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#my emotional support trope
maesterchill · 11 months
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WIP Snip Tuesday
(it can be a thing!)
Thanks for the tags @tackytigerfic and @wolfpants - your snippets were a delight! Find them here and here. I'll post a snip from the fic I attempted to write for Wireless, but never got even close to finishing. Perhaps some day.
It was after a raid on Dervish and Banges two months later that Harry saw Malfoy again. After he and Ron had arrested the illegal artefact dealers and had them Portkeyed into custody, Harry went for a little walk through Hogsmeade village. 
He hadn't intended on Madam Puddifoots as his destination. Not consciously at least, but he realised after five minutes that his feet had led him there. It might have had something to do with Malfoy standing outside the entrance on a stepladder stretching for something with his wand.  Over-stretching by the look of it—Malfoy’s jumper was riding right up his back, and he’d gone up onto his tiptoes. 
"Careful!" Harry shouted, to which Malfoy startled, and wobbled, and tried to right himself, and then wobbled some more, until finally the stepladder tipped over, bringing Malfoy down with it.
Thankfully Harry had one of those new wand holsters. Nought to spellcasting in zero point four seconds, or so the saleswix said. It was thus he managed to soften Malfoy’s fall with a speedy Cushioning Charm. 
Was Malfoy grateful? No, of course he bloody wasn't. Shouting at Harry and calling him all manner of offensive names, and Harry had certainly never heard Godric Gryffindor’s name used in such an imaginative and crude way before. It was kind of impressive.
Harry wasn’t sure what he’d expected from Draco Malfoy really and put his hands up in an I surrender fashion. Malfoy stopped his tirade and scowled, picking up his wand and pocketing it. His cheeks were pink, and they ballooned as he blew warm air onto his hands.
“Sorry, Malfoy, it looked like you were about to fall, so I thought—”
“You thought you’d make sure that I did by roaring at me at full volume.”
“Well, no, that wasn’t my… Listen, can I buy you a drink to apologise?” Harry was as surprised as Malfoy looked by that question. It was clear neither of them had been expecting it.
Malfoy frowned. “It’s quite obvious that I’m working, Potter. Besides, as an employee, I get all the free tea I like, so I’m really not that thirsty.”
“Alright, fair enough. Well, I’m heading to the Three Broomsticks now for a butterbeer or three, so if you get off soon and you change your mind—”
“I’m not off for another forty minutes, so I…” He paused and fiddled with his scarf, pulling it tighter around his neck. “Anyway, I’m not sure your girlfriend would be too impressed, you buying drinks for someone like—”
“I’m single, actually. Have been for a few months. But that’s not— This isn’t a date," Harry laughed. Perhaps a little too loudly. "I just wanted to say sorry for giving you a fright. So, yeah, pop over when you're done. I should still be there.”
“Oh.” More scarf-twisting. “I see. Well, I shall think about it.”
“Do,” Harry said, feeling pleased for some reason. Walking away with a whistle.
Malfoy never showed up. 
Which was a relief really, Harry thought as he went to bed that evening. He would’ve had to have had a conversation with him, and that would just have been awkward. 
It was just, well Harry’d been wondering why Malfoy worked at Puddifoots, of all places. Wondering for a while.
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chippedcupwrites · 9 months
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Trainspotting + Tv Tropes : Francis "Franco" Begbie ( Renton | Sick Boy | Spud )
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mytardisisparked · 9 months
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Leverage: Redemption is p good, but it's missing the funky jazz music that's supposed to play while Eliot beats the crap outta bad guys.
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never-enough-whump · 2 years
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Let's hear it for characters who are tough but not strong.
Characters who are so well suited to a rugged lifestyle. They'll walk for days without complaint. They'll thrive on the bare minimum of food and water. Sleeping on the ground? That's quite comfortable, actually! But the one catch is that they couldn't pick up and carry their teammate to safety.
Characters who aren't the big, buff fighty types, but they aren't the sad, pathetic limp-noodle type either.
Characters who can go through hell with a smile on their face but couldn't fight to save their life.
Characters who are all pain tolerance and no muscle mass.
Give them something heavy to carry over a long distance and they just can't do it. It's too heavy, they aren't strong enough. But they'll take a beating for their failure without so much as a whimper.
Characters who are in so much pain, constantly, that it's just become background noise and they're living life as if it wasn't there.
Caretakers who whumpee knows are never going to be a threat to whumper, but who love whumpee so fiercely and are so determined to keep whumpee safe that whumpee feels protected anyway.
Characters who will break down crying over how hopeless everything seems, who will think they can't keep going like this. Then they wipe away the tears and they do keep going. Characters who endure and survive because they have no other choice.
Quiet, steady characters who are weak and fragile physically but have the most mental fortitude you've ever fucking seen.
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3gremlins · 6 months
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do you ever think about that villain trope of them sitting in a chair stroking a cat and wonder if maybe the cat is their emotional support animal and they're actually deeply anxious about the villainous monologue they're about to give (or possibly also, they weren't planning on giving the monologue sitting but the cat came and sat there and now they're stuck there)
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devilrose · 1 year
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the centurion and mystic from slay the spire... they are best friends
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vaguely-concerned · 1 year
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I’m collecting Jigen expressions from part 3
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This one makes me so incandescently happy. I cannot explain it but just... look at him. look at his little :> face.
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(doing the most insane shit you’ve ever seen, e.g. spreading amnesia-inducing soap bubbles from the exhaust pipe of a motorbike while dressed up as an village people) eh it’s a living
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:}
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a celebration of the genuinely kind of weird amount of diving-based content in the first five episodes or so of part 3
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less go less go less go fhsdjkfas part 3 gets so delightfully cartoony and theatrical in the animation sometimes
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:o (also not to be that guy but they reused this exact animation two episodes apart and I want it noted that I noticed it)
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Jigen Is Not Impressed
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some jigen smiles for the soul
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I’ve seen this out of context several times but it makes SO much sense once you know he’s essentially meeting up with an old flame lol. (an old dilf flame, to top it off. also this guy clearly did honestly care about him and seemed happy to see him despite the whole unrelated treason business so I guess... on the scale of jigen’s evil exes this guy is a high scorer? the bar is extremely low I will acknowledge)
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I love how calm and comfortable he seems in part 3, it really lets the Absolute Scamp energy shine through the normal veil of nerves, cigarette smoke, depression and alcoholism. this man wears green socks and has stopped caring about anything except lupin and living for the lols. I’m so proud of him
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Get Partner To Safety Protocol
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just gently, tenderly cradling my homie in his dying moments after we had a heartfelt moment where I spared him and told him he still has the choice to be a better man, the man I remember him being when we... uh no homo bro
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Can u believe there are people in this world who in all earnestness think this man is straight. like. I don't know what to say anymore
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wishful thinking there buddy
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special freakout jigen corner (also love fujiko grabbing on to lupin’s tie for balance)
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my handsome lad!!
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lil-vibes · 1 year
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dazai and chuuya sharing a bed or a sleeping space is so dear and precious to me bro put it in a fic and im ON that shit like a house cat at 5am in the mornig climbing your legs for food
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whumpy-wyrms · 1 month
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rereading TLLR for like the first time and damn this series is amazing it’s got all my favorite tropes and everything wow the author sure has good taste. wait i wrote this? i wrote this???? that’s so crazy
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sailxrmxrs · 1 year
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hello it is i, your resident fantasy au enjoyer anna reporting in with yet another fantasy fic. giving rory the fantasy au treatment bc the beloved boy deserves the beloved au hehe. filled with some of my favourite tropes too bc i've been reading a lot of books to fuel the brainrot. i am suffering (in a good way). for today's instalment of the fantasy aus, mc and rory are informants working undercover for the queen in search of a rebel faction. very important very exciting. oh and part of the whole undercover thing is they're pretending to be married. everything they do is fake and pretend. no real feelings whatsoever. simply a falsified display as part of their cover story. nothing else at all. lmao kidding they're madly in love but won't admit it. secretly pining but also definitely not pining. only the most delicious brainrot being served here. enjoy. also a note that there's some mild violence/injury towards the end but nothing too wild.
A hum of jovial energy filled the crowded tavern, its dark oak tables crowded with patrons and piled high with empty tankards. There was no shortage of celebration that night, the townsfolk spending their hard-earned coin on whatever ales and meads the tavern staff had to offer. The booming shouts and cheers of the rowdier patrons, along with the thrum of general chatter from the more reserved of tables provided the perfect cover to divulge one's secrets; cautious whispers were nothing in their wake. And who would ever suspect the quiet couple sitting in the corner, nursing their drinks as they intertwined hands across the tabletops. Who could ever assume that those glazed eyes and withdrawn smiles were anything other than the expected behaviour of newlyweds drowning in the other's presence, entirely numb to the world around them. Surely such an unsuspecting pair could never be working undercover for the queen with directives to root out a faction of rebels seeking to overthrow her reign. Yes, as much as you hated to admit it, pretending to be freshly married to your colleague had proved to be the perfect cover story. Where before someone might suspect the lone ranger shrouded in the shadows of their cloak, no one paid a second look to the couple with stars in their eyes nor did they doubt their intentions. If only you had been assigned the task with a more agreeable person.
Rory was not the worst of your potential partners for such a mission. Of the other informants of the castle, Rory was one of the best at his job but his hamartia was his disagreeable personality. He was all stern looks and entirely too serious. For most, there was a time and place to let your guard down or shed the hyper-awareness that being an informant entailed. Not for Rory. Even in the privacy of your company he remained as high strung as ever. Still, despite his hardened exterior you would happily accept Rory over some of the less pleasant options. Especially given the fact he'd proved himself to be exceptional in the role of doting husband. Even tucked away in the corner of the busy tavern, his hand was wrapped in his. He hadn't paused the gentle back-and-forth of his thumb against the back of your hand since arriving. It had taken some getting used to the way his movements synced with yours, mirroring every step with expert ease. Now the tender touches felt almost like second nature. Almost. You were treading a fine line here, precariously walking atop a wire looming over a deep abyssal pit. Getting too comfortable here would only end in the coldest of pains when the job was done and you returned to the castle and continued as normal. There was no doubt that once you'd finished receiving ample information and had reported to your superiors that Rory would go back to acting as he'd always done—as though you didn't exist. It wasn't anything personal. That was just how Rory was. He'd explained one night that he simply didn't care for upholding relationships when his job meant that he was putting his life on the line with every excursion beyond the castle grounds.
While his reasons were understandable, it didn't make Rory's apparent disdain for casual conversation any less vexing. When you'd tried to spend a few minutes savouring the plate of hot food before you, Rory had instead leapt straight into strategy discussions, admonishing you for your lack of concentration. He'd grumbled to himself when you quipped back that you were focusing perfectly fine on monitoring the comes and goings of tavern patrons. Rory quietened on the matter, opting to trust that you weren't letting yourself grow complacent even in the seemingly uneventful night that descended upon the tavern. Nothing seemed out of place nor concerning, though that was no excuse to let your guard down.
"Everything seems clear tonight. Tomorrow we should make our move for the next town over," Rory instructed as his eyes focused on you, a perfectly composed smile on his face—it looked as though it came as naturally to him as breathing.
"Works for me. Although I believe the morning market could be a veritable source of information. We might be able to find a lead or two if we're lucky."
"I suppose replenishing a few supplies couldn't hurt either," Rory replied. He let his gaze flicker to the tavern door every so often, each look only lasting a split second before he returned his attention to you.
Looking over the drained remnants of your tankard, you let out a yawn. "Should we perhaps retire to our room for the night? We'll need to be up and out around sunrise if we want to do one last scope of the area." Rory nodded in agreement, stepping out from the booth and reaching for your hand to help you up. He guided you through the crowd, a protective touch on your waist that tightened whenever someone edged closer. He truly pulled off his role excellently. Almost a little too well. If you didn't know better, you'd be beginning to suspect that this was all practiced behaviour with a loved one back at the castle. Still, wherever he learnt it didn't matter, just the fact that he was convincing enough to everyone around the both of you. By the time you returned to your shared room, sleep was lurking ever closer. So close, in fact, that you barely even registered each beat of movement that led you into the bed, Rory following close behind. Part of the pretence of being married meant being confined to the same room and same bed, though traveling together had left you both desensitised to it all. Still, it didn't make you any less flustered waking up to Rory's nose a hair's breadth away from yours. Luckily he always rose after you, giving you a precious few moments alone to compose yourself. Appearing anything less than composed would no doubt earn a scathing remark from Rory.
Morning arrived in what felt like no time at all, the sun peeking over the rolling hills of the horizon. Sunlight poured over your skin, gently warming it in the morning chill that struck in those early hours. The town streets were mostly quiet save for the early risers setting up their stalls before the bustling marketgoers arrived. Rory was surveying one half of the town while you searched the other for anything out of place or anyone that arose suspicion. So far all seemed to be in order, although there was no telling who might show their faces when the streets were bustling with people, believing that the crowds could hide their nefarious intentions. Upon reuniting with Rory, he shared his own lack of activity outside of the expected. It was then, as Rory detailed the plan for the day, that you recognised a face across the market square. It was undeniably the exact man who'd disappeared from the castle grounds just two weeks ago without a trace save for the correspondences to an unnamed individual sitting in the ashy remnants of his fireplace. Most of it was indecipherable, fire having burned away the words but there had been one singular letter that remained unscathed enough to arouse suspicion. And seeing him in this part of the kingdom only incriminated him further.
"No sudden movements. But I just found us our biggest lead yet," you informed Rory, as he slowly turned his head to follow your line of sight. Recognition settled over his features, alarming concern creasing his forehead.
"If we're recognised we're as good as dead. We find higher ground and keep eyes on him at all times. Wait until there's more people around before tailing him. Crowds make the perfect cover."
"Then we better move and move fast. He's turning this way." Urgency rang in your voice, eyes searching for the most conspicuous way out.
"You trust me?" Rory whispered, offering no other context.
Slightly bewildered by the sudden question, you faltered for a moment before answering. "Well, yes. But I don't see what—" And then Rory's hand was on your waist, the other cradling your chin as he leaned so incredibly close. His breath was warm on your cheek, though that could have easily been your face burning under the close proximity. Then his lips were ghosting over your jaw, the frame of his body concealing your from any onlookers. If anyone spared a glance all they would see was an amorous display between unidentifiable lovers. The seconds dragged like hours, your heart pounding so hard in your chest that you feared Rory might be able to feel it. Of all the pretences you'd put on together, this was by far the most daring. He hadn't gone further than a tight grip on your waist or the press of a kiss to your temple. His lips were barely touching your skin and yet you could feel electricity striking your skin for every moment he lingered. Not to mention the way his hands held you firmly in place. It was all so dizzying you were dangerously close to forgetting exactly what your mission here was.
"Coast clear?" He asked, every whispered word brushing your ear with a delicate softness that almost made you forget who you were.
With a nervous clear of your throat, you managed to look past Rory's shoulder to find your target with his back to you once more. "We're safe."
There was roughly another hour before the marketplace would open to its customers, meaning there was an hour of waiting before you and Rory could set your plan into motion. After the close encounter, the two of you had separated from the other's embrace just enough to move out of the square and into a quiet alley. From there, you'd made your way to the rooftops, using a thick stone chimney to keep hidden from sight. It wasn't difficult to keep an eye on your target, his own movements clearly purposeful so as to blend in with the other market stall owners. Anything that made your job easier was a welcomed turn of events. That was, until Rory decided to strike up conversation, clearly deciding the threat level was low enough to break the deafening silence.
"You've been oddly quiet all morning. What's going on in that head of yours?" The question felt more like an accusation—a weighted statement so as to draw out every thought that swam in your mind.
"Normally you're complaining I talk too much and now I'm too quiet. What do you want from me, Rory?" Your reply sounded less relaxed than you'd intended, residual nerves shaking your voice a fraction.
"You're avoiding the question." He folded his arms, stubborn to a fault as he stared you down. "Ever since we saw... Wait, this isn't because of what I did earlier is it?"
You felt your cheeks begin to heat and could only pray they didn't betray you. "What? No! I'm just focusing. Much like you should be too."
"Don't think I don't know you well enough now to not know when you're lying. I would've told you what I was doing if time was on our side but it was either I act fast or we get ourselves caught. Still, sorry about that."
You blinked, noting the rise of colour that seemed to appear on Rory's cheeks. It was faint, but you could've sworn it was there. "It's fine. You did what anyone should have done in the moment so don't apologise. Just took me a little off guard is all."
Rory relaxed a little, grateful he hadn't crossed a line or backed you into a corner you weren't willing to tread. Then, a rare smile grew as he tested just how far he could push you. "Don't tell me you got nervous. One of our finest informants and fighters in the branch and you got a little nervous over your partner getting too close? Thought you were stronger than that."
"Brave words from a man who was just blushing as he apologised. Really changed your tune there, didn't you? Still, it's of no matter to me. Think whatever you'd like to get yourself through the day."
"What I'm hearing here is that you wouldn't have reacted at all if I'd kissed you?"
You glared back at Rory's testing smile, hating the way your stomach twisted. You knew you had to choose your next words carefully, the thought of being caught lying already bruising your ego. "Who knows. Not like you had the gall to do it anyway."
"Oh? Is that a challenge? Or perhaps an invitation?" Rory edged closer, running a finger along your jawline before taking your chin in his hold and angling your face so that you couldn't avoid meeting his gaze. No words were spoken, just heated stares as though you were waiting for the other to crack first.
"Neither. It's a 'we better move or else we lose our lead'," you uttered, hand moving Rory's face so that he could see your target weaving through the crowd. Rory cursed, leaping up and into action. This was the first time you'd seen him taken by surprise and if you weren't in pursuit of a traitor to the crown, you'd be taking great joy in that fact. Weaving through the side streets, uneven bricks beneath your feet slowing your pursuit, Rory called an instruction from just ahead.
"We split up here. You continue on and I'll take a left down here. We surround him and wait for his contact to show up. Out of sight unless absolutely necessary."
"Sounds like a plan. Don't get yourself caught, beloved husband." Rory did little more than roll his eyes before running off down a side street, leaving you to continue down the cobblestones in the direction of your target. The road led to a series of seemingly abandoned buildings. Infrastructure was beginning to crumble in places, its inhabitants long gone for an undeterminable amount of time. There were no visitors to this side of town—the ideal place to rendezvous with one's conspirators. From the shadows, you had a clear sight of the man you'd been pursuing. He was speaking with someone you did not recognise, their face shrouded in shadow from the hood atop their head. Whoever this person was, they were doing little to conceal their desire to remain anonymous to any onlookers. Curious suspicion grew in the pit of your stomach, aching to edge closer so as to be in earshot but even one step forward could lead to being discovered. Across the way, you caught sight of Rory hiding from his own shadowed vantage point. He was closer to the suspicious characters and, hopefully, able to garner some useful information in the process.
As you crouched in the shadows, attention honed in on your target, you missed the person quietly approaching you from behind until it was far too late. When you heard their footsteps and twisted, dagger in hand, they were already upon you. The hilt of their own dagger collided with your chin, throwing you off your balance and striking the alarm of your targets. Shouts sounded along with heavy footsteps, no doubt your biggest lead making his escape. But that was not your greatest concern right now. What mattered more was finding your footing and fighting off your assailant.
"Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to eavesdrop? Suppose I'll have to be the one to do it then," he threatened, a sinister smile growing as he crept closer. He had the advantage of preparation on his side, but you weren't going to go down that easily. Your opponent was strong but you were quick, able to dodge his heavy handed attacks and strike any opening in his stance. Whoever he was, his grasp of strategy was weak, leaving far too many openings for you to kick and slash. That was, until you went for another opening only for his thick boots to strike your stomach and sending you crashing to the ground, winded from the attack. He loomed over your body, preparing to go for the kill with an arm raised until a throwing knife struck his wrist perfectly. Before you could dwell longer on the matter, you rolled to your feet. Rory was at your side in seconds and matching your stance.
"Took you long enough. Did our culprit run off?"
Rory chuckled, the sound devoid of any genuine humour. "He tried. Didn't get very far. Looks like you didn't do much beside almost get yourself killed."
"I had the situation under control, thank you very much."
"Sure you did. Were you just taking a nap on the ground then?"
You glared at him before lunging to deal with your attacker. You made quick work of him, his movements having slowed greatly thanks to Rory's expert aim. "You know I could just as easily throw this at your face to shut you up."
"Don't threaten me with a good time, beloved."
Once you'd taken care of your attacker and quiet settled over the scene once more, your pulse finally returned to normal. A series of aches ailed you, though none were cause for concern. It was nothing some rest wouldn't fix up. Whenever you had the freedom to rest, that was.
"You okay?" Rory's voice dropped lower as he came to stand in front of you, carefully inspecting you for any serious injuries.
"All good."
He raised an eyebrow, not fully trusting you were being completely honest with him. "This isn't one of those 'I'm going to be stoic and pretend I'm fine and then later I try and tend to my very much not fine injury' moments is it?"
"First of all, mildly offended. You're not entirely wrong, but I'm still mad about it. And second, no this is not one of those moments. Just a little tender in places. I can walk it off." Rory contemplated his next move as his eyes dragged up and down your frame.
"I swear if you even think about carrying me anyway I won't hesitate to cut the first appendage I can reach."
He raised his hands in innocent defeat. "Consider my thoughts blank, no carrying considered. Anymore."
With a roll of your eyes, you made to walk away until Rory's hand grasped your wrist. There was an earnest look in his eyes that you'd never seen from him before. He didn't speak for a moment, glancing at his feet before meeting your gaze once more.
"I'm glad you're okay. You worried me there for a moment." Sincerity laced every word he uttered, so quiet and heartfelt and only for your ears.
"Don't worry, you won't be left partnerless just yet." You tried to lighten the heavy atmosphere that had descended but Rory's expression didn't change. You'd seen him look serious, of course, but this was something else entirely. It was like a layer had been stripped back, shedding the wall he presented to the world and revealing another version of himself. One that allowed his weaknesses to be presented on full display. One that deeply trusted his company so much as to bear his every worry and burden without fear. It struck you to your very core, keeping you rooted in place and barely able to breathe let alone move.
"Good. How could I play the role of doting husband if you got yourself killed?" A gentle smile breached the final crack in his walls and let what remained of that outer shell come crashing down. A hand reached to cup your cheek, every callous and scar that marred his palm decorating the sensation of his gentle touch.
"I'm sure you'd figure out a way. Not that you'll need to just yet."
"Yet? I hope you're not planning for some martyr-like sacrifice. It would be unbecoming of you." Rory brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, smiling to himself as he no doubt felt the way your skin heated with the featherlike touch of his fingertips.
"We'll see." The words were so quiet, barely audible to either of you if not for the pindrop silence that had settled. There was no tearing your eyes away from Rory's, feeling yourself stumbling into the vast green that gazed back. This certainly wasn't the behaviour of two individuals pretending to be married. Not when the nearest person was far beyond the winding streets of the bustling market town. There wasn't a single soul to witness the display, and yet that didn't stop either of you from remaining there, both unable to tear yourselves away. Perhaps that would be the smartest thing to do. Feelings were messy; they got in the way and complicated matters to an incomprehensible degree. But maybe, just once, you could give in to the magnetic pull that reached into your heart and tugged. Just once wouldn't hurt, would it?
Clearing your throat, you tried to pour even an ounce of conviction into your voice. "What's the plan now? Find our man and get some information?"
"You're the boss. But first, there's another, more pressing matter to attend to." Rory didn't bother to offer any verbal clarification when your eyebrows knitted in confusion. Instead, he twined his fingers with yours, pulling you closer until his face was mere centimetres from yours. Every breath and blink felt like an eternity until that painfully small gap finally closed. Rory's lips was soft, tentative as they explored new territory. There was no going back from this but you didn't care. Maybe you should walk away and preserve what little remained of your self-restraint. Maybe you should continue letting yourself believe this was all for the sake of your cover. Or maybe you could enjoy it just a little while longer, believing the lie that every action leading up to this moment had been faked when every part of your soul said otherwise. Though nothing felt more real than this very point in time, Rory's gentle touch the only thing keeping you on the ground.
"Tell me what you're thinking," he whispered as his thumbs brushed the backs of your hands.
You shook your head, knowing there was no way you could even begin to string the tangled mess of emotions into coherent sentences for him. Another fleeting touch of a kiss was all you could offer before breathing in a deep sigh. "Words aren't quite enough to explain it. That, or I'm just a little too distracted to think of them right now."
Rory laughed, a beautiful sound that caressed your ears with each lilting cadence. "I think that's a first for you. Being rendered speechless, I mean. Cute."
You pulled your hands from Rory's and glared, only making him laugh harder. "Make fun all you want. I'm not the one making moves while on the job."
"Isn't that what this whole job has been? Me making moves and pretending I don't enjoy it as much as I do?" To say that was a loaded comment was an understatement. And it was one you could dwell on later under the cover of night where Rory would be none the wiser to your seemingly permanent flustered state of being.
"Ignoring that for now. We have actual work to do. Lead the way before I make you."
"Is that supposed to be a threat? Or a promise?"
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feartheoldblog · 2 years
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this is an incredibly casual post for a serious interp but as per usual i cannot take anything seriously
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potentially controversial take but i don’t think it was the case that gehr/man didn’t care about mar/ia and her feelings of guilt or take them seriously (take i’ve seen a lot or at least implied) but it was more that his own feelings about the hunt/massacre were so repressed that he just couldn’t ‘understand’ them
if he did consider her guilt (bad wording but i’m lazy rn) would mean he’d have to admit to himself that he’s been massacring people (beasts) for many years (decades possibly). he’d definitely have felt uncomfortable about doing this at the beginning of his career- after all, they’re beasts but they’re still incredibly humanoid (another post i’ll write at some point- laziness). to do his job effectively and protect ‘sane’ people, he couldn’t falter whatsoever. he needed no consideration for any possible humanity in those beasts to ‘protect yharnam’.
years, potentially decades of this thinking…
why is she concerned about the incident? we killed beasts as we’ve always done (if they were already feral fish people- another debate to be had), why is she upset this time? not really an ‘i don’t care about her feelings’ more a sort of ‘i don’t understand her feelings’.
idk if this makes sense i’m rambling and it’s taken me ages to get to the point but yes
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mazojo · 1 year
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Oh worm okay I see so this is gonna rewire my brain chemistry huh
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dcgfight · 1 year
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thinking about how easy it is to write iako off as the hotheaded jock type and she definitely leans into it naturally dont get me wrong like most of the kg she's Incredibly Pissed and yelling (and trying to brawl people) at class trials and then OOH OOH THE HEROES ARE FINALLY PUTTING CLUES TOGETHER and she just says something so out of the blue but so personal at the same time that it stalls everything and then focus on her?? pound pound pound just drives the nail in deeper while purposefully misdirecting the whole flow of the trial
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shackld · 1 year
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I'm going to bed as I've literally had so little sleep last night but I am v excited about my wip oc he is gonna be a little fuck of a man and I love him!
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honey-creek · 2 years
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What got you into dyde? It seems like such a random ship I’m intrigued
*someone* (i say bc I know exactly who sent me the anon now JSHEHSJ) decided to give me a challenge by picking a very random rarepair. I took it and RAN
this is the post I made in response to it back then:
And I have just been going downhill from there
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genderqueer-karma · 2 years
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me writing my fanfic wip: hm what if i diverged his neuros and also gave him at least two (2) anxiety disorders
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