, including the sunglasses flip. If I don’t see Saengnuea on his tippy toes, menacingly lean into Lomfon’s ear and threaten him with bodily harm if he ever hurts his little brother, then what’s even the fucking point?

The comedic potential of Lomfon being forced to socialize with Patts, while he tries to make himself as small and unassuming as physically possible is a treasure trove and must be treated by the writers as such. The possibilities are endless. Warun and Saengchan would be menaces, trying to cook up situations that would force them together. Tai and Tien would act exasperated, while secretly enjoying the shenanigans. Gimme all of it.

My experience of watching this show is indelibly tied to all the wonderful metas I read here. The sense of community around this show’s discourse was incredible and a joy to be part of. Thank you to all the amazing humans who decided to be very not-chill and not-normal about this show: @bengiyo, @shortpplfedup, @ginnymoonbeam, @wen-kexing-apologist, @liyazaki, @respectthepetty, @syrena-del-mar, @chickenstrangers, @rocketturtle4, @williamrikers, @shouldiusemyname, @sunshinechay, @slayerkitty, @indigostarfire, @iguessitsjustme and I know I’m missing many more, sorry! And a special, with-cherries-on-top shoutout to @lurkingshan for putting the La Pluie meta roundup together, and encouraging people to participate in the discourse. Peace out, homies! And as always, FUCK DESTINY!

gif by @ueasking

#la pluie #la pluie series #la pluie the series #la pluie meta #pattstai #patts x saengtai #lomfontien #tien x lomfon #title tanatorn #pee peerawich #suar kritsanaphong #copter nuntapong

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roryintheir90s · 5 months

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tell us more about the dogwarts jimmy au?? 👀

Okay, this might be a little long because I'm obsessed with them.

So, I've already spoken about them, even made a short drabble of this AU. I kind of plan on making a full-fledged fanfiction, but that's still a question mark if I'll actually do it, and I do want to figure out everything before I start writing,

Everything I've said of the Au can be seen under the #Dogwards Canary Au

There's also this fanfiction of them that StarpulseSJ (idk their tumblr, so I will link the ao3) wrote, so I will link it up too. -> Teach me how to love...

That out of the way, I will first give short summaries for those that don't want to go through my Dogwards Canary Tag, which I think people should, cough cough.

Anywho...

Right now, I could make it into 3 parts:

Part 1: Jimmy arriving at Dogwards, asking for help. Unsure and all wound up. Martyn is the one to greet him at the doors, still angry and spiteful at the other for rejecting him, being his second choice... second to Scott... Seeing the unwillingness to help from Martyn, Jimmy is about to leave when Ren makes his way to them, seeing if everything's alright. Hesitantly, Ren agrees to take Jimmy in, tending to his wounds and feeding him.

Part 2: Jimmy can feel Ren's careful but secure hands on him as the other wraps up bandages on his arm. It calms Jimmy's nerves. Martyn and Ren could feel something wasn't right, that Jimmy wasn't willing to speak about. Neither of them pushed. But both of them unspokenly agreed that they, for sure, need to keep Jimmy away from Scott. Jimmy, on the other hand, despite running away from Scott, couldn't get him out of his mind, wondering whether his husband is good and well.

Part 3: It has been days, but neither Ren nor Martyn threw Jimmy out, despite the other being sure that they would get rid of him at any chance they got. To add to it, Jimmy keeps having headaches after his last death and phantom feelings of fire on his body. Martyn keeps checking on Jimmy, but it is clear that Martyn didn't let go of his anger towards the other for rejecting him. Their conversation got cut short as Martyn started to hear loud voices, which got him even more concerned, hearing Ren shout at someone. He nearly ran out but decided to peek out the corner to where he assumed the unwelcome guests are as Jimmy stood next to him. The unwelcome guests were, in fact, the desert duo plus Scott. Martyn panicked and pushed Jimmy further into the room away from them before making his way to the group that has been pretty much arguing with Ren.

Some of my thoughts on it. Generally, my writing at the start of it wasn't great; it still isn't. But to be fair, I never expected it to be anything bigger than me mentioning some stuff about silly thoughts I had. But now, it turned into a full-out AU. Nevertheless, I don't think writing needs to be great at the moment because I'm just outlining my thoughts on the AU.

Some things though that I want to definitely bring more light to are how Scott might not have outright beaten Jimmy in that AU for it to be full-out torture. I just want to flesh out how abuse doesn't necessarily have to be brutal for it to BE abuse and mistreatment of another person. Scott didn't make Jimmy's whole life miserable. But he kept mistreating him, whether through words, disrespect, or pushing him around like he's nothing, disregarding him. But every time Jimmy would get even the slightest courage to stand up for himself, Scott would be nice, loving, and caring.

This is one of the textbook things abusers usually do. They treat you like shit, but then treat you nicely, displaying cold and hot behavior, which is HUGELY manipulative.

Also, wanted to shed light on how despite Jimmy taking a huge step in getting himself out of the situation, he still cares for Scott, loves him in the worst way possible because loving an abuser isn't supposed to be love, and Jimmy won't get through it for a LONG time. Since people forget that more often than not, just a few times telling someone "in love" that their partner didn't deserve them or is bad for them doesn't work.

There's also a light mention of Jimmy feeling phantoms of his death. Everyone on their red life feels that. It's a constant reminder that if they die, they're gone, which I also want to make this specific topic into one of Jim's and Ren's bonding moments. This is supposed to be a slow burn, so no one's gonna jump the gun into the relationship. They need to become friends before they become lovers, LMAO.

On the other hand, Martyn is definitely going to struggle with Jimmy choosing Scott over him for a good while. He remembers Evo; most of the people remember their past servers to some degree. Not everything, but some. Martyn remembers Jimmy and him being partners, which hurts him a lot.

That is also because of my take on Martyn. Martyn is a loyal person in some sense. You SHOULD keep him at arm's length because he WILL betray you at some point. But that point only comes when there's nowhere else to go, no more things to do. <- Martyn died because Scar killed Ren in the 3rd life. The smart thing would have been to run away and hide, but he charged at Scar because he killed Ren. <- Martyn "betrayed" Scott and Impulse, only at the end when he had no more enemies and the only way for him to win back there was to take the life of his teammate. <- To put a nice red bow on it. Even in Secret Life, Martyn has been loyal. Jimmy betrayed him, but even now, Martyn keeps thinking of Jim and still calling him HIS big dog.

Another thing that I love to point out is Jimmy becoming a little cold to Martyn and Ren, especially Martyn after part 3. That's because Martyn pushed him. While for Martyn, it was a way to protect Jimmy from danger, Jimmy got reminded of what Scott would do to him, which obviously would put some distance in Jimmy's behavior towards the other.

I haven't figured everything out, especially with Ren, but I am not going to leave Ren hanging. My dude also needs some problems, and I'm gonna make sure he has some XD while that might sound horrible; it's because I don't want Ren to be seen as the "negotiator" or a 3rd wheel. That just isn't realistic at all to me.

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crisiscutie · 8 months

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Random Sephthought

Instead of being teleported to HoS verse during the Nibelheim Incident, imagine that C.C. Sephiroth was instead teleported to the Domestic AU, waking up in a flower field... I wrote a drabble/scenario detailing how that would go.

Content Warning: Mommy Kink. Antsy and Clingy Yandere Sephy. Sephiroth says "Mother" A LOT.

When the broken Sephiroth realized that his reunion with his "Mother" had been disrupted, he became enraged. He began rampaging through the beautiful field of flowers where he had awakened. The commotion caught the attention of the Domestic Darling, who came rushing out of the cottage. She was taken aback to see her husband in such a state of rage. She called out to him, but he didn't respond and continued his rampage.

As the darling drew near, she wrapped her arms around him, hoping to calm him down. However, to her surprise, he felt a twisted sense of pleasure, and his lips curved into a sadistic grin. Suddenly, a throbbing headache consumed him, overwhelming his senses. Despite his resistance, he found himself inexplicably drawn towards her.

After the headache subsided, Sephiroth's eyes flickered with a maniacal glee as he turned to look at the pregnant darling. Suddenly, the strange pull he felt towards her made sense now! She was his dear "Mother"!

He lifted her up into his arms, embracing her tightly. "Mother! I missed you so much..." he exclaimed. While darling was delighted to see her beloved Sephiroth, she couldn't help but be troubled by the destruction of the beautiful flower fields behind their cottage. Furthermore, his appearance, as if he had gone without food and sleep for days, puzzled her. It didn't make any sense. She had seen him looking well just this morning???

She lovingly cupped his face, asking about the last time he ate and slept.

"There is nothing wrong, Mother!" he exclaimed, gazing adoringly at her. His eyes somehow beamed even brighter as he spoke. The darling shook her head, insisting that he needed to eat and sleep.

"Why would I eat, when I have you? Why would I sleep, when I can stay awake with you? You are all I need, Mother... Never again, will we be apart," He spoke with a childlike eagerness, desperate for her love.

Now, the darling knew that something wasn't right, as she couldn't understand why her husband was calling her "mother" in a sweet yet ominous tone, especially outside of the bedroom. And his outright refusal to eat or sleep was a clear indication of his distress.

As a wandering neighbor walked by, she called out to them and began waving as she approached. Sephiroth's initial sweet and loving grip on the darling turned aggressive and possessive, consumed once again by feelings of rage and overwhelming hatred. This "reunion" had been interrupted far too many times.

Thus, a gruesome scene unfolded as Sephiroth swiftly summoned his Masamune, bringing an end to the poor neighbor woman who had gotten too close to them. Darling could only watch in horror as blood splattered all over her.

Sephiroth whispered to her, his expression shifting back to a twisted, possessive love. "No one else will get between us, ever again, Mother~." The poor darling couldn't find any words, scrutinizing the dissected corpse in front of her. Her whimpers tinged with sorrow as he gently squeezed her hip.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore, Mother. I have eliminated the human parasite. And I won't allow anyone else near you." He embraced her once more, his gaze drifting down to her large, swollen belly. A look of euphoria mixed with a hint of envy and jealousy spread across his face as he lovingly stroked it, tracing the stretch marks...

I guess you can consider this an alternate AU proposal xD

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theunbearableweightofpedropascal · 7 months

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Kinktober entry #1

Pairing: Dark!Blaise Zambini x Hufflepuff!Reader

Kink: Monster F*cking

A/N: I think I'll do Roderick next. And let's pretend the wizarding war didn't happen yet, for the plot😁.

Warnings: p in v, oral sex, blood purist ideologies, somewhat obsessive behavior, possible dub-con.

Summary: Blaise takes after his mother much more than he cares to admit.

Word Count: 2k

It was well-known how convincing Blaise’s mother could be. One dead husband is unfortunate, two is a tragic coincidence, but three is a pattern. So far she had seven dead husbands and all their riches to show for it, and one would think that men would steer clear. But that is the weakness of men they just can’t resist a woman as beautiful as Madeline.

The truth about her deadly nature is that she is a descendant of a family full of Succubi. Each generation before her strangely only had daughters and thus their gifts were always passed down. Madeline was the first to have a baby boy, and as he grew older it was hard to tell if he inherited the gift.

At first, she watched his behavior like a hawk looking for the signs that her mother saw in her. Soon she realized that he was the first boy and there was a chance he’d manifest his powers differently. When it was time to send him to Hogwarts she was fairly confident that he didn’t take after her side.

Growing up Blaise had gotten used to men coming and going, and he never judged his mother for her unconventional lifestyle. But the older he got the more questions he had and it wasn’t like he could outright ask his mother. How does one go about asking why mommy’s husbands keep dying? So he did what he did best, watch.

He didn’t really remember the first three husbands because he didn’t feel the need to pay attention to them. However, the last four husbands he observed with a notebook. By the time their deaths happened it was almost like they just gave up, their vitality was sucked right out of them. On their wedding day, they would be full of life and joy but on their death bed they were pale with sunken cheeks. A fraction of who they once were.

Blaise is a smart boy, and while he completed his first year of studies at Hogwarts he looked up the type of creatures that could have such an effect. By the time he returned to his mother’s villa for summer in Italy, he knew exactly what she was. The question on his mind was if he too held that same kind of power.

In year four he started to see his effect on the girls around him. They would send love letters and cookies laced with love potions. He would throw them all out, not wanting to choose the wrong girl. He had no idea how to tell who the right girl would be but he was a patient person. By the time year 6 rolled around, he spent most of his time at Hogwarts observing the viable partners for him, eliminating muggle-borns and blood traitors. He wanted his bloodline to remain strong and carry the gifts of his lineage.

All his patience led him straight to you, a bright-eyed Hufflepuff that couldn’t possibly know what the touch of a man felt like. Blaise noticed you through the years, a teacher’s pet that was made into a prefect. So eager to please the professors, he couldn’t wait until he was on the receiving end. You would be pliable and unlike his mother, he would cherish you. He found that there was a balance in these types of relationships.

The moment he decided to pounce was when he went to the astronomy tower hoping for some alone time only to find you. There you sat peacefully with your notebook. Though he wouldn’t mind looking at you all night that’s all he had thus far.

“Great minds think alike.” His voice startled the silence you were enjoying. “I like to come up here for peace too.”

“Oh, I was just about to leave.” You stand and walk over to the stairs to give him space but he steps in front of you.

“That’s not necessary love.” Despite his reputation around school, you find his eyes inviting.

“What brought you up here?” Since it’s just the two of you there was no point sitting in silence.

“Trying to fend off some of my more belligerent suitors.” Blaise leaned against the railing and looked out at the expansive land surrounding Hogwarts.

“Must be hard having so many women falling at your feet.” The sarcasm that laces your voice brings a small smile to his face. He was going to enjoy you.

“Not when you don’t want to entertain any of them.” He grimaces as he thinks of some of the unwanted advances. As much as he appreciated the power his mother gifted him, it had its downsides.

“Ah, I forgot I was talking to a blood purist with high standards.” As alluring as you find him his ideologies bring you back to reality. You may not be muggle-born but you didn’t subscribe to blood hierarchy.

“What other people do is their business, but I prefer non-muggle-born witches.” Blaise feels you coming closer, unable to resist his charms.

“Except when those beliefs cause innocent deaths.” You turn to fully face him while you call out his nonchalant demeanor.

“I don’t agree with killing muggles if that’s what you’re implying,” His hand traces its way up your arm before lifting your chin. “I would simply have my wife bear as many pure-blooded children as possible.”

His words, as disgustingly purist as they are, cause your heart to speed up in excitement. The thought of carrying his children sounds appealing. Now all you can think about is him pumping his seed into until it takes. Your thighs rub together in an attempt to quell the pleasure his words give you. Almost as if you were under a spell you follow him as he guides you away from the railing and backs you into the wall.

“Are you gonna be my sweet little wife that takes every last drop I give you?” His low voice is in your ear while his hands travel all over your body. The rapid rise and fall of your chest makes it hard for you to speak so you nod your head eagerly at his question.

Blaise takes your answer as a promise and begins to kneel in front of your core. Even with him below you, he holds all the power. His hands travel up your skirt to gently pull down your panties as he makes eye contact with you. For the first time, you don’t find yourself wanting to break it.

He raises your skirt enough to put his head under it, as he kisses his way up your inner thighs he wraps your left leg over his shoulder. You almost jolt off the wall when his lips wrap around your clit and suck. The small moans that leave your mouth increase in volume when his tongue works in tandem with his lips.

With nothing to grab onto you throw your head back against the wall and let your arms run along the wood panel. The scratch marks that are bound to be left when he’s finished are no worry of yours. His tongue drags along your clit in the most delicious way that you can’t help when your hips begin to buck.

Blaise’s deep-seated hunger is insatiable upon hearing the sweet noises leaving your mouth. He revels in your hips bucking into his mouth demanding more, and he would give you anything. Your eyes roll back as the pressure that sits in your belly builds, your body has a mind of its own chasing after his mouth.

“Blaise,” you say his name like a prayer and he groans into your pussy sending your orgasm hurdling through you. The volume of your screams doesn’t matter, nothing except for his mouth coaxing you through the euphoric waves being sent through your body. Gently he places your leg back down on the ground but keeps a firm grip on your legs.

His captivating face was glistening from the moonlight that poured into the tower. As soon as he stood to his full height you wrapped your arms around his neck before planting your lips on his. The taste of you on his lips only spurred you on, a ravenous need for more enveloped you. He knew exactly what you needed and he had no problem obliging you.

The smacking of your lips working together causes you to almost miss the sound of his zipper and belt being undone. Sinful moans transfer from your mouth to his as he hoists you up against the wall, with your skirt bunched around your waist. His strength surprises you but you don't have much time to dwell when you feel him dragging himself between your lips.

“Please.” While begging for more your hands dig into Blaise’s shoulders.

“I knew you would be the one.” His confession is overshadowed by him finally slipping into you. He exhales a relieved groan the further he sinks himself in you. The way he stretches your walls little by little has you incoherently babbling nonsense. Blaise cradles his head in the curve of your neck as he rocks into you at an increasing pace. His rough hands grip your waist which is surely going to leave bruises tomorrow but you can’t find focus enough to care.

So many of the girls in your year talked about how their boyfriends couldn’t get them off. Not with fingers, mouth, or their dick. But Blaise is intoxicating and all you can think about is how his pelvis is rubbing your clit perfectly. You can feel him panting on your neck and you feel yourself clenching around him.

Unlike the first one your second orgasm doesn’t have a build-up, it blossoms after one of his deeper strokes. His hips lose their consistent speed and you know he’s close. When he spills his seed into you he keeps you in his arms, needing to make sure it took. You were so unaware you ended up falling asleep while you laid your head on his shoulder.

Blaise gave it five minutes before he finally put you down and put your panties back on you. Since he just fed off of you he had no doubt he would be able to apparate to your dorm. He was at an all-time high as he carefully placed you in bed. He found a clean washcloth and wiped you up as much as he could before tucking you in.

…….

In the dining hall, you sat in the Hufflepuff section waiting for your friends to join you. Waking up this morning was so peaceful, you slept like the dead. The nasty memories of last night had you smiling all through your beauty routine. You practically skipped to the dining room and gained some odd looks for your apparent happiness.

A hand wrapped around your waist before two legs were facing your side. Blaise swoops down beside you and kisses your cheek without hesitation. Words were halted at the display of affection, although Blaise had all the girls at Hogwarts swooning he never gave them the time of day.

“What are you doing?” You keep your eyes focused on him to avoid looking at the hundreds of eyes staring at you.

“I can’t look at my girlfriend?” His declaration of your relationship has your face burning. He can see the surprise on your face and tells you, “I thought I made my intentions with you clear last night.”

The devoted smile on your face as you look at him reassures him he chose the right girl.

When it’s time for you to come with him to his mother's estate in Italy she is surprised, but welcoming. She never thought Blaise would get into a relationship anytime soon. After talking with the two of you it was clear as day, that same smile was present on her previous husband’s faces. She wasn’t sure if she should be scared for you or thrilled for her son, but ultimately the excitement of the grandbaby clouded her vision.

#blaise zabini x female reader #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini imagine #harry potter #slytherin #slytherpuff #hufflepuff #monster #tw monsterfucking #monster fucker #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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jedifarmerr · 10 months

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Wasteland Masterlist

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader/OFC (established backstory, no y/n or physical descriptions)

Summary: Sentenced to a life underground after a nuclear attack, what was said to be a quick and painless process somehow ended up taking 200 years. Waking up alone with everyone else still frozen, a search for help and answers turns upside down when four mysterious men come into the picture.

Rating: E (warnings: language, food & eating, mentions of death.)

Word Count: 5k

Chapter 10

Frankie watched her relief morph into confusion as Preston went over the Council’s stipulations. She was clearly not expecting this. Perhaps, they should’ve told her outright why they started calling her Blue, but she never questioned it. Never even mentioned it aside from a slightly confused look.

He assumed she understood, but it seemed she thought the alias was more temporary, rather than possibly permanent.

They knew that if people found out the truth about her it’d tear through the Commonwealth like a grass fire. Uncontrollable. Unpredictable. One big mouth and within a month, Jamaica Plains would be roaring with the news.

The chances of Vault-Tec catching wind of it was slim, but not impossible. Even a 1% chance posed too much risk. Sanctuary would seriously be fucked. That wall would be as worthless as wet mud against an all-out synth brigade.

Truthfully, Frankie was more concerned about her safety. He wasn’t an idiot, and definitely not a hypocrite. He could realize she’d be a hard sell to some – people like Tom, who wouldn’t take the word of a Vault-Tec employee’s kid. Everyone knew those people would want concrete proof, some hard evidence that they didn’t quite have just yet. Without it, there would be riots demanding her head on a stake, and there was bound to be one crazy enough to take matters into their own hands.

Frankie wasn’t gonna let that happen. She was their responsibility.

“Do you accept?” Preston finally asked her and the room went still and quiet as a tomb. She gnawed on her bottom lip, toying with the hem of her shirt.

The red rug she stood upon was like her own little island. She looked so lost in the center of the room. So helpless and small and so utterly alone that it made his skin feel tight. He supposed - she was alone in this world. Everyone she loved was either dead and gone or deceived her. Her entire life was one big facade. She must’ve been so fed up with all these secrets and lies and cover ups.

For a moment he worried she might say no, but she inevitably folded. She nodded and he didn’t know if she thought there was much of a choice. This was so much bigger than her - than all of them. He wondered when Tom would finally realize that.

Preston appeared to notice her distress and quickly assured her that he’d take the blame if her cover got blown. As long as her true identity didn’t leave this room, they didn’t anticipate that happening anytime soon.

If ever.

Unless they could figure out how to crack into the cryogenic pods, she would always be Blue. If her and her dad were as close as she said, then he’d be desperate to find her. The synths in Lexington had been looking for her, after all. Somebody had noticed she was missing from the vault.

In order to avoid any suspicion, she would need to integrate herself into Sanctuary immediately. There would be no special treatment. Just like everyone else, she would need a job.

Stable hand? Greenhouse worker? Waitress at the town tavern? No - no - no. Each one was axed for one reason or another.

Suddenly, Tom cleared his throat, his eyes fell on Frankie.

“What about your mom?” he asked – challenged. “Last I heard, no one’s taken Susan’s spot since she retired.”

Frankie’s mouth watered, he nearly spat the sour taste in his mouth onto the cheap lino tile. He could not believe Tom was using his mom as bait. Out of anyone, Tomy knew how protective Frankie was of her, how tender a spot that was, and yet…

Whether to prove his point or get his way, Frankie didn’t know Tom’s motive, but either way it was low, even for Tom.

No - especially for Tom. As if bringing up his dad wasn’t enough, Tom had gone for the jugular.

Preston straightened, his chair howling through the hall. He hesitated before saying, “It is just your mom and Yovanna. If they did catch onto anything, I’d trust they’d be discreet.”

“Exactly.” Tom’s chin cut through the air. “Whaddaya say Fish?”

Frankie looked at Blue, and she gave him a weak smile. She expected him to say no, he realized. She’d even seemed to accept it, and he instantly felt bad. Even though he had his reasons, he’d been the least welcoming, by far.

Everyone on the Council was staring at him – Tom’s gaze was searing. Usually, Frankie would back down to him. He could tell Tom thought he would concede here, as well. And three weeks ago, Frankie would’ve without question. He would’ve said not a fucking chance – that was too far, too much, too personal.

But, everything was different now. Tom had asked if he trusted her, and he did. He meant it when he nodded.

Frankie folded his arms across his chest before saying, “Okay.”

Tom’s lips thinned with silence. He didn’t say a word, nor did he have to. Frankie could tell he was pissed – the vein on his forehead was thick and throbbing. Still, Frankie didn’t budge. Not this time.

“Is that a yes?” Preston asked – speak now or forever hold your peace.

“Yeah,” Frankie confirmed and Tom didn’t look at him again for the rest of the day.

—

That night, at the welcome home party, Preston announced there’d be a new face in town. The Council had thought it would be best to roll out the story before anyone laid eyes on her. This way, they could get ahead of it. Control the narrative, so to speak.

They had crafted up a perfect poke-proof cover story; something no one could cross-examine.

It’d been decided she would come from a survivalist bunker, way north of Diamond City. Over the years, an especially hard last few months of attacks – bloatflies, ghouls, and ants, had dwindled their numbers. By the time their unit found them, the survivors were few and mostly wounded. The entire compound was in absolute shambles. Despite their open offer, she was the only one who took them up on it. She had no reason to say, having buried the last of her family just before they arrived.

All night, Frankie had to navigate an overly curious crowd. Lost in the crush of questions, he barely had a moment to catch his breath or even catch up with the people he actually wanted to. He’d hoped for more than a few seconds alone with his mom to tell her about the arrangement, but instead, he’d have to tell her over breakfast.

Probably better that way. No distractions.

The next morning, Frankie arrived at his mom’s shop. Bay’s Soaps. The powder blue sign hung above a hinged glass door. He went around back, up the stairs and knocked twice before letting himself in.

Cast iron pans sizzled on the stove top. The smell of eggs, beans, and frying sausages brought back memories of his childhood. Every morning, his mom used to get up extra early just to cook him a hearty breakfast before school.

“Pollito!” His mom kissed him firmly on both cheeks. The food on her apron smeared across his worn t-shirt as she hugged him, a tad tighter than usual.

Most of the time, his missions only kept him away for a month – maybe two. Their unit in particular had a reputation for being timely, effective and efficient. It was rare for them to be more than a few days late, unless something went terribly wrong. Like that one mission over a decade ago.

Frankie shuddered, recalling the bad operation. Them, along with two other units had been sent to scope out a lead past Weymouth, but only made it as far as Quincy. Shit went south so quickly. A pack of ghouls had busted free of an apartment building. The scar that ran down Pope’s spine came from that day – a ghoul’s long fingernail, sharper than a knife, sliced him right down the middle.

He could still remember those screams – the harsh crack and wet slashing of flesh. Brutal. Bloody. A gruesome scene – three young soldiers mangled beyond recognition. Their squadron captain had insisted on bringing them home for a proper burial. They had wrapped their carcasses in dusty, dirty sheets and tied it shut with copper wire. The whole trek back, his ears had buzzed with swarming bugs.

The oven dinged and his mom pulled away with an affectionate pat on his cheek. As she finished up, he brewed them a fresh pot of coffee, poured out two cups, then took a seat.

Of course, his mom made way too much food for two people to eat. The bistro table was spread thin with heaping platters that meant days of leftovers.

“Saw Susan last night. Sounds like she’s enjoying retirement. Have you found anyone to replace her, yet?” Frankie eased into the conversation.

“No luck.” She sighed – Susan had retired even before he’d left. “You wouldn’t happen to be interested, though would you?”

Frankie chuckled, shaking his head. He shuffled the scrambled eggs on his plate with his fork. “But the new girl - Blue - she’s looking for a job.”

His mom hooked up an intrigued brow as she continued to stir a little milk into her coffee.

“I don’t think she’ll give you any problems. She’s smart, catches on quick.”

“What else’s she like?” She probed, trying to appear casual as she took the mug in both her hands and brought it to her lips. Coy, though, had never been her strong suit. Her eyes gave her away.

Frankie speared a sausage onto his fork, and ate it whole. He needed a moment to figure out how to answer that. Blue was supposed to be a girl from bumfuck, so he couldn’t say she was a spoiled brat, even though she was sometimes. He couldn’t say that she was charming or even sweet when she wanted to be without his mom getting the wrong idea. The last thing he needed was her meddling.

Still, he had to give his mom something. At least a crumb, or else she would keep hassling him until he spilled.

Frankie swallowed – shrugged.

“She’s…funny, I guess. She’s got a lot of opinions. If you let her, she’ll probably talk your ear off. She can sometimes be a little stubborn, but that might just be with me-”

“Do you two get along?” She interrupted – confused, her brows slightly knitted.

“For the most part.”

“Meaning?”

It’s complicated. “Sometimes, we get on each other’s nerves.”

She pursed her lips – eyes squinted with suspicion.

“What?”

“I swear, I better not hear that you were mean to that poor girl.” She jabbed an accusatory finger towards his chest. “Think you were raised better than that-”

Frankie scoffed, “Trust me - she’s not innocent.”

She made a face – not totally convinced. Ultimately, she waved it off. “I guess, I’ll see for myself, now. Won’t I?”

“Guess so.” He grinned then felt a pang of guilt in his chest. Even though he didn’t have much choice, he still hated lying to his mom.

He wondered how she would react if she knew who Blue really was.

—--

For a few days, you were to remain a ghost. Just long enough to give the Council time to get their ducks in a row and the story to sink in and travel.

The Welcome Home party had served as a perfect diversion, so no one had spotted you. Kasumi had been nice enough to offer up the apartment above her garage. While it wasn’t much bigger than your freshman year dorm room, at least, it didn’t smell like that weird bean soup your roommate always used to heat up in the microwave.

This place had only been vacant since this summer when Kasumi’s daughter moved out after getting married. The space wasn’t really meant for two. You supposed the tight squeeze wouldn’t be terrible for people in love, but you were holed up in here with Frankie.

Three days. He must’ve been assigned as your guard or maybe he thought you’d take off and run again if he left you alone because he barely let you out of his sight.

It was impossible to ignore him, either. You couldn’t just pretend or forget he was here when his body swallowed the doorways. He was too damn broad for this place.

The two of you fought like territorial kangaroos over the boxy kitchen. Shoulder jabs, bumping elbows, you’d snap at him whenever he got too close after the first night when he nudged you in the arm while you were stirring spaghetti sauce. It was a huge mess. Globs of red splattered over the secondhand apron, under the storm-gray cabinets and even a little on the pastel yellow walls. He claimed it was an accident, but his schoolboy snicker made you think otherwise.

In order to keep you entertained, he brought over a deck of cards, but would only play speed, which he annoyingly called Spit!

And even worse, he won 90% of the time.

After a few losing rounds, you’d pout and demand a different game. He’d taunt you, call you a sore loser until you gave him a rematch. You wanted to smack that stupid smirk off his face when he’d win again.

But for all that you cursed and griped and grouched about him, you hated even more when he left. All alone, there was no TV - no radio to fill the silence. You’d betrayed your family, and could not stop reeling with it.

What did you do? What have you done?

Second-thoughts slithered in, and you found it impossible to stop your head from spinning. You didn’t know who to trust anymore. You’d blindly believed your dad, and didn’t want to make the same mistake again.

What if these guys were wrong? What if they were the ones lying?

If you let it, these doubts would consume you. Instead of being swallowed whole by anxiety, you were intent on busying yourself.

Sadly, the bookshelves were depleted and anything left had seemingly been forgotten for good reason. However, you noticed a thick layer of dust on the encyclopedia. Underneath the sink in the kitchen, there was a basket full of rags and sponges and cleaning supplies.

You’d scrubbed every square inch and surface in this apartment until your fingertips were pruny and raw as leather. The 24-piece china set was freshly polished, the hand-painted goldfinches and delicate butterflies now shining in the spotless glass hutch. Afterwards, you’d taken to rearranging the furniture and jilted knick-knacks and leftover decor.

Frankie, much too perceptive, seemed to notice.

On your last night of temporary house arrest, he’d left to pick up dinner. 45 minutes, and multiple trinkets had shifted around the room like haunted figurines. You’d caught him eyeing the porcelain pigs on top of the mantle, the hourglass in their previous spot on the second row of a built-in shelf.

For a moment, you thought he was going to say something, but instead - he unpacked the food and laid it out on the coffee table. After dinner, he had grabbed the deck cards from the side table without mentioning the change of vase.

That night, he hung around longer than usual.

One more game. Go Fish this time. Ever play Slap Jack? Is the sink still acting funny? I’ll fix it.

He did leave, eventually. Just not until your eyelids were stuck at half-mast, your words sluggish and slurry from needing sleep.

The next morning, he was at your door bright and early, ready to take you to the first day of work.

—

You hadn’t really been able to see much of the town. Kasumi had smuggled you from the Council building at night, so you made a few things out in the dark. The windows in your apartment didn’t offer much of a view.

After Diamond City, you expected a town of steel houses. Surprisingly, Marblehead looked nearly identical to before.

As you walked in the middle of the street, you could finally scope out the cottages and colonials that still lined the narrow, windy roads. On a sunny day like this, you would’ve anticipated a traffic jam, a bad headache, but there was no honking. No SUV’s hogging up space. Not even a single car in sight.

It was peaceful. It was nice. Strange, but nice.

During the walk, Frankie explained how people got around the old-fashion way: foot, bikes, and horseback. There was even a carriage taxi service that seemed very on brand with the 18th century architecture.

Frankie led you onto the main street and you looked around at the familiar storefronts. Suddenly, you noticed everyone was staring at you. The street buzzed with whispers and glances.

There had been some lingering looks and stares in Diamond City but it was much more crowded, denser. You could slip into the masses and disappear, but not here. Your arrival had been announced, everyone was expecting you.

You averted your eyes to the cracked sidewalk, feeling very self-conscious. The insecurity reminded you of second grade when you were the new kid in school and had to stand in front of the class to introduce yourself. All the kids had stared at you. Nora had threatened to spit on them if she caught them looking too long again. For that comment, she had to walk laps at recess for the rest of the week.

These people, though, scared you more than a classroom full of eight-year-olds.

Frankie must’ve noticed them staring too since he inched closer, the hair on his arm tickled your skin and you could smell his soap in the air.

“They’re just curious,” Frankie whispered. “It’s not everyday someone new shows up.”

Still, Frankie straightened. He had on just a plain black t-shirt and jeans and still looked uncommonly intimidating. Even without a gun strapped to his back, it seemed like nobody wanted to fuck with him. He glared at one shopkeeper and it put the fear of God into them, they immediately turned away and went double-time on raising their sun-salt dull awning.

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of warmth at his protectiveness. But you supposed it was his job, after all, to keep you safe.

“Have you fought a lot of people or something?” You lightly nudged his shoulder with yours. A tiny smile toyed with his lips.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Frankie guided you into a cape cod building that was wedged between a tailor and a sub shop. It used to be a funky cafe with fancy latte art and slam poetry on Wednesday that Nora dragged you to one night.

Luckily, the soap shop didn’t smell so potent that your eyes watered like at Bath & Body Works. There was a fresh scent of lemongrass and citrus and something else flowery.

“Pollito?” A woman’s voice - his mom, you guessed - shouted from the back.

“Little chicken, huh?” You looked him over. “I see it.”

“Funny,” he grumbled when the back door swung open. It was definitely his mom.

She came and greeted him with a kiss on both cheeks, and he slung his arm around her shoulders. It was sweet, but also shocking to see him be so affectionate. At times, he’d rest his arm on Benny or Santi’s shoulder, he’d hugged Piper goodbye, but other than that, it wasn’t a side you often saw from him.

His mom fished out a pair of glasses from her apron and slipped them on. She rapidly blinked as if surprised. She looked you up and down as Frankie introduced you.

“Josefa.” She shook your hand. “But everyone calls me Pepa.” Her eyes were warm and doe-like, that same shade of earthy, dark brown as Frankie’s.

She had a perfectly round face - plump cheeks and a button nose. Truly, she was a beautiful woman, though much softer than Frankie. He must have inherited his striking, sharp angles from his father. His aquiline nose. That divot in his bottom lip. A square jaw that you swore was carved from stone. Even though he could be such a grouch, he really was quite attractive.

You wondered if you would ever meet his dad. Was he still around? Or was he long gone? You had enough common sense not to ask.

You made a turn about the shop, in particular admiring the back wall that resembled a beehive of sorts with hexagonal boxes in honey-golden wood that each stored a wicker basket brimming with a colorful assortment of soaps.

Pepa must’ve noticed you staring because she proudly boasted, “Frankie built that. And all by himself, too.”

He’d never mentioned being into carpentry, but it was clearly more than just some throwaway hobby. This was high quality.

“I gotta admit, I’m impressed.”

Frankie’s lips parted as if he couldn’t believe those words just came from you. “Is that a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

Pepa gave you a quick tour of the store. In the back, there was a kitchen with ample counter space to make soap, along with a pantry, now used for curing. The shop wouldn’t open for another hour and a half, so Yovanna had not come in yet. She was the one who did the cold-process, whereas Pepa was exclusively liquid.

For the last few months, the two of them had been splitting your job, which would be manning the counter and packaging. It seemed easy enough, given that you had worked retail, just two summers ago.

Frankie offered to stick around and help stock the shelves, just until Yovanna arrived. Pepa happily agreed, on the condition that he didn’t get in the way of your training.

She started with the register which, at first, you pretended to act clueless on how it worked. You’d pause for a few seconds as if trying to recall her instructions. Every once in a while, you’d hit the wrong button. Pepa was relieved to hear that your compound was big on education, so you knew basic math. Frankie couldn’t help but grin behind her back at your bold-face lie.

She was demonstrating how to package the soaps when Yovanna showed up. The woman was fucking gorgeous - perfectly arched eyebrows and skin as golden as Frankie’s. Her long, dark hair was pulled into low, messily braided pigtails that pretty much no one else except for her could pull off.

For some reason, you found yourself unable to look away as Frankie wrapped his big arms around her tiny frame. You could see his lips moving, but his voice was far too hushed for you to hear. His chin rested on her shoulder and he glanced up.

Shit.

Abruptly, you turned away and returned to studying Pepa’s hands.

When Yovanna finally came over, she politely introduced herself before heading into the kitchen. She was somehow even more beautiful up close.

Frankie finished up with the last few baskets before asking if you were going to be okay. Despite your thumbs up, he appeared hesitant to leave. Pepa offered him a reassuring smile, and he tugged his cap over his eyes, gave a single wave goodbye before heading out the door.

—

All morning, there were faces pressed up against the glass like you were a Saks Fifth Avenue mannequin during the holiday season.

The customers could rarely hide their surprise when you spoke in complete sentences. It was hard not to notice their furtive looks and pitiful glances, even on occasion you caught Pepa and Yovanna staring.

It seemed like despite Preston’s best attempts to make your compound sound grand - a whole neighborhood of doomsday preppers instead of a few families - everyone expected a girl with seven fingers and missing toes and teeth. Perhaps, they imagined Mystique. Or someone with a single eye like a cyclops.

Whatever they imagined, it was certainly not you.

Around lunch, you spotted Frankie outside on the sidewalk. He was storming towards the pack of teenagers peeping in through the window like an angry bull. The kids dispersed like terrified ants.

Quickly, you went back to wrapping the bar of soap in cream parchment before he could notice that you saw. He’d undoubtedly ask about them if he noticed you looking. You really didn’t want to talk about being the town freak show.

The out-of-tune bell above the door rang as you tied a perfect, hemp string bow around the soap.

He glanced around the shop - it was only you on the floor. After the morning rush died down, Pepa and Yovanna retreated into the kitchen. Soon, one of the two would wander out to check-in, as long as they heard the bell.

“Well, look who couldn’t stay away,” you said with a playful grin.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” His steps echoed over the hollow laminate floors as he moved towards you. “Just wanted to see how things were going.”

“What? Did you not have anything better to do?”

“Than this?” Frankie shook his head.

He clipped his aviators onto his shirt collar as he approached the checkout counter. His palm slid easily over the smooth butcher block - the same honey-gold as the boxes on the wall behind you. You wondered if he also made this with his own two hands, sanded it down and stained it.

Frankie’s eyes dipped over your outfit. “Nice apron.”

You huffed at his sarcasm. “I look like a Starbucks worker.”

“What the fuck is a Starbucks?”

“Coffee shop.” You pointed across the street. “There used to be one where Willy’s Good Juice is now, whatever the hell that is.”

Frankie grimaced. He wrinkled his nose like he was about to be sick. “Some advice: don’t ever drink that shit. You’ll regret it.”

“Noted.” You had the same visceral reaction when anyone mentioned Mango Burnetts.

Yovanna stepped inside the room. When her gaze landed on Frankie, she gave him a mischievous smirk. She leaned back, her body propping open the door.

“You’re right,” she yelled over her shoulder into the kitchen. “It is him.”

Frankie let out a huff of annoyance, narrowing his eyes at her as if she was his tattletaling little sister. The pointed look reminded you of Alice, though she never smiled at you afterwards. Instead, she’d call you a rat and a blabber mouth or simply a bitch, even though she was the one tormenting a kid.

She seemed to enjoy ripping up your coloring books and decapitating your stuffed animals and dolls until dad forced her to buy a new one with her own allowance.

As Pepa slid into the room, she squeezed past Yovanna, then put her hands on her hips. She looked serious, squinting at Frankie before turning to you.

“Is he bothering you?” Her tone was light - her lips twitched and there was no real malice in her eyes. She was messing with him.

“When is he not?” You asked and Frankie scoffed. He was not as much as the rest of you.

“How’re my employees suppose to do their job?” Pepa tsked her tongue at Frankie. “I swear between you and Santi.”

Santi?

You glanced at Yovanna, who was twirling her braid around her finger and giggling like a girl with a crush. Was something going on between her and Santi?

Mary had said the guys didn’t technically date, but perhaps she was wrong. After all, Will clearly had feelings for Curie, judging by the smile on his face when he saw her in the Council hallway. He’d cradled the back of her head, holding her tightly in his arms as if he could not bear to let her go. Label or not, there was something going on there.

You didn’t know about Benny, but during his visits this week, he did talk an awful lot about some guy named Keith.

You wondered - did Frankie also have someone here?

—-

Since he was already there, his mom suggested that he take Blue out for lunch – at Polly’s.

“Are you hungry?” he asked her and she shrugged.

“I could eat.” She hung up her apron, then he guided her next door into the sandwich shop.

Past the lunch rush, the narrow dining room was practically empty. Just a few people eating at the counter, who all turned and stared at her without any shame. God – what was wrong with these people? As she looked over the menu, he gave them a hard glare. Immediately, their gazes dispersed around the restaurant – to the retro wood paneled walls, mustard lino floors, and the half-eaten plates on the beige formica bar top.

After ordering at the register in the front, they found a table tucked away in a corner. His jeans scratched against the cracked leather cushion as he slid into the booth. Silently, she examined the ceramic-cow salt & pepper shakers, the out of commission tabletop jukebox and its list of songs. He would’ve asked if she knew any of them if they were alone.

The cushion squeaked as she leaned back. “So, what have you been up to today? Other than missing me, of course.”

He rolled his eyes at the last part, before answering. “Nothing really. Ran some errands – helped Pope fix up his fence. How’s work been?”

“Good. Your mom’s been great, so has Yovanna.” She glanced down at her water cup and twisted it around in circles. “Are she and Pope like a thing?”

“A thing?” What the fuck did that mean?

She snorted at his confusion. “Are they like - together?”

Frankie tilted his head from side to side as he figured out how to answer. Technically – no, they weren’t together in the traditional sense of boyfriend-girlfriend. In their line of work, it was hard to maintain a normal, healthy relationship.

His first and only girlfriend was his highschool sweetheart. Lacey. Charming Lacey with long, golden hair and dimpled cheeks. Striking summer grass eyes that had never seen the cruelty of the wasteland. She was born in the safety of the walls of Sanctuary unlike him.

After his first mission, she told him it was over. She wanted a family – a husband who would be around to help raise the kids, not someone who was constantly in-and-out, who she didn’t know whether they were alive or dead. It was almost word for word what Molly had said to Tom after she found out she was pregnant with Tess. Tom wasn’t ready to retire, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Sorta,” Frankie finally answered. “It’s complicated.”

“Same with Will and Curie?”

Frankie nodded and she hummed thoughtfully. He waited for her to push for more information, but she didn’t.

Instead, she sat silently with her hands clasped neatly on the table. Her brows slightly furrowed, appearing to be deeply in her own head. He didn’t think she had a crush on Santi or Will. At least, she never acted like it. If he had to guess anyone, it’d be Benny only because of how well they got along.

Still, something was bothering her. He’d become exceptionally well-versed in her facial expressions, her subtle and not-so-subtle shifts in mood, and with her – silence never meant anything good.

“What is it?” He nudged and she didn’t answer. She could be so goddamn obstinate. “What’re you thinking about?”

She must’ve realized he would not let this go as she let out a sigh. She glanced at him and then at the painted seahorse above his head.

“I guess I’ve started to realize how little I know about you,” she whispered. “All of you.”

“We could say the same about you.” He winced when the words left his mouth. It sounded more demining than he intended.

“It’s different and you know it. You guys have lives, all I have is…memories.” She stared down at her lap as if defeated. “None of it really matters anymore.”

“That’s not true.”

“Fine.” She harshly scoffed. “It’s irrelevant. Better?”

He shook his head in disagreement, but that was all the denial he could muster. He wouldn’t go as far as to say it didn’t matter, but it did no longer exist. The life she knew had been extinct, after all, for two centuries.

“Order 43!”

Frankie signaled for her to stay, then went and grabbed the two baskets from the bar. He plopped back down, sliced his sandwich down the middle, then did the same to hers without thinking. Wordlessly, he pushed the basket across the table to her.

“Thank you,” she said, then awkwardly lifted her sandwich up to her mouth and took a bite.

Frankie sucked a little mayo off his thumb. “So, what is it that you wanna know? About me - us?”

For a moment, she appeared stunned. Her cheeks were full – there was a drop of sauce on her lips. She licked it off, and his eyes followed the pink of her tongue.

She swallowed.

“Anything.” She shrugged. “Like, what’s your favorite color?”

“Seriously?” He snorted – out of everything.

She picked up a fry and pointed it at the center of his chest. “Judge all you want, but it can tell you a lot about a person.”

“You would think that,” he said before answering. “Green.”

“What kind of green?” There was a crisp crunch as she chomped on the fry.

This was ridiculous, but if it would make her feel better. “Dark green, forest green. What about you?”

“This might be a little cliche, but pink. Not hot pink, though. Soft pink, like cherry blossoms or peonies.”

For the rest of lunch, she continued to ask trivial questions.

Dogs or Cats: dogs.

Favorite Holiday: Christmas.

Birthday: August 23rd.

“Virgo,” she said, like suddenly everything about him made perfect sense.

She wiped her mouth with a napkin, then slurped the last of her water.

“Last one - if the world never ended, what would you’ve wanted to be?”

Easy. “A pilot.” He’d been obsessed with the sky ever since he was little.

He could remember spending hours on the cold floor in his bedroom, flipping through faded illustrations in children’s books. He wished and hoped and prayed that one day – he could see it for himself.

Suddenly, he thought about having to tell her about that part of his life. How would she react? He couldn’t stomach another bite and lightly shoved away his basket.

Frankie knew he would have to tell her, but not right now. Not at Polly’s. Not anywhere in public.

But soon.

If he had learned anytime from last time, it was better to tell her before someone else let it slip.

#pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x f!reader #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales

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mysweetgirl2-love · 2 years

Text

Forbidden Family - Choso x Reader (JJK)

So, this literally ended up being WAYY longer than I had originally anticipated. Woops.

Let's be real, this prompt too was a bit out there--but from the original prompt list, I really didn't know how else to make this technically "PG". So, I hope I could at least achieve that..? Lmk.

I also, will admit, I've never seen the last two episodes of JJK (I know, a sin), but I have read through Shibuya and up to right before the Culling Games?? It's been awhile, admittedly...

I hope I did Choso's character justice, at least! He honestly was the most fitting for this prompt in the first place, so :) if you're wanting Choso content I hope this is alright haha.

Prompt #6: Baby-fever

Word Count: 3.3k (YEAH. I KNOW. I TOO WAS BOGGLED.)

✦✧✦✧

“Cho…” you delicately mumbled to the spikey haired man, his head laying so carefully against your thighs, your fingers lightly tangled into the roots of his hair. “Did you have a good day?”

He remains silent, your partner reaching forward to brush his fingers delicately against the fabric of your pants. His whole world so delicately held before him in what felt like the palm of his hands. Love was never an emotion he ever thought he’d be able to experience with the life he was cursed with, but you helped reshape that curse and make into something he found to be worth fighting for.

“Sure.” He easily replied, barely lifting his head in order to look up in your direction. “I knew that I would inevitably end back up in your arms… that pushed me enough.”

You lightly chuckled at how soft and sweet Choso always made sure to behave with you. You had heard from his brothers that he was an unforgiving force in the curse world. He was a striking force to those who stood against him, and held no mercy if any living being would approach his family. Separately, both brothers had voiced their surprise on separate occasions when it came to Choso’s overwhelming want and acceptance of you.

It was pure accident, you had stumbled down a dark alley being pursued by what you thought were a shadow. It at least looked and acted like one, but before you had caught it reaching up at you from the ground—gooey and rigid limbs targeting you in what had to be a dangerous gesture.

All your life, you had been a witness to many strange instances of grotesque beings littering themselves throughout public life. Monsters that would hang on the shoulders of others, wrap themselves around limbs or merely exist in the space beside them. You had found them to be irritable, but never outright dangerous. This instance felt strikingly different in that sense.

You weren’t wrong to feel the alarm, when you entered the alley the shadow grew to form and quickly made it clear your demise was the being’s goal. Cornering you amongst the trash cans, it gurgled and outwardly grinned through its muck to register a facial expression. Never knowing the details about curses, much less beginning to imagine what utilizing cursed energy was, it ultimately felt like your demise was inevitable.

Seemingly from a miracle, a figure flashed forward at the last second before the specter could strike. It caught the goop with bare hands, the creature suddenly exploding in an array of slimy globs that landed with sounding slaps against the surrounding brick walls.

It all happened so quick, you could hardly manage to shriek with how abrupt the start and end of the attack had been. But, your protector wasn’t disappearing as soon as he had arrived—and he turned in regard to you.

He had been dressed in robes, heavy-white cloth hanging over his shoulders beneath a purple vest-like piece of clothing that clung noticeably tighter around his chest and waist.

The man had a strikingly pale appearance, dark purple circles under his eyes that more-so resembled bruises and made him seem as though he had just recently come out of a fist fight. Across the bridge of his nose, reaching onto tips of his cheekbones, was a long scar. Inky black making the contrast stark on his rivaling white skin. A gaunt looking face topped off with two spiked ponytails on either side of his head—their color like his scar in being a pitch-black attribute to the rest of him.

There wasn’t anything else you could do besides helplessly stand before him in that moment, bask in a stare that could arguably kill. It seemed like it already had with the mess of goop now coating the walls and cement before you. Covering the on-comer’s hands in their forever darkness that screamed danger just as much as he did too.

What all felt like to be your finale in life quickly turned, for he made no move towards you when you back further away, cowering yourself into a corner. The relief continued, still, when the most he did was tilt his head at your distancing in the corner of the alley—looking back definitely not the best place to cower into if wanting to escape such a force that he had proven to be.

He spoke up, and it wasn’t that you were surprised that he himself could speak in full sentences, but more in that it wasn’t words of aggression. He spoke as though trying to console you from the events that had just happened, in compassion? You weren’t sure, the defeat of his target still dripping from his fingers making compassion something you found hard to believe he felt much of.

There was more movement behind him, two different figures materializing from the shadows behind the man—both chilling you to the bone. The first was a strikingly shortened figure, with a distinct face over a gaping mouth that curved into an open-lipped grin. The face which the individual also held for features was definitely the most gaunt of the three—dark, seemingly gouged out eyes with hollowed cheekbones. Like it had sucked out whatever original life had been within such a body. It toothily grinned in sight of you, the first man waving behind him at the look you stared over his shoulder. The other’s mouth closed, as if he got the message to cease.

The other looked more human like the first, towering over the rest of you with glowing, violet irises that were only further highlighted by the black of his scleras. The hair on his head was little, falling over the front of his forehead, a lighter brown compared to the original man’s hair, the rest of his face to wide and muscular too to really fit the hairstyle.

He was shirtless, arguably built like a greek god with abundant muscles beneath a tiny, suspender outfit. The suspenders only there for direction as they “held up” too-tight-of pants on his lower half that clearly weren’t slipping down easily. Topped off with a sporty bowtie wrapped around his neck, white cuffs adorning his wrists, it looked like he might be mocking an upper-class appearance. He smirked in your direction, as if he knew what was going on and you were simply the butt-end of the joke.

Your voice couldn’t be found as the trio paced forward, and maybe his words had been so strikingly softer to the rest of him in wanting to lull you into a false sense of security. Striking at the last moment, when you would least expect it.

With everything that had now happened, after the being chased end of things, it wouldn’t surprise you. Life was fleeting it seemed, you were bound to face your end sooner or later today… right?

What ended up being the case was something you never would’ve thought would be a result to such a day. You had been introduced to the trio in those next moments, Choso, who you had met before the rest, introducing them as his brothers by name before himself. You could see he was the most polite and articulate from his amalgamation of a family—and it all started to settle.

There was a reason behind his kindness, and it was almost just as innocent as the sympathy he had shown in the first place. He had saved you out of the goodness he wanted to be, but he staye from the pure curiosity you spawned within him. Wanting to know the spirit he had seen flitting around the streets of Tokyo on a more personal level.

It worked out for the better, arguing it was for your protection Choso ordered that you report to him once every week to see what else you had seen. On top of the intrigue he felt in your pureness, there was unfamiliar want to protect you from any danger you might face now that he was understanding of your circumstances.

He had worked out that you weren’t a curse user, but in fact a mortal that had the innate ability to see the curses which plagued humanity because of their faults. You weren’t tied to those faults in his mind, though. His eyes never deceived him in purity of a soul, yours shining nearly as brightly as how he viewed his brothers—arguably a shine worth becoming apart of his family.

Never wanting to go against what will you could have against his ruling of wanting you apart of his life, since he too couldn’t rule out why that were the case but found the desire not worth debating too far, he thought the once a week rule would be sufficient.

Once a week turned to twice, then every other day, and finally resulted in a daily check-in--the same alley at the same time, Choso ended up just going to wait for hours upon hours for your arrival. Quiet eagerness founded in hearing about your day regardless of maybe seeing a curse or not.

What the both of you thought couldn’t get better was just the beginning of something beautiful; because once upon approaching him your foot had almost comedically caught against the edge of a crack in the cemented ground, and suddenly you were tumbling towards the Cursed Womb. He was as nimble as he had been that first time interacting with the hybrid of a man, racing forward and catching you up in his considerably strong arms. Holding you up and closing you against him, he held you close to his chest that you swore you could hear the willing heart of his threatening to beat right out of it.

As though the final straw in your shared haystack, what was a building pining caved in on itself and Choso wasn’t going to shy away from his feelings any longer. He had finally gotten to hold you, and that was really all he needed to push him to a confession. A finale worth congratulating, you thought.

Now the two of you were here, resulting in your utmost protection from the eldest Cursed Womb and keeping you close even when times got hard. Fights were breaking out at a fastened rate, the World of Curses was beginning to build up in retaliation to humanity—and you being a human at the right hand of a high profile curse went directly against the motives of some.

Suguru Getou and Mahito were never big fans of yours, in fact they had gone to Choso in wanting his support in their uprising that ended up with them requesting your disposal. He denied, obviously, he wasn’t going to break apart his family willingly of what other’s wanted.

They threatened further, and so Choso hid you away from the world after explaining the situation you could find yourself in if allowed on the surface for too long of a time. You agreed, willing to go with him as long as the daily check-ins stayed consistent, and he were careful.

This was the end of another day hidden below the surface, it always ending in the tired man collapsing against your legs and stuffing the side of his head in your lap—silent insistence of him wanting you to play with his hair. It just made him all the more endearing in your eyes… these moments precious when the rest of the world was continuing to stay so tumultuous.

His eyes were glued to you and his surroundings honestly could’ve turned to nothing in those moments, he wouldn’t panic. He would still have you, that’s what mattered.

“Was your day alright?” He mumbled, studying your features as if he didn’t already have them memorized.

“Yes… it was fine.” You hummed in the wake of him, hand falling from being buried into the roots of his hair, brushing down the side of his face and tracing around the definition of his jaw. “Bland.”

He frowned at your use of the word, knowing it wasn’t you trying to negative, frowning because he wanted to make it better. Give you more to look forward to—even if you already found him to be enough.

“I’ll have to figure out a better situation than this…” he huffed, laying lightly back into your thighs, “Keeping you in here isn’t good on my part, I apologize.”

“You’re only protecting me, Cho. I could never be mad at something like that.” You reminded him, because he always fell back on this disparity when he found you every night, back at your “home”. He wanted you to have more, have something to do when he would be gone all day working for this, honestly, quite insufferable curses.

The thought wasn’t the first time he had experienced such a profound idea, but asking something like that of you sounded so… wrong. It wasn’t his place to decide such a life-altering choice like the one he always thought of in result of wanting to be more—give more to your everyday when he otherwise couldn’t.

You sensed his stiffening in your lap as he battled with himself of going through with the question, and it wasn’t the first time you had caught on to him wanting to speak. Every time the idea would be reminded in that precious place behind his face, between his eyes. It was getting him to admit the thoughts he had that was difficult, and yet they were what you considered entirely beautiful. Each always worth listening to and considering, in your opinion. Forever a curious mind, his curiosity having changed your life for what you would say was the better.

“Choso?”

He knew the tone of voice, he knew what was coming. What you were going to be asking. This time, he didn’t know if he was entirely up for denying his thoughts. The question just always on the tip of his tongue, and the wall had been worn with that of which he fell on to keep from admitting to the question he always held.

“Yes, dearest?” His voice, too, was soft and easy. Clearly hesitant.

“What’re you thinking of, my dreamer?”

The smile in your voice was clear, your fingers tracing down the back of his neck, against the stubble of his hair. He shivered at the mercy of your fingers, eyes closing as he figured how to word his question.

“You surely know that it can’t be anything good…”

“What makes you say that?” You counter quickly, fingers maybe jumping a bit on his skin with the difference in how this question usually went.

Usually, he would say there was no matter to what he was thinking, and that he was again just wanting to lay against you a bit longer. Getting him to say anything past that was a trial you never passed—so the lack of a test to cut straight to him tempting his own answer struck you.

“I would hate to cause you any more discomfort.” He frowned into the fabric on your legs, your whole self enveloping every sense he had, “It’s not a comfortable question.”

“You can ask me anything, you know this.” You encourage simply, not needing to have his angst grow in finally hearing what he had to have been thinking in the previous moments like this.

“Well…” he sighed, lifting his head to face you once again, ready this time, “I was trying to reason how saving you in the eyes of Curse’s should go. How I could protect you against their wrath in having them accept you as a part of my being—which, you very much are. Whether they want to accept that or not.”

You flushed, like every time he seemed to describe the pure depth of his attraction for you, flaring up in the love deep within your heart. Adoration riddled throughout. “Yes… I-I see.”

“So,” he stared simply at your burning cheeks with a warmer gaze, one that simply further liked seeing how warm your cheeks now were with just his gaze along with a few words. As lovely as you were, you were always going to be human. Humans were always so easy, and he found it be ever apart of the blessing that you were in his life, another note to why you were so lovely for him. “That being said. You are my family, yes?”

“I—uh… well, of course.” You stumbled over words, mind reeling, “If you say that I am, I would be a fool to say no.”

“Not a fool, but I do want to extend on that point… of family.” He easily replied, the weight of the world weighing now on his lungs as he willed himself to speak the words. “Extend my family… with you, that is.”

You didn’t quite understand what he was entirely getting at, at first. Extending the family wouldn’t be bad, he would find others if he chose to look, was he worried about your disapproval of people? Had he found another partner? Choso saw the signs that your mind had begun to race, and he extended a centering hand that delicately was then placed against your wrist. You found him again, eyes softening with your brow furrowing.

“What … what does that even begin to mean?—“

“Us, my love. Our own family, apart of my bigger family…” he cleared his throat, straightening up from your lap, speaking the words. “I’m wondering if you’d at all be interested in having a child.”

Your eyes blew out wide, and you could only manage to stare in shock at the man beneath you. “A—.. A baby?”

“Yes. A baby that can show just how strong our love is for one another in the wake of such… hatred I’m surrounded in.” He tried to explain, his eyes pinching closed as he riddled through the words that ran through his mind in an array of differing thoughts, trying to select what phrases felt right in explaining himself. As if he needed to reason the want for a child beyond his own desire. “It would prove to that vile spirit, Getou, that we are something worth existing. A child of a powerful curse and a beautiful human would surely—“

“Cho, baby, please.” You giggled softly at seeing his panic with the subject, leaning forward to your lap and brushing the tip of your nose against his own, “I’d be happy to be a family.”

You answered it so simply that Choso couldn’t believe his ears at first. But, his brain soon caught up with the rest of him in registering your quite immediate acceptance of the offer he bestowed, and in turn he felt silly all over. For those rare times you had been accounted for in the wake of his smile, this was another one of those instances. He beamed brighter than any ray of sunshine could ever hope to be, grinning happily up to you and all that you were. An angel sent from the almighty to grace him with a love he would never not be able to live without.

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

He leapt up from the floor, arms reaching out and over your shoulders in gripping to envelope you in a surely loving hug where he only hoped you could feel the admiration radiating from him in waves. Love was such a joy in life he now knew, thanks to you. And this was enhancing all that he initially thought he knew—growing into a forever instead of just the want of forever. With your saying yes, he could safely keep you by his side with also a being to show how far that love was rooted between the both of you. With that promise of acceptance from both parties, he knew all would be well, the family man never going to back down from his always goal of protecting those he cherished.

“Here’s to us, then.” He squeezed you a little tighter, reassuring himself too that this was real and you were really wanting this too.

“Yes, to us.” You immediately clung back to him, breathing him in as he had you and smiling in the fabrics of his robes. “Our perfect, forbidden family.”

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