#Unfortunately something about the prompt is very difficult to pull off
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oh my hell it’s been FIFTY DAYS since i posted on jorvikpov????? oh god. oh fuck. oh good fucking lord
#I am working on it but I have been working on the next one for like a solid month#Unfortunately something about the prompt is very difficult to pull off#And after life reasons forced me to take a short break I forgot how to write.#So. You could say I’m in a BIT of a writer’s block. Some days I write a sentence! On a good day I might write as many as five!#Wildwoods-sworn i see your tags i hear you i thank you for your lovely words <3 I also miss it & it is coming back. Preferably soon.#Next one is at ~350 words (usually I aim for at least 450 more if needed) but… I’m gonna have to replace like half of them#So really that doesn’t tell you much at ALL about how far away I am from posting.
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bubbles
a stressful day leads to steve planning to melt the blues away.



you called steve on your break and told him, whilst holding back tears, about how awful the day had been; your boss who had only ever been so nice had shouted at you; the old lady you assumed needed help gave you the rudest look; you forgot your lunch you had packed the night before and to top it off a migraine had settled itself behind your eyes. steve had told you to come home early but unfortunately sarah had just called in sick meaning you had a few more hours to go. as much it annoyed steve that he couldn’t comfort you straight away it meant he had time to get a plan in action.
steve raced to get ready and out the apartment, he threw himself into his car and spend off to the store. he picked up only the best for his girl, making sure to scan the wine section but ultimately went for what he knew would taste somewhat decent.
after speeding around the shops and a very distracting call from robin about what she should do on her first date with vicky, steve was finally able to put his twist on your worst day. he went to your shared wardrobe first and picked out some clean matching pyjamas for you both not bothered by the fact that they were indeed christmas pyjamas and lay them out on the bed. moving swiftly around the apartment, he began his prep on the food for you both. something easy and pleasing, pasta bolognaise. steve began chopping up all the vegetables he was going to use before combining them all in the pot on the stove, he checked the time and realising you would be coming through the door soon he made his way to the bathroom to begin preparing your bath.
steve knew how relaxing baths could be for you, so took his time reading the instructions on the back of the bottle of bubble bath- pouring in just enough to create a light gathering around the bathtub. he lit a few candles here and there to create a soft atmosphere and placed a towel on the towel rack to warm through. he went back to the kitchen were he poured you both a small glass of wine and turned the pot to simmer so the only thing to do was cook the pasta when you were ready.
the door closed, a bag hit the floor and you eventually made your way to steve who was sitting on the sofa eagerly awaiting your arrival. you were dragged next to him and pulled into a stifling hug which made it difficult to breathe for a moment. “everything is taken care of, all i want you to do is relax, okay?” steve assured you, you drew back and confused look etched on your face. steve shot up “come on, follow me”. he grabbed your hands and dragged you towards the bathroom, you were met with a warm orange light and a perfectly ran bath. you practically fell into steve, thankfulness radiating throughout your entire body. “you have no clue how happy this makes me, thank you so much stevie” you kissed his lips and steve left you to get comfortable.
knocking on the door to check it was okay to come in steve brought you a glass of wine and sat on the floor beside the bathtub. you both talked and talked, thoughts of the awful day you had melting away as each minute passed. “you’ll be getting cold if you don’t get out soon” steve prompted you and he was right you could feel the temperature of the bath had dropped and the bubbles had evaporated. “can you pass the towel please” you asked after a brief moment, steve smirked but stood up after a second to get the towel for you. he helped you out the bath, wrapping you tight in the warm towel and led you to the bedroom where the matching pyjamas lay waiting.
steve disappeared once he got into his pyjamas, leaving you to do your skincare as he began to cook the pasta. everything was coming together nicely.
you folded the towel away and went looking for steve only to find him standing over the stove, you moved quietly got on your tiptoes and hugged his waist with your head resting on his shoulder. “thank you for all of this” you whisper bringing a kiss to his temple, steve leaned into you and reiterated how you deserve much more than this.
dinner was served, wine was drank and now you were sitting on the sofa with steve’s head in your lap scratching softly at his scalp. he groaned at the sensation and turned onto his back looking up at you, “how would you rate your day now, angel?” he enquired, taking a moment to think and exaggerating the thought process you responded “hmm i don’t know about a nine and a half”. steve guffawed “so what could i do to push it to say a ten?”. “oh, that’s easy” you responded tapping your lips with your index finger. steve rolled his eyes but sat up, holding your face with both hands but taking a moment to admire the tiredness that had established as the evening went on. he kissed you with tender care, “see an easy ten now.” you muttered as steve pulled away.
#steve harrington x you#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington#fluff#blurb#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#fanfic
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I love your writing so much - can I request 🐰 Arron Hotchner for number 13? I hope you are having a good day :)
Aaron Hotchner x Reader- Special kind of honey
Prompt: This is stupid...and kind of fun
Summary: Hotch just got back from a tough case. You've got a nice little homecoming surprise for him. Unfortunately things don't go as planned.
CW: A little bit spicy but not explicit. Some mild swearing. Established relationship between reader and Hotch. Reader has low self esteem. I can't think of anything else that needs to be tagged but please let me know if it does.
A/N: I am so very sorry this took so long and also that it kind of stinks. I really struggled with this prompt but what the hey, I tried.
Aaron wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find, coming home from a case well past midnight but it certainly hadn’t been this. Standing in the doorway of your shared bedroom, gun holster still attached to his belt and briefcase still in hand, it was all he could do to keep his mouth from dropping open as he stared at the display in front of him.
“Babe? What do you think?”
You were spread out on the bed, waiting for Hotch like an all you could eat buffet. The lingerie ensemble you’d chosen was one of his personal favourites, a royal blue chemise and thong set made almost completely out of lace that showed off the very best of your assets while still leaving something to the imagination.
This alone would’ve been a treat, but it was the swirls of golden pigment that decorated your arms, legs and collarbones that caught his attention. You’d seemed to have paid special attention to your inner thighs and breasts, with those two areas sporting the highest concentrations of gold. Each time you moved, the light from the bedside lamp made your skin glitter with an almost magical lustre. You looked inhumanly beautiful, like a piece of living art.
“Babe?”
Hotch opened his mouth to answer you, only to close it again seconds after. The sound of his heart pounding in his ears was making it difficult to think, let alone speak, and the fact that all the blood in his brain was now rushing straight to his cock wasn’t helping matters.
“Sorry, this was a bad idea. Let me get cleaned up and then we can just forget about the whole thing”
Not waiting for a response, you started gathering up pillows and blankets off the bed in a frantic attempt to cover yourself up. It was only when Hotch’s line of sight to your bare skin was interrupted that his few remaining neurons sparked to life.
Cursing softly under his breath, he dropped his briefcase and rushed over, hoping to catch you before you could flee into the bathroom. His fingers missed your wrist by inches, closing around thin air as you scrambled across the bed and slid off on the other side.
“Honey, wait!”
The sound of Hotch’s voice made you pause long enough to allow him time to catch up with you. As soon as you were within reach, he anchored one hand on either side of your hips and pulled your body flush against his. You offered no resistance, coming willingly into Hotch’s familiar embrace even though you kept your gaze trained firmly on the floor.
For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, save for the sound of your laboured breaths and fluttering hearts. Hotch wondered if you were waiting for him to speak, to offer some kind of explanation for the reaction you’d misread as a rebuff.
Though you worked for the FBI, you weren’t a profiler. You wouldn’t have been looking for micro-expressions or subtle shifts in body language the way he did almost on instinct. At best you’d probably assumed he was too tired after his case for sex and just wanted to go to bed. At worst, you were now thinking he was a complete asshole who no longer found you attractive. Either way he’d dug him self a pretty deep hole and the only way to get out of it was to explain himself , but once again Aaron Hotchner was at a loss for words.
It wasn’t that he didn’t care that you were upset, he cared so much it almost hurt, but that didn’t change the fact that pulling you up against him like this had been a mistake. Because now, instead of coming up with an apology, his brain had become entirely too focused on the subtle brush of your hips against his to think about much else.
“Are you going to let me go, Aaron?” you asked, finally breaking the silence
“That depends,” he replied, his voice a little hoarse “Do you want me to? Or are you just asking because you think it’s what I want to hear?”
You sighed, the sound coming deep from the pit of your stomach, and blew a stray lock of hair out of your eyes. Hotch watched it flutter in the air for a moment, before reaching up with one hand to tuck it behind your ear. You leaned against his palm, some of the tension leaving your expression as you did.
“I missed you.”
A smile played about Aaron’s lips, and he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. That wasn’t the answer he was looking for, and he had no doubt you were intentionally avoiding giving him one, but he was too intoxicated by the scent of your shampoo to care. He’d only been gone for a week, and yet he’d spent every day yearning for you like some lovesick teenager. Now that he finally had you in his arms again, he wasn’t about to let that be ruined by a foolish misunderstanding.
“I missed you too, honey. Now, are you going to be honest with me or are you going to make me chase you around the house a little first?”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, as Aaron’s comment brought up memories of wonderful nights past. It would be a lot of fun to squirm free and play the brat for a few hours before finally giving in, but your ego was still too bruised for that. All too quickly the smile fell from your face, and you began to bite anxiously at your bottom lip, a sign that Hotch knew meant you were far more upset than you were letting on.
“Sweetheart? Talk to me, please”
“I just-”
Your voice cracked slightly, and Aaron’s heart almost broke along with it. There was hardly ever a good moment to be a horny idiot, but this one was probably worst than most. You had gone out on a limb for him here, done something spontaneous and outside your comfort zone so he’d have a memorable homecoming. You’d been vulnerable with him and even though he hadn’t intended to, he’d all but thrown it back in your face.
“I…do you think this is stupid?” you continued, pulling back so you could look down at the golden sheen that adorned your skin.
“Well no, considering I’m not entirely sure what this even really is yet.”
“It’s…it’s edible body powder,” you blurted, your cheeks starting to turn pink “Honey dust, to be more specific. Penelope gave it to me. I wanted to…mix things up a bit. Make them exciting for you. I should’ve known you’d think it was dumb and-and vapid and-”
Any further self depreciation vanished the instant Hotch’s tongue touched your skin. It was all you could do to keep your knees from buckling as he licked a stripe up the column of your throat. His mouth was blazingly hot, and if the noises he made were anything to go by, he approved much more than you initially realized. The sensible thing to do now was to let him keep going until he’d licked every inch of you clean and fucked you six ways to Sunday, but unfortunately your brain wasn’t about to let you off that easy.
“Aaron hold on- Aaron, baby- could you please just-”
You had to grab a handful of Hotch’s hair and tug before he finally extracted himself from your neck, grumbling softly under his breath as he did. The way the heady sweetness of the paint combined with the salty tang of your skin was potent. He’d barely gotten a taste, and yet Aaron knew he was ready to get down on his knees and beg if it meant he could have more.
“You’re not stupid”
“I never said-”
Aaron brought a finger up against your lips, gently but effectively silencing you so he could continue. Biting back your annoyance, you let him, your sense of curiosity overcoming your wounded pride.
“Look, you’re welcome to spend all night arguing with me about it if you want, but I also know there’s plenty of other things we’d both rather be doing so I’ll make sure I’m clear about this. You’re. Not. Stupid. You’re brilliant, and gorgeous, and I am so incredibly lucky to have someone like you to come back to every night. ”
You thought about protesting again, putting Hotch in his place and demanding to know why he’d been able to walk in, find you waiting for him as you were and not crack so much as a smile. He was smiling now though, looking like the cat who got the cream while his eyes roamed freely over the golden shimmer that decorated your cleavage and neck. His hands were also doing their fair share of roaming, trailing across the lace of your chemise and slowly working their way lower. It was only when you felt him cup your ass that you relented slightly, letting out a small moan and dropping your forehead against his shoulder.
“Besides,” Aaron’s voice was soft and low in your ear, his breath warm against your skin “You worked so hard to set this all up. The least you could do is let me thank you properly.”
“I like the sound of that,” you replied, offering Hotch a warm smile as you brought your hands up to rest against his chest “Only…”
“Damn it, sweetheart, you’re going to kill me. What is it now?”
You laughed quietly, not even bothering to hide how much you enjoyed working big, mean Aaron Hotchner into a tizzy. If only the other agents at work could see him now.
“You still haven’t told me what you really think.” you said, as one of your fingers started to twirl around the end of his tie “About the honey dust, I mean.”
Aaron groaned, and affectionately rolled his eyes. The fact that you were being stubborn really shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did.
“You’re still on that? I thought it would be obvious by now. I love it, though I’d love it if you were wearing a brown paper bag.”
At the sight of your furrowed brows and the hard line of your pursed lips, Aaron let out a sigh and gently grabbed hold of one of your wrists.
“Still don’t believe me? Look.”
With that, he pulled your hand down and brought it firmly to rest against his crotch. You gasped softly, feeling what was very clearly a massive hard on straining against the zipper.
“Holy shit,” you breathed, your eyes going so adorably wide Aaron had to fight the urge to smother you with kisses then and there. You’d been together for almost three years now, and somehow you were still oblivious to the effect you had on him.
“See? The reason I didn’t say anything before is because honestly, you had me too turned on to think. If I had been able to come up with anything besides “guh” and some drool, believe me I would’ve.”
For a moment you stood there, stunned and trying to process what Hotch had just said. Then, the laughter came. It bubbled up out of you like a freshly popped bottle of champagne and there just seemed to be no stopping it. Before you knew it, tears were streaming down your cheeks and you were clutching Aaron’s shoulders, trying to stay upright as your body shook with mirth.
He held you through it, his own laughter, rich and warm, soon joining your own. When the two of you were finally able to settle down, you found yourselves sitting on the floor, still holding each other for dear life. Your tears had carved a path through the honey dust on your cheeks, creating dull stripes in between the swaths of gold. Aaron was also covered in the stuff, with most of it on his lips and nose from when he’d had his mouth on you earlier. The sight set you off in a fit of giggles again.
“Oh god, baby, I’m so sorry,” you said, breathlessly between suppressed laughter “What a mess, and the bed’s probably a whole lot worse. This really was a stupid idea.”
You reached up and tried to wipe some of the gold powder off Aaron’s face, but only succeeded in dusting it down onto the lapels of his suit jacket. That didn’t seem to bother him too much though, and he caught your hand before you could pull it away. He pressed a kiss against your palm, deep and reverent, before licking up the tender skin on the inside of your wrist. You shivered with pleasure in response, and let out a soft moan.
“This is stupid,” Aaron agreed, moving to stand and gently tugging you to your feet as he did “And also kind of fun. Besides, we can always do laundry later and after the week I just had, frankly I could use a little fun.”
You gave Hotch a sympathetic smile, and allowed yourself to be lead towards the bed without any further resistance. Sure enough, you could see gold dust coating your navy sheets and comforter, most of it concentrated in an outline of where you’d been laying. Aaron shook his head fondly at the sight, before scooping you up in his arms and laying you out like you’d been when he’d walked in earlier.
As soon as your back hit the bed, you reached for Hotch, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a searing kiss. He lent into it eagerly, letting out a hum of appreciation as he felt your tongue brush against his lips. This was your first taste of the honey dust, and right away you understood the appeal. It was sweet. but not over powering, a nice little addition to Aaron’s already delectable kisses. With any luck, you’d be able to talk him into letting you cover him with it later on. The bottle said it could be put anywhere on the body, which had given you more than a few ideas you wanted to try out.
Despite the rough start, it seemed like the evening was heading towards a much more pleasant end. However, instead of climbing into bed and straddling you like you’d expected, Aaron suddenly broke off the kiss. Your eyes flew open and you propped yourself up on one elbow, watching has he turned away to walk back towards the bedroom door. His absence was already felt, your lips and body now caressed by the cold air instead.
“Aaron? Sweetheart?” you called out after him, trying to keep your voice calm “What are you doing?”
“Call it a do over,” he replied, flashing you a wide grin over his shoulder as he reached for the doorknob “An enthusiastic welcome deserves an enthusiastic reception.”
#easter event 2023#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#criminal minds fic#criminal minds imagines#if you can tell me what the title of this is a spin on I will love you forever and ever
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A lot of people can tell AI generated art Looks Off but lack the technical terms to be able to describe why in ways that doesn't swerve back to just vibes or the lack of a ~soul~, but worry not, papa snail is here to tell u exactly what feels kinda off about AI art when you look at it:
AI knows how to render like a beast but it's severely lacking in skills when it comes to image composition. Elements present in an AI piece rarely harmonize, they are not put there as part of an intentional scene, merely collaged in to fulfill whatever prompt was put into the machine. If you prompt an AI image generator with "Mushroom fairy in a forest" the machine will search through its database to diffuse something which checks off the correct labels while looking technically impressive; but it will not add any context or interiority to the scene. Basically; nothing visualized will have a reason for existing other than to fill a quota, which makes for an uninteresting and bad illustration.
This is something that isn't unique of AI, beginner artists operate in a similar manner, since composing a compelling narrative within a scene or a character design or abstract mural or what have you is its own skill-set that you have to learn. Where AI differs is this steep skill difference that clashes against itself. A technically lacking drawing of a sparkledog on DA is internally consistent, the composition is kinda ass the linework is kinda ass the colors and shading is all kinda ass, adding up to an earnest effort that still has charm because you can tell this was made by a 13 yr old doing their best with GIMP or MS Paint, you can tell that they probably like dogs and rainbows and theorize that they will get themselves some neopronouns in like 10 years. There was probably more the artist wanted to say with the piece but they lacked the skill to communicate it any deeper than "here is my rainbow dog oc that is half angel", give them 5 years and intent will start to materialize.
Enter an AI Generated sparkledog sourced from data scraped off the internet. The rendering is detailed and beautiful and there's a background and complex lighting but none of these things still say anything more than "here is my rainbow dog oc that is half angel", that is where the clash happens. Since the technical skill is so high, we look for depth, we look for intent, we look for artistic choices but there are none present. Even if a prompter wanted the AI generator to express something more specific, the amount of re-rolls needed to get even close to what whatever that is are plentiful and will still yield something very surface-level. You can probably make the dog look sad or angry, but it's going to be difficult (if not impossible) to make the dog look divorced or gay repressed or so distraught all of their brain synapses stopped working. That is what this vague sense that AI art lacks ~soul~ is, the machine simply isn't competent in visual communication deeper than a kiddy-pool, nor do I think it can be since it doesn't have its own interiority to begin with, which is what you need to pull from to develop this skill yourself as an artist. What you like, why you like it, what it means to you, learning how to put that on a canvas is integral for a compelling illustration.
Because I will simply say it; some human people artists are also very technically good, but can't communicate for shit. Sakimichan is my go-to example for this, her art is Very Rendered, she is good at Rendering and Anatomy but to me her art is still mid since she prioritizes conventional attractiveness above all else in her pin-ups. This is allowed, of course, and it gets her the patreon moneys, get that bag, but it is also kind of just slop. A lot of glossy anime people artists have a similar thing going on, which unfortunately makes them harder to distinguish from the output of AI Generators. Mind you, I can usually tell the difference, because there's still a lot of intent that goes into these pin-up pieces (choice of lighting, what to render/fade into the background, what kind of background would be best, color, outfit, which material textures to emphasize etc. etc. etc.) that AI still doesn't have since it's only concerned with aligning with the prompts, but it's way more subtle and lots of normies can't pick up on it, I can't pick up on it either all the time.
Similar things can be said about AI Writing, AI Music and AI Graphic design, it boils down to AI Generators not having any desire nor ability to add their own input, only replicate whatever elements are shoved into their database and align it best they can with whatever prompts gets typed in; which makes for sparkly products that remain terminally mid at best. Sometimes "Mid" is what the people want unfortunately which is why Pinterest is full of AI slop —but people interested in compelling art will gravitate towards it. The first step to making compelling art is meditating on what you want out of it to begin with, a shortcut is to make shameless fetish-art catered to you and you alone because it's gonna make you confront the things that you want to hide from people, and meditate on if maybe you should start shoving it in their faces instead. The sfw version would be other visual interests or fixations that foster this sense of shame or fear of judgement. AI generally veers conventional across axises, it always looks exactly like you'd expect it to because it's composed of such a big melting pot, so if you want to carve a space out for yourself where AI can't touch you just figure out the niche specific things your heart wants, and draw that, and get really good at drawing that.
AI Art is the fast fashion of illustration, basically, it's just cyberwaste instead of landfill-fodder and I do think AI technology utilizes slightly less slave labor (key word: think), not a fully consistent analogy but it is the gist. Which I have my own more-nuanced-than-average onions on fast fashion but that's for later, or never. if i feel like it.
anyway that's why AI art usually looks wonk. cus it has noob tier compositions and concepts with advanced technical execution. the most efficient way to distinguish urself from ai is to git gud at compositions and also be cringe and free. and people who turn to AI generators would have more luck visualizing their ideas if they commissioned an artist instead of editing prompt chains until the image kinda sorta looks like what they had in mind (if you squint), or used picrew or something, if ur gonna generate AI art at least dont fuckign poooost iiit maaaaaaaan MY PINTEREST FEEEEEEEED!!!! MY DA HOME PAGE!!!!!!! RUINED!!!!!!! BY SCARY GLOSSY ANIME PEOPLE!!!!!!!!
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You asked for billford prompts. Could i request something of them meeting while ford is on the run in the multiverse? Maybe them meeting while bill is possessing someone and ford doesnt realize at first that its him.
done!! i got a little carried away so its a bit bill heavy haha 😅 read on ao3 here!
So here Bill was, minding his own business, actually doing something good for once (he knows, lame, right?) and of course Stanford “dreamboat” Pines had to show up and ruin his fun the one time Bill didn’t want his Fordsy around.
See, how it started was Py and the guys told him they were ‘worried’ and ‘concerned’ and ‘wanted to know if he was okay’ and all that performative stuff. Apparently he hadn’t come out in weeks and that they thought his feelings towards his Fordsy had gotten a little ‘obsessive.’ He’d tried telling them the obvious that obsession was beneath him like all mortal emotions but they wouldn’t budge. An ‘intervention’ they called it.
So, he promised that he’d do something different, go outside and set his mind to something else.
But what to do? Bill’s restless at the best of times so it was a difficult choice. While considering his options he got (very rudely) snared by a band of rampant energy. He ripped the offending thing off of him, snarling, before being struck with an appealing idea.
See, when dimensions explode violently and into pretty fireworks, some of the energy holding them together gets spaghettified into long strands of unbridled force that ping across the multiverse like a snapped rubber band, destroying everything in their path. This is, of course, hilarious, except for when they hit him. Unfortunately, due to his current preference for the physical plane, and the staggering size of the Nightmare Realm, they tend to hit him a lot.
Thankfully, it's little more than time consuming to beat these strands into submission. In a process not too dissimilar to human weaving (although he’d never admit the similarities) he can wrangle the energy into a more useful and less (fun) volatile form.
All this to say, he was removing a minor nuisance in his own self interest, and if it happened to also make the multiverse safer and happier, well Bill would just have to deal with it. After all, he could make the multiverse plenty unsafe and unhappy on his own terms later.
The form he chooses is not one he’s been in in a while. It is long and serpentine, with hundreds of thousands of short, stubby legs, harkening back to the human notion of a millipede. Although he came first, of course. The only resemblance to his more snazzy form is a transparent triangular mask hovering over his front end.
Using longer arms not directly connected to his main body, he pulls out and sets up his loom.
Certain foolish amphibians and seven-eyed brats would not think he’d the patience for such a task. Bill thinks they should try shutting their mouths before they talk about something they don't understand.
Rolling his eye, Bill had set to work.
Now, back in the present, he finds himself staring down at the very human he’d been trying to take his mind off of. Great.
It's not particularly a surprise-- he’d known it would happen like he knows that in 15 years the human will almost be the death of him. Hard to surprise an all-knowing being, you know? --but it's a nuisance all the same.
Ford, for his part, doesn’t seem to have the good sense to notice his annoyance and run away pleading for his life. This does not surprise him.
What does, is the fact that Fordsy doesn’t seem to even realize it's him, either.
It's almost insulting. What kind of devotee doesn’t recognize when his God is standing right in front of him? It is, of course, a simple thing, that Bill can’t possibly fault him for (not that he won't try). He simply figures Fordsy didn't spend enough time with him on the upper planes to recognize him on feel alone. So be it, he’s not too heartbroken about losing that future. Especially since Ford’s awed expression promises that this route will be fun too.
“Hello there.” Bill says to him, making sure he doesn’t sound too much like himself. Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise too early!
And then Fordsy goes the most adorable shade of pink at being noticed by something so otherworldly, and Bill decides right then that maybe he doesn’t ever want Ford to learn the truth.
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Scout: Ok, I have had this little prompt in my Docs for a while and now decided to post it. m(。≧Д≦。)m
This takes place during the "Glorious Masquerade"event. This can be read as a one shot or even a full length work. Each part connects and can be its own beginning. I hope you all enjoy these.
First up is Epel.
Word count: Around 1800 words.
Can I have this dance?
The Noble Bell Lecture Hall was the perfect place to hold a Masquerade. The school was elegant, dignified, decorous; the very place itself looked and felt sacred. All of those things and the antiquity of the school itself pulled the whole event together. It was something out of a fantasy book back at home; a dream. Now, Renmu was living that fantasy as a reality. If it wasn't for the series of unfortunate events that took place just the night before, Renmu would almost wish they could come back again next year.
With those things in mind, Renmu had never been to social gatherings before. What was he supposed to do? Was there a book on things like this? A rule book? A manual or a "How To” guide? Anything? He knew just standing there would make him look silly but then again, he would just look silly if he tried to look like he was doing something. Grim was no help since he was long gone. He went with Ruggie to the buffet table to eat. So much for sticking together. There were so many faces he didn’t recognize that it was driving him crazy. Though it didn't seem like anyone was judging him or staring at him. In fact, many others weren’t even concerned about what to do or what was right and or wrong. So many boys ranging from NRC, RSA, and NBC were mixing in the lecture hall, talking, laughing, and dancing with a familiar face or an acquainted one. They were all putting their differences behind them and associating as equals hand in hand.
Renmu was going to just find somewhere to sit and wait the rest of the night out but someone tapped him on the shoulder. Renmu spun around to realize it was Epel.
“Can I…have this Dance, Renmu?” Epel asked.
Renmu was surprised that Epel was asking him to dance with him, not that there was anything wrong with Epel. He gave Renmu something to talk about since their history of farming was shared. Also, he was a fellow freshman and a friend. Epel was still expecting an answer from Renmu, his hand still being offered for Renmu to take. Renmu had’t realized that he hadn’t answered and was keeping him waiting. Renmu nodded softly, taking the smaller boy's hand. Epel led them to the dance floor, never letting go of the Prefect's hand. It was kind of embarrassing for Renmu. He was kinda glad that his mask concealed his face a bit. Once Epel stopped, he took the lead and began their dance.
It was kinda awkward since their heights made it a bit difficult. Epel was noticeably shorter than the Ramshackle Prefect. They were doing a Foxtrot. In this world, it was called a Houndstep. It was quite simple since there were less spins than a waltz would. The only thing was that Epel had a hard time placing his hands correctly on Renmu’s back and keeping up with his steps. The silence was a bit nerve wracking for Renmu. He looked around them. Everyone was off in their own little worlds to care that Epel was leading their dance and he was the smaller one here. In fact, some did stop to stare but only because they were the talk of the Masquerade right now.
“I-I thought you were going to say no…” Epel finally spoke softly. “You…didn't seem interested.”
Renmu shook his head. “I wasn’t expecting to be asked to dance. Especially from you, Epel.”
“Oh…why is that?” Epel asked dejectedly.
Renmu now registered what he just said and how Epel perceived it. “Iie, Iie, Iie, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, you’re not the one to like dancing, especially not in a setting like this.” Renmu explained. “I know Vil-Senpai makes you do things like this, even when you don’t want to.”
“O-Oh, yeah well, Vil said if I was to ask all gentleman-like, then I could have a better chance at getting a dance.” Epel replied.
“Ah, so you asked Vil-Senpai how to me if I wanted to dance?” Renmu asked smugly.
Epel flushed red as the fairest queen's lips. “T-That's not what I meant!” Epel shouted. “Vil drilled basic ballroom manners n’ etiquette into mah noggin’ before I left. I was needin’ some’n to show fer it.”
Renmu laughed. He loved it when Epel reverted back to his country boy self. Sometimes he was hard to follow but he loved to hear it nonetheless.
Epel took a step forward and ended up stepping right on the Prefect’s foot, causing him to stumble into him. Renmu caught him and held him up. Now Epel was really embarrassed. Epel sighed. “Don’t tell Vil about that embarrassing fall…”
Renmu couldn’t help but laugh at his request. “I won’t tell, Epel.”
Epel gave Renmu a soft smile before speaking again. “So,” Epel started as he pulled away from Renmu. “Did you wanna lead now?”
“Oh, you want me to lead?” Renmu asked. “I thought you would prefer to lead our dance since you asked.”
Epel shook his head. “I-I don’t mind if it's you after all. Besides, I think it would be best if I just asked you to take the lead…”
Renmu waited for a moment before offering his hand to Epel which he gladly took. Renmu placed his other hand at the center of the Pomefiore students' back and Eepl put his other hand on the Prefect’s shoulder. Renmu picked up where they left off just moments ago. Epel would have been opposed if anyone was to lead a dance with him. He wanted to be the one in control, the manly one. But when it came to Renmu, he stopped caring for some reason. Maybe it was because it was Renmu. Renmu never judged him for wanting to be manly at his size. He knew that the very idea of being small bothered Epel so Renmu always supported him when he needed it or assured him that he was manly just the way he was. Then again, it made Epel sometimes want to prove his manliness even more when it was Renmu.
“Renmu, did Riddle tell ya about how I held mah own out there on mah broom?” Epel asked excitedly.
Renmu nodded. “I did. I heard about all your heroic efforts. I'm happy to have classmates like you guys.”
Epel wasn’t expecting such a response. He was just trying to gloat a little bit to the Prefect. Epel didn’t know what else to say now.
Renmu smiled. “Sono Toori. I don't know what I would do without you guys sometimes.”
“W-Well you can rely on me to help you out, Renmu. I’m strong and ther ain’t nothin’ that can get n’ mah way!”
Renmu chuckled deep in his chest. “Arigato, Epel.”
Their conversation soon trailed off as their dance continued. This time with Renmu taking the lead, their steps were in sync and the rotations smooth. Their capelets swayed with each step and rotation they made. Renmu dipped Epel low and gracefully. Epel sputtered like a fish at Renmu as he held the smaller boy from fully falling to the floor. Renmu just smiled brightly at him and pulled him back up into a spin. Epel laughed as Renmu kept them twirling around. They weren’t even dancing correctly anymore.
To Epel, the way Renmu looked, amongst the other twirling pairs in the room, illuminated by the warm glow of the chandeliers, made him look so ethereal. He looked manly even. Like Malleus did in his attire. He looked like a prince. He looked as though he fit the atmosphere, like he was made for it all.
“Ah, ya make me feel like ya darlin’ when ya do that.” Epel mumbled, his cheeks as red as his apple blossom mask.
“Ah, Gomenasai.” Renmu muttered.
Epel looked adorable with his mask on. The apple blossoms around his eyes were pretty and complemented his lavender hair. It was fun that they all got to dress up for the occasion. Everyone's outfit represented them in more ways than one. No one looked the same and yet they all fit the part so nicely. Renmu really hoped that they could have more opportunities like this in the future. Yeah there were times where they were fighting for their lives before they could even enjoy the fun things but even the bad things made memories. Renmu wanted to look back one day and say “Ne, Ne, remember when we got tricked into going to a ball at Noble Bell College and almost got killed by Rollo and Firelotus'?’ Then we got to dance the night away afterwards because y'know, we saved the day?” Those very things made memories and brought them together and Renmu loved every bit of it. Or maybe Renmu was starting to become twisted like the rest of them.
“Hey Renmu, look!” Epel suddenly shouted.
Renmu whipped his head around in the direction Epel was looking in. At first Renmu was confused on what Epel was looking at until he saw Rook. Rook was dancing with Neige, but that wasn’t the problem. Rook was balling his eyes out as he danced with the Royal Sword student. Neige was all too happy to be dancing with Rook but it seemed that Rook wasn’t ready for that step in their relationship.
Neige reached up and wiped away his tears which made him cry even more. Epen and Renmu shook their hands in disappointment.
“Poor Rook-Senpai…” Renmu chuckled.
“Vil would be appalled to see Rook shed a tear for his biggest rival.” Epel muttered.
“Let’s just hope he doesn't find out.” Replied Renmu.
Epel shuddered. “We wouldn't hear the end of it if he did.”
The song started to come to an end. They finished the last couple of box steps and unhooked their arms. Everyone took a step back and bowed at their partners. The lecture hall, once filled with the lively music from the orchestra, erupted in a round of applause.
“Uh, thanks for dancing with me, Renmu,” Epel said over the loud applause. “That was actually pretty fun for a change.”
“Yes, I had fun too.” Renmu said with a smile. “I’m glad I got to have this dance with you. My first dance at that.”
Epel couldn’t help but smile. “Well, ima go get some food. See ya later!”
Renmu watched the smaller first year run off through the crowd, his cape billowing behind him. With the next song starting soon. Renmu needed to get off the floor and out of the way. He just now needed to find something else to do.
“Renmu!”
Renmu turned around to find Deuce running up to him. Deuce weaved around the other students, muttering apologies as he ran around them. Once he got face to face with the Ramshackle Prefect he took a deep breath and yelled…
The next part can be found here. Deuce
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#twst wonderland#thescout'scodex#disney twist#twisted wonderland x oc#twist disney#twst epel#twst deuce#epel felmier#deuce spade#twst rook#rook hunt#neige leblanche#twst neige#twst rollo#rollo flamme#glorious masquerade#twst glorious masquerade#noble bell college#royal sword academy#night raven college#twst ruggie#ruggie bucchi
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The roommate
<---Previous
Part XI
Bakugo's friends are great. Izuku remembers them from the last time he saw them in Todoroki's apartment. And fortunately, they don't look mad at him at all.
It seems like they want to be Izuku's friends too, which is honestly a relief. Those hate tweets about him haven't stopped haunting him for the last few hours, even though he's been trying to push them away.
Ashido pulls him into a hug almost immediately, she's grinning the whole time as she purposely ignores Bakugo's growls.
"I'm so happy you'll be spending time with us tonight. Blasty is so selfish and doesn't want to share you with us!"
"That's because he's my boyfriend, not yours, Pinky!"
"But he can be our friend!"
"I'd love that," Izuku says sincerely and suddenly Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari are hugging him while Ashido sticks her tongue out at a very grumpy Bakugo.
However, Izuku can tell Bakugo is not actually mad at any of them.
They're trying to embarrass Bakugo in front of him the whole night by telling him a couple of silly stories; they actually help Izuku relax a lot and make him feel better.
Until he notices Kaminari grimacing at something on his phone and of course Izuku knows it can be anything and he tries to let it go, but the guy with yellow hair suddenly looks at him with concern.
"Maybe you should stay away from Twitter for a while, Midoriya."
Izuku doesn't ask because he already knows, he just nods and tries not to think about all those hate tweets he read a couple of hours ago.
But it's really difficult. He feels his eyes getting wet, but he tries to fight the tears with a fake smile.
Unfortunately, Bakugo notices.
"What is it, Izuku?" For the first time, he doesn't want Bakugo to be soft or to touch his cheek gently, like he's afraid to break him, because Izuku feels completely vulnerable at the moment.
"He already read those tweets," Ashido guesses correctly, prompting him to start tearing up. Sero hits Kaminari on the back of his head and scolds him for bringing Twitter up in the first place.
"It's not his fault," Izuku sobs, letting Bakugo pull him into his arms. The pro hero is just using one arm to hold him because he's using his other hand to type on his phone, aggressively fighting some of the tweets. "Your PR is not going to like it. At least don't answer to them with your main account."
"Too late, Izuku," he says, smirking mischievously. "Besides, half and half has been doing the same. But he doesn't know how to insult people properly; I might have to teach him a thing or two..."
"Please don't, Kacchan..."
"Speaking of Todoroki, I think you should call him, Blasty," Ashido says suddenly. "Tell him to meet us here. I have an idea."
***
Todoroki comes right after his shift, he hasn't even taken his hero suit off, which prompts Izuku to immediately feel bad about it.
"Shoto... You should be resting, this is not that impor–"
Todoroki cuts him off with a soft kiss on the lips before sitting at his right side; the people in the restaurant are doing their best to pretend they don't care about all the pro heroes in there.
Izuku doesn't want to think about them typing on their phones at the moment.
Bakugo leans closer and presses a kiss on Izuku's temple before rubbing his back gently. Ashido and Kirishima try to explain the situation to Todoroki, although it seems like the pro hero already knows part of what's going on.
"I don't like when they talk about Izuku like that," he says then, taking one of the green haired man's hands in his.
"Listen, I know you've been on separate dates with the green cinnamon roll here," Ashido begins, smiling at the three of them. "But I think you should start dating Midoriya at the same time. Show everyone that you're more than okay with this."
The thing is... Izuku is not exactly sure they are, but when he looks at Bakugo, he is smirking right back at him.
"That's not a bad idea, Pinky."
"But are you really okay with this?" Izuku asks because he has to, he needs to make sure this is not going to make them feel bad.
"We're okay with whatever makes you feel better," Todoroki assures him and even though the response worries him, Izuku can tell they are determined.
When they're outside the restaurant, Todoroki gives him a hug and another kiss on the lips.
"I have to go back to the apartment to sleep, but I'll see you two tomorrow so we can hang out with my friends."
After he walks away, Bakugo pulls Izuku back into his arms again.
They go back to Bakugo's place and they watch a superhero movie while cuddling on the couch.
"Are you sure about this, Kacchan?"
"Of course, nerd. Stop worrying about it and let me watch the movie," Bakugo says, pressing a couple of kisses against Izuku's face, until he relaxes into his arms.
However, he still worries, he can't help it; he hasn't asked any of them how is this going to change the fact that he has to choose one of them. What's the point of making it look like they want to date him at the same time when he's going to stay with one of them eventually?
This is a mess, but Izuku doesn't know how to fix it.
***
Next--->
Patreon
#bnha#mha#my hero academia#bkdk#bakudeku#bakugou katsuki#izuku midoriya#shoto todoroki#tddk#tododeku
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Oh yeah I might as well post this here for the 2 people who follow me and aren't already in discords with me,
I'm doing this:
In an attempt to improve my art, I started out just doing it for the sake of drawing something almost every day but now I think I'm gonna save these for whenever I feel I've made an improvement. Each day I am doing a different OC and I'm trying to lean towards having each character in an outfit I wouldn't normally draw them in
#1 was done with Orpheus Valor from Paragons
He was pretty fun to draw because I don't do masc characters very often. Also doing him for the underwear post was good because my GM, Gracie, and I had previously joked about him having scars where top surgery scars would be and just fully not being trans (there are other trans characters in Paragons I feel like we get to do a little bit of queerbaiting) so he was mauled by a bear.
#2 was done with Rabbit Leporidae from Thyrasylo.
Rabbit is normally dressed in either a suit or a frilly dress despite the fact that her name stems from the fact that her original design was wearing a bunny suit. Her shirt is a gag stolen from Thrilling Intent, I think it's funny for the most powerful spellcaster in my world to be wearing a spelling bee shirt. This was also cool because I got to draw her tattoos. Neither of her previous tokens really showed them off much so I thought I could use this opportunity to draw them. They don't have any real significance as of right now but I might ascribe some to them later.
#3 is with Ivy Blackleaf from Thyrasylo
Ivy is very fun to draw, this prompt made me finally design a logo for her Mom's cafe. I think I made it a little too close to the Olive Garden logo. Otherwise this was a fairly straightforward one, I did get to practice expression a little bit.
#4 with Roxanne De'Rulo from Crescent King
Messy hair Roxie is really fun to draw. I forced myself to make this a full body to try and practice feet, I don't think they look all that great. Her hand is a little bit fucked up but I am glad that I drew it at all, practice is important. Otherwise the only thing of note with this one is that I lost the original TRIPWIRE band logo and Redbubble doesnt let you redownload your uploaded designs which kinda blows.
#5 with Jayden Valekrave from Paranoia and Evi Halloran from Macrocosmos
The first one with a backdrop. This one was also voted on by a whole 37 people who took time out of their day to vote on my silly little Google form. Evi is in the background because she was the runner up and I probably wouldn't draw her anywhere else. I also think I didn't do justice to all the people who voted for Jayden. I super didn't have a reference pulled up and I am not skilled enough to draw from my imagination yet. Jayden's halberd, Dawnbreaker, having sunglasses on is the best part of this image. She is so silly. I also started drawing the eyes without having lineart on them here. Idk how I like it, we'll have to see.
#6 with Vernidaius Yxerei from Decent Into Avernus
Compression kinda fucked this one up a bit, but the name of the game with this one was experimenting with brushes. I kinda tried to get some of the texture that I really love out of Jackson FrameDodge of The3rdWheel's work. Unfortunately I dont really know how to shade properly so it's kinda all over the place, and harder to see on the skin, oops. This one had a pose reference initially but the legs ended up being too difficult for me to do so I just sorta covered one of them. I also super forgot to draw Vermi's scales here. The line-less eyes are still something I'm on the fence about. I think this background is a good bit better than the previous one, the only part of the previous one that I really ended up liking is the clouds.
And that's everything I've done so far, tune in soon for the next one if you care.
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Could you do the “I was just really really sad” prompt? (I am an Orin was a very depressed adolescent truther)
(Hey, so these prompts are meant to be from the sender's character to me/Orin so I answered it as such, but I did also try to touch on Orin and his big, bad, feelings.)
"No shit, you're sad. You're dead," Orin replied with a grimace, dark brows pushed close together with irritation. The one thing he'd learned about resting in peace throughout this whole ordeal was that there was in in fact very little resting and scarcely any peace. At least, not in his particular corner of the void, which he suspected was not one of the nicer eternities, which was...fair enough. In the darkness other spirits would wallow and loudly lament their fates, crying for pity into the great expanse of nothing. It made Orin want to strangle them, break their damn necks, but what good would that do? They were all already dead, and his desire to do harm had waned the longer he was stuck in this place. So he'd keep his distance until they disappeared back into the inky abyss, leaving him to his brooding. But this weird gray...thing, this thing with hazy, black, spots where Orin figured its eyes should have been had had the nerve to actually speak to him! Or at him...whatever the case it didn't really matter. His whole body had bristled as it had approached, agitated more so than frightened as it invaded his patch of dark. Whatever this vaguely human shaped being was, it was hardly the worst iteration of a spirit he'd come across. He supposed he was lucky. He still looked something like himself, or he figured he did since mirrors didn't seem to cross over into this realm. When he'd reached up to touch his face it was still there, and everything seemed to be in the right place, though the deathly pallor he had seen on his hands had been enough to make him queasy. Normally, he had quite the strong stomach, but it was different when you knew it was you whose skin looked so devoid of life. Plus, not long after he'd arrived to this emptiness, rings of dried blood had appeared around certain joints and around his neck, though he'd done his best not to contemplate too deeply their meaning. It was just too creepy.
Unfortunately, his response must not have been enough because the other spirit was still just standing there. Staring at him. Well, he thought it was staring at him. The lack of eyes was making things pretty difficult. "Look, I don't know what you want from me. You want comfort or something? Sorry, uh...you, but comfort was never something I was good at, and I don't think I'm gonna start now." Still it stood there. Staring even as he took a step back, wanting to put a little more distance between them, though he didn't take his eyes off it. "Jeez, you're persistent. So you said you...'was' sad? Like, past tense? You trying to tell me why you died or something? Got so sad you died?" Orin crudely gestured like he was pulling a noose tight, even going so far as to stick out his tongue. But not even that got any real response. "I mean, I guess I get it, but who isn't sad? Everyone's sad, kid. You're just born that way, and your parents don't help. You know, that's just being human. You're sad, and then you get older, and you get angry. You realize all the things that made you sad, well...you're big enough and mad enough to fight 'em, so you do." He clenched his hands into fists, raising them up as if about to throw a punch. "So it goes...sad enough to want to die, mad enough to want to hurt, angry enough that you hurt everyone around you..." Orin was surprised by how much he kept talking, but...well, he couldn't tell how long it had been since he talked to someone. Or something? Time passed so strangely here, as far as he knew he could have been dead for years. What way was there to mark the passage of time. Maybe that's the reason he couldn't make himself stop. "And after you're angry...after you're angry you...I don't really know. Guess I never got to the part where you stop being angry...or when you stop being sad. Figures I'd be sad for eternity. It fucking figures." Orin sighed, rubbing the back of his back of his neck, feeling the dried blood beneath his fingertips. "Sorry...I don't got any sorta satisfying story to tell. Most people's lives aren't satisfying...I just had sorta hoped after everything mine would be. That success and distance would be enough to make me happy, but I guess I didn't get far enough."
#Oh buddy#This blog is entirely fueled by Orin being an incredibly unhappy child#It's DEAD ORIN HOURS#Orin please do not dump your weird emotional trauma on strangers#(Now Spit) Asks#(At the Office) IC
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Finally some good fucking food character analysis, OP.
We really aren't talking enough about how much of a performative chaser Emmrich actually is, because it's so sub-surface and tends to get drowned out by other parts of his more overt behaviour i.e. the gentleman-aspect, his fish-out-of-Nevarra status, his overall general positive attitude and passion for learning etc., so I absolutely agree.
Also, you can practically see the switch he makes from realizing he's being chased to deciding 'oh alright, I see you noticing me, - I'll take it from here' 😏 During the skull-scene is where you get to see him go into his well-practiced (but also very performative) Rizz Mode™ persona, as I like to call it. There's a reason people find it difficult to see how he can be both an awkward nerd AND a Rizzler. It's because he can't. He's very good at flirting, but it's also not his true self. It's dance, the steps of which he's come to learn flawlessly though experience, but it's also a shield. (*side-eyes Dorian* what is it with you fruity necromancers and your deep-seated fear of intimacy?)
I also realize now, that look of shock IF you tell him he's your first "anything, romantically"... also has that tell, like he's GENUINELY astounded that someone could choose him for something so important, something more monumental. 'Really? No one before me? You could have had anyone, what's so special about me?' He's realizing he isn't just another one of Rook's flings, they waited all this time for someone like HIM, and they consider what the two of them have as ROMANTIC. And we see that tell OP mentioned, he looks down/pikachu combo all 'Oh... oh damn, I'm important to them...' And then his face softens, he looks back up and says he's glad to be chosen.
But again he's underselling it, he's not simply "glad", he's so thoroughly honoured and touched.
And he assures them, without prompting btw, that they'll take it slow. Now... Rook didn't ask for that, technically. Honestly, I'm realizing now this could just as well be Emmrich trying to regain a sense of control, but pulling on the reins to slow things down, because 'woah woah, you're actually WAY more serious about this than I was ready for, let's take it easy...' but since he's a gentleman, he slyly reframes it, implying it's for Rook's benefit. In respecting Rook's boundaries, he's really covertly trying to protect his own emotional barriers.
(also, as I've said before in my own meta: my personal read on Harding's line about them moving too fast is that she's referring to them, moving too fast FOR EMMRICH, which is to say EMOTIONALLY - and she was right on money, too, but obviously she words it clumsily enough that it's not obvious to the player, or even Emmrich at first)
Unfortunately, he's already got it bad and there's no turning back without some good ol' fashioned self-sabotage. Tell yourself you did the right and noble thing to try and mask how terrified you are.
Emmrich is so in over his head even before that argument. He's used to being afraid of dying,
but along comes Rook,
and he has to face that he's been afraid of living this entire time too, and it's too much.
It's knowledge he wasn't ready for. But it's smacked him in the face, and they might die tomorrow and welp, time to let fear write my break-up speech.
What I think is beautiful is, the argument itself ends in a way where, if he WANTED, he could have chosen to see it as a break-up, but in the midst of battle, after having only cooled off for maybe half a day, like OP mentions, HE'S the one to initiate an attempt at reconciliation. He even, tentatively, refers to Rook as 'darling', he's making no attempts to distance himself. As far as he's concerned, they're still together, they still care about each other, whatever they have is salvageable and, more importantly, he wants it to be.
Sadly, they don't get the chance to apologize to one another, because Solas Shenanigans happen... Rook is gone... For WEEKS. And Emmrich is left to stew in every single emotion he's ever felt for them. (we were robbed, this should have been included somewhere, in all romances)
It's the age-old saying: you don't know WHAT you have 'till you lose it.
The vacuum in his life without Rook hits him full force. 'Actually, wait, them not being here is way worse than them being too close. They could never be too close, I need them here with me right now, what was I thinking, I'm such a fool, as always...'
When they finally return, he's NOT leaving anything ambiguous, he is GOING to let them take the lead, he is GOING to lay with them until morning and unapologetically act like a besotted couple of newly-weds and fetch them breakfast, ...
he is GOING to admit to them, and to himself, how he feels.
That he loves them. And they're a team, facing the world not merely side-by-side, but together. For the long run. They're going to plan for a future that no longer scares him like it used to.
((Personally, my Rook never banged him until that coffin scene, and I think it's extra impactful that their first time is Rook leading him, but I do appreciate that the writing makes their previous level of intimacy vague enough that several Rook-interpretations make an equal amount of sense))
More thoughts and theories about our favorite Necromancer
My darlings, I have too many thoughts and my obsession is running wild. (How I missed you, hyperfocus). If you have read my last meta post about our Emmrich, here it is: First Meta Post
That is not a required read however. I am still wondering why anyone is reading my word vomit U_U
Anyway, I love reading other peoples theories, so please, send me yours. <3 And a lot of thanks and love for all you darlings who make this fandom such a beautiful and nice place. Especially to @jaal-ama-daravv - who makes the most beautiful videos, and writes such wonderful character studies.
Warning, from here on there will be spoilers as well as mentions of sex. If you don't want to read about any of that, do not read the rest.
Also pictures and way too many words. This is a ten page word document, save yourself while you can. I tend to go off on a tangent once I start writing. I am also well aware that not everyone will agree. This is just my personal read on Emmrich.
Now, after my first essay I have some more thoughts on Emmrich and Rook and specifically their intimate relationship.
Emmrich is such an interesting and baffling contradiction. On the one hand he is confident, self-assured, all manners and poise. He is smart, and he knows it. He has special gifts, and he knows it. He is confident without being proud. He likes to teach others without being arrogant. He still likes to learn about new things and is, as far as I’ve seen, never judgmental about different beliefs and ways of life. (Unless someone treats him with disdain or bully him)
He is a man who is confident speaking of his thoughts and feelings and fears. How he just casually drops his thanatophobia is just astonishing. He is honest and open-minded in the best ways.
And then there is the other side of him. The wet kitten side of him. As open and honest as he is about his emotions, when we get to the meat of it, to the scary bit, the real feely bit, he locks up completely. As long as it is surface level (or he can pretend its surface level), everything is up for discussion. But once we reach deeper and touch *love* he gets so scared and refuses to admit and commit to his feelings. And as much *death* scares him, love scares him more.
So how does that influence his intimate relationship with Rook?
According to the banter with Lace “everyone knows about it”. He was rather surprised by that.
That tells us two things:
They were trying to be sneaky or at least keep their private business private.
They failed, massively.
Add to that Laces comment about them moving rather fast (when, where? I would have loved to have seen that. Comments like that just give me the feeling that we should have had some more cutscenes after the dinner date, to show us those two besotted fools).
But back to them moving rather fast. I would guess that they both did a lot of gazing lovingly at each other, blushing, spacing out while watching their darling, stollen kisses in the hallway when they thought no one was watching, stuff like that. Just being to besotted fools.
But moving fast usually includes sex. Lots of needy, sweaty sex. The inability to keep their hands of each other.
That moves us to the question of the day – did they have sex before their coffin time?
Let’s look at what we know about Emmrich. Emmrich is no virgin. That man has experience. He had past lovers. But what he tells us at that sweet diner date – “nothing serious for years.” We know not much else besides his crush on a boy in his youth and his fling with the Orlesian Art Lady. He is not someone to kiss and tell and that is appreciated. That man has class, and we love him for it.
So - nothing SERIOUS for years. If he hadn’t had ANY relationships in the past years, he would have said so. But what he says is that he did, in fact, have UNSERIOUS relationships in the last few years.
I would read that to be somewhere along the “fwb, lovers, affairs, paramours, companions, a fling, a little romance” line. Something not purely, but mainly physically driven. Someone you like and respect, you can go out and have a good time with, have lots of amazing sex with (b/c he is a living being and has his needs). Spending time with people he liked, was sexually attracted too, but nothing as serious as love. A physical relationship. A little thrill, some fluttering, but never that deep.
Not to say that those situationships would not have been romantic. He is (buried under all that resignation) a deeply romantic man. I am pretty sure he went on nice romantic dates with his previous paramours too. That this is something he just enjoys too much. Treating a companion with some quality time, not just in, but also out of the bedroom.
But after he’d given up on his dreams, he did not have any notion of those flings being more than a “enjoy the moment”. There was never the expectation of deeper feelings, beyond friendship, attraction and/or respect. All those romantic gestures were nothing more than a little bit of “play pretend”. To give himself the illusion of true romance, just for a little time.
Take the fact that you can go a “everything you do is creepy but I still flirt with you and I want you to throw me over that tombstone” and his comment on “the attraction of the forbidden”? This is not a relationship born of mutual respect and deeper feelings but out of purely physical attraction. And he is OK with that.
I want to repeat – Emmrich is very much okay with a casual, sexual affair. He does not require love to have a relationship with someone.
And then think about that Johanna calls Rook specifically his “paramour”. Which is a lover, especially an illicit one. This word was very specifically chosen by Johanna. For various reasons, I would think.
For one, I do believe that it is a dig at his dreams of the eternal flame. It’s a dig at him, that Rook is not his love, but his paramour. A lover for a time. To be parted from soon enough. B/c that silly dream of his, as if it ever would become reality.
Second, I think it is a comment on the way his relationships often went, especially in the past years. Those unserious flings of his. Never to amount to anything substantial.
Did he try to have something serious in the past? Oh yes, for sure. But it never worked out. Then he gave up his dream and just let himself have a good time with people he found to be nice and attractive.
To pick up my point of self-sabotage from my last meta post – I’ve come to a point where I believe Emmrich is a kind of chaser. I know someone like that and it’s so fucking tragic.
Emmrich feels deeply and strongly. When he falls in love with someone it’s a lot of emotion. But at that point it’s all dream, want, wish. As soon as someone returns these feelings - those dreams, wants and wishes become reality. And reality is scary. In this wishful dream about the eternal flame, there is no fear. No fights. No loss. But that is not reality. As soon as it becomes reality, he gets scared. Before, his feelings were no threat, because you can’t lose what you don’t have. Once those feelings are returned, there is a clear possibility of losing, of being lost, of being left behind.
Emmrich is not a chaser because he enjoys the hunt. He is a chaser because being loved by someone is scary. So damn scary. So, he starts to pick fights and is looking for excuses. From being the chaser, he becomes the chased. He is hunted by his fears, and his fight or flight instincts go all flight.
After years of this cycle he gives up. Resigns himself to flings and little romances without even thinking of more. Or so he thinks. Dreams like that don’t die, they just get buried.
And I’d think that there was not many, even of those short term flings, lately. His life revolves around work and Manfred.
Now remember he comments on Rook “showing unexpected interest in a new companion”.
First of all – unexpected.
They are a daring adventurer. He thinks of himself clearly as the more boring one, compared to Rook. He never expected any of those flirts. But he is clearly flattered.
Second – companion.
That was such a weird way of saying “hey do you like me?”. This whole “companion” thing does not scream “I have FEELZ for you/you have FEELZ for me” but rather, “I think you might want to spend some quality time with me”.
The possible answers - dashing good looks, kindness, his way of words.
He feels he is fortunate if Rook thinks him good looking. Hallo, Mr. Professor, sir… Have you looked in the mirror lately? Consider that he is meticulously grooming himself, takes his exercises daily in the morning. That man does not like himself aging. I think it is a reminder of how his pending death is a step closer every day. But it shows, to him, that his efforts of taking care of himself are not in vain. Or maybe it shows him that his age does not matter. Rook finds him attractive despite (or because) of his physical age.
Rooks comment on his very charming way of putting things makes him hope his years behind the lectern have proved useful. Hey *years* behind the lectern. Again, this is a way of saying his age is NOT a problem but a benefit.
If Rook remarks his kindness, he answers “you humble me”. It’s the one answer that does not touch his age/experience/looks. It’s a remark on an innate character trait he possesses. Kindness. His whole demeanor in this option shows he is actually touched. And maybe a bit baffled. He did not expect this, at all. Its like he sees his kindness not as an attractive trait. Which he should. He is nice without TM and its sexy as hell.
The next part is his statement “If your attentions go beyond charming flattery… that would interest me, indeed”. This reads to me not necessarily as “do you have feelings for me” but as “do you just enjoy the flirting, or do you want to do more than flirting?”
And oh boy, does he want to do more than flirting. I want to repeat my earlier statement – this man has given up on love. But some little fling with an exiting young adventure who was constantly, awkwardly flirting with him? Hell, yeah.
(I want to remind you that we were able to have mutually enjoyed flirts with Dorian as fem!Inky. You can flirt with someone and still never want to fuck them. And you are also perfectly able to want more than flirting without having deeper feelings. Like sweet, dump Shepaloo said it so eloquently “Lets bang, okay?”)
Again, I want to pick up a point of my last post, that this is all surface level thoughts. I do believe that their emotional attraction and depth of feelings go deeper, from the start. But how often does it take quite a bit of time to realize one’s own feelings. Especially this wonderful, silly man whose modus operandi is running away.
Now, an interested Rook can answer in an open “lets see where this goes” way. Mirroring his rather open idea of a little romance, a fling, some quality time. Something that does not have to end in an eternal flame, but a simple enjoyment and exploration of the moment.
Rook can also reply with a “I think they do.” – What Rook actually says is “I think they already…”
And conveniently Rooks answer here is cut short by our sweet boy Manfred. They get cut short, no matter what answer you choose, but in this specific case, I am convinced this was very much on purpose. What would the whole sentence have been?
“I think they already go way beyond flattery.” (?!?) Something along those lines. But that goes into danger zone. WAY into danger zone.
If Rook had finished that sentence, at that point in their budding romance? It would have been over before is all started. Too much, too soon. Too much for him, period.
Now we have the hard lock – their sweet romantic moment in the Memorial Gardens. And he is smitten. He fell hook, line, and sinker for his own play pretend. Just a little romance, but that man is falling, fast. (Not that he would admit that to himself).
A beautiful date, all arranged by Emmrich, to spend time with Rook. Because a couple should have a quite moment to get to know each other. I mean there were menu cards with gilded edges, ffs. And, oh yes, they were “lets dig into the feelings”, he said couple. He is falling, falling, falling fast. But it still hasn’t hit him, how deep he has fallen for his darling Rook. Poor Emmrich.
Then a fight, where we really see the wet kitten side of him for the first time. A little wet, feral kitten, hissing at the hand that’s trying to feed it.
Emmrich is lashing out for no good reason (or no good reason for anyone but himself). There is no real confidence there but a desperate act of pretending. An iron (slipping) grip, trying to control himself and the narrative. Shoulders squared, back straight, an arrogant stance, raised chin, turned half-away from Rook, and a condescending way of talking to Rook.
Like I said in my last post – he is working his way up to breaking up with them. And he tells himself it’s like ripping off a bandaid. Be strong and confident and say what you have to say, and they will see the wisdom of that.
It’s only that, they don’t. Because there IS NO wisdom in what he is doing right now. They don’t take his bullshit but throw it back at him. They don’t accept his mock excuses.
Look at him here, how he looks down ON them. I can’t recall any other time he looks down on Rook, despite him being a tall king.
Especially the route where Rook throws it in his face that he DOES in fact love them. Speak what he can’t even think.
“I can’t… At my…”
“I can’t love you. At my age…” Why not? Does he not deserve love, just because he is a bit older? It’s just heartbreaking how he views himself.
And again, he lashes out.
“I am perfectly serious.” So is Rook.
“One of us has to pay attention to these things.” As if Rook is not paying attention. They got to the meat and bones of his problem in just a few seconds.
No matter what route you go here, the gist is the same. He is scared shitless, treats Rook like a child, and goes on how the is the only one thinking the important thoughts.
When Rook in reality way ahead of him. They thought about it and came to the conclusion that being with Emmrich is a really good idea.
Rook knew they were falling for someone older than them. (Even if that age difference is just a decade, with a mid-40s Rook.) They knew it, and still went with it. They are not a child who is too inexperienced and stupid to make decisions about their (love) life.
But now, here, at this moment? Emmrich treats them with disdain. Like a silly little person, who does not think things through. He holds himself above them. Physically and mentally. They are too young, he knows better.
And not once has he done that before. He always treated them as an equal. He follows them into the most dangerous situations ffs. He trusts them with his life in a fight against would-be gods.
All that fear and anger at himself that reaches a new high get redirected at Rook.
The next day they are off to Tearstone Island. That night must have been hell. For both of them. But its going to get much much worse.
In any case, Emmrich seems to have come to some conclusion or realization, because on that island? He apologizes.
They both did react very emotionally, but he came at Rook with superiority and, to a certain degree, dishonesty. All fueled by his fear. So that he is the one to take the first step and apologize to Rook instead of doubling down? An important step. As I said in my last post – he NEEDED to be called out. A sweet and nice counterargument would not have had the impact Rooks raw an honest emotion hat on him.
Emmrich “Rook? Darling? I wanted to say-“
Rook “Yeah, about that argument…”
Emmrich “(Sighs) It’s no time to apologize, is it?”
And here we have the most heartbreaking line, in hindsight. “We’ll talk back home, Emmrich. I promise.”
(Narrator: but they would, in fact, not talk about it back home. Because someone would not go home.)
One fight and weeks of horror later, they find themselves in a private crypt and finally they do more than share a kiss.
Now - to the point I originally wanted to explore with this post – is this in fact their first time? (I am sorry, but my brain is a circle and nothing makes sense)
Let’s look at what evidence we have from the cut-scene.
Rook did not know he is an early riser.
That leaves two possibilities:
They never had sex up until that point.
They did have sex, but never spent the night together.
Now what does that mean?
This depends a lot on your personal Rook and how they feel about sex in general. If Rook wants to wait, or is not ready, he will absolutely accept and respect that.
But for the sake of this analysis lets go with the idea that Rook is not opposed to sex at an earlier date.
They never slept with each other
Why? He clearly was not opposed to casual relationships in the past. What would hold him back now? Especially if you recall Laces comment about them moving fast. Why not jump into the bedroom?
Now my first crack theory is that they get interrupted, like every time. (Rook interrupted The Dread Wolf, and now he cursed them to always be interrupted when they want to have some private time)
But now, in all seriousness, maybe it’s just that part of him DOES realize that this goes beyond a very unserious relationship. That they both have deeper feelings, that spark of something greater, something beautiful.
So, he holds back. He does not give his all. He is charming, he is flirty, he takes Rook on dates. But it’s all very technical. Very performative. Yes, he is a very romantic man, yes he enjoys those moments. But there is always a feeling of control.
Those moments when you see him let go a bit (that kiss beneath the eternal lovers, “I think, sometimes you indulge me”), are so beautiful and you glimpse a bit of the man behind those walls.
He has a tell, you see. (I am telling you about it further down)
But generally, he feels very much in control of himself. And to lie with Rook? To go all the way? Too dangerous. Who knows what happens in that sweet moment after la petit mort? What secrets would his lips spill?
2. They slept together, but did not spent the night together.
They do have sex, but sleep alone in their own beds. Casual sex is fine, but to fall asleep in each other’s arms? Too much. Too real. Sex okay, but sleepy post coitus cuddly? Woah, slow down your horses.
So, they have sex, preferably in Rooks bed. First, does he even have a bed? Second, it’s way easier to leave Rooks bed after the act, than throwing them out afterwards.
Oh, and how many reasons he has. Rook needs their uninterrupted sleep; they are stressed and must have proper rest. He wants to get some reading done before he retires. He needs to look after Manfred.
Oh, he is a bad liar, for sure. He is lying more to himself than to Rook. I would think that (if this is the build up to their fight) Rook realizes that he is giving poor excuses.
And the sex itself? A technical 10/10. He knows his anatomy, after all. But his heart is not really in it. He can’t allow himself to. He holds back, keeps a tight lid on his emotions. They both are well spent afterwards, but like so much else, it’s performative. Technically very well executed, but rarely do you see HIM, the real him, behind all that performance. Whenever something slips through, he reels back and closes up.
And then we are in that crypt. Rook was gone for weeks. The last thing they said that night before were words of anger. Rook called him out on his feelings and from that point on there was no possible way of lying to himself anymore. Those feelings were there. They were real. Rooks feelings were real. And those weeks spent in desperation, trying to get them back? Those walls came crashing down.
His true face, when all the walls are gone? You see that face when Rook leads him to the coffin. There is no pretense anymore. No performance. Just him, and all his love for Rook. The amount of emotion the animation team packed into those short moments in the cutscene? Mindblowing. Who ever crafted that expression on his face? They are the GOAT. I watch this part of that scene on repeat, and it never gets old.
So, I told you about how he has a tell, yes? Okay, two actually, but we all know surprised pikachu Emmrich. In that last scene it is resolved in the most beautiful way.
He looks down, when something touches him deeply, when he goes into his feels.
A few (way to many) examples:
And the worst wet kitten look? After the fight, when Rook leaves.
Its a look of shame. Of hurt. This man is hurting so badly.
Now here at the end we have that moment when Rook leads him to the coffin. His face turns down, like before. But here he looks up at Rook. He does not turn his eyes away but looks directly at them. Ahhh my heart.
Now, think about the fact that ROOK is leading in that moment?
In those moments where Rook leads or startles him (or is simply annoying enough so that the truth slips out), you see the most emotion from him.
Rooks flirting startles him, and he has a pikachu face reaction every time.
Their first kiss? Rook leans against the monument, and leans up, telling him without words that NOW is the time for a kiss. How can he not go for a second kiss?
That moment when Rook calls Manfred “our son”? He very conveniently ignores the word “OUR” and goes in defense mode over the word “son”. But called out on his feelings for Manfred? How can he deny them? He has tears in his voice when he says how he would not exchange this moment for anything? A real, deep emotion.
In their fight Emmrich is again all technical, all performance, so logical (or what he sells himself as logic). But Rook wrestles that moment from him and takes lead, calls him out on his bullshit.
In the crypt Rook pulls him up into a kiss and then leads him to the coffin, guiding him, taking him with them.
Most of the other times he takes the lead, very much in control. But the most emotions you get from him, are those times Rooks leads, when he lets go of this tight control over himself, or he is startled in to a reaction. For all the age difference that is played up in their relationship, in the important moments Rook is the one who guides. And he follows where they lead.
Those little moans he makes? If they did have sex before, I bet he did not make those sounds then. Where they did have some incredible sex, now they are making love. Open, vulnerable. He gives in.
And then they fall asleep together. Skin to skin, arms and legs intertwined. Their hands caressing, no sound but that of their heartbeats and soft breaths. Pure and utter contentment. In that moment nothing exists but them. Can you imagine that moment he woke up? The amount of emotions he must have felt then? This need to speak those little words? Those huge little words. He does not say them, not yet. But he is almost ready.
Finally, they stand there, on the battlefield of Elgar’nans madness. And he tells Rook. The last wall falls. Gives the most precious thing he can give to anyone.
“I love you.”
#emmrich volkarin#CHARACTER META ESSAY MY BELOVED#this literally ALL of this#dragon age#dragon age 4#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age veilguard#dragon age the veilguard#da4#DAtV#veilguard#SORRY I WASN'T PLANNING ON GOING ESSAY MODE MYSELF I WENT INTO A TRANCE AND WHEN I WOKE UP IT WAS WRITTEN 😅👉👈
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A Brief Existential Crisis (Matt Murdock x f!Reader; Fic)
Because this fluffy idea wouldn’t let me go so now you all get a drabble. Set in TRT!Verse but not required reading. SFW. Minor spoilers for ep 8 of She Hulk!
"She didn't know who I was," Matt said mournfully, staring blindly up at you.
"I'm sorry," you said, radiating as much sympathy as you could while also still kinda distracted by the Los Angeles weather report on the hotel tv. How was 68 degrees considered freezing?
"No one else recognized me either," he mumbled, his chest heaving on a great sigh. "All night. One guy even called me a gold ninja devil."
"Ridiculous," you agreed as he slowly edged his head further into your lap. You forced down your grin, which was especially difficult when his expression was so pitiful, not unlike that of a kitten caught in the rain. "Yes? What is it, beloved husband of mine?"
"You know what I want." He made a sad little noise, arching further into your lap until his head bumped your opposite hand where you'd settled it on your thigh. "Please, sweetheart. I need the dopamine after everything that happened."
You snorted and gave in, running your fingers fondly through his dark hair. You even made sure to scratch with your nails just for the way it made him purr and melt into your lap, his eyes rolling back as his mouth fell slack.
Unfortunately, this particular existential crisis was too great to be struck low but something so minor as your fingers in his hair.
"Is it... the suit?" he mumbled, the words just a little slurred. "Not... mm, mm.... recognizable?"
Honestly, considering the color, he's now recognizable from space.
It was just a good thing he was handsome enough to pull it off.
"You're always recognizable as the only Devil-based hero with any real charm," you said confidently, keeping your thoughts to yourself. You shifted your fingers to his temple, scratching at a new spot. You were rewarded with a blatant moan, Matt's toes curling in his socks. "Trust me. It's not you. It's them. LA is, uh... just... more focused on... its own thing. You know how it is. So fuck em. You're still my favorite even if they don't know you."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm. And think about it this way. You might be less known, but that just means you're like, uh..."
"...I'm small-time," he sighed gloomily. "Just admit it."
"Hang on, I've got a comparison coming." You rolled your head up, narrowing your eyes at the ceiling in thought as Matt rolled over to burrow in against your abdomen with an exaggerated groan of sorrow. But there was no hiding his grin, not once you could feel it. "Don't suffocate yourself just yet."
He mumbled something unintelligible, and presumably tragic and martyr-y.
It took you a minute, but then you nodded. "Ok, I've got it."
He grunted, and tipped his head a little in prompting until you started dragging your fingers through his hair again, this time at the back of his head where the Devil mask always made him sore. The, "Mm?" he let out in response was glutted and thick, like the slurred purr of a cat on its back in a puddle of sunshine.
"You are basically one of those 'best kept secrets of the city' things," you said lightly. "All the tourists flock to the flashy stuff, restaurants that are shiny and get all the attention. But the locals know where the good stuff is, the quality stuff, and they know the best burgers always come from that one mom and pop hole in the wall. They don't tell the non-locals, cause someone might steal the recipe or buy it out. That's what you are. You're that burger."
There was a pause, and then he tipped his face up so you could see his warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "That was very sweet."
"Thank you."
"It's also horseshit."
You groaned, rolling your head back as he laughed and dropped his head back onto your lap. "Come on, it was a good comparison!"
"No, no, there's no helping it. I just have to grieve my murdered ego," he sighed, blinking sadly up at you. Or your chin, really, but it was close enough. "There is one thing that might help me feel better, though, and distract me from my wounded pride."
"What's that?"
He hummed, licking his lips as he rolled onto his side, his head still on your lap, close enough for him to nuzzle at your abdomen. "I could eat."
Your brow furrowed. "We literally ate an hour ago. We went through In-N-Out. You were not impressed, you blasphemer."
He hummed, before leaning in and pointedly nipping the waistband of your sweats.
Oh.
"I'm hungry, sweetheart," he murmured, tipping his head down towards your lap as he drew in a slow inhale. "So hungry and empty where all my pride used to be. Can't I just have a little to help fill that void?"
"Oh my god, Matt," you choked out, two seconds away from losing it as he rolled upright to grab your legs and drag you down the bed until you were flat on your back.
"You're the one that chose food for your metaphor," he said with a grin, nudging your legs apart. "I'm just following my wife’s example."
"Oh alright, I suppose I could be charitable just this once. You did get spanked by a Hulk today, after all."
"She caught me. She didn't-"
"Spanked," you repeated gleefully, making him snort. "Want me to kiss the print on your ass and make it better?"
"At least let me eat dinner first."
"Fine. But I expect it as my tip at the end."
"Deal."
#matt murdock x f!reader#the red thread#daredevil x f!reader#daredevil#matt murdock#fic#fanfic#drabble#reader#reader fic#reader insert#she hulk attorney at law spoilers#matt using his misfortune in order to get sympathetic head scratches#and dinner while he's at it
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Make Your Wish || Ivar the Boneless x fem!reader
Masterlist
Summary: Ivar decides to cheer you up after an unfortunate event that left you feeling down
Warnings: none ♥
Word count: ~ 1175
Authors: Fenrir & Cass A/N: The prompt for today is: Stargazing according to my best friend, "Ivar speaks as if he watched too much Lion King before it was even animated, lol” ♥
There's no way you can believe it: Hvitserk cheated on you, and he isn't even sorry about the thing.
Even though you knew Hvitserk's tendencies, you hoped this time would be different; you hoped to love and be loved.
Now that you're sitting outside The Great Hall sobbing and trying to calm down as the feast is taking place, you realize you're a fool.
The inside of the building is filled with loud and happy sounds.
The only thing you want is to hide from everyone, even if others have already forgotten what happened.
Throughout the entire feast thrown by his older brother, Ivar kept an eye on you, including the scene where you caught a drunk Hvitserk fucking a thrall. After seeing, you running out, crying like a child, he decided you shouldn't be left alone.
Since he is used to crawling, Ivar decides to leave his crutch against the wooden table.
As he crawls by, he hisses and curses people, trying to think of a place you could go.
Upon leaving the Great Hall, Ivar sits casually on the ground with his back against the wall; although he is good at crawling, this shit is fucking exhausting.
It only takes him a second or two to notice the shoe prints you left, and he instinctively follows them as he scans the path leading deeper into the village.
Sitting on stones, you wipe your tears away. Accepting it is still very difficult for you. Why does he do this to you when you tried your best?
You almost fall off the stone when something suddenly touches your leg. Sighing with relief, you realize it's Ivar. "By the gods, Ivar! You scared me."
He smiles mischievously. "I didn't mean to, I mean it," he says, sitting flat on his ass and adjusting his legs. "I saw you leaving and thought I'd check out the reason."
Leaving the stone, you sit next to him.
While Ivar isn't perfect, he can be a decent man when he wants to be.
"Check out the reason? You and everyone else know why."
"Hvitserk." The word is spit through his clenched teeth as if it were some kind of dark spell. It's always Hvitserk. What did he do today?"
Your tears flow again as you explain, "He fucked the thrall, everyone saw it, he made a fool of me! What the hell was he thinking? I was good to him, and he just treated me like I was nothing? Am I really that useless, Ivar?"
The abrupt, unexpected outburst makes Ivar blink a few times and grimace a bit; he had always had trouble dealing with crying people.
You quickly wipe away the tears, "I'm sorry, you probably don't care about this. I really didn't expect this to happen."
Ivar instinctively wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. "Hush," he whispers.
Taking a deep breath and nuzzling him, you let out a heavy sigh; it feels so strange, but also so good and calming at the same time.
"Thank you," you whisper.
It's dark outside, so you cannot see his reaction - he smiles to himself. "You're welcome."
As you pull away, you look at him and say, "I bet you think I'm pathetic. At the end of the day, I heard so many things about Hvitserk and his unfaithfulness, so I don't see why I am surprised. I was so stupid, and now I cry for that!"
Nodding occasionally, he listens to you. To his utter surprise, he feels bad for you, and he feels he knows exactly how you feel. He has felt that way before, too. "I didn't say that, these are your words, Y/N," he tells you softly.
Nodding, you wipe your cheek, looking at him. "It must have been difficult crawling all the way here. Thank you for coming to check on me," you tell him, offering him a gentle smile.
Ivar shrugs simply. "Why are you worried about a cripple? You're going through hardship, not me," Ivar says calmly and improves his position to rest his back more against the rocks you sat on before. Ivar whispers, "Look," and he points his index finger at the dark sky.
As you gaze up at the sky, you improve your position so that your back also rests against the stones. There are many stars in the dark sky, like beautiful lanterns set against a deep darkness.
"Make your wish quickly, Y/N!" Ivar shouts, pointing at two shooting stars. As he closes his eyes, he murmurs something to himself.
Before looking at him, you also close your eyes and murmur your own wish. "What was your wish?" You ask him openly.
A shrug of the shoulders accompanies his response, "For Bjørn to die. What was yours?"
With a blink, you soon giggle and shake your head; it's never clear if Ivar's serious or joking. You respond, "To meet someone who will make me happy," without much thought.
After a moment of thinking, Ivar leans forward and kisses your cheek briefly. The smirk on his lips widens as he stares at you for a moment. "It appears that the second part of my wish has just come true," he adds.
Totally confused by his behaviour, you stare at him in shock. "Second part? What's that?"
"That if I kiss you, you won't smack me."
You smack him on the head with a frown, then kiss his cheek.
Looking up at the stars, he smiles brightly and rests his back against the rocks. "Do you like stargazing?"
"Honestly, I do. They are so beautiful, just like diamonds or other shiny stones," you nodded and returned to watching the stars. "How about you?"
"I do, actually. I enjoy spending some productive alone time overthinking all my mistakes," he smiles, more to himself, joking darkly. "As stupid as it may sound, I like to imagine that my father and otherwise kings, among gods, are looking down on us from this endless darkness above."
"It's what my mom says, too," you smile and point at the big, bright star in the sky. "I give you my left hand as proof that this is Ragnar right now looking at us."
After cocking his brow, Ivar nods. "It might be. But if you're mistaken, you'd be left handleless, wouldn't you?"
Playfully pushing his shoulder, you tease, "He's watching his youngest son."
Despite his eyebrows cocked, Ivar gives you a stern look before smiling widely. "I would appreciate some help with horses if you could join me at the stables tomorrow. It's my turn to take care of them."
"I would love to help you, especially now that I don't have to worry about Hvitserk," you nod your head a little too eagerly.
Ivar smiles and squeezes your hand, telling you "Fuck him, you deserve fucking better. "I already cannot wait for tomorrow," you laugh, squeezing his hand. It may be that the youngest Ragnarsson is not as bad as his depictions by others suggest, you think to yourself
#ivar the boneless#Ivar x reader#ivar x you#Ivar the Boneless#Ivar the Boneless fluff#Ivar fluff#Ivar the Boneless x reader fluff#Ivar the Boneless fic#Ivar's heathen army#Ivar Ragnarsson#vikings#vikings x reader#vikings fic#vikings fanfiction#vikings fluff#fic recs fluffember#paperpanda fluffember#fluffember 2022
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Part 2
Pairing: Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: Language
Author’s Note: This was intended to be a one-part story but the lovely response it got on AO3 has prompted me to make it a series. I now have a ten-page word document of plot in bullet points to get through so, enjoy!
Am I writing two series simultaneously? Yes. Has this ever worked out for me in the past? No.
Part 1
---
You stood in front of the mirror, squinting at the small, circular scar that sat a few inches left of your belly button. It had healed remarkably well in the few weeks you’d been home. You tilted your head slightly, musing that if it weren’t for the weird, lightning-esque burn marks that sprouted from it in every direction, you probably would’ve been able to pass it off as a birthmark. You just shrugged at your reflection, turned and hopped in the shower.
Readjusting to normal life had been difficult, the hardest part being figuring out exactly what ‘normal’ meant now. The city was still littered with various memorials and floral tributes, some fresh, some neglected; any noise louder than a car horn made every pedestrian in the street flinch and shake with terror; new charities for people who’d lost homes and businesses were canvassing on the streets constantly while tabloid journalists spent their days trying desperately to weed out and expose the numerous scammers amongst them.
Thankfully, though, the biggest inconvenience you’d experienced so far was the messed up subway timetables due to various tunnels caving in. Despite your injury, you felt like you’d gotten away lightly- missing the immediate aftermath was a blessing that not many in the city were afforded.
Unfortunately, your good luck stopped there. You’d barely heard from Bucky at all and you hadn’t seen him in person since he dropped you off at your place all those weeks ago. It was understandable, the whole fucking world was now obsessed with “The Avengers” and he was caught up in the eye of that storm, but you couldn’t help feeling a bit like you’d been abandoned. After everything the two of you had been through, it was really hurtful that he’d stayed away for so long.
After making yourself presentable and pulling on your work uniform, you left your apartment, giving a wide berth to the bulldozer working on one of the many potholes in the sidewalk. You wandered onto the subway and managed to find a seat opposite two well-groomed guys in suits, both reading from the same newspaper. They definitely weren’t siblings, they looked nothing alike, but were they a couple? You stared for a few seconds. Their thighs were touching, but that was nothing remarkable on the cramped subway cars, especially now there were half as many services as usual. Both were wearing wedding bands, but they were different colours. This was a tough one.
You smiled to yourself, remembering how god-awful Bucky was at this game. Even after hours of playing it at the window he’d never guess right. One time you saw what was very clearly an elderly mother with her son, probably heading to some kind of special family function judging by their outfits, and he outright refused to accept that they weren’t a couple. None of your watertight evidence could sway him. You pulled a muscle in your stomach laughing, he just muttered something under his breath about how age wasn’t everything in a relationship.
You shook off the daydream and lazily wandered your gaze down to the front page of the newspaper. An audible gasp escaped your lips when you read the headline, drawing the attention of the few commuters in the car without headphones. It read:
Earth’s Mightiest Heroes?
“Avengers” injured in botched overseas operation
Without thinking you leant forward and snatched the paper, rapidly flicking through the pages to find the full article. There was no real information in there, which you should have anticipated- they’d obviously just received a leak comprised of a single sentence and milked it for every dime it was worth. One word did catch your attention, however. Stark. If he had any information on Bucky then, so help you god, you’d get it out of him.
---
Standing in front of Stark Tower, the righteous confidence you’d felt so strongly on that subway car was starting to waver a little. The confrontation had gone remarkably well in your head but now you were starting to realise how stupidly fucking naive it was to think you’d even get an audience with the guy who owns this place. He probably wasn't even in.
You took a deep breath and pushed open the door, doing your very best to look nonchalant in front of the armed security guards while hurrying over to the front desk. The receptionist was staring at his monitor and typing furiously. You cleared your throat, but he didn’t look up. Looking around, you noticed an old-fashioned call bell sitting on the counter- probably an ironic gift from a colleague, maybe for secret Santa. You hit it. He winced and threw out his hand to silence it.
‘How can I help?’
‘I need to talk to Tony Stark.’
He laughed. 'Do you have an appointment?'
'No, but it's urgent.' An unconvinced eyebrow was raised in your direction. ‘It’s about James Barnes.’
‘What about him?’
‘I know him.’
‘So does the rest of the world, sweetie.’
You rubbed your forehead, trying to collect your thoughts. ‘Look, I was with him after the attack, I got hurt and he helped. I’m his friend. Can you tell Stark that, please? I need to know if he’s alright.’
You could feel tears welling in your eyes as you spoke. The receptionist conceded, picking up the phone and waving you over to the seating area, probably figuring it’d be easier to get rid of you with a firm no from up high. He waited in silence for a minute or so before speaking into the receiver in a tone too hushed for you to hear. He frowned, gave you a very confused glance, and whispered again. Then he hung up.
‘Well, looks like it’s your lucky day,’ he gestured towards the elevator, ‘top floor.’
You had no idea how the hell you pulled that off. You strolled over, hit the button and turned to watch the display beside the doors tick slowly upwards. It was only two floors from the top when you suddenly realised that your whole planned confrontation had completely melted out of your head.
There was a loud ding as the doors slid open and you shuffled forwards, finding yourself in an incredibly extravagant penthouse with a view of the whole city. A stern-looking man with an angular beard and dark glasses approached you, not lifting his gaze from the phone he was tapping at hurriedly. As he got closer you noticed a few small cuts and bruises littered across his face.
‘Tell me what you told the guy behind the desk.’
He still wasn’t looking up, his abrupt questioning catching you off guard. You scrambled for a second and he clicked his fingers impatiently.
‘I’m a friend of James, I want to know if he’s alright.’
‘Wrong. Tell me what you said.’
‘I dont-’ you could feel your face starting to heat up, ‘I just- I’m confused.’
‘It’s a simple question.’
‘I don’t remember.’
He was obviously irritated, sighing as he dropped his hands and met your gaze for the first time. ‘You’re the one who got shot, right?’
You nodded, too intimidated to do much else.
‘Show me.’ He gestured towards your stomach, noting your trepidation as he did so. ‘Look, I need proof that you are who you say you are if we're going to continue this conversation.’
You nodded again, grabbing a fistful of your shirt and hesitantly lifting it to reveal the eerie-looking scar.
‘Gross,’ he gestured for you to cover up, ‘alright.’
Turning on his heels, he stormed across the floor towards a circular seating area. You guessed that you were supposed to follow him. The shiny floor squeaked under your cheap shoes, your cheeks flushing when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the huge windows and remembered that you were still wearing your barista uniform. Stark waved you into a seat.
‘Alright, so your boyfriend is in Siberia, he-’
‘Siberia?’
‘Yes. He was doing some recon when we lost him, we thought-’
‘Lost him?’
‘Can you not talk unless you have something useful to add, please?’ You smiled apologetically. ‘Thank you. Basically, what we thought was a small, residual Hydra cell turned out to be a big operation and we were outnumbered. Some of us were injured, but there was a party we lost track of. Bucky’s party. He’s probably fine, we just don’t know-’
Stark clocked the confusion on your scrunched-up face. He sighed loudly, using one hand to brace himself against the table while the other moved to lift up his glasses and aggressively rub his eyes.
‘Go on.’
‘...Hydra?’
‘Jesus Christ.’ He collapsed into the seat behind him. ‘Y’know what, it doesn’t even matter. All you need to know is that he’s probably fine but, if he's been captured, it could be very bad. We think it would be a good idea for someone he’s close with to be nearby, just in case.’
‘In case what?’
He shot you a warning look but this time you didn’t back down. Your heart was in your throat, you were getting desperate for answers.
‘Look, I don’t have much time, I just came back here to scramble some more manpower and tech. I’m leaving in a few hours, are you coming or not?’
‘To Siberia?’
‘No, to Disney World. Are you sure you didn’t get shot in the brain?’
---
Part 3
---
#bucky#buckybarnes#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky fanfiction#buckyfanfic#buckyfic#bucky fanfic#bucky fic#buckybarnes x y/n#bucky barnes x y/n#buckybarnesxyou#buckybarnes x you#bucky barnes x you#buckybarnesxreader#buckybarnes x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky fluff#buckyfluff#bucky barnes fluff#buckybarnesfluff#marvel#marvel fic#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic
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warm.
it’s too warm, was your first waking thought as you sluggishly waded through the mound of blankets that encompassed you to get a breath of fresh air (you assumed bokuto and kuroo were the culprits for your warm and fuzzy hellhole). your eyes first fell on the television playing the credits to the second or third pirates of the caribbean movie on mute, the remote haphazardly thrown somewhere to your left as though the person who did so left in a hurry.
speaking of people, there was no one left in the room as you slowly joined the land of the living. a part of you suspected everyone had gone to bed but atsumu or akaashi would’ve woken you up if that had been the case.
belatedly, you recognized voices coming from the front door and your still sleep-addled brain lit up. oh! you thought. food must be here! untangling yourself from the blankets proved to be an exhausting feat because by the time you were done, your body was covered in a sheen of sweat underneath oikawa’s sweats and sakusa’s hoodie.
ugh, gross.
you began to make your way towards the door, the blood rushing through your head preventing you from hearing the details of conversation but knowing atsumu, he was just haggling for a lower price even though you told him repeatedly, that isn’t how pizza places work tsum.
as you drew nearer to the commotion, you started to pick up on the heavy tension in the air, leaving you extremely uncomfortable. you had no idea what the cause of it was but you did know it was making most of the boys upset, who, by the way, hadn’t noticed you creeping around just yet.
a feminine voice rang out from outside the doorway and though you were still attempting to gain your hearing, the sound sent chills down your spine. it sounded saccharine, sweet, familiar, and oh so evil.
even with a head full of cotton, you figured now wouldn’t be the best time to reveal yourself, what with the clear discomfort permeating the atmosphere, but your big fat mouth apparently had other plans.
“‘tsum, just let the poor pizza lady go,” you muttered, the beginnings of a headache making itself known at the back of your skull. you were a little too caught up with the dwarf banging at your head with a sledgehammer to notice the shock that everyone in the room turned to look at you with.
a gentle hand grasped at your forearm, whispering something into your ear before attempting to pull you back to the living room, but that same familiar voice from the door kept you planted where you stood.
“oh, the princess finally makes herself known,” meiko sneered, her face finally coming into focus, striking you with pang of fear straight through your heart. “funny, i thought i left you speechless the last time we... ‘talked’.”
“ya shut yer fuckin mouth,” atsumu lunged at her but was stopped by sakusa’s arm around his waist, successfully holding him in place. meiko just giggled, taking a step into the house, her heels clicking as she glided across the hardwood floors.
in the back of your head, you noted that meiko looked unusually beautiful, her makeup flawlessly done and her outfit complementing it perfectly, almost reminiscent of how she used to be before... well, just “before”.
you watched the boys unconsciously angle themselves as a protective wall around you, the person holding your arm (who you now realized was koushi) pulling you in tighter until your back was resting against his chest.
a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little suffocated but the other, more self preserving, bit felt irrationally safe and protected around these boys. it was nice... or it would’ve been if meiko wasn’t taking herself on a tour around the house as though she hadn’t been living there for almost the past year.
“you all can tone down on the guard dog act. i’m not here to fight,” she said as she pretended to wipe dust off the island. “you’re not?” bokuto’s skeptical voice rose up from behind you, one of his hands finding yours underneath the massive sleeves of your (sakusa’s) hoodie.
meiko shook her head with an empty smile, her perfectly painted red lips stretching unnaturally wide. “no, of course not! i’ve just come here to collect.”
the boys collectively tensed around you, akaashi whispering for kenma to go find yachi and quickly. as he slipped away, you made eye contact with sakusa who gave you an imperceptible nod that you assumed meant one thing — keep her talking.
“collect what?” you asked, your voice coming out weaker than you wanted, but you hoped she didn’t notice. she cocked her head as her eyes snapped to you as if she’d forgotten you were there, but judging by her growing smirk, you knew that wasn’t the case.
“my boys of course!” meiko clapped gleefully, clicking her way over toward kuroo to run her hand over his bicep, laughing when he jolted away from her touch. “they’ve always been mine, you know that don’t you?”
it felt like a cold bucket of water had been dropped over your head. you felt frozen again, the same feeling of dread creeping up your spine as it did when meiko attacked you. in turn, you barely noticed kenma’s return who whispered something to sakusa — an action that didn’t go unnoticed by meiko.
“what’re my boys talking about? are you plotting against me?” she pouted, scooting closer to the pair. kenma visibly paled and moved to hide himself behind sakusa’s broad shoulders. “we aren’t doing anything, meiko.”
wrong answer.
“oh, we both know that isn’t the case kiyoomi. i’m not a fucking idiot.” meiko’s voice filled with venom before moving even closer still. you felt your heart beating rapidly in your chest, your hand gripping bokuto’s even tighter.
what if she brought some kind of weapon to the house? what if she hurt you? what if she hurt them?
before you could think, you were standing in front of the group, the boys calling out your name as meiko’s face lit up. “so the precious little princess wants to take a stand! let me have it then, huh? let me see what all the craze is about!”
despite the fear thudding in your chest, you stood tall, glaring at her with your head held high. “the boys are not yours, meiko,” you declared, her mouth instantly opening in protest but you refused to let her speak.
“they aren’t possessions or objects you can own and treat like shit. they are people, real living, breathing people and they aren’t mine either. they have full reign to do what they want, when they want, to make their own choices and decisions. and you know what? they didn’t choose you or me. they chose themselves and their happiness over any bullshit you or i could try and sell them. so please, for the love of god, get your shit together, put it in a box and take it to fucking therapy.”
by the end of your impromptu speech, your chest was heaving but you felt good. really good. adrenaline was rushing through your veins and you felt powerful. out the corner of your eye, you noticed osamu and daichi standing at the bottom of the stairs with something akin to awe on their faces.
yeah bitches. take it all in.
unfortunately, while you were basking in the feeling of badassery, you completely missed meiko’s eyes lighting up with pure, unadulterated,
rage.
you faintly heard someone call your name before you were taken to the ground by meiko leaping at you like an animal. the two of you scrambled about on the hardwood, her hands yanking at your clothes and leaving scratches on your skin but you were sure as hell giving her a run for her money.
you finally managed to get on top of her, pinning her arms to the ground but that wasn’t before you gained a hard elbow to the side and a bruise to your face. meiko thrashed and shook in your hold but you were not wavering, trying to keep her entirely still for...
well, for what exactly?
almost as though they were on cue, you heard the sound of police sirens wailing in the distance, growing louder as they drew closer to the house. underneath you, meiko’s eyes widened before she began fighting even harder than she’d done before, her erratic movements making it much more difficult to keep your hold on her.
luckily, you had extremely muscular men at your disposal, one of which (osamu — even though he was a dick, he was still incredibly muscular dick) held down meiko’s arms as the lapd stormed the building.
the police officers easily retracted meiko from your arms and cuffed her, taking her to the back of the cop car, despite her loud and insistent threats on you and everyone you love.
very disney villain-esque.
a kind looking officer helped you to your feet and walked you out to the porch where he began to ask you and the boys a few questions. you answered them honestly and you were genuinely proud of how well you were handling the whole situation when—
“bubs, you’re shaking.” sure enough, when you looked down at your hands, you were twitching uncontrollably, the reality of the events that just occurred finally sinking in.
you were just attacked. again.
you and your friends were threatened.
meiko was sitting in the back of a fucking cop car.
“what the fuck,” you whispered, eyes staring unblinking at your palms. the same officer mentioned something about shock, prompting all the boys to gather around you; atsumu pulled you in between him and sakusa, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, kenma and bokuto took hold of your quivering hands, sugawara and oikawa sat off to the side watching you with blatant concern, and kuroo and akaashi spoke to the officer in hushed tones.
the man nodded and shook their hands before shooting you a pitying smile and heading back to the car where meiko was waiting.
“it’s over angel, ‘s over,” atsumu muttered into your hair, pressing kisses to your forehead in between each phrase. you leaned into his touch but you refused to take your eyes off meiko who was watching the whole scene from the backseat, her eyes wide with anger, hurt, and confusion.
you didn’t bother dwelling on it, instead focusing on evening out your breathing and looking at the car drive over the horizon. you heard yachi’s soft voice calling everyone inside, atsumu lifting you up to your feet and walking with you, never once taking his hands off of you.
still, his words echoed in your head, even as yachi spoke of the end of the hyper house, even as the boys brought you to your room, and even as they all automatically cuddled around you in an attempt to get you to sleep.
it’s over. it’s all finally over.
you couldn’t keep the grin off your face if you tried.

℗ poker face
it’s over
series masterlist
(●’◡’●)ノ
an - OK THE TITLE IS MISLEADING THE STORY IS NOT OVER YET SKENSM (there are 2 more official story chapters before all the endings :3) also m not the biggest fan of this chapter?? so i’d love to hear what y’all think <33 don’t forget to feed me!!
taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you
@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis
the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#hq smau#haikyuu x reader smau#haikyuu smau#haikyuu#hq x reader smau#haikyuu angst#hq angst#haikyuu fluff#hq fluff#atsumu x reader#osamu x reader#kenma x reader#kuroo x reader#bokuto x reader#akaashi x reader#daichi x reader#sugawara x reader#oikawa x reader#iwaizumi x reader#sakusa x reader#tw toxicity#tw toxic behavior#tw toxic people#tw toxic relationship#haikyuu social media au#hq social media au#℗ poker face
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I am guessing the event is still open?
if so I was wondering if you could do A-Alone with Belphie? It can be fluff-angst and gender neutral reader!
^^
Ooooh Belphie is great for this! I wasn’t sure if you wanted a combination of fluff and angst or going from fluff into angst, so I just went with my gut and did both sort of, I hope you enjoy 💖
Prompt: A- Alone
Pairing: Belphegor x Gn!reader
Genre: Fluff/Angst
Your relationship with Belphegor started off rather rough, the whole “killing you” thing really slowed things down in the beginning, however after several months and long conversations working things out, the two of you had become very close.
You could often be found in the twins shared room or up in the attic napping with the seventh born. He could often be found napping in your lap literally anywhere in the house, no matter what time of day or how loud it was, he found comfort in your presence.
Despite what others may think, Belphie felt deep regret for what happened between you two and often the guilt would creep up on him late at night.
When this happened he would text you, checking to see if you were awake, if no response came he would quietly make his way to your room. He always made sure not to wake you, he hated explaining his feelings and would rather curl up against you than tell you how heavy his heart was.
Even the Avatar of Sloth needed help sleeping occasionally, you provided the perfect body warmth to help him do so. Carefully wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close, Belphie would nuzzle his face into the back of your neck, breathing in your scent and immediately feeling relief.
You always knew he had been up late battling his mind when you awoke to him clinging to your body. You knew he didn’t like talking about it because the tears would quickly follow, so instead you would gently run your nails up and down the his arms that kept you pressed against him.
Belphie would wake up to you softly rubbing his arm or playing with his fingers, his heart would skip a beat as he let you keep going, eventually he’d give you a squeeze signaling he was ready to get up for the day. You never questioned him about coming to your room and he appreciated that.
Things were different now.
Belphie found himself wide awake at two in the morning, reaching an arm out and feeling the empty space he sighed. Each night became increasingly difficult, his sleep pattern was thrown off entirely…not that he had a great one to begin with.
You had returned to the human world a few weeks ago, all the brothers were trying to adjust to your absence but Belphegor seemed to struggle the most. His mind continued to torture him with the images and memories of that night, but now he was alone with those thoughts. No one was here to comfort him, not the way you did.
Belphie would crawl out of his bed and make his way to your old room. He would crawl into your bed, wrapping himself in your sheets, trying to inhale your scent that remained on them. Desperately seeking something to calm his mind and think of you instead.
Unfortunately all it did was spur his loneliness. It wasn’t enough to be here in your room, in your bed, with the air still holding a light scent of you. He needed you here next to him, he needed you to be in his arms, he needed your touch to know you were okay.
You had been responding less and less to messages he sent, he knew you were probably busy trying to get your life back together up there, but his mind told him otherwise. His mind told him you were finely free, free from the Devildom, free from his brothers, free from him. You weren’t responding because you never really wanted to be close to him, you were just biding time until you could leave.
Perhaps one day you would return to the Devildom, maybe you would hug him and tell him how much you missed him, that you had trouble sleeping without him as well.
Or maybe you’d never return.
He didn’t blame you. He deserved to be left on read. He deserved to be tortured every night by the haunting images. He deserved to be alone with only his thoughts to keep him company.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#omswd#obey me fanfic#obey me belphegor#obey me belphie#obey me mc#obey me belphegor x reader#obey me belphie x reader#obey me belphie angst#om! belphegor#kats 200+ event
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Codywan Sleep Bingo FAQs
What do I have to include to fill a bingo square?
If you’re interested in participating in the Codywan Sleep Bingo 2023 Challenge, each fill you create must include Cody and Obi-Wan in a romantic and/or sexual pairing AND a sleeping prompt of your choice off your card. That’s it!
What can I put in the FREE square?
You can create whatever you want for the free square! However, and I’m sure this may come as a surprise, it must involve Cody and Obi-Wan and sleeping in some way, shape, or form.
Can I include other pairings?
Sure! Go wild! The only requirement to qualify as a fill is that a) Obi-Wan and b) Cody c) get up to something sleep related. We’d appreciate it if you could tag the other pairing, too, just to make it easier on us, your friendly neighborhood mods.
Also, because this is CODYWAN sleep bingo, Codywan should be:
The primary pairing
The “endgame” pairing
We look forward to seeing what you create!
Wait, isn’t this the FAQ from your last event(s)?
Friend, it sure is! If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!
What if there’s a prompt in my way and I don’t like it?
You have the option to change the position of one (1) prompt on your Codywan Sleep Bingo Card.
Can I ask for a new bingo card if I don’t like enough of my prompts?
Unfortunately, no. Each card is procedurally generated. If we allowed people to just keep asking for new cards in order to easily get a bingo, the format of the event sort of falls apart, and what’s more, it wouldn’t be fair to the people who worked hard to write a prompt they didn’t immediately have an idea for.
We’re sorry if you got a particularly difficult card! We hope you enjoy the challenge of trying to get a bingo anyway, and remember, you can always move one prompt and use your free space!
Can I write a fic using a sleep idea that is not on my bingo card in order to get a bingo?
Absolutely, that is what the Free Space is for! As long as you fill at least five prompts in a row, as per the rules of Bingo, you have achieved a bingo.
No, I mean, can I submit a fic (or five fics) where Cody and Obi-Wan sleep without using my bingo card, and still get a bingo?
Unfortunately, no. We are playing Codywan Sleep Bingo, and so in order to be in the collection/part of the event you do have to be filling prompts on your bingo card. However, if you want to write sleepy fic outside of our event, we are sure not gonna stop you!
How long does my fic have to be if I write?
Each bingo fic fill should be a minimum of 100 words. No upper limit. You can write as much as you want about them having sleepy fun, and, in fact, we’d love it if you did!
Can one piece of art qualify for more than one bingo fill?
Unfortunately, no. Due to the nature of art being a visual medium, we ask for ONE piece of art per ONE fill. We do, however, accept variations on a piece as a second fill, so long as it is not exactly the same piece (sketches, slightly different poses, playing with colors to give the same drawing a different feel–all fine, all separate fills). If you have questions about whether your piece would qualify, reach out and we’re happy to assist!
What if I include all the prompts in one fic?
That sounds impressive and we’d love to see someone pull it off! However, the word count minimum remains the same. So, if you do five prompts in a single fic, it should be at least 500 words long.
What if I already have a fic or piece of art that fits a prompt? Can I add it to the collection?
No, this event only accepts new pieces of art/fic/media/etc. We want to encourage the creation of brand new Codywan pieces, so we can’t accept previously published items of any sort, even if you change them slightly.
Can I have a card to fill outside of the event?
We scoured our brains for prompts and set up the bingo generator specifically for this event. Each card we generate and record information about takes time and we are both very busy. We therefore respectfully ask that you only request a card if you intend to participate in our event.
How many fills do I have to create?
In order to get a bingo, you need to fill a minimum of five (5) prompts in a row. You can fill them in a horizontal, vertical, or diagonal line. You may include one or more prompts in a single fic or a comic or…. Well, you get the idea.
You may also decide to do a blackout! We’d love to see one!
What’s a blackout?
Ah, so you were paying attention when we mentioned that in the last answer, huh? A blackout in bingo is when you complete EVERY SQUARE on your card. That means 25 prompts! We’d LOVE to see some blackouts and each person who completes one gets a special shout-out on our Hall of Fame Bingo Card Winners Supreme Post along with a fierce feeling of pride at a job well done.
When do I have to post?
Technically, you can post your fills whenever. HOWEVER, if you want to be included in our ao3 collection and/or part of our Hall of Fame Bingo Card Winners Supreme Post you must have your bingo completed by March 10th.
Where do I have to post?
Well, you can pretty much post wherever. HOWEVER. If you want to be included in the ao3 collection, your works are going to have to be on ao3. Also, if you put your pieces behind a paywall, the mods are not going to be able to see them and therefore we cannot award you a completed bingo.
How do I get started again?
We’re glad you asked! Click right here and get your very own, unique and specialized Codywan Sleep Bingo 2023 card!
Wait, don’t go, I have more questions!
Feel free to send us an ask and we’ll help you out, friend!
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