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queers-gambit · 5 months

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Love What You've Done with the Place

song by Rascal Flatts

prompt: he's never been a man built for relationships, until you come into his life. now, the house feels like a home.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 1.8k+

warnings: more brain rot rambles, probably cursing, NOT edited, very docile, fluff, romance, hardened men being simps.

It started with clothes. Just a few, here and there; left behind, forgotten, purposefully stuffed in his dresser for when you stayed the nights. He didn't mind, in fact, Tangerine encouraged you to bring whatever you felt comfortable with leaving since he hated how early you'd leave in the mornings to get ready for work. He found his mornings were peaceful when you were around; neither rushed, both content, starting your days on high notes with each other.

So, he made the decision and found an old sitting-vanity for you. He put it in his bedroom simply because he was fascinated with the hair and make-up process; thinking it was incredible that women had such skill. When he came home about 3 months ago, he noticed your vanity when he first got home from a particularly difficult mission. Your chair was draped in an old university tee shirt, and he smiled.

It was like watching your comfort grow and it warmed something deep in Tangerine's heart. Your make-up wasn't always in a neat array, sometimes just left from a quick touch-up; making the house feel more like a home.

Tangerine also bought a strainer for the shower's drain to catch your hair. He didn't get angry like previous boyfriends did when he found strands of your hair left behind - not on purpose or by some gross standard, but it was natural that hair shed in a shower and not every single strand could be picked up. So, to make life easier, he just quietly bought the hair trap, placed it, removed whatever empty bottles from the shower, and went about his day. But then he started to notice your hair left other places.

His counters, his sink, the floor, your vanity, his bed sheets and pillows.

Tangerine had his issues with possessiveness in the past, but this wasn't remotely similar. No, Tangerine found himself smiling when he would find your hair in his clothes; thinking it was funny, almost like a mark or badge of honor to designate him as yours. It was a brief thought, but Tangerine actually felt giddy by the idea of people just knowing he was off the market 'cause his lady's hair was clung to his suit jackets.

He liked it. He really did. He'd not admit it aloud, but he liked it.

Tangerine wasn't the most humble man in the world, but he certainly liked to flash what was his. Golden jewelry, expensive, tailored suits, shining Italian leather shoes. And now, you, the woman who invaded his heart and head - and now his home. He adored showing you off, feeling affirmed and invigorated by the longing glances men threw your way, and while he expected jealousy from other women, they seemed more impressed by your beauty and grace as well.

He remembers one night, after a several weeks long mission, he just wanted to hold you. His throat was a little choked up when he called you, knowing you were at home after reading an earlier text. So, you rushed over in the middle of the night and he'd yet to let you go home - three days later.

"You've gonna have to let me out of bed sometime," you smiled playfully. "I have work tomorrow - and no, I'm not calling out again."

"C'mon, love, don't leave me alone," he whispered, looking like a beaten down puppy. The mission was much harder than he'd let on, but Lemon usually always filled you in. He thought it was important for you to know certain details that Tangerine was sure to omit, knowing those were the details that haunted him.

"I'll be back after my shift," you promised, nuzzling his nose with your own. "I also need new panties and clean clothes."

He sighed, "Some in there," he pointed to his closet now.

"What?" You giggled.

"You've left enough behind, got a bit of a collection goin', yeah?" He smiled softly, wrapping you back up in his arms. With a sigh, he relented, "I'll let yah go to work, love, just... Need this a bit longer."

You obliged, but the next day, you were gone before he woke up. With a frown, Tangerine dropped back onto the bed - but inhaled deeply when his nose buried into your pillow. He hummed in pleasure, feeling himself brim with contentment, bringing the fluffy item to his chest and nuzzling it; your perfume left behind to soothe him.

Was Tangerine clingy? Oh, for sure! He didn't think so, but you knew better. The contract killer liked you close, liked his hands on you; even if it was just a hand on your waist or a nose near your neck. He missed you when gone, but he usually held himself back from texting you all day - wanting you to be able to focus on your job.

But that day? He was inept, just wanting you; wondering if he paid you the same salary, if you'd consider just staying home. So, he texted you several times.

This obviously threw you off a little, knowing him better than himself most days. But he just missed you, so, you sent a selfie - promising you missed him too and would be home right after work.

He saved the photo and tried not to dwell on how you said you'd "be home" and not "come to his place". He had to take a few moments to calm down, feeling his heart zing with unfamiliarity - but not being afraid of it like he had been when you first started dating. He could recognize he was happy, that he was excited to see you everyday, and that the idea of coming home to you was far too appealing to ignore any longer.

It seemed neither of you needed to actually have an official conversation about living together. Lemon didn't mind, in fact, he was the one who insisted you have your own key; adoring you and whatever affect you had on his emotionally constipated brother. So, some mornings, Tangerine wasn't surprised to find a slightly damp towel left hanging in the bathroom, nor by the make-up on his counter - you using that mirror because of the fluorescent lighting. He never put it back, he didn't move it - he liked seeing it. It meant you were still here, and the idea of it being gone made his stomach knot with anxiety. He also wasn't surprised when he went to use the shampoo you insisted would help his curls flourish (you were right), only to find it damn-near empty. His shower gel, too.

When you came home that evening, you had Target bags in hand; replacing whatever was empty, making Tangerine grin to himself by how in-sync he felt with you. He'd never had a connection such as this, only ever feeling close enough to Lemon, but you changed everything for them both.

How Tangerine ended up with someone courteous was truly beyond either of them. Someone kind, caring, adventurous, sweeter than pie - someone definitely out of Tangerine's league, something he never let himself forget. He adored you to your core - thinking someone such as you should never have gotten tangled up in someone like him, but he knew, if the time ever came, he'd never be able to let you go. In fact, most days, he had to convince himself not to just pick you up and carry you around while he did chores or ran errands.

The very idea of losing you sent his heart into his stomach; hallowing his chest in a harrowing fashion that made it hard to breathe. Just a week or two ago, Lemon found Tangerine in the kitchen, hand to his chest as if he couldn't catch his breath, heaving for air; his worry spiking, but quickly realizing what was wrong.

"Bruv, you've gotta breathe - calm down," he tried to coax. "You're having a panic attack, you've gotta just focus on breathing."

"Fuck off with that!"

"Seriously, man," Lemon insisted, catching Tangerine in a vulnerable state enough that he actually listened without much of a fight. When Tan seemed a little more under control of his own emotions, Lemon asked, "What the hell happened?"

Tangerine shook his head, "Nothing t'worry 'bout - "

"Bullshit," Lemon snapped. "I've never seen yah like that, mate, the fuck happened?"

It was embarrassing, but Tangerine managed to answer, "Just... Just started thinking that if she ever left me, I'd fucking crumble, mate."

This made Lemon frown, "She's not gonna leave you, man. You know that. The girl's madly in love with you, yeah? Like madly in love - like to a degree it makes her stupid in the head, all right? Obviously, you too," he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately ran a hand over the back of Tan's head. "You're workin' yourself up, 's all right. You don't have to think about that - ever - 'cause she's it for you, mate. Yeah? Hear me? She ain't goin' nowhere, not without you."

Tangerine needed the assurance. Being alone after having a taste of your love felt impossible to Tan now, something he was never bothered by before. Seriously, why give a fuck about a relationship when he had his brother? Someone who loved him unconditionally and wouldn't leave? And then he met you and understood why people gave fucks about relationships.

It was as if every room you ever entered was brightened up simply by your smile. Your laugh wasn't always the most ladylike, but it was genuine and true and always made Tangerine smile to himself. During any public outing, Tan was always close - we've established this - but he liked to play a small game. One of your love languages was physical touch, so, you liked kissing him if even just for a single second. He was aware of your lipstick, feeling the tacky substance stain his cheek, but he wouldn't wipe it off. His game was to see how long it'd take before someone would point it out; his reputation didn't always warrant others to feel secure enough to speak up. Some nights, Lemon would motion to his cheek, and other nights, you'd return home, remove your make-up, and swipe make-up remover over his cheek to clear the color away.

However, it wasn't often you ventured in public due to Tangerine's innate introverted nature. You went if The Agency made it mandatory or if you were feeling stir crazy, but majority nights, Lemon would find you both lounged on the couch in various positions.

Sometimes, you'd be watching a movie together or binging a show. Other times, you were reading a book while Tangerine poured over paperwork. And once or twice, Lemon's come home to find you belly laughing and playfully scolding Tangerine as he tried to paint your toe nails. It was a homey sight to Lemon: seeing his brother so in love and at ease, hearing your laughter, the entire flat filled with warm smells of burning candles and homemade meals.

It wasn't evident at first, but with you laying in Tangerine's arms, clothes left on the floor, bellies full of whatever meal you had prepared that evening, favorite show playing on the bedroom TV, he realized that he loved what you had done with the place.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine imagine #tangerine oneshot #tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x f!reader #tangerine x female!reader #bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train 2022 #tangerine atj #atj tangerine #atj #atj character

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bill-the-dog-for-the-check · 2 months

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I want to go back to how things were.

I want to go back to when I believed that the progressives were on the right side of history, fighting against oppression in all its forms, and had critical thinking, honest compassion, and understanding in a way that the right--inundated with racist conspiracy theories and absurd lies--did not.

In many ways, I'm a perfect demographic fit in the pro-Palestine circles. I'm bisexual. I'm a young university student who's been progressive for as long as he knew what progressivism was, and I never experienced genuine economic insecurity or wondered if I'd eat that night. In another timeline, maybe I'd be there marching and shouting their horrible slogans. But there's one, teeny little thing that ruins it, which makes me fall through the cracks and renders me politically homeless, outcast by the progressive left and the MAGA right.

I'm a Jew.

And I'm trying so, so hard to hold compassion for the suffering of minorities who have not extended us that same compassion. I'm trying to maintain my progressivist urge to go out and help minorities in solidarity, but it's so hard when they make it clear that they hate us and want our state dead and gone. I supported BLM, but Al Sharpton, Leonard Jeffries, Alice Walker, James Baldwin, Louis Farrakhan, Malcom X, Jesse Jackson and many others either were or are wildly antisemitic, especially Sharpton and Walker, and so are the BLM movement's leaders, who openly sneered at Jews for being shocked by them by announcing, "I guess their activism was just transactional. How (((Zionist))) of them!"

And the queer community forced me out of their ranks for merely questioning whether the war in Gaza is a genocide, for pushing back against them saying that Hamas is fighting oppression. And spread antisemitic lies about me, claims of harassment and supporting genocide to my friends because I dared to question them. And they've chosen to side with those who would throw both of us off roofs for being queer. Cast out by the outcasts.

Like, what do I do? Our only allies are Hindus, Iranians, Kurds, Republicans, and Christian Zionists (respect to all of these groups for that... even you Republicans. This is one of our only points of agreement). That's literally it. No loud show of from indigenous nations supporting what is effectively the most successful anticolonial land back movement in human history. No push from "antiracist progressives" against rising antisemitism and genocidal terrorism from a reactionary fundamentalist group against a historically discriminated group.

And they aren't even just leaning back and being silent--many members of these groups are being actively antisemitic--especially the progressive left, which has morphed into the most antisemitic mainstream political movement since the Nazis. Instead, we're 'Zionazis' and genocidal colonizers who aren't even oppressed anyway, that's just evil Jewish Zionist lies designed to stoke sympathy for their unrelentingly evil nature, which we can't even help. The notion that Jews are intrinsically predisposed to evil acts and deception--never heard that one before.

So now, when I look at pictures of Pride Parades, a celebration of an identity of which I am a part and would have previously killed to attend--I wonder... would I be allowed to hold up a rainbow flag with a Magen David on it? If I asked any of their views on the state of Israel, what will they say? What about on Zionists who support its existence? Would all parts of my identity be respected, valued, and celebrated? Or would I be forced to leave the Star of David flag at home, pretend I don't notice their antisemitic views, and pass the litmus test of disavowing Israel before being accepted?

I feel suspicious and wary of the very community which I am 'supposed' to belong in. I feel uncomfortable. I hate, hate, hate that I feel this way. That I've become more closed, more cynical, more angry. Those of us who fall through the cracks, who hold multiple marginalized identities--queer and Jewish, black and Jewish, Indigenous and Jewish--we are ignored and silenced, our voices and experiences entirely spat upon as being a front for 'Zionist crimes' or whatever new buzzwords they create.

I've decided that first and foremost, I am Jewish. The me that was proud to be a part of the queer community is dead. I want to support the progressive causes of antiracism and social justice, but they hate us. They want us dead. They wouldn't view my participation as being a genuine gesture of solidarity, but an evil Jew Zionist seeking to con them and co-opt support in order to aid our evil apartheid genocidal settler-colonialist white supremacist illegitimate entity in a land that should really be given to Hamas anyway.

How am I supposed to hold space for other minorities when nobody is holding space for us right now?

#antisemitism #jewish #jumblr #leftist antisemitism #left wing antisemitism #jewblr #antizionism #progressivism

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enter-the-bogman · 1 year

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Reading through the Tortall books in publication order is funny because you start with Alanna “the village healing woman taught me all she knew” going off to become a knight, and end with Numair “world’s most powerful mage” as young Arram Draper first learning magic at the Carthaki university. Because of the 40 intervening years and five(?) different series further developing the Tortall universe, the magic system is now SO much more complex. Arram is learning an elementally-based, heavily theory-dependent form of magic where conceptual power is applied to physical objects or energy constructs. His teachers make him develop skills in non-magical areas like juggling, jewelry making, and gardening so eventually they can safely guide him through complicated applications of magic. In comparison, Alanna complains that Duke Roger is spending too much time on theory in order to prevent her and her peers from learning “actual magic” and becoming his rivals. And then she throws purple light at things until they explode or she passes out! We also learn from Arram’s misadventures that most of “magic” is creating methods of applying, storing, and accessing power so the user doesn’t drain their own life force and pass out or die. Alanna uses NONE of these techniques; instead, she pulls her magic directly out of her own life force, thinks about what she wants it to do, and hopes she reaches that goal before draining herself. She even (sometimes) factors in the impact of magically draining herself of energy while attempting tasks that require both magical and physical endurance (such as when deciding how much magic to spend warming herself when making her blizzard hike to claim the Dominion Jewel.)

For one thing, this makes Alanna insanely powerful. In In the Hand of The Goddess, she breaks open Roger’s magically locked door (presumably designed by Roger himself-- an immensely strong and well-trained sorcerer) by shoving her own magic into it until it MELTS. This builds an Alanna who decided magical theory was useless at age 12 because she has an immense access to magical potential energy, and who never learns the basic life-preserving models of magic usage that are taught in intro-level classes. She doesn’t have an interest in learning more sophisticated forms of magic, except in healing, which she cared about enough to learn non-magically. So when she heals, she uses magic as a guide or a supplement, rather than depending on it and then draining herself. Since she isn’t attempting complex magic, most of the time the limitations of drawing directly from her own life force doesn’t impact her that much. The things she does magically all have much more efficient alternatives, but they require an understanding of magical theory and ability to store energy that Alanna never learned! If she wants to do larger spells, she just keeps feeding energy into it until it breaks or she does.

The intervening series and Numair’s story makes Alanna’s simultaneously more and less believable. It now makes sense why everyone with even a slight understanding of Alanna’s type of Gift gets angry at times and tells her she’s using magic irresponsibly. (Before, we only understood Alanna’s side of the argument: “Well, I didn’t die and it worked, so calm down.” !!!) The fact that she never actually dies and only rarely is seriously harmed through her own magic use now requires some suspension of disbelief!

#I would love to see the moment when numair first saw alanna use her magic #and realizes that she pulls from her own life force to light a CANDLE #i'm sure they'd have a huge fight with numair trying to convince alanna to at least TRY meditating and alanna refusing out of stubborness #tamora pierce #sincerely cockleburr #tortall #alanna of trebond

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creaman · 27 days

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—BECAUSE KUNG FU PANDA 4 KILLED MY GRANDMA, OKAY?

To preface, I watched this movie and I'm genuinely tweaking right now so I had to write down a very brief (lie) criticism on this film — which you should boycott, by the way.

Starting with the things I liked, before briefing my primary points of criticism:

Po's Character Regression

Po and Zhen's Dynamic

The Chameleon

I'd also yap about Lord Shen and the death of the art style and the entire narrative and pacing and use of the staff of wisdom but my therapist says being such a hater is 'unhealthy' or something. My heart is full of hatred.

SPOILERS for the entirety KFP4 for the 2 people who care.

KFP4 undermines and ignores the previous three movies — Unwriting character developments, outright removing the Furious Five, straying from the character design philosophies and is completely inconsistent with the established lore.

Things I Liked About Kung Fu Panda 4

The Chameleon's character design

Visual gag in the Tavern where Po uses a recently thrown axe as a hat rack (made me laugh)

When Mr. Ping did this:

so cute! the little heart!

Po — Character Writing

Po, as established in the previous movies, is confident in his abilities and identity — he’s learnt inner peace, he’s matured as a character. However, in KFP4, his character has completely regressed. He’s immature again (such as KFP1, possibly worse) and says verbatim, “only knows kicking butt and taking names” — UNLEARNING inner peace and insisting that “…being the Dragon Warrior is all I know.”

It’s childish, and sort of Hotel Transylvania-esque.

Which isn’t helped by the comedy, the dialogue — a large chunk of which are jokes in the style of:

Master Shifu says something philosophical

Po quips off of it / doesn’t get it (i.e. Whoa!! beat I don’t know what that means.)

Oh, it’s great, yeah, very tolerable. Po’s shenanigans are normally reeled in by the presence of the Furious Five who are generally more serious in nature, creating a much needed balance in the dynamic — So without them, it’s just Po becoming increasingly obnoxious and insufferable with every consecutive quip throughout the screenplay.

Po and Zhen — Character Dynamics

[No more graphics sorry I'm too angry]

As if it wasn’t obvious that Zhen was going to be the next Dragon Warrior the second she was introduced.

Zhen, as a character, has no depth besides being a quippy thief. She quips, she steals. This character has no motives — it can be assumed that the writers intended on a ‘change of heart’ thing, but she isn’t established as evil, her working for the Chameleon is written as a (albeit poor) twist reveal.

By which point, her taking either side wouldn’t make sense, given that she has shown no loyalty or attachment to either Po nor the Chameleon.

The movie artificially strengthens their bond by having Zhen start opening up about her backstory out of nowhere for no reason but they have done nothing to grow closer to each other.

Small tangent, her backstory is exactly what you’d expect it to be with no subversions or even emotional weight. Woe is me I was so small and hungry I had to steal to survive. Glossed over in about a minute.

The majority of the dialogue between Zhen and Po is spoken exposition — explaining how powerful and badass the Chameleon is, explaining how ‘we have to go here to do that’ and ‘this place was cool until the Chameleon did such and such’, and the rest of their time together is spent engaging in filler chase sequences and fight scenes.

The Chameleon

Where do I even start…

This is where it becomes apparent that the movie relies heavily on telling rather than showing —

She is the weakest villain by far, not only in universe but as a written character; which is particularly disheartening because I genuinely adore her character design and feel as though a shapeshifting character has great potential.

The movie artificially inflates her power by insisting through exposition that this is the most capable antagonist thus far (lie).

The audience is TOLD by Zhen and various restaurant patrons that the Chameleon is a powerful shapeshifting sorceress and that she 'dominates the city' whilst the film does nothing to showcase this.

'Dominating the city' meaning letting her henchpeople run amock and bully the civilians just like Lord Shen's wolves in KFP2... uninspired.

I just realised they didn't even give her a NAME what the FUCK is going on

She describes HERSELF as ruthless, clever and unsentimental when comparing Zhen to herself.

She says HERSELF that she’s “Stronger than every opponent you’ve ever faced.”

Let’s see what vile reprehensible things she’s done, shall we?

Gently push someone down some stairs

Her first appearance is through Zhen’s exposition, as opposed to the dramatic and memorable entrances of the previous villains. Her motives or character aren’t established until the final third of the film. She doesn’t even FIGHT anybody until the final third of the film; and even then, her fight sequences are uninspired and she never really poses a real threat. (She goes down in two hits.)

That being said, WE CAN STILL SAVE HER GUYS WE CAN STILL GET HER OUTTA THERE I'M COMING FOR YOU CHAMELEON I'M GONNA DRAFT YOU A PROPER BACKSTORY AND MOTIVE AND YOU'RE GONNA BE THE MOST THREATENING VILLAIN THUS FAR

There's a scene after the climax of the film where all the kung fu masters and previous villains from the spirit realm bow to Po. I'm not going to provide my thoughts on this because I fear I may burst a blood vessel. Good day!

Closing Statements

To put it simply, Kung Fu Panda 4 was my Megamind 2.

The film rejects its predecessors in every way. It really feels as though they brought in somebody with no prior knowledge of the franchise to direct the movie.

It's a film that relies heavily on telling rather than showing — banking on the previous three movies to carry it through the box office.

It's just really disheartening to see studio execs turn one of the best franchises into a safe sequel cash grab and regress every character's development.

Nevertheless. I do adore the chameleon's character design so I might do my own take on her character.

As far as I'm concerned, there is no fairy godmother, there is no tooth fairy, and there is no kung fu panda 4.

#creaman talks to drywall #kung fu panda 4 #spoilers #I'm actually tweaking #sorry I stopped drawing the graphics because the film crushed my soul #you drive me to drink kung fu panda 4 #when the rantsona crosses their arms #hating on main #kfp #discussion #criticism #kfp4 #technically a vent post #i've lost it #the chameleon #zhen #po

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xfgpng · 9 months

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“𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲”

— : [nsfw] arranged marriage, loss of virginity, virginity kink, unprotected sex, praise kink + pet names

— wc : 4.8k

it’s an auspicious date for the ideal wedding. as ideal as a wedding can be for someone who wasn’t in the loop until a week ago. she had never dreamed of getting married, it was all too much for her but she knew her place.

her parents are far too secretive about everything and she’s only been told that the man she’ll be marrying is someone of high status.

she’s was not surprised in the least, considering her parents cared more for their status and money than they did about her wellbeing. she wonders what she would’ve done without saeko tanaka, a lovely maid servant her parents had hired when she was barely a teen and saeko had finished high school.

“dear, you know your place in society, don’t you?” her mother smiles but that smile has never reached the old woman’s eyes and it left her feeling uncomfortable.

she sometimes wondered if her parents would be more proud of her if she was a boy. she was smart and ambitious and had already graduated university with her degree but it was never enough for them.

greed was an ugly demon, always lurking close by.

“first we bow to the heavens and the earth, darling”

she woke up with a loud gasp. the air around her felt cold and damp despite it being much warmer these last few nights.

it sounded like something had whispered to her but she supposed anyone would be jumpy, preparing for a wedding they didn’t want to be apart of.

her friends were right, it was ridiculous to agree to marry someone she didn’t even know. they wouldn’t even tell her his name.

“the age of social media” her father rolled his eyes, “i don’t need you going around making a mockery of this family on that ridiculous x app you like to be on”

what about what she wanted? she knew that none of that mattered to her parents anyway so it was pointless arguing and running away would create bigger problems.

there was no way she’d be able to fall back asleep and she knew that if she tried to sneak down to saeko’s room, there was a chance she’d run into her father since he was always up in his study and she was too angry to talk to any of her parents.

“it was just a dream” saeko says, helping her prepare breakfast, “don’t read too much into it”

she did have a had habit of being a superstitious but for days she’d been having strange dreams and then she finds out she’s engaged? it felt like a warning of some sort.

“i just don’t understand why they can’t tell me anything about him” she groans, “what difference does it make? i’ll still have to marry him”

“maybe he’s a politician” saeko offers which doesn’t help ease the nerves at all. she never imagined being married to anyone that important, let alone a politician.

she wouldn’t put it past her parents though, since it would make them look good in the eyes of the public. attorney general’s daughter marrying into a prestigious family and she can only imagine the people flocking to her mothers design company.

she felt like a pawn to them.

“a red veil is compulsory dear, you know how important this is for your father and i” her mother sighs, “don’t make this difficult for yourself”

“what does he do?” she asks, “the man i’m supposed to marry”

“why does it matter?” her mother rolls her eyes, forcing her to stand upright as her measurements are being taken, “he’s very important and it won’t do us any good if you upset him”

“i feel like a doll” y/n frowns, “it’s too tight”

“you are a doll” her mother cups her cheek, “the prettiest of them all and you’ll be the perfect bride”

and the perfect sacrifice

“tonight, you’ll wear white” her mother instructs, “it’s important that you look your best”

“what’s wrong with what i have on?” she frowns

“don’t be silly” her mother scoffs, “i had the maids prepare your dress and shoes and saeko will help with your hair”

reaching into her bag, she produces a beautiful black box with gold phoenixes decorating it.

“a gift, from your betrothed” her smile is genuine this time and y/n knows it’s because she cares more about the expensive piece of jewellery.

the gold chain is thin and dainty and y/n can see the tiny center piece is the “grooms” family crest. she’s heard about these kinds of traditions and she doesn’t bother fighting when her mother insists on putting it on for her.

binding.

“how beautiful” her mother sighs but her eyes are on the center piece and once again, y/n feels like nothing more than a pawn.

she would never consider herself to be superficial, she knew real beauty was skin deep but she couldn’t help the small gasp when her walked into their large dining room.

he was so tall and pale, the moles on his face making his beautiful face stand out that much more. he didn’t smile and he didn’t seem interested in shaking hands with anyone, keeping a distance from her parents as his driver and assistant, stood nearby.

their eyes met a few times and y/n felt a cold shiver run down her back. his eyes were like two beautiful black holes, way too dangerous to keep looking or you’d surely get lost forever.

for a moment, it felt like the chain around her neck burned into her skin and she winced, looking back down at her hands in her lap.

“master wants to speak with you alone”

she looks up to see the man that had arrived with her .. fiancé.

“there’s no need to worry, i’m atsumu” atsumu smiles gently, “he’s in the garden”

she nods and follows him into the backyard. it’s the one place she can truly call her own since her parents never cared about it.

“there you are” kiyoomi says and his voice is rich and deep, causing a pleasant shiver to run down her spine. it’s different being this close to him and she’s a little surprised when he reaches for her hand and it’s cold to the touch.

“there’s no need to be so shy around me” he tells her, “we’re going to be married soon”

“… right” she says because she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. it helped that he was charming and he smelled like fresh lotus flowers.

“you’ll have a garden, just like this” kiyoomi says, “you take care of these flowers no?”

“i do” she smiles, “it’s my garden”

“you can plant whatever you want” he grins, “you’ll have all the free time to do everything you like”

as long as you never leave.

“iI think my mother would’ve loved you” kiyoomi says as he watches her pour him his tea, “she liked gardening too”

“oh.. i’m sorry” y/n says awkwardly

“it’s alright” he says, “it’s been years since i lost my parents, it’s an old wound”

does that mean he chose to marry her on his own? she didn’t understand what was going on. she also didn’t know how he even met her father and what exactly did he do for a living.

the next week felt like a blur, with having to get more measurements done, to having an official dinner as a family. they weren’t even married yet but the news spread fast that y/n, daughter of the attorney general, was finally going to be betrothed.

everyone in the city seemed to be excited for the grand wedding. smaller cities meant that everyone knew each other and she couldn’t even go out with friends without people congratulating her and some people looked as though they felt sorry for her.

an elderly lady at the café she frequented couldn’t even look at her without becoming teary eyed.

“i’m not going to stop coming here” y/n tries to make it lighthearted, “i’ve been coming here since high school”

“oh sweetheart” the elderly lady shook her head but before she could speak further, her husband pulled her away from their table.

“what was that about?” keiji asks

“it’s an old people thing” maki rolls his eyes, “don’t pay them any mind y/n”

y/n tried to ignore the uneasy feeling she felt for the rest of the day. it felt like the lady had more to say but her husband stopped her before she could say anything.

was kiyoomi really someone that well known? she had never really seen or heard of him before and that made her even more confused because the city wasn’t that big.

everyone knew everyone.

“there you are!” her father exclaims and she resists the urge to roll her eyes at him.

“kiyoomi thinks it’s important that you two get to know each other before the wedding” her father says and she can hear, in his tone, that there’s no room for arguments.

“will he come here?” she asks and her father shakes his head.

“he’s sending atsumu to pick you up tomorrow morning” he holds her hand, “you’ll spend some time with him so pack a bag”

she widens her eyes at that. her parents had always been strict about dating so why would they be so comfortable to let her stay at a man’s house she barely knew? a man she was engaged to.

“and keep the chain on at all times” he reminds her as she stands, “it’s important to him”

what about me?

“we’re very proud of you” her father says, “you’re very important to us”

she tries not to cry because that’s the first time he’s ever said that to her. she can’t even bring herself to hate him because after all, he was her father.

she wasn’t sure what she was expecting but his house is much bigger than hers and much more .. haunting. it must’ve been around in his family for many years despite being in perfect condition.

“come, atsumu will have them put your things in your room” kiyoomi takes her hand, “let me show you around”

“is this—”

“i told you” he pulls her into the huge garden in the back, “you can plant whatever you want here”

“it’s beautiful” y/n smiles, allowing herself to feel just a little bit happier. at least she’d be away from her parents for a few days.

“it’s yours” he tells her, “or rather, it will be”

and you’ll belong to me.

when keiji comes by the next day, he’s also shocked at how big the house is but it feels empty, almost like the walls whisper to you when you’re alone.

“the old lady was at the store earlier” keiji says, “she was so worried about you”

“about me?” y/n frowns, “what did she say?”

“she was talking so fast but she mentioned something about an old village nearby and sacrifices”

“oh” y/n laughs, “maybe she’s paranoid because i haven’t stopped by lately?”

“could be” he shrugs, looking around the large room y/n was staying in. “her husband told me to just ignore her so i didn’t say much else”

“ah, i see” y/n nods

she doesn’t mention the weird dreams she’s still having because she knows it’s because she’s just been overwhelmed lately and while saeko did go back home to fetch a few things, she knew she’d be back.

y/n still felt too nervous around kiyoomi even though he was putting in a lot of effort to make her feel comfortable.

“how is he?” keiji asks after a moment, “do you get along?”

“he’s great” y/n sighs, “almost too perfect, it doesn’t feel real”

“do you want to get to know him too?” he asks and she nods. she could admit that she was just a bit curious about him.

“i.. like talking to him” y/n says, “he listens and he’s patient because it’s obvious i’m still on edge”

“when is the wedding supposed to be?” keiji asks

“a week from now” y/n laughs bitterly, “my father picked the date”

“god he’s so—”

“don’t” y/n sighs, “it’s fine, i’m still getting used to the idea, that’s all”

“it’s still unfair” keiji sighs but he knows to back off.

a knock on the door startles them both and y/n feels that chill from before when kiyoomi opens the door to lean against the frame.

“you’re still here” he says and y/n nods.

“oh, this is keiji” y/n smiles, “keiji, this is kiyoomi”

“nice to meet you” keiji says and kiyoomi nods in acknowledgement.

she notices the mood change when keiji leaves. kiyoomi is already very quiet but it feels different that she feels the need to explain.

“he’s been my best friend since high school” y/n says, “he got married last year to his husband”

kiyoomi looks taken aback before he smiles again, standing to his full height.

“shall we have dinner?” he asks and she nods, smiling awkwardly.

was he already jealous?

“you’re the one i’ve been waiting for, you can never leave me. i’ve waited long enough for you to finally come to me and now that you’re here, i can never let you go.

sleep well, darling”

she wakes up gasping, sitting straight up in bed. the room is dimly lit since she had fallen asleep while reading.

she couldn’t really see anything or anyone in the recent dreams but it felt so real, like she was being pulled into the darkness just before she’d wake up, gasping for air.

“am i losing my mind?”

the conversation with keiji comes back to her and she can’t shake the feeling that something is going to happen. did people experience this before their weddings?

is this what cold feet was?

she shook her head and snuck downstairs to get a drink. she needed to clear her mind and reading was starting to make her overthink everything.

“can’t sleep?” atsumu asks. he’s sitting outside in the garden as she steps outside and she nods, holding her warm cup of tea close to her chest.

“is kiyoomi home?” she asks, sitting on the porch beside him. the garden was her favourite part of the entire place and she found herself playing with her chain as she stared out into the night.

“he’s in his study” atsumu smiles, “he’d love it if you joined him in there”

“wouldn’t i be disturbing his work?” she asks but atsumu chuckles.

“he has a personal library” atsumu adds, “master says he’s seen you reading a lot”

“ah yeah” y/n smiles, “i think i’ll go inside”

“goodnight” atsumu bids her farewell and she smiles.

that’s right, come to me darling.

she knocks gently and he calls for her to entire. she opens the door slowly and her eyes widen at how big his study is.

he looks beautiful even in the low light. glasses suit him and his smile made her feel warm inside. she didn’t feel so uneasy when he was around.

“oh, this is a pleasant surprise” he grins, “is something wrong?”

“i just couldn’t sleep” y/n admits, closing the door behind her, “am i interrupting?”

“of course not” he shakes his head immediately, “you can sit with me whenever you want darling, would you like a book to read?”

she smiles then and walks further into the study and towards the large bookcases.

“you’re more than welcome to come in here whenever you want” kiyoomi hands her a throw blanket as she makes herself comfortable on the couch. “after all, what’s mine is yours”

he watches her closely as her eyes begin to droop and he wants nothing more than to reach out and hold her but he knows he runs cold and it would be a while before she got used to his touch.

“so beautiful, even when you sleep” he sighs, “do you know how much i’ve wanted you?”

there have been others but none as beautiful as you are. i didn’t keep them either but their fates were already decided when the village elders sent out their names.

i can still hear the song of the brides as they were each carried on their sedans, brought into the cold forest and left there.

this way, is easier. i got to choose my bride and this time, i intend to keep you.

“what are your thoughts on having children?” kiyoomi asks. they’ve spent the morning sending out their wedding invitations and y/n would be going home until the wedding day.

“oh” y/n shrugs awkwardly, “i’ve never really thought about it and i’m not sure if i want to have any”

“i see” he smiles, “then we won’t have any if you don’t want to”

i would never have to share you with anyone ever again. you’ll only be with me.

y/n smiles up at him as he stands to get ready for work. he kisses the top of head, something he’s doing since the first morning they had breakfast together and she finds that she doesn’t mind.

she isn’t sure she wants to go back home but she knows she has to because it’s not appropriate for them to be so domestic before their actual wedding day.

“wait for me tonight and i’ll take you home” he says, “you can spend the day in the garden if you like or the study”

“thank you” she finds herself saying and he grins down at her.

“there’s no need to thank me” he cups her face gently, “i’m just happy to see you smiling”

she ignores the way that makes her feel, the butterflies in her stomach feel like a a tornado and she hates how disappointed she feels when he lets go and walks towards his study to get his work files.

you see it too, don’t you my love? you can’t be without me either.

“you don’t seem happy to be home” saeko grins, “do you miss the garden or kiyoomi?”

“oh, he’s no longer master?” y/n asks and saeko flicks her forehead.

“don’t try and change the subject” saeko says dryly, “do you miss him already?”

“.. maybe” she shrugs, reaching up to play with her chain, “it’s silly, i barely know him”

“does that matter?” saeko asks, “i haven’t seen you that happy and comfortable when you’re here”

y/n couldn’t argue with that. she felt free when she was with kiyoomi because he didn’t suffocate her and he was happy to just be in her presence without expecting anything in return.

“you’ll be with him forever after the wedding” saeko grins, “maybe you’ll have a child”

“he seems content to just have me” y/n looks down, suddenly feeling shy, “he said we don’t have to have any if i don’t want to”

“bare minimum but he’s a keeper” saeko says, “i’m excited for you now that you seem happier about the wedding and everything”

“i think he’ll make me happy” y/n smiles, “and i won’t have to see my parents as often”

good girl, you’ll only ever need me.

the room was cold, very cold and when she reached out to turn the lights on, it wouldn’t work. she could hear the faint sounds of a piano playing and the low humming of a man, a man that sounded so similar to kiyoomi that she couldn’t help but call out to him.

“kiyoomi?” she croaks out, her throat sore and scratchy. she couldn’t really recognise her surroundings but the scene before her caused her to scream and fall backwards.

there were people dressed in black, crying softly as the picture of kiyoomi sat in the middle of the room.

it was a funeral.

his funeral.

her screams are so loud that it wakes saeko up in the other room. she had stayed upstairs with y/n instead of heading into the servants quarters where the parents expected her to stay.

“y/n, wake up it’s just a dream” saeko gently shakes her shoulders, turning the bedside lamp on, “hey, it’s okay, you’re okay”

y/n can’t really think straight, still struggling to catch her breath as she wraps her arms tightly around saeko. she knows she shaking but she squeezes her eyes shut and tries to match her breathing with saeko’s.

“what was that?” saeko whispers, “you’ve never had nightmares before”

“i.. i don’t know” y/n chokes out, “it was just so cold”

“do you .. want to talk about it?” saeko asks gently, patting her head to help her relax.

“it was his funeral” y/n says softly, “like i could hear him humming softly but when i got closer to his study, the room changed and .. it was his funeral”

“it’s alright” saeko holds her tighter, “it was just a dream, he’s alright and so are you”

it just felt so real that y/n didn’t fall asleep again when saeko left. she said she’d be okay but she couldn’t get the image out her head no matter what she tried to do.

you see why you can’t leave me?

she doesn’t know why she tweets about it but everyone seems to think it’s normal and the amount of people praising sakusa makes her feel better. it was clear people knew who he was and he was obviously well liked.

it wasn’t like she was worried about any of that, she just didn’t like the dreams.

her phone ringing caused her to almost drop it.

“hello?” she says softly. she didn’t want to be too loud since it was way too early in the morning.

“darling, why didn’t you tell me you were having a hard time?”

“i.. i wasn’t sure how to talk about it” she sighs, “it’s never happened before so i must really be nervous. i didn’t want anyone to worry”

“i’d worry about you anyway”

“could you maybe.. come see me later?” she asks, “i know the wedding is in 2 days but i want—”

“of course” he says, “i’ll be there in an hour”

“isn’t it too early? you have to work” she frowns, glancing at her bedside clock, it read 5:56 am.

“i’m never too busy for you, wait for me”

“okay” she smiles, already feeling better.

when she opens the door to find him standing there, her body moves before she can think about it and she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him down to hold him close.

“oh..” he grins, pulling her flush against him, “this is a lovely surprise”

“i just missed you” she mumbles but he still hears it loud and clear and he smiles, kissing the side of her head.

“i missed you too” he whispers, “do you want me to lay down with you?”

she nods. it was far too early to be awake and her parents would soon be getting up for their day and she didn’t want to see them right now.

closing the door quietly, she takes his hand and leads him up to her bedroom. the lamp is still on since the curtains are closed and the room feels cozy now that he’s with her.

he doesn’t wait for her to move closer, wrapping an arm around her, he pulls her against his chest.

“you could’ve slept like this with me at home” he chuckles, closing his eyes as he listens to her breathing.

“we only just met” she frowns, “i felt like this was overstepping but my dream really scared me”

“what happened?” he asks

“you were dead” she whispers, holding onto the back of his sweater tightly, “it was your funeral and there were people crying and everything felt so cold and scary that it was almost suffocating”

“look at me” he says and moves her back just a little. he cups the side of her face and forces her to look at him.

“kiyo—”

“i’m not going anywhere” he tells her, “it feels like i’ve waited lifetimes just to be with you”

she sniffs as wipes her eyes.

“i won’t ever leave your side” he promises, “you’ll never have to worry about anything or anyone ever again”

she nods and leans closer to him. she knows it’s wrong but she can’t help wanting to be closer and when he leans down to close the gap between them, she gasps into the kiss. his lips are soft and while his body runs cold, his kisses are so warm that she sighs and wraps her arms around him again.

“you won’t leave me, right?” he asks and she nods

“good girl” he smiles, kissing her again.

i have you now. you’ll always be mine, y/n.

she falls asleep to the sound of him humming softly. it’s comforting and she finds herself having the best sleep she’s had in months.

the morning of the wedding, she sat still as her mother fixed her hair. it was the only time she ever had her mother make such a fuss over her. she was grateful for saeko and kaori, it helped her not cry.

she didn’t want to ruin her makeup.

you’re just so beautiful, why wouldn’t i want to keep you forever? you’re the perfect sacrifice. i suppose i could grant this town a few blessings.

unless you told me not to. i would do anything for you.

kiyoomi could hardly keep his eyes off her as she stood in front of him. he could hardly focus on the bows or anything else as he watched her face through the pretty red veil.

she never needed makeup but her eyes were so much more prominent with the dark eyeliner. he could only think about finally making her his.

“beautiful” he whispers and he can see the way she smiles shyly. a smile only for him.

he could see her friends glancing at each other, trying to be discreet with their texting but there was nothing they could do now. he smirks as he makes eye contact with satori.

he must’ve always had his suspicions but after all, stories are just stories aren’t they?

saeko would do whatever she could to mark sure y/n was happy or he would just have to get rid of her.

no one would dare come between them or he would wipe the whole town out.

the bed was covered in a deep shade of red, matching her wedding dress. she sat patiently with her hands in her lap as she waited for him to join her.

she kept her veil down, knowing he had to remove it for her.

she was nervous but she knew she wanted to be with kiyoomi and it was clear he definitely wanted her just as much.

“lie down for me darling” he whispers, kissing her jaw as he slips the rest of his clothing off. she laid bare before him and he smirked, trailing his fingers up her thigh, stopping at her neck to squeeze gently.

“kiyoomi” she whispers, “please”

“i know” he tells her, “i just want to look at you”

i will never look at anyone the way i look at you.

he wanted to tell her everything, how he had seen her at that café she frequented. how he had set everything in motion for her greedy father and how it was just to easy to have them offer her up on a silver platter, all for him.

she gaps, grabbing onto his bicep as he slowly pushes into her. it hurt but she found herself moaning louder, wrapping her legs around his waist. she wanted all of him.

mine.. all mine..

he never cared for any of their offerings. he was almost 700 years old now and while he doesn’t remember much about the previous offerings, he knows he never cared as much as he does now.

you were so perfect and exactly what he wanted. before you, he had plans to get rid of the town that had conjured him up all those years ago for their own selfish desires.

“more omi, please” she begs, eyes tearing up when you feel him press deeper into you, his body so close that it almost felt like you were burning up.

he could give you that and so much more. he would give you everything you asked for.

“fuck, you feel so soft and warm” he whispers, gripping the back of your thigh and lifting it towards your chest.

like this he was even deeper, fucking you into the bed. your new bed that you’d spend your forever in.

“so good” she can’t help but cry out for him.

she’s never felt anything this intense before, he own fingers were nothing compared to the way he fucked her.

he knew exactly where to touch and where to kiss.

“tell me baby, who do you belong to?” he asks, gripping her jaw to force her to keep eye contact.

“you” she moans, “i’m all yours”

he believed her words to be true because he felt the way her pussy clenched tightly around his cock. a virgin, he grins down when he sees the tiny droplets of blood. it only made him harder, closing his eyes to keep his composure.

you have no idea.

#[ 🪼 ] xfg writes #haikyuu smut #sakusa x you #hq sakusa #haikyu smut #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #msby sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi smut

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maconthepen · 11 months

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I want to quit my job.

I want to get a new job.

I want to live in the city next to a cafe where they know my name and start making my coffee before I've finished walking through the door.

I want to live in a house in the middle of nowhere where I make my coffee with a Moka pot, swaying to the sound of a Billie Holiday record. My house will have a garden full of vegetables and bees, and in the middle of that garden, there will be a lemon tree just like my best friend's nonno used to have.

I want to go to cooking school.

I want to learn how to brew beer.

I want to go back to university and study literature so I can spend my nights immersed in Marlowe and Shelley and the Brontës and Alasdair Grey.

I never want to school again. Instead, I'll study the law and psychology and design from the storyteller armchair in the corner of my living room.

I want to travel, I want to run, to pick up a few outfits and fuck off and call myself by a new name and cut my hair and wear clothes I'd never believe I could wear.

I want a home in the place I was born and a cat and a husband who will happily talk with me about Star Trek for three hours.

I want move to Italy.

I want to make love to a woman again.

I want to live a thousand lives. Sometimes the impossibility of that makes me so angry I get breathless. And when I dig beneath the anger, I realise it's not anger at all. it's fear. Fear that I am not living any kind of life while I lie in my bed half the day dreaming about all of this with fog in my brain and muscles that don't remember how to give someone a hug.

#writing #or a therapy session

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tossawary · 3 months

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For several different reasons, I'm not personally a big fan of "Soulmate AUs" (universes where there is some way to determine your destined romantic partner, often by some kind of magical birthmark), though I will admit that I have read and enjoyed some of these stories before. There are lots of fun and interesting ways to explore and subvert these tropes.

But past the coercive amatonormatism of it all (which I have seen many people consciously explore in neat ways), one of the things that sometimes bugs me is the worldbuilding or lack thereof. Often, the author of a Soulmate AU is not interested in expansive worldbuilding for a short fic and that's fine and fair. They're explicitly not here to explore what known soulmates throughout history would do to culture, both in terms of social norms and actual laws of government, in a 2k meet cute fic about people finding love.

The world being largely unchanged in a Soulmate AU sometimes makes me wonder if soulmate marks or whatever ARE relatively recent in these worlds, especially when so many of these worlds have magic. How did this HAPPEN? Some of these soulmate setups are so specific and artificial in their design (timers, written words, etc.) that I can't fully suspend my disbelief that it's at all natural. I replace this system's origins in my head with the "a wizard did it" excuse. Then it would make more sense for this world to be more or less identical, just with soulmates slapped on top by a mischievous or angry god.

I have seen many people go with various kinds of "it's a blessing from the gods" explanations and I think that's fun and fine worldbuilding. (And for most people's stories, there just isn't really a need to actually explain this magic system.) I'm currently interested in the idea that someone, not necessarily a divine being, intentionally or even accidentally cast a soulmate spell RECENTLY. Some people are thrilled and other people HATE this.

"Yeah, we've only had 'soulmates' around for about 200 years, since that big mysterious spell, and it's been a big fucking mess ever since." That's a funny mild subversion of the trope in my opinion. And also, I mean, personally speaking, I think that "let's go on a quest to argue with the god wizard who says you're not my soulmate (and maybe kill him and end his stupid spell)" is potentially an incredibly romantic storyline.

#tossawary fandom #fic ideas #soulmate au

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ane-doodles · 3 months

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A Shitten situation...

Ok so, joking aside... Let's explain what happened here: At first I was just designing another Lamb, I wanted to do something a little aggressive and different to Avana... But somewhere in the design process Narinder's genes came to light and for some reason I can't explain he ended up looking like the son lost from Narilamb (a shitten)

Anyway... meet: TAO! (two versions)

Protagonist version: This was my original intention. In this universe Tao takes the place of the Lamb of prophecy, being only a child (approximately 12 years old). He is obedient and constantly seeks approval... So at the moment of the final decision he prepares to die... but at the last second the fear and anger of the betrayal consume him and he ends up destroying the red crown.

He immediately wakes up to discover that he has not actually died, and makes it his personal mission to hunt down the god who has abandoned him.

Oh but wouldn't it be interesting if I told you that sometimes the gods do want to care for and save their warriors? Yes, in this universe Narinder does intend to save the Lamb after his sacrifice, he just never says it directly which is why things get complicated, you know.

In this AU (still unnamed) Tao becomes Narinder's hunter, he is constantly angry and aggressive, he is immortal but sometimes his younger and more innocent side returns to the surface making him act again like a sad and scared child. Fortunately mom Forneus is there to hug him. At the same time Narinder (who is trapped in a mortal body) is constantly running away from him and looking for a way to repair the crown and also explain to Tao what really happened.

Narilamb version: in this "universe" Tao takes the role of the son of Narinder and the Lamb. He was summoned through a ritual (you can read the recipe in my doodle heheh). The original intention was to discover if it was possible for Avana to resurrect her species with her new powers, but in the end she ended up creating a family member with some eldritch god touches.

Bonus me trying to define how I wanted to draw him and at the same time realizing the accidental mix I made

#ane doodles yay!#cotl #cult of the lamb #cotl au #cotl lamb #ane sketchbook #chain for a promise AU #narilamb

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neymiiie · 3 months

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Eyes of the SEES members ~

I’ve always admired artstyles where every character has super unique and recognizable vibes, so decided to try it with the gang. Super fun, highly recommend!

In the process of designing these I developed headcanons for each of their eyes, kind weird but if you want to read me ranting about why I drew Yukaris pupils a certain way or whatever, feel free to click read more lol.

Makoto: I wanted him to look tired, so a lot of his eyelashes go downward instead of upwards, also eye bags because he has insomnia and you can’t convince me otherwise. I didn’t want his eyes to look hollow/empty, but I didn’t want to put super obvious highlights and I think it works? Idk. Also drew his eyes in a way that reminds me of the ocean at night (Atlus gave me a ocean/water motif and I run with it ok?). His eyebrows are kinda “messy” in comparison to the others but I think it makes his eyes prettier so it is in character to me.

Yukari: I wanted her eyes to look a little more intense and turned them a little to give them a slightly “angry look”. Yukari should have a light case of rbf imo. I feel like Yukari puts a lot of effort into her appearance, and she probably wears more makeup but I cannot draw that to save my life lmao. Her eyebrows are probably the least messy other than Mitsurus, for the same reason as the previous one. Also hard to tell, but I put hearts in her pupils because it’s cute. Really proud of these ones, they read like hers so well to me.

Junpei: Junpeis eyes were so fun to draw! I feel like he’d have pretty short lashes and slightly smaller eyes, but still very vibrant! I really wanted his eyes to look full of life but still pretty simple, and I think I did pretty well! They feel very expressive to me. Also I feel like he’d have naturally very thin eyebrows, so gave him that lol.

Akihiko: idk how I feel about these, but I guess they’re alright? Gave him a kinda intense stare ig. I gave him really long natural eyelashes because I feel like he’d have them (canonical pretty boy that he is) and I’m somewhat proud of them because I stuggle with making longer eyelashes look masculine so guess this is a win. Gave him an eyebrow slit because I was so sure he had one in p4arena only to find out he didn’t even have eyebrows in it. What.

Fuuka: I feel like Fuukas neutral expression would still look slightly confused/concerns so her eyes are a little droopy. Gave her short but thick eyebrows because I thought it would be cute. Her eyes kinda remind me of rain and I like that! Also sidenote love the fact that official art draws fuuka with teal eyebrows. The implication that she was either born with teal hair or is so dedicated to the dye job she even dyed her eyebrows is hilarious to me. I know blue is treated as a normal hair color in persona-universe but Fuuka is literally the only one with teal hair how is it not dyed but yosuke and chies is??

Mitsuru: I wanted Mitsuru to be pretty. I gave her thinner but crisp eyebrows and eyeliner. I was a little worried because before I started shading her eyes looked kinda evil?? Lol but they turned out better in the end. Didn’t do a lot of details in her eyes because it felt like it worked better that way, but gave her bright highlights in her eyes to make up for it.

Aigis: These are my least favorite, and the first ones I did. Not sure if thats awful, because I wanted them to be very different from the rest. I feel like Aigis doesn’t actually have this wide eyes but willingly widens them so you can see the whole iris. I feel like her eyes would look more normal at a distance, and most of her classmates just assume she’s got weird eyes because they’re an uncommon eye color (major “give her brown contacts please” energy). Made her eyes look like does target-thingys and slightly plastic-y.

Ken: I didn’t want his eyes to be to bright, but still lively and childish. I gave him round wide eyes + smaller and thicker eyebrows to give a more childish feel. His eyelashes are pretty short but made them point more downwards since they looked too cheerful when turned upwards.

Shinjiro: dunno how readable these are as shinji, but theyre fine. Made his eyes very dark and put bright highlights cause I thought it looked better than the grey he actually has. Also gave him major eyebags because man has not had a good nights rest since like. Last October (sorry)

#persona #persona 3 #p3 #aigis #makoto yuki #yukari takeba #junpei iori #akihiko sanada #fuuka yamagishi #mitsuru kirijo #ken amada #shinjiro aragaki #minato arisato #fanart #artists on tumblr #beating same face syndrome one body part at a time:#hopefully these are actually readable as the characters they are supposed to be to other people than me lmao

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meadow-hearthfire · 21 days

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[Insert dialogue of a ten-year-old ranting to his previously-unknown Pop dad about the mistreatment he and his sister endured in the Techno foster system just for being half-Pop.]

--We didn’t ask for any of that! We never asked to be made!! Where was all that love and care these past ten years? Where was that these past FIVE YEARS?!!

I have no excuse… I’m sorry I wasn’t there.

No kid should ever have to go through such hardship, especially not at such a young age as you were…

Despite how angry and upset they are, they’re still kids and they’re hurting and they need a hug. Also, you gotta let them get it outta their system.

---

I love @zivazivc's OCs Eddy M and Ravin! (Oh, and their Techno dad is confirmed to have been in his twenties when he had them.)

Some songs I listened to while working on those pics:

youtube

This takes place in a universe in which Floyd mans up and takes those kids in after being reminded of their existence and informed of their situation. There are some other things that sets this AU apart from Ziva’s but I’m not gonna spoil any more than I probably already am. Plus, the AU is still a work-in-progress.

The kids are sent straight to Pop Village after the events of Trolls World Tour, and all of BroZone is informed of the kids’ existence after ancestry test results come out.

Why’s Eddy M pissed at Floyd, you may wonder? It’s because Eddy M knows Floyd knew of his and Ravin’s existence from the start and didn’t bother being part of their lives until Floyd was reminded of their existence and informed about their situation. Ravin knows that too, but she’s more upset that she’s reliving the trauma she and her brother underwent.

In the Mirverse, Eddy M and Ravin’s Techno dad died when they were five, and their Techno grandparents, whom they thought loved them, shunted them off to the Techno foster system where they were mistreated for being half-Pop.

The kids are supposed to be ten years old in this. If Floyd is thirteen when BroZone split, in his mid-twenties when he had those two eggs with that Techno troll, then he should be in his mid-thirties in this (at least in the Mirverse and according to my headcanons). If you notice the kids’ heights are possibly inconsistent for a ten-year-old, please ignore this error because I was too late to fix it. Maybe their time in the shitty-ass Techno foster system stunted their growth?

Wondering about Eddy M’s bandages? Well, all I’m gonna say is that Eddy M ran into trouble and got hurt. And nope, it wasn’t during his and Ravin’s time in the Techno foster system.

As for the clothes the kids are wearing? They were gifted those clothes when they were in the much nicer Pop Village foster home/orphanage.

Notice Floyd’s tattoo? The flowers are forget-me-nots, which I picked for a symbolic meaning that's literally in the name. I’m gonna let you try to figure out the rest (; btw the tattoo design isn't finalized, so it's subject to change.

Oh, and I hope you don’t mind the alterations and errors in Eddy M and Ravin’s designs. I was almost done with the pic so it was too late to fix those errors (the bangs and eyebrows), I’ll try to rectify that and see if I can make those details work next time I draw those two. As for the alterations, I wanted to simplify Ravin’s skin for ease of drawing and I struggled to make Eddy M’s Techno troll teeth work.

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calicough · 6 months

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maybe if – hazel callahan

— maybe if she did things differently.

angst. architecture student!hazel.

hazel's hands never left the paper laid on top of her drafting table while she took a sip of her coffee. the tip of her pencil gliding and making strokes across the surface, erasing and redrawing the lines that she wasn't satisfied with, keeping in mind her professor's criticisms on her concept design. her project was "too ambitious" according to her professor, but a "refreshing idea" nonetheless. hazel understood where her professor was coming from. designing a cafe that drew inspiration from japanese, baroque, and modern architecture was bound to look... messy. she settled with a modern japanese cafe, afraid to risk her grade with her modern baroque idea.

hazel callahan was not scared to take risks. that word was never a part of her vocabulary. i mean her high school life consisted of broken noses, sore ribs, dead football players, and tiny explosives that she loved creating. but that was until you left her tear-streaked face standing by the sidewalk. the streetlights illuminated your shaking figure, head down and arms wrapped around your body. you grew smaller and smaller until hazel can no longer see you.

feeling her neck starting to cramp, she placed her pencil down and cracked her fingers before stretching her neck and her entire body to release the tension that accumulated in her muscles. she picked up her notebook that was on her bed and flipped through its pages to look back at her drafts, gathering inspiration on how the cafe's interior should look like. after stopping on a certain page, she noticed a doodle drawn at the lower left-hand corner. it was a doodle of one of your favorite characters. they were the only thing that you could draw. hazel chuckled as she gently caressed the drawing, afraid that it will disappear.

she remembers a portion of that night, a month before graduation. "hazel..." your voice wavered as you sucked in a breath. "i think it's time that we end this."

"what?" was all that she could muster out after a long silence. hearing those words felt like her heart jumped off a tall building, shattering into million pieces as it hit the ground. the tears forming in her eyes was blurring her vision of you. what did you mean by that? this has to be some kind of a joke, right? "are you serious?" she looked straight into your eyes, searching that mischievous glint that would appear whenever you're pranking her. but it wasn't there. you were actually serious.

"i don't want to pull you down with me," you told her. hazel didn't understand it back then. she thought it would be a nice surprise to let you know that she'd be enrolling in the same university as you. she thought that you'd be delighted if you learned that she rejected the offer of one of the top architectural universities in the world just because she wanted to spend her time with you and be near you. but you weren't happy. and she understands that now. she would also be angry if you didn't grab the opportunities laid out in front of you, if you didn't follow your dreams. "i don't want you to risk everything that you ever hoped for and dreamed of just for me."

hazel closed her eyes as you walked away from her and prayed that it wasn't real. that in any second, you would wake her up from this nightmare. that when she opens her eyes, you are right in front of her with that golden smile that adorns your features. as she opened her eyes, she was greeted by the walls of her dorm room. of course you weren't there.

hazel did accept the offer two days after you broke up, hoping that it'll somehow magically fix your relationship. but the damage was done and she is now staring at your doodle in her notebook. smiling to herself, she placed her notebook down on the table and returned to drawing, hoping that you're doing well wherever you are. that you're happy.

if only she had done things differently back then. maybe if she didn't outright reject the offer from the university. maybe if she took her dreams a little more seriously. maybe one day, if by some chance fate decided to bring you back together, she'll show you how much she had changed. hopefully, she'd be able to hold you in her arms and never let you go again.

aahhh!! this was inspired by the kdrama our beloved summer and the song maybe if by bibi. i rlly like the idea of architect hazel hihi she'd look so cute carrying that big blueprint tube. anyways, i hope you guys enjoyed this one! and thank you for all the love on my first work, it rlly means a lot to me :] <3

#architect hazel #hazel callahan #hazel callahan angst #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms (2023)#hazel bottoms

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melodiousmonsters · 7 months

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I'm just going to start talking about my celestials each month to give you all some low effort and fun(for me) content. Also doing full illustrations of them as well, with some design notes at the end.

My interpretation of loodvigg, named Fhobia Denta Latrostratous (they're one of the three celstials with a full name at the moment) is a fair bit different from other's interpretations of it for extremely personal reasons. They're a tad bit strange, and creepy looking, but overall they are a compassionate (in their own strange way, like almost everything about them) and creative individual that's held as a role model for all shadowkind. They also have a lavender colored ring around their pupils so their eyes aren't fully pink, which is the main difference from the cannon loodvigg, along with the subtly different feathers, lower body, markings on the abdomen, and scales on the arms.

They are generally unexpressive (tonealy, the main way monsters express their emotions) yet VERY emotional. Over the years they gradually became more in control of their emotions due to sheer life experience, but they are still a little more irrational and driven by emotion than most of the other celestials.

They hate being touched, loud sudden/repetitive noises, math, people or things that get too into the meaning of art and other stuff like that, and the texture of a few things like fish meat or coarse fabrics. There are very few things they have a neutral opinion on, one of which is the taste of blood by itself.

They love keeping up their appearance in most situations, for example, their hair isn't naturally like that, they use their saliva like hair jell and specifically style it to look like that, also they would be absolutely rancid smelling and filthy with their diet of fresh meat and preferred locals of wet warm caves. They spend a lot of time cleaning themselves, which is extremely rare for monsters. They also like eating more than your average monster, they eat like a toddler because of how preoccupied with eating they get, collecting/making taxidermy and other oddities, and all critters, especially invertebrates though.

They are majorly interested in biological sciences, specifically preservation and taxonomy. They gave the celestials and dof era monsters/critters their scientific names(no I don't have scientific names for the celestials yet, I've kinda ran out of ideas for scientific names tbh). They happen to spend a lot of their time in a very large cave network with a lot of different types of caves that make good enclosures for keeping critters to study.

They care a lot about the other celestials as they are siblings and gets very angry if something bad happens to them, only if they feel it's undeserved, their empathy is a bit wacky and inconsistent.

Also most shadow monsters tend to share in its odd mannerisms, sometimes the behaviors show up in completely non shadow affiliated monsters and no one knows why.

Disclaimer (I think that's the right word), yes you guessed right, Fhobia and the large majority of the shadow monsters are autistic, the term isn't used in universe as the monsters don't have a word for autism as they aren't that into psychology and "the way that monster is" has worked in place of a proper word historically, monsters aren't into categorizing others.

as for design notes and process here it is! all the stuff in red boxes are final.

#my singing monsters #beezleart #art #melodious monster chronicles #loodvigg #fhobia denta latrostratous

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flowerandblood · 1 year

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My Best Friend (1)

[modern! club owner • Aemond x fem!reader]

[warnings: mention of stalking]

[description: Aemond has his own club and often does business at the home of one of his business associates. There he often meets his younger sister, with whom he develops a deeper relationship through shared secrets. This is slow burn love story.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

This series has a sequel under a different title, My Beloved Nymph, which you can read here: Part 1

_____

Aemond arrived at their house a little late, angry and discouraged. He had to drive the drunk and mumbling Aegon home again and reassure their mother, that he would be fine. He was tired of being his nanny. He slammed the car door shut and walked out of the driveway onto the porch of house.

He knocked on the door. After a few moments he heard footsteps and the sound of a lock opening. It was opened by Klaus, a tall, handsome brunette with a slender face and brown eyes. He was the owner of the house and his longtime buissnes partner. He got him access to all kinds of booze - and more - to the club Aemond owned.

"Sorry, something stopped me." He said shortly as he entered.

Klaus just looked at him meaningfully.

"Aegon?"

Aemond didn't answer. His grimace was enough. He took off his leather jacket and hung it on the hanger. They went into the living room, where two other men were sitting - Albert and Criston.

Aemond immediately shook hands with the second man - they had been on good terms for years, Criston was also a frequent visitor to his club. He shook Albert's hand as well, though not as much with joy.

Albert was a slippery and unpredictable man. Aemond knew, that he had been trying to do business with the Mafia for years, and he preferred to stay away from such things. After a brief greeting, Aemond settled into one of the armchairs.

Klaus offered him a drink and Aemond just nodded. The living room and kitchen were separated from each other only by a countertop. Following Klaus, he saw, that there was another person standing in the kitchen.

The girl he saw was the younger sister of Klaus. Their eyes met. She smiled at him in greeting, and he nodded to her.

Y/N was still on University. He knew, that she was a designer and could draw. Sometimes she would sketch them from afar at one of their meetings, though she hid herself so well, that usually no one noticed. Aemond, though they had only exchanged a few sentences during their "acquaintance", was fond of her.

She didn't seek constant attention and didn't bother them, unless something very urgent happened. She distanced herself from their affairs, knowing, that some things were better left out.

Sometimes, when they drank too much and she came down to get a glass of water at night, Klaus would make fun of her and she would make him laugh and tease him. They were tossing some nonsense and rolling with laughter, causing Criston and Albert to laugh too. He envied their relationship.

Although he had a good relationship with his sister, Healena, they were never able to establish such a connection. They were both incredibly closed and distant. Y/N and Klaus were assertive and empathetic, mischievous in a comical way, but at the same time, somehow, affectionate. They reminded him in an unpleasant way of how broken his family was.

Y/N went upstairs and they started discussing business topics. Albert tried to get Aemond to take some "new" drugs from his mob colleagues, but he steadfastly refused. No amount of money or opportunity could force him to get into this shit. Most of all, he wanted Klaus to get him whiskey and vodka at a better price than before.

They talked until late. Criston was the first to say goodbye, an hour later Albert left. Aemond also got up to slowly make his way home, but Klaus' voice stopped him.

"How is your father?"

Aemond stopped. He didn't know, if he wanted to discuss this. His mother tried to talk to him about it, but he didn't want to. Not with her. Klaus, however, was an outsider. Aemond sighed.

"Getting worse." He replied after a moment of silence. "He confuses my mother's name with his ex-wife."

Klaus was silent for a moment.

"Let's have another drink."

One drink turned into two, then three. Aemond was talking about Aegon and his father. About how when he opened the club, his father didn't go there once. About Aegon having a drinking and gambling problem. That he keeps bringing home new girls, much to his mother's despair.

He was surprised, that he was spilling all this, but Klaus was a good listener. He didn't interrupt him or lecture him. Occasionally he would comment on a sentence, but generally he looked at him with understanding.

Aemond felt he had drunk too much. His ears were ringing and his head ached terribly. He rubbed his temple, closing his one eye.

"I should go home now." He said as he slowly got up from his chair. He felt dizzy and grabbed the fireplace mantle beside him.

"Oh, man, you're not going anywhere." Klaus laughed, supporting him by the arm. "Sleep on the couch. Tomorrow is Sunday, so you don't have to go anywhere in the morning anyway."

Normally, Aemond would have refused, but today he didn't have the strength. It was almost three in the morning, he could have ordered an Uber, but he was afraid he would puke all over the car.

"All right."

***

He was awakened from a deep sleep by the gentle clinking of plates and cups. He opened an eye but closed it immediately, blinded by the morning light from the windows. His head was bursting. He wondered what time it was.

He made one more attempt to look ahead and saw, that Y/N was quietly bustling about in the kitchen. He could see, that her movements were slowed down, trying not to slam cupboards and putting dishes away, without making any louder noises. Her face was literally determined not to wake him.

She glanced at him to see, if she was succeeding, and when she met his gaze, she frowned apologetically.

"Sorry, I'm so hungry." She said, as if she had to justify herself, that she wanted to have breakfast at her own home.

"I'll be making scrambled eggs and casseroles. Will you eat with me?” She asked, her voice light and unjustified contentment.

"What time is it?" He asked instead of answering, rising to a sitting position and clutching his head. He felt like it would explode. Y/N looked at him understandingly.

"Eleventh." She said, and he just let out a heavy breath. He knew he shouldn't have had any more booze, and he wished he'd not listened to Klaus.

Y/N started to rummage in one of the cupboards, standing on tiptoes. It caught his attention, that she herself was still in her pajamas. It was warm, so she was wearing shorts and a black T-shirt with the words "Depeche Mode" written on it. The corner of his mouth twitched up.

Very often they played songs of this band in his club. Apparently Y/N found what she was looking for, because she turned to him and waved a box of painkillers at him. He just nodded without saying a word, and she poured water into a glass. She brought it to him along with the pills and placed it on the table in front of him.

"Thank you." He replied, reaching straight for the package. Y/N sighed sympathetically but said nothing. He appreciated it. He didn't want to listen to mothering and lecturing about the effects of drinking too much alcohol.

Aemond got up and Y/N went back to making breakfast. He sat on the other side of the counter on the seat, so that he watched what she was doing. He had to admit, that in the chaos of her activities, he had to appreciate her resourcefulness and how she also kept the scrambled eggs from curdling and the casseroles from burning to a crisp.

At first he didn't feel like eating, but the smells, that reached his nose, made him change his mind.

"Sorry for the trouble." He finally said, realizing that Y/N was doing him a favor. She just shrugged and laughed.

"Come on. Happens to the best ones." She said and looked at him with a smile.

Only now, looking at her from a closer distance, he realized, that her eyes were not blue. They were blue-green, changing color slightly depending on the light. Her dark, long eyelashes, eyebrows and hair, made her eyes look even bigger. He watched her silently.

She had a soft, relaxed face. Her figure was slender and fragile, and she was quite short. The shorts showed off her long legs. He thought, that she’s pretty. He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of her words. "Ready!" She made the verdict, placing the food on a plate. She handed him one, which made a beeping noise.

In the meantime, she made tea for herself and coffee for him. She didn't ask his opinion, but made it the way he liked it. Perhaps because Klaus had prepared one for him many times. It reminded him of her brother.

"Klaus won't be joining us?" He asked, trying the scrambled eggs. It was tasty, though he would have added more onions to it. Y/N looked at him. She swallowed her bite before answering.

“He said he would eat something in town. He has some errands to run at one of the stores. He asked me to take care of you." She said the last sentence with a slight amusement characteristic of her.

It wasn't ironic, it was more of a mild annoyance. The one she usually shared with her brother. Aemond frowned at her, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might have been called a smile. Y/N noticed the nuance as she smiled even wider.

Aemond feared, that Y/N would force him to talk, but she didn't. She ate in silence, staring at a point behind him, her eyes betraying, that she was thinking about something.

Aemond realized, that since he'd known her, Y/N had never shown any sign of reserve or fear of him. On the contrary, she was never afraid to express her opinion in front of him. She wasn't afraid of looking ridiculous in his eyes. He wouldn't be able to do it.

His image was everything to him. The lack of one eye and his blindfold created an invisible barrier around him, a wall, a vision of a cool, distant and resolute man. Also towards women, he always felt the need to be a domineering person, who could not tolerate opposition.

On the one hand, he needed directness, on the other hand, he felt, that the women he had met so far, expected this from him. Despite the confidence, that was real, he felt tense around them even, when he slept with them.

However, now, that he was sitting with Y/N at breakfast, he felt relaxed. He knew, that even if he remained cool and distant, he wouldn't discourage her. Her behavior towards him openly told him, that she had sympathy for him, and whether he wanted it or not, he couldn't reject that.

Y/N blinked as if she remembered something. She looked at him, but in a rather unusual way. She looked like she was considering whether to ask a question, but nothing came out of her mouth. Aemond stopped eating.

"Something happened?" He asked, wondering why she was staring at him like that.

Y/N put down her fork and thought for a moment. For someone so talkative, it took her quite a long time to put her thoughts into words. He knew she wanted to ask him something serious, and he didn't know if, after talking to Klaus yesterday, he wanted more outbursts.

"I don't want to burden you. But I have a problem." She said hesitantly, waiting for his reaction. Aemond raised his eyebrows.

"Problem?"

Y/N pursed her lips. It worried him. Her expression was desperation. He had no idea, what’s going on. She curled up in the seat and swallowed.

"Albert sends me messages." She said finally. Aemond's face hardened.

"Texts...uh." She rolled her eyes as if she couldn't say it. She shrugged. "Well, you know. And he sends me pictures of himself. God." She sighed, burying her face in her hands, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. “I asked him to stop. He stops for a few days, but then it's the same again." She said dropping her hands. She didn't look at him, she was ashamed.

“When he comes here, he doesn't seem to do anything. But when she greets and cuddles with me, she does it so that I…” She paused for a moment, her eyes turning red. Her knee began to move uncontrollably. She finally dared to look at his face.

He could see, that she was fighting herself not to cry. He felt his heart pounding. He swallowed hard, looked ahead, and drank some of the now-cold coffee. He thought, that he wanted to kill him. A voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I wanted to ask you… Do you think I could talk him out of it somehow. Did you notice, that I was giving him mixed signals with my… behavior or in any other way? He once wrote to me that I pretended to be a saint, but I must be quite a... slut deep down, because of how I look at him." Her voice trembled as she uttered the last sentence, and Aemond felt his jaw tighten.

"I've never noticed you giving him any signals." He said slowly, through slightly clenched teeth.

Y/N stared at him with wide, red eyes. She was silent for a moment, then nodded and sighed. With the rest of her strength, she brought a slight smile to her face. She got up to collect their dishes.

"Thank you." She said, taking his plate. "You've calmed me down."

"Will you tell Klaus?" He asked, looking at her intensely. "Or do I have to do it?"

She stopped, her face hardened. She didn't look at him. She moved after a moment, but no answer came out of her mouth.

Aemond felt the blood pulsing through his veins. Her confession sobered him completely. He got up, walked around the counter, and came over to her, until they were inches apart. She turned to him, startled by his sudden movement.

"I asked you a question." He said coldly and low.

She looked at him with her big eyes. The words stuck in her mouth. She took a step towards him. Then the second. He wondered what she wanted to do, but didn't pull away. They were so close, that their faces were practically touching.

"Klaus knows." She said despairingly. "But they have signed contracts for next year. He would pay heavy fines for abandoning them, Albert made sure of that. Klaus is afraid, that if he wants to stop working with him, Albert will file an anonymous report about his illegal transactions. There are more of them than I thought. He never told me about it before."

There was bitterness in her words. She dropped her gaze to the floor. Aemond couldn't find the right words to say.

"How long has this been going on?" He asked softly, after a moment of silence. She didn't answer right away.

"...For two months."

They stood there speechless, each looking in a different direction, lost in their own thoughts. He felt Y/N rest her forehead against his chest. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed softly. He didn't move away.

Subconsciously, he placed a hand on her back. He stroked them with his fingertips. He placed his forehead against her hair and closed his eye. They were soft. He could smell the pleasant herbal scent of her shampoo in his nose.

"I'll take care of it."

#aemond x you #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #prince aemond #ewan mitchell #aemond the kinslayer

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queenshelby · 3 months

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Our Little Secret (Part 18)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity

Over the next week, and whilst you stayed with Cillian at his house, he found you a three-bedroom terrace right down the street from his property.

The place was perfect - spacious rooms, high ceilings, and a modern interior design and, whilst you felt uncomfortable knowing that Cillian had spent an absorbent amount of money on this property for you to live in, you knew that it was the best decision for your unborn child.

The thought of having a home of your own was comforting and the fact that the house was already vacant put your mind at ease, meaning that you could move in right away.

Thus, within less than a week, you moved all of your very few belongings to your very own home and Cillian worked tirelessly to assist you with your move, ensuring that your transition to the new house was seamless.

"You're making this way too easy for me," you commented lightly, watching him maneuver a particularly heavy box with ease while your best friend Emma followed suit, rolling your suitcases into the master bedroom.

"Holy shit, that's nice," she said appreciatively when she stumbled into your new bedroom, running her fingers along the plush leather headboard of the king-sized bed. "I would be more than happy to become your live-in nanny," she joked playfully, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

"That's tempting," you admitted sheepishly, biting your lower lip. "But I don't want to impose on any of you for much longer, I promise," you insisted earnestly, casting your gaze downward shyly.

"Don't be silly," Emma scolded affectionately, patting your shoulder reassuringly. "You are my best friend and always will be," she smiled warmly, her eyes glistening with love while Cillian brought in yet another box, overhearing the conversation between you, and Emma who could not help but to bring up the most recent confrontation you had with your mother when you attempted to collect some of your clothes from Frank's house.

"Think about it though Y/N, since your mother has officially disowned you now, you could use all the help you can get when Mr Hot Shot here is going on press tour next year. You want to start university in a few weeks. You will have exams and work-prac coming up and an au-pair or something similar might really be an option for you," Emma told you, seeing that you were due to give birth just before next years' award season.

"Her mother might still come around," Cillian interjected optimistically, placing the last box gently on the floor. "And even if she does not, I will be here as much as I can be to support Y/N and our daughter," Cillian told Emma comfortably and whilst Emma appreciated all the effort he was putting into this arrangement, she remained somewhat skeptical.

"I doubt that she will be coming around" you mumbled under your breath, unable to meet either Cillian's or Emma's eyes. You too were skeptical and knew that your mother hated you for what you did to the family. "Despite, she pretty much made it clear to me that she will never consider this baby to be her grandchild, so I really do not want her around my daughter even if she was to offer," you confessed despondently, feeling the sting of rejection surge through you once more.

"She's just angry and hurt Y/N," Cillian consoled you, reaching out to squeeze your arm reassuringly. "Give her some time, maybe she'll see reason," he encouraged tentatively, hoping to restore your faith in your mother's ability to change her mind.

"Whatever Cills," you sighed heavily, a single tear trickling down your cheek. "It won't happen," you told him dejectedly, your voice breaking slightly.

"Well, if it doesn't, then it would be her loss," Cillian reassured you firmly, reaching out to brush a damp strand of hair from your forehead tenderly. "You will be just fine without her," he added, his eyes brimming with love and empathy.

"I know will be..." you trailed off, biting your lower lip nervously. "But still, I wish she could see past her anger towards me long enough to realize that she is going miss out on the opportunity to welcome her own grandchild into the world," you confessed softly, your voice quivering slightly.

"Y/N, I suppose the fact that you are having a child with her husband's brother is a difficult notion for her to grasp though, don't you think?" Emma surmised, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "I mean, how could she possibly come to terms with the reality of your relationship?" she pondered aloud, her tone laced with caution.

"Point taken Em, but I always figured that a mother's love is unconditional," Cillian told your friend reluctantly, his gaze fixed on you intently. "But anyway, let's just focus on getting Y/N settled in here, shall we?" he suggested diplomatically before taring open some boxes, which is when you reminded him of his appointment with his lawyer and sister Siobhan.

"Mediation is at 3 o'clock, Cillian," you reminded him kindly, biting your lower lip apprehensively. "I suppose you should leave soon," you added, a hint of concern clouding your expression.

"Yeah, I know," Cillian sighed, his gaze fixated on the piles of boxes strewn across the floor. "I'll be sure to let you know how it goes afterwards and then I will be back to help you unpack," he promised, his voice laced with concern.

"I'm sure everything will be fine," you reassured him softly, reaching out to squeeze his hand affectionately, knowing that, following your testimony three days ago, Max was removed from Danielle's care, simply due to the physical aggression she had shown towards you.

Max was now staying with his grandmother in Cork until an agreement was made between Danielle and Cillian and, with Cillian being diplomatic, he had proposed a shared custody agreement which Danielle was yet to sign.

"She will sign the shared parenting agreement. She will have no choice," you reassured Cillian gently, your voice laced with confidence.

"I hope so, because none of this is fair on Max. He is only a child and does not understand what is going on," Cillian replied, his brow furrowed deeply as he reached for his jacket.

"I promise to call you later," he informed you, kissing your forehead tenderly as he walked out the door, leaving you and Emma alone.

As Cillian drove to the law firm where he had scheduled his mediation session, anxiety pulsed through his veins as he wondered whether his ex-wife would agree to his proposal.

Danielle had been unwilling to negotiate thus far, instead insisting that he should have full custody of Max, but he hoped that his patience and diplomacy would eventually pay off.

He pulled up to the parking lot outside the building where the mediation session was held and parked his car.

As he exited his vehicle, he paused briefly, his thoughts racing with uncertainty. Would today be the day that he finally regained custody of his son? Or would Danielle continue to obstruct his efforts, forcing him to resort to legal procedures? He inhaled deeply, steadying himself before he stepped toward the entrance of the building.

Inside, the lobby was bustling with people, all busy chatting and gesturing animatedly. He spotted Siobhan sitting quietly in a corner, nursing a cup of coffee.

She raised her eyebrows curiously and gave him a small smile. "Ready?" she asked him in a low voice, setting her half-empty mug aside carefully.

"As ready as I can be," Cillian muttered under his breath, offering her a weak smile. He could sense the tension radiating from her body as she rose from her seat gracefully, smoothing out her skirt with a practiced gesture. Siobhan held out her hand to lead him upstairs, where the mediation room awaited them.

Cillian reluctantly followed her, his stomach churning uneasily. His thoughts raced frantically, filled with images of Max and memories of the times they used to spend together, laughing and playing games. The idea of losing his beloved son weighed heavily upon his shoulders, and he clung desperately to the hope that today would mark a turning point in his life.

Once inside the mediation room, they sat across from Danielle, who scrutinized them coolly. Her gaze flicked between Cillian and Siobhan, her expression unreadable. The mediator readied herself, explaining the process in a measured voice.

"Today, we gather to resolve the dispute concerning the custody of Max," she began, her gaze sweeping over the trio. "Since you've both agreed to mediation, I trust that you're willing to reach a peaceful resolution. Let's begin with a brief overview of the situation," she continued, her voice ringing with authority.

Siobhan cleared her throat, her gaze flickering nervously between her brother and Danielle.

"I believe Cillian is asking for joint custody, correct?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly.

"Correct," Siobhan confirmed, her gaze sweeping over to her brother.

"Danielle, is that acceptable to you?" the mediator then posed her question, addressing Danielle directly.

Danielle hesitated, her gaze piercing like daggers as she studied Cillian. "I suppose so," she relented, her words dripping with resentment. "But I don't want this whore of a woman he cheated with on me anywhere near my son," she spat, glaring at Cillian who had cheated on her with you.

"Please ma'am, watch your language," the mediator cautioned sternly, observing the hostility simmering in the air. "Let's focus on finding a solution here without insulting one another," she added, her tone firm and unwavering before seeking some clarification on the circumstances surrounding Danielle's comment and reading the court transcript from three days ago, which ultimately led the judge to refer this matter to mediation.

"Preventing Y.N to be around Max will be impossible," Siobhan then reasoned calmly after the mediator got a grasp of the facts and surrounding circumstances.

"And may I ask why?" Danielle ought to question Siobhan angrily before the mediator reiterated the question.

"Miss Murphy, please explain to us why preventing Y/N from being around your client's son would be impossible. By what I understand, Y/N does not live with your client nor is he currently romantically involved with her," the mediator stated, her gaze resting on Siobhan expectantly.

"That is correct. However, Y/N is currently pregnant with my client's child," Siobhan answered cautiously, her gaze flickering between her brother and Danielle. "So, it would be quite difficult to completely shield Max from Y/N, who, I believe, will also co-parent her daughter with my client once she is born," she added, her voice trailing off uncertainly.

Danielle shot to her feet, her face contorting into a mask of outrage.

"Oh my god," she gasped, her voice cracking with disbelief. "This is just disgusting," she seethed, pointing an accusing finger at Cillian. "I can't believe you would stoop so low as to knock her up," she raged, her words slicing through the air like knives.

Cillian's gaze met hers, his expression grim and resolute. "Well, clearly, it wasn't intentional," he murmured hoarsely, his voice barely audible.

"God, I would hope so. How old is she again?" Danielle sneered spitefully, directing her question at Siobhan. She didn't bother looking at Cillian; her gaze remained cold and distant.

Siobhan hesitated, but Cillian did not. "She is old enough to act more mature than you do," he retorted sharply, his gaze unwavering as he handed Danielle the pen.

"Now, would you please sign the agreement so that we can finally move on from this. Max does not deserve to suffer from this unnecessary drama anymore," Cillian spoke firmly, passing the paper over to Danielle.

Their eyes locked for a moment, filled with silent accusation and pain.

"Fine," Danielle gritted through gritted teeth, signing the document hastily before thrusting it back at Cillian. "Just remember," she warned darkly, her gaze narrowing dangerously. "I will ensure that you regret ever crossing paths with this little slut," she snarled, her voice dripping with venom. "Max will know what you did, breaking his family apart like this," she finally said and Cillian gripped the table tightly, his knuckles whitening as he struggled to contain his rage.

"Please," he pleaded, his voice shaking with suppressed anger. "Can we just put our differences aside for the sake of Max?" he implored, glancing pleadingly at the mediator, who watched the unfolding drama warily.

"He is a child, for fuck sake. He does not need to be dragged into this," Cillian argued vehemently, his grip tightening on the table.

"I think you are just afraid that he will reject you once he learns exactly what kind of man you truly are," Danielle went on to say, her gaze fixing on Cillian accusingly.

Cillian's hands balled into fists, his knuckles white with rage. He opened his mouth to respond, but his words caught in his throat as he struggled to suppress his mounting anger.

"Enough," he finally managed, his voice strained and tight. "I won't allow you to drag our son into this mess," he growled, his gaze boring into her. "We both know that he deserves better," he added, his voice thick with emotion.

Danielle stared at him, her anger and resentment simmering beneath the surface. But despite her desire to retaliate, she knew that she had pushed things far enough. With a huff, she crossed her arms defiantly.

"I think we are done here," Siobhan interjected, her gaze darting between her brother and Danielle warily. "You two need to sort out your bitter feelings towards one another. This isn't healthy for Max," she reasoned reasonably, rising from her chair deliberately.

"Cillian will pick Max up from Cork tomorrow. He will stay with him for the first four days before spending the next three days with Danielle pursuant to the parenting agreement," Siobhan explained, her gaze darting between her brother and Danielle.

"Thanks, sis," Cillian murmured gratefully, squeezing her hand reassuringly, his eyes reflecting relief that the custody battle was finally over. "At least there is some peace," he added, a hint of bitterness lingering in his voice.

"Yes," Siobhan echoed, her gaze flickering between Cillian and Danielle warily. "Now that we have finally reached an agreement, let's try to make the best of this situation and focus on Max's wellbeing," she implored, her voice trembling slightly.

Cillian nodded, his gaze locking onto Danielle's icy stare before she stood up and walked out of the room without saying a word.

He released a shaky breath, his grip loosening on the table as he felt the weight of the tension lifting from his shoulders. Siobhan squeezed his hand sympathetically, her understanding gaze speaking volumes of the turmoil he had endured during the custody battle.

"Come on," she murmured kindly, leading him outside the building. "We can celebrate the end of this hellish nightmare with a drink," she added, her voice trembling slightly.

Cillian's heart swelled with gratitude. "Thank you, Siobhan," he whispered, grasping her hand tightly.

"I honestly don't know what I would have done without you," he admitted, his voice cracking slightly.

Siobhan shook her head, her gaze filled with compassion. "No big deal, brother dear," she replied gently, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. "After all, I am your sister," she added, smiling softly. "But seriously, Cillian," she began, her voice taking on a serious tone. "What happened between you and Y/N is really fucked up," she asserted, her gaze meeting his squarely. "How could you sleep with Frank's stepdaughter?" she questioned him pointedly, her words cutting through the silence like a knife.

"I honestly don't know Siobhan. I was in a bad place at the time. My marriage was at breaking point and the thrill of the taboo and forbidden excited me," Cillian explained before trying to further justify his actions. "I know I shouldn't have done it and I don't know what lead me to pursuing her. Curiosity? Lust? Boredom? All of those, probably. I wanted to feel alive again – and she certainly helped me achieve that. The problem now? The consequences. She's carrying my child and my marriage ended, so yes. I fucked up," Cillian confessed painfully, his voice shaking slightly. "But I cannot deny that, regardless of the circumstances, I do care for Y/N," he admitted, his gaze locking onto Siobhan's sympathetic eyes. "It might not be love, but there is definitely something there," he admitted, his voice wavering slightly.

Siobhan's gaze softened, her eyes reflecting understanding. "Look, Cillian," she sighed, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on his elbow.

"I understand that you're feeling overwhelmed right now, but you need to think about what you're doing. This girl is half your age, and she shouldn't be having that child," Siobhan urged, her voice filled with concern. "The entire family is falling apart because of this," she lamented, her eyes reflecting sadness.

"Siobhan, I honestly don't know what to tell you," Cillian responded, his grip tightening on the table. "All I know is that I want her to have this child. I want to raise my daughter with her," Cillian declared passionately, his voice echoing with determination. "And whatever obstacles stand in our way, I am sure we will overcome them," he vowed vehemently, his gaze fixated on Siobhan.

Siobhan shook her head, her eyes filled with worry. "Cillian, I don't mean to sound harsh, but you're making a huge mistake," she sighed, her voice trembling slightly. "This girl is young, naive, and vulnerable. What happens when she realizes she's made a terrible mistake?" Siobhan pressed, her voice laced with concern. "You can't deny that this whole situation is complicated beyond belief," she insisted, her gaze holding steady on Cillian.

"Look, Siobhan," Cillian murmured evenly, his voice betraying a hint of impatience. "I fully appreciate your concerns, but we slept together and we made this decision together, it's our choice," he asserted firmly, his gaze holding steady on Siobhan.

"Okay, well, being your sister, I will support your decision, even if I think it is wrong.

But know that you are walking on thin ice and I can warn you that things will get worse before they get better," Siobhan cautioned, her gaze darting between Cillian and the exit. "For now, let's go and grab a drink, shall we?" she suggested, her voice taking on a lighter tone.

Cillian nodded, his gaze shifting to the horizon thoughtfully. "Yeah, I could use a drink," he murmured, his voice filled with resignation and, with that, they made their way to a bar nearby.

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