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#but in the meantime i am very flattered as i say
gingerbreadmonsters · 2 years
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Going to your Geordi for comfort fic in these trying times 😔
(my masterlist is a fuckin MESS - link to the fic is here for anyone who is curious about my geordi fic lmao)
[head in hands] they certainly are trying times, anon........ i have faith in geordi and cutie to figure it out, but in the meantime i too am retreating into comfort fics to get me through 😵‍💫😇😭
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zukadiary · 8 months
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Anastasia (Umeda Arts, 2023)
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I’m flattered that the overwhelming response to my poll was to bring back reviews :D Since I posted that, Takarazuka has unfortunately been involved in a terrible tragedy (additional information here). I may review the Takarazuka performances I was able to see at a later date, but at the moment I’m going to take some space from doing so.
In the meantime, a very bright spot in a long-awaited trip otherwise filled with multiple bouts of shocking news was the Broadway musical Anastasia, featuring Asami Hikaru (my ご贔屓, kamioshi, bias to end all biases, for those who joined during COVID and somehow missed this) amidst a rather star-studded cast. Getting to see Anastasia was quite special, not only because it’s been 4 1/2 years since I was last able to travel to Japan and see Komu, but also because I HAD tickets to the original Spring 2020 run before, well, you know (not to mention the ruined plans to see fave #2 as the same role in the tkz version). On top of that, it was good.
The Broadway version of Anastasia follows two con men in post-revolution Russia, Dmitri and Vlad, who, amidst rumors that Anastasia Romanov has somehow survived the execution of the rest of the royal family, accidentally find the real one while auditioning actresses to pretend to be her for reward money.
Given that my bias to end all biases taidan’d 17 years ago, I’ve seen my fair share of Japanese theater outside of Takarazuka in my quest to spend as much time in her presence as humanly possible. Usually, I find the non-OG cast members (especially men!!) unimpressive to the point of superfluousness. Imagine my shock when I found myself raising my opera glasses when Komu wasn’t even on stage.
Ranking!!
Anya: Aoi Wakana / Kinoshita Haruka
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Anya is a poor street sweeper with amnesia who has a feeling SOMEONE is waiting for her in Paris (turns out it’s her grandmother, the dowager empress). I was supposed to see each actress twice, but due to the flu making its rounds through the cast, I ended up seeing Wakana three times and Haruka only once… which is unfortunate, because Haruka is an absolute powerhouse, and Wakana is a TV actress. The cast lineup for my first of four viewings was absolutely flawless, and I wish it had been the finale instead (especially because I was in shock from Sora taidan dropping like 3 hours prior to curtain). Haruka has a Broadway-quality voice, and her acting not only made sense, but also lacked that peculiar anime-like delivery that most of the Japanese actors I’ve seen have in spades (IYKYK). Although perhaps she returned from flu recovery too quickly and didn’t have her whole voice, Wakana’s singing wasn’t really up to the challenge of the role; all of Anya’s big solo’s were rendered anticlimactic by very flat long notes. I also found her acting to be over the top and desperate, whereas Haruka’s was quite nuanced.
Dmitri: Kaiho Naoto / Aiba Hiroki / Utsumi Akiyoshi
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Dmitri is the romantic lead, something of a street urchin who starts off by hatching a moneymaking scheme to produce a fake Anastasia, and ultimately gives it all up after falling in love with Anya. I got to see Kaiho and Aiba, and to be honest, the only reason I’m not mad I had to see Aiba once is because that day Kaiho Naoto was Gleb. I know I am very late to this party, but this was the first time I got to see Kaiho Naoto live, and hooooooooooo boy. That man’s voice gave me chills, he acts like a normal person and not a cartoon, and his facial expressions are SO dynamic. His fans in the FIRST ROW had their opera glasses up, and now I take back making fun of them in my head. Incredible casting choice for Dmitri; he did an amazing job going through the full range of emotions and showing character growth, plus he looked so good in that scruffy little outfit. Tbh, marry me (Aiba on the other hand was an anime boy made flesh and blood and I can’t say I cared for it).
Vlad: Osumi Kenya / Ishikawa Zen
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Vlad is Dmitri’s old man friend, a former aristocrat and adulterous lover to Lily. This one is slightly less cut and dry because both actors had their merits, but alas, I’m a big Ishikawa Zen fan. Osumi Kenya is a dancer and Zen is not, and that was quite apparent in any scene with choreography. Other than that, I quite preferred Zen’s knockout voice, nuanced acting, and overflowing kindness. He’s irl bffs with Komu, so I found his Vlad’s chemistry with Lily to be more compelling; but he also integrated himself seamlessly into each cast, despite that I imagine it’s tricky to get the best possible rapport going when the roles are changing all the time. Osumi definitely gave his Vlad quite a bit of enjoyable energy and unique flair, but ultimately, I thought his Vlad was a bit over the top (he’d be a huge hit in a kids’ show), and he seemed to be acting next to rather than with the rest of the cast.
Gleb: Kaiho Naoto / Douchin Yoshikuni / Tashiro Mario
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Gleb, a Bolshevik general trying to fill the shoes of his father who relished executing the Romanov family, is the villain of the show. I was SUPPOSED to see all three Glebs, and I’m quite sad I didn’t, but the flu took Tashiro Mario. I ended up seeing Douchin three times and Kaiho once. This is REALLY HARD, and it’s likely impossible to separate out my feelings toward Kaiho’s Gleb in isolation, because Dmitri, without Kaiho in the role, was not compelling, so the overall impact of the show was less on the not-Douchin day. Kaiho showed up again with the voice that gives you chills, and while his performance throughout most of the show was a bit more low-key, his final scene, in which he attempts to get Anya to admit she’s playing around and return to Russia lest he be forced to shoot her on the spot if she is in fact the real Anastasia, was ABSOLUTELY FUCKING UNHINGED (spit flying everywhere, no wonder everyone got sick). Douchin, however, also has quite a powerful voice, and I think overall he did a better job of coming off as creepy and weird. He was awkward in kind of an is-this-guy-ok way, his barely concealed feelings for Anya were both clearer and more unsettling, and he felt believably indoctrinated into an ideology vs. just this is the villain because we said he’s the villain. His slick, jet-black hair and choice to wear light blue colored contacts also really enhanced the evil image. I really regret not getting to see Tashiro Mario, but I think my ever so slight preference here is Douchin just because his presence balanced the rest of the cast.
Lily: Asami Hikaru / Marcia / Horiuchi Keiko
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Lily is the dowager empress's lady-in-waiting, a former countess who, in her younger days, cheated on her boring husband with Vlad and is currently tending to the dowager empress in refugee-laden Paris. LBR, I didn’t fly across the world to see the other two (although 3 or so days into my trip there was a SCARE where Komu was announced out with an injury, and I thought I might have to… but she recovered in time for my first show!). Ohhhh it was so nice, I missed her more than my COVID-era complacence led me to believe. Lily was a very fun and pleasant Komu role for me. Homegirl is 51 now (don’t talk to me) and fresh taidansha like Tamaki Ryou are getting the heroines she played a decade and a half ago, but Lily isn’t exactly someone’s mom either. She’s funny, and sassy, and wears sick costumes, and has DANCE NUMBERS! Which she did without looking injured at all! With the exception of like 20 seconds in the prologue, Lily does not appear at all until Act 2, but Act 2 is very juicy. I think I liked the look-Vlad’s-back tango even better than her piano-top nightclub solo, but both were utterly delightful. She also has great chemistry with her Yukigumi top senpai Asami Rei, comfortable yet reverent (just like in real life!). I juuuUUUUuuUUUUuuuSsstttt wish they would lower the key for her… just a little… as a treat.........
Dowager Empress Maria: Asami Rei (more like Asami SLAY)
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Y’all… seeing Asami Rei live has BEEN on my bucket list, and the experience did not disappoint. Her voice may be going, but it’s completely age appropriate, and she could have done literally anything up on that stage without it ruining the impact of her presence. I legit inadvertently gasped "mother" into my mask when she made her appearance in a black and silver bejeweled gown to attend the ballet… serving boatloads of charisma uniqueness nerve and talent at 73, to say the least.
The ensemble was also a force and the songs were expertly directed, giving the whole show a stunning sound that has been rare in my experience with Japanese musicals (part vocal talent, part book made for Broadway). The play-within-a-play scene at the ballet was genuinely impressive (it's been a while since I've seen a man jump that high). All in all, a treat to watch!
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macgyvertape · 8 months
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BG3 Act 2 thoughts and liveblog part 1
Yeah act 2 was the point where I just kept my tablet open so I could write down how my character would roleplay things, and this really stopped just a liveblog. Upon reread, I forgot how many people my character killed through dialogue checks, that weren't hard to pass, during this part of the game. To borrow from D2: "I will take what I need. The words in my throat are the weapon in my fist" really does sum up my character.
I went over the mountain pass first. I demanded the goblin fetch his bone after he did that to the animal, “forcing responsibility” my character is worse than whats in the shadows. Fun that Astarion approves of things like this that play to the Dark Urge but are also about striking against abusers
I wiped out the camp then called Kar’niss with Minthara’s lyre then intimidated him when he questioned me. My character is pretending to go along with the cultists right up until they are acceptable targets for attacks, and I turned on Kar’niss during the harper attack
Was not expecting Mol to show up and vouch for me with Jaheira
I got to hug Karlach, it was so emotional. My D!urge character is definitely fond of Karlach and willing to admit that to herself, likes her enough that making Karlach happy and trying to find a third option to Karlach’s dilemma is an influencing decision factor. She’s leaving it to Karlach to choose between death vs going back to the hells and in the meantime really wants to help Karlach live life to the fullest. She would definitely be happy to sleep with Karlach if she wanted that or help her do whatever hedonistic thing she wanted.
Oh so Wyll’s demon patron showed up, I can’t believe he still says he chose right even after my character pointed out he’s everything he accused Karlach of being. D!urge isn’t emotionally invested in Wyll but Karlach is, so she’ll help.
Ok my character definitely doesn’t trust the Dream Guardian but thinks he’s hot in the new outfit, but is really suspicious he’s secretly a mindflayer
I saw the Stange Ox’s thoughts of murder and let it be, if it wants to run from the dark urges, who am my character to say differently
Of course my character sniffed out the truth serum and didn’t drink the wine. It's very easy making consistent character choices that Astarion keeps approving of. Also of course Astarion approves of talking to the cat, he is one
My character does not play chess, good thing she had Astarion and Gale along and just let them help Mol
My character is obviously not going to help the Absolute since she doesn’t want to be a puppet for his cult, anything he wants she doesn’t want him to have. She felt that Dark Urge to let Isobel get killed then thought how the inn would fall and there goes Karlach’s chances of being helped by Dammon, but there was a moment where she was tempted talking to Isobel until she pushed it back since she doesn’t want the D!urge to rule her. 
My character was very flattered that Asatarion said “every step we walk trails blood, killing is an instinct for us. I respect you for that'' especially since Astarion was right there with her doing the killing. My character doesn’t want to turn into a mindflayer but controlling the parasites with Astarion’s plan of a little world domination does sound tempting. Love the idea of him influencing my character into more than just killing the cult 
My character is definitely worried about the butler showed up urging her to kill Isobel
This cool looking guy wants justice for murder victims, my character agreed to help for a reward but also out curiosity since she's a murderer will this guy come after me
Love how Lae’zel is inspired by us killing the undead Drider in 1 turn, yep I’m leading our team to be good at killing
Gave Shadowheart her favorite flower, and told her that she’d give me something in time, since we aren’t so close that my character wouldn’t think of this as an exchange
I let Lae’zel beat me in the fight, but turned her down when she asked me to be hers. I assume that ends the fling so I figure its just a messy relationship that my character feels awkward about
My character’s line in the sand is not extorting a child for money to find their parents, liked the “muster some kindness for once”
Also my character loves the Phalar Aluve sword, all it took was some blood in the underdark and I can buff my allies or hurt enemies around me
Of course I killed the undead brewer with his own brew and was D!urge inspired by it, it was peak my character performing as a bard with my feats, faking the drinking to gain confidence and exploiting an enemy for information
My character has also been running around with Gale nonstop since entering the creche especially since the shadowlands are in her view “weird wizard shit” so he’s designated Moonlantern holder, and I like to think this is the point she finally grows fond of him and his sense of humor and his stories. 
Astarion’s line about pitying the other six stuck with Cazador and how Cazador tortured him, like my character felt really sympathetic listening to that. Cazador was already in the kill list, now its help Astarion kill him extra painfully
My character was surprised Wyll made a pass and it wasn’t just for casual sex, she thinks if Wyll wants a committed relationship there are a lot more morally compatible companions, like Karlach, than her. 
Madeline snitched on people to the Dark Justicars and got them killed in a brutal way and He Who Was wants to torture the souls of murders, seemed the most fitting way was to make her spirit in his body recreate how the people died by stabbing themselves, it seems fair to my character that He Who Was also feels some of the pain if he’s going to be weird about this
My character’s opinion of Shar is dropping with encounters of people like Malus Thorn so she hasn’t been spending much time with Shadowheart. 
Raphael showing up and warning me in his dramatic manner about unleashing a pestilence if a creature makes it out of the tomb I open, my character is definitely on high alert. That Astarion will get his scars translated, adds impetus to not mess around. I then thought this would lock me out of things and left for later
My character did enjoy convincing all the Shar nurses to turn on each other or commit suicide. I killed Sister Lidwin for torturing/kiling Arabella’s parents, figured my character would be happy to avenge them. Used the bard actions to be kind when telling Arabella about her parent’s deaths, and Karlach and Astarion approved which re-emphasises is probably some good positive moral reinforcement for my character
Halsin’s portal was defended by prepping the surrounding area in flammable surfaces and throwing a lot of bombs and fire damage spells
Finally unlocked Halsin as a companion, wish I had figured out how to do this earlier. Oh well, that’s for the next playthrough.
My character is thrilled, she’s super attracted by how buff Halsin is but also finds him really charming. He seems open to causal relationships and she’s impressed that someone who doesn’t had a tadpole joining in to help out and hopefully he can defend himself unlike that poor bard.
The one person my character wishes she could ask for money is Rolan for rescuing him from his own idiocy 
Initial Moonrise tower team is Astarion, Gale, and Halsin. Its an unbalanced team but figured my character would choose along the lines of people who could infiltrate and lie, and would be open to Astarion’s plan of some light world domination plus Halsin who has unfinished business
My character is worried that the cat says she was there before, and wonders how monstrous she was to deliberately step on a cat’s tale. I chose the option “try to remember what was forgotten” and even though it killed the cat I decided to keep that choice for rp purposes, since my past evils aren’t so lost. Want to amp up my character being worried about the loss of control and what monster they were, as well as the fact she’s done risky stuff in this quest to figure out their past or gain more power. 
My character figures whatever monster she might have been the woman mind dominating the knolls to be “better people” is far more fucked up. So of course she influenced the knolls to turn on her, but was surprised and discomforted that they too recognized her
My character gave Araj some of my blood continuing the train of fucking around with sketchy things for power. She spoke up that Astarion was his own person but was like “Astarion why don’t you want to just bite her for this great reward?” since I like to think she’s a little confused on what others will do for power if it isn’t life or death (convincing people about the tadpoles was life or death) and the person hasn’t set firm boundaries. Then when Astarion said he really didn’t want to she was like “don’t do anything you don’t want to”, and when he thanked her, she assumed it was for not trying to persuade him.
Ketheric Thorm immediately got cooler once I heard his voice and recognized it was JK Simmons. Also oh wow its Fezzerk from Blighted Village windmill so many many hours ago
Lol of course my character didn’t speak up for the goblins, it would blow my cover and they were torturing Barcus Wroot when I met them, and they aren’t going free since they serve the Absolute. My D!urge character did “BEG! CHOKE! DIE!” (I originally chose “I will do this with my own hands, it always feels better” and liked it more for the role playing but it gave no Astarion approval)
I sat in Kethric’s throne and Astarion had the funniest dialogue mocking me. Fitting that I then distracted from my mind being searched for loyalty by focusing on my lust for Astarion
Act 2 in the shadowlands has really been my character growing closer to Gale, where she’s moved beyond being fond of him to actually caring for him which makes not feel awkward about how much he really likes her.  Especially since she hasn’t been persuading him to like her, and hasn't pushed him to go for the power and ambition or to be less loyal to Mystra. She's just agreed with his ambitions since he has (in her view) a good mix of pragmatism and morals, and she thinks he's a loyal type of person so she doesn't need to watch her back. So she encouraged him to do the pixie necromancy and then thought it would be a good time to bring up he doesn’t have to live by Mystra’s doctrine and has a choice about the orb.
Yeah of course even though it made Karlach feel bad my character stood with her and listened to 3 sad stories in exchange for some demon coins, and then told her I was her real friend and my D!urge character actually meant it. (Actually I’ve never used the demon coins to empower her since I forgot about that mechanic till now and I’ve been resource hoarding). 
When Astarion thanked my character back at camp again for not forcing him to bite the Drow she was a bit surprised and of course said she doesn’t want him to do anything he doesn’t want to do. My character mentioned “So why sleep with me? Did you think you'd get something from it?” since of course she recognized he was seducing her back in act 1 before they really knew each other, Astarion responded “Of course I needed protection… and seducing you was easy frankly”. My character genuinely respects him for doing that, manipulating her for his own survival and so she’ll like him considering she regularly uses [persuade] and [intimidate]. Astarion mentions he started to genuinely feel something for her, and she responded that she cares about him; genuinely she likes him the most out of the whole group not just romantically but also in terms of the lengths she would go and the things she would do for him. 
Ideally my character could choose all the options of “what do you want to do” and “we can be together without sleeping together for as long as you need” and “open your mind so he sees you care”, but since I can only pick one I figure Astarion knows my character can lie even in their mind so best just talk to him with words. 
When Gale wanted to speak privately and was melancholy about his future death my character took every opportunity to say that they would find another way, he didn’t have to die, but didn’t mention anything about how he might kill innocents because she would kill those same innocents herself to keep Gale alive. When she met Gale on the cliffs it was really I think the moment she acknowledged she cares about Gale and him living, that she’s turning down an easy way to destroy the Absolute. When Gale said “I consider myself lucky to call you my friend” my character genuinely meant it when she said the feeling was mutual.
Prisoner rescue team is: Astarion, Gale, and Karlach. Of course I get the “not to worry I have a permit” when I exploit Balthazar not being around to contradict me having his permission
After talking with the Warden my character is definitely worried they used to be an Absolute cultist before she lost her memory
In the tower jail I used Astarion to 1 hit ko the eyes, then killed the Warden in her tower in 1 hit with an exploding barrel, then threw the gnomes his tools so he could escape, and we made it to the boat without the other 2 guards catching up
My character wants Barcus to realize he can do better than Wulbren, that Wulbren doesn’t like him but is happy to use his concern
After 3 reloads because a companion triggered a trap in the gauntlet of Shar i just said fuck this I’m looking up a walkthrough, this is giving me flashbacks to The Fade section in DA:O
Astarion was upset my character started chatting with the demon in Shar’s Gauntlet, then was impressed when D!urge talked the demon into killing all the companions then itself. My character didn’t care about Astarion saying thanks, she just wanted to see if Astarion was happy with the demon's death and say it was a pleasure to kill him
My character of course was going to help Astarion kill Cazador, she was happy to kill him all the way back in act 1. As for the ritual for vampire ascendant she has her doubts; how many souls need to be sacrificed and is there some other catch.
I didn’t realize we weren’t supposed to follow the rats to the bottom area; then Shadowheart and Gale were inspired when the swarm turned back into a dude and my character was inspired by killing more than 5 enemies in a round. So worked out all around
My character killed Balthazar before continuing through the gauntlet. That was a hard fight, where Gale having counterspell and lots of special arrows helped
My character decided since the deception is at a dead end killing Balthazar she might as well break into Kethric’s quarters. She thought the undead dog Squire was adorable, but all of her fears of her past reading about “the handpicked captain not found in the wreckage” are becoming worse
In front of the Nightsong my character had finally hit the breaking point of tolerance towards Shadowheart’s worship of Shar, and she did charm (to pass the 30 roll persuasion) Shadowheart to not go through with killing the Nightsong because otherwise it would have been a bloodbath killing Shadowheart to stop her.
This is the first time my character used charm/friends on a companion
Looking up other ways to do this afterwards, I guess it fits into role playing my character that over the course of being in the shadowlands and seeing the proof Shar just uses and twists people while Shadowheart stayed devoted, it had a big negative effect on my character's trust in Shadowheart and her loyalties. So much so she pushed the issue at the first opportunity and didn't tell Shadowheart “do what you want” like some other companions, and didn't wait for Shadowheart to change her mind. There's too much on the line to keep the Inn's protections and to fight Ketheric
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faintingheroine · 2 years
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Heathcliff is clearly romantically jealous of Catherine, I don’t think that’s disputable. And he does blame Catherine too.
“He might spare himself the trouble,” said Heathcliff “I could do as well without his approbation. And as to you, Catherine, I have a mind to speak a few words now, while we are at it. I want you to be aware that I know you have treated me infernally—infernally! Do you hear? And if you flatter yourself that I don’t perceive it, you are a fool; and if you think I can be consoled by sweet words, you are an idiot; and if you fancy I’ll suffer unrevenged, I’ll convince you of the contrary, in a very little while! Meantime, thank you for telling me your sister-in-law’s secret: I swear I’ll make the most of it. And stand you aside!”
“What is it to you?” he growled. “I have a right to kiss her, if she chooses; and you have no right to object. I am not your husband; you needn’t be jealous of me!”
“Having levelled my palace, don’t erect a hovel and complacently admire your own charity in giving me that for a home. If I imagined you really wished me to marry Isabel, I’d cut my throat!”
He does prioritize Cathy’s happiness, he worships Cathy and Cathy is the clearly more dominant party here, he isn’t a bitter friendzoned dude lol, but he is bitter that Cathy chose Edgar over him - even if there isn’t a love triangle or a preference for Cathy, there is clearly a one in Heathcliff’s mind.
““I wish you joy of the milk-blooded coward, Cathy!” said her friend. “I compliment you on your taste. And that is the slavering, shivering thing you preferred to me!”
I wouldn’t say that romantic jealousy is a defining characteristic of Heathcliff. I agree that his revenge is more about the abuse he had endured and his initial intention was killing Hindley then himself by his own admission, and maybe he wouldn’t bother with going after the Lintons if Isabella hadn’t given him the opportunity on a silver platter, but romantic jealousy is there, and it does factor in his revenge against the Lintons.
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morvantmortuary · 1 year
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OKAY Can I just say, you confused the shit out of me 😂 sorry but let me explain.
So I was looking through the plus size reader tag on AO3. Just looking for some good fat girl representation. And I came across a fic that was Hector Morvant-Casares/Reader. I didn't recognize what it was from so I googled it and NOTHING but mortuaries and tumblr links came up.
I clicked the tumblr link thinking it'd explain what show or movie or podcast etc this fandom was from. It did not. But I saw the face claims on your page and went to the actors imdb pages to see if anything came up. Nothing.
Long story short, it took me way too long to realize this was completely original work (and frankly I'm still not 100% sure if I'm right so 🤷‍♀️). I'm definitely going to be reading this but holy shit, I felt like a dog chasing it's own tail for a good 30 minutes. Bless you for making me laugh at myself today.
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I hope it’s okay that I’m answering these together bc HAHSHDJFLGLGAHSJDKF BABE this was such a rollercoaster to find in my inbox 😂 please know that every time I’ve thought about these asks since you sent them I’ve started grinning like a lunatic, to the point of people around me literally asking me what I was smiling about 🥰🖤🖤🖤
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I appreciate your patience in my getting back to you, this is the time of year where I’m pulled in several directions at once and seem to be cursed to get sick on top of that!! but I definitely wanted to let you know how much these asks have meant to me 🖤🖤🖤
it’s deeply, deeply flattering in the first place to give the impression (even mistakenly!) that this is a large scale legit series at all, to the point that you’d check imdb pages!! 🥰 I can totally chalk that up to you finding it on AO3 though - I know it’s not typically a place that’s associated with original fic, and as though as I try to be in tagging the mortuary as such, I know it’s probably even less expected to see x reader original fic lmao. Idk what it is about writing in second person, I think I just associate it with writing for fun now!!
but even moreso, I am just thrilled to pieces that not only did you like what you found, you liked it enough to read the whole thing and send it to a friend!! 🖤🖤🖤 that really means the whole world to me, and it’s not something I take lightly at all!! this is really, really kind of you to take the time and let me know, thank you so much 🥰🥰🥰 you’re definitely not the first to let me know Hex is your fave — I know Maxi has my fingerprints all over him due to coming out of my particular brain space, so he can be kinda specific 😂 I am so curious how your star chart compatibility turned out (but trust me, as much as he likes astrology, Hex would be into you no matter what your sign was lol 😘)
I’ve been working on his arc forever, and I think I’m thisclose to finally being able to start on it, so I’ll be very excited to share it with you when it’s time!! In the meantime, I have some requests for him that I’m still working on, and some stuff I cut from the first arc that I felt was too meander-y, so he’s nowhere close to being finished, trust me 🖤
I know this is long, but thank you so so much for taking the time to tell me about your time reading!! 🥰 there’s no higher compliment than hearing my murder scrimblos have become someone’a blorbos, for real!!
sending you and your friend all the hugs from our neck of the woods, babe!! 🖤🖤🖤
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meetmeatthecoda · 11 months
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Somehow, even though I haven't watched in years - and am 0% tempted to tonight - I've still got this tiny sliver of anxiety about the ending of The Blacklist. Is that crazy? It's like I know they can't possibly wrap up the story in a way I'll be happy or satisfied with (and after the 8th season I mostly gave up caring about what happens in "canon")...and yet I'm sure when I hear about what happened in the finale it's going to feel like one last, poorly written gut punch.
How are you feeling about tonight?
Hiya, anon ❤️ Ugh, can I just say that you summed up my tangle of feelings absolutely perfectly? 🥺 More specifically, no, that is not crazy at all. I am in the same place as you with not caring about any of it anymore - not since 8.22 ripped my fucking heart out - & I literally can't think of anything I'd like to do less than watch the series finale. But even in the years since 8.22, there was still that awareness that the show was still out there somewhere, even if I only heard drips & drabs, & I scoffed at it all, & I didn't give a tiny rat's ass what happened. And while that remains true, the fact that it's OFFICIALLY ending (despite the fact that it ended for us two years ago) is... a little sobering. For me, I think it's a reminder of the pain & grief of The Terrible Awful™️ 😓
Also, yes, anon, I completely understand the sliver of anxiety & dread... I felt the same thing when I heard that they were finally blessedly cancelled & again when I realized the last ep was coming up... I can only speak for myself, but I think it's bc I still care at least a little about Red &, deep down, I still want a happy ending for him, even though I fully believe he can't have one without Liz. But I have zero faith in TPTB & I'm sure they will make it a nebulous, "cool" ending with no real answers, like always, or they'll confirm godforsaken R*darina, or they'll just kill off Red because they're incapable of writing anything else. And I'm sure every other aspect of it will be disappointing, like Ressler being the hero or something (LMFAO) & it will be awful all around. I have no other expectations & I suppose I have to either accept it and/or ignore whatever happens AND/OR consider it all a crap AU & Lizzington as our canon. But the way you describe it, "one last, poorly written gut punch", perfectly describes how I feel. I tell myself that none of it matters anymore - it's not like we're getting a Lizzington ending lolz - but I think I'm just afraid of being hurt again bc, for all my posturing, I know TPTB still have the power to do that, simply bc I still care just a tiny bit. Despite all the heartbreak I've already felt... a little remains of the show, the characters, & my heart for them to destroy 💔
Idk if that made any sense at all, anon, but I hope I communicated at least 3 things: 1) you're not alone in the way you feel, 2) the ending will probably hurt & ache & betray in just the way we're afraid of, & 3) we simply have to deal with the residual hurt, know that TPTB failed us & it's not our fault, &... cherish what we had by holding our Lizzington AU close to our hearts & keeping them alive through fanfic... at least, that's what I plan on doing. So, feel free to drop another ask if you want to talk more, anon, I would certainly love to commiserate & work through our feelings together tbh, & btw I'm very flattered you came to my ask box with this & wanted to know how I feel, thank you for being so sweet. In the meantime, hang in there, anon, you're definitely not alone, & much love to you, my friend ❤️
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autisticmao · 5 months
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GENRE: fluff
FEATURED: trickstar
WARNINGS: none
PROMPT: isara wakes up and hears trickstar comparing him and each other to silly little things
WORD COUNT: 681
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"I'd say he's more like a home-cat."
"Right idea, but wrong theme Hokke!"
"I didn't know there was a theme, I thought we were just comparing him to things in our opinions?"
Isara's hearing wavers in and out for a moment as his mind awakened. He blinks his eyes open, still with a slight daze of exhaustion as he glances around. He sees that he's in a room of sorts — a hotel room, more likely.
The atmosphere felt warm and calming, the right aura for a few hours of relaxing himself before heading back to the school and going back to his usual everyday duties.
A sudden yawn escapes between his lips, a small noise emitting from him as it happens, which catches the rest of Trickstar's attention.
"Isara, are you awake?" Comes the question from Makoto.
Isara nods and replies with a deep hum as he sits himself up. The thick winters duvet once wrapped around his shoulders now pooled in his lap.
He reaches a hand up to his eyes to swipe some of the dry sleep dirt out of the way to clear the blurry haze from his eyesight.
In the meantime, Hokuto walks over to him with a small plastic bag of food. It was nothing much, just a sandwich and a snack bar featuring a bottle of raspberry milkshake. "Here, it's nothing as good as we had for dinner last night, but... it's all we could get when spending our money."
A smile of gratefulness reaches Isara's features. "I understand. Thanks, Hokuto." He replies as he undoes the boxing of his sandwich and immediately takes a bite out of it.
He then notices that Hokuto, Subaru, and Makoto were all dressed in day clothing, minus for their shoes that still sat by the wooden door of the hotel room.
He swallowed the small bite resting in his mouth and glanced between the trio who now sat on their own respective beds. "I heard faint talking from you guys... something about a cat?" He tilts his head to the side in thought as an idea hits his mind, his kelly greens widening to show so.
"Is there one around here?!" He hoped as he dropped his sandwich back into its box and glanced over the edge of the bed he lied on, eyes frantically clocking back and forth to look.
"Sorry, Sally! There's no cats around here." Akehoshi replies with shaking his head no. "We were just... playing a game whilst waiting for you to wake up!" He grins at the younger.
"A game... like the one's Makoto plays?"
A nervous laugh comes from the mentioned blond, "it's a different game we were playing. We were comparing each other to things. I can't remember how we even got onto that subject. It's odd but very fun!"
"Which reminds me," Hokuto coughs, "I still stand where I am with my opinion."
Isara quirked an eyebrow towards Hokuto in wonder.
"No!" Subaru suddenly whines then huffs, "like I said before: there's a theme! And this round is food!"
"You didn't say that before!"
"Yeah, I did!"
"Since when, Akehoshi?"
As Hokuto and Subaru argued together about the 'game', Isara looked away in awkwardness and carried on eating his late brunch.
The arguing goes on for a few minutes extra until Makoto seems to break it — not by interrupting the duo but because he spoke a thought out loud.
"If Isara was a food... I'd say he's a marshmallow."
Isara looked on in confusion, "what...?"
"I can see that, actually." Hokuto announces.
"Ooh yeah, I agree! Because Sally is so sweet, cute, and squishy and..." Subaru goes into a rant, technically complimenting Isara along the way, which the mentioned boy couldn't help but feel flattered and yet embarrassed at the same time.
Subaru then suddenly gasps, "and his name is 'Mao'! If you combine them together, you get Marshmaollow~!"
If Isara ever had to admit something about his friends... it is the fact that they can all be odd at times.
But he wouldn't trade them for the world.
0 notes
lyaenidae · 2 years
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Kenta’s weekend away - day 2
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The second morning, everyone has breakfast together, and Kenta seems to be the last one to get out of bed. When he gets to the table, Taku and Nanami are in the middle of a conversation, and Miki greets him with a smile and a wave, asking him how he feels.
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Kenta answers not thinking much of it, maybe even a bit flattered that Miki’s interest in him goes deeper than just politely saying hi. But his girlfriend sitting on the other side of him, she seems to be deep in her thoughts, from that point on
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Of course, Gabe notices quickly and he’s not having it... He’s a bit pissed, but he reasons himself and tries to remember that Kenta and him cleared the air yesterday and that he doesn’t mean to be a bad boyfriend to Masami... Still, it’s a good thing that they are leaving the house early to go into town today, because the atmosphere is a bit heavy.
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To get to the town center, they go by a graveyard, and everyone decides to go in, to look at names. Nanami makes friend with the first person she crosses paths with, and starts asking what cool things they can do around here. Gabe, on the other side of the lot, starts looking at one of the gravestones with a thoughtful look on his face. Turns out it’s one of his ancestors, and Kenta doesn’t hesitate to come by to check on his friend.
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“Hey, you alright ?” he simply asks. “Yeah, don’t worry about me bro, you should probably worry about Sami more right now...” “You think I should worry about Masami ? Why ?” says Kenta, really confused for a second. “I don’t know really, but she seemed upset this morning, just saying.”“says Gabe with the nicest tone he can. “Okay dude, no worries, i’ll talk to her, promise !”
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Next thing everyone knows, Nanami has taken them to one of the only exciting places in town she’s learned about : a karaoke bar ! And just like that, everyone has to endure a very very loud cover of Total Eclipse of the Heart by Taku and Nanami.
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While it’s very clear that these two are very in love and not hesitating to make a show of it, Kenta can feel that Masami indeed seems to be a bit down. So he sits next to her and asks her if anything’s bothering her.
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“Hum, yeah something’s bothering me alright Kenta ! I know I agreed to give you a little space last night because you don’t want to be all over each other, but it doesn’t mean you have to start making moves on other girls !!” “What are you even talking about Sami ?” “This morning at breakfast, not one word to me, but oh you were very close to Miki it seems ?! What was that for, uh ? Do you want to make me jealous or something ?” she says, going a bit too quickly for Kenta to follow.
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“Not at all, she simply asked me a question and I answered it ! What am I meant to do, ignore everyone else than you ?! You didn’t even talk to me anyway, I don’t know why I’m to blame in this !” “You know what, it doesn’t matter...” Masami starts, tears in her eyes all of a sudden. “I’m sure I’ll get over it on my own, no need to talk about it further.”
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“Well, I hope you know I didn’t mean to hurt you...” says Kenta feeling bad. “It’s okay, maybe I overreacted, Kenta, maybe I didn’t realise it, but I think I have a bit of trouble accepting what you asked of me yesterday, but it’ll pass... Eventually...” she answers. “Okay... Tell me if I can do anything to make it better in the meantime.” “I’ll tell you if I figure it out” she promises.
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Later on, they leave the bar and Kenta stops to buy some fresh countryside products, but also to make sure the others are a bit ahead and he can stay back with his friend Taku.
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“Dude ! Look at this ! On the internet, you have to pay triple the price for all those fresh products I bought !” Kenta is amazed of the quality and low prices, but Taku doesn’t seem very interested. He does catch his friend’s interest though, when he asks if he can talk to him about something.
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“I really don’t know what to do with Masami dude... I know we’ve talked about it before and you know about this whole situation, so why didn’t you tell me Gabe had a massive crush on her ?!” “Not my place Ken, you know I couldn’t tell you, he asked me to keep it secret.” says Taku, no hesitation. “Yeah, I know, of course... I just think it could have made it so much easier...”
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“Because you would have had an excuse to say no to Sami ?” chuckles Taku, knowing very well how Kenta’s brain made sense of all of this. “Well, yeah ! I could have been like ‘Sorry, but it’d be betraying my friend to say yes to a relationship with you...’ and then the whole thing could have been avoided !” explains Kenta, despair in his voice. “First of all : you know you never actually said yes to anything, that’s been the problem since the start, you kinda just had to go along with it. And second : you can always use this excuse now, if you really want to get out of it !”
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“Wait, that’s true !” “Mmmh, I know.” laughs Taku. “Although I don’t know why you’d want to break things off with her. I mean having a girlfriend is much better than not having one in my opinion.” “That’s only because you’re in love with yours, Tak !” “Maybe I do feel something for her... Or maybe I just like the attention and the things we do together !” his friend says.
On the way back, after they started heading towards the BnB again, they found a football and decided to stop and play together a bit. Kenta’s mind settled a bit thanks to this moment outside of the group.
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After this, it’s a case of going home, eating dinner, and then as Taku and Nanami sneak out to ‘look at the stars’ in the observatory, the others have to find something else to do.
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“Fro the first game, Gabe you can team up with Masami, but after that, I want to be her teammate !” says Kenta, feeling like that would probably make things better between him and his girlfriend, without being too harsh on Gabe.
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And it seems to work ! At the end of the third game, Gabe makes everyone laugh by looking through the window and saying “I’m sure the stars these two are seeing tonight aren’t in the sky, considering it’s pouring rain !”
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And the telescope is moving, but not in a very smooth way, indeed...
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0 notes
thefanficmonster · 4 years
Text
Love For The Faceless
Corpse Husband x Youtuber!Reader(Female)
Warnings: Swearing
Genre: Fluff 
Summary: Y/N is a YouTube gamer who has recently gained a much larger following thanks to the streams she does with her friends. Naturally, considering her faceless and bodiless nature, people are starting to get curious about her. When she finally follows her friend Corpse’s example, a lot more than her hands is revealed.
Requested by anon, you know who you are 😉 Thank you so much for placing a request and hope this fic fulfills the expectations you have for it.
“Hey!“ I greet the lobby as I finally hop into the Discord call after quickly saying ‘hi‘ to my audience.
I’ve been a YouTuber for four years now and I’ve only recently started streaming, encouraged to do so by my best friend Rae. She’s the one who got me in multiplayer games such as Among Us and Phasmophobia which led me to meet her amazing gaming squad that consists of some of the most famous names on the platform. They are all wonderful people and I will forever be in Rae’s debt for introducing me to them. However, becoming friends with Felix, Sean and the rest of the team brought not only a more fulfilled life, but also a small boost in following. Who am I kidding, it wasn’t small. It was overwhelming, terrifying even.
My YouTube channel had a little over a million subscribers at the start of quarantine and now....now it’s closer to three million. Speaking of three million, I’m about to reach it any day now and it’s really hard to believe. I’m a gaming youtuber and I’ve never considered changing my genre despite expecting to not get any attention whatsoever, with all the big names on the platform. I was convinced not even as many as a hundred people would stumble across my videos and now here we are.
My OG subscribers are very supportive of my sudden growth and are defending me when my newer fans ask for a face reveal or whatnot. While we’re on that topic I might have to mention that not even my YouTube friends, and that includes Rae have seen my face. I’ve been faceless and bodiless for the entirety of my time on social media. Some claim I do it to grab more attention or for dramatic effect, but the reason is beyond that. I’m not shallow. Actually, shallow people are the reason I don’t show my face. I’ve never been the prettiest, but my middle school bully thought that I wasn’t lacking self confidence enough. As a result, I ended up with a not so handsome scar on my right cheek that starts from the corner of my mouth and nearly misses my eye. Yeah, it’s a long and pretty noticeable scar that has thankfully become less and less obvious as the years have progressed. Still, it’s not something I’d like to show to my viewers.
Eight ‘hi’s greet me back, each making my smile grow wider. “Sorry I’m late guys. Technical difficulties.” 
“Don’t worry.“ Rae’s voice dominates over the rest, “Corpse still isn’t here so we’re waiting for him.“
I mute myself on the Discord call and take a look at my comments. I’m most flattered by the comments about my voice. Seeing as how they don’t have much to compliment about me other than my content, they make the nicest comments about my voice, personality and humor. Those comments are the ones who warm my heart most. Even when people in my day to day life compliment my appearance I can’t find it in me to believe they are being genuine. I’d like to believe these amazing people are being one hundred percent honest when they tell me they like me for who I am and not for what I might look like.
“Sorry I’m late guys.“ A deep voice causes me to even physically jolt, switching my focus from the comments to the Among Us lobby where my eyes land on the newly materialized black avatar.
“Hi Corpse.“ Rae greets him.
“Hello mister who broke Twitter!“ Sean laughs, provoking the laughter of the rest of the players.
“Yeah, congratulations man. That’s a big deal.“ Felix chimes in.
“Thanks guys, but I think you’re forgetting we’re talking about a picture of my hand.“ Corpse chuckles timidly. I have noticed how shy he gets when someone gives him a compliment - like a snail slowly withdrawing in its shell. I find it adorable.
“That’s what makes it even better!“ I unmute my mic, sending my own congratulations.
“While we’re on that topic...“ Rae begins, waiting for the rest of us to shut our traps, suggesting she has something important to say. “Y/N, do you ever plan on doing a reveal like that? Not a face reveal. Just a body part reveal.“
I have no problem talking about the subject with friends but I get nervous when I’m supposed to discuss it with my fans. Seeing as how everyone, including myself, is streaming right now, I get a bit of a stutter in my speech. “Haven’t thought about it yet. But I guess a body part reveal is harmless.” I cringe immediately after letting the words leave my mouth, “That sounds so weird.”
Rae knows that I’m not too fond of my face, but I haven’t told her about my scar yet. I let almost all people I’ve met online think I’m using my lack of appearance for effect. For the mystery of it all. Mysteries attract people which equals attention. Attention equals views and the domino effect continues.
“Just a suggestion. No pressure.“ Rae adds quickly, knowing full well I get anxious when the subject is brought up in front of cameras. “Let’s get this game started, shall we.”
                                                          * * *
The idea dwells in my mind, sitting on the back burner even after I disconnect from the Discord call. I’m sitting in my gaming chair, which was a gift for my two million milestone, and weighing out the pros and cons of the action Rae suggested I take.
“It’s a picture of your fucking hand, dummy. How bad can it turn out?“ I say out loud, shaking my head at my indecisiveness. “You’ll be fine.”
In a blur, two pictures are already posted on my Instagram. The first one captioned ‘Took a leaf from my friend’s book. Did I do it right @ corpsehusband?’ and the second ‘Thanks, Rae. These are on you.’
Rae’s POV
As I’m watching a movie in my living room, I get a notification from Instagram, informing me that Y/N has posted for the first time in a while.
I scoff, “More like the first time in forever.”
The first thing that comes to my mind is the possibility of her reaching that three million milestone that’s been long time coming. I bring the glass of water that’s sitting on my coffee table to my lips, taking a sip as I tap the notification. The picture I see makes me hurry to put the glass back down so I don’t drop it. Y/N’s hand. Her fingers are covered with several thin rings each. And here I thought Corpse had too many rings, this girl has at least two on every finger! 
Then my eyes land on the second picture she has posted only minutes after the first and my heart drops. I struggle to get the water that’s been sitting in my moth down my esophagus while my mind is struggling with the task to comprehend the picture I’m looking at. 
Another hand is resting on top of Y/N’s. A hand also covered in rings but fewer and larger. The nails are painted black. 
I think I know who it belongs to.
Before I can even finish the thought, I’m dialing Y/N. She picks up after the second ring, sound cheery as ever as she greets me. “Hey Rae!”
“Don’t you ‘Hey Rae’ me!” I practically scream. I hate being kept in the dark about anything ever so this is just driving me mad. On top of all, she’s my best friend, for fuck’s sake. “Is that Corpse in the photo with you?!”
“Ugh....“ the cheeriness to her voice is all but gone now.
I go on with my rant, not giving her the time to reply. Not that she would reply. I bet she doesn’t know what to say. “So he knows where you live?! Or was the picture taken at his place?! He knows what you look like?! You have seen him! He has seen you in real life but me, your best friend, haven’t!!! You are breaking Covid 19 protection laws to take pictures?! Are you fucking serious, Y/N?!”
There’s a long moment of silence which frustrates me even more but I literally have run out of things to yell and the power to be angry. I mean, I still am, I just can’t express it.
“Rae, sweetheart, please calm down. You’re scary when you’re mad.“ This girl has some fucking nerve! She’s on the verge of laughing!
“Listen here you...“ 
“Rae, please stop scaring my girlfriend.“ That oh so distinguishable, oh so familiar voice interrupts me.
I am flabbergasted, for a lack of a better term.
“Now that we’ve got you quiet, I can explain.“ Y/N pics up the conversation, “Corpse and I have been dating for six, almost seven months now. We started dating around Easter after talking for quite some time. We moved in together at the end of September. All thanks to you, Rae. You’re the best.” She pauses to breathe in real quick, “There, all caught up?“
I’m in no less shock than I was before she explained. Actually, I think I might be even more confused now. It all just feels like a fever dream. “Yes...no. I don’t fucking know! I need details, Y/N!”
“Details later.“ Corpse makes his presence known once again, “We’re watching Family Guy right now. Talk to you later.“
“Love you, Rae!“ Y/N calls out before the line goes dead.
My arm goes limp, dropping my phone on the couch next to me. 
“Motherfuckers” I mumble under my breath.
Y/N’s POV
It’s been a week since Rae has stopped talking to both Corpse and me. I know she just needs some time to cool off. In the meantime, the rest of our friends were informed and, as oppose to Rae, were nothing but supportive and overjoyed. I bet Rae feels the same way though. Sean, Dave and the rest of the gang have confirmed that she’s incredibly happy for us and says she noticed a spark between me and him since day one, but she can’t help but be mad at us, and especially me, for not telling her sooner.
“Any regrets?“ I remember Corpse asking me when we hung up on her after dropping the bomb.
“Not being able to see her face when she saw the picture.“ I beam at him, feeling as content as ever.
He laughs, agreeing with me before leaning down to kiss me.
@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios
3K notes · View notes
iknewyoudunderstand · 3 years
Note
omg thanks for understanding! I feel bad because I want to support everyone’s work but sometimes I can’t read it :/ but if you’re taking requests, what about Hotch accidentally walking in on Spencer talking to Penelope about his crush on Hotch?
“I know something you don’t know!”
“Statistically unlikely,” Spencer says, his voice thick from the early morning and the copious sugar in his coffee. “But it’s possible.”
Penelope, a shock of pink on an overall beige day at work, bounces on her toes. Her chunky jewelry clinks and clatters as she jumps around. If his brain wasn’t still sleep-addled, it would be too much for him, but he’s been up all night and his coffee hadn’t kicked in yet and he wasn’t prepared for a conversation so early in the morning. Right now, his senses are coasting on him barely being able to process the stimuli. The sun is barely even up. He has to summon a lot of energy to even make his mouth move.
“What do you know?”
“It’s a secret!”
He sighs. “Garcia, it’s 7:30 and you’re going a million miles an hour. Can you just tell me?”
She stops bouncing, arms dropping to her sides. Something like a scowl, an over-exaggerated imitation of Hotch, settles on her face. “Reid, that’s no fun.”
“Why does it have to be fun?”
“Because I love fun! Everyone knows this—it’s one of my best and most obvious features. Now ask me!”
“Ask you what?”
Penelope lets out a loud, put-upon sigh. “You’re killin’ me, whizz kid.”
“You’re killing me!”
“I would never.”
“What’s the secret?!”
“It’s your secret.” Her eyes flash and her smile turns devilish. “I know who you have a crush on!”
Spencer stops cold. “Garcia, I’m twenty-four. I-I don’t have a crush. I don’t have crushes. I haven’t had crushes since I was thirteen. No adult has crushes—”
“You absolutely have a crush. You’re stuttering, you’re doing that hand thing—” Spencer stuffs his hands in his pockets to stop himself from wringing them. “Uh huh. I’m not a profiler, but I know the signs! You have a crush.”
“So?” His voice cracks so loud he winces. “Listen, it… most adults spend a minimum of 1,680 hours in the office per year.” Penelope scoffs. “Exactly. So there’s not really anyone else for us. It’s very normal to be attracted to people you spend so much of your time with! There was a study in 1968 where college students were shown photos of faces, and some photos were shown up to twenty-five times while others were only shown once or twice, and the most liked faces were those that had been seen more. Prolonged exposure leads to increased attraction, so it’s normal that someone like Hotch would be—”
“You have a crush on Hotch?!”
Spencer throws his arms up. He probably won’t need a second cup of coffee, because he could run a marathon—as long as he is running in the complete opposite direction of this conversation. “Everyone has a crush on Hotch! It’s simple psychology! People are attracted to authority; in evolutionary terms, a person in a position of power is seen as someone with resources and abilities that will create viable offspring—” Garcia’s eyes go wide and Spencer feels like he’s dying. His face is so hot, sweat is beading on his upper lip. “Not that—I’m not saying that, I’m saying that’s where it comes from. It’s an instinctual attraction.”
“Spencer—”
“Plus, plus, I mean, he’s also… I mean, as a person, he’s…” The words are stuck behind his teeth and under his tongue. This is the first time he’s ever said any of this out loud, and these feelings have been rattling around in his head for so long it’s strange to let them out. “There’s obviously more dimension to him than just as an authority figure. He’s intelligent, he’s compassionate, he’s passionate… the intensity created in a work situation can mirror the intensity we experience in sexual relationships, so… oh, God—”
“Reid!” Penelope hisses. She grabs his arm, her fingernails sharp like talons, and stops his train wreck of thought.
“Everyone has a crush on me?” Hotch asks, his eyebrows almost at his hairline. Briefcase in hand, obviously having just walked in, Spencer can’t tell if he’s horrified or amused or concerned or any combination of those because Spencer cannot look at him. Spencer is five seconds away from curling up on the floor and transforming into a pile of confetti, with “IDIOT” inscribed on every shred of paper. Penelope seems to be five seconds away from hyperventilating. “I think that’s a little generous.”
“Hotch, I am so sorry—”
He holds up a hand. Spencer nearly swallows his tongue. Penelope’s nails just might draw blood.
“I’m very flattered,” Hotch says softly. “In the future, there are more appropriate places to have conversations such as these—as I have already told you several times, Garcia.”
“Sorry,” she squeaks.
“In the meantime, everyone will be here shortly; we’re being called in to Oregon for a series of missing children cases.” They lock eyes. As always, it sucks the air right out of his lungs. “If you feel comfortable, Reid, we can discuss this more once we return home.”
“Uh… yeah. Yeah.”
Hotch smiles. It’s small, but the hint of a dimple on his cheek and the crinkling at the corners of his eyes spell out genuine… something. Something genuine. Spencer refuses to let hope bubble up in his chest, just like he refuses every time they brush fingers or shoulders or Hotch looks at him for too long, or when he notices Hotch listening intently to his rambling or laughing at his obscure jokes. He squashes it down every time Hotch shows how much he cares—more than any boss would—and, yes, every time Hotch shows exactly how capable he is, in the field and at containing and responding to all Spencer’s chaos and fragility… that’s just who Hotch is. Everyone has a crush on Hotch because he does that for everyone. Spencer refuses to foster hope—but hope settles in him.
Hotch smiles at him, and then he walks away.
“What just happened?” Spencer asks.
“I think I just got you laid.”
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wolfcamellias · 2 years
Text
Chess
Nobody asked for this but: here’s how LBD and SWK first interacted.. before the Helmet and everything tw: mild gore (1.6k, written on my phone in a hazy spurr.. awoo.. enjoy qwq)
There’s a clock.
Agreeing to come to the promised room allowed the chance for nightmares to seep through the cracks of the fractured walls of his soul, sending through the trembles of an earthquake, paving the way for those little imps of fear and regret to climb their way on golden armor. They paint the symbol of the gods black and red, pawing their little claws on the fabric and tearing it off as he walks through the corridor of the mind; he doesn’t try to remove them nor does he care when the first piece of his armor hits the floor with a loud clunk, the noise soon swallowed up by the ground and, ultimately, becoming a piece of her own abyss.
White moves her queen two spaces forwards.
Lady Bone Demon speaks first: I must say I was in awe by the prompting of your proposal; it is not everyday that the beloved Heavenly Trickster calls you to form a pact for the sake of saving a little mortal’s life. I am intrigued. Lay your staff on the table.
Qitian Dasheng: I will not.
Lady Bone Demon: Do you want this arrangement to end quickly? You are wise; I cannot overlook the amount of times I replay our last encounter, the decision to seal me away with every strength in your bone, allowing me to witness the visual appeal of watching a mighty god fall to his knees from exhaustion and fatigue and sickness after conjuring up such a spell—I am flattered that you think of me after all these years. Compensate for your insolence; lay your staff on the table.
Qitian Dasheng: This is not about the staff.
The clock ticks anxiously.
Obsession; they lack the ability to think of anyone but the one true topic of their minds: to tear the other in half and watch the blood drip from the dying corpse in hand, sink their teeth into the pulsing veins of blue and red and tear them out to witness the cascading waterfall of blue or gold and let it pool under their feet; Sun Wukong teeters close to the edge of his designation side of the abyss and leans forward, pressing his forehead against the invisible wall that separates him from the vengeful spirit in front of him. He feels his eyes and lips twitch under her gaze and her next words curl nicely beneath his skin.
She is unglamoured. The highest form of respect is introducing your hands to the awaiting god, showing that you favor this meeting over the countless others proposed by the wicked and the damned; it’s curtesy and formality to appear to someone of higher power with the most dangerous of attires and strut with the confidence that you are on the equal grounds as someone who has mastered the element of death and war; but she dips her head in greeting and smiles for a fraction of a second, watching as Wukong digs his finger into the force that separates them and tear a piece of it away, golden eyes turning to slits as the magic that divides them quickly sews itself back together. He smiles.
Lady Bone Demon: The staff is but a weapon, that I know. A valuable weapon that’s sucked the life out of you for over five hundred years, channeling your magic and gaining your abilities to an extent. It saved that boy of yours, once.
Sun Wukong: I’m aware.
Lady Bone Demon: Yet you do not have it.
Qitian Dasheng: Have we ever had a conversation that did not involve the inclusion of bloodshed or massacre? This awful dance of ours, the steps taken to make sure that you were sealed away with enough room to breathe, and the isolation I faced for hundreds of years in return—have we not suffered enough?
Lady Bone Demon: I await your proposal.
Qitian Dasheng: When the clock strikes twelve, I will tell you.
Lady Bone Demon: What would you like to do, in the meantime? Revisit memories? Conjure up something of your tastes?
Sun Wukong: Speak with me.
Lady Bone Demon: Very well.
Sun Wukong: Have you ever died?
Lady Bone Demon: I cannot say.
Sun Wukong: Do you feel empathy?
Lady Bone Demon: I cannot say.
Qitian Dasheng: What are your plans?
Lady Bone Demon: I cannot say.
Sun Wukong: What is love?
Lady Bone Demon: I cannot—
Sun Wukong: Baby, don’t hurt me.
He waits.
The ground shakes. He expected more.
He expects a stab wound; he visualizes it. The pale demon watches with dimmed eyes always calculating, always strategizing—or perhaps she was indifferent to the way a knife can easily slide down the middle of Wukong’s face and peel down the outer skin from its place, taking away the peach colors and replacing it with scarred tissue, specks of flame and tar; she breathes quietly at the way he opens his mouth and lets the blood pour out of his throat, those little imps collecting the gold as if it were treasure, bathing in it shamelessly before its soaked away by the conscious of his own mind. Cleansed. He looks at the spirit.
Time does not move.
This field of energy is inside the labyrinth of two conjoined minds; it is not dangerous to stay there for too long and it will not prevent either of them from leaving at any time they so please but side effects are a common footnote when it comes to magic, good or bad, black or white, before they are mixed together to form varying shades of grey across the field of broken minds and bodies laid out for the vultures to feast on. His beloved vulture king died. Wukong misses him; Qitian Dasheng does not remember him. The rules are unspoken and, so, they do not address them regardless of their dance together. Sun Wukong picks at a scab on his palm and the pale lady watches, unwavered. She blinks and he stares.
Sun Wukong: Your existence confuses me.
Lady Bone Demon: How so?
Sun Wukong: This is not you; you are a persona formed from eons of watching souls walk past your tomb, laughing and manipulating and killing and strangling each other with words and actions alike. You are nothing. An empty husk full of magic and vengeance. It confuses me.
Lady Bone Demon: Which aspect?
Sun Wukong: Do you breathe? Do you eat? Do you feel? You answer me with the same prompt every time that I have lost interest in engaging with you.
Lady Bone Demon: You are the one who told me to wait until your clock strikes twelve.
Qitian Dasheng: Ours. Not once have I tried to manipulate the time for it would slow and the clock would stop ticking; do you hear it? The slow movement of the hands as the seconds pass? The sun has not yet risen outside of this mindscape; we are asleep and the world is unknowing.
Lady Bone Demon: You cannot hold me forever here, Old Sun.
Qitian Dasheng: I do not want to.
Lady Bone Demon: I’m perplexed.
Black responds by moving his own queen pawn two spaces forward.
Qitian Dasheng: What do you desire?
Lady Bone Demon: At this moment in time; your power.
Qitian Dasheng: I shall give it to you.
Lady Bone Demon: I do not understand your plan.
Qitian Dasheng: Impulsiveness has been a flaw of mine from the moment I opened my eyes; the scorch of the sun has tainted me and warned me time and time again of the consequences that I will face if I listen to my non-existing heart; I breathe and exhale the sins of my actions every day, pale lady, I can feel the scars of my undertone begin to rise as that black tar takes hold of me once more. You corrupt me; I want to have a taste of it for myself. I do not want power, I want to know what it is like to be one with a spirit that holds no virtues nor values, born from rot with a single title to its name and nothing else.
Lady Bone Demon: This is what you desire?
Qitian Dasheng: I desire happiness. I do not deserve it, however.
Lady Bone Demon: You’re making a fool’s play.
Qitian Dasheng: What if I am? You will take it, regardless, because you are not a fool—I will take your hand in mine and when we awake I shall tell you my plan.
Lady Bone Demon: You have studied me.
Sun Wukong: No.
Lady Bone Demon: Are you lying?
Qitian Dasheng: Yes.
Finally, white replies by bringing her queenside bishop's pawn forward two spaces.
The barrier trembles; Sun Wukong feels the cold touch of her hand in his, the chains that begin to wrap around their hands are visually appealing, ties of blue and gold that contradict each other in hue and shade. They are not meant to be together; they are meant to despise each other. And so, he does.
She does not scream, at first. He does not think she registers pain immediately, not in the same way one’s nerves are connected to the brain and spine, how with one snap they send waves of shock to alert the fragile organ inside the cranium of this wave of pain and panic that’s soon to come; she does not react to her broken hand, but, she does widen her eyes when he chokes her. The spirit does not breathe—she has no need for it. Her mistake was trusting him to not cause a scene in their shared mindscape, where they could both come out of this with fresh scars or, perhaps if they were lucky, with a lost limb on their upper half of the body. This is his domain as much as it is hers; he lets her breathe.
Qitian Dasheng: Pray.
Qitian Dasheng: I can’t hear you.
Qitian Dasheng: Oi, White Bone Spirit?
Qitian Dasheng: Did you notice?
The clock is broken.
Qitian Dasheng: My bad.
And they wake up.
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canirove · 2 years
Text
The Lord in Blue | Chapter 14
Author’s note: And we made it to the end of this story! Thank you very much to everyone who has reblogged it, liked it, commented, and of course, read it. The whole thing or just a chapter. This is the first thing I’ve ever written and shared anywhere, and the support means a lot  💜
There is a spin-off of this story, this time with Declan, hopefully coming out in April. It just needs some work here and there. I‘ll be posting it here and on wattpad at the same time, so if anyone wants to follow me there to know when it’s live, here is my profile. In the meantime I’m posting this story there too.
Again, thank you very much for reading, and I hope you enjoy this last chapter! 😊
Previous chapter
Masterlist
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"Remember to give our cousin the sweets I bought for her" my little sister says.
"I will, don't worry."
We are outside the house, saying our goodbyes before Mason and I go back to the palace. My mother is talking with him, laughing at something he's said. And I still am in awe of how he managed to charm her. Her, the whole family, and as I expected, everyone else in town that we met yesterday when we went to church. Even the priest, who hates me because I've barely put a foot on it all these years, gave us his blessing.
"Daughter" my mother says. I walk towards her, Mason leaving her side and going to say goodbye to my sisters.
"Mother."
"He's one of the good ones, Lord Mount. He has a title and money, important things when thinking about a marriage. He also is a good man, and for some reason, he is completely infatuated with you" she says, making me roll my eyes at her last sentence. "But he also is going to be luckiest man in the kingdom, because he's going to have you by his side." I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Did my mother just flatter me? "I know I've not been kind to you all these years. But I love you and just want what is the best for you. I want you to be happy and loved, and I know you'll get that with him."
"Thank you, mother" I mumble. That's all I manage to say before going back to where everyone is standing.
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"You haven't said much since we left" Mason says. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, don't worry. I was just thinking about everything that happened the last few days. It doesn't feel real" I say while he moves to sit next to me on the carriage.
"It all was very real. As real as this" he says as he kisses me on the lips. "And as this" he says before kissing my neck.
"Mason... Not here" I say, my face already burning.
"You are incorrigible, my Lord" I say, trying to scold him.
"I've got used to kissing you every day. To touch you. And for the past few days I haven't been able to do it. I can't help myself, I miss you" he says as one of his hands lifts my dress and starts going up my leg.
"Indeed I am, my lady" he says to my neck. I can feel him smile, and I let out a little laugh. His hand has made it all the way to my inner thigh, his fingers slowly going up and down. "Aren't you going to say that the rider may hear us if I don't stop?" he asks, teasing me.
"Not this time."
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The day of the Queen's wedding is finally here. It's a cold winter morning, but the sun is shinning and there are no clouds in the sky.
The other maids of honor and I have spent the night in her room to get ready all together, and right now, it is a complete chaos. Servants are doing everyone's hair, dresses are being taken care off, shoes are being polished. All while my cousin just sings from the top of her lungs. I think I've never seen her this happy.
Two hours later, we are finally ready.
We are walking towards the big greenhouse behind the palace where the ceremony will be taking place. All kind of purple flowers, the Queen's favorite color, have been set on the inside and on the path that leads to it. All of our gowns are white, hers a different shade, with low puffy sleeves that show our shoulders. She's wearing her hair up in a crown braid, a small tiara on top of it. No earrings, no necklace. Just a bracelet with diamonds that belonged to her mother. The rest of us also wear our hair up in braids, each one a different style.
"You look gorgeous" he says to my ear.
When we walk into the greenhouse, it feels like we are stepping into a magical place. The flowers, the sun coming through the glass giving it a special light, the music... At the end of the path, Lord White is waiting.
He's wearing a red suit, his family's color. His eyes are fixed on my cousin, his smile getting bigger and bigger as she approaches. Once they've met and we've helped her with her dress, I go stand with the other guests. My mother to one side, Mason on the other. I've felt his eyes on me since the moment we walked in.
"So do you, my lord." Again, he's wearing all blue.
"You could have warned me about the style of the dress you were going to wear" he keeps saying to my ear. "You know how much I love your neck and shoulders. Not being able to touch them and kiss them is excruciating."
"I know, my lord. That's why I chose it" I say, giving him a cheeky smile that catches him off guard. I can also be a teaser.
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The ceremony went by in the blink of an eye. After it was over, we moved inside the palace, where servants were waiting with drinks to celebrate in honor of the newlyweds. Then it was time for the banquet.
Huge tables had been set, filled with the most exquisite meals you could imagine. The cake that came after, was the biggest one I've ever seen.
The sun was setting by the time we had finished eating. Now it was time to celebrate, to dance, to have fun, and we were moving back to the greenhouse. Most flowers were gone, replaced by candles and chandeliers. Some musicians were in a corner ready to play. More tables with drinks and food had been set, and also big cushions where people could sit or lay down.
Once everyone was inside, music started playing, and the Queen and her husband had their first dance. They couldn't keep their eyes from each other, smiling, sharing a small kiss grom time to time. After a bit of time alone, more guests joined them.
"Shall we join them too, my lady?" Mason asks, offering me his hand.
"It'll be my pleasure, my lord."
We dance for hours, switching partners a couple of times. I danced with Lord White and Lord Rice, who to my surprise, happens to be a great dancer.
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"Have I told you yet how beautiful you look today?" he says.
It was well into the night. Most people were too drunk, lying on the cushions, or had already retired to bed, my family among them. Knowing that, I let myself go a bit.
Mason and I are dancing, slowly swinging from side to side. I have my arms around his neck, and he's holding me by my waist, keeping me close to him.
"A few times, my lord" I giggle.
"It doesn't feel like I've said it enough"
"You yourself also look very handsome today" I say. He just smiles, resting his forehead on mine. We stay like that for a while, and then he speaks again.
"There is something I haven't said yet, tho" he says. He has pulled me even closer, lifting his head and making m look him in the eyes. "I love you."
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"I love you too" I say back, barely processing what is happening and what I just said, what it means. He just smiles in that way I love so much. The one I haven't been able to take out of my head since the day we met, since our paths crossed thanks to a fallen tree. The one that makes a dimple show up on his left cheek. That damned dimple.
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just-come-baek · 3 years
Text
out to lunch
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Pairing: cooking show chef!xiaojun x personal assistant!reader
Themes: smut
Word count: 2.5k
Summary: You come over to the kitchen set of Xiaojun’s cooking show to tell him you managed to get him what he had always dreamed of. However, once you reveal the big news, you discover his priorities have changed, and right now, the only thing he wants to do is you.
Warnings: dirty talk | fingering | kitchen set sex | unprotected sex | creampie | Xiaojun’s inner diva is showing | 
A/N support WayV lol | writing this for neosmutcollective mini wayv event
Xiaojun was utterly immersed in his world. Though it was already late at night, he was still behind the kitchen counter, chopping ingredients with his favorite knife. Right now, Xiaojun was in his element, oozing precision and determination to perfect his new recipe, and it somewhat felt like a sin to interrupt him.
You had big news to deliver, though. Having heard you out, Xiaojun would surely forgive you for your disruption. He had to. After all, you just managed to get him that cooking book contract he had always dreamed of.
Ever since you two had started working together, it was your goal to make Xiaojun a published author. Though he already owned three restaurants and starred in his own cooking show, Xiaojun was insatiable. The more fame and recognition he got, it was never enough.
You cleared your throat to obtain his attention, but it didn’t quite pull him out of his trance, so you decided to give him an extra minute.
Xiaojun looked incredibly attractive in his own habitat. In his white uniform and ridiculously big chef hat, Xiaojun looked like a whole damn Michelin three-star dish. No wonder he kept beating his viewing records with each new episode. People all across the country swooned over his culinary talent, incredible charisma, and breathtaking looks.
Having approached the kitchen counter, you knocked on the marble surface in hopes of obtaining his attention.
“Earth to Xiaojun,” you softly spoke, looking at his face. Apparently, the timing couldn’t have been worse as Xiaojun dropped his knife on the cutting board and swung it onto the floor, making a huge mess.
“What do you want!? Don’t you see I’m busy!?” Xiaojun barked before he turned around to get a clean set of kitchen utensils. “Get lost. I don’t want to talk to you,” he added, waving his hand at you, trying to chase you out of the kitchen space.
“Ugh, for the love of God, Xiaojun! How many times have we had this conversation? That diva tone doesn’t work on me,” you answered firmly, staring into his eyes, challenging him. His gaze was intense, his jaw was tensed, but you just smiled at him, ignoring his shenanigans altogether. It wasn’t the first time he lashed out at you, and you knew how to handle him.
“Okay, fine. What is it?” Xiaojun huffed, giving in. With his arms folded across his chest, he tapped his foot against the floor, impatiently waiting for the news.
“I got you that book offer. You’re gonna be a published author,” you exclaimed, ready to jump up and down in joy. However, Xiaojun didn’t seem to be particularly excited. “What’s the matter? Isn’t it what you’ve always wanted? I don’t get it,” you spoke, creasing your eyebrow in confusion, trying to read his bizarre expression.
Xiaojun seemed indifferent at best.
“Cancel it. Undo it. I won’t write it,” Xiaojun replied before he proceeded back to his previous task. It wasn’t wise to disturb him now, so you waited until all vegetables were neatly cubed and thrown into a bowl.
“Can you tell me what’s going on? I don’t understand. I thought you’ve always wanted it,” you inquired, trying a much calmer approach. Xiaojun didn’t use his knife now, but he was still holding it, and it wouldn’t be the first time someone earned a cut during a heated argument in the kitchen.
“I have,” Xiaojun replied with a deep sigh as he poured the chicken broth over the vegetables. “But it gets tiring, you know…” he added, as he took off his chef hat and threw it on the countertop, running his hand through his hair. “Everything is happening too fast. I thought I wanted it, but now, when I actually live that life, I realized I am not cut out for this.”
It was heart-breaking to listen to it. You two had been working very hard to get Xiaojun where he is right now, only to come to a conclusion it’s all wrong. Fame was a heavy cross to bear, and Xiaojun was slowly stumbling under its weight.
“Don’t tell me you want to quit,” you whispered, anxious to know the answer. Xiaojun’s eyes were trained on you, and you could see how tired he was. “How about you take it easy from now on instead of quitting it all together? It would be a shame to quit right at the finishing line,” you reasoned, hoping Xiaojun would consider it.
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s talk about it, okay?” you interjected before Xiaojun would impulsively ruin his career. “We’ve got only three more episodes to shoot. I could put you on hiatus until you decide you want to continue with another season. In the meantime, you could work on the cooking book at your own pace. Probably, I will make you record some cooking content on social media to keep you circulating on the web, so people won’t forget you. Except for that, your schedule would be clear to focus on whatever you need to focus on.”
Silence.
Xiaojun was staring at his chef hat, pondering your damn good points. When you put it like that, it was hard to say no. Besides, he had a feeling you would talk back instantly if he found faults in your argumentation.
Seconds passed without Xiaojun’s response. You were his voice of reason; he had to listen to you. Besides, not only was his career on the line. If he actually quitted, your superior would murder you. Xiaojun was the cash cow of the company; they couldn’t afford to lose him. He was at their rising star.
“Why do you always know what to say?” Xiaojun rhetorically asked, and you beamed, ready to grace him with an answer.
“I’m really good at my job,” you pointed out proudly. Thanks to your impeccable management and problem-solving capabilities, you managed to help Xiaojun rise to the top. “And also, I care about you. Sometimes, you’re a pain in the ass, but after all, you’re a good person. You are my friend, and I want you to be happy.”
“Fine, let’s do it your way. But we’re not shooting another season until I say so,” Xiaojun caved, smiling brightly at you. “You know what I really want to do, though?” He challenged as he rested his elbow on the counter, straightening his back, trying to appear taller and overall more confident.
His voice was quiet, and it suspiciously sounded as if he told “you.”
Shaking your head, you asked, “what?”
Xiaojun felt a sudden wave of confidence rush through him before he repeated himself clearly. No, there was no shred of doubt. You heard him loud and clear. Confidently, Xiaojun admitted that he really want to do was you.
“You seriously think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me?” Xiaojun spoke in a somewhat accusing tone, eyeing you from head to toe before he took a cautious step toward you. Intimidated, you took a step backward, and that timid action made Xiaojun smirk.
He knew exactly what type of effect he had on you. All memories of lingering glances you had stolen of him when you had believed he hadn’t been looking came back rushing to you. You weren’t as sly and discreet as you thought you were.
“It really flatters me,” Xiaojun teased with a smug smile. “Don’t deny it, and come here,” he urged, spreading his arms, waiting for you to run into him.
At first, you were sure Xiaojun was just messing with your head. You believed he was teasing you. You imagined him flick your forehead if you walked into his personal space. It was obvious he was mocking you. There was no way in hell that he wanted you the way you wanted him. You must’ve been seeing things.
“Jesus, woman! Hurry the fuck up,” Xiaojun warned you, losing his patience. “If you’re not coming here, I am coming there,” he added, giving you one last chance for a change of heart. “Screw it,” he cursed, surging forward, trapping you in his tight embrace.
His actions spoke louder than words. All your previous thoughts were gone; Xiaojun wouldn’t have bothered this much to pull a prank on you. He was genuine. Xiaojun held you still in his arms, waiting for you to make a move. He would never try anything without your permission, regardless of how delicious your lips looked.
“Kiss me,” he ordered, and you rushed, smashing your lips against his in a passionate kiss. It was everything you imagined it to be, but tenfold better. You had fantasized about his moment plenty of times, and weirdly enough, Xiaojun’s mouth somehow felt both soft and rough at the same time. “Now, we’re talking.”
You two completely lost it. Hands were running on your bodies as you engaged in a heated moment, relieving your much maddening frustration. It felt amazing, and you wished you could carry on until you both lose all your energy.
“Let’s go to my place,” you mumbled once you pulled away. Xiaojun still held you pressed against him as he waited for you to elaborate, being painfully clueless to your ulterior motive. “It’s much closer from here than yours,” you added, and Xiaojun only smiled dumbly, waiting for you to word your request in an even more ridiculous way.
“Why bother going anywhere when I can have you here?” Xiaojun playfully announced, giggling as his gaze shifted from your gorgeous eyes to the countertop. Almost instantly you realized what his crazy proposition was. Did you really want your first time with him to be on the kitchen island inside the cooking show set? It would be a blatant lie if you said you had never considered this.
“Fuck me then,” you urged, giving Xiaojun permission to ruin you right there.
Xiaojun didn’t waste any time. In an instant, he wrapped his arms around your thighs as he picked you up and gently sat down on the countertop. Except for your pencil skirt, your legs were bare, so you let out a slight hiss once you felt the cold marble against your skin.
Biting your lips, you spread your legs, letting Xiaojun stand right between them.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about fucking you here,” Xiaojun confessed before he leaned forward, stealing another desperate kiss. “You remember that time when we fought over the Oreo cake? I was so hard back then. I wanted to bend you over the counter so bad. I almost didn’t hold myself back.”
“You should’ve gone for it,” you whispered as you remembered that quarrel. That night Xiaojun had been the star of your fantasies when you used your vibrating friend to get yourself off. “I was so horny then. Almost as horny as right now,” you added, pulling him by his funny black tie, melting into yet another kiss.
Xiaojun was getting impatient. It was nice, but it wasn’t enough for him. Having untangled the knot of his apron, he yanked it off his hips, throwing it over his shoulder.
“I want to feel you so bad,” he murmured as he slid his fingers under your skirt, pulling your panties down your legs. “Let me prep you up,” Xiaojun uttered when his digits gently fondled your folds, gliding his knuckle inside of you. The moment you felt him, you let out a quiet moan, enjoying his little ministrations.
Xiaojun knew how to please a woman. He curled his fingers inside of you, stretching you out for his length. With your eyes shut closed, you focused on your pleasure, letting Xiaojun spoil you rotten. Though it was just mere petting, it felt nice as hell. He was getting you ready for his cock, and you basked in simple delight.
“Enough of that; I want you to fuck me now,” you kindly spoke, wrapping your palm around his wrist. “Please,” you added when you noticed how hesitant Xiaojun was of letting go. He planned on making you come first before properly fucking you with his cock, but since you asked him nicely, he decided to give you exactly what you wanted. Though he’d love to tease you some more, your pleading tone seemed to do the thing.
Swiftly, he yanked down his pants, revealing his member. It was standing proud, and you looked down at it, admiring it. Without any doubt, Xiaojun was to make your day.
As much as you wanted to return the favor, Xiaojun didn’t let you. Impatiently, he gave himself a few strokes before he aligned his cock with your entrance, rubbing its tip against your folds. Slowly, he pushed his hard length inside of you, making you groan.
Your grip on the edge of the countertop tightened as Xiaojun filled you up with his erection. At first, Xiaojun maintained a slow and steady rhythm. However, as you kept moaning his name and encouraging him to go faster, his thrusts became more rapid. Quickly, Xiaojun snapped his hips, finding your sweet spot in record time.
“Holy shit,” you exclaimed, feeling the knot inside of you tighten. You were moments away from your peak. Xiaojun’s cock stroked all the right places, pushing you off the edge. “Fuck, I am coming,” you shouted, kicking your head backward, welcoming the bliss that ripped through you.
When you were slowly descending back on Earth, Xiaojun kept chasing his release.
You could feel him throb inside of you. Then, an idea crossed your mind. Until now, it was Xiaojun who did all the work, so the least you could do was to encourage him to fill you up, to talk him through his orgasm.
“You fill me up so well. I came on your cock, and you’re still rock-hard. Do you want me to come again?” You complimented him, spilling filth. Though you weren’t sure if Xiaojun would be into dirty talk, you were certain he was eating it all up. Xiaojun was moaning your name as he snapped his hips, falling out of his even rhythm.
Xiaojun was near. His grip on your thighs tightened as he pounded inside of you, being only a few strokes away from his sweet bliss.
“Come inside of me,” you urged him. It was all it took to make him reach his peak. With a choked grunt, Xiaojun came, buckling his hips as he painted your walls with his release.
You remained silent as Xiaojun breathed heavily, trying to come back to his senses.
“If we’re ever doing it, here, again, I want you to spank me with this,” you commented as you reached for the spatula that sat on the other side of the counter. Xiaojun smirked upon seeing the kitchen utensil, tempted to try it out soon.
However, on second thought, tonight was just good as any other day.
“How about we take it with us over to your place,” Xiaojun proposed, and you cocked your eyebrow, excited to hear his suggestion. “Let’s get you cleaned up first,” he added as he bent down to pick up his apron. His release was dripping down your thighs, so he wiped it off with the fabric, looking rather pleased by the fact that you let him come inside of you.
“That sounds like a plan.”
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folkloreguk · 3 years
Text
an angel for a demon (2)
A/N: Part one came out like two years ago lmao but I’ve always wanted to write another part, and here it finally is! I’m always open to feedback of any kind! x
genre: smut, optional bias (male), demon!bias, angel!reader, reader’s first time, unprotected sex bc we pretend angels and demons can’t have babies or STDs apparently
words: ~ 3.4 k
PART 1
PART 3
Three days had passed since you had begun to live with him. It had taken you some time to get used to your new surroundings and to realize this is where you would spend most of your time from now on. His place was not what angels called beautiful. Had it been yours, it would have been filled with antique statues of heavenly beings, light, soft colors and comfortable pillows and blankets. But his taste differed gravely from yours. He had a love for black marble and accents of red. Not the beautiful, bright red of strawberries in summer. It was dark crimson, like deoxygenated blood fresh out of a wound. You felt like you had entered a side wing of hell itself, sometimes. But you knew hell had to be much, much worse.
On the second day, you had set yourself the challenge of making the place feel at least slightly homier. No one who entered this apartment would, even in their wildest dreams, assume that an angel lived there. Although you weren’t sure you could call yourself that, anymore. Your trip to the grocery store was the most humane thing you had ever done on earth, but surely wouldn’t stay the last. You wondered, while you had strolled around the isles, whether one day you could find yourself working a job on earth, now that you couldn’t call heaven home no more. You still had the desire to help the humans, and maybe you could earn a living whilst doing so.
On that note, you had pondered countless times how a demon could afford the luxury he lived in. But he wasn’t one to tell you about his day when he returned home after being out all night. He called it ‘demon business’ and ‘nothing that should concern a little angel’. One day, you would winkle it out of him. Although maybe you really would be better off not knowing. But you knew, as always that sooner or later your curiosity would get the best of you.
When he came home on the second day and laid eyes on the cotton candy-colored flowers on the table, he couldn’t help but smirk at how proud you were. The contrast was stark against the dark ebony table and seemed like an accurate representation of how you had felt in his home.
“If you wanted me to bring you flowers you could have just said so,” he said.
“I like going out to the store myself sometimes,” you replied. He was always so stern when he returned home. Sometimes he had tired eyes, and often he seemed physically exhausted. But the moment he laid eyes on you, his strained expression softened. Then, he’d stroke away a strand of your hair and gaze at you with utmost admiration. He had offered to buy you whatever your heart desired, but your angel life had never required you to have possessions. There was no greed or yearning for luxury, and you liked it that way.
One thing, however, you never seemed to get enough of on earth. No matter how many books you opened and got lost in, you always wanted more. And he knew of your wish to learn more about the world. He had gifted you books of philosophy, biology and physics, and yet he had no idea it wasn’t science that interested you the most.
Every night you lay awake for too long, reflecting on what he had said to you that one night. That there was more for you to learn. Before him, you never knew what real pleasure felt like – you weren’t supposed to, even now – but now that you understood, you only wanted to feel it again and again. A few times you had contemplated asking him to show you more. To let you feel the pure bliss of what heaven called sinning again. But he seemed tired when he returned home, and when he didn’t you were too scared to approach him with such a topic. Plus, you didn’t even know how to. Too new was the idea of you – an angel – even thinking of doing such unholy things.
So you spent your days pacing around the apartment, sitting by the window, looking out at the city and waiting for him to come home. One night, you couldn’t fall asleep, as on many other occasions. He wasn’t there next to you, and the bed felt too big for just one lonely angel in it. There was an almost burning sensation between your legs. Once again, you squeezed your eyes shut and thought of other things – floating on clouds, watching older angels’ wings flatter, inspecting your little village you used to guard from above. But nothing helped. It all led back to black eyes, razor teeth, a sharp tongue and hands so hellish in their actions, you should have wished he had never touched you. And yet you never did.
Your eyes shot open when you heard the shower turn on. The alarm clock on the table read 1:57 am. Not so patiently, you waited a few minutes until the sound of the water died down. Then, you tip-toed out of the room and down the hall.
The sight of him made your cheeks heat up. He was sat, in the dark, on the sofa. A towel was around his waist, a few drops of water glistening on his bare chest as he lifted the glass of alcohol to his lips.
“What are you doing standing and staring, little angel? Why don’t you come join me?” he suddenly asked. Your heart skipped a beat at his voice. Heaven help me now, you thought.
“I thought you didn’t…,” you started, slowly moving across the room as if you were floating.
“I didn’t notice you?” he finished your sentence. You hummed a quiet yes. “Your glow is hard to miss.”
You weren’t sure what he meant by that. Was he saying, that just as he had a dark aura around him, you radiated a bright one? It made sense to you. You stopped in your tracks when you stood in front of him.
“You’re wearing your angel dress again,” he pointed out. He had brought you clothes, but nothing felt as right on your body as your white dress you had always worn.
“I always sleep in it,” you said. “You never see it, since you’re never here.”
“Does my little angel miss me?” he said. His dark eyes watched you intently, but they softened when he realized you had meant your words. “Come here, let me make it up to you.”
Not knowing what he meant by those words, you plopped down next to him.
“I meant come here,” he repeated, tapping his lap. Oh. Obediently, you swung one of your legs over his waist. Suddenly, you were hyperaware of the fact that his towel was the only thing between your center and his bare skin. Carefully, you watched his eyes for instructions or assurance. You kept your hands tightly by your sides, not daring to touch his skin that shined so beautifully in the moonlight. It was almost ironic, how ethereal his perfectly sculpted muscles appeared to you.
“Tell me, angel, do you sometimes think about what we did three days ago?” he asked, softly brushing his fingers along your arm. You should have felt ashamed to admit it. But with the way he watched you, he seemed to already guess your answer.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” you said, the words spilling out after keeping them in for too long. “I want to know more.”
He smirked, hooded black eyes watching your every breath while his head remained on the backrest of the sofa.
“Is that so?” he almost teased. “Why don’t you kiss me, then? Go ahead.”
Hesitantly, you bent forward until your forehead was almost touching his. Now, you didn’t look into his intimidating gaze anymore, but instead the closeness only made you more nervous. But more prominent than your nerves was your curiosity and your desire you hadn’t been able to shut out for the past days. You smelled a faint note of alcohol before you softly pressed your lips against his. Your kiss was the tender flutter of butterfly wings, like a singular snowflake landing on warm skin, as careful as a little bird in a lion’s cage.
But he kissed back, so overwhelmingly and suddenly, it robbed your breath in an instant. His body straightened up now, arms pulling you closer to his chest. Humming contently, he took your lifeless hands from your sides and placed them on his shoulders. His warm skin was inviting, making it easy for you to melt into his touch. Still, you weren’t used to this feeling. Maybe you would never get used to it. Perhaps it was supposed to be this exciting every single time. He breathed against your mouth heavily and his tongue swiped across your lips. The sensation was enticing and combined with his coaxing hands digging into your waist, your guilt washed away far too quickly. But there had been no redemption after the previous time and there wouldn’t be one now. Or ever. For a moment, you pulled away, needing air.
“Too much? Too fast?” he asked, cradling your face in his hands. A rush of comfort overcame you.
“No, I’m fine. It just feels – really good,” you said.
“Of course it does,” he bragged, smirking infamously.
“Can you…I want you to touch me…like you did last time,” you said. Even you were surprised at yourself. You could have just waited for him and he surely would have made you feel amazing. But now that you knew what it could feel like, you weren’t able to swallow your impatience.
“Such a sinful confession from such holy lips,” he said, voice dripping honey while he brushed two of his fingers across those very lips. “I wonder what other things those could do.”
What could he possibly be talking about? How much was there for you to try out? Whatever it was, you wanted to do it all. You had no idea what had come over you. Was there a secret demon that had taken possession of your body without notice? Or maybe you were simply an angel tired of acting like one.
Slowly, his hands dropped from your sides and to your hips. All while he watched your face like it was his favorite meantime to make you squirm under his touch. When he progressed to your thighs, something dropped in your stomach. Again, your body reacted before your mind did and you wanted to press your legs together. It felt familiar, but just as thrilling as the first time. His head tilted slightly as if to ask ‘do you like this?’ as he lifted the hem of your satin dress. And how you liked it.
You were very aware of being bare in front of him. So, in order to avoid feeling his eyes on your body, you bent forward again to kiss him. Bad idea – because the lack of oxygen and the loss of your sight when you closed your eyes only intensified the need. His fingertips were fleeting, rather non-demon-like, but you knew how fast he could flip his actions, had he wanted to.
They ghosted over your slit, collecting your wetness that had been pooling there. At even the slightest contact of his finger on your clit, you let out a quiet noise. He had been biting his lip, but when he heard you, his eyes met yours in an instant and he smirked.
“Let me hear you, little angel,” he said, before placing a kiss on your neck. While he continued to suck purple marks into your skin, his fingers toyed around your center, figuring out what made you react in the best way. And as the angel you were, always eager to please, you made sure you didn’t keep your mouth shut anymore. It felt weird, noticing the sounds he produced from you so involuntarily, but the more you concentrated on the feeling of his hand between your legs, the easier it was to ignore them.
Maybe you were easy to please, or perhaps you were completely see-through for him. It occurred to you he had you figured out head to toe. How did he know exactly which spots to touch to have you clinging to him, as if you would have fallen had he not held you? He drew random figures on your clit, variating the pace just to keep you on edge right where he wanted you. Now and then, his digits slid further down to your core, almost entering you but not quite yet. Your moans came out in a muffled manner as you had your face buried where his neck and shoulder met.
“Look at me, angel,” he said. So you did. No matter what sort of menace could have possibly lay behind his black orbs, the sound of his voice made you want to give him everything. And judging by the way your hips were moving and pushing against his hands by themselves you had already given your body to him. Against all odds, after all the horror stories you had been told to ensure an angel like you would stay far away from hellish beings, you trusted him.
“What a disgrace…They kept you locked up in heaven all this time,” he spoke. “I should have had you all along. You should have had me.”
It had never occurred to you that you could have looked at it this way. You had been happy in heaven. But then again, you hadn’t known what you had been missing. That’s when he slowly inserted one of his fingers into you. The sensation was unusual, but then he curled his digit and you understood.
“Oh god,” you let out when he touched a certain spot inside of you. It felt so right, you wondered why when you were able to feel this way, you should have been abstinent all along.
“Not exactly a good time to bring up god, huh?” he said, teeth nibbling on your neck. You laughed before you could have stopped yourself, and he looked stunned. But then, his lips curled into a malicious and content grin. At the same time, he added another finger into your core. His thumb remained rubbing against your clit, and like last time, you could feel a knot tying in your stomach as time went on. A string of whines and whimpers fell from your lips and your eyes shut tightly. But he decided you’d have to wait longer for your release.
“Do you think you can handle more?” he asked. You sighed when he retracted his hand from your core and watched as he brought his fingers up to his lips to taste you. His gaze didn’t let you decide whether he eyed you like prey or his most treasured thing in the world.
“Yes, I want you to show me,” you said quietly, almost breathless from the sight in front of you.
“Let’s go to the bedroom, then,” he announced. “It’ll be more comfortable for you.”
Your legs felt like jelly as you walked with him. This time, you didn’t hesitate to get onto his black bedsheets. It had become one of your favorite places to be in his apartment by now and the familiarity of it took away some of your nerves.
“I might be a demon, but I promise I can be gentle,” he said. His eyes were probably the most mellow they had ever been since you had met him. Carefully, he helped you slip out of your dress. “So don’t be scared, little angel.”
You had to admit, when he removed his towel from his waist and your eyes fell on his hard member, you weren’t sure if you would be okay. But then he bent down to you and kissed you. His hands softly stroked your cheeks, making it a hard contrast from his devilish image.
“Still sure?” he asked between kisses. It was like he was sucking the fear out of you, although he should have terrified you all along. You nodded and hummed but then changed your voice to a small whimper when he used his hand to run his cock over your slick center. Ever so carefully, he pushed himself inside of you. The stretch was uncomfortable, at first. He must had noticed by reading your face, because his eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“It’ll feel better in a bit, I promise,” he said. You relaxed your muscles the moment he kissed you again, his plan of distracting you surely working. When he had completely filled you up, he stayed in place while your tongues touched and you moaned at the feeling. It felt like he had always meant to be there, on top of you, inside of you.
“If you need me to stop or slow down, you’ll tell me, right?” he asked.
“Yes,” you answered. Once again you debated how you ended up this way. In bed with a demon. And said demon had his hooded black eyes on you, while he thrusted into you ever so slowly, and you couldn’t believe how out-of-this-world-perfect he looked. Although you would surely need more time to get used to the feeling, there was a hint of pleasure you felt every time he dragged his cock against your walls and that once special spot he had touched before.
Upon hearing how he moaned for the first time, you realized it wasn’t just touch that could make your stomach clench in a deep desire to be close to him. It sounded animalistic and you kept your eyes on the way his sharp teeth dug into his bottom lip. You sucked in a breath when he caressed your breasts, fingertips toying with your nipples.
“This is the closest to heaven I’ll ever get, right, little angel?” he spoke, and his gloating smile was so wicked, but handsome, right at that moment. You could only hum a ‘yes’. His lips on your neck were gentle, but your head spun whenever his teeth grazed your angel skin.
“You wouldn’t like it there, either way,” you said. His hand snaked down your body, between your legs where you had been missing them. He let out a growl-like moan when you clenched around his cock from the sudden added pleasure. In no time, he found your clit and used his skilled fingers, and he was right, this should have been the definition of heaven.
“And why is that?” he asked. “Because I couldn’t have you this way, in heaven?”
“Exactly,” you whimpered. “Oh- my-“
The desire to close your legs around him became bigger with each second, the knot in your belly tightening and your mind clouding with nothing but bliss.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re my own personal heaven,” he said. His free hand brushed away your hair delicately. “Are you gonna let go for me, sweet angel?”
You weren’t sure how to let go, exactly. But if by that he meant for you to close your eyes and just let the feeling wash over you, you would - without a choice - do so. Your high made your back arch against his chest and a small cry escaped your lips. He pushed his digits down on your center, slower now, but making sure to draw out every last second of your orgasm.
He had been speeding up his thrusts but then he pulled out, not wanting to cause you discomfort due to overstimulation. With his hand around his cock and quick movements of his wrist, he managed to bring on his own release, letting his cum spill out onto your thighs. You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until you finally opened your eyes again, blinking tiredly and wetting your dry lips. He lowered his head until your foreheads touched. The more you looked into his black eyes, the more at home they made you feel.
“How was that, angel?” he asked, his breathing still unsteady.
“Heavenly,” you replied, pulling him in for a kiss. Even against his lips, you recognized his devilish smirk. And up to that point, you had believed ‘heaven on earth’ was just some silly little human saying. Until he proved you wrong.
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demonslayedher · 3 years
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Hello! I don't know if you've been asked about this before but I love your analysis and reflections and I'd love to know all your thoughts about Zennezu if you don't mind 👀⚡🎀 Thanks so much for this blog!! 😊💝
Thank you again for your patience, as well as your comments on my fics and stuff in the meantime (even on Bird Fic, kya~ thank you <3). All my thoughts, hmmmmn…. Well, clearly I am a fluffy ZenNezu shipper and ship-content creator now, but I sure didn’t start that way. This may be long and rambling and mixed between analysis and personal taste. (Actually, it turned into almost 4000 words.)
So. First a little background. I usually am not much of a shipper. The very few OTPs I have all ended in horrific tragedy, and when romance is a big focus of something I’m otherwise enjoying I usually end up not paying much attention to it in favor of all the other elements I like. This is so much more the case when you can tell they’re going to wind up happily ever after. So what happened to make me so soft and fuzzy about the Kimetsu ships, when I otherwise usually don’t have an appetite for happy fluffy romantic endings?
Three major factors: 1. I’m obsessed. 2. I love these characters and want to see anything and everything about them. 3. Romance wasn’t actually a big element at all in canon, so it left me with an appetite and curiosity for it.
Even though I figured from long ago that ZenNezu would be end game, initially I was somewhere between indifferent and put-off. As much as I love Zenitsu, and I acknowledge that Ufotable the added the “run around and chase Nezuko” bit and removed the part with Zenitsu adoringly talking to Nezuko through her box, and as much as he can be defended for being lonely rather a pervert, the fact still stands that his level of appreciation for girls makes the characters around him uncomfortable. His most cringe-worthy lines at the Butterfly Mansion are all straight from the manga, and even though he was easily one of my favorite characters by the end of my initial watch of the series, I was very put off by his “girls are all queens” surface-level comments and more disturbing pleasure he took in the presence of girls (especially when he could physically interact with them), not to mention his pathetic introduction bothering a complete stranger and displaying that he doesn’t actually take girls’ feelings into consideration.
All this made me inwardly groan, feeling bad for Nezuko, figuring they were going to wind up together because she’s a saint who can find the patience to deal with someone like that, as he clearly wasn’t going to be desirable to any of the rest of the female cast. Enjoying the series well enough despite this, it didn’t bother me terribly much, pairings happen, whatever, I have a history of ignoring them. But one day, well and deep into caring about this whole cast like they’re all my children, I realized something. Isn’t… isn’t it cute how they both get their strength from taking naps? W-wouldn’t it be cute to see them innocently take naps together? Naps to protect each other? Oh. Oh-h-h-h-h. Oh dear. Oh no, it’s cute. Oh no. OH NO.
And that was how my warming up to this pairing started, it very quickly grew into “I love these children and I want them to be happy, being with Nezuko will make Zenitsu very, very happy, I love seeing him happy, happy Zenitsu” but was still a little reserved about Nezuko. Zenitsu was going to make her happy, right? It wasn’t just going to be a case of Nezuko having gotten fond of him over the course of everything they’ve been though, he is actually going to be her taste and make her heart go “kyun” right? Oh Nezuko, oh saintly Nezuko…
Let’s take a moment to pause here and think chronologically, though, as well as analyze their personalities and tastes. Neither of them are particularly picky, we can start there. Aside from fussy busy-bodies like Aoi, as long as it’s a girl, any girl is Zenitsu’s type. He’s desperate, and he’s painted the whole of girl-kind in pretty similar, not always realistic rosy colors. Even though he’s been used and abused by so many girls in his past, it’s his desire to believe that each new one he meets will fit that rosy imaginary color he paints over them that he chooses to let himself be duped, because he really is that lonely. I’ll give him that, sure, he’s a healthy young man with an interest in physical touch, but his dream in Mugen Ressha gives a good indication of what he’s really looking for: companionship, someone who likes spending time with him, someone who will find him useful and believe in him and look to him for protection, someone who likes him enough to spare him the physical intimacy of simply holding his hand. This is all an extension of what Zenitsu desires as whole, hoping he can better himself enough to be reliable and valued in general. Picturing it in the form of a significant other is one very vivid way to focus all those feelings, resulting in that rosy ideal which Zenitsu probably knows in his heart of hearts is too good to be true. That’s why he probably doesn’t think he’s ever going to find it, and therefore why he’s all over any slightest chance of attaining it.
My gosh, if being abandoned over and over isn’t enough, the fact that none of the girls he dated in the past were ever willing to even hold his hand hurts so much.
Nezuko, though, grew up in a secure family with a good relationship to observe between her parents. She probably always envisioned growing up to be like her mother, the quintessential “good wife, wise mother” (a phrase coined later on in the Taisho period to idealize the traditional roles of a woman). She cooks and cleans and sews and the first fanbook even tells us she was good at using an abacus, so she can handle family finances like a pro. Her traditional values probably made her tastes pretty standard, hoping for a reliable protector, but also someone who might be as kind as her father and her brother. But as for what makes her heart go doki-doki? The extra comic at the end of volume 3 tells us that she does long since have a type, it’s a person who’s like a Hisha.
Hisha: a chess/Shougi piece that can move an unlimited number of spaces in horizontal and vertical directions, and is crowned a dragon when it enters enemy territory.
So, yes, this is the part where we all smile and point at Gotouge and say, “I see what you did there, Wani-sensei.”
I find this reassuring; it tells me that Nezuko can find her heart squeezed at how cool Zenitsu is instead of just coming around and liking him because she was flattered by his affection and learned to see how nice he is and stuff. There are plenty of nice Demon Slayers who are strong and cool protectors, but that ZING that Zenitsu has (when he’s asleep) is something that can make her heart race. I’m all for this. I hinge so much of my ZenNezu feelings on this Hisha comment.
The second fanbook states that Nezuko initially had trouble sorting out her memories, and because Zenitsu gave her two such different impressions, it felt like memories of two different people, but over time the memories overlapped to form one complete person. We could say that she and Zenitsu had two first meetings.
Initially, when she was in the box, her little demon heart did go doki-doki; it was the first time a boy besides her brother had protected her, so even though Oniichan is Number One in her heart for the general duration of canon, this encounter was sure to leave a flattering impression. However, when they met face to face that night, he was just some confusing dandelion yelling and screaming about weird stuff, and then he was just a confusing (and possible bothersome) dandelion wanting to hang around her and give her flowers and stuff. It’s anyone’s guess just how “there” Nezuko was at this stage, as she does seem to gain back more of her own will and thought processes over the course of the series, rather than being guided by very, very simple rules to govern her behavior.
Zenitsu feel in love at first sight, and the second fanbook tells us he asked Tanjiro about her human personality, seeing as she wasn’t fully there. He was initially doubtful that anyone so perfect as Nezuko could exist and figured Tanjiro must had been biased and therefore exaggerating, but can we blame Zenitsu for being a smidge guarded? He’s been let down a lot, after all.
We know from Taisho Secrets and side novels that Zenitsu spent a lot of time with Nezuko during their long recovery at the Butterfly Mansion. Even how much more thought we see Nezuko display in the Train arc, she probably underwent a lot of mental development in this time, and my guess is that due to how much he interacted with her, this is probably when Zenitsu went from being a strange dandelion to a strange companion. She probably focused more on the goldfish and the pretty flowers (which he did take her to see!) and any flattering mention of her brother, though. Zenitsu, I’m relieved to say, seemed to genuinely care about what would make Nezuko happy instead of selfishly assuming something like “she likes me too, she wants to marry me.” But knowing Zenitsu, he probably assumed that her willingness to spend time with him was an indication of being willing to talk marriage once she was more herself again, though.
Let’s pause here and put on our Oniichan goggles, though. Early on, Tanjiro has to insist to just about everyone that Nezuko is still her own person with her own thoughts and feelings. Being a demon has taken a lot of her freedom to act on her true nature away from her, but he knows she’s still in there and he treats her like an equal human being. He had to watch over and over as people see his sister and only think, “demon.”
And then there’s his friend Zenitsu, who looks at her and thinks, “girl. Girl! Girl. Girl. Sweet girl, adorable girl, best girl in the world.” And maybe that’s a little bothersome, but yes, someone gets it!! Someone understands! Even though Tanjiro’s initial concerns are keeping Nezuko from being bothered by unwelcome advances, as long as Zenitsu is willing to respect that Nezuko is not entirely able to speak for herself now, he seems pretty approving of Zenitsu (provided Nezuko decides she likes him back). I’d like to think there was an unspoken promise between bros on what boundaries to follow. Besides that, Tanjiro believes in Zenitsu a lot more than Zenitsu believes in himself, so Tanjiro probably wasn’t worried about the “strong protector” role a future husband should fulfil. Or at least, Tanjiro doesn’t seem concerned once he gets to know Zenitsu, he’d have rejected Zenitsu flat-out on that first meeting. Zenitsu, you are so lucky Tanjiro is so forgiving.
However, for as much as Zenitsu sees Nezuko as “GIRL!! Girl, girl, girl!”, he’s still got his rosy vision that conveniently clouds out any disturbing realities. She is, after all, a demon.
This is something Zenitsu never actually had the chance to struggle with, and I would have really liked to see him challenged by that reality a bit more. He never witnessed Nezuko’s berserker mode, nor did he ever see her struggle to keep from eating someone, he wasn’t even awake to watch her fight like a violent animal/angry toddler on the train. Had there been a scene of Zenitsu forced to face how terrifying she had potential to be, it would had really sold his commitment to Nezuko specifically, instead of only Nezuko as his most likely girlfriend candidate.
On the train, Nezuko has the good fortune of seeing another side of Zenitsu, getting one hell of a doki-doki moment. As she’s gaining more self-awareness back, it probably made those doki-dokis more complex too. While I understand there wasn’t a good opportunity to fit in the pace of the story, I love that Taisho Secret of her concerned about him before he wakes up. Instead of him just being that boy who shows her pretty things and says nice things about her Oniichan, this is when he starts becoming something a little more unique among all the people whom little demon Nezuko has bet and who have been nice to her.
In the months that follow, we don’t get much deviation from this slow development. Zenitsu’s feelings toward Nezuko don’t really change at all, but there’s another thing about this ship: neither one chose the other over anybody else. They sort of just came together, Zenitsu gets hooked on one girl at a time, but what if someone had come along with an interest in him? At what point would he had given up on Nezuko? Probably pretty quickly, if someone was serious enough about him. It wouldn’t have been a break up either, since he was still in the pursuing stages (might be more of a break-up conversation with Tanjiro, who had been tacitly supportive).
Actually, for most of the remainder of the series, the affection that Nezuko and Zenitsu build for each other is done when they’re apart, dwelling on their thoughts of each other. For Nezuko, we see this come out after the Swordsmith Village arc in her sunlit elation to see him again, and her efforts to greet him. She very clearly recognizes him and is happy to see him, a big difference compared to how she was more elated by the sight of a fishbowl before. In Zenitsu’s case, this deepening of his affections and running away with his thoughts and feelings results him declaring once and for all, this is her. He’s found her. This is the girl who he will be committed to his whole life, in his heart she is already his wife.
When human!Nezuko is gaining her memories back, her first impressions are of the boy showing her pretty things and giving her flowers, someone who probably has a crush on her, rather than thinking back to someone who she may have had a crush on. (Those cool impressions probably hit her later, I’m assuming, given the stress of the moment.) Romance is not immediately on her mind, though she does quickly recall having friendly affection for this boy for has always been so sweet to her. And Nezuko, handling his surprising level of affection gracefully, helps Zenitsu off the battlefield while he’s in terrible pain (though she probably was too, my poor girl, that fight with demon!Tanjiro was so rough). But honestly, not only is she probably too overwhelmed by everything to think much about romance, but she probably doesn’t take Zenitsu very seriously initially. She knows he’s got a tendency to overexaggerate, and it’s nice that he’s so sweet to her, but since he acts all fluffy and silly around her she probably thinks he’s not being that serious either. Furthermore, she’s got a lot of people to suddenly care about, Zenitsu has a lot to contend with for trying to get special attention. Hell, Zenitsu was probably awake and causing a racket while she was frantic with worry that comatose Giyuu might die. While she did remake Jiichan’s haori to fit Zenitsu’s later, see spent her time in the hospital mending Giyuu’s haori (Nezuko, baby, doesn’t your hand hurt though!?). While Zenitsu was swept up in happy “Nezuko is human now, we’re totally gonna get married” feels, he probably didn’t even notice that he was only one slice in a very big pie of memories that Nezuko suddenly found in her lap and had to slowly chew and digest.
So… this brings us to the extra post-canon comic in the second fanbook, which I initially did not like very much back when it came out in February. I’ve come around a lot to it, but what really hit me at first was “oh no, Nezuko really is only going to accept this marriage because she’s a saint, he’s not being desirable at all.”
But, treating it with a little more patience and sympathy for Zenitsu… he’s just gotten what he’s always wanted, of course he’s going to stop striving a bit and get blissfully carried away in it. And Nezuko, the ever sweet, isn’t going to stop him.
Some of the other commentary in the fanbook states that Zenitsu, for a time, found himself terrified of how girls could be sweet to his face while hiding their true thoughts about him. But, finding that Nezuko was not at all two-faced, he nearly “died and went to heaven” as the exaggeration goes. He doesn’t like to work hard in the first place (but does, because it will make people like Jiichan proud), so getting away with being spoiled is too big of a temptation to resist. Nezuko is sensitive to what makes the people around her happy or uncomfortable, so she never makes any request of Zenitsu. She’s so grateful to have their new little family that her happiness is everyone else’s happiness, she doesn’t really desire a heartthrob romance, even if being a wife and mother is an eventual goal. And, without being under any pressure to make someone proud, Zenitsu gets swept away and indulges.
Thank you, Tanjiro, for putting a stop to this.
He’s still rooting for Zenitsu, since this is his friend and he knows it would make his friend happy to wind up with Nezuko, but he’s setting himself up for failure, or setting Nezuko up to be cheated out on a good match at this rate (if she were to accept out of being nice). Very, very thankfully, Zenitsu responds well to pressure. By this point Nezuko has gotten so used to sweet but indulgent Zenitsu that he seems she totally accepted that his Hisha side didn’t exist anymore, if it even existed in the first place.
Good for Zenitsu asking for her response a year later (when they’d be getting to the legal marriage ages for the Taisho period anyway), he knew he still had shaping up to do to earn her affection. And Nezuko probably needed time to build some admiration for him again, since the doki-dokis were so gone. Even if he couldn’t use that super cool Thunder Breath anymore, it would probably catch her attention to see him strive again, to put effort into being manly, specifically for her. It wasn’t just the Thunder Breath that gave her doki-dokis, it was the Hisha knight-like attitude too, whether asleep and acting on his inner potential, or awake and bravely defending her based on his own goodness and faith.
I hope that in their married life, Zenitsu will retain that sort of manliness in being a provider for her, even he does get indulged a lot at home.
Now for how this plays into some of my fanwork and headcanons:
You know how I said all my OTPs were tragedies? Yeah, I love a good dose of angst. I did start writing a single-scene fic one time of injured Zenitsu desperately trying to cover Nezuko from the sun while waiting for Tanjiro to find them, and in Nezuko’s panic about the sun she starts losing her self-control over her appetite, and Zenitsu is forced to confront that the girl he loves could very easily kill him. I never finished it, though, and it was embarrassingly self-indulgent.
For my big favorite AU of a monster fanfic, I did add more ZenNezu on the massive edit, because by this point I just enjoy ZenNezu so much that I wanted more of it. But!! What I really like about working with it in this fic is that there’s a conflict: Demon!Tanjiro. In this canon divergence, Human!Nezuko and Zenitsu get to interact more than they ever did while she was a demon, and they both already have affection for each other, but the lingering fact that Tanjiro is technically their enemy gives me some tension and angst to work with.
Yes, I wrote a One Shot of Zenitsu and Nezuko as fresh new parents, but it was a bit of a dark dive into Zenitsu’s feelings of inadequacy. But domesticity comes with some inevitable fluff anyway, and likewise it felt embarrassing indulgent, and I can’t write fluff without a little bittersweetness. M…maybe the reason I’m not a shipper is because I’m easily flustered???
I’d like to think that Zenitsu got a desk job that he worked hard at because he wants to be a provider, and Nezuko does find his hard work attractive. I headcanon it was at an electric company, because hahahaha, electricity. I’d like to think he had a long career in that company (and although his colleagues know him for having a bit of an extreme personality and being obsessed with his wife, they sometimes catch glimpses of a very, very strong side of Zenitsu—like, scarily strong), and that when he’s old and retired in the Postwar Economic Miracle, he buys a fancy camera to take pictures of Nezuko (instead of “say cheese” it’s “Thunderclap and Flash!”), and he takes Nezuko to Paris because that’s the romantic thing to do. Also, I don’t like moustaches as a rule, but I totally approve of old man Zenitsu having a fluffy moustache.
World War Two, though… I’d like to think that if his job had him in the city, he was extremely reliable when it came to protecting his family in case of bombing. I’d also like to think that this was when the Kamado family moved to the city, because Nezuko was worried about Kanao and her nieces and nephews, so Zenitsu made sure they were all together. Inosuke might had taken the opposite route and taken his family to the mountains to shelter out there in the wild.
AAAAHHHH, listen to me being so self-indulgent with headcanons, I pride myself on sticking close to canon in my fanwork, I will never produce this, AAAAHHHH, I’m embarrassed~~~~I---I’m not a shipper! No! I don’t have a shipper’s bone in my body! Who needs romance, it means nothing to me, I don’t get swept up in happy fantasies about young newlywed Zenitsu and Nezuko, really I don’t, I take what canon gives me and I stick with it, I’m here for bromance and comradery and fights to the death, I—I don’t need disgusting fluffy feelings, ew, ew, no, really-----ahhh, too flustered, too flustered, too flustered, no, no, no, no, no, no, WHEN DID I BECOME A SHIPPER, nnnnnnnnhhhhjjjj
Which is all to say that Zenitsu and Nezuko as a pairing really grew on me, even though it is essentially a fluffy happy pairing that only got surface-level interaction and was never seriously challenged. It’s got some shadows lurking in there, especially diving into Zenitsu’s heart, but in general this was a slow build-up of mutual affection between two characters with pretty simple desires of their own, and most of all, a desire to see each other happy. That makes it a good comfort ship.
And they’re both are sleepyheads, hNNNGGGHHHhhhhHHHHHHHHHHH
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monsterfloofs · 3 years
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The Ghost in the Parlor (Sfw and anonymous protagonist!)
It was one in the morning when you rose from bed, sliding on a pair of slippers and feeling your way through the dark to exit your room. The sound was faint, barely audible, but you knew. . .
He was playing tonight.
As you weave your way towards the stairs, you could hear the chords beneath you, the stirring voice of a piano pulling you through dark corridors. As you stop and peer over the banister. You can see from up above, candles alight with a ghastly blue fire. Their light casting eerie wisps of shadows to dance upon the floor. In the middle of this spectral scene was a luminous form sitting at the old grand piano. His spindly fingers like spiders upon the keys, procuring the tune that wafted up the stairs. The sound is sweet and melancholic, mourning things that have been lost, and the ever present march of time. Always moving, never relenting.
You knew all this because you had asked him, it was his favorite tune to play. He played it often and there were times where you could almost feel his deep rooted bittersweet sadness. Tears would spring to your eyes and you would have to mop your face with your sleeve. Tonight the song felt especially lonely and with careful footing you crept down the stairs, your shadow timidly trailing after.
"Have I disturbed you?" His melodic voice intones as you sit down beside him. "No, I came to hear you play, if you would have me as company mister Sterling." "Sleep is for the living" he sighs wistfully, "You should be asleep, dreaming sweet dreams of tomorrow." 
He talks to you but his hands, ah his quick and nimble hands keep playing. You watch them sweeping across the keys, mesmerized until he stops. You blink and look up at him. His face is turned towards yours, an eyebrow quirked inquisitively. "A little distracted, were we?" You smile sheepishly, "Ah, yes, I'm sorry, but your hands do work magic. What had you been saying?"
He gives an embarrassed huff, "It's late is it not?" They pale eyes staring at you unblinkingly from beneath round vintage glasses. "Well yes," you reluctantly agree, "But I have missed your nightly performances. And I was hoping you could give me another lesson tonight." You say softly as he flexes his long spindly fingers. "Ooh. . . perhaps. You have always been kind to me. Letting me keep you up at odd hours of night with my prattling."
"You know I would stay even if you didn't give me a lesson. Your music is beautiful." He turns his head away from you, but you can see a hazy pink color introduce itself onto his countenance. When he turns back the color has all but bled out, except for some swirling traces. "I have had nothing but time to perfect it. Though as despairing as it may be, to watch seasons pass without being able to participate in the world, I still have my music. I wonder, is it what holds me here? Is my comfort my cage? Alas-- Dear, aren't you going to put your hands to the piano? You did ask for a lesson you know."
You look up at him before doing as he asks. Aligning your fingers to the keys, "I thought you were still deciding. . ."  "Oh," they respond absentmindedly, "Don't mind me, I'm particularly lost in my thoughts tonight, death, life, it's all just one big mess. . ." Sterling rambles on talking about music as you sit together playing chords and sections of songs. As you are still learning the basics he keeps things simple, most of the time you are echoing his voice on the piano or remembering notes and chords. But he has seems to have become happier with having someone he can talk to, rather than to stew lost in his own thoughts.
"You are doing quite well," A pleased smile tugging on his lips, his crinkled eyes twinkling. "Have you been practicing?"  "A little. . . Not as much as I would like though." You slid your hands onto your lap and smile. "Thank you for the lesson, I appreciate you taking the time to sit with me and do that. I hope I'm not inconveniencing you."
"Of course not," he sniffs, "I. . . am very fond of your company." There was something with the way he said it, that stirred your heart. You can feel your own face grow a little warm, "I'm glad. . . haha." He glances at you, his hands poised to begin playing again. You swallow hard and press on, "Though I h-have to admit, I am more than a little fond of you."
--BADOOM His hands slip hitting the keys too hard and causes a loud blunder of noise. Practically falling off his chair, Sterling’s hands shielding his face in embarrassment. "I-I. . .WHAT?" He stammers, your eyes widen that he reacted so dramatically. "I just meant that, I c-care about you a lot--" The candles snuff out around and you are suddenly plunged in darkness. The ghost has left the building. 
Your head flops into the piano, a few keys playing as your face presses into them. You give a groan of defeat Dammit! Way to go, you probably just killed him. . . AGAIN. Despite his usual stuffy demeanor he can get easily flustered. He tries to hide it under a punctual and proper air, but was a much shier person than he let on. You liked that about him though, there were little things that he did that just enchanted you. He was a deep thinker, and he always took the time to explain things and be patient with you. So of course, you had to go and fall in love with a ghost. You had been trying to gather the courage to tell him your feelings for about a week now. Slowly working your way towards the right words you say. But like music, timing was just as important as the notes. To be honest you had gotten so nervous you are sure you had fumbled in both regards. You sigh heavily, best head to bed, perhaps you can try and talk to him tomorrow.
You slink away in defeat, retiring to your chamber until sunlight streams through your window. Leaving a dappled trail of light and warmth inside your room. You grumpily turn over in bed, refusing to move until you have properly sulked for just a little while longer. Trying to wrack your brain how you were going to approach the ghostly pianist now. With Sterling being so shy, you weren’t sure if his reaction was bad or good. Only time will tell, but in the meantime you're up and making breakfast. Then busying yourself with doing chores around the house and trying not to let your mind settle too much into last night. You go about whiling away the hours until sunset. That's when Sterling becomes active inside the house. You don’t exactly know where he goes during the daytime. You have attempted in the past to nonchalantly snoop around in the basement but to no avail. 
Before you know it, the sun is setting in the sky. Golden light filtering across the floor, flooding the rooms with dying light. You peer into the parlor, and step inside. Running your hands over the black and white keys. You can feel a faint prick on the back of your neck, you turn around and You startle, coming face to face with the musically inclined ghoul. You put a hand on your heart. "Oh my goodness!-- Sterling!" you sigh weakly, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. “Hello,” He murmurs faintly, you look up at him, feeling suddenly shy. All this time you had been waiting to talk to him, and now only an awkward silence fills the room. Both of you starting to speak at the same time.
“I’m sorry, what were you going to say?”
“N-no that’s alright, please, continue”
“Aaah-- why don’t you go first, I was the person who upset you last night”
A hand flutters anxiously to the glasses upon his crooked nose. "You didn’t upset me. You, w-well surprised me. I  was flattered, but I don’t think you truely want anything to do with this old goat." "H-huh? What do yo--" He cuts you off with a flourish of his hand. "I'm an old man dear, not just old, decrepit. I died in 1839, my bones are buried outside, wouldn't that bother you?" His face flushes an eerie pink and he splutters in embarrassment. "I mean, it should bother you. . . " A light bulb blinks on in your head and you stare at him with new found insight. "Y-you, like me too, don't you. . ." "I beg your pa--" "It was you, wasn’t it?" With a rush of feeling, you practically jump a foot off the ground from excitement. "I was always wondering about those poems left on the door step-" your mouth goes agape. "And those flowers!" His eyes dart back and forth in a panic, his mouth wobbling. "W-what??? Me? I don't know anything about that!" You can tell he's wanting to bolt and you make a grab at one of his translucent hands. Surprisingly your fingers successfully curl around it and his shoulders jerk up. Trying to calm yourself down before trying to talk to him. You were spooking him, a novel thought, but not what you had been intending to do. So you take a different approach, "Why. . . didn't you ever tell me?" The specter is sweating bullets now, he mops his brow with a wispy handkerchief. "I-I” he groans in defeat, “A ghost cannot do romance! A ghost cannot do much of-- of anything! No matter how I felt, I couldn't keep you here, you deserve to be free, to experience life to the fullest. Not to be shackled to me and this house." You flush, truly surprised by his answer. "But, I don't want anyone else, I like you. . ." Tentatively you take his hands and hold them gently in your own. His expression quivers, looking down before he gently pulls away. His fingers wisping through your skin before reconstructing themselves back together. He puts a hand into his breast pocket before he pulls out an envelope with a flowery wax seal. He looks away from you but hands you the letter, his expression flushing as that same red color is introduced into his normal pale blue complexation. You look up at him searchingly before you gently take the letter. The smooth paper has a fragrance like all the rest of the notes you recieved, like roses and vanilla. You carefully peel back the floral seal, opening the envelope.
You watch Sterling lights the candles at the table in the parlor. It has been a week since the two of you had become a couple, and you cannot remember a happier time, then the hours you have spent together. “Didn't you say, a ghost cannot do romance?” You tease him with a smile, your eyes crinkling as you watch him with a loving gaze. He huffs softly, "That I did, and I wish more than anything I could take you to a fine dinner out of this house. . . " He pinches the wick of one last candle, and when he removes his hand, an enchanting blue fire flickers to life. “I think a candlelit dinner at home is just as lovely.” He looks at you for a moment, before he gives a little smile, “If you say so darling.” “I do.” He bends down to give you a chilly peck on the forehead before he sits down at his piano, flexing his fingers before he begins to play. The blue lights of the candles flickering to the sound of his haunting melody. But the tone has changed, no longer lachrymose. You can hear something happy stirring in the song that projects itself out of the house, and into the starlit sky.
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