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#not even really sure whom i could have caught it from if it's the plague
maple-the-awesome · 3 months
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He Becomes a Dad! || Part 1/2
PART 2
Pairing: Time, Four, Legend, Hyrule x Reader
Overview: Congratulations, you're new parents 🎉 Some of the Links are prepared. Others...might need a moment to gather themselves. But rest assured! At the end of the day, they're all going to get a handle on this whole dad thing. I'm a sucker for family tropes and there simply aren't enough out there for the Chain to quench my thirst, so here it is, I'm adding my contribution👍 Btw, there will be only two parts for this prompt since Wind will be excluded for obvious reasons. Baby making isn't a platonic activity🤷‍♀️
Zelda Masterlist 🩵Fandom Masterlist
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You only brought the topic of children up to your husband once. It was at some point during the early half of your marriage and after a particularly lengthy day of enduring Malon’s well-meant pestering. Time, beside being caught slightly off guard, delivered a straightforward answer:
“It wouldn’t feel right bringing kids into this world, especially when I would hardly be home to help you rear them.”
Now, you can’t lie and say you weren’t at all disappointed by this answer, although you wouldn’t say you had the rug completely pulled from beneath you. You understood the true implications behind Time’s statement right away. It’s the same reason he took so long to let himself marry you. It’s not you nor a disgust towards children, but rather an unspoken fear of building a life where he’s too happy - one that could be ripped away from him at a moment’s notice as has seemed to be the case for his younger years.
Although his worries are needless, you never pushed against his boundaries because you could at least see the sense in his argument. Sure, the idea of having children did always appeal to you deep down, however between Time’s constant traveling and your hard work helping at Lon Lon Ranch, it would be difficult to squeeze a family into the schedule. There was no sense in forcing him into a commitment he wasn’t ready for nor one you weren’t in a  position to properly foster.
Twelve years of blissful marriage passed before your plans changed. The blame lies with those other heroes, too. One would think traveling alongside a group of unruly young boys would’ve made someone more certain of their decision to never again subject themselves to such a headache, yet it apparently had the opposite effect on your dear husband.
Discovering first hand how much pride he could feel towards a descendant was life-altering, to put it light. Twilight was living proof that somewhere along the line, Time does something right. Whatever kids he might have will grow up to have children of their own and so on…Not to mention Twilight isn’t a terrible outcome by any means. To raise someone with the possibility of them turning out like him and to do so with you of all people? Well, needless to say, it was settled rather quickly after that: Time wanted kids.
Call it baby-fever if you will, but he was suddenly rather eager about the concept he had once avoided like the plague. He brought it up through not-so-subtly hints at first, then when you outright asked him if he was being serious, he went on a slightly nervous spew about your home being too quiet and how he could officially retire from traveling to be home more and it’s really a shame that you have an extra bedroom just sitting around - You just had to kiss him to shut him up which eventually led to…other things. Let’s just say you both got started right away.
It took you twelve years to realize you did indeed want kids yet less than a year to actually be holding them for the first time. It turns out even the universe was impatiently waiting for you both to come to your senses, so once you finally had, it decided to award you with not one, but two beautiful girls whom you affectionately named Saria after Time’s old friend and Mallory, a mix between melody and Malon, their ever-so-excited godmother.  
It’s safe to say that the twins are pretty spoiled. Malon has been over almost everyday, bringing you plenty of baked goods as a bribe to let her spend more time with her favorite goddaughters and you have practically every baby related item that you could need, courtesy of the Queen of Hyrule herself, but of course, it’s their parents who love them the most.
Never in his wildest dreams did Time think it would be possible to feel so at peace with the life he’s built. For so many years, he feared true happiness was impossible - that every turn would result in the same cruel fate he had been subjected to during most of his existence - and yet for the last couple of nights, he’s held it in his arms. He’s watched the moon rise outside his window while playing soft lullabies on his ocarina, you cuddled by his side with your daughters shared between you both. You wear a small smile even in sleep and he swears the girls match it, too; he definitely does himself…This is a priceless treasure he’ll give his life to protect.
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Four and you had already been married for a few years by the time you found out you’re pregnant. It’s not to say you were actively planning for it, although you also weren’t actively trying not to either. 
It had been agreed upon early in your relationship that kids would be nice should they come your way, therefore you were both equally excited that your wishes were finally being granted, so much so that the nursery was finished within the first month (courtesy of your handy husband). It’s painted in beautiful pastels that are easy on the eyes and decorated with many toys Four had hand-carved himself; a useful craft he’s now very appreciative towards Sky for teaching him.
Seeing as this was already a somewhat anticipated next step in your lives, Four’s pretty relaxed throughout the process despite its many challenges. For starters, pregnancy itself unfortunately isn't as much of a 'blessing' for you as some have made it sound. You’re rather sick from beginning to end. If it isn't your inability to keep food down (especially in the early stages) or your fluctuating blood pressure, then it’s the aching you constantly feel thanks to both your very heavy bump and extremely active baby who just loves to make sure you never forgot about their existence by kicking you as hard as possible day and night. 
Worry not. Four has made your struggles more bearable by being a darling husband through and through. He’s by your side during each doctor’s visit, does his own personal research on all things baby-related, and helps with every chore he can to give you at least some rest even if just for a quick nap, however most spectacularly, he does all of this without ever being too overbearing. 
Although certainly concerned for your health, Four can recognize your strength any day of the week, especially when you've been rolling with the punches like a warrior queen during such a draining pregnancy. Anxious, sure, but not afraid. Why would he be? He’s confident that you’re both prepared to face anything together! …That is, until you actually went into labor…
Yeah, remember that previously mentioned, relaxed and darling husband? Forget about him. Your water broke and so did Four's calm demeanor, but can he really be blamed? You went into labor early - and not just by a couple of days either. Oh no, we're talking a couple of weeks early. 
Regardless of his newfound fear, Four does his utmost best to still present himself as calm and collected in front of you, not wanting to freak you out any more than you’re already freaking out yourself. He first helped you lay down with plenty of pillows and cushions before running to get help. After that, he doesn’t leave your side, encouraging you throughout the process with a smile on his face, however don’t be fooled: the second you turn your head to the midwife’s voice or close your eyes to scream, your poor husband’s face reflects his inner thoughts as the situation fully begins to sink in. 'Scared shitless' - that's a good word to describe it; eyes wide in terror with a mouth that’s hung agape and slightly twisted in pain as your nails clawed into his hand.
As said, he never leaves your side - not even for a millisecond. You don’t have to worry about him being the type of guy to get grossed out by natural fluids or complain about your expressions of pain; none of that is remotely a concern of his. He’s just grateful to see you okay and even more so to hear his baby crying as they should.
A girl; small like her daddy, but healthy all things considered. Four couldn't wait to hold her, knowing damn well he was going to cry the second her soft skin touched his, but he isn’t ashamed of it in the slightest. Who wouldn’t cry holding something so precious?
Then you scream again. He thinks something must be wrong until the midwife announces that it isn’t over - that there are more squeezed in there waiting.
At the end of the day, you're just relieved to finally breathe easy without going through agonizing pain while Four, on the other hand, is left in shock staring at not one, not two, but three little babies, all healthy girls who wiggle and whimper in their parents' arms, but oh well. The nursery may have to be expanded, although there's plenty of love to go around. At least he can thank Hylia that it wasn’t quads (he's had enough of those).
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Legend and you have been in a relationship for several years, although you had mutually agreed earlier on that neither of you were big fans of the whole 'marriage' thing. What difference would a ceremony and piece of paper make, anyway? You already act as any officially married couple would. You live together, go on dates, occasionally argue, and even share a bed which is exactly what resulted in a recent, unplanned detour in your lives: a baby.
When you first told Legend the news, he panicked, asking himself all those stupid questions like ‘what now’ and ‘how could this have happened’ even though he knew damn well how. Then he left. Giving some half-assed excuse about needing fresh air, he turned his back to you despite your pleas and didn’t return for hours. 
Now, rest assured, he did immediately regret having that reaction and apologized for it as soon as he came home. He didn’t mean to scare you with the thought of abandonment, but as he would quietly confess during his apology, the thought of being a parent had just been too overwhelming in the moment. Neither of you had ever talked about having kids, and while he could at least have some peace of mind knowing you’ll obviously be a great mom, he fears that the same won’t be applied to him.
You have always been the light in a dim room, as Legend would put it. You’re fun, sweet, and amazing with kids. Any child of yours, planned or not, will love you with all of their heart exactly as he does. Meanwhile he’s stubborn, cranky, and the last kid to cross his path literally started sobbing. Maybe it had to do with him being covered in monster blood after just having crawled out of a dungeon but he’s pretty sure he traumatized a kid nonetheless…The thought of being just as bad around any kid you share together scares the crap out of him.
Deep, deep down, Legend’s actually somewhat excited to be a father. Although he’s too stubborn to admit it to anyone other than you, he’ll sometimes daydream about how nice it would be to tell a little replica of you both about all his adventures or to teach them how to use some of the items he’s collected over the years like his trusty boomerang. Seeing the excitement in their eyes would definitely be worth listening to you scold him afterwards. If that’s all there was to being a father, Legend wouldn’t have a single concern, yet it’s his insecurities that always have a habit of souring things. Would his kid actually find his stories cool or would they just be tempted to throw the boomerang right at his head?
You’ve done your best to reassure him, often falling back on the argument that the baby will be a part of him. Like father, like son, right? Legend was almost ready to believe you, too, especially upon laying eyes on his child for the first time. As you passed the tiny bundle over to him, he thought that maybe being a dad wasn’t going to be that scary after all, and it might not be so bad to even have more someday either…However, his worries were quick to return when the baby started screaming two seconds after being set into his arms…
Baby screams if he holds him. Baby whimpers if he looks at him for too long. Sometimes, Legend swears the thing starts crying simply by hearing his voice in another room. It doesn’t happen with anyone else, though. The baby just adores you as predicted, but what Legend can’t stand is the fact that the baby seems to like Ravio, of all annoyances, over his own dad.
He’s forced to watch as the little brat happily lets Ravio cradle him, the sight filling him with bitter jealousy and sorrow. You’re convinced that he’s just overthinking everything - that he should give himself time to adjust to his new position as a father instead of holding himself to unrealistic standards, but how long is he exactly supposed to wait until it clicks? It’s been a whole month already and he still feels as confused as day one! Will he ever get the hang of this whole dad-thing or is he a lost cause…?
If there’s any comfort Legend can have, it’s that even Ravio doesn’t know what to do with the baby once he starts crying, so at least he’s not alone in that aspect. The only problem is you’re busy making lunch and stubbornly refuse to pause your efforts. Instead, you shove a bottle over to Legend, insisting that he be the one to feed his son since it should be a ‘good bonding exercise’ for them. You won’t take ‘no’ for an answer and judging on your glare when he tries to protest, you probably wouldn’t be happy if he tries passing the task onto Ravio either.
Thus, Legend is left to awkwardly sit down and take the baby into his arms. He already knows it’s obvious he has no idea what he’s doing, Ravio doesn’t have to point it out, but luckily after some swift around, he manages to hold his son more securely against his chest before shoving the bottle in his face. The baby continues to fuss while turning his head away from the bottle, and Legend’s almost tempted to call for you in defeat until at last, the room falls silent.
Looking down, he watches in quiet awe as his son accepts his meal eagerly. His little hands quickly rise up, gripping onto Legend’s which holds the bottle in place. They’re so tiny; barely able to wrap around a single finger - Oh, and his eyes as well! They’re wide as he stares up at his dad with unbroken eye contact. It’s like a wordless conversation - one more valuable than any he’s heard before.
You return, offering to take your son now that your work is done, but Legend is quick to shake his head. Why don’t you take a well-deserved break while he handles this little troublemaker? It would be a shame to bother him when he looks so comfortable in daddy’s arms.
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You've been dating Hyrule for longer than either of you can really remember, however you aren’t in any big rush to get married, figuring that it would make no real difference in your commitment to each other. You love Hyrule and he loves you. What more is there to say? For a while there, you were both perfectly satisfied with simply taking things slow and letting fate decide your course, although more recently you’ve had to switch up that method to something more stable for the baby. Yes, a baby.
You wouldn’t necessarily call it a surprise, but you also can’t truthfully say it was planned either. You had agreed that kids might be nice if the goddesses ever blessed you with any in the future, however you weren’t exactly trying for them…You just weren’t being very careful…
Hyrule must admit he was rather nervous at the start. The only prior experience he really had around kids was with Wind, but there’s a pretty big difference between a young teen and newborn. Pair that with his not so ‘kid-friendly’ world and there’s plenty to worry over. Anything could happen, but Hyrule’s determined to be the best dad and partner he can.
First thing was first, of course: you needed a place to stay. Traveling is fun and you both enjoy being on the move, but that’s no life for a baby. Hyrule and you had actually already considered the idea of settling down someplace before, so you didn’t think of it as a massive loss to take off your adventure boots for a while. If anything, it was a welcomed change once you remembered how lovely it is to be able to kick your feet up for a rest or be surrounded by warmth during a terrible rainstorm.
Again, Hyrule takes his job as your partner very seriously which wasn’t ever a surprise to you. He found a small house for you both to rent in one of the safer villages around; a perfect place for raising a child. While he might not have a talent for decorating or making a place feel ‘homey’, he does thrive when it comes to making sure you’re comfortable, his spare rupees definitely going to fluffy wool blankets and a rickety rocking chair that he saw at a market.
Early on in the pregnancy, you noticed that your boyfriend also began showing a new found determination for cooking which did scare you a bit at first - Okay, so maybe a lot. Hyrule began taking cooking lessons from some kind elderly ladies in town who must have an endless pool of patience because while you can’t say every dish is a masterpiece (or even editable for that matter), you are happy to say Hyrule can now make things like toast and tomato soup successfully. It’s progress.
There aren’t a ton of doctors in your time and none in your village, so you have to take a lot of notes from local women regarding the process. Hearing all their stories and the possible ‘what if’s for what could go wrong made you anxious, especially once you finally go into labor, but it doesn’t faze Hyrule - not on the outside, anyway. He does an excellent job of swallowing his own fears for your peace of mind, talking you through each painful contraction and doing his best to distract you from it all until it comes time to start pushing.
Some people may get squeamish at the thought of childbirth, however Hyrule isn’t one of them. He’s fought through some terrifying dungeons and has bore witness to more than a few gory injuries over the years, so bodily fluids don’t bother him one bit. He’s kneeled down right in front of you without a second’s hesitation, multitasking between mentally reviewing what he’s been told to do and reassuring you even though he’s sure you don’t hear a word of it over your own screams.
One minute Hyrule’s encouraging you to keep pushing, the next he’s holding a small, crying baby in his arms. His movements after that feel almost automatic as he carefully cleans her off and just admires the fact that this baby - this tiny, precious gift of life is his. She’s yours and his and she’s beautiful despite having come into existence within such a broken world filled with more hardships than he could count…
Your tired voice brings him back to reality - asking if the baby you hear crying is okay. You clearly feel the same thing Hyrule does upon seeing your daughter for the first time, the two of you sitting side-by-side as you soak in this wonderful emotion. Hope...That’s what she represents. Hope for a brighter future...
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fiixer · 7 months
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@thatvigilante // starter call - Gavin
You better be right about this one, Pearce...
The text sat unread for much of the morning, since Aiden first turned down the gig.  That was nothing new.  Lately it seemed he'd been accepting fewer for himself and instead opting to aid where possible, though this time, he'd claimed to have some sort of prior engagements, whatever the hell that meant.  It wasn't Jordi's place to question it; he had, but that was beside the point.  What really threw Jordi for a loop, though, was the near-instant suggestion of a replacement.  In all the time the two had worked together, Aiden never offered to fill his place on occasions where he'd refused a job, so needless to say, it caught Jordi's intrigue.  
That intrigue was the only reason he'd even entertained the idea.  Jordi has a plethora of his own people to call in a pinch, all of whom would gladly jump the moment his name popped up on their phone. And yet, he's staring at a text that's nothing more than a string of numbers.  A phone number. Aiden insisted the guy was good, that he'd see it through and get the job done.  Whether there was even a grain of truth in that, or Aiden was simply trying to get Jordi off his back remained to be seen.  It's a risky gamble to take when so much cash was on the line, not to mention his reputation...but Jordi has never been one to play it safe.
Besides, it's not like there is a world of time to kill with this; the mark had a plan to move on, to New York if he wasn't mistaken, and none of his contacts could figure out when. While that didn't necessarily spell disaster as far as the job was concerned, it did add a certain air of urgency, meaning it took priority and he had to make a choice. Now.
Pacing the length of his hotel room, shielded from the disgusting humidity still plaguing the city well into the early evening, he's weighing the options, going back and forth, but ultimately, the decision is already made.  It's weird to think he trusts Aiden's word enough to risk so much on it - especially when the information provided was I know a guy and nothing more - but there he was, tapping the number anyway, breathing a resigned sigh to the tune of monotonous ringing in his ear. The gears are turning in mind; how best to protect everything he's got on the line, but he has to remember, first thing's first...
The ringing stops, and he doesn't wait, because if this guy turned him down, he'd have to call someone else as soon as possible - or get on the road himself to find the asshole they're after. Neither option sounds great, but he'll do what he has to, if it comes down to crossing that bridge.
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" Hey, what's up, how's it going, how's the night, fuck the pleasantry bullshit, I'd rather get straight to the point, but... I also wanna make sure I've got the right guy here." Rattled off quickly while his pacing continues, while the fingers of his free hand absently trace various objects in passing. When it continues, there's a mockery of geniality dripping from his tone, edged by a certain impatience that often came with this sort of nonsense. "Soooo, who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"
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you’re insecure, don’t know what for.
*tw: mentions of an eating disorder*
when i first met zara, i had no idea what i was getting myself into.
she was an art student. insanely talented. i struggled to even kick a ball around a field. like having that as a career even mattered to me. i only did it so i couldn’t get into drugs. i wasn’t a glaring disappointment to my parents. but i didn’t exactly have a clear direction. pft. i didn’t care. i just needed something to do with my life.
zara had tattoos all over herself. jet black hair that she would occasionally dye blonde at the tips. carried a vape pen on her key ring, next to her car keys. thick smoke coming out of her nose and mouth like a mythical dragon everytime i saw her walking down the hall. like a veil to mask all of her insecurities. very quiet kid. i feared that i would be coming off too strong towards her.
i had a name that nobody could spell, except for zara, cause she was used to exotic names. her whole family had names that i couldn’t even pronounce. niamh. it was an irish name, cause that’s where my family hailed from. might as well carry on the bloodline, the heritage that they were most proud of, that they beat into my bloody skull for umpteen years. insecurities never plagued me like they did to zara. until i met her and all of her family, my name was probably the one thing i was most insecure of.
i was always that bouncy kid, eager, enthusiastic, never able to shut up. had a scratchy voice that was an earsore to everyone within earshot. funny how i was never insecure of it. had brunette hair that was dyed blonde at the tips. sometimes i wondered if zara dyed her hair solely for it to look like mine.
when i first spoke to her, her voice was gentle, almost broken-sounding, as if she were on the cusp of coughing her lungs out. i feared that i would sound too arrogant to her, but instead, she sounded quite arrogant towards me, asking me “who are you?” and “what are you doing here?” yet only in her silent gaze. little did i know that it was only what she considered a safe cover-up, to hide her fear, her anxiety.
she was very insecure about herself. hence the tattoos, hence the dyed hair. hence the piercings that she would eventually get. she hated her body, her mind. she never saw herself as beautiful. she hated that she was caught in this trap, actually several (i’ll get into that), though she never liked to make it apparent. all she needed was a feather to lighten her, and a rock to ground her. turns out, i was both.
i told her that i used she/her pronouns, and she told me that she used she/they. the “they” only came out when she was feeling insecure.
at first i worried that maybe she wouldn’t be comfortable having a straight friend. evidently, i became more worried that my parents wouldn’t be comfortable with having a bi daughter.
i mentioned zara’s traps earlier, and it was a clear, moonlit night when she first mentioned them to me. we were on her parents farm that she (and we) would later inherit, laying down in the grass. her face made it clear that she was on the verge of crying, yet her voice sounded just as it always did. i focused on her to make sure she was alright. but she needed to lift the heaviest of weights off her chest, and give them to somebody whom she completely trusted.
anxiety was the mental trap. bulimia was the physical trap. it couldn’t have been more obvious that i had no clue what that term meant.
but instead of shrugging it off, i asked her.
and she told me that it was the reason why she felt funny every time i would eat around her. why she would make those faces. but she didn’t want to make me feel bad. we’d be hanging out together, and i’d be stuffing my face with food, i went completely nuts for the stuff, i mean, didn’t everybody? but after a few minutes, she’d utter “i’ll be right back” and run off in such a hurry and five minutes later she’d return. and i’d ask her if she was alright. and she’d say yes every time. but really, she’d just thrown up all that was inside of her. of course it made her feel horrible. of course it made me feel sorry for her. but she said there was nothing she could do about it. it got to the point where she was starving herself, just so she wouldn’t have to deal with the vomiting and the pain. yet she’d still suffer in silence. and i’d been completely oblivious, not questioning why she’d act this way. like it was a normal thing. i never imagined how much it would spiral.
when we first met, i was only five pounds heavier than her. at her worst, she was thirty pounds lighter than me. they’re just numbers, she kept reassuring me, as she constantly, consistently weighed herself on the bathroom scale, every time she would go in there. and every time she’d come out, she’d be wiping her eyes. i never assumed that they were full of tears.
and that was the main reason why all those tattoos covered up her body, so that people like me would be looking at art, rather than pain and suffering.
but back to the night she told me. something that made her happy was always those moonlit nights she always had a fascination for them. it brought her safety and comfort. sometimes she would lay out on the grass, stare up at that bright glowing orb and fantasize. she’d fantasize silently when she was by herself, but whenever i was there she’d fantasize out loud to me.
that night there was a gentle breeze, the blonde tips of both our hair swaying alongside it, mingling with the swift currents. suddenly i could feel her touch my hand ever so gently with her fingertips.
she remarked how i had very soft hands, and i laughed and joked that i used a combination of moisturizer and body butter, just for the hands. and she shook her head smiling and intertwined her fingers in mine.
after a while i asked her what the reason was for telling me all that deep shit about her.
and that was when she let go for a brief second and turned away. as if she regretted everything that she told me.
but she said, in a much quieter, softer, sincere voice, that i was the reason why.
five years and one consultant later, zara eventually became less of a skeleton and more of a human. and for once, she was truly happy. she had a girlfriend. she had a home. she had a farm. all to her own.
“i want to raise my kids here,” was what she told me on one of my first visits there, when i was just getting used to the feeling of my skin against the cool grass. i became more and more fond of that idea. a fantasy of my own. we both agreed, through laughs, to not give our kids as exotic-sounding of names as ours. we didn’t want them to go through the same hardship as us, especially me. i knew how to spin a few tales of irish folklore that i was more than happy to tell them. one of the few things that my parents would feel proud of me for. zara wanted to dress them up, make them take art classes, follow in her footsteps. she would encourage healthy diets of course, but most importantly make them feel safe and comfortable and protected and at home.
we both were perfectly capable of carrying our children ourselves. we both had access to the necessary resources. but insecurities got in the way, especially on zara’s end. we eventually made the decision to adopt our two daughters.
zoie was our older one, grace our younger, separated by two years. they both loved to dance. they both loved unicorns. they both loved rice krispy treats that i would sneak into their lunchboxes.
and they loved each other. i was in awe of the seemingly unbreakable bond that they shared. late at night when zara and i would tuck them in, we assured them that we would be right down the hall in case they ever got nightmares, but grace would always remind us that her big sister was there on the other side of the room to protect her. she was always the one to get the nightmares. never zoie.
sometimes zara would have crippling nightmares about her past life, and i would make her step outside with me, while the kids were asleep, and we’d lay down in the grass as if we were those angsty teenagers again. sometimes she would take a few puffs of a cigarette, and i’d drink a cold pint, just to make ourselves feel young again. and we’d share a sweet kiss or two, our breath tainted with the fumes of that smoke, or the bitter, dry taste of that drink. it made us feel good.
but those kids were the loves of our life. zara would always worry that they’d develop the same insecurities as her, or if they loved her just as much as they loved me, but i would always tell her that they deserved to love her more than me. she was the more deserving of it than me. whenever we’d go to the playground, if one of them fell and scraped their knee, she’d be the first to rush over, asking them if they were okay in an evidently stammering voice before patching them up with shaky hands. they’d always want me to come join them and play with them, and i’d only say yes if they agreed to get ice cream with us at the parlor next door afterwards. obviously they’d say yes. zara adored how much i liked to have fun with them.
i remembered how nervous we both were at becoming parents initially. zara was afraid that they would be scared of her appearance, and i was afraid that maybe they’d get sick of me too fast. on the day we first met our daughters, the adoption center receptionist said to us that as long as we loved them enough and cared for them enough, then we’d be fine. one night i could remember, zara was on our living room couch, bouncing one of our girls on her knee to try and get her to stop crying, and she had this fearful look in her eyes when i came over. i told her to relax, to let me try to calm her down, but she instantly became resilient to that idea. so i sat down next and let our daughter grip onto my finger for a bit while zara held onto her, and a minute later she was fast asleep. so that got me to thinking that maybe it was always better if both parents were present for them. we both loved holding them when they were little, especially zara, and it killed us that first time they said they were too big to be held, struggling to break free from our grasp.
but nonetheless, we were still perfectly happy as a family. saturday evenings we would play board games or card games. sunday nights we would watch movies. it basically became family rituals. things that we could’ve only dreamed of years prior. on those sunday nights in particular, after we put the girls away for bed, the two of us would cuddle on the couch, watching a more grown up flick, taking turns topping the other, spooning the other, always whispering in each other’s ears those gentle yet ever-necessary reminders of how much we loved each other, and how much we were proud of each other for how far we’d come, in those years that never seemed to slow down enough for us. we didn’t want our girls to grow up. we were terrified of how they’d handle grade school, and peer pressure, and bullies, and how they would become far more prone to insecurities than we could ever imagine.
so one day, i decided to tell zara this radical idea of mine, taking my life in a direction that couldn’t have been more ironic if it tried: becoming a teacher.
zara thought it was a joke at first. so did my parents. my teenager self would have thought it too, probably. but we all knew that i would do anything for my girls.
initially, it was no easy endeavor, no matter how many times i reminded myself that it was all gonna be worth it, but once i came around and learned the essential tricks of the trade, homeschooling became much more of a cinch that i could ever imagine. and i developed a total brand for myself, thanks to my girls giving it to me in the first place, being “the fun teacher,” and eventually becoming “the best teacher in the whole world and universe.” i had absolutely no idea how happy and satisfied that made me feel. maybe zara was a bit jealous that things had taken a total turnaround, that i had the more promising career. she was still making enough money for us, selling art pieces, street clothes and sunglasses. so in her defense, she had the more lucrative career. but money meant nothing to me, just as long as i was having fun.
so yeah, when i first met zara, i had no idea what i was getting myself into, but i would never in a million years regret it, cause i couldn’t have gotten myself a better family if i wanted to, and neither zara nor myself couldn’t have asked for a more perfect life together.
except for one missing piece…
…but i’m still waiting for the right time to pull that ringbox out of that dusty old drawer in the storage closet that zara reserved just for me so she could hog up every other closet with her art junk. our girls love to play hide and seek in that one anyway, and hey, maybe i could ask them for their help in popping the pivotal question…
this is a bit different @fiction-tastic , but i hope you still like it!!
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rubberbandballqueen · 3 years
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if i ever had a question for the mcelroys it would be “if there’s a disease with a major symptom being diarrhea, would a person with chronic constipation be looking for diarrhea or regular stool if they suspected they had caught it”
#it came to me on the shitter and i was like 'too bad yahoo answers is gonna die soon this feels like a mbmbam q'#but then halfway through writing this i was like 'wait a second. sawbones and *dr.* sidnee mcelroy'#in other news i have been coughing ever since i got back from my parents' trip so i've been monitoring my sense of smell#and taste and it's been pretty good but i checked the shampoo after washing my hands and lads i could not smell it#which is concerning bc this morning i could smell it and i could taste my sour patch kids#but it's somehow vanished over the course of the day so. worrying. no fever that i'm aware of#not even really sure whom i could have caught it from if it's the plague?#but i'm really glad i wrote a MASK ALL THE TIME even when we were HIKING OUTDOORS#bc the first minor hacks were coming on the last day on the road so it probably would have been incubating the entire trip if plague#idk my dad's been vaccinated for a while now and he says he's been kinda having a dry cough in the morning too#and it's not like a huge phlegmy phlegm cough either it's mostly a dry cough which is frustrating but it reminds me to hydrate#and my mom who has also recently received her second dose hasn't been coughing either so. we'll see#i had my dad cancel my eye doctor appt today but he made me come along to best buy for the phone repairs#he was like 'eh you're not coughing that much as long as you don't cough they won't know'#which like. hello???? bc i told him i didn't wanna go bc even if it's just a cold i don't wanna just go into public COUGHING that's so RUDE#the worm speaks
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jtrokujo · 3 years
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂¿
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paring: Mikaela Hyakuya x fem!Reader
(they’re 18+!!!)
word count: 4k
warning: this story contains sexual content
gerne: smut
summary: there are days when they get along well but there were also days when they hated each other like the plague and even though they love each other?
The weather is neutral, but I wish it got better.
The sun is obscured by the gray clouds, but it's not windy or anything.
You could even go out with a top.
However, y / n decided to take a seat in the four walls with a number of different books and a tall pile of books right next to them.
As she gently leafed through the pages of the somewhat older book, she felt a stab.
Of course it didn't hurt since no one was attacking her, but it felt like someone was watching her.
Without presenting her feelings, she took some books and put the rest where she got them.
Immediately after leaving the library, she stopped in the middle of the path and said with an annoyed sigh, "Bathory, I know you're here."
He stands grinning in front of y / n, but could hardly show a disappointed face.
With his head tilted to one side, he looked at his prey and smiled at her immediately. "I prefer you to call me by my first name, dear."
“I do what I want and not what you want, Bathory. Besides, I have better things to do than waste my precious time being influenced by you. "
When they told the vampire, she continued on her way, or at least intended to.
As quickly as he came, he grabbed her arm just as quickly. "But y / n, why is it in such a hurry?" asked the vampire, amused, pressing more and more on hers with every second, so slowly you could hear her bones. Y / n had to react immediately!
Without thinking for a second, she dropped all of the books on the white floor and immediately grabbed her gun. "You should let go of me!" y / n's voice rang out down the hall and immediately shot the vampire in the arm.
His blood spurted around her.
Y / n got his blood on her face as well as on her clothes - it was the same with Bathory, also the wall and especially the floor got his blood.
"Disgusting." mumbled y / n and wiped the blood on her face, although she knew herself that it would be of no use.
"What's going on here?" Everyone but not him.
"Hello Mika!" said Ferid with delight and turned to get a better look at him.
"Have you lost your nerve again?" he asked me annoyed, but he only looked at me for a few seconds and immediately saw Ferid's blood spatter.
"What do you mean 'again'?"
Even if we've known each other for a long time, we both have to admit that one and the other have diverged. Sometimes it was his fault, sometimes it was me. There were of course moments when we got along really well, but in the end they weren't enough in my opinion.
"Since you've lived with us, at least one vampire must have got something from your weapon."
Said the blond-haired vampire while his eyes stared at me.
I'm not understating when I say that his eyes alone make me feel naked.
Mika only manages to control me through his eyes, even though I should be the one who should control every vampire or the various books I spend most of my time on just one more bad joke.
It was enough for vampires to exist and more than hundreds of people took their own lives just to be able to enjoy themselves. To this day I cannot forgive any of the vampires for what they did to me or those around me. I know myself that there are bad ones, but what is their goal?
Or do you have a goal?
"Y / n." I heard his voice.
Awakened from my trance, I see his eyes again. However, they do not have this previous aura, no, they are a little stricter this time. When I gave him a sign of his attention, the lecture immediately came, "You are old enough to know how to behave and with whom to behave. If you show this behavior to someone else, I'll let that person do it . " and do what they want, because I haven't had the nerve for someone like you for a long time. So finally know your limits before I use my weapon against you! "
Impressive. From sentence to sentence his voice grew louder and louder. Seriously, I never expected or even had the idea of ​​this side of Mika in my life, but here it is. Wonderful y / n, now you have managed to sink deeply with Mika, which is actually the very last thing I ever wanted to achieve in my life, but life has never been a paradise.
With a chuckle, Bathory put his arm and my shoulders and spoke to Mika.
"But, but Mika shouldn't be so strict with her. She's just a little girl again, not even now, is she?" "If I were that little girl, you would surely have two arms instead of one." After saying my sentence, I picked up the books that were still on the floor and didn't say goodbye to anyone, why should I?
Bathory is nothing more than an idiot who uses his satisfaction to see others suffer rather than provoke them too.
While Mika nudges both children like a father, although the other is to blame for everything.
When I got to my room, I put the books on my table and sat on my bed, thinking about the old days. However, I don't think of the days with loved ones that I lost, but of those that I spent with Mika before he gave me a “better life”.
I could leave it all behind at any time and either not start an old or a new life, but I love to have him in my heart for it.
Sighing at my thoughts, I give up and stood in front of my closet for the next minute.
While the lukewarm water felt the white bathtub, my clothes landed on the floor.
This life is more of a calling expected of others than a life of its own. A break does no harm to anyone.
I said to myself and after a few seconds I closed my eyes.
After my bath or a break from the real world, I'm just choosing which book to read.
As I was about to start the new book, someone knocked on my door.
Hesitantly, I said the door was open and waited for the person behind it to appear. Please leave it all but Bathory.
Sighing, I immediately put my hand on my left breast and saw him, Mika.
To be honest, I'm happy to see him, but I'm not, but I don't need an explanation. "Good evening." he said in his usual tone. Without making a big head out of it, I repeated it myself, but added if he needed anything from me.
Shivering, I answered my question in the negative and came up to me with slow steps.
The only thing I could do was do nothing. I stopped. When our faces are a few centimeters away, his arm came slowly towards my body, until he reached for something, when he had this in his hand, he came back with a few steps and immediately held a book in my face.
"I really recommend it, I have to say, you have pretty good taste when it comes to books. I've read it several times because these stories, the writing style, the plot and most of all the characters are up to me." uniquely well written down to the smallest detail. "
I looked at the vampire in amazement. "You read that too?" "Y / n, if I hadn't read it, I wouldn't have a clue either."
A little ashamed of my oh-so-intelligent question, I also looked at the floor.
The whole time there was nothing to be heard, neither a little intoxication, nor even breathing. But after a few seconds, Mika also broke the embarrassing silence by taking a few steps and holding out his arm to me. I don't understand it about myself. When Mika is around, I either act annoyed or neutral. However, countless butterflies gather in my stomach when I think of him alone!
"Y / n ... y / n?!" Mika looked up, gave me a neutral look and at the same time held a few strands of my hair and asked me if he should tie my hair up with a towel. I gently took the wet strands of hair from his hand and began to giggle at my discomfort and nervousness. The thought of me being weird was always out of the question.
"I think I'll blow dry my hair. I'll see you at dinner or tomorrow."
"I'll see you at dinner or tomorrow." repeated Mika before she disappeared from my room.
Locked in the room and caught in his deepest thoughts, he stared over the ceiling.
The reviews of that day haunted him to this day when he also dreamed them.
Sleeping now wouldn't be for him, even though it is shortly before 2 o'clock.
But what can you do about it?
The vampire rose from the bed, stretched out, and decided to go for a walk immediately.
As he walked through the empty corridors, he always hoped not to meet anyone.
Whatever stays that way.
Bored and hands in his pockets, the floor caught his attention. It didn't take long, however, because he was amazed to get up when he saw the light coming from someone's room.
He was more than sure whose room, or rather chamber, it was.
It was Y / n's.
He stopped in front of it, thinking, held out his hand and wanted to knock on the door. At the same time he quickly put his hand in his pocket. This scenario takes about 3 minutes. But it wasn't the vampire's nervousness that was unusual, no, why should he be at y / n's door? This is funny.
Doesn't he often seem annoyed or stern in your presence?
Well, he doesn't even know what's going on in his head.
After an eternity, the vampire finally knocked on the human's door and immediately heard "Come in" from the other side.
Without telling himself twice, he opened the door and saw her. He saw her spread out on the large bed with several notes and books.
Stressed out. You can't see it from the outside, but even Mika can confess that he thinks it is strange to see y / n at this time.
"Do you need something?" she asked him and fixed him with her gaze.
"Shouldn't you be sleeping long ago?" he asked and at the same time crossed his arms over his chest.
"Mika, I could ask you that too, don't you think?" sigh y / n and slowly start piling up her notes and books together.
When Mika offered her help, she politely declined and slowly and carefully put the things on her desk.
"If you have nothing special to do, you can always keep me company, you know?"
Yes, even if there is an argument between the two, they still get along well. However, they don't seem to be as close as they used to be. Without saying anything, Mika accepted the offer and sat next to y / n.
Was that really wise?
The smell of y / n gets over his head, but he's not as easy to lose control as other vampires.
Breathing hard, Mika rubbed her eyes and hoped that this unbearable smell would go away any moment.
Easier said than done.
If only I had drunk blood in the last few days. The vampire cursed.
Y / n noticed his unusual behavior and tried to communicate with him, but to no avail. She called his name several times, tapped him on the shoulder, and shook him a little. He seems trapped in his own world. For the first time she seemed to see someone so trapped in his own world. When will he regain his senses?
Annoyed, she hit his skull with her fist, which led to a groan of pain from Mika's mouth. "What does this mean?!"
“If you are tired, please go to your room and sleep there.
Both rolled their eyes in annoyance.
"You have nothing to say to me, human."
"Oh really? What are you going to do about it, vampire?" It wasn't a mistake by y / n, but rather Mika's mistake. If he hadn't called her a human, she wouldn't have called him a vampire. Nobody except Mika knows right now how much he hates vampires and yet he is one himself, but you have to remember that he never wanted to be one. Not everyone is lucky in life.
As I said, even if it was his own fault that she reminded him, he completely lost his nerve. Slowly she approached y / n, she already felt the dark aura coming towards her. However, y / n did not want to show the fear that is in her and slowly rising above her head. She will regret it. "Repeat when you have the pity." "What is the problem? You called me human and I called you a vampire, but you know what makes me be silly, get out of here, vampire. ”Without further ulterior motives, Mika grabbed her wrist and squeezed the bones with her hand listened from print to print. When she wanted to reach for her gun, which is under her top, Mika was a second faster and threw it directly to the end of the room. When Mika immediately released his hand from Y / n's wrist, she saw an emotion in his eyes, sadness.
He was hurt, but shouldn't he care? What should a little person who plays with little guns do against a vampire, ask him about a game? However, he saw her more as a person, he saw her as someone he can love, with whom he can laugh, of course he had had these people before in his life, but they have long since disappeared. Oh how much he loves her.
If only she knew how many letters he wrote her, but never gave them to her, but hid them in his room.
"I'm really stupid." Mika muttered trembling to herself. Y / n heard it and slowly walked up to him "Mika, that was very childish of me and, to be honest, I'm sorry." When she tried to touch his shoulder, he knocked her away and looked into her eyes, it was their fault.
“I don't want your decisions! I never wanted to be a vampire! If you don't know anything about me, please be quiet and think twice before you open your door! ”The whole room went quiet, pretty quiet. It was rather uncomfortably quiet for y / n, but she preferred to keep her mouth shut because it looked like Mika was looking for the right words. "Why do I love you? Tell me Y / N, how can I love you when you hate me so much?" His voice was fragile and it was tormented to hear it that way. "Mika, I had never hated you before." Exhausted, Mika sat down on the floor and looked at the gun at the other end of the room. "Every time I see a gun like that, I hate myself even more." “Even if it sounds a bit clichéd, for example because of the current situation, I have to and want to admit that I love you Mika. You are in such pain and apparently you have torn old wounds. You didn't deserve that, nobody deserved that. ”Y / n sat like Mika on the floor and hugged him. Her warm body against his cold one. As if in slow motion, their faces stood a few inches apart until their lips met.
𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏
With my hands on the back of his neck and my tongue seeking his, his fingertips dance from my thigh under my top.
Only he managed to make me shiver everywhere in a few seconds with the help of his touch. Not through his ice-cold skin, no, only through him. In keeping with the mood, the cold raindrops hit my window pane. "Waiting." he whispered to me.
Not a second later it was pitch black in my room. The butterflies in my stomach just like Mika don't know when to stop, but I love it, never let it stop! His lips kissed every inch of my skin and whispered to me how divine my body was. His hands slide up my top until it finally brushes over my head. The first item of clothing is already on the floor. My legs were around his waist so he could pick me up and lay me on my bed. When he did that, his lips were still on my skin.
As I lay down comfortably, I watched his clothes land piece by piece on the floor. His belly is built like that of a Greek god and although it is dark the moon shines on him. One could have immediately thought it was a godsend. The boxer shorts were the only items of clothing that remained. While I was about to take off my pants, Mika took my hands and indicated that he could do it himself. When my pants peeled off my skin, he looked at my legs in admiration and immediately threw my pants on the floor. Now stand half-naked in front of my bed. The red cheeks on his cheeks were clearly visible. "Are we really supposed to pull this off?" I asked Mika and looked him in the eye. His lips approached my ear and he breathed softly, "Y / n, the question is not, we should, but we can. A human and a vampire, is that a good chemistry?"
"Why don't we want to find out?" I whispered and kissed his shoulder in time. Now he looked at me again, but with clearly red cheeks you could have thought he had a fever, but I can't blame him, because even when his ice-cold body is on top of mine, my body manages to have a hot temperature.
As our tongues played with each other again, our hands explored each other's bodies. While one hand pinches my buttocks, the other is right on my bra clasp.
Moaning slightly, I also pinched his buttocks and felt my muscles tense. A low gasp left his delicate lips, which made me even weaker. My temperature rises more and more with each of his touches.
I can not stand it anymore!
He knows very well that he has the upper hand!
When my bra, like the rest of the clothes, landed on the floor, his ice-cold hands brushed my arms up to my hips and brushed the last piece of clothing across the floor.
I was breathing hard down in my zone.
His hands were on each thigh so I couldn't pinch my legs together. Apart from the horniness, I could hardly move my legs because of his strength, you can not say that he is so strong. The horniness in me is going like crazy! With every breath Mika takes against my area, the butterflies in my stomach fly crazier.
When his tongue brushed my cervix for less than a second, I let out a gasp. Immediately afterwards he pressed his tongue against it and danced with it at the same time. That I'm getting wetter is not only clear to me, but also to Mika, when he was his tongue in my entrance, she explored every single inch inside.
Overwhelmed by shame and lust, I pressed one hand against my mouth so as not to make a noise from you, and the other on his white-blonde hair.
Every time his tongue penetrated deeper and he spread my thighs wider and wider, it honestly hurt, but I don't care about that at the moment because as good as he makes me feel no one is going to do it and I want it too nobody does it because I just want them. Because I just want Mika.
When I thought it couldn't get better, I was wrong. When he started sucking, I was done. My lustful moans got louder every time I sucked, but I do my best that nobody but Mika can hear it. When he freed his tongue from the entrance again, he stuck his middle and ring finger in the next second and didn't give me a second to get used to it. The speed of his fingers is unique!
No matter how much I press my hand against my mouth, my moans stay louder.
Several times his name groaned, which only drove him to increase the speed. My orgasm is nourishing. When I groaned and said I was about to be there, he didn't stop but continued. His tongue dances on my cervix and his fingers successfully hit the G-spot every time, it's just breathtaking!
When my orgasm came, I screamed his name with relish and breathed heavily as I stared at the ceiling.
His beautiful face approached mine, but he devoted his lips to my ears and whispered, "A second round won't hurt you." Aren't my trembling legs enough for him? In the middle of the kiss, I slowly felt his member inside me, but my nails clawed behind his back in pain, we continued the kiss. Now it was Mika who groaned in the middle of the kiss. He closed his eyes and kissed my chest as his hips began to dance. Is it still normal for him to make me feel this way? Because on the one hand I can no longer, on the other hand I want more! Mika's one hand is on my thigh while the other is on my chest. The way he plays sensitive nipples is superb.
I don't know how he makes me feel so good, but I want him to never stop. "Mika, don't stop." I moaned in his ear and wrapped my legs around his waist. When he saw me, I didn't know how to feel. Because his eyes are blood red! He slowly approached my neck. That cold breath worried me even more. He didn't bite me, however, but instead scratched his designated spot with his fangs as the blood flowed from the wound, so it propelled him and made him much faster than before. The clap of our skin was just as loud as the satisfying moans from our mouths. "Y / n." he groaned my name and immediately turned me around. Now my back was visible to him. With both hands on our hips, our bodies clapped together. When I moaned his name one last time, the orgasm came, Mika pulled his member out of me and rubbed it with his hand until finally the white sperm speared out of his body.
𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏
After Mika helped me cleanse my body, we are back in bed naked. "Do you think we can do it?" Mika asked out of nowhere. “I don't think so, I know, Mika. And I think you should too. "The vampire looked at me lovingly and finally kissed me on the lips and immediately afterwards whispered" Good night, y / n. " "Good night, Mika."
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lolita-lollipop · 3 years
Note
Hey i just read your yandere platonic levi & hange and i absolutely LOVED it.I was wondering if you could maybe write a part 2 maybe where the reader begins to realize that their parents behavior isnt normal and tries to escape and is caught trying to leave the walls.Sorry if this is kinda messy feel free to ignore:)
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YANDERE MOM HANGE X READER X YANDERE DAD LEVI
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You’ve always been so confused why people have always avoided you like the plague, you thought it was maybe your appearance, like your glasses or your unruly hair, then you started to think you were just annoying, but it isn’t like people were rude to you or ever told you to go away, so that would make any sense, you’ve always just been so confused. Then it kindof clicked in your mind, maybe it wasn’t you at all, maybe it was the people who’re always around you, the people whom you’ve idolized alll your life, the people whom you’ve never even thought to suspect… your parents.
It was just a hunch, and you really had no evidence behind it, but it was the only logical explanation. Sure, people are kind of scared of the crazy lady obsessed with Titans, and the strict savior of humanity, but that doesn’t explain why not one person talks to you other than your mom and dad, maybe Erwin from time to time. So, you started observing a little harder, trying to pick up things you hadn’t noticed before. And boy, did you notice some things… a lotta things.
From you spotting both Levi and hange going a little too hard on a few cadets who’d done nothing but spoken to you, to them outright gong through your stuff, there was just so much stuffed that you’d fooled yourself out of seeing. They don’t let you freely live, they’re always making sure it’s done with the maximum safety precautions, everything you do is seen them,or reported to them. How had you missed al this?
You thought your suspicion was hidden, but oh god it was not, every extra glance you sent their way, or the narrowed eyes taht ahd recently been present on your face, it was all too obvious. They didn’t know who planted those seeds of doubt in your head, but they didn’t like it, not one bit. They marked it off as you just being a bit paranoid, as your “friend” had mysteriously disappeared the other day, and just hoped you would leave it alone sooner or later.
You didn’t though, and eventually, you became too aware of eveythibg, it’s just too much for you at this point, how could they do things like this and expect you not to notice? It might’ve passed when you were a little kid, but certainly not anymore. And So, you devised a plan of “escape”, you leave the walls, avoid getting eaten by any Titans, and have a life away from them, one where they can’t interfere anymore. You’d trained for this with your father personally, and you knew jsut about everything about how Titans function, so you could handle yourself.
Tonight was the night you’re supposed to carry out that plan, and you’ve been having a little bit of second thoughts, wondering, should you really do this?
It’s not like you’d proven that they actually do anything wrong other than being overprotective, and their titles alone could be something to blame for people ignoring you, so is it really a good idea to leave? They love you, and you love them, they are a peice of you, your family, maybe you overreacted and you’re gonna leave for no reason, and they’ll be sad? Before any more thoughts could run straight through your head and have you doing yourself, you heard footsteps coming down the corridor, it’s the middle of the night, so there wouldn’t be anyone else walking out than… them. So, on a panic, you went on with your plan, triggering the other gear to zip you off into the city, closer and closer to the walls.
When you were finally able to reach the top of the top, it was a beautiful sight, you’d never been allowed all the way up here, in fear that you might fall, but this… was gorgeous, all the different lights and people, did you really want to leave all this just because your parents are a little overprotective? You turned the other way to look back out at the fallen ruins that was shiganshina, maybe, staying in here isn’t all that bad, maybe you should just stay, and try to make some friends instead. You’d spent too much time thinking, and absentmindedly ignored the whirring of another persons gear.it was too late when you were able to notice, as a dark figure had already landed right next to you, that dark figure was Levi Ackerman, on full glory, reaching out to grab hold of you.
“What. are. you. doing. up. Here. It’s too late for you to even be out of bed, let alone cloning the walls, what are you even thinking?@ he questioned, slightly yelling to make his point heard. You flinches at the sudden aggression, Backing up to distance yourself from him. You should’ve just stayed home, oh god this was such a bad idea. You stayed frozen, planted in yor spot as he stared you down.
“I-I just wanted- uhm, I’m sorry- I know I’m not supposed to be up here but I thiughi it was pretty and I just-l “you spluttered out, staring at the lit up city, you gripped onto the edge of the stone, staring down at your feet in shame, you panicked internally, wondering what he would do.
“I made your mother stay home, if she were here she would’ve already have you being taken down, very lucky I did so too, or you would be in more trouble than you already are.., did you really think you would last a day out there? Away from us? You N e e d Us, we’re your family, we know what best for you, they would just tear you up out there, you get that? You’re safe with us, now let’s get down, before you accidentally fall.” He lectured, you are shorter than him, stupid genes, so he looked down at you, and grabbed your arm, pulling you close to his chest, pulling you to the edge of the right side of the wall.
“You’re staying inside the house for a few months, I don’t trust you enough to be out and about just yet, no argument” he firmly spoke, hooking on one of the wires of his old hear to a tall building nearby, you clout cv s don’t him, tears left your eyes, you really are that weak huh? Not even able to take a step out of the walls before daddy came and told you not to. There wasn’t anyway you’re getting out of this one.
Meanwhile, in the minds of your two parents, this really wasn’t seen as an act of rebellion, you know better than that, and you wouldn’t do that, more of a misguided judgment, someone must have less you to believe that they were dangers to you, or others. They were going to find this someone, they just need to make sure that you knew they would never harm a Single hair on your head, others, not so much, but you don’t need to know that.
“I’m-I’m sorry” you oj spike, slightly muffled due to your face shoved into the crook of his neck while you soared through the skyline together, you clung into him in a tight hug, trying to let him know that you feel guilty, which you do. You misjudged then didn’t you? That must be why he’s so calm, he chuckled at how ckibgky you were all of a sudden, patting your back slowly with one hand, while keeping another steadily on his gear to navigate.
“ you just were confused, it alright”
———
When you arrived home, your mama looked frazzled and worried, pacing around her living room quickly, wondering if her husband was too late, and needed her help. She had the fire burning bright, and Levi had brewed some calming tea right before he left, nothing helped with her nerves thiugh, she was just, so worried, she hadn’t felt this protective since you were just a small baby, you are still her little baby though so it kindof makes sense. It was such a relief when Levi walked in the room, your hand clasped in his, you following behind, gear long discarded, and tearful eyes shining bright.
And she attacked you with the biggest hug you’ve ever been in, repeating things under er her breath like “you’re alright” or “don’t do that, EVER again”. She clutched your head right into her chest, holding you there, and wrapping her other arm around your waist to keep you there. You sniffled a bit, shocked that you even thought you could leave this behind without missing it, and she looked down at you, the worried look still brightly shining.
“Oh no, no, don’t cry baby, you just scared me. It thought you tried to leave, and go outside-outside. You wouldn’t do that to us would you? You would never leave us. Right?” She hurriedly hushed, wiping the stray tears away, you didn’t know how to reply to that, you were gonna leave them, but you aren’t, and you don’t want to anymore. So you shook you head, shoving your face deeper into her chest, trying to not cry too hard, or you would feel sick. Then Again, you would kind of deserve that.
“I- I should even have- I’m just- so sorry” you managed to splutter out, muttering the same words you repeated to your father over and over, before breaking bout in a full sobbing fit, guess this situation really was too much for you then? Honestly, you could’ve fought against Levi as he took you back, you could’ve had him drop you, and you could’ve gone flying in the other direction, but you didn’t, you stayed, it shows how much you really do love them, and how much you really weren’t set on the idea of leaving.
Hange stroked you’re hair, cooing and shushing you while your cried and sniffled, hugging yourself closer to her. She and levi met eyes, silently communicating the same idea.
One thing is for sure, even if you wnated to, there is no way you are leaving these walls, at least not without them.
—————————————————————————————————-
Thank you so much🥺😊
This was super fun to write, Thank you for requesting anon!
Anyway, have a wonderful day today, goodbye!
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ahundredtimesover · 3 years
Text
Friday Nights and Take-Out (1)
Would I be someone you’d hypothetically hook up with?
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre/Tags: strangers to friends to lovers, popstar/idol!jk, fluff, angst, future smut; this is a dialogue-heavy series so read if you’re into that! Also Jk is a sweet friend
Warnings: foul language, these characters talk alot bc I talk alot, heavy drinking, eventual smut
Word count: 4,300
Series summary: You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the cafe, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he.
series masterlist 
A/N: My recent dive into fanfics compelled me to unearth this thing I wrote 5 years ago for a certain curly-haired brit (luvu harry) but I never finished it so it never saw the light of day but now it will bc i love jungkook so much and idk what this is but let’s see!
#
There’s a light and unsure knock at the door. As you open it to see who’s visiting you this Friday night, you immediately wish you stayed at least a half hour later at your family-run café so you didn't have to be having this conversation right now. 
But you are having it right now. At your apartment. With your ex-boyfriend who finally decided to give you an explanation as to why he broke up with you five months ago. 
The next thing you know, he’s saying he’s decided to move back to Australia after graduation, he’s saying sorry for the nth time, you’re watching him walk out the door, you’re heading to your room for your blanket, you’re going back to your couch, and then you’re crying as it dawns on you exactly what just happened. 
The break up had caught you off-guard because things were going so well. Your dejected and grieving self wasn’t enough to scare him away and his shy, non-expressive self didn’t sow any doubts on your relationship. You two barely fought, too, too alike in disposition for any disagreements or grudges to fester and hurt you. Things just worked. 
But like many good things, this one ended too. It’s like he just woke up one day and decided it wasn’t going to work out anymore, for what reason, you never knew until now. It hurt you, of course - it was still a memorable 2-year run - but true to form, you were able to dust yourself off quickly and get back on your feet shortly after. 
You tried to reach out though; you were good friends before anything anyway, but he avoided you like the plague and you thought you’d not only lost a boyfriend but a friend too. Tonight felt like the closure you didn’t know you needed. He’s gone, for good. And then after graduation, he will be gone for good, for good. 
You stay lying on your couch until you get a text from Jungkook, your new famous friend and current favorite person.
JK: Ran into Jieun at work, says drinks on her at The Third tonight. You up for it?
Nope, you say to yourself. 
You: I don't wanna go out tonight. 
You immediately reply. On a normal night you’d think about it, or even pretend you’re considering it, but not tonight.
It isn’t one of those nights when you’re sad and you want to be around people and get wasted so you can convince yourself you will be okay. It’s one of those nights when you’re sad and you know you will be okay the next day but right now you’re not and you’ll deal with it until the morning comes. You’ll just have to wait because it is only 7:30 in the evening. 
You try to think of a series you’ll binge-watch, but then your phone rings and it’s Jungkook’s meme face, the one he took last week and saved as his contact photo, lighting up the screen.
“Hey, you alright?” He asks, as you groggily pick up and say “hi.” You think he probably thought something was up when you didn't have a follow up message after you turned him down for something.
“Yup,” you manage to respond after an ugly sniffle. “Except I’ve been ugly crying for the past 10 minutes,” you continue.
“What happened?” 
He seems to have stepped out of wherever he was because you hear the mumbles in the background soften quite a bit and you figure you probably disturbed his dinner.
“Jinyoung came over and said the shit I needed to hear five months ago,” you start. “He copped out cause he got scared, Jungkook. Not of getting hurt, okay, which I always said was a bullshit reason for anything but he got scared of me and my dreams. I mean, come on, how much of a fucking coward can you get?” you blurt, sniffles in between phrases, fingers pressing the bridge of your nose to try and keep yourself from crying even more. 
“But I don't know, I’m pissed but he looked so sad and sorry and now he’s moving back to Australia and I just…” you try to continue, frustration rising up again. You’re a mess of emotions right now, that’s for sure.
“Ah, boys,” Jungkook breathes out, knowing this conversation is too important for it to be had just over the phone. “I could come over with food if you like. I know you probably don't need me but you need the food so…” he trails. 
You smile to yourself. “As long as I’m not disturbing your Friday night plans.” 
“You aren’t. I’ve had enough of the hyungs, if I’m being completely honest,” he replies, voice a little louder.
You hear a mix of scolding and laughter in the background, knowing for sure that the rest of the guys are giving Jungkook shit for bailing out on them for you. Again.
“Sounds good,” you say. “Thanks.”
#
You hear a knock on the door under the fleece blanket you have over your fetus-laid body on the couch. 
“It’s open!” You shout, as you tuck the soft white material under your chin and move to your side for a more comfortable position. You look at the built, chocolate-eyed, knife-for-a-jawline pop star walk into your place with what looks like take-out Japanese food. 
“What happened to locking doors?” He asks with a concerned and almost terrified tone, brows scrunching under his stray locks, the rest of his hair hiding underneath his black bucket hat. 
“I didn't wanna escort Jinyoung to the door because it felt poetic to watch him leave from a distance…” You dramatically say.
“And you were too lazy to walk 10 steps to lock the door, but were energized enough to find your blanket from your mess of a closet in the far corner of your room?” He continues, blinking continuously at you.
“Exactly,” you say, as you point to him as if giving him props for reading your mind. 
He rolls his eyes but grins as he does, revealing his dimple that you believe is the first line of offense of his charm. You may not be one of those people who get hysterical when they see him — although you did end up embarrassing yourself when you bumped into him at the café a few months ago when you’d met — but you know charisma when you see it, and you can’t deny that it basically oozes out of him even when he’s not trying. 
He sits on the couch, in the area where your feet lie, and he starts unwrapping the food and lays them out on your coffee table. You sit up ready to pounce on the sushi rolls in front of you when he stands up and gets two glasses of water. “Anything else you need from the kitchen?” He asks.
You respond with a no and watch him open the cupboards, and you can’t help but be touched at the effort. Here is a guy whom you’ve only known for a few short months, blowing off his Friday night plans to be with you because your ex-boyfriend decided to show up… and because you needed food and Jungkook knew you wouldn't make your own when you’re upset. You’ll probably just end up with a bowl of ice cream topped with cookie dough and chocolate chips or something.
“Thanks for being here even if I don't really need you to be,” you say after chowing down a salmon roll, legs crossed underneath you as you both sit on the floor and eat from the coffee table.
“You’re overstating that, Y/N,” he laughs, looking at you, as you’re about to have a mouthful of the tuna roll this time. “I’m 200% sure that you would’ve stayed underneath the covers and probably just ate ice cream or gummy worms until morning if I hadn’t come.”
“Fine,” you start, putting the food down, straightening yourself. “Thank you for my happy food and for being here on a Friday night, watching me carbo load on rolls and tempura rice in my jammies under my blanket. It really means a lot.” You flash him a smile. 
He laughs at this. “May I remind you that this is nothing compared to last week? Keeping me hostage here wasn’t the most fun. Except for your comfortable couch that I had the pleasure of sleeping in,” he grins, tapping the empty space on the sofa next to him.
Right, last week. How could you forget? 
Your days-late New Year celebration ended with you being a goner at the bar, Jungkook being the only one available and strong enough to take you home, what with your friends' adventures and misadventures that night. 
By the time you were home, you were completely passed out. Long story short, he had stayed - which you didn’t know he did - you walked out of your room half naked, heard a sound and someone approaching, screamed and grabbed a knife, ready to attack your supposed intruder, who only turned out to be him.  
So yes, skipping out on drinks tonight didn't come close to him having to take care of you the week before and almost being stabbed by someone he was only trying to help. 
“Please don't remind me,” you say, feeling your cheeks turn red. 
“It’s a funny story to tell,” he chuckles and proceeds to get a mouthful of his own tempura rice bowl.  You look at him surprised - didn’t he just have dinner at the dorm? You shrug it off, almost forgetting this is Jungkook you’re talking about and his bottomless pit of a stomach. 
“I could’ve killed you!” 
He laughs. “But you didn’t.”
“And I didn't have an ex-boyfriend knocking on my door to apologize for being a dick,” you say, sounding serious all of a sudden. 
You know that even if you don’t really intend on having Jungkook here, it still means a great deal to you that you have someone you can talk to. You didn’t want to disturb your friends who were busy with their own work and social lives and having him here is really more than you could ask for, especially considering what he does for a living.
“What did he say?” He asks, eyes soft. You’d only mentioned the breakup in passing a few times before because really, what more can you say? Sometimes relationships just run their course; it happens. At least that’s what you thought it all was.
You sigh, readying yourself. “He said that he just started to think about that talk we had about the things we wanted, and he pointed out the fact that I wanted to do so many things and it just scared him—my goals and the fact that I could reach them scared him,” you share, dragging the words and almost shouting at the stupidity of it. 
“I know I always say we shouldn't invalidate anyone’s fears but that’s being selfish and just ridiculous.” You put the chopsticks down, as if to prepare yourself for the flurry of emotions you were about to release. 
“This guy stood by my side when I got injured and when Grandma died and I was a literal mess. But I got myself together and I got better for myself and for him and then suddenly me wanting more out of life, more for myself, suddenly scared him?” You pause for a bit, catching your breath. 
“It’s like, when he realized what I - what we - could become once real life happens, he bolted out the door, out of this country, back to everything he knew before me, before us.” 
You’re emotional again, air catching in your throat as you feel the tears pool around your eyes once more. By this time, Jungkook had paused eating his meal to focus all his attention on you. 
You continue on about that 15-minute conversation you had - if you could even call it that, given that it was all Jinyoung talking, with you staring at the man you once considered you could have a future with. 
Once you’d calmed down, you and Jungkook exchange thoughts about relationships, back and forth with nuggets of wisdom that you don’t really expect from someone you thought didn't have the time of day to maintain a relationship. 
He’d be constantly linked with models and fellow pop stars, which he’d noted weren’t anything serious or factual for that matter, at least those that weren’t part of some PR stunt, yet here he is right now, agreeing with what you’re saying and adding a different perspective to things. 
He is a hopeless romantic after all, that much he’d admitted during one wine-filled night after crying over Titanic while you were both on the phone (“they literally knew each other for just 3 days, Jungkook, they couldn’t possibly be in love,” you’d shouted. “Ah, 1900s romance,” was all he said. “So beautiful, isn’t it?” Another gulp of wine and then he’d fallen asleep.) 
You two find yourselves grabbing the pitcher of Sangria from your fridge and settle on other topics, like what could be acceptable reasons for breaking up with someone, to the ideas of fate and destiny - which you constantly bicker about because you don’t believe in it while he does, oh so passionately - to the afterlife.
“Relationships are so draining,” you say, tipping your head back on the couch, a groan escaping you. “Even after it’s over, it still takes so much out of you.” 
“I can only imagine,” he laughs bitterly. 
“Words of advice from Friday Night Me - don’t get into one. It’s tiring to pick up the pieces once it’s over.”
“Friday Night You?”
“Yeah, the one who’s upset. Monday Night Me will probably say something different.”
This amuses him, but he nods in agreement nonetheless. “Relationships tend to get messy and I’ve already got enough crazy to deal with,” he continues. “That much I’ve seen watching the hyungs get into these things from the sidelines. I’m sure it’s great and all and I can’t wait to be in one too, don’t get me wrong.” You raise your eyebrow at him.
“I mean hello, Jack and Rose?” You roll your eyes. “Allie and Noah?” 
You laugh. Seriously, this guy needs to watch more romantic films. 
“But I don’t know, too much going on with me right now, I guess,” he continues, shoulders slumped, eyes suddenly finding your fur rug interesting.
You dwell on this thought a little longer than you had wanted. 
You get what he’s saying, though. It’s draining enough for a commoner like you, what more for a worldwide superstar like him? You try to decipher if it’s sadness in his voice, maybe frustration? Resignation? Acceptance?
“But I’m sorry you had to go through that, Y/N.” He says, subject of the conversation now back to you, causing you to break out of your reverie. “I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better,” he says, hand scratching the back of his neck.
“Hey, no need to be sorry! I’ll be fully functional again by tomorrow. I just didn’t realize there was more to the breakup so I was just thrown off a little bit.” You flash him a smile. “But I’m good, really. And the food was enough,” you add. “And your presence, of course.” A smile again. You realize you seem to do that a lot when he’s around.
But you do feel better. You hadn’t thought much about Jinyoung since the breakup until tonight, seeing all the other things going on in your life. But seeing and listening to him made you feel all sorts of emotions that you really just wanted to let out. 
You’d kept a lot of these thoughts to yourself the last few months because you didn’t feel like there was more to say after that first goodbye, and it was nice to have Jungkook there to just listen, which is what you said you wanted him to do (“what kind of friend do you want me to be tonight?” He’d asked. “The listening one,” you’d replied.) But you’ve said what you needed to say, felt all that you needed to feel, and now you’re shutting close, under lock and key this time, that chapter of your life once and for all. 
After a fairly long silence, when he was sure you’d already expressed all your frustrations, he let out a breath. 
“Well, this was a much better option than drinking your sadness away at some club, yeah?” he asks, moving his body to his left side with his back on the armrest so he’s now facing you who’s also back on the couch now, sushi rolls and tempura rice all gone, sangria but a sip left. 
“Well, that wasn't an option in the first place, Jeon,” you call out. “I’m not really one who would take advantage of my misery and use it to justify a night of drinking and awkward hook-ups,” you anticipate, recalling the countless times your friends had encouraged you to go out and find someone good enough for a one night stand these past months.
“Ah, so you’re not a fan of hook-ups, no?” He smirks, looking intently at you, clearly curious about your thoughts on the idea. It’s amusing how quickly you could change topics but it was a good try to move on from the somber conversation you just had.
“I don't really wanna have sex with someone I’ll only be sharing fluids with,” you say, blankly. This intrigues him because now, he’s moving closer to you like a kid waiting for his next adventure story. 
You laugh at his movement. He tips his head, signaling you to continue.
“It’s just not my thing, that’s all,” you start, trying to find a way to explain yourself. 
“I want someone to talk and laugh with when it gets sloppy,” you say, “and someone to make me breakfast when I oversleep. A guy for pure pleasure probably wouldn’t be that person for me. He’d probably just focus on getting both of us off and then up and leave,” you shrug.
This amuses him, even if he chuckles and says “I knew it probably had something to do with food,” and being the Jungkook you’ve come to know these past months, he asks you something that catches you off-guard but at the same time doesn't really surprise you.
“Would I be someone you’d hypothetically hook up with?” He smirks again, excited for your answer.
“No, you’re too good-looking for that,” you say almost instantly and you curse yourself in your head.
“So you mean hypothetically if you were to hook up with someone, he’d have to be unattractive?” He asks, seemingly confused.
“Uh, if it would just be for pure pleasure, yeah… I mean I wouldn’t mind but of course he’d have to be like, hot or something,” like that was common sense. “I’d probably be too drunk to focus on his face and it’d probably be too dark for it to matter anyway,” you shrug. You’re hoping this makes sense to him because your friends never did quite get it. 
You just really don’t do hook ups, especially drunk ones, not that you put sex on a pedestal, but you just have a thing for the before and after of it - the gentle fore play, the removing (and not ripping) of clothes, the cuddle and the aftercare that stretches to breakfast or lunch, and the lazy morning sex. Call you hopeless romantic or something, at least this is your version of it, but those were the things you like about sex, the full package. 
“Hmm, I feel honored to be too attractive to hypothetically hook up with Y/N Y/L/N,” he says, feeling proud of himself, smiling like a kid who just got a blue ribbon for something superficial. God, the duality and contradictions of this guy, you think.
“Let’s just say… you have a face and a touch I’d hypothetically want to get used to, so I wouldn't settle for just one night with you, and then it wouldn't be a hook-up!” You say trying to sound nonchalant, thinking about the tinylittle crush your friends claim you’ve developed on the guy in front you but really, anyone with a pair of eyes would agree that the man is beautiful (you’d always deflected though - “have you seen King Namjoon? Now that is the man, you’d say). 
You settle for honesty though, and it’s true. You just don’t delve on the full package thing, because you know Jungkook is exactly the kind of guy to do all that, but you stop your mind from going there, much so with him sitting in front of you. 
“Ah,” he says, pleased with himself. “So you could get used to this, huh?” He teases, lunging on you, his knees just barely resting on your thighs. He’s planting his hands on your face and squishing every surface he possibly could, laughing as he’s doing so while you shout out every cuss word you know and trying your best to hit him with your hands even if he’s just going to block your hits anyway. 
You kick him on the thigh when he finishes his rampage but it is you who squeals of pain because you used your right foot, the one you re-injured after playing a tune-up game of volleyball the other day. 
Naturally he grabs your foot and starts massaging it, as if he’d always been doing that since you’ve met, which he hasn't. And you haven’t even known each other that long. 
“You’re annoying,” is the only thing you could mutter after finally catching your breath. You can’t lie though, his massage is pretty good. You lay your head on your stretched out right leg and can’t help but close your eyes. 
He sees the satisfaction on your face and not long after, he quips, “I bet this is also something you could get used to after a good night of fucking, yeah?” he starts laughing. 
Since last week’s incident, you’d noticed Jungkook being more comfortable and definitely a little cheekier, flirty, even. Perhaps seeing you in your underwear could do that to a person, you think. 
You feel your cheeks heat up, and all you could do is hit his arm continuously so that he had started to flex after a few slaps. You literally were just talking about hook ups, why did you feel so scandalized? (You’re in denial; you know exactly why.) 
“Good? That confident with your abilities, I see.” You tease, as both of you have now settled down and kept your body parts to yourselves. 
A grin starts creeping from the side of his lips and you immediately regret making such a comment. “Nevermind!” You shout, holding out your hand to cover his mouth before he could say anything again. 
“I’m teasing. I wouldn't know, actually. It’s not like I do it often to know, anyway.”
At this you’re pleasantly surprised, not that you expect him to be the kind of pop star who casually and constantly hooks up with women just because he can, but still you know the parties he attends and all the beautiful women in his circle who no doubt wouldn’t mind making a move, or probably already do on a regular basis. 
Maybe you’re just startled that he would be open about this particular facet of his life to someone he hasn't known long. But then again, you two have been open to each other about many things since you’ve met, but that’s still something you’re only starting to get used to. 
“It doesn't matter,” you say, flashing him the same sincere and thoughtful smile that you put on when he started fixing up your dinner for you earlier. He returns your smile, eyes soft, as if grateful for you not asking any more.
“Well, I mean you’re good at a lot of things anyway so if you suck at that, you could always just sing or dance or impersonate someone and that would overshadow whatever it is you suck at,” you say, winking at him. 
He hits you with a pillow. 
“I’m not sure if that’s supposed to make me feel better,” he says, “but thank you for complimenting my impersonating skills because I think that’s being undermined by the media.” 
You both laugh at the humor.
#
“Tonight made me feel better, though. Thanks for being here,” you say as you finish your glass of wine. 
It’s been hours since he arrived, sleepiness no doubt creeping on the both of you, especially on him who’d spent his day practicing and filming. It’s moments like this that make you happy you met him, that you didn’t freak out or think much when he asked for your number those months ago. 
It’s also moments like this that you remind yourself of what you’d lose if you nurture that tinylittle seed of affection that’s growing in your heart, one unwittingly planted there a week ago. 
He looks at you softly again, as if there’s more he wants to say but instead he replaces his bunny smile with a gentle one, wrinkles forming at the outer corner of his eyes, cheeks just slightly pushing up to reveal the bags underneath those orbs of his. They glisten under the lighting in your living room.
He lets the silence linger a little longer. 
“Anything for you, Y/N.” 
You let yourself bask in this thought, in his presence, just for tonight. Saturday You will get over this. 
As you lay on your bed that night, you decide it isn’t just your past with your ex that you’ll bury under lock and key. It’s also this.
##
>> part 1 drabble
series masterlist
631 notes · View notes
justimajin · 3 years
Text
Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt. 1
➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader 
➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut 
↳ (3.7k), Arranged Marriage AU
➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread. 
➟ Warnings: This series will involve themes of graphic violence, depictions of blood, major character death and hints of trauma. 18+ rating. Reader discretion is highly advised. 
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gif credit. 
➟ Next Update: Tuesday, December 22 
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Love is a strange thing. 
It pulls individuals together, sparking fireworks and blissful rays of euphoria within seconds. It renders people affectionate, words dripped with honey and caresses full of tenderness transcending  without a means of stopping. To be frank, it’s majestic through the eyes of the beholder. 
But love is indeed a strange thing. 
It’s history has been plagued with moments of weakness and hesitation, moments that rip away layers to reveal raw, vulnerable selves from every individual. It’s inability to forget and move on clutches onto the minds of those that chose to associate with it, invading their memories and never granting them a single second to run free. Love is a strange thing, but it’s most putrid use has always been the necessity to use it like a tool. 
A deep breath escapes your tinted red lips, cold hands clutching onto the delicate bouquet that’s been thrust into them. The petal pink and lilac purple flowers rest against the chaste white of your dress, the awaited arrival of yours long passed as you raise your head and sneak a peek at the person standing in front of you behind your veil. 
Clad in a special tailored suit for the occasion, his dark brown hair has been brushed back and neatly tucked into the corners of his hair. He stands tall and confident, seemingly captivated by the words the priest mumbles through as he drags on through every dull phase written in his book. As if he can tell your eyes are on him, he suddenly looks in your direction and you return your gaze back to the ground, clutching onto the array of petals in your hands. 
The priest goes on to dutifully declare the responsibilities you must carry, including the very ones that tie you to each other. 
For better, for worse. Rich, poor. Sickness, health. 
Love. Cherish. 
“Until death do you part?” The priest peers up with fatigued eyes, glancing in between you. You suck in a shaky breath, eyes fixating on everything except for the man standing on the opposing side.  
“I-I do.” You hastily mutter, swallowing the lump stuck in your throat. Patiently waiting for his answer, you try not to focus on the collection of eyes gawking at you from the altar. 
“I do.” He states, firm and resolute with his answer. It shakes you to your core, eyes immediately flickering up to meet his warm ones. 
You’re perplexed for a moment, but you’re not given time to dwell any longer once the priest shuts his book, content with your answers. Relief floods you in an instant, yet it’s short-lived and has your stomach churning instead. 
“You may kiss the bride.” The priest steps back as if you needed room for the grandiose gesture, eagerly awaiting the showcase with the rest of the people seated in front of the altar. Nevertheless, your hands begin to quiver despite your best wishes and you remain planted in place. 
Before you even know it, the delicate veil resting against your forehead is being pulled up and tucked away, projecting your dolled up features on full display. You can only fidget when he draws near, preparing for the worse until he pauses. 
Glancing up in surprise, you’re caught off guard from the lines crossing his forehead and the dismay clouding his eyes. For a second, you could have sworn that you were gazing into a mirror, an image of your combined concerns being painted right in front of you. 
You’re caught in between a daze and bewilderment when he advances again, however all you feel is a soft peck against your skin before your veil is placed back into place. Your audience seems to be at loss with the action, but once he turns around to face them in the midst of holding your hand, loud cheers and roars flood the room as congratulatory confetti bursts into the room. 
Unconsciously, your hand drifts over to your cheek with furrowed brows and you steal another glance at the man you will be bound to for eternity. 
***
The L/N Family. 
Tactical and resourceful, known for their skillful strategies and trade explorations, a business they would go on to proudly pronounce in the arms industry. Others would look to them for support and reassurance, and they would in return cohesively make protective deals that would ensure no harm. Yonghwa, their head, would go on to make a legacy out of his family name. 
The Kim Family. 
Discreet and powerful, known for their relentless determination and invokable hunger, characteristics that would eventually seep into their weapon manufacturing business. They know how and with whom to pick their fights, vigorously acquiring a steady position in the industry within a flash before everyone’s eyes. Namjung, their head, carved the Kim name into a status no one would have ever imagined. 
Trade and manufacturing, two able sides of the same coin. They seeked to forge an union that would unite their two sectors, to create a harmonious flow of success within their collective industries. 
But not all deals, go as planned. 
On the fateful day, Yonghwa was found on the ground in a pool of his own blood while Namjung was left visibly shaken. Catastrophe seemed to only follow the event there on after, with both families seeking revenge on the other. Their union seemed to be the last thing on either mind, but after the years passed and stained relations had been fully dragged out, there only seemed to be one solution that could bring peace to the two of them. 
*** 
The wheels of the large suitcase hit the polished ground. 
It’s lavish and grand, crystals littering the high held ceiling and lilies spread over the handles of the spiraling staircase. It ends right at the large chandelier, with more crystals dangling down opposite the shining marble that your slippers find purchase in. 
You remain in place, staring with wide eyes and an agape jaw the scenery before you. 
“Please,” A girl bows before you, dressed in a simple pale blouse and skirt that’s paired with an apron. There’s a small twinkle in her pleasant eyes paired with natural pouting lips; the delicate features drawing out the sheer youth the girl embodies. “Follow me.” 
You snap out of your daze once she advances forward, her hands careful weaving through yours to clutch onto your packed luggage. At first, you’re a bit unsure as to if you should let her carry the heavy load up the stairs, but you’re pleasantly surprised when she manages to hall it all the way up.
She roughly pushes herself against a large wooden door, revealing the grand room behind it. It’s decorated similarly to the main portion of the house, however the sheer size of it has your jaw dropping again, eyebrows furrowed as its appearance. 
Your suspicions are confirmed right away, “This will be your room, Miss Y/N.” 
“I-I…” You can’t help but hesitate, “Are you sure?”
She nods, placing your luggage now. “Of course, Master Kim asked us to prepare it for you.” 
You instinctively flinch at the sudden mention of your husband, but the girl tilts her head to the side, curiosity peeking through her. 
“Don’t they have such rooms in the L/N residence?” Her eyes suddenly widen, and she slaps a hand against her mouth, “Oh no, I-I didn’t mean it that way!” 
A smile curls on the corners of your lips, “What’s your name?” 
She gazes at you with surprise, like she had been expecting a scolding fit for her lifetime. Nonetheless, she hastily answers your question with a bow. 
“I am Eunjoo, one of Master Kim’s most faithful servants.” 
“Little flower.” You decipher, “Sounds like a fitting name.” 
“It could have been summer’s grace.” Eunjoo offers with a shrug, “Though I don’t really like summer, so I’ve tried my best to ignore that meaning.” 
You let out a genuine chuckle from that, something that has Eunjoo instantly beam. The news of her own Master getting married to someone from the L/N family was initially difficult for her to digest, but it appears that she was too early to judge. 
A lopped smile etching onto your features, “And to answer your previous question, unfortunately the L/N’s don’t have such a residence. We’ve lost much of our wealth after‒…” You pause, biting back your words, “...after, you know.” 
You wave your hand away in the air and Eunjoo understandably nods, no need to delve into the long-lived history of your families that is known to all. She hurriedly aids in you in unpacking much to your reassured protests, following and assisting you around like a little fairy. Her company ends up being both interesting and comfortable, especially since the two of you discovered the other wasn’t well in adapting the titles you carry. 
A knock resounds against the door, drawing out your attention. Immediately Eunjoo drops the clothes in her hands, right before she straightens up and takes a graceful bow. 
Her reaction is telling of who's at the door, so with pinched lips and a creased forehead, you turn around. 
He remains glued to the door frame, still adorned in his tailored black suit. Aside from the similarity in his put together appearance though, his shoulders are no longer hiked up in a noble stance, nor is there any remaining amount of warmth spreading through his eyes. Instead, he appears akin to how he was in the split-second before your ultimate union was official, the memory causing the skin of your cheek to slightly burn. 
Swaying from side to side, he hesitates to step into the room. 
“I see you’ve met Eunjoo.” He mentions. On cue, the servant straightens up, a huge smile on her lips. 
“I was just helping Miss Y/N unpack!” 
“Oh that’s nice, perhaps I can assist to‒” He isn’t able to finish his sentence, because the next thing you know you jolt at the sound of a loud crash that echoes through the room. 
“Master Kim!” Eunjoo immediately rushes forward, scurrying to help the fallen man. He instantly rises up to his feet and dusts off his suit jacket, but remains of glass are scattered all over the ground. 
He lets out a groan and Eunjoo sighs, “Master, you know you have to be careful.” She begins to quickly pluck up the shards of the vase, raising one up to eye level with a pout, “I especially picked this one out for your newly wedded wife.” 
At the mention of you, Namjoon instantly glances up, pupils shaking. “I-I can get you a new one soon, it might take around a week but if I put in a request now‒” He scrambles around for a moment, before checking the inner pockets of his jacket for something to write on in a haste. 
Unconsciously, a small smile cracks through the seam of your lips, increasing as he tries to intervene with Eunjoo to pick the shards, and she protests that he shouldn’t get his hands soiled with her errands. He eventually has to sheepishly stand to the side, staring at her defeated like a child that had just gotten scolded for misbehaving. 
Eunjoo eventually collects all the pieces and ushers herself out, reminding you of the pending family dinner you’ll need to attend in the evening. She leaves the room and you decide to resume unpacking, until you come across the realization that you’re not alone. 
“Do you need help?” He peers at your suitcase behind you, “I’m usually more capable with things that aren’t easy to break.” 
The abrupt proximity catches you by surprise, but you merely shake your head at his kind offer, “I should be fine, thank you.” 
He nods and you assume he’ll excuse himself after a moment, but he lingers and that’s when you crane your head over at him. 
Appearing to be in between a deep ponder, he snaps back into reality once your questioning eyes fall onto him. “Uh I‒” A lengthy sigh leaves his lips, “I know this is strange.”
You wonder what he's referring to until you notice him gesturing to the gap between you, “It’s strange for me, and it’s strange for you. We didn’t really have a choice in the matter.” 
He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, a deep crease forming between his brows. You’re frozen in place, at a complete loss for words. 
He suddenly sucks in a breath, looking up to gaze into your eyes, “But I’d like to get to know you better….a-as my future wife.” 
Your eyes round and his declaration only receives dead silence in its awake. Flabbergasted, he attempts to correct himself amidst your prolonged response. 
“T-That doesn’t mean right away! We can take our time and I’m not expecting anything from you, so you don’t need to worry and‒” 
“I’d like that.” 
He freezes, “Wait, really?” 
You hum, a corner of your mouth lifting, “You’re right, it’s strange. But I’d like to get to know my husband better as well.” 
His eyes immediately sparkle, like you’ve said the very words he’s been aching to hear, “That’s great!” A breathtaking smile overtakes his features, “I guess I’ll see you at dinner then?” 
You nod with a smile,  and he departs, the euphoria never once leaving his lips. 
***
Evening draws near and long gone is the dilatory white piece of garment that’s forever confined you to your fate. Instead, it’s replaced with a delicate fabric of rose gold, perhaps to represent the luxury you have of being present in such a place or in the new beginnings that will soon follow you. 
Regardless, you prepare yourself. Although you’re simply arriving to dinner, there’s a family waiting at the table that you don’t know of yet. 
Eunjoo brings you down with her after putting your hair up and presenting a pair of matching heels your way. You’re wary as you walk down the spiraling staircase, barely balancing yourself on the elevated shoes. Luckily, Eunjoo notices and helps you down, but the split moment of relief is met with a jolt of surprise when you notice someone waiting at the bottom.
“I’ll take it from here, Eunjoo.” The women amiably bids. Eunjoo swiftly bows, mumbling something along the lines of Mistress Kim, before heading into the dinner room. 
You immediately whirl around, eyes on alert like a deer in headlights. She mirthfully smiles at you, carrying a warm tone in her eyes that feels familiar. 
“You don’t have to look so worried,” She reprimands, “I’m not going to bite your head off.” 
Your eyes widen even more, “I-I’m sorry?” 
She bursts out into laughter, concealing her ruby red lips with a hand that is glittering in assorted jewels. 
“Nothing, dear. I’m just teasing you.” You nervously laugh at that, and she places a hand against your back, guiding you forward. “Come, I’m eager to know what my son’s wife is like.” 
Politely nodding, you follow behind her and nearly freeze. If you had expected your bedroom to be astonishing, then you weren’t prepared for the enormous buffet that waits for you ahead. 
Pieces of food are scattered all over the decorated table, ranging from freshly cooked to foods you would have never imagined yourself eating. It reminds you of times your family could barely manage to have a decent meal for one night, lost scavenging for food that wouldn’t make your empty pockets hurt. 
You’re so lost in the thought that you don’t feel someone brush by you. There’s suddenly a warm hand planting onto your shoulder, drawing your attention with a smile full of dimples. 
“Do you want to sit down first?” He gestures to the table, where his mother sits next to his father and opposite to his sister. Embarrassed that you’ve been just gawking at the table, you hurriedly take a seat and so does Namjoon. 
Even though you’re only just sitting at the table, it seems like all eyes are on you, burning into your skin and tracing every move. The impending silence eventually does crack though, and it’s done by a person you would have least expected. 
“Is that chicken?” Namjoon’s father blurts out, his eyes following a tray one of the servants brings by. His wife immediately interjects, dismayed by his reaction. 
“Indeed,” She points a demanding finger at him, “But none for you, there’s a reason why your health hasn’t been the greatest as of lately.” 
He pouts at her response, longley staring at the dish once it arrives. The childlike display catches you a bit off guard, eyebrows raised. 
“That’s unreasonable though.” He suddenly looks in your direction, “What do you think, Y/N? Isn’t she being unreasonable?” 
The abrupt inquiry leaves you speechless, no coherent words manifesting at the tip of your tongue. His wife whirls around, cocking up a brow in his direction. 
“Why are you dragging her into this?” She faces you with a smile, “Y/N is the newest addition to our family so we should make her feel welcome, not bring her into such trivial matters.” 
The pleasant response astonishes you, but more so the mention of your inclusion. He lets out a sigh, acknowledging his wife’s sentiments. 
“You’re right.” He turns to you, “Y/N, why don’t you tell us about yourself?” 
His mother hums, “I’d like to hear about where you grew up, Y/N.” 
“Oh, it’s nothing really special,” You grow bashful, “I was raised in the outskirts of the country by my parents.” 
The two of them nod, intently listening to you, “Before coming here, I studied in the imperial academy for a while.” 
“Ah, involved in the industry I see.” He praises, “You must know a lot about how our businesses are conducted, right?” 
“Not quite.” There’s a strained smile on your lips, “I didn’t want to actively participate in it.” 
Although your answer seems to have taken both of them by surprise, his wife hums in approval. “So I’m assuming that was your personal choice?” 
When you nod, a giant smile stretches onto her lips, and she elbows her husband, “A gutsy one, don’t you think?” 
He smiles in retaliation, “Just like you.” 
She blushes at his sudden compliment, but a voice from afar breaks the two out of their daze. 
“Gross - we’re eating here.” 
Appalled at the feminine voice, you notice the young girl seated across from Namjoon, a deep frown etched onto her stern features. 
“Leave them be, Geongmin.” Namjoon coaxes his sister, but she lets out a grunt of disapproval in the midst of eating soup.
The corners of his mother’s lips turn up and his father faces you again, looking as if he had a million questions up his sleeve lined up just for you. 
Much to your surprise, the rest of the evening is spent exchanging pleasantries with them and keeping conversation light. There even comes a moment when both you and Namjoon end up reaching out for the bread basket, only to pull away once you discover your hands had ended up meeting halfway. As you grow bashful, you notice his mother smiling tenderly and his father chuckling at the abrupt affiliation. 
Once the evening begins to come to an end, you excuse yourself through the use of your own fatigue and request to head to bed first. They waste no time in understanding, with Namjoon’s father even wrapping a hand around his son and expressing that he needed to discuss some things with him anyway. 
You leave the room as he heads off with his family, granting you with some much-needed time and space. 
***
Treading back, you pause at the large wooden door that leads into your room. Your eyes briefly skim over the fine carvings on the wood, instead choosing to scrutinize the direction of your right and left side. A shadow casts over your pupils and your hand presses against the door, letting it slowly creak wide open. 
Step by step, you stroll inside and let the light fade out, replacing itself with only darkness. 
The moment the source of luminescence disappears, you move within a flash. The handle is locked, tugged at for a confirmation. There’s a speck of radiance coming from the small lamp you’ve turned on, enough to see the large suitcase you’ve brought get yanked out. 
Zippers are flying and the cover is ripped off. Clothes are frantically thrown astray, dumped into a careless heep without much of a second look. Your hands are weaving through the material and running rampant, eyes flickering with something akin to desire and alloyed with increasing unease. 
Once your hands meet with metal, a twinkle emerges within your orbs. The spindle of ore is unwound; detangling the material in a quickened manner. It looks distinctly similar to what one would use for electrical purposes, set with the intention of providing light in grim areas. 
Right. The intention. 
Unraveled, you cautiously drift over to the large window by the bedside and crank it open. Peering outside, there’s no glimmer or streak of luminescence meeting your eyes, only a dark, simple gray sky. 
Unconsciously a breath of relief leaves your lips and you reach out, reclining your body just enough to reach above and then below the window’s hilt. The instrument effortlessly blends in, appearing like a simple cable that’s been tightly strung around. 
You lean back and rummage through the luggage on the ground, pulling out a small plastic box that doesn’t appear to be much, but more or less, is the sole thing you couldn’t have departed without. With a small hinged click, it connects to the thin barbed string you just unraveled and right when a quiet buzz resonates through, does a smile tugs on the corner of your lips. 
A knock resonates through the box. Followed by another, and then another. It’s succeeded with a prolonged silence on your part, your entire body remaining in a frozen state. 
Static echoes and you let out the air you didn’t realize you were holding from your lungs. 
Within seconds, you are nimbly knocking against the box in repetitive notions. Your actions range from different types of knocks; heavy, light, twice the sound. 
More static echoes and your eyes immediately widen, hands balling up into tighter fists. 
A heavier one. 
“I have….” 
Lighter. 
“...successfully infiltrated….” 
One last firm knock. 
“....the enemy household.”
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❝ Oh my… Whilst I’ve been diligent in progressing Eve’s search for her Adam, I must have forgotten that I was once Loki; the man who managed to murder our beloved Frigg’s only child. Mistletoes have plagued you from birth it seems, a clear sign of fate smiling down upon me again this day. I killed you once back then— and I shall kill you again now. How do you think the universe will fall, with me killing the Son of God* a second time. ❞
—— Karlheinz Sakamaki
⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻
Karlheinz and Gwen’s relationship is complicated, but that’s mostly thanks to the man himself. He isn’t sure if he wants to kill the kid ten times over, treat them fairly, or sit and watch them suffer.
They caught his eye the moment they were born, because it’s something he couldn’t see coming. In fact, the entire Exicor Family peaked his interest— considering the effects of his more advanced magic didn’t work on them. It was frustrating, yet exciting. Knowing that there was a group of people whom he can’t get an edge on would prove to be a good and useful pass time.
After taking them in at age six, Karl started to get an oddly uncomfortable feeling. A man who rarely slept, and never dreamed— Was suddenly having hallucinations and nightmares. An execution of someone he called dear. Well, used to call dear. He kept getting third person point of views of his childhood self: powerless, restrained, and in tears. He was furious, really. How dare this child, who was simply supposed to be a plaything, torture him like this? How dare he be haunted of memories which he should have forgotten, emotions he shouldn’t be able to feel.
So, he takes his anger out on Gwen. Torturing and relentlessly training them to the brink of death, before healing them instantly. If time manipulation won’t affect them, then he has no problem with doing things the hard way. He could break them down bit by bit, no matter how long it would take— It was as if he was trying to exact revenge on someone.
Gwen on the other hand, despises him— but they’re also downright terrified of him. Being around him makes them feel physically ill, and dizzy. And as they’ve found out, him laying even so much as a finger on them ‘causes a horrible reaction… Like they’re being suffocated with flaming rope.
Karl makes Gwen feel chained down, stuck and with nowhere to go. He makes them question their very existence; why they were born, if their birth actually means something. Given their contract with him, they have the unadulterated instinct to finish what they started— but is that even possible?
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*1. Oh my lord, papamaki actually NOT knowing something for once? Yeah— Whilst he says “the Son of God” here, he’s not actually sure about Gwen, or Adalfieri’s godly origins. After all, First Bloods can’t reproduce with just anyone, let alone a God. Instead, he was referring to Angelo, the king who ruled the realm before Giesbach. The man was referred to in history books as ‘A God amongst Demons.’ That is, before the description was changed shortly after Giesbach’s rule began.
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nikethestatue · 3 years
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ok so u know these posts where azriel is made out to be toxic? and they say he does it with mor and elain. let’s say that’s true. literally what makes them think the same thing wouldn’t happen with gwyn?? if he had this so called toxic behavior with 2 women what makes gwyn so special he wouldn’t do it with her? like why are they acting like gwyn is prythian’s therapist? i find it very hypocritical and i promise you gwyn isn’t special.
He is only toxic when he is with the 'wrong' woman. All his toxicity disappears when he is with Gwyn. But let's examine, shall we?
Let's recall the times he was 'toxic'.
Mor:
He told Mor that she cannot/should not go to the Human Lands and try to infiltrate the Human Queens' palace, because she'd be caught and strung up.
Rhys agreed with him.
Cassian, by the way, told her a similar thing, later on, when he told her that he didn't want her to go to the continent, and needed her with the army.
Rhys agreed with him.
Are they also toxic?
Azriel lost his temper against Eris during the HL meeting. He didn't lose his temper against Mor. He didn't say anything to her at all. She was insulted and he assaulted the person with whom he had a very bad and turbulent history.
He was the only one who spoke up against Tamlin when Tamlin was insulting Feyre, his High Lady. He warned Talmlin, another High Lord not to speak to Feyre the way Tamlin did.
Perhaps, he doesn't like it when women are insulted? Maybe it goes back to watching his mother who was abused and insulted and tormented by his father and stepmother? Perhaps it's knowing about what happened to Cassian's mother too? Perhaps it's watching what happened to women in Illyria, how they were clipped and treated in general?
Maybe he attempts to protect and defend and save females, because there is residual guilt of a son who couldn't protect him mother?
Going back to Mor. He clearly had feelings for Mor, at least back in the day, when they were teens. She and his 'best friend', both knowing of his feelings for her, still went ahead and slept together. Not only did they betray him as a friend/brother, but also put Mor in grave danger. The whole affair resulted in Azriel volunteering to go into AC and rescue her. It was he who found her with nails embedded in her womb. So, did 'toxic' Azriel go on some crazed revenge journey? Did he guilt Mor for sleeping with Cassian? Did he challenge Cassian? He did none of those things. He wanted to evoke the BD against Eris and Beron, perhaps wouldn't mind killing Keir, but he was so toxic and completely incapable of controlling his emotions and behaviours, wouldn't he have done all of those things? What's more, knowing that it's Mor's right to call the BD, he, and Cassian, stepped back, letting her deal with the situation as she saw fit.
Beyond that, with Mor--what did he ever do to her? He sat next to her at the dinner table? He looked at her? They do live as a family unit, and it would be hard not to glance at her. From what we know, it was Mor who begged him to go and finally dragged him to Rita's, it's Mor who was capable of getting him to talk, it was Mor who held his hand, who had no problem sunbathing in front of him and Cassian when they were sparring. It was Mor who had an assigned chair in HoW with a golden pillow. If she was so disturbed by him and he was so threatening in his actions, wouldn't we logically assume that perhaps she'd avoid him like the plague? She never did. In fact, she very much did the opposite.
Lastly, Elain.
So his toxicity stems from the fact that unlike Amren and Rhys he doesn't want to send someone he cares for and someone who is not tested at all in any kind of combat/scrying to find objects so powerful that they had to be 'forgotten' by the world?
He voiced his opinion, not even in front of her, but to his HL and part of the IC who are making these decisions. Did Cassian want Nesta to go? Or scry? Not so much.
What else did he do? He armed Elain with TT? Did he say that she should be hidden somewhere? No. He did what he could for her, and that was that.
Now, curiously, the same people who claim that he is possessive, domineering and toxic towards Elain and Mor, in the same breath claim that him not reacting to Gwyn being in the Blood Rite and caring little about her, and sort of forgetting that she was part of the whole deal was because he felt that 'they trained her well' and she was in no real danger.
So which one is it?
I think that the most honest answer would be--he does care for Mor and Elain. Doesn't want them to get hurt. But doesn't curtail their freedom or capabilities. He doesn't really care about Gwyn in the same way. He doesn't want her to be hurt, I am sure, but she in not front and center in his mind. He isn't 'changed' with Gwyn, isn't better --he is just not into her.
Bottom line is that I refuse to qualify him as misogynistic or toxic. I feel like he respects women much more than some other, very prominent, male characters in the books. Not wanting to see the woman you love/like in danger isn't some flex on her autonomy. It's a pretty normal thing that men are conditioned to do.
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hello! i was wondering if you could write the following request; you are a member of the Brotherhood, the most dangerous assassins league of Middle Earth. To say that the Company of Thorin Oakenshield is both impressed and intimidated is an understatement.
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The Company/Reader: Killer Good Looks pt.1
Trigger Warnings: Referenced assault and child abuse, murder
----
To say you're an excellent fighter would be a gross understatement.
You're the very definition of a rogue; you like shiny things, you're stealthy, cunning, persuasive, what are we missing...? Oh! And you're also an infamous deadly assassin for hire, and you get hired alright.
You're wanted (in more ways than one), for people are always looking for someone to fulfill their dirty deeds for them.
Almost everything is on the table with you; you'll steal things for people (and yourself), kill if the price is right, infiltrate and lie, and many other things, however, there are some things off limits.
For example, you won't kill kids. You never have and you never will, you flat out refuse; you also don't sell yourself to others for pleasure or other things of inappropriate nature; and, most importantly of all, you don't kill those whom you have a relationship with (meaning you don't kill friends, though those are few and far between).
When you were but a child your parents sold you off to put bread on their table, and you knew nothing but torment from that moment on.
For months the lady's husband would sneak into your rooms at night, and she would always pretend not to notice; she took to releasing her frustrations out on you under the false pretense that you were an issue, beating you, berating you, yelling, abusing; they were horrible people taking advantage of a 10 year old child in every way imaginable.
You felt no remorse when you finally gathered the courage to slit their throats one night, and to this day you still don't.
The news of your deeds spread quickly, for they proved to be quite shocking and a wonderful topic for conversation.
A mere child servant manages to kill their masters unseen and unheard, escaping into the night never to be seen again? That would catch anyones attention. And it certainly caught the attention of The Brotherhood.
They found you, took you in, and honed your sloppy skills to make you into the perfect, lethal weapon.
You've killed more people than you can count, stolen more than even the richest man has, and lied to everyone you've ever met at least once.
It's safe to say that you're not exactly a stand up citizen.
Your name, as well as the name of the organization who taught you all you know, is well known throughout Middle Earth which is why you were, ultimately, employed to assist and protect the line of Durin in their journey to reclaim Erebor...
Except, unbeknownst to them, you have ulterior orders from The Brotherhood regarding the operation.
Once the dragon is either confirmed dead or slain and the mountain is reclaimed, you are to kill the Durin's (and anyone else who stands in your way) and claim the mountain for The Brotherhood.
When you were first given this assignment you had no qualms with it.
Yes, dwarfs are strong, brave, and resilient, but you are fast, intelligent, and one of the best fighters in the organization because of your early start and ability to disconnect yourself from almost every situation. Also, you don't know them, any of them, and you've never had trouble killing royal, powerful people before.
It was supposed to be easy.
You joined the group in a cute little place called The Shire in a hobbit hole belonging to one Bilbo Baggins, and when you met everyone you figured that killing them would be easy, but as time went on you began to forget about your mission.
Everything started out simple. You didn't talk much and they stayed away from you for the most part; partially out of intimidation, but also from reservations on disturbing you.
You're a private person, and they'd hate to make you dislike them by being nosy or prying.
Gandalf is the only one who knows of your past, but even knowing who you truly are, he never for a second suspected what your true purpose was.
It's around the time you all leave Rivendell and return to the road when things start to change.
Thorin wanted to keep a schedule and reach the Misty Mountains before the end of the 4th week, and halfway into the 4th, you're already there are the entrance to the mountain pass.
Because the group makes such excellent time Thorin chooses to reward the group with a day and night full of rest to spend restocking supplies, regrouping, and relaxing, which is something that benefits you all greatly.
By this point, you've worked up enough 'trust' to actually sleep in short bursts around them, and you take full advantage of this day of rest to regain your strength.
At some point during the night you manage to fall asleep, and hen you wake you find that you managed to pass out for a good 4 hours.
The very first thing you notice is Dwalin sitting not far from you, and the blanket draped over your resting form.
To say you're taken off guard would be an understatement, for you never expected to be treated with such tenderness (or at least, tenderness by your definition considering the life you've lead).
"Dwalin...?" You call after a time of looking ahead, wanting to find out his motivations.
His gaze snaps over to you and a small, greeting smile falls upon his lips, "Good evening. It is mid-night, I'm sure you'd like to know."
You glance briefly up at the sky and observe the position of the moon and stars and find that he's correct, then your gaze returns to his face. "I see. What are you doing over here, though?"
The balding dwarf looks a tad more sheepish when you ask your question, and his voice contains slight embarrassment, "Well, we know you don't much like sleeping around us, or in general, so I thought that keeping watch here may help you feel even a bit safer."
Those words shock you to your very core.
"You'll always be safe with us, you should know. You protect us in waking, so the least we can do is return the favor in sleeping."
Any and all responses that come to your mind in this moment seem inadequate in comparison to his declaration, so you're left sitting there looking at him with a blank, yet dumbfounded stare.
"You needn't say anything in response. I just thought you should know." Another smile graces upon his lips, and then his attention turns back out towards the darkened tree line surrounding the mini camp in a half circle. "Sleep more if the desire is to suddenly strike you."
And, for some odd reason, you do.
---
For the first time in what has to be years, you sleep through the night and do not wake again until the sun beckons you to do so.
When the first light shines through the trees and makes the forest sparkle with morning magic, you arise and find that a new dwarf, Ori, has taken the place of Dwalin.
A feeling, one that you can't identify, rises within you, and you find yourself unable to handle it.
"Ori." You greet curtly, "I am going to depart for a time. Expect me back in 20 minutes."
The young dwarf looks up at you and nods shallowly, not even entertaining the thought that you would need an escort. "Alright. Get back safely."
His words linger with you after you leave, for the act of being cared for is alien to you.
When was the last time someone genuinely cared for your well-being and not just what they would lose if you were to perish? When was the last time someone thought of you as a person who could be harmed instead of a weapon that maybe tarnished every-so-often?
These thoughts plague your mind as you go to search the game traps you lay around the camp the morning before, and you find that the prize is well worth the early journey.
3 rabbits, 2 squirrels, and a wild hog around 2 feet long and a foot wide. The hog you caught along the way, actually. It had been sniffing around one of the game traps you sent (the trap wouldn't have been strong enough to hold it anyways), and you wasted no time in throwing a dagger straight into its' head.
You string up the rabbits into a line of rope and carry the hog over your shoulders (it's really heavy, so you made sure to evenly distribute the weight), and then you head straight for the group with your prizes in hand.
When you enter the clearing you're noticed immediately, for the game hanging from your body draw a lot of attention.
"Odin's beard!" Gloin exclaims, jumping up from his spot once his eyes fall upon you, "Look at all of that!"
All eyes are on you as soon as the red-haired dwarf alerts them to your presence, but you maintain a mask of nothing even despite your discomfort with being the center of attention.
"Where did you get all that?" Fili calls, getting up and approaching you to help carry the load.
You shrug off the line of rabbits and squirrels to him when he begins to tug on it and bring the hog to the middle of the camp, dropping it down heavily.
Bombur looks up at you with a grand smile and praises you in his low, baritone voice, "Well will you look at that! Now that's a hog."
You dip your head in acknowledgement of his compliments and offer right after, "Do you want me to skin them?"
"Oh, no, no! You have done more enough for us, we can manage that at the very least." The older dwarf assures you, patting the fat belly of the swine, "Thank you, lass. We haven't had a commendable meal in months, so this will be a real treat."
You received so many compliments and acclimations that you almost began to blush, but that's an unconscious ability that had left you a long time ago.
Everyone traveled with full bellies that afternoon, and there was plenty of leftovers to last everyone well into the next day as well.
Things like this are seldom the topic of talk or praise in the organization you work for, and you can never rely on anyone. You're all thieves, after all. Liars, tricksters, murderers... how could you trust someone like that to have your back? But... somehow, they trust you to protect them and their precious royal friends.
You: the liar, trickster, and murderer.
They sleep in your presence as if you hadn't stolen millions in treasure, product, and money; as if you hadn't killed a quarter of the people you've met in your lifetime. They trust you, the real you (or at least the realest version of you that there is), and it's a truly foreign feeling.
Of course, even though these good feelings long since lost to you have returned for a time, you keep yourself in check with the thoughts of what they would do to you if they found about your true intentions.
The images of their betrayed, angry faces, the disgust that would shine in their eyes when they realize what you're truly capable of... you're always sure to not lose sight of your end goal; the Mountain of Erebor and its' lost treasure. If you're to fail, you're certain that you'll be killed (either by the dwarfs or The Brotherhood), so you don't even entertain the thought of abandoning your mission.
---
Later in the day, during the trek up those horrible, treacherous mountains, you're approached by Bofur, the hat wearing dwarf with a smile more contagious than any sickness.
"Hello." You greet curtly when he falls into step beside you, eyeing him in your peripherals. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Oh, no." He shakes his head no and reaches up to straighten his fur hat, "You just looked a little lonely, is all."
Lonely, huh?
You don't reply right away and look ahead with your usual blank expression and dull eyes, though you do feel an uncomfortable, appreciative feeling swell inside of you. "I am not lonely." You inform him matter-of-factly, though when you glance down at his face you see that your words have slightly hurt his feelings.
Your heart twists slightly painfully when you see his saddened countenance, and before you can even think about it you're blurting out, "But I welcome the company regardless."
His frown is immediately replaced with a brilliant smile and his eyes positively shine with enthusiasm; you never thought your acceptance would garner such a reaction from him (much less anyone for that matter).
The dwarf practically talks your ear off while the 15 of you travel up the Misty Mountains, telling you everything he possibly can about his homeland, family, and feelings regarding the journey (as well as other things), and while all this incessant blathering would normally irk you, you actually find that you quite like it.
Bofur's excited speech does eventually die down when it starts to rain, though, for he and yourself both think it safer to concentrate on the hike as its level of danger grows.
It isn't long before night falls, and once it does the rain becomes a much more dangerous obstacle.
There is lower visibility and the rocks become horribly slippery, though neither of these things could ever hope to top the giant stone beasts that begin to battle right in front of you all.
The stone giants don't seem notice any of you, and if they do then they simply don't care, and you all barely escape with your lives. They throw huge boulders bigger than any building you've ever seen, and their hand-to-hand combat leaves you all shaking against the mountainside, fearful of falling to your deaths as you sway every which way.
To your, and everyone else's luck and great joy, a little cave in the mountainside appears before you all (after a horrible death scare with half of the company), and it becomes your resting spot for the night.
You, like usual, choose a spot closest to the cave entrance with rock that covers both your back and left side and fall asleep effortlessly. You plan on only resting for four or so hours, hopefully until the rain passes, and then you can resume watch so the others may regain their strength (they're heavier and bigger than you, so they need more rest and food).
Those 4 hours (and an extra half!) pass by without issue and your internal clock eventually wakes you up.
One of the first things you see when your eyes flutter open is the stone ceiling of the cave hovering above you, and the next is Bofur who sits in the little watch spot right across from your sleeping area.
You sit up as soon as your sleep addled mind clears and your blurry eyes gain focus and call softly, "Bofur, go ahead and take a rest. I can resume your watch."
The dwarf jumps slightly when your soft voice breaks through the silence and reaches out to him, but he doesn't move to get up. Instead, a small smile upturns the corners of his lips and he whispers back, "No, you do a watch of your own every night and refuse to wake anyone else up often enough. Please, go back to sleep."
He noticed that?
You can't even keep the surprise from your face, for your eyes widen almost imperceptibly and your lips part slightly. "I..." You've been shocked speechless, something that you thought impossible.
"We have all noticed, in case you're wondering. Now, go ahead and resume sleep. I've still got another 30 minutes of watch."
And, for some reason, you don't protest.
Sleep calls to you and tugs at your eyelids, making them heavy and causing your eyes to burn. What spell have they put you under to make you tired again under a simple command, you wonder?
You fall back asleep despite yourself, but it doesn't last long, for within 20 minutes after Bilbo tries to leave and the storm begins to quiet, the floor opens beneath you all and swallows everyone whole.
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newtonsheffield · 3 years
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Do you have and head cannons or drabbles of Anthony helping Benedict when he learns Sophie is pregnant before the wedding? And the Bridgerton boys just being Dads 🥰
Ahh okay we have Dadthony whom we know and love, now introducing Benedad and ladies, aren’t we thrilled to have him?!
Anthony had turned to his very smug looking wife halfway through his brother's wedding reception and said are you going to tell me what you're so smug about tonight? Kate. had scoffed and waved him off but he'd persisted as he watched Kate's eyes track Benedict and his new wife Sophie across the dance floor. The fourth time he'd asked her she'd tutted loudly pulled him in close and said For Fuck’s sake Anthony, Sophie’s obviously pregnant. Anthony’s head and shot towards his new sister in law who was radiating happiness as she spoke with Hyacinth, Benedict watching proudly behind her, his hand resting just so on her waist so that it curled protectively onto her still flat stomach. Anthony recognised it immediately for what it was. He’d done it twice himself when he and Kate were glowing with the secret pride of impending parenthood. He wasn’t even aware of leaving Kate, his feet propelling him forward, and before he knew it he had his brother wrapped in a tight embrace whispering Congratulations Ben, Dad would be so proud of you. When he pulled back, Benedict turned towards Sophie who looked a little bewildered and pulled her in as well whispering Thank you for making him so happy. Hyacinth tutted calling out Kate can you come and get your lunatic please?
Benedict had been near frantic ever since Sophie had told him she was pregnant. Sophie had been a staunchly independent person her entire life out of necessity and she had found it a little difficult at times, to accept his help when offered. And Benedict wanted to help, desperately wanted to take every burden from her shoulders so that she’d never have to struggle with anything again. He’d had it been there for her in her early life so he would be here now. He would be the father she had longed for herself as a child, for their children. This would be the life she had always dreamed. Unfortunately for Ben, it seemed that Sophie was completely unencumbered by pregnancy. He shouldn’t have been surprised, she was the most nurturing person he knew, of course motherhood suited her down to the ground. She had none of the morning sickness that had plagued Daphne and Kate, nothing. She just radiated happiness and warmth like a beacon. But that didn’t stop him from hovering anxiously around her, Nervously asking if she was sure she could manage work for today? Would she like him to pick her up from work, the underground wasn’t safe. Eventually it seemed he had run aground of even Sophie’s endless patience Ben, Honey, I need you to calm down. She said in her even, measured voice that always set him instantly at ease. He’d sighed I just worry about you Soph, and the little bean. She’d smiled softly and said I know, and I love you for it, but honestly you’re driving me a little insane. Which was the closest thing to critical his kind wife could likely manage Kate said Anthony was taking the boys to the park today, why don’t you go with them?
Kate had opened the door with a sigh 30 minutes later, Sophie said she was sending you out of the house. A little smirk growing on her lips. Seconds later Benedict felt something knock into his legs with a screech of Uncle Ben! Benedict knelt and lifted Edmund from the ground tossing his up in the air to his delight. Anthony came down the stairs, Miles resting on his hip, saying in a mock whisper Here’s Uncle Ben Miles, Auntie Sophie’s kicked him out for being such a pest. Benedict rolled his eyes at his brother, as Kate said I’m not sure what you’re laughing about Anthony, you were so unbearable it’s a miracle our children have a father. Benedict felt a little smug as Anthony’s face dropped into a scowl. 45 minutes later he and Anthony were strolling through Hyde park, Edmund on a bicycle, the handle of which held firmly in Anthony’s hand as the pedals swung unused, Miles strapped to his front in a baby carrier. Benedict watched his brother happily, his heart glad. I’m really happy for you, Ant. You’re so happy with your family it’s just nice to see. Anthony had grinned broadly, looking more carefree than Ben had ever seen him and said, shrugging I feel like this is what I was meant to do. Be there for Kate, look after our Kids. It makes me so unbelievably happy. But really though, don’t listen to Sophie, you hover as much as you like! That’s what we Dad’s do. Hover in case we’re needed. And without even looking down, Anthony’s hand shot out and caught Miles’ dropped toy.
Benedict had very nervously strapped his month old son Charlie into his car seat that first Saturday morning. Sophie had been absolutely exhausted, trying to care for their son, even with Benedict’s flexible work schedule. And she’d said Why don’t you take Charlie out, Honey? Like an unsaid plea. Benedict had nodded though he’d bit his lip, anxiety gnawing in his stomach, what if he did something wrong? What if something happened. But he’d called Anthony who’d been more than willing to join him. They strode through the park with renewed purpose, chatting happily, Charlie strapped to his front and suddenly all of his worries floated away. Anthony cleared his throat and said a little gruffly, We might have a few more member’s of our little club soon. Benedict had looked up questioningly and Anthony had said, with a blinding grin Kate’s pregnant. Benedict’s heart had leapt with happiness for his brother who couldn’t have looked any prouder if he tried. Benedict looked up and said Are we still pretending we don’t know Lucy’s pregnant? Anthony sighed, Yes but Greg should be joining us soon so fingers crossed he spills the beans.
This got really long! My bad!
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alatismeni-theitsa · 3 years
Note
I have no idea when you posted asking about the experiences of Greek diaspora / Greek heritage but I just saw it so I thought I’d send in my stuff.
I am so disconnected from it because my grandma didn’t want to pass the language into her children so she could have adult conversations they wouldn’t understand. And she didn’t pass on the culture because her husband was Jehovah’s Witness. And so I just feel an intense feeling of grief over a culture that I’m apart of but know very little about. I have some recipes my Yiayia made, a cookbook by women from the Greek Orthodox Church in NYC, and two lullaby’s. (We lived in the US with my great grandma so we had more interaction with Greek culture than our cousins who’s lived with my grandma in Ireland)
And there’s not much out that I’ve found where I’ve been able to learn about my culture and not felt like I’m intruding. Especially because I don’t “look Greek” like some of the other greek kids at my school. I look Irish. I don’t have a Greek name and I don’t speak any of the language. The only way I’ve found to connect is through food but I’m limited to the cookbook because if you look online it’s hard to find recipes that aren’t just trendy mediterranen inspired health food. My mum is starting to reluctantly tell me a little about my family from Greece. And my grandmas cousin and her family is very very greek. So if I fly down to see her she’ll teach me stuff (though she’s the matriarch of the family so she’s pretty intimidating). Anyway. That’s my experience with my my greek heritage.
I just sent the long-ass ask about Greek heritage but I forgot the bit where I was Greek enough to get bullied over Greek food. Yay. Dolmades are good though I don’t care if they “look little poop”
___________________[END OF ASK] __________________________
Hey and sorry for the delay 💙 I asked some time ago but that doesn't mean newer answers aren't welcome anytime!
Dear, I am grieving with you for the loss 😔 I can't say the reasons the language wasn't passed on seem very logical to me. There are things that didn't get passed on to me because my grandparents thought I would automatically know, or they didn't bother teaching, so I can relate to that feeling 😔
You are definitely NOT intruding! I can understand why it feels this way after what you told me, but it seems to me you have every right to know! Greek culture welcomes anyone from Cameroon to Japan, so, realistically, nothing should stop you from having access to it. Plus, it's your own family!
Oh damn, the "I don't look Greek" plague 😩 As everyone knows there's no specific qualifier of appearance for being part of Hellenismos. On this particular occasion, I'll go one step further and say that, unless you have raid hair, you probably look like a lot of Greeks.
There are Greeks whose appearance is rare for this ethnicity, but "looking Irish" is a thing that 1/4 (at least?) of Greek people relate to. One thing Greeks of diaspora often hear is that "they don't look Greek enough", aka they look "too white". Your surrounding Greeks might not look like you but if you go through my tag #Greek people, which has hundreds of videos, portraits, and photos of Greeks from all eras, you might realize you look like many Greeks.
There are Greeks whose appearance is rare for this ethnicity, but "looking Irish" is a thing that 1/4 (at least?) of Greek people relate to. One thing Greeks of diaspora often hear is that "they don't look Greek enough", aka they look "too white". Your surrounding Greeks might not look like you but if you go through my tag #Greek people, which has hundreds of videos, portraits, and photos of Greeks from all eras, you might realize you look like many Greeks.
Again, appearance doesn't matter in the slightest when it comes to culture, but I sensed your appearance issue was the flavor of "too white looking" and it's the most infuriating thing to me because many, many Greeks look "too white looking" for the standards foreigners have made for them!
Anyways, on to the food! I am so happy you are trying some of the recipes :D (And that you are doing everything to connect to your heritage if it brings you joy!) How dare they speak badly about dolmades??? 😭 Many countries close to Greece also have that dish and we must find them so we can have a dolmades alliaaaaanceee!
I'd also like to add, don't feel pressured to get too much into the culture if you don't want to. Many Greeks in Greece keep different types of distance from their tradition and that should also be your right. Again, do and learn whatever pleases you! Just keep in mind that you are valid in your current state without going the extra mile to learn every Greek thing possible.
People across the globe can have various degrees of Greek heritage and if that "amount" of heritage is "less" then it's okay and natural because it's what happens when people immigrate. The more generations pass, the more this old part is left behind. For example, many Greeks in Greece can also come from other backgrounds (Austrian, Egyptian, Slavic (various countries), etc) and they, too have many parts of their older heritages lost. They practice Greek customs almost exclusively now.
There's a cultural plane that shifts all the time in countries around the world and families assimilate to a new culture as they adapt to a new place. At this moment you are also part of a US regional culture and there is no shame in *also* identifying as part of it. That won't erase any Greek part of you.
The above doesn't aim to discourage you in any way on searching more about Greek culture! It's only a general disclaimer. People from inside a culture (usually in diaspora) tend to judge those who participate less, as if any person with X heritage is in a place to keep the same amount of touch with it 🙄
Sure, tradition is very important but nobody should be forced to practice it if they don't want to - or if they just can't. Tradition is people, and some traditions change or die naturally because many individuals from the inside wanted it to.
It's hard being caught in between - not "American enough" and not "Greek enough". The paradox is that you must first feel secure in this position. Granted, it's easier said than done but mentally it will save you the mindset of needing to be "more American" or "more Greek". As you understand, you don't need to feel apologetic to Americans for who you are, and you don't need to feel apologetic to Greeks in America or anywhere else for the exact same reason.
Some Greeks of diaspora feel distressed about their accents in Greek (or they don't want to admit they have an accent) or for not being perceived as Greeks automatically by other Greeks when they visit the country. But that's unavoidable because these differences exist and people raised in Greece can spot them. Therefore, people in the US whom you are afraid might feel superior to you for knowing more things about Greece, may come to Greece and feel like foreigners.
So they shouldn't make this a race beacuse it's not one they would normally "win" by their own standards. Chances are, after you learn anything you can, you will also have distance from what is considered the "default" Greek culture. It's part of the organic process of time + distance from the country, and Greeks with half a brain won't look down on you for that.
What I mean to say is that there is no certain bar an ordinary person can ever pass to be given any prize of the "ultimate Έλληνας". Not even Greeks in Greece know where that bar is when it comes to their own touch with tradition. There is no golden standard, no finishing line!
I encourage you to continue your journey on learning Greek things and while you are at it, know that objectively you have nothing to prove to anyone, even though you might feel otherwise. I say, fly to your grandma's cousin and let her teach you stuff!
You know that the intimidating demeanor Greek aunties and grandmas have doesn't necessarily reflect their love for you. You might also know that older Greeks are more reserved in showing appreciation. And in the hypothetical scenario where they don't really like you that much, they are still bound to you because you are family, so feel free to use their expertise 👀 If they don't give their knowledge to their family, whom are they going to give it to?? The neighbor??
If they throw any shade at you for now knowing enough take a deeeeeep breath, remember this isn't a race, and continue learning from them. (And you will feel the Greek experience of not deemed worthy enough by your relatives 😂 It's a win win!) If you haven't, check the poem Ithaca by K.P. Kavafy! I think it applies to this situation in a way!
You can always come here and browse thousands of posts about Greece! (In the Desktop version the most important show up on the left of the main page). I have #modern Greece #Greek custom #Greek tradition #Greek dance #Greek cuisine #Greek literature and whatever else your heart desires!
If you want to slowly learn Greek, Greekpod 101 and Easy Greek channels on YouTube have great content! I also have my tag #learn Greek on this blog with sources and explanations. (#Greek language and #Greek word can also be useful!) They are all accessible to English speakers!
You now have a distant Greek auntie who is at your disposal for any type of question (even the "stupid" questions)! Literally, ask me anything and I will try to answer it or find more info for you! You can DM me if you don't want to leave an ask. You are not intruding and it's my pleasure to help!
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kyber-crystal · 3 years
Text
steady || obi-wan kenobi
summary: even amidst the chaos of the war, obi-wan is always there to remind you that you don’t have to carry your burdens alone. 
words: ~1.8k
warnings: mentions of death, violence, flashbacks to traumatic events (essentially mild PTSD), angst-to-fluff, mutual pining (oops my cliche side has jumped out here)
a/n: requested by the one and only @rentskenobi !! i’m sorry if this was really bad lol this is actually my first time writing for him. the middle-end was really poorly written i’m so sorry fffff
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The war was beginning to take a toll on you.
It was affecting everyone to an extent, of course. As you walked around the halls you were met with tired eyes and lowered, worn-out voices telling you that you weren’t the only one who felt completely drained.  
You threw yourself into your work—working extra hours with the Council and helping strategize battle plans, organizing committees and having longer meditation sessions with Yoda. If sacrificing a good night’s sleep was what it took to keep all the intrusive thoughts at bay, then you were more than willing to take up on the offer. 
You did your best to keep your head held high but as time passed, it grew increasingly difficult. Hope seemed too far away on the horizon for you to reach out to it and actually believe it was in fact, going to get better. You were trying, but it got harder every day.
And Obi-Wan noticed. As a Jedi, you’d trained yourself to show no emotion whatsoever, or very little if you ever did—but being as observant as he was, he was quick to notice. It was all the little things that gave it away—the way you were constantly clearing your throat before speaking because it sounded hoarse and wobbly—as if you were on the verge of tears, the dark circles underneath your red-rimmed eyes, and how your hands always went up to fiddle with the moon-shaped charm he’d given you that hung from your neck.
You hadn’t eaten or slept in a solid six days. The dull migraine at the back of your head and sharp hunger pangs in your stomach told you to rest up and get proper nutrients into your body, but you ignored them. Maybe if you keep yourself on your feet, it’ll be easier to forget, you told yourself. 
But no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that you were okay, the guilt still sat heavily upon your shoulders. 
You knew you could’ve stopped them; you had all the power to. But you didn’t. You couldn’t, and you failed.
It was only a few weeks into the war when you’d lost your old mentor, your friend, your parental figure whom you stayed close to long after you’d completed your Trials—and, being who you were, you took it upon yourself to put all the blame on your shoulders. Because technically, it was, was it not? You knew if you’d gotten there in time, if you were even just the tiniest bit faster and more observant and paid better attention, she would be alive. 
You caught a glimpse of your reflection in the bathroom’s mirror as you entered your quarters, and did a double take. 
Gripping the edges of the sink, you stared back at the woman in the mirror. Her hair, normally plaited in elegant braids or pulled back into an updo, tumbled loosely and informally down her shoulders. Were those eye bags always there to begin with? Or had they recently appeared?
It was maybe half an hour or so later that you finally crawled into bed—without bothering to change. Fatigue was pressing down on your body rather heavily, but sleep never came.
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You woke up screaming. 
There was no way in hell you were going back to sleep—not when the prospect of your premonitions coming true were still fresh in your mind. You weren’t going to lose him the way you lost your master—the thought alone was too much to bear.
Without thinking about what you were doing, you got out of bed and quietly made your way down the hall. 
Obi-Wan yawned as he opened the door and rubbed his eyes with one hand. “It’s 2 in the morning, what—Y/N, what are you doing awake?” He immediately paused when he saw the remnants of teartracks on your cheeks, falling silent as he placed a gentle hand on your back and ushered you inside. 
Without a word, you climbed into bed, and Obi-Wan didn’t say anything either as he pulled the sheets over you. 
You longed to be like him—to spend your nights not worrying about being plagued with terrifyingly realistic nightmares, to fall asleep almost at the very moment your head hit the pillow. The last time you remembered such a thing happening to you had been nearly a full year ago—but with the way time passed you by now, it felt like a lifetime. You wanted to ask Obi how in Force’s name did he sleep so well amongst an intergalactic war with seemingly no end to all its pain and suffering?
"What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing,” you mumbled as you turned your face more towards the pillow. It smelled just like him—warm coffee and citrus—and for a moment, it seemed to calm you down.
He sighed, and carefully slid in between the sheets right next to you. “Why don’t you try and sleep, alright? You need rest.” 
"Mhmm.”
“Now get some rest, my love.” 
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You woke up sweating bullets, chest rising and falling as you struggled to catch your breath. You initially panicked when you looked around and couldn’t see Obi-Wan, but your shoulders sagged in relief upon seeing he was still there, sleeping peacefully right next to you, his hand brushing against yours ever-so-gently.
He stirred in his sleep slightly as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position. 
“Y/N?” he mumbled, still only half-conscious as he turned to face you, immediately sitting up as well as he saw you staring blankly ahead. “Y/N. Are you alright? You’re trembling.”
“I’m fine,” you replied, but the shakiness in your tone gave it away. “Obi-Wan, go back to sleep. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” He took your hand in his, gently rubbing patterns into your palm. Force, the way his blue eyes shone brightly even in the dark...the way the seemed to stare straight into your soul... 
“I can’t sleep.”
Obi-Wan paused for a moment. He got up out of bed and motioned for you to do the same. 
“What are you...”
“Shh. Come with me, there’s something I want to show you.”
His warm hand slipped into yours again as he led you down the hallway and up a long, winding staircase, and kept holding on until you finally reached the top, pushing open the heavy doors together to reveal a sprawling, open balcony. 
“What is this place?” You were practically speechless as you stared up at the star-littered sky. 
“It’s one of the meditation balconies...I often come here when I find that I can’t fall back asleep. Stargazing is rather helpful in clearing the mind.”
“It’s beautiful,” you exhaled. “It’s so hard for me to find time to come even during the day...”
You sought solace in staring up at the skies. It was rare, being able to gaze upwards into a cloudless, clear abyss when you were so often surrounded by the atrocities of war. So you were grateful for any night in which you were able to see the stars.
“You seem tired,” he noted, gazing worriedly at your appearance. 
“Who isn’t at this point?” you exhaled, faking a laugh. “I’d be genuinely surprised to find someone around here who gets adequate rest.”
“Y/N, please tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m fine, Obi-Wan. I keep telling you there’s no need to worry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“What?” The sudden sternness in his tone took you by surprise. 
“You’re not okay, Y/N. You haven’t slept properly in a week, nor have you had any proper nourishment along with it. You almost passed out in the middle of sparring with Anakin, and Master Windu released you from yesterday morning’s meeting early because you were on the verge of knocking out cold. You don’t think I’ve noticed? I’m worried...if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, how am I supposed to help?”
You bit your lip and anxiously fiddled with your thumbs. “I haven’t slept in six days. Seven...if you count when I fell asleep during that meeting.”
“A week? If you keep it up, you’re going to fall ill. You almost have.”
“I can’t sleep.”
“Why not?”
You shook your head. “I had a bad dream."
“And you didn’t bother to tell me?” Obi looked more concerned rather than upset. “Y/N.”
“I didn’t want to be a burden to you. You have enough on your plate as it is,” you mumbled. 
“You’re not a burden. I’d much rather listen and help you than have you go through it alone.”
You let out a long sigh and crossed your arms over your chest, staring blankly out at the darkened horizon. It seemed that everything nowadays served as some sort of bad omen. “I’ve been having these dreams for months on end...but I don’t even know if that’s what you can call them anymore. And I can’t lose you. I can’t let any of this become real.”
“You won’t lose me, Y/N, you have my word.”
“Are you sure?”
“Dreams pass in time.”
Releasing a shaky breath, you leaned forward and pressed your forehead against his broad shoulder, letting him slide his arms around your waist and gently kiss the top of your head. He lets his lips linger there; neither of you say anything about it. 
Obi-Wan found himself going down a risky path. He knew better than to grow attached. But now that he was made well aware of your fear over losing him, his equal fear towards having you taken away from him as well had become too prominent for him to to keep brushing off to the side. If he couldn’t do so much as protect himself from imminent danger, he would do everything in his power to keep you safe under his wing for as long as he could. 
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He glances down at your peacefully dozing figure for several moments. You looked so serene, so young, while you slept all curled up against him and wrapped up in the sheets. And right then and there, the thought of wondering how it’d be to wake up next to you every day for the rest of his life hits him like a truck. 
Brushing your hair away from your forehead, he places a hand to your face and skims his thumb across your cheekbone. He wants to stay like this, even if it’s only for a little while longer.
This isn’t right, he tells himself. But he can’t resist; there’s something about you that prevents him from doing so.
“You’re staring,” you mumbled, eyes still closed.
Obi blinked in surprise, slightly taken aback. “You’re awake.”
“...What time is it?”
“Half past nine.”
“I’m going back to sleep,” you muttered, throwing the sheets over your face to cool yourself down. Despite your effort, you could still feel your face burning. “I haven’t rested in six days. Goodnight.”
He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Alright. Sleep well, my love.”
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Hiya dearie. Can you do Naraku trying to win over Inuyasha's twin sister? I really hope you are doing well and staying safe
Heya! So, I’m going to ignore the Inuyasha’s twin part and just go for a Naraku trying to win over reader. As I have said before, I’m happy to write, but I’m not going to write out your OC’s. 
Fandom: Inuyasha
Character: Naraku
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When the two of you supposedly should have met was beyond you. There he was, one day, out of the blue and you had thought nothing of it. You had probably mistaken him for another man, just another person on the road, an unfortunate one, someone who needed help. All you knew was that you wanted someone to do the same for you if you found yourself in such a situation. That was all you had cared about; to treat others as you wished to be treated. Never had you imagined that this would bite you as it did now.
The signals were subtle at first. The sightings of small time demons became more frequent around you, always near, but never involved. Not directly at least. They would attack villagers you were with, they would attack the marketment you had chatted with, they would tarnish the crops of the lands you had passed. They were small things, but it was as if disaster followed you. Soon enough this defined you and people started to avoid you like the plague. Soon, everyone believed you to be a disaster incarnate yourself, and nothing could convince them otherwise.
You knew yourself not to be fully human. You blamed it on the half of you that was part of that world. You cursed the half of you that could never be accepted, not in either world. Most of all, you cursed the world, for letting you down time and time again. For working against you, for rejecting you.
It was with this resentment that the trail you left behind became more destructive. The negative emotions that seeped out of you seemed to have been noticed. By whom, you still didn’t know, but there was a feeling that it was someone stronger than you, someone who you rather didn’t want to meet. For someone so drenched in that negativity couldn’t possibly be anything that wished for anything good.
“Mistress,” the first time the word was whispered to you, as if in response, with so much reference, you had started, not sure if it was meant for you. No one had treated you with such respect. Not in a long while since the disasters started to follow you, but especially not in your lifetime as a half demon.
“Mistress, just say the world and we shall fulfill your every promise.”
The declaration had startled you, for now you were sure that you were the one addressed. Confusion settled in as you wondered if these demons had followed you from a distance all this time out of servitude. Was this the reason why you had encountered all the discrimination and coincidences so far?
“Don’t be afraid, mistress. The lord has instructed us to assist you in all your wants, he wishes for your happiness.”
After months of inexplicable disasters and tragedies following you there suddenly was an answer. But why this answer was so gruesome, why it was so passively given and by whom, it was all lost on you.
“The lord just wants you to be happy,” the little demon spoke, and you felt your heart lurch into your throat. What lord’s attention had you caught, and why had he believed this to be your happiness?
A feeling of dread settled within you as you thought of the possibility who this mighty lord might be. The amount of demons under his name suggested that this was no small time fry. The fact that he didn’t seem to mind someone like you, someone of neither world, suggested that he did not believe in the pureblood supremacy that many seemed to uphold. But there were only few of such great demons of which you could think, and even fewer who were known for their unsettling nature.
You never asked who the lord was, but you would come to rue that soon enough.
“My dearest,” the ominous voice spoke to you. From the depths of the shadows, surrounded by the miasma, clouded away in that fur. You knew who this was, you had heard the stories, listened to the descriptions, but you had never expected to have anything in relation to him, nor could you remember.
“How long has it been, why are you so afraid?” Naraku spoke, his voice silkily sweet, smooth as the rivers and warm as the bodies that were wasting around you, “don’t you know,” he continued, and you felt your breath stock, “it was me who looked after you all this while.”
How were you supposed to take the news of the great Naraku after you? You wouldn’t have dared to think, you wouldn’t even hope for it, but now that you found yourself in it, you found that there was only absolute dread, and true disgust lingering behind. For a man that had given himself over to all his bitterness and hatred. A man who believed that he did you right by frightening the world of your presence. That was a man who knew no true love, and this you knew was no love either.
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