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#(just!! a simple and silly memory but a brighter one!!)
mysweetlixe · 2 months
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✰ The type of boyfriend ✰
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Paring: |Felix x Reader|
Genre: Romance and Fluff
Words: 1.k
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Felix is the type of boyfriend to make ASMR videos to help you drift off to sleep at night. The sound of his soothing voice and gentle whispers mixed with calming sounds, creating a sense of peace and comfort that lulled you into a state of relaxation. You couldn't help but feel grateful to have someone like Felix in your life, always thinking of ways to make your day a little brighter.
Felix is the type of boyfriend who likes to kiss. His lips are soft and gentle, and every touch feels like a sweet melody playing against my skin. Whenever we're together, he finds opportunities to steal kisses, whether it's a quick peck in public or a lingering embrace behind closed doors.
Felix is the type of boyfriend who always knew how to make you laugh . His sense of humor was infectious, and his timing impeccable. He had a knack for finding joy in the simplest of things, effortlessly turning mundane moments into hilarious memories. Whether it was a clever pun, a silly dance move, or a perfectly timed one-liner, Felix had an uncanny ability to lighten the mood and bring laughter into any situation.
Felix is the type of boyfriend to always listen and understand. He had an innate sense of empathy that allowed him to truly connect with others on a deeper level. Whenever you share your worries or fears with him, he would lend me his undivided attention, offering a comforting presence that made you feel seen and heard.
Felix is the type of boyfriend when it came to surprises, he was a true mastermind. He loved nothing more than seeing that spark of excitement in your eyes when he had something special planned. From spontaneous weekend getaways to surprise date nights at your favorite restaurant, Felix knew exactly how to keep the romance alive and keep you on your toes.
Felix is the type of boyfriend who likes when you play with his hair. His head would rest in your lap, and your fingers would gently comb through his soft locks, eliciting a contented sigh from his lips. It was in these moments that time seemed to stand still, and the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in a peaceful bubble of intimacy.
Felix is the type of boyfriend who thinks about one day building a future together. He talks about it with such earnestness, his eyes lighting up as he paints vivid pictures of the life you could create as a couple. He dreams of a cozy home filled with laughter and warmth, where you can grow old together and make beautiful memories. Felix is always thinking about the next step, the next adventure, and the next chapter of your love story.
Felix is the type of boyfriend to tell you that he loves you every single day. He doesn't just say the words casually, but with a genuine sincerity that makes your heart swell. He understands the power of expressing love and never hesitates to remind you how much you mean to him. Whether it's through a whispered "I love you" before bed or a handwritten note tucked into your bag, Felix knows that love should always be spoken and felt.
Felix is the type of boyfriend who likes to hold your hand wherever you go. His touch is warm and reassuring, and the simple act of intertwining your fingers brings a sense of security and unity. Whether you're strolling through the park or facing a crowded room, Felix's hand in yours becomes your anchor, grounding you and reminding you that you're not alone.
Felix is the type of boyfriend who always puts your needs before his own. He has an innate ability to sense when you're feeling overwhelmed or stressed, and he's always there to offer a comforting word or a shoulder to lean on. Whether it's running errands for you when you're not feeling well or surprising you with your favorite meal after a long day, Felix goes above and beyond to make sure you feel loved and supported.
Felix is the type of boyfriend to teach you how to play video games. His passion for gaming is infectious, and he eagerly shares his knowledge and skills with you. Patiently, he teaches you how to hold the controller, navigate through virtual worlds, and overcome challenges. As you both dive into the immersive gaming experience together, Felix's excitement is palpable. He celebrates your victories as if they were his own, and cheers you on during intense boss battles. With him by your side, every gaming session becomes a bonding experience, filled with laughter, friendly competition, and shared triumphs.
Felix is the type of boyfriend who loves to dance. Whether it's in the privacy of your living room or at a crowded club, Felix's feet can't help but move to the rhythm of the music. He effortlessly glides across the dance floor, his body flowing with grace and precision. And when he takes your hand, pulling you close, you become his dance partner, swept away in a whirlwind of twirls and dips. Together, you become lost in the music, moving in perfect harmony as if you were made for each other.
Felix is the type of boyfriend to bake you the most delicious treats. He finds joy in experimenting with flavors and textures, always eager to surprise you with his latest creation. From decadent chocolate chip cookies to fluffy cinnamon rolls, Felix's baking skills are unparalleled. The aroma of freshly baked goods fills your home, creating a cozy and inviting atmosphere. And when you take that first bite, your taste buds are greeted with a burst of sweetness and love that only Felix could create.
Felix is the type of boyfriend who will be there for you through thick and thin. In times of hardship, he becomes your rock, offering unwavering support and a listening ear. He understands that life isn't always smooth sailing, and when the storms come, he stands by your side, helping you weather the challenges that come your way.
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suffermaze · 19 days
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rose petals | steve harrington
summary: It's international women's day and you really believe that Steve forgot about it, so instead you decide to surprise him. 1,8k.
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You spent the entire day hearing greetings and compliments from everyone, here and there. It was a special occasion, after all, and even though you deserved to hear those things every day and felt annoyed by the lack of recognition on any other day, it felt good to be seen and appreciated.
Yet, the only thing you truly couldn't wait for was to get home and find your boyfriend waiting for you with open arms. Even though you hadn't planned to receive a surprise or anything like that, the anticipation made your stomach flutter slightly, and it was inevitable.
Along the way, you came across several shops decorated with hearts, and ironically, only women working in them. You decided that all that appearance of someone caring was just utter nonsense.
You went into a flower shop and made sure to buy a rose because this year would be different; you would be the one to surprise him, even if it was just a silly gesture that wouldn't directly affect anything except the local commerce by buying that simple flower.
Finally arriving home, you tried to listen through the keyhole if Steve was up to something with his habit of talking to himself, or if you could hear any noises indicating that he was preparing something, but strangely, there was nothing but silence.
Frowning, you hesitantly held the doorknob and pushed the door open, which creaked slightly due to your delicacy in pushing it forward, but it didn't elicit any apparent reaction.
Gently, you entered your living room more and more, step by step on tiptoes, just to find the dark-haired lying on the couch, his cheek squished against the soft pillow and a light crochet blanket covering his massive body, which was all squeezed on the too-small sofa.
You let out a sigh, watching him sleep there so quietly, like an angel, the warm yellowish light softly illuminating his face, highlighting the tiny freckles, with so much tranquility in his breathing. It was exactly like observing the sky on a summer night, serene, the stars seeming to shine even brighter after the warm sun of the day. That feeling always washed over you every time your eyes fell on Steve.
You approach slowly, looking around involuntarily a few times, hoping to find a trace of some present or maybe just a piece of chocolate, but nothing…
Before you can get close enough to sit, the boy senses your presence and wakes up with a start, making you startle too and a little scream escapes from both sides. You end up falling on top of him on the couch, making him laugh as he hugs you tightly, trying to pull you almost inside him.
"God, I missed you," he says, his face buried in your neck, trying to imprint your scent in his brain, even though you were already a vivid memory in the boy's mind. Every detail, line, freckle, strand of hair, habit, scent. Steve knew it all, and yet he never tired of remembering it every day.
"But did you? You were pretty sleepy to be thinking about anything at all," you tease, chuckling softly and lifting yourself just to stare at him with narrowed eyes, almost challenging him.
"But I was dreaming about you the whole time," he easily deflects your accusation, raising his eyebrows as if expecting approval for saying the "right thing", and that just makes you roll your eyes, though you couldn't hide a silly smile.
"I have something for you," your voice sounds eager, and you can perceive the quick change in the sleepy boy's gaze, who suddenly becomes alert. The only thing crossing Steve's mind is how screwed he was because if you brought a gift, it means he had forgotten something, and that couldn't be good.
Even though you weren't one of those girlfriends who cared so much, you also forgot a date or two and never used to demand anything from the boy. Having him with you there every day was more than enough.
Steve, on the other hand, was the kind of person who made sure to make you feel special even on days that had no event or festivity. He loved to see your eyes sparkling like a child receiving their favorite present on Christmas.
He smiles, trying to disguise it, and you have to control yourself as much as you can not to burst into laughter at the situation. Finally, you had won that competition that wasn't really a competition, but still left you feeling proud.
"Well, since in our relationship you're obviously the feminine one..." you say, looking at him with a mischievous smile and playful eyes, receiving a bored look in return and crossed arms. Then you finally hand him the rose you had set aside. "Happy Women's Day!"
And he takes several long seconds staring at you dumbfounded while you try your hardest to keep from laughing, pressing your lips together. The rose firm in hand, and you can see his cheeks turning redder in no time, giving away that he had actually loved receiving the gift.
"Oh really?" he says, taking a deep breath and looking back into your eyes, the boy's teeth clenched in mock anger and his eyebrows raised almost as if challenging you.
"Oh, really." you reply in advance, your smile growing wider and wider, trying to hold back from laughing in advance because you knew exactly what was going through the boy's mind as he looked at you like that.
"So I guess you could easily get rid of me, huh?" he says, throwing himself on top of you once again before you could anticipate any feeling, his arms locking yours and letting all the weight of his body relax on top of yours, which was much smaller and weaker.
"No! Steve! Get off me!" you automatically shout, trying to hold out for a while before starting to laugh and becoming even weaker to push the boy away. Obviously, as soon as he realizes, he holds back a bit to avoid actually hurting you, but it's still hard to breathe while your organs feel like they're being crushed under him. But he ignores it and just keeps laughing, burying his face in your neck once again just to spread kisses there that tickle your soft skin, making you laugh louder. "Steve! Stop!"
You keep yelling as you try to get rid of the stronger arms, but it's in vain. It doesn't take long for him to notice how fast your heart is beating and how red your face is and understand that it's time to stop. So, he pulls you up, still trapped in his arms, and nestles you in his lap, still planting a few kisses on your lips as you catch your breath and giggle softly.
"How can I make it up to you?" he then asks, breaking the silence, and you lose yourself for a moment. Maybe too confused by the question, or maybe because you loved the way his hair fell messy over his face like that, his honey eyes shining between the brown strands almost like a waterfall more intense than the waters of Niagara. And the only thing you can think of is that you don't need anything else. That was already more than enough, that was everything and even more than you could ever imagine dreaming of one day. Steve was your gift, and knowing that those eyes would forever be yours was the best affirmation you could have.
"What?" you ask, furrowing your brow, your voice somewhat hoarse because your mind was so airy, you couldn't pay attention to anything else.
"Because I forgot about today, how can I make it up to you?" he repeats once again, giving you a gentle squeeze on the arm as if pleading for you to pay attention to it, because it was important to him.
"You know you don't have to." in a failed attempt to reaffirm it, he cuts you off in the middle of any denial or hesitation that dared to come out of your mouth again.
"But I want to." His voice is firm now, looking so deeply into your eyes that you wonder how all this can be real.
"Okay… how about we go to the bedroom…" Your smile is slightly suggestive, and as much as you try to maintain composure, your face burns with embarrassment, and it's impossible for him not to laugh at how adorable you are like that.
"Oh, really?" he teases once again, and you avert his gaze, but he doesn't allow it, holding your chin with his fingertips so that you keep your eyes locked on his while they become slightly darker, and that innocence from seconds ago evaporates completely.
"Really…" you finally say before he kisses you, eliciting a surprised sigh from your throat as he takes the opportunity to lift you off the couch in his arms, without warning, effortlessly regardless of how heavy you think you are.
"Whatever you want," he says, a slightly submissive air in his voice, a look in his eyes saying that he was willing to do anything for you. Anything.
As you enter the bedroom, almost with a sense of desperation, your eyes are flooded with red. Rose petals scattered on the floor, photos of the two of you on the wall, and even heart-shaped balloons, as cheesy as it may sound. And secretly, you're amazed by it all.
Your eyes shine so brightly that it's as if two stars have just become supernovas, and your smile lights up your face so much that even the muscles of your cheeks ache slightly, because it's simply impossible to stop smiling beside him.
"You fooled me," you say, feeling somewhat embarrassed now, for thinking that he would forget, for caring about something even silly, and for believing for even a second that you didn't need that. Because, at least for Steve, it was the least he could do for you.
"And you fell for it like a duckling," he teases, drawing out the pout that forms on your lips with a lingering kiss and then a silly little laugh. "Happy Women's Day, my woman."
He says finally, before placing you on the bed. His voice full of desire and confidence, and you love the way those words come out of his mouth, so certain. His. No one else's. 
And as you see him like that, with all of that around him, a whole scene meticulously prepared so that you would never forget that moment, all you can think is that everything else didn't matter and never would, because he was all you needed and nothing more. Just those kind eyes reminding you that you would always be seen.
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hey!! things are pretty busy for me but I found some time to write just a little blurb, and I really hope you enjoy it!
happy late international women's day! I'm a mess with dates, please forgive me hahaha
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kaciidubs · 3 months
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Twinkling Lights | 8 Days of SKZcember
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Prompt: their first date being at a tree lighting celebration
❣ Summary: His eyes shone brighter than the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 794 ❣ Warnings: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Changbin is a doting boyfriend ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Changbin is referred to as Binnie, and Sweetheart, Reader is referred to as Bunny ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ SKZcember 2023
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“Is your scarf tight enough?”
“Yes, Binnie.”
“What about your hat? Do you want to switch with mine?”
“My hat’s perfectly fine, thank you.”
“And you have your gloves from the car, right?”
“Changbin!” You laughed lightly at your doting boyfriend, pinching his cheek with your fingerless mitten covered hand, “I’m all set, I swear - now, come on! The more time you waste with your checklist, the higher our chances of missing the tree lighting gets.”
It was a simple date idea - visiting the local tree lighting ceremony - but the closer you two grew to the location of the main event, the more excitement seemed to course through your veins.
The small outdoor area was decorated in strings upon strings of lights, casting a warm glow over the previously snowed-on ground, while an array of booths lined the sidewalk - each offering a selection of food, drinks, or small activities for children in celebration of the holiday season.
“Oh… This is beautiful, Binnie!” You fawned over the simplistic decorations, your heart fluttering at the sound of soft Christmas music floating through the chilly air. 
If anything, it felt like a movie.
Changbin laughed at your awe, slipping his gloved hand into yours, “If you think this looks beautiful, you’re going to lose your mind when it comes time to light the tree.”
A laugh bubbled past your lips as you squeezed his hand, “I think I might collapse from beauty overload, you’ll have to carry me back to the car!”
“I mean, I could just carry you now.” He lunged toward you, caging you within his strong arms and laughing mischievously when you tried wiggling your way out of his hold.
“Changbin, don't you dare pick me up! I was just kidding - I was kidding!”
“I don’t know, Bunny, I can’t risk my girl fainting on my watch, can I?”
Pushing against his chest with uncontrollable giggles escaping you, he finally let you go to hold your hand once more; a prideful smirk stretching his lips in the process.
“Just for that,” you huffed, your breath floating out in a small puff, “you’re buying me a hot chocolate, mister.”
“Already planned to, Bunny.”
And, true to his word, you had a warm hot chocolate in your hands within the next fifteen minutes; the two of you leisurely walking around the park to check out the other booths, grab a snack, and even take cute ‘winter couple’ photos to commit the event to memory.
In the midst of a silly-filtered selfie, the announcement of the tree lighting interrupted the current song playing over the speakers, directing everyone to make their way to the main field to witness the main event.
“Oh my god, I’m so excited!” You hugged yourself to his right arm, both in hopes of sharing some of his body heat and containing the excited jitters that vibrated through you. “It’s going to be so pretty, I just know it.”
Changbin simply hummed in agreement, using his free hand to tug your hat further down your head and adjusting your scarf to sit snugly around your neck.
A person, who you could only assume to be the coordinator of the event, stood in front of the crowd to give a brief history of the lighting ceremony, as well as a few words of thanks and well wishes for the holidays, before encouraging the crowd to join them in a countdown for the lighting of the tree.
“Five! Four! Three! Two! One!”
On cue, the massive tree was suddenly bathed in twinkling lights as shimmering ornaments made themselves known hanging along the branches; the crowd erupting into loud cheers and whistles as music filled the air once more.
You were right - the tree was prettier than you could have ever imagined, but it barely compared to the sight beside you as you turned to look at your boyfriend.
His eyes were shining as bright as the lights on the tree, an expression of pure serenity draped across his soft features that made your heart swell five times its usual size while you actively blinked away tears of happiness.
“Binnie?”
Gaze instantly falling from the tree and dropping to you, he tilted his head in silent acknowledgement for you to continue.
“I love you, sweetheart.”
Whether the blush on his cheeks was from your words or the cold air, it only grew darker when he finally registered your words, turning his head with a playful pout on his lips.
“Ah- You can’t just say that to me out of nowhere!” Despite his defiance, he slipped his arm out of your grasp to tug you into his side, wrapping you in a partial bear hug and resting his cheek against your head, “I love you too, Bunny.”
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✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx
✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!
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imvriix · 2 years
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𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔶 .
summary ;; — johan was charmed by you ever since childhood, even to the point he stayed for you specifically. but when you left, he was eager to earn you back.
featuring + contains ;; — johan liebert × gn! reader, reader seems to have really bad memory lmfao.
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⋆*・゚:     :✧*⋆   ・゚
he had finally found you again, and now he refuses to let you go.
when you first met during childhood, he had simply labelled you as the child of the neighbours next door. him and anna had just been adopted once again, so your parents decided to say hello to the newly moved family. he had no intention of making friends and you were a slightly awkward child, yet your mother encouraged you to get along due to being the same age.
after speaking for a while, he realised it wasn't the best option to have labelled you as some other kid. to put it simple, you were immensely interesting, and you got along easily with the twins. over time, you had eased up around the two.
you were charming and had a gift for making people smile, including himself. he had never even considered genuinely enjoying spending time with someone that wasn't his sister, and he never considered being proven wrong about that either. but of course, you and your stupid constant grin had to come and make things complicated.
he had thought of postponing his foster parents's deaths due to not wanting to move away from you just yet, being able to bare staying in one place as long as you were there. he doubted it was possible to stay in contact if they were to move, so he put up with it.
that was until you, yourself, moved away first. he was angry, although he didn't show it. it was like you were trying to get away from him, even though he had spent all this effort on not killing his foster parents to stay by you.
they were then killed that night.
it was the same night he vowed to always stay by you, even if you tried to leave once again.
and now, years later, he had found you again, and he would make sure you had no intention of running away.
many people would just forget about childhood friends, or obsessions, or whatever you were to him, but he didn't. and he would make sure you didn't either. but now he thought on it, you likely did, his silly little doll was always so forgetful. lucky for you, he was sweet enough to help you out.
he still remembered the time you had giggled and called him sweet for reminding you of something you had forgotten to do. it was a small thing, yet the feelings stirred up from it were anything but.
you were exactly like he had imagined you to be after all this time, only 10x better. your signature smile and melodious yet quiet laughter never dimmed out, they seemed to have gotten even more brighter as the years went. your eyes were warm and still held that charming glow, you had his attention in mere seconds.
he walked up to you, coming off as a polite and kind stranger just talking to new people, as you were. he reminded you of old memories that had been tucked away, though you never had a good memory, did you? perhaps you had seen him in public before, atleast thats what you brushed it off as. you loved mysteries, and the idea of piecing together who this man was made you giddy.
he had been quick to strike conversation, being the only thing on his mind as soon as he had walked into the place.
he had also been quick to lead you to his home.
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levmada · 28 days
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Hi!! What are Erwin, Levi and Hange's favorite seasons/holidays? In canon or modern au, I'm curious to know what you think :)
sure!! :D
also, i’m an american, so i'm sorry i'm not educated on other holidays... 🧍🏻 if someone has thoughts pls pls i'd love to hear
erwin
he’s sooo silly :’) erwin’s favorite holidays are the ones that give him an excuse to dive into history like armistice day or MLK day. if he was more argumentative, then it’d be columbus day for the sake of going around and explaining to literally anyone who will listen how the day is actually very misleading propagandized bullshit. (levi hears him give the same lecture 3 or 4 times throughout the course of the day, but he’s entertained by how passionate he gets :3)
his favorite season would be spring, either canon or otherwise. the start of the year is like an extra kick of motivation and boost of morale for a fresh start. like levi, he appreciates new life blossoming all around (and finds it amusing when levi’s allergies start up hehe).
levi
levi, however, prefers summer.... just because it's warmer and brighter. levi is a simple person with simple desires. he just despises cold weather that bites down to the bone, with dead trees and barren branches that stand so rich and magnificent in the summer months. grey, colorless sky, fog—he hates winter!!
summer is the sheer opposite. the air smells sweet, and it’s usually hot, but he’ll take the most excruciating aboveground heat over one more day in underground “weather”. it was always humid and stunk in “summer”, and in "winter", it was cold enough to freeze to death. and stunk.
as for holiday, he doesn’t have one🤷🏻none really put him in that celebratory mood, or exist as a day(s) that he looks forward to every year.
unless you count his mother's birthday, maybe. he either puts extensive thought and effort into her special day, or if she’s passed away, then it’s terribly bittersweet, but he still looks forward to ruminating on positive memories of her. even if she's not there (or perhaps especially), it's her day.
that is to say, if anyone asks he tells them that christmas is alright since his birthday falls on the same day. yay...
hange
halloween has to be their favorite holiday. not only if they were all grey hair and with creaky knees they would still dress up, and ask moblit to drag them to trick or treat spots... but i think they’d take a tiny bit of solace in it, bc no one bats an eye if you act like a crazy person on this day. it’s not like they feel bad about who they are, but it feels good to belong lol.
and the candy.
and stabbing their pumpkin into a jack o lantern. EVERY year levi has some scornful feedback and EVERY year someone convinces him to give hange pointers but they're always messy😭
their favorite season is summer🥺0 question. they’re high energy like a ballistic missile golden retriever and they love the energy and excitement summer brings.
also in canon, that’s when more expeditions can take place :3
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daisybell17 · 5 months
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Fourth if July — Loki [song fic] {PART 3}
(warning: death‼️)
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Sitting at the bed with the halo at your head Was it all a disguise, like Junior High
Years had gone by since your passing and while Loki wasn’t the same God he once was, he’s living out the simple life. He no longer visited your grave as frequently as he did, which he had forced himself to do, he knew that if he kept wallowing at your grave every other day, it would drain him of life too, which he knows you wouldn’t have wanted.
So as life went on he packed up the house you both built your life on and sold it off, it felt wrong for Loki to live in the walls and room you no longer filled with life, and every corner of that lovely place only brought a sharp pain to his heart, knowing that those moments of love are now but memories in his heart.
Moving into a new cottage just outside Asgard, Loki had built himself his own little life. He had an alter dedicated to you and planted flowers that would blossom in a beautiful garden, all for you.
Besides his princely duties, he started taking care of stray animals. He used to watch you take in all sorts of creatures and it only felt right by him to do as such. Now he truly understood the “why’s” of you and it only made him fall deeper.
Despite all this, he always found himself seeing you in everything he did, almost like you were disguised within the walls, just a moments glance from Loki’s perception. It reminded Loki about how you both were in your early 20s, playing all sorts of silly games and pranking each other every second you got…Oh how he wishes you were here, but alas, you haunted the mind of the mischievous God, disguised to seem real in walls you never entered.
This realisation made Loki breakdown on a random Wednesday morning.
Where everything was fiction, future, and prediction
There was one day Loki had come to visit your grave with a scrapbook in hand. He sat in front of the moss covered stone and held the scrapbook up “I made this for you…it’s been 8 years since you left me my darling…I brought a gift for you”
He opened the scrapbook and faced the pages to your stone “I gathered everything I have learned in the 8 years since your passing…It’s been a long time my Love.” He opens a folded letter, revealing a long paper filled with inked remarks “This was the letter I wrote on the one year anniversary of your passing…”I wish you were here, I wish I was with you. There have been nights where I created false realities in my head, just so I can pretend to have you alive and with me again…I slowly realised that I could dwell in this fictional fantasy forever…or I could change my life, do something right by you…and I’m trying…I really am…I just wish you were here to see that your light shines brighter, even when you’re not with me…I miss you each day my Love, and I will miss you forever…but I must leave fiction and build another future…Please forgive me for moving on so quick, but I know you never wanted me to be dwelling in pain for so long…Missing you does not pain me, it allows me to always be reminded of the person who changed my life, who changed their own life, and everything we built - L.L” It was quite a letter hm?” He looks up at your grave, allowing for silence to fill in as he imagines your response.
He continued to flip each page, reading another letter or showing an old picture or miniature gift you had made, the scrapbook is beautiful, Loki knew that if you could hold it, you would read and admire each page for hours.
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(a/n): hello! i wanted to get a part 3 out so here you go!! will definitely follow up with a part 4 and lokius HAPPY headcanons! hope you enjoy thus short update!
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TAGS: @ladychota @scoliobean
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jazzythursday · 7 months
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Hallowed (915 words)
[cw for non-graphic mention of abuse]
The hallowed halls of the mansion were still as death, and Wylan walked through them as if already one of the ghosts. The pristine wallpaper made for a laurel leafed jungle of unknowable dangers, a cemetery of haunted memories. This home was a mausoleum, and yet Wylan could not rest.
It was as if, somewhere between Wylan turning sixteen and eighteen, his father had simply stopped bothering to even pretend to care. Meetings about even his tutoring became few, until none. Awful dinners with shareholders stopped being something he was even asked to go to. Where there had been cold hard slaps and harsh grips and vitriolic shouting and beatings followed by, I do this out of love—I treat you no more harshly than the world will, now there was just… nothing. Love had been factored out of the equation entirely, if ever it was there in the first place. His father went away on business—and recently, pleasure—more often and for longer and longer durations, and Wylan was left like so much disused furniture, like a forgotten and unswept grave.
He should be glad for being ignored, as it was certainly better than the alternative. But Wylan was, if nothing else, consistently foolish and reliably lonely.
They would be back today. Wylan had heard them come in sometime in the last hour, though he hadn’t come to greet them. Alys’ voice had a way of carrying through the air like a flock of birds in the breeze, and Wylan had not missed the barking of her terrier either. They’d been visiting Alys’ parents in the country, and Wylan had not been surprised to not have been invited.
This is important, Wylan, and I do not need you there to ruin such a delicate situation. I’m sure you understand.
Wylan had smiled, and said, of course, father. Had smiled and said, have a lovely trip. Had not been surprised when his father had sighed, and frowned, and smoothed back his hair before leaving without another word.
So, foolish and lonely and longing for more than he knew was fair to ask, he crept through the mansion, out of his room and down the stairs, until Alys’ voice grew louder and brighter in pitch as he reached the sitting room. He didn’t dare to go in yet, but he peeked around the corner to see Alys and his father sitting on one of the plush couches with a tray of tea and cakes made up on the table. Alys was petting her terrier in her lap and chirping happily as his father listened with a soft smile on his face.
It was that smile, and the hand he placed around her shoulders, the way he smoothed her hair back and let out an honest to Ghezen laugh, that perturbed Wylan the most. It was strange and it was ill-suited to the perpetually sour expression he was so used to, and Wylan still did not know what to make of it.
Suddenly, the terrier perked, lifted its head to stare straight at him, and Wylan did not have time enough to panic before the dog started to bark.
“Wylan!” Alys called, spotting him and waving him over. Wylan coughed awkwardly, smoothed his sweaty hands over his trousers, and resigned himself to whatever came of entering the room.
“Good to see you! We missed you at my parents. So sad to hear you were too busy to join us,” Alys cooed.
“You as well, um—yes, I’m—sorry to have missed it,” Wylan said tensely. He was as sorry as he was busy, which was to say not at all, but Alys was simple and silly and Wylan had resolved himself to accepting her guilelessness for her sake, if not his father’s. Finally, he turned. “Hello father, was—was it a nice trip?”
“It was profitable,” Jan replied coolly, and said nothing else to Wylan. Don’t stutter, it’s unbecoming of our name, he might’ve snapped, once, with a raised palm aimed at Wylan and enough force to bruise. But it seemed he’d accepted Wylan as being unbecoming of their name too long ago to bother.
It was an exceptionally Kerch answer, thought Wylan. Profitable, like a trip to the country with one's partner was a sales negotiation or a dividend report.
It was as he broke his father’s gaze and searched desperately for somewhere else to look, that Wylan realised exactly how profitable the trip was.
The diamond ring Alys wore was bright as a shining star, a veritable rock. It stared at Wylan as Alys continued petting her terrier like a siren of light. And perhaps the trip was more akin to a sales negotiation or a dividend report.
Wylan opened his mouth, unsure of what was about to come out of it. Congratulations, surely? Although he didn’t get the chance to find out. His father cleared his throat. “Don’t you have something to be getting on with, Wylan? That infernal music you like so much, or all those studies I keep paying so much for, hm?” He said it in a way that made it clear it was not a question so much as an order to leave.
Wylan nodded, feeling odd and empty but not surprised. “Yes, sir.”
It was spring in Ketterdam now, but his father’s glare was like ice. The harsh, biting cold of an unforgiving winter, and Wylan fought not to shiver. He left the room and wished, not for the first time, that he could disappear.
no I’m not thinking too much about the possibility of show!Wylan living in the mansion for years longer than in the books before meeting the crows. Why do you ask?
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mogwaei · 11 months
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I would like the director's cut of Yin's funky little sidetrip in the Fade during HTLA. Please and thank? 💕
Oooo an olde chapter!! "Chapter 60: Oath to Order" That's a weird one. Okay I shall break it down below a cut! 💚
Let's seeee....well, as you well know, the Nightmare's realm/lair was meant to expose everyone's fears. Yin has a lot of fears lol
So kind of a recap: the poor boyo comes to in the very same dungeon as he woke up at the beginning of Inquisition. But there's someone with him - deep of voice and speaking Antivan, though it becomes clear to Yin that it is not the stranger's native tongue. This is intentionally meant to confuse you - who is speaking? Nightmare...or the other entity from the beginning? Regardless of its identity, there is a very meticulous exchange between the Inquisitor and the Presence. It's trying to get something from Yin, but as it goes with spirits and mortals, both parties must be consenting. For an ancient entity deceiving mortals, this should be no issue.
And it isn't. It gets what it wants almost right away, throwing a red herring later in the conversation. It's so stupid and so simple,
"Allow me to pay you a small kindness. May I help you?"
I liked the idea of it latching onto Yin like this, a seemingly harmless gesture to literally help him sit up. The rest of what follows is just...this entity playing with him because it has already gotten its in.
“I could help you.” < now it's just mocking Yin. Lol gotcha silly elf.
❗[[SPOILERS(?)]]❗: Very quickly it begins to exert its influence on Yin's spirit, searching for seeds of weakness within where it can begin nurturing them. This would be Yin's anger, his fear, and other strong emotions. It's not the strongest influence, it's subtle because this creature is clever and ancient, and it's enough to set Yin on the deteriorating path seen thereafter.
You might wonder why this thing acts like it wants to help him but then proceeds to torment him. Stay tuned 😂
I won't spoil too much more yet, because we're actually going to dissect an aspect of Yin's nightmare in a future chapter (I stg it's mostly all connected, I just take forever to post stuff).
Anyway, whatever this thing is, Nightmare or other, I hope it's becoming a little clearer that this thing is/was searching for something.
But back to Yin's "nightmare":
This scene was a patchwork of timelines, so it's a bit all over the place. Yin slips into thinking that it has already been many years since the defeat of Corypheus. Since he has no reason to suspect a certain ancient rebel to appear, Fen'Harel's return is lacking in this vision. In this world, things got better briefly in the world....and then I tried to imply that Yin got power hungry and fell into a deep delusion that everything he did was for the betterment of the world. A classic tyrant take, really. Yin became the monster, failed everyone he loved, etc. The most important part was really just the beginning of this chapter with Yin vs the Presence :3
Useless sidenotes:
Originally, this scene had nothing to do with a dungeon or Yin being tried as a corrupt leader. In the first scene (draft?) I wrote, it starts out from Yin's pov. He is riding a hart toward a lush forest beside Dorian who is dressed in beautiful robes that are a fusion of Tevinter and Dalish. Yin is nervous, but happier than he's ever been. It changes shortly to Maordrid's pov as she and Solas pursue to save him.
In the next scene, they are walking through a forest, slowly forgetting their present and gaining memories of a much brighter world. They were just coming off of an expedition (can't remember what they were doing) but Solas carries a filthy bottle. Filthy, but it turns out it's actually a rare and expensive wine. He offhandedly laments that this is a paltry gift for their dear friend while Maordrid said something about having lost the other gifts in a cave-in or...robbed? and that Yin will simply be happy they made it for once.
Anyway, turns out they're going to celebrate Yin and Dorian's wedding with the Lavellan clan! 🌸🌼🏵 The illusion over Maordrid's mind is only disturbed when Solas expresses affection (this is prior to the romance) and she's like...wait. And goes through this whole conflict of realising feelings, fighting them, etc. Solas is just so pretty when he's happy. But lol this is the Nightmare realm! I can't remember all the details, except that the clan comes under attack and it's a horrendous bloodbath. There would have been a pov switch back to Yin during this where he still encounters the Presence in the woods (during the slaughter) and probably a Green Knight type of exchange between the two. D:
The reason this didn't stick is because I was writing in Scrivener at the time and the bitche crashed on me, corrupted the file, and I lost the whole thing. What was initially a very long (I think 10k) chapter about a wedding with some t e n s i o n between Mao and Solas was then cut down to the 2,500 words that it is now because I lost the motivation 💀
Thank you so much for asking me about this my dear! Sorry you happened to pick a long-winded one 😂 I figured since you'll probably be one of the only (if the only) people to ask, I'd give you a big director's cut lol💚🍄🌻
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scarletooyoroi · 1 year
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Blossom lips press onto the flush of a cheek, a soft kiss in advance for what Nilou has thought over and over again that one day would happen: departure. It is to be expected from a wanderer, a traveler to explore a world she could never see when multiple anxieties exceed by far whatever excitement would cause to her. Just for this once, she lets herself be selfish, to occupy his mind and linger in it for a little longer. Her hands clasp behind her as she comes down from her tiptoes to look into his eyes. "May you have a good travel." Delicate hands clasp even harder behind her, not for Thoma to see. For selfish as her thoughts and feelings may be, she would wish him the best.
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Not one part of him could’ve foreseen this. His mind was too heavy making these following days shine, to drink in the essence of greed, to allow their moments to become proud, indomitable instances that could center warmth into their beings while casting away the inevitable but all too human aches to follow. In fact the silence they shared, no matter how amiable, carried that tender ache that made his heart twist in ways he’d long since come to accept.
Even then, to think her blessing made by a symbol of affection could briefly tear away that swirl of agony that rests within his belly. A lively beat of the heart kicks within his chest, vitality and happiness blooming at an unprecedented rate as his eyes come to widen, Thoma could only remain while feeling the serenity of her lips briefly shadowed by the ticklish brushes of her scarlet tresses. A single hand found itself braced upon her forearm in that moment, holding no shame in requiring this much needed support as he’s left breathless by such a decisive move to tear away the encroaching ice.
Similar to the festive fireworks that would draw manmade stars across Teyvat’s skies, it was short, so lovingly short and brief before the warmth of her body is replaced by anemo laden air that feels a touch too silly. When she retracts, his eyes follow, leading him to a view that would be burned as a vigil and shining memory amidst his hardest days.
The sun amidst Sumeru’s valleys of gleaming jade and enriched life would be the framing for the sight of her, how light casts veils of glimmer upon her skin, and the way how her countenance pierces the view with those beloved irises aquamarine. His heart found itself thrust into such a complicated feeling, childishness, selfishness, responsibility, that secretive calling that burned the fires to venture forth in his body and soul. A complex web all in the simple thought of keeping by her side, continuing his journey, and the reality that sacrifice was inevitable in some fashion left a potent heaviness to settle inside of him.
Thoma would proudly carry that weight.
“Nilou.” Her name was ambrosia upon the lips, compelling himself to step forth, to allow the burning visage of himself carrying his convictions settle vibrantly in the side before her. Despite the fire within those jade eyes, the tenderness of his smile reflects her sentiment, how the pain of momentary parting, how the reality tucked in future dangers, trials and the vast unknown would work feverishly in the attempt to shake the faith of them reuniting.
The last thing he refuses to forge or even tempt the possibility of was a future where they wouldn’t cross again. Finality within this situation would be the brashness of damning all they’ve made together.
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“I couldn’t thank the world enough for being able to meet you.” Reassurance would ignite brighter certainty within his tone. “And the many more days we’ll come to share down the line. I give you my word that we will meet again.” It was a new resolution tempered by the fires of newly given loyalty, and the righteous determination that she will see the same, but improved Thoma somewhere in the beautiful unknown called the future. “And with many more stories for you to learn, some that may even sound like fairy tales in real time--”
Wouldn’t that be a sight? To find a level of spectacle in a realm where the Elements, great beings of power, where many fantastical visages could hide rarity even amidst those folds. Thoma had a feeling such a legend or myth would have an inevitable crossing with him at some point.
After all, with the way this mysterious calling echoes within his chest, an inspiration to Ascend leading his fiery nature to protect into the unknown, it may be inevitable.
As irrational as this feeling may be, in many ways, it feels like Teyvat as a whole would need him alongside of many others.
A swell of emotion however would inevitably cling itself onto his heart. All other thoughts were dashed as the hidden tension of actually having to go attempts to stall as the final barrier. Goodness did the idea of actually pausing for a longer strand sounds like a beautiful dream, for them to share many more days now compared to the future. As the welcomed ache wrench into the nooks and crannies of the heart, he’d lean in, a single hand reaching forward in order to dash away some of her crimson bangs, all for his lips to return the sentiment, pressing a soft kiss upon the forehead of the heavenly dancer. Sweet, and all too brief as he parts soon after.
Only then would he fight through the turmoil to step back, another, one more for good measure, the agony of it all written clear upon his face despite the supportive curve of lips that he sports. “See you soon. Never let the efforts of your heart stop shining the way they do.”
Turn Thoma. It’s time.
Only with great reluctance than act so naturally simple on one hand, so insurmountably hard on another be finally performed. Her visage would be eclipsed by the boundless entirety of Sumeru once again. ..This something, a desire that finds itself finding purpose in making things a little bit brighter, a touch more safer, it was time to further hone that reason once again.
He walks, for that reason.
Thoma walks with the warm thoughts of her safe future as well.
@haftkarsvar
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fallesto · 2 years
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❛ when did you know you loved me ? ❜ ( for KYOJURO OH MY GOD PLEASE )
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How do you know? When your heart yearns for someone, when it beats for not only yourself, but for them as well. When you know things have changed. When it has become more than just friendship, when it has become something else altogether. How do you know, what love is? How do you know that feeling, when your heart beats for so many other people? When you love each and every single person. When your heart beats for the people. When you loved everyone the same, equally and unconditionally and treated them with care, with respect and with love in everything you did no matter what it might be.
So how did you know what was different? When something has changed within yourself? And your heart was beating in another way for someone close to you?
How do you know if something has changed? You just knew it. in how you felt, how you spoke, how you looked upon the person as well. He knew things had changed between them, quickly as well. A spark that had just spread and poured from his heart, but from all the little moments to single the one out when he knew. That was rather simple wasn’t it? “Well…” He would rub the back of his head a little bit.
As he could feel the heat on his face. To speak honest and true and to have such a question presented to him as well. There was no point in trying to say anything that the love pillar herself would have told him to say, as he would just speak from the only place that mattered. From the heart and tell her nothing more than the truth. “When we first meet one another…” As he would smile. A fond memory, his first shared with her as well. The one that he favoured most of all as well, a meal that was just, full of smiles, full of laughter, full of…love. And nothing had come close to that first meeting, the bar had been set there and then,
It sounded silly a little bit. Maybe to others, maybe, but not to him. As that was how he felt. As he stood over her and leaned down and pressed the tips of his fingers into her forehead. To see that strength and to see someone who was like him. Who had gone above and beyond for others and laid her life down, to feel his heart being pulled a little as he watched her struggle to breathe for only a single moment and nothing else. To overcome her fears and weakness and really, truly, shine brighter than anyone else he had ever seen before.
“I just knew, then…” As the smile would spread a little bit more as well. That moment, that night, the days that followed as he carried her on his back. To sit and share his first meal with her and then carry her across the country and back to his home as well. It was. Something. It was something that was, just…special. He knew it even then and he really knows it now. As he just kept his eyes lowered for only a little bit more before looking back up at her once more. It was the first time his eyes have locked onto her own, it was the first time he had pressed his fingers into her forehead. It was the first time he heard her speak, seen her cry, heard her laugh and seen her smile. The first time he had carried her on his back and then in his arms as well.
“And I really know now.”
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ink-stained-words · 2 years
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It's strange, feeling so safe around someone.
Trusting them not to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. I don't trust anyone, not really.
It's hard. I'm scared of losing control of situations, of not being able to anticipate someone's actions. Unpredictability scares me.
I wouldn't go as far as saying you're predictable, but I know, with absolute certainty, that you'd never do anything to hurt me. Even as simple as getting mad and yelling. I trust you.
But safe is more than falling asleep on the couch with someone. It's a feeling, something warm and heavy in your soul. Certain and definitive and clear.
Being a part of your life feels natural, like the months of inside jokes and traditions and packages and letters and conversations and late nights and friendship songs mean something.
Like they all come together to make this bright mosaic of memories and time and lore. Colors and light and life. Stained glass, set in stone, truth of the universe. We're best friends, and that means something, more than 3rd graders exchanging bracelets.
You matter to me, quite a lot. You said once that you’d both die & kill for me, which I found quite funny, but I think I might get it. 
If we were characters in some book, I wouldn’t let you be sacrificed to the plot. I blame you for the fact that the first example coming to mind is Percy & Annabeth, falling into Tartarus. I wouldn’t let go of your hand. In no universe would I let go of your hand. 
It’d be shitty and awful, but life’s like that anyway, and it’s better when you’re a part of it.
Plus, spooky sleepovers! In hell. Admittedly. But it's still a vibe, I'd just annoy you by singing Lilli Furfaro songs to fill the silence.
The world always makes it feel like there's a set limit, to how much friends can matter to each other. As if there's a limit as to how much you can love someone.
Loveless is one of my favorite books because it tells the entire world to fuck itself, because yeah, friendships are the fucking best. Fairytale endings aren't just romantic, sometimes it's shoving two beds together and leaving them there.
Sometimes it's driving hours for one night of Over the Garden Wall and a silly little reality show and very comfy blankets and an even comfier best friend.
Sometimes it's looking at stars and laughing at stupid jokes, or watching a movie at a pride event, or crashing a few holiday vacations because we really do need more sleepovers.
Sometimes it's just meeting someone and making a place for them in your life, and deciding that it matters.
Even if it feels like I've known you for forever, I know I haven't. But it feels natural, being a part of your life. Not because of fate or destiny, but because we know each other.
We're best friends because we decided it was important that we knew each other, and there's no limit to it. We're best friends, but that doesn't mean I can't still learn more about you.
Doesn't mean I don't feel even more safe and at peace talking to you, listening to you, being around you with every sleepover and meetup.
Because that's how life works. Growing with people, building a life and a family and a home that you can choose, that feels safe.
Letting go of some of the dark things, even if they were a comfort for a while. Replacing them with brighter things, with light.
With nice words and pinned messages and promises.
I'm not sure where I was going with this. I probably have infinitely more to say about it. There's always more thoughts.
But I love you. That's probably the point.
I love you, and I hope your life feels a bit different now. Less empty and dark and unbearable. I hope there's some light now.
That's what I mean, when I say you're bright. You fill the dark corners. I'm less scared of silence, because I know it isn't permanent.
There's always you.
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theaterism · 3 years
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on sunny days at the mansion, their father would sometimes trap a simple noise in a jar — like the chime of a bell, or the buzz of bees — and then release the colored ribbon of sound in the garden for the children to chase. as soon as he removed the lid, the ribbon leapt from the jar and darted away over the grass and flowers. the kids, laughing, raced after it. it always faded in less than a minute, of course, and it always slipped through their fingers if they managed to reach close enough to touch it — their father was the only one who could truly grasp the ribbons — but they nonetheless enjoyed chasing it to see who could come closest to “catching” it.
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felswritingfire · 3 years
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(Hades) Gods x Shade! Reader
No matter how much you try, mortality will always catch up to those who are not of gods. Even the most blinded of them learn this eventually. You take your death with grace, choosing to go and explore this new world as soon as Lord Hades permits you to go, impressed by how little you complain and demand. You are one of the brighter parts of his day (night?).
You drift along, catching certain snippets of other Shade’s conversations as you wander aimlessly. You notice a crack in the wall; deciding to muster up your courage, you slip through it to find yourself in the glowing green torches of Tartarus. With what little you have, you hold it close to your translucent body and push forward.
You’re quick to notice the large glowing ball with an oddly familiar symbol floating in the middle of it. You take your time circling it, feeling compelled to touch it. When you do, a beam of light comes slicing through the dreary air to reveal a mighty god who stares down at you at your shocked form...
Zues
Cause of Death: Lightning Strike
Zues is confused when he sees you. He’s even more confused when you start screaming at him, waving your hands about and threatening to fight him yourself.
“You fucker! You killed me!”
He raises a brow. “I think I’d remember if I killed you.” You flipped up your middle finger at him and his eyebrows drew into an angry v. “How rude! I am the God of Gods-”
“I don’t care!”
Zagreus had to high tail it to you before Zues tried to smite you (possibly a second time).
Suffice to say you hoped you’d never bump into that boon again. And you didn’t. No, the God of Gods and Lightning himself decided that he’d have to make a house call himself (Hades was not pleased when a bolt of lightning came crashing down and left a scorched black ring in the carpet).
He picks you out quickly and you try to zoom out of the lobby until he catches you by the back of your robe and then you’re swinging and yelling profanities at him. He’s kinda amused now instead of angry- you’re just so weak and tiny compared to him. It’s hysterical- ow! Did you just bite him?
After you and Zues finish your little “spitting match”- Hades kicks Zeus out and you're forced to hang out in Tartarus for a bit (“but I’m just a simple fisherfolk! I can’t fight anything!” You cry, Hades does not spare you a look as you're dragged out by Meg).
You think maybe that’s the end until you’re approached by a… a squirrel? You almost punt it when his voice spills out as he shoots into a long prattle about how much of a jerk Hades was and how he couldn’t handle someone as grandiose as him appearing before him. Threatened him as a god or something- you were busy trying to figure out how you were going to kill this guy and make sure he stayed dead.
Turns out, after the two of you chattered (argued) a bit about whether or not he actually killed you, Zeus had some neat stories about the gods.
While you were interested in his children’s and brothers’ and sisters’ stories, he was interested in your stories of the mundane. A simple fisherfolk? That was a word? You just fished and traded? Amazing! Tell him more!
After this particular interaction between the two of you, Zeus really ended liking you. Maybe a little too much, but, aw well, it wasn’t everyday a mortal soul had the balls to argue with him for something he doesn’t remember doing (he probably did. Probably. Most likely). He swore that he’d come and see you everyday as he sat on your shoulder as a squirrel, going on and on about how you should feel blessed to be praised by one such as he. You were about to throw him until a giant hand came out and grabbed him (seemed you drifted too close to Lord Hades’ desk), the hulking god flinging him out of a portal.
He continues to pop up and bother you and, to be honest, he’s kinda growing on you. Also, I’m gonna be frank and lay it out that, if he likes you enough, he’s probs gonna want to smash, especially if you lean more towards the feminine side (he’s fucking AWFUL). It’s up to you if you wanna indulge that or not, I don’t recommend it, but you can if you really want to.
We’re going with the option you don’t smash- he’ll be salty at you for a whole ass day before he comes back the one after that as a rat (Hades kept finding out his forms that he used to sneak in so it was an ever constant menagerie of appearances to keep up the disguise) and is like: “I thought you would miss me too much so I came back before you could even complain.”
Zag likes to watch the two of you interact because he finds it absolutely fascinating. It’s like watching… He doesn’t know what it’s like but he’s having a blast as you roast his uncle to bits. It really helps him out when he’s feeling a bit down after failing getting out one too many times.
When you first get Zeus an Ambrosia, he thinks it’s poison and then he gets all prideful because of course you would give him an offering, he was the strongest of all the gods! Him and him alone!
“Silly, mortal, you cannot poison me! I am a god.”
You squint your eyes at him before you huff and pull the bottle closer to you. “Fine, whatever, I’ll just give it to Zagreus- or better yet, Hades if you don’t want it.”
“No! No! I want it! Give it to me! It’s mine!”
During this time, he’s actually experiencing some purer emotions in life- he’s genuinely giddy that you got him the Ambrosia and asks how you got it. You hold up a makeshift fishing rod and grin at him, telling him you snatched it from some nasty shades before you wandered back down to Tartarus.
His gift to you is a little lightning pin that, when you're in danger, will send a nasty bolt of lightning down on your enemies. You wonder what good it’ll do since you’re dead already, but shrug and accept it, thinking that he looks years younger and friendler when his smile isn’t packed full of ego and pride.
Poseidon
Cause of Death: Drowning
Poseidon, Lord of the Oceans, Earthquakes, and many other things, is simply- how do you say? Amused? It’s the best way to describe it at least. Of course he was mostly surprised when he appeared expecting the Little Hades to be waiting for him just to meet a Little Shade in his place.
“Why, hello there, Little Shade! You wouldn’t happen to know where the Little Hades is, would you?”
You shake your head, he doesn’t miss the way you nervously play with your hands, drifting back as some of his droplets float close to you.
He laughs at your simple reply. “Shy one aren’t you?” He leans closer to you, squinting and running a hand through his beard while he hummed.
You fight the urge to take a step back, the smell of salt water making your stomach churn.
His eyes flutter shut as he takes a deep breath. He takes a moment before he opens his eyes again and a look of understanding flashes across his eyes. “You drowned. Didn’t you?”
You stare up at him, eyes round and glassy. You nod.
Before your conversation can go any further, Zagreus comes running through the window, surprised to see his Uncle talking to a Shade (you look so scared- he hopes that you aren’t being bullied). You’re quick to take your leave bowing to both and passing the boon to the Prince before you scurry away into the cover of the other Shades.
He hums to himself, a cryptid smile on his face as his eyes follow after you. Such a strange little thing you were- he wouldn’t mind seeing you again.
It takes a bit, but he does happen to see you again, by peaking through a fountain in a fountain room in the Underworld. He spies you trying to poke at the water that he happened to choose, but jumping back each time. You face scrunched up into one of pure frustration. He asks if you’re doing alright there, Little Shade? Causing you to flash out of existence for a moment before settling back down and looking into the pool with wide eyes. Posiedon almost busts a gut with how hard he’s laughing and you huff telling him that it wasn’t funny.
He says otherwise, but asks what you’re doing. When your face bursts into a large blush you mumble something that he doesn’t quite catch and he’s left with more questions than answers as you take the chance to phase out of the chamber when Zag walks in and steals his Uncle’s attention for a split second. He furrows his brow before asking his nephew about you, which Zag, surprisingly, supplies rather quickly, seeing as the two of you talk a lot: apparently you’re deathly afraid of water after you were thrown into the ocean by your supposed best friend. The memories of the waves crushing you deeper and deeper beneath them sticking with you even in death. So, you were trying to curb that phobia. Posiedon nods, letting the words sink in before he offers the Little Hades a thumbs up and says he’ll help with that.
The next time you see the god, he’s eager to call you over and explain that he’s figured out what you were doing last time and offers to let you mess with some of the drops of water that follow him wherever he goes. You stare at them, eyebrows furrowed and looking just as sick as a shade could look. Yet, you still nod your head and hold out a shaky hand. He smiles at you, praising you for your courage and flicks one towards you; it floats gently before it rests serenely on your palm, allowing you to feel the cool sensation of the droplet. You marvel at it, still shaking with an anxiety before you nod. He pulls it away, it shoots back to rest next to his head and you thank him for going out of his way to help you and ease your fears.
He remarks that you should fear the water out of respect: it’s unpredictable, terrifying in it’s own right- vast and, seemingly, never ending, what could possibly be more terrifying than the unknown, hm? He continues to say that you should also hold onto a bit of bravery at the very least, for untold treasures come from there for those who look.
After that conversation, Poseidon makes it a habit of having you hold onto his droplets of water, making them slightly bigger each time for you to get used to them.
By the time you’re able to touch them freely without experiencing crippling fear- the droplets are almost the size of you. Poseidon praises you the more you grow out of your fear.
You do eventually open up to him about how you died and he never tells you that he already knew. Just allows you to talk in a soft voice as you recall it. It’s a nice bonding experience for the both of you and Posideon decides that you’re his favorite Shade and he’ll treasure you for as long as you exist.
The first time you get him a bottle of Ambrosia, you come to him shivering and sopping wet. He’s confused and concerned as he hovers to you.
“What happened to you, Little Shade? Are you alright?”
It takes you a moment to be able to speak. “I- I found a bottle of Ambrosia. I thought-” you take a deep breath, holding out the bottle with both hands- “I thought you’d like it.”
It’s one of his prized possessions now, he takes little sips of it once in a while, but other than that it remains as one of his most precious memories. He’s very attached to you at this point and you’ll forever have his blessing. His gift to you, aside from the undying loyalty, is a shell necklace, if you ever need him- you only need to whisper his name to it and he’ll appear in an instant.
Athena
Cause of Death: Exhaustion
Athena had been prepared to meet with Zagreus- not a curious shade staring back up at her with all the relevance of one of her worshippers.
“What business do you have with me?”
She raises her brow at your gobsmacked expression, watching as you screw your face up before bowing. “Apologies, m’lady, I only happened to bump into your…” you look at where it glows, furrowing your eyebrow, “your orb?”
“Boon.”
You nod your head in understanding before bowing your head again. “Again, my sincerest apologies.”
Luckily, she didn’t smite you, instead asking the question of how you were even talking to her. Getting a shrug from you, you say that maybe it’s because you worshipped her (unofficially, you were never able to make it up to her shrine much to your disappointment) when you were alive- maybe a deeper bond is there compared to someone who had never prayed to her for her protection and guidance.
When she hears this, she’s very interested, pressing you to elaborate further when the Young Prince comes jogging out of the glowing window, waving to you. You slink away, passing the boon to him and bowing to her once again before you disappear into the mass of Shades that choose to wander their new home as well.
After the conversation, you had caught the Goddess’ attention, planting a desire in her to see you again. Even going as far as to write a letter to ask her uncle for a council with you after a week passed of her placing her boon in Tartarus so that maybe you would drift too close to it once again. But each time only the little prince would find them (which she was fine with, but it still left such an unflattering taste of defeat on her tongue each time it wasn’t you). She figured it would be a moot point to send the letter, but it was worth a try.
But she decided to place her boon down once more before she sent it out. Just to try. And this time it worked.
You were the one she saw and she was absolutely delighted- not that she showed it, choosing to keep her stoic and sharp expression. You greet her in a similar way before: awed before bowing your head to her. You continue to go on about how you're happy to see her again and, despite how little you had been buried with, you hoped that she would take this- a broken sword, despite the worn hilt and the deep scars the littered what was left of the flat of the balde; it was still polished (at least what was left of it)- as a proper offering to her for all she had done in your life- even if it truly wasn’t all her doings.
She takes the sword in her hand, holding it high, her eyes shining as she studies it: truly, it was a warrior’s blade. She watches as the history and memories flash in the smooth iron. She remarks that it is a remarkable offering, but she cannot accept it. It feels wrong taking a weapon of a warrior such as yourself.
You smile as her, shaking your head, urging her to take it, for you didn’t need that blade in this afterlife. You had already fought your battles, killing the man who you had been battling with and quelling the rage that had followed you since you were a child for revenge. Eventually, dying from the strain of the fight with a feeling of contentedness.
Athena raises her brow, remarking how that sounded more along the lines of Ares rather than her.
You nod, but say that you couldn’t help but desire her help for she was the goddess attached to your favorite animal. She had to fight the urge to laugh, a shaky smile slipping through as she nods at you. Such a silly thing you are. She decides that she’ll take the sword as a reminder of you, no matter where you should go now. She also decides that you were forming a rather soft cradle in her heart.
After this, she is quick to ask Zagreus about you every chance she gets- not that he minds too much, he tells her about how you’ve been helping him train and you’ve even told him about your life when you were alive (“a general, can you believe that? They’re so young!” Zagreus says as he shows her the new move you taught him). She’s only the slightest bit miffed at hearing that you and Achilles have begun to form a sweet friendship. She’s pleased to hear that his father has been trying to barter with you to get you into Elysium, though she’s a tad confused on the reason you refuse to.
She asks you about it one day and you say that it would take longer to see her and you would prefer to avoid that. It was the only time the goddess has ever had to fight down a blush.
When you get her a bottle of Ambrosia, she’s in pure awe at the huge bottle.
“How did you get one this big?”
You lean against the new sword you managed to get your hands on- something simple and obviously used- you offer her a lopsided grin. “Well, not just any Ambrosia would work, so I decided to try my luck with Lord Theseus and, The Great Bull, Asterius. Took me a couple of tries but I managed to beat them and snag it.”
Athena smiles warmly at it, telling you that she’ll treasure it and think of you every time she takes a drink of it. She realizes in that moment just how important you had become to her, never feeling this… soft for a mortal soul in her life. Her gift to you is a shield and a new sword: the shield bares her symbol of an owl while the sword was ornate with a divine glow. She promises that no matter what they’ll protect you and so will she, you only need to call out her name.
Aphrodite
Cause of Death: A Broken Heart
When the Goddess of Love first sees you- she thinks you’re absolutely gorgeous (of course not as gorgeous as her). The sad look in your eye and the slight frown that rests on your lips makes her almost fall in love right then and there.
“Hello, little one- do you know where the little godling is?”
You shake your head. “I’m sorry, Lady Aphrodite. I know not where he is.”
She raises her brows, a smile on her face. “How did you know I was Aphrodite, my dear?”
You look up at her, a sudden glint in your eyes has her yearning to see it once again. “No one else could be so breathtaking, my Lady.”
Oh. Oh, she likes you.
She chooses to chatter away with you- despite you mostly listening, adding little things here and there, she feels a strange sense of fullness, like she just ate a full and warm meal for the first time in a very long time, by the time Zagreus arrives. You bid your farewell and she can’t help but follow you with her gaze as your transparent form blends in with the other Shades.
Aphrodite is thrilled the next time she runs into you- or rather you run into her boon. She missed the melancholy look in your eyes, she also doesn’t miss the fact that you’ve come bearing gifts this time: an assortment of colorful flowers rests in your arms and you offer it to her. That glint coming and going like a shooting star as she accepts the offering, holding it up to her nose to take in their sweet scent. How sweet were you to hand her something so delicate.
She asks you where you got them and you remark that you made your way up to Elysium. She’s surprised to hear as such- you didn’t seem like the warrior type. You shake your head, your eyes sweeping low. You weren’t a warrior, far from it- a simple florist if anything. You just drifted until you made it up there and plucked some flowers to make bouquets. You mumble that maybe you’ll be more useful in death.
She tilts her head at the comment, beginning to ask until Zagreus is jogging up to the both of you and it was time for you to leave. She’s a tad annoyed, but reminds herself that the little godling didn’t know- simply trying to break out of this dreary place he calls home and see Olympus in all its glory. She’ll just ask next time.
You gave her another bouquet, this one more beautiful than the last, when she gets the chance to ask you her question. Your eyes pool with a mournful look as you gaze up at her, your hand resting over the place where your heart used to beat as you look to the ground. You explain that you were young when you were wed- just as you were young when you died. You were married off to someone you did not love- someone awful, vile, who beat you down daily just to build you back up so they could laugh when they toppled you over once again. You remark about how you could feel yourself dying little by little, your delicate heart bleeding as your want for life began to dwindle away. You grew sick and you would sit by the window day in and day out, staring out and wondering what your life could have been if you were married to someone you loved. A ghost of a smile blooms on your lips as you look up at her, that glint she oh-so loved twinkling in your eye as you say that you did not die in as much loneliness and pain as you could have; having been making a bouquet dedicated just to her love and sweetness: your Lady Aphrodite who you love, ever so much.
She’s shocked when she realizes the tears that drip down her cheeks, her hand coming to caress your cheek (really your head, she was hulking compared to your small form) with her fingertips. She comments that she would accept every bouquet you made and treasure each flower like it was the one you made for her with your last breaths in the living world.
After that interaction, she comes down a lot more, asking Zagreus if he could bring along her darling florist so that she could talk to you. He always obliges, loving to see the two of you chatter about (well, her chatter about, you usually just listened with a smile on your face as you used the flowers you had plucked into flower crowns for him and Lady Aphrodite). You two become a sort of comfort for him when he’s getting frustrated: seeing your usually melancholy demeanor light up as soon as the goddess appears and in turn the goddess becomes something less vain and more gentle as she speaks to you.
At some point, you’ll probably meet Ares himself- the two never that far from each other, also she adores you, so it only makes sense for you to meet him. He’s honestly a tad unimpressed when you first meet, but when he hears about the heart ache you faced he gains a sense of respect for you, remarking that love is a battle in and of itself and you fought valiantly to keep your ability to love freely (Aphrodite might convince you to have a threesome, I’m not gonna lie, she’s attracted to you on a deep level and she has her trysts with Ares- it’s perfect in her eyes. Though she won’t push you if you don’t desire it).
When you first get her Ambrosia, she’s flabbergasted before it turns into worry for how you got it and the potential danger you were in.
She takes the bottle of gold liquid and the flowers that you had so carefully arranged. Her attention, though, is focused on the said bottle of Ambrosia. “My Darling Florist, how did you get this?” Before you can answer she shoots into a flurry of questions. “Are you alright? Did anything catch you? Hurt you? You don’t seem hurt. Oooh-” she puffs her cheeks out, her gaze sharp- “why did you get me this? It’s dangerous!”
You wait for her to calm down. “I apologize for making you worry, but I simply snuck around and grabbed it from some witches- they didn’t even notice me. And I-” you tap your fingers together, a blush blooming across your face as you look away from the goddess and she decides that she craves seeing that expression on you again- “I thought that you deserved it. It’s a much better offering than my silly bouquets.”
Well, aside from the ‘silly bouquets’ comment (which she corrects you on very quickly), she’s absolutely flattered and it might be the final nail in the coffin that has her falling for you, the little shade in front of her. She decides that you hold a piece of her heart in your translucent hands, though she chooses to keep that information to herself.
Her gift to you is a hairpin that matches hers, though if you don’t have enough hair- she says, you can always pin it to your robe. It’s a blatant claim on her part, but it also helps ease the residual heartache that followed you into death. And, hopefully (a personal hope of her), each time you look at it, you’d fall deeper and deeper in love with her as well.
Artemis
Cause of Death: Arrow to the Heart
She’s confused when she sees you, quick to voice her confusion as well. Also depending on if you're more feminine or masculine (and I don’t mean woman or man, I just mean how you present yourself), she will treat you differently depending. So, for now, we’re gonna go with the more “feminine” option:
“Who’re you?”
You bow. “An honor to meet you, Lady Artemis, I seem to have bumped into that orb on accident. Wasn’t sure what it did and the curiosity got the better of me.”
She hums, she perks when she notices your bow. “You’re a hunter?”
You smile, holding it out to her. “Yes, indeed, my Lady- I prayed to you a lot.” You laughed, adding. “Hoped to join your hunters when I was young.”
She’s quite happy to hear that and begins to chatter along with you. For some reason feeling oddly at ease around you. It’s probably because you were a fellow hunter but she simply can’t help the way she grows an odd sort of… adoration? Something like that, she thinks- for you. She almost laments the fact when Zagreus comes to get the boon.
You nod to him, biding your farewell to the Goddess and passing the boon to the Prince. She doesn’t miss how Zagreus’ eyes shine as you walk away. She almost comments on it but bites her tongue, wanting to observe the prince and the dreamy look that drifts over his features, even as you disappear.
The next time the two of you meet, she asks if she can see you in action. You agree and search up ahead to find something to demonstrate your skills on. You’re quick to find a few Numbskulls. She watches as you take a deep breath, your eyes narrowing on your unassuming targets and your footsteps become silent as you skirt closer to them. You nock an arrow, never looking away. Her eyes gleam with thrumming adrenaline at the way the muscles in your arms tense as you draw the string back. The low groan of the wood barely above a whisper as you wait for them to line up. You hold your breath, releasing the arrow- it goes through all three of them, making them break into dust in a consecutive line, a harrowing scream being wretched from them as they fade from existence. You release the breath you were holding and stand, sending a smile to the young goddess whose eyes shine with stars.
She praises you for your amazing skill and sings of your prowess. You shake your head, looking down at the ground as you argued that you were but a simple bow folk in your living life. Nothing more, nothing less.
She begs to differ! That type of skill only belongs to those of her highest ranking huntresses! She continues to gush about you until Zag comes up and, once again, greets the both of you. That dreamy look coming over his face as he looks at you. She watches as you once again disappear into Tartarus, this time though, after you’re gone, she turns to her cousin and shoots into a tangent about why he had never told her about you before and where did you come from? She has to know!
He answers all of her questions to the best of his abilities but there are even some he doesn’t know about, for example: how you died.
Artemis accepts this and decides that she’ll just ask you the next time the two of you meet.
And, true to her word, she does. She asks you point blank and you can’t help but be slightly taken aback. You laugh softly, leaning on your bow as you begin to recount that you were traversing her forest, as you had done many times before, and noticed fresh foot prints of man. You decided that it would be a good idea to look and you found hunters trying to kill her Golden Stag. You had dove in as quickly as you could, shooting one- the arrow sailing in a clean arch through his wrist before he could let loose his arrow. But as you went to nock another arrow- a searing pain in your chest and heart. You looked down to see blood pooling around your robes, dying the olive green of your cloak a wine red. You remember the last thing you saw was the Golden Stag running away. You smiled telling her that you were happy he got away- you don’t know what you’d do if he had been captured despite your effort.
Artemis suddenly remembers that day: her stag rushing to her and urging her to follow him- he bounded through the forest, frantic and panicked. When they got to a clearing, she was quick to notice the blood and the drag marks of a body. Her stag pressed his nose to the ground sniffing at the pool of blood, his eyes watering and bulbous tears slid down his muzzle. It suddenly made sense. You were the one he was mourning for.
She couldn’t help but grab your hands, resting her forehead against the back of them; thanking you for protecting her stag when she couldn’t. You smile at her, bowing your head to her and thanking her for the countless hunts she went on with you. You pull your hands away from her and hold out your bow to her. She asks what you think you're doing in a watery voice and you say it’s an offering. You couldn’t give much when you were alive and you still can’t give much now, but, this bow- it shall treat her right.
She sniffles as she takes it, trying to hold in tears. She vows to treasure it for all of time as she admires the worn wood.
That day, the two of you became closer as comrades, she would actively come down to say hi to you (and encourage Zagreus to take the leap and court you after she learned of his growing affections for you). The two of you would talk about everything you could think of, explaining how your hunting styles differed or how you could set a trap easier. She had realized that she had never felt this carefree with anyone before. She felt like a child. It felt nice.
When you snag her a bottle of Ambrosia- she’s swaddled in a whirlwind of emotions.
“You… You got this for me?” She asks as she takes the bottle of golden liquid.
You nod, that gentle smiling spreading across your face. “Of course. You had helped me so many times- it is only fair, my Lady-”
“Artemis-” she sniffled, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles- “call me Artemis, my friend.”
She finds you to be a perfect friend- a breath of fresh air from home. She may not feel any romantic feelings towards you, but she still holds you in a dear place in her heart. Her gift to you is a new bow and quiver that will never run out of arrows. The bow is enchanted and you’ll never have to fear it breaking for it will protect you for as long as you exist- in this realm or another.
Ares
Cause of Death: Blood Loss
When Ares first sees you, he is… well- he’s impressed that you stumbled upon his boon, but at the same time… He’s a tad miffed? That you found it?
At the very least he’s condescending as all hell about it:
“What is this? A little lamb came to beg me for power? How foolish. No matter how hard you struggle you will never be much more than some little shade.”
“Ah, sorry, my Lord! Didn’t mean to bump into it!” You hold up the basket in your translucent arms, “I wanted to see if I could find some new ingredients to bake with! I do oh-so miss it, sir.”
Well, he wasn’t expecting that.
He ends up allowing you to chatter on with him despite his obvious judgement on your, what he calls, “soft mortal hobby” until Zagreus comes to do his daily try of breaking out from the Underworld.
As he watches you drift away (after passing the boon and giving words of good luck to the Prince, who happily takes it), he kinda hopes to see you again
And see you again he does! He literally sees you the next day- night? Whatever, he’s never sure when he drops a boon in there- it’s damn dark-
He’s presented with a basket of treats and your gleeful greeting as you chatter that you found ingredients to make some Baklava and you thought that, maybe, he’d like to try it?
He smiles- cruel and sharp- and asks if you truly think that this is a fit offering for a god such as himself?
You shrug, saying he doesn’t have to eat it if he doesn’t want to
He laughs and takes it and you two are off chattering again: him regaling you with his war stories and you of the ingredients you had (somehow) found down here until Zag shows up, once again, the boon is passed to him (this time along with a slice of the delicious, warm Baklava. Which, he’s confused on what it is but he finds out very quickly that it’s his favorite treat).
The two of you talk a lot, which Ares is pleasantly surprised about, usually he’s the scorn of everyone- not that he cares, it causes conflict and he likes that. But you’re so calm and sweet that he just can’t get a rise out of you. Which, on one hand, pisses him off to no end, but, on the other, it’s such a nice change of pace for him. He’s used to the bloodshed and animosity of battlefields- the iron tinged air that follows after the warriors that traverse those fields. And yet, here you are: a shade that always has a treat for him when you run into him and the smell of warm sweetness wafting after you.
So when he learned exactly how you died- he was absolutely floored.
“How did you die, little baker?” He asked one day, fiddling with his knife, tilting it discreetly so that your reflection was in it.
“Oh!” You smiled sheepishly, glancing away from him and placing the bag of flour (how did you even get that? He’d have to ask you next) back into your basket. “Well- you see, I bled out.”
He raised his eyebrow, suddenly very interested. “How? You’re so…” he tilted his head and flipped his knife so that the blade pointed at him and the hilt pointed at you, he poked your arm with said hilt. “Soft.”
“Well…”
You explain that you had a little brother who had a nasty habit of getting into trouble- he was a good person, just made foolish choices- and this time, it had cost you your life. He had pissed off the wrong person and, well, when the man had attempted to grab your brother when the two of you were out walking the stalls on your break- you did the only thing you could think of: you fought.
Of course it went horribly, you’ve never been in a fight before then and, despite all the work you did with dough, it didn’t help much when the man pulled out a knife and dug it straight into your gut. But, you don’t mind too much- your brother’s alive and well and, from what you understand from asking Lord Hades, he had started to be more aware of himself and who he angered. Which made you super happy and proud of him!
Ares can’t help but feel some sort of pity for you. So much life to be taken so quickly and placed in- wait. Why weren’t you in Elysium?
You’re incredibly confused when Ares suddenly disappears (Aphrodite appearing in his place in the blink of an eye- she greets you happily and asks if you have any of Baklava to share today. You do not but you do have some Loukoumades if she wanted some. She did). You’re even more confused when the Underworld shakes and angry yelling fills the entirety of it for a solid ten minutes before all goes back to normal.
You tell Ares about it the next day and he simply hums. Keeping it to himself that he made a whole scene about you not being in Elysium by popping up and butting heads with Hades, of course he got kicked out. That still doesn’t stop him from sending angry letters that can span anywhere from one word letters (usually containing a curse word) to a 30 page essay on why you should be in Elysium instead of milling about in such unkempt places.
The first time you go out of your way to get him a bottle of Ambrosia is the day that both scares the shit out of him and makes him hate you for giving him mushy feelings.
You came to him in, almost literal, tatters: your greenish, transparent form ripped in places, the few wisps of you following after your torn form like they were tied to a string. You had held it up to him in a basket, a plate of Baklava sitting next to it, along with some other treats. “Lady Aphrodite mentioned that she wanted to try my Baklava, so I made her some! Though the Ambrosia is just for you, my Lord!”
He blinked at you, taking the basket in a delicate hold. He turned it this way and that, his chest feeling… warm? He wanted to grimace at the soft warmth that thrummed through his veins, yet it was replaced with a smile as he held up the gold liquid. “Thank you, little Baker.”
It was the first time he felt something so unexplainably soft: so gentle and warm as it settled somewhere between the bottom of his ribcage and the top of his stomach. He listened as you told him how you had gotten it: with Zagreus’ help (you even got to meet Lord Hermes! It was so amazing! He had scoffed at that) he led you to a room with Ambrosia as the prize and, despite the young prince’s worry, you managed to beat the monsters and collect it, mostly, by yourself.
Ares was so flattered, but he couldn’t help the way that your tattered form made him feel a sort of worry. He waved his hands through the wisps of your body before he snapped his fingers and a small blade appeared: a beautifully constructed blade that was an exact replica of his (albeit much, much smaller). He handed it to you, telling you that you should have a proper weapon if you’re going to go out of your way to fight in his name.
Dionysus
Cause of Death: Alcohol Poisoning
Dionysus, unlike many, is incredibly excited to see you sitting there. He adores mortal souls and can’t help but look at them each time Zag chooses his boons and he has the chance to glimpse at their souls (despite his tendency to let them go completely after they die- he can’t help but wonder about them once in a while).
“Why, hello there! What’s a little thing like you doing strolling up to my boon, hm?”
He can’t help but notice the way your eyes are a tad dull, but he writes that off as the dark of Tartarus since it’s gone as fast as he noticed it. You smile up at him, absolutely beaming at the God of drink and madness. “Hello, Lord Dionysus!”
“Oho, you could tell it was me? What gave it away?”
The two of you laugh, diving into a conversation. He offers you a cup of wine and is put off with how long it takes you to decline it. He almost thought you looked absolutely ravenous as you peered into the deep red liquid. He shrugs it off and continues to chatter with you until his favorite Zagman stumbles upon the two of you. He’s quick to say hi to you and even leans down to ask you… something. Dionysus misses it, but still watches the way you stiffly nod before you pass the boon to the prince and scurry off.
He’s tempted to ask about it, but decides that he should probably ask you himself instead of trying to pry. Mortals didn’t take well to people snooping around their private lives, which he could respect.
The next time he sees you though, he relaxes you into a sort of peaceful lull as he chats with you before he drops the question.
You stare blankly at him, that dark look in your eye coming back and making his skin crawl. You suddenly laugh it off waving your hands as you tell him that a god shouldn’t worry about a little ol’ shade like you.
He doesn’t push for an answer but the question still swirls in his mind, even as you toddle off after his Zagman pops up. He decides that he’ll actually ask the Prince this time around.
He asks him point blank and Zag, despite him being hesitant at first, decides to spill how you died. You had been the black sheep of your family, never truly fitting into the carefully set path that they wanted you to follow- so you found solace in drinking from a young age. It had taken the edge off of everything, Zagreus recounted you telling him. It filled you with a warmth you had been missing all your life and you couldn’t help but indulge more and more in it until it slowly became your own personal poison. Dionysus grimaced, for once feeling a sort of queasiness in the pit of his stomach as Zagreus continued on with your story. So, one day, you had drunk yourself into a deep stupor after an awful argument with your parents. But, this time, you never woke up. Instead you woke up floating in the river of blood- the River of Styx.
Dionysus had nodded after the Prince finished the story, playing with the goblet in his hand and swirling the red wine that resides in it. He offers a bitter smile to Zag and bids his farewell (of course leaving a boon of his choice with the lad) popping off back to Olympus.
The next time he runs into you, he asks if you’re feeling alright- if you want to talk. You blink at him, confused at first until realization dawns you. You bite your lip, looking down. He’s quick to assure you that you didn’t have to talk about anything- you two could just have a good time like always. You tell him that you’d like that, not yet ready to face your past. He nods, immediately telling you about an embarrassing story about Ares and how much of a lightweight he was which had you letting out an ugly snort along with your loud cackles.
The god begins to take it upon himself to have you smiling more and maybe remedy those dark clouds that appear in your eyes once in a while. He’s pretty observant despite being piss drunk half the time, it also helps that he’s very intune to your emotions for some odd reason, so he’s quick to pick up on when you feel down or your having something the equivalent to a relapse. He has you drink just a little bit from his goblet since it’s better than quitting cold turkey. And that little bit is always enough to quench your thirst and calm you down. You’ve been needing less and less of it as the days (nights?) pass by.
The first time you get Dionysus Ambrosia is the same day that he almost swears that he’ll marry you. He’s quick to grow emotional with the sheer fact that you went out of your way to get something so special for him, his face almost splitting with how wide of a smile he has on his face.
“You got this for me, man?” He says, holding up the bottle in his hand and inspecting it like it’s a precious jewel. “You know this stuff is hard to come by, super hard.”
You nod, the clouds far from your eyes now. “I had to thank you some way and punching a couple of Shades to get my hands on that was worth it.”
“You punched people for me?”
“Of course.”
He fights the urge to squeal and pops the top off, summoning another cup and pouring some in it. “Here’s to us!” He says as he hands you the cup.
He’s honestly never had so much fun just existing with one person. After that he’s never far from you, one usually not seen without the other around- even despite the Underworld not being Dionysus’ favorite place, he can’t help but be willing to venture down there to see you in person (he’s been trying to convince his wonderful Uncle Hades to let you come up with him to Olympus for a little bit- he’s even got his dad and (other) Uncle in on it. Hades officially hates all of them). His gift to you is a matching goblet that will supply you any beverage of your choice. It also has the double power to protect you from all that wishes to harm you, but you’ll learn that in due time. It’ll be more fun that way, Dionysus muses.
Hermes
Cause of Death: Falling
Usually, Heremes wouldn’t have taken the time of day to chatter mindlessly with a shade. But, it was a different story when that shade summoned him through bumping into his boon- now it’s just interesting!
“Eh? Who’re you? It’s kinda strange for a shade to be here and not my Cos, huh? Did something happen to him? You his stand in or something? That’d be kinda funny because you don’t seem like his stand in- not buff enough or something like that.”
You blink slowly taking in the words of his mile a minute speech as he continues to prattle on. You take a seat in front of the quick mouthed god, getting yourself comfortable as he flutters about and chatters. Not like you minded- he filled in the places where you couldn’t with steady conversation. You nod to some of the quips he makes, just to show you were still listening.
He decides then and there that he likes you a lot and that you should meet Charon. As soon as Zagreus pops up to collect the boon- he grabs the back of your robes and goes zooming off with you in tow. You wave to the panicked prince, allowing yourself to be dragged around. He continues to chatter on and on, only taking a break when he reaches the Boatman (who was not expecting a Shade to be accompanying the God of Messengers). He sets you down, tries to introduce you two to each other- realizes he doesn’t know your name, so you end up telling them your name- and then is quick to say goodbye, after he gives a scroll to Charon, and shoots off.
You end up staying with Charon after learning a bit more about the quiet boatman and Hermes is quite pleased when he realizes that he’d be seeing you around a lot more. He’s quick to flutter about you and chatter for a few quick seconds before zipping off. You wave at him.
The process repeats for a while before he finally takes a moment to really sit with you, Charon having gone to pick up more souls and lead them down the River of Styx. He chatters on aimlessly, asking little questions here and there before he decides to ask the million dollar question: “How did you die?”
You blink slowly as him before murmuring that you fell from a very high place, you head cracking open on the rocks at the bottom and now here you are. He asks why you were messing about on a high place, as that seemed to be something most mortals avoided doing. You explained that there was a kitten stuck in an old root on the ledge and you couldn’t just leave her. So, you crawled onto the branch and put her back onto safe ground, but the root gave way and then you went tumbling to your doom.
Hermes is surprisingly quiet throughout the entire exchange until you reach the end and he says: “you’re a real bleeding heart under all that quiet, huh?” You nod solemnly and he laughs, pulling you into a side hug. How could something with such a fleeting life be so selfless with it? He squeezes you harder before he stands up and bids you farwell, shooting off once again. And, again, you wave as he goes.
He grows attached to you quickly afterwards, bringing you little things that might help make you more comfortable down in the Underworld. Of course Charon is there to keep you company which he’s happy about- and he voices that exact thought to the boatman, who just grumbles out a long: uuuuaagghhh as his reply. He pats his arm and says that he knew he’d get it.
When you manage to get your hands on a bottle of Ambrosia- he’s completely blind sided that he almost trips on his own feet. His face flushing a deep red as he takes the offered bottle.
“How’d- how’d you get this?” His speech is all jumbled and jumpy, though he tries to keep the giddy excitement bubbling in his stomach as bay.
“I saved up my coin,” you said, nodding to Charon who nods back. “And bought it from Charon. I would’ve fought for it, but I’m no warrior.”
A smile splits across his face and the wings on the side of his head flutter. He’s quick to scoop you up and hug you, floating up with you as he does.
Hermes is an absolute giddy mess with your offering, not sure if he should kiss you or simply remain holding you. He had a special place for you before but this just solidifies his adoration for you. His gift to you is a pair of boots with wings on the side of them- an exact replica of his (in your size! Somehow-). He promises that they’ll help you get anywhere you want quickly, also the two of you match! How cute is that?
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cafedanslanuit · 2 years
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tw: mentions of murder and suicide.
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talked about this with @bokebelle last night but... adult kazutora, who is now out of jail, trauma dumps out of fucking nowhere. not as a confession, but as a silly little comment.
you're having lunch together at the food court and you complain it's difficult to cut your meat because they gave you a simple plastic knife.
"depends on how you use it, though," he says, taking a bite of his hamburger. "back in jail, i saw someone get stabbed on the throat with one of those."
you choke on your drink and look at him with worried eyes, but kazutora seems calm as he takes a sip of his soda can.
"oh my god―"
"it's fine!" he assures you. "he didn't die, but i heard he couldn't eat solids anymore after that. hey, could you pass me the ketchup?"
it becomes a thing for kazutora. you have tried and asked him about his time in jail and if there's anything he may want to share, but he always says nothing comes to mind. however, you're watching a movie late at night and he scoffs at one particular scene.
"what?"
"oh, it just doesn't make sense. if he killed himself the night before, his friend couldn't have carried him like that. he'd be stiff― my cellmate killed himself just like that and it was tricky to get his body out."
he grabs a bunch of popcorn and takes it to his mouth, munching contently. it takes him a couple moments to realize you're staring at him, so he turns his head and looks at you questioningly.
"are you okay? that must have been awful."
kazutora shrugs. "i guess. i did have a lot of different cellmates, though, they didn't all do that," he says before turning back to the movie.
later that night, you can't help but think about his comments while you watch him peacefully sleep next to you. he always says he doesn't feel he has something to share, yet you know the experiences he talks about had to be traumatizing.
is he truly not affected by those memories anymore? or are those honest blurbs his way of slowly sharing what he went through for so many years?
you know you won't get your answer anytime soon. sighing, you drape an arm around his figure and bury your nose on his dark hair, inhaling the sweet scent from his shampoo.
one day, you'll sit and listen to him talk about every part of his life he wants to share with you. his fears, his doubts, his hopes for a brighter future. or maybe, one day you'll realize he's truly healed and that his past isn't but a distant story he likes to joke about to bring light into previous grim memories.
but for now, you snuggle closer.
it's all you both need for the night.
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sweetberrysmooch · 3 years
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HC: Call This The ‘Can This Man Cook’ Section
(….. I don’t think these men can cook 😔)
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First post pog :D I wrote a majority of these super late at night, so please forgive and let me know of any mistakes you find <3 Also, it’s a little long lol
Characters: Dream, George, SapNap, Badboyhalo, Wilbur, Technoblade, Philza, Quackity, Fundy, Schlatt.
Warnings: None, except for a kinda risqué comment in Philza’s. Oh and I guess there’s mentions of eating meat in case someone wants the warning :3
Song Recommendation: I Love You So- The Walters
Hella fluffy! Hope you enjoy <3
From best to worst:
#1: BadBoyHalo-
Bad is the best at cooking on the server. He is the creme of the crop, absolute top one percent, king shit at cooking.
He can cook, bake, and temper chocolate perfectly, what more could you want?
His favorite to-go recipes are cheesy garlic bread and a special spicy chicken and rice recipe which he typically makes when the boys are over at his house for the night. When he’s with you he goes for something a little smoother, some mulled sweet berry cider with a smoked cod fillet, eaten under the light of candles while you quietly chat about life and your fellow friends. It’s always one of Bad’s most anticipated hangouts, and he’s very careful about planning when it comes to those days.
While he appreciates being complimented on his food or his skills, deep down he wants to have someone to cook and share his knowledge with so the cooking process becomes much richer. He’s cooked for so long and learned so much, but it means nothing if he can’t share it with another person. The moment you come to him and ask him for help on any kind of recipe, he’ll drop almost everything to help you.
Side note; he absolutely carried lunch and dinner for his fellow DTeam members. While Sapnap would mostly take over breakfast, Bad would be hounded by begging puppy looks from these adult men who couldn’t cook and kind of just sigh and get the ‘kiss the cook’ apron ready. It’s not like he hates it or anything, but the endearing factor kinda slips off after a few years of adult men groveling.
(Bad’s hands rest over yours, dwarfing them entirely as he helps you cut the pasta sheet straightly. “There you go!” He encourages, squeezing your hand gently and stepping away, moving back to dice the vegetables on the cutting board next to you. A comfortable silence falls, and with it comes something in Bad’s heart softening. The worries and exhaustion in his mind ease, and he slips into a contented routine of finely chopping and slicing. It’s been a while since he’s felt so calm. There’s nothing that can ruin this- 
The front door slams open. Footsteps walk in and approach the kitchen and you both hear it, 
“Baaaaaaaaad.” Bad cringes, taking a step back.
“Baaaaaaaaaaad, we’re hungry.” Sapnap. 
“Yeah Bad, feeeeeeeed uuuuuuus.” George. 
And then, from around the door frame, a white mask peeks in. Nobody says a word, but you can feel Bad deflate next to you like let go balloon. 
“It’s alright, big guy.” You laugh, grabbing his forearm and leaning up against him. His sad puppy eyes make you smile a little, and you try to reassure him. “We can hang out alone another time. Let’s keep working on the pasta.” He sighs, but still returns your smile. “Yeah, another time.”)
#2: Philza 
Sigh…. he can cook. Not quite as good as Bad can, but better than Quackity. A solid second place. It stems mainly from being so knowledgeable that he just knows and has tried so many different foods, but since he doesn't actually do much cooking, I'm making him a flaky second place.
Doesn’t mind cooking, but doesn’t love doing it either. He’s always focused on so many different things that he’ll forgo eating to keep working on what he’s doing. He mostly cooks for Techno and Ranboo or the few guests (you) they seem to receive. Makes great stew, and even better roasted chicken, is absolutely immaculate when it comes to cooking bird.
He didn’t teach Wilbur or Techno shit! I wish I could say it’s because he wanted to but just couldn’t, but he was literally like “hmm. Im a little busy now, maybe next year” every year!! But, this being said, if you ask him to make something with you or teach you how to cook a particular dish, he will agree to help you. Old age has really mellowed him out, and after certain events, he realizes he needs to stay a bit closer to those he cares about from now on.
He likes sweets well enough, and will always thank you for any gifts you make for him. Along with growing older, he’s had time to lose his pickiness he had in his youth. If he does end up cooking with you, he’ll prefer doing the harder recipes over easy ones. He will lose it laughing if it turns out bad, so don’t worry about any disappointment (his children make up enough of that ^^).
(“Now,” Phil starts, washing his hands quickly as you wait for him next to the cutting board. “Pufferfish needs to be prepared perfectly, or we will die when we eat it. But I don’t need to explain to you how a pufferfish works, now do I?” 
When you shake your head no, he comes up behind you, tarnished wings bound and hair pulled up in a pony tail. 
“The meat of a pufferfish is very delectable, and much better with a glass of wine.” He grins cheekily, “ If this works out well, which I’m sure it will, dinner will be delicious.” 
It falls quiet for a second, and as your hesitantly looking over the fish that may be your last, you gasp when you feel him press up against you back and rest his chin on your shoulder. “Maybe there’ll be other delicious things to eat as well,” He murmurs into you ear, before leaning back and busting out laughing. Your face feels stupidly hot. Dilfza quest activated.)
#3: Quackity-
Quackity:
Quackity can cook. I know!! I’d say he’s like the third best cooker on the list. And he’s not half bad at baking either.
He likes making up stupid bad recipes and trying them out with you, even if at the end of it the one of you up chucks your damned creations the hour after. Despite his reigning need for chaos though, he knows how to make a decent amount of recipes and strives for praise when he’s actually putting forward effort. He’ll arrange little dinner dates (“A handsome man and his very pretty friend, good food made by yours truly, and La Chona, what do you say, baby?”) and will sit there with a 🥺 look on his face until you tell him if you liked it or not.
He tries to act like he’s unaffected by your words, but even a small, “That was really good.” will make him turn red and giggle like a schoolgirl. He tries to play it off, but it’s easy to tell he loves the complements. Will also never tell you anything you make is bad. You are a deity descended upon  minecraft Earth and he is but your prettiest disciple who will uphold your honor and treat you like you should be treated!!!! But he’ll then promptly choose to help you with and guide you into cooking/baking better ^^; He loves you!
As for baking, he really likes making cakes because of how simple they can be. It helps calm him down when he can just slip into bake mode and follow a recipe and make something nice at the end of it. Speaking of, he also has a sweet tooth, but not quite as bad as Techno does. Any sweets or food you make for him is always eaten, and always held in high regard. Will try to entice you into feeding him 👀👀 so watch out.
(He’s doing it again. You try to avoid looking directly at the dopey lovesick smile Quackity has on his face at the moment, but as you lift the fork up, you get a better idea. 
You look at him (to which he seems to melt a little under your gaze), look at the fork, and then back to him, raising the piece of cake up to his lips. His expression turns flabbergasted and his blush deepens. 
He doesn’t seem to believe you for a second, until you nudge the cake close and flash him a smile. Then it’s like a switch has been flicked; he giggles, blushing, and eats the cake right off the fork. He’s gone back to smiling that silly smile again, this time even brighter, but it’s okay. You try to ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest when he begs you for another piece.)
#4: Schlatt-
Another cooker~! He specializes with formal dinners more than anything else, and adores a good steak.
During his presidency, he didn’t cook very often. Quackity and you had to keep him fed through most of it, and the memory of watching you cook in his kitchen while he looked over work papers at his dining table leaves a mark on him, sealing a new crave for domesticity that he hadn’t ever wanted before.
Sometimes he would cook though. You, Quackity, and Tubbo would all gather around and eat together every once in a blue moon, when Schlatt was sober and calm. It feels tense at the table but also not in a way? Schlatt always seems to be chillest during dinner, a mix of the alcohol wearing off and the emphatic family feel that comes with Tubbo, Quackity, and you surrounding him.
He loves cake! It’s one of the few desserts he’ll eat, but you have to watch him closely or he’ll gorge himself of the treat. Indulge him and invite him to make a cake with you, and it will be one of the most interesting bakes of your life. How Schlatt got three eggs to stick to the ceiling is beyond you, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s completely fucking sober and hamming up his own cluelessness. You probably wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for him hiding all the other eggs around your kitchen as well. How did he get one on the top of your door without it falling when you opened it? That’s between him and god.
Overall, a good 4th place on the list.
(“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Schlatt says, deadpanned, looking you right in the fucking eyes with an undisturbed egg sitting perfectly straight on his head. 
“Where are the eggs, Schlatt.” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
“Schlatt.” 
“Yes.” 
The container you kept them in is completely empty on your kitchen counter, once full of eggs but now reduced to a desolate husk of its former glory. Speaking of former glories, your president turns around, arms crossed and stands there silently. 
You look around. Theres one in the door handle of in the pantry, another wedged between two slices of bread in your bread box, and- oh god. On the fucking ceiling. Three, stuck to the ceiling, unmovable. After a full minute of dead silence you manage a “What the fuck have you done?”, and Schlatt turns to look. 
“Oh hey. There they are.” Your mind turns into a rock, shatters, and crumbles into dust.)
#5: Dream-
Honestly if you’re looking for edible food that tastes range from ok to good Dream is your man. 5th place.
He knows a lot of ‘depression era’ type recipes just because he’s pretty homeless and his man hunts don’t allow him much time to hone his skills. Stuff like bread or mushroom stew comes easy to him after so many times of having to do it on the run. Bread is the only baking he won’t screw up.
Can cook meat well enough too, but doesn’t really do anything special to it (besides his sauces).
To elaborate: Over the unknown span of his life, he’s acquired these recipes for forgotten and questionable sauces that he’ll store in little jars and leave at your house for you to use. They’re odd, and the ingredients aren’t ever what you think might be edible, but they’re surprisingly tasty none the less. He likes to show you a new one every month or so to keep things fresh.
Pretty general about sweets, but has a severe love for chocolate, especially dark chocolate. Has never had one, but dreams about chocolate cake. It’s high on his bucket list and written another four times over.
One of his favorite things to do with you is bake, mainly because of how ruinous it always turns out. No matter your skill, Dream’s vibes decimates any luck the two of you will have while baking. It’s scientifically proven. You left the cupcakes in for a minute-JUST a minute over what they should’ve been and they came out rock solid. Dream tried to eat one anyway. Best part was watching him try to bite through the shell.)
(He thinks he’s over selling it, half-gnawing on the brown cupcake (it was supposed to be vanilla, he thought) and making stupid growls when his teeth barely break through the surface, but the feeling he gets when you start laughing hysterically next to him wipes away any negative thought he had and fills him with utter joy. 
It's very late into the night, and you’re both a little loopy, but all the while you still lean against him as you giggle, the spot tingling where your hand rests on his arm. 
His heart thumps crazily, before sinking. Oh god. He’s in love with you.)
#6: Technoblade-
Knows a lot, but very little. He can cook the meat perfectly fine, but there’s a difference between being cooked and tasting good. He doesn’t know how to season them. Salt is the bare minimum you get.
6th place ^^; sorry king.
He’s good with potatoes though. I like to think that the countless hours spent potato farming had to account for something. He likes having cheese and butter on them every once in a while, but for the most part just eats them salted like an animal. It’s practically a show to watch him eat a cooked potato in three bites without anything but salt on it.
Big man loves food though, even if he doesn’t eat like it. Steak and cooked fish are high on his list of foods, but only if it’s cooked by Philza. And eventually you fall into his “I trust to eat this from you” category as well, but he has a special place in his heart for Phil’s cooking. Rabbit stew is at the very top.
He also eats a lot, being 6’10 and 200 something pounds of muscle, gotta consume quite a bit to keep him moving.
As for the sweeter variety of food, he’s got a massive sweet tooth. The moment you make him an apple pie or honey candy or anything of the like, he’s immediately enamored with you. Sweet things are hard to come by on the smp, especially with how far out he lives, but it’s a secret weakness of his that is very easily exploitable.
(You’ll be the death of him, he thinks, watching you closely as you trudge your way through the freshly fallen snow towards his house. Your normal pack is lighter than it usually looks, and he worries that you may slip and hurt yourself on the ice before you make it to the door. But still, you keep walking until you're standing at his doorstep, fist raised to knock when he opens it for you. 
You look surprised for a second, and then a grin splits your face and his heart races. 
“I can’t stay for long,” you say, having spent at least 30 minutes to get there. “But I wanted to drop this off for you before you went out to hunt again.” 
Out of the bag, you pull another smaller leather bag and hand it to him gently. It rests heavy in his palm, and for a moment he’s sure it’s ender pearls that you’ve brought him. But still he opens it, and he’s immediately taken aback by the smooth golden candies you brought him. 
“They’re honey candies.” At this point you’re practically grinning. “I thought you might like some while I was making them last night.” 
He doesn’t have to see his own face to feel the deep blush setting in on his cheeks and ears. You…. you’re so…… sweet. You are very…. sweet, he admits to himself, and he is very not attached to you. Not at all.)
#7: Fundy and Sapnap tie.
Fundy- 
Has his old man's cluelessness but is a fast learner. He doesn’t have much time to expand his food repertoire so it’s pretty much the basic stuff that he’s eaten during the war or before that when he was younger.
He really likes cooking though, and will invite you to come cook with him for dinner or lunch if he wants to hang out. When they were together, Dream had given him an old dusty cookbook that had several recipes he hadn’t ever heard of before, so that’s where most of what he tries to make comes from. His favorite to date was a special mutton dish that he asked you to try with him on his last birthday. It was just the two of you, but he had never had so much fun before.
Doesn’t like eating fish however, there’s just some bad vibe he gets when he thinks about cooking one or catching one. (Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Despera-)
Loves sweet berries as treats, seeing as that’s the only sweet thing he grew up with. Not too big on other sweet flavors. Likes honey in his tea though.
7th place cooker, will get higher as he learns more dishes.
(He raises his wine high with a laugh, clinking your glass with it as you both giggle drunkenly. 
The lamb you had cooked together turned out amazing, juicy and tender and flavored with crimson fungus juice. The recipe was from an old cookbook he had, he faintly remembers telling you, hiding the fact that it was Dream’s cookbook that he was given after a particularly nasty argument. 
He doesn’t want to think about him, especially not while he’s with you. Especially not when it’s his birthday. 
So instead he ponders the trip through the nether he took with you to harvest some of the fungi, how the juice was tangy and slightly bitter, but how it had done wonders when basted onto the meat while frying. 
You had looked so happy when you two plated the dish, so proud of him, all in a way that Dream never was. 
Even now, as you tiredly smile at him from across the table, cheeks pink and eyes focused solely on the moment you were sharing, he feels at peace for once. This is what contentment felt like. Oh, how he loves you so.)
Sapnap-
Shame the shit cooker. Ok ok, he’s not as bad as some of the others on this list, but that’s just because he can make a half decent breakfast. It’s not much competition.
Bad has desperately tried to teach this boy some cooking besides eggs and toast, but the only things that seem to have stuck are mashed potatoes and grilled pork chops. Neither of which he even likes enough to make often.
He prefers fish to meat, and would eat any kind of cod you offered to him. Likes smoked salmon a lot, it’s something Bad made for him a lot when he was younger. He tries to recreate the dish, but comes up short and feels disheartened when it isn’t like Bad’s. He’d appreciate any time you took with him to learn how to make the dish, and it wholly sticks to his mind afterwards. He never forgets the experience, and treasures it very closely.
Likes not-sweet sweets. Not bitter per say, but just not very sweet. He likes chewy taffy in particular, but the old lady kind that lasts 60 years but gets hard in 6 minutes after being exposed to open air. Gotta be polite about it too, or he’ll end up embarrassed and pout for an hour.
(He’s eaten 6 of those fucking taffies since you sat down on the couch, completely straight-faced as the two of you of you listen to Dream and George talking. 
At this point you’re completely checked out of their conversation, solely focused on the taffy Sapnap keeps eating. Where does he even get those? How many does he have?? You’ve been friends with him long enough to have seen him pop a taffy every other second of the day. He seems to have a stash on him at all times tucked away, filled with paper-wrapped pastel covered sweets. 
“Want one?” Sapnap asks, holding out a light blue taffy with a little star drawn in yellow dye on the wrapper. 
“What?” Startled, you lean back a bit and realize you had been staring him down as he ate, and flush with how rude that probably seemed. 
“Want a taffy? I don’t mind sharing with you, cutie.” He winks and offers the taffy again. “....” You gaze at the taffy curiously. You’ve never seen him offer another person one of his precious taffies before. Hmm. “...Yes, thanks.” 
You take it delicately, unwrapping the wrapper and taking a bite of it experimentally. It’s very lightly sweet, soft and chewy and surprisingly pleasant. 
Sapnap watches you from the corner of his eye, softly smiling when he sees you eat the rest of it. Glad to see someone else has good tastes around here.)
#8. George-
Meager man makes a meager meal. I said what I said!!! This flatbread boy knows diddly squat, and the only things he can cook successfully are bread and mushroom soup. Which he will make. And that’s all he’ll make. Any food that isn’t that is cooked by either Bad or Dream, and he’s still picky about it.
He’ll make you the soup and bread ladies and gents. I’m not saying they’ll taste great together, but he will definitely make them for you. Anything else he’s pretty critical about, and he doesn’t care much for treats or dessert. He does occasionally like dark chocolate though, which he and Dream will beg Bad to make for them. Soon he begs you to make it for him, and then you have to go ask Bad how he makes it so George won’t complain about how it tastes different from Bads. It’s a weird situation. You make a lot of chocolate. Dream and George linger at your house for weeks on end until you get fed up and shoo them away with a broom.
To his credit, even though he can’t cook much, he’s really proud of his mushroom stew. Any time you let him cook, his go-to is his mushroom stew. He likes to feed you and know that you’re not hungry somewhere, and to top it off he gets to show you his prized dish; not Bad’s or Dream’s stew, but his. He’s cute or whateva…
(George places the bowl down in front you, stepping back and turning to grab his own, before sitting down next to you. He immediately begins to eat, and you give him a half glance as you bring the soup up to smell it. 
It… doesn’t smell that bad, actually. Not burnt, at least. You spoon some of the soup into your mouth. 
Despite all you’ve seen of George’s cooking, this is pretty well made. It’s nice and warm, and the flavors are rich and the mushrooms soft. You choose to ignore the small smile of his face next to you, and keep eating your soup quietly together.)
#9: Wilbur
Wilbur can’t cook for shit. Literally nothing. This man knows apples grow from trees and that animals are made of meat and that’s it.
You think Wilbur made any of his food when he was president or exiled or ever? Not a chance. He ate anything given to him, Tubbo and Tommy absolutely brought this man all the food they could find so he wouldn’t get eat straight trash or starve throughout the presidency. Techno slid him bare cooked potatoes in Pogtopia and he thought “oh this slaps….. this is the pinnacle of food”
Which I know, not really sexy. But! This means that the moment you feed him something a step up from a bare cooked potato he is in food heaven. He especially loves saucier kinds of foods with lots of flavor and spice to them, it’s just so fucking good. Food becomes his kryptonite after you feed this silly man.
With sweets, however, he isn’t that much of a fan. He does like those small lemon creme crackers, and you and da boys are the only ppl he’ll share them with.
(You hear him before you see him. The familiar clambering at your window draws your attention away from the pork you were dicing, and one look over your shoulder shows a disheveled but grinning Wilbur. 
“I hope I’m not too late for dinner.” He jokes, brushing off his pants before approaching you to press a kiss to your temple. Soon after that you hear another set of clambering, and two pairs of stomps reveals one Tommy and one Tubbo respectively. 
“What’s for dinner tonight, mate?” 
“Hope you don’t mind if we join in!” 
You sigh, turning back to hide your smile before they can see it.)
// Hope you enjoyed! I might write a pt2 of this later with some other ppl in it lol we’ll see :3
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valxeren · 3 years
Text
𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠
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pairing: jean kirstein x reader
content warnings: none
word count: 1.8k
summary: it’s jean’s birthday and you decide to take him to go see the cherry blossom festival
notes: happy birthday, jean-bo! so i live near washington dc but i can’t go see the cherry blossoms this year :( but that’s okay bc now i’m imagining it with jean <3 also this was lowkey rushed 😭 i couldn’t do it justice
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springtime is like a period of rebirth. it’s a time for fresh starts and new beginnings. the world crawled out from the steely grip of the harsh winter and into the nurturing hands of brighter days and warmer weather.
it was the same thing every year; the flowers would bloom, the insects would come out, and the birds would migrate back south. except this year, there was something slightly different.
usually, jean would host a huge party for his birthday and spend the night drinking his cares away. he lived for the music that blared out of the speakers and for the flashing, colorful lights.
this year, you suggested to go to the cherry blossom festival with him. much to your surprise, he agreed, claiming that “a change of scenery is always nice.”
you had been best friends with jean basically your entire life. every memory that you had, you shared with him. he was always there for you, and you were glad that you could do the same for him.
the thing is, you’ve also been in love with him for quite some time. you don’t remember exactly when you knew; perhaps it was in middle school when he stood up for you after getting teased by the popular kids. or maybe, it was the one time he invited you on vacation with his family. you couldn’t say for sure.
for a while, you hoped it was just an infatuation. you thought it was just a silly little crush. it didn’t help that many of your peers thought you two were dating. whenever someone brought it up, you always found yourself getting flustered. on the other hand, jean would correct them before simply brushing it off.
you knew better than to crush on your best friend. what would happen if he were to find out? the most obvious (and most painful) possibility would be that he would find it too awkward to be around you. he’d probably stop wanting to be your friend, despite having a deep connection to you.
the other possibility seemed more likely, and it was that he would just reject you and move on. he’d reject you because he doesn’t feel the same way. because he was in love with mikasa.
you don’t blame him. mikasa is a beautiful woman. her eyes always seem to shine despite looking so dark and cold, and her silky hair was as black as the sky on a stormy night. she was always hanging out with eren, much to jean’s dismay. that’s what made it hard for him to approach her.
over the years, jean never showed any sort of romantic interest in you. you weren’t sure if he was just being oblivious or if he was flat out ignoring your hints. either way, you had no clue whether he saw you as more than a friend.
“are you okay?” jean’s voice brought you back to reality. he was watching as your fingers fiddled with the white fabric of your flowy shirt.
you got up at the crack of dawn this morning to get ready. jean picked you up just as the sun started to rise, so you took the time to admire the early morning scenery on the way to the metro station.
“huh? oh, yeah. i’m good,” you reassured him with a small smile. you two sat next to each other on the metro, on your way to washington dc.
just a couple more stops, and you’d be in the heart of dc. you looked around; more seats had been filled since you and jean got on. seems like these people had the same idea to go early in the morning to avoid large crowds.
after a couple more minutes passed, the metro screeched to a halt, and the intercom announced your destination. the doors slid open, and everyone began to shuffle onto the platform.
jean held your hand as you two left the station. it was a simple gesture that he didn’t think twice about, but it sent sparks throughout your body. you took an escalator going up, and you were met with a fresh breeze that left goosebumps on your skin.
“which way do we go?” jean questioned. he saw a small crowd of people around a signpost with a map, so he tugged you over in that direction.
“so we’re right here,” you pointed at the map after inspecting it. “so we need to go south for a couple blocks.”
“orrr we could just follow the crowd,” jean’s gaze shifted to the group of tourists that was crossing the street. he dragged you along behind him, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his hair flowed in the wind.
even though he was holding your hand the entire time, he would periodically look over his shoulder to make sure you were still there. with each glance, there was always a smile on his lips that sent butterflies to your stomach. the way they flitted around and flapped their wings around made you feel something; were you nervous? excited? you weren’t quite so sure.
little did you know, jean loved how well your hand fit in his, and how you subconsciously rubbed your thumb against his skin. he loved being close to you, he loved everything about you.
jean knows that you have feelings for him. he was just so unsure of how he felt about it when he found out. he liked mikasa, and he didn’t want you to think that you’re just his second choice. he didn’t want you to belittle yourself like that, so he made it seem like he wasn’t interested in you. he hoped that it would be enough for you to lose feelings, but it wasn’t. you were still hopelessly in love with him, the same way he was in love with mikasa.
although recently, something inside of his heart changed. he made fewer attempts to talk to and hang out with mikasa, and he spent more time alone. he would sit in his room and think “it’s useless, she doesn’t want me.” he was slowly losing feelings for the girl he had been crushing on for the past couple years, so why couldn’t you do the same?
when spring started this year, jean realized something. he just liked mikasa because she distracted him from you. he knew it was a pathetic excuse, but he could no longer keep lying to himself. all along, you were the one he wanted and it was about time he came to terms with that.
it was so painfully obvious to everyone in your friend group that you and jean liked each other, but neither of you made the first move. even connie noticed how jean hugged you for a second longer than everyone else, and how your stare would linger on him even after he stopped talking. eren often teased jean about his crush on you, but he’d always deny everything with a blush on his face.
maybe today is the day i tell them the truth, jean thought as you both arrived at the tidal basin. the cherry blossom trees were in full bloom, providing a scene that looked like it was straight out of a movie. the pink petals danced in the wind before meeting the ground or swirling on top of the water.
“it’s beautiful here,” you breathlessly stated. being here with jean today filled you with an indescribable joy. you felt like you were a middle schooler that just got grouped up with their crush for a project.
as you admired the view, jean couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you. the sunlight was hitting you perfectly, enhancing your features and making your eyes glint brighter. the wind picked up, billowing and rippling the fabric of your shirt, and causing even more petals to whirl around.
you turned your head to face him, and his cheeks flushed the same shade as the cherry blossoms. he found himself hesitantly taking a step closer to you, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. without thinking much of it, you stepped further from him.
jean took you by surprise by throwing his arm over your shoulders and pulling you to his side. you felt like your body was on fire, and you swore he could see your heart beating out of your chest.
“what are you so nervous for?” he chuckled. he said it so casually, as if he didn’t just pull you closer to him. but it was normal right? he’s your best friend, there’s nothing unusual about it. he’s just being his friendly self.
“i–,” you choked before continuing. “i have something to tell you.”
“i like you,” he confessed nonchalantly.
your eyes widened in shock. “you– what? me? but mik–” you became a flustered mess after processing his words for a moment.
“i haven’t been true to myself and to you,” he turned so that he was facing you, and he placed his hands on your shoulders. it was now or never. “you’re the one that i want.”
it was suddenly becoming too much for you to handle. you weren’t even sure if jean was telling the truth; maybe this was some sick late april fool’s prank that he was pulling. you felt as if you might explode any second now; the butterflies in your stomach were going haywire.
the sincerity and hope in his eyes is what convinced you that he was in fact dead serious. jean likes you back. after so many years of guessing and being too afraid to make an actual move, you were finally hearing what you longed for.
“can i kiss you?” he bit the corner of his bottom lip in anticipation as you nodded your head slowly. he brought his hands up to cup your face and he leaned towards you.
his lips were as soft as the gentle waves of water that lapped against the rocks of the basin. they were as warm as the sun that beat down on you, as sweet as honey fresh from the comb. you melted into his touch; it felt so right to be here with him in this moment. it was everything you ever imagined, and so much more.
jean brushed his thumb against your cheek after he pulled away and continued to stare into the depth of your eyes. his pupils were dilated, and he failed to stifle a laugh that was melodic to your ears.
“happy birthday,” you whispered to him. it was barely audible over the sound of the wind rustling the tree branches overhead, but he somehow heard you and pulled you into a hug.
it was in that moment that jean knew that you were everything he had ever wanted. as the cherry blossoms petals were swaying around your bodies, he was falling for you.
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