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#he's literally capable of not doing that and i will not make excuses for him
mindstriker · 3 days
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pspspsps I have not played BG3 but I’d listen to you get on the soapbox about Astarion and Gale and Lae’zel. :] I love the vampire…twink(?) and hearing good things about that Gale guy and the frog(?) lady who makes my gender kinda start buzzing like a cicada <3
THE PEOPLE HAVE SPOKEN, AND HOW NOW SO SHALL I.
Seriously though, thanks for giving me an excuse to yap. As much as I am an enjoyer of fandom shipping, I am also a friendmaxxing visitorpilled individual and while I'm a strong proponent of pretty much every Baldur's Gate 3 Origin character being friends to some degree, I have my favourites, and Lae'zel, Gale, and Astarion are a trio I find particularly compelling. Maybe just because my first playthrough I exclusively travelled with them and loved their shared dialogue. So! THE DYNAMIC (as I see it.)
This is gonna be a long post. Oops.
Gale + Astarion
The one that I like equally as a romantic and platonic venture. I'm gonna be real, I tend to like these two as an actual romantic pairing- but that's irrelevant here. I've been over the lighter reasons why I think they'd be the ultimate pompous wine aunts of the group before, but there's a bit more to it than that.
Asides from shared aesthetic and literary interests, when I say I think they like each other in a surprisingly uncomplicated way despite their personal complexities, I truly do mean it that way. I feel that Gale is the type of person Astarion could truly come to cherish as a friend, once he's in a better place personally. He's startlingly authentic, giving Astarion a space to be as well, should he wish, rather than keep up his entirely charming facade- kind to others while also being... morally flexible enough to pique Astarion's interest and to avoid making him feel like he's being monitored by someone TOO well-intentioned (because I love Astarion, but he IS a bit of a bastard and will be forever, I reckon). On Gale's front, I genuinely think a part of him would feel incredibly vindicated by having a friend in Astarion- someone who would unabashedly encourage his ambitions and wilder interests (but whom I believe would still have his best interests vaguely at heart). Obviously that can take a darker turn under some scenarios- but I like to think that Astarion's playfulness and willingness to embrace his curiosity and passion about the stranger and more... reckless side of his work could be freeing to him. Like having that one friend that finally listens to you when you say "hear me out" and only intervenes if it's a TRULY bad take. Someone he can actually be mischevious with- because Gale IS a bit of a little shit himself, when he's given the freedom to be without guilt.
Gale + Lae'zel
This is the unusual friendship that I go the hardest about. I am so normal about them and what they could mean to each other. Lae'zel is incredibly dismissive of Gale initially, as she is with most of the others- but she's incredibly soft towards him by gith standards starting from the moment he demonstrates genuine respect and curiosity towards her and her people. Assessing his physical combat skills as less-than-deal shortly after meeting him, she even goes so far as to offer to *literally* train him in gith combat tactics shortly into your journey. That is not an offer I think Lae'zel makes lightly, or out of pragmatism alone. Is it because she sees him as weak? Yes. But it's also because she sees him as capable enough to become stronger, and worth training so that he is no LONGER weak. Most githyanki would not do that for another, especially one they had not met. Lae'zel is incredibly kind and giving to the others from the get-go no matter what anyone says about her "attitude"- putting her life and the code of ethics she lives by on the ropes to help a bunch of outsiders from the very start- but she is especially so to him, someone which many of her people may have outright discarded as useless.
From there, she starts to answer some of his questions. I like to think he talks to her about Faerun in turn for every question he asks- recognizing that the earth is as alien to her as she is to it. That's a good start for any friendship, really- mutual curiosity.
And then it gets stronger, as their personal struggles are revealed. The moment Lae'zel begins to waver in her faith and her dedication to Vlaakith is right around the same moment she hotly declares Mystra a fool for "demanding that Gale place all her faith in her and giving him none in return". She defends him against a literal god, declaring him capable and part of a mighty group- a stunning turn from her initial assessment. She balks at the idea of sacrificing him when she believes so firmly that it's an unnecessary waste of a skilled man. Possibly one she now considers a friend.
They are, in many ways, similar. Groomed in different senses by gods/god-like powers that only sought to milk them for all they were worth and then discard them when convenient. Manipulators of a celestial variety- the type of people who leave you with the realization that your entire life has been wasted serving them. Both of them were even wanted for their power- Laezel for her unwavering loyalty and militant prowess, Gale for his magical ability.
So, TLDR: They have, from the beginning, connected to each other via mutual understanding. They go through shocking life changes together and find solace in finding understanding in someone whose struggle initially seemed so alien to the other. From there, I feel like they'd genuinely find more casual things to bond over as Lae'zel discovers her enjoyment of Faerun and its wonders. No one would go ham over having a friend newly excited to learn about the world than Gale "could talk at length about anything" Dekarios.
Astarion + Lae'zel
This doesn't seem right at first, right? Poncey (lovingly) vampire meets unwaveringly stoic alien warrior. Except there's something ruthless and downright STURDY about Astarion that I can see Lae'zel quietly appreciating from the beginning. She can tell that he's willing to go the distance- even if they butt heads over her revulsion concerning the tadpoles and Astarion's attempts to wheedle the group into using them for their own gain. I feel like respect is shockingly easily earned for him on her front. In turn, I feel like Astarion is quite wary of her first- but honestly? He might be vaguely assuaded by the fact that Gale, arguably the most vulnerable of them all, just seemingly wanders around chatting with her intermittently without losing any limbs or being verbally abused. He also definitely clocks right off the bat in that scheming way of his that she'd be an incredibly helpful ally to have.
Except she's not easily seduced, or swayed by charm and friendly platitudes. Instead, I think the thing Lae'zel would silently begin to appreciate about him first is the subtle ways he shows interest in the world around him- his dialogue about not remembering how much colour there was in the world, and the like. As someone who's learning to love her new surroundings bit by bit, I can see her sympathizing with his newfound adoration of the daylight and outdoors he was deprived of for so long.
Later, she wholeheartedly supports Astarion's campaign to be rid of Cazador, and he even gleefully states "good for her" when she decides to turn her back on Vlaakith- so I reckon they're another check on the front of "friends bonding over overthrowing those who have been unrighteously in charge of them for so long". The circumstances are highly different, but the sentiment is shared: fuck that guy, I won't be their puppet anymore.
Finally, in the ending where Lae'zel chooses to stay on Faerun and forge her own fate exploring a new world, I can see her and Astarion working together- both enjoying their newfound freedom from cause and control and absorbing all the joys of a *functionally* new world for the both of them. With the aid of their far more local wizard friend who's less prone to the battlefield, of course. I can see them teaming up for a glorious adventure or two easily. Battle buddies, and the like.
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daz4i · 1 year
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if i may complain for a bit about something that doesn't actually matter and can be easily avoided. god i hate fics that baby-fy chuuya
#yeah yeah i know just don't read them w/e. there's no tags to avoid these unfortunately 😐#it kinda feels like a fanon of fanon. it's so far removed from his canon self even if some core elements are there.#why write him like a 15 y/o even as an adult. and the thing is. even when he was 15 in canon he wasn't this childish. c'mon.#a lot of the most popular skk fics have him characterized like this and man I'm tired. look how they massacred my boy.#ok complaining session over. i feel like i sound kinda mean. sorry abt that.#it doesn't actually matter that much just a bit frustrating when it keeps happening when you're already a couple hundred words into a fic#edit: i lied I'm not done complaining i gotta turn this into a rant bc ppl misunderstanding my favorite character online is a crime.#childish was the wrong word for me to use ig it's more like. innocent.#girl. bestie. he has been part of criminal organizations quite literally since he remembers himself.#he is not some sweet uwu baby who's a bit of a tsundere or w/e. he's got genuine reasons to be angry yknow. he's been through shit#and he's not innocent? he's in the fucking mafia lol we literally see him kill like 20 people in 5 minutes at 15 y/o.#he's not naive either???? he may not be dazai levels of smart but he's still capable of figuring things out himself????#like he did figure out rimbaud's thing by himself. he's not stupid or slow. he wouldn't be a mafia executive otherwise.#and that's also the reason he can't be naive like... he is in constant danger after all#and idk watering down all this^ for aus is boring and turning him into practically an oc but it's even worse in canonverse#or literally any au where he suffers the same amount as he does in canon. bc then what's your excuse for watering him down.#it feels like forcing him into this very clear cut mold you see in every media when he is literally. not that.#no one in bsd is honestly that's part of its charm imo. they all subvert your expectations of their character archetypes#i think this is why it's making me so angry bc it doesn't feel like just misunderstanding the character but also the whole story. in a way.#am i going too far? perhaps. i dunno. i do feel less Dirty after letting out this frustration tho.#complaining session is now officially over okay. yes. sorry. i don't mean to offend anyone sorry if i sound mean at any point.
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genshin-obsessed · 1 year
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When Someone Flirts with You! | Honkai Star Rail
Someone saw this coming and I'm very proud of you for figuring it out. Yeah, I've been getting into star rail and I thought I'd just write since I can't really think of genshin things to write right now lol this is barely edited, so have mercy <3 idk tags rn so please help me out :') ✧ Includes: Dan Heng, Welt, Sampo, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Blade ✧ Extra: Luocha and Blade might be ooc, I'm not too familiar with them as of right now. ✧ Come one, come all! See what happens when someone flirts with you in front of your men!
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Dan Heng
Dan Heng is a really private person, he’s not a fan of showing off everything. So he’s not one to flaunt you around, but it’s not hard to tell you’re both in a relationship. He’s around you like… all the time.
He’s not one to follow around like a helicopter boyfriend, but he’s got an eye on you. If he sees someone bothering you, he’s behind them in an instant.
0/10. Dan Heng’s not super scary so they could ignore him and continue flirting with you. For a moment, he’ll just stand there as he listens to some of the dumb things they’re gonna say. You two make fun of them later for it. But then he hears something along the lines of, “come on, i’ll treat you better.” he don’t like that. 
How is this creep better than him?! They couldn’t even tell you were uncomfortable. Dan Heng will usually place a hand on their shoulder and his grip gets tighter every second the creep is still in front of you. Paired with his glare…
10/10 the creep is gone. You sigh in relief and walk to Dan Heng quietly, wrapping your arms around his waist. He immediately hugs back, stroking your hair a little.
“Let’s go somewhere else. I don’t like it here anymore.” You agreed.
Welt
Well, he doesn’t hang around you 24/7, he’s a busy man. But it’s also not hard to tell you’re dating either. Welt isn’t crazy about PDA, but he’ll give you a quick kiss every now and then and often gives you hugs (per your request).
He believes you’re capable of taking care of yourself, so he’s often not paying attention. That doesn’t mean he won’t look over at you every now and then. This time, he just happened to see some creepy creep trying to creep up on you. 
“Are you ok, (y/n)?” Is the first thing he asks when he walks up to you. He will literally ignore the existence of the creep beside him. Usually what happens here is that you’ll nod and he’ll “accidentally” shove the creepy away and urge you to come talk with him and his friends. The creep is usually so confused they walk away. But sometimes- sometimes- they follow.
Welt does NOT like that. I mean it was one thing to not take the hint from your face, but then to stop you when you’re actively trying to leave?
Welt will turn around and just glare at them. Like that silent, “I will kill you” kinda glare. It’s a staring contest for a moment before the creepy creep just kinda turns away and leaves. Sometimes, Welt does have to smack them with his lil cane. Sometimes.
“Anyway, we’re over here. Would you like a drink?”
Sampo
Sampo is all over you, usually. He loves you and the world should know? Sometimes, he can go too far so just let him know. Anyway, since he’s always over you, people know you’re dating him.
Usually at parties and events, he’s hanging off your arm, but sometimes he’s gotta go talk to some of his other friends and acquaintances. He keeps an eye on you.
Here’s the thing, he’ll come up and flirt with you too but try to one up the creep. “You look fine, darling,” - the creep. “You look so beautiful, every star in the sky and the moons pale in comparison.” - Sampo.
0/10. Of course, the creep gets irritated and asks what the hell Sampo is doing. Sampo just gives him a condescending smile and says, “that’s my partner you’re talking to. I’m not gonna let you just creep up on them.” There’s… a glint in his eyes that’s unnerving. Even you can see it.
69/10. The creep runs off, making some excuse or whatever. Sampo watches them for a minute before turning to you and smiling. You rush to give him a hug and he happily returns it.
“Wanna go home? Seems like that idiot trashed your mood a little.”
Gepard
Gepard is a very shy guy and he’s not one to be all touchy-touchy without you doing it first. He gets all flustered and looks away… but he’ll lean into your touch.
He usually sticks around you, keeping your attention so no creepies come by, but sometimes he gets pulled away. He always lets you know he’ll be right back and leaves for just a few moments. Enough for a creepy to sneak in >:0
When Gepard notices the creep, he wastes no time walking over to you. “Is everything ok?” He asked, looking at you. If you shook your head, that was it. The captain of the silvermane’s came out!
The first glare is usually a 50/50. Sometimes, the creeps acted all annoyed and walk away, pretending they’re not scared but other times… they challenge him. Gepard just places a hand on their shoulder and shoves them back. It’s actually surprisingly strong- they’ll fall over sometimes.
10/10, that usually sends them running. On rare occasions there’s that ONE creepy who just stands up and tries to take him on lmao. You know to take a step back because Gepard kinda skips the arresting and just goes to ass kicking. And he’s the shy boyfriend.
“So… we should go now. Yeah, no, just leave the creep there.”
Jing Yuan
Jing Yuan isn't the most affectionate boyfriend, but he doesn’t mind letting people know you two are together. Depends on your comfort level.
He’s a busy man, so at that fancy event, he can’t always be at your side but he tries to keep you by him. Of course, you decided to go get a drink, he happily agreed. You went off and he kept greeting more officials. You didn’t return, so he looked over and he just saw you turning away from a creep who just grabbed your arm!
Jing Yuan elegantly excuses himself and basically sneaks up behind the guy. He’ll stand there which brings you tons of relief, enough to let the creep ramble and ramble and ramble. “I could take you out to dinner, (nickname you don’t like). I’ll buy you (food you don’t like).” “Actually, they don’t like that. And they don’t like being called that.” The creep jumps away and is standing beside you at that point.
5/10, honestly, some just get scared and leave. There’s the other half though that just kinda scoff and look at you. Before they can even say anything, Jing Yuan grabs them by the shirt and force them to look at him. “Do not speak to them like that. Do not look at them, and don’t even think about them. You leave now or I’ll drag you out myself.”
10/10!!!!!!!!! They are GONE. No sign of them for MILES. Jing Yuan huffs and looks down at you. At this point, everyone’s looking at you two, making you extremely uncomfortable. He’ll stand beside you and pull you close, using that half of his jacket thing to cover you.
“We can leave. I’ll deal with everything else later. Come on.”
Luocha
This man is unpredictable. Sometimes, he’s grabbing your hand to prove your dating, others are just a straight kiss. You don’t mind. Either way, the world knows you two are together.
Luocha doesn’t mind leaving you alone, he’s got confidence in himself and you. That doesn’t mean he’s not there as your backup. Creeps creep on a daily- he’s gotchu. He sees the creep and he’s already walking toward you.
“No!” You exclaimed with a frown, “I'm not interested. Leave me alone.” Luocha didn’t mind scaring the creep off… but it was when they grabbed you that kinda set him off. “Hey.” Is all he says as he grabs their wrist to shove their hand away. 3/10. SOMETIMES people do get scared off by his demeanor. But there’s always that one. Our favorite.
For those guys, he’ll just get physical. There’s just this switch that goes off when it comes to you. 10/10. They’re either gone or out like a light.
“Come, we should go somewhere else.”
Blade
Lol. First of all, people know you’re dating this dude because you’re still alive while hanging off his arm. He’s not affectionate in public other than some sweet words. “You look nice today.” “I think you did well.” Things like that.
Blade can… be a helicopter boyfriend because he just has a 6th sense for creepies. You can be doing your own thing and he’s just standing there. Menacingly. There are days where he’s away from you, but he keeps a sharp eye on you. Then he notices the creep.
“Go away.” You say with a huff as you turn away. “Stop!” You yell, trying to pull your hand away. Suddenly, the creep is silent and frozen. You probably know exactly what happened.
You feel your arm come loose and look behind you to see Blade pointing… well his blade at the creep. He doesn’t say anything and the creep can’t help but just feel the icy fear in their veins. 10/10, Blade doesn’t fail.
“Thank you.” You say with a sigh as you run and hug his arm, looking up at him. Blade sighs and looks down at you, feeling that relief in his chest knowing that you’re fine and right beside him where you should be.
“It’s because you look cute today. Let’s go somewhere else.”
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mysacredmuse · 3 months
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more about loser in love Aventurine <3 (hopefully this is more articulated, last thing I wrote was literally a 2 minute brainstorm with no coherency lol), kinda a mix of pre-relationship and loser in love bf Aventurine :3 of course, this is all lovingly and lighthearted :)
let me know if you'd like more or share your own thoughts! also, I want to write a bit about soft bf! Aventurine, biting my hands so hard not to do it here because . . . thoughts are too loud
dividers by @/cafekitsune :)
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Panics with no filter as soon as you are out of his sight. You could be walking down the street together when suddenly something catches your attention making you quickly run away from him. Aventurine will literally freeze for a moment, anxious eyes looking for you as the only thing that slips past his lips is "where are you? where did you go?" as he turns his head around hoping for the best. As he finally spots you, a huge sigh of relief leaves his body. He would scold you with such seriousness, how dare you leave him behind without a word? He isn't a babysitter to watch your every move, so try and behave!
As soon as you reply to him, explaining that you don't need a babysitter, fully capable of taking care of yourself and that he is just an overreacting drama king...he just gasps. How dare you ruin his only method of making himself seem semi-normal? Anyhow, he ignores your rationality and the fact you are not dependent on him in a way that he is on you, in the process making a new decision - as this happens...a lot, he decides to use it as an oppprtunity and a lame excuse for you to hold his hand every time you go out together.
He tries to act like it's not a big deal, but internally he is all over the place as the two of you walk holding hands. (he will get teased for this years later)
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He is also a needy for attention type of loser with no personal space who texts you all the time. When he isn't texting, he would call you anytime he can, which seems to be a lot. Even if there is nothing to have a conversation about, he is just asking the same questions...over and over again.
"so, what are you doing?"
"mhm, have you eaten?"
"how are you feeling?"
"mhm, is there anything new going on?"
"mm, sooooo, what are you doing?"
"that sounds fun! anyways, do you miss me?"
You can swear that he kicks his feet anytime you talk over the phone or text. But when you explain to him that you don't have to talk to each other all the time, he is slightly offended and sassy. What do you mean by that? Are you bored of him? Is he simply not worth your time anymore? Fine...he will stop doing it so much. . .for about 2 hours perhaps (his personal record! are you proud?) and then he will continue in his old ways.
Don't be mistaken, he does understand that you need your own time and if you put up a genuine boundary he will certainly respect it. It's just that when it's more playful and chill time, he uses it to the fullest because he is a needy man.
Bonus: Aventurine loves sending you videos that remind him of you or the two of you, especially those little cute animals videos where they cuddle, the little art videos and those adorable encouraging pics (definitely not a loser for this, just thought it was cute as hell)
Bonus 2: anytime you send him a picture of yourself, he puts it as his background. Replies "screaming crying throwing up, pls one chance pls pls pls", somehow you manage not to take it seriously which makes him even more desperately in love
Bonus 3: he saves your contact by some silly, yet cute nickname while adding 50388383 emojis and hearts (preferably the ones that are in your favorite color). He says it's a joke, but...but...well.
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Desperate, pathetic, miserable, needy, so sickly in love, he absolutely NEEDS you. He can't take it.
Once you get more comfortable with each other, not even fully in a relationship, this man clings onto you like it's his last day alive. Wrapping his arms around your forearm, playing with your fingers if you are distracted, hugging you from behind anytime you stop walking (yes, even while waiting for a green light to cross the road), throwing his thigh over yours anytime you sit somewhere together, takes any chance to lay on your lap and begs you to play with his hair. He is the type of mess up something, get on his knees and hug your legs until you forgive him. He is also the type to do that...for no reason at all actually. Simply because he wants attention and he loves being close to you.
Anytime he has to go and do something by himself, you can tell how pissy he is afterwards. He walks up to you with an evident disappointment and annoyance on his face, quickly grabbing your hand as he mutters how idiotic it is to have to use the toilet. Let's not even mention when he needs to be by himself for longer periods of time.
Speaking of that, he would also question whether you missed him or not after 2 minutes of separation. You sure did? Hm, is that sarcasm? He doesn't care, he will take it as long as it confirms it. He just wants you to miss him and need him as much he misses and needs you.
Bonus (not really a loser): Now, in a relationship, Aventurine needs you to have eyes for him only as he does for you. Only him and nobody else. He wants you to want him, he needs you to need him and he must feel the desire and love you have for him. He mentions multiple times, you can do whatever you want with him however you want, if you wish to use him as a plaything for a while - he is perfectly okay with that, but the one rule he has is to be your only plaything. His desperation comes cute in certain departments, however...there is a lot of work awaiting in order to teach this man what is a healthy relationship.
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He actually confesses his love for you properly when he gets sick. A mild cold, slight fever - should be gone in a few days, if not less. But no! He is certain that this is the end. Immediately sends you tons of panicky messages how you need to come see him immediately. So you do, first time taking him quite seriously.
Only to be met with his red stuffy nose twitching as he tries not to sneeze in the middle of his confession. He is so serious and determined that it makes a laugh stuck in your throat as he slowly explains himself, barely able to take deep breaths, not even looking at you. Talking about all the memories, the feelings, the thoughts he ever had with or about you.
"The only thing that I regret is that I am doing this too late."
He is so melodramatic, coughing loudly afterwards as he finishes up his actually heartwarming confession.
You can't help but giggle at the man in front of you, gently urging him to lay down, not exactly replying to his confession yet, but only mentioning how you will make him some soup and tea. He just nods, a bit exhausted from the all-nighter he pulled to come up with his excellent (miserable) confession. Next thing you know, he is fast asleep, hand mindlessly reaching for yours and as soon as he finds it - he brings it to his chest, almost hugging it. Moments like these are very special to you as he becomes more vulnerable and more himself. He will certainly get your own confession as soon as he gets better and least to say, you are the one to make the full first move since he is just...in shock the whole time. But, that's something to unpack some other time.
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dragon-kazansky · 23 days
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Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Six - Splendid
♡♡♡
"Eloise Bridgerton."
Benedict calls his sister when he finds her smoking on the swing set in their garden. He sounded stern, as if scolding her.
Eloise groans softly as she turns on the swing. "Go on, then." She lifts the cigarette to her lips. "Chastise me."
"Spare one for me?" He asks.
Eloise is surprised by his question. He comes and sits on the other swing beside her. She holds a cigarette out to him, and he takes it, putting it between his lips and lighting it.
"Suppose I desire something different." Eloise says.
"How do you mean?"
"Just different. I watch Daphne prepare for these balls with all of those dresses and the many suitors, and I am exhausted. Suppose I want a different life, Benedict. That I truly believe I am quite capable of something more, even when I'm not allowed to have anything else."
"Then I would say... that you're not the only one." He looks at her. They smile at each other.
♡♡♡
With the next edition of Whistledown comes fascinating gossip. You find yourself, for once, clutching the paper with the need to read more.
It has become apparent that Lord Berbrooke has a child out of wedlock, and not only that, with a maid he had sent away before the child was even born. He pays nothing for the child, it seems.
Your mother had been gossiping about with the other ladies she had over for afternoon tea. In turn, their maids had gone off to gossip further.
Word spread like wildfire.
The next day, Lord Berbrooke had left town suddenly.
You made it a point to go visit Daphne. You were taken up to the drawing room where she awaited you, a smile on her face as you came in.
"It's nice of you to visit."
You take a seat with her. "I wanted to see how you were."
"I have expected you come see my brother," she admits.
"Benedict? As much as he has become my friend, I felt the need to come see you. Are you alright?"
"I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders." She smiles softly. "I am glad he is gone."
"As am I. Wretched man, he was."
You both giggle softly.
"So, the duke? He is still on your favour?" You ask.
Daphne goes silent for a moment, and then her face twitches. A realisation. The realisation she must still pretend.
"Ah, yes." She smiles.
You smile in return and take her hand. "You make a most handsome couple."
"Thank you." Her voice wavers.
You do not bring up Hastings or Berbrooke again as you have tea with Daphne. The conversation becomes pleasant. Daphne finds herself talking to you about anything that comes to mind. Not once has any of her siblings sat down and listened to her like this.
It felt nice. Really nice.
An hour passes, and you find the teapot has been emptied twice in that time. There are no more biscuits to share either. You rise from the soft sofa and gather you purse.
"Thank you for letting me visit."
"Oh, nonsense. You are always welcome." Daphne smiles.
"I shall visit again then."
Daphne looks pleased by your words.
"Benedict will be so disappointed you came by and didn't stop to see him."
You chuckle. "Let him suffer. It may humble him."
Daphne chuckles and sees you out.
♡♡♡
The next ball is as dazzling as the others. You swear with each one, Daphne gets more and more beautiful. She enters with the Duke. Of course, everyone sees.
You entered with your mother, no one paying you any mind what so ever. Not that you minded any more. You had come to terms that no one would visit you.
As Simon and Daphne dance, you decide to take a walk. You have no idea what it is they discuss when alone together.
You keep your eyes peeled for any familiar faces. Yet, no one else is present in this current room.
Meanwhile, Daphne parts from Simon and is approached by another gentleman. Her wish to find a husband and have a family may very well come true.
As you enter the next room, you find Anthony in there talking with some others. His gaze lands on you, and he excuses himself from the current conversation. He approaches you.
You smile and bow your head. "Lord Bridgerton."
"Anthony, please. You call my brothers by their name."
You smile. "Anthony."
"Benedict isn't here, I'm afraid. He has elected to sit this one out. May I have the honour?" He holds out his hand.
You take a moment to take in his request. Anthony was head of his family. A viscount. Dancing with him would surely bring you attention.
You place your hand in his. "You may."
Anthony takes you back into the other room and leads you to the dance floor. He holds you as a gentleman should while dancing with a lady. You both move with the music.
Anthony look very firm as he dances with you.
"I must say, this is an honour."
"Is it?" He asks.
"I never see you dance."
"No. I suppose not. I am not beyond dancing with friends." He says kindly.
"Then I am even more so honoured to be considered such."
You both continue dancing until the music ends. You curtsy, he bows. Anthony takes your hand and leads you back to the side of the room. With swift ease, he marks his name down on your dance card.
"I shall see to it you are never left without a dance partner, my lady," he says with a bow.
You smile.
As Anthony returns to the party, you find yourself now being looked at by others. There are gentlemen looking your way.
Could it be true that Daphne is not the only one who can shine?
Soon, you are dancing again, and a few more names are scribbled across your dance card.
You think, perhaps, Daphne Bridgerton is your good luck charm.
It makes you giddy.
Safe to say, your night was splendid indeed.
♡♡♡
@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333
@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173
@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner
@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -
@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy -
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wildgeese98 · 4 months
Text
Many thoughts whirring in my mind about Colin and Alice's conversation at the start of the episode. Specially the issue of personifying Freddie.
Colin starts out the yelling at and talking about the system like it has sentience and is causing him problems on purpose. But as soon as Alice starts talking to it, he immediately shuts her down. It's rich of him to say they shouldn't be personifying Freddie when he was literally just doing it. Why the double standard?
I think Colin knows or suspects something about Freddy that he's is not letting on. Does he have some reason to think that Freddie may have some level of intelligence? He knows something is listening to them through the computers. It makes sense for that to be connected to Freddie. It's possible that the system is actually purposefully breaking itself and causing issues and Colin has picked up on it. Making him more likely to ascribe sentience to it, but also not want to call too much attention to it. Maybe because he knows something is listening he doesn't want to let on how much he knows or suspects about Freddie's capabilities.
Then there's his vehement refusal to involve central IT. The red tape excuse is plausible but I think Colin knows that if anyone else with any kind of expertise looked at the system they would know that something is up. I think he wants to figure out what's going on himself. He doesn't want anyone else coming in and messing with his investigation. That or he has some reason to not trust central IT that he's also keeping to himself.
Also I'm sure I'm not the only one side eyeing the .jmj error. Yeah, yeah, Jon, Martin, Jonah. Again though, that feels so, obvious. It feels like something put in specifically to catch the attention of and distract everyone who is looking for clues about the archives boys being in the computers. The question then is distract us from what?
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chastiefoul · 1 year
Text
one backward leap of courage
summary: you took a leap of courage and decided to confess your feelings... when he can’t hear you. but is that really the case??? ft. xiao, kaeya, kaveh notes: slightlyshy!reader | just a fluffy and lighthearted fic!!
xiao
your chest swelled in happiness, as you took in the sight beside you. xiao’s eyes twinkled as it reflected the blooming firework at the sky.
with much effort (and begging), he finally agreed to celebrate lantern rite with you—although calling it celebration might be a bit much, since all you did was cook him his favorite meal and asked him to watch the firework together and even that took you so much time to convince him, however you always knew somehow that xiao would cave in, he always does.
you kept staring at the man you’ve had a crush on since forever, completely neglecting the grand firework display that was currently going on, a certain emotion overwhelmed you.
“i like you, xiao.” you said without hesitation, because you were sure and confident that he would not hear you over the loud noise. you smiled at the little leap of courage you just did; perhaps someday i could say it for real. you practically had to force youself to not look at him anymore and enjoy the rest of the fireworks.
when it’s done, you noticed xiao’s face was painted with the faintest color of peach. “....me too,” he said. you looked at him blankly, “you too what?” tilting your heard questioningly. “fine, you’re going to make me say it? i like you too.”
“what?”
he peered in to your face. “why are you so surprised? didn’t you just say you liked.. me?” he said, becoming a bit unsure and definitely didn’t want to sound overconfident. your expression fell, completely mortified. “y-you heard that?” you stammered, the beat of your heart followed the same pace.
“wasn’t i suppose to? i heard you called my name very clearly.” xiao looked beyond confused. “well no! i mean, i guess yes?” you racked your brain to at least form an excuse but it proved to be difficult since it just hit you not only he heard the confession, but he actually said that he reciprocated your feelings.
“i just didn’t think you heard me,” you finally said. “you were right beside me, how could i not?” he spoke as a matter of fact.  you went quiet, processing the event that just happened. xiao stared at you, moving his hand to the side so his pinky finger grazed against yours. (that was his leap of courage move) “what’s wrong?” he asked.
“you like me too?” you blurt out, bashfulness reappeared on his face. “more than you know,” he mumbled, and you felt the jump on of your heartbeat because never you thought that the aloof yaksha had the capability of saying something like that. you covered your face with both of your hands, “sorry i’m just so happy.”
xiao chuckled, he thought you were cute (but he will not say that  out loud) as he linked his and your fingers together. “we’re the same, then.”
kaeya
a trip to kaeya’s office has never felt like an errand—although it literally is. as his right hand person, you were assigned to give the cavalry captain a daily report at the end of the day, and you were more than happy to do that. you’ve liked kaeya for over a few months now; his teasing, his smirk, his voice and his mischief demeanor. you were attracted to all of him like a crow to shiny things, however you never actually have the courage to say these things to the said person. you wanted to though, so you’ve been practicing  saying it out loud. even then the confession always felt a little clumsy, like it was not enough for a delicate feeling that meant much more. so you’ve been holding it off until you’ve gathered the courage it’s the right time.
but when you’re walking through the deserted corridor and found yourself alone, you liked to try and say it. not to anyone or for someone to hear, it’s just to convince yourself that you were able to say it out loud.
“captain, i like you! ...that sounds really awkward.” you pondered as you tried something else. “kaeya, i really like you,” you changed your tone to a softer one.
“hmm, i prefer the one where you call my name better.” a very familiar voice spoke.
“you think so too?” you responded without thinking.
there’s stillness as the realization hits. five seconds passed, ten seconds. you’re not moving even an inch and you weren’t even sure that you were breathing. you could feel your whole face burning all the way to the tip on your ears. kaeya chuckled quietly, and it made you want to run away. so you tried to. before a hand reached out to grip your arm, making your plan of escape futile.
“nuh uh, i don’t think you get to run away after that,” kaeya said, your back still facing him. “captain.. please let me go....” you pleaded comically, still embarrassed beyond belief. “and what? robbed of the chance of hearing you say that to me?” you could hear the ear-to-ear smile he must be having right now. “that’s..!” you stumbled, not really knowing what kind of excuse you could make.
“please? may i hear it again?” he said softly, turning you to face him by the shoulder gently. you decided to just rip off the band aid completely, no matter what his answer is you’re ready to hear it. “i like you, kaeya” your voice was barely audible as you reach the end of your sentence, still kaeya got that. of course he did. because those were words he’s been dreaming to hear all this time after all. he pulled your hand so you’re a step closer to him (which is still a bit far to kaeya’s preference but he’s not worried. you both will get there in no time)
a gorgeous smile on his face, like he just heard the best news of his life. “i feel the same, (y/n).”
kaveh
kaveh who’s always there for you, whose heart made out of gold. his kindness, his attentiveness; for you, it would be impossible not to like him. you both have been friends for a little over six months, but to you he’s been more than that, or at least you hoped, that he’s more than that. one of these days you told yourself that you’re gonna be brave and tell him how you feel but every conversation you had with him was just so cozy, so comfortable that you don’t want to bring it up. (you were scared out of your mind that you will ruin your friendship)
yesterday kaveh had asked you if you wanted to come and watch one of nilou’s performance, but you learnt not to get your hopes up as you were sure tighnari, cyno, and perhaps alhaitham if he was up to it would be there as well. just the usual get-together with friends. though either way, you’d never refuse good company, they’re all your good friends too after all.
however, you don’t find anyone except the blond at the prior agreed spot to meet. “where is everyone? won’t the event start any minute?” you asked kaveh and he just looked at you. “who’s everyone? did you invite someone els-“
“zubayr theater proudly present to you, nilou!” a presenter voice boomed through the crowd, as the loud music follows. you both set your gaze to the stage, the conversation abandoned. nilou’s dance was exceptionally well, as always. you sneaked a glance at the person beside you who seemed like he was enjoying it as much as you do, and somehow something that simple has brought a smile to your face. an overwhelming pleasant sensation filled your chest, “as i thought, i truly like you kaveh.”
you keep your eyes on him, not expecting anything, since the loud music would erase the trace of your confession. however that thought quickly broke when he looked at you, a stunned expression apparent on his face. kaveh heard you. and if you know anything about confessing, that is not the face of someone who would give you a good response about what you just said.
you panicked as you turned around and you squeezed through the crowd to run away.
-
“wait, (y/n)! please wait,” he panted, he has ran after you to the emptier area, the festivity could still be heard slightly. you stopped, just so that he could catch his breath. “why were you after me?”
“because you practically ran away? what was that?” he walked closer to you. “i don’t know! i just panicked. you weren’t suppose to hear that,”  you stared at your shoes. “and why?” he questioned. “well do you.. wanna hear that?” you asked timidly. “i do, as a matter of fact!” kaveh aggressively answer.
somehow the whole thing turned into your usual bickering you couldn’t help but smile a little.
“now stay put cause i have something to say too,” he said. “okay.”
“alright, here goes. i like you too, (y/n), i always have,” he finally said, a slight blush covered his cheeks and he looked especially pretty you couldn’t help but stare. it hasn’t sunk in the fact that the man you have always liked share the same feelings. “but why did you look like someone just run over your architectural model?” you asked.
“that was only because i planned to confess to you i got all of it ready you know? where to walk you with and then i’d surprise you with a dinner. and i just couldn’t believe that you’d actually beat me to it.” he rubbed his neck, feeling a bit bashful.
happiness basked over you, your heart squeezes in the nicest way possible.
“well, can we still make it to that dinner?”
kaveh smiled, offering a hand for you to take. “sure can, we better hurry then.” the warmth from his hand made you giddy, you had a silent thought that even if this place was further away than you’d anticipated, you’d be more than okay with that. 
------
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routine vibe check: what’s the best starter pokemon and why are you right (pictures and long paragraphs of evidence welcomed and appreciated)
Gonna get a good grade in vibe check, normal to want and inevitable to achieve because I have objectively correct Pokemon opinions and will block naysayers
OKAY LET'S GO
I decided to do, like, a top 5 list or something, because I'm bad at picking a single favourite of stuff. And then even that overwhelmed me, so I found one of those tier ranking list sites and produced this:
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It was done in less than a minute, so if I wanted to get really picky, I don't know if I would be fully wedded to it (not sure if maybe Sceptile should be one higher) BUT it did help to highlight the important ones.
So!
5. Bulbasaur
It's. Just. So. Nice.
Like you can find cooler, more beautiful, cuter, fancier... there's a whole bunch of ways for a Pokemon to be great. But you will never ever find a nicer Pokemon than Bulbasaur. It's so lovely. Look at it. Look at its face.
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I can't put it higher, because the rest of the line is fairly bland in terms of development. It's good and logical and fun, don't get me wrong, but Ivysaur and Venusaur just look like bigger versions with More Flower and Less Cute rather than creatures in their own right. To be honest, if it weren't a starter requiring a three-stage evolution, you could do away with Ivysaur. Something I don't like about a lot of lazy three-step lines is that the middle step just looks like a transitional mid phase rather than a Proper Creacher, like they were artificially inflating the Pokemon number count. Meanwhile it took us until Paldea to get a Girafarig evo that would actually make the giraffe tall. Madness.
However my first ever Pokemon was a Bulbasaur I called Daffodil, and I have traded him forward onto every single successive generation since. He is, quite literally, my First Ever Pokemon. I love him desperately. I still have him. Not many people still have their First Ever Pokemon. But I do and I love him. So, Bulbasaur gets the fifth spot.
4. Snivy
Again, a victim of the Banal Transitional Middle Evo, but both Snivy and Serperior are incredible, and as Meatloaf took such pains to tell us, two out of three ain't bad.
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But Snivy! It's so snooty! I was super lucky with mine, too, because I beat the 12.8% odds and got a female, and I loved her. Normally the initial baby starters are designed to be cute but Snivy has SO MUCH PERSONALITY, she's great. And the design of Serperior is utterly gorgeous. She keeps the expression, but rather than the Animal Crossing-style snooty-cute vibe of Snivy you get this thousand yard withering stare of an empress whose servant (you) has just turned up dripping mud in her throne room and asked her for money. Her green and gold colour scheme is exquisite. Her filigree design, including her high collar, give off the air of wealth and sophistication befitting her immaculate pedigree. And all this! In a simple snake. Incredible design work, 10 out of 10, no notes.
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Begone, you miserable peasant. Have him boiled.
3. Torchic
Now I'll be real with you, lads, but Pokemon design hit its stride with Hoenn and then got better.
It's partly a fashion thing, of course - you look at some of the Kanto designs and they are remarkably 90s, because that's when the franchise launched. Others are clearly a product of what the 1990's were capable of producing in pixels on an already over-stretched cartridge medium. Like we like to clown on Red and Green/Blue now, but my god, those game designers performed a miracle with Pokemon. Every single square inch of space was used to make that game, and complex designs weren't going to cut it.
(With that said, there is still no excuse for Dragonite.)
And then Johto came about and its Pokedex sucks ass. It's mostly new evolutions for existing Kanto stars, useless babies to inflate the dex number, or poorly thought out single-evos like the inexplicably short Girafarig and the unacceptably dreary Dunsparce (our greatest thanks to Paldea for fixing both of those).
BUT THEN CAME HOENN (trumpets intensify)
And we get habitats! Biomes! A different regional climate, gifting us a brand new area of Pokecology! And therefore a brand new flush of creativity in Pokemon design across the board; less dated, and more inclined to be unique rather than a rehash of Kantonian stuff.
Which brings me nicely to this lad:
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Now, I mean. Just look at him. Fucking hell. Cute starter stage, check. LOOK AT HIM FACE
AND THEN he became, at the time, a brand-new unique typing: Fire/Fighting. I realise that is now the norm for like, half of the Fire starters, but that's because of Torchic, actually. He was super popular. In fact if you ever play Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald and you do what my husband and I like to call a Mynci Dave run (use one Pokemon almost exclusively, meaning it gets all the experience points and therefore over-levels to a terrifying degree, allowing you to sweep the game; so named after the noble Primeape we first did this with, Mynci Dave), Torchic is the PERFECT Pokemon to choose, because almost everything is weak to either Fire or Fighting in that region.
Anyway, Combusken is, again, kind of mid (although props for the inverted colour scheme and the fact that it actually does look like a teenager.) But Blaziken, on the other hand... Blaziken is a six foot ninja chicken with wings for hair whose Pokedex entry describes it as able to leap tall peaks in a single bound, a feat it achieves after strengthening its legs by hoofing Geodudes down mountains like they're fucking footballs
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Also an impressive bulge.
My first was called Gilgamesh, and he was fucking great. For a long time, this mad lad was my actual favourite Pokemon, not just starter. Brilliant. Love him. Five stars out of three. King.
2. Fuecoco
It would probably surprise you to know I've not actually used one. I chose Sprigatito, and I do really like Meowscarada, actually. But pretty anthro cat boys have been done in Pokemon quite a bit at this point; cats, dogs and rabbits are over-represented in terms of Poke-taxa. Possibly this is another reason for a toad, a snake and a chicken being 5, 4 and 3 so far (ooh, basilisk ingredients, I've just realised.) They're new and unusual! I like an Eeveelution as much as the next person, but they're a whole family of cat-dog-rabbits, like.
However.
Nintendo has tried its hand at Pokecrocodilians three times (Feraligatr, Krookodile, Skeledirge), and they have gotten so much better at design each time that the three of them are basically a scale proxy for ongoing design improvement. Look, I've made a diagram:
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EXCEPT
(Strap in)
This one is that rare thing: a three step line that deserves to be a three step line. Let's talk Fuecoco first:
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SO CUTE. It's charming, it's charismatic, it's adorable.
It also has hints of its evolutionary end goal, but not like an undeveloped middle evo. It likes singing. The white face hints at the eventual calavera, and it looks a bit like a lil chilli pepper - a ghost pepper, probably in reference to the eventual Fire/Ghost typing. But the colours and shape right now also look a bit reminiscent of a babygro, because this thing is a cute starter. Lookit them teefs. That tuft. Its lovely smile. Beautiful.
And then, at the point you expect it to turn into just the awkward teenage version of the adult, instead we get Crocator:
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Oh boy. Oh there's so much to say. Okay okay:
The region it's from is based on Spain, but this thing is incorporating Hispanic elements from across the board. It's a mariachi in a sombrero, except the sombrero also looks kind of like a ring of Mexican marigolds and kind of like a Catalonian Easter cake called Mona de Pascua that has an egg (or egg-shaped confectionary) in the middle. Body shape and markings look kind of like a piñata. The white face is now on its way to a calavera, with the cheek and nostril markings more defined. And it sings, with its open mouth (also how crocodiles release heat, appropriate for a Fire type) and signified by the mariachi theme.
THAT IS A LOT.
And then it becomes Skeledirge. A Fire/Ghost crocodile.
Now the obvious design here is the calavera and the  Día de Muertos theming, which is part of it. But there are also many examples of crocodile figures in Spanish folkloric ghost stories: the Catalonian Cocollona, the Lizard of Magdalena from Jaén, or the Drac de Na Coca, or even the Cuca - that one is Portuguese, but turns up in both Brasil and the Iberian Peninsula including in parts of Spain. It's got a Gaudi vibe (like Barcelona). It's got an alebrije vibe (like Mexico).
And the bird! Nile crocs have a cleaning symbiosis with Egyptian plovers; it also sits at the tip of the snout where male gharials have a sort of bulbous bit to help them make sounds (the singing thing).
But this is what the bird does when Skeledirge uses Torch Song:
youtube
It becomes a microphone, then grows in size and attacks the opponent in Phoenix form. Phoenix: Fire/Ghost. Resurrected from the ashes.
Quite simply, your fave could never.
5. Rowlet
My god. (My god)
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gasp
Look at this lovely creacher. He is so round and so soft and so lovely. He looks like that baby Yoda meme. He looks like that cat that someone's landlord said they would make an exception for because he looks very polite. Look!!! At his lil bow tie!!! He is a smartly dressed young man and he is kind and he is... well, a bit vacant behind the eyes. A himbo, if you will. But he is all the better for that. What a lovely owl.
He looks a little like a barn owl, perhaps, and those were imported to Hawai'i, where Rowlet is from. But I think he looks a little like a Pueo owl, and given that he will eventually be a Ghost type, that seems right - pueos are one of the physical forms assumed by ʻaumākua in Hawai'ian culture, as I understand it.
And then, hang onto your tits, lads, because this is another banger - THE MIDDLE EVOLUTION IS ITS OWN DESIGN!!! (confetti cannons)
I said earlier that boring middle evos are like just awkward teenagers of the adults. Here, I present to you, a very deliberate Awkward Teenager, in Dartrix:
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IT'S A DANDY
I love him I love him I love him
He plays with his fringe and if you touch it without permission he has a tantrum. God, he's so charismatic. Also, that fringe further suggests the pueo - they have pronounced outer rims around their facial disks like that. Look at his bow tie and tail coat. So smart and handsome
This one is so good that it could be the final evo. This is actually my issue with the Delphox line - Braixen is amazing, and then it becomes the bland boredom of Delphox. Braixen should have been the final stop. Here, Dartrix is much the same - good enough to be a high-quality end goal.
Where they differ is that Decidueye is better again.
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IT SHOOTS ARROWS MADE OF ITS OWN QUILLS
Also, fun fact - This line is the only starter to change secondary typing. Dartrix is part Flying; but on evolving a second time into Decidueye, it switches to Grass/Ghost. In this evolution, it's definitely mostly a pueo, so the ʻaumākua reference is IN, but actually barn owls also have their associations with the dead in various cultures.
The crown of feathers around its head are also reminiscent of an ayaigasa - a hat worn by Japanese samurai archers. And yet! AND YET!
It still has its lil bow tie look. Bigger now, more of a cravat; but there it is.
A perfect Pokemon, and a perfect evolutionary line. No notes.
Anyway, thank you for this chance to waste three and a half hours writing this essay
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kimsmuse · 3 months
Text
yandere coworker !!
i don't remember who i got the idea about this from but i just thought of someone who wasn't like too older to the reader yet in a powerful and manipulative position.
also i wrote this back in july lolol someone give me back my ability to write or else i'm doomer completely
this is very very rough but it’s hard to say if i’ll ever write this whole thing, but let’s talk about something.
no warnings except typical yandere content, mentions of drugging and manipulation. don't ask me the word count but this is just a short thing that just popped into my head at one point.
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yandere coworker, who’s in love with as soon as you stepped in the office as a new recruit but love at first sight is cheesy, so he dismissed it as some casual admiration. but when his boss calls him to his office and asks him to teach you the ropes of the job, he’s internally screaming on how something like this is literally a sign from god himself.
and he talks to you, jokes around because he can see you’re nervous but there’s no need to be nervous, darling. (it’s all in fun and games that he’s calling you that, obviously) because you’re more than capable of doing it, it’s not a very hard job and even if you do mess up, there’s no reason to worry because he’s one of the seniors here, and he’s going to excuse it no matter how bad it is. (doesn’t tell you the whole part, just that he’d manage if you made a mistake. it’s okay, darling. everybody makes mistakes, even he did)
yandere coworker who is more than thrilled to find out you’re great at your job!!! (kinda disappointed tbh that he doesn’t get to coo over you making a mistake and then using it to get an upper hand 😔 but it’s okay there’s going to be plenty of opportunities he’s sure of it)
he takes you out to dinner for doing such a great job!! you’re truly one of the most efficient workers in the office and this, in just under a month! isn’t that wonderful? his darling is so intelligent! but as you talk to him over dinner, it opens a side of an informal relationship with your coworker, you both have inside jokes that you can remind each other of, even during the weekend and which gradually turns into hang outs with just the two of you and you insist on the fact that you both are “just friends” to your own friends, who obviously don’t buy it. but you feel guilty about it because your coworker has been nothing but nice and respectful and maintained his boundaries with you, he doesn’t even feel that way about you!
the turn of events come in the form of a new guy, an intern that you’re required to train and you’re more than happy to because it’s something that your coworkers didn’t get an opportunity on, even with their years of working with the company and you landed in about 6 months. ofcourse it’s your hard work but it’s also something our yandere coworker helped in, put in a good word about you. made sure you got the job and the increase in pay that came with it.
but god, oh god, how he wishes so bad that he’d thought it through as he walks around the office (instead of sitting in his comfy cabin. oh, the things jealousy makes you do) in the echoes of your laughter as the intern makes you laugh. what did he say that was so funny? and why weren’t you working? did you lose your professionalism for this guy? this guy who hadn’t even been here for a day? pathetic. he did not expect his darling to do that.
after about 3-4 days, he can’t physically take it anymore, he has to do something about it. now he knows he can’t say anything to the intern or else he’ll get scared or something. so he calls you in his cabin.
“all the other staff is complaining about your and the intern's disturbance, my dear, please keep it low. and maintain professionalism, okay?” you nod your head. he had never talked to you like this before and it took you a little back that the people you called friends had been backbitching about you? because you had been nothing but nice to everyone around. but you nodded, you thought you might have been stepping over the line. but what you didn’t know is that none of the coworkers had even noticed, they were doing their own job, so tangled up in their stress and why would they rat out one of their own?
you minimise contact with the intern as soon as he knows what to do and keep it to a subtle wave for a “hi,” and “goodnight,” he notices but he thinks that you were being nice to him in the initial days as a way of welcome and he’d heard so many horror stories about coworkers not being nice to each other that the fact that you weren’t at least bullying him made him thankful.
your office friends try and invite you to dinners and karaoke afterwards but you just can’t bring yourself to go because you were already so reserved and closed off but then you find that the people you actually trusted had been complaining about you made it difficult to pretend that it was all okay. because it had been just them for you as friends, since you spent majority of your time with them.
so nowadays it was just walking home early, ordering some food, watching something and then heading to sleep. which was perfectly alright for you, you didn’t need the hangovers that came with drinking on weekdays. and on the weekends.... it got hard but there was music, there were books to read, it kept you busy.
that’s when he texted you.
your yandere coworker was around your flat, could he come over.......? his formal and passive aggressive tone still repeated in your mind, but it wasn’t his fault. he had to do his job. so you gave him a green signal. “yes, sure,” and deep down you’d been craving company so much.
when while talking how he mentions how he doesn't have an instagram account yet, (and he needs one to stalk you btw) you just laughed and he made a joke on his age, it wasn't his fault he was not up with the trends. you offered to help him set it up and show him the ropes. and as you do that, set up a username, find some accounts of interest that he might like, he finds your adorable features all focused so cute!! and you're doing it for him so he gets up and decides to get you something to eat from the shop downstairs!!
but, um, this was really careless on the yanderes part because. how the fuck do you leave your phone w someone else? and when you have an entire album full of photos of that someone else which aren't even taken from the ones you've posted but its a photo of you from one of your work gatherings which you don't even remember this guy attending! and so many photos from the same angle after that, from his cabin to your cubicle...
being a boomer really sucks because this would not be a problem for me i know of a thing called a secure folder so !!! <3
but yes, back to it, when he rings the bell, you panic, you can't not open the door, right? and even if he had been clicking those pictures or whatever, he hadn't proved harmless yet. and what if its just a crush he's clicking pictures of. sometimes people did that. it was normal, wasn’t it?
the yandere might be delusional but you give him a run for his money if your job was having delusions !!!
but as soon as he goes home that night and looks at the tabs opened on his phone (he‘s not that much of a boomer that he won‘t know what recent tabs are) he's scared and when he connects the dots to your offputting but not so much that he would actually suspect it behaviour. it made sense. he sat down for a bit - beating up his table and running his hands through his hair, how could he have been so careless?
he realizes with a sigh that he needs to work quickly now, if he ever wants to have a chance with you. it's now or never. and yandere coworker is anything but someone who backs down from a challenge.
so what he's going to do is simple, he's going to invite you over, preferably in the next 2-3 days to try out this new recipe, and he's gonna knock you out then, (he's sorry it has to be that way) and as for the rest he's quite confident he can make you fall in love with him quite easily!
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thevalleyisjolly · 1 year
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There’s a weird recurring take in D20 fan circles that Zac doesn’t play “complex” characters and that people are just waiting for the day when he “finally” plays an asshole, which kind of baffles me.  Quite apart from the idea that only morally grey characters are complex or compelling, are you sure we’re watching the same show?
In Fantasy High, we have Gorgug, an adopted biracial teenager whose journey includes realizing his self-worth, coming to terms with his rage (literally), seeking out and navigating new relationships with others (his birth parents, the Bad Kids, Zelda), and discovering what he’s capable of. 
From The Unsleeping City we have Ricky, a second-generation Japanese-American, who has a very personal struggle across two seasons between doing the dutiful/sacrificial thing for other people’s benefit and expressing his own needs, wants, thoughts, and feelings; it’s a very particular exploration of immigrant generations and the relationship between the sacrificial model of your ancestors and the culture you grew up surrounded by which emphasizes the self.
There’s A Crown of Candy and Lapin, whose snark and one-liners are honestly less interesting than the way he engaged with and sought to understand religion and faith; the different yet similar ways in which both the Sugar Plum Fairy and the Church exerted control over their followers, and the search for spiritual meaning beyond these figures/institutions.
Then there’s Cumulous, whose every character aspect navigates a space of tension - the ultimate war guy who made himself hardened (literally) and pragmatic to get the job done but who also remains soft and caring and empathetic at the same time; wielding the power of death without glorifying or giving into it; the cousin who both is a member of the family and yet who remains at somewhat of a distance from the centre; a literal warrior-philosopher who is single-minded in battle and quietly thoughtful about the mysteries of life and death outside of it.
As for actual assholes, we have Norman Takamori in A Starstruck Odyssey, a bitter man who is the living embodiment of both the Superior Orders excuse as well as scapegoating.  On a side note, the amount of absolute vitriol and double standards which people threw at Norman during ASO for being an unapologetic asshole -and he had less than two full episodes of screen time- kind of underscores the calls for Zac to play a “real” asshole.  Zac can and will play whatever type of character he wants, but is fandom really ready for him to play an asshole if that asshole doesn’t have a secret heart of gold?
From the same season, we have Valdrinor/Skip, who starts as the “prince running from his destiny” archetype with a dash of brain slug possession, has a humorous yet oddly profound exploration of what humanity is and what it means to be human, and springboards from there into “wait, who am I really and actually, why are we doing things (brain slug possession) this way when there are other ways to engage with the universe.” 
Most recently in Neverafter, we have Pib, who apart from the fascinating meta element of being a literal character archetype, constantly straddles the line between self-absorbed self-interest and putting himself on the line to help others; his repeated demonstration of both at various points throughout the season is a subtle yet intriguing manifestation of free will and choice-making in a story all about lacking free will and agency.
So, I mean, lack of complexity where?  Does a character need to be an asshole in order to be deep or compelling?  And because I’ve heard this specific rebuttal quite a few times now, does a character need to vocalize their innermost thoughts loudly and frequently in order to prove their complexity?  If a character is “less vocal” compared to other characters, does that mean they lack interiority? 
Also, other people have brought this up before, but I am once again asking that people remember the difference between fictional characters and real life people.  Zac playing one (1) himbo on the show does not make him a himbo in real life, nor does it make him incapable of creating or playing complex characters (especially as said himbo is himself an extremely complex character), nor does it make him a lesser player than other cast members.  You don’t have to find all or any of his characters interesting or complex, but can we stop conflating character with player?
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soullumii · 11 months
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masked up | joel miller x f!reader
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pairing: joel miller x fem!afab!reader
summary: joel fucks you while wearing his gas mask
warnings/tags: 18+ content MDNI, very self indulgent smut (unprotected piv oops, mask kink 🤭, vaginal fingering, riding joel cowgirl because that is for sure his fav position, little bit of a bulge kink, oral [m receiving]) descriptions of blood and violence, established relationship (married!! whoop whoop!!), making joel call you “my wife” because i’m weak for that shit, soft!joel, protective!joel, this got sappy, pet names galore as usual, NO USE OF Y/N
word count: 4.2k
a/n: i can’t explain how i feel about joel wearing a gas mask. i swear every time he put it on while i was playing tlou pt 1 i moaned /hj. just HEAR ME OUT PLEEK. JUST WATCH THIS (it’s a tiktok edit) OK YOULL UNDERSTAND.
You don’t mean for the mask to become a thing.
But it does. It becomes a Thing™.
It all starts and ends with Joel, like good and bad things usually do. And this thing is no exception.
But it all begins with something bad.
Coming across spores nowadays is few and far between for you. You're not usually on patrol much, your job being to tend to the crops in the greenhouse and feed the livestock. 
Today, though, you’re not so lucky. With Tommy out sick, you’re filling in for him. Thankfully, though, you’re paired with Joel, your very lovely and very experienced in the art of dealing with infected, husband. So you know if you come across spores, your husband will have your back. 
Spores are annoying, but they're manageable with gas masks. When you and Joel enter an abandoned office building on a new patrol route and you catch sight of the little specks floating through the air, you immediately put yours on, Joel doing just the same. 
The floaty fungal fuckers themselves aren't scary, especially not when you have the gas masks to keep you safe. It's just what waits in the shadows that scares you, because where there are spores, there's infected. Lots of them. 
And usually interspersed in that conglomerate of stalkers and clickers are the big, meaty ones. The kind that have been sitting and festering for years. The kind that could literally rip you into pieces, regardless if you have a gas mask on or not. Bloaters, yeah, those big shits. The fucking bane of your existence.
Unfortunately, the one lazing around in this abandoned office building must somehow pick up on your undying hate for them because within minutes of you and Joel looting the place for all it’s worth, it comes clambering out of what used to be a conference room.
It's a big one. Noticeably disgusting, outrageously hideous, growling and slobbering as it slings mycotoxin at you. It's not very fast, and yet it's so fucking terrifying as it lumbers after you, because you know exactly what it’s capable of. 
You're shooting at it with whatever arrows you have left in your backpack (though they’re mostly just bouncing off it’s thick fungal exterior), and Joel's crunching out shot after shot with his shotgun, but neither of you are hardly making a dent.
God, you wish Joel had brought the flamethrower he keeps in his storage room. You’d make a Molotov cocktail, but with the other infected hot on your heels, there's no time. 
A stalker comes crawling out of the shadows behind you, knocking over an office chair in the process, and you whip around to lodge an arrow right between its eyes. Two more come swinging out of nowhere, and you're so focused on trying to get rid of them so that they can't reach you—can't reach Joel—that you don't realize you've left your back unattended until a large, gross excuse for a hand lands hard on your shoulder, lugging you backwards with inhuman strength. 
Joel shouts your name with increased panic, and you hear his gun fire off more rounds into the bloater's back, but it doesn't care, it's hands finding your head and jaw, gripping you so tight you think it might shatter your mandible.
"Joel!" You scream, eyes squeezing shut as the pain in your jaw multiplies.
This motherfucker is about to rip you clean in half—
You think this is it, I'm about to die in front of my husband by being torn from the jaw down, but, thankfully, death never comes. Instead, the bloater releases you with a pained roar as the sound of squelching fills your ears. You manage to back away enough to watch Joel tug the bloater off of you by the handle of his machete, the blade lodged in its chest. 
He pulls the machete out only to swing it down in an arc straight into its head, repeatedly. Blood splatters all over him as he bludgeons the wretched thing. Over his veiny arms, his black mask. It sinks into the fabric of his flannel.
And funnily enough, this is when it becomes a thing.
The bloater crumples to the floor with a gurgling groan as it finally dies, and Joel turns to you, chest heaving and eyes wide and panicked. They soften, relieved when he catches sight of you physically intact, though, mentally a bit checked out.
Whether that’s because you’re in shock or because your brain is rewiring as it files this new image of Joel away, who knows? Maybe it's a little bit of both. 
“Are you okay?" Joel asks, sheathing his machete to look you over. His hands catch your jaw gently, a welcome contrast to the bloater. He turns it this way and that, checking for any damage or possible bites.
A traitorous thrumming starts up between your thighs as he stares you down through the lenses of his mask. 
"I'm fine, Joel," you say, breathlessly. "Thanks."
“Thank god,” he squeezes your arm lovingly, grateful to see you in one piece. “Let’s get outta here.”
- - -
"Do you like the masks?" You ask him eventually, when you're back outside, the setting sun warming you pleasantly as the tall borders of Jackson rise in the distance.
You both took the masks off the minute you escaped the spores, but a part of you secretly hoped Joel would keep his on.
Joel scratches at his graying beard. "They keep us safe. Don't feel much for 'em at all really." He glances sidelong at you, a curious quirk to his lips. "Why?"
You shrug, "No reason."
Just trying to figure out if you'd wear it during sex if I asked you to, that's all.
“Alright, somethin's up," Joel says. "You've got the look.” 
“What look?” 
“The sex look.” 
You halt in your hike, turning to narrow your eyes at him. “What the hell are you talking about?” 
Joel fails to stifle a chuckle. “You’re horny. That’s the face you make when you want to have sex. Like you wanna eat me alive.” 
Shit. He’s found you out.
“How would you know?”
He blinks. “Honey, I’m married to ya. Of course I’m gonna know.”
Valid. Still-
"I’m not horny," you try to defend, though you've never been good at lying, and based on the self satisfied smile Joel wears, you know he sees right through you. "We almost died, Joel. Maybe this is my 'loving every minute of my life' look."
"I know that look. This ain't it."
Jesus Christ.
You sigh heavily. “Okay, yes. Maybe I am a little horny.” 
"Because…what? We almost died? That gets you goin'?" 
"No," you grit. You can’t even look at him when you say it. “It’s the mask.”
His brows knit. “The...gas mask?”
You nod tightly. 
“I don’t think I’m followin’,” Joel says. 
Is he seriously asking you to spell it out for him?
You take a deep, steadying breath. You don’t quite know how to phrase this, so you just go for it. “Watching you save my life in the gas mask just sort of woke something up in me. It was hot.” 
“Oh.”
Yup. He definitely thinks you’re crazy.
“So, what, you want me to fuck you while wearin' the mask or somethin’?”
Heat pools heavy and thick between your thighs at his words, your heart hammering behind your ribs. “Something like that, yeah.” 
Joel straightens. “...Okay. I can do that.” 
Your head whips up. “Wait, seriously?”
“You’re my wife. If you asked me to fuck you with a damn jester’s hat on I’d do it.” 
You laugh. “Okay, let’s not go that far.”
“I’d really do it for you.”
“It sounds like you actually want to wear it.”
He chuckles, and you two resume walking back to Jackson. “Alright, so, gas mask on tonight,” he says. “Any other requests?” 
“Since you’re asking…maybe you could wear a cowboy hat sometime…”
- - -
"Jesus, you're really lovin' this," Joel muses.
You're laid out beneath him in your shared bed, his long calloused fingers deep in your cunt, his thumb circling slowly over your clit, drawing out your pleasure, stretching it like taffy. Your jeans are still on, unbuttoned and unzipped, and your soiled underwear is pulled to the side as Joel’s hands unwind you. 
You're grasping onto his muscled forearm for dear life, moans leaking out of you in a steady stream as he fucks his fingers into you, curling up to stroke that spot that has you clenching down hard on his digits as the burning starts in your toes, climbing up your thighs. 
He looks so fucking good with that mask situated over his handsome face, his peppered hair flipping out over the straps that keep it snug on him. His eyes are dark through the lenses as they watch you unravel before him, almost black from how dilated his pupils are.
His jeans are still on, his erection straining hard against his zipper. The flannel he wore earlier is gone, giving you the perfect view of his toned chest and the dark hair that dusts it. There's still some blood stains on his mask. Every time you catch sight of them, your body ignites with something carnal and hungry.
"’Cause, you look hot," you huff between moans. 
Joel laughs, deep and rumbling, and the mask warbles it a bit, adding a distortion to his voice that for some reason makes everything happening so much hotter. “I still don’t really get it, but if it’s makin’ you this wet, I don’t care.”
You moan particularly loud at the sound of his voice muffled through the mask and cant your hips against his hand, the combination of his thumb circling your clit and his fingers fucking up into you has you dangling dangerously close to the edge.
“I-I’m close, Joel.”
His brows furrow behind his mask, and he quirks his fingers inside you even more, and you jolt against his hand. 
“C’mon then, baby. Come for me. Show me how much this pretty pussy loves this mask.”
Fucking shit. When you first met Joel, he hardly spoke a single word, and even when you got him to open up more, he was thoughtful with what he said, chose his words carefully. Unless he was angry, then he could be a bit of an ass.
In bed though? Shit, if you can get him to shut up it’s a damn miracle.
“F-fuck, Joel,” you whine, legs stiffening as your orgasm swells inside you, a match striking, lighting up your viscera as pleasure fast-releases inside your veins. 
“There you go baby, that’s it,” Joel purrs. “So pretty when you come.”
You inhale shakily as the last few shocks fizzle through you, your clit throbbing as you come down from your high.
“Fuck…” you huff, trying to catch your breath.
He strokes your thigh lovingly, and if you could see him behind the mask you’d assume he’s probably wearing that soft smile that he gets sometimes that melts you into a puddle of mushy gushy feelings.
Joel leans back on his knees. “Now it’s time to deliver on that promise,” he says, and your skin tingles at the sound of his zipper. 
“Wait,” you tell him, and he stops, looking at you in concern.
“Somethin’ wrong?”
“No I just…I wanna show you how much this means to me.”
“Me wearin’ this mask? It’s not a big deal-“
You sit up and plant your hands on his chest, pushing him down until his back hits the mattress, effectively shutting him up.
You swing your leg over him, situating yourself right on his lap and peel off your tank, delighting in the way his eyes widen and his hands come down to settle warmly on your thighs. 
The muscles in his arms shift as he squeezes your flesh. The drag of the crotch of his jeans against yours has you biting your lip, a zing of pleasure shooting through you.
Joel’s eyes have darkened behind his mask, his pupils swallowing his irises whole besides the thin circle of hazel remaining at the edges as he watches you.
“I’ve never hated jeans more than I do right now,” he says lowly, his gaze dropping to the rapid rise and fall of your chest.
His strong hands slide up from your thighs to your hips to your waist, his dry, calloused skin causing goosebumps to rise in their wake. Finally, his palms cup your breasts, unrestrained by a bra because they’re too hard to come by in this day and age. 
He squeezes gently, and your nipples tighten beneath his palms. And then he rolls one between his thumb and forefinger, and your back arches, pressing you further into him. Your hips grind down automatically, and Joel releases a hazy moan. 
“Maybe,” you gasp when you roll your hips again, reveling in the delicious friction against your clit. “You should take them off.”
“Yours first.”
You don’t press him on it. You want your jeans off. So you lift yourself off of him and the bed to tug at your zipper, and Joel watches raptly as you pull your skinny jeans down your thighs, kicking them off your ankles.
And then you’re only in your underwear, and you throw your legs astride him again, the cloth of your underwear catching deliciously on the tent in his jeans. Joel’s hands find your body immediately, like a sweet tooth to a chocolate bar. His fingers dig into your flesh, and he grips your thighs, pulling them apart to set you on him fully. A shudder wracks your spine at the feeling of him pressed against your throbbing core.
“Goddamn,” he growls, eyes roving over you hungrily. “So fuckin’ perfect.”
You grind down on the hard outline of his cock, and Joel can’t help his reflexive thrust into you, and you sigh. 
“I need you in me, Joel,” you whisper, leaning forward to plant your hands on his broad chest, your fingers messing with the hair dusting his sternum. “Need your cock filling me up.”
“Christ,” he swears, eyes falling shut as he bucks again. “Need’a be in you, sweetheart.”
His hands find your hips and then your ass, squeezing the muscle cultivated there from twenty years of surviving in an apocalyptic world. 
His fingers dip beneath the waistband of your panties, warm and confident. He lightly rakes his fingernails over your skin, running his calloused fingertips reverently over the stretch marks on your hips. 
“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispers through the mask. “Wish I could kiss you.” 
You shiver and your arms loop around his neck. His back is scarred beneath your hands, and you rub gently into the muscle of his traps, causing Joel to release a groan. 
His hand gravitates from your hips to the apex of your thighs, and your breath catches in your throat at the warmth radiating from his fingers when he positions them just below where you want him most.
He circles your clit again, smooth pleasure seeping through your nerve endings and your head falls back in a relaxed moan. You grind against the hard outline of his cock and the pads of his fingers against your clit, each slow drag of your hips causing pleasure to fizzle through you, like a flavored tab in a glass of water.
Your hands travel down his chest and stomach, outlining the thick, jagged scar there. Over his dark happy trail that starts just above his belly button and leads down to what your body is desperately craving. A little treasure map. 
You deftly undo the button and zipper and Joel makes a wrecked noise in the back of his throat when your hand brushes the hard outline of him through his briefs. 
“Wanna show you how much I like you in the mask,” you purr as you palm him. “How hot it gets me.” 
“Fuck,” his head falls back when you tug him out of his briefs, stroking his thick length to full mast. “Please, baby.”
You inch yourself down his legs so that you’re face to face with his weeping cock. Joel’s eyes widen and his hand comes up to gently stroke your hair appreciatively, tucking a lock of it behind your ear. He looks at you with adoration, and your heart swells in your chest.
“I love you, y’know that?” He says, softly. 
You can’t help but get a bit misty-eyed, always a fan of Joel when he gets soft like this. “I love you, too.” 
He smiles, and glances down at his dick, maneuvering it so that the head skates across your lips, leaving a trail of precum. His heated eyes find yours again. “Go on and show me then.”
“Yes sir.”
You keep eye contact as you lean forward to give his cock little kitten licks, and his head drops against the pillow with a groan, eyes lidded. “Shit, you can’t be lookin’ at me like that.”
You just smirk, and lick a long stripe up a prominent vein and kiss the tip of his cock sweetly before slowly taking him into your mouth. You take in as much as you can (which isn’t much, he’s pretty fucking big), and your hands find whatever you can’t fit.
You start sucking him in earnest, pressing the flat of your tongue against the ridge of his cock, delighting in the way the hand that had softly petted your hair before is now gripping it tight when you tongue that sensitive spot that always gets him reeling.
“That’s it, honey,” he groans, his hips twitching with tiny little thrusts as he tries to hold himself back. “Just like that.”
You moan against his cock, which has him bucking up reflexively, shoving his dick further into your warm mouth. Your throat spasms around the head of his cock when it hits the back of it, gagging lightly and tears forming at the edges of your eyes.
“Shit, I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he says, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb.
You shake your head slightly in reassurance, moaning around his cock again, and he releases a heavy breath, eyes fluttering shut once more as you continue to suck and bob and lick, effectively ruining him.
“Okay, okay, baby,” he says after a little while, lightly tugging on your hair to try and get you to stop. “I’m gonna come if you keep doin’ that.” 
You release his cock with an audible pop and send him a pout, “But that’s the whole point.” 
He chuckles a bit, sliding the mask off for a second so he can pull you up to kiss you softly, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip. You moan gratefully into his mouth when he tilts his head to deepen it, opening up greedily. As attractive as you find the mask, you certainly do miss being able to kiss him. You sigh happily when he pulls back to mouth at your jaw and throat, sucking and nipping his way down. 
“I wanna be in you when I come,” he murmurs against your skin, voice rough and gruff and you don’t think you’ll ever tire of it. “How’s that sound?”
You moan softly when he bites down on your throat, his beard and mustache tickling your skin. “Sounds…sounds good.”
He gives you another kiss before tugging his mask back down over his head, and your skin ignites, pussy fluttering.
Joel laughs. “I can literally see the cogs in your brain turnin’ when I put this on. You really do like it, huh?”
You shrug with a guilty smile. “The heart wants what it wants.”
And what it wants is him. Real bad.
So you drift a hand down to pull your panties to the side and shift your hips to position yourself over him, the head of his cock catching on your entrance. You sink slowly down, his length filling you.
The two of you moan in tandem.
“There we go,” he sighs.
“Mm, so big, Joel…” you whimper, and his dick jumps inside you.
You both just hang there for a moment, suspended in time as you get used to the feeling of each other. You’ve done this so many times, know each others bodies inside and out, yet it’s still a brand new experience every time.
You always have to adjust to his thickness. 
You break the spell with an experimental roll of your hips, and Joel’s hands clamp down on your hips with a vice grip.
“Christ—“ he swears. “You’re so good, so good for me.”
He’s filling you so fully, so deeply right now, you’re practically speared on him, and each roll of your hips has your clit brushing against his pelvic bone, amplifying that white hot pressure building inside you. 
When you and Joel first started getting intimate together, he was quiet in the bedroom. Probably a bit nervous around you—he was the one that fell first, after all.
But now after years together, he lets it all out.
Grunts and moans leak out of his gritted teeth as you fuck yourself on top of him. He’s dousing you in praises, telling you what a good girl you are. How perfect you are. How lucky he is to call you his wife. 
It’s all so very adorable and very sexy and you just love him so fucking much. 
Joel plants his feet down behind you, just to get some leverage so he can thrust his hips up into you at a steady pace. Your hands find purchase on his chest, keeping you upright while he fucks you.
His large palm slides around the front of your stomach, pressing down, and you can feel the way his cock moves inside you as he does it.
“You see that, baby?” 
You haven’t really looked down, so focused on the way he looks in the mask, how his breaths are coming out heavier and rougher through it. The way he sounds wrecked. But now that he’s asking, you do. 
You look down, only to see a slight bulge in your stomach with each thrust of his hips. 
A pleasant shudder runs through you. “Oh fuck.”
“Love seein’ the way I fuck you,” he rasps.
You watch his cock disappear and reappear with a slack jaw, eyes glazed as his hands stray to your thighs, squeezing and kneading the flesh.
You’re losing strength in your arms, your nails scraping through his chest hair as you try and remain upright, but the effort of matching his thrusts with your own along with the steady ecstasy filling your marrow is enough to have you collapsing against his chest, boneless.
And now Joel can really take the reins. His big hands grip your ass, holding you still as he pounds into you, your cheek smushing against his pecs with each heavy thrust, your clit rubbing against his sweat-slicked skin.
“F-fuck, Joel. Oh my god—“
“Yeah, yeah,” he grunts. “Atta girl.” 
Within moments you’re already there, eyes squeezing shut, brows pulled together in ecstasy as your climax crashes over you in rolling waves. It ebbs and flows within you as you listen to the heated pants modulating through Joel’s mask, watching his eyes gloss over as he chases his own release. 
It’s so fucking good. So right. Your husband never fails to give you exactly what you want.
His thrusts grow sloppier as he follows soon behind you, the fluttering walls of your cunt pulling him over faster.
“I’m comin’,” he grits. And then he’s grinding his cock into your pussy, holding you still against him as he paints your insides with thick ropes of cum, releasing a long, drawn out, wrecked moan of your name.
You lay pliant on his chest, practically drooling on him as you both come down and his cock softens inside you, slick and cum running down the inside of your thighs. His heart pounds under your ear, a steady reminder that he’s alive and here and that you, thank fuck, didn’t die earlier today.
“Thanks,” you mumble against his perspirant skin.
He tugs the mask off, his hair sticking to his sweaty temple. “‘Course, darlin’. Though as hot as that was, I dunno about having sex wearin’ that again. I think I was startin’ to get light headed from the lack of air.”
You giggle, “I’m sorry.”
“No, no. I liked it. But now anytime we have to wear them again I’m just gonna be thinkin’ about this. Gonna get a damn hard-on when I’m on patrol.”
You smirk, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He opens up beneath you immediately, moaning softly into your mouth. 
“Maybe that was my goal all along,” you mumble, smiling into the kiss.
He pulls back with a quirked brow and crooked grin. “You are into some sick kinds of torture.”
“I mean, if it gets you coming home to me quicker…”
“Oh I’ll be comin’, alright.”
Your face scrunches. “God, you’re sick. Why did I even marry you?”
His eyes melt, one hand squeezing your ass cheek, the other stroking your jaw. “Because you love me.”
That causes tears to well in your eyes again, because despite everything, despite all the fucked up things about this world, you do love him. You’re capable of loving him. And you’re grateful that, even with the terrible way life has treated him, he’s capable of loving you too.
“Yeah, I do,” you say.
He kisses you again, sweet and passionate and filled with all the things he never knows how to say. “I love you, too.”
831 notes · View notes
mamayan · 9 months
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I’m 26 just shy as fuck with using my blog for asks, but I will literally owe you my life for Sanemi yobai if you ever feel like doing it.
I don’t need your life nonnie, fear not! I will be taking your soul though Your ask will be answered! Except, Sanemi is such a stubborn baby, and due to this, his potential sweetheart will be the one who needs to initiate… deeper relations.
★彡Yobai☆彡
Sanemi Shinazugawa x Fem! Reader
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Yobai “Night Crawling”
The pre-Meiji Era practice of slipping into a consenting woman’s room at night for sexual relations or even courtship.
Synopsis: Your sweetheart, Sanemi, won’t open his heart further out of fear for your safety. His efforts to protect you ultimately pushing you away. You set the record straight.
CW: NSFW • FLUFF • Virgin! Sanemi • Creampie • Oral (F)
Read Kyojuro Rengoku’s Yobai story here!
The Shinazugawa estate lays ahead in the distance, the night nearly swallowing it within it’s starless sky. You raise your chilled fingers to your lips to blow quickly dissipating warmth, feet shuffling through the ankle deep snow. The streets are silent, even the wind still. The world a mixture of purity and loneliness around you. You glance around, doors tightly shut, the inhabitants likely all asleep. Leaving you utterly alone with only a stubborn resolve clenched in your heart.
“You need to leave.”
“Sanemi—,”
“Please…” how could you do anything else? His hands shaking as he fists them at his side, his head turned as if even looking at you would crack his resolve. He wouldn’t let you speak the words, the sentence you’ve both been aching to utter to one another for months now.
I love you.
It was left unsaid. How could you not feel defeated? You regretted walking away, not turning around and grabbing him, screaming to the world how you truly felt. That the big bad Hashira, the respected Wind Pillar, Sanemi Shinazugawa, held your heart in it’s entirety. You’ve watched and waited for months, never pushing, always resilient, but it was getting you nowhere. If his own younger brother couldn’t reach him, what were you capable of? What did you have that could crack his resolve, make him give in, to be happy for once. Selfish. Even just a little.
You stare up at the wide gates, the entrance to his home tightly closed. You were no demon slayer, no professional, but you’d scraped your knees enough as a child to handle scaling his walls with the help of a nearby tree.
Your heart beat a mile a minute, palms sweaty despite the freezing cold, as you slowly made your way to his front door.
You sent a silent prayer it was unlocked like you assumed.
It was. The doors push open and you’re quick to slip inside the warm walls and push the cold back out. It’s still and quiet inside as well, but it was the middle of the night and you knew Sanemi kept himself on a strict routine. You briefly frown, the thought of him all alone within such a large house. Your resolve further solidifies, your own anxiety and fear nothing to compared to his suffering and pain. You didn’t foolishly believe you’d cure anything, your presence wouldn’t return anyone lost, but if he could just live for himself… even just a little, didn’t that count for something? You vowed you’d do all within your power to make him happy.
You slip your shoes shoes off, not wishing to track the soaked snow ridden things onto the clean floors.
Softly padding down the hall, you used your memory to find his room. Only once coming close to the space, a moment he’d smashed with his own hands, when you’d nearly kissed that day.
It didn’t matter. Not tonight.
He’d either fully reject you, tell you he doesn’t want you, and nothing about safety or whatever excuse he’s dared to already use. He’d reject you or… he’d take you.
You knew the secret rendezvous lovers this day and age participated in. Night crawling a popular and relatively safe way to find compatible marriage partners without harming reputation.
Though… you grimace, reminded how it’s normally the man’s position to initiate…
You shake it off. Sanemi not the sort of man to act on such desires. His self control nearly masochistic.
Creeping closer, your hand softly touches the shoji door separating his sleep space. It opened silently, your relief palpable as you run over the scenario you’ve created in your mind for how this might play out. His reactions and words already mapped so you can reply and retort strongly to make your case.
Except your mind goes completely blank when you fully open the door only to be greeted with a full katana only an inch from your face.
“Hck!” It’s a choked noise which escapes you, your quick retreat causing you to land on your bottom as you look up into the intense dark amethyst gaze of a scared white haired man. His hair more tousled and fluffy than usual, his loose yukata hardly on his imposing frame, more skin exposed than covered.
His brows furrow, a twitch to his eye as veins visibly throb around his temple.
“You better have a damn good reason,” his irritation clearly displayed as he glares down at you. “For showing up in the middle of the night, in winter for fucks sake!” His sword is sheathed and set aside as he stomps towards you, wrapping a large palm around your bicep and pulling you rather gently to your feet. His threatening display and looming figure over you juxtaposed to his soft handling of your body.
Strike one.
“I love you.” His eyes can’t widen any further.
“Sanemi, I love you, I’ve loved you for—,” he cuts you off. Stubborn man he is.
“Stop! You don’t know what you’re saying, you need to go home.” His face turns away from you, but the moonlight shining from the hall onto you both illuminates the pink tint his skin has taken. He’s furiously blushing.
Strike two.
“I know exactly what I’m saying. I love you Sanemi Shinazugawa, I want to be yours.”
He’s nearly choking at your words, looking visibly startled and insulted.
“Do you even know what you’re saying idiot?!” He’s making himself angrier, believing you don’t truly understand what you’re implying. You stand unwavering before him though.
The tall young man at a loss of how to handle this entire situation delicately. He couldn’t toss you out, it’s the middle of winter, and you lived no where close to him. How you even made it here so thinly dressed causes another vein to nearly burst at your carelessness.
“I’m going to get some blankets, you can stay on the other side of the house tonight—“
“No!” The furrow of your brows and cute pouty display of stomping your foot had him pausing, flushing even deeper and becoming even more furious if possible.
“Hah?” If his face could twist any further, you’d wonder if he sucked on a lemon.
“I want to sleep with you.”
“W-what?” For all he’s worth, Sanemi is not an experienced man. No, in the end, he’s still a hot blooded young man, and he’s easy prey to the charms of the woman he loves claiming to want to share his bed.
Strike three.
You didn’t hesitate anymore. Despite Sanemi being bigger and physically much more powerful than you, he let himself be manhandled by you. Your soft hands touching his bare chest enough to make him tremble, so he was truly unable to fight as you pushed him further into his own room and shove him down onto his bed.
He’s dumbfounded, looking up at you now, your pretty face set serious as you start fumbling with your clothes.
He reacts late, realizing you’re stripping. For him. In his room. In his fucking bed.
His voice is weak, pathetic really.
“S-stop, please,” he has to stop just to swallow, breathing shallow as your smooth skin becomes bare for his eyes. He can only wet his dry lips as you let your robes slip, his room illuminated from the hall, your curves nearly all visible. A thin band of fabric over your chest.
“We-no, w-wait—,” really, it’s got none of his usual gusto behind it. You’re made to move on him, and he acts as helpless as kitten as you straddle him, pressing yourself so close he’s reeling with panic and arousal. Hands twitching just before your waist, unsure if he wants to give in and pull you closer or stop this madness like he should.
You don’t let him debate further. Hands cupping his scared cheeks, before you lean in to press your lips against his.
The kiss is stiff, only you kissing him as he sits below you frozen.
It’s not until you tentatively let your tongue slip out to lick the seam of his lips that he snaps.
You’re flipped, landing cushioned by the bed beneath you, as Sanemi stares down at you. Wide eyes staring at you for only a moment before he’s crashing his lips against your own passionately now. Softening and molding them to you, so needy and sweet you open your mouth, his tongue entering and warming your body up as your arousal spikes.
His form is still shaking, muscles flexing and seeming strained as he kisses you like he’ll never get the chance again. He seems to melt as you wrap your arms around around his neck, pulling him closer as he drops to his elbows, letting a little weight rest on you. He tastes sweet, you can’t help but note. Nearly as sweet as he smells.
You’re both forced to break for air, panting as you look into his half lidded gaze, his facial expression more lax.
“I love you,” you whisper it against his lips, his reaction visceral as he finally digs his hands into you, gripping your hips tight as he groans. You giggle, letting your own hands wander as he bows his head to rest on your soft chest. You’re reminded of a cat as he lets his cheek rub against your breast, his eyes closed as he breathes you in.
He lifts, kissing your covered chest, as he meets your eyes. They’re soft and desperate all at once, your heart constricting as he kisses your lips so softly.
“I love you too,” it’s hardly audible but you swoon, reconnecting your lips and letting your thighs spread.
He does it unconsciously, digs his knees into the bed and pushes your legs up even further to slot himself perfectly against you. You just feel so good, soft warm beneath him as he squeezes and feels all of you for once.
Your cool hands work into his robe, pushing the fabric easily off his chest and shoulders, and he’s happy to allow you to admire his physique. Sliding his arms out of his sleeves and sitting up so you can feel more of him, down the rough panes of his chest to his abs, and the light trail of hair going from his navel down.
“Hmph,” his smirk is mouth watering, “see something you like?” It only brings a bigger smile to your lips, giggling as you pull him back to your lips, moaning into his mouth when his own hands begin to tug on the covering over your chest, and you happily lift to allow him to remove it.
He breaks the kiss to look at you, embarrassed by how his mouth waters and cock aches as he takes you in. He’s almost hesitant, despite all your bold proclamations, he resembles more of a young maiden than you for a moment.
“Is it alright…?”
“Sanemi, please,” it’s your soft little whine that makes him groan, happily to indulge as he gropes at your chest and lowers his head to lick and suck.
His gentle, so feather light in touch, worried about hurting you or scaring you. You, showing up to his room like a dream, his wildest fantasies playing out and making him scalding hot. It’s when your fingers thread through his hair that he nips at your areola, licking when you jolt and cry out in apology before he returns the same treatment to it’s twin.
“Sanemi!” Your moan is intoxicating, and he can’t help how he grinds against you, but still too focused on touching you to rush anything.
“So fucking soft…” he’s muttering under his breath, eyes wild as he looks at your panting pretty image.
“Please, touch more…?” It’s all the confirmation he needs, one hand traveling from your chest down your stomach, dipping into your soaked core.
“You’re wet,” he chuckles, more amazed than anything else because he did this, made you look like this. He’s not mean though, sinking a finger inside you as you arch your back and moan for him. His gaze trained on how your small hole stretches so nicely, becoming even wetter as he moves and rubs inside you.
You take a second to adjust as well, his hand on your breast leaving in favor of shoving your knee up to your chest so he can truly watch.
“This position… wait your face, oh!” He’s smiling but you can’t see, not as he removes his fingers to lick up your dripping arousal. You dig your fingers back into his tresses, making him moan as he begins to really dig into your pussy with conviction. Letting his nose grind into your clit as he sticks his tongue inside and swallows you, your hips unable to stop how they twitch and squirm.
“Sanemi I think I’m gonna—,”
Your pitched voice has his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs.
“Fuck, go ahead baby, let me taste you.” His words coupled with his renewed vigor to feast on you, has you breaking for him. Crying out and tugging on his hair as you shake and moan.
He doesn’t let a drop go to waste, nearly overstimulating you accidentally as you huff and beg for him to fuck you.
“What was that?” His tone is teasing, grin feral as he looks down at you with those pointed cat eyes. You kindly indulge his ego though, reaching out to him with watery eyes, saccharine tone making him puff up. “Please…” you draw cutely.
“Fuck me already you idiot,” you laugh, breaking the mood just a bit as he rolls his eyes, shoulders dropping and relaxing as he covers you again, now fully naked beneath him as he works to throw his yukata to the side, focusing on keeping you distracted as he grips his cock tightly in his hand.
“Little minx, look at you,” his demeanor is so different like this, melting with kindness and compassion as he kisses you. The taste of yourself combined with his sweetness making you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer.
“Eager?” You nearly revoke your statement of kindness at his cocky attitude, but you tense up as bit as he allows the head of his cock to drag through your folds. Wetting himself with your arousal.
You try to look down, but his hand catches your jaw and redirects your attention with another deep and sloppy kiss.
You break away when he begins to push in, a bit panicked as you finally look down to see he’s trying to push that into you.
“Sanemi, that isn’t going to—,” he kisses you again, mumbling against your lips and pushing you to lie back, “Shh… you’ll relax for me, won’t you flower?” It’s a cliche nickname, but from his lips it’s nothing if not perfect as you try to obey.
You didn’t need to get cold feet now, even if he was enormous and your gut churned in anxiety, he was yours wasn’t he? The thought calmed you, his lips and gentle touch keeping you pliant as he begins to sink into you.
His flushed appearance doesn’t help hide it, but he’s on the verge of panic himself.
Pushing into your tight heat has his toes curling, teeth grit for concentration and control, and his breathing so similar to training it would be impossible to tell the difference.
You feel too good, feel so perfect, gooey walls squeezing his cock and turning his head mushy, unable to really think as he sinks a little deeper.
He’s trying to be gentle, give you time to adjust because he’s not ignorant of his size. Your cute reaction certainly boosting his ego plenty, but he’s cognizant watching you, checking for any sign of real distress.
“Sanemi, I’m so full…,” but he’s still just an inexperienced young man, so hearing you moan like that? His hips jerked and he shoved himself completely inside, sharp hiss of pleasure and wide eyes growing terrified as you cry out.
“Shit, sorry, sorry, are you okay? Should I stop?”
“No, don’t stop!” It’d be worse to start all over again, you knew.
He holds you close as you pant, kissing your face, hair line, nose, and lips to keep you distracted. His thick cock filling you so much, stretching your walls and hitting so deep inside, you briefly wonder if sex is even going to work.
Until you relax. Your body allowing him shockingly deeper and you moan because it feels good now, the stretch and feeling him so close to you.
“C-can I…?” He’s gone too, looking ruined and sweaty, so red it’s adorable, despite his size and intimidating appearance. You nod, your soft noises encouraging as he pulls out, slowing pushing back into you.
“Fuck,” he’s gripping you close, leaning on his elbows again so he can bury his face in your neck. Your cute expression of pleasure too much for him to look at without finishing too quickly.
He has to bite his tongue not cum.
His hips working awkwardly inside you, unsure how deep to go or what makes you feel good as you pant and moan beneath him. You’re overwhelmed, certainly not in pain, but feeling so much of him had you choking. The man you love trying so hard to make you feel good and be gentle despite his soft whimpers and whines into your neck. Too embarrassed to show his face anymore.
“I love you—“ you hiss, his cock sinking hard and deep into you at the confession as he shudders against you.
“Don’t say that, fuck,” his thrusts increase, a bit of sweat dripping onto you now, mixing with your own as you cling to him.
“Coming into my home,” he’s getting more aggressive, one of his hands moving down between you two, rubbing at your clit as you clamp down and cry. Your wet eyes finally spilling over into tears. “You don’t get to cry,” he’s nearly on the verge of tears himself, “not when you offered yourself to me like this,” he can’t help watching your pussy take him, “no, you’re mine now, aren’t you?” His smile is wobbly, his own eyes a bit wet as he feels his end nearing.
You nod, unable to speak as your back arches and you come around him, throwing him over the edge as he throws his head back and fills you. His shout bleeding with pleasure.
He comes a ridiculous amount. Painting your insides and excessively flowing out of you despite his cock remaining inside. Each twitch felt as you milk him for all he’s worth.
He can only weakly collapse against you, dragging you to the side while still connected to hold you close as he buries his face in your chest.
You catch your breath together, no one speaking as you pet his soft hair and he listens to your heart.
You smile, letting sleep slowly take you as you thank Kyojuro’s younger brother for giving you such good relationship advice.
Though, you still had to wonder how the young Senjuro knew about yobai…
562 notes · View notes
e-m-ma-lmfao · 9 months
Text
Protect You Always
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pairing : cloud strife x (fem) reader
summary: tifa is sure that cloud has feelings for you. so sure that she accidentally makes you confess.
warnings: none :)
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“Could you go run errands with Cloud today?” Tifa held her hands out to you, mock pleas all over her face. 
“Huh? Why me? Why can’t you?” She backed away, turning to concoct another drink up for you, loosening you up to ask for her favour most likely. 
“Sure I could. But..he seems to have taken a liking to a certain mercenary sitting at my bar.” Suddenly your drink caught in your throat. With flushed cheeks you moved your almost empty cup up to your lips to hide your face as much as possible from anybody listening in. That was crazy. Cloud didn’t feel anything for anybody, except maybe…you thought for Tifa? With her back still turned she let out a small laugh, and you could feel the smile burning on her face. 
“That’s not funny Tifa.” Quickly she turned to face you, startling you enough to set your drink down onto the surface of the bar, as she pointed an accusatory finger at you. 
“And I’m not joking. It’s so obvious. He is the nicest to you out of all of us,” she turned to grab the drink and then returned to hand it to you, “Plus he does literally everything you ask him to for FREE, you think he does that to all of us? No way.” If you thought about it long enough, she might be right. You could think of a couple examples of Cloud maybe showing you a little more attention then the rest of the group. 
He had walked you home from the bar almost every night for the past year that you had known him. Without fail. Without asking. “Girls like you shouldn’t walk around at night by themselves, it’s not safe.”
“I’m completely capable of walking myself home Cloud”.
“I know”
You would have a little too much to drink or none at all, completely sober and capable of walking yourself down the short street of the slums to your apartment. Didn’t matter, he was still walking you home. 
Cloud had never once used the excuse that it was because he lived right above you, and even if he had you would be able to easily tell he was lying because he wouldn’t go home after dropping you at yours. 
There was even that one time where you laid your head down on the surface of the bar for five minutes and had woken up in your bed the next morning unsure of how you had even got there, perhaps Cloud avoiding you the next day had nothing to do with that. 
Sometimes, when a guy would shoot an inappropriate comment in your direction, Cloud’s cheekbones would become more prominent. Why was he clenching his jaw? And why did he suddenly seem all pouty? You never paid much attention to them anyways and carried on with your day without being bothered by a sleazy guy in the street. Maybe it was simply coincidence that Cloud would always disappear for a couple hours after, without a good excuse or just leaving with a prompt, “I’ll see you later, I have something to take care of.”  
However those guys did seem to always end up coming to you with some sort of apology later that day or even the next, roughed up and clearly not there out of free will. 
And when you would ask him to do certain things for you that somebody had asked of him the same day. Tifa was right, he never asked you for payment, you couldn’t even remember a time he had accepted payment from you.. Every time you tried to pay him he refused it, pushing it back towards you. “Let's count it as a favor and say you owe me one.” Your face would scrunch up in annoyance but it would fade just as quickly as it had appeared when a barely noticeable smile would upturn Cloud's lips and his eyes would brighten the smallest bit.
“Who knew someone could have such a nice smile when they're all moody and scary all the time.”
“You think I’m scary?” Cloud seemed to make a habit out of smiling around you after that day. 
The sound of Tifa’s soft laughter had brought you back to the conversation happening in front of you, her eyes were staring into yours and you could feel your cheeks warm at her catching you daydreaming. 
“Thinking about Cloud?” You opened your mouth to retort but another voice interrupted you before you could. 
“Who’s thinking about me?” You were mortified, spinning in your chair to see Cloud approaching the bar, most likely coming to collect Tifa for their run to see who needed help. A job that you, unfortunately, had forgotten before he had made his presence known. 
“Just your favourite girl seated at my bar.” Tifa gleamed, grin wide and it only grew wider when she looked between your faces. You were flushed, embarrassed, eyes full of maybe anger and a want to hide from the earth. Cloud tried to be stoic, but he gave away his true feelings by the obvious pink tint to his cheeks and the way his mouth opened as he looked towards you. Words caught in both of your throats.
“I won’t be going with you today because I have some extra stuff to do around the bar. Is it okay if y/n goes in my place?”
“Uhhh..” Clouds hesitation made you want to crumble into a ball. If Tifa was right , and he did like you, then why wouldn’t he say yes right away? 
“I don’t have to, honestly! I can finish up for you here Tifa!” She’s shot daggers into you with her eyes.
“We’ll whoever’s coming with me, make it quick.” He stared between the two of you, face blank , before turning to go outside. You turned back to look at Tifa not waiting to hear the door close.
“What the hell are you trying to do?” It was your turn to shoot daggers into Tifa. 
“Just go with him, why is it any different than any other time?” In her hands she held a dirty class, wiping it down with a washcloth cloth as she spoke to you.
“Because Tifa now you’ve put this stupid idea in my head that maybe, and that’s a pretty big maybe, Cloud Strife might be feeling the same things I do.” She looked at you, concern rolling around in her eyes, and she looked like she was about to speak but you cut her off. 
“No. Seriously Tifa, I’m tired of you making it seem like me and Cloud might ever be anything other than co-workers. I can’t keep getting my hopes up over the same guy, and you're really not helping.” Her face was soft now, eyes full of pity before they shuffled towards the door. 
“What’s that look for?” You turned your body to follow her eyes. It occurred to, when you met his wide eyes, that you had not actually heard Cloud leave the bar. 
“I’ll be waiting..uhh..outside.” Cloud let out an awkward, silence breaking cough before letting himself out the door. 
“You are joking. This isn’t real. That didn’t happen. Why’d you let me spew like that?”
“I tried to stop you!” Before you could get any angrier at her she took your hands in hers and spoke before you. “I know that right now, in your head, the whole world just crumbled around you. But you should’ve seen the way Clouds face lit up. It was subtle but it was there.”
You went to speak but her finger met your lips. “Trust me. Go with him, and talk to him about this. Do not leave it.”
A sigh left your lips, tickling her finger enough to pull it away from yours lips, “What if you're wrong Tifa?” 
“If I’m wrong, free drinks for a year AND I’ll take over for you on every job with Cloud.” You gave her a somber nod and slipped from the barstool, dragging your feet out the door. 
Just as he had said he would be, Cloud stood not far from the door. From where you stood, and you weren’t entirely certain if you were seeing it right, but his cheeks seemed to be gleaming with an unfamiliar red color. As the door closed behind you, Cloud looked over, trying to hide the color blooming on his face. 
“Let’s go, I wanna get this done before the sun goes down.” He moves down the stairs quickly before you even get a chance to respond and your heart sinks but you follow after him anyways, heart in your stomach. 
The whole ordeal took the two of you maybe an hour and a half, but it felt much much longer. Silence overtook the two of you, both of you being much too stubborn to say the first word, so you worked in complete silence. 
When the job was done you almost slumped over in relief, but your heart had been sinking farther and farther in your body the longer it went on, and it was starting to affect you. 
“Hey Cloud,” the first words spoken between you for the last two hours, “I’m gonna head home if you don’t need anything else.” You couldn’t even hold eye contact, embarrassment burning your face. 
“I’ll walk you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know,” You looked up to where his mako tainted eyes were already burning into you, “But I’m still going to. We need to talk.” And with the words, you were sure you could throw up, heart fully sunk now. 
What was there to talk about? How he didn’t feel the same and Tifa had been leading you astray for months?
You walked silently beside him, skin crawling as you waited for him to say something. 
“I don’t think you’re getting your hopes up.” Hesitating, you looked up from your feet and tried to scan his face, but he was glued forwards. 
“What?”
“C’mon don’t make me repeat it. You’re a smart girl, are you gonna wait for me to spell it out?”  He shot a glance towards you and you were sure you saw it. He was red. Definitely not as red as you but the color was there!
Your heart returned back to your chest, almost tripping over your feet as you followed his quick pace. He was a man on a mission, always, and his steps were so hard to match.  “Oh!”
He didn’t say anything for the rest of the walk but he did ensure that you got up to your apartment safely.
“Would you come in for a second?” Cloud hesitated but he followed, closing the door behind him before standing awkwardly with his arms crossed. 
You sat on your bed and tried to think of the right words to say.
“I’m sure that Tifa has made it pretty obvious that I have ..romantic.. feelings for you.” Sitting down on the bed was the wrong move, you felt so much smaller than usual looking up at him, and his attention fully on you wasn’t helping much. 
“No kidding.” He rolled his eyes but let a small chuckle leave his lips. Cloud was usually so stoic, so serious, and you loved how he was never like that with you. It put a smile on your face. 
“Listen y/n,” Cloud moved towards you to sit on the bed beside you, closer than you would’ve expected from him, “I do feel the same.” A wide smile broke out on your face. his expression remained the same. 
“But you have to understand something.” And the smile flew from your face. Cloud was now showing emotion, his hand flying to your cheek, with concern flooding his eyes. 
“No. Don’t be sad,” His thumb rubbed soft circles against your skin and you weren’t even sure if he was consciously doing it, “I don’t want you to be in danger if we do this. I care about you and if people know that, you could be used to get to me. I can’t do that to you.”
You placed your hand on top of his, his thumb stopping its movement when you made contact, your other hand reaching for the one resting in his lap. “For you, I can be okay with that.”
“I don’t want you getting hurt, ever.” 
“Hey! I can handle myself pretty well, you know,” His face was still so serious, and it was making you nervous, “Besides I have my own personal bodyguard.” You pushed his shoulder gently, and a small smile broke out on his face. 
“Cloud?"
"Hm?"
"Could I..kiss you?” His mouth opened slightly, but he only nodded. 
Gently, you placed your hands on the sides of his face and pulled him in until he was close enough. His lips brushed against yours and they parted just a little more, you froze in front of him in a moment of flustered hesitation. Cloud took his chance in that moment and pushed his lips onto yours, still holding your cheek in his large, rough hand. 
It was quiet and you would’ve felt nervous, if it wasn’t for Cloud’s hands on your skin keeping you so stuck in the monet, and his surprisingly soft lips still held against you.
When he pulled away, his face was still centimeters from your face with your lips still touching slightly, and you almost crumbled from looking into his blown out eyes. You were certain that you looked the same way, your pupils always seemed to be huge when you looked at him anyways. 
“I promise I will always protect you.”
“Always?” His hand found yours, holding your fingers within his own, as gently as he could.
“Forever and always.”
764 notes · View notes
thezombieprostitute · 2 months
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Lloyd Hanson - Soulmate AU
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A/N: I swear, I tried to ignore him but that only made things worse. @alicedopey didn't help!
Word Count: ~1.8k
Warnings: Reader is kidnapped. Smut. Sub/Dom dynamics vs Dub Con?
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The bag is removed from your head and you're finally able to get a look at your surroundings. It's a dark room with one light above the table. It looks like one of those police interrogation rooms in TV shows. The duct tape is ripped from your mouth and you hiss from the pain. You test the bonds around your wrists, tied behind your back, but they're too secure to wiggle out of.
The chair across from you is abruptly pulled back and you're face to face with a tall, broad, blue eyed man with a porn mustache. He's smiling at you. You say nothing, letting your confusion show on your face. He rolls up his shirt sleeve and you see his soulmate tattoo. It's an exact match for yours.
"You couldn't have just bought me a coffee," you ask, trying to keep from snapping.
"Sweetheart," he coos, "you're my soulmate. I have to get you used to what the rest of your life is going to be."
You raise an eyebrow at that, "I'm going to constantly be kidnapped and talk with over-the-top idiots?"
He laughs at your comeback, "not quite. But I do have a lot of enemies and I gotta make sure my soulmate doesn't panic, cry and rat me out if they get picked up." He leans forward and rests his arms on the table. "And I gotta say, you are a champ!"
"I'm good at getting kidnapped," you deadpan. "What a wonderful compliment."
"Not easily scared, sassy and sarcastic," he croons. "You really are my soulmate." He winks and you roll your eyes.
"How did you find me," you ask. "I rarely, if ever, let my soulmate tattoo show."
"Someone used a rare photo of your mark to draw me in," he admits. "Imagine my surprise when it was someone trying to kill me."
"And from there you were able to find me," you nod. "Any chance of untying me, now that you know I'm not trying to kill you?"
"I dunno," he leers, "I'm kinda getting hard at the thought of you being so helpless to stop me."
"I swear to whatever deity will listen, I can and will bite you. Literally and metaphorically."
"Metaphorically?"
"The reason you like me being tied up is because your limp dick needs to feel like it's actually capable of leaving some kind of imprint."
"Ouch!" He moves his hand over his heart, "you weren't kidding, Sunshine. That really hurt!" He leaned forward even more, grinning like a Cheshire cat, "do it again."
"The only reason you don't shave your mustache is because you enjoy getting looks from people because you're a needy man-baby who needs the attention."
"Ooooh, that feels so good," he leans back, chuckling. He makes a motion and someone comes up behind you and undoes your bindings.
"Thank you," you nod, rubbing your wrists.
"Ah, I was wondering where the niceness was." You raise your eyebrow again, silently asking him what he meant. "You work with people a lot and always get such glowing customer service reviews. That means you can at least pretend to be nice. But when I dig further, I find that you're a good neighbor who helps the old lady carry in her groceries. Helps the kiddies with their homework. All that wholesome stuff."
"I have social skills," you retort. "Kinda required for the job."
"You don't have a job anymore." You don't try to hide your surprise at that statement. His tone goes stern for the first time, "I can't have my soulmate wasting her time on other people. All of that goodness you do for others? You're gonna do it for me and only me from now on. I get to be the only outlet for your kindness and you're gonna pamper me every time I'm home."
“No I'm not.”
“Excuse you? I don’t see that you have much of a choice here Sweetie.”
“Not my fault you lack the imagination to see my options.” 
“Your options are to either tend to my every want and need or wallow in a basement on starvation rations.” You smile at him and enjoy the momentary drop in his confidence. “You will give me everything I want. In return, I’ll give you everything money can buy.” You throw your head back and laugh at that. He’s squirming a little, wondering what the hell is going on.
“You can have my submission when you earn it,” you coo. “And you don’t earn it by buying it.” You lean forward, putting yourself in his personal space. 
“What the hell is going on?”
You roll up your sleeve to show Lloyd the matching soulmate tattoo and put your arm next to his. At the first touch of your hand, you both feel the electricity that confirms the two halves have met. You reach out and gently rub his cheek with your hand and he leans into it, gently moaning before he catches himself. 
“You see, even though I don’t know your name, I can see right through you. Your reactions to my snipes and my politeness were quite telling. You do crave attention but you’ve only ever been good at getting negative attention. A soulmate could give you that positive attention you long for. Why else would you actually come looking for me? You could keep up that attention seeking behaviour without involving me but you put yourself at risk for the chance at meeting someone who might be kind to you. Who might like you, if only because they have to.”
“My name is Lloyd,” he grumbles.
“Thank you, Lloyd. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but you definitely started on the wrong foot.” 
He goes silent but he doesn’t stop your hand rubbing his cheek. He wants to be angry at you. He wants to follow through on his display of force. But he can’t do that. He makes another hand motion and a door opens. He stands up, comes around the table and lifts you up out of your chair. 
“I don’t appreciate not being in control, Sweetheart,” he growls at you. “I may want all of your affection but I will not hesitate to use force if you try to take control from me ever again.”
“As I said, you can have my submission when you’ve earned it.”
“And how do I do that? You turned down my offer of everything money can buy.”
“Treat me like a queen or goddess, not a pet.”
Lloyd takes a deep breath and starts walking towards the door, taking you with him. You manage to keep pace as he leads you through several hallways, up some stairs and finally emerging into, what you can easily assume to be, a mansion. He doesn’t stop to let you take too close of a look. He leads up the wide staircase, to a set of double doors. He pushes them open and you see a giant, canopy bed. You also see things that, while you can’t name them, you're pretty sure they’re meant for BDSM activities. 
He pulls you towards him, wrapping you in his arms, and forces your face up to look at him. “You’re not the only one who can read people, Sweetheart,” he purrs. “You enjoy being a bratty, submissive slut. You want someone who can properly dominate you, satisfy that craving your cunt aches for.”
He walks you to the bed as he keeps talking, “you always tried to hide your tattoo because it was your one rebellion against a world that makes you feel helpless. You are kind to your neighbors because you’re too stubborn to let your customer service job kill your soul.”
He pushes you onto all fours on the bed and smacks your ass. “And your unusual calm at being kidnapped? You expect the world to fuck you over.” He smacks your ass again and you bite back a moan. “You expect things to be out of your control so you don’t sweat it when you’re proven right.” He smacks your ass a few more times and you can’t stop the moan that escapes you. As soon as he hears it he chuckles. “You don’t want to be treated like a pet? Fine.” He spanks you again. “But I won’t treat you like a goddess or a queen.” Another slap. “I’m gonna treat you like the dirty slut you’ve always wanted to be.” Another slap. “And I’ll make sure you never feel you have to be more than just the cock hungry whore you really are.” 
The spanking continues, hard, fast and painful, until your arms give out. Lloyd reaches his arms around you and pulls you up so that your back is flush against his muscular chest. One hand holds you up by your neck. His other hand reaches under your clothes and smirks at how wet you are. He gathers up some of the slick and starts rubbing circles over your clit. You start whining and gasping at the sensations but you don’t dare move your hips. You’re certain he’ll stop if you do anything he doesn’t tell you to and you don’t want this to stop. 
He whispers in your ear, “so long as you never try to wrestle control from me again, I’ll treat how you really want to be treated.” His fingers move faster and you whimper from how close you are. “Not like a queen or a goddess, no. Not a pet, either.” You’re focused on not moving, trying to make sure that his fingers continue to work their magic. “I’ll treat you like my dirty little slut who will do anything so long as I let her cum.” 
His grip on your neck tightens and he whispers, “cum for me.” Your orgasm hits you harder than you ever thought possible. He keeps his fingers moving as he whispers “such a good slut.” As the ecstasy ebbs your legs start shaking and he lays you down on your back. 
Lloyd licks his fingers and moans appreciatively. He pulls off your pants and underwear, whistling appreciatively at the mess you’ve made of your panties. You try to lift yourself on your elbows but he pushes you back down. “You move when I tell you to, Sweetheart,” he orders, his tone making you whimper. He winks at you, “now let me show you the real reason I keep this mustache.”
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inbarfink · 8 months
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Goddam, just seeing Simon in these last two episodes is really flooding me with so many conflicting emotions.
Because, on the one hand, after his lowest point in Episode 4 - resigning himself to death in the hands of the Scarab - he’s clearly finally doing better. Just look at him making plans
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And showing off his smarts
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And finally genuinely smiling and feeling happy
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And being so glad to meet the alt versions of his friends
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And getting excited about his nerdy shit for the first time in glob-knows-how-long
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And cracking goofy geeky jokes
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And offering others the same grace and kindness he was given when he was trapped under the curse of the Magic Crown
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And trying to be comforting and fatherly and give Fionna advice and cheer her up
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He’s so clearly doing a lot better now, he’s rediscovering aspects of himself that his depression has torn away from him, he found a meaning and purpose in his life again. And it should warm my heart, and on some level it does....
But it also sends a chill down my spine knowing that this purpose that brought back the light into Simon’s eyes, the purpose he finally found is sacrificing his mind and identity again for the sake of Fionna’s happiness and her world.
He’s throwing himself right back into the miserable existence and the trauma he tries so hard to move forward from. He’s dooming himself because he honestly believes now that he’s always going to be miserable and lonely and fucked up so he might as well have be the kind of miserable and fucked up that is not lucid enough to know how miserable he is all of the time. The kind of misery that at least fits into his world.
Because he started to romanticize being the Ice King in a twisted kinda way, and now he has found the excuse to turn it into a selfless, noble act. Because the only way he feels like he’s useful and like he has worth is by protecting and helping and sacrificing himself for the sake of others.
(And like, especially in light of how he was trying to resign himself to death just moments before coming up with his plan. Not to get extremely dark, but.... suicidal people often seem to ‘get better’ just before the try to kill themselves. Because they feel like they’re finally ‘doing something’ and their misery is almost over. That kinda feels what Simon is going through right now? Becoming the Ice King again is not literally death, but it is a sort of death for Simon Petrikov’s identity.)
And this new sense of purpose in saving Fionnaworld by dooming himself is clearly blinding Simon to so many obviously telegraphed signs that this is a horrible idea.
He saw hints of just how badly Farmworld Finn has been dealing with his own Magic Crown Related Trauma
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and maybe if things would’ve been different this could’ve been something they could have commiserated over. Simon could’ve had someone who understood a bit of what he has gone through, and seeing a version of Finn, of all people, face similar struggles - maybe could’ve helped him feel a little less Uniquely and Irredeemably Fucked Up. (For bonus points, they're ALSO both dealing with the grief of losing their Significant Other)
But his newfound obsession that Everything Will Be Better Once He’s Cursed again was making him totally ignore all of this.
And then there’s their little adventure in the Winter Kingdom. Which had both the Candy Queen/Princess Bubblegum as a perfect reminder of the suffering and pain involved in being trapped in the Madness of the Magic Crown
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And the Winter King as a reminder of the harmful and twisted things he was capable of doing as the Ice King.
But instead he basically refused to learn any lesson from that Universe that’s not just ‘Fuck That Version of Me Specifically’ and tried to advice Fionna to do the same.
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But well, while I am still worried about Simon’s mental state, his improved disposition does give me a little bit of hope. Hope that maybe he himself will notice that he is doing better and won’t be quite so eager to sacrifice his own sanity. Or maybe more likely, hope that now that he’s not just a miserable sadman screaming at their faces
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Fionna and Cake are growing to appreciate Simon Petrikov for who he is and will simply refuse to let him sacrifice himself for their sake. Because, yeah, Simon tried to tell Fionna to not worry about all of that Winter Kingdom stuff, that it was just that Simon was ‘messed up’ - but since when does Fionna Campbell do what she’s told?
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genshin-side-piece · 1 month
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Hazy Shade of Winter (Part 2)
Warnings: Yandere Content, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Implied drug use, Mentions of alcohol, ]Non-Consensual Touching, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI
A/N: Slightly (?) OOC Wriothesley. I think. I'm honestly not sure. But fair warning just to be safe. Follow up to Hazy Shade of Winter (Part 1)
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There was no way to tell time in this place. Being miles under the surface meant no windows, which meant no real way to track the light. Wriothesley also didn’t seem that keen on clocks, or maybe, he wasn’t keen on them where you were concerned. It was a clever strategy, hiding something as essential as time from you.  Without it, you couldn’t gauge how long it had been since Wriothesley had left you. Nor could you know when he would be back. It might be minutes or it could be hours. You could only guess. What you were certain of was that the time you had been allowed was enough to at least feel marginally better. The hangover you’d suffered from thanks to the alcohol and the unnamed stuff had begun to ease. Though you still felt like you’d been struck by a water bus. Eventually, you found yourself capable of leaving the bed long enough to clean yourself up. It was a relief to finally rid yourself of the gritty taste in your mouth. It made you feel somewhat human again, even if it did nothing to change your circumstances. When you were satisfied, you retreated back to the bed, pulling the sheets and light comforter over you. There you stayed, hiding in the darkness. It lured you into the false belief that you were temporarily safe from the storm that was to come. Given your first encounter, you silently hoped that when he returned, Wriothesley would just leave you be. That he would pick on the fact that you cared as much for his rules as you did him and in turn, he would just go. It wasn’t like there was a rush to explain them anyway. You were a captive with no means of escape. From your point of view, he had all the time in the world to explain his expectations for you. His insistence on doing so first thing, when you weren’t even coherent, betrayed the cool facade that he had maintained since. He was excited. He was eager. No amount of sarcasm or dry humor would ever be able to hide that. 
Those emotions further betrayed him upon his eventual return.  Wriothesley tried to seem amicable, at least that’s what you thought. His true tone was muffled thanks to the blankets. You really didn’t care anyway. You only hoped he would get the message and leave. He didn’t. Instead, he ripped the blankets away from you, tearing away the illusion of safety you felt you had. “Still sleepy are we?” The wry tone in his voice did nothing to help. Nor did the tray of food he had brought with him. The sight of questionable sausage and what you thought was porridge made your stomach lurch. You tried to look at anything other than him or the tray; the walls, the ceiling, the door he had left open. Wait. Your eyes went back to it. The door, Wriothesley had left it open when he had come in. Either he was confident you wouldn’t try anything or he was testing you. It really didn’t matter. The proverbial door was open and you were prepared to take it.
You only gave the disgusting excuse for food one more glance before you threw it back in his face. Literally. Your hands came up in one swift motion, smacking the tray out from under him. You barely had time to register the way the light reflected off the porcelain bowl as it flew at Wriothesley before you made a break for it. Again with both hands, you gave him a hard shove, throwing him off just enough to squeak by and make a break for the open door. Around you, silverware clanged as it hit the floor. Glass and porcelain shattered leaving little cuts on your exposed skin, and a very distinctive grunt followed you as you desperately tried to get away. Wriothesley’s hand in your hair ended any hope of that coming true. You hadn’t even made it a handful of steps when the force of which he pulled you back ripped a scream out of you. One moment you were vertical. The next you were facing the ceiling, back pressed firmly into the lumpy mattress as Wriothesley snatched a hold of one of your wrists.  “Oh” He let out a dry laugh, that same dangerous glint returning to his eyes. “You want to fight do you? Well-” With his free hand he reached down, detaching the cuffs from his belt. “Let’s fight.” One look at them told you his intentions. With a garbled scream, you kicked at him again. This time though he was ready. Wriothesley maneuvered his hips between your flailing legs. The best you could do was smack him square in the ass with your calf. An action he seemed to enjoy, based on the smirk he gave you after you landed your first strike. “Give it to me.” Meaning your other hand. His tone was flat, expectant, and generally uninterested. To your horror, your escape attempt had done little to rile him up. Instead, he patiently held out one hand, while the other kept a grip on the wrist he had since locked in his handcuffs. “You’re already going to be punished for refusing your food. It’s only going to get worse for you if I have to reach under you and get that hand myself. Do yourself a favor and give it to me.” You still refused, vehemently shaking your head no. It was a foolish move on your part. You were all too aware of that. The smart decision would be to cooperate with him. To obey him this one time in the hope that he offered you some form of clemency. That wasn’t the decision you made though. Instead, you chose to refuse. You chose to fight. Two things you had been denied thanks to how he’d had you abducted. Two things you were all too prepared to give him in spades. All things considered, It was no less than he deserved. Wriothesley could only sigh at your refusal. He almost managed looking mournful for a moment, but it was short lived. The cocky smirk returned before he could finish his next statement. “You really want me to be the bad guy, don’t you?” Your response was to try to tuck your arm even further behind you, cementing your choice to disobey him rather than concede. “Foolish.” He clicked his tongue. “I suppose you’re really no different than the rest. Seems you’ll just have to learn this lesson the hard way.” There was only a brief shrug of his shoulders before Wriothesley finally followed through on one of his threats. All it took was one pull. 
You screamed again, the metal of the cuff around your one wrist digging into your flesh to an extreme degree as he drug your entire body off the bed. The pain that shot through your body was horrific. It felt like he was trying to rip your arm off from the force alone. Nevermind thin cuts and bruises left by the steel he had locked around your wrist. It was a foregone conclusion that he was going to get what he wanted. The force from the pull had wrenched what control you had away from you. Your body flailed in a tangle of limbs as you tried to catch yourself from falling face first onto the metal floor. He caught you, barely, but he made sure that you didn’t land into the pool of gray gunk that was congealing on the floor. Instead, you were wrenched up by your waist long enough for your other wrist to be captured in the steel of his cuffs. From there you were unceremoniously dumped onto a clean part of the floor and left to wait.
There was no quip that followed your escape attempt. No snide comment or even the faintest hint of judgment. Just a cold glare as he removed the longer chain from his outfit. The rattling bounced off the metal walls, causing you to flinch at the noise. While your headache had temporarily subsided, the piercing noise of metal echoing off of metal seemed to bring it roaring back. You whimpered, but only enough so he wouldn’t hear you over the jostling of his outfit. Thankfully he was kind enough to be quick about it, but only because removing the offending chain was easy work for him. The fact that he was punishing you to the point that you felt your ears would bleed was an inconsequential detail. You half expected him to say you deserved it. “I’ll only say this once.” He rotated the chain until he had an end in each hand. “Do as I ask. Don’t make me use force again.” Implying you wouldn’t like what would happen. Considering your present circumstances, you were fairly sure you wouldn’t. He’d already had you kidnapped and personally manhandled you without much provocation. To push him much further, at least at present, might result in a situation that was altogether unpleasant. “Hands” He gestured for you to lift your cuffed hands, which after a slight hesitation, you did. It wasn’t a leap to figure out his next move. One end of the chain found its way around the connecting link of the cuffs, while the other stayed firmly in his hand. “Up.” He moved his hand and you half expected another gesture, but instead he held it out to you, offering it as a means of assistance should you need it. An entirely gentlemanly gesture, from a brute of a man. You ignored it, awkwardly pushing yourself onto your wobbly legs. The effort to right yourself was a struggle. The failed escape attempt and subsequent fight after had drained what little energy you had woken up with away. Your legs felt no better than jelly. Standing on them or worse trying to walk on them would require a specific level of effort that you weren’t sure you possessed. The decision to not eat was a poor one. Even if the food was revolting, you probably should have seized the chance to get something in your aching stomach. At least then you could still the shaking that was quickly working its way across your entire body.
Wriothesley didn’t give you time to fret over it nor did he wait for you to fully steady yourself. The brief show of gentlemanly behavior was forgotten almost as quickly as it was offered. He yanked the chain hard, dragging you through the doorway and into the empty room beyond with little trouble or care. You stumbled, falling to your hands and knees against the rough metal floor, the sharp edges of the cold metal cutting into your exposed flesh even more. The sting from the metal biting your skin made you wince, not that Wriothesley noticed. He kept walking, pulling the chain tighter the further away he got. The silent demand from him was that you keep up; whether it was by walking or crawling. He didn’t seem to mind which. He only wanted you to follow until he ordered you to stop. Then he would move on to whatever humiliation he had planned next. Your cheeks burned at the very thought of it. How dare he. You had half a mind to repay his rough behavior with some of your own, but you weren’t nearly as strong as him. Given his size, you doubted you would be able to shift him. At most, you pulling on the chain or refusing to go any further would be a mild jerk against his hand. An inconvenience for him at worst. Hardly worth the energy or the struggle considering your current predicament. 
“Rule number one.” His voice drew you from your thoughts, pulling your attention back to him. He strode to the center of the room, bending down to loop the chain through a d-ring that was bolted to the floor. “You are the master of your own treatment here.” You stared up at him through the fringe of your lashes as he stood to his full height. “Call it irony” He shrugged. “But I don’t like the idea of punishing you. It took quite a bit of work on my part to bring you here. I even paid extra for the deluxe delivery.” Were you supposed to be impressed by that? It was laughable to consider that he expected you to fall all over yourself and thank him for taking such care with your abduction. Yet one look at him told you, that was exactly what he wanted, or rather he expected your compliance as a result of his supposed care of you. A trade. A bargain. An insult. In your mind, if he had the nerve to kidnap you, then the very least he could do was see to your safety during said act. Anything afterwards, like now, was a different transaction. Something you weren’t entirely interested in participating in unless it involved your unconditional release.  “So bearing that in mind, I suggest you consider your actions or rather your reactions in the future. I don’t want to get rough with you, but as you’ve seen, I’m not above doing it.”
“My actions?” He didn’t bother to hide his surprise when you finally broke your silence. “I’m sorry, I can’t recall ever having someone kidnapped for any reason, let alone to satisfy my own vanity.” He was quick. Despite his surprise, Wriothesley was able to volley a response back to you or rather he tried too. “That’s not-” You scoffed looking away for a moment. Any excuse or justification would go as far as his own lips. You didn’t want to hear them. You didn’t care about them. Clearly, based on your own feelings, they didn’t matter. Nothing could justify what he had done to you, nor would it justify anything that would happen in the future.  You could spend a thousand years with him and still call him a stranger. Above you, he let out a long breath. Your refusal to hear him had given him pause. You could tell those cold eyes were still firmly fixed on your face. He was intently watching every single thing you did. You knew he was.  When you finally decided to turn back, your eyes met his. They had never left you. He merely traded the view of your face for the back of your head and vice versa. Beneath the surface, you could see a myriad of emotions swirling within his eyes. He wasn’t as confident as he appeared. Wriothesley had worries, he had concerns. There was even what you felt was a twinge of doubt if you looked long enough. 
In turn, his eyes read and judged every emotion, every expression that you didn’t bother to hide. They saw your anger, your confusion, and even your own fear. You hadn’t fully acknowledged it yet, but you were every bit afraid as you were angry. In the span of a night, your life had become the property of someone else. He could do anything he wanted with it. You were powerless in stopping him from doing anything he wanted. Your current predicament was proof of that. “Look, I-” He let out another sigh. “I don’t want our first true interaction to happen this way. Please don’t be like this.” Please don’t fight. That’s what he meant. Just submit to his wishes and desires. Don’t make him beg, don’t make him force you. A not so impassioned plea from a man who was a stranger to you. He was trying his best to placate the fury that was radiating off your body, but the wound he had inflicted with his actions was far too fresh for it to work. “I’m happy to make nice with you. I’ll chalk the escape attempt up to the fact that you’re still adjusting. Perhaps I was being a tad unrealistic with how long it would take you to work through everything. Though-” There was a long pause after that. “in truth I would like an apology. You nearly burned half my face off with hot porridge.” He gestured to the side of his face as some sort of reference. You silently stared back, wishing you had. There was a chance you would have gotten away or at the very least put some much needed space between you and him. “Come on. I’m giving you an easy out here. Just apologize and we can move forward. It will make things easier for us both if you do. Believe me when I say that I would rather spend the limited time I do have with you doing anything else but fighting with or punishing you.” Swallowing, you silently noted that he was in for a rude awakening. “I would rather be at home, in my own bed. But we can’t always get what we want, can we?” A chill washed over the room. You weren’t sure if it was him or you, but you felt it all the same. “Instead I find myself at the mercy of a lunatic!” Your voice shook as the fear began to overtake your anger. The lack of food was fueling your desperation, which in turn was driving both your fear and your anger. You could feel yourself slowly losing control. It was a vicious cycle, which was reaching its conclusion at a rapid place. “I have no intention of playing this sick game of yours.” His entire body sagged in what you could only guess was disappointment.
“God-” He rubbed his scared eye with his free hand. “I truly didn’t think you would be this stubborn.” His hand fell back to his side as he stared at you with fondness. “It’s cute though. I like someone with a little bite to them. Makes things interesting. Still, I was hoping you would get the message right off the bat. But, if you insist we spend this time this way, then so be it. I will be all too happy to give you what you are so eager to earn.” He wrapped a length of chain around his hand, tightening what was left between you and him, pulling your arms towards the d-ring. You had to inch forward on your knees, just to ease some of the tension in your shoulders. “I will, out of the kindness of my heart, forgive earlier.  Before I left for my meeting I did tell you that you could be upset with me and in that spirit, I suppose you were only doing as you were told. I can’t fault you for it.” He wrapped another length around his hand, pulling the chain even tighter and you ever closer. “Just now though.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he silently recalled what had just transpired. “I’m afraid I can’t forgive that. Refusals, altercations, and escape attempts are strictly forbidden from here on out. As I mentioned, you are the master of your own treatment. Behave and we can co-exist peacefully. I might even consider special privileges if I’m convinced you’re sincere in your behavior.” Refuse him or fight him or even try to escape him and you would end up where you were now or possibly somewhere far worse. 
In retrospect, you knew your current predicament was fairly mild compared to the ways he could make you suffer. Humiliation, starvation, degradation, and pain were only the first steps. There were bones that hadn’t been shattered, flesh that hadn't been marked, limbs that hadn’t been removed. You and he had a long way to go before you reached the point of no return, and that’s if you ever got there. In the back of your mind, you knew you wouldn’t last that long. He would break you long before you ever got to that point. “Am I being clear?” “What-” Tears stung at your eyes for the first time, closing your throat and forcing you to momentarily choke on your own words. You didn’t want to admit defeat so easily, but what other choice did you have? This was his world. Even if you managed to get free, no one within the fortress or outside of it would help you. He could easily send the guardes or even himself after you. The general population of Fontaine wouldn’t question why a fugitive from the fortress was being hunted. The assumption would be you were just another escaped convict. A threat that the Duke himself felt he needed to personally handle. 
It was only then that you realized your disappearance probably hadn’t even been noted. It had been the weekend when you had gone out. Work had been tiresome and the promise of a day off meant you had the chance to blow off some much needed steam. With that in mind, there would be no one to miss you if you didn’t show up the next day. Same for the day after. By the time you did have to return to work, Wriothesley would have had plenty of time to cover your tracks. He could make your disappearance seem quite ordinary. Maybe you had run away to Sumeru, you had been talking about it or perhaps that serial killer got you. Wouldn’t that give your co-workers something to talk about? Maybe no one would even notice. People came and went from your place of work everyday. It wasn’t that unusual for someone to be there one day and gone the next. The reality of that hit you harder than the sedative had. No one could help you. No one would save you. Not a single soul, outside of those involved, knew you were here. No one, outside of the man standing above you, cared.
You choked back a sob as that information sunk in. It was loud enough and perhaps distraught enough that Wriothesley drew his brows together in genuine concern. From your vantage point you could see he wanted to check on you, to ask if you were alright, but he held his tongue. He just stood there, staring at you as hot tears spilled freely down your cheeks. “What do you want?” A pregnant pause followed that. As if the answer was stupidly obvious to everyone, except you. 
“I would think that is rather plain.” You looked up at him again through tear stained lashes, sniffling as he moved closer. “I want you.” Your throat bobbed, thickly swallowing the rising panic that was filling your body. You racked your brain, trying to think of any reason as to how or why this happened. How had an excuse me, an introduction, and have a nice day translated into you being in chains at his feet? The encounter between you had only lasted seconds. In your own mind, there was no feasible way a chance meeting could have this result, unless the meeting itself wasn’t by chance. 
Your eyes flew back to his face as your mind began to put all the puzzle pieces together. Chocolates, flowers, perfumes, and even lingerie had been sent to you in droves over the course of the year. Your mind whirled, suddenly recalling all the other strange or odd occurrences that had happened, especially in the last few weeks or so. The feeling of eyes watching you everywhere you would go. Strangers scribbling notes when they thought you weren’t looking. Your clothes, namely your underwear turning up missing every time you took your things to the laundress. The door to your apartment being unlocked despite you remembering that you had locked it. God. Your eyes got wider as the full picture came together. A year. Oh god, he had been watching you for a year.  “Look who finally figured it out.” 
On instinct, you tried to pull away, but his foot slamming down on the chain brought that plan to a decided halt. Your body jerked with the chain, a frustrated whine escaping your throat as you continued to struggle against the cuffs. Escape in this case was utterly futile. You knew that. The chain that was connected to your wrists was firmly in his hand. Even if you managed to get away from him, the room you were in only had one visible door; the chamber from which you had just come. The exit you could not see, the one that would take you to the rest of the fortress was almost assuredly locked. Then there was the fortress itself. A maze of locked doors and heavy bars. If the building itself didn’t stop you, then the guardes most certainly would. All Wriothesley needed to do was raise the alarm and he could have your right back where you were now in a matter of minutes. “You know-” Your eyes met his again, noting the hints of malice that were beginning to swirl in the icy blue depths. “I never believed that you didn’t fully know.” He leaned down, resting an arm on his thigh as the slack portion of the chain rattled in the background. “I told myself that no one was that unobservant of their surroundings.” A soft chuckle slipped past his lips. “I’ll be damned if you didn’t prove me wrong. Seems like all those nights where my anxiety kept me awake were in vain. You had no clue, did you?” He furrowed his brow, gently chuckling again. “Did you ever think to ask? Did you just assume someone was sending you gifts and that would be that?” You wanted to slap the smirk off his face, maybe leave another scar while you were at it. “Of course I asked.” Since you couldn’t slap him, you tried to add some venom to your voice, hoping it would compensate for your lack of movement. “I spoke to the couriers and the stores. No one knew. They all said the same thing. All the orders had come with the necessary payment by mail via an unmarked envelope.” There had been no indication of where the letters had originated from. The only thing worth noting about them was the simple stationary on which they had come. The paper lacked the ornate embellishment that was associated with the upper class, yet the paper itself was of a high enough quality that you could discern the sender had money. That theory had been further proven based on the gifts he had sent. Everything you had received was from the finest shops in the Court and of the highest quality. They had all cost well above what the average admirer could spend. That had told you that your devotee was at least well to do. Wriothesley, as the Duke of Meropide, was certainly that. “I thought that when my admirer was ready, they might be normal and present themselves properly.” Not have you abducted and brought to the bottom of the sea. “Because that would have gone oh so well.” He tilted his head slightly. “I’m sure that I’m exactly what you were expecting, hm?” He wasn’t. 
You let out a heavy sigh, trying to ignore the obvious. Wriothesley had been the last person you had been expecting. Worse though, was the thought of the Administrator of the Fortress coming to your door for no explicable reason. Even with flowers in hand, the idea was a terrifying one. The Duke of Meropide wasn’t exactly a celebrated figure in the eyes of the citizens of Fontaine. While his rise to prominence certainly made him an enigma, the few that knew what he looked like, tended to avoid him at all costs. To see the Duke or any officers of the law on your street was often a sign that trouble was soon to follow. If you had known that Wriothesley was your admirer or if he had shown himself to be interested in you in a normal way, it was entirely likely that you would have run. Even knowing that you had committed no crimes in the eyes of the law, the risk of having him so close was one you didn’t want to take. The goal of every citizen was to avoid the fortress and all of those associated with it. You weren’t excluded from that. “See the dilemma?” Your first reaction was to fix your eyes to the floor, while you felt the first twinges of embarrassment creep their way up your neck. “Kid- kidnapping isn’t exactly a viable solution.” You raised your eyes to him again, trying to make that sound as harsh as possible. “Neither is this, for the record.” He just laughed. “If we’re adding things to the record, then throwing hot porridge in the administrator's face isn’t exactly the smartest of moves. Neither is disobeying my orders or trying to escape.” You squirmed, stupidly pulling on the chain as your own frustration spiked. “I’ve done nothing wrong!” He laughed again. This time, his laughter echoed off the walls, hurting your ears. 
“You hadn’t done anything wrong.” Until you threw the food in his face, and kicked him, and disobeyed him, and tried to escape. “I don’t think I need to list the crimes for you. I’m sure you’re aware.” Crimes? Your mind whirled at the very mention of the word. It was inconceivable to think that you had done anything wrong.
Fresh tears stung at your eyes as the frustration his words caused you, washed over you. No. It couldn’t be. You were innocent. He had abducted you. He had tricked you. You weren’t his prisoner. “But as the administrator of the fortress, it is at my discretion on how you are punished.” Wriothesley stood to his full height, reaching for something in his pocket. “Unfortunately for you, I don’t have time to deal with that.” He produced a medium sized lock, which was promptly attached to the chain and the d-ring, forcing you to hold your position at his feet. “I have more meetings. I suppose for now-” He mockingly thought about it for a moment. “Your punishment can be that you get to think about how you’re going to make it up to me or maybe, you reconsider your attitude. If not, then perhaps I’ll have to get slightly more strict with you.” From your vantage point, you watched his eyes drift away from you, focusing on something behind you. There was only one thing that could be; the room you’d woken up in, the bed. “Seems cruel to consider.” Your eyes went wide at the thoughts that were running through your head. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. “I’d hate to do it.” Wait. “But maybe I was too nice at the beginning.” No. “Maybe I’ll just leave that with you though.” His focus came back to you. “Based on your expression, you get my meaning. Persist on your current path though-” His tone developed a steely, authoritative hardness to it that you didn’t like. “And perhaps I’ll go against my better judgment and make you earn things like a bed and hot food, at least until I can be assured that you don’t need too. That’s if I can be assured at all.” You blindly shook your head as you realized this man intended to keep you indebted to him for the rest of your life. “No? Well-” There was an odd chuckle that followed that. “Tell you what.” A long pause stretched out between you. He waited, oh so patiently for you to finally look up at him before he opted to continue. “I might be inclined to go easy on you. If you decide you’re ready to behave.” If. It had the same inflection as before, though this one possessed more doubt than its predecessor had “Let’s test the waters. I’ll give you something easy, something simple. I bet you couldn’t take more than that, could you? By now, I’m sure you’re feeling a little drained.” There was a brief moment where you thought to challenge him on that. Drained wasn’t the right word for it. Exhausted maybe? Famished and dehydrated; absolutely. In your mind though, you believed you could take all he threw at you and more, but your cramping stomach and oncoming dizziness told you otherwise. Your body had been taken to its physical limit. It couldn’t handle anything more; not without getting food into you first. “Let’s try… you giving me a smile again. That seems like a simple thing. I’ll even sweeten the deal. Give me a smile and I’ll bring you a little something to eat. I bet you’re pretty starved by now. Some fresh bread or maybe even some fruit, surely that’s enough to get me a smile?” It shouldn’t have been. In any normal circumstance, it wouldn’t have been. Had you been back in the court, you wouldn’t have given him the time of day. But here, in his world, you didn’t have that luxury. Here he could determine every detail of your life, including when you ate next. Considering you had already gone a day, you briefly wondered how cruel he could be. Wriothesley ran both hot and cold. His reactions shifted between the two with frightening regularity. It made him difficult to read in a situation like this, which was why you had to consider your answer carefully. 
There was no winning here, you knew that. Wriothesley had stacked the deck against you long before your kidnapping and arrival. Now he’d dealt you the losing hand he’d prepared for you.  If you refused, would he cave due to his own feelings for you and bring you a meal anyway or would he demand an even higher toll for your next meal? Would he let you starve if you refused to pay that price? How many meals would he allow you to miss before the inevitable happened. How many could you stand to miss before you yourself gave in? Upon further review, a smile was easy. It was simple. It wouldn’t tax your fatigued state any further. You could just give it to him to make him go, but again that carried risk. Once meant always. Always meant forever. There would never be a time where you would be able to refuse him without running the risk of being punished. One frown could send you right back to where you were. “Well?” You didn’t want to. 
“I-“ You drew in a slow steadying breath, trying to calm the emotions that were running through you. At this stage, you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, you wanted to lunge at him and you wanted to do it, all at once. You couldn’t though. Even if you felt like you were drowning, you couldn’t give in just yet. For now, you had to remain in control. “I hate you.”  Above you, he released an incredulous scoff.
“Believe me, I’m aware.” His nonchalance about this whole thing only served to irritate you further. He was acting as if everything that had happened between you was a normal thing. As if he kidnapped and manhandled and humiliated people everyday.
“So why should I smile at you if I hate you?” You swallowed as your eyes found his again. He towered over you, giving the answer very little thought.
“Because I asked you too.” You hated how his tone sounded almost thoughtful. “Let me be perfectly clear, unless the world is about to end or you are deathly ill, I will be your sole companion here. That means you will rely on me for everything.” And the fruits of that reliance were determined based on how well behaved you were. In his words, you were the master in your own treatment, which meant you decided your own fate. “We can keep on this path, if you like. I can play the mean warden just as easily as I can the affable fellow. It makes no difference to me how we get there, just so long as you understand we will get there in the end. One day those defenses of yours will crumble and that anger you currently feel will give way to something else.” Was he implying you would fall in love with him? “It happens to everyone down here. Some get angry, some are perfectly fine with it.” “I will never be fine with it or this.”  He smirked again, a gentle spark of mirth dancing in his eyes. “We’ll see. I tend to have a pretty good handle on people, especially when it comes to how they’re going to react to certain things. You’re no exception.” His head tilted slightly. “But keep telling yourself whatever you need to keep that fire in you burning.  I’m beginning to find your anger endearing. You’re cute with your face all scrunched up like that.” He chuckled, his smirk growing larger when the sound only served to make you angrier. “Maybe I’ll lock down the pankration ring one day, just so we can spar. It might be fun to turn you loose for a little while, if for no other reason other than to get my hands on you.  But I suppose that depends on one thing?” You let out a heavy breath, grinding your teeth in mild frustration. “What?” “Will you smile or not?”
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