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yourheart-inmyhands · 5 months

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Hii, just call me Skull anon. I've been very curious about how different yanderes would do so I'm asking for a request.

How would Xiao, Albedo, and Wriothesley deal with a Drug addict reader who was already in an unstable state, struggling to survive with rent and had bad trauma? The trauma could be anything you'd like.

Of course, you can deny this request if it makes you uncomfortable. No pressure or anything.

so i was a little hesitant to do this because I wasn't sure how well I could properly portray this, but going sort of off my own experience with certain things and trying to remain calm i wrote this. i can't really explain what compelled me to, but i do hope you enjoy this and please, read the warnings for this one :] <3

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, implied being held against will, manipulation tactics, mentions of substance abuse and recovery from it, obsessive behaviors, and other potential topics. Please Read At Your Own Risk!

Yandere!Xiao would be concerned internally but look indifferent externally. He’s conflicted, because he knows you’re struggling and that humans are a lot weaker, that you need help, but he doesn’t know how to help, he’s never had to be in this position before. He consults many people, fellow adepti, Zhongli, even the Traveler, none of whom he gives the full picture to but instead dances around the main ideas and works off vague descriptions.

Xiao’s first step in helping you was moving you in to the Wangshu Inn with him, where he could watch over you better. He has a reserved room there, though he never really uses it. Sleep is beyond his needs so he rarely rests, but you need rest so he allows you to have the room. This comes with him barging in on you whenever he sees fit though, day to night at any moment he could pop in without you even knowing. He had a strange way of doing that, a lot. He isn’t sure how to help with trauma or substance abuse, those aren’t the evils he usually fights, but he knows people he can ask about that. Xiao didn’t like admitting that he didn’t know what to do, but grumbling and giving Baizhu some vague descriptions of the situation helped him get a better idea of what to do. Xiao decides to take the soft approach of slowly weening you off the awful stuff, not wanting you to be left with more problems from quitting cold turkey. It’s a long road and Xiao was sorta kinda prepared to help you through it. He likes having you this close though, this dependent on him and his help.

Yandere!Albedo struggles with his feelings. His lack of humanity means he really only experiences feelings that are typically in abundance, meaning he doesn’t feel unless the feeling is so strong it cannot be ignored. His research is all he really knows so he takes the opportunity to offer ‘assistance.’ In exchange for staying with him and allowing him to study your responses and reactions, he would help you with your addiction.

It seemed like a good deal at first, Albedo would provide adequate housing, a quaint apartment in the heart of Mondstat, in exchange for being allowed to study you as he helped you over your drug problem. It would kill two birds with one stone no? What he didn’t tell you though was that he planned to have you quit cold turkey, wanting to watch how your body would respond to the sudden withdrawals. Of course, if anything started to border on the edge of life-threatening, he’d take preventative measures to ensure you lived, but otherwise, you were not permitted to leave or take any addictive substances. Albedo oversees all your care, meaning that for the entire recovery process, you are confined to a bedroom with him hovering over you, notepad and pencil in hand and large, unblinking eyes boring holes into you. It was unsettling, and even when you were on the upswing, finally getting to where the grass was greener, he still refused to allow you out or allow others in, saying that it could compromise the research. In reality, he just didn’t want anyone else near you, he had loved having you all to himself and didn’t want to share you ever again.

Yandere!Wriothesley is surprisingly educated on what to do. Not only had a few people in similar conditions come through the prison, but it was his job to make sure that he knew everything about everyone who passed into this place. With the help of some staff at the Fortress of Meropide, he moves you into a room in the staff wing, assigning you a set of personalized staff to help with your addictions. There were only two conditions, he would check in on you every day to ensure you were sticking to your recovery and that when you were finally okay, you would work as his assistant to pay off your debt.

Wriothesley wasn’t worried about the money that was put towards your recovery, it was nothing to someone with the title of Duke. He was more concerned with you being alive than momentary pleasures like wealth, but he used the excuse of you needing to pay him back to keep you around longer. He checks in with you every day, typically around dinner time, he’ll take a break to eat with you and talk about your day, building a relationship and establishing a connection, but sometimes he takes short breaks to check in on you. Wriothesley also speaks with the assigned group of nurses and staff that were there specifically for you every day, getting word from them on your progress and how things are looking. He enjoys seeing you slowly getting better day by day, his hope for the future strong as he dreams of the day you become officially his. He had no intention of ever letting you leave the Fortress of Meropide, at least not without him, arm wrapped protectively around you as he escorts you around, as a partner should.

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izelascendant · 3 months

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Helping Hand.

Din Djarin x f! Original character

words: 3,912

summary: Sharing a room comes with all sorts of problems. Problems that can be fixed by helping each other out. Lending a helping hand, if you will.

tags: Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Masturbation Interruptus, Helmetless Din Djarin, Lights Off, Squirting, Multiple Orgasms, Come eating, Wet & Messy, First Time, Sexual Inexperience, Handjob, Vaginal Fingering, Simultaneous Orgasm, Smut, Porn with Plot (?)

author’s note: If you couldn’t tell already, I have a thing for Din Djarin in the dark. Also I’ve just been booming with ideas.

Din exited the shower, pausing briefly before heading back into the dimly lit room. Despite the darkness, he could make out her silhouette on the top bunk. With her back turned, he presumed she was asleep.

She wasn’t.

She had been awake for some time, grappling with a sense of guilt over the tension that had hung between them since the events of the previous night. Determined to address it, she finally broke the silence by speaking up. "I kept you up last night, didn't I?"

Her words shattered the silence, catching Din off guard as he believed she had been asleep. Stunned, he stood frozen by her bunk in the darkness. Uncertain about the source of the tension, he was determined to diffuse it. "Don't apologize," he whispered, aiming to offer reassurance and put an end to the lingering unease.

A few more seconds of silence lingered before she finally sat up "You heard," she said, her words carrying a sense of uncertainty, as if unsure whether it was a question or an affirmation.

"I did," he confessed at last, his tone betraying a curiosity about the direction the conversation might take. A palpable silence settled between them, punctuated only by the sound of their breathing. He almost sensed that his own heartbeat might be audible in the quietude.

Eventually, she broke the quiet with a quiet admission, "It helps me sleep." Her tone held a tinge of embarrassment.

Her confession seemed to intensify the heat coursing through his body. "It helps you sleep?" Uncertain of what else to say, he let the question linger in the dimness of the room.

She swallowed, her voice still hushed. "I wasn't trying to wake you," she explained. "Like I said, it helps me sleep. And since we share a room, I can't—" She trailed off, still feeling a little hesitant about the subject.

"You can't what?" he persisted, sensing an inexplicable need to hear her articulate the words distinctly. The conversation stirred within him a range of emotions he couldn't quite identify.

Did she really need to spell it out for him? She let out a small huff "You know what," her voice was low and slightly raspy, "touch myself, make myself—" She halted once again, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

A surge of heat coursed through him, and arousal pulsed once again. His heart skipped a beat when she stopped short of the final word. "You can say the whole thing," he whispered, his tone encouraging. "You don't have to be shy about it." The intimacy of the moment hung in the air, the unspoken tension reaching a new height as he urged her to express herself fully.

Her cheeks burned, a vivid display of the lingering embarrassment mixed with adrenaline. “Making myself come. Having an orgasm helps me sleep.” She mumbled.

"Is that—is that what last night was?" he whispered.

A soft "yes" escaped her lips, the admission hanging in the air like a delicate thread. While she felt a desire to be mature about discussing the subject, the underlying tension stemmed from the fact that—she secretly thought of him while pleasuring herself.

The overwhelming situation left him speechless, his mind filled with questions and imagery. He pictured her pleasuring herself, feeling the overwhelming desire and arousal that filled him. The feeling was new and intense, like nothing he had felt before.

“Was it only once? Or did you—?” He could barely speak, the tension growing thicker.

Din's words made her face warm up again. “For Maker’s sake, Din,” She was a human, a flesh and blood person with desires that were natural. “I have needs just like you and everyone else. Yes, I–I masturbate. I enjoy pleasuring myself, is that so hard to believe?” She mumbled back, unsure of what his intentions were, or where the conversation was headed.

“It’s not hard to believe. I do too,” he finally managed to say as he continued to feel his heartbeat increase.

“So what’s the deal?” Her voice rasped a little. “I’ll be more quiet next time.” She sat back, her voice lowering even further. “Or if you want, I’ll do it outside of the ship.” There was a hint of humor in her statement, despite her sheepishness.

“No, no,” he was quick to respond. “You can—you can be as loud as you want.” She could say or do whatever she wanted. He was hoping that she knew why.

His words caught her off guard, confusing her once again. She mumbled a simple 'What?' to his statement, unable to process the interaction herself.

“It's okay.” he started off, but then his words failed him once again, as his tongue twisted and stumbled over them. “What I'm trying to say is that you can—you can do what you want," he said quietly.

Then he tried his best to finish the thought, “I don't want you to tone it down.”

“You like it?” She questioned in a whisper. She was being enveloped by the arousal she knew so well, almost as if it had been there the entire time, waiting for her to let it take her.

“Yes,” he whispered, not trying to hide his feelings one bit. He was not sure what to say or how to respond after that. He was still getting the same feeling from last night that she had left him with—an overwhelming sense of heat and a rush that he didn’t know how to deal with.

“Din?” Her voice, slightly raspy and hushed, pierced the air once more. The unspoken tension lingered, and it was evident that there was something on her mind, something she wanted to say or ask, but the words eluded her.

“Yes?” he whispered, still mesmerized by the sound of her voice after she had spoken.

“I want to hear you,” she paused, thinking about just how bold her request was, “just like in the shower.” The room held a suspended silence as she paused, contemplating the boldness of her thoughts and the request that hung on the tip of her tongue.

“And you listen to me too—both of us, touching ourselves.” She whispered.

Her admission hung in the air, and a heavy silence settled between them. “You mean, you want to hear me while—” he could not come up with the right words. The idea of him touching himself for her to hear was making her go crazy. He found it so arousing to think of.

“Please,” She whispered, the room held a heightened sense of awareness as she shuffled in her cot, the audible sound of her removing her shorts adding a layer of intimacy to the charged atmosphere.

“Get into your bunk.” She said softly.

Her words seemed to act as a signal, and he didn't ask any questions. Climbing onto his bunk, the darkness shrouded him, leaving him unable to see anything. Yet, he made his body as comfortable as possible, anticipation hanging in the air. The feeling of suspense was almost overwhelming, but there was a strange allure to it, a shared moment in the dimly lit room that held a promise of something unspoken and intimate.

“You can hear me, right?” she inquired from the top bunk, her breath slightly labored. She ensured that he could detect the sounds of her movements in her cot.

“Yeah—Yeah, I can hear you just fine,” he mumbled. The moment she started to move around in her bed, he was already starting to get excited.

She swallowed and shimmied out of her skivvies, allowing herself to lay completely bare in the darkness. Her breathing started off heavy as she slowly touched herself, the quiet atmosphere allowing every single lewd sound coming from her to be audible.

“Are you,” she swallowed, “doing it too?”

Her words, her gestures, and the sounds of her self-indulgence were driving him to the brink, leaving him utterly exposed in the darkness. His breaths grew heavier, and he felt a pulsating intensity building within him.

“Y-Yeah,” he replied after a few seconds of waiting.

Almost instantly, she emitted a contented hum upon hearing his words. Her labored breaths transformed into soft moans and whimpers. "Keep going, I want to hear," she murmured, giving in to the sensations without restraint. Her mind was hazy, and her entire body felt warm and moist.

Now unable to contain himself, he couldn't remain silent any longer. The symphony of her moans and whimpers created an illusion that she was right there in his bunk, beside him. His breathing escalated, becoming rapid and audible, spiraling out of his control. Small, desperate moans escaped him as the intense sensation surged within. The realization that she was engaging in this act solely for him sent waves of unbridled arousal through his body.

She had never encountered anything quite like this before. While she had engaged in self-pleasure, it paled in comparison to the current experience. It felt as though they were each treated to their own exclusive performance, as if the sounds they made were tailored solely for mutual pleasure.

“I’m close.” She cautioned, uncertain whether the words were spoken aloud or merely a product of her internal thoughts.

His sounds grew more aggressive, and his breaths became increasingly heavy and abbreviated. “So am I,” he breathed out.

His deep groans were akin to heavenly music for her. They were sufficient to induce her eyes rolling back and her back arching as she fervently manipulated her fingers. A choked moan escaped her, sensing her body growing hotter and weightier. "Din," she moaned, injecting a personal touch into the moment, even though they couldn't see or physically feel each other. It all revolved around the sensations and sounds they shared.

The realization that she was seeking him out, and not just anyone else, stirred emotions within him that he never thought possible. Her voice, above all, was the ultimate turn-on, resonating as absolutely perfect to him. The sounds emanating from the darkness carried an intimacy and heat that heightened the experience even further. “I’ the same,” he replied. “I’m just about—there.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, the hand not otherwise occupied tightly gripping the sheets. She didn't dare alter her pace; she was on the brink—just needing that extra push to propel her across the finish line. "Please," she panted, "say my name," she begged. The room resonated with the explicit sounds of both of them edging closer to their climax.

Her words unleashed a powerful sensation within him, surpassing anything he had ever felt before. Despite the desire to prolong the experience, he wasn't sure if he could hold out much longer. Her words were driving him to the brink of madness. Unable to resist any longer, he blurted out her name. The proximity to climax was so intense that he couldn't resist the overwhelming sensation. "Say my name."

She let out an almost squeal, her limbs squirming within the sheets. "Din—" she choked out, "I'm com—" Those were her final words before her breathing became even more erratic, and she felt as though she might have seen stars.

A wave of heat and pleasure engulfed him, and he released one final moan before finally finding his peace. His entire body twitched, and his breath grew heavier. He lay still in the darkness for a moment, absorbing the magnitude of what had just transpired. It was utterly mind-blowing.

Afterwards, the only sound that filled the room was their combined breathing, still heavy but gradually slowing down. Her mind remained foggy, her body warm and slightly sweaty. A moment of silence passed between them before she decided to break it. "I squirted," she remarked with a slight chuckle at the vulgarity of her own words.

Her words and her chuckle broke him from his state of thought and he felt a wave of heat wash over his body once more. “I came too,” he said back, breathing heavily.

She was still feeling bold. The thought of what they had just done dawned on her, and she started to realize what had just happened, but she didn’t want to lose the feeling of lust just yet. “In your hand?” She asked.

He let out a smirk and a short, quiet chuckle as she asked this question. “It had to go somewhere,” he said quietly.

She giggled faintly. Her breathing was still audible. After a pause she spoke again. “Show me.” She murmured. “Bring your hand here.” Her voice was full of excitement and boldness.

He emerged from the lower bunk, cautiously extending his hand, which bore the remnants of his release, towards the edge of the blanket to show her. His curiosity lingered, eager to receive her reaction.

She touched it, feeling the consistency. “It’s still warm.” She noted. Her voice was still dripping with lust.In the dimness, their vision obscured, she took hold of his hand and gently guided it closer to her mouth. Her heart pounded, and after a momentary hesitation, she acted impulsively—without thinking, she ran her tongue along his hand.

Her description of it being warm ignited a frenzy within him. The realization that she was right there, experiencing the same sensations, made it all the more intense. It became the most arousing sensation he had ever felt, prompting a quiet groan to escape from him.

"Salty," she added quietly, allowing his finger to gently graze her bottom lip. The entire experience was incredibly erotic, heightened by the pleasure of hearing his breathing. Sensing his enjoyment, she murmured, "I made a mess of myself."

His heartbeat pounded so intensely it felt like it might burst out of his chest, and the sensation of impending release gripped him once more. He shifted his hand to where she had touched herself, then slowly brought it to his mouth. It took a moment for him to summon the courage to follow through.

She released a long breath as his fingers met with her core, which remained warm and wet. His unexpected move caught her off guard, but she welcomed it without any complaints. Her cheeks burned with desire, and she let out a shaky breath, an intense yearning for him welling up within her.

"How do I taste?" she whispered raspingly, her words soft yet filled with desire.

He savored the taste and sensation, taking his time before slowly swallowing, he whispered, "Divine," in response.

His words had a profound effect on her, melting away any remaining barriers. "Din," she murmured yearningly, her mind still clouded with lust.

The thought that they were lying right next to each other, sharing the same sensations, sent waves of satisfaction through his body. "Just like you," he replied quietly, acknowledging the intimate connection they shared in that moment.

“Kriff,” She murmured slowly. She was surprised at just how much his words were able to fuel her own arousal—and she had a feeling he knew what his words did to her. She sat up, sensing his heavy breath close to her.

“My sheets are wet.” She stated, following up with a brief pause. “Can I come down to your bunk?”

Without a moment's hesitation, he was ready for her to join him. "Yeah," he whispered back, "come here."

He heard her descend from the top bunk, bringing her blanket with her. She placed it down in the space he had made for her in his bunk and lay down, positioning it just below her hips. The blanket, already damp with her previous release, served as a makeshift towel for the time being. As she breathed out, she felt the warmth emanating from his body, not too far from hers. There was an irresistible allure to it.

“I’ve never been so worked up.” She murmured, almost in admiration. She drifted her legs apart, her feet shuffling through his sheets. “I’m still soaking.” She said in a slow and tantalizing breath.

They were in such close proximity that the air between them felt suffocating. His hands slowly traveled up to her thighs, feeling the dampness on them. Uncertain about what would come next, he surrendered to the instinctual impulses of his body.

She emitted a faint whine, her breath shaking with anticipation as she felt his hand drawing near. Sensing her heightened pulse between her legs, she gently guided his hand, pressing it down a bit to let him truly feel her warmth and wetness. The palm of his hand rested on the patch of hair at her pelvic area, while his fingers explored between her folds. She swallowed, allowing her mouth to hang open in the midst of the intensifying sensations.

Her warmth enveloped his hand, and his mouth hung open as he absorbed the overwhelming sensations. "Gods," he breathed out slowly, continuing, "You're so warm."

Her whimpers and moans alone were enough to captivate him, and the sensation of her warmth was all he needed. Placing his hand on her hip, he moved his fingers delicately between her folds, feeling the warmth intensify. He let out small chuckles. "I almost feel like my hand is melting," he remarked between heavy breaths.

She emitted a gentle chuckle of her own. Then, she brought her hand closer to his hip, letting it graze along his warm skin. "Can I touch your hard-on?" she whispered, full of eagerness and curiosity. His hand was right where she needed it, and she desired to place her hand right where he needed hers.

“Yes, please,” he murmured back to her.

She went for it, slowly exploring him. Taken aback by the sheer length and thickness, it was an entirely foreign experience for her—foreign yet undeniably exciting. She swallowed, feeling around aimlessly.

"I've never," she began, uncertain of how to articulate what she wanted to say, "I don't know how to—"

Her sudden halt caught him off-guard for a moment but he quickly realized that she was in need of guidance. He took his hand and laid it on hers to guide her in the correct way.

She found it even more arousing when he placed his hand over hers to guide it. A soft moan escaped her, and her breathing became heavy and shaky once more. Deciding to reciprocate, she placed her hand onto his where his fingers were exploring. "Right there," she whispered, "that's where it feels the best," indicating as she guided his fingers to her most sensitive part.

"Ok," he whispered, allowing his fingers to follow her guidance. He kept his hand still on top of hers, refraining from moving his fingers for a moment, allowing her to take control. Eventually, he started moving his fingers in gentle circles, synchronizing with her needs.

A louder moan escaped her, a clear sign that he was hitting the right notes. Her breathing transitioned into whimpers, and her eyes fluttered for a moment. Despite her own pleasure, she remained focused, wanting to reciprocate and please him just as much. In response, she sped up the pace of her hand wrapped around his length.

“Does that feel good?” She breathed out.

He released a groan of his own in response to her touch, finding it absolutely amazing and feeling on the brink of breaking from the intensity of the sensations. Yet, the sounds of her whimpers and moans spurred him to continue. "It feels so good," he muttered, punctuating each word with small moans. "Keep going—"

She swallowed, panting hard, feeling a slight boost in confidence as she could tell she was pleasing him and heading in the right direction. "Your fingers," her words tumbled out amidst moans and heavy breathing, "inside me," she mumbled.

The thought of his fingers being inside her sent a wave of heat throughout his body. "Maker," he murmured softly, his breathing becoming heavier with each word.

She guided his fingers, breathing heavily. Once they were in just the right way, she felt her body sink into the mattress, the heat intensifying, and she couldn't help but moan. "Oh gods," she tried to control her breathing, "stars,”

"Curl your fingers," she gave one last indication.

"I've got you," he assured, letting his fingers curl up inside of her, following the direction she was leading. The more he made her feel good, the closer he felt himself getting to the edge.

His actions elicited a cry of pleasure from her, and her grip around him tightened as she stroked more vigorously. "I-I'm not gonna last," she struggled to speak, her head tossing and turning against the pillow behind her. The overwhelming stimulation brought her to the brink of ecstasy.

“Neither am I,” he responded hoarsely, his breath becoming even shorter and he began to feel his legs quiver slightly. “I—So good,” he groaned, his fingers still curled, as she had indicated. “I’m so close.”

She practically screamed, gripping the sheets as tightly as she could, her legs spasming and her back arching in the throes of ecstasy. Barely giving herself time to recover, she shifted her focus to him as he approached his own climax.

"Gods," he moaned, taking control of her hand, guiding her fingers further and further as he approached his climax.

"Yes," she panted, delighting in the sensation of his release. They both lay back, their breathing patterns erratic, bodies sweaty and overheated. As enjoyable as it was, it left them both utterly spent.

"Stars," she whispered. "I don't even know where to start." She lingered, her gaze lost in the dark. Her breathing started to calm down, and she felt her whole face was hot and flushed.

"Neither do I," he whispered back. A quiet stillness settled in the small space they shared. Although the air wasn't as hot as before, it still carried a warmth. He let his gaze linger on hers for a moment before allowing it to wander off to the ceiling, absorbing the sight of her next to him and the profound connection they had just experienced.

The air hung heavy with a certain scent—a mixture of pheromones and sweat, not unpleasant but a testament to the intensity of their exchange. She took a deep breath and sat up in his cot, her eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room, trying to discern his location.

"Wipe yourself off with my blanket. It's soaked anyway," she said with a hint of amusement. She stood up from the bunk. "I'm gonna pee. I'll be right back," she warned calmly before slipping into the fresher.

He remained where he was, taking a moment to adjust his clothes and clean up the aftermath between his legs. In a state of slight embarrassment but overwhelming satisfaction, he examined the soaked blanket—undeniable proof of the intensity of their encounter. The experience had brought him a level of satisfaction during orgasm that he had never felt before, leaving him in a state of self-reflection and contemplation.

She, too, found herself uncertain about the situation, aside from the fact that she had enjoyed it. Upon her return from the fresher, she climbed back into the top bunk. Her breathing still somewhat heavy, she felt a sense of peace mixed with exhaustion settling in.

She leaned her head down from the top bunk. "I enjoyed every moment," she said in a straightforward manner, as if feeling the need to set the record straight.

"I did too," he breathed back from below. It was a simpler response, yet an important one for him. Lying still in the bed, he felt more relaxed than ever.

Despite the night's craziness, it felt fulfilling.

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tbhimnoteasyonmyself · 2 months

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On Tee's Lonely Grief

I've seen people talk about New's and Phee's grief, Pimpa's grief but the gang has never been considered that much on account of their guilt. This episode, however, brings attention to that. Especially in Tee's case. Especially in the scene when he finds Non dead.

And I have to say, I fucking love this scene. So I'm here to tell you why.

PS: For the sake of this post, unlike what's normally my policy, the pictures used will not be edited in any way, shape or form unless stated otherwise. I think it would be taking creative liberties with the photography and it would diminish the validity of my analysis.

So:

Tee finds Non's body upstairs with his uncle's goons (dressed in entirely black outfits which obviously invoke death) very suspiciously looming over it.

So he does what capable and strong Tee, who has to support himself and his father and his uncle's business and now Non (as we saw very clearly this episode) would do: He lashes out. He demands answers. He threatens people. Because that's how he learned to solve his issues.

Yet he gets mostly silence. Arguably, the same exact silence he initially offers the 2 other people grieving Non this episode: New & Phee.

And so he argues with his uncle, makes accusations, mirrors New in the present moment so well it's uncanny.

And then he's alone. Everyone leaves, including Non's body. And now there's no one to perform that idea of a strong ruthless guy to. Now it's just Tee. And the contrast between the act of Tee and Tee is remarkable: one moment he's cold, and the other moment he's completely broken.

So he screams, at the top of his lungs, which is interesting. Because we do see Tee cry but not much. Tee's just not a person who cries. Which, besides being very relatable, is also terrible. Why? Because crying relieves you. It helps you cope, it releases the tension from you, at least a bit. Tee not crying here means this (Non dying), unlike the guilt of what happened before with him and the gang bullying Non

(something he is allowed to shed at least a single poetic tear about) Is a burden he can't be relieved of. At least, not at that moment.

So we watch as Tee screams helplessly. And the environment is so telling. GOD, I FUCKING LOVE THIS SHOW

There's an empty space. Virtually nothing is there with Tee. Because, of course, he's alone in the room, we know this, but he's also alone.

No one else knows this story like Tee does. No one else has been with Non when he was a creative student trying to make a film, when there was life to him in all senses of the word and also saw his dead, lifeless body. No one else has been the cause for both Non's problems and Non's death. No one has liked Non as a friend and cared for him and watched him die without being able to do anything about it. No one in Tee's life knows what he's going through, what it feels like. No one in Tee's life is able to share his grief. And he can't escape it either.

You see that weird ass mirror there? Why is it there? There are curtains around it. But it's not a window. That's odd. But while it makes no sense decoration/architectural-wise, it makes so much sense from the point of view of symbolism.

There's no escape. Even when it really feels like there should be. Because Tee, the guy with all the solutions, should be able to find a solution, shouldn't he? Besides... We come to care so much for him and for Non... So how come there's no solution? Because, we, like these teens do to adults, naively trust the narrative. Of course, there's no solution. We all knew this from the start. We're only here because of this: Non is dead.

So, instead of a way out, a hope for something better than what's going on in that room, we get just more of it. Tee and we alike, have no escape. We're both forced to face that scene, forced to accept it. And Tee, if he dares look for that way out, will only have to face himself.

But interestingly, he never does. Tee never looks at the mirror on the wall. He doesn't even acknowledge it. Which, of course, might be a reflection (pun intended) of how he tries to pass the blame of Non's death to his uncle.

He repeatedly claims he didn't know what would happen, that he wouldn't have brought Non back if he did but... Is that true? As Perth's character (BOMBASTIC SIDE EYE, btw) says:

"You already knew, right?" Because, let's face it, it was obvious. Things could only go poorly for Non if Uncle Joe got his claws on him. Tee had to know that wouldn't end well.

So this scene also tells us that, despite deep down his immense amount of guilt telling him he is guilty of Non's death, Tee doesn't want to acknowledge it. He maintains that position, in fact, nearly all the way until the end of episode Ep.11. where he slightly changes his narrative.

He never planned to.

Right now, he's a new person. One that would not make the same mistakes as in the past but that, despite the changes, is inevitably the one who somewhere in the past did make them.

But back to the scene.

Tee is framed right in front of the blueish-grey curtains and we all know what that means, I do not need to cite the ancient scrolls. But I wanna add that grey is also:

a colour associated with sadness;

seen as a colour of death, as it is literally in greyscale, hence colourless, lifeless AND because it can also be interpreted as a mix of white and black, both of which are mourning clothes colours, depending on the culture;

a reflection of Tee's grey morality because, naturally, while we understand Tee's motivations and background, he did some pretty fucked up things that his good intentions and unhelpful help attempts cannot erase.

And then Tee finds a small paper, written by Non (in vivid blue, properly highlighting not only Non's depression but also Tee's).

And the paper reads: "I'm gonna get out of this place. I'm not a loser." And it hits him even further because Non (at least in Tee's vision, I'll leave Non's death up for debate, I'm sure people will have theories) wanted so bad to be victorious once, to succeed just once. He wanted to get a chance to live normally and it didn't happen.

This, of course, ends up shaping Tee's own path, as he meets White and gets a chance to do things "right" and as he becomes this "new person" and gets away from his uncle. But, in that moment, none of that is relevant because it hasn't happened and Tee cannot know it will, he can only know, with written proof, that he failed. And now Non's dead.

And so, in the last part of this scene, we see a more zoomed-out shot. And Tee's still alone but now we have a more clear vision of just how tiny that space is. And how he's nearly taller than the frame. How his grief is bigger than the space in which it was brought to him. But also how the weight of it, represented by the walls, is nearly crushing him. Another gigantic, and perhaps the biggest of all, responsibility on Tee's shoulders.

Furthermore, as @shannankle has marvellously described and explained in this post about sex scene framing, the framing gives us a level 3 visual gaze which is used to remind us as the audience of just how intimate and profoundly shaping of Tee this moment is: we are not supposed to be here, this moment is Tee's and Tee's alone. Because, of course, he is alone. In all senses. The access we're getting is nearly forbidden. Even to the other characters. Because they don't get to see it, they only hear about it (or we assume they do).

And, to top it all off, the cherry on top of this great scene: all of this happens while Tee is wearing his school uniform. Because, of course, it had to. Because we need to be reminded: this is a teenager. Tee, who's mourning his dead friend whose corpse he just saw and whose death is largely his fault is just a teenager.

#So yes #I might hate that Phee is apparently omniscient #but BY THE UNIVERSE AND ALL OF US IN IT #do I LOVE the care and thought put into the details of this story!!!#it's so good!!#dff #dff the series #dead friend forever the series #dead friend forever #dff meta #dead friend forever meta #dead friend forever ther series meta #dff the series meta #dff tee #tee dff #dead friend forever tee #tee dead friend forever #dff the series tee #tee dff the series

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 16 days

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hear me out, i got an idea. hcs for frank and reader!best friend (doesn’t matter which godly parent) BUT they have to share a bed, and frank’s super nervous and she’s like “yeah whatever, it is what it is” but internally freaking out cause she likes him blah blah. BUT THEN, for the both of them be more comfortable, he turns into a GOLDEN RETRIEVER and they sleep cuddled up (unconsciously duh) and i just thought it would be cute

sorry if it’s too long, luv u 💗

⋆⭒˚.⋆ frank zhang 'one bed' trope hcs

content: frank zhang x reader hcs warning: none! author's note: so cutesy!! i tried to not make this too similar to the last little blurb that i did where he turned into a dog but idk. i was tempted to turn him into a cat but i had already found that cute picture of the girl with the dog and couldn't go back lmao.

when the inn clerk handed over only one key, frank had already begun to sweat

you were no better, frantically asking the woman where the second key was

she gave you a pointed look that told you that no second key would be coming

you and frank both deflated and refused to look at the other, instead taking the stupid singular key and marching off to your room

naturally, it was the smallest bed on the face of the planet

you and frank just stared at it, completely in blushing shock

"how much did we pay for this room?"

"too much for the bed to be the size of a toothpick."

well, technically, it was covered by camp jupiter, but whatevas

frank, ever the nervous gentleman, began grabbing a pillow and taking the blanket that was draped at the end of the bed

"what are you doing?" you asked, despite yourself and frank froze like a deer in headlights, turning to you with a tilt of his head

"making- making my bed?" he offered, a frown twitching at his lips, "i wasn't gonna make you sleep on the ground-"

"and im not gonna let you sleep on the ground. get up, zhang, we can share, can't we?"

the offer was leaving your lips before you could think about and you flared red once more

frank pretended not to notice, returning the pillow and blanket

you guys took turns in the bathroom, both of you giving passionate pep talks in the mirror to yourselves

then you guys tried to squeeze into that bed but it was simply not working

at some point, you nearly fell off and surely would have had frank not caught you just in time

cue more blushing lmao

"i could- i could turn into something smaller," frank offered, his arms still wrapped around you under the guise of keeping you from falling when really he just liked having you in his arms

"oh, frank, i don't want ya to have to," you spoke softly to the boy, his arms wrapped around you feeling normal - something that should happen on the daily

"it's alright. promise," frank reassured, smiling softly as your face unscrunched at his reassurance.

moment's later the zhang boy was replaced buy a golden little puppy

you giggled, rubbing the dog's head as it curled up into your side

admittedly, there was significantly more space on the bed now

you fell asleep sometime during your fifth pass through frank's fur

and frank was lost to somnus by the third pass

and in the middle of the night, frank was once more a boy, but the space problem continued to not exist

simply because the two of you were cuddled up, your back pressed to frank's chest and frank's body basically curled around you own, his breathing pushing against your hair and his arm draped gently over your waist

maybe sharing one bed wasn't so bad, huh?

#all my love ౨ৎ #postcards from covey ౨ৎ #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo fandom #frank zhang x reader #frank zhang #frank zhang x you #frank zhang x yn #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #percy pjo #percy jackson fandom

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little-cereal-draws · 8 months

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ok i see everyone's "ballister and ambrosius as nimona's parents" stuff but i'm going to raise you this

Ballister and Dr. Blitzmeyer as nimona's parents

I know there's the Gay Dad au sanctifying ambrosis as nimona's dad but he seems to get frustrated with Nimona more frequently than Ballister and I kinda got the sense that adopting her was mostly Bal's choice. Don't get me wrong, ambrosius has moments where he enjoys himself and he loves her, but I don't think he's thrilled abt the idea of her being here forever. He gives "good at babysitting but needs to give the child back at a certain point" vibes and obviously he can't do that when it's his kid

However in the Everything Is Fine au (the one where they all live in the cabin in the woods) Blitzmeyer is Nimona's guardian and they move from the city to the woods together, eventually moving in w Bal and Ambrosius.

Besides this au I don't think Blitzmeyer and Nimona ever interact, but I thought it was very interesting how the one time they do, she's also Nimona's guardian (I believe that's the word ND Stevenson uses, not "parent.") Already in this one picture, they look happier than Ambrosius did lol

I'm sure movie ambrosius would be much more willing to try and get to know nimona but what if the sticking point is with her this time? She can't get over what he did to both her and Bal, he reminds her too much of Gloreth, she's still wary of anyone that was that ingrained in the institute, and a million other things. She knows he's really trying and feels bad about everything but bc of all she's been through, she's not quick to trust people who betrayed her. Especially if she's only had bad interactions with them until this point. She avoids/shuts down his attempts to connect with her and is generally closed off and angry when he's there. It's like a kid hating their new stepparent lol Both Bal and Ambrosius know it's nothing personal, just the defense mechanism that's kept her safe from people like ambrosius for so long, but it still hurts. Eventually, he gives up trying to reach out to her and figures maybe she'll come to him or maybe they just won't be as close as he hoped.

Now, Bal's weird science friend is someone more Nimona's speed lol Blitzmeyer has somehow remained almost completely immune to institute propaganda, doesn't really care abt breaking things (the law included) if it can further her work in some way, and is just kooky enough to appeal to Nimona. She lets nimona help in the lab and doesn't mind the million questions she asks because that's just another opportunity to talk abt her work. They go on some adventures getting stuff for Blitzmeyer's experiments and really bond. Eventually they become pretty close and Nimona frequently goes out of her way to see Blitzmeyer.

One night late in the lab, Bal mentions that Nimona really likes her and Dr Blitzmeyer is like "really? no, not that much." And Bal's like "no, really that much. About as much as she likes me actually." And then with creeping awareness they both slowly look at each other with the realization that they're co-parenting now and actually have been for a while. After the initial freak out, they keep going almost like normal but throw in an outing every other month or so. They'll take Nimona for ice cream or some other casual thing and she's none the wiser that they've figured her out. One night as they were coming home from a movie or smth Nimona says, "I'm so glad we did this, I love spending time with my two favorite people." Nimona keeps walking but they have to stop to silently freak out to each other a bit lol

The only problem is that they frequently get mistaken for a nuclear family on these outings. And it doesn't help that Bal and Blitzmeyer often refer to each other as "my partner." (They open a lab together at the end of the comic and I think they would as well after the movie, so they are literally business partners and lab partners. But I like to hc them in a queer platonic relationship as well, so the word "partner" has a double meaning here. Ambrosius is Bal's romantic partner and Blitzmeyer is his platonic partner. They all talked abt it, it's all good.) Every time this happens though, Bal has to explain that they're just friends and he actually has a husband back at home. Some people go "ok, 'just friends,' sure. wink wink nudge nudge ;)" or "ok... does your husband know...? That you... and her...? ok, ok." It makes Bal angry when this happens but neither him or Blitzmeyer cares enough to actually do anything about it. Nimona just laughs at the stranger's confusion at their unconventional family.

Anyway, they're just two friends who somehow found themselves raising a 1000 year old shapeshifter together lol Ambrosius is disappointed Nimona didn't like him as much as he hoped but now he can just stay home and vibe lol

#it's like a Laszlo Guillermo and Nadja situation when it came to raising baby colin. nadja wasn't involved at all and colin was their kid #nimona #nimona headcanon #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #meredith blitzmeyer #dr blitzmeyer #nimona comic

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

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mooooom! i got a request for youuu~ 💌

-young reader learned taekwondo from hansu, but never got to meet his son. so, she only knew taehoon from hansu's stories and cute photos of him aaand that's how she developed a crush on taehoon. years later, she finally meets him... but her "cute" image of him immediately shattered the moment he opened his mouth; chaos ensues 💀

this scenario has been on my mind for a while now and it makes me giggle to an unhealthy degree that i want an entire fic of it 😭 also if it wasn't obvious, i thirst for hansu content 🥺🫶 tysm in advance 🤧

p.s. i really REALLY love your fics and your writing aaaaaa 🫠 ik i already told you before and but im saying it again hehe hope you have a great day! ilyy~~ 💖💖

My dear lovely baby Rie! I saw this and thought yes, let's drop everything INCLUDING Tears of The Kingdom and write this.

But... I'm sorry, there really isn't much Hansu in this, it's very very Taehoon centric.

One of the best things about fandom is bringing people together and I'm so happy to have met you!

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Strangers to... a Not-Crush

Follow up with Hansu and Taehoon here

You're pretty sure you're in love with this Taehoon.

The first time you heard his name was during your very first Taekwondo lessons, many many years ago

Schedules, circumstances, situtations; all the usual life happenings has stopped you both from actually meeting.

But Hansu waxes lyrical about his son. You must have heard for the hundredth time how he is a spinning prodigy, how he has surpassed Hansu at a similar age, how he will be one of the best. His name destined to be written in the history books.

As Hansu talks about his son with stars in his eyes, you can't help the shine rubbing off on you too.

"Y/N, this is Taehoon."

Your jaw drops. Sure, Hansu has shown you countless pictures. Compared to the real living thing though, the gap is so vast you might as well say he's the least photogenic person alive. That's really saying something, because Taehoon photographs well.

He's one of the prettiest boys you've ever seen.

With his lips and eyes and even his goddamn hair. Are those lashes even for real? And then you notice his stature and his muscles, his rock-solid chest and abs peeking through.

Maybe he's not pretty at all. He's fucking hot.

You jaw drops even further.

Why on earth hasn't Hansu ever shown you a full body picture, he could have at least prepared you. Like a cliche, you feel weak at the knees. You feel light-headed-

Then Taehoon opens his mouth and the illusion shatters. Splinters into a hundred million little pieces. With his next words, you've never felt more pissed off in your life.

"Keep looking pervert, and I'll pluck your eyes out,"

What the fuck is this guy's problem.

For once, the stars align, and you see each other constantly.

You curse the damn stars. You curse Hansu for passing your tutelage to Taehoon. Most of all, you curse Hansu for creating this.

The idea of Taehoon is much better than this... this fucking menace you have to see day in day out.

Taehoon makes you address him as Master. He hits you on the head for stepping out of line (you bite your tongue every goddamn time), he takes no prisoners during your spars together, makes you repeat exercises over and over until you're on all fours and trying not to throw up.

And infuriatingly, he touches you.

Little corrections with his hands, his elbows, his knees, his legs, his foot. "Your stance is shit," he tells you, "your technique is still off," as he taps the offending body parts, mere millimetres out of place. Your cheeks burn every time and your skin is on fire even hours later.

What's worse is your head swims every night with Taekwondo and Taehoon.

Lying in bed, all you can see is him. That antagonising smug smile on his lips. You want to wipe it off his stupidly handsome face.

See if he has any cutting words left when, not if, you beat him in a spar, and you gloat over him, straddling his hips, trapping him between your thighs and you can feel how aroused he is-

Oh.

Shit.

You hug your pillow tighter to your body.

This relevation is a fucking nightmare.

Taehoon reckons your skills are average at best. What he's most impressed with is your dedication and tenacity.

No matter how many times he kicks your ass, you still get back up for more. Regardless of all his nitpicking and corrections with your form, you take onboard his words and listen.

He hasn't missed that it's all through gritted teeth. Still.

He also hasn't missed you blushing and your breath catching in your throat when he touches you.

Nothing not out of necessity, all completely above board. But it's still funny. Messing with you.

Taehoon tells himself he is completely unaffected. People fawn over him all the time, you looking at him with hearts in your eyes is nothing new.

It's just amusing, that's all.

You don't know whether this is heaven or hell.

Taehoon piggybacks you all the way from the studio to the emergency room. You're so close you can almost taste him, see all his faint freckles, the vein in his temple from the exertion and concern.

All this proximity is doing nothing for your crush. Which you are determined to get over, by the way. Because this guy is a goddamn asshole and nothing else.

It was a silly accident, really. You went for an opening when there was none, causing Taehoon to mistime his kick. You collapsed like a sack of shit.

Worried hands check up on you even as his mouth runs.

"It's fine," you say, waving off his concern. When you tried to stand up, your ankle is in no mood to bear any weight.

You go down for a second time.

Taehoon's patience is unexpected. He waits with you until you are seen to.

Conversation is strained, and he doesn't talk much, just giving you wary glances every now and then.

But you fill the silence, telling him little anecdotes from your life and your day. Bridging the gap between Taekwondo and the little pieces that make up the rest of your life.

His lips quirk as you speak. The smiles aren't condescending.

Eventually, when the nurse tells you it's just a simple strain and will heal if you keep off it, Taehoon is the one that nods and asks follow up questions.

At the end of the day, after another piggyback this time to your home, you thank him for his time and he is surprised at your sincerity.

Taehoon doesn't miss you. Definitely not.

The only reason he is at your door with stew and kimchi is because his old man told him to check up on you.

You're not able to attend any lessons while you recover, and Hansu wanted to make sure you're ok. Not Taehoon. Taehoon could not care less. He also did not jump at the chance of seeing you again, so much so that even Hansu gives him a questioning look. Ridiculous.

Why is his palm sweaty? Must just be the heat. Taehoon wipes it on his jeans before knocking twice on your door.

"Come in," you call out, and Taehoon hasn't missed your voice. And he hasn't missed the sight of your face neither.

He doesn't greedily take in the colours of your bedroom, the pictures on your wall, the books on your shelf.

He doesn't memorise your handwriting when he walks past your desk, something that is so uniquely you, like a fingerprint.

And when you give him a shy smile and apologise for the mess, it doesn't affect him.

Nor when you take the proffered food and have a mouthful, Taehoon doesn't soften at this.

The ensuing silence is not comfortable. He doesn't want to stay longer. His fingers don't twitch in your presence, having grown used to casual touches with you.

This song and dance is continued for the next few weeks only because Taehoon is a good son, and an even better teacher.

He needs to check up on the welfare of his student.

And then finally, after too long, when you show up at the studio again, Taehoon's heart absolutely does not soar.

#taehoon seong #taehoon x reader #viral hit #viral hit manhwa #viral hit x reader #viral hit webtoon #viral hit headcanons #how to fight #how to fight manhwa #how to fight webtoon #how to fight headcanons #seong taehoon x reader #seong taehoon #seong taehun #seong taehun x reader #taehun seong #taehun seong x reader #wannaeatramyeon

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midchelle · 6 months

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how would you rank the different beatles couples wedding looks?

Now this looks like a job for me

9. John and Cyn (1962)

I feel a little bad ranking them this low because the four of them had about two shillings to rub together between themselves, but this was just not a great effort. John appears to be wearing A Suit. Perhaps with a tie of some sort. Paul and George's fits look kind of similar, which makes me think he got married in his Beatles suit. I guess that was an appropriate start to their marriage.

Cynthia's having a classic Cher Horowitz faux Chanel suit moment. It's not a bad look, but it's literally something you would see in Zara. There's a pneumatic drill in the background. Cyn nearly got married to George instead. What a world that would be.

8. Paul and Heather (2002)

Did you know this was one of the most expensive weddings in history? It cost 3.6 million. They rented a castle in Co. Monaghan. There were fireworks. Did you know that Heather Mills wore the most 1980s wedding dress known to man in 1989? These are the things I was forced to find out while researching this look.

I originally had this a bit higher. I didn't want to rank it low just Because Heather. But the more I look at this dress, the more I hate it. She's doing the Kate Midleton lace sleeves -- which, in fairness, was pretty forward-thinking in 2002 -- but then the lace just goes over the whole outfit, which has the effect of making everything look very same-y. Barbie in A Christmas Carol executed this idea way better.

I don't have many objections to Paul's outfit. He wore a vest. That's effort. And he matched his tie to the flowers. Like job done, basically. My only real issue here is the lack of vision. If I was Paul McCartney in 2002 and a knight of the British Empire or whatever, and I'm getting married in a castle -- I'd have a sassy little sword with me. Perhaps even just to cut the cake. Come on.

7. Paul and Linda (1969)

Don't let the cuteness of the pictures distract you from the fact that they're both dressed like they have a meeting with Harry from accounting in an hour. Paul appears to have shown the barber a picture of the guy from The Peep Show. She married him when his hair looked like that. That's love.

It's possible that Linda is wearing a non-business casual outfit under the trench. We'll never know. The problem is that these people refused to get married any time outside of the cold months. It's weird how this is the one Indian thing they all adopted.

The kid is a fun accessory. I enjoy how she and Linda appear to be matching trenches.

6. Maureen and Ringo (1965)

I enjoy how Cyn, John, and George seem to be haunting the proceedings in the second picture.

Originally, I had this lower, but you know what? I like Maureen's little Jackie O suit with the Peter Pan collar, and I love that hair accessory she has over her bun with the bow. Ringo is fine, even if he does look like he's wearing his Dad's jacket. I really don't think it's supposed to fit like that. You're Ringo Starr and this is your wedding, you couldn't get it tailored? Or just buy one that fits better?

And once again: she married him when his hair looked like that.

5. [ERROR] (1978)

I saw a lot of sources saying the first pic is George and Olivia. It is not. The man looks a bit like George, but the woman looks nothing like Olivia. The second picture, I think, is from George and Olivia's wedding, and yes, that is the best quality I could find. I think George has the same '70s open-collar suit thing as the man in the fake picture, but that's about all I can tell. Olivia could literally be wearing a rug for all I can see about her outfit. Since this is Schroedinger's Beatle wedding look -- neither good nor bad since I Literally Can't See It -- it goes right in the middle.

I can't believe they wanted to have a small personal wedding. It's like they weren't even thinking about all the Tumblrinas.

4. Paul and Nancy (2011)

Nancy Shevall's royal wedding dress ft. Paul doing a classic Paul pose.

Nancy's wearing a Stella McCartney dress -- cute -- inspired by Wallis Simpson of all people, which is kind of wild as royal wedding inspiration goes, but I like it. It's tasteful while still being unconventional.

Paul also looks great. The longer hair suits him much better. Nancy Shevall is a businesswoman, and it shows. She did not marry a man with bad hair.

3. George and Pattie (1966)

Mary Quant herself personally designed George's coat. That's how serious this is.

It's a strange occurrence because this is one of the few times that `I feel more let down by the woman than the man. Don't get me wrong, Pattie looks great. Her hair's great. Makeup: great. The tights? The coat? Fantastic. But the dress itself does look like something I wore to my friend's birthday party when I was eight. Do better.

Not featured: Paul McCartney being out of his gourd during the proceedings. Sorry, Paul. This ain't about him.

2. Ringo and Barbara (1981)

Unghhh they look so good. Sorry there's no joke.

Barbara's dress is so lovely and romantic -- I think it might be a top and a skirt, actually? Anyway, love the neckline, love the sleeves, love the bell skirt. The flowers tucked in at the waist? The lace? That's how you do lace, Heather! And Ringo. He got his hair cut by someone who actually likes him this time, and he's wearing a jacket that fits! That's how you know he was serious about it, and it shows -- forty-two years later. Very fond of the star pin on his lapel.

What really puts this look over a lot of the others is I do feel like they coordinated, her in all white and him in all black. And they one-upped both John and Paul by having not just one, but two kids. Beat that, McLennon.

John and Yoko (1969)

You might've had a cute wedding look, a great wedding look, even, but did your wedding create enduring pop-cultural tropes? Don't think so.

#mid.txt

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korkorali · 7 months

Text

Oooooohhhh are we talking about Bradford telling Della about the Spear of Selene? I think we're talking about Bradford telling Della about the Spear of Selene!

Okay okay this is something I have Ideas™️about- specifically why he told her, and why she believed him.

The answer (as I have so humbly decided is obviously the abject truth) is the same for both: Because he'd been manipulating her for years.

He was trying to be the Emperor Palpatine to her Anakin Skywalker.

Why? Simple: The Papyrus of Truth.

Think about it- it doesn't make sense to immediately go 'oh, only Scrooge McDuck's heir can find the Papyrus? Welp, time to steal some of his DNA and make a kid!' That's supervillain territory, and Bradford isn't a supervillain! (He's just a bit of a scumbag, but that's not a supervillain so it's obviously fine.)

So picture this: he finds out about the wish Scrooge made on the Papyrus, that only his heir could find it, and his thought patterns line up with Scrooge's:

He thinks "Alright, then it has to be one of those rugrats."

The question is, which one? Della, or Donald?

And honestly, when they're both kids- it's not really that much of a question, is it?

Is it Donald, the angry coward who loves to hole up in his room and write songs about eating the rich and basically doing everything that Scrooge hates?

Or is it Della, the adventurous and energetic ball of high-octane excitement and adrenaline, unable to sit still for a single moment, who acts like Scrooge McDuck, who likes all the same things as Scrooge McDuck, who is pretty much every single thing that Bradford Buzzard hates about Scrooge McDuck, all rolled up into a bratty child?

(Nevermind the fact that she isn't actually like that, not entirely. Nevermind the fact that she's doing all that because she feels she has to be useful, to be likeable, and that means mirroring Scrooge McDuck because if he likes himself so much then he must like seeing himself in her.)

Obviously it's Della. It has to be.

Which means, in order for him to get the Papyrus, he needed to get his claws into Della.

Which shouldn't have been hard- you can't tell me that Scrooge wouldn't do the same thing with Donald and Della that he did with Louie. He'd take them to the Money Bin (after all, it's like a second home for him), then head into his office and tell them not to disturb him.

And that'd leave Della in the perfect position for Bradford to begin to wheedle his ways past her defenses.

(Of course, multiple problems arise, not the least of which is she's a child and Bradford undoubtedly hates children. But moreso it's that she's genre-savvy, and also (and we love her for it, but) kind of dumb. It's a very frustrating mix that leads to her very nearly calling him out on what he's doing a lot.

But also, despite all that- she's still a kid.

And despite how much she thinks she knows, he's still better.)

It'd take a while, and I don't think he ever really manages it, but he still gets her to trust him.

Eventually, of course, he learns that Della isn't the 'heir of Scrooge McDuck.'

(Not sure how this happens, but it obviously does- I'm sure that lots of the Adventure Trio's adventures in the earlier days were spent searching for that missing Papyrus, but for some reason they stopped. The whole thing threatened to tear Donald and Della apart, or something.)

And that makes all the work he spent on her useless. All the time spent manipulating her, and trying (and -mostly- failing) to get her to be something he wanted, to push her to break up her family, all for naught.

Or- maybe not.

Because Scrooge keeps a secret. He makes her a spaceship. An untested, unreliable, terrible spaceship that literally runs on money.

It's horrible.

It's a waste.

It's perfect.

All the work doesn't have to be for naught. All Bradford has to do is let Della come to him one day, when she's at the Money Bin (probably because she and Donald and Scrooge were going shopping for baby toys, and she kept trying to get these really dangerous and deadly-looking ones, and ultimately got sent to the Money Bin as a bit of a 'time out'), let her rant and burn herself out to him about how frustrating Donald and Scrooge are being, how unfair they are (how scared she is, how much she just wishes they'd let her actually handle some stuff, how bad they make her feel for still wanting to adventure at a time like this, how much it feels like all either of them care about anymore are the kids and not her), how much it blows to be stuck like this.

And all Bradford has to do is offer up some half-hearted consolement, assure her that (while Donald is definitely being too overprotective) that of course Scrooge still cares about her, is still thinking about her, is still thinking about her, after all he's making her the-

And then cut himself off, like he said too much. That's aaaaallll that's needed to peak Della's interest, after all. And as soon as that's peaked- it's over.

All he has to do is hem and haw back and forth, say 'oh but he made me promise never to say anything' and 'I could get in trouble' and so on and so forth. Make it seem like he didn't want to say anything. Make Della feel like she earned the information, that he didn't plan this from the start.

And when she finally gets the information about the Spear out of him, and her eyes light up like stars and she darts off to go see if he was telling the truth, he can be confident that she'll never remember that he was the one who told her about it. All she'd be able to think about is 'I figured it out.' Because she had, after all. She'd figured it out, all her, he definitely hadn't pointed her in that direction at all.

He got to get rid of a liability and break the family, all in one fell swoop.

#ducktales #dt17 #della duck #bradford buzzard #honestly I hem and haw over the idea that like #he sabotaged the spear #planting a bomb in it or something #or more specifically having black heron plant said bomb #so he can still pretend to himself that he's not evil #but the storm came out of nowhere and stopped the sabotage from actually working #from killing her #just because I like the idea of the storm that took della away from her family #also potentially saving her life #and her hating it for that

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mayashesfly · 15 days

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Hi!!

I really love your idea with that Au where Vox forgot about Alastor. I hope you don't mind questions because I have a few 😅😅

Why did he erase his memories? Was it because it was too painful to remember, or was it because he couldn’t deal with the obsession anymore and wanted to move on?

What will Alastor do about this? How do the Vees react to this information? Like they obviously know Alastor unlike Vox.

Thank you for expressing your interest and asking! I'm glad you enjoy the idea ^w^

I have also made another post about Forgotten Radio AU here if you like to read that. Though do take note that some of the things I've said here and there may be subject to change as I flesh out this AU of mine in time.

For the first question, it's a mixture of the two.

Before Alastor left for seven years, Alastor and Vox had a fight that spiralled out of control which caused Valentino to intervene, causing Vox and Valentino's left antenna to be both be damaged because of Alastor's pettiness. After that, Alastor disappeared while Vox and Valentino was recuperating from that fight.

(Velvette didn't intervene despite already being a part of the Vees at this point since she feels like she doesn't have the right to because she doesn't know the full context of Alastor and Vox's previous relationship and what Vox and Valentino had been through. Vox and Alastor was already having their bitter rivalry and fighting by the time Velvette manifested in Hell)

A major part of my personal take on Vox's character is that he has this built-in need to constantly improve himself so he doesn't lose the things he has in his life.

Vox knows that his obsession with Alastor has been negatively impacting his life and those around him. Especially since it was because of a fight between him and Alastor that Valentino lost his antenna.

When he ended up in a depressive episode and constantly trying to look for Alastor everywhere with his cameras, he ended up neglecting his relationship with Valentino and Velvette. Even Voxtek took a hit since the wound was still raw (literally)

He was at a standstill and he needed an intervention.

Stat.

The first initial "memory wipe" was an impulsive harsh decision on his part. It was sloppy and rough since Alastor was so intricately tied into his early memories in Hell.

But it worked.

At least, for a little bit.

One day, Vox left his office, greeting Valentino and Velvette. The two commenting on the other's more cheery attitude.

At first, Vox was disoriented from the memory wipe. But it instantly improved his mood like never before. For once since that someone's disappearance who is that someone? his mind was completely clear.

Some of his early memories with Valentino was also spotty however. But it eventually smoothened out and he was able to clearly recall those moments of Val.

Though that was not all.

For some reason, he can't bring himself to renovate certain buildings under his name. He didn't really know why but when he saw a certain torn up photo inside of one of his drawers near his bed....

Memories of Alastor flooded back inside his mind and the brutal cycle went again.

It was only after cleanly cutting himself away from the picture did his next memory wipe became much more successful.

He kept the photo of Alastor for business and planning reasons only.

But now there was nothing showing on the picture that he had ever been involved with that demon.

He had been able to find the root of the problem which has caused the failed memory wipe. But now that he has that sorted out and have the appropriate safety and preventive measures to ensure that won't happen again...

Alastor would never take from him again.

Not when he can't ever remember him again.

While Vox is a technology demon, his soul is still human. So despite being able to theoretically erase his memories from his physical body, they're still there spiritually inside of him. Not all demons are given a physical brain after all.

I mean one of the Overlords is a skull on fire, there's probably not a brain there somewhere. And Vox can LITERALLY change his head. Not only that but I'm sure some Sinners got their brains fucked one way or another before fully regenerating, but they'll still probably retain their memory. So yeah, I'm going with the soul shenanigans route on this one.

One of Vox's "preventive measures" to ensure his memory wipe business won't unravel ever again is by wiping his short-term memory about any interaction and mention of the Radio Demon. It was inevitable that one of the Vees would question him about Alastor even after he informed them of his decision after all.

That's also the reason why after Val informed Vox about Alastor return and residence in the Hazbin Hotel that he forgot about him again and thought Alastor was a new upcoming Overlord during the meeting.

My apologies for the long winded explaining-turned-writing. That's just how my brain works when explaining these things :P

Now on your second question!

At first, Alastor would do subtle gestures in order to gain Vox's attention hopefully. However each failed attempt would make his frustration slowly grow and grow over time.

When Alastor caught sight of the painfully obvious Vox drones around the hotel, he purposefully posed in front of them a few times, hoping to finally gloat out the tv-headed demon from his hiding. Much to his growing annoyance and confusion though, nothing happened as the drones flew passed him due to the corrupting footage in order to clearly see what else was happening in the hotel. He did this for a few times a day in slowly increasing frequency for the entire week before Sir Pentious attacked the hotel again and proceeded to get fucked over for ruining Alastor's coat. Alastor barely letting the poor demon alive thanks to Charlie's pleas.

Alastor has missed Vox.

After his seven years of absence, the first place he went to was the very first store front he helped Vox to get and buy. The Radio Shack. At first, those picture boxes were the newest thing in town. And he didn't even stain them with the innards of his enemies!

But a certain broadcast brought him back to reality as to why he was able to go back to hell as he stared at the image of the Princess of Hell, Charlie Morningstar.

Vox has already sold some of the old tvs despite being stained and bloodied, unlike in Canon because of his lack of attachment.

Alastor was banking on Vox to notice his absence and do something about it just like old times. However a week of waiting and nothing had happened. Except for the new additions of drones around the hotel he resided in.

He thought by some point surely Vox would do something as he posed in front of the cameras subtly. But nothing happened for a week and Alastor started to feel confused because he didn't know if Vox was actually paying attention to him when those stupid flying things were just ignoring him!

(In my mind, the reason why Alastor looked mildly annoyed at Vox's broadcast in Stayed Gone was because he thought Vox would've confronted him directly instead of dissing him on the screen. It was a special occasion after all! He just came back from a seven year absence! But no. He still happily took the chance though and quickly ran/teleported back into his radio tower to diss him back)

After the confrontation between the two of them in the Overlord Meeting, it takes Alastor a while to puzzle out what Vox did to himself. He doesn't fully know that Vox actually completely wiped his memories of him but he does know that Vox doesn't seem to care about him anymore, even with their bitter rivalry and that hurt.

It was yet another thing that changed when it was somrthing he could always count on despite how fucked up that is.

His frustration starts being inflicted onto other people who were unfortunate enough to cross his path while he's fuming about this change (ei Sir Pentious and possibly Husker later down the line)

And his want to get back Vox's attention eventually escalates to him destroying some of Vox's properties by asking his Shadow. Starting small like a few drones and cameras, to some of the store fronts of his. (But never the Radio Shack. Never that.)

Even with Alastor's feelings about Vox ignoring him, he would never risk his reputation by overtly and directly trying to get Vox's attention by himself.

The only way I can see this plot between Alastor and Vox progress is when enough time has passed and Alastor's inhibitors and self-control snapped that he physically teleports himself into Vox's office to directly confront him. (It hurt to use his shadow to travel there with all the blinding lights but the hidden radio in his office helped to ease the stinging pain a little)

Or Vox directly involves himself with the Hazbin Hotel because he never sent in Sir Pentious himself and he still had to make sure that the Radio Demon, a previously powerful Overlord, wouldn't make a deal with the Princess of Hell of all people. (Unlike Canon Vox, he has enough tact to stay in the same room as Alastor to not need a proxy. On the topic of Sir Pentious, it's currently a toss up if he'll ever enter the Hazbin Hotel or not and fuck up the timeline big time)

Once Alastor realized just how badly Vox fucked up that he erased his memories of him, he would try his best to jog his memory.

But constantly having to reintroduce yourself to Vox because his memories of you keeo getting wiped away is excruciating.

"Are you new around here?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm sorry, I don't think we've met before"

"It's nice to meet the man helping Princess Charlie with her endeavor"

"Oh! So you're the Radio Demon himself?"

"I'm Vox from Voxtek, the Leader of the Vees. Nice to meet you"

So any of his progress, no matter how little or large would get erased the next meeting. Even if he just left his sight for even a moment....

It was going nowhere.

He can never ever reconnect with Vox ever again.

Just like he wanted.

Even as his friendship bloomed with the Princess and the residents, even as his powers and influence continue to grow, it was always back to square one with him.

He was so close, yet he was the farthest he's ever been to him.

"You've never cared about me, Alastor. What changed now?"

Now with the Vees, Valentino was rather furious and hurt the first time it happened. Vox didn't even consult him, didn't even say anything to him about this decision! And it hurt when Vox seemed to have also lost some of his memories of him. Velvette had also been enraged and confused about Vox's actions. It was needless to say they were both unnerved.

It took a while, but they got used to it and Vox getting back his memories of Valentino helped.

Vox was happier this way after all, and it wasn't like they can do anything to revert his decision even if it was done in impulse...

However, it had been difficult for them when Vox had a relapse after regaining his memoried of Alastor. The grief was raw and fresh again which didn't help matters.

This time around though, despite Vox's distressed state, they did talk about his decision and vowed to try to never mention the Radio Demon again. It still takes them some time adjusting though, and even Val falls through on his old habits sometimes.

They know it was Vox's decision and they respect that. Even if it hurts a bit, at least he was happy.

I hope this sufficiently answered your questions even if most ended up as writing instead of concise explanations. Thank you for asking these questions! It makes me happy to see you guys are interested! ^w^ ^w^

#may asher writes #may asher answers #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel alastor #radiostatic #voxal #silentstatic #Forgotten Radio AU #hazbin hotel vees #my apologies if there's any mistakes #it's currently late so i'll fix em later on #Thank you for asking! ^w^

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wordsbymae · 1 year

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"They ain't lap dogs you know, they're working dogs and you spoil em too much" but mousey is for sure his lap dog lmao

so now farmer finally has them. what now? would he propose, not like in the the other AU when he is older? or would he just start going around the town telling people about his little wife/husband/spouse? because, what is little mouse supposed to do? they just can't say no to the only person that is so nice to them, the only person that takes care and protect them (or so the farmer say). mousey must return the favour.

I literally was going to answer about an hour ago but got completely distracted by making a mood board for the farmer's two dogs cause you reminded me of them. whoops!

Anyway!

Oh for sure!!!! He doesn't need his boys to be his lap dogs when he has the prettiest thing all to himself.

There is no way on God's green earth he will ever actually propose. Don't get me wrong, he wants nothing more than to marry his little mouse and put a ring on it. But actually courting them? Actually having to be vulnerable and open himself up to rejection?

Never ever going to happen.

I can see this going really two ways, there is a third secret option but that's for later.

The first way is he just starts acting like you're married. Tells everyone in town he can't stay too long or the missus/ his partner will be getting worried. Gushes about your cooking to anyone who will listen makes it clear that he's got a sweet little thing waiting all for him back at home. Carries a Polaroid picture of you hugging Pancho, with a big wide smile and while Lefty sooks in the corner. He'll show it off whenever he has the chance, talking about you and your boys.

Those who watched you two that day at the farmers' market just nod their heads with smiles and wish him all the best. He probably starts even wearing a plain gold band. Proud to show it off.

Meanwhile, the reader is confused when the very rare times they leave the farm everyone wishes them congratulations (and asks if any kids will be coming).

Mouse brings it up to the farmer and tells them they don't want people getting the wrong idea. They're just friends. The farmer just laughs at this.

"It's a bit too late to stop them from getting the wrong idea Mouse"

He practically gaslights them, I mean what's the big problem? Who cares if a few town folks think they got hitched. They are living together. You do act like a homemaker. You can't blame anyone for thinking you two had been married for years. The only thing stopping you two from actually being seen as truly married is the lack of a ring on your finger and you not being in his bed.

And would it really be so bad? Being his?

He's been so good to you. So kind. Like how a real husband would act. He looks after you and protects you. Buys you the prettiest things and asks nothing in return.

But now he is. Now he's asking for payment. Be his little homemaker in law as well and he'll take care of you like he always has.

You can't say no. You quit your job when your cottage burned down, just as the farmer told you to.

"I'll look after you mouse. Until you get back on your feet of course"

No one is hiring in town and even if you did get a job you wouldn't be able to buy or even rent a house. There was nowhere to go. There was taking the chance on living on the streets but wouldn't it just be easier to just say yes?

He was kinda right. You've already practically been his stay-at-home sweetheart, how bad would it be if you put a ring on your finger. This is everything you've ever wanted. To be his pretty spouse, him all to yourself.

So why did it feel so wrong?

The second is mostly fem reader but he would not be against baby trapping. If for even one moment he thought you would say no to being his wife, he would resort to baby trapping. I always view this fic set in the 60s or 70s (maybe even 50s) so there would be no way you could leave him with a babe in your belly. You would have no husband and no support. So of course you don't really have a choice. You're already on thin ice living with a single man, but that was something you could cover by explaining why. But a baby? That can't be hidden, can't be explained away. So as soon as you knew, the farmer would have a priest ready and waiting.

Tag list: @floraroselaughter

#implied pregnancy #mostly gn reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere drabble #yandere prompts #oc #oc farmer #yandere farmer #baby trapping #pregnancy #fem reader for half

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twoheartswrites · 1 year

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Can you write a Hank, Connor, Markus, and Luther (separately) x reader fic where the reader likes to dress feminine and likes to paint his nails and stuff like that and the reader wants to paint Hanks, Connors, Markus’s etc nails or like do their makeup? Please and thank you 💗

Feminine Reader w/ DBH guys HCs

Fem aligned people (+ She/Her users) DNI

[FTM Friendly] Male Reader x DBH Guys

Fluff/Hcs

Detroit Become Human

Hank:

When he first met you, he felt happy that you felt so confident in how you express yourself.

It's what pulled himself to you in the first place

He loves also having pictures of you too because of it

He finds it contrast dynamics really attractive. He's a gruff "Hawaiian shirt" kinda guy who's dating a sweet "Cardigan with Fancy Pants" guy

Makes his heart melt

Especially if there's a height difference (Either way if you're taller or shorter, he loves height difference)

I feel like it'd take him a lot of convincing for him to wear makeup, especially if you try to get him to wear it outside of the house

but nail painting is on the table.

Colors like pink, or blue, or black if it goes well with his shirt

He's also very supportive of multicolor

Like having a dark blue on his index fingers while all the other nails are black

Now if you wanna do makeup, it'll take a while. But once you've finally convinced him (and maybe even promised that it'll only be an at home thing) he'll finally give in

He's a little flinchy, and pretends to hate it, and though for him the makeup feels "Heavy"

he still enjoys the end result, especially if you like it too

Connor:

It didn't phase him at all when he first met you

in fact, he never really paid attention to the fact until he introduced you to Hank

After you had left and it was just him and Hank, Hank started to explain to him the comparison's of how guys tend to wear more masculine things rather than feminine

Connor starts learning about fashion after that from magazines

I mean, if Connor were offered a dress or a tux, he wouldn't care for either, really. "It depends on the occasion" he says.

But now when he's with you, he's singing more praises towards you

He's more away of how others and you dress

"You're wearing pretty make up today" "Your shirt and nail match! :)" "So you're telling me you purposely match your shoes with your tops?"

If you ever try to paint his nails or do his makeup, he'll absolutely, with no hesitation, accept.

he could watch you paint his nails all day

He could chat your ears off while you do his makeup too

He loves the idea of makeup and painting his nails

Markus:

You're one of Carl's friends, one of the few that still care for him as a person, so Carl doesn't have one problem with you and introduces you to Markus

Markus's first thoughts of you was "Wow, he's really sweet and looks cute..."

You eventually start dating, and that means adding new clothes to impress your android boyfriend

You stop by the house every week to visit and take care of Carl

and to visit your boyfriend

Carl teaches you to paint, and you show him your makeup skills

One day, Markus will be doing dishes while you and Carl talk and Carl says something like

"You should do Markus's makeup"

He probably only said that cus Markus may have said some things about wanting you to paint his nails and stuff, but he thought Carl was already asleep by them

You happily bring it up later in private after Carl's asleep

And Markus is secretly very excited about it too

Do his makeup, paint his nails, he loves it all <3

Luther

Luther loves praising others, and loves to call you handsome and pretty all the time

He offers his face and hands to you the very moment you meet

"Oh you have very cool hands, do you mind painting my nails someday?"

"I like your makeup, maybe you could teach me?"

He's a very Quality Time romantic

So when you spend time focusing on making him almost as handsome as you, he can't help that he likes you this much.

He loves your clothing choice as well, and he seems like the type to also know some fashion tips, so he'll give you advice once in a while

As long as you want it

and if you're willing to give him advice too

#DBH Hank #DBH Connor #DBH Luther #DBH Markus #x male reader #male reader #m reader #x m reader #gay #trans male reader #x trans male reader #x ftm reader #ftm reader #HCs #DBH #Detroit Become Human #&.twoheartswrites

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anjelicawrites · 10 months

Text

A quick idea for moder!Aemond x friend!reader with fake dating that didn't want to let me go.

Your phone rings shy of nine o'clock in the morning and it's Aemond. If Aemond calls you this early, you know there's a problem ahead

"I need you to be my plus one"

"Hello Aemond, good morning to you too. How are you doing?"

"Good. I need you to be my plus one"

"Care to explain this sudden influx of feelings?".

You can hear him hum, unhappily, and then sigh teatrically

"I have a family function"

"So?"

"Alys left me"

"And no one more than us friends had been happier since that happened"

"I know. You all got drunk"

"Best bender of my life"

"I had to pick you up from the hospital the day after"

"Still the best since finishing my Master's"

"You had to have your stomach pumped that time"

"So what? Sure sign of good fun had"

"You need to focus"

"Yeah. Why do you want me to be your plus one?"

"Mother tried to make me meet so many children of family friends and business partners that I had to invent I have found someone".

You can't help yourself, you guffaw without shame.

"Are you done?"

The annoyance in his tone sobers you up immediately.

"I'm sorry Aemond"

"I had to invent a significant other. I've always managed to find excuses for them not to show up at family functios, to have an excuse not to go myself, but mother is suspecting something and now I need someone"

"Aemond, you should stop being smart only when you remember to be"

"I know. Will you help me?".

You can hear how hard is it for him to ask, it has always been like this with Aemond.

"Don't you have someone else? Maybe an escort?"

"Aegon knows all of them and I told mother that she knows this person"

"And I am your best option? Your mother hates me"

"She doesn't"

"Do you remember the long theological discussion we had about the Seven not existing?".

Aemond groans, you can picture him facepalming.

"She started to look at me with an extremely crossed expression ever since"

"She doesn't" Aemond says, knowing full well I'm his heart that Alicent doesn't like you.

"Aemond come on! Ok, your Baela and Rhaena are a no go, but there's the Baratheon sisters, one of them would be happy to help or some random Lannister or Tully?"

"I rejected all of them when mother tried to push me with one of them"

"Oh Aemond. You did really shot yourself in the foot this time"

"Don't remind me"

"Why didn't you tell Alicent the truth? That you don't want anyone else at the moment?".

Aemond uhms unhappily, he's pacing around, you can hear his footsteps in the distance.

"She cares too much about this. She was happy as well when Alys left and she wants me to go back to normal"

"By forcing you to find someone? Like changing one old car for a newer one?"

"You know how hard it had been for me. She thinks it will help me dig myself up"

"I like your mum, I really do, but that's a stupid idea. You need to do all the mourning you need".

You sigh. Yes, you were happy when Alys left, all of you friends were, but for Aemond had been hard to process that the person he thought was the one, left him and never coming back.

"Will you help me? I don't want to have this conversation with mother, not now"

"I will, but you owe me one"

"I know. It's going to be a formal event"

"Then you will buy me a nice dress"

"I thought you have one"

"And I thought you were desperate enough to come to me for this"

"I hate you. Come to the office later and I'll give you my card"

"You shouldn't say that to your significant other and thank you. Lend me the black one, will you?".

The night of the event, you stare at your reflection in the big mirror you have in the hallway. You had chosen a sapphire blue dress, with a modest neckline, nice heels and a beautiful black coat to go with it. You spent a pretty penny for the whole getup, plus the makeup and hairstyle, but it's old Targaryen money, they will not miss it and have probably earned it shadily, so they deserve to lose a bit of it to make you beautiful for the night, and for your friend.

As punctual as usual, Aemond rings your doorbell and you run hastily to the lift, not wanting to have him wait when you know he's not happy to go, to begin with.

He's dressed to the ninth, the back suit, the crisp dress shirt, his long hair in an elegant braid, waiting for you propped against his everlasting old car Vhagar. You can see his eye pop up in surprise at your whole getup; he's seen you in casual clothes, wasted beyond words, at your graduation ceremony, but never so elegant and formal, like a model ready for a glamorous shooting.

"See? I've spent your money right" you laugh twirling around

"I had no doubts" he answers, taking your hand to help you inside his car

"How affectionate do you want me to be?"

"Not overly - he says, schooling his voice - a decent amount but I am not someone for extreme PDA"

"Ok - you smile - unclench Aemond, tonight is going to be a success!!!".

He tries, but you've just hit him like a punch in the face, all these feelings dormant in his chest furiously trying to crawl out of the cage he'd hidden them in for years. He's fucked beyond saving and has no one to blame.

Aemond taglist: @phantoms-main-blog

Everything taglist: @ilikeitbetterangsty

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen

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gggreengoblin · 7 months

Text

3.1 K words. It is 3rd part of my Girl!Daniel fic. Part 1 | Part 2

Summary :: During an argument, Daniel said something she shouldn't have said to Max. She had to navigate the consequences of her rash action.

She was seated in the passenger seat of a rental car and couldn't stop herself from jigging her legs along the beats of the rap song. She had been away from a circuit for too long. Excitement was fueling her body. Once again, her system was flooded by adrenaline, making her feel alive.

"Please stop, Daniel. You are making me anxious." The driver said. Well, he was, technically, not a driver. Just a Red Bull crew who picked her up from the airport.

Daniel warped her hands around her jeans-cladded knees. "Ah, sorry. I am just excited. I've been stuck in England for weeks. It's nice to be able to travel again."

"I heard about that," he said. "I think it is a bad idea, really. If I could afford to live in Monaco, I would leave London in a heartbeat. And for you, to do the opposite is-" he made a hand gesture with his right hand while the other holding the steering wheel.

"Nuts, right? It only took me two weeks to realize it was a bad idea." She laughed at her own stupidity.

It was silly of her to think moving would solve her problem. It was a mistake– a big one. Turns out London was too lonely, too cold, and bleak for Daniel's taste. And nothing could help her feel better there.

The only thing she could think about was her old normal. She missed traveling, sunny days, and a friend who would visit her whenever he could. So when Red Bull told her to prepare herself to do some testing during the Fp1, she was overjoyed. She packed her bags and suitcases, shoving her racing gears, which were still inside an unopened cardboard box.

They wanted her to arrive at the media day morning. So she boarded the plane, put her Red Bull polo on once she arrived at the airport, and went straight to the circuit.

When they arrived, the paddock was bustling, full of journalists and crews. They interviewed and took pictures of the drivers like they could get enough of them. Some of them said hello to her. The PR team snapped some pictures of her while she was dragging her suitcase and bags through that overcrowded place.

"Hi, guys!" She waved at the camera. And they waved back.

She unpacked her suitcase in her driver's room. She took out her racing gears and hung them in the small closet. For a moment, she let herself admire her racing suit. Oh, how she loved its color, but she loved it more because it had her name and flag printed on its waist.

And then she went to the garage. She met with her newly found engineer friends, the ones she bugged whenever she felt the need to do something during her weeks-long exile in England. They were already working; paper, pens, and tablets were scattered around the long table. She stood among them, trying to mimic her surroundings.

Heavy technical talk bore her, so Daniel wandered and walked around the garage. She ran her hand on every surface there, just a ghost of touch, not moving things or pushing any buttons. She wanted to burn this experience into her core memory because it might be her last time being inside an F1 garage as a driver, even just as a test driver.

When the engineers had finished their discussion, she approached one of them, who was standing in front of the monitor, reading his notes. She greeted him. She knew that man, Theo. He was a friendly Englishman.

"I didn't know we would use Max's garage. So cool," she said.

He just smiled and showed her his black binders. "Look at this." He explained to her what they would do the next day. "I think it would be great to finally test it out with a real car because the sim test data is immaculate. Thanks to you, we have more than enough data from the sim."

"Yeah. I can't wait." Honestly, Daniel didn't understand half of the things Theo said, but she got the picture. It was okay, she would get a detailed explanation during the briefing anyway.

"I feel like building a rocket ship, not a car."

She understood what he meant. These cars were beasts. Fast and reliable. Some people had already called them rocket ships.

A big hand squeezed her left shoulder lightly. Max was standing beside her. "I heard you were here," he said, a little breathless. Clearly, he was running away from his media duty and sneaked to the garage.

Like everyone in this garage, he was clad from head to toe with their merch. There was something different about him that she could not put a finger on yet. But she noticed his new cologne. It was sweeter than usual, with maybe a little bit of a chocolate undertone in it.

"What's up, Maxy? Do you miss me already?" She offered him her biggest smile.

"Do you miss me?"

"I asked first." There was a hope in her heart that he would say he missed her. She had limited their texting for the last few weeks. It would be impossible for her to move on if they were still texting every single day.

"I do miss your cookies."

"Only my cookies?" she teased. "Too bad, I didn't bring any."

"I need to talk to you about something. Can we move to somewhere more private?" Max said, out of the blue.

Daniel looked at Theo who just gave them a knowing glance. "I need to go back to work." He gathered his papers and put them back inside his binder. "See you later, Daniel. Bye, Max."

"Can we go to your driver's room?" Max said after Theo left. It was an unusual request. They didn't hang out in their driver's rooms.

"Yeah." Curiosity got the best of her sometimes. "What's going on?"

Max led her into the narrow hallway, exiting the garage. "Who is he?"

"Our engineer. A friend. Why?"

"Great. So you still like your mysterious guy?"

"I guess."

"When will you have time to visit Monaco?"

She opened her door and let them in. "Sorry, it's a mess." She pushed her suitcase and bags that were lying around on the floor to the corner of the room. "I can visit you during winter break, maybe before Christmas. Why?"

"Daniil just broke up with his girlfriend. If you want, Kelly and I can arrange dinner for you."

She froze. "Dinner with Daniil?" She turned around and faced Max, who had a blank look on his face. "Wow! What? Did I- did I miss something?"

"You like him, right? I want you to be happy, Daniel. If he can do that, I will do anything to make it happen."

"Oh my god, I can't believe it! You two are so cruel!" The thought of Max and Kelly discussing her dating life made her blood boil. And for them playing matchmaker, arranging Daniel a date with Kelly’s ex not the least, was unbelievably evil.

"You said you like him!"

"I never said that!" she said, raising her voice. "You made your own conclusion. Just leave it alone, yeah. Why do you have to always bring it up? Every single conversation we have had has always ended with you bringing this topic up." She wished she never opened her mouth and blabbed her feelings to Max. If she knew Max would be obsessed with this, then she would have buried this secret even deeper.

"I just want to help, Daniel."

"But your help only makes things worse."

"Then tell me what I can do!"

"Just let it go, yeah. It would be better for us if you just left it alone."

"No. I know you are miserable. Let me do something. Tell me. Just tell me who it is, Daniel. I promise I will shut up after this."

"It's you, alright," she said.

The room became quiet. Max just stood there, looking directly at her, not blinking. She could hear her heartbeats in her ears. She felt her palms become wet and cold. She wished she could disintegrate and become a pile of dust, gone, blown away by the wind.

She cleared her dry throat, trying to find her voice. "Can we move on, now?"

"What do you mean?" He finally said something after a minute of silence.

"Max, I'm sorry. Please forget it, okay? I don't mean to say that. My feelings will pass, and everything will go back to normal. I don't want to ruin everything. Shit." She opened the door and gently pushed him out of her driver's room. But he was larger and stronger. He didn't even budge.

"I love you too."

"No, you don't." She tried again, pulling on his bare front arm, trying to drag him out of her private room. She just wanted to be alone and hide in her room, God damn. "Don't make fun of me like this."

There was no point in trying to make a grown man move when he didn't want to. So she left him there. She ran back to the garage while doing her breathing exercises to calm herself down. She knew Max was trailing behind her. She could feel his gaze behind her head.

She found Theo's notebook lying on the table, unattended. She opened that binder with her shaking and sweaty hand, pretending to read. She was trying to look busy, so no one talked to her.

"I was not making fun of you," Max said with a hushed voice. He was standing close to her, too close, so no one could hear what he said.

Daniel scanned the garage. She was grateful there was no camera pointed at them. It would be a nightmare if people knew. Sure, Netflix would put their conversation in the documentary if they caught them in a video. "Not now, Max. I need to focus on tomorrow's testing." She took a step away from him.

"Daniel, there you are!" said a crew member from across the garage. She walked closer to them. "I was checking your room to make sure you got everything you needed, and I noticed you didn't have your balaclava. They said that you bring your own gear now."

"Sweet, I might have left them in my bedroom," Daniel said bitterly.

"It's okay, we'll find one."

.....

After she was done with the day, she packed her things from her driver's room and went to the hotel. She took a quick shower and changed her clothes. She was grateful to see that the black silk blouse she brought was not totally crumpled. She put a little makeup on her face- just a hint of color on her tired face. The humid air of the city made her curls difficult to manage, so she straightened them and tied them into a ponytail. She put a bandage on her bleeding thumb and then left the hotel.

She let out a sigh of relief when he got into the taxi the hotel had ordered for her. She asked the driver to take her to the shopping district of the city.

She opened her phone, which had been vibrating every few minutes for the last hour. She received several messages and missed calls from Max. She turned her phone off and kept it in the small sling bag she carried.

Daniel visited several unique shops on the street but didn't buy anything. Occasionally, she met fans who recognized her. They greeted her and some asked for selfies with her. She didn't mind.

She ends up visiting a cafe. She stopped by because she smelled the freshly baked pastry from inside of the cafe. She ordered some pastries and a cup of fancy latte to brighten her mood.

She sat in the corner, far from the big front windows. She didn't want to be disturbed. She wanted to dwell on her thoughts in peace for a bit. She didn't want to touch on what happened a couple of hours earlier. She wanted to put the memory in an imagination box and lock it, but she couldn't. It kept appearing in her consciousness even when she kept pushing it away.

Daniel wanted to blame it on Max. Because he had pushed her into confessing her feelings to him. But, can she? Maybe it was because of the nature of emotion. You can only suppress it for a certain period of time; after that, it will bleed. Like pushing a bubble of air inside water, the bubble would always surface.

It was already said. She couldn’t take it back. The only thing she could do now was navigate the disastrous aftermath. Maybe this was the end of their friendship. Was it a friendship if she had not thought of Max as “only a friend” for years?

She ate the cake and sipped her latte slowly. She savored them until she felt like several hours had passed. She asked the waiter what time it was; it was 8 o'clock. A good time to go back to her hotel. She needed a good night's sleep for tomorrow anyway.

When Daniel returned to her hotel, she found Max pacing in the hallway of her room. He played with his phone while putting one of his hands on his hip. When he saw Daniel, he immediately pocketed his phone and walked towards Daniel's door.

"Where have you been? I've been waiting in front of your door for almost an hour." He cranked his head to talk to her. With her heels on, she was a couple of inches taller than him.

"Jeez, everyone has their own thing going on, Max. Besides, you didn't tell me you would be here, right?"

Max observed Daniel's appearance from head to toe, lingering on her neck, where she put her dainty silver neck chain on. "Dinner?" he said.

"No, thanks. I'm good."

"I mean, did you just come back from dinner?"

"No, I was just walking around. Window shopping. What do you want?"

"Can we talk about earlier?"

"Do we really need to talk about it? Listen, I'm sorry. It was so selfish of me. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Can we talk inside your room? I— I need to explain everything to you."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Max."

"So you want to talk here? Okay," he said nonchalantly with a shrug.

Daniel looked around. There were only them in the hallway, but who could guarantee that no one would eavesdrop on their conversation? She took the key card from her bag, opened the door, and let them in.

"Please, be quick. What do you want to explain?" Daniel put her bag on the nightstand and took off the high heels while sitting on the edge of her bed. She massaged the soles of her feet. They were sore from her long walk.

Max stood there, four feet in front of her. She can still smell the circuit's aroma that clings to his skin and clothes. He took off his cap and ran his right-hand fingers through his hair. "I want you to know that I have been loving you for years."

Dumbfounded, she stared at him. She said nothing because her brain was overwhelmed by his confession.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Max said.

She shook her head. She felt her heart stop beating. She gripped the bedsheets. Trying to remember her grounding exercise. Who would believe him, though? When a guy who was in a long-term relationship with another woman told you that, it sounded like a lie, right?

"I broke up with her right after our conversation in the garage. Daniel, I was with her because I thought you only saw me as a friend."

She still couldn't process what she had just heard.

"Say something, Daniel."

"Ah, yeah– I–" she tried to form a sentence. She cleared her constricting throat and took a deep breath. "Max, that's so wrong."

"I want to be with you."

It took her back to a couple of years earlier. Daniel remembered what had happened to her at that time. Rumors had circulated that she was the reason one of her friends broke up with his girlfriend. It made her head spin, and she tasted a bitter sensation in her tongue.

"We can't! You just broke up like hours ago! I want to retire. I want to enjoy my last months of racing in peace, Max. The last thing I need is to be followed by drama everywhere I go. If people find out—if she tells the media why the two of you broke up—they will hunt me down." She still remembered how every interview she did always discussed that gossip. How they monitored and analyzed Daniel's interactions with her male friends. She wished she would never have to go through that again.

Max took her clammy hands, enveloping them in his bigger ones. His hands were freezing too. Maybe she was not the only one who felt lost, they were in the same sinking boat after all. "We are not celebrities," he said, "nothing will happen."

"Oh, you don't remember. They will find out and paint me as the bad guy. It did happen years ago, even when I had nothing to do with that breakup. I don't want to be put in that situation again."

''I didn't tell her anything about you. I will be okay, Daniel."

"She will know, Max. You broke up after we saw each other for the first time in weeks." Kelly was a smart woman. She surely would put two and two together. And if she were a cunning person, she would make this public to gain more attention, clicks, and followers. She could turn her misery into money.

"If something happens, I will take care of it. I promise. I will tell the PR in the morning." He held her hands tighter. “Give us a chance."

"We can't be together now, at least not yet. We will screw things up if we rush into this. We are not thinking clearly." She pulled her hands from his hold and stood up. There was a need to put some distance between them. This closeness felt too much, suffocating.

"We just found out about each other's feelings this morning. And I think you are downplaying your feelings for her, too. You're not a heartless monster, Max. If you feel nothing, you won't spend years in a relationship with her. Let's wait."

“How long do we have to wait?” He looked at her with his doe, pleading eyes.

“I don’t know.”

#maxiel #maxiel fic #f1 rpf #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #girl!daniel #my fic

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laxmiree · 5 months

Text

[CN] MLQC's Lucien Touching Date English Translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

I tenderly kiss his lips, the sensation of his warmth and trembles reminiscent of fluttering butterfly wings.

So clear and yet so real, distant yet within arm's reach.

Translation under the cut!

The sun shines warmly on me, but the worries in my heart do not dissipate. I sigh and roll myself further into the blanket.

[T/N: I really recommend following along the voice acting for complete experience!!!🥹 the whole thing just sounds so incredibly tender. Here's the CN Video link]

I bury my face in the blanket and take a deep breath.

Suddenly, a pair of hands stopped my movements. Lucien's scent mixed with moist warmth invades my nostrils. Along with it, there's a trace of laughter.

Lucien: Has this 'kid' who's wrapped herself up encountered something troubling?

Seeing him gently tuck my disheveled hair behind my ear as he spoke, I let out a soft sigh, gazing into those deep dark eyes.

MC: Do you still remember the visual design course I took before?

MC: The teacher wants to organize an art exhibition with the theme "Touching Beauty".

MC: The artwork I'm preparing is a photo and video series titled "Fledglings Caring for Their Parents".

I open my phone and hand over the backup to Lucien. He takes it and examines it carefully.

MC: In order to capture this moment with the nesting birds, I had the camera set up for almost half a month before finally getting the shot.

Lucien: Hmm... it's evident that our 'photographer' has put a lot of thought and effort into this.

Lucien: From the photo's results, I think it's quite good. Is there any problem with it?

I pat my face to refresh myself, noticing him soothingly stroking my hair, and can't help but sigh again.

MC: Sigh, I was really looking forward to it.

MC: But when I looked at the finished product, I realized I couldn't find that initial "touching feeling" I had in mind!

Lucien tilts his head, supporting his chin, and looks at me with half-dried hair strands hanging in front of his forehead, his eyes shining brightly.

Lucien: Well, why don't you go ahead and tell me, what does "touching" mean to you?

MC: I think... it should be emotions that can be felt by most people from things like family love, life, and nature, and so on.

MC: Then, I had a sudden inspiration and came up with this picture.

MC: The act of young birds feeding their parents not only reflects the continuation of life but also represents family love. It's truly touching people's hearts~

MC: But I didn't expect that when the final film came out, I couldn't seem to feel anything…

I lean dejectedly against Lucien's shoulder, and he naturally pulls me into his embrace, taking my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Lucien: What you're saying indeed falls within that category.

Lucien: But MC, have you ever considered that…

Lucien: Perhaps, the purpose of the teacher assigning this topic isn't to have you search for what most people feel, but rather to encourage you to express your own perception.

MC: My own perception?

I feel momentarily confused, and I rub my tired and sore eyes. Just as I'm about to continue thinking, a pair of hands cover my forehead, gently massaging my temples.

Lucien: (gently) We can leave this question for tomorrow to contemplate.

He bends down and gently kisses my forehead, his kiss tender and affectionate, then hugs me as we lie down.

Lucien: It's getting late now. It's time for us to sleep.

—-------------------------------------------------------

A gentle breeze brushes by, lifting the curtains quietly, and sunlight filters through the gaps, creating patches of light on the floor.

I contemplate the next steps of the filming plan absentmindedly, twirling the pen in my hand repeatedly, yet no new ideas are emerging.

When I'm at a loss, Lucien sits down beside me with a visual portfolio in hand.

Lucien: I just received a phone call. The cultural park that the research institute collaborates with in the neighboring city needs me to handle some matters today.

Lucien: Perhaps Miss Producer would like to accompany me?

MC: Of course, I'd be willing to. But, wouldn't it delay your work?

Lucien: It's just some simple matters to take care of. We can spend the rest of the time strolling around the park.

...Unable to come up with a plan for the moment, I think it might be a good idea to go on a trip to relax and unwind. With that in mind, I agree right away.

Just as we are about to set off, my phone suddenly rings. I cast a helpless glance at Lucien and step aside to answer Kiki's call.

—-------------------------------------------------------

After dealing with the unexpected work situation, I was shocked when I suddenly realized that half an hour had passed.

It seems like he heard the sound of me finishing work, and Lucien sets down the book in his hand to look at me.

I rub my temples and smile apologetically.

MC: I didn't expect it to take this long. Is it still possible to leave now?

He glances at his watch, pursing his lips with a hint of seriousness.

Lucien: It's indeed a bit late.

MC: I'm sorry... I…

I'm contemplating how to make amends when he suddenly smiles and takes my hand.

Lucien: But don't worry, we can take a special shortcut.

MC: Hmm? What…

Before I can finish my sentence, he leans in and embraces me, his pleasant grass scent instantly enveloping me.

MC: Pfft, what kind of special shortcut involves a hug?

Lucien: Not only does it require a hug, but it needs to be a tighter one. Though a bit puzzled, I still gently squeeze him, allowing myself to be fully enveloped in his embrace

Feeling my movement, he chuckles softly. The next moment, a refreshing breeze brushes against our skin, and the air carries a hint of moisture.

Lucien: We've arrived.

Lucien's clear voice rings in my ears, and I freeze for a moment before lifting my head.

The architecture before my eyes displays soft and elegant colors. Not far away, there's a well-designed bridge over flowing water, and further beyond are houses that are both elegant and innovative.

I look at Lucien and see him smiling leisurely, and only then do I realize what's going on.

MC: Professor Lucien, you didn't plan this from the beginning, did you?

Lucien: [chuckles] I'm just more adept at achieving the results I want in various ways.

Lucien: However, to better achieve our goals, sometimes it's necessary to make use of certain privileges.

With a playful glint in his eyes, he intertwines his fingers with mine and leads the way towards the pond.

Lucien: You have no business to attend to, so let's take our time and enjoy the scenery along the way. Even if something unexpected happens, it won't disrupt our planned outing.

The koi fish are joyfully swaying their tails, creating layer upon layer of ripples on the water's surface. The emerald green lotus leaves have become their best refuge from the sunlight.

As I lean in closer to the pond to get a better look, a slightly anxious call interrupts my actions.

Staff Member: Professor Lucien!

I turn towards the source of the voice and see a person wearing a white work uniform, panting heavily.

After Lucien responds to the staff member, he stands up and gives me a helpless look. I smile and wave him off, signaling for him to go attend to his work first.

While enjoying the scenery before me, suddenly, my attention is drawn to a snack stand selling cotton candy.

The colorful cotton candies are plump and neatly lined up at the stand. I can almost smell the sweet aroma that belongs to candies.

I pick two from the assortment of cotton candies and as I turn around, I see Lucien walking over as well.

MC: Did you manage to resolve your work so quickly?

Lucien: Mm, there was a slight deviation in one of the research results. I went to check the situation and found the issue.

Lucien: The time ahead belongs to just the two of us.

Lucien says as he turns his gaze to the cotton candy in my hand.

I hesitate between the two flavors for a moment and then with a smile, I hand him the cotton candy shaped like a rabbit.

MC: I'll try the fox this time, and I'll leave the rabbit to you~

The sweetness of the cotton candy melts in our mouths, and Lucien's eyes raised slightly at the taste, his eyes lit up.

Could it be that his cotton candy is really delicious? I can't help but glance over, and I see him subtly curving his lips as if he's aware of my curiosity.

Lucien: Do you want to exchange and try each other's flavors?

I nod and hand over the cotton candy I have in my hand.

But I see him take a bite of the cotton candy in his hand and then lean in closer.

The next second, the warm lips sweetened by the candy engulfed me. Flavor that uniquely belongs to him invades me and my senses.

After finally reclaiming my own breath, I feign wickedness and take a fierce bite of the cotton candy in my hand, saying.

MC: ...Looks like Professor Lucien's candy isn't as sweet as mine!

His eyes slightly curve, and a soft arc forms at the corner of his lips.

Lucien: (whispers very, VERY tenderly) Is that so? I feel that mine has gotten sweeter.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Sweetness intertwines between us, and amidst laughter, my mood surprisingly has become much more lightened.

I follow Lucien's footsteps as we stroll through this autumn scenery, and unknowingly, we've walked deep into the park, where we discover a uniquely designed building.

The building takes on a tiered structure, with a semi-transparent outer layer, blending technology and simplicity in just the right measure.

I can't help but hold Lucien's hand with some curiosity as we walk towards the exhibition hall. The moment we step inside, it feels like I've stumbled into another world.

Glistening streams of light glide across the ink-black walls, and the entire space seems endless. Mysterious and splendid array of colors fills my field of vision.

Glass display cases are scattered throughout the hall, showcasing butterflies of various sizes and colors, with many of them fluttering their wings gracefully.

The beauty before my eyes is truly breathtaking. I find myself widening my eyes and slightly parting my lips, yet I'm at a loss for where to begin with my praise.

Butterflies of various colors freely soar within the exhibition hall, some perched on the walls, others entwined together, creating a remarkably vivid spectacle.

Suddenly, a butterfly flies past me, its wings displaying a beautiful black and gold pattern, casting a radiant trail. I instinctively reach out to touch it, but my hand passes right through.

I raise an eyebrow in surprise and see Lucien slightly tilting his head, watching as the butterfly flutters and passes through his upturned palm.

Lucien: It should be a holographic projection, combined with some systems that allow interaction with real-time images.

MC: So lifelike... I was genuinely fooled just now.

I walk towards the depths of the exhibition hall with great interest. In the first few display cases, images of butterflies cycling through each stage of their life cycle are being showcased using holographic technology.

As I walk into the area dedicated to showcasing different butterfly species, the colors become even more vibrant.

I carefully observe each one, but when I reach the display case in the center, I suddenly can't look away.

Shades of light blue to deep purple on the wing surface are adorned with clusters of white, and when the light falls upon the wings, they shimmer with splendid radiance.

MC: This butterfly is so beautiful... Is it a Morpho Helena?

Lucien: Yes, this butterfly is known as one of the most beautiful in the world. It also has another name - the "Goddess of Light" butterfly.

Lucien speaks, and a hint of amazement flashes in his narrow eyes. Upon hearing his words, I lower my head and carefully examine the butterflies in the cabinet.

MC: It can actually emit light?

Lucien: Its wings have densely packed scales, and inside them, there are pigment particles. So when exposed to light, it refracts the light and produces a shimmer.

MC: No wonder it's called the Goddess of Light... It's like a jewel embedded in the sky.

He raises an eyebrow and gently taps the glass display case with his finger.

Lucien: The specimen of Morpho Helena is very rare. It was mentioned in the project proposal that this specimen will only be on display here for a few days.

Lucien: It seems like we arrived just in time.

Lucien lowers his eyes, and the soft light makes his gaze appear even more profound. I lower my head, gazing at the dazzling shimmer of the butterfly wings, and my heart feels touched.

MC: I'm glad I came here with you; otherwise, I would have missed out on such a unique butterfly.

Lucien: When I saw it mentioned in the project proposal, I guessed that you might like it here.

Lucien turns his head slightly to look at me, and his dark eyes dimming for a moment, making me realize something.

The sudden invitation this morning, the planned itinerary, could it be…

I look up at him, and he's standing amidst the specimens. The shimmering lights blended the colors of the butterflies flowing around Lucien.

MC: Lucien, thank you for bringing me here.

Lucien: Although I'd love to frankly accept your gratitude…. it seems like I've been given even more beauty instead.

Lucien: Because you're here.

He says as he's looking at me, his eyes reflecting my entire presence. Just then, a fluttering butterfly brushes past his cheek, lingering nostalgically for a moment.

My heartbeat slowly accelerates in my chest, as subtle emotions seem to swirl and intertwine in my heart.

I raise the camera and instinctively press the shutter button.

Lucien: MC?

His voice brings me back to reality, and I slightly pause, raising the camera in my hand to gesture toward him.

MC: Ah... I think I've found my "touching beauty".

Lucien watches my actions with a knowing smile, and he gently squeezes my hand, his tone soft.

Lucien: Anything is like a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp.

Lucien: But, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.

Lucien: Something you deliberately chase after is like a butterfly. When you chase it, you can never catch it. But if you sit quietly, it will land on you.

MC: (smiles softly) …I think I might know why my previous work didn't satisfy me.

He gazes at me, the shimmering lights filtering through his hair and falling on his eyelashes. As he shivers slightly, a fleeting glimmer passes through his dark irises.

Lucien: Hmm?

MC: I've always approached my work with a strong sense of purpose, which naturally couldn't touch me from deep inside.

Lucien looks at me and slightly curls his lips.

Lucien: Mm... it seems like you've already let go of the purpose that was troubling you.

Lucien: Perhaps, your butterfly is about to appear.

As soon as Lucien's voice falls, a holographic butterfly lands on my shoulder.

I turn my head in surprise, wanting to observe its appearance closely.

The butterfly seems to sense my gaze, and its wings quiver gently before it slowly takes off again, leaving behind a trail of light.

It flies forward, occasionally turning back to circle around us, as if confirming something.

MC: Is it guiding us?

Lucien: I think taking action might solve this question more effectively than asking.

He takes my hand and follows the butterfly towards the back of the exhibition hall. The moment we step out of the hall, the scenery in front of us changes once again.

Before our eyes is a field of flowers. Tender green branches are bent under the weight of vibrant blooms, and the wind sways the flower branches, causing petals to lift into the air and scatter before finally carpeting the ground.

MC: So beautiful—! It was leading us here all along.

Lucien: Perhaps it's inviting us to touch a real butterfly.

We walk towards the center of the flower field, and that's when we notice numerous different types of butterflies fluttering about, forming clusters of their own.

I'm a bit worried about disturbing them, so I stop in my tracks halfway.

However, Lucien seems to notice my worry and leads me forward.

Lucien: Don't worry, our arrival won't disrupt the tranquility of this little world.

Just as he said, the gracefully dancing butterflies haven't stopped their activities and continue tirelessly sipping nectar from the flowers.

I reach out my hand to touch them, feeling their beauty. Some of the flowers are exceptionally pretty, and I'm curious about their species, thinking of planting some on my balcony.

When I turn to ask Lucien, I see him standing amidst the flowers, quietly admiring the surroundings.

Lucien, enveloped in bright and vibrant colors, appears even more serene. The sunlight shining on him adds a touch of softness.

Suddenly, a butterfly with a shimmering blue glow flaps its wings and lands on Lucien's chest.

He lowers his head and gazes at it, his dark eyes flickering with light and shadow.

I want to touch the perched butterfly, but the startled butterfly instantly flies away, dispersing the beautiful scenery in an instant

I sigh softly, feeling a sense of regret as I try to withdraw my hand before it's suddenly held firmly.

Lucien: (whispers) Do you only have eyes for the butterflies?

He seems dissatisfied with my distraction and gently pulls my hand. Without any defense, I tumble into his embrace.

With our movements, the flying and parched butterflies around us feel disturbed and take off one by one.

Tiny fragments of light pass through their glistening wings and fall onto Lucien's face.

At that moment, it's as if I can hear the sound of their wings fluttering.

MC: Of course I have eyes for you too.

Lucien: Then I've also become a part of the scenery in your eyes.

His gentle gaze conveys his emotions to me, radiance sweeping across his pupils. His eyelashes quivering lightly, casting fragmented shadows.

I can't help but reach out my hand, gently touching his face.

MC: Not just in my eyes, but also a part of the whole scenery.

MC: We both unexpectedly barged into it.

Upon hearing my words, he can't help but chuckle softly. The warm sunlight falls upon his cheeks, making this whole person appear even warmer.

Lucien: Perhaps it's these unexpected surprises that make this world more romantic.

He looks deeply into my eyes, emotions as thick as ink welling up in the depths of his gaze, yet he gently occupies me in this way.

I raise my hand to hug him, and a hint of sweetness twirls around my heart, forming the simplest of sentences.

MC: Well then, since I've barged in, I will just stay and won’t leave~

Lucien: (in an incredibly gentle whisper) You've probably lost the chance to leave a long time ago.

Butterflies transform into the definition of beauty and envelop us tightly. He reaches out, caressing the tips of my ears. His movements touch deep into my heart.

I tenderly kiss his lips, the sensation of his warmth and trembles reminiscent of fluttering butterfly wings.

So clear and yet so real, distant yet within arm's reach.

I instinctively close my eyes, quietly reciting the answer within my heart.

What touches me are not the tangible presences, but the emotions themselves, whether complex or simple.

And also the butterfly on my shoulder, it barged into my life, accompanying and dancing forward with me.

#THAT FIRST KISS??? SIR YOU'RE IN PUBLIC PLACE #such a simple date but cute and touching 🥺#lucien trying to cheer her up by bringing her in that place #but then unexpectedly finding more beauty because she brings color to the whole place #the “butterfly” is both of them!! they both unexpectedly barged into each other life #and then choose to stay because it's what makes them happy #the last kiss desc is so beautiful i would hate it if elex mess the translation🥹#mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mlqc cn #mlqc spoiler #mlqc #mlqc translation #mr. love queen's choice #mr love lucien #mlqc xu mo #mlqc spoilers

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