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#and i just wonder how many lives ive touched
neuroticboyfriend · 1 year
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i am so glad i have fostered a following where i can make these posts that would get me metaphorically shot on sight anywhere else. we're all about radical disability advocacy over here. boot up bitch. we're making a better world one person at a time.
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abbyromanoff · 9 months
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PLEASE BRO IF YOUR DOING REQUESTS,
Can you please do yandere!possessive!gp!valkryie, where her and reader had a huge argument and reader storms out leaving Valkyrie alone. Later coming home Valkyrie rails the shit out of reader in front of a mirror because valkryie followed reader to a bar where she saw a man flirt reader (she OFC kills the dude when he reader leaves.)
PLEASE BRO IVE ASKED SO MANY PPL (no hate to anybody I've asked, I love you all 💞)
GONE, BUT NOT FOR LONG
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PAIRINGS: Valkyrie x reader
WORD COUNT: 2,821
WARNINGS: smut, Valkyrie has a dick, blowjobs, cunnilingus, killing, murder, dark!valkyrie, knives, king!valkyrie, fingering, facials, breeding, noncon, jealousy, possessiveness, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
Run. Keep running. That’s all that ran through your mind as you sped away from the large building where you used to sleep peacefully, that was until you found out the truth, until you realized your lover had been lying to you all along.
She was the king, one respected by many, if not all. Citizens trusted her with their lives yet she kept her disguise, taking away the innocence of others as she cut them short of breathing. The man didn’t deserve that, no matter what he did to annoy her, he didn’t deserve to die. He could’ve had a family, children wondering when their dad would come home, only to have him stripped away to never see again.
You always knew Valkyrie had a jealous side to her, some would even call it possessiveness. But you never thought it would go this far.
Earlier on you had planned on surprising the woman at work, hoping she’d still be in her office for lunch instead of skipping like usual. You always warned her of the health concerns that came with ignoring meals, but she never listened, stating she was often times ‘too busy to remember’. And you wished when you entered that was what greeted you, your girlfriend hunched over a pile of papers on her desk, only it was far from that.
When you entered, a small grin on your face and a container in your hands, you were greeted with the sight of Valkyrie holding a knife to a man’s neck who was begging for forgiveness. Your feet planted in your spot as you gasped, mouth falling wide open while the older woman snapped her head in your direction.
“Please-“ The man cried out behind his gag, only to have the sharp object slit his skin open, causing blood to ooze out of his rapidly until he fell limp to the floor.
“Baby? Baby, it’s alright, he was a very, very bad man, okay? He had this coming.” She tried reaching out for you, handing the blade to one of her bodyguards who took it without hesitation, the rest of them already starting to clean up the mess she made. You backed away, wincing from her near touch alone. You knew she loved you and would never hurt you, but what if that changed? What if she did hurt you someday? She often got mad when she was jealous, what if it went so far one day and she tried to hurt you?
“Don’t touch me!” Your eyes were glossed over and she gulped fearfully at the sight, she wasn’t one to be afraid or scared, but knowing she caused those tears was what scared her the most. It scared her of herself, of what she could do.
“It’s me, love, I’m not going to hurt you.” But how could you trust that? How could you trust that she’d keep you safe when she just killed an innocent person right in front of your eyes?
“Look, he- he deserved it! I had to keep you safe-“
“Don’t you dare put this on me, I am not the one who held a knife to his neck and slit his fucking throat! I don’t even know his name, for Christ's sake!” She seemed to be growing more and more agitated as you continued to ignore her words, and chose to believe your own instead. You didn’t understand, you didn’t understand the things she had to do to keep you safe.
“Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I wanted to kill him? No, but I knew he couldn’t roam free after what he did to you, what if he tried on someone else, huh? Would you let him have forgiveness then?” In all honesty, she wanted to do it. She found herself being filled with joy whenever she got to end the life of one of her victims. She had no idea what was wrong with her, she knew it wasn’t normal but she couldn’t stop, it just felt so good.
When there was no response spewing out of your mouth, she decided to take the next step and brought a single foot forward, letting her palms caress your face as she smiled, you didn’t pull away. Although, she noticed the small flinch but chose to ignore it.
“Guards,” She called for the attention of the tall men, all of them turning their heads in her direction. “Please exit the premises, and take the body with you.” They nodded and did as asked without question, you wondered if this was a normal occurrence for them.
“Awh, don’t cry, pretty girl, Daddy didn’t mean to upset you.” She pouted at your frightened expression, chuckling darkly when you sniffled.
“See the things I’d do for my little girl? I’d die for you, I’d kill for you, doesn’t that mean something?” You shook your head rapidly, trying your best to escape her grasp until she wrapped her arms tightly around your waist.
��Don’t think you’re leaving me, sweetheart.” You wiggled around hopelessly, knowing deep down there was no chance in hell you’d disobey her.
“Let me go! Please, Val, please!” She groaned, kissing the side of your neck, even when you tried to hit your head on hers as the only option left.
“Mm, I like it when you beg me, baby. Turns me on so much.” She pulled you in closer by the hips, letting you feel the growing bulge hidden beneath her suit. It stopped you in your tracks, shuddering quietly as she grinded against you.
“I know you’re mad, so why don’t you let me make it up to you, okay? Can I do that?” You shook your head with a whine, feeling your body weaken the more you wasted your energy trying to escape.
“Too bad. You have no idea how I need this, I’ve been so frustrated all week, working nonstop, don’t you want to help Daddy?” Trying to disagree took all the willpower you had left because you knew you wanted it, no matter how much you said you didn’t. You wanted her to fuck you deep and raw, showing no mercy on your weeping cunt. It was as if she could read your mind because she quickly turned you around, pressing your back against her front while her free hand ran down your stomach to your core, letting her fingers dip inside your pants.
“Don’t try and run from me, there’s nowhere you can go.” The only place you ever knew were her arms, and each time you’d come racing into them, desperate for her to have any sense of hold on you. She was captivating your mind with her as her fingers ran across your folds, collecting your slick and creating a shiny glow as she pulled them out to show you.
“I think you’ve been lying to me, sweetheart, I think you like me killing in your favor.” She grinned when you struggled to come up with a response, only shaking your head no in hopes she’d believe it. But, truthfully, you didn’t believe your lie either.
“Every lie you tell me is only going to add to your already long list of punishments. So, tell me, did you like watching me slit his throat? Is that what made you this wet? Hm?” You gave in, accepting your fate as you succumbed to the feeling of her skin rubbing onto yours.
“Yes- I fucking loved it, Val.” She slapped the side of your ass and tsked in disapproval, causing shame to rise in your chest.
“Try again.” She hummed, letting a singular digit prod gently at your hole, teasing you with her soft nature that you knew would soon be replaced by something darker.
“I loved it, Daddy..” You muttered, nearly choking on your breath as she entered you. Before you could even think, a second finger joined, causing you to whimper loudly.
“Gotta stretch you out for my cock, baby.” She stated. “I fuck you every day yet you’re still so damn tight, such a dirty slut you are.” Came her spoken words followed by a deep, hungry groan.
“Just for you, I’m your slut.” You seemed to be chasing for her approval by now, blushing from every noise that left her hot mouth. You’ve always been such a good girl for her, that’s what she adored most about you.
“That’s right. Daddy’s little slut, maybe I should mark you with it so you know just who you belong to.” In an instant you were pushed to your knees, her legs kicking the back of yours and causing you to fall as she finally removed herself from your tight hole. She looked down at you with hunger before you turned to face her, pleading with your eyes only while she stroked your cheek, her slick-covered digits seeping into your mouth as you suckled on them gently.
“Aren’t you adorable?” You nuzzled your face against her crotch where her restricted hard-on poked you. She was teasing you, she knew that.
“You want Daddy’s cock? Yeah? Of course, you do, little bitch.” You lowered her minimal clothing when given permission and gasped when noticing a small wet spot where her pre-cum had leaked. You were practically dripping when she finally freed herself of the uncomfortable gear, sighing with satisfaction as you reached forward to pull down the boxers she adorned, freeing her length to the fresh air. You instantly wrapped your hand around it, letting your lips press against the head repeatedly until you dragged your tongue up and down the skin.
“Oh- fuck! Mhm, just like that, take it, baby.” She tangled her fingers in your hair and thrusted forward while pulling you even closer, chuckling at the sound of your gags bouncing off the walls. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let her take control, moving your palms to fondle her balls.
“This is all your fault, Y/N. If you weren’t so fucking perfect, maybe I wouldn’t have had to hurt him. Maybe if you weren’t so goddamn sexy, you wouldn’t have to be choking on my dick right now.” You didn’t want it any other way, this was truly heaven.
“I’m gonna cum down your throat- shit! You’re gonna swallow it all, right?” You nodded as best as you could with her still in your mouth, watching as she threw her head back before releasing her finish, her juices reaching your tastebuds instantly. She held you in place, forcing you to keep still and follow in on your promise. Droplets tended to dribble down your chin and to your neck, but you refused to let any go to waste.
She pulled out soon after, slapping her length against your face and smothering your skin in her release. You licked your lips and tasted the sweet nectar, eliciting a moan from deep in your chest.
“Get on all fours and face the mirror.” It wasn’t a request as much as it was a demand. In her eyes, you didn’t have a choice, you were to follow her lead and trust her every move, which you found yourself doing over the course of your relationship.
“Good girl, you listen so well.” She kneeled behind you and smacked your ass with force, causing you to wince as your body reacted with only a deeper amount of pleasure.
“Daddy-“ You were cut off with a moan, biting your lip to try and stifle the sound but she still heard.
“Yes, Princess?”
“Do it again…please?” She complied, repeating her action and admiring your ass jiggled in response. She left a kiss to the burning skin and you smiled when she didn’t stop, layering each inch of your body until she reached your hole once again. Her tongue drew circles on your swollen bud before dipping inside of you. Your hands balled into tight fists as you watched your reaction through the mirror, glancing back and forth at your girlfriend's already hardened cock. It was so easy to mess with her, she would fall for anything you did and would give you anything you wanted.
“Taste so good, so perfect.” Slurping sounds came from behind you until she was bringing you to the edge, your body already overstimulated from the previous actions.
Right as you were about to sink into your orgasm, she pulled away, lining her length up with your entrance and using your wetness as a form of lube. Your breath got caught in your throat at the intrusion while her eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of your walls clamping around her tip.
“That feel good? Hm? You like it when I stretch you out just for me?” You nodded while screaming out agreements, the fear of her guards hearing you not even seeming to register like usual as you just focused on her. On how she made you feel. On how she bombarded you with overwhelming excitement by just being her.
“You fit so well around me, it’s like you were made for me.” In her mind and soul, she knew it was true. The moment she met you she knew she had to have you as her own, you were made for her as she was for you. You were hers, every part of you belonged to her and she’d never let you believe otherwise. Either you’d spend your life with her or yours would come to a short, she wouldn’t be able to live knowing you were being loved by another.
“Yes! You fuck me s-so good, I need more, please!” Your breasts bounced with each thrust she sent, now being buried deep inside of you while her pelvis smacked against your backside, creating a loud clapping sound that echoed throughout the room.
“Can’t wait to fill you up with my cum, have you leaking just so I can fuck it back into you.” The image made you shudder, goosebumps traveling down your skin. Her fingers came to wrap around your hair as she yanked hard, her other hand finding place on your waist and holding onto you with a bruising grip.
“You close, princess?”
“Mhm, so close.” You whispered, tossing your head back even further until it laid on her shoulder. Her tits were rested against your back, her swollen nipples poking your skin in a teasing manner.
“Too bad.” You were meeting her thrusts as she continued to quicken, causing you to look sloppy and weak compared to her. Her bulging biceps made way to your vision, and you nearly came just from the sight.
“Please, Daddy, I can’t stop it-“ You were close to breaking her most important rule if she kept denying you. You tried your absolute best, but that’s all you could do.
“I wanna hear you beg for it.”
“I’ll do anything, please, just let me cum. I-l promise I’ll be good- ah! I’m sorry, I c- can’t hold back, Daddy.” She whispered a singular word into your ear and gazed into your eyes through the mirror, watching as your orgasm came crashing down over you. Suddenly, you felt warm liquid releasing deep inside of you, but you were too weak to fight it.
“No-“ Whimpers washed over you before you could push her away, your body becoming limp as your legs shook.
“I’m gonna get you pregnant, baby, that way you can never leave me again.” She licked her lips and caressed your breasts with her palms, tweaking your nipples until she had you crying out.
“Now you’ll be mine forever.”
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She let you rest in the bed and when you awoke, you were greeted with nothing but silence. You assumed she was working once again, and instead of being sad, you used that to your advantage. Packing your limited amount of clothes and resources quickly into a bag you planned on leaving, escaping from her wrongful actions and beliefs, and starting a new life of your own, one that would be forced as hidden from the public.
You seemed to be able to sneak past most without them recognizing you or realizing something was wrong. Then, your engine roared as it started and you instantly took off. You hoped Valkyrie hadn’t put a chip in it with how protective she was, but you couldn’t care as you drove far away until you weren’t able to see the Asgardian City sign anymore.
You sighed in relief, thinking you were free. But you didn’t know what was going on back in the large building where your girlfriend sat, watching through the cameras she installed in her vehicle in case something like this ever happened. She smirked, already planning what she was going to do with you in her head.
“Guards,” She started, earning their full attention, “Give them some time to think their free. Then, kidnap them, mask and all. Hopefully, then they’ll see how much they need me to keep them safe.”
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scaranation · 1 year
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hi hi !! could you write an ANGST with Dottore and Zhongli where we break up with them? maybe in dottore we break up because we can't bear(?) his experiments anymore and in Zhongli one we feel not enough/that he loves someone else (maybe Guizhong?)
Gn reader or Fem!reader(if u write for fem. sorry if u do not,i couldnt find rules and im really really sorry ! :( ... )
p.s will there be To love another 3rd part? it's my fav fanfic ever !!
love your work ♡♡
hihihi i know this is like super late but this prompt is literally so good 😭 also im thinking of writing another part to that fic, but i just dont know where to take it so ive been procrastinating haha
dottore’s part is kinda ooc bcs let’s be real if he’s that whipped for reader he wouldn’t let them break up with him, but im going to pretend that he’s not as much of a red flag as he actually is 🤭🤭
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༊*·˚ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅
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Pairing: Dottore x GN!reader, Zhongli x GN!reader (separate)
Content: Angst, no comfort. Mentions of canon typical violence, assumed past Guizhong x Zhongli
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DOTTORE
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“It seems my beloved has finally thought to visit me.”
You cringed from the overpowering metallic scent as you stepped into your boyfriend’s laboratory, trying hard not to look at the borderline gruesome sights on the clinical beds.
Dottore cleaned the blood off a bone saw he was holding, setting the instrument down carefully before walking towards you - eyes lit up, but holding a gleam different to the maniacal one he usually possessed.
“How was your day, my love?” His voice was humorous. He seemed to be in a good mood, humming lightly while opening the door for you.
“It was fine.” You sighed as you felt the weight of Dottore’s harbinger coat settle across your shoulders, registering the touch of his hand as he pulled you into him and away from the Snezhnayan cold.
“Has that coworker of yours still been bothering you?”
“… Don’t try pretending.”
“Whatever could you be talking about?” The Doctor’s grip on you tightened.
“I wouldn’t wish death on anyone, even if they annoyed me to that extent.” You sighed, finally tilting your head to stare into the planes of your lover’s mask.
“Oh, they’re not dead. Rather, they’ve been subject to some biological modifications of an experimental kind - would you like to see?”
You gritted your teeth.
“I’m hungry, don’t make me lose my appetite.”
“Good thing I have a nice place booked for dinner, my love.”
His compliance was almost uncanny.
-
Normal couples gazed affectionately into each other’s eyes over meat and wine, fingers fondly interlaced over the dining table. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to return Dottore’s adoring scarlet gaze, and his hold on your hand felt more like a death trap.
“Is the food to your liking?” He asked. He hadn’t touched any of the vegetables on his plate, only biting into the steak.
“Yes. You should eat greens, too.” You commented.
“Mm. Why don’t you feed me, then?” Dottore only tilted his head, smiling eagerly. Recently, a fear of you being turned into one of the harbinger’s countless experiments had taken hold, and it was this same fear that drove you to play right how he wanted. And so, lifting your fork, you fed him with all the patience you could muster - staring into those deep red eyes, feeling like nothing more than prey. Those eyes would’ve been the last thing many others had seen before their death, the end of their lives marked by that sadistic grin. You almost shuddered at the thought.
Normal couples slept under starry nights reflected in their star crossed hearts as they cuddled close under soft sheets. Normality was such a strange concept, you decided. Despite the fact that you were doing just what normal couples should, the situation was still absurd. However, your fear of becoming another one of the harbinger’s lab rats wasn’t unfounded. You mulled over this fact, almost snorting at the juxtaposition. Here you were - wondering if the man who cradled you in his arms would strap you down to a table in the name of research.
“My love, are you still awake?” You felt Dottore’s breath ghost over your neck, his face pressing into your nape. With a rustle, he readjusted the blanket over your shoulders.
“Yeah, I can’t sleep.”
“Nightmares, perhaps? I have a pill you can use for those.”
“No, just… thinking.” You squirmed in Dottore’s hold. His comment only reignited your spiralling train of thought, pushing you further to the point of resolve.
If he could kill his clones - literal versions of himself - then what would stop him from doing the same to you? Even if you remained alive, would you have to continue to tolerate being exposed to such grotesque horrors?
It was simply better to break things off, before you no longer had the option to.
Breakfast.
The first meal of the day, and the last meal you’d share with your boyfriend.
“Dottore.”
“Yes?” The Doctor’s head jerked up immediately from where he was chewing. You could feel the undivided weight of all his attention sinking into you, and for a moment, you faltered. He was notorious for paying little mind to anyone else, and yet, he treated you with the utmost attentiveness. You steeled your resolve.
“I think… we should break up.”
Silence. Then, the grating scrape of cutlery against crockery.
“Why.”
Not a question, more of a demand. You gulped.
“Do you want me to be honest with you?”
“Yes. Is it something I did?”
“I can’t bear your experiments anymore, Dottore. They’ve gone too far, and I don’t think I can stomach living normally with you as if I don’t know the kind of things you do. Even worse, every day I’m wary that I might be your next test subject - whenever I walk into your lab, I wonder when I’ll be the one under your needles. It’s exhausting.”
Another beat of silence. You could see Dottore’s chest rising and falling at an increasingly fast pace, his jaw tensing.
“I would never, ever do that to you. It’s ridiculous that you’d even think that, and as for your prior reason… I can arrange for you to come to the lab less often…”
“So you’re just going to cover my eyes and act like you’re not doing anything with those experiments? I just can’t be ignorant here, nor can I trust you. If you can get rid of your clones so easily, then what am I? What value do I hold-“
“Those creations do not even compare to you.” Dottore finally snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. You flinched, and he felt as though his lung capacity had been halved. His head spun in tandem with the rapid tightening of his heart, his mouth twisting into a scowl.
It hurt Dottore, realising that you didn’t trust him. That all those fond, intimate memories together were just you acting out of fear - or at least, the most recent ones were. It hurt, beyond anything Dottore thought he could inflict on his patients. And even worse, you were frightened of him. The light shaking of your shoulders and the way you flinched were enough indication.
The Doctor enjoyed seeing his victims become terrified, but that same terror on you almost made him feel like he’d been the one stabbed with a scalpel. Foolishly, he’d fallen victim to his own maniacal research tendencies.
“Listen, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just meant to say… that you can trust me.” Dottore raised his hand towards you to cup your cheek, wincing when you avoided the action.
“I tried to, I really did. But I don’t think I can do it anymore.”
“My love, please.”
The second harbinger was begging. What a strange sight.
“Let me go, Dottore.” You murmured shakily. You saw hesitation, hurt, and anger flit through those vermilion eyes you’d used to love. But that love you held for him had only smouldered into disgust and fear.
“… Then go. Get out of my sight.” Dottore hissed, his teeth clenching at the wary expression on your face.
It was painful, how you walked out without a second glance.
“My love…” Dottore whispered. He stared at the closed door, almost expecting you to return. He repeated the phrase, over and over to himself - his face contorting into an expression he himself couldn’t name. Was there truly an emotion as human as this? It was a twisted, unimaginable feeling the Doctor couldn’t categorise. The syllables came off his quivering lips, as though by uttering them he could make you come back.
But the truth was, your not-so-normal relationship was over. Perhaps, Dottore would return to the normality of his heartless experiments, and you’d return to the normality of a better fate than one you’d endure by his side.
He only regretted not being able to hold you more.
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ZHONGLI
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There were only two letters between you and your lover, but those two letters seemed to stretch wider every day - ‘I’, and ‘M’. The seemingly infinite synapse between mere ‘mortal’, and ‘immortal’.
Zhongli was undeniably a mortal vessel, but he as a being was not. He’d lived eons before you, loved and hated thousands. He’d experienced things you couldn’t even fathom, and yet, you couldn’t comprehend how he treated you as though your fleeting existence was the centre of his much larger world.
Whenever you looked into Zhongli’s amber eyes, heard his deep laugh, or felt his gentle caress, you could only feel insignificant. After all, he used to be a literal god. You couldn’t help the guilt that gnawed at your conscience, couldn’t stamp out the incessant feeling that he was too good for you, that you couldn’t compare to whatever lovers he’d had in the past.
“How’s the tea, darling?” Zhongli prompted. He sat with his back to the window, basking in an almost ethereal glow.
“Ah, I have yet to try it.” You shook yourself out of your thoughts to raise the cup in front of you. Zhongli only smiled warmly, but the gesture made your hand shake a little. You’d planned to break up with him today, and yet the way he still stared lovingly at you - full of infinite trust - made you feel terrible.
But how many others had he also treated this way? In his life, those others were probably far more special than you, possessing talents far more worthy of a god’s attention.
Suddenly, a shattering sound pierced your ears, and a scalding warmth set into your thigh. You looked down in a daze, before snapping out of it upon realising that you’d dropped the teacup.
“Are you okay?” Zhongli was at your side in an instant, mopping up the spilled tea and collecting the broken fragments of the cup.
“Yeah.” You gritted your teeth again. How dare someone as insignificant as you make Rex Lapis get down on his knees to clean the mess you’d made. It simply made you feel as though you didn’t deserve such a wonderful man at all.
“You’ve been distracted lately. Is there anything I should know about?” Zhongli asked slowly.
“No. Well, yes.” You stammered. You hadn’t planned this out very well, and your heart squeezed tighter.
“Go ahead. You know you can tell me anything, darling.”
A warm hand came to rest against your cheek. You closed your eyes, feeling tears build and slip down your face.
Zhongli wiped at your tears, holding your hands in your lap as he looked up at you worriedly - his thumbs tracing comforting circles on your knuckles. He thought of saying something, before deciding against it. He knew it was better to let you speak first.
“Let’s break up.” You blurted, feeling Zhongli’s fingers come to a complete stop.
“We can work through this, tell me why first. Has something been upsetting you?”
Your tears fell harder. He still showed you so much kindness, never jumping to any conclusions.
“I feel like I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me, it makes me feel guilty that someone like me can have you.” You sobbed.
“Darling, you know it makes me happy to just spend time with you. That in itself is fair exchange, no?”
“But what makes that so special? You’ve lived for so long, you could’ve done this with anyone else, and you probably have. Who am I in comparison to someone like Guizhong?”
Through your blurred vision, you could still see Zhongli’s form kneeled by your side. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully.
“You and her are both special, in your own way. Why don’t you calm down a little first? I can pour you some more tea.”
“I’m so selfish, Zhongli. I really don’t think I can stay with you.”
“Do you really want to leave that badly?”
Your heart twisted. You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay in his warm embrace, his soft understanding gaze. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to.
“… Yes.”
“Very well then. You know I won’t stop you, because I just want what’s best for you.”
The light grip on your hands released, and as you stood up everything seemed to spin.
“Thank you… for everything.” You murmured, stealing one last glance at the man you loved - before leaving.
Zhongli remained where he was for some time. In his life, many things came to an end, but this hurt a little more. When Guizhong had left him, it was due to her passing - the youthful Rex Lapis had found someone to blame, to ventilate his grief. But the most crude fact in this situation was that you were still alive, and had chosen to leave him of your own volition. Zhongli himself had made this happen.
However, an archon’s most prized trait was impartiality. Therefore, Zhongli knew that he had to maintain indifference. He refused to let himself chase after you, or force you into anything. It was only unfair, if an immortal were to impose such a fate onto a mortal.
And so, he could only watch as you faded from his life, like the cyclic ebb of waves on an ocean shore.
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firesnap · 4 months
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i have a genuine question. i promise i am not at all trying to defend him. ive dropped him entirely, literally deleted everything i had of him and unliked his songs.
ive just been wondering like considering that he has been in therapy, and also considering how if he does take a year off and then comes back, why cant it be redeemable? like cant people change? cant we give them second chances? he is 27. is he just doomed to be an abuser forever?
its just scary and im asking as like a younger person who is in my very early 20s. i know ive made mistakes. i know ive not been a good partner or friend sometimes. (and yes i was also abusive to a past partner...im not proud of it and ive learned from it. i have never ever touched anyone in that way after that. it took awhile but my current relationship isnt toxic and i would never hurt anyone or hit them again yknow?) and it scares me that people keep insinuating that he is irredeemable. like cant abusers change and become better? dont they get second chances? if shelby has grown and healed in 10 months wouldn't it be fair to say the same for wilbur?
im just genuinely asking because based on everything i believe you are older than me and im looking for guidance and just...idk im scared. growing up on the internet has made me so scared of making mistakes and doing anything wrong because when it happens to others i look up to, its always treated as something they'll never be able to change or improve. makes me feel like imma just be a horrible person forever because i made mistakes in the past.
This is a really complicated question that multiple answers can validly fit.
I don't think, personally, that anyone is irredeemable. I think everyone is on a journey of forgiveness and some of us may need more grace than others.
This is tw// abuse even more than the current topic, but my mom was incredibly abusive. We lived in a very rural area and she had a lot of undiagnosed problems and trauma of her own that created a pressure pot of issues. After I was born, she suffered through full on post-partum psychosis that nearly ended about as well as that sentence implies it could have. She was incredibly violent, controlling, and cruel for years. My sister went no-contact with her the second she turned 18. A significant event occurred that eventually spurned her into seeking real treatment that lasted for years. It's still ongoing.
My sister is also still no contact and I support her decision 100%. Those are her wounds and what she needed to do to get peace should be respected. I decided I wanted a relationship with the person who came out of all that work and, even then, it's been hard. I don't know if she's redeemed herself, and my god do we still have bumps in the road, but I support her for trying.
With Wilbur, how he responds to this is going to really impact a lot of things. I mean, I know no matter how he responds I won't be going on whatever journey of redemption and healing he has to go through. I'm tired and I feel hurt enough. I would think, if he wanted to show he was sincere, admitting what happened would be a great sense of closure for a lot of people who put time and energy and faith into this guy for years.
Not every person that causes harm is inherently evil, but there has to be some kind of knowledge that you're aware of the harm you've caused. No one is stuck as anything forever, life is constantly moving, and most people aren't saying his life is just over. You can work on yourself. You can change. And I'm saying that specifically to you, anonymous.
(Saying this, actually, there ARE people who would argue once you've done x you're beyond redemption based entirely on their life experiences as a victim, personal histories and many other factors. Kinda like my sister, that's their choice. And you have to accept that sometimes you fuck up so badly that you will permanently lose some people from your life. But your life isn't over.)
But I do think, regardless of what he says or does about this, his time of controlling a large platform is at an end. He can still do a lot of things in his life after he works on himself -- editing, song producing, directing, writing or whatever -- but being in charge of a large impressionable audience that could enable more destructive behaviors is just not it.
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alessiamalfoyzabini · 5 months
Text
𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱
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Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader
Word Count | 2,220
Warnings | +18, Taehyung gives bad advice, Jungkook obsessed and manipulative, the protagonist increasingly confused with herself
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This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.
Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.
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⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.
If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.
She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.
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➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! Have fun with this sixth chapter, let me know what do you think! 🥰
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Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @douknowbts, @aiiselle90210, @fewercascade , @mageprincess7, @m00njinnie
Taglist is open!
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Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End
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For several days Y/N could not sit properly, to her shame she had the constant need for help from Jungkook, which each time led her to clam up. The boy applied ointment to her every night to heal her wounds, which, shortly after that abrupt sexual intercourse of theirs, had appeared even more painful than the spanking itself, Jungkook avoided externalizing his happiness every time he touched her, encircling her soft buttocks in his hands gently, because on the other hand he saw the girl's detachment and felt guilty. Y/N could not forget the pain of that punishment, just as she could not forget the sticky feeling of his cum on her face, as well as in her mouth, had been shocking and regrettable. But what really humbled the girl deep down was the fact that she had felt constant pleasure in every action of his, even the most vulgar and obscene. The moments before her orgasm replayed in her head, she had longed for it, unable to think of anything else, and god-sometimes even dreamed of it. What was happening to her? It was not normal to react like this, he was her captor and he had punished her, like some kind of rude child, she burned at reliving each moment, this forced her to distance herself even more from the young man.
On the other hand, Jungkook watched her pacing around the house like a soul in pain, and wondered if he had been right to punish her in that way. He saw the distance that, if possible, had increased since that night.
He did not feel good about her in that condition; he wanted to make it up to her, but he did not know how. He swallowed, coming to the conclusion that they had to talk somehow.
He headed to her room with that thought, knocking gently on her door.
He did not like the fact that they were still sleeping apart, but on that Y/N had been adamant. "Y/N? Can we talk for a moment?" he asked, hoping to hear her voice.
Unfortunately, the girl decided to play the silent game once again, Jungkook inhaled, "Y/N, I'm coming in," he warned her, before throwing the door wide open and crossing the threshold of the room. He aimed his gaze at the bed, there where a small bundle was pretending to sleep under the covers. He walked toward that spot, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I shouldn't have treated you that way," he said, regretfully. Yeah, he should never have treated her that way, but between his anger and lust, he had understood nothing more, hadn't masturbated since that time in the old Y/N house, having her that way had sent his self-control to the dogs. "I was angry, and you very indisposed ... I think it was a mix of everything," he whispered, embarrassed, "And you were so beautiful that ... fuck, you really don't know what you do to me," he chuckled unenthusiastically, the girl opened her eyes slightly, remaining well buried. "I'd like to apologize, promising that I won't let anger make me lose my mind anymore, not with you."
Y/N felt a strange grip around her heart; she knew what it was and gritted her teeth. She could not let herself be swayed by the part that still loved him, despite everything he had done to her. She was an incurable romantic in love with her professor, her psychopathic professor who had kidnapped her and declared eternal love for her. He was sick and she could not give in, even though her body, heart, and part of her mind convinced her that he really only wanted her good. She felt a caress on her shoulder; it was a light, quick touch, like the beating of a tiny hummingbird's wings. She said nothing and Jungkook did not dare to add anything else, just left the room in complete and heavy silence. He had failed again.
From then on things were strange, when she got up she would already find breakfast, lunch and dinner still steaming on the table, but no sign of the man. It was strange to eat alone, she was no longer used to solitude, by then it had become the norm to have another human being around the house, ready to look after her at all times. So, unknowingly she began to look for him whenever she could, around the apartment. And always with disappointment, she found that Jungkook was not there. Feeling damn lonely, she began to curse the boy. Hadn't he been the one to tell her that he would never leave her? That he was there for her? Sure, he would not leave her to starve, but Y/N felt hungry for more, it was a deeper, more intimate hunger, one that bound one person to another. A sense of forbidden need that she tried to silence, but could not.
Jungkook was not faring any better, with dark circles to rival a panda's, he threw himself headlong into his work. And he was not behind a desk in that case. He finished just then violently severing a man's carotid artery, blood splattered on his clothes and face, watched with a frown as the man's body trembled and slumped to the ground in mute pain, threw the knife next to the body and shouted angrily inside the warehouse. "You've doubled the load of your work and now you're risking an alarming nervous breakdown, what the hell is wrong with you, 'Kook?" the young man turned sharply toward his friend, Taehyung stared in disgust at the corpse on the ground, "Why are you looking at me like that? Namjoon had said 'clean job,' this looks like a massacre to me." Jungkook grabbed a towel from the cabinet in the corner of the room, dabbing the sweat and blood from his face, "He deserved it, do you know how many girls in our brothel he killed for his disgusting sex games?"
"I know, I analyzed the investigation request Namjoon sent us, but that doesn't take away from the fact that reducing it like this was not in the plans, now how do we pass off the murder of a wealthy Hispanic arms dealer as an accident?" he ironized, Jungkook in response kicked the corpse, as if to emphasize the fact that he couldn't give a damn. "You have piranhas yourself, don't you? Solution found," he tossed his now unusable shirt into a black envelope; he could not go home in that condition, it would definitely break down the precarious relationship that bound him to Y/N. Fortunately there was also a shower in that warehouse, he really could not risk coming back like that, he looked like something out of a splatter movie and the girl did not know his second - and definitely more illegal - job. "Things aren't going well with the girlfriend, huh?" his friend taunted him, earning a dirty look.
"More like they just don't go," he sat wearily on the ground, hiding his head in his arms as he did as a child.
Taehyung immediately regretted mentioning the topic, "Hey, Jungkook...it just takes time, each one has a different way of reacting," he tried to explain, although he could not say he understood it one hundred percent, his girlfriend already loved him before she started a serious relationship with him, he had not experienced the same wars as Seokjin and Jungkook, or worse, Jimin. He recalled with a shudder the girl who was now talking carefree with them, had discovered Jimin's arsenal and had taken the opportunity to stab him on the back and escape. Where Jimin had found the strength to chase and tackle her, Taehyung still could not explain. "It's different Taehyung, I don't have what you call an 'iron fist' with her, if she rejects me I suffer and feel bad, I feel like I'm going crazy." "Then you reject her!" exclaimed the other harshly, "You live together and you are practically the only human she can relate to, if you stop talking to her, paying attention to her or seeing her, she will wonder why, and she will come after you!" He stared at Taehyung with a strange expression, mulling over those words. Perhaps his friend was right, perhaps he had been too helpful and this had been taken as a sign of weakness on the girl's part. He nodded, already knowing what to do.
Y/N heard keys turn in the keyhole and the front door open, she widened her eyes to see that Jungkook had finally come home on time. She had not seen him for days and was beginning to worry. Yes, she was worrying about him. And it was absurd, how unnatural, but it was indeed so. Y/N got up from the couch, that same couch where that painful punishment had been carried out, followed shortly after by the sinful act, and went to meet the boy. She reached him in time to see him take off his jacket, his distraught face leaving her interjected for a moment. "Jungkook!" she said, watching him minutely. His wavy hair was damp and let free to go where it pleased, a thick sweatshirt covered his statuesque physique, and a jumpsuit and boots completed the outfit. For the umpteenth time Y/N actually felt small in front of the man, especially when his gaze fluttered over her briefly, without answering her. He passed her in two strides, locking himself in his room without saying a single word.
This made the girl freeze on the spot, and she did not understand the reason behind his actions. Jungkook had gotten angry a few times, but he was almost always sunny and sweet in her presence; that coldness was something new, something the girl did not want to get used to. She walked slowly in the direction of the boy's bedroom, knocked shyly twice, but received no answer. Her arm fell back along her side, she felt lonely. She felt even more lonely when, at dinner, Jungkook remained with his eyes glued to his smartphone, she swallowed a bitter pill when, trying to engage in a discussion, she asked him, "How are things going at the university? You've been working a lot lately..." and Jungkook replied with a quick shrug. She lost what little appetite she had left, but forced herself to finish, fearfully remembering rule number two, which is to finish her meals like a good girl. She finished her dinner sadly, Jungkook silently picked up the plates and cutlery, putting them to wash in the dishwasher, then without another word he locked himself in his room. He still did everyday things, but with a strange and cold attitude. It went on like this for two weeks, Jungkook always leaving before she woke up, and although present in the house, there seemed to be no one to talk to. Y/N was going crazy.
She wanted Jungkook's attention, she wanted the boy to come back for her, but she did not know how to tell him without making a bad impression. She felt so lonely, and she had to admit it, the boy's love-struck side of herself was bleeding, with moist eyes she continued to watch the television, venting those tears she otherwise would have tried not to shed out of shame. She missed Jungkook. What she did not know was that the situation was generating not one but two victims. Jungkook missed Y/N, he missed her like fresh morning air or like the wind in his hair, everything about Jungkook wanted to push him to give in, to come back to her with a thousand and more kisses to give her and demand for himself, but Taehyung's words were firmly rooted in Jungkook's head. The girl had to understand the importance of having him around, otherwise the dynamics between them would never change. She would continue to see him as a jailer, he as an untouchable girl. It wasn't fair; he wanted a relationship, not a constant tug of war. So he kept coming home later and later, of course leaving her meals to eat, that would never change, but he wanted her to finally decide to run into his arms.
Two days later, Y/N lying in her bed could not get to sleep. Jungkook still had not returned and she wondered what he was doing and who he was with, especially that last question was nagging her. There had to be a valid reason behind his detachment so suddenly, and the thought of another woman had made its way into her mind several times already, the more time passed, the more the thought grew, until it had made it impossible for her to rest well at night for some time now. A strange feeling was roaring in her chest, one she had never felt before, never had a reason to feel it, and now it was disturbing her like few things in the world. Jealousy. Yes, she was rotten jealous. The image of Jungkook kissing or fucking a woman who was not her was corroding her from the inside out. She would have given every pittance to know the truth, but then what would she have done? Would she have survived such pain? She pulled up her nose and only then, in complete silence, did she hear the door open and footsteps make their way through the house.
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year
Note
For the requests: Steve has a good relationship with his parents & when they come back from wherever & someone (Nancy/Robin) tells them about the UD & his parents react by calling out every single adult involved. Maybe he got badly hurt, & they were called in & upon finding out they call out Joyce, Hop, Owens & Murray for the way no adult inthese kids lives had any clue about what their kids were going through. Nor were their parents given notice esp bc having underaged kids sign NDAs is not legal nor legally binfing (Maybe all the parents of the party kids are there and get all the info just like the Harrington's)
MY DARLING! LIGHT OF MY LIFE! HONESTLY this one hit different. You know how much I love making Steve suffer and when he has good parents, a lot of his suffering disappears. But it was nice to branch out a bit. Also finally some common sense! KIDS SHOULD NEVER BE SIGNING AN NDA THEMS THE FACTS! Steve's parents are here to fight for everyone so WELCOME TO THE CHAOS OF STEVE'S OVERPROTECTIVE LAWYER PARENTS! - Mickala ❤️
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Steve Harrington had managed to avoid the hospital for years. Not because he shouldn’t have gone, but because he refused to go.
But this time, he was unconscious, which means he didn’t have a choice.
And now, staring at his parents’ shocked and appalled faces next to his bed, he realized he wished he’d just died, actually.
“This happens…often?” Anne Harrington asked Dr. Owens, who looked like he wished he was also dead.
“It does happen more often than we like. But it appears to be fixed now! Steven has been a wonderful asset to us, which is why we want to make sure he is comfortable and all his medical expenses are paid.”
He handled that well, Steve thought.
“And this is the first time anyone has bothered to call us?” Richard Harrington asked much too quietly.
That was his ‘I’m about to lose my shit’ voice and Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with it.
“I do apologize, we had to deal with enough NDAs as it is,” Dr. Owens replied, not realizing that he was speaking to two lawyers who were about to ruin his life.
Steve let his head rest against the pillow of the hospital bed, sighing.
“At what age did Steve sign his first NDA?”
“I believe he was 16.”
“And did he have a lawyer present?” Anne didn’t wait for a response before continuing. “I can tell you he didn’t. We’re his lawyers and we were not even called. Are you the one in charge of this shitshow?”
It wasn’t often Anne Harrington said a curse word. Steve only ever heard it a handful of times, usually after hanging up with a client who would lose their case.
“I am one of the people who is tasked with this, yes. But if you don’t mind, I need to check in with a few people before I can truly devote time to this conversation.”
“Oh, please. Continue on with your day. Don’t mind us sitting next to our son in the hospital.”
Dr. Owens sighed, knowing this fight was barely even starting, and left the room.
Steve’s parents turned to him.
“How many concussions have you had?”
“Why didn’t you call us?���
“Who else knows about this?”
“Will this happen again?”
The questions were too much, and Steve’s head was pounding. He couldn’t do this right now.
“Hopper.”
“Jim Hopper? I thought he died.”
Admittedly, his parents had been out of town for a while. They didn’t know Hopper was back as of a few months ago, and probably didn’t realize he’d taken over as chief again.
“He didn’t. He’s around here somewhere.”
“He knew about all this?”
“Mom, I love you, but my head is splitting down the middle. I need to stop talking.”
Anne slowly brushed her hand through his hair, planting a kiss on his forehead.
“Of course, honey. We’ll be back soon. Do not sign anything without us here, okay?”
“Okay.”
His dad briefly touched his shoulder before they both left the room.
Finally, some peace and quiet.
Until he was woken up by yelling.
Not just any yelling. Richard Harrington yelling.
If he wasn’t chained to the bed by an IV and blood transfusion bag, he would be up and in the hallway.
Apparently, he didn’t need to worry, though.
His mom came into the room, leaving the door open to the hallway so he could hear everything.
“I’m glad you’re awake, honey. We have a lot to talk about.”
“Who is he yelling at?”
“Every adult who didn’t bother to take care of you the way they should. Not just you, but all of these kids,” she said, tone more annoyed by the second.
“I don’t understand.”
“Honey, you’ve been protecting these kids in ways you never should have had to. All these adults who were involved never told any of us what was going on. They let you keep standing in the line of fire, getting hurt, seeing things you shouldn’t have to and never even bothered to call us. You signed NDAs with the government without parents or lawyers present. That alone is illegal, do you understand that?”
“So I’m in trouble?”
“Oh, honey, no. You’re not in trouble. Your dad’s having a few words with the chief and Dr. Owens.”
Steve tuned in to what was being said in the hall.
“I cannot fathom what you’ve done. Expecting these children to save this town, the world, and not even have their own parents know? Who are they supposed to turn to? You? And what have you done to help them? As far as I’m concerned, you should be arrested and imprisoned. If I have anything to say about it, you will!”
“Mom, can you please get him to stop? I know he’s upset, but Hop really protected us a lot, okay? And Dr. Owens was just doing his job.”
“A lot of people have just been doing their jobs instead of considering that maybe children shouldn’t be responsible for defeating actual monsters.”
Well. Yeah, she did have a point there.
“Where is everyone?”
Anne sat on the edge of his bed, holding his hand, running her thumb along the back of it.
“The Munson boy is in the room next door, he’ll be okay. Robin is home with her parents. Most of the kids are now with their parents, but that Sinclair boy is still being watched for concussion symptoms.”
Steve sighed with relief.
No one was lost. Everyone had pretty minor injuries. Maybe he was able to protect everyone.
“That Dustin boy is relentless,” Anne said with a smile. “He really looks up to you.”
“Yeah, he’s like a brother to me.”
“His mom didn’t know about any of this either, did she?”
Steve thought about it.
Honestly, she probably had some idea. Maybe not of the real details, but she had to know Dustin was involved in something he couldn’t talk about. Same with most of the parents.
But Steve’s parents were gone a lot. Their main office was in Boston, and they would often have to travel around the country for their clients. He was used to not seeing them, only getting to talk to them on the phone once or twice a week.
It’s easy to hide shit over the phone, and when they did manage to make it home, the Upside Down monsters were safely tucked away underground.
They had no way of knowing anything was wrong. He did it on purpose, just like all of the kids did.
Even without signing the NDAs, he’s pretty sure they wouldn’t have told their parents.
“I think we just thought we were protecting you guys.”
“Honey, it’s not your job to protect us. It’s our job to protect you.”
She looked so sad.
Steve didn’t want her to be sad.
“Mom, you couldn’t have done anything. And we’re all safe.”
His dad walked in the room, face red. He closed the door behind him and ran his hand over his face.
“Doctor said Steve can go when the nurse comes to disconnect him from everything soon,” he said, coming to sit in the chair by his bed.
“That’s good news. We’ll get you home and settled. We canceled our flight out so we can stick around for a while and make sure you’re okay,” Anne said with a smile.
“You guys don’t have to cancel your trip. Your clients need you.”
“Not as much as you need us, son,” Richard said, giving him a soft smile.
“I’ve handled it before, though.”
“And you shouldn’t have. Trust me, this town, the government, they’ve got a shit storm coming and I’m leading it,” his dad huffed.
A knock interrupted Steve’s response, the door opening slightly before they answered.
Eddie.
“Steve? You okay?”
Steve’s parents looked at the door, then back at Steve, who was doing his best to hide the fond smile on his face.
It wasn’t working though, not when he saw the way Eddie was trying to take inventory of his injuries from across the room.
“You can come in, Eds.”
“Who’s this, honey?” Anne asked.
“This is Eddie.”
“Oh! You poor thing. I heard all about what you’ve been through. Let me just say, if we had caught wind of it earlier and knew you were Steve’s friend, we would’ve been representing you in court,” Anne rushed to say, her hands fluttering over Eddie’s when he got next to the bed.
Eddie’s wide eyes would have been amusing if Steve didn’t worry that he might run for the hills at the care his parents showed.
“Uh. Thank you?”
“Do you need anything right now? Do your parents need anything?” Richard asked, sitting forward in his chair, business face on.
“Um, just me and my uncle, but no. I’m heading home, but wanted to check on Steve before I go.”
“Of course! You guys are close friends?”
It was an innocent question. His parents just liked to know who was in his life, that’s all. But Eddie looked at him with panic written all over his face.
Steve gave him a small smile, then turned to his parents.
“Actually, he’s my boyfriend.”
They were quiet for a moment, which Steve expected. No matter how well he thought they’d take it, he knew it would be a shock.
But his parents didn’t let him down.
“How long have you been together, Steve?”
“Since March. Four months?” He watched as Eddie started to back away, probably expecting the worst.
Anne smacked Steve’s arm, forgetting for a moment that he was in the hospital for a reason.
“Sorry,” she said before crossing her arms. “You’ve had a boyfriend for four months and didn’t tell us? We could have come back and arranged dinner to meet him. I’m so sorry our son is rude, Eddie. He wasn’t raised that way, I assure you.”
Eddie’s jaw dropped.
“Um. What’s happening right now?”
“We’ll be home for a while to make sure Steve is alright. We’d love to have you over for dinner soon. With your uncle if you’d like,” Richard added as Eddie just stared between them.
“What do you like? I just got a new cookbook that has so many European dishes I want to try. Are you a fan of Polish food? You know what, no, what about Greek? We haven’t had good Greek food in so long.”
Steve was laughing, he couldn’t help it.
“Steve, what the hell is going on here?”
“Eddie, that’s my mom, Anne, and my dad, Richard. They’re kind of the best, and apparently they want you and Wayne to come for dinner. Think you can find time in your schedule?”
“Uh.”
“Oh dear. Do you have a concussion? They should monitor you kids better,” Anne worried, moving her hands up to cup his cheeks and look in his eyes. “Should I get a nurse?”
“No, mom, he’s okay. He just expected you two to freak out.”
“About what?”
“The fact he’s a man.”
“Oh! I do suppose that’s a reasonable concern.”
“Eddie, let me ask you this: do you make Steve happy?” Richard asked.
“I think so.”
“And he makes you happy?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then it sounds like we have no reason to be upset. Now, dinner? Maybe tomorrow night?”
“Okay.”
Steve laughed loudly.
“Eds, come here,” Steve gestured for him to come closer.
Eddie moved next to the bed, his arm bandaged, and a new cut with stitches in it on his forehead.
“Closer.”
Eddie leaned in.
Steve leaned up and kissed his lips. Just a quick peck, just enough to get the point across that this was really okay and really happening.
“Tomorrow at 6?” Steve asked before he pulled away completely.
Eddie nodded.
“And please bring your uncle, we need to discuss our plan for a lawsuit on behalf of all of you,” Richard spoke up from his chair.
“Oh. Yes, sir.” Eddie pulled away from the bed, nervously playing with his rings.
“Richard is fine, son.”
Eddie was blushing, which Steve was absolutely going to make fun of him for later.
“See you tomorrow, then?” Eddie asked awkwardly.
“Love you, Eds.”
“Oh. Uh. Yep. Love you too, Stevie.”
He raced out of the room, leaving Steve and Anne laughing quietly.
“Poor boy. Didn’t know what to do, did he?”
“No, I think he isn’t used to a positive reaction when people find out about him.”
“His uncle knows about you two, though, right?”
“Yeah, Wayne’s been great.”
“Good. Well, I’m going to find a nurse so we can go home. You should be comfortable in your own bed.”
“And I am going to make a quick call to my buddy in Chicago to see if he can pull some information on this Owens guy. We have a lot of work to do.”
Steve was used to this. For some kids, maybe this wasn’t good parenting. Maybe his parents being gone for a lot of his life had a negative impact.
But Steve never doubted how much they loved him. They still came home for every birthday, every Christmas. They still managed to take a family vacation every year. They gave him everything he needed and most of what he wanted. They supported him through everything, the proof right here in front of him now.
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ceddar-cheez · 10 months
Text
Ok I have a minor gripe about Gale’s big romance night. Absolute spoilers because I’m just gunna brain vomit. I love this nerdy wizard a lil too much
So! I’m kinda peeved about how the choice to indulge Gale in magic sex has a lot more detail and effort than wanting to connect with him as a mortal in mortal flesh. You don’t even get naked when you choose mortal sex. It’s so disappointing because it feels like I made ‘the lame choice’ that they didn’t bother finishing and that undermines a big theme in his romance (or how I’m playing it)
I rolled a Barbie Bard so “love your true self!” is like central to the role play. So of course Barbie pushes that she loves him for his personality and not impressive tricks. But then if you go that route Gale is like ‘eh well if you wanna do it the old way then sure’. Like no no no Gale this is can be just as sensual as the other stuff… if not more really. The point is to empty your mind and be present in every part of your body. I used to overthink during sex (ADHD related) and it became a whole other level when I got out of my head. And like what is that magic sex if not Gale thinking reeeeaally hard?
Really I think the astral projection sex isn’t as amazing as he hypes it up to be. I mean just think, he says he hadn’t been with a mortal since being with Mystra and that relationship lasted a while (for how I interpreted it). I don’t think he’s had sex in his body in a long time. Cause Mystra doesn’t have a body, the astral sex would be fulfilling, but for Gale I can’t help noticing he left something behind
Himself
His whole body
That thing that feels touch and heat and pain
I think this illustrates what I think it feels like:
A tiktok woman (StruggleCare) was in labor and it was long and rough. She was in the hospital hooked up to an IV that was keeping her hydrated but she wasn’t allowed to eat or drink anything in case they needed to do an emergency c-section. Her body was hydrated, but after so many hours she was begging for water to get rid of her awful thirst. Something about the experience of feeling water in your mouth is important to tell your brain it’s not in danger. (They did give her water and her birth went fine, just in case you wondered how this particular tale ended)
I feel like Gale’s “ascended” sex is like that IV. He’s been parched for so long that he doesn’t notice the thirst.
But here comes Barbie Bard and this man tripping over himself saying how he likes her musk. In the shadowlands he stops you to make a comment about how hot you look fighting and sweating.
Mystra doesn’t have a musk. Nor does she sweat.
So really the question is… when was the last time he was actually touched more than on the hands? I wanted to see that touched-starved desperation. I just love the idea Barbie Bard took a man with his head in the stars and fucked him back to his own humanity.
Very Hozier if I do say so. I like the theme of finding salvation in human after being failed by a god with unobtainable expectations. (Mystra and God god aren’t 1-to-1 so not perfect fit)
Anyway I don’t know where I’m going with this except I guess it’s time to bust out Procreate. I wanna hear other’s thoughts on this too
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arzuera · 2 years
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Conner isn't a clone of Luther and Superman,but Danny phantom and Superman.
Phantom looked at the monitor in the med bay dumbstruck. Several other leaguers were in the same situation. How could this have happened? WHEN did it happen? Sure during the early years of crime fighting, Danny hadn’t been the best at keeping his blood in his body but he had grown by leaps and bounds since then. With GIW and his parents trying to figure out how to take him out, it had become instinctual to make sure that he didn’t leave much of a trace wherever he went. Yet, somehow it had been leaked.
And to Lex Luthor no less.
“I don’t understand. Phantom wasn’t even a part of the league when the Cadmus project was in operation. So how could this be?!” Flash stated as his eyes scanned the results over and over but they remained the same.
“I’m… I’m just as confused as you are.” Danny admitted still feeling overwhelmed by this new information. When Cadmus was in operation he had finally appointed as the King of the Infinite Realms at the age of 21. He didn’t join the Justice League until a little over a year later when some idiotic cultists had thought it was a good idea to try and merge the death realm with the living. Now, going into his second year with the League, Danny was finding out he had been cloned.
Again.
Batman grunted as he leaned back in his chair. “The results don’t lie. I’ve run them about ten times and it has all come up the same. The records on Cadmus had stated that Superman and Lex Luthor were the donors in creating Connor. However, Phantom’s DNA is a perfect match.”
The halfa looked to the teenager who was lying on a bed in the other room unconscious. While out on a mission, Superboy had taken several nasty hits and was severely injured. He had needed a blood transfusion and the poor kid had a horrible reaction when Manhunter tried to use an IV of Luthor’s blood which was supposed to have been a match. (Superman donated his blood as needed. It's not that he didn’t want to help but it was really hard for him to give blood with his body the way it was. Most needles just bent out of shape when they tried to pierce the skin.) It was touch and go but it appeared that Danny’s was a perfect match in more ways than one. Phantom pulled out his cell phone and started texting Jazz. She was not going to believe this.
“Phantom, what are you doing?” Batman asked when he saw him pull the device out.
“Texting my sister.”
Flash, finally, peeled his eyes away from the monitor. “Why?”
“Because, apparently, I have a long lost son who I didn’t even know about and she is going to flip that Superboy is her nephew,” Danny responded with a smirk. He wished he could have delivered the news in person. Oh! He also needed to get a hold of his other sister. Dani was going to be so excited to learn that she was no longer the only clone in the family.
Thoughts were swirling inside of his head. Conner currently lived at the base of the Young Justice team. Mainly because he didn’t have anywhere to go. Would the boy mind if he took him home with him? His castle in the Ghost Zone was massive and a lot of the rooms were unoccupied. Conner could pick as many of the rooms as he wanted for all he cared. So long as he was happy. Danny’s apartment was a lot smaller but he could probably upgrade so that Conner could have his own space. Money wasn’t really an issue anymore. It would probably do wonders for the teen’s mindset if he had a proper home to come back to instead of the reminder that the one person who was supposed to care about him didn’t.
“You are taking this awfully well,” Batman said as a statement but Danny could feel the questioning gaze of the bat when he put his phone away. “I would have thought you would be mad.”
“Oh, I’m livid all right.” Phantom replied and what he said was true. “I just found out today that I have a son because the boy was put into the hospital due to the severity of his injuries and he had existed for at least two years in this world without my knowledge. Two years that were filled with an unprecedented amount of physical, emotional, and mental trauma as he tries to figure himself out and separate his identity from the man who is supposed to be his other father and mentor. Only for that man to have treated him as an abomination for existing in the first place.” The room temperature dropped to the point that the breath of the other Leaguers showed. “To be honest, I had already low-key adopted him because of that fact but now that I know I’m related there are going to be some changes.”
Flash and Batman exchanged a look seeing the green eyes of the ghost king flare for a few moments before settling into a soft pulse. Both were thankful that Superman was off-world, at the moment. Clark would have probably said something that would have set the man off if he had been there for the startling revelation. Superman cared about Conner. He did but he was having a hard time overlooking the fact that he was cloned without his consent. So Conner’s life was basically denied by the one person he wanted to be acknowledged the most.
Superman would have to be told before he came back so that he would be prepared for when Phantom was going to come at him. Hopefully, enough time will have passed so that Phantom will have calmed down and had a chance to figure out what he wanted to say. Regardless, it wasn’t going to be a fun conversation. For now, Batman nodded to the halfa and turned back to the monitor. “Why don’t you go check on Conner? He should be waking up soon and this news might be what he needs to hear.”
“Maybe he won’t see himself as a villain anymore because he shared DNA with one.” Danny nodded and flew into the teen’s room trying to think of a good way to tell him. How was he going to react? What was he going to say? Would he accept Danny as a father? It didn’t have to be a father role right away, maybe even a cousin or brother. Whatever the boy felt most comfortable with. After all, it didn’t matter what Conner picked in the end because he was family.
And he would never be fighting through things alone again.
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aziraphales-library · 5 months
Note
Hi!!!!! I just got into good omens and this hyperfixation is going ABSOLUTELY BONKERS. Ive been reading so many fics from yall thank u ❤️❤️ i was wondering if u could req some lesbian/wlw aziraphale ? :P
Hello! You can check out our #ineffable wives tag for fics already recommended. Here are some more to add...
wanna witness your eyes looking by izzyhandsgf (E)
"How could someone so unbearably holy commit such sins in the most beautiful way?" ----------------------------- Or, Aziraphale and Crowley meet in the 1930s, fem-presenting, and both are slightly overcome by their feelings for one another...
I stretch out the time (and now I know why) by Nix_Nihili (T)
I should pull back, Crowley thought. She should pull back because she was the one with the fork in her mouth that Aziraphale was holding. Aziraphale wouldn’t pull back because that would be rude so Crowley had to pull back. Pull back. Crowley swallowed the cake down and pushed herself away because that was what she did. Push and pull. Six thousand years of pushing and pulling. God, did it ever end? - Crowley finds Aziraphale on a fateful night for the first time since 1941. They haven't seen each other since but something has changed in the past two decades. or Something definitely happened between 1941 and 1967 to warrant the "You go too fast for me, Crowley" comment.
“I thought that I was getting better.” | Setbacks by die_traumerei (T)
Aziraphale is already having a rough time of it, when her new neighbour Crowley's cats trip her up and the inevitable happens. She and Crowley becomes friends, though, and more than friends -- and a good thing too, as Aziraphale faces one setback after another.
Herefordshire Pomona by Eigon (T)
I was reading Bleating Hearts by HKBlack (which is excellent, btw) and also thinking about the advice to "write what you know", so I started daydreaming about how the goat farmer meets literature professor scenario would transfer to Herefordshire. Aziraphale was easy - a bookseller in Hay-on-Wye, the Town of Books. I've put her shop where Green Ink Books is now, which used to be a multi-level shop, with a flat above. Crowley - well, that became obvious pretty quickly, too - instead of goats, apples. Herefordshire has a lot of old orchards, and I used to know a lady from the Marcher Apple Network, which identifies old apple varieties, and works to preserve them. And I wanted it to be Ineffable Wives, because I had so much fun writing the Old West story Secret Friendship (which is a boring name, but I couldn't think up a better one).
strange workings of fate by skyflyerr (E)
Aziraphale sat down gently and let her feet that didn’t quite touch the floor dangle from the stool. “Would you spare enough time for one glass with me?” Aziraphale watched her turn and look a little taken aback at the notion of her being here. Maybe this was a bad idea. “With you, darling? I can make the time. I’m a woman of my word, if anything.” *** Crowley is a bartender and Aziraphale is still figuring out the bookshop. Both are utterly lonely and winter is coming quick. Maybe they could keep each other warm.
Dance Me to the End of Love by Black_Bentley (E)
In general, Crowley would very much like to see the ones who hurt her grovelling at her feet, experiencing her pain and fear. But Lucifer’s plan is... well, it far surpasses what she considers ‘getting a revenge’ falling wildly into wreaking complete havoc and destroying innocent lives as collateral damage. Most importantly, that puts her dearest friend in danger. And she is to bring the proverbial cuckoo into the Celestial nest. OR: Aziraphale is a ballet dancer for the British Celestial Ballet Company, which grooms its perfect 'angels' from childhood Crowley used to dance for them too, but after they literally kicked her out, she took on pole-dancing for the Nine Circles of Hell Nightclub Its owner, who used to be the Celestial Ballet's star, is ready to take his revenge on the company's Director (referred to by its 'angels' as Mother) and chooses Crowley to enact it by forcing her to deal a brand new drug among the ballet dancers.
- Mod D
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danaewrites · 3 months
Text
Helmet Over Heels
part ii: metal man with a backup plan
din djarin x reader // read it on AO3
word count: 6.4k
summary:  When your path literally collides with a beskar-covered Mandalorian one night, neither of you expect how that meeting will irreversibly change the trajectory of your lives. 
You’re pulled into his powerful orbit, agreeing to take care of his son in exchange for adventure and freedom– when he’s not off hunting bounties and inadvertently saving villages in need, that is. It’s the perfect plan. Or it would be, if only your quiet crush on the man would stop growing into something more with every hour you spend together. There’s no way he’d ever feel the same, right?
And Din? Well, he’s been trying (and failing) to convince himself that he’s not completely helmet over heels for you since day one. But a Mandalorian can only repress his emotions for so long…
(This fic takes place sometime after Season 2. Din’s back on his bounty-hunting business with a Razor Crest that was never destroyed and an adorable green sidekick who won’t stop chewing on its wires.)
tags: strangers to friends to lovers, slow-ish burn, nicknames, touch-starved din djarin and fem!reader, canon-compliant through season 2 and then Jesus takes the wheel :P
author's notes:
i think this fic set a writing record for me lol (10.2k words in two weeks? with a regular posting schedule?! unheard of!) many more chapters to come... i have so much planned for these two <3
read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii, part iv, part v coming soon!
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You didn’t see the Mandalorian again for weeks.
You weren’t missing him, exactly. Sure, the droning noise of your coworkers’ voices seemed just a bit more dull in comparison to the baby’s sweet giggles, and Maker knew none of your regulars were ever up for lively banter, but rule number one in this galaxy was to never get too attached. Especially to mysterious strangers who left quicker than you could say ‘mudscuffer’ and more likely than not would stay gone. Despite knowing that, your foolish imagination hadn’t received the memo, and you kept finding yourself wondering what the beskar-plated man and his tiny son were doing somewhere out there in space. His ship must have been fixed, since you hadn’t seen any unfamiliar spacecraft when you strolled past Sanna’s shop the other day. In a temporary moment of weakness, you wished you knew what it looked like so you could casually fish for information about it from off-planet travelers at the cantina. Then again, asking questions could bring unwanted attention to the odd pair, so perhaps it was better for all of you that your curiosities remained unsolved. 
You’d woken up the morning after the storm to an empty cantina with every doorway blocked by two metres of snow. You weren’t sure how he’d managed to get out without disturbing the squeaky hinges of the shutters, but the Mandalorian had left the place completely untouched except for the bag of credits–far heavier than you deserved– on the bar. Your eyes had widened to the size of the two empty soup bowls next to it when you counted how much was in the pouch. Kriff, what sort of cosmic royalty was he, with this much money to spare on a cantina waitress? You remembered the bright glint of his armor in the moonlight, belatedly recognizing the characteristic sign of pure-cast metal. Beskar alloys were far from cheap, but pure beskar? If you had so much as a thimble-sized piece of it, you could afford passage off this planet fifteen times over. You huffed out a breath, shaking your head with a tiny smile. Well, that meant that he definitely still had enough saved to take care of the kid after his not-so-small gift, so you grudgingly allowed yourself to enjoy having a few extra credits for once.
The credits he’d left you weren’t enough to buy a ride off-world, but they’d pay for this month’s heating bill and a nicer set of clothes while you put the rest of your paycheck towards a future ticket. The extra money emboldened you to go shopping for the first time since you arrived on Nath– which was why you were currently weaving through the narrow streets of the Solstice Market, hoping to find a decent textile shop amongst the booths that lined this alley. You brushed past the promenade of young couples holding hands despite the cold (as well as significantly more haggard-looking spouses holding pouty children), awed by how the bright colours and loud haggling around you seemed to brighten Nath’s dreary atmosphere for a moment.
Your steps slowed to an abrupt stop as you heard a quiet chiming coming from your left. You turned to see a pocket-sized holospeaker sitting on a rickety display table, shaped like a mildly deformed egg and covered in twisting silver filigree. The booth worker looked hopeful as you eyed the far more impressive–and expensive–metalworks arranged in front of the small item, but quickly slumped back to dazed boredom as your fingers traced the rounded object instead. The speaker was dented and each note vibrated for slightly too long, but the melody it produced reminded you of the Odalian lullabies your mother had sung to you as a child. Stars, you hadn’t realized how much you’d missed her voice, soothing you with ballads of true love and tragedy until you fell asleep with the stories etched into your dreams. You blinked back the water that threatened to fill your eyes as you hummed along to the soft music, love and grief welling up between your ribs with a gentle ache. 
That was how the Mandalorian found you– eyes half-closed, your head gently bent toward the tiny instrument. You were so lost in your memories that you didn’t register his awkward presence until a tiny green hand poked your side. You gasped, instincts learned from years of working in a rowdy cantina kicking in as you reflexively threw a punch at the offending party. The Mandalorian immediately shifted to shield the giggling child, a move that was good for the kid’s health but rather unfortunate for your knuckles. 
“Kriff, metal man, you could’ve said something,” you wheezed out, rubbing your throbbing hand where it’d met unforgiving beskar. The kid gurgled happily up at you from his position in the bag. Apparently, your newest injury was the most amusing thing he’d seen all day. 
You pouted exaggeratedly at him, reaching to ruffle the wiry hair that floated above his floppy ears with affection. “Sorry about that, bug. Didn’t think I’d see you again,” you spoke softly, giving his very shiny father a subtle once-over in the daylight. The Mandalorian was taller and broader than you’d remembered from that dark night in the cantina– something that definitely did not cause your stomach to twist with interest. His armor appeared to have been polished sometime recently, and you stole a moment to admire the pride with which he wore the gleaming beskar. The effort he’d put in to maintain the parts of his appearance that were visible to the outside world was obvious (and strangely attractive, if you were being honest.) You briefly wondered whether he was as well-kept underneath the armor, but realized your mistake when that question brought a whole host of dangerous ideas to mind. Stars, why did you continually do this to yourself? You immediately shoved any daydreams of what he might look like behind that helmet somewhere far, far away lest a traitorous flush reappear on your cheeks. 
“I need to talk to you,” the Mandalorian in question stated, distracting you from your quickly-spiraling thoughts. You glanced up at him inquisitively but allowed him to steer you away from the busy crowds. 
“Nice to see you, too,” you grumbled once you had reached a reasonable distance away from the market. “What happened to hello, how are you, sorry I left and didn’t even leave a note saying how I got past the shutter locks.”
The Mandalorian turned to face you, cocking his head. “I left you the credits, didn’t I?”
You opened your mouth, retort poised on the tip of your tongue, but then thought better of it. Probably not a good idea to risk the generosity that brought you to this market in the first place. “Okay, you win that one.” 
The Mandalorian ignored your rare moment of surrender, rolling his shoulders back and stepping closer to you in a fluid movement that had more of an effect on you than you wanted to admit. “I need you to look after the kid.”
O-kayy then. Straight to business. 
“I have a job here, I can’t take him with me– it's too dangerous.” 
“A job?” Your brows furrowed as you considered what work he could possibly be doing here. People here either worked in the ice fishing huts or in one of Nath’s many depressingly ugly oil processing factories, and neither of those occupations seemed right for the intimidating man in front of you. You crossed your arms, only partially teasing. “You mean you have things to do besides scaring innocent waitresses half-out of their skin?”
The Mandalorian scanned the area around you, then subtly pulled a small metal object out of the leather holster slung around his hips. You leaned over to see the unmistakable blinking red light of a tracking fob resting in the palm of his dark glove. 
Oh. That explained the money, then. Bounty hunting— through the Guild, if the emblem on the device was anything to go by— had shot up in popularity after the Empire fell and the New Republic needed good mercenaries to capture the remaining Imperial loyalists. You’d bet a decent amount of credits that this hunter wouldn’t balk at capturing a few Imps, with the way he’d spat out the name of the Empire as if it poisoned him when you first met. Personal vendetta or not, you respected anyone who was brave enough to give them the justice they deserved for the destruction their reign had brought to the galaxy. 
You bit your lip, considering. You had already made up your mind to take care of the child when he suggested it, but he didn’t need to know that. “How long would you need to leave him with me for?”
“A day, at most. Shouldn’t take too long, I’ve been stalking the quarry for a while.” The Mandalorian continued. “I can pay you well for your time.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “You still owe me a story, you know.” Bending over, you reached into the Mandalorian’s bag and gently picked up the child, careful not to snag his tiny tunic on the metal clasps. “C’mere, bug. Looks like you and I are going to get to know each other.”
A thought popped into your head as you stared down at the small green baby. “Does he have a name?” 
The armored man in front of you spoke with gruff pride, “His name is Grogu.” He seemed unexpectedly pleased at your question; you supposed he didn’t have many opportunities to talk about his son very often, with the literal wall his armor created in social interactions.
You watched in surprise as Grogu twisted towards the Mandalorian at the sound of his voice, cooing happily. “You like the sound of your name, huh?” Clearly, the kid adored him, and for good reason. The stoic warrior had an obvious soft spot for the little guy.
Speaking of which… You eyed the man in front of you. “You know, it’s generally polite to have introduced yourself by now, metal man. It’s getting a little weird to keep thinking of you as The Big, Nameless Suit of Beskar,” you teased. 
You beamed up at him innocently and spoke your name, extending your hand towards him. “See? Not so hard. Now it’s your turn,” you explained slowly, as if you were trying to teach a toddler to sound out the alphabet. 
After several tortuously long seconds, during which your outstretched hand began to waver slightly, he finally responded. “Most people just call me Mando.” 
You dropped your arm, flexing your fingers. Ah, well, you could work on the handshake bit later. “Mando.” You hummed at the way the name easily rolled off your tongue, absently registering how the man stiffened at the lilting sound. “Not as scary as the outfit, but it’ll have to do.”
The M–Mando shrugged off the strange, momentary stillness that had possessed him and began retreating closer to the throng of marketgoers. “You’ll be alright with the kid?”
You rolled your eyes, affirming your ability to take care of Grogu while he handled business. Mando gave a quick nod and turned, preparing to leave. You took the moment to swipe the holospeaker out of the child’s hands– how had he gotten ahold of that?– and scanned the market for a booth that he might like. You still couldn’t find a textile shop in your line of sight, but you noticed a tiny arts and crafts area that seemed perfect for him to play in. 
You looked up to find the Mandalorian still standing nearby, helmet tilted towards you as he paused. “For your.. story. He likes shiny toys– he’s always unscrewing bits of the ship to play with when I’m not looking.” He pulled a small metal ball out of his holster and tossed it over to you. “This is his favorite.”
You turned the sphere over in your hand, smiling as the baby immediately reached for it. “I wonder why,” you mused, giving his silver-plated father a pointed look. “Must remind him of somebody.” 
Mando huffed a surprised laugh out through the modulator, helmet angled with new interest in the green child deeply entranced by the reflective surface of the ball. “Never thought of it like that before,” he muttered as he walked away, sparing you a short wave before he disappeared in the crowd.
You watched him go with a poorly-hidden grin, balancing Grogu on your hip as you navigated a path back into the market. “Alright, bug, let’s go have some fun.”
***
You spent the rest of the afternoon browsing countless booths with your charge, picking up little trinkets here and there. You eventually left with a respectable amount of merchandise– a pad of paper and coloring supplies for Grogu, a new tunic set, and even a sachet of Hothberry tea leaves that were rumored to keep one warm for hours after just one sip. Nothing for Mando, although the thought had crossed your mind more than once. You began your return home, carrying the cooing green child under streetlamps that twinkled warmly as the sky gradually darkened. He’d behaved so well all afternoon that you gave in and bought a sweetgrain scone to share on the long walk back.
You spent very few minutes setting your purchases in your rental pod upon your arrival. Grogu was getting fussy despite the snack, and you realized that Mando had never told you a meeting place where he’d pick him up. You decided to just bring Grogu along to your evening shift at the cantina, since that would likely be the first place he’d look and you didn’t want to be blamed for disappearing with his child. Sure enough, the Mandalorian showed up soon after the sun sunk beneath the icy horizon with another bag of credits and armor that was slightly more scuffed than the last time you’d seen it. You smiled, handing him his sleepy but satisfied son and the art supplies you’d picked up.
Mando had stared at the bundle of gifts for longer than necessary and for a moment you worried that you had offended him somehow. When he looked back at you, though, your fears were calmed by his intensely genuine tone. “Thank you. That was thoughtful of you.” He carefully placed the items in his bag. You smiled as he tried– and failed– to wrest the metal ball from Grogu’s tiny hands, despite the child looking seconds from passing out.  
Your eyes darted to the gradually cooling bowl of soup in front of him, which hadn’t been touched since he sat down. You cleared your throat awkwardly. “Is, um, something wrong with the food? Because I didn’t see you touch it last time, and I can make something else if you need, but.. you have to tell me.”
The Mandalorian remained silent, and you doubted whether he had heard your small-voiced question when he finally spoke. “I cannot remove my helmet in front of others. It is the Way,” he explained carefully, watching your response. 
Your eyes widened in comprehension as you considered his statement. The library datapad had frustratingly little information on Mandalorian culture, and you’d never heard of this rule until now. If he couldn’t remove the helmet… how long had it been since he had the chance to eat or drink without the kid nearby? Between taking care of Grogu and tracking bounties, you assumed that there was very little time for him to find a secluded area to remove the beskar. You nodded decisively to yourself, grabbing his soup bowl and motioning for him to follow you. 
“What are you doing?” His voice was curious, alert but not apprehensive of your actions.
You swiveled to face him, keys dangling from one hand and a focused expression on your face. “We have a storage room for the non-perishable food back here. If you want to eat there, I can make sure that no one comes in for a while,” you explained, leading him to a cramped, dimly lit room with pallets of sandgrain flour forming a makeshift table next to a small folding chair.
“Is this.. okay?” You spoke hesitantly when he stilled at your words. Kriff, you hoped you hadn’t implied something insulting when you’d unthinkingly offered the room. You grimaced as your brain kicked into overdrive, spinning like a frightened sand massif at the first possibility of a mistake. 
“I know it’s small, and I understand if you’d rather—”
“It’s perfect,” Mando interrupted you, stumbling slightly over the rushed words. “There are– many who would try to remove my helmet.” His voice lowered, edged slightly with wonder. “Thank you for allowing me to maintain my Creed.” 
He stood there for a moment, helmet tilted intently down at you. His hands lingered for a fraction of a second, tough leather brushing powder-soft skin as he gently set Grogu in your arms. When he shut the door, you leaned against the doorframe as quietly as you could, still feeling the ghost of his touch on the hands pressed to your heated cheeks.
***
And so you fell into a routine: every few weeks, Mando would come by with the kid and leave him with you for a few hours while he tracked down another bounty. When he returned, you’d invite him into the back for a warm meal, allowing him to eat alone in peace for a few minutes while Grogu thawed the icy hearts of your patrons with his mischievous coos. He always arrived after nightfall and never spent longer than an hour in the cantina. Well, except for the one time he’d accidentally fallen asleep in the small room. You’d gone to check on him once you finally cleared out the evening’s customers. It was clear that he’d been napping by his scratchy, startled response when you knocked softly on the door– emphasized even more by his embarrassed posture when he exited. Privately, you thought it was rather endearing, so you chose not to tease him about the momentary lapse in consciousness. 
You’d gotten used to his schedule, your semi-frequent meetings becoming a habit you were quite fond of maintaining. So when you didn’t see Mando for several weeks longer than predicted, you began to feel worried. Your heart twinged at the thought that maybe he’d found someone more interesting than a cantina waitress to look after Grogu, someone who didn’t live on an icy prison planet a parsec removed from civilization. And yet– Mando hadn’t hinted that he’d be stopping his visits, and his job was dangerous and unpredictable. Your mind swam with visions of him spiraling through space, unconscious and battered, ship engines sputtering out flame. You started taking earlier shifts at the cantina, pushing down thoughts of him before they ate at you more than they should for a casual acquaintance. 
Which is why you were shocked when Mando appeared in the doorway one afternoon, silhouetted by the bright daytime sun for the first time.
A momentary hush descended upon the cantina, quickly turning into a roar of nervous chatter when the imposing beskar figure sat down at the end of the bar. You muttered an excuse to your coworkers and rushed over, trying to look casual as you scanned his armor. It looked considerably worse than it had the last time you saw him, scuffed and covered in frozen mud– but his movements didn’t seem impaired by injury. You let out a tiny huff of relief, the sound catching the attention of the Mandalorian. 
He nodded at you, straightening. You sent him a small smile as you tossed him the cantina menu. “Haven’t seen you in a while,” you said, as casually as you could manage. 
“Miss me?” You couldn’t see his face, but you would bet every credit of your tips today that he was smirking under that kriffing helmet. You gaped at him, then recovered yourself with a haughty toss of your head, letting your hair fall in a curtain before your face so he wouldn’t see your flustered expression. 
“Don’t know why I would. I only tolerate you for your son, you know,” you sniffed, placing your hands on your hips. 
He let out a surprised, genuine laugh at that, and your face warmed at the deep sound. You felt a heady rush of pride at being able to pull the reaction from the normally reserved man, fighting the desire to do whatever it took to hear it again. You quickly brushed that thought aside, however, when you took in the empty bag slung across his torso, frowning at the noticeable absence of Grogu’s big ears. 
The Mandalorian followed your trailing glance. “I don’t have the kid,” he said, tone edged with a hint of frustration as he adjusted his gloves. “Kriffing Imps,” he muttered.
You paled. Imperials? “Is he–”
Mando’s helmet snapped up at the panicked tone of your voice. “No, he’s safe. Left him with a friend,” he explained. “Someone’s been following me on this bounty— maybe another Imperial remnant. Didn’t want to risk him.”
Tension bled out of your posture at his words, but your eyebrows remained knit together in confusion. “So if you’re not here to drop off the kid…” you started slowly. “What brings you back to Nath? Since you obviously didn’t stop by just to say hello,” you asked, giving him a pointed look. 
Mando tilted his head in acknowledgement. Apparently, that was the closest thing you were getting to an apology. Oh, well.
“Wish I knew,” he muttered. “Chased the quarry across the galaxy for weeks, don’t know why he stopped here when there’s more populated places. It’s like he wants to be found.”
You sucked in your bottom lip, absentmindedly scrubbing at a sticky puddle of spotchka on the counter. “You think it’s a trap?”
He gave a small shrug, subtly flicking something on his helmet and scanning the room. “Not sure.” He turned back to you, posture tensed. “Somethin’ doesn’t feel right, though. Keep your eyes open and get out if there’s trouble.”
You nodded, wiping a pair of dusty glasses to make it look like you were doing something more than eyeing the half-full cantina with hidden trepidation. You felt it too– the strange quiet of the wind brushing past the shutters, the way your hair stood up on your skin. 
Minutes later, a Trandoshan sauntered into the cantina and took the seat beside Mando, who immediately stilled. He grinned lecherously at you, motioning for a drink. You poured a glass of spotchka and handed it over, grimacing at the feeling of his eyes trailing down your torso like cold slime. “Thanks, honey,” he drawled, scaly hand scraping your wrist in a menacing caress. You stiffened, but chose not to respond, focusing back on the dishes. This wasn’t the first time you’d been harassed by a customer, but until now no one had dared to do so in front of the beskar-clad man sitting in front of you. Your frequent proximity to the intimidating figure seemed to cow the usual crowd into something adjacent to manners– something you missed during the weeks he was away. 
“Heard you were looking for me,” he spoke affably to the Mandalorian beside him. The hulking lizard raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, smirking. Mando remained silent, hands tightened around his glass, and you wondered why he hadn’t already tied up the bounty and left. The Trandoshan’s sly confidence around his hunter made you shift uneasily. Something was very, very wrong.
“See, I got a lot of credits, and you seem reasonable,” the Trandoshan spoke casually. “I know the bounty’s not worth what I can offer you, so how about we make a deal?”
Mando shifted slightly, the beskar plate on his forearm glinting. “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold. Your choice.” His voice sounded through the modulator, deep and calm with a predator’s poise. “How’s that for a deal?”
The Trandoshan let out a harsh laugh. “Shame you wouldn’t bargain,” he said with mock regret. He twisted his hand up in the air, and you watched as nine more Trandoshans slunk out of the shadows of the cantina booths. The rest of the patrons quieted as they watched the tense scene, the smart ones making their excuses and leaving in a hurry. You were no stranger to bar fights, but they’d never escalated past a couple of drunken punches and a firm boot to the curb for all involved. This one, though… it seemed like it might get deadly.
“My friends and I’ve heard something about a Mandalorian bounty hunter. One who’s got a nice, fat Imperial price tag on his head,” he sneered, spit flying from his mouth. “Think that’d be a fair replacement for mine.” 
Mando turned his helmet oh-so-slightly towards you, making the tiniest nod towards the door. Go, he seemed to be telling you, and you inched towards the kitchen–
Your breath caught in your throat as you eyed the lizards closing in around him. You were sure he was a seasoned warrior, but ten armored adversaries at once seemed a little much for one person. You couldn’t help him fight, but… maybe you could distract them long enough for him to gain the element of surprise.
Before you could talk yourself out of your quickly-made plan, you grabbed a tulip-shaped flute of algarine bubbly and stepped up to the orange Tradoshan you’d served earlier with a coquettish smile. “On the house,” you said, passing him the glass with a bat of your lashes you hoped came across as sincere. You felt ill at the way his eyes rested greedily on the sliver of your chest exposed by your lean across the bar, but it appeared that you’d momentarily distracted him. If only you could get his friends’ attention, too… 
You glanced around, searching for anything you could use to cause a scene– pointedly ignoring the way Mando’s gloved hands twitched at your movement closer to the dangerous humanoid. Trust me, you mentally pleaded with him. I’m trying to help.
Your eyes finally fell on the spotchka situated uncomfortably close to your elbow. Perfect. You gave the Trandoshan a ditzy giggle, swaying like you were entranced by his gaze as you quickly jabbed the large pitcher. You gasped in fake horror as it shattered, spraying alcohol over most of the floor and onto the three closest lizards. The group swiveled at the disruption, venomous glares shifting to you instead of the armored man they were gathered around. 
“Oops,” you smiled, sugary-sweet and innocent. “Sorry, honey.”
And then Mando did something with his arm, flexing out his vambrace in a motion so quick you didn’t register it until flames shot across the alcohol on the bar and onto the scales of the Tradoshans. He immediately snapped into action as they roared in shocked pain, twisting and shooting as they fell one at a time. You admired his agile form for a moment, awed by how precise his movements were, how easily he moved into the flow of fighting like it was a second skin. A moment too long, it seemed, because you snapped your gaze away from Mando to see the orange Tradoshan bearing down on you. 
“Fucking bitch,” he hissed, eyes bulging with hatred as he lunged across the counter. Your eyes widened as you ducked backwards, intending to stumble into the safety of the kitchen but slamming into the unforgiving wall instead. Stupid, stupid, stupid, you chided yourself, stomach dropping as you scrambled to get your bearings through the surge of pain paralyzing your muscles. You didn’t know how to fight–should’ve run for cover the minute the spotchka hit the floor, honestly– and instead you just stood there like a kriffing nerf herder. 
You cried out at the impact of the Tradoshan’s sharply-scaled fist scraping your cheek, gasping and flinching away from the hit you were sure would land next between your ribs. He hissed at you through jagged teeth, sour breath like acid on your face. He cocked his blaster and you twisted yourself, preparing to launch into one final, defiant attack–
A blur of silver slammed into the orange lizard, knocking him off of you with a violent crash. You heard his bony nose break with a crack, followed by what sounded like an entire charge cartridge’s worth of blaster shots. You pushed yourself off the floor, wincing at the throb of pain that echoed at your temples but steeling yourself to get up nonetheless. Your mouth parted at the sight of the cantina, booths ablaze and blaster shots ringing through the smoky air.
Mando shouted your name over the commotion, sharp and intense. “Are you–”
“Fine. I’m fine,” you wheezed out in a relieved sob as he made his way over to you. “We need to go, the fire–”
“I know,” he muttered as he hooked an arm around your torso and dragged you behind a countertop, shielding you with his armor. “They’ve blocked the doors. Windows, too– I got seven of them, but the others are trying to burn us out.” 
“Please tell me you have a backup plan,” you begged, narrowly avoiding a stray charge that chipped the already-fragile cabinet. It would only be a matter of minutes before your feeble cover fell, and you didn’t feel like waiting around for more Tradoshans to show up.
The Mandalorian shrugged, gesturing to the fireplace in front of you. “It worked the first time.”
Your jaw dropped, anxiety momentarily forgotten. “Metal man. Are you saying that on your first night here… you left through the chimney?!”
“It’s very comfortable,” was all he said as he swung you over onto the hearth, casually shooting backwards at the face of a Trandoshan peering through a crack in the cantina door. From the muffled sound of something hitting the steps, his aim was flawless.
You gaped at him, speechless with disbelief. Was he… teasing you? If he was trying to distract you from the pain shooting across your face, it was definitely working. “Oh, no, everything’s fine, I’m just escaping a crime scene with an apparent madman,” you muttered to yourself, shaking your head at the absurdity of the situation. “Don’t know how I could’ve missed the simplest way out of here.”
No wonder you hadn’t woken up when he left– he hadn’t so much as touched the very reasonable idea of opening the shutters to get out. No, the kriffing chimney was the most obvious next step. With that kind of creativity, you supposed it made sense that he’d stayed alive in the bounty hunting business for so long. The mental image of the big, stoic Mandalorian inching his way up the vertical corridor with a little green accomplice on his back–combined with the general chaos of the last half hour–quickly became more than you could handle. You allowed yourself a moment of hysteria before sliding into the fireplace, head tilting back as you viewed the long, long passageway above.
***
Comfortable, my arse. You panted, some ten minutes later, sweat streaming down your face as you struggled to keep a solid grip on the sooty brick around you. The climb was not as amusing as you’d previously thought. Maybe you’d manage better if you had a grappling gun hidden in your forearm and boots with climbing spikes, like the beskar-plated man behind you. Right now, though, all you had were your worn-through work shoes and a hacking cough from all the smoke rising up to you from the wreck of the cantina below. 
“Come on,” you muttered, willing yourself to scoot up another meter despite your quickly fatiguing thigh muscles. How tall was this chimney, anyway? It felt like you’d been climbing for miles, but maybe that was just your poor endurance talking. 
“You doing okay?” Mando called up to you, grunting slightly at the weight of the Trandoshan bounty around his shoulders. There was no way you’d let him try to carry you too, though you knew he’d offer if you faltered. You screwed up your face in concentration, muttering something resembling an affirmation as you focused on shifting higher and higher until you finally, blissfully reached the top.
You let out a small whoop of success, collapsing on the roof as Mando pulled himself up behind you. “Thought I’d never make it out of there,” you beamed up at him. Your relieved smile faded as you took in his still-tensed posture as he looked off the edge of the roof. 
“What is it?”
He turned back toward you, setting the Tradoshan’s body down with a thunk. “They’re setting detonators around the building,” he spoke, his modulated baritone rough and distracted as he fiddled with a heavy metal backpack beneath his cloak. 
You swallowed thickly, closing your eyes for a moment as you fought to suppress the panic that rose up at his words. When you opened them, he’d shoved the Tradoshan onto the roof of the building next door, which was a safe distance away from the flames but remarkably jagged. You eyed the area, wondering if his plan was to crouch there and pray that the shrapnel from the explosion would miss the two of you. 
Mando walked over, motioning for you to get up. You got back on your feet, slightly dizzy from the smoke as you stumbled over to him. 
“Need you to hold on to me,” he muttered awkwardly, extending an arm. You gaped at him, utterly confused at the uncharacteristic action. How was clinging to him like a baby womp rat supposed to get you out of here before the building crumbled? 
Still, you stepped closer to him and tentatively wrapped your hand around his vambrace. You made a tiny noise of surprise as he tugged you into his chest, your arms instinctively wrapping around his broad torso. You ducked your head, glad that he couldn’t see your flaming face from this angle. Yep, that touch starvation was definitely doing a number on you. You could feel the rise and fall of his breaths, his chest surprisingly warm underneath the cool beskar plates that protected it— and stars, none of that was doing anything to lessen your little crush. 
“Close your eyes,” he instructed, and you quickly complied. Seconds after you’d scrunched your face up in concentration, you felt a tug in your stomach and the wind rise in your hair. Your eyes snapped back open on instinct as you felt your feet leave the ground, your grip on Mando tightening in panic. You peeked past his armor and saw nothing but cold winter sky— and was that a kriffing jet pack?! You gasped as you glanced down and realized that you were rapidly approaching a hundred feet in the air, the cantina exploding into a fiery speck beneath you. 
You and large heights had a strained relationship, so you clung to Mando with all your strength and prayed that he had enough fuel to land somewhere very solid. “You didn’t tell me we’d be flying out of there,” you spoke, words muffled by the wind and the way your face was currently scrunched against his hard chestplate.
“You didn’t ask,” he responded. If you weren’t so focused on staying alive, you might have been offended at his cheeky tone, but you settled for an eye roll.
You landed a few miles outside of town on the ice fishers’ territory. It took you longer than you wanted to admit to get detangled from the Mandalorian, mostly because your fingers had frozen into a death grip of a hug around him. He gently pried you off his armor, setting you on a patch of snow slightly less icy than the others and walking past you. You turned to see him open the boarding ramp of a silver Razor Crest in all its pre-Imperial glory. The ship was older than you expected, but in decent condition.
You carefully followed him into the ship, climbing up after him into the cockpit. The leather passenger seat was surprisingly comfortable, and your muscles slowly unstiffened as you watched him fire up the engines.
“I have to go pick up the bounty,” Mando stated, moving over to set the navigation screen. He paused. “Do you need to be… dropped off somewhere?”
“I— I don’t really have anywhere else to go,” you admitted, looking down at your lap. “The only place I had a connection to here was just blown up.” You winced, wondering how you’d ever find work now that you were partly to blame for the destruction of the town’s singular watering hole. 
Mando was silent for a while as he maneuvered the ship towards the cantina wreckage. You craned your neck towards the arching glass windows, staring down at the snowy landscape of Nath. “It’s so much more beautiful from above,” you spoke softly, wonder evident in your tone. “Always wanted to travel, see views like this every day, but… off-world tickets these days are too expensive.” Your face took on a wistful expression. “Must be nice to do this for your job. I bet the kid loves it, too.”
Mando cleared his throat, helmet tilting towards you.
“You could— work for me. Take care of the kid, here on the ship,” he spoke hesitantly. “Visit planets with us when I’m not hunting bounties.” 
You glanced over at him in shock, mouth falling open. Hope swelled up in you at his words, and you could hardly breathe at the idea of what he was offering you. A way off Nath, to experience the galaxy like you’d always dreamed- stars, but it felt surreal.
“It’d be better for him to have someone to rely on when I’m gone, stay in one place for longer,” he continued, faltering slightly at your silence. “The ship’s small, but I can pay you well and your needs would be taken care of for as long as you stay—“
“Yes,” you gasped out, the words embarrassingly rushed, but you didn’t care. “If— if you’re serious, then yes, I accept.”
He seemed surprised at the vehemence with which you spoke, but nodded. “This is the Way,” his deep baritone sounded through the modulator, final and determined. 
This is the Way. You practically vibrated with excitement at the phrase, face breaking into a grin as you settled back in the seat. All you’d have to do was keep that pesky attraction to the beskar-covered man piloting the ship under control, and you’d finally be free. Free of Nath’s soul-crushing atmosphere, free to travel the galaxy like you’d always dreamed of— albeit with a little green child at your side. 
Sure, he was the most interesting person you’d ever met, and the way his voice lowered when he bantered with you sent a jolt of something down your spine.
But it couldn’t be that hard, right?
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read on: part iii
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vivipokedex · 1 year
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just wanna say that i am floored by your pokemon art here. so many times ive seen people create more "realistic" takes on pokemon, but ive never seen anyone take this approach and still be able to maintain the heart and soul of the original cartoon design the way you have. like, i'm looking at your zigzagoon and i can of course see the raccoon elements in it, but i don't feel like i'm looking at a raccon with zigzagoon colors. im looking at zigzagoon! it's incredible! i'm just in love with it all. its like a biology textbook for pokemon in the best way. and the progession you take in the evolutions is so wonderful - seeing how you exaggerate and amplify the creature features from mudkip to swampert in order to communicate evolution while staying within the axolotl design language - i love it. and its so incredible with the wurmple line, the bug aspects can really make them seem alien, but your designs make them more real AND keep them so true to the lovable guys we befriend along the way. love the sceptile, LOVE the combusken, the mightyena, the DUSTOX!! thats the real dustox!!!! just love love love it all!!!!! thank you for sharing your art!!!!!!!!
WOW! :)))) Thank you so much!!!! i'm really really happy to hear my approach is satisfying to look at ^_^
i suppose my way of looking at it is rather than get caught up in Realism, as at the end of the day pokemon ARE fantastical creatures and adhere to specific art style(s) in their design, i try to focus on just making them... tangible? corporeal? not necessary a creature that could realistically live in an ecosystem comparable to ours, but a creature that could move around, be touched, exist and hang out and act like a specimen. i diverge from the original "shape" a lot sometimes (see: sceptile) but i try not to do it in too obvious a way. some traits can be a bit difficult to "translate" in this manner, but that's part of the fun. i like what i did with zekrom recently, its design is rarely tackled that way so i enjoy the challenge :D
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iznsfw · 1 year
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hi, can u write a wonyoung x male reader fluff?
Even Princesses Cry Sometimes
IZ Days of Christmas: Day 12 - Jang Wonyoung
IVE's Jang Wonyoung x Male/Female Reader Fluff
2,123 words
Categories | short, slightly angsty, idol!Wonyoung, caring!reader, tears and cuddles
Very short and late, but who cares?
Maybe I'll catch up with Yujin and Yuri some of these days.
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It’s always another day, another front she’s putting up. Another disguise. Of course, only you know about the partial artificiality of it all. When she tries to put on a brave face throughout her schedules, or tells a particularly rude fan to take care of themself despite their scathing words, part of your heart just aches with the knowledge. Like you, she’s still so young - no eighteen-year-old has to bear with the pressure of the world burdening their shoulders like rocks. 
No eighteen-year-old has gone through as much as Jang Wonyoung has. You want to make it easier for her, but she almost never lets you. She’s built such a great wall around herself that even you, her partner, can’t break through. Even if you summoned all the might into your fists and beat around its bricks, it would take long before you can even make a hole.
For the wall to be broken, the one who built it must reach out.
Gaze at the television and wonder when that will happen. It’s rarer than anything. But there she stands, gorgeous as always. Her dark hair flows in the night, and the blue dress that drapes around her form makes her look like a princess. With the colors and her makeup, she can easily pass as a Korean Cinderella. No, she can’t be Cinderella - Wonyoung never needs someone to save her. She was never a damsel in distress, which is why she’s expressed her dislike for the tale so many times:
(“It’s so… fucking odd, jagi-ya,” laughed Wonyoung, over a pack of potato salted-egg chips, while she lounged with you on the sofa. The TV was on, the classical Cinderella was playing, and Wonyoung was… well, unimpressed. She ran through her locks of messy curled hair and added, “I understand the situation. I really do—”
“You don’t,” you interrupted truthfully, but not without a smile. Oh, never without a smile; Wonyoung is your happy pill, no matter what she says.
Wonyoung laughed loudly, pushing you in the chest hard. Laughter overtook her tiny frame. “Fine, fine!” she admitted. “I don’t, but see here… this is fucking ridiculous. It’s just- ugh!” She rolled her eyes and gave you an exasperated look. “But you get me, don’t you? You get what I mean?”
There was a hint of fear in those beautiful eyes of hers. Something told you that the question was born not out of frustration, but was instead from caution nested in the swindle of circumstance the universe had blown her to. Was Wonyoung afraid she would offend you? Had the headlines and tabloid articles created a phobia she’d never dare tell anyone - not even you?
But then your lips found her forehead creased with lines of worry, and you felt them relax beneath the touch of your love. Wonyoung settled into your arms as if she were your little songbird, and you were the only nest she found that would not break.
 “I do, hon,” you told her. “I do.”)
Fine, you’d settle for her being no one because not one princess out there can match Wonyoung in everything she does. She’s the perfect girl, the perfect idol. She’s pretty, talented, and charismatic enough to attract all of her success by herself. No girl her age is at the point of success she has at her fingertips. But it’s something that can easily be snatched from her with just the wrong move. Everyday is a challenge for her; too much smiling equals to her being too flirtatious, but little smiling and winks mean that she’s too reserved and self-centered to take notice of the people around her. In everything she does, begrudged people find a way to twist it around into a bad light. 
You admire how resilient she is. Much to the shock of her admirers and fanatics, it isn’t exactly ideal to live a life being so closely watched. Not even with all the wealth she possesses. The way she has learned to cope with it independently teaches you more life lessons than any seminar could. But you want to remind her sometimes that she doesn’t have to be strong all the time with you. You can take her falls. You have each other, don’t you? Isn’t that what partners are for?
The fall of the princess is televised, put out there for everyone to pick apart and make fun of. Worst of all, you aren't able to catch her.
-
Wonyoung is happy to find out that her group, the monster rookie idol band IVE, won a lot of medals and marked new milestones. But now tears slip down her beautiful face. The camera focuses on her. It loves her, craves her - every bit of Jang Wonyoung is too pretty to not be captured and immortalized; of course it does. She sees it and tries to stop, but the fat drops of grief - grief for what could have been, what should have been; grief for her young self who wasn’t and isn’t able to enjoy the last few years of her childhood - continue to pour down like rain. 
As the colorful confetti falls from the roof of the grand stadium, she falls, too, and the members start to take notice. Yujin leans over to ask if she needs a tissue, and Jiwon rubs a comforting hand on her back. But none quench the need for a hug she has buried deep inside her heart. She needs someone beyond her friends slash co-workers. She needs you.
Wonyoung looks around. There are only crowds and crowds of noisy fans and cameras flashing. But her observant eyes scrutinize every corner in the large room for any sign of you. There’s still hope in her heart that you’ll come dashing into the show to help her. Sort of like a knight in shining armor in a children’s fairy tale. 
Jagi-ya? Where are you? I need you right now, please. You can’t leave me here.
Then she remembers: her life may be glamorous, but it isn’t a fairytale. She’s only one girl, in a massive crowd of people she doesn’t know, trying to make it through the night. Her thoughts are making it more than difficult though. They consist of the pain she went through to get here: those dark nights where she practiced till her legs felt like they were going to snap, the harsh scolding she received from teachers, days when her schedules were so packed that she didn’t even have the time to eat or even breathe…
Wonyoung’s makeup is stained with her own sadness. She’s gorgeous - that’s an indisputable fact, she’s talented, she’s young and successful. But what are the hardships she had to bear and all its blooming fruits worth if she doesn’t have you?
She’s torn up from the inside. She needs you now, more than anything, yet you are nowhere to be found. But it isn’t your fault. She’s been too reserved and private after all, dealing with her matters and affairs by herself. It’s only natural that you would think that she can handle her tears. Compared to everything she has to handle, tears are merely a little thing. You’re already used to the idea of her being self-reliant, so why would you show up now?
Her phone buzzes all of a sudden. One click at the side of the costly phone case, she’s able to see your messages.
You | 11:47 PM | Hey, princess?
You want to take the night off a little early? Watch some clueless? :) 
-
And she thought you’d never come. 
Wonyoung crashes between your rounded arms. This time, you don’t worry about messing up her hair, which must have taken hours to curl. You don’t hold yourself back from taking her in your arms, although the stylists warned her not to ruin the pretty blue dress. No, you bury your face into her neck, kissing it over and over. You’re happy to see her; only meeting her less these past few weeks has made you lonelier than you’d like to admit. And you know that she’s happy too; her tearful, beautiful eyes sparkle when she gazes up at you. But you also know that, although she would rather die than admit it, she’s been missing the comfort of someone caring for her.
She’s a princess, and you’re her knight in shining armor. Wonyoung rarely needs you, much less a knight to come save her. But she appreciates your love. She’ll hide it behind blushes and playful circles of her eyes, but she loves you. It comforts her that you do, too.
People are staring. The cameras start flashing. The same fear gathers up in Wonyoung’s heart again, but this time, she shoves it aside. She’s not going to hide her love for you anymore. She won’t let anyone get in her way.
The wall has finally broken and deteriorated. 
Wonyoung seizes your face in between her slim hands, and kisses you deeply. It surprises you; her full lips are extremely soft, brushing over your pink ones and locking them with hers. Her eyes close, but your eyelids remain parted. This time, you’re the one scared. You aren’t scared of your own reputation, but for Wonyoung. What will the media do when they find out she has a partner already? Oh, how they’d villainize her! How they’d paint her into a promiscuous, indifferent queen bee!
“W-Wonyoung,” you stammer, when she finally stops. “The, the media—”
“Darling, please. I don’t care anymore. I just want you.”
Her words feed into a phone-installed recorder nearby. The woman holding it looks horrified, but Wonyoung simply gives her a coy wink. You smile; that’s the Jang Wonyoung you know.
You smile sincerely. Brush the tears from her face with your thumb, and realize just how much you love Wonyoung. It’s like destiny tied your threads together from the beginning. You were just a fan of her back in Produce 48 because you love how brave she was to put herself out there, despite being your age only. Hell, you couldn’t do that. When she met you at  a fanmeeting and discreetly passed you her number, you were on top of the world. It was straight out of a fanfiction.
But all fanfictions end. That can’t be said about you and her. You’re best friends, lovers, and frenemies all at once. Your relationship is built around deep friendship, and that’s why you’re certain that the love you share with Wonyoung will go on forever. 
“That’s my girl,” you whisper, kissing her forehead. It’s only you and her in this stadium. All the others are faceless ghosts, nothing to worry about. “Movie night?”
Wonyoung smiles giddily. “You bet!”
-
For the first time in years, Wonyoung completely cuddles up in your lap. Thank your parents for having tall genes; if you were any shorter than Wonyoung, you would be the one seated in her lap. It would be the other way around. 
You still keep CDs, so you’re able to watch Clueless with her on the television. She’s raptly watching the iconic chick flick, mimicking the main character with “As if!”s and laughing afterwards. But you’re more interested in her rather than the film itself. Wonyoung is the prettiest when she’s happy. The companies love her trendy poses when she shoots magazine covers or photos, but her most charming self is this:
Half-moon eyes, mouth stretched into a giggly grin, and her hand becoming the resting place of her cheek as she laughs over and over at the comedic timings of the movie. Her brown hair in its uncurled natural state resting at her shoulders, which are not trapped in one of the stage outfits anymore, but rather a big, gray sweatshirt that was once yours. You want it back, but she looks better in it than you do, so you speak nothing about it.
Wonyoung falls asleep just when Clueless is about to reach its conclusive end. With strong, trained arms, you carry her over to your shared bed and tuck her to bed. She stirs a little, but she doesn’t open her eyes. She only smiles, knowing you have her back now, and beckons you under the sheets.
Slide under the comforter and wrap a protective arm around her. Moments like these make you happily remember that Jang Wonyoung isn’t merely just an idol, but your girlfriend. Your little spoon. Your baby rabbit. At the same time, you match all her curved puzzle pieces, and act the role of being her partner, big spoon, and a caring person who won’t let any hunter find her. 
You’re made for each other. And as you snuggle closer to Wonyoung, your puzzle pieces connect. You promise, silently, to never let go.
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sunnyrosewritesstuff · 2 months
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Ready to rec some awesome fics that I read this month!! Feel free to add on with some of your own Bagginshield recs. 😁
April 2024 Rec List
G Rated:
A Dwarven Beauty by bebel_bee (Complete, 4K, 1ch.)- You have to love cultural differences where it comes to the dwarven and hobbit concepts of beauty. Bilbo is getting a bunch of odd comments on his looks that he thinks are derogatory. This is such a fun, quick read with fun misunderstandings and a lovely getting together scene.
Green-Handed by lotus0kid (Complete, 41K, 20ch.)- This was a really fun magical hobbits fic. Under certain conditions, hobbits go "green-handed" which means they can grow anything through touch and that's how Bilbo finds himself one morning. The ending of this fic just gets me with how absolutely enamored Thorin is with Bilbo and his gift.
Ive found Frodo...and he found you? by Lucigoo89 (Complete, 2K, 1ch.)- I need to preface this by saying my house had an entire den of fifteen skunks living under it that we tried to relocate...I absolutely despise skunks. But I gave this a chance for Lucigoo and it was as predicted, completely adorable. Little skunk Frodo wanders off and when Bilbo goes after him, he finds him in a den of badgers, one of whom he knows rather intimately.
T Rated:
Burning Crowns by Morg47 (Complete, 9K, 2ch.)- I read the first chapter when this was just a one-shot craving more and the author didn't disappoint! Infamous thief Bilbo helps the rightful king of Erebor in his assassination attempt of Smaug. I love seeing a confident BAMF Bilbo, and apparently Thorin does too.
Frozen Heart by snowmissus (soul_of_blaze) (WIP, 14K, 5ch.)- This is such a unique AU with a compelling set up. Bilbo has been tasked by Yavanna to try to help Erebor out of its frozen state, and by extension its king. Very fairytale-esque with some great characterizations and interactions, I can't wait for more!
Imbalance by northerntrash (Complete, 10K, 1ch.)- This story genuinely shocked me! In this Hades/Persephone AU, it is Bilbo who is Lord of the Underworld and Thorin who is a plant life god. As cracky as that sounds, it actually legitimately works in this AU as Bilbo and Thorin rely on each other to make themselves better.
There and Not Back Again (or, The Saving of Erebor) by femmbingley (WIP, 178K, 52ch.)- There’s so much to say about this fic. Post-BOTFA dwarven politics where Bilbo has assumed the duties of the consort which makes things more difficult for Dain. I really love the characterizations and I just can’t get enough of this fic!
to feel you like a knife by queerofthedagger (Complete, 23K, 2ch.)- Thorin's POV absolutely shook me at the beginning as he describes seeing his three loved one laid up in cots. After Bilbo saves Thorin's life, he wakes up to find his memories prior to Laketown are gone. It was so well paced and absolutely delicious in angst with a happy ending.
M Rated:
Backs to the Wall by Conkers (WIP, 124K, 24ch.)- I held off on this fic for a long time, not because I was worried I wasn’t going to enjoy it, but because I knew how much it would have me foaming at the mouth. Missing the deadline, the Company splits up at Laketown with Thorin, Dwalin, Nori, and Bilbo remaining to earn some coin. I’m beside myself with the gentle, sweet moments of pre-Bagginshield that have me screaming.
E Rated:
The Burden of Choice by Fantasyinallforms (Complete, 56K, 12ch.)- I went absolutely feral over this fic! Bilbo and Thorin are arranged to marry each other, neither knowing who the other is, and they escape in the night and begin to travel together. There were just so many emotions throughout this fic, it was so well written!
The Riven Crown by BeautifulFiction (Complete, 254K, 31ch.)- It was time for another read of this wonderful story. Bilbo stays in Erebor to see them through the winter only to find himself in a courtship with the king and a plot to see Thorin off the throne. This is just the ultimate Bilbo remains in Erebor fic and definitely worth the read if you haven't already.
Theft by Erinye (Complete, 124K, 40ch.)- Another epic that I had to reread this month. For his part in the alliance, Thorin demands Bilbo be returned to the mountain to be tried for his crimes in stealing the Arkenstone. Although the deaths of Fili and Kili break my heart in this fic, the rediscovery of Bilbo and Thorin's relationship through sex and comfort makes this a great read.
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haecien · 9 months
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What tropes i would absolutely kill to see w/ svt members
(Psst... if anyone sees this and decides to write svt with these tropes @ me please omg)
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Academic rivals - S.coups🍒 ; IVE SEEN @/woozvc NEW AU WITH CHEOL AND ITS MAKES ME FEEL SO MANY THINGS.
He would get so competitive i love him, he would also deff tease you a lot when you'd get a lower score than him
Academic rivals or Trouble maker x Goody to-shoes - Jeonghan👼; Same reason as s.coups for the academic rivals:D idk why... if they ever fucking teased me id be giggling
IVE WRITEN THE LAST TROPE AND OH MY GODDDD, jeonghan would be such a flirt and mixed with teasing??? GOD IM ON THE FLOORR
Soulmates (bonus points if you're soulmates even in pass lives) - Joshua🦌; No matter what, you'll always find yourself back to him. He is the only one fitted for you
BRO. if you both got separated since you both got reborn, he will still find you. He loves you too much that he can't seem to let you go
Actor x fan - Jun😼 ; majority of the times this is very toxic, but no reason like id imagine maybe either you would be apart of the film crew or makeup team, but you were such a big fan of him ever since you watched one drama of him
He would admire how nice you were to him, you never shouted or did anything to make him upset. You were very soft towards him🤭
Workplace love - Hoshi🐯 ; No reason. Jst hear me out! He deff found u as the cool co-worker he could always rely on. Bonus points if its a love at first sight type too🤭🤭
Or maybe it would be a business proposal type of romance
Love at first sight - Wonwoo🐱 ; God i wanna see wonwoo being so whiped after seeing you for even just a glance
He would stand there FROZEN because he was so shocked over how beautiful you were to him.
70's/60's era - Woozi🍚; I jst wanna see woozi in a white long-sleeved shirt with his sleeves rolled back with slick black pants, bonus points if he's also wearing suspenders!!!😭🤭🤭😭🤭😭🤭
Imagine jihoon as a detective, GOD HAWKVEJE he'd be real serious about his job, I feel like suddenly you would be caught up in a case that he needs to investigate. Then you guys become closer in the process😭
Admiring from a far - Minghao🐸; its not you whos admiring him, ITS MINGHAO ADMIRING YOU.🤭🤭
People always wondered who was that person in his paintings? Yeah its you, he saw that you were perfect for being his muse. But how could be possibly contact you? He's too shy for that, he'd constantly paint and paint you, he never rushed it. His strokes were always so light, it made the painting even more beautiful then it is.
At that point minghao had already memorized every little detail about you
I went a lil overboard with hao
Popular kid x Quiet kid - Mingyu🐶; LIKE. He'd literally fucking be the only one who ever payed attention to you. No one could notice you were in the room yet mingyu was the only one who ever felt your presence
Sunshine x Grumpy (basically opposites attract) - Dokyeom🌞 ; Ugh I need a sunshine Dk in my life. He'd be such an energy boost to a very grumpy reader:((
" Whats wrong? Cheer up!! " and he'd endlessly hug you🥺 JAKSJDJIDHD he is an quality time and physically touch person:( acts of service & gift giving too!
Only child x Multiple siblings - Seungkwan🍊;
... hear me out, not sure if kwan has siblings but he's gnna be the one with the multiple siblings, or maybe its an au where svt are his siblings. But non the less kwan would not hesitate to introduce you to his multiple siblings. You're not used to this but this adds on to the warm feeling seungkwan has
Oh my god , that would be comforting and chaotic as hell
Confused x Hyper - Vernon🐢; he deff wouldn't understand your hype about something, but he's trying to😭😭
" VERNON!!! look at this new - ********* " whatever is going through his head is literally a loading screen " uh huh.... " hes confused but he's here for it
Full of themselves x "Get a reality check" - Dino🦦 ; title sounds obnoxious BUT HEAR ME OUT.
Like, the reader would always complement themselves yk "bro everyone wants me forreal! "
And dino is like " Im the only person WHO wanted you. "
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Cien rambles
Guys heuhahwhekshsjhejevrjdbdj PLEASE IF ANY OF U GUYS DO MAKE SMTHING LIKE THIS @ ME OMFGG
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ghuleh-recs · 11 months
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★ Ghost Fandom Fic Rec Tag ★
VERY annoyed about the anon hate I’m seeing in my favorite writers’ ask boxes lately. So! I thought I'd live up to my username. Let’s appreciate some amazing writers and rec some fucking fics.
Rules (re: loose guidelines)
Pick some fics from your AO3 bookmarks or your likes/reblobs here on tumblr, and post them with links and a blurb about it. Maybe a summary or just a reason you liked it. As many or as few as you feel like sharing. Then, as one does, tag your friends.
This is a ZERO pressure tagging situation—if you’re too busy or don’t feel like participating, no biggie at allll. Let’s just spread some love and positivity shall we?
I’ll go first (some slightly spoiler-y descriptions ahead):
[REC] and 1080P by @st-danger We've got some absolutely delicious vulnerable Dew x completely smitten Swiss right here. Long story short, they send a video of Dew in panties to Aether. These are scorchingly hot. Part of Saint’s Kinktober series—which you better subscribe to if you haven’t already.
This Swiss x Aeon stoned hand kink ficlet from @crimsonclergy actually set my brain on fire yesterday. So there’s that.
This fic from @riconas featuring insecure Dew knotting Aether. A little desperate, a little mean, a LOT sexy.
A Touch Too Much by @miasmaghoul Hey have you ever wondered what would happen if Dew went into heat during a ritual? And how he might react to Papa singing about daddies and caressing him during KTGG? Hmm? You ever wonder about that?
It would tear me apart, it would haunt me forever (so much you'd never get to know) by @littlemoon-beam oh boy this is some stunningly good Dew angst. This fic will hurt your feelings and then you’re gonna thank Moon for it. She really blasted into this fandom like the Kool-aid guy and we are honestly so hashtag blessed for it.
Now for some reader-insert if that’s more your style.
Misaimed Desire by @violet-lazer Whoops. You accidentally texted Secondo something saucy and he summons you to his office. Whatever will he do to you? Part of her excellent First Kisses: Papal Edition series. Terzo is next so y'all better subscribe.
Banchetto by @angellayercake This. This right here is the good shit. Terzo is wasting away, not handling life after the Ghost Project well at all. Primo and Secondo enlist your help seeing as you’ve got some serious cooking skills. This is gorgeously written with some god tier slow burn and eventual smut. It’s a WIP but the most recent chapter is super satisfying, don’t you worry.
The Cardinal's Bride by @ramblingoak If you’re not following along with this, you’re REALLY missing out. This is pure bodice-ripper GOLD. Some of the most satisfying slow burn I have EVER read. I reread the whole thing every time Oak drops a new chapter.
The Prince by @kissingghouls Vampire!Terzo x slayer!reader need I say more? I am loving the latest installment of Suck Club (you should really read them all). Terzo is pathetic and wears crop tops and it has me actually kicking my heels and giggling as I read.
Cum Quickly, Now by @gasolineghuleh Basically what it says on the tin, folks. You make Papas II, III, and IV cum quickly ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ It's hot.
One last thing:
Leave a comment on ao3, or reply/reblog (with tags) here on the hellsite anything you enjoyed that someone else recommended. I dare you. The author might even reply and you’ll feel oh so special.
I tag: @littlemoon-beam, @rightintheghoulies, @myghemicalghostmance, @angellayercake, @ramblingoak, @neekocalico, @kissingghouls, @stede-bonnets, @gasolineghuleh and anyone reading this that also enjoys fanfic. Yeah you. I’m so serious. Don't test me, boy.
(Feel free to tag me back because I have soooo many others but this already got way too long.)
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sips-tea-cutely · 2 years
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Atsushi, Dazai, and Chuuya with a s/o who is v into physical affection? Like they're always hugging or kissing them?
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Physically Affectionate S/O
a/n: GUYS IM NOT A DAZAI SLANDERER ITS JUST FROM MY OWN DAZAI KINNIE THOUGHTS 💔💔💔💔
atsushi nakajima, osamu dazai, chūya nakahara
@chuuyas--boo <3
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#Atsushi Nakajima
tbh he’d be a little uncomfortable with it at first :(
its not cause touching is a nono for him he’s just a little unnerved from when the orphan director hammered his foot so yea 💔💔
BUT, after getting used to it and atsushi being reassured that the director was gone and even so, still deeply cared for atsushi, HE’D BE SUPER INTO IT <333
god almighty, please DO hug and reassure him, he’d be so grateful <33
oh god tho, no matter how close you two are, DO NOT surprise cuddle him or any surprise affection of that sorts. despite being pretty soft, hes still an agency member and is always on guard.
i feel like at least once, atsushi was chatting with the you and kyoka and then dazai snuck up to surprise his lil subordinate and got a black eye
its ok he deserved it/j
IDSKDJDNDN anyways omg, he’d love all the affection you’d give him and would always try his best to reciprocate
HE’D ALWAYS ASK FOR CONSENT TOO UUDHSHSJSJ
“*taps shoulder* hi s/o, can i kiss you :0? <3”
in private tho, while he’s drifting to sleep, he’d be wondering ‘am i really deserving to be loved by them? im no good at all, not good enough for them, not good enough to help anyone at all.’
plz do reassure him!! even if it doesn’t get all the intrusive thoughts away, it’d lessen them to the point that he feels that he is allowed to love you and is allowed to be touched and kissed by someone as kind as you <33
#Osamu Dazai
UGH, you’re too adorable for your own good <333
no matter what he’s doing— even if he’s with a government diplomat or interviewing a serial bomber, he’d always return the affection tenfold (bonus if the person he’s with is uncomfy)/HJ
would probably get harassed by kunikida for showing too much PDA in the workplace
“what, kunikida? am i not allowed to kiss and hug my darling s/o? 🙁🙁🙁” “dazai, you were fondling their ass. what do you mean kiss.”
okay but seriously, he’d be so touched that someone as sweet as you would want to give your affections and love to him out of all people
would probably cry about it at night, you’re way too gentle to someone as unforgivably disgusting and vile as him.
‘s/o, they’re so kind, too kind. why would they love me? ive ruined so many peoples’ lives, why would i be rewarded with unconditional love— especially love from them?’
if eventually you’d move in together, expect him to never give you any space. it is a MUST now for you to be on his chest or him on yours. it’s something so plain and simple, but to him, it’s almost like a lifeline. without you—no, he could never imagine how miserable he’d be without your love.
#Chuuya Nakahara
love? yes please!! <33
honestly, he’d just accept them. at first, he’d be a lil uneasy considering his ability. but eventually he’d come around and be much much more affectionate when receiving them <333 (snuggling into your shoulder, grabbing your waist, etc.)
still though, he needs to keep his rep as the scary vessel of arahabaki and would threaten anyone who saw his sweet, almost childlike smile at his s/o
“did my little brother find love? how sweet~…” “verlaine, i swear to fucking god if you tell anyone you saw that 🙁🙁”
is so touch starved, please oh god kiss him, he really needs it. would probably depends on when you met him; he wouldn’t accept love as great as he would in his adulthood when he was 15-16 cause of ykyk…
honestly, physical touch isnt rlly his love language, moreso affirmation and giving gifts but if it’s what his s/o wants then, it’s what they’ll fucking get ‼️‼️‼️ we slay a malewife
i feel like he’d have lots of sleepless nights thinking about whether or not he is the real, human chuuya nakahara or the one that’s 2400 lines of code.
but when he met you, those nights lessened and were replaced with thoughts such as kissing ur cute lil forehead and the moments in life that made him really happy that he was born.
still tho, he thinks you wouldn’t wanna be with a guy who’s record is everyone he cared for dying or leaving haha jk… ‘what if one day, they decide, they dont want to be with someone who doesn’t even have a family? eugh, i wouldnt blame ‘em if they thought so…’
these thoughts would always disappear the moment he saw you curl up on his side, clutching his shirt. dear lord, how could you get even cuter? sure, his life mightve been hell on earth but, if this was what it would come to, he’d do it a hundred times over.
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