#she was easily the most empathetic of them all

[sylver-drawer]

Tfw you make a whole new love interest for Athy because you dislike both of the canon ones

#both of them have similar flaws at different levels #no hobbies #no interests #no meaningful relationships nor the desire for any outside of her #they care but only at surface level and don’t care at a deeper empathetic level #like hey I like you but I actually don’t think I know what I like about you #and my care for you is explicitly more like I care for your attention #and I don’t really care about what you love #I only care about what you love if it affects you because if something happens to you your attention is also gone #I also don’t actually know that much about you #even though they’ve both spent different amounts of time with her #they don’t actually know nor understand Athy emotionally nor has Athy actually opened up about a lot of things #like the closest she’s opened up in her whole third life was to Jennette and that’s depressing #Ijekiel has seen a lot of her lonely and sad side but doesn’t know her internally or at a deeper level #Lucas has spent the most time with her but doesn’t understand her feelings completely at all nor does he understand her reasons and drive #nor does he really care about them as long as she’s alive #which applies to them both #also both would kinda suck politically and foreign affairs-wise speaking #Lucas would suck at foreign affairs because I physically cannot see him understanding or caring enough about others #he can fake kindness but he can’t fake understanding #and understanding is key for foreign affairs #Ijekiel would be better and his foreign Arlanta knowledge would help #but also #his social skills aren’t that much better than Lucas’ #there are too many cons for both of them that could outweigh the pros #and plus the pros Athy can easily access as friends anyway #I am a strong advocate for single Empress Athy or marrying a completely different and qualified person she meets in adulthood #like what happened to the flowery boy and lone wolf or literally any other noble in Obelia that’s around her age #or even foreign nobles #syl tea

[noosayog]

003 an unexpectedly sweet valentine

❥ warnings/content: kuroo tetsuro x reader, sfw, slight angst if you squint, mostly fluff, jealousy

❥ wc: 3.4k

❥ valentine's masterlist, regular masterlist

“Good morning, senpai!” 

Your senior of one year turns around as he changes from his outside shoes to his inside shoes. “Huh? Oh, morning.” 

“It’s raining hard today, huh?” 

“Oh, yeah. Sure is.” 

“Did you bring an umbrella?” 

“Nah, forgot it.” 

“Aw, too bad! I remembered mine today!” 

“Good for you.” 

The conversation comes to a lull. Senpai stands there looking at you, as if to ask, anything else?

Somewhat awkward, you wave to him. “Have a good day, then!” 

He nods, turning away to make his way to his first class of the day. 

“Wowwww,” a voice from above you drawls. “That was a painful watch.” 

You swivel around to face Kuroo, your classmate. 

“Shut up, Kuroo,” you growl at him. 

“‘Morning Senpai! Have a good day Senpai!’” He mocks you in a high pitched voice. 

You give him a swift kick in the shins, satisfied when he bends over to cradle the spot. 

Kenma appears from behind him, shaking off the stray droplets clinging to his hair. “You deserved that.” 

“Morning, Kenma,” you snicker.

Kenma returns your greeting, heading off to his own class in the year below yours and Kuroo’s. 

A tap on your shoulder gets your attention. “Sorry about him. He’s just in a bad mood because of the rain.” 

“Kai-kun!” you greet. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for this idiot.” 

“Hey!” the idiot in question protests. 

Another head pops out from behind Kai. “What’s going on? Talking rooster head trash? That’s a conversation I can contribute to.”  

“Morning, Yakkun.” 

“Can we not talk about me like I’m not here?” Kuroo complains. 

“Shall we head to class?” Kai asks, easily ignoring him. 

“Yep!” 

“Hello? We’re all in the same class here!” Kuroo wails as he runs after the three of you.

In your homeroom, Kuroo, Yaku, and Kai all head to their seats as you take yours by the window. You greet your friends who sit by you, excited to ramble about your encounter with the cool Senpai from the basketball team whom you’ve recently developed a crush on.

“What do you like about that guy anyway?” your friend asks. 

“What do you mean? There’s so much to like!” 

She gives you a dubious look. “For example…?”

You start counting on your fingers. “Well, he’s captain of the basketball team, so he’s tall-”

“You like him because he’s tall?”

“He’s older, so he’s more mature-”

“Right,” she nods sarcastically. “Being a year older makes him so mature.” 

With two fingers up, you’ve run out of reasons. Your friend rolls her eyes at you. 

“Personally, I prefer the volleyball guys in our class.” 

“Kai-kun?” you nod empathetically. “I can totally see that. He’s kind and smart. Yakkun, too. He’s energetic and outgoing.” 

“Kuroo’s included in that group too, you know.” 

You wrinkle your nose. 

“What’s your beef with him? He’s tall, smart. Lots of people in our grade would say he’s funny too. He’s actually pretty popular.” 

You shake your head, “the most that guy has going for him is his friendship to Kenma. I can totally see someone getting close to him so that he’ll introduce them.” 

Your friend just shrugs patronizingly, like you’re beyond reasoning with. 

“Anyway,” you switch topics. “Senpai forgot his umbrella today, and it’s going to rain all day. I’m going to watch basketball practice afterschool and offer to share my umbrella with Senpai on the way home. Wanna come with?”

“Pass.” 

You shrug. “Suit yourself.” 

– 

“Did you hear that?” Yaku elbows Kuroo, whispering not very quietly.

Kuroo swipes at the elbow, rubbing his ribs and mumbling for Yaku to keep it down. 

“Damn, what’d you do? She thinks you’re such a loser.” 

“Gee, thanks,” Kuroo grits out. 

Yaku holds his hands up in surrender. “Just pointing out the facts.” 

“Hey, now. Let’s not be too hasty,” Kai cuts in. “It might just be a temporary infatuation with the basketball club guy. There’s still hope!” 

Kuroo groans and slumps forehead first onto his desk. Even when Kai is trying to be nice, it makes him feel so pathetic. 

–

When the final class of the day ends, Kuroo lingers in the classroom, still racking his brain for an excuse to keep you from going to the basketball club. He trails after you as you get up to leave the classroom. 

You’re taking a drink of water when Kuroo watches your friend shoulder into you a bit too hard, leaving you to stumble backwards, hands flailing to keep your balance. The uncapped water bottle in your hands goes flying into Kuroo, dumping its contents into the bag in his hands, containing the spare jerseys the volleyball team had planned on using for practice matches today. 

Kuroo drops the bag, arms coming up to support your back and keep you upright. 

When you’re stable on your feet, you quickly pick up your water bottle to staunch the flow of water, though it doesn’t matter much anymore given the jerseys are all soaked through. 

“Hey! What did you do that for?” you scold your friend. You turn to Kuroo, “thanks and sorry…” you trail off, not knowing how to remedy the situation. 

When Kuroo catches the wink your friend sends him, he catches on. “Aww man, now what’re we going to do for practice?” 

Yaku cuts in. “Oh, it’s fine. We can just use the spare-” 

Kai slaps a hand over Yaku’s big mouth, dragging him off towards the gym. “We’ll head to practice first. Why don’t you figure out the situation, Kuroo?” 

“Kuroo, I’m so sorry, but this was all her fault. Hey-” You turn to where your friend was standing, but she’s gone.

“We needed these for today’s practice. You’re just gonna have to help me out with the laundry to get these dried before the 3v3 drills then.” 

You pull a very displeased expression, mumbling something Kuroo can’t quite hear but is definitely a curse out of your friend. 

“Can’t I please make it up to you some other way? I have really important plans today.” 

Sure, as if trying to suck up to that basketball captain counts as really important plans. 

“All you have to do is toss these in the dryer and wait until they’re done. It’s the least you can do.” 

You offer a begrudging, “fine,” hauling the wet bag and following behind a triumphant Kuroo. 

As promised, it takes you less than an hour to dry the jerseys, passing the time by watching the volleyball club boys warm up and run drills. As you pull the jerseys out of the machine, Kuroo meets you by the locker room. 

“All done! Now can I-” 

“Man, it took too long to dry them. We had to restructure our drills since it’s too late to start practice matches now.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Look, Kuroo. I’m sorry, but I have no say over how long a dryer cycle is.” 

“I know. It just really put us in a hard spot, especially given that Nationals are around the corner…” he sighs audibly. “But it’s fine, I know it’s not totally your fault.” He sighs again. 

“Ok, ok” you give in. “What can I do to make up for it?” 

It takes all of Kuroo’s willpower to suppress a victorious grin. “Hmmm,” he pretends to deliberate. “Aha!” he exclaims. “You could be our manager until Nationals are over. That’d help the team and Coach Nekomata out a lot.” 

You hesitate. “Manager? Why don’t you just find a permanent one? Everyone says you’re all popular-”

“Everyone?” he smirks. 

“Yeah. Personally, I don’t really get it, but,” you miss the slight dimming of his grin. “I’m sure there’s someone out there who’d be more willing… I mean, more helpful than I would be.” 

“Figures that you’d try to weasel your way out of this.” 

“Weasel my way- wait just a second-” 

“It’s fine,” Kuroo cuts you off, turning around to leave you there. “You’re right, we’ll just find someone who’s more responsible.” 

“Hold on, Kuroo!” you grab the back of his jacket, pulling him back. 

This time, the grin on Kuroo’s face spreads in full force. 

“I’ll do it. I am not irresponsible.” 

“Great, you can start tomorrow.” 

You cross your arms over your chest, huffing indignantly like you’re satisfied that you’ve restored your reputation, your plans to be alone with basketball-senpai completely forgotten. 

Hook, line, sinker. 

–

Your job as the volleyball club manager is actually enjoyable. Save for the extended time you now need to spend in Kuroo’s company, you make friends with the rest of the team, especially the enthusiastic younger class. 

During lunch time, Kuroo will often request that you join Kai, Yaku, and him on the roof. 

“Why? I deserve freedom from you outside of volleyball club hours.” 

“Interesting that your commitment to taking the position of manager only extends to certain hours.” 

“What? Slander! I’m committed-” 

“We were going to discuss and review our plays from previous games, but I guess we’ll manage without you. Just hand me the notebook and we’ll review without you-” 

You stand abruptly, slamming your palms on your desk. With the notebook in question in hand, you storm past him, making your way to the roof access stairs without another word. 

“Well?” you demand when Kuroo doesn’t follow. “Are we going or what?” 

Kuroo grins. “Coming.” 

In your indignation, you fail to ever catch the grins from Yaku, Kai, and your friends. 

Sometimes, those lunches end up being just you and Kuroo, Yaku and Kai often being called away halfway through. Once all volleyball business is complete, you and Kuroo finish eating in relative peace. Often, he lies down to spend the rest of break napping. You tell yourself it’s too awkward to leave him there without a word, so you sit quietly to keep him company. 

One time, you had awoken to a sound of a camera shutter, realizing belatedly that you had fallen asleep on Kuroo’s shoulder. When you crane your head to face the boy in question, eyes wide and swiping at your lip in case you were drooling, you’re met with the usual smug grin on his lips, but his eyes are warm. Instead of smacking him and throwing a scatching remark, your cheeks heat up and you avert your eyes like an embarrassed schoolgirl.

–

When February rolls around, the entire student body is buzzing with the excitement of Valentine’s Day. You haven’t had any more development with basketball senpai, with your time mostly preoccupied with volleyball, but you’ve long standing plans to make Senpai chocolate. You’ve done research by asking around to find out that Senpai likes dark chocolate. 

“Have you thought about making the volleyball boys chocolate?” Mari asks you. 

“Yep, I plan to.” 

“And Kuroo?”

You choke on your water. “Why would you single him out? Of course… because he’s a part of the volleyball boys…” you trail off. 

Your friend props her chin on her palm, expression bored but the corner of her lips twitch. “Uh huh,” she says in obvious disbelief. 

Your inner turmoil is exacerbated when Kenma says to you, the day before Valentines, “despite his looks, he likes sweeter chocolate.” 

“Who?” 

Kenma just gives you a look, waving as he makes his way home. 

The following day, you show up to school, hands full with all the chocolates you made the night before. Each bag is wrapped in an individual baggie with a white ribbon except for one that is wrapped special, in a small box with red ribbon.

For Senpai, obviously. 

Your first stop of the day is your friend. You hand her a bag and she smiles, quickly opening it and popping it in her mouth right in front of you. 

“What do you think?” you ask. 

“Mmmm,” she closes her eyes, savoring the sweet treat. “So sweet. Milk chocolate? Weren’t you going on about how Senpai likes dark chocolate?” 

“I… made different batches.” you lie. You brandish the box with the red ribbon. “Senpai’s was made special.” 

“Still sticking to giving that boring Senpai chocolate, huh?” 

“He is not boring!” 

“Sure, whatever.” She peeks into your bag to look at the array of all the baggies you plan on giving out today. She looks up at the red ribbon box in your hands then back into your bag. “Just that one box? And it’s for Senpai?” 

“... yup.” 

“What was that pause?” 

“What pause?” 

She just rolls her eyes and turns back to her textbook. 

– 

“Did you hear that? It’s for the basketball guy.” Yaku elbows Kuroo’s ribs. 

“Can you stop elbowing me?” 

“That’s not important right now! She’s still going to give that guy chocolate!” 

“I know, I heard,” Kuroo hisses. 

Kai gives Kuroo a pitiful look that ticks him off. “What are you going to do?” 

“What is there to do?” Kuroo replies, keeping his eyes focused on the homework he has on his desk. “I’m going to grab a drink from the vending machines. Be right back.” 

He gets up to walk to the furthest vending machine in the courtyard. Maybe the walk and the winter air from the garden will help him cool his head. 

When he gets back with a can of tea in his hands, Kuroo sees you standing at his desk, where Kai and Yaku are still loitering around before class starts. He watches you hand each of them a bag tied tastefully with white ribbon. He lingers in the shadow of the doorway, watching Yaku and Kai thank you, then you walking back to your desk without leaving a third bag for Kuroo. 

He feels like he could use another walk right then, but the teacher catches him in the doorway and pushes Kuroo into the classroom to start class for the day. 

He makes eye contact with Kai and Yaku, who shake their heads at him, answering his unasked question. 

–

At lunch, Kuroo disappears on his own. He thinks to himself that he just needs the time to cool down, in fear that he’d embarrass himself in front of you by asking where his portion of chocolate is. He would feel bad enough if you just handed him giri-chocolate that you have everyone else. He would die, though, if you said you didn’t prepare him any at all. 

As he sits alone in the rarely frequented stairwell of the west wing of campus, he sighs. 

What does that guy have that he doesn’t anyway? Every conversation Kuroo has overheard between you two has been terribly boring. He gives dry, one-worded answers. He’s not funny nor particularly smart. He’s tall but so is Kuroo? Maybe he’s good at his sport, but Kuroo is taking his team to Nationals. He’s obviously not into you, whereas Kuroo himself? You get the picture. 

Anyway, he doesn’t think it very presumptuous to think of himself as a better match for you. The two of you joke and laugh together. You get along with his closest friends. Despite your sharp tongue, you seem to be comfortable enough around him. He reminisces of the one time you fell asleep on his shoulder on the roof. He had been wide awake and frozen solid, scared that even breathing too loudly would shatter the moment. He would never tell anyone that the photo Yaku had snapped of you drooling against his shoulder was saved in a password-protected folder in his phone. 

He sighs again, all the tension leaving his body as he lets himself feel all the feelings he’s been holding back. A heavy arm rests over his eyes, squeezing them tightly when he feels the sting behind his irises threatening to surface. 

Unable to pull himself together enough to face you in class, he ends up at the infirmary for the rest of the day, citing a headache. The nurse offers one of the beds and Kuroo gladly takes it, napping the afternoon away, a temporary escape from thoughts of you. 

The break is short-lived as he wakes up just in time for the last class of the day. Not even the prospect of his favorite subject, science, can improve his mood as he drags his feet to the lab classroom. He makes his way to Yaku and Kai’s table, not meeting your eyes. His teammates give him questioning looks but say nothing when Kuroo shakes his head and immerses himself in the lesson for the day. 

Class goes by even more quickly than normal and before he knows it, the dreaded time of day has arrived. He packs slowly, hating himself for wanting to eavesdrop on your plans for the rest of the afternoon. 

“So, what’s the plan?” he hears your friend ask you. “Volleyball or basketball?” 

“Not sure,” you reply. “Gotta go, see you tomorrow!” 

Kuroo watches as you hastily grab your things and leave the classroom. He ignores your friend’s prying eyes on him as he walks out after you. 

In the hallway, he spots you speeding away towards the shoe lockers. As he contemplates chasing after you, he hears a call of your name. 

Kuroo watches in mild horror when he finds that the voice belonged to the captain of the basketball team. His eyes stay glued to the boy who approaches you, all charming smiles and grinning snake eyes. The two of you are too far for Kuroo to hear your conversation but he can see your expression morphing into one of bashfulness. 

All his emotions spill over as the scene unfolds right in front of him in slow motion. He watches your hands dig into your pocket, making the motions to pull something out and likely hand it to your senpai. It all happens so quickly, but before he knows it, Kuroo’s grabbing your hand and dragging you away. 

Something - wind? His boiling hot jealousy? - roars in his ears, any protests you let out going right over his head. It’s only when the two of you reach the garden behind the gymnasium that he lets go. 

He freezes, back still turned away from yours.

It hits him then. He drops your hand like a hot potato, almost giving into the overwhelming urge to bury his face in his hands, crouch down so low that he’s buried in the ground. 

“Kuroo?” he hears you call tentatively. 

How was he going to get himself out of this one? 

So he does what he does best with you. 

Cower. 

He turns around, putting two hands behind his head to feign nonchalance. He forces out a laugh and in the lightest voice he could possibly muster at a time like this, he sticks his foot in this mouth. 

“You were gonna give your chocolates to that senpai, huh? You better be glad I interrupted and saved you the embarrassment of getting rejected in front of the entire student body.” 

You blink at him. “Excuse me?” 

“I mean, I really saved that guy back there. Knowing your cooking skills, you might as well have poisoned him-” 

A box thrown at his face interrupts him. He catches it before the fall to the ground, staring at the offending hand that launched the item. He then looks to you, thoughtless as your eyes begin to water. 

“They’re for you, asshole. If you don’t want ‘em so badly, go throw them away for all I care.”

As you turn around and storm off, Kuroo sees one of your hands coming up to rub angrily at your face. 

He gives chase once more today. It’s easy to catch up as he gets in front of you, face craning to look at you, to validate that he’s not going crazy and you’re really crying over him. 

You turn away stubbornly until Kuroo grabs your arms, holding them up in the air to trap you. 

“Let go!” you thrash. 

But it’s easy for Kuroo to keep them still, unusually quiet as he looks and looks until he gets his fill and confirms that he’s not dreaming. 

“They’re for me?” he asks. 

“Yes, you idiot. Do you wanna add deaf to your list of defining characteristics? It can be right up there with moronic, insensitive, stupid-” 

He chuckles; he doesn't even know where it came from, really. 

Relaxing, he lowers your arms back down but keeps his hold. “And are they the ones you made for all your friends? Or are they…” he trails off, staring into your eyes to get his meaning across. 

You cringe, neck shrinking to retract your face into your scarf. Averting your eyes, you mutter, “the second one.” 

He suddenly engulfs you in his arms. The squeeze he gives you forces a little squeal from you. 

“Oh my god,” he rubs his cheek against the top of your head like an overgrown cat. “You’re so cute, I could die.” 

Your cheeks feel hot as you repress the urge to smile. 

Instead, you mumble, “die then.” 

#noos writes #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #hq imagines #hq fluff #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #hq x y/n #hq x you #hq x reader #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n

[lua-magic]

Combination of the planets with Sun or planets aspecting  Sun and your personality.

Sun with Mercury: This is a combination of great success, name and fame as mercury being prince is now under the influence of King SUN hence, imbibe the character of the sun.

Person would love to earn respect and be careful about his Ego. He/ she earns a lot of name and fame in his life time and is a true King.

He/she loves to read, write and teaching. Love to be in spotlight and has good administrator skills.

Person would be highly skilful, great and communicator. Person would be helpful and love to be on top of game all the time.

They could have a dry sense of humour and serious attitude towards life.

Sun with Venus.  Highly seductive, lustful, and has high sexual energy.  He/she could face financial problems and problems in relationship as well. Usually, would be good in arts, crafts, music and dancing. Venus is eyes and there could be problems related to eyes as well. He/ she usually have beautiful eyes and innocent face but entirely different personality. Usually, these people have lot of hidden talents and emotions which they don’t express. They have attractive personality and attracts opposite sex easily towards them. They good in flirting, sarcasm and are quite dramatic. 😅

Sun with Mars. Great combination, gives lot bravery and fighting spirit. He/she is a good leadership quality. It is like Mars the soldier has got support of the Sun the king. Good for one who wants to join Army or police.

Confident, self respect, ego, leadership, bravery, high on energy and discipline comes naturally to the person.

Unlike Mars and Rahu( North Node) their energy is quite regulated and stable.

Sun with Jupiter: People with this combination alwys feel the presence of divine protection around them and they often get the help of divine as well in critical situation. Some kind of supernatural power always protects, support and guide them.

People with this combination are great mediators, and spiritual.

Sometimes, they could sense the energy around them and are empathetic and sensitive to energies hence, most of the time when they visit any holy place irrespective of their religion they feel connection to the superconcious immediately.

They love to follow rules and rituals of their religion and are highly disciplined if not afflicted by malefic planets.  

Sun with Saturn. People with this combination are high in masculine energy and usually hard worker. They could work for or with the government. They could share bitter and sweet relationship with their father probably frequent fights or separation from father. This combination also gives problems with colleagues and bosses.

They love to work for the masses and with the masses as well. They have good leadership qualities and believe in team work.  They work with large group of people and are usually unbiased in their approach. They love to treat everyone equally and make great employee as well as boss.

These people also could work with or for underprivileged and for the outcaste.

Sun with South Node.  Good combination for name, fame and success. Have good leadership qualities and least expectations from their bosses and from their kids as well.

They would do most of the work for their bosses and for the company without expecting anything in return.

They don’t demand or expect any position and are black sheep in their company who does all the work silently without any Ego. They are spiritual and have good understanding of Mantras and deep interest in occult and spirit realm.

They are attached to their father a lot and fathers had played major role in shaping their personality.

Sun with North Node:  People with combination would be highly fascinated with name, fame, and success. They have desire to reach on top and are lustful and aggressive. These people would be spiritual but egoic and could face problems from their bosses and also from their father. Their relationship with father or father like figures are mostly karmic, though they love their father they won’t get full support and love back from them.  They might suffer from laziness and low confidence.  They might get blamed easily and has habit of lying or stealing.

They have good interest in occult and spirit world and are great mediators.  People with this combination has unique personality, one personality that that they show and other that is always hidden from the society. People with such combination usually don’t like to follow man made rules and make their own rules. They are rebellion and detached from their family and don’t follow the footsteps of the family.

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#spirituality #occult #astro community #astrology #astro notes #astro observations

[auras-moonstone]

Hey babe! I’m sure you get lots of requests but I’ve been reading all your stuff lately(so good omg and so addicting) but I was wondering if you could do enemies to lovers. With either Jack or ethan. Whatever comes to mind. Love ya!

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.2k

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary: ethan and y/n have a rivalry going on, until one day y/n explodes and ethan decides it’s time to change the core of their relationship.

ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: academic rivalry. enemies to lovers(ish). insecurities. fighting. screaming. making up (and out). a little bit of toxicity.

y/n left the classroom practically fuming, with a smug-faced ethan trailing behind her. they had just been given their marks on their econ exam, and while y/n had passed, ethan had beaten her once again. by far.

it was exhausting. the boy was so smart, he didn’t even need to study. paying attention to class sufficed, he memorised everything and understood easily. y/n, on the other hand, wasn’t a natural. she had to stay hours on a chair trying to get the contents in her mind. and while she made an immense amount of effort, ethan always managed to come out in top of her.

she was insanely jealous of ethan. yes, maybe the few times she achieved higher marks than him she’d gloat a little bit (a lot). and yes, maybe the nonsense rivalry between them had started because of her and her bitterness but she couldn’t help but put up a fight.

some days y/n would feel bad about being the detonator of the stupid enmity, but today was definitely not one of those days.

“hey, y/n/n, it’s okay. econ is a very hard subject, not everyone understands it quite like i do.” ethan said, cockiness trying to be disguised with a very poorly-done empathetic tone.

y/n kept stomping, not even the rain could stop her from trying to get away from him.

“i could tutor you, if you’d like.” he continued, ignoring the way the fabric from her polo shirt was starting to get soaked.

“what i’d really like is if you’d leave me alone.”

“nope, this is my favorite part of feedback day. i love rubbing my high marks all over your face.” the tall boy smiled.

it was a crime that the cutest smile she’d ever seen belonged to the most insufferable man on earth. it only made her more furious. “get lost, landry.”

“we live in the same dorm building.” he laughed.

“well, take another route.”

“my god, you’re such a sore loser. i don’t say a thing when you gloat. which doesn’t get to happen very often, but still.” he rolled his eyes.

was he right? of course. was she going to admit he had a great point? no. was she going to keep unleashing her fury and jealousy? hell yes.

“yeah, well, once you get to beat mr. perfect, it’s an inevitable thing to do.”

his jaw tensed. “why are you so frustrating?” he screamed over the rain and thunders.

“why won’t you leave me alone?!” she screamed back, stopping in her tracks. “if i’m so frustrating why don’t you just stay away?” he stayed silent because he didn’t have a reason why. at least, none that he could say aloud without her running away. “huh, ethan? why do you keep sitting next to me even though the classroom is always empty when we arrive?!”

truth was, he was addicted to the rollercoaster of a relationship they both had. y/n always challenged him, made him feel alive. it wasn’t sane, it was completely intoxicating and wild and crazy, but it was his serotonin and he was addicted to it.

but this? up until today, it has been silly bragging and comebacks. this y/n seemed deranged, absolutely insane. he didn’t want her to truly hate him, because there was not a bone in ethan’s body that held any hatred towards her.

ethan admired her. he admired her perseverance, her intelligence, her witty, her humor. and even though it had never been towards him, he witnessed how kind she was to others. he wondered when it’d be his turn to have that part of y/n—the one that smiled genuinely, the one that joked, the one that laughed warmly.

it was clear the end of the stupid rivalry was in his hands because it would be an endless battle if it were for y/n, she was never going to let her armour down. he was ready for their relationship to change.

so with determined steps, ethan made his way towards her until he was so close that her chest almost touched his. “because i’m so fucking attracted to you. never thought i could feel this much about someone that hates my guts, but here i am.”

y/n’s eyes widened and searched in his face for any sign that he was messing with her. but she only found pleading brown eyes and eyebrows furrowed in anguish.

“and i’m going to kiss you right now, in risks of getting kneed in the balls, which is something you’d one hundred percent do.”

y/n might’ve laughed at that, but before she could do anything, ethan’s big hands grabbed her waist and pushed her towards him, closing the distance.

they stayed kissing in the rain for a while, not caring about the clothes sticking to their skins or the amount of water that fell down their faces. maybe their fights had been the perfect foreplay, because the kiss was unlike anything they’d experienced before. the rush that ran through their veins was intense and heart-racing.

“wow.” y/n said when they had to pull away for air. her fingers were still threading through his wet hair.

“yeah.” he agreed, letting out a laugh. “now that my kiss sort of sedated the beast within you—”

“fuck you.” she muttered, but this time there was nothing but playfulness in her tone.

“—let’s talk about what is going on inside your head, because we can’t keep on going like this.”

the walk back to her dorm was silent but the tension that always seemed to surround them was gone. their fingers were intertwined, and y/n leaned on ethan’s arm with his jacket around her shoulders.

“i’m sorry, ethan. i’m the one that started this stupidity.” y/n said as they settled on the couch.

“i never put a stop to it.” he pointed out.

“you were just playing the game i started. you never had bad intentions, but i fought with you because i resented you.”

“resented me? why? why did i do?” he asked, taken aback.

“no. nothing, not really. it’s just… i envied that you were so good at every class. i hated that i spent hours trying to make sense of what was in front of me while you understood everything so effortlessly. and the marks always hit me in the ego and insecurities.”

“and everytime i paraded my mark… i was just fuelling your anger.”

“well, yeah, but it’s not on you. it’s all me, in my head. during high school, everyone practically patted me in the head and congratulated me for my marks… and now, in college, i’m struggling like i’ve never before. it’s so horrible, i feel like a failure.”

ethan pulled her into his arms as she broke down. “you’re not a failure, y/n. college is very different from high school, and everyone struggles in their own way. no, i don’t have any problem when it comes to clases but socialising? trying to make friends? that’s where i struggle. it terrifies me.”

and now she hated herself more because it was at that moment that she realized she had been mean to someone who did not deserve it at all. “i’m so fucking sorry, ethan. you’re amazing and i’m sorry that i ever made you feel bad.”

“i’m sorry, too. i never meant it, but i still hurt you with my mocking. so let just call it even and move on, please.”

“we’re not even close to being even, but i want to move on, too. i want to get to know you. start over.” she said, brushing away the wet strands of hair that sticked to his forehead.

“but can we, maybe, please, not obviate the kiss? cause that was really fucking good and i want more of that.”

y/n laughed and hugged his neck. “that sounds perfect.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry angst #ethan landry fic #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry scream #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry smut #jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n

[farfromstrange]

Do No Harm

CHAPTER ONE: Night Shift

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt has to accompany Foggy to the ER in the middle of the night because he dislocated his shoulder. In need for some peace and quiet, Matt wanders the halls of Metro General and instead finds you crying in one of the abandoned hallways. A conversation ensues.

Warnings for this chapter: Slight angst, mention of injury.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: My brain gets the strangest ideas for fics and then I have to write them or else I will go crazy. This is how this baby was born. Keep in mind, I’m not a doctor. I simply watch a lot of medical dramas and I like to research medical terms for the fun of it. Heed the warnings for the entire series (see Series Masterlist) but also chapter-specific warnings that apply, as seen above. I hope you enjoy!

Read Chapter 1: Night Shift here on AO3

Ever since he can remember, Matt has hated hospitals. The antiseptic scent that lingers in the air, the sterile white walls that seem to close in around him—it all brings back memories of days spent in agony, tied to an uncomfortable bed, and seeing nothing but an endless void of black.

He can only tune out so much. The stench, the sirens, and the overlapping voices in an emergency room—they could easily kill him. 

Hospitals remind him of what he lost. He lost his vision, he lost his father and in the process, he lost his innocence. Matt lost everything, and even though he is well aware that it isn’t the hospital’s fault that he decided to save a man or that his father made a deal with the devil and got himself killed, he still hates the same empty walls that made him feel so small to begin with.

Matt doesn’t want to be a liability, he doesn’t want to be the reason the people he loves get hurt, and yet it continues to happen time and time again.

Maybe he’s cursed. It’s the only explanation for how things are going for him now. Maybe God has a grudge and finally decided to exercise his right to make his life a living hell. There is an infinite number of possibilities, but none of them make sense. 

He’s the anti-hero of his own story and that of everyone else who has ever dared to let him into their lives. He’s his own worst enemy, his personal saboteur. His unwavering pride has a tendency to get in the way of his happiness, which often leads to more bad than good, but admitting that would leave him vulnerable and exposed—and he can’t let himself get hurt again. 

It’s better to push the people he loves away before he can hurt them and force them to walk out on him the same way everyone else in his life has walked out on him ever since he can remember. At least in his twisted mind, that��s true. 

He never thought he would find himself in Metro General again, not since Claire came into his life. Claire, the caring nurse who saved him when he was on death’s door and continued doing so until she realized that falling for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen comes with its own set of risks. 

Foggy dislocated his shoulder. 

It’s almost laughable. Out of everyone, he chose Matt to come to the hospital with him. Not Karen, Matt. He had the choice between the most empathetic person either of them have ever met, and Matt, someone so far out of touch with his own feelings, living in denial has become the standard for him. Foggy chose the latter, for whatever reason he doesn’t even seem to know himself. It just felt like the most natural thing to do, he told Matt when he asked his best friend, “Why me?”

He should feel honored that he trusts him that much, but being trapped in the sterile four walls of the hospital he only connects bad memories to while Foggy is stuck in the queue for an X-ray feels more like torture than an honorable act. 

The loud, demanding voices of the nurses, the painful groans and soft cries coming from the patients in the waiting area of the emergency room a few doors down, and the obnoxious beeping of the machines lining the walls in every room are like a swarm of bees in Matt’s inner ear. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t get them out. He’s allergic to them.

The room smells of disinfectant, blood, and other bodily fluids. He tries to focus on his cologne and the scentless laundry detergent he has grown so accustomed to over the years, but the balm only lasts for a few seconds before the wound reopens and his senses are flooded.

Matt keeps rhythmically tapping his fingers on his thigh. How much longer he can sit on this uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology area and wait for Foggy to return, he doesn’t know. It won’t be long now until he loses his mind. He is about to drown in his own misery.

He feels the desperate urge to land his fist in the wall next to him. He wants to scream, cry, maybe even both—this night is not going well. He hasn’t had a good night in weeks. Tonight though, he’s stuck in the hospital rather than outside, doing something against the injustice he is forced to listen to every day.

The hits he took the previous night were pretty severe, and his ribs still hurt. The numb ache that tears through him whenever he moves is a temporary relief from the pain induced by the noise around him. Whatever bits of sanity he tries holding onto eventually slip through his fingers. 

Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. He gets up, his head tilting toward Foggy’s elevated heartbeat. He’s still in line. Fifth, probably.

Matt taps his cane against the floor, making his way down the hallway. He’s not quite sure where he’s going or where he will land, he just knows that he needs to get out of there as fast as possible.

Rounding the hundredth corner of the evening, the sound of clattering metal trays and medical supplies disappears behind layers of drywall and automatic doors. Matt takes a moment, and he realizes that right here—right where he is now—he can finally breathe again.

The sound travels more easily. The air wafting through the vents and over the cotton sheets on a row of empty beds is the only sound that meets his ears. They’re lined against one side of the wall. The rooms are empty, the doors locked. It seems as if in a moment of desperation, he found his way to one of the abandoned parts of the hospital. 

A lack of funding caused Metro General to cut their losses. It certainly wasn’t an easy decision, but with capitalism on the rise, public hospitals are barely holding on.

Even though the truth is depressing, Matt still can’t believe his luck when he realizes how quiet it is. That may be a selfish thought, but he can't help it. The world is always so loud and uncomfortable. Finding someplace quiet after torturing himself in the waiting room for hours feels like heaven on earth on such a busy night.

The fog dulling his senses finally dissipates. He takes a deep breath. The air is cleaner here. No disinfectant, only the faint scent of plastic and dust; he wouldn't have thought it possible that he would ever consider that combination a blessing.

That’s when he hears it—a slightly elevated heartbeat followed by a series of muffled sobs. He got so caught up in the fact that he finally found what he was looking for amidst the chaos that he forgot to fan out his hearing.

Despite what he originally believed, he isn’t alone.

The air smells of the salty essence of human tears. Matt stops dead in his tracks, not sure whether to continue his journey or to turn around and return to the uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology department.

“This nervous breakdown space is occupied,” your soft voice bounces off the high walls. It’s thick with exhaustion. Pain. Loss. He almost recoils at the all-too-familiar feeling it elicits in him.

Matt keeps his cane hugged tight to his chest, his knuckles whitening with how hard he is gripping the base. “Oh, I...I’m sorry,” he says, careful to keep his voice light. “I didn’t catch you there.”

You’re essentially a stranger to him. A troubled one, at that. You must have your share of problems or you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be crying your eyes out. He doesn’t want to intrude, but he also can’t turn around. Not now, not anymore. You’ve already noticed him.

You sniffle, your hands wiping against the soft skin of your reddened cheeks. For a moment, your heartbeat picks up in speed before returning to its normal rhythm. “It’s alright,” you assure him.

Matt picks up on the faintest hint of disinfectant and the scent of antibacterial soap on you now, maybe a little blood, and definitely antiseptic laundry detergent—you’re wearing medical scrubs.

Your shampoo smells of vanilla and some herbal element he can’t quite identify just yet. Your perfume isn’t expensive, just enough to last through a long shift and filter the sweat that is seeping out of your pores. It’s not unpleasant. You smell like someone who’s been working hard and far past your limits, too.

“Do you need something?” you ask him. 

He pauses for a moment, rethinking his answer. His lips purse. He’s not sure how to answer that without completely giving himself away.

Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Oh, just…some peace and quiet,” Matt says, finally finding his voice again. It sounds a bit more nervous than he would like to admit.

The chuckle you exhale is one of surprise and possibly even a bit of genuine amusement. “Yeah,” you sniffle, “I know that feeling.”

“Well, I’ll, uh, leave you to it. Sorry again.”

“No. Don’t.”

Matt stops in his tracks when the words pass your lips. 

You pat the space beside you. Your perfume becomes a little clearer. It’s so natural, so… you. He could get high off of it. Or maybe it’s just the sleep deprivation catching up to him. 

“This is the only quiet corner in this hospital,” you tell him. “Trust me. Underfunding has its perks for introverts. Rest in peace to about thirty internal medicine beds, but lucky me.”

Your chuckle echoes bitterly off the walls. You use humor to cope, apparently, but you’ve run out of strength to pretend.

His cane begins to gently pave the way as he makes his way forward. “Do you mind?” Matt nods toward the bed you’re sitting on. 

You pat the mattress again with a shake of your head. “Not at all.”

Gentle seems to be the one word that is consistent with everything you do. He can’t get this picture he has painted of you based on the sound of your voice out of his head. Maybe you’re an angel and he has officially gone insane, or maybe there are just a lot more good people left in this world than he originally thought. 

Matt folds his cane and skillfully sits down on the edge of the mattress. You smell even better up close. Your heartbeat reminds him of a beautiful symphony, no longer as erratic as when he first picked up on your presence. 

“I’m Matthew, by the way,” he says.

He can hear a sudden uptick in your heartbeat. He may have just imagined it. You suck in a sharp breath, and he’s sure he didn’t imagine that, but then you lift your hand to take his.

“Olivia,” you say. 

Matt listens closely. You have no reason to lie about your name. Your heartbeat may be faster, but it isn’t a lie. You just seem a lot more nervous and unsure than before. It doesn’t quite make sense why you would be unsure about your own name.

“Nice to meet you, Olivia.” His lips curl into a soft smile.

You smile back, he can hear it, but it lacks an essence of truth. You’re trying hard to seem like you’re okay. It’s not your fault that his senses are sensitive to all changes in the human body, even in that of a stranger he just met.

You’ve been crying, so of course, you wouldn’t be alright. The question is, why? 

“I take it you’re not part of the staff,” you say into the silence.  

“No.” Matt chuckles. “I, uh, have a friend with a dislocated shoulder,” he says.

“Ah! Let me guess, his doctor in the ER reduced the dislocation but insisted on doing an X-ray just in case, so now you have to wait because radiology has a hold-up longer than the Nile?”

A laugh rumbles through his chest. “Yeah, that… that’s pretty accurate.”

“It’s always like this,” you say. “A dislocated shoulder doesn’t have priority. We have bigger fish to fry.”

“You work here?” he dares to ask. 

You pull at the bottom of your scrub top. “Guilty as charged. Trauma surgery. I’ve been an attending here for a little over two years now.”

“Oh, wow! That’s…that’s incredible.”

Matt has encountered his fair share of doctors in the past, but no one has ever been quite like you. You’re unique. Mysterious. An enigma. You have piqued his curiosity, to say the least, and your profession only adds to the pile of interesting things he can ponder about.

You smile at him again, but it’s still not a genuine one. “Thanks,” you drag the last syllable out, the air deflating your lungs.

He swallows. “Or it isn’t. I didn’t mean to–”

“No, that’s not… some days just aren’t that rewarding,” you say. “That’s all.”

“And today has been one of those days?” Matt asks.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Your eyes roam over him once again.

He reaches for his hair, running his hand through it. He ruffles the brown strands until they’re covering his left temple. Matt’s not sure if you saw; there is a high chance that you did, but he can't anticipate your behavior. Not yet. 

You let out a longer breath. “Not a fan of hospitals, I take it?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “It gets… loud,” he says. 

“Sensitivity to sound.” You nod. “Noted.”

He hears the fabric of your scrubs brushing against your skin and the cotton sheets on the bed. You cross your legs, opening yourself up to him just slightly, and he wonders if you really are comfortable around him or if you’re just being kind. 

“Probably to smell as well? Feeling? Taste?” There is a soft smile laced in your voice. This time, it’s real. 

Matt chuckles. You hit the nail right on the head. You’re simply not aware of how sensitive he is to these things. “Pretty sensitive, yeah,” he says. 

That about sums it up. You nod, but you don’t push him any further. 

“Well,” you say, “The ER is pretty disgusting. And loud. And to be forced to wait in front of radiology is probably a scenario they offer as a torture device in one of the seven circles of hell.”

He can’t help himself, “It’s nine, actually.”

“Sorry?”

“Nine circles,” Matt clarifies, his lips twitching in a faint grin. “Dante’s Inferno. A good Catholic boy’s guilty pleasure.”

You let out a genuine laugh this time, and it warms his senses. It’s a rare sound in a place filled with so much pain. He can almost hear the weight from your shoulders hit the floor. The tension in the air seems to ease, if only for a moment. You allow to let yourself go. 

Your grin turns into a smirk. “Catholic, huh?” you retort. 

“Since the day I was born,” he says. “Are you religious?”

That seems to steal your breath away. You have no words. For a full minute, silence settles in between the two of you. It’s almost uncomfortable, and Matt fears he must have crossed a line. He just doesn’t know how to apologize for something he is truly curious about. 

The topic of God and religion seems to hit a nerve when it’s not used in a humorous context. There are many reasons why that could be. He spends every day battling his own religious trauma and the demons that he feels he’s harboring deep inside, but he still holds on tight to his faith. If he doesn’t have an excuse—if he doesn’t have anything to hold onto other than what broken self-respect he has left—where would he be?

You finally clear your throat after what feels like an eternity. “No,” it’s a simple answer. “I don’t believe that there is a God.”

Your mouth stays open. You want to say something else, but your lips close within seconds after the thought has passed by you, and you swallow it. He wonders what he could have learned about you if you had allowed yourself to say what you were truly thinking when the words first left your mouth. You’re holding back, and it is audible. It might even be visible. Your cheeks are running hot. 

Matt nods. He doesn’t question you. Your beliefs are yours. Most of the time, he doesn’t even believe that there is a God himself. 

“It’s hard to keep the faith in this world, especially when you work so hard every day trying to save people’s lives. When you are forced to see what the system does to those who can’t defend themselves over and over again, but you can’t do anything about it. Or when you see what people do to each other. I mean, the cruelty of human beings is unmatched, and it makes you wonder if God is just a sadist, or if maybe he isn’t even real because a gracious God wouldn’t let innocent children die,” you cut yourself off in an instant, and he tilts his head toward you in surprise. 

Your breath shudders. “I… I’ve seen too much bad to believe that there is an all-merciful God,” you say. “So I simply don’t.”

You try to meet his eyes, but all you see is your reflection in the red of his rounded glasses. Your heart breaks a little, he can hear it. Your shoulders slump. You’re defeated.

He isn’t sure how to react to that. How to help. How to be a decent human being. Matt just doesn’t have the answers you need, and it makes him question his own faith for a minute. Not that he has ever not questioned it; his relationship with God is as complicated as it gets.

You catch yourself after a moment of staring into the void of his glasses. “But… that’s my opinion. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended,” Matt says.

You were smiling, and now you’re not anymore. He doesn’t like that. He liked it more when you were more open with him. Your legs have moved back to your chest, your arms clinging to them. You’ve retreated. 

“Sorry,” you whisper. The edge in your voice breaks his heart. 

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I get it. Injustice…it’s a parasite. I’ve encountered my fair share of good people who deserved better than what they got. You try and you fail over and over again because the world isn't fair. I’d be the last person to judge you for not sharing my beliefs.” He breaks off in a chuckle. “I'm not that kind of guy.”

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. “What is that you do again?” You didn’t ask that question before.

“I’m a lawyer,” he states. “Defense attorney.”

“Wow,” you let out a soft puff of air, “And you chose to go to Metro General instead of jumping on the big money train to the Upper East Side?” 

Although your tone is joking, Matt can tell that there is an ounce of truth in your words.  

He hides his laugh behind a cough. He’s not sure if he’s surprised or if he actually finds that assumption hilarious. Maybe a bit of both.

“Oh, no.” He shakes his head. “I have never even been in the same station as the big money train.”

“Oh?”

“No. We, my partner and I, do pro-bono work. We don't get paid for our services. Well, other than baked goods and overdue bills in the mail, of course.”

You chuckle. “That’s a relief. Not so much for your bank account, but ethically.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry for assuming. That was prejudiced of me,” you say. “I’m not trying to judge you. I’m sorry. Rich or not, it’s none of my business.”

Matt shrugs. “It's okay. Lawyers and doctors are the two professions so many think make millions of Dollars a year, and while that may be the case for a few, a lot of us just… don’t,” he says.

“Amen! If I had a drink, I’d toast to that.”

“Yeah, well, an intoxicated doctor would not fare well in the legal sense.”

“You think that would end my career?”

“I can’t even give you good legal advice other than, don’t.”

Your giggle turns into a laugh. “Thank you for the advice, counselor.”

He joins in. “Anytime.” 

For a moment, only the two of you exist. Matt adjusts his position, but he doesn’t take his bruised ribs into account. His wince is barely audible, yet you notice it in an instant. And when his hair slips, you can see the gash on his forehead. The one he tried to stitch up himself but probably did an awful job at concealing. 

Your eyes narrow in concern. “What happened to you?” your voice barely breeches the sound barrier. 

“Oh, nothing,” he tries to shrug it off. “Just an accident.”

“An accident?”

“I am blind, you know. I tripped, hit my head. It happens.”

“Hm.” Much to his surprise, you don’t press him further. Instead, you gently reach out to brush the sweaty strand of hair from his face that he used to cover up the aftermath of his latest endeavor. 

Now that he thinks about it, his ribs really do hurt. He’s sure nothing is broken, but they are severely bruised. Even he can feel the blood pooling under the skin. 

You bite your lip, not wanting to pry. The urge is obvious to him, but only to him. You’re good at your job. You focus on the task at hand. That is probably why you became a doctor in the first place; to help people, not to pry. 

But Matt Murdock doesn’t need help. 

“It’s fine,” he assures you. 

You nod. “I believe you.”

You don’t. You’re lying. He appreciates the effort though. You try your best at making him feel comfortable and welcome. Asking questions would only drive him away; you wouldn’t be able to satiate your pathological need to help. It’s who you are.

“Whoever patched this up did a terrible job,” you say, “and I don’t want to know who did it because if you tell me it was you, I will lose my mind, so, I choose to believe you for the sake of my own sanity.”

His lips part in a soft laugh. “Yeah, you don't wanna know,” he says.

“Can I fix it?"

He opens his mouth to decline, “You don’t have to, I–”

“Please.” 

There is no arguing with you, it seems.

Your footsteps echo in the empty hallway. One of the drawers in the cart across from the bed slides open at your touch. Matt can hear the distinct crinkle of packaging and the clanking of metal. When you return to his side, your steps are a little heavier. 

“I’m going to clean the wound and then apply a butterfly bandage to help the skin grow back together,” you explain. “The cut isn't that deep, but you must’ve hit your head pretty hard when you fell. I can’t force you to get a head CT, so… If you experience any nausea or neurological deficits in the next few days, you should come back to run some tests. But—and that is not my expert medical opinion because I don’t have the tests to back it up—I think it should be fine to heal on its own.”

“Any other advice, Doc?” he jokes. 

“Well, I can’t give the same good news about your bruised ribs.” You only have to place your hand on his side and his lips come to press tightly together. “I’m guessing third and fourth,” you say. “If one of them is fractured, it makes you run at risk for internal bleeding, but to see the extent of your injuries, we’d have to get an MRI. That is not my call to make. I can’t force you to get your battle scars checked out, I can just advise you to think about it. Really think about it.”

Matt sighs. His laughter has long died. “I know.”

He doesn’t want to repeat himself. He’s fine. He has to pretend that he’s fine because he doesn’t have time for doctors or questions. Neither you nor the law can protect him from the damage that the truth would do. 

You’re disappointed, but you swallow your pride. With delicate precision, you start cleaning the wound on his forehead, the cotton swab dabbing at the dried blood. He winces at the sting of antiseptic, a subtle twitch in response to the pain.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Matt manages a half-smile. “It’s alright. I’ve had worse.”

That doesn’t make you feel better, but you accept it. You’ve learned to respect your patients’ wishes, even if that means swallowing a lie. 

As you work, your fingers graze over his skin with a careful tenderness. It’s a stark contrast to the harshness of the world he navigates outside—a double-edged sword. If he doesn’t go out there, more people die or get hurt. He would sustain the same injuries over and over again and almost die rather than pretend that evil isn’t lurking right outside his window every night. And there is a bigger storm brewing in the distance, one he isn’t fully prepared for. 

Yet.

You finish cleaning the wound and proceed to carefully apply a fresh bandage. Matt can feel the cool adhesive against his skin. Your touch is soothing, almost comforting, and he allows himself to relax.

“There,” you announce softly. “All patched up.”

Matt lifts his hand to touch the bandage, a habit he developed over the years to reassure himself that someone cared enough to tend to his wounds. “Thank you,” he answers. 

“No biggie.” You shrug with a tiny smile, and that makes him smile, too. It shows him that while you are displeased with his lack of respect for himself and his health, you aren’t mad at him. You just care.

The shrill beeping of your pager tears a headache through his skull.

You curse under your breath. “I’m so sorry,” you say as you skim over the text that has been sent to you. “The, uh—the ER needs me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he quickly responds. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go. Save a life!”

You’re reluctant at first, but then your lips curl into a broader, more genuine smile, and in the heat of the moment, you grab his hand. “It was nice meeting you, Matthew,” you say. “Take care of yourself.” 

Your footsteps retreat and your heartbeat gets fainter as you walk down the hallway. He’s speechless. He doesn’t even remember how to say goodbye. 

“Oh, and do me a favor?” You stop momentarily just to ask him, “Get those ribs checked out?”

His mouth opens and closes like that of a fish on dry land. “Sure,” he says. 

“Thank you,” these are your last words to him before you take off running. 

Both of you know though that once he is out of Metro General and on his way home, he won’t come back. Not for himself, at least. And it is something you have to accept as much as he has to accept the fact that you are long gone, off to save a life in the very four walls that seemed so scary to him all alone only fifteen minutes ago.

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @littlehappyperson @danzer8705

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #doctor!reader #medical drama #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock imagines #charlie cox #do no harm

[cringequeenwrites]

Girl Creepypastas x Fem! S/O•*o•*o

A Drabble/headcanons of how each of the girls would treat you as your S/O. Mainly fluff with light smut implied.

Jane the killer

-Jane is very prone to showing her affection through actions rather than words. She’s very over protective of you, mainly because she works with homicidal maniacs on the regular, but more so she wants you to feel safe. Jane won’t admit her possessive tendencies up front but you can tell from the way she’s must have a hand on your waist or her arm draped over your shoulder whenever she sees you talk to someone.

-she needs verbal reassurance from you, does she want it? Questionable.

-Her always being on the defense around everyone is tiring, but she thinks once she puts her guard down she’d then be perceived as weak. You are the only person she lowers her walls too, it’s almost euphoric for Jane to just feel your presence. Knowing your her safety.

-on a more toxic note she’ll not want you talk to certain people that she works with. You can guess who those people or person is a mile away but you reassure that you won’t engage.

-easily jealous. Not the kind of jealousy that you can see at first, but she’ll easily let you now you too get back to your bedroom.

Clock work

-like Jane she’s not verbal about her affection. Shows her love through actions in public, but in private she shows her more vulnerable side to you.

-she’s very much the ‘the asshole to everyone except you’ trope.

-she goes into very self destructive episodes before she met you, but now that she has someone to hold onto and ground her, she’s had less of them. But that doesn’t mean they immediately stop, sometimes you have to talk her through a breakdown or hold her through her episodes.

- Natalie spaces out when you two cuddle, her hands tend to wonder, ending up playing with your hair and she thinks quietly to herself.

- She’s not very affectionate in public though, the most she’ll let you get away with is holding her pinky. She sees pda as displaying you as a target for others and is also embarrassed by it.

- She’s not much for sparing others feelings. Hell if anything she’s apathetic to most, but you see a glimps of her where she’s more empathetic and sweet. Don’t tell her though she’s gonna keep up the mean persona for a week.

Nina the killer

-Nina is very verbal about her affectionate towards you and is not afraid to show it.

-her personality is almost a breather from the dark and serious people. Key word almost.

-her affections are not even borderline, but just obsessive. The very definition of idolization.

-she’s very big on pda and will show her love in anyway she can. She once stabbed some guy to death when he cat called you, then through what was left of him in a trash bag and fed it to pigs.

-her emotions are very extreme. She can go one to a hundred on a flip of a dime. Her way of protecting you is like a person sized clinically insane chihuahua.

-Nina gets easily jealous if you talk or show anything that breathes affection. You were once walking through the woods with her on a date when a bird landed on a branch right by you and started chirping and whistling at you.

She killed that bird.

-you have to play her moral ground and her voice of reason on the regular so she dosent end up slaughtering everyone you talk to. Sometimes you find it hot when she butchers gross men for you, but the bird thing was too much.

-you both will equally share the moral biases of two middle school children.

All three (poly)

-Now you can safely walk around at night with your three serial killer gfs.

-the fight for your attention is constant, its come to the point we’re they’ve scheduled who gets to have you on certain days. Then None of them followed that schedule.

-but you love all three equally and they all love you

-the only time they seem to work together is in bed, Which says a lot about all of you.

#creepypasta #nina the killer #clockwork #jane the killer #nina the killer x reader #jane the killer x reader #clockwork x reader #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta headcanon #Creepypasta fluff

[plottwiststudios]

Furina Deserved More Empathy

Most of you are here because you dig my writing for "Women of Xal", but please bear with me on this: Furina is a worthy character to study, respect, and love. To me, she is Genshin Impact's best character, and certainly my favorite from the game.

But although her characterization was top tier, the characters and writing around Furina were just... so ugly to her in a few areas that I believe are worth talking about. Even if you think the Fontaine arc was perfect and beyond reproach with how Furina was handled at the end, please at least hear me out. I promise I do come with not only my empathetic insight, but a writer's with a keen eye for the unfair, as well. Everyone, strap in and click that spoiler line for more~

"But Furina is only human, isn't she? Even though she has had a long life, her mind is no stronger than that of any other ordinary human being. I cannot begin to fathom what she has had to endure. It must have been torture for her." - Neuvillette

This quote comes immediately after Neuvillette realizes that his partner in crime, Furina, has been playing a role of a god far outside of her true personality every (perceived) second of every day for 500 years without end. Fooling the world, and keeping the secret that she was a mere human was crucial. If she didn't, her nation would have met oblivion via drowning, according to an increasingly real prophecy. If you don't know the story/why, it's complicated, here's the cutscene. Collaborating with her divine 'half', she commits to this agonizingly long performance willingly by weighing her own happiness with the lives of the people. And does that take a toll on her?

Yes! It got bad enough to where she started crying without realizing she was -- in front of a citizen she of course had to deceive. She had to use her vast experience to play it off, and, well, you see how easily that citizen bought it, and you can see how Furina is handling that situation, even if you're not used to Genshin's models. What I'm trying to get at here is, Furina carried Fontaine's salvation on her back for 500 years. In complete secret and isolation. And as we are playing a video game, we naturally see to the finale of her 500 year performance...

By putting her on trial as a fraud god!

Now, although I felt grimy from the jump about the whole "Trick Furina into her own public trial", the plan itself is legitimately justified from the player / accusing party. She played her role too well, and now her own nation and allies think she's not taking the threat of her nation seriously. (The threat? Ironically the flooding she's trying to prevent) Her peers do know she's hiding something. So in a desperate gambit to get her to talk and hopefully give them something to stop the incoming flood, they trick her into arriving at her own trial. And, I believe my necessity, she is given more trauma for her troubles before this trial ends. You can watch it all here.

Even for players who didn't figure out Furina's big secret, this trial was BRUTAL to watch, and the fact the player character initiated it by trying promising Furina that her secret can be safe with the player -- WHILE the player was actively and secretly transporting Furina to her trial is just... cutthroat. Necessary given the lack of context (mostly), but cutthroat. I'm glad Furina considered her options with entrusting the player, but ultimately would have decided not to. Because we didn't deserve Furina's trust.

Long miserable story short? Furina is judged guilty and sentenced to death, but she doesn't care, because to her, she spent 500 years, only to think she "failed" and now everyone will drown and die. So she's left essentially dissociating with only tears to show consciousness. Longer story short? She didn't fail! Her trial was all part of the plan her divine half cooked up without telling her about the trial! To save the nation. (Prophecies, am I right?) And the nation is saved! All because Furina kept up the act for 500 years -- well past her emotional breaking point. Like, well, well, well past her breaking point.

Most importantly: Furina is free to be a regular human that no longer has to perform. She no longer has to rule as a god. So what's the first thing she hears from us? (Link for the conversation)

tldr: "We sure Kathryn gave us the right address we obtained without permission? Wow, Furina's living situation got a whole lot worse different after she stepped down from ruler."

If you're wondering if I skipped a few cutscenes covering how Furina got there and how she's doing, don't worry! Same here: After the story's climax, Neuvillette tells us that Furina steps down and numbly packed her bags and hecked off for peace and quiet. Did we ever VISIT this woman after asking her to trust us before destroying that request for trust? Did ANYONE besides Neuvillette give her an apology, or go out of their way to check in on her besides Clorinde? Am I supposed to assume that the same writers who keep doing insensitive things, has a staggering fear of dark skin, and seldom have enough courage to trust the audience, are expecting us to fill in the gaps of time with the most positive outcome that Furina was apologized to and supported off-screen? And hey, if you're on team "We had no choice, given the circumstance; no apologies needed", then look at it like a human, not (just) an apologist! If YOU underwent 500 years of never being you, but an exaggerated trope for the world, and at the end, that world temporarily rejects you in public, cutthroat fashion, is this how you would like to be treated?

An organization gave out your address to help the player

The player only visits you to help NPCs

Pressure you to perform yet again, this time for fun!!!

Express how your boundaries for no-acting actively hurt the NPCs

No noted thanks or conversation about your sacrifices

The writer to your life railroads you into feeling bad for boundaries

Someone dryly states, for her own reasons, that you were inactive

Made fun of for your lifestyle decisions post-freedom from acting

The writer of your life railroads you into singing for the NPCs

Some more I am probably going to regret not remembering

Even people who haven't played the game, but read this will note that something went amiss. One or two of these bullet points can be seen as fine or not-horrible when isolated, but literally all of this happened to Furina. Even if you want to say that all of these are properly addressed offscreen and not mentioned in the game, then what about the writer's desire to resonate with the audience?

To the writers of this game who obviously do not take words to heart: We resonate with Furina just fine. She's a beautifully written character and I have nothing but the fiercest of respect for her. But we don't resonate with how she was treated after her 500 years of torture ended. Not by the characters or writers. As writers, how did you WANT us to react to these insensitive scenes? Why? Did you think the lines of dialogue through from a humane angle, or were you stuck in the immediate present of writing a "funny"? Did you think about the cost of not letting the most tortured character in the country have any scenes after her trial until we're looking for her to help people we've never met before? Was the tonal whiplash wise in your eyes? Could you find no better way to get Furina comfortable to sing and get her vision? Why do I get the feeling that even an author with no experience might have known better than to do some of the things you decided to do to Furina? As writers, do you think everything I've stated is what she deserves, or even the natural course of events for a character as important and as good as Furina? Is that the extent of your writing prowess and creativity?

This is a story about a nation of justice. So where's Furina's justice?

#Genshin Impact #Furina #Fontaine #4.2 #neuvillette #At least her fellow Archons properly showed her the respect she deserves

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

How Cod Men Handle Harassment Headcanons

Requested: No

Warnings: Talk of harassment and general creepy behavior

A/N: No Soap this time because…..I’m tired and didn’t feel like it and wanted to get something out today

Ghost

Considering Ghost’s parents, his father definitely wasn’t someone who cared to help others, so if Ghost learned absolutely anything about how to help others in trouble, it was from his Mother. But it still wasn’t much at all, since she never really took the time to actually sit down and explain these things with him. So most of what he learned was on the go.

Ghost is very observant of his surroundings, and easily picks up on others’ discomfort and why they are uncomfortable. That being said, he’s not very observant to signals like an unspoken “help me”, things like someone running up to him and immediately being friendly in a “please, pretend to be my friend cause I’m being followed” usually go right over his head for like a solid minute. Not that he gets many of those, considering not just his intimidating physical appearance, but also the offputting aura he gives off at all times.

That being said, Ghost doesn’t hesitate to step in and get between people in these situations, silent as the grave as he sits beside a woman who is being harassed by someone, his mere presence enough to drive the vultures away. Or how he’ll loom over someone who looks like they’re about to hit their spouse, his own personal experiences with that type of abuse making him easy to rile up when he sees it happening.

König

König grew up with parents that were….not very empathetic, to say the least. In their minds, it was everybody for themselves, and if something were to go on right in front of their very eyes, they’d pretend they couldn’t see it. He recalls a few times when he was young when there was a person or two in quite visible distress, practically begging for help, only to be ignored. Instances such as those are part of what shaped König into the defender he is today. Someone who does not care how dangerous the situation may seem, as he’ll always be willing to lend a hand.

However his social awkwardness makes it very hard to pick up on any signs of distress from others, especially since he’s too focused on keeping himself calm in situations where he feels overwhelmed, like being surrounded by so many people on the street or in a subway car. If he does notice something, he’s quick to intervene but he’s doubting himself the whole time, wondering if this was all some big misunderstanding, which leads to him talking softly, almost inaudible. Which usually leads to the harasser believing that, despite König’s sheer size and mass, he’s an easy target and will back down.

He will not. If anything, this almost acts as confirmation that König is right, and suddenly all hesitance is gone and he’s dragging the assailant away, firm but not rough as he scolds the person. Almost like they’re a toddler. But if they persist in their attempts to hurt him than König will be forced to strike back, which will end uhhhhhh not very well for them.

Alejandro

Alejandro grew up with parents that very heavily tried to drill into him the importance of minding your own business, but to say that their words did little to deter him would be an understatement.

Alejandro is CONSTANTLY on the lookout for suspicious behavior, partly because of his military background and partly just because he can’t stand creeps. If he sees someone bothering anyone else, he might wait for a few moments just to determine whether it’s something he should stick his nose into or if it’s better left alone (ex: a simple lover’s quarrel), but if someone looks really uncomfortable or the other party is becoming rather forward in some way, he’s already up in their face. He wants to de-escalate the situation but he’s never very good at it so it usually just leads to fists flying.

Alejandro is ALWAYS the type to volunteer to pretend to be a boyfriend or father, friend, cousin, whatever anyone needs him to be if someone were to run up to him and ask for help. Or even if they didn’t ask for help and just ran up to him and started pretending, he immediately rolls with it. He’s also very adept at picking up on the silent pleads and warnings that most afab people use.

#cod #call of duty #mwii #mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #call of duty mwii #Simon riley #Simon ghost riley #König #Alejandro Vargas

[smoke-and-silver]

A Little Support

I have a prior headcanon that the elite demons in Obey Me are only biased towards humans because they're out-of-touch aristocrats, and a lot of demons are actually fine with other species. I can't help but think about all the little bits of solidarity and kindness MC must have found amidst all the mistreatment and violence.

An empathetic demon who raises his voice to tell another demon to screw off when they talk down to MC in public.

A succubus pretends to know MC on the sidewalk because she saw another demon following them. She gets it. Demon guys follow her down the street sometimes.

The cashier at a convenience store who, on MC's first night in the Devildom, asks them questions about the human world, gives them a soda free of charge, and wishes them luck.

A lesser demon with a stuttering voice stands up to Mephisto, knowing the nobleman could easily ruin him, because he's been mistreated by higher demons all his life, too.

The Human Appreciation Club at RAD hosts human movie nights in the projector room. It's an unexpected and welcome respite.

A ton of witches feel kinship with other humans and openly welcome MC, assisting them with basic knowledge of potions, gifting them protective charms, introducing them to witch society, insisting that they "have to stick together down here!"

A demon in class snidely comments that a human must "struggle with all this magical knowledge". Another demon speaks up to say that most magical knowledge comes from human women, witches, and sorcerers.

A burly guy with spiraled horns growls at another demon being predatory towards MC at a bar. The other demon leaves and the burly dude returns to his drink without a word. Nothing eventful happens.

The host of a late night show makes an unfriendly joke about the human exchange students. A demoness in the crowd boos him loudly and is removed by security when she refuses to stop jeering.

A certain shop is known to be unwelcoming towards angels and humans. MC is surprised when they see posts about the shop being boycotted by empathetic demons.

MC sees in passing a group of demons assisting an injured witch. She sits on the sidewalk with her face in her hands after an attempted attack. The surrounding demons are calling her friends and waiting with her until they arrive.

A lot of "confused but he got the spirit" demons attempting to make MC happy and comfortable in misled ways. A trio of frat dudes bring MC a tupper of mac and cheese one evening because "humans like this stuff, right?".

MC's induction into the council brings some backlash, but also a wave of support and a ton of flowers being sent to the House of Lamentation. MC is touched and their reaction makes Lucifer too happy to complain about the living room being full of flowers.

#obey me #omswd #obey me shall we date

[evanox]

If you joined the fandom some time after Anisa's rewrite like I did, and you've yet to come across (formerly) Nix Hydra's official youtube channel, I cannot recommend enough that you go and watch the playthrough of Anisa's first two chapters. GOD they're just SO delightful; especially if you're interested in Astraea's worldbuilding (or at least a taste of it).

The little details such as the occasional line pointing to Mournfall folk making their living through fishing, or how it's common for mischievous kids to go to the abandoned temple to mess around with magic, or how there are wards implemented by the city during the war 5 years ago to detect and prevent magical disturbances---all of that contributes to breathing so much life into our setting, rather than it just serving the simple purpose of being A Place Where Things Happen.

Not only that, but Anisa's personality shines SO much brighter in this older version. She already surprised me in the old prologue when she pounced at Sage for a hug in the tavern. I know she gives him the cold shoulder in our current version because of the whole betrayal thing, but angst aside, I still couldn't imagine our stiff and uptight Anisa offering either of her friends physical affection (she's just so exasperated with them all the time that it's hard to believe they were friends at any point), so that moment in the older prologue was very endearing to me.

(Also the banter between the three Starsworn is chef's kiss in the older version.)

Anisa pointing out how MC deserves the right to choose a mentor since they had no choice in their predicament is consistent across both prologues, but in the first (old) chapter Anisa chides Felix for not being considerate of the Mournfall townspeople who already suffered enough during the war, and it really drives in the point of how thoughtful and empathetic Anisa is. It also contributes to my point about how the little details in this version breathe life into Astraea---the impact of the war on its citizens is acknowledged; it's not just an event that drives the plot/drives the protagonists' angst.

On top of that, Anisa is very passionate about her job, a total workaholic, and a very curious cat; so much so that she was willing to go investigate the city wards despite being on vacation. For as straightlaced as she may be, she's not above a little mischief, grinning at you when you point out she's going against the orders of her Captain. All of these traits immediately endeared her to me, and they're kind of lost/diminished in the rewrite when her primary motivation for her workaholic tendencies becomes "I need to prove I'm good and pure to distance myself from my evil father's shadow."

Also, Saaros is introduced halfway through chapter 2 so it gives Anisa the chance to breathe and establish herself as a character before she has to share the spotlight w/ a masc-presenting character who'll steal most of the fandom's attention, as is every fictif female LI's curse. Additionally, the elf's introduction is more impactful than that in the rewritten chapter. In the latter, they're first seen complaining about lotions (which establishes that Saaros is someone really picky about their beauty routine), whereas in the old chapter, Saaros is taunting a vendor peddling "spiritual-cleansing" potions (the Astraean equivalent of essential oils only this one's effects are even more dubious). They spill the bottle of potion onto the ground and turn their nose up at Anisa when she asserts her position as a knight, deliver a speech about how Porrimans pretend like they play by the rules while letting charlatans run loose, and then march off. This establishes that Saaros is not someone you can easily fool, and Saaros does not think highly of Porrima or its authority and is not afraid to state their opinion about either. That hints at just how difficult Anisa's spy mission will be, and only at the end of the chapter do we find out this bold elf is Anisa's spy target, assigned to her by Archmage Escell himself.

Now, I'm not saying that Anisa being rewritten to be the LOS daughter is necessarily bad, but God what would I give just to see Dev's vision for Anisa before Lulu came along because it seems SO interesting. Perhaps not as intense as having the main villain as your dad (tbh they kinda ruined it by revealing it from like... the first or second chapter, but that's neither here nor there), but given that Sage and Felix's routes are already packed with angst and secrecy, Anisa's would come as a fresh breath of air---while you have to play therapist for the two male LIs to help them unpack all that baggage, you get to be on equal footing with Anisa and play detectives/spies with her.

It's got the same vibe as what the Arcana team was going for with Portia, only this one's done SO much better. I could never quite put my finger on why I just wasn't feeling Portia's route, but I guess that might have to do with how disconnected she is from everything established by the other routes. Asra, Julian, and Nadia are former friends who plotted together to take down the self-absorbed and useless Count Lucio, and Muriel is Asra's friend whose life was entirely jeopardized by Lucio's tribe first and then Lucio himself second. Portia is Julian's sister who arrived in Vesuvia not too long ago and she's not really friends with any of these characters (besides maybe the romance she gets with Nadia in Julian's route), nor is she really affected by Lucio so the route gives her an entirely different villain to defeat. In a way, it has become its own story without space to grow as a story should because of the chapter limit. The other routes get away with the chapter limitation because they all complement each other--telling the same story from different perspectives.

That's not really the cause for Anisa because she is at the heart of the conflict as one of the three last surviving Starsworn, suffered in the war as they did and is very empathetic towards the people affected by it. Her lower social status makes it harder for her to climb up the ranks until Escell himself offers to sponsor her if she'll spy on Saaros for him. So, even without the LOS relationship, Anisa is very well-entangled in the plot to make her route relevant and engaging.

It's a shame there are only 2 chapters out and you can only see the choices that the person recording chose, but also it seems like this was recorded at a time when the chapter wasn't even completed because honey what is THIS

#last legacy #fictif last legacy #anisa anka #last legacy anisa #last legacy saaros

[dysfunctional-doodle]

Just watched Mutant Mayhem, here are my thoughts!

Overall: Yes, very good I suggest everyone watch it when they can or I will break your knees :)

I’m going to end up rambling far too much unless I split this properly, so I’m going to break it down into sections starting from what I believe is most important in a movie.

This post is still going to be a mess ngl

Story: 8/10

The story is actually very good! It was paced very well and ended in a very touching way. No character interactions or plot beats felt forced or cliché, and no forced identity politics which is always a plus.

The action scenes - of course they were amazing. Paired with the stellar animation, each action scene was brilliantly directed and choreographed. The start shows the turtles’ origin story is similar to most of the iterations with its own unique factors - in this case the ooze was created by Baxter Stockman.

The conflict of the plot was well written, the final act was great and ends with a hopeful and satisfying ending (there is a mid credit scene that teases something big for the series though!).

If it’s any consolation, it’s also very friendly to new fans of TMNT - I went with someone who has not seen any TMNT media before and they really liked it and understood it easily.

Characters: 9/10

Needless to say, all the characters were very well done. Despite its run time and large cast, each one feels grounded with their own unique personality.

For starters: the four main boys! They were done brilliantly - Mikey being hopeful and optimistic whilst naturally being empathetic, Raph channeling chaotic good energy with his iconic rage personality not being over the top, Donnie being a geek in the best way possible, and Leo trying to be a good leader and anxious, always looking out for his brothers but not a complete teachers pet. All very likeable, and I can’t wait to see them in the series!

Splinter: probably the best since 2003! Openly caring of his sons and worries a great deal about how humans will perceive them. Has his own trauma from his experience with humans so he tries to protect his sons by isolating them completely, but eventually realises that his own view of humans should not affect his son’s happiness and lets them fulfil their dream of trying to be accepted by humans even if he will never like humanity himself. Peak character development, 10/10.

Villain/s: all of them felt fleshed out and I look forward to seeing them in the series! Posed their own genuine threats with varying levels of morals. Again, all were fleshed out quite well and played a role in the story.

April: honestly, she didn’t have too much in it compared to the others but does play a key role in the final act and the ending itself. An interesting iteration of April, curious to see more of her.

Animation: 10000000/10

It was brilliant. What else can I say? Though inspired by Spider-verse it is its own style which is amazing to look at. It thrives in action scenes and landscapes. Another groundbreaking style that I hope to see influence others.

Music: 8/10

It slaps. Almost all of them I will be playing for the next week or so. The soundtracks really set the mood beautifully, especially the sombre track. Paired with the animation - ugh - chefs kiss

Overall Rating: 8/10

I am usually very very harsh with films, so for me to rate anything above a seven is basically unheard of. Probably my favourite movie of 2023, and my favourite TMNT movie. 2003 only just beats it overall but that’s mostly because I’ve known it for longer - who knows, a few more rewatches and it might overtake.

#tmnt #tmnt mutant mayhem #mutant mayhem #tmnt mikey #tmnt donnie #tmnt raph #tmnt leo #tmnt 2023 #thoughts #tmnt mm #totally not me rambling about it no sir #please go watch it though #tmnt movie #tmnt splinter #asks are open for this because like apparently people have a lot of questions #spoiler free #if you want spoilers bother me in dms #i liked it a lot: the end #tmnt fandom #look at these messy tags yum

[aleksanderscult]

A follow up to my other question; if we had a sun summoner (basically an entirely different person than Alina) that really was the strong-willed person who wanted to stand by his side and take part in his fight for the Grisha, what do you think he would have wanted that to look like? (And i mean beyond the fold-plot part of the show because we know the plot of s&b and how she messed everything up.) Do you think he would’ve ever allowed the sun summoner to act as a soldier as he had? I think I have a hard time imagining an Aleksander that would allow the sun summoner to go out and be in any possible danger without him present which sounds incredibly limiting to what they’d actually be able to do. I can’t imagine them being allowed to make very many political moves if he got his ruler/queen without his say so and approval, (especially not alina because every political move or even thought she had was actively stupid or the opposite of helpful) so I struggled to understand what he would’ve wanted and expected from them post-expanding the fold. Would a sun summoner with military experience or political experience like himself be able to ever convince him to let them go on military missions by themselves without him? I’m basically trying to understand what we could’ve had he would’ve been like. What would he actually be like if he had gotten the strong-willed, empathetic, political savvy with a functioning brain kind of sun summoner and what Aleksander wanted…and deserved. So much of the character we saw with Aleksander was who he had to be when dealing with someone like Alina, who just couldn’t think for herself, didn’t want to, had no political understanding on the most basic of levels, and didn’t have a spine for practically anything. This isn’t an anti-alina ask, i’m just wondering what type of Aleksander we could’ve gotten with the type of person i described above and what he would’ve wanted from them and allowed them to do. I’m really curious as to what he could’ve been like and truthfully what he had in mind because I struggle to picture what he actually wanted or what he would’ve done had he gotten the type of summoner he deserved

Okay, let's pretend that he got the Sun Summoner that he truly wanted and dreamed of (as you said).

First of all, he would take his time to figure her out. Her views and opinion about him and the Grisha persecution (just like he did with Alina in S&B). Let's say that she passed the test here. Let's say that he found her logical, strong, determined and fierce.

The next stop would be for Aleksander to trust her. He doesn't trust someone easily and he would have to make sure that this girl is worthy of his own thoughts and plans. That would take some time and it would depend on how trustworthy and honest that Sun Summoner would be. Let's say that in time she passed this test too.

The next problem we have is that Aleksander is a controlling person. He wants to have the upper hand on things like ruling, taking military decisions etc. In the beginning, I imagine her taking her with him wherever he would go. Both because he would want to keep her close and out of his desire to teach her things. Like "Look how I'm handling things. Look what needs to be done. Observe and learn". Because I kinda doubt he would ever find a Sun Summoner all ready and knowledgeable about matters of the state like he is.

That's why trust is important for him. Because he would have to make sure that she can be counted on for important things and she wouldn't turn against him or usurp him.

I don't believe that in the beginning he would let her take full control of the kingdom or even an equal stand with him, but! If he saw her ready to fight and take part in wars he would take her with him in the battlefield and, in time after seeing her getting stronger and stronger, he would let her go by herself. Like "We've got a situation on the northern borders. Take one hundred men with you, finish them off and come back." And that's because it would be impossible for him to be everywhere at once. He couldn't be both in the battlefield with the Sun Summoner AND stay on the throne and deal with other, ruling matters. Sooner or later they would have to split and he would be forced to let her go and let her do something by herself. It's inevitable and Aleksander would know that. Sometimes they would need to share the responsibilities. Sometimes Aleksander would have to go to Fjerda to deal with some drüskelle while his Sun Summoner would have to stay in Os Alta because an important meeting with some Kerch ambassadors must take place and other things like that.

Now, about the ruling matter. Yes, he would make her his Queen but for how much liberty and freedom he would allow her to have in making decisions by herself is a debatable matter in this fandom.

Here's my own opinion of it:

In the beginning, if she would try to make a decision by herself, he wouldn't like it. Because he's not used to have others take major decisions (having the King rule him in S&B doesn't count here because in that occasion Aleksander had no other option but to obey him). So, in the first years, it would be kinda difficult for him to get used to it. He would probably not let her decisions be put into action. Like "don't overreach yourself, okay. I'm in charge here".

But! (and this is important)

I don't find Aleksander to be that kind of person who gets crazy feral if his Queen disagrees with a decision of his. If his Sun Summoner spoke reasonably about her disagreement, if she was calm and logical with her own reasons of why she finds his verdict wrong, he would listen to her.

Alina in R&R had said to him that "We would be equals until I disagreed with you. Then you would do to me what you did to Genya."

I disagree. I don't see him that way. Just like I said, if her own argument is spoken in a calm, reasonable manner and in a respectable, honest way, he would actually listen to her. He wouldn't be "OH MY GOD YOU ARGUE AGAINST ME!! DUNGEONS NOW!!"

It's all about the way she'll say it and what is the reason of their argument.

With Alina it was different because she spoke out against him for a matter of high importance: his fight against the Grisha persecution and, of course, Alina's character didn't know shit about politics, wars and what needed to be done.

So, in conclusion, in matters of warfare he would allow her to go by herself if he deemed her powerful and capable to go by herself without getting killed or captured easily and having the right knowledge in fights and strategy.

And in matter of ruling, it would be strange for him if she started and taking decisions by herself from the first week and he probably wouldn't like it. But as the years would go by, I think that not only he would allow her to have a saying but also he would ask for her advice (YES YOU HEARD ME RIGHT).

(oh and about your question if he would allow her to become a soldier: yes. Mainly because all Grisha become soldiers and the Darkling is a man that believes in having fighting skills. Let's not forget how he was teaching Grisha to learn hand-in-hand combat apart from developing their Grisha powers. Plus, I don't imagine him wanting someone that sits on the couch everyday. As much as he would fear for her life sometimes, he would want her to be a fighter)

#that meta is all about what would happen if he had found the Sun Summoner he WANTED btw #the perfect one etc. #(someone with logic and guts👀 *Alina I'm looking at you*) #anon asks #the darkling #pro darkling #meta #darkling meta #grishaverse #shadow and bone #grishaverse trilogy #aleksander morozova #ruin and rising

[lauraneedstochill]

I was searching but not for you

pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader summary: Aemond is eager to catch the thief who keeps stealing his gemstones but the person in question seems to always be one step ahead of him. words: ~ 4000 author’s note: about two months ago, I got the idea to write short stories inspired by the songs I like. this idea may totally flop, but I already wrote a few one-shots so I might as well post them somewhere. you can skip the song but I think it helps with ✨ the vibes ✨ P.S. don’t read the translation from French right away song inspo: Leagues — Walking Backwards (Spotify / YouTube)

>>> The first time it happens, it’s blindsiding — he gets a call in the middle of the night, and the words are rushed and the voice on the other end of the phone is panicking. Aemond sits up against the head of his bed, silky linen softy sliding down his chest, and the sleep is still clinging to his skin, and he can’t quite understand what’s going on. Surely, it sounds like a bad joke — someone broke into his office, someone found his safe. He’s the only one who knows the contents of the locked metal box, and he cherishes it very deeply. He doesn’t easily let go of the things he loves.

In about five minutes, his car roars through the empty streets, his heart is racing, his body fueled by the adrenaline that eats up the remnants of his sleepiness. Aemond all but runs — in the building, in the elevator, on the right floor. The security team looks so baffled, he almost wants to laugh. And then he sees it — his safe, accurately opened and seemingly not emptied. Because the uncut diamond in it didn’t take much space, and now it is, indeed, missing. There’s a note left, written in cursive so perfect, it looks as mocking as the words on it:

“A safe hidden behind a painting? Honestly, that’s just bad taste.”

His shock turns into anger in the blink of an eye.

>>> The fact that someone dared to steal from him is offensive enough, but the stolen gemstone also holds a special meaning — it’s the first one he’s ever bought with his own money, by himself, for himself. It’s not the biggest one he owns, not the rarest color or the most high-priced, but the auction it was sold at dragged for almost two hours, and the very last bidder was too persistent for his liking. Finally winning felt so good, it was addicting. Losing that very thing felt like a punch, and he hadn’t missed a single one before.

>>> He changes the locks and tightens security, but there are no leads — nothing on his cameras, and no one saw a thing. He begrudgingly tells Helaena about it when she finds a moment to check up on him in between hosting countless exhibitions in her gallery. That very gallery also stores one of his gems, so he wants to take precautions, just in case.

His sister brings him croissants and sips on matcha while listening to him, worry sawn onto her face. She reassures him she’ll be alert, she’s empathetic as ever. She then enthusiastically goes to tell him all about the new layout for the Van Gogh collection she’ll put on display next month. Her cheerful babbling gives him an hour-long reprieve from his inner torment.

On her way out, Helaena stops, her brows furrowing:

“Do you know who owned the diamond before you?”

“There were no details on the owner,” Aemond shrugs. “I only know his collection had to be auctioned for debts which definitely drove down the price.”

She gives him a heartfelt smile:

“I’ll ask around, then.”

>>> Someone steals the sapphire from her gallery precisely a week after their conversation. The gem of 150 carats is protected with armored glass and kept in a separate hall, but no alarms are triggered the night it disappears. Helaena only finds out in the morning and sends him a photo of an empty stand. When Aemond arrives at the gallery, police are already at the scene. They all wear the same confused expression.

“There’s no footage on the cameras,” his sister explains, perplexed. Then squints at him: “But they left a note.”

Aemond swallows down an annoyed grunt and spends ten minutes answering a pointless sequence of questions. Only then he gets to see the thing he’s most curious about. The piece of paper says:

“Your taste is better when it comes to gems. The exhibition looks great, by the way!”

He passes it on his way back — it’s a collection of some Swedish artist he’s never heard of. The painting closest to him is called “The Lady with the Veil”, and the woman on the canvas looks at him with a sly smile.

>>> The third time can take the prize for being the most ridiculous one. He made the purchase only two days ago — a pink diamond of exceptional purity, and the transfer is arranged in the strictest secrecy. He gives instructions, he hires two guards for the ride; he’s counting minutes. Aemond has a lurking suspicion that something is off when the delivery is 15 minutes late. But then the courier finally walks in, hands him the box locked with a digital code, and Aemond tenses up in anticipation. The second he opens it, his mouth falls slack.

“Are you kidding me?!” he roars — the box is empty, with only a pink ribbon left inside.

The courier shrivels at the sound and apologizes profusely. And then admits that they made a stop on their way. He says they went down the wrong route — because of some glitch in his GPS — and ended up at the wrong house. It took the man a couple of minutes to realize his mistake and come back to the truck. He has no explanation for why he thought that taking both guards with him was in any way a good idea, but he swears that the driver never left the vehicle.

To add to Aemond’s anguish, the two policemen sent to his place seem to be positively stupid. Not only do they not understand the concept of digital locks, but they also don’t grasp the gravity of the situation. One of them scribbles something in his notebook, then scratches his head with a pen, then asks:

“Are you sure it’s not just a case of miscommunication?”

Aemond is sure that he’s never been this close to strangling a law enforcement officer. He gives the cops a tight-lipped smile and sends them away, and he is still left with no information to get things off the ground. He’s also a little bitter that there was no note this time.

He’s staring at the empty box with a brooding frown when he feels his phone vibrating. It’s a text from his sister:

“There are rumors that the man you’ve got your diamond from was some tech developer. His identity was sealed by court order :( But maybe this will be of use? xx”

Aemond rereads the message, then ponders for a minute. That may explain all the technical malfunctions that he suspects were not accidental. It also gives him an idea.

>>> He orders his security team to look through all the street cameras along the route. Buff guys crash at his office, dragging in every monitor they can find, and strain their eyes to catch anything. Aegon volunteers to help although he mostly spends his time roaming around the room with a bottle of beer, leaving his fingerprints on every glassy surface.

Just as Aemond has hoped, they find the person of interest at the first stop the courier made. Except the video gives them no clue who they are looking at. The men watch as someone — wearing all black, their face covered — quietly sneaks to the truck, opens it and gets in, squirreling through the gap between the back doors. They do that with such ease, Aemond won’t be surprised to see them using a magic wand. The driver spends that time singing along to some rap song blasting in the car.

Aegon notices the strained silence and gets closer, then focuses on the footage. And then he starts cracking with laughter.

“Hey, it’s a woman!” he exclaims. “I know one when I see one!”

All the security guys lean toward the cameras and watch the recording again, following her movements and tilting their heads to the left in unison like some hypnotized owls.

“Well, that does look... like a female body,” one of them mumbles, others humming in agreement, eyes still glued to the screens.

Aemond feels the secondhand embarrassment creeping in and quietly growls, facepalming. He catches Aegon’s gaze, and his brother chuckles, his eyes crinkled.

“Man, you must’ve really fucked up for her to go after you like that,” Aegon whispers with a grin. “Is it bad that I’m kinda rooting for her now?”

Aemond can’t think of a single person who would want to cross him, let alone a woman. He’s not one to fool around or break hearts, and his own stays closed, and no one ever made it flutter. Incomprehension stirs up his thoughts the way a storm does the sea.

“So what’s your plan?” Aegon’s voice brings him back to reality.

“I’ll tell you when I have one,” Aemond sighs. “What I definitely don’t plan on doing is buy another diamond,” he swirls the phone in his hand like he always does when he’s agitated.

Aegon finishes his beer, then looks at the screens again.

“But you still have enough gemstones,” he drawls.

“Enough for what?” Aemond raises a brow at him.

“To get her interest,” his brother smirks. “Don’t you think?”

Aemond lets Aegon’s words sink in until he grasps the meaning behind them, and the suggestion leaves a hint of a smile on his lips. He instantly dials his sister:

“Hel, can you do me a favor? I want to hold an exhibition. It’s gonna be the most expensive one you’ve ever had.”

“Show-off,” Aegon mutters, rolling his eyes.

>>> The gallery is located at the end of the central street, overlooking a small canal with charming tour boats, with blossoming cherry trees planted along the way. Aemond plans everything down to the last detail — every camera’s placement, every guard’s position, he learns all the ins and outs of the building. The day before the event, his nerves are on edge, his mind restless, and he makes an irrational decision to stop by the gallery to take a quick look around. He warps between halls and examines the stands — all while answering countless calls he’s been bombarded with since someone leaked the story of his misfortunes to the press.

He’s looking at the layout of the upper floor, flipping through the pages, his smartphone pressed up against his ear when he rounds the corner — and suddenly crashes into someone. The phone slips out, papers scatter around, and he instinctively puts out a hand, and it rests upon another body, their skin warm against his fingers. He hears a surprised voice:

“Oh, excusez-moi!” and then it gets softer. “Je ne m’attendais pas à ce que tu sois là *.”

When Aemond glances down, he is left speechless.

A woman is looking at him, her parted lips curled up in a light smile, her features gentle, face expression amused. There’s a hint of mischief in her eyes, an alluring gleam of mystery he is instantly drawn to solve. She’s only wearing a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, and yet he thinks he’s never seen a sight so pretty. His hand stays on her waist, his thumb sneaked under the white material. He wants to keep it there.

She shamelessly studies his face until her gaze grazes his lips — curiously, intrigued — then she looks up.

“I am horribly clumsy, my apologies,” she finally says, her voice low and dulcet, and hands Aemond his phone and a couple of papers. He completely missed the moment when she somehow managed to catch all that.

“Makes two of us,” he utters, reluctantly removing his palm from the bend of her waistline. The touch of her hand compensates for it — their fingers brush, but it’s fleeting and it leaves him wanting more.

She helps him pick the rest of his papers off the floor, not giving him a chance to protest. She’s nimble and smiley, he is tacit and stunned.

“The preparations for the exhibit seem quite extensive,” she remarks, looking around, standing carelessly close to him but not close enough. “You put in a lot of work,” she casts a glance at him, and Aemond’s cheeks heat up.

“I had a lot of help,” he modestly brushes off the compliment, but his eye never leaves her face, and he doesn’t want to leave, either. There is no explanation for this feeling, for this need, for how flustered and tongue-tied he is.

“I should let you get back to it, then,” she takes a step back, moving out of his reach, and he can’t find a reason to make her stay for a bit longer.

“Do you plan on coming?” Aemond asks, and in any other case, he would’ve found the desperation in his voice to be embarrassing. Right now, he couldn’t care less.

She turns to look at him and holds his gaze for a good few seconds. She isn’t smiling but there’s laughter in her eyes when she says:

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” and then walks out.

His phone buzzes again, a string of unread notifications popping up on the screen. But it’s the girl with a velvety voice that hooks his attention like nothing else. He didn’t think to question what she was doing in the gallery.

>>> The exhibition is a bit too crowded, and Aemond scurries between the halls and watches the gemstones like a hawk, looking out for anyone suspicious. He tries to persuade himself it’s the only reason he peers into the crowd; it’s not. He also can’t help but wait for a certain person, for a very specific face to show up.

But minutes pass by and soon turn into an hour and then into two, and he almost gives up.

He stares blankly at one of the gems — Colombian emerald, a hundred carats of the purest green, — he was ecstatic to get his hands on it, and yet right now it looks dull, and it brings him no joy. He sees a gleam of the same color out of the corner of his eye and disregards it at first, but then he casts his gaze to the side, and his breathing hitches.

She did come, and when he sees her, his heart not only skips a bit but does a full-on salto.

Her dress is brighter than any emerald — the material flows, following every curve of her body, with a coyly slit up to the middle of her thigh. The waves of her hairdo fall to one side, and his eye trails her collarbones, the line of her neck, and moves up to her lips that are blooming red, radiant like rubies. She is so beautiful, all the gemstones pale in comparison, and he can’t tear his gaze away.

She goes straight to Aemond as if there are no other people in the gallery — she maneuvers between them but only looks at him, a familiar smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“It’s safe to say your efforts paid off,” she gestures at the crowd when she’s at arm’s reach. “I think congratulations are in order,” the words flow from her lips like honey.

He blinks a few times, then comes to his senses and finds his voice.

“Thank you,” he musters in response. “I suspect the gems are to blame,” he remarks and tries to put on his usual cold self-restraint. She isn’t having any of it.

“With so many of them, I can’t decide what to look at first,” she comes closer, boldly and unabashed, and he’s enveloped in her perfume, in the warmth of her gaze. He takes the hint.

“I can give you a tour,” he offers, and her smile grows wider. Then her eyes glide over the emerald, and she taps on the protective glass:

“This one seems rather pricey.”

“It was,” Aemond agrees, clasping hands behind his back, very pleased with himself. “Comes from the Muzo mines, a square octagon-cut 100.2-carat emerald.”

“The shape does help to convey the color depth of the stone,” she hums with satisfaction, but her eyes are on Aemond again. Seeing his questioning look, she adds: “The cut of a gem is what determines its value, isn’t it?”

He only manages to nod because her thigh brushes his, and he doesn’t even pretend to pay attention to the gemstone. Neither does she, taking him by the arm:

“So, what’s next on our tour?”

>>> He guides her from one display to the other, and they move further away from the crowd, into smaller halls, less noisy and dimly lit, the gemstones being the only bright spot in each room. She asks questions, and their conversation flows, but he quickly notes that she knows more than she’s letting on.

“You seem well-versed on the topic yourself,” Aemond assumes as they take a stop in front of yet another stand. The yellow diamond on it catches the light and sparkles like a little sun.

“My father held a great appreciation for gemstones of all sorts,” she reveals, with a tinge of sadness in her voice. “I guess I’ve learned a thing or two from him.”

“Are you a collector too?”

She softly laughs, and her gaze turns playful:

“I value the rare beauty of them but... I think I find the buying process more exciting. It’s all about the chase,” she murmurs, leaning into him just a bit.

She’s mesmerizing, she’s a charade, and he’s captivated beyond understanding. But before he can say anything else, a loud noise shatters the silence between them — the fire alarm goes off. А monotone voice on the speaker orders everyone to leave the building.

“That’s odd,” Aemond mumbles, more to himself. He hears people’s voices in the distance and gently takes her by the hand. “We should go too.”

“Maybe it’s a false alarm?” she doesn’t move. “I am sure the security will turn it off in a minute. With how well this place is guarded, you have nothing to worry about, right?”

It dawns on Aemond that he didn’t think once about the safety of the gemstones in the last hour, and it’s just as concerning as the unexpected evacuation. To add to his worry, the overhead lighting goes off.

“We should wait for the emergency generator to kick in,” she suggests, not bothered in the slightest. He should find it weird, but he can only think of how close she is, how the faint light from the display contours her face.

“Um, it will take — ”

“About three minutes,” she finishes up for him. “We just need to find a way to pass the time.”

“I think I’ve told you all there is to know about the collection,” Aemond lightly chuckles. “Unless you got any other ideas?”

“Well, I don’t usually do that but...,” she says quietly, looking up at him as her hand lies on his shoulder, then slowly moves to his neck.

“Do what?” he is caught off guard, he can’t concentrate on anything other than the movement of her palm. “Do you want to —”

“You talk too much,” she interrupts him with a smile, her finger tugging at the collar of his shirt, and then her lips cover his, and the words die down on his tongue, and all the sounds disappear.

Her lips are rubies but they feel like silk, intoxicating like wine, and before he can think it over, he kisses her back, and he can’t think of anything else, and his hands find her waist so easily he wishes to never keep them away. She allows him to lead this time, to set the pace, his fingers tugging her closer, his mouth fervid — and he’s insatiable, and he wants to leave her as breathless as he is. He succeeds in that.

When they part, the light is already on.

“I didn’t mean to take your attention away from your precious stones,” she breathes out.

“I think I got a hold of another one,” Aemond trails for her lips, but she laughs against his mouth.

“I meant actual gems.”

“I can recognize a real gem from a fake one,” he retorts and brushes away a strand of her hair that fell loose.

“Can you?” she throws him a cunning look and bites her lower lip. “Oh, Aemond,” she then gets quiet, almost hesitant, her gaze hinting at something unsaid, something important. “You should’ve let me make the last bid,” she whispers all of a sudden.

He stares at her in confusion, and there’s a ringing concern in the back of his head, a nascent hunch. Simultaneously, another realization kicks in:

“You never told me your name,” Aemond finally grasps.

“And you never told me yours, you just assumed I knew it,” she’s not offended, she is very much enjoying it. “I did,” she traces the contour of his jaw with her index finger.

He’s about to say something else when they hear hurried footsteps approaching.

“Mr. Targaryen, we were hoping you would — Oh,” the guard falls silent upon seeing them. The man reads the room and gets clearly abashed but Aemond doesn’t.

“I would what?” he asks, unfazed, not removing his hand from her waist.

“I just wanted to inform you it was a false alarm, but we are going through the cameras to look for any suspicious activity,” the guard explains, then holds a pause. “Maybe you would want to join us?”

Aemond looks at her, his face expression apologetic, but she doesn’t make an issue out of it.

“You should go,” she encourages. “Make sure that everything is fine.”

He doesn’t want to but he has to, they both know that. What he doesn’t know is why he feels the need to make promises to the woman he’s only met twice.

“It will only be a couple of minutes,” his hand glides down and captures hers.

“Take your time,” her thumb careless his palm, and then she lets him go. He feels her gaze on him on the way out.

>>> Aemond walks through the empty halls and corridors, catching a glimpse of Helaena and Aegon standing outside with all the guests, his brother’s hand draped over her shoulder, both laughing at something. He’s glad that everyone is safe — he is also glad that Aegon won’t get a chance to tease him. Aemond is pretty sure there’s a red hue left on his lips but he only thinks of it when he walks into the security room, and it’s too late to wipe it off.

“Anything caught your attention?” he nonchalantly asks the guards that are watching the security footage.

“Nothing so far,” one of them informs. “The evacuation went without complications, took us about seven minutes — started with the green hall, all according to the plan,” he proudly states. Aemond absentmindedly nods.

“And what was it with the light?”

“Oh, that,” the man frowns. “Something set off the emergency reboot of the system. All our guys were outside, so we sent one of the security men who stayed back at the site to check the generator.”

That string of words bothers Aemond.

“Stayed at the site — you mean, in one of the halls?” he guesses. “Which one was it?”

“The green one, it’s closest to the basement,” the guard tells him without a second thought.

Aemond thinks of the floor plan, then counts the minutes in his head. Then he realizes:

“So the emerald remained unguarded the longest.”

>>> He’s the first one to run out of the room — and the first one to reach the green hall, his heart racing. But, despite his worst fears, the gem is still there. Untouched, big, green, dull.

... Dull.

Aemond watches it silently, and the gears in his head start turning faster. He comes up to the stand, eye fixed on the emerald.

“Take it out,” he asks, his tone commanding. “Now.”

A member of the staff gets the gem from under the glass cover, and Aemond takes the emerald in his hand, then turns his phone’s flashlight on. Under direct light, the jewel radiates a rainbow of colors, bright and iridescent. Just like plain glass. To prove his theory further, he drags the bezel of his platinum watch over the stone’s surface — and it leaves a very evident scratch.

Someone gasps behind his back, and there’s no need to say it out loud. Still, he does:

“It’s fake,” Aemond concludes.

The invited jewelry expert holds a hand to his heart.

“But it’s not possible! Not possible,” he muses. “The cameras were on for the duration of the day, we’ve got the footage right here!”

They were on today, but not the day before, Aemond notes. He drags out all the pieces of information he can think of — coincidences, memories, words:

“The man you’ve got your diamond from was some tech developer,”

“My father held a great appreciation for the gemstones,”

“The preparations seem extensive,”

“It’s all about the chase,”

“You should’ve let me make the last bid,”

— and the puzzle comes together.

“God damn it,” he says under his breath, closing his eye.

And then, while everyone looks clueless, Aemond lets out a laugh. There is no anger in it — if anything, he feels relieved. For him, the chase has gotten quite tiresome. But oh so worth it, he thinks.

“You can put it back and invite everyone in,” Aemond gives the emerald to the expert who seems doubtful.

“But what of its authenticity?”

“Well, just don’t let anyone take it out and put it under a flashlight,” Aemond sneers. Then he turns to the guards: “Can you show me the yellow hall?”

When he sees the place empty, he rushes out without another word.

>>> The sunset spreads over the sky, flooding it with orange and crimson, and Aemond searches for her in the crowd and in the street but to avail at first. His eye roves over the mass of faces, bodies, vehicles passing by — and then falls on the other side of the canal. He recognizes her in a heartbeat.

She changed back into jeans and a t-shirt, with a leather jacket thrown over, a black motorbike parked next to her. The wind ruffles waves of her hair and the hem of her shirt, and Aemond wishes he could sneak his hands under it again. He doesn’t know if she sees him in the side mirror or if she feels his gaze — he hopes it’s the latter — but she turns to him, and their eyes meet.

She flashes him a smile that lits up her whole face and then turns into laughter. Aemond can’t hear her but he remembers the sound of it, and the corners of his mouth tilt up. It feels like there’s no distance separating them, no people, and no channel of water strewn with fallen cherry blossoms. She taps at the pocket of her jacket and points at him — he looks down at his suit and in a second he catches on to what she means. Aemond puts a hand in his pocket and finds a piece of paper inside. It’s small and gently folded, it’s the same cursive he’ll recognize anywhere:

“Didn’t get a chance to tell you last time — you really should invest in a better security system. Makes me wonder how good is the one you have at home. Maybe I should check it out.

Until next time, Y/N.”

When he looks up, she’s already left, but the smile doesn’t leave his face.

He doesn’t know if it’s a challenge or a date.

But he can’t wait to see her again. * “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t expect you to be here.”

✧ the original dress in all its glory ✧ “The Lady with the Veil” 💕 another fic where the girl makes the first step 🔞 another fic with a green dress

💚 my masterlist

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

#aemond targaryen #depression sucks the joy out of writing for me but here I am #did I look through 800 PAGES of my art encyclopedia to find the painting that I only mention ONCE? #yes I did being a perfectionist is so much fun #ALSO I realized I either write super slow burn or I go from 1 to 100 immediately there’s no in between lmao #my stuff #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond one eye #aemond one eye x y/n #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfics #aemond targaryen fics #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond modern au #hotd modern au #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfiction

[sea-owl]

Now let me preference this by saying I HATE when a characters parents or loved ones are turned into abusers just because. This, for me, includes Kizashi and Mebuki Haruno, Sakura's parents. I have said on here before that I have a preference how I wish they were brought into the story more as actual stable adult figures for team 7.

But I do think there is a potential story to be told in Naruto about assumptions vs. reality and how someone can be in pain even if it doesn't look like your's using Sakura and her parents. In general, we know very little about Sakura's parents, Kishimoto said he could never figure out how to include them, and official designs weren't released until the Road to Ninja movie. In the movie they kinda lightly touched on this idea but then people lost their shit because God forbid Sakura vents to a close friend about being doubted just because the people doubting her are her parents and Naruto, despite being one of the most empathetic characters in the series, just so happens not to have those so she should automatically being walking on eggshells around the topic. But back to the idea.

Now I probably wouldn't make her parents physically abusive but more along the lines that they are extremely nelgectful of her. Or take on the idea that Tiny_Dncr had in the fanfic Her Experience where something happened and Sakura HAD to become the adult too young but due to her young biological age , it's not reconized as that.

I would probably set this, or at least start around the genin era. Specifically after Sasuke yells at her about how she has no idea about loneliness because in his, and probably Naruto's eyes too, among all those orphans on team 7 Sakura has the perfect life. Then I would pull it back into Sakura's pov for us to slowly discover that hey, something isn't quite right with her home situation. Her basic physical needs are being met, but no one is ever home, Sakura's parents ignore her or never talk to her to critique her. Sakura could come and go as she pleased, and her parents would never notice unless she did something wrong in their eyes.

Sakura also sees this behavior as normal because it's all she's ever known. Or if she starts to feel bad about her situation, she talks herself out of it because, hey, at least she has parents it could be worse.

Kakashi once in a while catches some hints Sakura's home life is not ok but he's so preoccupied by Sasuke and Naruto, who are more similar to him and their signs he can easily more recognize, kinda brushes it off. The longer team 7 is a team, the more cracks that start to show.

Then let's say Sakura got hospitalized from a mission for a few days. Word was sent to her parents that hey, your daughter is in the hospital, but neither of them show up. Team 7 has been to visit and they notice that besides them she's been alone. Naruto and Sasuke think hey this is weird. Kakashi is on high alert now.

During one of team 7's visits, Sakura's neglect comes out when a doctor asks her point blank where her parents are because to discharge her, they need to release her into the care of an adult. This is when Sakura reveals that her parents had left for a business trip that morning. There is no adult coming. Several minds come to the realization that she's been in the hospital for days and her parents never cared enough to even make sure she was still breathing. The worst part about it is that she said it so nonchalantly, like it was just a fact of life.

This causes a double take because Sakura that isn't right, but again this is all Sakura's ever known so she thought it was normal.

Would probably go on with Sakura, eventually coming to the realization that what her parents did was not ok and her feeling hurt over it is valid. Would also have team 7 bonding and learning from one another.

#naruto #team 7 #haruno sakura #sakura haruno #uchiha sasuke #sasuke uchiha #uzumaki naruto #naruto uzumaki #hatake kakashi #kakashi hatake

[comradekatara]

Can we ask about those weird crack ships that are like “LOK character time travels and dates Avatar character when they were young” or “Avatar character is born like 60 years later in Republic City and dates LOK character AU?”

Mostly I just wanna know how the 2 most beautiful girls in the world (Ty Lee and Asami) would get along

okay this is fun because asami is the most genuine, principled, sincere, and empathetic girl in the world, and ty lee is incredibly manipulative and calculating and constantly hiding behind multiple layers of the self to the point that when she strips back one layer she isn’t so much revealing real vulnerability but rather putting on a calculated performance of vulnerability. so while they both do perform femininity and are incredibly beautiful in a way that allows them to get what they want (to an extent), the motivations behind their similar presentations are so different. they’re both incredibly adaptive and versatile because they are constantly comporting themselves to the expectations and appeasement of everyone around them, so i do think they could easily get along, but i don’t know if they would actually bond beyond a very superficial level of pleasant social interaction. asami really needs someone bold and brash like korra to bring her out of her shell and inspire her to state her needs, and ty lee needs someone really blunt and honest like mai to call her out on her deflection and manipulation. they’d certainly be the envy of all, but i don’t think they’d actually work well at all as a couple.

#catgirl-behavior-therapy #asks #asami #ty lee

[jubileemon]

The Dark Truth About Valentino

Valentino is overall the most evil character in the "Hazbin Hotel" due to outranking all the others and other high ranking Overlord in general, due to his actions darkening the plot of the series and being based on sexual abusers who are depraved and evil people in real life.

However it's also worth noting that Vox is completely aware of Valentino's many abuses and enables him, even going as far as giving him other Sinners to randomly kill when he loses his temper, but while more comedic in mannerism Vox is considerably more malicious than many give him credit for, using manipulation and power to cause evil from a relative distance rather than Valentino's use of rampant, in-person violence.

WHAT MAKES HIM DESPICABLE?

He is rather abusive to his employee Angel Dust, as he rarely lets him leave his studio. To make this even worse, in the music video ADDICT it's made abundantly clear that Valentino really just sees him as a sex object that he sexually abuses and even assaulted.

To make Valentino's abuse of Angel Dust even worse, it seems that his horrible abuse of Angel Dust left him with PTSD, and it's also revealed he's not above torturing him for sick kinks, as Angel mentions in "Welcome to Heaven" that during one of his filmings Valentino put him through waterboarding.

He throws a tantrum like a baby when he finds out Angel is staying at the Hazbin Hotel and aims to just barge into the hotel with a gun to kill everyone inside of it. He is thankfully called out and stopped by Vox. This scene is partly played for laughs, but mostly just shows how much of an unhinged manchild he is.

In "Masquerade", he greets Charlie by non-consensually licking her arm and then suggesting that she should work for him to shoot porn. This makes Charlie incredibly uncomfortable and declines his offer.

After Charlie accidentally sets his movie set on fire, Valentino calls Angel into his dressing room where he proceeds to repeatedly hit and assault Angel, while also breaking him emotionally by reminding Angel that he owns him due to a binding contract and that there's nothing that he can do about it. Valentino then orders Angel to get rid of Charlie from the movie set.

Charlie witnesses this horrific ordeal and becomes so furious that she was about to go into full demon mode and punish Valentino by beating him up, but is stopped when Angel tells her to leave, showing just how much Val has broken him to the point where he has to defend his abuser.

After Charlie leaves, he then forces Angel to do multiple pornography films against his will, leaving him broken down and traumatized. Given how kind and empathetic Charlie usually is towards sinners regardless of their attitude, this is rather telling of how awful Valentino is even by Hell's standards.

While at a sex club called "Consent" trying to convince a girl into working for him, he encounters Angel Dust and Niffty, with Valentino showing interest in having the latter have a role in his films, and when Angel tells Valentino to leave them alone, he uses his chains on Angel and hit him when he stood up to him, saying that he would make Angel pay for what he did the next day at the studio.

To hammer-in just how vile Valentino is compared to most of Hell, even Asmodeus, who the literal embodiment of LUST, is vocal about hating when it is forced such as love potions, this means that Valentino would likely be deeply disliked by Asmodeus despite Valentino's active love of lustful activities, he can be seen as a dark mirror of Asmodeus in a similar fashion, being the traditionally wicked and depraved aspects of lust (while Asmodeus is much more neutral). For all his vices, Asmodeus has far more decency than Valentino does.

So far, he completely lacks any redeeming traits that Alastor, Vox, Velvette and even Adam at least have, making him easily one of the most detestable antagonists in the entire series. Even other characters in the series seem to despise him, such as Husk, Cherri, and especially Charlie. Only Vox and Velvette seem to tolerate him and consider him their friend, but even then they are constantly annoyed by his temper tantrums.

#vivziepop #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin analysis #valentino #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin angel dust #angel dust #charlie morningstar #asmodeus #helluva boss asmodeus #sin of lust #lust #villain #character writing #cw abuse #hazbin the vees #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox