Tumgik
#can certainly be a performer and a very good one at that but i love the sheer honesty and genuineness of his character that shines in moment
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A Little Protective - Max Verstappen
Summary: Max finds a lot of comfort in being protective over his girlfriend and she can't find it in herself to have a problem with it.
Just a short one
No part 2 requests please
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One would think that there's one simple "protective" position to sleeping with your boyfriend. But Max truly out does himself. The first time he did it y/n thought he was hinting for sex, but no it really wasn't like that.
Whenever they fall asleep, the man wraps his arms around y/n and keeps one hand cupping a boob and one hand cupping her crotch. Which admittedly took some time to get used to as a means of not being instantly turned on. But now it's just a norm.
Proof that it gives Max complete control over being able to be protective over her. As proven this morning when Max's phone goes off loudly making her whole body jump as she wakes up making him immediately pull her back into himself as if he's protecting her from the noise.
"It's your alarm." Y/n laughs reaching forward and giggle when Max tries to fight her moving away from his body even just the couple inches it takes to grab his phone since Max had managed to move to her side of the bed. "Ah, silence."
Max's hands both pull her back against himself with a sigh as he seems to settle again.
"Hey, golden boy. Time to get up. You have stuff to do today." Y/n laughs reaching her hand back and poking Max's head earning a groan. "You have padel with the boys."
"I know. Ok...I know." Max smiles while she sighs and relaxes against him. "You're coming with us, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I've got nothing better to do with my time." Y/n grins then finally forcing his hands away so she can roll to face him. "Plus my chances of successfully spending anytime away from you would be the equivalent to performing miracles."
"I am not that bad." Max argues instantly earning a raised eyebrow. "I am not. And you should not complain that you have a boyfriend who loves you like me."
"I'm not complaining, I'm just saying you are...very very very protective. Even when there is no threat." Y/n smiles and hugs him tightly and kisses him a couple times.
The two eventually drag themselves up and after getting ready they get themselves to the padel courts. Max is playing against Fernando, Lando and Daniel.
"Haha! I told you so." Daniel laughs as the couple appear.
"What?" Max questions while Lando groan.
"We bet to see if you're bring y/n-not that we don't want you here. But I thought Max might let you take take a day off." Lando states earning a slightly amused smile from the young woman as she feels Max's hand go around her waist pulling her slightly closer.
"Yeah, I'm sure you do want me here." Y/n hums while the others laugh a little about it. "You can split your winnings with me, Daniel."
"Agreed." Daniel states without hesitance making her bump fists with him.
"Alright, I'll get out the way. You guys have fun." Y/n smiles moving away from the drivers.
"I think I might need to find someone who is like your girlfriend. Tolerates anything from you, yes?" Fernando jokes as they all divide into their parts of the court.
Now admittedly, Max is not the most skilled when it comes to padel. There are certainly others who are better but Max would argue they've played for longer and he is new so practice will only improve his abilities.
At some point Fernando insists that he have a new teammate but rather than switch the teams he decides that y/n should play. Though only after Lando informs him of the fact she's substituted when he's played against Max in Monaco before and actually she is pretty good.
"Are you sure?" Y/n laughs when Max calls for her to come in and play.
"Yes, anyone will be better than your boyfriend." Fernando declares with a laugh while y/n laughs and moves to hug Max quickly, though she finds herself lifted up. "Ah, the two of you are adorable. It is sickening. Are you always this way?"
Y/n can't even stop herself from laughing while Max grumbles something about her being careful. She's good at padel but sometimes gets overexcited and messes up.
"I'll be fine, Fernando and I are going to win!" Y/n beams earning a nod and cheer from Fernando. "Alright, go on. Go watch from the sidelines and see the pro at work."
Max does smile at her for that confidence before he beams brightly at her.
"Alright, lets play." Fernando exclaims making y/n shift, tapping Max's padel on Fernando's before then move to actually play.
They manage to go with y/n and Fernando actually taking a game win, then they all agree to go for two out of three for the matches.
"You are much better than Max, you should give him lessons." Daniel laughs while y/n grins at him.
Though during the second match it's when they're on the verge of winning again when y/n tries to run to hit the ball but misjudges the plastic panel and runs into it, bouncing off of it and landing flat on her back with a grunt.
"Holy shit." Daniel laughs as they all run to her while she groans, laughing herself. "Uh oh here comes the Dr Verstappen."
"Oh christ." Y/n wheezes as Max appears, immediately peeling her up off the floor and lifting her like she's half filled with helium. "I'm ok, I'm fine, just winded myself a little."
"You bounced." Daniel laughs as him and Lando lean on each other and Max checks her head where she hit the plastic.
"Maybe we take a break?" Fernando suggests seeming slightly concerned for the young woman too earning agreement from Lando and Daniel before Max guides her to sit down off the court.
"Should I get you some ice?" Max questions brushing the red slowly growing bump making her hiss and retract from his touch quickly but she moment Max goes to rush for ice she's grabbed his hand in a python grip.
"No. Just leave it, it's just sore and ice makes it bruise badly." Y/n states shaking her head before Lando appears with some water for her. "Thanks."
"Figured I'd get it since Max looks stressed." Lando smiles earning a hum as Max thanks him for the bottle and opens it for her. "Next time I want you to team with me."
"You and Daniel were winning that match." Y/n laughs before gulping a couple mouthfuls of water.
"That's true." Lando nods before deciding to make a quick departure while Max sighs.
"I can't believe you ran into the plastic." Max murmurs making her look at him with a laugh. "Maybe we need to both work on it."
"I think you might be right. Really need to work on my spacial awareness." Y/n hums before she grins at him. "Love you."
"Love you too." Max sighs then grinning when she stands up and hugs him tightly somewhat hanging off of him as he hugs her back and lifts her up from the ground. Swinging her around a bit making her legs just fly around as she laughs. "But you are going to be on my team if you're going to play again."
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos
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prettyboykatsuki · 4 months
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— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.
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▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.
▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.
most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.
reader / tav is always gender neutral!
▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.
ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel
no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.
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❈ ASTARION ;
Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.
Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.
And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.
You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.
Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.
In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.
You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.
Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.
"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.
"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"
Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.
Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.
Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.
"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."
"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."
"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."
He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.
"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."
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❈ WYLL ;
it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.
For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.
You liked getting under his skin, after all.
You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills
Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.
It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.
He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.
Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.
Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.
It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.
And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.
Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.
"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."
He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.
"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."
You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."
You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."
It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.
"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.
"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."
You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.
"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"
"Sorry to disappoint."
He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.
Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.
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❈ GALE ;
Gale is always the poet, never the muse.
He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.
But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.
When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.
He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.
When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.
It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.
But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.
Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.
Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.
It has a special effect on Gale.
In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.
"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"
"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."
The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.
He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"
"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.
He's glad he's alive. To feel you.
"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."
He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.
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❈ SHADOWHEART ;
You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.
You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.
Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.
Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.
Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.
Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.
She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.
She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.
You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.
Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.
She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.
You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.
She loves you more than she cares to admit.
"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"
Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.
"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"
She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.
"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"
"I think it more often that I say it,"
"And you always think to call me that?"
"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"
Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.
"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."
Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.
"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."
You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"
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❈ KARLACH ;
Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.
She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.
Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.
Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.
Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.
And you always explain them to her afterwards.
You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.
The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.
With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.
You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.
She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.
"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."
"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."
Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.
"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"
"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"
The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.
"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."
"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"
Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.
With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.
It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.
"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.
You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"
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❈ LAE'ZEL ;
The Githyanki do not fall in love.
It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.
For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.
You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.
Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.
That you'd wait for her.
Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.
Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.
But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.
"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"
You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.
A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.
"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."
"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."
"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."
"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."
"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."
She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest
"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"
You return her smile in kind.
"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."
"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."
The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.
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▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.
this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!
anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !
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diariesofthelover · 3 months
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Wayne Brothers’ Gala Girl
synopsis: Bruce Wayne’s galas are held every once in a blue moon, but when they did occur, every Gotham socialite was sure to attend. The eldest sons of Gotham’s favorite billionaire always wound up in some trouble to entertain themselves, this time the brothers’ idea of fun was a beautiful woman who looked almost as bored as them.
notes: Jason Todd & Dick Grayson x reader, 3rd person pov, little bit 🌶️, inspired by the painting above.
The Eldest Wayne brothers found themselves in the quietest corner of the gala, bored with no idea of what they can get into this time around to beat last gala’s “performance” as they would call it.
“We could set off the fire alarm,” Dick suggests lazily to his younger brother.
“What are we twelve? Most of the people here already think we’re still fifteen.”
“No, they think you’re still fifteen because you were legally dead for like four years.”
“Shut up, dickwad.”
“HER!” Dick exclaimed, “Her, her, her, her!”
“You were Robin not a fucking parrot, her what?”
“That beautiful beautiful woman right there that looks even more miserable than we do with those tuxedo vultures circling her.”
Tuxedo vultures was spot on. These rich pigs had her trapped, all trying to win her attention one at a time, attempting a better pitch than the last guy. Any kind of manners that were instilled in her from an early age couldn’t apply after the third man insisted that he was the perfect man for her, actually, the perfect man for any proper woman, brains or not. All of the men here were the exact same, they believed their money and family were enough to flatter any woman here, that having any form of a likable personality or distanct traits besides snobbery was, “not something women really wanted.”
The woman couldn’t control her eye roll after the second attempted joke was made, averting her gaze where her eyes landed on the two men who already had their bright eyes on her, Bruce Wayne’s oldest sons.
She didn’t have a problem with the Wayne Family of course, she was after all attending their gala, it was just some of the guests that she wasn’t so fond of.
“What about her?” Jason looks over to who Dick was fawning over. Jason wasn’t blind, actually his vision only got better after he was resurrected, he too thought that the woman was beautiful, maybe one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, which is why he immediately shut Dick down, knowing what he was going to try to do.
“No, Dick. No chance, leave her alone.”
“I don’t think she wants me to,” Dick replies as the woman returns his famous flashy grin with a soft smile.
Dick had been trying to get Jason…well more out there after the whole dying, coming back to life, and then out in the public eye again thing. Jason died young, he barely got a chance to live his teenage years so whenever Jay’s attracted to someone, he starts acting like a teenage boy but at the age of twenty instead of sixteen.
Dick, make every girl swoon over him since his Robin days, Grayson mastered the whole girl thing by now and is trying to be his not so little brother’s tonight’s wingman.
“Follow me,” Dick whispers to Jason, not taking his eyes of the beauty across from him.
Dick and a hesitant Jason make their way over to the group of men that were all secretly jealous of their father, probably jealous of his sons too, interrupting the lifeless conversation and taking all of her focus off the vultures and onto him and Jason.
“Good evening gentlemen, how are we doing tonight?” Jason almost gagged at his at his brother’s fake politeness, he was always the better one at socializing, his charming personality didn’t stop at women.
“Richard Grayson, boy you’ve certainly grown up since I last saw you!” An older man around Bruce’s age greets him stirring up the rest of the men.
“Dick Grayson huh, pleasure to finally meet Gotham’s new prince.”
“I hear you’re very popular with the ladies,” the group erupted into laughter, these men really love any jokes to do with a woman don’t they?
“And you must be Bruce’s other son, Tim is it?” Jason’s takes his eyes off the woman to give the man a slight scowl, he promised Bruce he’d behave tonight.
“No, no, that’s Jason the one that…” one of the men tries to begin to tell the epic tale of Jason Todd.
“Say, we would love to stay and chat but our date has been waiting for us for quite a bit now,” Dick quickly interrupts him before Jason pulls out any kind of weapon on these men and offers his hand to the woman.
She places her hand into his thinking that she’d rather be a damsel in a in distress in need of saving by a knight, or in Gotham’s case a masked vigilante, instead of spending another moment with some men that are old enough to be her father thinking about how’d she make the perfect trophy wife and the younger who simply want to get laid after the gala. As Dick pulls her away from the hungry drunken men, she offers her hand to Jason who gives her a confused and flustered look.
“If I’m not mistaken, Mr. Grayson said our date,” she says to him in the most soothing and charming voice Jason’s ever heard.
Forcing himself to snap out of this teenage haze, Jason takes her hand earning a smile from both her and his brother.
“I hope you don’t mind us whisking you away like that, you just seemed like you weren’t enjoying yourself,” Dick started, never dropping his darling smile.
“I don’t mind at all, I needed an excuse to get away from them,” the woman looks back at the men as they watch the brothers walk away with their “prize” in envy, “god they’re pathetic,” she sighs.
“Tell me about it,” Jason mumbles beside her.
“All night I’ve been surrounded by these people that only talk about their money, their jobs, their mansion and penthouses, it’s a bit exhausting, they really can’t think of anything else to discuss. It’s fascinating that they really think that’s the way to win over a woman.”
“Well I can promise you we’re a lot more interesting than that,” Dick laughs, “We also have access to all parts of the manor, how about Jason and I give you a little tour?” Dick states rather than asks earning a questioning look from Jason about what he’s planning.
“If you insist.”
Jason knew how Dick wanted him to jump into the dating pool. He frequently tried to set him up with either other vigilantes so he wouldn’t have to worry about his partner 24/7, or an ordinary Gotham citizen where Jason could escape from Gotham’s criminals and Red Hood duties to enjoy a semi-normal life. What Jason wasn’t understanding was why Dick had a chosen a woman that he was madly attracted to as well.
As Dick began his small tour of the manor, Jason stood awkwardly alongside the woman who was attentively watching his older brother and the places he showed. Jason didn’t know if he should join in or take over, make some small talk, he was sort of frozen in place and shy. You’d think that the big bad Red Hood who always had a mouth on him since he was Robin and would break Batman’s moral code would be the last person to get nervous around a pretty girl, maybe Red Hood wouldn’t but Jason Todd would.
“And this is the library, Jason’s favorite place in the manor,” Jason was snapped out of his thoughts when Dick mentioned his name, “once he comes in here you won’t see him for hours.”
“Big reader?” It took a moment for Jason to realize that the question was for him and not Dick.
“Yea, um, yes, I love literature.”
“Really, would do you love to read?” She was now fully focused on Jason who was struggling to maintain eye contact as his cheeks and ears were colored red.
He couldn’t keep his cool physically but he could try verbally, “classics,” he responded simply, not adding more to his portion of the conversation to which Dick internally sighed to.
“Dostoevsky, Shakespeare, Austen?” The charming woman tried to get something out of the boy.
“All of them, and more of course,” Jason gave her a shy smile.
She heads towards the leather chair that Jason always sits in, making herself comfortable in his spot.
“This where you sit, get lost in all those stories you read?”
Something about her sitting in his chair made his blood rush. The way that she had made it look twice the size bigger being half the size of Jason, the way she relaxed into his chair, sinking into his molding. The boy was so mesmerized he forgot to answer her question.
Dick noticed and decided to swoop in, “Mhm, right here,” Dick drags now standing over her, “he’s a very smart guy you know with all the books he reads, runs in the family.”
She slowly shifted her gaze from Jason to Dick who was getting closer and closer, “I guess the looks do too, interesting for adopted brothers,” earning a smile from both boys.
“Excuse my brother for his shortness, we usually occupy ourselves with stunts at these galas, not beautiful women,” Dick says switching the attention back onto Jason, “he can get pretty shy.” Normally that statement would earn a punch to the shoulder or at least a nasty remark but Dick was right, Jason was pretty shy around pretty girls.
Dick and the mystery woman were now smiling at Jason who was leaned against the wall, close enough to where he can see the rise and fall of her chest, but far enough from engaging the way Dick was.
Dick gently tilts her head up with his large calloused hands forcing their gala girl to look up at him, “What do you think of my brother?”
Now it was the woman’s turn to be painted red, “I think he’s one of the most handsome and intriguing men I’ve ever seen.”
“And me?” Dick pouts.
“I think you’re one of the most handsome and charming man i’ve ever come across,” she says in a sultry tone that lures the boys in like sailors to a siren.
Both Dick and Jason’s blood is rushing, relishing in the fact that this goddess of a woman found the boys to be worthy of her attraction, that nobody else at the gala was as good as them.
“Tell me something, both of you,” she starts, “why stray from your usual chaos and shenanigans to show me around your manor?”
“You’re much more intriguing than anything we had in mind,” says Jason surprisingly boldly as he moves closer to her.
“You’re the most entertaining here tonight, baby,” adds in Dick who quickly got back his confidence after a brush to his ego.
“I heard I was beautiful too,” she teased, trying to get the higher ground again.
“I bet you get told that a lot, don’t you angel? You think that’s what those pigs were telling her Jay? How much of a pretty girl she is,” It was too late though, once Dick Grayson got wound up, he got complete control, “Now you tell me something doll, did they tell you how sexy you look in that dress of yours?” She shakes her head no, any kind of witty and teasing responses wiped from her pretty head, “Aw, well that’s just wrong, Jason tell her how good she looks in that dress.”
Both eyes are on Jason, waiting for his compliment, “She looks—you look stunning in that dress,” Dick was waiting for more, he knew Jason had the vocabulary he just needed the push, “You suit my color, red’s my favorite,” now they were getting something out of him.
“I’ll be sure to think of you when I wear red again,” god she was good. Dick had to bring the power back to him and Jason again, this all quickly became a game to him, his real entertainment for tonight’s gala.
“And what if we got rid of the red,” Dick slips the strap of her dress off her shoulder causing her to shudder, he’s in control again, “how’s that look?”
“Fuck,” Jason whispered under his breath.
“I think Jason feels the same way about it as I do,” with how quiet it was in the library his whisper was heard easily by the two, “what do you think pretty, you think it’s better?”
She felt like how Jason felt in the beginning, mesmerized and stunned. From Dick talking to her so confidently and his usage of pet names, to the way Jason was losing his fucking mind over her.
“Y’gonna answer me or are you gonna keep looking at Jay with fuck me eyes?” Dick wasn’t jealous, he was trying to tease the two, get them riled up.
Before she gets to respond there’s a knock at the door, “Master Richard and Master Jason, Master Bruce requests your attendance for at least another half hour.”
“We’ll be right out Alfred,” Richard quickly answered before Alfred could barge in on the scene, “shall we?”
Dick heads towards the door as Jason and their gala girl slowly fix themselves up, avoiding any kind of eye contact with each other.
Dick stops Jason before they head back out to the gala, “You’re welcome, Jaybird.”
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amongemeraldclouds · 12 days
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The Slytherin Boys as Disney Princes
Ft. Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle, Blaise Zabini, Tom Riddle, Draco Malfoy, and Lorenzo Berkshire. Also features x f!Reader as their equivalent Disney princesses.
© amongemeraldclouds I do not consent to having my work shared or reproduced elsewhere. Please do not claim as your own, tumblr is the only place I share my written work.
✿ Masterlist | 1.8k words
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From the Wizarding World to magical fairytales, let’s crown our beloved Slytherin boys as the following Disney princes:
Theodore Nott as Prince Charming (Cinderella)
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Note: Prince Charming doesn’t have much personality in the original 1950s film, but we learn more about him in later films, where I drew information from.
✭ Raised in privilege as a prince, Theodore Nott lived a very charmed life just as the name Prince Charming suggests.
✭ With only royals and commoners to distinguish class, he is less prejudiced and more accepting of others. His father taught him at an early age that they have a responsibility to their people just as their people serve them.
✭ Because of this, he is open and friendly to everyone, including animals. He was once hunting down a deer only for it to be a game in the end, him and the deer are actually friends. (Note: Yes this is canon Prince Charming and is very Theo as well.)
✭ If Disney were less wholesome, Theo as Prince Charming would have regular lovers, but it will only always be physical. He has not yet found a connection with anyone, but it doesn’t matter because he enjoys sex. He certainly never runs out of women to sleep with.
✭ Beneath all the charm, he secretly hopes to find a love match. The kind of relationship that transcends strategy and status. He longs for passion and romance, much like in the books he reads in the castle’s library, though he’ll never let anyone know.
✭ His father in the meantime is keen to see him married to an eligible maiden so he threw a ball. He rolled his eyes and yawned when no one was looking, initially bored because he still couldn’t find the connection he longed for. At this point, he doubted he’d ever find it. 
✭ Then he met you. You in your light blue dress and glass slippers. Everything about you sparkled and it ignited something in his heart. He never knew romantic love before you, but he recognized it right away.
✭ He wouldn’t care that you were a commoner, he’d admire your courage and kindness once he got to know you. Besides, true love was far more valuable than any precious metals and gems.
✭ After you ran off, your glass slipper gave him hope. He was going to stop at nothing to find you, his true love.
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Mattheo Riddle as Flynn Rider (Tangled)
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⋆☀︎. Left to his own devices, Mattheo Riddle would go on countless adventures across different kingdoms and forests, thieving only as a means to an end so he could survive. 
⋆☀︎. He enjoys the rush, being chased by the authorities and not being held down by rules or responsibilities. (Except they can never get his damn nose right on Wanted signs despite the distinct cut he has on the bridge of his nose iykyk.)
⋆☀︎. With his charming personality and irresistible smolder, he’s an expert in banding together with fellow criminals and often smooth talks his way into ladies’ beds. All temporary partnerships for his on-the-go lifestyle.
⋆☀︎. Until one day he comes across you, the girl with golden hair and big eyes — not to be underestimated with your ferocious pan wielding tendencies. He learns the last part a little too late, the hard way.
⋆☀︎. As he promised to take you to see the floating lights in exchange for the crown, he finds himself having fun swinging his fists and learning about your power to bring out the good in people.
⋆☀︎. You managed to charm tough guys in a bar, getting them to talk about their dreams—of being a florist, of performing on stage, and of falling in love. He realizes it may not be so bad to go on adventures with someone else.
⋆☀︎. He was already mesmerized before he learned about your magical hair. He saw the light within you long before that enchanted night when lanterns floated through the air like stars hung low just for you. And of course, they were always meant for you.
⋆☀︎. Before Mother Gothel could plunge the weapon in him, he already knew he was a goner. He knew he could never go back to who he was. He was now and forever going to be a moth to your flame, your soul as radiant as the sun even long after your golden hair turned brown.
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Blaise Zabini as Kristoff (Frozen)
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•❅*ִ Much like Kristoff, Blaise Zabini exudes a quiet confidence that does not need to declare itself.
•❅*ִ As an ice harvester who works with ice picks, hooks and ropes, he has an athletic build and a tough exterior, but do not be fooled for he has a soft heart within.
•❅*ִ Having grown among trolls and reindeers, he sometimes gets frustrated when interacting with people. He believes reindeers are better than people, but all that changes when he meets you.
•❅*ִ He is very practical and honest, but when he is blunt he often means well. He is quick to call you out on the fact that you’re about to marry a man you hardly know.
•❅*ִ He initially agrees to help you end winter to save his ice business and get a new sled. However, the more challenges you face together, he grows to admire your fearlessness and determination.
•❅*ִ While you initially find him to be annoying, you soon discover his charming and funny side.
•❅*ִ He will however suppress his feelings for you, thinking it’s better to let it go because you’re already engaged anyway. But when truths are revealed and no one is who they appear to be, you’ll melt his frozen heart with a kiss on the cheek.
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Draco Malfoy as Li Shang (Mulan)
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✿ To Draco Malfoy, loyalty and family legacy is important, just like Li Shang who aims to be just as great as his father, the head of the Imperial Chinese Army.
✿ He is disciplined and has mastered both physical and strategic ways of waging war. He has a lot of traditional beliefs, including making a man out of his troops using elaborate physical training.
✿ He starts questioning those beliefs when he sees your determination as Ping, using both weights to climb up the pole even though it took you countless failures throughout the night. What were these confusing feelings in his chest?
✿ Yet he couldn’t deny it, nor would he try. He was ready to lay his life down for you even before you saved him. It didn’t take him long to return the favor when he found out you were a woman and so he spared your life.
✿ Despite his firm upbringing, he was always loyal to his heart. Even though you betrayed the army, he knew your intentions had been good and that your hard work made you a skilled soldier.
✿ He listened and trusted your last ditch efforts to save the Emperor, even resorting to cross dressing as part of the plan. It all paid off as you saved the Emperor and all of China. 
✿ In the end, you were absolved of your deceit and honored for your heroism, finally letting your reflection show who you are and what you’re made of. Your final crime was stealing his heart.
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Tom Riddle as Aladdin (Aladdin)
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✶ Tom Riddle grew up as an orphan and resorted to a life of crime to survive in Agrabah. Secretly, he enjoyed it too.
✶ Smitten by your beauty, he saved you from a merchant at the market and he was impressed with your agility when it came to dodging the authorities.
✶ When you reached Aladdin’s home, you revealed you were from the palace and left thinking you’d never see him again. He longed to visit the palace to get another glimpse of your beauty.
✶ Named as a diamond in the rough, Jafar recognized Tom’s talent and recruited him to steal the magic lamp from the Cave of Wonders. Encouraged by the promise of riches (therefore power) and a subconscious need to please Jafar, he takes on the task, saving a magic carpet in the process.
✶ Back at the palace, your father sought to marry you off to find a successor to his throne. You met suitors, including a flashy prince called Ali from Ababwa.
✶ On a magic carpet ride, you trick Ali into admitting he’s the thief you previously met at the market. He manipulates you into thinking he’s the prince and the thief persona was just an act for him to get to know the city better.
✶ When Jafar uncovers Tom’s identity, he steals the magic lamp and wreaks havoc using the genie’s wishes. Understanding Jafar’s ego, he tricks him into wishing to be the most powerful being in the universe, which imprisons Jafar in his own lamp as a genie.
✶ Instead of using his last wish to continue being the rightful prince who can marry you, he used it to free the genie, as he has now learned how power corrupts others. It wasn’t worth it.
✶ Crowned as the next sultana, you recognized how our actions and choices defined us. Despite Tom’s manipulations, he showed up and was willing to learn. He was not afraid to look into the dark and make the right decisions when it mattered, a husband fit for a ruler.
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Lorenzo Berkshire as Jack Frost (Rise of The Guardians)
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Before you come at me, I know Jack Frost is not a Disney prince, but I’m a Jelsa truther so here we are.
❅ Lorenzo Berkshire mirrors Jack Frost’s love for mischief and games. As the guardian of fun, he enjoys playing harmless tricks on children and hearing them laugh as a result.
❅ Beneath the playful exterior, he deeply cares for those around him, having saved his sister from a frozen lake. His ultimate sacrifice led to his untimely demise, which the Man in The Moon rewarded him by making him immortal and granting him powers. 
❅ He never found much need for romance, opting to spend his days playing with children and visiting his fellow guardians instead. Until one day, he visits the Enchanted Forest and comes across you, its mighty protector.
❅ Despite the initial distrust, he wins you over with his easy smile and sincerity. You never realized it until then, how lonely it was to be an ice queen without her king.
❅ Jack was also amazed to find someone else who could play with the magic of snow. He felt seen and understood like never before. For once, the loneliness in his heart melted away.
❅ So you spent your days together, laughing over silly jokes and exchanging stories. The cold never bothered you, but being with him made you understand why people enjoyed the sweetness of hot cocoa and why they cuddled close to a fire.
❅ Both your friends and family were happy for you. One day, Jack asked you to invite everyone so you can have a contest on who built the best sculptures. Your audience and judges comprised of Jack’s fellow Guardians, Queen Anna and King Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven.
❅ You showed off with iced gardens, towers, and even the shape of Sven, but none was more impressive as when you turned around to find Jack on one knee, a gleaming diamond in his hand. It was a picture perfect moment with ice sculptures in the background, celebrated with loved ones. 
❅ And soon, the ice queen would never be without her king.  
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✿ Masterlist <- read more!
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l0vedoe · 2 months
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Yandere!Lucifer X GN!Reader
Hi! My name is Kay, and it's my first time posting something on Tumblr (I don't know how to use this)
I've been really obsessed with Lucifer and I saw a Yandere!Lucifer fanfic that I loved a lot, but sadly there's no part 2 :( So, I decided I would write MY OWN Yandere!Lucifer fanfic! (Also without a part 2..) Here is the one I got inspired by! So, have fun! <3
Sorry if it's a little weird at first, english is not my first language and I'm still learning it!
Part 2 here!
Words: 3787
Synopsis: Your friends found a ritual that can bring Lucifer to your world and, unfortunately, you accepted to participate.
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You were sitting on a pile of cushions with your arms crossed, not believing what you and your friends were doing.
A few days ago, one of your friends, Lesley, had found a ritual that could summon Lucifer, the King of Hell, into the human world. You knew that your group of friends were obsessed with those sobrenatural things, ghosts and anything with horror involved. You liked it too, but among them, you were the only one who didn't enjoy getting directly involved with these things. You liked the trivia, the facts, the stories you heard on the internet, but participate in rituals? Ha! No, certainly no. You were sensible enough to know that you shouldn't be messing with these things, whether you believed in them or not. You weren't scared, you just didn't want to disturb whatever exists out there.
Even though you didn't like the idea, you accepted, not knowing why though. Maybe it was because your friends kept insisting...
And there you were, in a dark room in an abandoned house that Lesley had found so that you all could perform the ritual.
You watched your friends as they prepared everything. One of them was making a large pentagram on the floor, while another was placing six candles around it. As soon as they had finished, the three of them stood inside the pentagram, looking at you as if that was all that was missing - and it was.
"Come on, you agreed to do it, remember?" Lesley says, holding out his hand to you.
"Unfortunately."
You said, standing next to your friends.
Lesley took a needle from his pocket and pierced everyone's finger, letting them each drip their own blood onto the pentagram below. Gab, your friend on your left, held out a lighter so that you could light the candles one by one. As soon as you had finished, you all left the pentagram and the atmosphere became more tense.
This couldn't turn out good.
"Lucifer, lord of the red skies, hear my sublime call, show us your true power and appear in this circle!"
When Lesley finished speaking, silence prevailed in the room... for a long time. Since you came here you believed it wouldn't work, but your friends really believed it would, so they were all very disappointed when they saw that nothing happened.
As soon as you thought to say something, the pentagram glowed in a gold so bright that it didn't seem real. It glowed so brightly that if you looked at it for too long, you would surely lose your sight, so you all looked away until the light ceased, and it did. With your vision still blurred, you turned to face the pentagram again and sighed in shock.
There, in the middle of the pentagram, was a short, blond man with pale skin. His eyes were yellow, his teeth were sharp and there was a red circle on each cheek. His clothing appeared to be of high quality and class, a red shirt covered by a white jacket with veiled details, matching his pants in the same color. His hat was also white, with a red band, a golden crown, an apple and a golden snake. A lot of information in a single hat, to be honest.
The man looked confused and annoyed as, with one hand, he was dusting his clothes.
Not only you, but all your friends looked at the man with admiration and amazement. “It worked..." they all thought.
No one said anything, they were too surprised to be able to formulate a single sentence.
"I knew Lucifer was a fallen angel, but I thought the fall would have affected his appearance?"
You say, analyzing the whole figure of the creature in front of you. He was pretty, you had to say.
Lucifer sighed, looking extremely bored with the situation.
"I thought no one knew the summoning ritual anymore, but it seems I was wrong." he says, looking at everyone in the room. "So...?"
He waits, with a judgmental look on his face.
Lesley wakes up from her thoughts and starts talking frantically.
"Oh, Great Lord Lucifer, King of Hell!" Lesley bows, followed by all her friends too, except you. Lucifer smiles. He liked those nicknames. "We're really, really sorry to bother you. We were just curious about whether this ritual would work or not, we didn't want anything to do with you."
Lucifer rolls his eyes. Of course, he had to have been summoned by a bunch of curious mortals...
"You see, I was taking care of very important things when you summoned me, and I am unable to return to my duties unless one of you makes a deal with me." Lucifer gestured his hand gracefully in the air as he spoke. You had to admit: the real devil was not at all what you expected. You expected a tall, red-skinned, goat-legged creature with long horns and a tail, but this...? It was laughable.
But of course you didn't laugh.
Lucifer turned his gaze on you, giving you goosebumps. His gaze on you was something you had never felt before, and it scared you. He was a shorty man and yet he was making you afraid of what might happen to you if you stepped in the wrong place.
You swallowed.
"I'm waiting!" Lucifer raised his voice, making everyone shiver. "Which one of you is willing to make a deal with me, hm...?"
Lucifer had an amused smile on his face as he analyzed each individual in the room. One shaking his legs, another trying to look away, another thinking about what to do to get rid of the blond man and, finally, you, who even though you were afraid, didn't seem to be letting your guard down. You looked at Lucifer with courage, and Lucifer liked that. He really did. When was the last time he saw someone like you? A long time ago, that's for sure. Most of the humans who ended up meeting Lucifer, willingly or by accident, used to be so scared and afraid that they would sometimes beg Lucifer to let them live with their souls in peace.
Souls... Lucifer never cared, really. Most of his deals didn't involve receiving the souls of humans in return, he had no interest in that, he just asked for anything that came to mind. Most of the time, something very silly. He didn't even like making deals with humans, it’s just time he wastes to satisfy the will of mortals.
Seeing that no one would take the initiative, he decided to do it for them.
"Since you guys won't make up your minds, leave it to me. Eeny-meeny-miney..." Lucifer began to choose, and when you saw that he was going to end up with one of your friends, you interrupted him. "Hm?"
"I'll make a deal with you if that's what it takes for you to leave us alone."
Lucifer smiles. He was loving your attitude.
"Are you crazy? You shouldn't do that! He is going to take your soul!" Lesley tried to warn you, worried about you.
"At least it'll help you not to mess with things like that again."
You say harshly, stepping closer to Lucifer.
So that's what you were afraid of? It was nothing new for Lucifer.
"All right, then. What's your name, dear?" Lucifer says, approaching you.
Everyone was looking at you worried and afraid. You liked your friends, but they were the kind who fucked up and left it to you so you could resolve things. Always.
"What do you want? My soul? Possession of my body?" You ignore the question the blond man made, leaving him a little frustrated, but without showing it.
He laughs.
"No, no, no! I don't care about these things, really!" He puts his hand on his chin and closes his eyes, seeming to think deeply, until he snaps his fingers, thinking of something. "Oh, I know! You're going to dance for me dressed as a duckling!"
You look at him with a mixture of confusion and disgust. Was this really the King of Hell that everyone was so afraid of?! You hold in your laughter.
"All right." You reach out to shake his hand, but he interrupts.
"Don't you know how deals work, darling?" he asks in a mocking tone, amused. "You need to tell me what you want in return."
"Oh, is that so?" you ask and he shakes his head positively. Actually, there was nothing you really wanted, you just wanted him to go away and for you to be able to come home soon. You should never have agreed to take part in that. "Oh, I don't know, man... give me a chocolate cake and we'll be fine."
Lucifer laughs softly. You seemed as bored as he was, and your boredom amused him too much.
He grabs your hand, and you automatically felt your casual clothes change into a yellow jumpsuit with a hood that had a duckling face on it.
You sighed. What a humiliation.
You danced a children's dance that you learned as a child, and you could see how Lucifer was enjoying it, his eyes shining, his cheeks reddening and a smile on his face. He clapped his hands frantically.
When you finished your dance, he sighed, snapped his fingers and your clothes returned to normal. A second later, you were holding a plate with a chocolate cake on it. It looked delicious.
"It was a great deal. I hope I never see you again!" Lucifer said, finally disappearing into a golden dust.
Your friends were wide-eyed and dumbfounded. They gave you a quick lecture on how you could have used that deal to get anything and you decided on a chocolate cake. You could ask for thousands of dollars, you could ask to have whatever you wanted, have as much power as you wanted, and you still decided on a chocolate cake?!
You didn't care, saying goodbye and making your way home while holding your chocolate cake. You were sure to devour it as soon as you sat down on your couch.
~
After that incident, your days went by as normal. You wake up, go to work, come home, go to sleep. Wake up, work, come home, sleep.
It was a routine you got used to, and it was good to be used to things, you weren't the type who liked new things.
However, after a week or so of performing that ritual and summoning Lucifer, you began to feel strange. You felt watched almost all the time, it was uncomfortable even to take a shower and this was something that was really bothering you. You've never been sensitive to these things, what was going on?!
In addition to the feeling of being watched, you also began to see figures out of the corner of your eye and hear voices calling you. You could have sworn you were going crazy, it wasn't normal.
You sent a message to Lesley, telling him what you were feeling. Lesley didn't care much.
Lesley Bff: idk, it must be in your head
Lesley Bff: I felt that way too during my first ritual
Lesley Bff: but you know what?
Lesley Bff: Lucifer could be watching you 👻
You laughed.
You: if he's not back in his hole, I'll send him back there myself
Lesley could be right. You've never taken part in a ritual before, so maybe it affected you more than you expected.
You sigh, smiling at the thought of being anything else. "How silly..."
You head for the kitchen to get some water. Opening the fridge, you take out your jug of water and fill a glass with the liquid, putting the jug away again.
As you bring the glass to your lips, you notice a blond man on the other side of the dining table.
You continue to drink your water.
Wait...
You spit out the water, looking back to the front and no longer seeing the man there.
"I need therapy…" you say, putting a hand to your forehead.
"Everyone needs it, dear." When you hear the familiar voice, you're startled and turn around so fast that you drop your glass on the floor, shattering it. "Wow... Do you get that excited just by seeing me?" The blond smiles debauchedly.
"What the fuck..." that's all you managed to say. "I didn't summon you, damn it! Get the fuck out of here!"
You demand, making the demon in front of you laugh.
"It's that way of yours that made me fall in love with you!" he says, still laughing.
What?
You look Lucifer up and down with disgust. How strange was it to have a religious figure, who you believed existed only in your imagination until a week ago, tell you that he's in love with you? Answer: very. ABSURDLY.
"Dude, I don't want any trouble, just do me a favor and leave."
You say, calmly, but Lucifer didn't seem to hear. His smile remained on his face, it seemed to grow with every detail he appreciated about you. It was as if he was hypnotized. You could notice his pupils dilating and his cheeks starting to turn pink.
He moves closer, making you take a step back to keep your distance.
"I'm afraid I can't…" he said, still smiling, but now without showing his teeth and without looking you in the eye. He was analyzing your body, your baggy white T-shirt, your plaid pajama pants and your matching slippers.
Your posture was as if you were ready to run at any moment. Lucifer noticed, after all, he didn't want you to run from him. Why would you run from him?
He took a step forwards, coming closer again, and that was the exact moment you knew you had to run. You weren't an idiot, you ran, you ran as if your life depended on it and, at that moment, it really did.
As you climb the stairs to the second floor of your house, you enter your bedroom and lock the door. You didn't think it would help much since your enemy was a demon who could easily teleport to where you were, but you still did what was possible at the time.
Trying to think of many ways to make the demon go away and get you out of this, you are interrupted by a voice on the other side of the door.
"Darling, please..." the voice was sly. "I don't want to hurt you, I just want to talk to you..."
You didn't trust him. You couldn't trust him. He was the fucking devil!
You didn't answer, and a silence remained. You tried to look through the keyhole, to make sure he was no longer there and you could finally get out. As soon as you put your hand on the handle to open the door, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You automatically turned round and punched Lucifer in the face.
"Get away from me!" You screamed, and before you could run away again, golden chains wrapped around you, preventing you from moving. "What the...!"
"Look..." Lucifer begins, caressing the cheek you punched. "I just want to talk, that's all."
You didn't want to listen, you were just trying to free yourself from the chains that bound you.
Lucifer continued.
"Your attitude that day captivated me, and I found it so attractive how you didn't show any fear. Not to mention, of course, that your dancing was incredible." he smiled. "I couldn't help myself and started watching you ever since. I couldn't stop thinking about you for a second. I've spent the last few days just watching you from hell. I've watched you sleep, you eat, you work, you shower..."
This last part seemed to have had a different effect on Lucifer.
Until now, you really believed that you could escape him, but as soon as you realized that it was impossible to free yourself from the chains, your body withered. You knew there was nothing you could do.
Even so, indignation and confusion overwhelmed you. What was this guy saying? In love with you? Really?
You looked at Lucifer angrily, while he looked at you as if you were all he wanted.
"I've been so lonely these last few years, and as soon as I started watching you I wanted to be with you even more and more..." he said, hugging himself and looking at random corners as if he was fantasizing about a thousand different things. "So I give you the honor of moving in with me! In hell!"
You widened your eyes. That couldn't be real. It couldn't.
Lucifer, the fallen angel, wanted you to live with him in hell?
You laughed. Of course it was a joke. If you accepted, he would steal your soul and you wouldn't be free for anything else. Yes, that had to be it. It was a way of persuading you, tricking you, so that he could get what he wanted.
You took a deep breath, recovering from your laughter, and kept your eyes on Lucifer's hopeful gaze.
"No!" you said, loud and clear.
You didn't want another deal, you didn't want to go to hell, you didn't want Lucifer! You just wanted to get back to enjoying your holiday peacefully watching whatever was on TV, you didn't want anything new.
Hearing you refuse, Lucifer's expression changed from a smile to disappointment. He couldn't believe it. Why were you turning him down? He was the King of Hell, he could make you powerful like him, give you anything you wanted! What was stopping you from accepting?
"Why?! I can give you anything you want! Power, money, comfort and lots of chocolate cake! Please accept it..." he looked sad, but deep down he hoped you would say yes. "I love you..."
His last words made you even angrier. The devil himself was confessing to you, you no longer feared him.
"But I don't love you! I want to get away from you, your hell and everything that surrounds you! I don't want power, I don't want money, I want you to go away!"
You scream, spitting out the words with hatred, not even caring what the blond guy might feel. You couldn't stand it any longer, the chains were tightening your body with each passing minute, you just wanted to go back to your normal life, without demons, without rituals, without anything weird.
You noticed Lucifer with his head down, quiet, and wondered if now he would accept it and leave you alone. Unfortunately, he wouldn't.
As soon as he raised his face, you noticed his eyes filled with a bright red colour, his horns began to appear from his head and his tail appeared behind him. Clearly, he was very angry, and now you felt genuine fear of what might happen to you now.
He began to smile, a fearsome smile that showed his sharp teeth.
His voice was slightly distorted. The chains squeezed you tighter and tighter.
"I am Lucifer, King of Hell, and it is not you who will change that." he approached, still smiling. "I can do whatever I want, and I want you, and I'm going to have you, whether you like it or not."
With those words, the chains disappear and you fall to the ground in pain. They were already suffocating you.
As soon as you calmed down, you looked up to find Lucifer staring down at you without smiling now. He snapped his fingers, forming a portal beneath the two of you.
Before you could fall, Lucifer caught you. You had your eyes closed, afraid to open them and see what you feared. You only felt Lucifer holding you until he finally stopped on the ground and released you. You open your eyes and realize you're in a spacious room, with a large bed with crisp sheets. The walls were dark, as was the floor. There were several pictures of Lucifer with a beautiful woman and a little girl and lots of rubber duckies scattered around the room.
You looked out of a window to see the red sky on the other side.
You were in hell, alone with the angel who had fallen from heaven, with no idea how to get home.
You despair, your breathing quickens and becomes heavy, cold sweat begins to run down your face. You turn around and find Lucifer taking off his jacket and hat and settling down in the bedroom.
You keep your distance as he starts to approach with that same smile as before, until you slam your back against a wall, making it easier for him, who could now approach you.
He came close, standing inches away. His hand caressed your left cheek, while the other took your right hand, bringing it to his lips so that he could kiss it.
"Let me go…" you plead, your eyes filling with tears.
Lucifer looks at you, smiling even more.
"No." he says, in the same tone you used when you told him that. "I tried to make it as friendly as possible, but you wouldn't co-operate. How could I keep the person I love close if I didn't force you to stay here with me?"
"This is not love...!" you say, without looking at him.
"It's your idea of love that's wrong, darling..." Lucifer's face moves closer to yours, his hand still caressing your cheek. "That love you humans appreciate doesn't exist, it never did. Love where the two live happily ever after only exists when one of the people involved makes it happen. And that's exactly what I am doing right now..."
He kisses the corner of your mouth, and you shiver at the touch of his lips.
Why you? What was so different about you that Lucifer needed it to be you? Since Lesley came with that, you knew it wasn't a good idea to do that ritual, you'd never done such things just because you knew it was never a good idea. You didn't want to mess with whatever was out there because you knew you could end up in trouble, and yet you agreed to take part in that damn ritual...
Look at the state you're in now: being forced to be Lucifer's prisoner.
"Don't worry, it won't be so bad." Lucifer says, now hugging you and putting his face into your chest.
You wanted to cry, scream, punch Lucifer until you couldn't, but you were afraid of what might happen if you did. You remained silent, cried silently, without moving a muscle.
Once again, your friends fucked up with things and you had to deal with it.
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Just a quick reminder: This is just a fanfic, I don't like the idea of a yandere in real life. In real life, this is crazy and toxic, I don't support that.
So, if you guys liked it, let me know! You can also ask for me to write something about Lucifer again (I'm not doing other characters yet).
Thanks for reading! <3
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ittsybittsybunny · 2 months
Text
ATLA Live Action Series Review:
The Good
Aesthetically this show felt right. Sure sometimes the outfits didn't quite feel lived in, but I always felt like I was watching a fantasy world with decent effects and interesting design. Also, I really enjoyed the sets!
Bending: Yes some of the fights feel very quick, but the bending looks cool. It is certainly better than 10 benders lifting one big rock. I can honestly say the opening bending fight scene gave me so much hope for this show.
Kyoshi Warriors: I loved seeing them in live action, and I thought Suki's performance was great!
Omashu: I think the mashup of the mechanist made sense since that is an important character overall and I would hate to see him cut. However, both Jet & the secret tunnels felt sloppily thrown in.
Northern Water Tribe: I really loved the way it looked, and appreciated the two episodes we spent here. I think Yue gained more agency in this interpretation, and why shouldn't the moon spirit be a waterbender. Also, episode seven felt the most in tune with the original show's spirit.
Zuko: I think he was one of the most fleshed-out and best parts of the show! Dallas Liu really captured Zuko's spirit, and the scene between him and Aang in episode 6 was wonderful!
Soundtrack: Hearing the original soundtrack bits is always great, and when I first heard the ending music I was so excited.
Is the show perfect, no - but I wouldn't mind a season 2.
The Bad
Pacing: Turning 20 episodes into 8 was bound to lead to some cuts...but oftentimes times things felt too quick or disjointed. I think there were editing problems contributing to this for sure, but sometimes things skipped around too much without a clear purpose as to why. Also, why bring in plots from later seasons when you barely have enough time already?
Writing: This show definitely suffered from exposition dumping, though it did get better as time went on. I think the biggest example of this is actually opening in the past rather than the present. We do not get to learn along with Aang that the world has changed, instead, we get to learn that 100 years have passed....which doesn't hold the same tension or worldbuilding.
Clunky Dialogue: Along with exposition, clunky dialogue is another example of bad writing. I think sometimes I felt like the acting was kind of meh in the beginning, but then over time I began to realize it had far more to do with the lines characters were trying to deliver. The actors themselves are not bad, just cursed with awkward writing and lines that feel out of touch with the setting they're in.
Main Trio: I don't entirely know that I believe Katara, Sokka, and Aang are friends as opposed to 3 people stuck together to save the world. Aang feels a little too somber for a young kid running away from his responsibilities, Sokka is protective, but not exactly the heart of the team, and Katara is sort of just there until the last two episodes. Where is her struggle, her desire to learn so strong she steals from pirates? Also, while Gordon Cormier did a great job, Aang does zero waterbending on his own, is overly serious, and tells Katara not to fight. Where is his desperation to protect his friends? It feels like they all lost emotional depth.
Tension: Bringing Ozai, Azula, and Zhao out in the beginning immediately causes us to lose the realization there is an even bigger bad. Part of why Ozai is so terrifying is he is a primarily silent villain until the third season when we finally see the face of the "big bad evil guy" behind it all. Yes, they add to Zuko's backstory, but again, they are revealing the villains too early. Azula is the antagonist of season 2 and one of my favorite characters, so I hope they do more with her in the future. Finally, Zhao is supposed to be an example of the uncontrollable nature of fire unrestrained, instead, he comes off as vaguely threatening with the supposed true power being Azula.
Characterization: While all characters are bound to lose something in a shorter show, it still felt like certain characters were more mutilated than others. I am sure there are 100 different opinions on who, but I think the biggest victim was Katara.
Katara: Katara manages to go from a complete novice to a bending master in what feels like a matter of days. The journey feels short, and that makes the results feel largely unearned. Katara is one of the strongest personalities in the show, determined, kind, and fiery. In many ways, she is the unpredictability of water - equally dangerous as it is necessary to live. She is the child of a war who lost her mother, forced to grow up too soon, and even raised her older brother. Yes, Katara often gets stereotyped as the mom friend, but overall she feels underutilized in this show. We really don't see enough of her journey until the very end.
Iroh: Iroh was always comedic but most importantly wise. Even when Zuko is trying to give himself advice, he mimics Iroh. Instead, he seems to be used more as comedic relief without the underlying experience. He just doesn't feel right. Also, he kills Zhao instead of Zhao getting himself killed - which is less about Iroh and more about the writing than anything.
Ozai is weirdly a little too nice. Yes, he burned Zuko and pits his kids against each other, but he feels toned down in a show claiming to be more mature than the original cartoon.
Azula is perhaps more realistically worried about losing her status as the golden child, but she is also missing the cruelty she and her father share. I understand worrying about making your character cartoonishly evil, but the Fire Nation is currently a deeply nationalistic empire trying to control the world. Where is the deep-seated belief that they are better than other people, not just trying to bring balance to the world? There is a line between creating complexity and toning down the very real evil inherent in this plan.
Roku: I can only say what the fuck was that. He was barely there, and not the serious master to Aang's youthful exuberance.
The Ugly
Show, Don't Tell: The show's single biggest issue seems to be speeding through story parts by simply stating things. Instead of allowing the audience to discover, trusting that we are smart enough to understand, let's just blatantly say things like Zuko is the only reason the 41st division is alive to their faces. Even though in the context of the story Ozai literally already said that.... it's the division, the division for Zuko, Zuko's division.
Thematic Misunderstandings: I think this show makes several minor changes with major implications, such as airbenders actively fighting the firebenders, when airbenders are known for their pacifist nature and the lie of an Airbender fighting force is actively propaganda. Similarly, Aang very quickly accepts his role as the avatar and doesn't even run away in the beginning. Without this conflict between his desire to be a carefree child and the fact that the world needs him - the show loses a key aspect of Aang's character. Also, the obsession with downplaying the avatar state as something dangerous feels like a disservice to the tradition, connection, and strength of the avatar, which can be permanently destroyed as the trade-off for that kind of power. It's dangerous for the balance of the entire world, not just because it's powerful!
The Agni Kai: Zuko's fight against his father is one of the defining moments of Ozai's cruelty, not just because he is willing to fight his child, but because Zuko tried to do everything right. Zuko shows deference to his father, apologizes, and most importantly refuses to fight! The determination not to upset his father and still be grievously injured and banished is a hugely important theme for the fire nation and Zuko's life as a whole. He tries to do everything he is supposed to and only regains his father's acceptance after he "kills" Aang. Zuko's struggle between moral vs. social right and wrong in contrast to his family is hugely important to his character.
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TLDR: ATLA was a fantastical animated television show that was never afraid to show character development and flaws. When you turn 20 episodes into 8, you are bound to lose something. You hollowed out the middle, leaving the shell of important moments and events without ever wondering if all the times in between formed the true spirit of the show.
Rating: 6.5/10 It's perfectly fine and worth a watch. Not a disaster, but certainly falls flat of the original.
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hotpinkstars · 2 months
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AHHH LOVED THE AL HAITHAM FIC SMM but if you dont mind what was going through al haithams head when he realized she left??
-> the house will never be the same again pt. 2
synopsis -> after being incredibly disrespected by your husband, alhaitham, you moved to liyue. what is going through his mind when you leave?
a/n -> AHHH i'm so happy you liked it!!! and i don't mind making a pt. 2 at all sorry this has been sitting here for a while but i hope you enjoy! here is part 1.
warnings -> all hurt no comfort, reader never turns up lol
w/c -> 1.2k
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it’s been about a week now, and you’re already settled into liyue. you’ve caught the eye of a bunch of passersby in the city- a sumeru vision wielder living in liyue harbor? 
thankfully, you had the traveler and a kind woman from the qixing named ganyu able to assist you with questions about the city. the first day you got there, she noticed your vision, and asked you all about it. it soon led to the two of you hitting off the start of a friendship in a nice restaurant- with ganyu telling you all of the things to do in liyue, the jobs that can be taken, and how magical the lantern rite especially is. you mentioned to her that you had a passion for the arts, and she immediately helped you look for a side job to make a little bit of mora to pay rent in your nice abode in the middle of the harbor.
“so, were your travels from sumeru alright? i’ve heard trudging through desert is not a very enjoyable experience..” ganyu questioned, a slight grin to be found on her face. “though, i have heard that the city down there is very nice. i would love to visit for myself one day, but with work and adeptal business it makes my days a little tight.”
you nod before replying. “the city is beautiful, especially at night. theres a gorgeous stage down there too, where a young woman named nilou always performs on special events. it’s always been the most majestic part of the city, or at least in my opinion.” 
ganyu lets out a noise of fascination, before giggling a little. “i would love to watch her dance. nilou is a familiar name, some people here strictly go to sumeru just to see her. i bet she’s as wonderful as everyone makes her out to be.” ganyu sighs. “i wonder if she travels? we have nice performing places here, too.”
you nod. “occasionally. it mostly has to be a big event for her to arrive, though.” you take another bite of your food. “but i bet if i asked her, she’d come out for at least a few days.”
that made ganyu smile once more, before she asked another question. “well, this may be an odd question, but do you have any romantic relationships?” 
“well, that's the reason i decided to move here,” now it is your turn to sigh, making ganyu have a confused look dancing across her face. “my partner and i got into an argument. he wouldn’t stop overworking himself, and i simply just wanted him to come to bed. but he’s so stubborn, and he took his work stress out on me. there was… certainly a lot of name calling.”
ganyus look of confusion immediately switches to an apologetic one. “ah, you made the right choice. that’s no way to treat your spouse.” 
you nod in agreement, before finishing your dish and pushing it slightly out in front of you. 
“well, i’m going to head back to my apartment now. this was very nice, we should do it again sometime!” you smile before standing and putting some money on the table. “here, this should be half. have a good night, ganyu!”
“goodnight to you too, y/n! i’ll see you soon.” 
now, back on alhaithams end..
he hasn’t been home in about a week and a half, due to his work causing his presence nearly 24/7. that pretty much means he hasn’t realized you’ve left yet. 
as he walks home, he doesn’t know how he would approach you. does he pretend the issue doesn’t exist? does he keep ignoring you? does he apologize? he thought his mind would split open.
as he walks through the door, he notices that the house is a little… emptier, from when the two of you lived together. he walked through the whole place, looking into the bathrooms to see your products gone. looking at the laundry room, met with no clothes that are yours hanging from the clothesline. and now, when he went to your bedroom…
your pillowcases have been stripped from the bed, and your pillow thrown into the closet. there were only a stack of two pillows, right in the middle of the bed. now his heart was thumping, and really hard. he looked through the dressers. the left side was barren, leaving only his side full. the thing that brought tears to the mans eyes was seeing your wedding ring on your side of the table. 
so you really left him. he stands there, shocked, unknowing of what to do. does he try to find you, or does he let you go? oh, how he regrets ever talking to you the way he did. if he just took your advice, you would be in bed, waiting for his arrival. likely bringing him into a hug, shaking all his worries and stress away as you whispered questions along about how his day was. 
the next few days felt like someone kept coming over to his desk and stabbing his back with blades like his. he felt so regretful, doing everything he can to stay composed while at the same time trying to find where you’ve gone. dehya won’t give him anything besides “somewhere close to sumeru that’s not sumeru.” that could mean you’ve gone to fontaine, liyue, or monstadt. how would he ever find you?
he’d ask the gaurds, and they all told him you went in the direction of the chasm. getting somewhere, but not close enough. he could walk all that way and come up empty handed. he doesn’t have an exact pinpoint on you yet. 
he’d ask nilou. she’d just shrug and say something along the lines of “i heard what happened, but i do not know fully where they went.” 
he walked the paths of the city, lost deep in thought. everyone thought it was a little out of character for someone such as him to look and feel as lost as he is. as much as people wondered what happened, they kept their mouths shut.
and for the people who noticed your absence, too, they’d ask different people who would likely have knowledge. but alhaitham didn’t know where to go now. he could walk the whole chasm and still not have you turn up. he could check every apartment complex in liyue harbor, and knock on every door on the outskirts. he could sail the seas to inazuma, and walk every separate island to see who may be housing you, or what commission you may have been taken in by. he could fall down the very waterfall that leads an entrance to the enchanting location called enkanomiya. he could go to fontaine, dive under the waters, walk every rocky mountain, and even visit the fortress of meropide. he could fight every monster near the city of monstadt, looking upon every rooftop for signs of your art, blown through the city of wind. but he still wouldn’t find you.
now what he doesn’t know is that you’re in liyue harbor, and nobody frets to tell him that anytime soon. for now, they’re just going to let him suffer, the same way he let you.
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loriache · 4 days
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Kabru, impossible mutual understanding & unknowable objects
Despite his concerted and constant efforts to understand other people, it’s established in a few extras that Kabru believes that true mutual understanding between certain different races is impossible. Specifically, between long-lived and short-lived races, and between humans and demi-humans. Partially, we can trace this conviction back to specific hang-ups caused by his life; the trauma of the Utaya disaster, prejudices he carries from his childhood, and his experience of racism among the elves. In this “little” essay, I’m gonna discuss how I think those experiences formed this belief, how it comes out in his actions, and how some of his actions seem to contradict it. The question of whether it’s possible to reach mutual understanding with other living beings despite our differences is one of the core themes of the manga, and I’ll also touch on how this aspect of Kabru’s character links to that.
Seeking understanding
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Kabru is a character who devotes a huge amount of time and effort to understanding people, and he is very good at it. In his internal monologue, we can tell how advanced and complex his skills of analysis are. He is able to read a huge amount of information just from looking at people's faces and body language.
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People are, to him, what monsters are to Laios. This is something that's been expanded on at length in other, excellent meta. It's the fact that they're foils; it's the fact that Kabru is also very easy to read as autistic, with a special interest which is the opposite and parallel of Laios'. It's something that came out of trauma and alienation, as Laios' special interest in monsters also began as a coping mechanism.
The complicated origin of this "love" for monsters and for people comes through, I think, in the fact that one of the places we see both characters use their fixation is in being very, very good at killing the thing that they love. This also ties into the idea that loving something isn't even remotely mutually exclusive with using it to sustain your own survival; using it for your own purposes; hurting it or killing it. Love can be, and often is, violent, possessive and consumptive. This understanding is part of what makes Kui's depiction of interpersonal relationships so compelling to me.
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While Laios fixated on monsters and animals to seek a place of escape, in both his imagination and his self-image, from the humans who he couldn't understand and who couldn't understand him, Kabru seems to have fixated on understanding people in order to navigate the complex, socially marginal places that he has been forced into throughout his life. As an illegitimate child raised by a single mother with an appearance that marked him out as different to the point his father's family wanted to kill him, and a tallman child raised among elves who didn't treat him as fully human and wanted him to perform gratefulness for that treatment – treatment that, after he met Rin at age 9, he certainly always understood could be a lot worse – his ability to work out what people wanted from him, whether they were friendly or hostile or had ulterior motives, wasn’t just an interest. It will have been an essential skill.  
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Milsiril, I think, was a flawed parent who tried to do her best by Kabru and did a lot of harm to him despite her best intentions. She may have treated him much better than an average elf would have, but like Otta and Marcille's mother, there are other elves with different outlooks on short-lived races. How would they judge her treatment of him? We don’t have any insight on what it could be, but to be honest, the person’s whose opinion of her I’d be most interested in knowing is Rin’s.
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But even if she'd been perfect, living as an trans-racial adoptee in a deeply hierarchical nation with a queen who is a 'staunch traditionalist' who wouldn't even acknowledge the existence of a half-elf like Marcille (according to Cithis) is an experience that would deeply impact anyone.
Elves & Impossible mutual understanding
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While Kabru was living with Milsiril - in other words, while living in the Northern Central Continent - he came to believe that "there was no way to achieve mutual understanding with the long-lived races."
This is evident in his political project: he wants short-lived races to have ownership over the dungeon's secrets. Despite his dislike of the Lord of the Island, he's a useful bulwark to stop the elves taking over. Despite his doubts about Laios, Laios needs to be the one to defeat the dungeon, because if he doesn't the elves will take over.
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Kabru still carries a deep scar from Utaya, one that was exacerbated by the fact that he never got an answer to any of his questions about what happened or why. This, despite the fact that Milsiril knows about the demon and how it works. Do you think Kabru, with his social perceptiveness that borders on the superhuman, wasn't aware that she knew more than she would tell him?
Given that, the fact that he gets to a place where he "doesn't have any particularly negative feelings about [elves/long-lived species]" .... well, to put it bluntly, I believe that he thinks that's the case, but I kind of doubt it. After all, if he did have resentment, of Milsiril (someone who was his primary provider and caretaker since age six, and who despite her flaws, loves him and who I do think he loves) or of elves (who he has had to play nice with for most of his life, in order to survive, and will still have to play nice with in order to achieve his goals, since they hold all the power) what would that do except hurt him and make his life harder? Kabru is Mr. Pragmatic, so I don't think he'd let himself acknowledge any such feelings he did have. Exactly because he can't acknowledge them, they're well placed to get internalised as beliefs about the Fundamental Unchangeable Nature of the World.
However, these stated beliefs seem to contradict his actions. Despite his belief in the impossibility of forming a mutual understanding, he certainly seems to try to understand long-lived people, just as much as he does short-lived people. There's no noticeable difference between his treatment of Daya & Holm versus Mickbell & Rin that isn't clearly down to their relationship with him. His skills of human analysis were honed and developed while living amongst elves, and as soon as he's alone with Mithrun he immediately sets to understanding him - his interests, his motivations, his needs, and his past.
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He treats him considerately and without bias, and despite the fact that Mithrun conquering the dungeon for the elves is both a reenactment of a core part of his childhood trauma and a political disaster for his aims, that doesn't seem to colour his perspective on Mithrun negatively at all.
This is something I find extremely laudable about Kabru, and it's another way he parallels Laios. He seems to understand that people, as a rule, (in Laios' case, he understands this about monsters - and eventually, all living beings) will act in their own interests, and if those interests conflict with yours, might harm you. But that's just their nature, and it's not something that should be held against them; you're also doing the same thing, after all. The crux of Laios' arc is precisely that he has to accept the responsibility of hurting someone else in order to achieve what he wants.
Kabru is deeply concerned with his own morals, what he should and shouldn't do, but mostly in the context of responsibility for the consequences - a responsibility he takes onto himself. He isn't scrupulous about what he needs to do in order to create the outcome he wants, but if he fails to create that outcome, then....
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He blames himself to the point of thinking he should die. He doesn't blame Laios, or seem at all angry with him, despite concluding he should have killed him to prevent this outcome. That's because in his eyes, ultimately Laios was going to act according to his own nature, and it's Kabru's fault for not understanding that nature well enough. He's extremely confident in his ability to understand and predict others, (including elves and other long-lived people). Then, where does his conviction that mutual understanding is impossible come from?
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Partially, it's the "mutual" part. I'm sure Kabru, who isn't able or willing to deny Otta's insinuation that Milsiril saw him more like a pet than a son, has felt that his full interiority, the depth of his feelings and his ability to grow, act, and think as a fully equal being, was something that the elves around him just couldn't grasp. Because that was their excuse for it, he came to understand this as a gulf between short-lived and long-lived beings, an inevitable difference in outlook caused by their different lifespans.
This experience might be part of what leads to his iconic “fake” behaviour. He trusts his ability to understand others, but if they aren’t able to understand him, then there isn’t any benefit to being honest about his feelings and thoughts. If his attempts to reach mutual understanding with his caretakers were never able to be fulfilled, then it isn’t any wonder that he reacts with such surprise and horror at blurting out his desire to be Laios’ friend.
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In his experience, making yourself vulnerable in that way only leads to being hurt. Soothing him, hushing him, lying to him, talking to him like a child that isn’t able to use proper judgement – that’s an inadequate and deeply hurtful way to respond to genuine distress, the desire for autonomy, or disagreement. Ultimately, I think that’s why he comes out on the side of being grateful to Milsiril; because she did equip him with the skills and knowledge he’d need to reach his goal, and let him go.
Though he could understand them, they couldn't understand him. To the extent that was true - which I'm sure it was - it wasn't due to anything about lifespan. It was due to the elves’ racism, and the solipsitic mindset & prejudiced attitude that it caused them to approach him with.
Because, if it needs to be said, the idea that there is an unbreachable gap in understanding between the long-lived and short-lived species is not true. Marcille and Laios have a much greater difference in lifespan than any full elf from any short-lived person, and they’re able to understand each other – maybe not perfectly, but better than many other people who are closer in life-span to them.
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That doesn’t mean that I think Kabru is wrong about this, however. Because there’s an interpretation of his statement that is reflected in his actions and is true. When he talks about his problem with elves, it’s not just their attitudes: it’s their power, and what they use it to do. They “explain nothing and take everything”. Though it’s presented in the guise of ‘guiding and protecting’, in fact it’s a simple case of a powerful nation using their military power, wealth, access to resources, and historically stolen land – including the island itself – to protect their own interests and advance their own agenda. That’s why they’d be able to show up, seize the dungeon, and forcibly take Kabru’s party and Laios’ party to the West. If Kabru wants to stop that from happening, or change that status quo, persuasion or a bid to be understood would be completely pointless. Between the political blocs formed by long-lived species and the interests of short-lived species, “mutual understanding”, given their current, unequal terms, would be impossible. This is something that we see reflected in Kabru’s actions; before he asks his questions about the dungeon, he grabs Mithrun as leverage. He never really attempts to persuade the canaries to see his point of view, because that would be pointless: they’re agents of the Northern Central Continent’s monarchy, and will act in its interests regardless of any individual relationship with him.  
I don’t think Kabru sees the different dimensions of this belief of his in quite such clear terms, however, as is evidenced by the other group who he thinks it’s impossible to communicate with.
Demi-Humans & Unknowable Objects
The other place that we see his conviction about the impossibility of mutual understanding is in the kobold extra.
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I'm including the whole thing, because I think it's an excellent and clever piece of world-building. Aside from what it says about Kabru, which I'll expand on shortly, what this extra does is deconstruct and call into question the usual "fantasy ontological biology" present in these sort of DnD-like settings. Essentially, the kind of worldbuilding where a race (such as kobolds) can be described as war-like, and that's establishing something essential about their biological nature. That's common to the point that if Kui didn't include this, some people would probably come away thinking that's the case about, e.g., the orcs.
But here, despite what Kabru is saying, the information the reader actually gets is:
the conflict between short-lived humans and demi-humans such as kobolds is mostly over access to material resources that they need to survive.
These resources are scarce because powerful nations, such as the elves, have monopolised them.
Kabru, who has grown up in a place at the centre of these conflicts, ascribes essential, negative traits to a cultural group which was in direct conflict with his own. Communication with this other group is impossible; they aren't people, they're more like objects.
oh yes! just like this conflict between groups of tall-men, a conflict which the reader will immediately interpret as more clearly analogous to real-life racism. Our other protagonists also carry prejudices from growing up in a place where a marginalised group was in conflict with the dominant group over scarce resources. It's definitely impossible to communicate with these people, and you can only kill them.
Woah, when you say it like that, it sounds pretty bad!
But also, nobody walks away having had a realisation or unlearned their prejudices - because they don't have the tools they need to do that work. Yet. I do think, to an extent, it could happen - especially with Kabru, since it's suggested in the epilogue that Melini might become a safe-haven for demi-humans.
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To focus in on Kabru, the key here is his statement that you should think of demi-humans as "unknowable objects". Even his extraordinary powers of understanding have seemingly hit a limit. Part of this is just inherited prejudice, and doesn't need to have a complicated psychological explanation, any more than the elves who were prejudiced against him need one.
But also... this is probably somewhat linked to the way demi-humans seem to be considered "pseudo-monsters". They're the place that the strict delineation between the human and the monstrous is permeated. Laios, who is not interested in humans, remembers and is excited by Kuro. Chilchuck and Laios argue over whether it's OK to eat a mermaid. Kabru's prepared to (pretend to) roll with the idea that Laios ate the orcs.
But these are people, aren't they? Of course, this is a social construction, as we see from the fact that in the Eastern Archipelago, the label of "human" is reserved for tallmen, but in most of the rest of the world it depends on some obviously arbirary classification based on number of bones; "demi-humans" aren't in any essential way monstrous, except to an extent in their appearance, and physical location - due to their marginal social status, they're pushed out to live in unsafe places such as dungeons.
Therefore, Kabru's view of demi-humans as fundamentally "other", unable to be understood - monstrous - could be read as akin to abjection, the psychoanalytical concept described by Julia Kristeva. In order to create a bounded, secure superego, that thing which permeates and calls into question the border between self and other, human and animal, life and death, is rejected and pushed to the margin.
“Not me. Not that. But not nothing, either. A "something" that I do not recognize as a thing.[...] On the edge of nonexistence and hallucination, of a reality that, if I acknowledge it, annihilates me. There, abject and abjection are my safeguards. The primers of my culture.” (Kristeva et al., 1984, p. 11) “It is thus not lack of cleanliness or health that causes abjection but what disturbs identity, system, order. ” (Kristeva et al., 1984, p. 13) “The pure will be that which conforms to an established taxonomy; the impure, that which unsettles it, establishes intermixture and disorder. [...] the impure will be those that do not confine themselves to one element but point to admixture and confusion.” (Kristeva et al., 1984, p. 107) (discussing food prohibitions in Leviticus)
This is both (due to its affinity with food-loathing and disgust) a very fruitful concept to apply to dunmeshi, and a psychoanalytical theory which I wouldn't exactly cosign as True Facts About Human Psychological Development. You may also know the abject from its utilisation in the classic essay "Horror and the Monstrous-Feminine" by Barbara Creed - that's a lot more approachable than Kristeva if anyone's interested.
Key here, though, is that through the symbol of the "demi-human" is embodied a step between "human" and "monster" - and that's a prospect that puts at risk the whole notion of an absolute separation between those two categories in the first place. To Laios, that's something wonderful, and to Kabru, it's terrifying. We can see this principle further embodied in the relationship both characters have with the notion of becoming monstrous.
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To Laios, this is transcendent, and represents a renunciation of everything human - in fact, if it didn't, it wouldn't "count".
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To Kabru, it's a deeply-held fear, established by his childhood alienation (due to his illegitimacy, his eyes, and perhaps also his neurodivergency), deepened by monster-related trauma and the sense of responsibility and survivors guilt he feels for what happened at Utaya. His identity as a human who is not monstrous is key to his sense of stability and safety; he doesn't want to touch monsters, he doesn't even want to see them.
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To acknowledge a kinship, a possibility of similarity between the things he loves (humans) and the things he hates (monsters) would be more than touching them - it would be putting them inside him. We know, quite explicitly, that this notion is triggering to Kabru. He literally has what seems to be a flashback when he's about to eat the harpy omelette.
So he abjects it, classifying the demi-human as fundamentally unlike him - an unknowable object, or an object that he refuses to know. Because in understanding it, he would interject the things he hates and fears into his self, which is already, always under threat by that hated and feared object.
Of course, again, Kabru isn't very good at enacting this refusal in practice. For one, when he chooses between his desires and ingesting the feared object, eating monsters... he eats monsters. Part of this is treating himself badly, the "ends justify the means" mentality. His goal is to destroy all monsters, so if he needs to become monster-like to do that, he will. But part of it is also the other motivation that he didn't even seem to know about until he said it: he wants to become Laios' friend, and to learn from him how a person can like monsters. He wants, at least in some part of him, to reconcile the feared and hated object into something he can understand.
For another:
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Kabru can speak the kobold language. In the first place, while this may have been common in Utaya, it also could have been something he chose to learn, an early expression of his interest in understanding and talking to all sorts of people. It isn't the kind of thing you learn if you believe that communication between yourself and the group that speak it is impossible, is it?
It's possible to harbour prejudices against a group while being kind to an individual, and given Kabru has those prejudices regardless of his reasons, that is what he is doing. But also, his treatment of Kuro doesn't reflect a sincerely held belief that he's an "unknowable object" at all. His approach is exactly the same as it is to any other person: an analysis of goal and motive, and an attempt to help if he's sympathetic and their goals align - going out of his way to give language and local knowledge lessons in secret. His conviction that Mickbell and Kuro will truly become friends when they can properly communicate is completely contradictory to any sense of demi-humans as fundamentally different, or impossible to reach mutual understanding with. To me, it seems like this self-protective shield against the corruptive force demi-humans as an idea present to his identity, this abjection, when Kabru is face-to-face with one, just simply can't hold up against his finely honed skill of intellectual empathy. Perhaps because he's autistic, it seems his "empathy" is less an emotional mirror response, and more a set of cognitive skills for analysis of others. That instinctual, emotional empathy might not trigger when presented with a member of an out-group, but if it’s possible for Kabru to turn his cognitive empathy off, we don’t see him do it.
This isn't to say that this prejudice doesn't affect his behaviour. For one, it could negatively impact his judgement of politics and policy, where individual people don't enter into it. For another, I'm not convinced he'd be willing to overlook Mickbell's exploitative relationship with Kuro if Kuro wasn't a kobold. As it is, since both of them are satisfied, he doesn't feel like he needs to intervene, regardless of the fact Mickbell isn't paying Kuro. But if Daya and Holm were in a relationship, and Holm took both Daya's and his own share from their ventures, but only compensated her in living expenses and kept the rest, do you think he'd tolerate it, for example? Even if she said it was OK?
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Conclusion
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The kelpie chapter establishes that "people can never know what monsters are really thinking." That isn't just true of monsters, though.
True mutual understanding is impossible - between anyone. We can never truly understand another person's heart. This is touched on in, for example, the existence of shapeshifters and dopplegangers. Even a monster that seemed like a perfect copy of a person wouldn’t be that person, and wouldn’t be a satisfactory replacement.
We’re intended, I think, to understand the winged lion's repeated suggestions to just replace people who have been lost with copies as something uncanny, which demonstrates the way that the winged lion never manages to attain a complete understanding of humans. A version of a person who was created to fulfil your memories of them, to be the person who you wanted them to be, would be a terrible, miserable thing.
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Disagreeing, coming into conflict, and misunderstanding each other, are essential parts of what it means to be living beings, as fundamental as the need to eat.
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The only thing to do is not to take more than you need to eat to survive, and not impose your own desires onto others. To do your best to sincerely communicate your desires, even if they're embarrassing or vulnerable or strange, like Kabru eventually does with Laios; like Laios does, bit by bit, with the people around him; like Marcille does, Chilchuck does, Senshi does... to hope they will accept you, and do your best to understand them in return.
We can re-examine, in that context, Kabru's line about the elves' tendency to "explain nothing and take everything".
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They have the power to impose their preferred "menu" onto less powerful groups. And in that context, mutual understanding being impossible just means that they won't give up their power because they're asked nicely. Kabru's goal is to seize the truth that they won't give to him, and to create a situation where they can't take everything. Because he's accurately surmised that nothing about the treatment of short-lived races will change so long as the power imbalance remains. Despite the way he mistakenly ascribes part of that to "long-lived vs short-lived" or "human vs demi-human", the actual gulfs in understanding he identifies are structural, are about power and about access to material resources and safety.
I think he could come to recognise this. Yaad is teaching him political science after all, and while a prince's lessons on political science won't exactly get at much that's radical or invested in the interests and perspectives of the marginalised (Capital is a critique of for a reason after all...) I believe in Kabru's ability to learn critically and get more from a lesson than it was intended to teach.
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hiraeth-sonder · 15 days
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Maladroit Admirer - Rongguo
Danheng x Reader - University AU
Becoming entranced with the most plain looking guy in your tutorial classes leads to a series of very bad, not good fumbles
//So so so so enamoured with the idea of just NPC looking Danheng, short little thingy that I had to get out. Poem is  寄人 by 张泌.
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别梦依依到谢家, 小廊回合曲阑斜。
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
You don’t think there’s a difference between a crush and love at this point because being in university and adamantly staring at what might be the most boring looking man in this entire sea of people certainly can’t just be a momentary attraction. Short dark hair, dark eyes, decent fashion style and in a business unit, he wasn’t anything special, and yet you just couldn’t, for the life of you couldn’t, take your damned eyes off him. 
It was ridiculous, you’ve never even spoken to him, looked at him in the eyes even, but here your heart was, pounding against your ribs begging for more. Every time you walk into that horrifically cold room, freezing your shoulders off because if you brought a jacket you’d be sweating from the journey, you see him already there at some table you won’t sit at because you’re afraid of him. Because you’re a nervous wreck and you know that if you had to talk to him during discussion, all you’d do is hum and agree and have no opinion on your own. Which, you’d like to keep some part of your dignity still, so no thank you. 
There has been no man, woman even, that has rendered you so stupid. It must be some kind of witchcraft, there was no other explanation for the grip this man had on you. 
You try your best, your absolute best, to focus on the question ahead of you, not like it was actually hard. However, seeing as you were in a small table of three, had an ethics question and you were hyper-aware of every action you made because of that damned man, you certainly weren’t at your peak performance today. 
With your table’s assigned question out of the way, the two of them went on to discuss the rest, or rather you and the person next to you since you two were the only ones who attempted the exercise. The discussion didn’t go bad, merely boring and strained seeing as you’ve never actually talked to anyone in this class, so when the exact same person asked to see your graphs. You, of course, took that as a very bad chance to make a joke. 
“Just to warn you, I bullshitted my graphs, so if they’re wrong don’t blame me,” You joked, raising your hands in mock-guile.
Somehow, some-god-forsaken-how, despite being in a room speaking at a normal conversational level surrounded by other people talking, everyone heard you. And everyone is staring at you. Great, absolutely great. Ducking your head, you pretend to type something else on your computer. You can only pray that you never see anyone in this class ever again, or have to talk to them (which wasn’t going to happen but you could pretend).
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice his eyes glancing between you and the rest of his table, a kind of vacant stare if you will. Your ears grow hot at this revelation, he must think you’re a total idiot, or a buffoon, whichever one because you might as well be all the ways you could refer to someone as stupid. How you longed to return to the cold dark earth, maybe you wouldn’t say things that made you sound like some brainless highschooler. 
By the time the tutorial ends, you’ve already debated ending it all at least three times. With your computer and singular pencil packed up, you absentmindedly head towards the exit, weaving through strewn chairs and the awkwardly placed tables. It is then you notice a familiar someone’s form standing at the door. 
Your eyes slowly shift up and who else could it be but the very man who rendered your brain mush, holding the door open and gesturing for you to go. 
You barely meet his eyes, bowing your head and quickly scurrying off, at least not before blurting out a quick “Thank you.”
With the speed of a falcon, your footsteps scamper off, hefting your heavy tote bag you now wonder why you brought. Tucking your earphones in, you try your best at nonchalance and it works, for about six steps until the tip of your shoe catches against some crack in the path and you have to walk off the even more public embarrassment. 
In the distance, he watches you trip on your own feet and your shoe almost gets stuck on the carpeted pathway. An amused breath escapes him and he wonders what exactly about you is so endearing to him. Danheng swears he has never met someone as oddly appealing even with your little fumbles, and by now he’s given up trying to figure it out. 
He’ll find some way to approach you later, when his palms aren’t trying to sweat the skin off of them and his head isn’t going at a thousand thoughts per second. He only hopes you didn’t notice his continuous staring, or the fact that his hand slipped and missed the first time he tried to grab the door handle.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
多情只有春庭月,犹为离人照落花。
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antiphilosophia · 9 months
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Crowley's pre-fall name is BARAQIEL (THEORY)
THIS POST MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS OR RATHER CLUES FOR GOOD OMENS SEASON 2 CONTENTS, PROCEED WITH CAUTION 🤍
Very well. Who doesn't love the Crowley is the Archangel Raphael theory (I am certainly of those people who do). During my first watch of Good Omens S2 I was even somehow almost confident that that was the case.
However, my second, more careful, viewing of this lovely (but equally heartbreaking) season made me change my mind, likely for good. In episode 4, Furfur's book "Demon's Guide To Angelic Beings Who Walk The Earth" shows us a name of a certain angel Baraqiel. (see photo below) Knowing Good Omens that can hardly be a coincidence.
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Unfortunately, the very text is quite unreadable. One thing, other than the name, which is pretty clear is the subheading "Angel of the Sky" and since the episode 1 lets us take a look at how Crowley did indeed take part in creation of what is to be seen in the night sky, one can hardly find that entirely non-fitting. One other sentence I was (at least I think) able to read is "Often draped in red."
(On a different note but certainly worth noticing are scribbles that generally just roast Crowley – his suspiciousness, hair and name (though I am not absolutely sure of the latter) "His hair is bad!" Wow, Furfur really does hate Crowley.)
Then there is something written above the name of Baraqiel, unfortunately in none of the picture frames does it get a bit readable. I wonder though, couldn't it be "former"? Since it comes precisely after mention of Crowley to whom should one report on Aziraphale.
Crowley is very powerful. Dominion
A word that is not exactly readable but can be deduced from its placement (it is situated just as Aziraphale's "Principality") is Baraqiel's rank – Dominion Angel. It should be noted here that I very much lack proper knowledge of either Jewish or Christian mythology and I would hate to provide any incorrect claims. I therefore think it is better for me not to overly state things, even more so since everyone can look into it on their own and figure out what that might mean for our beloved demon. What I will say, however, is that they are (as I understand it) very powerful and, placed within the 2nd triad in the angel hierarchy, ranked higher than the Archangels. This would go well along with the emphasis that was in my opinion laid on Crowley's powers quite a lot this season.
For example: "A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of archangels could've performed," said Shax to Crowley, to which he replied: "How'd you know I didn't do it?" He didn't get an answer.
What I think (and I may be very wrong, obviously) is that a miracle of this vastness wouldn't have happened simply because of a regular angel and a regular demon did together half a miracle each. What is also worth noticing is that the tool with which Crowley created the Nebula is the same as the one he used to temporarily stop time at the end of season 1 right before Satan's arrival. So much to the size of his powers.
Baraqiel, lightning of God. Fallen angel
Finally, to Baraqiel himself. My lack of knowledge concerning this matter still stands and frankly I don't even know where to find valid information about angels and such on the internet. Baraqiel should, however, stand for "lightning of God" and is also regarded as the angel of lightning. In season 2 there are (as far as I remember) two occasions where Crowley is put in correlation with lightning. (1) His poor anger management issues in episode 1 and (2) his not at all better matchmaking in episode 3 ("I haven't done weather in ages"). Furthermore, Baraqiel is considered to be the one who taught astrology to people. Nevertheless, what points to Crowley and Baraqiel being one even more is that Baraqiel is indeed a fallen angel.
So... That is probably it. I usually tent to theorize about stuff in quiet, in fact, this is the first time I've used Tumblr for anything other than reading Neil Gaiman's posts. I didn't even think that I would actually post it but then I've searched on Twitter, TikTok and here on Tumblr if anyone else has already come up with this theory. The only post I could find (hopefully I haven't missed anything) was by @valaza_04 on Twitter (click here) where they refer to the same frame shot as I do here.
Now I know, we are still recovering from heartbreaking (but if you ask me, absolutely amazing) finale and the main thing currently on our minds is figuring out why would Aziraphale choose as he did and the many wonderful theories that come with it. However, considering the utterly virulent look that Metatron shot at Crowley before walking out of the bookshop with Aziraphale and also his "Well, [Crowley] always did want to go his own way. Always asking damn fool questions, too." makes me think that he absolutely does not care for Crowley and whichever angel he was before the Fall. And I reckon it won't remain unnoticed in season 3 and might even be really important (or that is just me wishing for more pre-fall Crowley scenes). Hence I decided that I will post this. And it doesn't matter if no one will see this in the end, it was quite fun to write. However, if there is someone who will read this all the way through, I hope they will accept my apology for the mistakes I have most possibly made (English is not my first language) and also for the ridiculous length this post has come to gather. It turns out, I am just as chatty of a writer as I am speaker.
Well maybe I will come around to write one more post about this theory, only with a proper research this time. Till then thank you and, please, support this season by streaming as much as you can so we can have season 3 of this masterpiece of a show. And be kind to those bringing it to us in your comments regarding the ending, even though it is very frustrating and heart-shattering, it is also maybe the best ending we could have hoped for with the prospects of season 3.
Thank you for letting me talk my heart out, Tumblr.
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silent-browser · 11 months
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*sigh* oh the tragic romance of a merfolk x human story. Neither can be with the other without giving up something important. Usually fins for legs. Also usually their entire family to simply love and exist with this person in a different biosphere. Rarely legs for fins if we wanna go a reverse little mermaid here.
But what if it was different. And no one had to give everything up. And maybe yandere. With a bit of soulmate shenanigans thrown in for flavor.
Imagine if you will, a walk on an empty beach. Headphones in, listening to your favorite song and sining along. Kicking up sand and the smell of the ocean air. Just minding your own business and having a good time by yourself.
Or so you think. Because not far from where you are walking a single quiet audience member hides behind some rocks, wondering why your song, your human song, sounds so similar to their soul song.
The song that they would normally perform for other merfolk in hopes of attracting their perfect life partner. But they had never garnered any attention for it.
So how did you, a weak and squishy human get them so immediately. No creature had ever been so close to repeating his own soul song back to him. And with your own little twist too. Human words and slightly different notes in his soul song. Your song. Our song. He soon found himself refering to it in his mind.
It takes a while of them impatiently waiting for your return and slowly learning your 'walks on the beach' schedule for them to finally make their move.
On the day that changed the rest of your life, you were simply walking along and humming softly to your favorite song once again when you heard the most fantastic voice start to follow along the melody with you. They matched your tone and moved their voice in such a way that it felt like an instant musical connection.
They were worried that you would stop and run away when they started but tried not to let that fear taint their song. If you ran further inland they would have a very hard time following you. Not impossible but certainly difficult. So they took your continued humming as a good sign and continued.
They began to dribble their emotions into the notes. The lonelyness. The fear of an uncaring ocean. The rush of affection they felt when they first heard you singing. The need to see you. Hold you.
Slowly, what started out as a dribble became a riptide of intense emotions they never knew they were capable of feeling. Longing. Jealousy. Want and need so powerful he felt like he would wear out his voice singing it all. By the time he stopped he was mortified that he put all of that on you. And before the first courting gift too! He suddenly felt awful. He gutted his soul when he never ment to and you weren't even singing anymore. What if you didn't want them? What if it was all too much for you? What if you left and never came back!?
You were stunned. Breathless. The emotion. The raw intensity. No words were ever sang and yet the song resonated in the very depths of your being. You felt intimidated to ever even think of humming ever again after that impromptu masterpiece. You wanted to respond but couldn't find the words to, much less the notes like they had. So you instead made your way to the shore where the music seemed to come from and searched. Looking for this person who simultaneously swept you off your feet and explained their life story in one song with no words.
Two star crossed lovers. Separated by the sea. One filled with obsession. The other with curiousity. Both wish desperately to meet and yet both are not quite ready. How strange that love can both bind and seperate. How strange indeed.
Idk where to go with this so no continuations for this one unless I suddenly get inspired. Also the end feels really jarring to me. Mostly because I originally intended for this to continue but I couldn't come up with anything so I just cut it lose. I hope you like it none the less.
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Take Care Of Her - Charles Leclerc
Summary: A former teammate steps in when he sees Charles unintentionally neglecting his relationship and makes him see where he's going wrong.
It's been a hot minute since I've done a Charles fic that isn't requested. Basically I miss Seb and I saw this clip and was like...ok we're writing a Charles fic featuring Seb. I hope that's ok.
Side pairing: Reader x protective platonic friend!Seb
Themes: Neglectful boyfriend!Charles but also reader neglectful to herself due to struggling mentally, some matter of not eating enough food not ED but may not be what some people what to read about (it is pretty brief), happy/hopeful ending
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Seb and y/n did end up with a bit of bond and friendship throughout his time as Charles' teammate. There might have been points of tension between Charles and Seb, but y/n never had any moments that pushed a wedge between herself and the champion.
Even with him no longer in Ferrari, y/n will stop and speak to him at least once a weekend.
Seb is a bit protective over y/n because of the friendship. In his time in Ferrari, when she became a victim of some nasty stories in the media, he'd defend her alongside Charles.
But times have changed.
And while y/n is still ever present for her boyfriend, Charles seems almost distant and while he will have y/n by his side. It's obvious to everyone, especially Seb, that y/n has been sort of ignored by her previously obsessed boyfriend.
Today, Charles walks into the paddock and he's talking to Joris while holding y/n's hand as she tries to keep up with him. She's looking at him with the same loving and admiring expression she's worn every time she's looked at him since they started dating. That being during the his first summer break at Ferrari.
There's nothing wrong with y/n and Charles' dynamic and almost everyone can tell the neglect simply comes from Charles being so focused on trying to improve things when it comes to the car and his performance. The Ferrari 2021 car hasn't impressed anyone.
"Alright, I'll see you later." Charles states as he finally turns to y/n kissing her quickly before he moves with Joris seeming to go for his track walk.
Y/n mumbles a bye with a smile before she spots Seb watching them and practically bursts into a beaming smile. It's also no secret she was a huge Seb fan in his Red Bull days and that spanned into his Ferrari move and she continues to show her support for Seb in Aston Martin.
"Seb." Y/n grins moving to hug the older man. their friendship has been suspected as something more but it really is very much platonic and almost more of fan who managed to get close to their idol more than anything else.
"Hi, y/n. How are you doing?" Seb asks, always making sure to ask before any conversation properly starts.
"I'm good. A little tired with all the travelling...and Charles is...well he's not happy with the car." Y/n admits making Seb nod. "They didn't manage much improvement on last year."
He bites his tongue a little since while he doesn't hold anything about his departure against anyone really, it certainly still hurt.
"How are things in green?"
"They're ok. Not as bad as they could be and I'm happy." Seb shrugs making her nod before he realises her eyes are watering a little. "Are you alright?"
"Yes. I...umm...stupid dust around the paddock." She sighs shaking her head and rubbing at her eyes.
Y/n is one of those people who is generally always so happy and really no one can fault her for it. But seeing her try to cover up sadness, seeing tears in her eyes. That's a different kind of sight and it stirs an emotion that Seb has only ever felt when he saw his own daughters cry for something that's beyond his control.
"I should let you go, I'm sure you have things you should be doing." Y/n smiles then clearing her throat and shifting to hug him again before she disappears and he sighs.
It's not his business, it's not his place to speak to Charles about his relationship. But seeing y/n lie to cover up, that's not something any woman should have to do.
-
Charles sighs as he climbs out his car and moves around only to find himself confronted by his old teammate actually moving his helmet so he looks at him.
"We need to talk." Seb states making Charles frown but he still respects and admires Seb, even with the tension they sometimes had. Charles values his time with Seb as a teammate and he knows that y/n absolutely adores the older driver.
They get weighed as usual and move through till they find a corner to talk in.
"Charles, I know this season is not being easy. But I think there might be something wrong with y/n. She was talking to me earlier and just...sort of started to cry. I know it's not my place, but it's not like her and I think you should know." Seb states making Charles frown and he knows it's not really the brightest idea to tell Charles how to treat is girlfriend. "You need to take care of her. I am not the only one who has noticed the change in her and it's not nice to see."
"She was crying?" Charles questions making Seb nod almost hesitantly before he hears Charles curse under his breath. "Thank you, I need to go."
Aka he needs to go rush his media duties and debrief so he can get to his girlfriend quicker. The post race rush of events means he has to wait, but the moment he's done, he will be getting to her with urgency.
Meanwhile, y/n sighs as she walks out to the Ferrari unit. Having sat with Joris for a bit in the garage.
By the time Charles finally gets to y/n, she is basically ready to leave for the day. Having packed up her stuff and almost waiting for Charles to get in and change into normal clothes so they can leave.
"Hey, baby." Charles greets making her look at him.
That's when it practically slaps him in the face. The changes he's failed to notice in the girl he does genuinely love so much. His heart aches seeing the paler tint to her skin, the bags under her eyes and the colour drained from her iris'.
Now he's really looking, he's really paying attention. He can see what he's not been noticing.
"Mon amour." Charles frowns moving towards her and his sudden very close attention nearly scares her enough for her to step back with a look of confusion.
"What wrong?"
"I think I should be asking that." Charles sighs before gently cupping her face. "I haven't been a good boyfriend."
"You have."
"No. No. I haven't and I have been so bad that Seb had to pull me aside to point out that I hadn't even noticed you weren't yourself." Charles mutters shaking his head while she looks at him for a moment. "I'm sorry."
"Don't do that. Don't make it seem like you did it one purpose." Y/n grumbles shaking her head. "Can we just go home?"
"Yes."
And he has no intentions to leave her side unless absolutely necessary or for a matter of less than a minute.
-
By the time they're in Monaco, Charles has fussed over y/n enough that she almost feels smothered. But she'd be lying if she said it didn't feel nice. To the point she really hadn't realised how much she missed her boyfriend's attention and how much she hadn't been getting it till he started making the effort again to pay attention to her.
Right now they're lying in bed post-sex, another thing neither of them realised they'd gone so long without. Safe to say, Charles fully intended to make up for lost time when it dawned on him that they'd accidentally been celibate for over a month.
"You need to eat." Charles states softly after having spent the better part of half an hour drain shapes on her tummy which had definitely shrunk, her ribs sticking out much more now than they did a few months ago. So she's lost weight. "Have you been eating?...Be honest."
He hates having to ask that question. Because he should know. They should be eating together even if they're not eating the same thing.
"A little, I just forget and usually you eat without me so I just kind of skip meals so I don't miss out on time with you." Y/n shrugs and Charles nearly launches himself up. "W-Where are you going?"
"To make you something to eat." Charles states making her scramble up, grabbing some shorts and a hoodie as she stumbles to chase him.
"No, Charles. I'll make something." Y/n rushes out earning a frown. "Please...I'll make something for both of us?"
Charles continues to frown before it clicks why she's not letting him cook.
"You think I'll make bad food."
"Baby...the pasta...you made crunchy pasta." Y/n grimaces while he sighs in defeat. "You can help, but I'm supervising everything."
"It means more time with you." Charles nods before smiling and picking her up with a kiss on her cheek. "I'm not going to let this happen again...you are a priority, mon amour."
"I love you." Y/n smiles before Charles moves around, tying her hair back as he used to always do when she'd cook. "But I think I might bake Seb a cake or something for his kids as a thank you for speaking when I wouldn't."
Charles sighs knowing he shouldn't have to be thanking someone but it does seem his former teammate is owed a massive thanks for this. For pointing out that Charles wasn't noticing his own girlfriend struggling because their relationship was taking a backseat to seemingly everything and everyone.
"I think I should stay away from anything that is being made for children." Charles hums then stealing another kiss from her. "Ok, you need to eat. So let's cook. You're the boss, yes?"
"As always." Y/n smiles gaining back some of the confidence that had deflated in the silent decaying of their relationship.
Obviously there's still work to do before they're back to feeling like they're how they should be. But neither of them are going to just give up on it so any progress is good progress until they get back to how they want to be in the relationship.
-
Y/n arrived with cupcakes and after some convincing, she got Charles to allow he to leave his side and hunt down Seb who had been unusually hard to spot.
But when she found him, she locked him in a hug.
"Thank you...I never would've had the courage to say anything until I was ready to just...leave." Y/n whispers as she hugs him, closing her eyes but still feeling the tears gathering behind her eyelids because this means so much to her.
"He needed to know and I care about you. I want to see you happy and glowing like you are now. You deserve only the best and Charles knows he can give you it, he was just being stupid." Seb smiles rubbing her back before she moves back. "Are the cupcakes for me?"
"You...and the girls if they're not stale by the time you get them home."
"I'm sure they'll be fine, and the kids will love them. Thank you." Seb smiles before he looks at her for a moment. "Are things better?"
"Yes. I know I should speak up when I feel like thinks are getting hard and Charles has decided that things will never get like that again so really I shouldn't have to speak up." Y/n sighs with a nod then smiling brightly at him. "We both owe you more than cupcakes...because honestly if I lost him then it'd have hurt a hell of a lot more than what was already going on with him being too busy to pay attention."
Y/n does talk to Seb for a bit longer before Charles appears giving a silent thanks with a nod and appreciative expression which Seb acknowledges with a smile.
"I should take the cupcakes and get first pick of my favourite before I have to hand them over to the kids. Thank you." Seb eventually states giving the two a final wave before he picks up the cupcakes and in a similar fashion, Charles scoops y/n up and carries her away.
"I have legs."
"You also have a boyfriend." Charles smirks earning an eye roll.
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balioc · 4 months
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Holiday Engineering: What Not to Do
We can learn a lot from Chanukah, because Chanukah is a garbage-tier holiday.
I mean this in a mostly-detached, mostly-analytic way. Like many people who were raised Jewish, I have some very fond and happy memories of Chanukah. Anything can accrue fond and happy memories, if you have a way of getting people to do it. But Chanukah is full of features that actively detract from its being resonant, impressive, memorable, or fun. It is an anti-advertisement for its community.
If you're a would-be designer-of-holidays, this is actually a really useful thing. Mimicking the good and successful holidays is quite hard; their quality tends to hinge on a lot of idiosyncratic hard-to-replicate factors, and "invent something as cool and punchy as the $WHATEVER" can be a tall order. But it's easy to look at a design failure and say, "I"m not going to do that."
With that, let's go into the details:
CHANUKAH: THE GOOD
Timing. It's a midwinter festival-of-lights. Solid start. Everyone loves those. Brightness and festival cheer, in the long cold winter nights, is practically a need for many. The holiday mostly skates by just on being the winter light festival for the Jews. A+. Or, really, we should knock that down to an A, because Chanukah usually comes too early to be ideal for this purpose, but -- still, quite good.
Traditional food (side dishes). Latkes are incredibly popular, and for excellent reason. If you're trying to settle on a food that everyone will love, "fried potatoes" is a damn good choice.
CHANUKAH: THE NEUTRAL
Symbols. There's really just one that matters: the chanukiyah (nine-branched menorah). Which is, on paper, a very cool and snappy symbol. Distinctive silhouette, ritual engagement, plus the allure of fire. But it loses a lot of points for the fact that you don't actually light the whole damn thing, and get the proper visual effect, until the very end of a long-ass holiday when everyone's enthusiasm and attention have ebbed. On the first night, in particular, you light just two candles in your chanukiyah, and it looks lopsided and sad.
Traditional food (sweets). Jelly donuts are fine, I guess, if uninspiring and uninspired. Chanukah gelt is pretty lame as candy goes...but from a holiday-design perspective, it's hard to go too far wrong with giving kids candy.
Music. "Maoz Tzur" is kinda pretty. "Oy Chanukah!" is kinda fun. That's pretty much it, barring some silly kids' music (and I guess that Adam Sandler thing). Nothing that will knock anyone's socks off. But, honestly, two decent songs is more than many good holidays have.
Gifts. Being the big annual gifting holiday is a double-edged sword. It's some super-powerful mojo, culturally speaking. People are obsessed with giving and receiving gifts, in a way that's very hard to excise or evade, no matter how often you trot out your utilitarian language about deadweight loss. Chanukah gets a lot of its traction out of the fact that it's the holiday where you get presents. But. (a) In the modern world, the gifting holiday is unavoidably a locus of stress and misery for many people, and Chanukah doesn't have nearly enough upside serving to support that burden. (b) Chanukah is bad at being a gifting holiday. The gifting is not well-integrated into the event, it's a tacked-on thing copied over from Christmas, and it shows. There's no real ritual surrounding it, no presents-under-the-Christmas-tree equivalent, certainly no Santa Claus. Worse yet, the eight-day-holiday thing means that either you need a set of gifts whose awesomeness is equally divisible by eight (mega-awkward), or else you have inconsistencies and disappointments.
CHANUKAH: THE BAD
Theme. What is the holiday about, when everything is said and done? What is our key takeaway message from all the shit we're doing. "God is great, God looks out for His people, God performs mighty miracles." Stop. Shut up. You fail. That's every holiday, if you're operating within a religious tradition. You need something more than that, something powerful and deep and important and special, to be even halfway-decent as a holiday. But for the vast majority of Jews (including Jews in the most orthodox and observant denominations), that's pretty much all you get. Because...
Mythology. The story of Chanukah, the holiday's narrative raison d'etre, is just unconscionably bad. In some extremely vague sense, it's a story about Jews overthrowing foreign oppressors and casting off foreign influences...which is already pretty bad from a modern liberal perspective, we don't like jingoistic ethnonationalism these days. But the actual events of the Chanukah story are less about Jews-against-foreigners than they are about Jews-against-other-Jews. It is a story about fanatics seizing power and murdering cosmopolitans. Virtually everyone hates that shit, up to and including the most tribal-minded Jews. The rabbis of the Talmud were pretty iffy about Chanukah for exactly this reason, and didn't talk about it much, with the result that the holiday doesn't have much in the way of supporting cultural infrastructure. And you really can't tell the Chanukah myth without that horrible stuff; it's so baked-in that it gets incorporated into even the most sanitized propagandistic Hebrew-school versions of the tale (with exactly the effects that you'd expect on Hebrew school students). The miracle of the oil feels like a tacked-on narrative coda, because it is, because without it the only possible moral of the story would be "kill your neighbor if he's not pious enough for you." But it's much too little, much too late. The miracle of the oil is super lame by miracle standards: no one is saved from danger, there are no memorable SFX, the whole thing is relevant only to the rituals of a long-vanished Temple.
[There are several lessons that can be learned from this particular problem, at multiple levels of abstraction.]
Structure. You can have a good eight-day holiday, but a festival of that length needs an arc. The days need to be distinct from each other. You need to be either building up to a climax, or -- more commonly, as with Passover and [the twelve days of] Christmas -- coming down from a main celebration at the beginning in a long pleasant haze of semi-special time. Chanukah is flat and internally undifferentiated, except for the addition of more candles to the chanukiyah. You can't sustain real holiday feeling that long, and there's no particular day on which you're supposed to do anything special, so it all just turns into a mush of "how much do we care right this moment?"
Activities. The traditional dreidel game is the worst, most boring, most unbalanced game in the history of games. Pushing it on children only makes those children hate Chanukah, and Judaism, and games, and you.
Traditional food (entrees). There's no classic Chanukah dish that can serve as a viable main course, unless you're one of those people who can happily eat fried potatoes as an entire meal. This is a glaring omission. It's particularly bad for Chanukah, because Chanukah has so little else going for it that it really needs to lean hard on the standard holiday "gather for a festive meal" thing.
Social role. As many people will eagerly tell you, Chanukah was a pretty minor holiday for most of Jewish history; it got big largely because of a marketing push in the 19th and 20th centuries, mostly because people got scared about the prospect of the younger generations assimilating, and wanted to give them a holiday to compete with Christmas. Which is maybe the worst idea that anyone has ever had. For more reasons that I can easily list here, modern Western Christmas is an absolute SSS-tier holiday, one of the very best of all time. Setting yourself up as a direct competitor to Christmas -- inviting your own people to make that comparison -- is tantamount to telling them that your traditions and your community are worthless and weak, and that they should join the ranks of the gentiles. And that would be true even if your own offering were something halfway decent. Trying to do it with Chanukah...it's like Estonia declaring war on the US. It's the ultimate "we have food at home." It is, if you'll pardon my saying so, Christian rock.
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turbulentscrawl · 4 months
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I love ur Frederick Headcanons!! Can we please get some sfw and nsfw hcs for him??
Happy holidays ;)
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SFW
-Frederick is one of those partners who isn’t around a lot. He’s often wholly consumed by music and spends long hours sat at the piano. He keeps a private music room and is strict about people coming in when he’s working. He needs focus. He struggles with prioritizing anything over his music, especially when he’s obsessed with perfecting a particular song. This will a life-long struggle for Frederick, but it is something he’s willing to make an effort towards correcting when he’s in love.
-Refer to his general headcanons post for specifics about his disorders; he requires a lot of grace and accommodation in a relationship. It’s almost certain that you’ll be putting more emotional labor into the relationship because Frederick has to put so much into just regulating himself. He’s easily overwhelmed, and has an avoidant attachment style due to his communication skills breaking down when he’s frantic enough. The best advice I can give is to establish a plan of action with Frederick that you can use on his worst days to help him.
-He’s not a “fun” or “spontaneous” socialite. He’s tired of changing who he is for social settings, of pushing his looks and playing sweet to gain favor. He still has to sometimes…which is why he doesn’t like when his partner suggests activities that would also require it. He doesn’t even want to have get-togethers with your friends, though he is willing to meet them after you’ve been together for a while. He’s not keen on spending a lot of time with them, mind you, mostly because it reminds him that he doesn’t have anyone in his side of things to introduce you to.
-In line with the above, with the exception of performances and networking, Frederick is a homebodied introvert. His date night ideas are often set on your property. A picnic in your garden, maybe? Stargazing? When he has the funds, he likes to hire a private chef to come prepare a nice dinner for you both. He’ll occasionally invite you into his music room to play for you, as well. Any song you’d like! Even if he doesn’t like it. You’re always the first to hear his new songs, and he often dedicates new ones to you.
-Frederick isn’t a bad housemate to have, which is fortunate since he’s there so much. Because he was disowned by his family, he’s had to develop some skills people of his birth typically don’t. He helps with the chores, cleans, and is a fair cook. He still occasionally needs help with little things, but those are few and far between. He yearns to go back to the days of not having to do these things himself.
-Frederick likes when you give him the option of being the dominant partner. That is, he likes when you look to him for decision-making. He does his best to be fair and consider both your opinions, if they differ, and he feels that you deferring to him like that means you have faith in his judgement. This goes for little things too, like just asking him to order for you when you’re out for dinner.
NSFW
-Some of you may hate me for this…but I look at this man and think “foot fetish.” He’s certainly not a pervert about it, but you’ll notice over time that he compliments your shoes a lot (especially heels) and admires any pedicures you show off just a little too intensely. You’re in luck if you like a good foot massage because that’s a go-to foreplay for him. He’s not going to complain about some shapely legs, either.
-Frederick has a very slight oral fixation, too. He’s down for a bit food play as long as it’s not something too difficult to clean up, and he enjoys giving oral. He has a habit of humming songs while going down on his partner; he says it helps him keep a steady rhythm, but honestly who cares because the vibrations from that feel amazing.
-Aside from those, Frederick is pretty vanilla. Due partially to the amount of stress his mental illness causes, he’s not in the mood for sex as often as others. When he is in the mood, he’s more of a “make love” kinda guy. He likes to have romance, to set the mood. Foreplay tends to be several hours long with plenty of sweet flirting, gentle touches, and any other means of building anticipation. He’s not rough in the bedroom at all, and prefers simple, face-to-face positions like missionary.
-He’s always going to have some underlying fears of being used for his looks, so he prefers to be in charge in the bedroom. If you want him to submit to you, he can be convinced, but he needs a lot of reassurance as aftercare or else he’ll silently grow paranoid. (This is also why he’s such a romantic in the bedroom. He needs obvious reminders that love is involved in this act and not just lust.)
-Frederick loses track of time a lot and is used to isolating, but spending a longer period away from him is a sure-fire way to make him desperate for you. You’re going to be gone for a month to visit family? Well, no worries, he’ll be fine…until the last three days. Then, like a switch is flipped, he’s a man starved to the brink of death for his love.
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silkval · 5 months
Note
trans aether... with questions I, IV, VIII, X, and XII. please be gentle, i adore soft sex
♠】 find out what goes on behind the scenes with the darling of your choice!
send an ask with the name of your darling and the question numbers you would like answered, and you will get your request!☆
》 content desc/warnings
aether is hinted to be smaller than reader, nipple play (aether receiving), very very fluffy sex and so so many kisses, reader can be interpreted with any genitalia, aether cries the first time, use of the nickname ‘sweetheart’, reader is an absolute gentleman, aether is a pretty boy canon
★fujoshis, wlm and minors please fuck off- you will be blocked★
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Ⅰ 》 what act of affection do they perform the most?
aether just loves it when he gets to cling to your side- whether it is simply just letting his fingers entwine with yours as you two rested in bed, or snuggling into your side on a cold winters day- which would always be made better when you looped an arm around his narrow shoulders with a content hum. your presence just made him feel safe- completely and utterly at peace with your warm frame to sidle up to.
Ⅳ 》 what is the one kink they have they will never admit they have?
…well, the poor thing didn't exactly do a good job of hiding it- but, nipple play. my god, it was so, so obvious that it was just adorable when your deft fingers grazed over aethers flushed chest whilst tangled in your sheets, drawing out the prettiest, high whine from the smaller male beneath you that you just could not ignore- eliciting a quiet chuckle in adoration at the sight of his flustered face, yet only pressing a reassuring kiss against the tip of his nose as your hand smoothed over the soft plains of his chest, the pads of your fingers rubbing and pinching gently at the pinked skin- which soon became a common occurrence each time you two made love.
Ⅷ 》 what is aftercare with them like?
honestly, aftercare with aether is just the best. even if it was a quick round before bed, or when hours had passed by from how much you just got lost in each other- aftercare with aether would last days. it would start with just holding each other- sweaty bodies collapsed and panting, still entwined and breathless yet unable to muffle the quiet, lovestruck laugh reverberating from both of you as you met eyes, still hazy as you met with soft kisses just to calm down and eventually falling asleep, his smaller body splayed atop yours or curled snug into your side as your arms encircled his bare figure still draped in the slightly damp, silken sheets. with the following morning, you would aid him in getting up- greeting him with a quick peck to the forehead, fetching him a glass of water and something small to eat before making sure he was alright and already going to run a bath for both of you to clean up in. and oh, aether just adored how you handled aftercare- ever the gentleman, as the days that followed consisted in touches even more gentle than usual and the occasional “you alright, love?” just to make sure he was all happy and healthy- which he always was, with you.
Ⅹ 》 were they a virgin before they met you
surprisingly, yes. with such a pretty face and the absolute joy of a soul that he is, he certainly got a lot of attention- that's for sure, but he never… clicked with anyone- until you, of course. he always had this subtle urge, this hidden desire for the act of lovemaking- even thinking about how intimate it would be, how wonderful it would be to come together with absolute trust and enjoyment of each others bodies just makes him all heart-eyed and blushy- oh, and he absolutely let a few tears slip when you first had sex; he had never felt anything like it before, just pure, pure absolution with you- and he couldn't want anything more.
Ⅻ 》 what pet names do they enjoy hearing?
loves loves loves being called sweetheart- absolutely drives the poor boy mad with how flustered and smiley he gets. even if it's just a mere “c’mere, sweetheart,” as you're guiding him through a busy street with a hand on the small of his back, or a breathy utterance of praise against the shell of his ear as your bodies combined in utter bliss- you damn bet you'll see his pretty, pinked lips curve upward into his signature smile.
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ahh thank you sm for this ask!!! this was an absolute pleasure to write as its my first writing of aether and my god. i get the hype💙
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sminiac · 3 months
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PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WHINY RIWOO WITH DRY HUMPING I BEG. IT CAN START WITH THEM LIKE PLAY FIGHTING BEING CUTE BUT THEN. YEAH. I read one with riize sohee and.. It was LIFE changing 👁
⋆ Lee Sanghyeok + Reader
Contains! — Smut focused, dry humping, MDNI.
Note — As soon as you mentioned Sohee w this I was like “Thea!!!😧☝️” bc IT REALLY WAS LIFE CHANGING, ugh I love my mutuals, I <3 @kissohee. But I gotchu! Although, I will switch it up so it doesn’t seem very copy paste, it wouldn’t feel right to me, here’s the fic w Sohee that was mentioned <3
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You knew they’d do good, they always did, and Riwoo was one out of the six who certainly knew that they had executed their performance quite perfectly.
The adrenaline rush still buzzes within him as he comes bursting back into the waiting room, walking like the sun had found its place of eternal peace under the thick of his skin. His confidence glowed from within, beaming in contentment as he falls into your chest with an eruption of happy giggles, basking you in his warmth, saying breathlessly against you that he had fun, so much fun, and that it didn’t even feel like he was running on merely a few hours of sleep as your fingers scratched against the nape of his neck, sweat dripping from his hair and down the surface of his skin, it reminded you of the way water shakes off of pine trees after a long shower from the clouds above.
You couldn’t deny how pretty he looks like this despite the cemented fact that the two of you were strictly platonic, only best friends, but something foreign stirred up inside of you seeing the way he still struggles to catch his breath, his heart beating so fast that you can feel it through the layers of clothing between the two of you.
“You looked really hot on stage.” you say simply, watching the way your fingers thread through the few inches of his blonde hair. “Yeah, it was really warm, I don’t think I’ve ever produced this much sweat from performing before.”
You struggle to bite back a laugh at his clueless response, a little warm in the face from his unknowingness to the existing layers of your words. “I bet, I can feel it soaking through your clothes, how’re you on top of me if you’re so warm?” Your finger pokes gently into his cheek.
“Shhh!” He musters as he lets his hands out from bearing his weight, his cheek smushed against your shoulder as he settles further into you. “I’d prefer for my pillows not to yap in my ear when I’m trying to sleep, thanks.”
Your palm gently pats against the back of his head, imitating a smack that makes him jump, you’re too busy whining about how he needs to get off of you that the fact his semi-hard cock just dug into your thigh goes unnoticed. “You’re lucky I’m so nice to you, y’know? Bratty boy.”
He makes a small ‘Mmmph’ sound in disagreement, his hips lifting and then falling back into you. Right now it seems that you’re the clueless one after dismissing the movement as a way to annoy you, and not that he’s secretly rolling his own high into play.
“I’m so nice to you, Riwoo. Sometimes I think I show you a little too much leniency, even when you do deserve it.” There’s an airy laugh to your tone, “No matter how rare that is.” and his ears know that you’re merely just joking around, you know- like you always do, it’s how you you are, but something about it is simultaneously making his hips shift against your leg, his breaths so heavy that they start exiting through his mouth in quiet pants.
“Please-” he squeaks, his hands fisting at your top desperately, he tries to keep himself from grinding into you fully with the heft and longevity that has his mouth watering, it’s not right, but fuck does it already feel so good.
“What? What’re you doing?”
“Hhngh- why d’you, fuck-! Have t’be so soft.” He’s taken under by the slightest lick of pleasure, so much so that his own embarrassment is far from the surface, and he’s not willing to pull himself out of it anytime soon. “Riwoo, can you…” the pre that sinks into his briefs coaxes him to keep going, rocking faster, harder against your leg, but the pleasure only comes to a certain point before fizzling out again, he doesn’t have enough firmness to make him breach the minor setback but he’s too stupid to come up with a solution for himself. “Honey please, I just need to you-”
He isn’t listening, his hips are frantic, eager, a little too much for your liking. “slow down.” You pull your leg away, out from under him.
He looks up at you with a quivering lip, such a sweet docile thing, his wide glossy eyes blinking up at you, the fear starting to sink in once he’s able to focus back on the actuality of the moment. He was just pathetically humping your leg. You, his bestfriend, his awfully pretty bestfriend who has a habit of calling him ‘honey’.
“Sorry, s-sorry. Fuck! Oh my god, Y/n I’m really sorry.” His head starts shaking side-to-side, a look of pure disbelief on his face as tears start swelling against the bottom lid of his eye, they fall heavy with every blink, the smoked out mix of warm browns around his aegyosal smearing down his face, leaving an existing trail that makes the entire act so much more lucid.
“You need to chill out,” you chuckle whilst leaning into him, he’s frighteningly still as you press a tender kiss against the mole under his eye. “I just wanted to move, make it feel better for you, you probably won’t be able to cum like this, hm?”
You look so beautiful, he swears you’re an angel, especially with that damn proclivity for being so concerned about others before yourself. He nods his head, agreeing, you’re right- how are you so right all of the time? The words, the way you use them, he’s never heard such explicit language come from your mouth before in any amount of sincerity that they’re soaked in now, but god does he want to kiss you because of it. “Tell me,” you beckon, your eyelashes are so pretty, has he told you that before? Especially the way your head tilts to the side, the angle makes them look more wispy as you blink around at his features, your fingers gently moving the ends of his hair out of the way.
You touch him like he’s always been yours to touch, and right now he’s never been more sure of wanting to always be just yours.
“Can’t- you’re right, you are. I-I bet I could, make do with what I have, don’t need anything else- whatever you give me, ‘s more than good enough.” His sniffles break through his words, the sound of his voice so quiet, shy, hiding in the back of his throat that it makes it crack.
“Trade spots with me, will you?”
He nods quickly, he will, of course he will, he’ll do anything you ask of him. He wastes no time pushing himself back onto his calves, watching as you stand up from the couch and instruct him to lay on his back, claiming your spot.
“Comfy?” You ask, leaning over him, pushing his hair back from his forehead, it pokes out between the crack of your fingers as he nods, eyes closing as you place a warm kiss against his forehead. “Good. Sweet boy, bein’ so good for me.”
Sweet boy, he’s never heard that one before, it has the exact same effect that your usual pet name has on him, he knows because it makes his shoulder ache. A whimper bubbles from his lips, you can feel the way he squirms under you, it has your hips moving to rest directly over his dick that’s straining heavy, wet in his pants. The sensation is warm, really warm, and… damp? Your hand drags down, thumb swiping over the area a few times as Riwoo’s fighting back a long pitchy moan from escaping so bad that it hurts, curiously you inch back, seeing a darker patch of black along the seam of his slacks, his pre had enough time to completely soak through, added the copious amount it was enough to breach through the thick of your pants.
The moisture makes the fabric feel almost thinner, or maybe it’s the way it’s conformed to the shape of his head that makes the drag of your pussy over it feel even more distinct as you move back, unwilling to waste time, to let even a second of seeing him like this slip from your grasp you resume grinding against him.
“Please- fuck! Y/n- pleasepleaseplease!” He whimpers quickly, unabashedly rocking his hips up in time with yours, his left hand has a firm grip on your thigh that keeps you close, his other rests against his cheek, index finger caught between his teeth as he rocks into you. “Wanna cum, jus’ wanna cum- make a mess f’you, only you- shit! Plea-”
His legs help him punch up into you, unexpectedly spilling in his pants, you watch whilst catching your breath at the way he shudders back down into the cushions under him, his mouth wide open, drool pooling behind his teeth and leaking out of the corners of his lips, a long drawn out whine pulling from his chest, a fuzzy dazed expression on his face, filling out his brain.
“You really do know how to make a mess.” You tease, hands running soothingly up and down his chest.
“I don’t think I’ve ever came like that before… are we- are we still only friends if you made me cum that hard that fast?”
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