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transgenderteensurvivalguide · 3 years

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“Elliot Page doesn’t remember exactly how long he had been asking.

But he does remember the acute feeling of triumph when, around age 9, he was finally allowed to cut his hair short. “I felt like a boy,” Page says. “I wanted to be a boy. I would ask my mom if I could be someday.” Growing up in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Page visualized himself as a boy in imaginary games, freed from the discomfort of how other people saw him: as a girl. After the haircut, strangers finally started perceiving him the way he saw himself, and it felt both right and exciting.

The joy was short-lived. Months later, Page got his first break, landing a part as a daughter in a Canadian mining family in the TV movie Pit Pony. He wore a wig for the film, and when Pit Pony became a TV show, he grew his hair out again. “I became a professional actor at the age of 10,” Page says. And pursuing that passion came with a difficult compromise. “Of course I had to look a certain way.”

We are speaking in late February. It is the first interview Page, 34, has given since disclosing in December that he is transgender, in a heartfelt letter posted to Instagram, and he is crying before I have even uttered a question. “Sorry, I’m going to be emotional, but that’s cool, right?” he says, smiling through his tears.

It’s hard for him to talk about the days that led up to that disclosure. When I ask how he was feeling, he looks away, his neck exposed by a new short haircut. After a pause, he presses his hand to his heart and closes his eyes. “This feeling of true excitement and deep gratitude to have made it to this point in my life,” he says, “mixed with a lot of fear and anxiety.”

It’s not hard to understand why a trans person would be dealing with conflicting feelings in this moment. Increased social acceptance has led to more young people describing themselves as trans—1.8% of Gen Z compared with 0.2% of boomers, according to a recent Gallup poll—yet this has fueled conservatives who are stoking fears about a “transgender craze.” President Joe Biden has restored the right of transgender military members to serve openly, and in Hollywood, trans people have never had more meaningful time onscreen. Meanwhile, J.K. Rowling is leveraging her cultural capital to oppose transgender equality in the name of feminism, and lawmakers are arguing in the halls of Congress over the validity of gender identities. “Sex has become a political football in the culture wars,” says Chase Strangio, deputy director for transgender justice at the ACLU.

(Full article with photos continued under the “read more”)

And so Page—who charmed America as a precocious pregnant teenager in Juno, constructed dreamscapes in Inception and now stars in Netflix’s hit superhero show The Umbrella Academy, the third season of which he’s filming in Toronto—expected that his news would be met with both applause and vitriol. “What I was anticipating was a lot of support and love and a massive amount of hatred and transphobia,” says Page. “That’s essentially what happened.” What he did not anticipate was just how big this story would be. Page’s announcement, which made him one of the most famous out trans people in the world, started trending on Twitter in more than 20 countries. He gained more than 400,000 new followers on Instagram on that day alone. Thousands of articles were published. Likes and shares reached the millions. Right-wing podcasters readied their rhetoric about “women in men’s locker rooms.” Casting directors reached out to Page’s manager saying it would be an honor to cast Page in their next big movie.

So, it was a lot. Over the course of two conversations, Page will say that understanding himself in all the specifics remains a work in progress. Fathoming one’s gender, an identity innate and performed, personal and social, fixed and evolving, is complicated enough without being under a spotlight that never seems to turn off. But having arrived at a critical juncture, Page feels a deep sense of responsibility to share his truth. “Extremely influential people are spreading these myths and damaging rhetoric—every day you’re seeing our existence debated,” Page says. “Transgender people are so very real.”

That role in Pit Pony led to other productions and eventually, when Page was 16, to a film called Mouth to Mouth. Playing a young anarchist, Page had a chance to cut his hair again. This time, he shaved it off completely. The kids at his high school teased him, but in photos he has posted from that time on social media he looks at ease. Page’s head was still shaved when he mailed in an audition tape for the 2005 thriller Hard Candy. The people in charge of casting asked him to audition again in a wig. Soon, the hair was back.

Page’s tour de force performance in Hard Candy led, two years later, to Juno, a low-budget indie film that brought Page Oscar, BAFTA and Golden Globe nominations and sudden megafame. The actor, then 21, struggled with the stresses of that ascension. The endless primping, red carpets and magazine spreads were all agonizing reminders of the disconnect between how the world saw Page and who he knew himself to be. “I just never recognized myself,” Page says. “For a long time I could not even look at a photo of myself.” It was difficult to watch the movies too, especially ones in which he played more feminine roles.

Page loved making movies, but he also felt alienated by Hollywood and its standards. Alia Shawkat, a close friend and co-star in 2009’s Whip It,describes all the attention from Juno as scarring. “He had a really hard time with the press and expectations,” Shawkat says. “‘Put this on! And look this way! And this is sexy!’”

By the time he appeared in blockbusters like X-Men: The Last Stand and Inception, Page was suffering from depression, anxiety and panic attacks. He didn’t know, he says, “how to explain to people that even though [I was] an actor, just putting on a T-shirt cut for a woman would make me so unwell.” Shawkat recalls Page’s struggles with clothes. “I’d be like, ‘Hey, look at all these nice outfits you’re getting,’ and he would say, ‘It’s not me. It feels like a costume,’” she says. Page tried to convince himself that he was fine, that someone who was fortunate enough to have made it shouldn’t have complaints. But he felt exhausted by the work required to “just exist,” and thought more than once about quitting acting.

In 2014, Page came out as gay, despite feeling for years that “being out was impossible” given his career. (Gender identity and sexual orientation are, of course, distinct, but one queer identity can coexist with another.) In an emotional speech at a Human Rights Campaign conference, Page talked about being part of an industry “that places crushing standards” on actors and viewers alike. “There are pervasive stereotypes about masculinity and femininity that define how we’re all supposed to act, dress and speak,” Page went on. “And they serve no one.”

The actor started wearing suits on the red carpet. He found love, marrying choreographer Emma Portner in 2018. He asserted more agency in his career, producing his own films with LGBTQ leads like Freeheld and My Days of Mercy. And he made a masculine wardrobe a condition of taking roles. Yet the daily discord was becoming unbearable. “The difference in how I felt before coming out as gay to after was massive,” says Page. “But did the discomfort in my body ever go away? No, no, no, no.”

In part, it was the isolation forced by the pandemic that brought to a head Page’s wrestling with gender. (Page and Portner separated last summer, and the two divorced in early 2021. “We’ve remained close friends,” Page says.) “I had a lot of time on my own to really focus on things that I think, in so many ways, unconsciously, I was avoiding,” he says. He was inspired by trailblazing trans icons like Janet Mock and Laverne Cox, who found success in Hollywood while living authentically. Trans writers helped him understand his feelings; Page saw himself reflected in P. Carl’s memoir Becoming a Man. Eventually “shame and discomfort” gave way to revelation. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” Page says, “and letting myself fully become who I am.”

This led to a series of decisions. One was asking the world to call him by a different name, Elliot, which he says he’s always liked. Page has a tattoo that says E.P. PHONE HOME, a reference to a movie about a young boy with that name. “I loved E.T. when I was a kid and always wanted to look like the boys in the movies, right?” he says. The other decision was to use different pronouns—for the record, both he/him and they/them are fine. (When I ask if he has a preference on pronouns for the purposes of this story, Page says, “He/him is great.”)

A day before we first speak, Page will talk to his mom about this interview and she will tell him, “I’m just so proud of my son.” He grows emotional relating this and tries to explain that his mom, the daughter of a minister, who was born in the 1950s, was always trying to do what she thought was best for her child, even if that meant encouraging young Page to act like a girl. “She wants me to be who I am and supports me fully,” Page says. “It is a testament to how people really change.”

Another decision was to get top surgery. Page volunteers this information early in our conversation; at the time he posted his disclosure on Instagram, he was recovering in Toronto. Like many trans people, Page emphasizes being trans isn’t all about surgery. For some people, it’s unnecessary. For others, it’s unaffordable. For the wider world, the media’s focus on it has sensationalized transgender bodies, inviting invasive and inappropriate questions. But Page describes surgery as something that, for him, has made it possible to finally recognize himself when he looks in the mirror, providing catharsis he’s been waiting for since the “total hell” of puberty. “It has completely transformed my life,” he says. So much of his energy was spent on being uncomfortable in his body, he says. Now he has that energy back.

For the transgender community at large, visibility does not automatically lead to acceptance. Around the globe, transgender people deal disproportionately with violence and discrimination. Anti-trans hate crimes are on the rise in the U.K. along with increasingly transphobic rhetoric in newspapers and tabloids. In the U.S., in addition to the perennial challenges trans people face with issues like poverty and homelessness, a flurry of bills in state legislatures would make it a crime to provide transition-related medical care to trans youth. And crass old jokes are still in circulation. When Biden lifted the ban on open service for transgender troops, Saturday Night Live’s Michael Che did a bit on Weekend Update about the policy being called “don’t ask, don’t tuck.”

Page says coming out as trans was “selfish” on one level: “It’s for me. I want to live and be who I am.” But he also felt a moral imperative to do so, given the times. Human identity is complicated and mysterious, but politics insists on fitting everything into boxes. In today’s culture wars, simplistic beliefs about gender—e.g., chromosomes = destiny—are so widespread and so deep-seated that many people who hold those beliefs don’t feel compelled to consider whether they might be incomplete or prejudiced. On Feb. 24, after a passionate debate on legislation that would ban discrimination against LGBTQ people, Representative Marie Newman, an Illinois Democrat, proudly displayed the pride flag in support of her daughter, who is trans. Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene, a Georgia Republican, responded by hanging a poster outside her office that read: There are TWO genders: MALE & FEMALE.

The next day Dr. Rachel Levine, who stands to become the first openly transgender federal official confirmed by the Senate, endured a tirade from Senator Rand Paul about “genital mutilation” during her confirmation hearing. My second conversation with Page happens shortly after this. He brings it up almost immediately, and seems both heartbroken and determined. He wants to emphasize that top surgery, for him, was “not only life-changing but lifesaving.” He implores people to educate themselves about trans lives, to learn how crucial medical care can be, to understand that lack of access to it is one of the many reasons that an estimated 41% of transgender people have attempted suicide, according to one survey.

Page has been in the political trenches for a while, having leaned into progressive activism after coming out as queer in 2014. For two seasons, he and best friend Ian Daniel filmed Gaycation, a Viceland series that explored LGBTQ culture around the world and, at one point, showed Page grilling Senator Ted Cruz at the Iowa State Fair about discrimination against queer people. In 2019, Page made a documentary called There’s Something in the Water, which explores environmental hardships experienced by communities of color in Nova Scotia, with $350,000 of his own money. That activism extends to his own industry: in 2017, he published a Facebook post that, among other things, accused director Brett Ratner of forcibly outing him as gay on the set of an X-Men movie. (A representative for Ratner did not respond to a request for comment.)

As a trans person who is white, wealthy and famous, Page has a unique kind of privilege, and with it an opportunity to advocate for those with less. According to the U.S. Trans Survey, a large-scale report from 2015, transgender people of color are more likely to experience unemployment, harassment by police and refusals of medical care. Nearly half of all Black respondents reported being denied equal treatment, verbally harassed and/or physically attacked in the past year. Trans people as a group fare much worse on such stats than the general population. “My privilege has allowed me to have resources to get through and to be where I am today,” Page says, “and of course I want to use that privilege and platform to help in the ways I can.”

Since his disclosure, Page has been mostly quiet on social media. One exception has been to tweet on behalf of the ACLU, which is in the midst of fighting anti-trans bills and laws around the country, including those that ban transgender girls and women from participating in sports. Mississippi Governor Tate Reeves says he will sign such a bill in the name of “protect[ing] young girls.” Page played competitive soccer and vividly recalls the agony of being told he would have to play on the girls’ team once he aged out of mixed-gender squads. After an appeal, Page was allowed to play with the boys for an additional year. Today, several bills list genitalia as a requirement for deciding who plays on which team. “I would have been in that position as a kid,” Page says. “It’s horrific.”

All this advocacy is unlikely to make life easier. “You can’t enter into certain spaces as a public trans person,” says the ACLU’s Strangio, “without being prepared to spend some percentage of your life being threatened and harassed.” Yet, while he seems overwhelmed at times, Page is also eager. Many of the political attacks on trans people—whether it is a mandate that bathroom use be determined by birth sex, a blanket ban on medical interventions for trans kids or the suggestion that trans men are simply wayward women beguiled by male privilege—carry the same subtext: that trans people are mistaken about who they are. “We know who we are,” Page says. “People cling to these firm ideas [about gender] because it makes people feel safe. But if we could just celebrate all the wonderful complexities of people, the world would be such a better place.”

Even if Page weren’t vocal, his public presence would communicate something powerful. That is in part because of what Paisley Currah, a professor of political science at Brooklyn College, calls “visibility gaps.” Historically, trans women have been more visible, in culture and in Hollywood, than trans men. There are many explanations: Our culture is obsessed with femininity. Men’s bodies are less policed and scrutinized. Patriarchal people tend to get more emotional about who is considered to be in the same category as their daughters. “And a lot of trans men don’t stand out as trans,” says Currah, who is a trans man himself. “I think we’ve taken up less of the public’s attention because masculinity is sort of the norm.”

During our interviews, Page will repeatedly refer to himself as a “transgender guy.” He also calls himself nonbinary and queer, but for him, transmasculinity is at the center of the conversation right now. “It’s a complicated journey,” he says, “and an ongoing process.”

While the visibility gap means that trans men have been spared some of the hate endured by trans women, it has also meant that people like Page have had fewer models. “There were no examples,” Page says of growing up in Halifax in the 1990s. There are many queer people who have felt “that how they feel deep inside isn’t a real thing because they never saw it reflected back to them,” says Tiq Milan, an activist, author and transgender man. Page offers a reflection: “They can see that and say, ‘You know what, that’s who I am too,’” Milan says. When there aren’t examples, he says, “people make monsters of us.”

For decades, that was something Hollywood did. As detailed in the 2020 Netflix documentary Disclosure, transgender people have been portrayed onscreen as villainous and deceitful, tragic subplots or the butt of jokes. In a sign of just how far the industry has come—spurred on by productions like Pose and trailblazers like Mock—Netflix offered to change the credits on The Umbrella Academy the same day that its star posted his statement on social media. Now when an episode ends, the first words viewers see are “Elliot Page.”

Today, there are many out trans and nonbinary actors, directors and producers. Storylines involving trans people are more common, more respectful. Sometimes that aspect of identity is even incidental, rather than the crux of a morality tale. And yet Hollywood can still seem a frightening place for LGBTQ people to come out. “It’s an industry that says, ‘Don’t do that,’” says director Silas Howard, who got his break on Amazon’s show Transparent, which made efforts to hire transgender crew members. “I wouldn’t have been hired if they didn’t have a trans initiative,” Howard says. “I’m always aware of that.”

So what will it mean for Page’s career? While Page has appeared in many projects, he also faced challenges landing female leads because he didn’t fit Hollywood’s narrow mold. Since Page’s Instagram post, his team is seeing more activity than they have in years. Many of the offers coming in—to direct, to produce, to act—are trans-related, but there are also some “dude roles.”

Downtime in quarantine helped Page accept his gender identity. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” he says.

Page was attracted to the role of Vanya in The Umbrella Academy because—in the first season, released in 2019—Vanya is crushed by self-loathing, believing herself to be the only ordinary sibling in an extraordinary family. The character can barely summon the courage to move through the world. “I related to how much Vanya was closed off,” Page says. Now on set filming the third season, co-workers have seen a change in the actor. “It seems like there’s a tremendous weight off his shoulders, a feeling of comfort,” says showrunner Steve Blackman. “There’s a lightness, a lot more smiling.” For Page, returning to set has been validating, if awkward at times. Yes, people accidentally use the wrong pronouns—“It’s going to be an adjustment,” Page says—but co-workers also see and acknowledge him.

The debate over whether cisgender people, who have repeatedly collected awards for playing trans characters, should continue to do so has largely been settled. However, trans actors have rarely been considered for cisgender parts. Whatever challenges might lie ahead, Page seems exuberant about playing a new spectrum of roles. “I’m really excited to act, now that I’m fully who I am, in this body,” Page says. “No matter the challenges and difficult moments of this, nothing amounts to getting to feel how I feel now.”

This includes having short hair again. During our interview, Page keeps rearranging strands on his forehead. It took a long time for him to return to the barber’s chair and ask to cut it short, but he got there. And how did that haircut feel?

Page tears up again, then smiles. “I just could not have enjoyed it more,” he says.”

#suicide m #transphobia m #Elliot Page #transgender #representation #celebrities #actors #tv #movies #rep #trans #transmasculine #nonbinary #queer #long post

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lokiskitten · 3 years

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Tom Hiddleston | nice acting skills

Pt2 : the changing room

Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

Author’s note : I never originally planned to write a second part but I was being held at gun point so here’s pt2 of the “nice acting skills” imagine KSKSK

plot : after going through this rather peculiar moment, you unexpectedly bump into Tom in one of the changing rooms. From there, things take an unexpected turn.

warnings : smut ( with /legal/ age gap ), unprotected sex, extremely light and discreet spanking.

You were pulled out of your daydream session again by the exhaustingly familiar sound of the director throwing around new orders, setting you and Tom free from set as this scene didn’t necessarily needed to be filmed twice. You were now sent off to the makeup and costumes room which was located nowhere far from the place you currently sat. Tom wasn’t meant to be changing nor getting ready in the same room as you did, which was totally understandable due to the fact that you didn’t share the same gender nor age. He therefore took a different turn than you did, feet leading him to the left as you were accompanied on your right.

You were allowed in your personal changing room, the makeup lady arranging her stencils which laid on the table before the mirror. However, she suddenly seemed to remember about an important detail which she seemingly needed to be getting on the instant. You were therefore left alone with nothing but the costumes and cold cup of tea to keep you company. Sighing tiredly, you sat down on the chair which faced the mirror, eyes falling on your own tired reflexion. However, you were now able to hear the sound of the door opening again, a forced smile appearing on your lips as you expected this person who just walked in to be the makeup artist.

“Did you find what you’ve been looking fo-“ you began, eyes diverting upwards only to land onto Tom’s familiar yet unexpected silhouette. He closed the door behind himself, leaning against the wall as his strong arms crossed against his bare chest. You were now trapped with him. However, it was far from being a bother. But your naturally strong mindset forced you to put up a mask and pretend as if his naked upper body wasn’t something which disturbed your mind and senses. “Oh, it’s you.” You spoke bluntly, trying you best to hide any emotion which could’ve been a threaten to your reputation as a young and serious lady.

Tom smirked. “Yes, it’s me.” He answered, his deep voice which carried a beautiful British accent rolling off his tongue perfectly. It never failed to make your heart and crotch melt. Finally getting up from the door, the older man slowly moved towards your seat before his veiny hands decided to take ahold of the leather material. His ocean blue eyes stared at your reflection in the mirror, yet he wasn’t making eye contact but simply admiring how beautiful your body was. Gently, his hand moved up to your hair which he dragged back behind your ear, fully revealing your beautiful face to him.

“You’re beautiful.” He affirmed, making sure to regulate both his voice and tone in order to guarantee that he would look as attractive as he possibly could- even tho he wouldn’t have needed any of these forced artifacts to seduce you or anyone else. You had caught him red handed through his game, though- again- it was far from being a bother. In contrary, you enjoyed it. However, the little voice in your head couldn’t help but beg you to deny his offer whilst the other part of yourself desperately wanted you to give in his flirts. Your body easily became a battlefield for those two separate opinions to fight and argue endlessly.

Face to your lack of answer- and that mostly because you were lost in your thoughts- Tom tilted his head before moving his hands down to the opening of your robe, gently starting to pull on it in order to reveal your bare chest. However, your own hand was soon to move up to his wrist and take a firm hold of it, asserting dominance and stopping the older man through his track. Face to this hostile move, the actor couldn’t help but grow confused. He frowned and accepted to respectfully pull his hand away. “Do you not want this? I beg your pardon, I thought you shared those same feelings which previously took possession of my body.” Tom explained, referring to how he felt whilst shooting the infamous scene barely a couple of minutes ago.

“No no, I do.” Your responded, your main priority being to make sure that he wouldn’t feel like he was in the wrong nor inappropriate. You finally agreed to get up from the chair you have been sitting on, still unfortunately remaining shorter than your screen partner who towered above you. “But isn’t this... not such a good thing? I mean, I always hear people brag about not mixing your love life with coworkers.” You explained, remaining aware that Tom surely didn’t work that way, which was easily noticeable if you bothered to take a look at the female casts from the movies he’s played in and link it all up with his never ending list of ex romantic partners.

Upon noticing that he didn’t seem to truly pay attention to your words, but more to your face, you stopped yourself through your speech. He was adorning those flirty eyes of his, which no woman could potentially resist to. No matter how hard you fought, in the end, you’d always fall for him. “Can you- stop looking at me like that, with your eyes and.. eyebrows.. and all of it.” You ordered, hands gesturing towards his face. Hearing those satisfying words, Tom accentuated his facial features game. “Looking at you like what?” He responded, slowly moving closer to your body until his hands could finally wrap around your waist. It felt like a huge victory to him.

Before you could know it, Tom’s lips pressed against yours, the man offering you a genuine and intense kiss which honestly resembled the ones he’d give you on set. But for now, this didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you were sharing a wanted and needed moment with your screen partner. His hands moved down from your cheeks to your shoulders, pushing off your robe which fell off your body with ease. Unlike him, you didn’t adorn any form of underwear and was therefore left naked for the older man to cherish and enjoy. The kiss progressively intensified, both of your lips parting in order to allow each other’s tongue to come in.

As he embraced your figure, Tom slowly started to push you towards the nearest wall, the two of you stumbling upon a couple of objects before your back could finally collide with the hard material. You moaned against his mouth, knee moving up to his hip which allowed you to feel his hardening bulge against your sensitive core. Your clit was throbbing, begging for sexual satisfaction coming from the man. Feeling your leg suddenly raise against his hip, Tom’s hand moved underneath your thigh and made sure to hold it up there, offering you some free support so you wouldn’t have to carry the heavy member on your own.

Tom cared a lot about the feminine pleasure- probably more than he did care for his own- which would surely guarantee you a good time spent with him during this early afternoon.

Upon feeling that you were now wrapping your arms around his neck, Tom decided to take the initiative to pull his boxers down- setting free his hardening member which had yet to grow to its full size. He was now able to fully pick you up, hands wrapped underneath your thighs in a cautious manner. His tip wouldn’t stop colliding with your soaking hole, visibly begging for entrance without ever truly daring to cross the step. Thankfully, you knew that Tom had always been a very determined man who usually reached out for the stuff he wanted instead of waiting for people to give it to him.

Therefore, it didn’t take long for him to carefully sit you down on his cock, being able to feel that you were now wet enough to painlessly welcome in his prominent member. You guys moaned together, his forehead pressing against yours as his girth was progressively coated with your love juices. Once he reached balls deep, the actor decided to take a couple of seconds in order to allow you to adjust to his size, ocean blue eyes looking up at your face which he admired and praised more than anything in the world at the moment.

Kissing your lips, Tom began to move again, hips gently and cautiously thrusting forward and retracting backwards repetitively until he felt like he could now fasten his pace. Meanwhile, you found yourself lost through pleasure and bliss, forehead firmly pressed against his as you decided that it would probably be wiser for you to keep your mouth shut and avoid to attract anyone else’s attention. Besides, you only wanted and needed his. Moaning out loud would’ve been a great risk to take as the two of you remained aware that you were in a studio filled with thousands of working people. Therefore, Tom regulated his pleasure by wincing and hissing silently whilst you decided to carry on humming sensitively.

Your arms remained wrapped around his neck as he carried on pleasuring your cunt as well as his own member, lips praising your neck which in some way also helped him through the restricted moans process. His girth rubbed past every single sensitive spot of yours, g-spot going wild and swelling out of pleasure due to the man’s perfectly appropriate actions and mannerisms. However, and without giving you a warning, Tom suddenly pulled out in order to flip you around- you chest now facing the wall as you were soon to understand that your job was now to bend over for him. His arms had probably grown tired of carrying you, which you acknowledged and understood.

Before he decided to bend you over, his large hands moved up to your breasts from behind your back, caressing and squeezing them with a lot of lustful care before he retracted his hand back to your spine, pressing his palm against your flesh and forcing you to slightly bend over. There wasn’t much space between you and the wall, which therefore only allowed you to fold a little bit. Your own palms collided with the wall as Tom’s hand caressed all the way down to your bum, giving the flesh a gentle slap before allowing his digits to take ahold of his own girth. He guided his tip to your entrance again, taking time through his actions to make sure that he would execute them properly and painlessly. Even through lust, Tom remained a gentleman.

Feeling his hardness slide inside of you again made your legs tremble, yet Tom made sure to hold you up by giving your hips a gentle and reassuring squeeze. The muscles he had developed through the intense hours spent at the gym contracted as he began to move in and out of you as you tried your best to once again remain silent and discreet. Though, a couple of moans eventually had to escape your lips. Tom shushed you respectfully, giving your bum a light spank which stood as a punishment face to your risky behavior. Yet you refused to complain, smile appearing on your parted lips as the older man continued to pound your core.

Eventually, his hips began to stutter, thrusts gaining in sloppiness which was due to his nearing orgasm. This once Tom didn’t manage to hold back his own moans, hums and groans escaping his lips as he respectfully pulled out right before white strings of sperm could be projected against your cervix. Instead, the thick liquid landed on your back, staining your flesh. “Fuck..” he praised, taking a deep breath in before exhaling loudly. His hips continued to gently rock against yours, shaft rubbing against your upper bum as Tom wished to fully get over his orgasm.

You were left emotionally shattered, body still recovering from the intense amount of emotions and sensations which had previously taken possession of your body- brain still attempting to figure out wether this was right or negative for both of your careers.

Y’all asked : I deliver. I hope you managed to enjoy it! Requested tags : @lokis-leah @marianastudiesart @fa-me @lokistoriesblog @sunshineyrosie @delightfulheartdream ❤️

[ Every single share/comment/like means a lot to me as a writer! Please never doubt that! I acknowledge and praise each one of those interactions as they also help to motivate me. Love you guys💜 thanks for the support. ]

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #marvel #marvel imagine #tom hiddleston oneshot #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston fanfic #Tom Hiddleston fluff #Tom Hiddleston

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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 3 years

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I'm reading too many fanfics and today I want something more cute than romantic, so I would like Stella with an S/o to be her personal butler who took care of her during her childhood and adolescence (bonus if S/o used to sing to Stella when she was a kid) . obviously the S / o must have a great preparation to be worthy of taking care of the daughter of the parents who were certainly one of the causes of Stella to be like this

Stella's personal Servant and S/O

You had spent years in preparation for when you would meet your mistress.

It was a common practice amongst the nobility.

You take a child from a lower house, train and raising them to become the personal servant to a child from a higher noble family.

You were of lower stock, your family heavily reliant on Stella's family, and being the youngest of your line, you found yourself chosen to be her servant.

Although the agreement basically surrendered one of there own to a life of servitude, it also brought prestige to there household, while also placing one of there own at the right hand of the next head of a powerful household.

Despite your years of training, you were still increadibly nervous upon meeting her, terrified you'd do something wrong and screw it up.

But much to your surprise, she wasn't some terrifying ice queen who could vapourise you with a glare.

She was just a girl. A young, normal looking noble girl. Seemingly not much older than you.

Your meeting was somewhat awkward, you being unsure how you should interact with her outside of the cold formalities you were taught.

Your relationship was an unusual one.

As while, yes you were her servant, you were also expected to be her closest allie and truest friend.

You were expected to take on every burden she had, to carry and guard them to the death.

A concept that hadn't fully registered in your young mind yet, but despite your age, you quickly acclimated to your new responsibilities.

You had, of course, been give training for your new duty, but much of it was learnt in the field.

You found yourself working into a schedule; wake up before her, get clean, have breakfast before waking her up at 7:30 sharp.

From there you would help her dress, something you were quite flustered about the first time around. Then you accompanied her to breakfast, then to her first lesson of the day.

You were often dismissed during her lessons, returning to her room to tidy up, or have her clothes cleaned.

It took time but eventually you were just as capable at cleaning and serving as any veteran servant of the household.

Now, initially Stella was quite... cold towards you. Treating you not much better than any other servant of the home.

But she did eventually warm to you, starting the night you heard her having a nightmare.

Much to her annoyance you had been moved into the room besides her, giving her 24 hour access to you, and you to her.

So you were easily capable of hearing her toss and turn in bed, her whimpers getting louder and louder. Until she awoke, with a scream.

You instantly shot into action, sliding into her room and pulled her into your embrace.

Holding her to your chest, you did your best to sooth her. Barely being a boy yourself you were quite inexperience with such things.

So you did the only thing you could, you sang to her.

You sung her the song your wet nurse used to sing you when you had a bad dream. Holding her for what felt like hours, gently singing to her until she fell back to sleep.

The next morning she insisted you call her Stella, unlike before when she demand the customary 'Lady' or 'Mistress'.

Not long after that she began addressing you by name. The two of you seeming to enter a level of mutual respect.

Similar events would happen several more times during your youth, each time you sang her the same song, holding her close and soothing her.

You brought up the nightmares to her parents, the two seemingly didn't care. Her parents just coldlt telling you 'They were something she needed to get over herself.'

And her parents weren't the warmest family, both her parents seemed obsessed with there appearances, placing politics over the well bing of there own daughter.

So you made her well-being your top priority, always asking if she was OK or if she wanted to talk.

In preparation for you new duties you had already received extensive training in everything from cleaning to first aid.

But as the the two of you grew, you began getting lessons in far more hands on fields.

As you were expected to be her faithful guardian. You were trained in various forms of combat, with everything from knives, to assault rifles.

Followed by several specialised first aid courses, each one dedicated to a different field of medicine.

You excelled through each course, taking the role as both servant and protector as your own.

Despite being younger then your charge, your mentality quickly matured beyond your years, willing and prepared to fight to the death for your charge.

You fully embraced you postion, putting aside everything you were and giving yourself to your new role, absolutely.

As the two of you grew older, you also grew closer and closer. And due to your special status as her personal servant, having less limitations put on you then a regular servant of the house, you could act as more of a friend to the girl. Acting as a trusted confidant for the girls troubles.

As you matured your skills, both physically and mentally, you learned to better dedicat your new skills to what would most efficiently aid your liege.

While you excelled in your training dedicating your self to the task before you, the main problem you faced was, Stella.

It may seem petty, but Stella being of a higher and more powerful cast meant she grew to tower over you by at least a foot.

Something she was sure to rub in your face.

And it may not seem like that big of a deal, but protecting someone much taller then you, was a constant struggle. As they were far more visible then yourself and could be targeted from angles you weren't able to see.

But you did your absolute best, going above and beyond as her steadfast companion, hapily waiting on her hand a foot.

It seemed like a blink if an eye and the beautiful young lady you once served had grown into a beautiful young woman.

And much to your shame, over the years spent together, you had developed a deep affection for her, an affection that went far beyond friendship.

Of course you would never publicly admit such a thing, your years of training alloweing you to keep such your feelings suppressed. Only allowing your affection to show through in what would be expected of a typical platonic relationship.

When Stella came to the age of 17, her parents decided to send her to an academy famous for its education of young noble women.

The problem was, it was an all girls academy. And you being her private servant, and right hand, the two of you could not be sepperated for such a long period of time.

It took a fair bit of political manoeuvring and more then a few favours to get you in, but by the end of it, you found yourself enrolled right besides her.

You were to attend every class as well as share quarters with Stella. You were not to leave her side unless absolutely necessary.

You were far from the only servant to accompany there mistress.

You found a variety of them, from Imps to hellhounds. You even saw a few succubus amongst them.

But the thing that really stood out, was that you were the only male, even amongst the staff.

Initially life at the academy went fantastic.

Stella, with her confident nature and families status thrived at the academy, easily rising the social ranks, making friends and allies.

The whole thing bringing a great sense of warmth to your black heart.

You stood back and proudly watched as she excelled amongst her peers, only having to step in to aid her in her day to day.

But unfortunately, problems did arise. And much to your shame, they were spawned from you.

Now, you had already received a fair amount of attention from the Student; Stares, love letters, lustful gazes. But you were there for Stella, the affects of there attention quickly dissipated as you focused on Stella.

Now you being a fairly attractive young man, in exceptional shape from years of work and being the only male in a school of a few hundred young hormonal women.

But initially, being Stella's servant stopped anyone from pursuing you, as relations with someone below them was punished severely by both the school and there families.

Unfortunately the question of who you were was quickly raised, Stella without much concern or thought, told them all about your special status as both a noble and a servant.

And that's were the problems really began.

You see, sleeping with another family's servant, was an excellent way to get yourself disowned by your family.

But a fling with a servant, whom was also a fellow noble... that could be tolerated.

You were greatly surprised to find just how tolerant the school was of such behaviour.

It would seem that despite there rather strict policy on student/Staff relations, that being pubished severely.

But the school was unwilling to take serious action against noble children for have relations amongst themselves.

It seemed they allowed the students to let out there rebellious phase in small ways, perhaps a method to help make them into proper nobles.

Needless to say, you had never been so happy you were Stella's servant.

You'd heard how some of them talked about you, and if Stella wasn't your mistress, your quite certain you'd be used as a tool for political gain, regardless how you felt about it.

Ironically, you found Stella becoming far more possessive of you, especially whenever someone began to show interest in you.

Now she had always been possessive of you to a degree, snapping at anyone who dared to treat you poorly or acted like you were supposed to serve them, something that happened quite often amongst nobility.

You liked to think it was her way of marking her territory, all the while showing you that she had your back. And with all the attention you were getting, it only made sense for her to be a bit more possessive.

Adding to your growing shame, seeing Stella becoming such a strong, confident woman had only strengthened your feelings for her.

In your mind, you had kept your feeling for Stella perfectly hidden. Only allowing your affection to show, through your friendly and platonic behaviour.

Apparently you were wrong.

Parties were surprisingly common on the school grounds, with a major party seemingly occurring at least once a month.

Stella being ever the socialite, was of course invited. The young lady flirtaciously telling you were invited as well. Following her to the party, you found a small herd of teens sipping wine from plastic cups, talking amongst themselves.

Playing nobility.

It was fun for the most part.

Everyone was dancing and drinking. And much to your surprise Stella was quite lax when it came to alcohol, drinking more than her fair share.

A little tipsy, she found you, demanding you dance with her.

Now you, on the other hand, did not party. You did not drink, you did not fraternise and you most certainly didn't dance.

You were her guardian, you were supposed to watch over her, not get drunk with her in some random dormroom.

But Stella ordered you, not having the will to refuse her, you complied.

You danced and drank and partied. And for the first time in your life, you let yourself he a teenager.

And you enjoyed it. You enjoyed being with Stella.

The mood quickly soured when, as Stella left to get a drink, some random girl grabbed you by the collar and rather aggressively tried to kiss you.

You were able to hold her back of course, even inebriated you were still strong enough to hold back a drunk teenage girl.

You were freaking out, unable to think of what to do, only for Stella to appear and violently rip her off you, beating the crap out of the her right there infront of all the other party goers.

She screamed at the girl, telling her to never touch what belonged to her again. Before without saying a word, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the party.

She dragged you into a nearby allyway, ranting and raving about how dare someone touch you, you belonged to her and she was sick of having to remind people.

Her words becoming progressively more possessive, you just half drunkenly stumbling your much taller mistress.

Raising the question of her increasingly possessive language, you saw her entire body shift.

Walking up to you, she pressed her body up against yours, effortlessly pinning you to the wall.

It was pointless to struggle, as even with all your training she was still stronger.

With eyes you had never seen before, she stared into your own and asked if you liked her.

You were both shocked and terrified, you were so sure you had been careful.

You sputtered something out, trying to hide your feelings before she cut you off with a passionate kiss.

She held you close as she told you all about how she knew you liked her, about how she knew you always held yourself back.

But she understood why.

You were left stunned when she told you the reason she knew why, was because she'd been doing the same. She confessed she had fallen for you, but like you, she had kept her feeling secret because such a relationshi wouldn't be "proper"!

But she didn't care anymore.

She was sick of keeping her feelings for you a secret, sick of watching other women get to speak and act freely while she was forced to hold her tongue.

She wanted you and she was going to have you, no matter what anyone thought.

She dragged you back to your dormroom, although it was more like a small apartment before dragging you to her bed.

Sitting above you she asked if you wanted this, unable to think of the right words you just gave her another passionate kiss.

The two of you spent the night together.

Your relationship was kept a secret for the rest of her time in the academy. The two of you agreeing it would be best and with Your position already giving you the best possible excuse to be close together.

Once you both graduated, Stella's parents tried to have an arranged marriage set up for her, hoping to achieve greater prestige for the family.

But much to your surprise, she blatantly refused.

Instead she using her new-found political connections and usurped her parents, taking the family name and the role of head of household as her own.

Her first act, openly declaring your relationship.

You were deeply relieved the outcry was very minimal, contained to only a few already outspoke critics that apposing her anyways.

And so you stood by her ever since. As bother her loyal protector and faithful lover.

Hey hey, this one was a challenge, but I still enjoyed it. If any of you have a request or want to submit a prompt, go right ahead. Check out my master list for what I won't write and go for it. Thank you all for reading.

#helluva boss headcanon #helluva boss #headcanon #x reader #helluva boss x reader #helluva stella #stella #stella x reader

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rocorambles · 3 years

Text

Lost and Found

Pairing: Yuji x Reader

Summary: You’ve always wondered what happened to that pink haired boy who had become your closest friend in the very early years of your life and you finally get the answers you’ve been searching for.

A/N: This is for the Anilysium Server’s SFW collab. Masterlist can be found here!

The first thing you notice about Yuji is his pink hair. There are lots of kids your age playing in the park, laughing and talking to each other in the sandbox, on the swings, at the playground. But it’s that shocking head of pink that grabs your attention and with childish innocence and curiosity you make a beeline for the boy you don’t know, ignoring your mom’s warning to stop running. And it’s with embarrassment that your mom chases after you, profusely apologizing to Yuji’s grandfather when you grab a tuft of that soft pink hair in your little fist in awe.

But fortunately for the both of you, the older man just smiles and waves away your mom’s mortification and Yuji giggles, light brown eyes sparking as he grabs a strand of your hair in return, commenting on its color.

It might be the strangest greeting either adult has ever seen, but it seems to work as you both release each other’s hair and instinctively reach for each other’s hands as you race towards the sandbox, chattering about what the two of you can build together with the little plastic buckets and shovels sprawled about.

Yuji’s always been a social child, boys and girls naturally drawing towards his sunny disposition and outgoing nature. So it’s not shocking to see how quickly he’s befriended you. But what is interesting is how attached he is to you and his grandfather smiles in amusement when Yuji instantly searches for you first when he goes to the park each day, flat out ignoring the excited cries from his other friends to join them, either perking up or pouting depending on if you’re there or not. And to both his and your mother’s entertainment, you seem equally enamored. The two adults exchange knowing smiles when you practically drag your mom into a sprint upon seeing your new best friend.

Your parents take turns taking you to the park depending on their work schedules and on the weekends the three of you all go, enjoying a day off as a family. The Itadoris get to know both your parents well and the adults picnic and chat amicably and easily as Yuji and you romp and run around the park.

But it was only a matter of time before your curiosity got the better of you and for once Yuji is quiet when you ask him why it’s always his grandpa who brings him to the park.

“Where’s your mommy and daddy?”

There’s no malicious intent and you quirk your head in confusion when he doesn’t immediately answer what seems like an easy question to you.

“I don’t have a mommy and daddy.”

You’re not sure what to do or think of that reply, so you easily move on to your next question full speed ahead in a way only children can, leaving the weird feeling surrounding Yuji and you far behind. And this time it’s Yuji’s turn to cock his head in confusion with your next inquiry.

“Do you want to get married when you’re older?”

“Married? What’s that?”

“Married like my mommy and daddy! It’s when two people really like each other and want to spend the rest of their lives together.”

The concept of a mom and dad aren’t foreign to Yuji. He knows it’s normal, knows he’s the odd man out even at his young age with only a grandpa to take care of him. But he’s never dwelled too much on why he doesn’t have a pair of parents, fully satisfied and happy living with his grandpa.

But marriage...that’s a new concept he can’t quite understand, something he’s never seen firsthand or grown up with in the household. And he listens in awe as you ramble on with your explanation.

Is that why your parents always seem so happy together? Is that why grandpa sometimes seems so sad? Because he isn’t married? Yuji wants to be happy too!

“Let’s get married!”

You stare wide-eyed at the enthusiastic boy staring intently at you, surprised by the decisiveness in his tone.

“I really like you and I want to play together with you forever!”

Well when he puts it like that…

You grab his hands in yours and excitedly nod your head.

“I really like you too! Let’s tell my parents and your grandpa!”

Three sets of mouths gape at the two of you when you determinedly stand in front of where the adults are seated, hands entwined as you announce that the two of you are going to get married. And then there’s laughter and your parents and Yuji’s grandfather are cooing and shaking their heads in amusement at how adorable the two of you are.

“Marriage is for when you’re older, so Yuji and you have to wait a little longer until you get married, okay?”

“Okay!” you both scream before running off to play on the slide, promise already pushed to the back of your little heads as you shriek and giggle about who can get down the slide faster.

Life continues on and despite how months pass and then years, the two of you never tire of each other, only seeming to become closer and closer. So it makes it that much more jarring when Yuji suddenly disappears.

Your parents don’t know what to do, cursing themselves for not exchanging numbers with Yuji’s grandfather and their hearts break watching you patiently sit alone on a park bench, refusing to play with or meet anyone else, telling everyone you’re waiting for your best friend. They hope it’s just a one day thing, but one day becomes two, two becomes three, and when Yuji and his grandfather never appear for an entire month, you also stop going to the park, the location only causing you more distress than good.

Fortunately this happens not too long before you enter middle school and your parents sigh in relief when you become too busy acclimating to a new school environment and making new friends to continue crying over the sudden loss of your best friend. Sadness is more fleeting in your youth and they’re grateful for this, warmly welcoming the new friends you bring back home after school to study with.

You never forget Yuji. You don’t think you could ever completely forget the boy who had been your first ever close friend. But he begins to become a distant fond memory, a mystery you think you’ll never solve. You think of him from time to time, especially as you get older and gossip about cute boys in high school, giggling and asking each other how many kids you want when you’re older, who you’re going to marry.

A wistful smile spreads across your face and you remember how sure you had been as a child that Yuji was going to be your husband, confident promises from two children who didn’t know the first thing about marriage and love. You wonder what he looks like now. Is he as happy and easygoing as he used to be? Is he as loud and talkative? Does he have a girlfriend?

You get your answer sooner than you had expected and you freeze in the middle of the busy Tokyo streets when a familiar shock of pink hair enters your line of sight. The boy’s back is turned to you and you tell yourself you’re being overdramatic. It’s Tokyo. People dye their hair all types of colors now. So what if someone else has pink hair?

But your heart tells you differently. It’s been over a decade since you’ve seen that little boy, but you swear it’s the same exact shade of pink you remember grabbing in your tiny hands back then. And before rationality can catch up to your soul, your body is already moving, drawing closer and closer to that broad back.

“Yuji?”

The name comes out softer than you intended and you wonder if he heard you. But then he’s turning and your throat begins to choke as a pair of familiar light brown eyes lock with yours. There are millions of people in Tokyo, hundreds swarming around the two of you as they make their way to the next destination. But at this moment, it’s only the two of you and before you know it he’s rushing towards you and you gasp at the feeling of a calloused thumb gently brushing your face.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. Oh my God, I can’t believe it’s really you.”

You don’t even realize the tears streaming down your face that Yuji is desperately trying to wipe away. Oh, that’s why he looks so blurry right now and you give him a happy watery smile before flinging your arms around him, soul at peace when you feel him return the embrace.

He’s so different from the young boy you knew. Taller, bigger, stronger. And yet, despite the many years that have passed, you can’t help but feel like not much has really changed at all. It feels completely natural for him to lace his fingers with yours like he used to and you let him lead you to a nearby cafe where he prattles on and on about what he’s been up to since you last saw him.

It feels surreal, like a rose tinted dream, and you tightly clutch at his hand even when you’re seated across from each other, afraid that if you let go, he’ll disappear and you’ll wake up all alone again. Turns out he’s just as talkative as he used to be and you find comfort in the familiarity of his tone despite the fact that his voice is a few decibels lower.

His grandfather suddenly got so sick that they needed to send him to a hospital and with no other adults to take care of Yuji, he couldn’t go to the park and tell you what had happened. You only cry harder when Yuji becomes teary eyed himself when he tells you how he went to the park almost everyday when he was old enough to go himself in middle school, hoping to find you so he could explain what had happened all those years ago. And Yuji joins your watery breakdown when you tell him how you waited a month for him (eternity for a young child), how you sat alone and never played with anyone else because you were always hoping that he’d show up again.

When your drinks and food arrive, you sniffle and laugh, drying your eyes, one hand each still firmy locked in each other’s grasp on the table.

“No more crying. We’re going to make up for lost time.”

Your parents are stunned when you bring Yuji back home with you that day and there’s more crying when they find out what had happened and of Yuji’s grandfather’s death. But they’re quick to welcome back the boy in their little family and Yuji becomes a common sight in your household and at your dining table, joining your families for meals and birthdays, studying with you, watching anime and playing video games late into the night, helping your mom with cooking and your dad with chores around the house. And the confirmation that he’s part of the family is only solidified when your parents tell you that all four of you will be going to visit Yuji’s grandfather’s grave together to pay your respects.

There’s not a single dry eye as you all picnic and sit in front of the tombstone and Yuji gratefully accepts the forehead kisses and hugs your parents shower him with, never once letting your hand go as you chat to Itadori-san’s spirit. You give your parents some alone time, letting them talk at length to the old man they had grown so close to while Yuji and you had played.

The two of you reminisce on those carefree days, teasing each other about who can build a bigger sandcastle now. You giggle and ask him if he remembers promising to marry you, joking about how silly and innocent the two of you were then. And you turn to Yuji, expecting to see him laughing with you, but there’s not a hint of humor on his face as he resolutely stares at you, light brown eyes concentrated as they gaze at you.

“I still want to marry you.”

You gape at him, waiting for him to break character, laugh and make fun of your dumbfounded expression. But it never comes and instead he tentatively grabs your hands, holding them in his, thumbs brushing soothingly over your trembling knuckles.

You’ve never seen Yuji nervous before. You don’t think you even thought it was possible for him to be afraid of anything. But standing in front of you, light brown eyes uncharacteristically flitting about as he tries to find adequate words, he looks so vulnerable, so sincere, so genuine. And you wait with bated breath, hope fluttering in your chest.

“I like you, like really like you. I know I said that when we were kids, but it’s still true, just like it was true back then. We lost a decade together and I know we’re still making up for that lost time, but I can’t help but feel like what we have hasn’t changed a bit. If anything I like you even more now…”

He trails off and your chest feels like it’s about to burst in fondness when you watch him trail off, uncertainty and embarrassment obvious in the way he shifts from foot to foot, a pink flush gracing his cheeks.

“I like you too, Yuji. Like...really like you.”

You giggle at the pout he gives you at the teasing tone of your voice as you use his words against him. But then it’s your turn to shift your weight from side to side as you also try to wrap your tongue around the feelings Yuji’s stirred inside of you since your reunion.

“I think I know exactly what you mean. We aren’t little kids who only run around and play in sandboxes and playgrounds anymore. There’s a giant gap between then and now that we’re trying to bridge. But I feel like reuniting at this age and seeing how well and easily we connect even now only makes me like you even more. It’s like our souls have grown together in a way despite the distance, like we were always destined to be joined at the hips.”

You stifle a chuckle at the way Yuji perks up, looking all the world like an eager puppy who’s spotted their precious owner, anxious energy surrounding him as he waits on your next words.

“So I guess what I’m saying is TBD on marriage, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to try dating.”

Your sentence isn’t even fully complete before you watch in mortification and giddiness at how quickly Yuji drops to one knee, the picture perfect of a man about to propose (if it weren’t for both your high school uniforms making it very obvious that this isn’t a typical marriage proposal).

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

There’s only one answer and you simply utter a “yes” that turns into a squeal as Yuji practically lunges at you, sweeping you in his arms and twirling you around.

#jujutsu kaisen fluff #yuji x reader #yuji fluff #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #itadori yuji fluff #itadori yuji x reader

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writemyaceattorneys · 3 years

Note

hey hey franziska anon from turnaboutyandere here 👀 so excited for this blog! i feel obligated to request for some general franziska and edgeworth headcanons please ✨

Of course Franziska Anon!!!! I’m glad that you have obliged me to talk about my favourite trilogy prosecutors, husband Miles and wife Franziska are absolutely fabulous angels.

I hope that you like these headcanons. I’m also really excited for this blog and I can’t wait to get into running it .

Spoilers: Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney - Trilogy

TW: Franziska’s whip

💎Franziska von Karma💎

💎 Relationships are a concept that are very alien to Franziska. From a young age she was taught to only seek perfection in her career, that trivial feelings such as love should always come second or not come at all.

💎 Because of this, she soon came to realise that she was very unprepared for the sudden deluge of emotion that struck her after interacting with S/O a few times.

💎 She would probably be very angry with S/O at first. How dare this foolish fool just waltz on into her life and make her feel all of these feelings and just be so oblivious to their effect on her. S/O would be on the brunt end of Franziska’s wrath (namely her whip) during this time period.

💎 It would absolutely get to the point where everyone around Franziska and S/O would realise what’s going on. Getting Franziska to confess to S/O would be nigh on impossible because of her stubbornness so it would be up to S/O to confess to Franziska first, if of course, they felt the same way.

💎 Good news! They do, (although, they had been getting the distinct feeling that Franziska didn’t like them because every time they went to talk to her, they’d walk away with several whip lashes) so S/O plans to confess their feelings to Franziska

💎 Franziska would be in shock when S/O first confesses to her, as much as she had been wishing for this to happen it was still something that she would never expect could happen to her.

💎 In terms of affection, Franziska is still going to be very closed off at first. She doesn’t have much experience in terms of PDA or even private displays of affection so S/O is going to have to be initiating a lot of it. Over time, Franziska would probably clutch onto S/O’s hand if she was angry and would very much appreciate it if S/O rubbed her hand with their thumb.

💎 She would absolutely love to show her S/O off to her colleagues!! She’d bring them to fancy dinners, conferences or whatever else she was invited to as her plus one. She sees it as her own form of affection, while she isn’t 100% comfortable with initiating more personal affection yet, she will more than happily speak about her S/O if prompted (given that the person asking isn’t a foolish fool of course).

💎 If S/O were to learn some German in order to speak to her, she’d be so flattered and would probably blush, depending on how S/O decides to compliment her, she would absolutely get embarrassed.

“Hey Franziska! du siehst heute schön aus.”

“H-Hör auf mit dieser Torheit... aber danke, mein Sonnenschein.”

💎 All in all, Franziska is very grateful for S/O’s presence in her life and she hopes to one day be able to give back in tenfold the affection and support that S/O has given to her, until that day, however, she is more than happy to bask in the warmth that her S/O provides.

Translations from the text:

Du siehst heute schön aus. - You look beautiful today.

Hör auf mit dieser Torheit... aber danke, mein Sonnenschein - Stop this foolishness...but thank you, my Sunshine.

♟Miles Edgeworth♟

♟ Very similarly to Franziska, Miles is also very inexperienced when it comes to romantic relationships. He was more focused on making his mentor proud and didn’t really focus on anything to do with dating. Because of this, he is also very oblivious to how other people feel about him which means that even if he had feelings for S/O, he wouldn’t be the one to initiate a relationship.

♟ Any form of romance with Miles Edgeworth is going to be prime slow burn material. It’ll take him a good several months to even consider forming anything closer than a professional working relationship with S/O, before anything else he would come to appreciate and admire the hard work that S/O put into whatever they did.

♟ Again, S/O is probably going to have to be the one to confess how they feel to Miles and they are going to have to be very upfront about it to avoid a miscommunication. The confession would absolutely happen somewhere privately and once Miles realised that he wasn’t the only one with these strange feelings about the other, he’d feel absolutely relieved (although he’d be sure to hide it with a wry smile and his normal formal and cool manner of speaking).

♟ Miles is also someone who is very inexperienced with public and private displays of affection and the initiation of such acts will never fail to make him incredibly flustered. He might be a bit more put off by public affection and would seize up if S/O were to as much as hold his hand in public, let alone embrace him or kiss him. This is something that he’d work on over time so at some point, he’ll be more open to holding hands in public.

♟ Despite his inexperience, Miles would probably be the most comfortable with privately displayed affection, whether that be in his office when it's just the two of them or at either his or S/O’s home. He’d absolutely be down to hold hands while he works and if he was feeling particularly worn down, he might just pull his S/O into his arms while he sits and 2just lay his head against their thorax.

♟ It’s pretty much common knowledge within the fanbase that Edgeworth has a dog at this point, so a good way to spend time outside of work would be to go with Edgeworth while he walks his dog. Also bonus points if Edgeworth’s dog also likes S/O, animals are very perceptive and as far as Edgeworth is concerned, if his dog likes and trusts S/O then there’s a good chance that he can do the same.

EXTRA! bonus points here if during the walk, Miles’ dog keeps looping the lead around both Miles’ and S/O’s knees and they end up falling into each other.

♟ Routine affection is also very important to Miles, he’d make sure to have time set aside during the day to be receptive to affection and once he gets bold enough to initiate affection and romantic gestures himself, I can guarantee that there’d be at least half an hour that he’d take out of his day to just hold S/O in his arms.

♟ Miles is also one to show off, so S/O can fully expect to be brought to all of the fancy functions and conferences that Miles has to go to. He’d also take them along on all of his international excursions so if anything, S/O can expect to become a lot more well travelled. He’d take S/O to see all of the sites in whatever country he was visiting and he would absolutely take advantage of the fact that he probably knows several European languages to further impress S/O.

He would also teach S/O different languages so that they can communicate too.

♟ One thing that Miles would definitely be concerned about is his fans. He is no stranger for receiving bouquets of flowers and other lavish gifts from people who are no doubt trying to woo him. However, he wouldn’t stand for any slander against S/O and if these fangirls grew to be too much, he’d make it abundantly clear to both his fanbase and whoever checks his packages that he won’t be receiving anything else from those who only seek to interfere in his private life.

(Sorry Wendy Oldbag, I don’t think you’ll be getting your ‘Edgy-poo’ anytime soon)

♟ Miles would be fiercely protective of his S/O. If he thought for a moment that anything that he was about to get himself into was going to put S/O in danger, he’d try to keep them as far removed from it as possible. It would absolutely wreck him if S/O was hurt and even in a non-yandere situation he’d make it his mission to make sure that anyone who put S/O at risk was brought to justice.

#franziska anon #ace attorney x reader #franziska von karma #franziska von karma x reader #miles edgeworth #miles edgeworth x reader #x reader #fanfic #ace attorney #headcanons

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seriouslysnape · 3 years

Note

Hi i would like to request severus x reader where its their first time together and reader guides sev bc he‘s a virgin ?

Okay, so I’ve been putting this one off. It’s such a good idea, I wasn’t sure how to tackle it. However, I’ve been thinking on it for a few days, and I think I did this request justice!

A Fast Learner

Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Smut.

Word Count: 3,066

“Shh. It’s okay.”

He had become very self conscious about it over the years. Well, he was self conscious about a lot of things, but especially something like this. It was embarrassing that he had made it this far in life and had never been intimate with someone. He knew it was mainly his own fault. He had spent his life saving himself for someone who wasn’t even around anymore, and someone who never loved him the way he did her.

Now, he was well into his adulthood years and he had yet to have sex with anyone. He had quite honestly accepted long ago that he’d never allow anyone to take his virginity. To most people, a person at his age with their so-called “v-card” still intact was odd and even a bit weird. Even if he did find someone he cared enough about, he would have NO idea what to do and it would be so off-putting that they’d likely run for the hills. Severus, as disappointed as he was, was convinced he’d live out the rest of his days as a virgin.

That was until he fell in love with you.

He admittedly didn’t expect it. You seemed rather average to him in the beginning. He failed to see how you were any different than anybody else he had ever encountered. The more time he spent with you, though, the more he saw in you. You were probably one of the most patient and understanding people he had ever met. You were an efficient communicator and an even better listener. You were a picture perfect person. He eventually found himself in a relationship with you that exceeded having dinner and private talks in each other’s offices.

For the first time in Severus Snape’s life, he had a steady girlfriend.

As thrilling and exciting as that was, it also caused a whole new set of worries for him. Having a girlfriend meant that he was going to have to be fully intimate at some point. It wasn’t something he could keep putting off the way he had been. You had a gut feeling that Severus had never had sex before. At first, you brushed his hesitation off to just being nervous. However, you began to notice the way he visibly would shrink away any time your make out sessions began to heat up. If nothing else, it explained why your relationship seemed to move at an aggravatingly tortuous pace.

He’d become fidgety when you tried to reach for his belt or when your giggles turned into breathy moans. He would simmer down the situation before it could ever evolve into more, which he hated to do. He knew you were dismayed whenever he did so. You were a beautiful, young woman who had needs. It wasn’t fair that you had to push your needs aside because of him. He definitely didn’t want you to begin to think that it had something to do with you.

He had never told you upfront that he was a virgin, and he hoped that maybe he would never have to. Whenever he did build up the courage to make love, perhaps he could get away with not saying anything. That dream was rather short lived when you finally questioned him one night after he turned you away once more.

You had been snuggled up next to him on the sofa in his living quarters, just chatting after a long day when your kisses became a little more heated and you ultimately ended up in his lap. Your knees were on either side of him so you were in a straddle position, kissing him with passion and desire. He kissed back as always, but you could feel the hint of uncertainty as his lips worked with yours. You kept in mind that this was usually the part where he’d stop you or get himself out of it. Still, you rolled your hips downwards into his crotch, your fingers finding his belt and beginning to unbuckle it.

As expected, he stopped kissing you and gently gripped your wrist. That was his signal for you to stop, to which you would normally just smile reassuringly and move on. However, you pulled your hand from his grasp and rested both of them on his shoulders.

You were intently looking at him, reading his guilt-stricken expression.

“Severus,” You began; “Is there something you want to tell me?”

He knew exactly what you meant. It was only a matter of time before you began to question him.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He said, letting the lie slip through his teeth.

You never averted your eyes from him. He wasn’t leaving until you obtained some answers. You wrapped a lock of his charcoal colored hair around your finger and twirled it mildly.

“Most men barely wait for their girlfriend to make a move on them. With you, it seems like you don’t want me like that.” You pointed out.

Severus was quick to answer, because this was exactly the thing he didn’t want you to think.

“No, no. I do. I really do.” He said truthfully.

Make no mistake, Severus did want to have that level of intimacy with you. He just couldn’t push himself to that point. He never wanted to disappoint you in any way, and he just knew his skills were probably little to none. You were confused at his response.

“Then why do you always push me away when I try?” You queried.

He sighed heavily. It was a fair question for you to ask. He would’ve probably asked the same if he were in your shoes. It was humiliating, but he knew he couldn’t hide it any longer. He took a breath and told you that he was a virgin. He half expected you to get up and walk out or go tell every living soul you knew. Instead, you smiled kindly and let out a soft laugh that wasn’t at all intended to be a mock towards his confession. He clenched his teeth as he awaited your reply. You moved your right hand to cup the side of his face.

“Oh, Severus...is that all?” You asked sweetly.

A feeling of surprise and relief fizzled through his body. He had been waiting for a much heavier, dramatic reaction.

“Well, I...it’s not really something I thought I’d ever tell you.” He explained, avoiding your gaze.

“You didn’t think you could keep it from me forever, did you?” You wondered. He didn’t respond, so you went on; “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I can help you.”

He let out an irritated huff. You could tell he was beyond embarrassed.

“You shouldn’t have to.” He said.

You kissed his forehead, encouraging him to embrace the situation a little.

“I want to. It’ll benefit more than just me. Your first time should be special. I want to make it special,” You acknowledged; “But only if you want to. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

He was at a crossroads here. He wanted to do this, but he was still nervous. There were a million ways he could go wrong and mess up, but he also never thought there’d be anyone willing to offer a hand to him as an adult virgin. He realized that he loved you too much to keep treating you this way...so he agreed. He couldn’t help but nervously chuckle at your blinding smile. You were eager to teach him. He’d be a master in no time.

“I promise we’ll go slow.” You declared, whipping your shirt off of your head.

Severus felt a surge of heat go through his body at your breasts that were now VERY prevalent to him. His eyes widened and his stare lingered on them like a kid in a candy store. He looked over the black, lacy material of your bra and how it perfectly accented them. His cheeks burned a fiery red that he tried to hide, but to no avail. You bit your bottom lip to hold back a smile.

“Blushing already, Professor?” You asked teasingly.

If he was already this flustered, you couldn’t wait to see him when you got to the good stuff. His eyes snapped back to yours, he sheepishly apologized.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

You hushed him, putting a finger to his lips.

“Shh. It’s okay.”

You took his hands, bringing them around to your back. You maneuvered his fingers to unclasp your bra, and you slowly pushed the straps down your arms until it fell to the floor. His cheeks turned a darker shade of red now that you were fully exposed to him. He didn’t even try to confine his stare now. You spoke softly.

“You can touch them if you want.” You granted.

“Touch them?” He asked.

You giggled lightly.

“Yeah, S. With your hands...or your mouth.”

He decided to go with the first option, not confident enough in his skills yet. His hands were trembling a tad, as he brought them up to your chest. He was awkward at first, sort of just fondling with them in an amateurish way. Your nipples grew hard at the feeling of his large hands on your soft skin. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he leaned forward and took one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucked firmly and swirled his tongue over your breast. A satisfied gasp fell from your lips, startling him and causing him to stop.

“Are you alright? Did that hurt?” He asked frantically.

You let out another laugh.

“Sev, I was moaning.” You told him.

He shyly grinned.

“Oh.”

He took your nipple into his mouth again, his confidence slowly but surely beginning to build. You brought a hand to the back of his head.

“Kiss my neck.” You instructed.

He nodded, moving his lips up to your neck and kissed where you guided his head to go. You grinded your hips down onto his lap, a groan falling from his throat. You could feel his growing erection through his pants. You smirked, knowing the real show was about to begin.

“Let’s move to the bedroom.” You said, persuading him up from the sofa.

You took him by the hand, leading him to his large bed. You debated for a moment over what the best approach to this was. You thought for a minute that maybe it would be best if he stayed on the bed and you rode him, but you figured that he wouldn’t learn much out of that, however it would be pleasurable for him. You wanted his first time to be special, as you had previously mentioned. You decided to go traditional missionary, that way you could talk him through it.

You laid on your back, laughing at the way Severus was ogling over you. You motioned for him with your finger, and he timidly climbed onto the bed. He instinctively placed one of his knees on either side of you, which was a good start.

“Move down a little.” You requested.

He shifted down a bit so you could unfasten his belt and his pants. He helped you get them off, throwing them aside. You did away with your skirt and panties, now fully naked in front of him. He was fully hard now, your hand palming at his evident erection. He let out a soft groan, feeling amazed at how he had never been touched by anyone else like this before.

He sprang free once his boxers were thrown aside to join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Your eyes gazed at his length, raking him over. You snapped out of your trance, taking him into your hand. You stroked slowly and softly, just enough so he could see how it felt.

You knew this was going to be a tedious process for the first time, you didn’t want to completely overwhelm him and ruin it for him. He let out a stuttered sigh at the feeling of his dick in your hand. He had of course rubbed himself like this before, but it was totally different when it was being done to him. His sounds were alone enough to make your sex become slick with wetness, but you reached for one of his free hands.

“Take these two fingers,” You said, pushing his side three fingers down, just leaving his middle and ring finger. You brought his fingers to your heated sex; “Now, just gently-”

You were stunned when he began rubbing in circles, slowly but firmly. You wriggled underneath him, not prepared for him to do it so well. You let out a groan at the waves of pleasure building through you, he kept his eyes on you with a rather concerned expression. He was still afraid of hurting you or messing up.

You stopped stroking him, taking his wrist and directing his fingers towards your clit. He knew he had hit the spot when you breathed out his name in a way he had never heard you before.

“Severus...” You exhaled.

He felt a burst of pride. Maybe he really could get the hang of this. He could feel the wetness spreading around his fingers, which is when you knew to stop him and move on with your instructions. You were beginning to realize that Severus was a fast learner. He’d have this in no time. You were a little breathless now, which swelled him with even more confidence.

“Take one of my legs and wrap it around your waist.” You said.

He took your right thigh into his hand, securing and hooking your leg around him. He noted that was how he’d be sure that you wouldn’t get too far from him. He was beginning to put pieces together.

“Okay, when you’re ready just push yourself in. Go slow at first.” You said, lining him up with your entrance.

His tip just barely was touching you, he looked to you, stricken with a bit of panic.

“[Y/N], I don’t want to hurt you.” He said, registering that this was the part he was most scared of.

You shook your head. Half in desperation for him and half to reassure him. You put his hands on your hips so he’d be steady once he did start to move.

“You’re not going to hurt me, Sev. I promise,” You said truthfully; “Just go at your pace. I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

You knew it wouldn’t, but it made him feel better to hear you say it. He took a breath, and leisurely pushed himself in as far as he could. You both let out a synchronous moan. He didn’t move for a second, wrapping his head around how damn good this felt. You didn’t expect him to stretch and fill you the way he did, so you were a little scattered when you spoke next.

“S-Sev, pull out a little, and then go back in again.” You said.

He gingerly pulled out, and went back in. He watched each time he moved in and out. He saw the way your eyelashes fluttered each time he went back in, and how your grip on his bicep tightened. You weren’t used to such a slow speed, but you didn’t want him to go fast if he didn’t feel like he could yet. However, you did try to convince him to pick it up a little.

“A little faster. If you want.” You said, really hoping he’d get the hint.

He did get it, and began to rock his hips faster, filling in the pauses that he had been taking between tortuous thrusts. He had figured out a rhythm now, his movements becoming monotonous, but gloriously good. He watched as your breasts bounced each time he pounded back into you, and how your mouth fell open with noises that were music to his ears.

You knew Severus was getting the hang of it, so you gave him another request.

“Take my leg and put it on your shoulder.”

He gave you a puzzled look, thinking that there was no way that would actually do anything. Still, he draped your leg over his shoulder and he thought he might just collapse. He was slamming into you at a new angle that was a total game changer, and created a whole new feeling of pleasure.

He knew sex was supposed to feel good, but he never thought it would feel THIS good. It was a bit of an accident, but he rotated his hips and you let out a high-pitched shriek that even he couldn’t mistake as a bad sound. You smirked at how he was now hitting your sensitive spot each time he went back in.

“Severus, you feel so good. Holy- yes, that’s perfect.” You cried out.

He didn’t dare speed up or slow down, if he had it right, he wasn’t going to mess with it. He continued to pound into you, alerted when he felt himself twitch inside of you. He assumed that meant that something was happening. Your own inner coil was growing hot, which was a delight to you, because you honestly weren’t sure at first if you would even finish since it was his first time. You arched your back to meet his thrusts, both of your releases coming quickly.

“Darling, I think I’m about to-” He was cut off by another one of your moans.

He felt the muscles in your leg contract, as you came around him. He thrusted a few more times before he did as well. A flash flood crashed over every nerve in his body. Your arms rested above your head as your chest heaved with each inhale. He slid out of you, falling next to you on the mattress. His head was spinning.

He had just lost his virginity. Something he had kept so private and locked away. He thought that maybe he’d be a little sad, but he wasn’t. He was beyond joyed to have lost it to someone he cared about so much. He leaned over, kissing your neck and nibbling on your earlobe.

“How...how was that?” He asked, a little apprehensive to hear your answer.

You looked over at him, a flashy smile and a voice full of honesty.

“Severus Snape,” You said; “You are one fast learner.”

#severus snape #severus snape x you #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x reader #severus #professor snape #professor snape x reader #professor snape x you #Harry Potter #harry potter snape #seriouslysnape

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Damocles

Characters: Zhongli, fm!reader

Word Count: 3,211

Warnings: Hanahaki disease – depictions of a fictional illness with symptoms mimicking tuberculosis, mentions of coughing up blood, talking a lot about death

Premise: In which the reader thinks Zhongli doesn’t reciprocate their feelings, and fears the consequences.

Author’s Note: Ngl, I don’t think I’ve ever really heard about this trope before, except maybe in passing. So if it’s a little weird that’s why.

I ended up taking the story in a bit of a macabre direction. Hopefully not too melodramatic, but I kinda like how it turned out.

Zhongli

“Thank you for telling me, but I’m afraid I cannot return your feelings. I’m sorry to be a disappointment.”

In truth you couldn’t decide whether or not you had expected your feelings to be returned. You and Zhongli had been friends for years now, and you had grown closer to him than you had to most of your previous friends and acquaintances. Indeed, you had grown closer to him than you had to many of the people you’d been in previous relationships in. You called upon him in some form almost every day, whether it be to discuss something of importance or simply bask in his presence. When there was something new you found about, whether it be a story in a book or a particularly funky looking shell, you almost immediately sought out Zhongli to share your find with.

For Zhongli’s part, he also liked to share experiences with you. At the very least you couldn’t say that your friendship was one sided. He often would be the one to walk up to you on the street, a new brand of tea written down on a piece of paper in his pocket, or a location where one could find particularly beautiful glaze lilies on his lips. He never seemed to mind when you peppered him with endless questions, or talked his ear off about your own day; something which you often asked if he found annoying. No, you were very sure that Zhongli wasn’t simply spending time with you out of pity.

In truth it was your friends who guessed the trajectory of your personal feelings before you did. Though you often found their poking and prodding intensely irritating, they had the common sense to keep the questions to a minimum – perhaps in hope their silence might guarantee that your affections would reveal themselves naturally one day. Now though you had to admit they had been right. You had fallen for Zhongli how long ago? It seemed so difficult to say when, so gradually had your feelings changed from viewing him as a confidante to viewing him as something more. Once you had finally come to terms with it you’d put off revealing your feelings as long as possible.

It wasn’t just the chance of rejection, something that would already cause emotions to run high. You had seen what sort of disease could ravage those who were unlucky in love. One of your own friends had suffered from such a disease, a fellow member of the Liyue Qixing had died from such a thing only a few months ago.

It was a terrible disease, everyone at least could agree about that. The origins of such an unfathomable sickness was much less understood. Most saw it as a curse from the gods, a punishment to the humans who would love a fellow mortal more than those who ruled above them, who gave their protection, their mercy, and their gifts to the people below. Others argued that it was simply a result of stress, for what heart could take the shock of a truly deep rejection. A rare parasite, a curse from malevolent demons, all these theories made little difference when it came to the actual disease. You were fairly sure anyways that people dying of it couldn’t care less why it happened, only that it was happening to them.

First came the coughing, easy enough to ignore in a land where the common cold truly lived up to its name. Then you couldn’t run as fast or as far as you had once, at least on the days were you weren’t fighting off crippling fatigue – the night sweats doing little to help you in your desperate need for rest. Then the fever set in, then the blood that stained the porcelain sink. By the time the first few petals would appear emaciation would already begin to claim your muscle mass and the precious body fat that kept you alive. Some people didn’t even get to the point of regurgitating fully formed flowers. Those people were usually considered lucky, for when one must deal with an incurable disease, well, surely it is better to go sooner rather than later.

You wouldn’t lie and say that wasn’t one of the reasons it took you so long to confess. After all, what you don’t know won’t kill you, right? You weren’t actually sure about that, but it sounded right in your mind, regardless of its actual veracity. However, as with most people in love, you’d found a growing recklessness inside you, paired with the sudden desperation for a happiness which you would certainly never obtain at this rate. So you’d made up your mind to tell him, deciding that perhaps the certainty would be better than the ever growing cloud of anxiety that surrounded your thoughts.

Now you’d been rejected. You had to admit that your first reaction was utter panic, the distinct feeling of having made a terrible sort of mistake. Oh sure, your feelings were undeniably hurt, but that was less important than the virtual death sentence you’d been handed. Why oh why had you decided to do this? The world seemed to swim in front of your for a moment, as simultaneously everything came into sharp focus and faded away into the recesses of your mind. What would you do now? There was nothing to do, you just had to wait for the inevitable, wait for the cold embrace of death to welcome you to its abode. You took deep breaths, trying to control yourself. Tears were forming in your eyes, but you knew that they weren’t from romantic distress. Ironically romance was the last thing in your mind right now.

“I, I see. Thank you for your honesty.”

It was all you could manage to make out. Turning around, head light from fear, you bolted down the streets of Liyue, desperate to be in your home, desperate to ignore the sword of Damocles that now hung dangerously low over your head.

Zhongli watched you go, watched as you stumbled your way through the crowd that always packed the streets of Liyue in the daytime. He was fine, he was perfectly fine. He had seen it through, had done what he knew was right. There was no reason to regret. Surely the small stab of pain he felt was temporary, a pinprick compared to all that the ex-archon had suffered over the years.

Zhongli had suspected that a confession like this might’ve been on the horizon for quite some time now. Not that he was dreading it out of a personal inability to reciprocate. No, in his heart Zhongli already reciprocated your suspected feelings. He loved you, adored you even; within the stony heart that had atrophied over years of war, suffering, and personal duty, grew a love that Zhongli had not felt for a very long time. He cherished every moment with you, knowing that his long life would try to compress the memories that were so precious to them. Seeing you whenever he could, dragged out conversations as long as he possibly could, Zhongli was practically desperate for time with you. He was also intensely aware of how short that time would ultimately be.

How could Zhongli push the curse of loving an immortal being on you? For it truly was a curse, to both parties involved. His side was painful of course, the knowledge that your memory, you lifespan even, would slip through his fingers like grains of sand. He would always be wondering whether or not the two of you would be experiencing a “last”. Last visit to the sea, last time to climb up the Huaguang Stone Forest to watch the sunset together. Last, last, last. Always the shadow of death would hang over you, so palpable in Zhongli’s mind that he might almost reach out and grasp the gossamer veil that would eventually steal you away. Yes, it would be a truly painful experience. Not nearly as painful however as your own experience.

Zhongli had long ago come to the conclusion that mortals had no true concept of the passage of time. You were young now, the world was your oyster. Zhongli’s immortal status would be nothing more than a passing thought, an anomaly and nothing more. Then your 40th birthday would pass, then you 50th, then you 60th, 70th, 80th. By the time you reached the end of your life the difference between you and Zhongli would stretch out like a chasm between the two of you, something to never be reconciled, for the old rarely forgave the young for their youth. Not to mention the other scenario, the one that Zhongli would never allow the freedom to truly cloud his thoughts. Your death of old age would be a tragedy, the alternative a catastrophe.

He knew all this, had seen it time and time again. Zhongli was hardly the first immortal being to fall in love with a mortal, would not be the last. Adepti, archons, all walks of immortal life were drawn to humanity, drawn to the freedom that came with mortality. Humans did things because they died; they had no forcible tie to nature, no innate duty other than to themselves. Humans could be wicked or kind or cruel or merciful as they wished. To those who were chained by their destiny, well, there was something very anomalous in such a choice. Perhaps it was no surprise then that an immortal being would inevitable find themselves interacting with those supposedly below them. Perhaps it was no surprise that this often led to love.

All that being true, Zhongli still refused to give into his needless selfishness. He loved you, yes. Knowing that was enough. He wouldn’t push such a burden on you, wouldn’t cause you resentment or pain. It would be better if you thought that your feelings weren’t reciprocated, it would be less painful.

Nor would you have to worry about the curse to which many less lucky fell. Zhongli still loved you, still cherished you deeply. You would never have to worry about that, for archons and adepti do not move on from love the way humans do. Zhongli’s love for you would long outlast your lifespan, one which, the archon prayed, would be very long indeed.

Yes, everything had been handled well enough. Perhaps you would never wish to speak with him again, perhaps you would grow to resent him even, how quickly love can turn into hate. It didn’t matter though. Zhongli had shielded you from long, drawn-out suffering, and that was all that mattered. He should’ve been satisfied, should have felt relief. Instead however he only felt a great sadness pressing down, a sadness combined with the pain that accompanied a love that must never truly be realized.

It had been nine days since you’d been rejected by Zhongli. Crossing off another square on the calendar which you had dug out of your old stationary you sighed. The nine days succeeding the encounter had been utter hell. At first you were convinced that the worst thing that could happen was the symptoms of the wretched illness showing up quickly, so convinced you were that the next day you would wake up with blood on your pillow. Soon however, you’d come to a completely different conclusion. There was nothing worse than waiting.

Every day was spent in the agony of anticipation, every day waiting for the coughing to begin, for the night sweats to begin ravaging your sleep, for the breathe to be stolen from your lungs. Yet every day you woke up with none of these things, though your fatigue was real enough.

You should have been relieved, should have been glad for the opportunity to live even a few more days. Yet instead of relief you only felt deep, unrelenting dread. You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything, so crippled were you by morbid anticipation.

Not that your thoughts were particularly worthwhile either. Perhaps it would be one thing if your ruminations had brought up something profound, something that you could write down in a book for your family or your friends. Though it still would be poor solace, well, at least it’d be something. But your thoughts had all turned to mush, replaced by a paranoia so strong it confined you to your bed most days.

You thought that the death sentence would in some way be freeing, that you might be able to recklessly throw yourself at all the things you had avoided out of fear for so long. Instead you found yourself depressed, waiting for an inevitable so terrifying you found yourself disconnecting from the people around you. What did it matter anyways? You’d be dead soon enough.

This gross neglect of your wellbeing was at least somewhat allayed by the routine that had been drilled into your body from so many years working for the Liyue Qixing. Though you didn’t go to work, something you were sure you were going to hear about eventually, you still dared to venture out to the market. At the very least you would eat your fill in good for before the end was nigh. No need to worry about your health after all. Besides, your definition of good food didn’t necessarily always align with completely unhealthy.

Walking through the familiar streets you stared at the people around you. How odd it was to see people so close you could touch them but so far they might as well have been in Inazuma. Was there anyone else here suffering like you were? Anyone who could understand the thoughts that now flooded your brain? You stared at the ground, trying not to think about it. You’d be confronted with these thoughts the minute you got home anyways. Might as well delay it a bit.

Turning to find the fishmonger you spied a familiar silhouette. Stopping in your tracks you stared unabashedly at Zhongli. The man seemed to be carrying himself much as ever, but the unapproachable atmosphere which he’d blanketed himself in seemed somewhat more prominent. Perhaps it was your imagination, he seemed to be talking to the butcher easily enough. Not that it was any of your business. Zhongli wasn’t any of your business anymore. It would be better if you could forget him, if you could erase this feeling in your heart that refused to go away. Even now Zhongli was beautiful. Even now you wished to run up to him, to hug him, to make pretend everything was right with the world. You couldn’t do that though. Just as you couldn’t forget him, you couldn’t love him. Not in the way you wanted. Turning away you trudged back home, good food utterly forgotten.

It was day eighteen since Zhongli had rejected you, and by now your emotions were running almost unbearably high. You’d sunk into an odd reverie of adrenaline, anxiety, and utter disbelief. What in the world was going on? This was a familiar illness to you, something that had almost claimed the life of your friend and had felled your coworker. You knew everything about symptoms, timeline, etc.; and what you knew was you were supposed to be falling ill ages ago. Eighteen days between the initial rejection and the beginning of symptoms? It was unheard of! You didn’t know what to think. Were the rumors about the gods true, had Zhongli imposed some divine protection on you for the sake of your friendship? Were you somehow a superhuman who had the white blood cell coding to defeat the bacteria that caused this disease? Why hadn’t your descent begun yet?

You lounged on the couch, having moved out of your bedroom on the thirteenth day, three days after the latest possible showing of symptoms. Though you still felt deeply afraid, you found that curiosity was a surprisingly good deterrent when it wanted to be. Your fears hadn’t disappeared, but mixed with them was a disbelief so great that you often found your thoughts drifting to questions of how rather than questions of when.

Of course your initial instinct had been to seek out Zhongli. Pride mixed with fear however had kept you firmly at home. Really what was the point in even seeking out the answer to your miraculous reprieve at this point? It wouldn’t really change the outcome. Instead you might as well enjoy this unexpected extension of your life. Besides, you didn’t want to tempt the fates a second time.

Zhongli stood at the window of your first story apartment, a glaze lily in hand. He hadn’t meant to do this, but the urge refused to leave him.

He’d noticed you a few times at the market, face drawn, eyes empty. Zhongli wasn’t sure what exactly he was expecting, but certainly this wasn’t it. He knew you weren’t suffering from illness, your pace was strong, if slightly erratic, your general aura not that of the sick that Zhongli was all too familiar with. Why then did you look so terrible? The doubts that had plagued Zhongli began to rise again, jeering at the mistake he had made. He was supposed to protect you, right? Why then did you look as if you had experienced a total health collapse?

At first Zhongli tried to ignore it. You had not come to him for help, it was not his place to try and insert himself back in your life once more. The more he thought of you however, the more he found himself uneasy. He had to have some form of communication, some way to enquire about your health. At least one last time. If you explicitly rejected all forms of contact, well then Zhongli would leave. He would never defy your wishes in such a way. Until then however, he felt like he needed to ask.

The idea of walking up to your apartment and asking you was utterly off the table. Who knew how that might end? No, he wanted a subtler way. Glaze lilies had always been a favorite of yours, sneaking out into the evening to see them bloom even more so. He would simply leave one on your windowsill. If you took it, then he would enquire about your health. If you left it, well Zhongli would have his answer.

His hand trembled slightly as he stared at the windowsill, causing the gold ribbon tied around the lily to tremble slightly. At first Zhongli wanted only to give you the flower. He realized soon however that you might be confused, wondering if someone had not simply dropped a flower on your windowsill, or had the wind blown it there? The ribbon would hopefully clear things up. Even if it looked a little silly.

Slowly placing the flower down onto the open window Zhongli sighed. Turning around he did not dare spare a glance backwards. He would have his answer soon enough after all. Until then, well, there was no point in looking back.

You exited from the kitchen, having finally felt the energy to make yourself that good food you’d been promising yourself. Going to look at the sunset you let out a soft gasp.

On your windowsill was a single glaze lily, wrapped in gold.

#no one dies but I left the ending a bit ambiguous on purpose #I wrote more about it in the ask #genshin impact fanfiction #zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli #genshin impact #requested #oneshot #my writing

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wave0fg00dvibes · 4 years

Text

Baby - Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: Spencer’s daughter tries to tell him that she’s “not a baby anymore.” He doesn’t take it too well.

A/N: I’M FREAKING BACK, BABY! It has been so long and I’m so very sorry. Here is some tooth-rotting fluff for y’all because I love you. I actually wrote this for the lovely @thekatherinewinchester as a part of @imagining-in-the-margins fic swap, and it was SO fun to write. It also really helped me to have a deadline. I think I’m going to try to do that more often!

Please leave feedback if you have any! Lots and lots and LOTS of love, as always.

Category: FLUFF

Content Warning: None

Word Count: 1.7K

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The first time our daughter attempted to assert her independence, she had just turned 6 years old.

A morning routine with two young children was often chaotic, to say the least. However, the first day of school was always a special one. For some reason, something about this particular September morning made me extra grateful and reflective, even among the disarray.

1 ½ year old Grayson sat in his highchair, babbling nonstop. Though he had only just started eating his applesauce, it completely covered his face and arms. Before I knew it, he was using his spoon to fling the food onto the floor.

Was that an issue on the top of my priority list right now? Nope.

Ava sat at the kitchen table, swinging her legs and eating her cereal with the enthusiasm of an excited 1st grader. Her polka dot dress and matching headband were neatly and meticulously adjusted, revealing the hidden nerves within her initial excitement.

The small TV on the counter was tuned into the local news, though no one ever really listened. Even if anyone wanted to pay attention, Grayson’s babbling would probably drown it out anyway. It was mostly just background noise. But, selfishly, I liked to know the state the world was in before my husband left our home each morning to go make it better, safer. I liked to at least have some idea of what he was going to encounter, even if it meant certain days were filled with anxiety and worry.

Dealing with the unease and stress was a small price to pay for the unceasing love and immeasurable happiness.

To be honest, I never imagined a world where I’d be simultaneously getting our children ready for the day and scrambling eggs for Spencer as he slept in after a long night of work. I never imagined his severe, draining job would let us have even a sliver of happy domesticity. But, as I scraped the last of the eggs onto his now-full plate, I reflected on how lucky the universe had deemed us. This shouldn’t be a reality, and yet, I couldn't imagine our life together any differently.

“Mama?” The voice of my sweet girl snapped me out of my reflective moment.

“What is it, Ava?” I asked, momentarily pausing my motions. She turned around in her chair to face me, eagerness lighting up her small face.

“I’m really excited to go back to school.”

I couldn’t help but smile. She truly was her father’s daughter in every capacity.

“I’m so glad! You’re going to have an amazing day!”

Her bright, golden eyes sparkled, and she turned back to finish her cereal.

Spencer would definitely be up soon. There was no way he was going to miss the sendoff of his favorite girl on her first day of 1st grade.

There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that Ava was going to blow all of her teachers away. I insisted on keeping her in kindergarten for her first year of school so she could make friends and get used to that type of social environment, but now that she was starting more difficult content, I knew all bets were off. She was absolutely going to skip grades, make breakthroughs, and undoubtedly change the world.

But, thankfully, that was a conversation for another day, and one Spencer was undoubtedly going to have to help me through.

At that very moment, my sweet husband rushed into the kitchen, fastening his tie as he jogged. Even in his disheveled haste, the elation in his face and pep in his clumsy steps revealed that he was just as excited about this day as Ava, if not more.

Grayson babbled in the happiest tone he could muster at the sight of his daddy, and I couldn’t help but smile right along with him.

“Good morning, buddy!” Spencer smiled, crouching to meet Grayson’s eye level and pinch his chubby, applesauce covered cheek.

The tiny gesture took me back to a time when Spencer’s cares and worries were much different. Back then, he would never have thought to voluntarily reach for the grubby face of an infant, no matter how cute. But, six years and two kids later, this was a beautiful reminder of how much we had both changed, and how lucky we were to grow together and not apart.

However, in true Spencer Reid fashion, as soon as he was done making silly faces at our son, he padded over the sink to rid his hands of the sticky, grimy applesauce.

Everything may be different now, but some things never change.

As I packed Ava’s lunch, I felt his eyes on me from behind. Before I knew it, he lightly turned me away from my task and wrapped his arms completely around me, leaning down to rest his head on my shoulder.

“Thank you.” He softly whispered.

Forgetting the rush of the morning for a moment, I let myself sink into the embrace. For though our lives plowed forward at seemingly a million miles an hour, moments like these kept me grounded, sane.

“For what?” I asked.

“The extra sleep. The food. The babies. Everything.”

The case they returned from last night must have been a nasty one. Spencer was a very affectionate person, but something about this profession felt heavier.

Nevertheless, even after so many years, he still had the ability to make my heart skip a beat.

I pulled back from the hug to smile up at him, running my hands up his arms to get lost in his hair. His eyes reflected utter joy and gratitude, despite the fact that he had undoubtedly seen some horrifying things for the past few days.

“I love you so much.” The words flew out before I could stop them. Of course, I meant them with my whole heart, the phrase just seemed so mundane compared to my ever-growing, aching love for him.

The love in his eyes and sparkle in his smile told me he knew. He always knew.

He pressed a slow, firm kiss to my lips, hands coming to rest gently on my hips as we slowly swayed together.

“I love you too.” He whispered, and before I could fully savor it, the restless world started turning again.

Stealing moments with him would forever make my heart sing, but today needed to be about our sweet girl and nothing else. After all, according to her the first day of 1st grade marks the “beginning of the true educational journey.” Lord knows we couldn’t miss a second of that.

Spencer quickly walked over to the plate I had ready for him, setting it across from Ava at the table and kissing her head as he passed.

“Good morning, baby! Are you excited for your first day?”

Ava was silent. I felt the air in the room change as she put down her spoon and looked up at him, features completely serious. Somehow, I knew what was coming before she even opened her mouth, and Spencer was not going to like it.

“Daddy. I am not a baby.”

As expected, Spencer choked on the small piece of egg he had just attempted to swallow. In spite of the sad punch of the reality that my sweet girl was growing up, I nearly snorted, covering my mouth with my hand so as to not offend her.

Spencer looked absolutely dumbfounded.

“But, you are technically my baby-” He attempted to explain.

Ava was not having it. She took a deep breath, pushing her bowl of lucky charms aside so she could fold her hands in front of herself on the table.

“The term ‘baby’ is applied to infants from birth to the age of 1, and then sometimes to toddlers from ages 1 to 4. I am 6 now, daddy, so technically I have already let you get away with it for an extra year.”

Oh, my girl. What a little firecracker she was. No one in the entire world besides her could silence Dr. Spencer Reid with one sentence.

Spencer sat there at a loss for words, fork still in hand, clearly trying to formulate a coherent sentence.

“But…”

The school bus pulled up in front of our house with impeccable timing.

“Ava honey, the bus is here!” I gladly interrupted, shoving the lunchbox into her backpack and zipping it up.

Her poor father. I had never seen his jaw drop for so long before.

But, as always, there was no time to unpack in the current moment. That would have to be a later conversation.

Ava excitedly got down from the table, running to put her dishes in the sink before grabbing her backpack and putting it on with complete elation. I lifted Grayson from the highchair, quickly wiping off his applesauce-covered face with the ratty old t-shirt of Spencer’s I was wearing. By that time, Spencer had slightly snapped out of his trance in order to help Ava put on her sparkly converse shoes and matching coat.

The four of us were greeted by the autumn breeze as we stepped out onto the front porch. Spencer and I instinctively bent down to simultaneously kiss her cheeks, and she hugged our necks with the fervor of all the love in the world. She gave Grayson a small cheek kiss as well before turning away to start her new educational adventure.

“Have the best day, sweet girl!” I yelled after her as she sprinted down the driveway to the bus. She waved in reply. Though I couldn't have been prouder of her, I couldn’t help but notice the new missing piece of my heart that seemingly got on the school bus with her.

It was at that moment that I realized Spencer hadn’t said a single word since his baby proclaimed otherwise. He still looked like he had seen a ghost.

“You alright there, old man?” I playfully nudged him with my shoulder, bouncing Grayson on my hip.

“But she… she is my baby…”

I smiled, knowingly, trying to hide the small pain that struck my heart at the thought of Ava growing up. There were no words I could say that would calm his racing heart in the moment. So, I held our smallest baby a little bit tighter and leaned up to lightly brush my lips against Spencer’s.

“I know. Me too.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid request #spencer reid x y/n

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ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her · 3 years

Text

On Education

An excerpt from Memoirs of a Flesh Eater, never published.

Previous Excerpt

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I think every parent struggles with the question of when they should teach their children hard truths. At some point, every child needs to learn about death. They need to learn about hatred. They need to learn about the horrors people will inflict on them for being different. This is something that is as true for ghouls as it is for humans. For most people, it is a fact of life that someone will hate you for existing.

Human-on-human prejudice is still something I don’t fully understand. At least humans have a reason to hate us. I don’t know why they go looking for reasons to hate each other too.

Educating ghouls is a challenge. We need to know about ourselves, of course. We need to know about our kind - our needs, our history, our ways of moving through human society - but we need to learn everything that humans learn too. The more we can fit seamlessly into the human world, the safer we are. You probably don’t know this, what with how much the news loves a story about a ghoul living in secret among humans, their murders exposed to the shock of their friends and acquaintances, but those of us who are brought up among humans don’t get found out very often. It’s the feral children, the big city packs that still hunt most of their food, the all-ghoul communes, that are easier targets for the exterminators. Those of us that are fully integrated are much harder to sniff out, unless we seriously fuck up.

{Editing Note: Don’t say fuck. Even though it’s a really good word}

The best way to make sure a ghoul can pass as human is to start us young. Get us into kindergarten, then elementary school, and keep going all the way through college. There’s nothing better than hands-on training. That’s what my mom did for me, mostly. I was raised in human society, in the human public school system, and I’ve never had a true close call. I’ve never caught the eye of an exterminator, and no human has ever asked me pointed questions about my habits or diet.

For the sake of completeness, I should say that I was in the human public school system for everything except for middle school. It’s not like that’s a great loss, though - everything I’ve heard about middle school sounds like hell. I don’t know how any of you survived going through puberty in front of all your peers.

{Editing Note: I am not talking about ghoul puberty unless I can find a reliable human to tell me what their puberty was like. If I wrote about something that I thought was ghoul-specific but is actually normal I’d die on the spot. I’d call a fucking exterminator on myself.}

Conventional schooling might be the best setup for success, but it’s also the most dangerous route. Kids talk, and that’s as true for us as it is for you. It takes a lot of work to make a child understand that there are some things you can never tell anyone, not even your closest friends, not ever. It’s not a fun burden to grow up carrying either. I’ve known the fear of death for literally longer than I can remember. I’ve known that letting myself be truly honest and vulnerable with any of my classmates would bring it to me and my parents before the day was over {Editing Note: True vulnerability is what I need now, though. I should find a place to talk about my dad}. It’s more loneliness than any child should ever grow up with. I was lucky; I found Scarlet in 4th grade. There are plenty of ghoul children that don’t find each other until high school, if there are even any other ghoul children to be found.

Some parents decide that the risk is too great. They’d rather have alive children than well-adjusted children, so they homeschool them {Editing Note: Okay, that’s way too harsh. Don’t be biased}. I did get to experience this approach for those couple of years when I wasn’t in middle school, and it does have some advantages other than safety. When I was in public school, my mom had to find time after school to teach me about our people. In a homeschool setting, ghoul studies could actually be integrated into our curriculum. It wasn’t completely asocial, either - ghoul parents often use their Society connections to find other ghoul children that are homeschooling so we can learn together. I met my second best friend, Scorpio, because we were homeschooled together.

{Editing Note: My friends are going to read this. I need to make it super clear that Scorpio is the second best friend I made chronologically. I’m not ranking my friends in front of the entire world.}

Scorpio’s a good friend, but he’s also a good case study for the drawbacks of homeschooling. He was homeschooled K through 12 and he is definitely the worst of my friends at passing. He has no idea what’s normal for ghouls vs normal for humans, so he compensates by either saying nothing or saying the most obvious, outlandish lies you could imagine when childhood comes up in conversation. In his defense, those lies are usually pretty funny, and he does connect pretty well with the right kind of people. Scorpio’s got a bunch of very specific subjects that he knows a ton about and loves to talk about. He and Scarlet can go on for hours about literary theory.

{Editing Note: That’s too meandering. I’m just trying to explain why some ghouls homeschool and some don’t - I don’t need to put my weird friends on blast.}

There’s another kind of formal schooling for ghouls that’s much, much rarer - the ghoul private school. The only one I even knew of, St. Raymond’s, was shut down last year by exterminators. Normally I’d tell you to take the lurid details you hear on the news with a healthy pinch of salt, and I still would, but that many rich young ghouls, completely cut off from the rest of humanity… it’s hard to predict what becomes normalized in that kind of echo chamber.

Fortunately, my patron knows more people than I do, so I have more to offer you than grim speculation. According to her, these kinds of places always have a very small student body, rarely breaking a hundred. The lesson content is pretty similar to homeschool - fully integrated ghoul curriculum, plus a few specialized lessons on blending into human society. Out of necessity, they’re almost always boarding schools. It’s easier to keep a low profile if you don’t have a bunch of ghoul kids not used to hiding going to and from the campus every day.

Apparently, it’s that kind of logistical challenge that makes these schools so rare. Aside from all the money you need to run a school in the first place, and how careful you need to be to pass scrutiny from the Board of Education, providing discretely for the needs of that many ghouls is an organizational nightmare. I mean, there’s a reason that ghoul families are so small, a reason why even our extended households rarely do more than scrape the double digits. There’s only so much flesh that can be safely obtained in one area at a time. There aren’t a lot of ghouls that have the resources and the inclination to put one of these schools together.

There is, of course, one more ways that ghouls are educated - the school of hard knocks {Editing Note: That’s such a trivializing way to put it. Have some sensitivity, me}. Given how short our average life expectancy is, it’s inevitable that some ghoul children have to fend for themselves from a very young age. I doubt it comes as a surprise that most of them don’t manage to integrate into human society very well. The lucky ones figure out early on how to kill discreetly, how to hide their nature from observers, and how to vary their hunting patterns enough to avoid the attention of the exterminators. The rest either starve quietly or die violently.

Most of these feral ghouls who survive to be teenagers eventually find each other and form packs. From a pure survival standpoint, this is a bad move. A group of feral teenage ghouls have a much harder time covering their tracks than they would as individuals, but for most, the chance at companionship is too tempting. It’s miserable, being alone in the world. Packs offer most of them the best chance to escape loneliness that they’ll ever get. And for most of them, it ends in a shallow grave within a year. Putting down a pack of feral ghouls is a good headline for an exterminator, and it’s a lot less work than trying to ferret out those of us who’ve figured out how to pass. That isn’t how the majority of ghouls die, but it’s how a plurality of us do.

For those few feral ghouls that survive to adulthood, their lives take one of three paths. Sometimes they find a patron and fall in with a household, and they do their best to heal from the trauma of their childhood. They do their best to find a happy life in human society, just like those of us who were luckier. Sometimes they become true Hunters, living their lives on the outskirts of our Society; still embraced by us, if only at an arm’s length. I’ll talk more about them later.

And sometimes, they become the Lost. Not that ghouls from any walk of life are immune to that fate, but… I’ll get to them later too. You may not have heard of them by that name, but I guarantee you’ve heard of the Lost.

{Editing Note: That’s a really grim note to end the chapter on. I should play with the structure a bit and find a more uplifting note to leave this subject on.}

{Editing Note: Or I could ask Kestrel. I’m sure she’d have ideas on how to better write the section on feral ghouls, and she could help me strike a more authentic tone. But… I don’t want to upset her. She doesn’t like to think about it, and I don’t want to hurt her. Is this important enough? Would she think it’s important enough?}

#my writing #original fiction #not tlt #memoirs of a flesh eater

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worldcakecakecake · 3 years

Text

Feliciano and the King of Hearts

Chosen by the gods as the Queen of Hearts from the moment of birth, we follow Feliciano’s story as he grows into royal life, learns to rule, go against age old customs, and his relationship with his husband to be, the King of Hearts.

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 IChapter 9I Chapter 10I Chapter 11I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15 I Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19I Chapter 20 I Chapter 21 I Chapter 22 I Chapter 23 I Chapter 24 I Chapter 25 I Chapter 26 I Chapter 27 I Chapter 28I Chapter 29 I Chapter 30 I Chapter 31 I Chapter 32 I Chapter 33 I Chapter 34 I Chapter 35 I Chapter 36 I Chapter 37I chapter 38 I Chapter 39 I Chapter 40 I Chapter 41 I Chapter 42 I Chapter 43 I Chapter 44 I Chapter 45 I Chapter 46I Chapter 47 I Chapter 48 I Chapter 49 I Chapter 50 I Chapter 51 I Chapter 52 I Chapter 53 I Chapter 54 I Chapter 55 I Chapter 56 I Chapter 57 I Chapter 58 I Chapter 59 I Chapter 60I Chapter 61 I Chapter 62 I Chapter 63 I Chapter 64 I Chapter 65 I Chapter 66 I Chapter 67 I Chapter 68 I Chapter 69 I Chapter 70 I Chapter 71 I Chapter 72 I Chapter 73 I Chapter 74 I Chapter 75 I Chapter 76 I Chapter 77 I Chapter 78 I Chapter 79 I Chapter 80

Look! A chapter! HOOZA! SO DARN CLOSE OMG! Yes, like always, I apologize for taking so long, tons of things, as usual. I hope the chapter makes do for it...I guess. Enjoy!

Chapter 81

And celebration rang, with shouts and applauses, the swing of flags and surviving weapons decorating the field in wonderful splendor. Some jumped, danced, complete strangers embraced one another or even kissed in the passion of lovers. Roderich and Francis couldn’t help but to cry, Elizabeta, Lili and Vash embracing them…not long before they joined in the same tears. Alfred took as many as he could in for the largest group hug he intended to make, much to Arthur’s distaste of being squeezed between many of his people. As Yao was trying to find his escape, he bumped into Ivan, who proceeded to take him into a large embrace, the very one the Spadian Jack was trying to avoid. Yet as Ivan took his lip…he didn’t find himself minding any longer. He wrapped his arms around the Clubian King’s neck and let himself that beautiful bliss.

The three Heartian royals stood alone in this sudden feast. Feliciano had already commanded that none were to come close, and so they yet remained in their field were Khaos’s last traces had been, still in the same silence that had welcomed them when Khaos was at last officially defeated.

“What are we waiting for?” Kiku asked, because indeed that was what it felt like they were doing, especially with Feliciano looking on as if…expecting someone to come.

“Is this about that one thing you asked us to protect? That Khaos had?” Feliciano nodded to Ludwig, taking steps forward, right towards this sun rise. Ludwig and Kiku stayed behind and watched, giving Feliciano some space to breathe and focus.

“…he’s here,” he whispered after the silence he wanted was reached.

It wasn’t a message for Ludwig, for Kiku, for anybody there.

“…he’s here…I know he’s here…” he whispered on, a hand reaching so it could focus on one spot.

The wind that blew now was different, the energy that came ancient, along with the magic and form that even to Ludwig and Kiku, felt as the arise of a person. And there, in a sudden flash, there was a red ball of fire, fitting along with the sun, potent and shinning to them like another burning star.

Feliciano sighed, smiled…and even began to cry. “He’s here…He’s here…” he still repeated.

Something suddenly changed in the air, like an earthquake…but nothing shook, nothing trembled, magic and energy just rained, at first, invisible, like a force that brought everyone to silence as their eyes came to the Heartian royals, to the center of what was occurring. Then there was flashes of light, golden and glittering, blowing and seeming to scream into the skies. Feliciano was engulfed in it, in fact, from him it turned larger, a calming fire blazing, arising into the skies, taking the whole field, in beautiful reds and golds that the Heartian Queen helped to make tall, letting his halo, his marks, his wings, shine on up. It was a storm that reminded them of when Khaos had first turned, but this…although powerful and indeed fearsome at first, it was gentle, caring, a beauty that instead of turning away all, it brought and made them aw in a combine admiration. A form became evident, gigantic and towering, with flowers, jewels and silk to cover…her…in grace. From the rains of this colorful and royal feast, she came, showing herself in all her pure form. She was as high as Khaos had been, looking down to all her people with deep fondness in large ruby eyes. Ah, she was gorgeous. Her curled hair fell down to her knees, crowned with a large golden pillar halo that matched well with the specks of gold in her long red dress, tainted like stars, like constellations. Her skin was marked in long lines of vines and symbols, identical to the ones Feliciano held. They also shared a set of wings, although hers were with a hint of rose, much larger, surely to extend to the next mountains if she spread them open. And then the structure of her face, her smile…Feliciano, Lovino, Renata and all the rest of the Valenti knew she was family. For a moment, they were reminded of Augusto and understood then why he had the perfect namesake. Even as she stood gigantically over them, especially when she kneeled, her reach to the ground soft like wind, none were intimidated, all smiled and welcomed the presence of an Ace.

“…Nonna Augusta,” Feliciano greeted her so meekly once the release was completed.

She looked to him with deep fondness, kneeling and bringing her head much closer to his. Ludwig and Kiku were startled slightly back at being right before a large face like this, if even so beautiful.

“Feliciano…” and she smiled with a ring that surely brought music to the whole valley, “l’hai fatto.” He shook at the realization once again…completed and fulfilled. “A mission that I set upon a thousand years ago, one in which the state of your world and mine was held at a delicate balance. I harbored power through my family, generation by generation, until it was with you that the next alignment found itself with. It was much to put that responsibility on only you, so young and still so new to a ruling of a kingdom. Yet, it was by your hand that it was done. With a belief and effort that I was proud to witness, see it grow and now…I watch as it shines.” Feliciano blushed, so intense that he wanted to hide it, not being able to continue his stare with his great grandmother.

“Of course, I also owe congratulations and compliments to the King and Jack.” Ludwig and Kiku startled, more so when this great Ace bowed to them. “Your own growth, I paid attention to, and it is worthy of your position.” And they couldn’t answer, as nervous and blushing as Feliciano. “And the others…” she turned to meet their gazes in the crowd, their knees shaking and eyes widened as if taking blame. She couldn’t help the chuckle. “Brave you have been, courageous and a great loyalty shown to your kingdom. Your respective Ace I know is just as proud.” They wanted to faint from the honor. Even Alfred was left speechless and without a high comment to say.

“And your people, who without every piece of help they could give…we would not stand victorious here now. I thank you all. You have brought to this world a peace that has never been, new and promising. Darkness has disappeared and now light will always be prominent.” Shy cheers and applauses spread, part of the crowds wanted to remain respectful, as presentable as possible for an Ace. Augusta partly rolled her eyes at it, Feliciano giggled at such a human presentation. It was just the ring that brought her giant gaze back to him again.

“You have freed me from your vessel. No doubt you learned it in the Eternal Reserved.” Feliciano nodded sheepishly, worried that perhaps it was something she had not wished. “Why so?” She asked and for a moment Feliciano forgot every single language he knew. He needed a moment to bring his words back, leaving a silence that left everyone else with tension.

“I know…you would want to meet him again in person…” was all he could utter.

Ah…of course.

Her expression suddenly changed to something so unsure and weak, a pain that had been there for thousands of years presented. She then turned to the small ball of fire that Feliciano had brought only minutes ago. It looked so insignificant and small to all, yet for her, who reached and engulfed it in the palm of her hand with care, love deep in her eyes, making her flourish the more, it was a worth higher than any gold. She smiled, with a hint of a lake forming in her eyes, standing once again to bring this light closer to her heart. There, between folds of satin, lay the most prominent and beautiful of all the designs on her body. Feliciano could recognize it as the most ancient Heart symbol and the light fitted perfectly to its art.

“Romulus…Romulus…” she prayed his name in relief, caressing it as if he was fully there.

He was…he was truly there.

Ludwig and Kiku exchanged glances with wide eyes and mouths.

“You have to thank Ludwig and the Beilschmidts,” and he turned to his husband with such pride, like he was the one that did the magic. Ludwig startled and for a moment didn’t understand his part in it. “They carried his soul along, for just the time that you passed through my lineage. It was corrupted…and you saw how Khaos used it for his own purpose.” A dark memory that brought gruesome shivers to Ludwig. He turned his attention to Augusta’s light and suddenly it was gone. “But he learned to control it, to fight against it…and together we purified it…united it with another part Khaos still held and he is now…with you.” Feliciano was joyous, and he knew his great grandmother more so, letting the light bounce and letting herself laugh. Truly a wonder.

“Oh, Feliciano. I could give you the whole world for doing all of this…and in fact.” There was indeed a reward that was to be given, and released or not, she would make do Feliciano received it. She extended her large arm long, closed her eyes, and called forward a strong magic, potent and surely meant to break apart the very line that divided their world from others. It was the kind of power that not even Feliciano knew or didn’t think he would ever reach enough to master. This was portal opening, Augusta with an ease creating a large window enough to give her enormous frame passage. Other than just an opening, the edges were decorated and strengthened with beautifully carved pillars, pots and statues that rained on magic and light, with flowers vines of red and gold that bloomed before their eyes and seemed to dance at the welcome of their Ace. Inside its frame was just light, reflecting and glimmering in pinks wonderfully. What was on the other side, they couldn’t see, but it awaited them patiently, yet the three royals were hesitant, as if a bar was still being held in front of them.

Augusta smiled at them, “come.” A barefoot went easily in, just as the waters and dives Feliciano remembered from the Interludes. She let her whole body go in its taking, with her dress, hair, wings and halo. A single hand gave a final wave to all her people and she was gone, only leaving behind the light of the portal. Kiku, Ludwig and Feliciano were yet frozen…but Feliciano was the one to take a deep breath and dared to be the first to take a step. It was just like the interludes…there was nothing to fear. It was the example and leadership Ludwig and Kiku followed, matching along together to be granted passage as a single force.

Feliciano recognized this feeling of going between, the feel as if water purifying you into a new world, while Kiku and Ludwig were startled at this wonderment, almost tripping in their welcome. With the change of the portal, Ludwig and Kiku were granted their very own form. Both with reddish and golden marks, wings, Ludwig’s a darker red while Kiku’s were almost orange. They shone with strong halos, of fire, heavy surely if it was back in their own world…but here it was as light as another strand in their hair. Their clothes turned into richness and beauty as the very ones Augusta had shown herself in, to the style of their province, making clear their origins, the three making quite a trio as they stood above a stage that put them to look below to what this world was.

They were left breathless, almost fainting at the colors, the sound of the creatures that roamed freely and confident, palaces and palaces, piling up, shinning with the rarest of crystals and forms, with water, routes, trees and flowers cascading down to different floating islands. Clouds and mist seemed to grant them this flight, this place in between the folds of the universe, perfect like heaven.

“What…what…” Kiku tried to word but was still too taken to really continue what he meant to ask.

“What is this place?” Ludwig somehow managed to reach.

“The heavens,” And Augusta appeared beside them, not gigantic, but matching with their own statures, yet still decorated as beautifully. She placed comforting and welcoming hands on their shoulders, leading them, with the way she practically flew forward, telling them to follow her. She easily went over the precipice, with each step creating a path of golden bricks, shaped with clouds and shine, a hint of pink to them that the three royals couldn’t resist their own step towards.

They passed well-turned spirits and souls, riding happily on the backs of dragons, phoenixes or St. Marks, each animal decorated just as gorgeously as their human counterparts. They spotted trees and flowers that they had never seen before, overflowing from roofs, some even floating, in the control of those who wanted to make them fly or make them sprinkle the air.

Feliciano had to try and remember every detail, every portrait, every scene painted on walls, the capture of statues, or nature in vases, bricks, sidewalks, glasses and crystals reflecting more whatever shine decided to present itself as they walked on.

The deeper they went, the more came to gather, shouting, congratulating, in an array of different languages, some their own but as it was spoken two hundred years ago. From their wear, their marks, their wings or halos, they saw people from a span of many years, Feliciano recognizing many of their clothes from old paintings.

Augusta continued to lead them through this celebration, floating them through the streets, the golds, between arches of sapphire, pillars in diamonds and green vines coming alive through every wall. Even as the songs and shouts were directed at them, the three royals, taken still by what they saw, couldn’t raise their hands, couldn’t utter a word, their eyes still occupied taking every detail, every movement, every color. Augusta kept leading them through crevices and wondrous corners, until she could expose them to surely the four largest palaces in the realm.

Nothing in their world could compare to their tallness, their majesty, shine and as Augusta laid them back on the ground, right before the road that could lead to her red and golden one, the three royals felt unworthy to step on such a pavement. They were left no other choice as Augusta blew away with ease the road for them she had created, bringing them to the center of this feast, to the loudest of all the cheers, and also the very center of their universe. They noticed then three beings come, one in blue, the other green, and one in yellow. Even as they stood in their same stature, the Heartians could feel nothing but power and magic from them, almighty and way above whatever reaches they could reach even when they were right there. They knew they were the other Aces. Artem, Maiara and Jabbar. They came to meet their fellow sister…who they hadn’t seen like this in surely centuries. In an act that was utterly human, they all came into an embrace, together, in an union that Feliciano swore he could see their entire world shine in. Augusta let herself go to introduce forward the royals chosen for her own kingdom, the three surely shaking and with eyes of enchantment…but also panic. They bowed, as low to the ground, kneeled and hands extended as they were taught in the very rare case they were in front of all four Aces.

“No need, stand.” Artem commanded, and quick, like they had been scolded, they stood, precise and orderly. “No such greetings are needed.”

“It is us that should bow,” Maiara reminded as she started, the rest of the three following in her lead, their thanks large as their knees reached the ground and their hands came to them in reverence.

They wanted to say something…wanted to tell them that it was not necessary…they didn’t deserve this, shown as if Aces themselves. Despite everything, they were still only human, not beings that created this entirety. Yet…it was an honor…one that strained their words and their actions, embarrassingly only standing there agape…it was only Feliciano who began to cry, having to put his arms to himself to try and keep his feelings under some kind of control. “Oh, please, please stop! Stand!” He in the end had to shout at them. And all four rose up with smiles and laughter.

“You have saved your world,” Jabbar continued.

“And through it, our own, here in the Heavens,” Augusta spread her arms to show it, even to the souls that celebrated and cheered from their heights, in their celestial homes and days. Truly beauty, a jewel, shinning eternally in colors that now Feliciano really hoped he could remember to sketch it all to his memory.

“As well as the Interludes, the very passage and line that balances all our worlds. If it wasn’t for your actions…all of it could have been gone,” Artem continued. “It still stands, by your efforts.”

Maiara then chuckled, “with the use of wisdom, your power, the trust you placed not only on one another, but your people had on you.”

“And above all, love being the driving force that stood against all. Ludwig, Feliciano, your love truly defeated Khaos,” Augusta resonated some words Augusto had said himself. Ludwig and Feliciano blushed, turning towards one another wanting more than ever to kiss and hug each other in that very love that won this war. Oh, if Augusto…that reminded Feliciano. He turned and looked towards whatever floating islands, to whatever rush of people…hoping to find those familiar curls he himself inherited.

“Feliciano!” Came that known shout.

Just like that, Feliciano was almost on the ground from the force his grandfather greeted him in, his embrace just the same, with celebration and pride that just had to be showcased even before the Aces. Of course, Kiku and Ludwig couldn’t be left out from it. Once Augusto made the space, he took both the King and Jack to the same embrace, laughing and practically dancing in circles.

How they have missed these joyous little feasts between themselves, loud and happiness glowing for all to witness.

“I’m so proud, so proud for all of you. You have done amazing!” He shouted, going as far as to even kiss Ludwig and Kiku, both left dumbfounded at such an action, but they smiled at it and took it as but another way to shout celebration. Feliciano hanged himself over him, laughing and letting himself be that child that long ago used to do just that. In heaven, before the Aces, it didn’t matter. He would let everyone know how much he loved and how dear was his grandfather to him.

But his grandfather wasn’t alone, with him came tailing a whole group, wearing all similar wears of reds and golds, a symbol that they all shared, proof of being Heartian, Italian, and more specifically, Valenti.

“Oh! Vieni! Vieni! You have to meet your family!” He pulled Feliciano and the rest to this large crowd, all with the famous Valenti curls, from blondes to brunettes, even an occasional red-head. From distinct and strong facial features, to the simple ones like his own. Some were very tall, others beautifully plum, some, whether men or women, had short hair above their ears, others had none, or some had it falling down their back. It was all to the styles of the times they were born into. Feliciano was shy to meet them, even if indeed they were all family, but it was unexpected, it was too much…yet he didn’t mind giving his greetings, hugging even some he had heard much about, going on with random chats as if they had known each other all their lives. The Aces didn’t mind this, they let Feliciano this reunion with his family…it would be good persuasion with what they were about to offer.

“Feliciano,” Augusta called him forward, open arms, and Feliciano rushed to it, not at all hesitating in the hold he took of her hands. Warm, comforting and like home. Augusta shook them and suddenly she found herself nervous to say what she wanted. But a turn to the Aces, a nod, an approval, and of course, a hurry and excitement, and Augusta turned to her great grandson determined.

“Feliciano, what you have done, is deserving of an award.”

“Nonna, really, you don’t-”

“Amore, please let me…I promised this and it is something you must come along and take.” A deep breath, a silence suddenly coming, no one daring to disturb the words of an Ace. It was quite eerie how the entire heavens just fell silent for this. “As I have told, as I prophesied and the other Aces and I have made ready for centuries…in the hopes that Khaos was indeed defeated…” she breathed, she prepared, “Feliciano…you must come to live with me in the heavens now and become…” she turned, pulling him them closer to the road that will lead to her palace, all of a sudden presenting itself with more shine. “The new Ace of Hearts.”

Suddenly, angels came, marching like an army, only to decorate the road, raising flags upon flags to decorate in welcome, surely for a pathway they wanted the Heartian Queen to take. Some played drums and trumpets, added then with the cheer of the crowds, already celebrating as if Feliciano had already passed the palace gates…making it officially his new home. Then, a creature, a St. Mark walked towards him, having journeyed from the Heartian Ace palace. This one was large, majestic, decorated with more jewels, with armors that could go against meteors and surely with a roar that could cause earthquakes in his world. It was Fabius, Augusta’s own St. Mark like Pookie was to Feliciano. The lion, now small, cowered on Feliciano’s shoulder, intimidated by this one…even if it was his father. The St. Mark bowed to Feliciano and the Queen did so back, the creature seeming to smile and shine along with the celebration, moving aside for when Feliciano came forward. Augusta cuddled herself towards him and the Lion, no matter how godly, leaned towards her in the same devotion.

Ludwig and Kiku on the other hand, stilled, the news only downcasting them, not even the feast around them enough to bring them back into light. Ludwig…tried hard to hide how already he was breaking apart inside, defeated…like he had already lost Feliciano over a precipice he would never reach for him again.

He knew…he knew this would happen…he knew this would come…if what they wanted occurred…this was to be the next step, the finality that settled everything and made an ending to this story. It’s one of the reasons he had tried to keep him apart after the eight year gap, why he refused to accept his feelings as well as Feliciano’s, refusing any kind of advance so Feliciano could accept it all as he deserved.

He had wanted this not to hurt, he sometimes liked to daydream that he would applaud and only wave Feliciano some sort of goodbye that will settle well for an eternity. He would turn and march on with a smile on his face. But here now…he couldn’t move, couldn’t say a word but shake and try to hold down the tears that surely wanted to burst and reveal the moment of weakness this was. Kiku must have noticed…he must be feeling the same way, and they gazed between one another in a moment of understanding and trying to reach some comfort.

“Should we…?” Kiku surely questioned if there was a way to stop this, to place themselves as a hold to what this future could be. Ludwig, with a deep breath, looked away, ready as if to leave that instant away from the heavens. Suddenly it didn’t hold the same charm anymore.

“No…this is…this is…the greatest award that could be given. Glory that Hearts, our world, neither we can ever match with,” he sighed, still trying to make himself believe those words. “We will congratulate him…and leave.” And Ludwig, without even looking at Kiku, could just feel his utter refusal, but in part he did have to agree with those words, instead, hiding to himself whatever he meant to say, what he meant to act.

“He’ll…he’ll make a great Ace…at least we’ll know were under right guidance…and the balance of the universe is in good hands.” This was goodbye and there was not more to be done.

As Ludwig tried to take a last grasp of his husband between the still celebrating multitudes…he only wished he could properly say goodbye…hold him and kiss him one last time before anything…but by the looks of it…it didn’t seem likely. He sighed and accepted that whatever glimpses he could get would be the last he would have of him.

Yes…to Feliciano…this was all glorious. The floating islands, the wonderful colors, the magic, the richness of these palaces and castles, of the roars of the people around him. Yes…it was an eternal celebration that would keep him mighty for eons. He thought about how he still possessed the hand of creation, looking down to his hands as if already he could see everything he could bring alive…whole new worlds, cosmos and universes extending far beyond this one. Yet in that expanse…he spotted clearly the bearing gems. Two identical ones on each side of his hands…both shinning like their own sun, lighting and bringing life to a world…he had promised someone he would help create. It was in that moment he turned to Ludwig…who refused to meet his eyes, yet he saw sorrow in them that Feliciano shared in, suddenly the colors and music greying and lifeless to him. Those around him easily saw how his smile disappeared, and the shine in his eyes was gone. They silenced at such display, giving him space, thought, and the Aces could show their question as to why he know saddened when he was at the center of such an opportunity. Feliciano was scared to utter these words, here at the mercy of the Aces…but he had to insist, had to make them understand.

“And…if I don’t want to?” He placed the idea, one that surprised all, not thinking that it would be something that Feliciano would dare consider when what they would give they thought would be above whatever Hearts had.

“Feliciano, these are the heavens, a position as an Ace, with riches and everything you want at your fingertips. Why would there be a reason to deny?” Augusta tried to persuade.

“Who’s going to take care of my children?”

Augusta widened as if she was just finding out…when in reality…she had completely forgotten about that detail, having to reconsider, organize, with a glance to the other Aces and they quickly came to another decision.

“They shall be born here and stay with you.”

“Away from their father? From their grandparents…their family…their home. Leave everything behind as if it was all nothing…”

A long silence before Jabbar dared speak, “Are you truly only speaking about the children? Or is this about yourself?” With how Feliciano widened, it made sure that Jabbar hit straight to what the Queen felt.

“Yes…it’s also what I feel.” Here he turned to his Jack and King, a large smile that showed true to a promise. “This…this place is beautiful. A dream, a wonder, this chance…rare…perhaps I would be the only one for centuries to come that will be granted something like this…yet…” he began to walk towards his friend, his husband, no one around him daring to intrude his sure and set path. “Hearts…the world…mean so much to me. Enough it is my heaven, my place. It is home.” Now he stood right in front of them, his words now for them to hear. “When I was born…you saw someone in me that could save the world…but you also gave me a position, you gave me a duty as the Queen of Hearts.” Close yet to his Jack and King, he turned to face the Aces again. “Many times…I doubted it…I had wished and prayed that it wouldn’t be my destiny…I even tried to run away from it once…but now I see that it is my place, it is my calling…it will be wrong of me to turn away from it now…” He grasped one hand of Kiku, another of Ludwig’s. “My reign is still so young…there is still so much I can do in Hearts, so much I can help the whole world with, so much I should be there for. Nonna Augusta…you’re back again…the position is for you as the universe intends.” He hoped they understood, he hoped he wasn’t creating an offence, wasn’t disrespecting. But as Kiku and Ludwig grasped their own hold on their Queen’s hand…Feliciano smiled and suddenly stood higher, understanding then…there was no need to worry for any spite of gods. He knew then that they were in no position to react such a way against them, especially after saving their worlds.

His next words had a confidence as tough as the pillars and gold the buildings here were made of. “I want to stay in Hearts. I want to stay with my people. I want to stay with my Jack…and I want to stay with my husband.” The devotion, the utter love these two exchanged, made all the four Aces realize that they were naïve to think that Feliciano would chose a life away from this man. “I know my place…and it is with my family.”

To his surprise, the Aces smiled between one another, a new energy spread…and it wasn’t bad or punishing. Augusto began to chuckle, the rest of the Valenti there joining him, with laughs that shared joy across all the souls present.

“Very well then…you will stay to finish your reign in Hearts,” Artem spoke in decision.

“When it is done, and you have lived your life as any Queen, you will be welcomed here,” Maiara continued.

“The same shall await you then, and Ludwig, Kiku and every important member in your life shall all have a safe assurance of an afterlife here,” Jabbar said.

“Till then, we will await you. Now, we wish you farewell, a wondrous life to give to the world and to your family,” Augusta wished, coming over to give an embrace that to Feliciano was just like those of his family. He enjoyed from this warmth, wrapping his own arms around her as echoes of new celebration began to ring. In this hold, Feliciano released magic that had been weighted on him since birth…the hand of creation. In a wonderful swirl of platinum and gold, it was transferred back to Augusta. She splendored more in its shine as it placed her back as creator and superior goddess. When it was finished, she welcomed in the rest of the Valenti, and Feliciano enjoyed the most from his grandfather, surely to be the last for a long time. He had his chance to give his own to his grandmother, Helena, who he had never had the chance to meet in his world…he saw a lot of her in Lovino…and suddenly he already missed him and his nephew.

“Go and live,” his grandfather wished, and with those words, Feliciano had to tearfully let go of them, turning to then place them with Ludwig, who grasped Feliciano…relieved beyond however he had felt before. Without a care on who stared, where he was…he spun Feliciano to have him in front, hands adjusted on his waist, to pull him into a kiss, strong, magical, these forms giving it a touch that made sparks surely glow all around them. When they released and looked into their eyes…Feliciano truly saw that he had made the right decision. Ludwig raised his hands and let his fingers caress on the jewels…excited and hoping for a bright future with a new family just for them.

Any threats were away…Ludwig could now celebrate the coming of his own children…and that he was to return to Berlin with Feliciano.

Augusta smiled and opened her arms to create a portal, this one small, just the space for all three of the Hearts royals to make their passing back home. Kiku waved his goodbye before he rushed through. Ludwig and Feliciano refused to let go of their hands, determined to pass together. Ludwig had begun his engulfing, but Feliciano spared a last glance back…

The last he saw was celebration still ringing, chorus surely sang and orchestras played, the Aces watching them leave dutifully and then beside Augusta…the light, the one Feliciano had saved from the cage of Khaos, as well as with power from Ludwig…it began to grow, large enough until it was a figure as Augusta. It began to clear, it began to come alive…and for the first time Feliciano had seen what his great grandfather Romulus actually looked like.

Dark hair in silk waves, the same that was on his beard, but despite it, Feliciano could see a long and strong face, handsome, it slightly reminded him of Lovino. Green eyes, likes leaves and grass, a stature, a smile, a last gratitude to his own grandson before he turned to his long missed wife. They held to each other with all the strength needed for centuries. What more they would do, Feliciano didn’t see, he had passed through, everything beginning to erase in bright light.

He left behind the heavens to return home.

- o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o

Next chapter is the very last...oh boy.

#Feliciano and the King of Hearts #fatkoh #f&tkoh #gerita #gerita fanfiction #gerita fanfic #gerita fic

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dreamiguess · 3 years

Text

Day???: Coronation

A late submission for @fundyfiles FWT week.

Summary:

Some twisted, selfish part of him wants someone to walk in, to witness the first and last time he’ll be able to love Dream publicly, to cause such a scandal he’d be removed from the line of succession entirely.

On AO3: divine rights

“I shouldn’t have found out from your father.”

No. He shouldn’t have.

“Found out what?” Fundy lies, thin as silk and half as smooth.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” he answers, the ice in his voice melting. The disappointment is worse than the steel, and he feels as if he were to peel back another layer he would find nothing but raw hurt. Because it hurts, doesn’t it? For Fundy more than anyone else, maybe. Dream would come at a close second. He stares at the floor somewhere between them, not ready to face either.

“I didn’t know how.”

It’s a half answer to a question that wasn’t asked, tired and barely audible. He hadn’t known how to process it for himself either, with one sleepless night to churn the news in his head over and over again before preparations for the ceremony began. The work made it easier at least, kept him too busy to think or feel. But standing in front of the captain, his captain, in an empty hallway, there is nowhere to escape it. As the silence settles between them, he finds the courage to look up.

Dream looks vulnerable, too vulnerable to be out in the open like this. He wears only a half plate and sword belt, still more lethal than most would be in full iron but it looks unnatural for him to be patrolling the castle in anything but. It’s standard off duty garb, but it’s too fitting for him to still protect his heart at a time like this. He had pulled his mask to the side, and it’s more intimate than if he were completely naked, green eyes staring him down. They’re not angry, though, and he thinks that’s what breaks him.

“It was supposed to be Tommy.”

He’s in Dream’s embrace before the first tear can hit the ground, cries muffled in his shoulder before they can echo against the stone walls. It’s terribly improper, to be seen in the arms of a soldier, especially in such a public place. Some twisted, selfish part of him wants someone to walk in, to witness the first and last time he’ll be able to love Dream publicly, to cause such a scandal he’d be removed from the line of succession entirely. Even as the tears subsides he can’t bring himself to step back, just moves so the crown of his head is pushed into Dream’s chest instead of his face.

“It was supposed to be Tommy,” he repeats.

It was always supposed to be Tommy. On the surface level, he was a direct descendent rather than a grandson. But more than that, he was charismatic and loud, had strong opinions and voiced them frequently. He was loyal to a fault and way too sharp for his age. Most importantly, though, he wanted crown prince and, one day, the throne. Fundy wanted a street kid who climbed the ranks too swift and too violent.

With war brewing in the South, his Majesty was forced to choose the next successor far too early, and Tommy is still too young and brash for that weight to be placed upon his shoulders.

It haunts them. Laying in bed at dusk, a luxury they only allow themselves on the darkest halcyon nights, and tracing patterns down Dream’s back. He savors the moment, lets it melt in his ribcage and swallow him whole.

“What does this mean for us?” he asks, as if he wasn’t the one who should know better than anyone. They both know what he’s talking about, the glass shards lying on the floor for them in the morning.

“The end, probably.” Dream lifts his head enough to look Fundy in the eye. One would think he’d have forgotten how to hide his emotions after wearing a mask so long, but his face is as guarded as if he hadn’t taken it off at all. It’s a privilege, a blessing even, to see it at all and one he doesn’t take for granted. He venerates every scar and treasures each freckle, because he’s beautiful even if Dream himself cannot see it.

“You can’t marry below your station anymore.” He rolls to his back and sighs. “And if your uncles do not, you’ll be expected to produce an heir.”

Fundy can’t help but laugh.

“You really think they won’t?” he asks, disbelieving. It earns him a smile.

“Still. I have no noble blood.”

“Fuck the nobles.”

Like sin it follows them to the training grounds, dancing around it lest they reveal too much to the knights nearby. The entire family is expected to be military leaders in the event of conflict, and now doubly so for Fundy. Who better to practice with than their rising combat specialist?

“I’m on duty for the coronation,” he mentions over the clash of their practice swords. Fundy wants him to use steel, to put his life in the hands of his love and trust him fully and recklessly. The captain always refuses.

“I feel infinitely safer,” Fundy replies, pulling his weapon back and aiming for a slash to his side.

“I am honored to bring you peace of mind, your highness.” He blocks the attack and catches the blade with the hilt of his sword, turning his wrist to fling the broadsword from the prince’s grip. Before Fundy can react there’s a hand in his tunic and a swift heel sweeping his right leg off the ground completely. Dream lowers him to the dirt slowly, only truly letting him fall a foot at most. He falls all the same. The tip of his sword is cold underneath Fundy’s chin, it’s wielder haloed by sunlight above him. The instinct to bare his neck is too strong and Fundy is too weak, and he doesn’t have enough shame to delight in the way Dream swallows at the action.

“I yield.”

He takes the hand that’s offered, staring into the mask’s eyes the whole time. Their hands stay clasped for far longer than necessary because they’re equally terrible, it seems.

“I’m thinking about taking the promotion.” Dream drops his hand and turns to retrieve his discarded weapon, leaving Fundy to reel in his shellshock.

“For General?” He asks mechanically, another question they both know the answer to. He’s had a lot of them lately, and this time Dream doesn’t even respond. Just strides back to their arena and extends the handle out, ungloved hand wrapped around the blade in a mirroring act of faith. They’ve put their stone sword in the hand of Themis to balance her scales on, where the head that wears the crown rests opposite the hand that bears the shield. The power to absolutely ruin, offered freely.

Fundy doesn’t take it at all.

“I hate to leave early, but I feel a bit faint after that fall. Would you escort me back to the castle?”

Dream bows his head, never one to slip from their polished act.

“Of course, your highness. I should have been more careful.” After returning their equipment and strapping his swordbelt – his real swordbelt – back into place, Dream falls into step with him out of the arena. The October air is kind to them, leaving goosebumps where sweat had stained their skin just moments before. It’s peaceful for a few minutes, as morning doves and starlings steadily replace the ringing of steel and their gentle footsteps drown out the thumps of bodies hitting the ground. Time slowed since Dream broke the news to him, far too casual for something they had discussed for far too long, and Fundy can almost believe that the route he’s taken isn’t far too long to lead back to the castle.

“I thought you,” he starts once they’re well beyond hearing distance. “I thought you wanted to remain a captain.”

It’s difficult to phrase what he wants to say. Fundy is not Dream’s keeper and for his love’s sake if nothing else, he won’t act like one. He wants to, though, wants to hold on to him like a child and repeat every debate they’d considered since the offer was made. I thought it was too dangerous. I thought it was too much responsibility, you liked your squadron too much, hated meetings. I thought, I thought, I thought.

And of course, the drumming song beneath it all: I thought you wouldn’t leave me.

“I’ve always been a strategist,” he replies, voice too even to be genuine. A sigh escapes him, and he entwines their fingers and lets his head rest ever so slightly on Fundy’s shoulder. He’s living in the illusion, Fundy can tell, basking in the feeling of lovers talking a walk on an Autumn day. The prince can see right through him, can taste every thought he’ll never acknowledge, much less share.

“And the position needs to be filled sooner rather than later.”

This is what he means: We need to end, and I can’t stay if I can’t have you. He means to save Fundy from himself, to cut the chord so Fundy can’t try to keep him. To force Fundy to follow the rules.

“Bullshit.” He surprises himself with the outburst. “Leaving for some war won’t make me stop loving you. You don’t need to fucking protect me,” he throws their connected hands in the air and fights for words. “Protect me from-“

Dream tugs free before he can finish, unclasps his mask and throws it to the forest floor without even looking. He cups Fundy’s face in both hands, eyes shining with renegade tears.

“I don’t know how to do anything else.” He sounds broken and Fundy feels it like glass. There are too many things he should say so he says nothing at all, wraps a hand into the collar of his shirt like a man possessed and pushes until Dream’s back hits the tree and he can’t get any closer. He kisses him like he’s dying, kisses him like the world is ending, like they’re already on their future battlefields and Dream is his only lifeline.

The coronation arrives all too fast. He lives in a limbo between the grand hall and his chambers, between the seamstress and the head chef. The ceremony is beautiful, with green and gold filling the room and glass sparkling in the setting sunlight. He’s reached a state of calm he hadn’t believed possible only two weeks ago, looses himself in the dull ache of kneeling and the rhythmic voice of their Sage. No matter how foreign the crown feels, he doesn’t have to lie as he repeats the oath; he loves the kingdom, can swear to benevolence, to serve the people. The promises settle deep in his bones. The responsibilities, the service, was never really his problem.

“I present to you your crown prince,” the vicar finishes, and Fundy stands to face the people. He’d practiced the ceremony, knows he’s supposed to wait for quiet to settle once more and kiss his grandmother’s hand, to bow before his Majesty and show humility. Instead, he walks straight back down the aisle in long strides to where the guards are posted at the doors. The murmurs and gasps don’t matter, have faded from his awareness completely by the time he reaches Dream. And with sure hands, he pushes the stupid mask up enough to free the bottom half of his face and buries a hand in blonde hair, and finally falls into his love. He kisses him gently, and gentler when his love unfreezes enough to return the affection. In front of his father and his father before him and anyone else who cared to show up, Fundy claims his divine right.

Fuck the nobles.

#fundywastaken #fwtweek2021 #my writing #unfortunately due to my like. life rn i won't be finishing this series #i have half of day 2 written but i think i have to scrap it #thank you if you've kept with me during this series #always nice to enjoy the small corners #mine

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yukisohmasmokesweed · 3 years

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I recently watched 1x10 for the pod and realized just how much of a peek-behind-the-curtain episode this is for Shigure. The episode does a great job breaking down Shigure’s motivations, agenda, and objective as well as exploring some of his morality and self-perception in a really subtle and nuanced way. I wanted to break down what exactly was said in the episode and what the subtext is showing us about who Shigure is and what he wants: an obsessive man who puts his selfish desires first, always, all while trapping himself deeply within the very curse that he is trying to break.

Motivation: The Dream

Each zodiac’s curse manifests in different ways. For example, Yuki experiences the curse through the lens of social isolation and self-blame, Kyo through familial rejection and projected blame, Hatori through resignation and grief, Ritsu through extreme guilt, etc. Shigure’s manifests as obsession.

This dream was something special to all of them, but it soured over time. The anime implies for Hatori that it was because of Kana,

but I believe that was the last straw in a haystack of crushing oppression for Hatori (see: having the ability to erase memories and being expected to carry out the task no matter who it hurts by the family as a whole, Akito, and his father, who also had this power). As for Ayame, he does not fit in with the Sohma’s traditionalism and conservatism and he never attempted to do so, and as an adult he has done everything he can to divorce himself from the Sohma image—going into a non-traditional and arguably taboo field of work, moving away from the estate, and keeping secrets from the family, even his own brother. Kureno is a special case and Ritsu was too young to remember this. For Shigure though, he became obsessed with this feeling, and because he didn’t have the bad experiences Hatori had growing up or chafe too hard against the family culture like Ayame, it became a life-long obsession that, over time, shifted from chasing that “feeling” to chasing Akito as an individual.

A note about the Dog: The Year of the Dog’s defining trait is loyalty, but they are also notably stubborn. This doesn’t speak to the authorial intent (Takaya added the zodiac aspect to the story late in the game, after their characters was set), but I also think that Shigure being the Dog is a great indicator as to why, out of everyone, Shigure’s curse manifests as obsession, and why he’s in love with Akito despite Akito’s treatment of him, the other zodiacs, and other people as a whole.

Agenda: Emotional manipulation

Shigure believes that the curse has weakened over time. The dragon was apparently not always a seahorse, which implies that the magic is weakening, and this is the first time in a long time where all of the zodiacs have been alive at the same time. Due to this as well as their closeness in age and the agitation present between Akito and the zodiacs, Shigure thinks that this is the curse’s last hurrah before breaking.

Shigure wants to speed up the process by exacerbating what he believes to be an already unraveling curse by turning the zodiacs against Akito, showing them that their lives have meaning and potential outside of the curse, and influencing them to start questioning the narrative around the curse as a whole as well as the ones around each of their individual zodiacs.

The curse’s most obvious effect is the physical one, but the emotional component is arguably much more significant. This is why Shigure is agitating the zodiac’s emotions. He often says things he knows will hurt them, but instead of hurling insults like Akito, what he says challenges the zodiac’s beliefs about themselves, one another, the curse, and Sohma family as a whole. He is aiming for their internal lives and beliefs in a way that makes his meddling seem almost invisible; he manipulates through influence instead of force, orchestrating it so that the zodiacs feel as if they have come to a new conclusion on their own. Here is how 1x10 shows us that tactic:

Shigure is trying to push Kyo into realizing that his feelings for Yuki are more influenced by the Sohmas than he thinks they are (implication of the word “duty,” that it’s not something Kyo chose for himself), and that if he takes a step back from the situation that he might see that him and Yuki have more in common than he thinks (”afraid of getting to know him”).

However, this doesn’t work, and it’s directly because Shigure has known who he is and what he wants since childhood. He has never had to struggle with his own personhood, identity, isolation, and blame the way that Kyo has—not to say that he hasn’t at all, but not to the extent of the Cat. Shigure logically knows why Kyo hates Yuki, but he can’t put himself in Kyo’s shoes because their experience with the curse are too different; Shigure fully embraced the curse, falling into obsession over it and making the choice to permanently attach himself to Akito, and that decision is rewarded for the most part. Kyo, on the other hand, has spent his entire life being rejected and ostracized by his family as well as being scapegoated for things he had no control over. Kyo’s issues with blame and isolation are not something that Shigure can empathize with, leading him to get frustrated with Kyo’s stubbornness and pushing Kyo too hard before he’s ready. All in all it’s not bad advice, but Kyo’s issues run extremely deep, and Shigure got impatient. This scene is Shigure messing up, indelicately going to the heart of the matter because his timeline of events is moving slower than he bargained for, and he accidentally shows his hand because of it.

Objective: Akito

Shigure’s objective is to be on equal terms with Akito and pursue a real relationship with them. The only way to do this is to break the curse, freeing Shigure from Akito’s power and taking Akito’s command over him away, as well as undermining the importance of the other zodiacs in Akito’s life.

The anime does a nice job portraying this to us subtextually by visually juxtaposing the relationships that are the main focus of this episode:

Tohru lowers herself to meet Kyo where he is, whereas Shigure positions himself physically above Akito. The former is a relationship built on equality and mutual trust, the latter one on an inherent and unavoidable power imbalance, resulting in jealousy, toxicity, and a constant struggle for power.

At first glance the shot of Shigure and Akito would imply that Shigure is the one with the power due to their positioning, but it is Akito who has the power. Akito doesn’t stand up to greet him, simply expecting Shigure to come to them and bend at the waist to accommodate their position. Shigure tries to assert his power here by being physically larger and looming, but Akito is so confident in theirs that they wordlessly watch as Shigure does the exact thing Akito wanted.

Morality: Always looking out for #1

Shigure’s goal is a selfish one, and he has leaned into that completely. He is gloatingly self-aware, which allows him to further his plans without any moral qualms in the way.

The inner circle of the Sohma family has a strong culture of pervasive cruelty. We see it over and over again—Kyo’s treatment by the people around him, Haru’s, Yuki’s, Hatori’s, Rin’s, etc etc. Cruelty is extremely normalized within the family, and you can see even in this fairly casual conversation that Shigure and Hatori take shots at one another (other scenes where this happens between them include 2x7, 2x25, off the top of my head). The line of what is deemed “acceptable” in a larger societal sense is much farther for the Sohma family, and this greatly influenced Shigure’s sense of morality and decency. He is intelligent enough to know that hurting others is wrong, but it’s what has been modeled for him his entire life and something he’s participated in before for various reasons. Hurting others is normal for him and of a small blip in his radar in the grand scheme of things.

Shigure’s morals are warped, but he is also extremely intelligent as well as in touch with his emotions. He is aware that if Tohru gets hurt that it will hurt him in turn, both because she is an outsider whose life he is playing with and because he can’t help but care about her (which is what makes her so good for his plans), but his end goal is overall more important to him than his or anyone else’s emotions in the moment.

Self-perception:

All the other zodiacs hold some level of resentment towards Akito and the curse, but Shigure doesn’t resent Akito. He resents the curse because it’s standing between him and a real relationship with Akito, but not Akito themselves. Since childhood, Shigure has been unapologetically obsessed with Akito, and the power of that obsession and the intensity of the bond has led Shigure to live a one-track life, disregarding the pain of people close to him to feed his own selfish desires, going so far as to willingly dirty Tohru, an outsider and a child, to enable his plans. The others live in misery that has been forced onto them; Shigure picked his poison and never plans on letting it go.

Conclusion: Shigure is a nasty little man

1x10 is an excellent look into Shigure’s inner life and ultimate goals. It very clearly shows us that he is motivated by a love that was initially the pure love of a child-turned-dark and desperate. His motivations are selfish, his actions hurtful and oftentimes callous, and his morality twisted by both the family culture and his own doing. This episode does an amazing job juxtaposing Shigure’s unique relationship with the curse against Kyo’s as two ends of the extreme: the former is trying to break the curse so he can have an individual, the latter desperate to be included in the curse so he can find acceptance from the group. Shigure is an underhanded character who very rarely says what he wants outright, but the subtext of this episode is full of great little moments to spell out what Shigure’s game is and how he plans on winning it.

#shigure sohma #fruits basket #fruits basket 2019 #fruits basket reboot #fruits basket meta #meta???#takes a huge bong rip

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saranghanuuu · 3 years

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PERKS OF DATING A YOUNGER GUY I LEARNED AFTER WATCHING CHINESE DRAMA FIND YOURSELF + REVIEW!

1. He has less baggage

This means that he has more time to attend to your needs and wants unlike an older guy with a demanding schedule and lots of responsibilities at hand.

2. He's more open-minded and adventurous

They are open to having new experiences and won't judge you for veering off the path you should stay on.

3. He's infectiously energetic *ehem*

Need I say more? A younger guy's youthful sense will surely find unimaginable ways to impress you!

4. He puts you on a pedestal

A younger man will appreciate your maturity and experiences and will admire you for it. They're also most likely take advice from you without letting it bruise their ego.

5. He'll make you feel young

Be prepared to relive the fun parts of your younger years with him.

It's not so wrong to say that the May-December relationship is taboo, especially among Asians. Most people I know had this inkling that when a younger guy hooks up with a woman way older than him, it could prolly mean one of two things — the guy's a paramour or she's a sugar momma. I'm honestly not a fan of it either on the premise that women mature faster than men. Let's be real, an immature relationship is a disaster. But now that I'm in my late 20s, and a hopeless romantic single at that, I kinda pondered over this. It suddenly occurred to me, what if one day I’m caught up in the position of being pursued by a younger man? Will I let the stigma affect me emotionally? Or will I take the risk ‘coz all is fair in love? I still don’t have a definite answer to this question. However, watching Find Yourself served as an eye-opener for me to look at things from a different perspective.

Find Yourself is a 2020 Chinese drama starring Song Wei Long and Victoria Song. It tells the story of a 32-year old Executive Director who never *even once* experienced dating. Given her age and career stability, she receives constant pressure from the people around her to find someone to marry and has since frequented blind dates arranged by her family, friends, or colleagues. But this girl is just someone who swears by the "spark" - no spark, then no point to the relationship. She may be old for fantasizing over first love and such, but she still yearns that it'll naturally come to find her someday. Until her thirst for real romance is quenched by a 22-year-old guy who started working as an intern in her company at his brother’s request.

Although hesitant at first due to their huge age difference and the societal views, she went out with him on the condition that they'll keep it a secret for the first 3 months. If everything went well, she agrees to publicize her relationship with him.

Let’s start off with the good things...

I just can't with this drama...! This so beautiful, cute, relatable - especially for a woman in late 20s like me.

Plot-wise, it was well-imparted and makes perfect sense, touching a looooooot of relationship aspects in 41 episodes. Not only did I enjoy the happenings between our main couple, but our side couples' stories are very interesting too.

This drama pretty much straightened out my prejudice about age-gap relationships.

Light-hearted, just the way I like it! Every episode will make you smile and/or laugh hard.

Sexual tensions overload and superb kissing scenes! Let those hormones rush in. Not awkward to watch 'coz They. Did. Not. Hold. Back. Ack! If you're single, be prepared to feel MORE SINGLE watching this drama.

Well-written lines that will make you feel real emotions. The words will shoot you straight to the heart.

Acting-wise, the casts, from the mains down to the sides, did a super fine job in conveying the sentiments of their characters. My highest admiration goes to male lead Yuan Song, not (only) because he’s young, hot, and handsome, but because his youthful vibe made me reminisce the paradox of my early 20s awww. Anyways, in the beginning, I am sort of confused why (of all girls) he fell head over heels with our female lead He Fanxing who's obviously out of his league. I even suspected him of taking advantage of her naivety in matters of the heart. But as the drama went along, our dude proved himself genuine... That he's sincerely just a guy who's deeply in love with a woman... That indeed, true love can exist in this kind of relationship. Both Yuan Song and Fanxing emotionally benefited from each other and it's so lovely seeing that.

⚠️ AND SORRY BUT THIS IS A SPOILER ALERT⚠️

Halfway through the drama, our main couple called it quits. I'm somewhat grateful that it happened. Their break-up scene is just so powerful I had to rewind it many times. Not because I liked seeing them suffer from the consequences of their incompatibility. Rather, I loved it 'coz it became the turning point of their relationship.

Their love is premature, to begin with — trust isn't mutual, commitment is one-way, only showing each other's good sides in fear of the relationship turning sour, one is willing to compromise while the other wants to avoid responsibility, filled with doubts and insecurities. During this break-up phase, we were shown the difference between how kids and adults behave and decide in a dilemma. I suddenly remembered this one line delivered in the drama which I agree with — "Only kids would choose one or the other. Adults find solutions". The break-up also served as our main couple's period of contemplation about who and what they want in life. It taught them how to fully embrace their offbeat romance against the norms. Fortunately, things wrapped up into a sweet end.

And of course the bad...

Hmmm... Maybe I'm just not used to it but am I the only one who thinks that this drama is quite lengthy? Yes, I enjoyed it but it's not a good one to binge-watch. It took me almost a month to finish this I nearly drowned haha. Honestly, there were parts they could've just compressed instead of dragging it for too long. One example is Ye Luming and He Fanxing's relationship trial. Ooohhh I hate this part it brought shivers down my spine ugh. Well truth be told, Luming and Fanxing are compatible and better off as friends. They jive so well, and I give it to them that they're both adults who can only understand adult things.

But when Luming all of a sudden became a sneaky character to an intolerable point... Ah, I don't know anymore! Seeing how compelled Fanxing is to being Luming's girlfriend got under my skin. Although these ugly parts eventually became a good contributory factor to Fanxing's realization of her true feelings towards Yuan Song, but still...! I also hated Fanxing at one point for being so gullible in love. But yeah, I had to swallow it because that's her character setup in the first place. It should be expected of her to be hasty and dubious about it.

On the other hand, I wished they've been generous in showing us more about how Yuan Song and Fanxing's relationship is going after the public reveal. I've been waiting for this the entire time (they could've done so much more in 41 episodes' length!) so I'm quite disappointed.

After watching the second season of Well-Intended Love, I admit I lost interest in Chinese dramas. So watching this restored my faith in them. I even have a list of C-dramas lined up now! But I have to move on from this one first before I start another. It's not as easy as I thought ㅠㅠ

What do you think about this drama? Are we on the same frequency? ❤️

If you haven't watched this yet, watch it now. As in 지금부터 RIGHT NOW. Highly-recommended!

#find yourself #下一站是幸福 #song weilong #victoria song #chinese drama #romance #comedy #drama reviews #yuan song #he fanxing #chinese #romcom #cdrama #may-december relationship

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