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scaredpigeons · 4 months

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Aqua Regia VII: Saturate me, I can’t get enough.

Previous chapter // First Chapter

Neuvillette x Fem!reader

Warning: SMUT NSFW 18+ MDNI

Word count: 5.7k

Conifer forests quake in fear at the way you two pine. What do you get when you cross a very pent up dragon and the object of his affections? So much fucking love it will rot your teeth.

CW: sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (fem rec) neuvillette has a dragon tongue, claws appear but no wounds are made, Neuvillettes nest™️ nicknames: my dearest, my darling, love, pretty girl, perfect girl, very gendered language, im sorry :( unrealistic first time sex, multiple orgasms, implied multiple rounds.

Authors note: this is so fucking mushy gushy heavy fluff heavy romance. I literally couldn’t write his first time being any other way. He’s obsessed, okay? There is a lot of declarations of love, devotion, very flowery and flattering language. There are not many things hotter than an all powerful being declaring their utter devotion to you and then fucking you until the sun rises. I left it a little open ended, so maybe an epilogue chapter, if y’all are interested? Anyways, remember to reblog and comment your thoughts! It’s my literal favourite thing to read your opinions and compliments, even if you’re shy, just send an anon ask! I love you all, thank you so much for your support on this piece.

————————————

The sound of little pearls scattering onto the floor accompanied the press of your spine against the inside of Neuvillette’s front door as his mouth consumed yours.

You were panting, hands roaming over each other as your tongues danced. You’d never kissed like this before. The polite pecks you’ve given men after failed dates were nothing compared to the way Neuvillette drank in your lips like they were the finest water in the world.

His large, lean body pushed you against the fine wood of his door, hands pressing up into your hair as he pulled your face ever closer, scattering more little pearls along his entryway.

“Do you…” he panted, lips never leaving yours for more than necessary. “Truly want tea?” He asked.

You smiled as he continued to kiss you breathless. “Tea can wait.”

He picked you up and hoisted you against him once more, your bottom resting on his forearms as he twirled you around, making you giggle and squeal.

“Your perfection knows no bounds.” He murmured against your lips as he began to move towards the stairs.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you up the stairs and down the hall, but he hesitated before bringing you into what you guessed was his room.

“Ah…” he said, a deeper blush working its way into his pale skin. “I forgot about my… well you see…”

You smiled, pulling him closer to press a peck to his lips. ”What? I can hardly imagine your room is messy, Neuvillette.”

He closed his eyes tight, opening the door to set you down inside. You turned, looking around the room.

A very large four poster bed was the main focal point of the room, lush sheer curtains hanging from the tall frame, making it seem luxurious and inviting. But the piles of silks, pillows and blankets surrounding the mattress making a large circle in the center was what stood out the most to you. Taking a step closer, you could see there were little things scattered throughout the barrier, the gloves you’d gifted him last month, a few shirts and coats, little trinkets and things here and there.

Your brow furrowed before you turned to look up at him, finding him looking between you and the bed with a hand covering the lower half of his face.

“It looks like…” you glanced back at the bed. “It looks like a nest?”

He breathed, nodding, pinching his temples in embarrassment. “When you were last here, we spoke of some subtle changes I’d been experiencing since gaining my full dragonhood, yes?”

You nodded, walking towards the bed to run your hands along the fabrics making up the walls of the nest.

“I’ve been experiencing strange urges, instincts I cannot seem to control no matter how hard I try.” He said lowly, somewhere behind you.

The blanket you ran your hands across was soft, fur of some sort, and it felt so luxurious you wanted to bury your face in it and never leave its soothing embrace.

“Urges?” You said, feeling a heat pool between your thighs at the thought.

“Yes.” His voice was suddenly right by your ear, his heat pressing up against your spine. “For example, right now, seeing you next to my bed, admiring my nest— it makes me want to pick you up and place you within it so that I may crawl over top of you to do deplorable, feral and unspeakable things to you.”

A deep, spine tingling shiver raced through you. You knew the general direction of where this was headed when you begged him to take you to his house, but never in your wildest dreams did you expect Neuvillette to admit something so… dirty… so openly.

You turned, meeting his eyes with a gasp as you came face to face with a version of your leader you’d never seen.

He was flushed, panting, his eyes glowing in the moonlight streaming into his dark room. His horns were glowing too, their blue hue radiating behind him as he loomed over you. To anyone else it might’ve been intimidating, but you felt so safe in this moment, so satisfied to know that he wanted you.

“I…” you wondered how you should phrase this, how to make him understand that you were not put off in the slightest by any of these changes in him. To you, he was still Neuvillette. His draconian quirks made him all the more desirable because it was just another part of him.

“I’d like to help you satisfy those urges, if you’ll let me.” You said, looking up at him through your lashes.

Very suddenly, he dropped to his knees, his hands clutching at your dress. The act startled you, and you stumbled back, bumping into the walls of fabrics lining his nest.

”I am undeserving,” he whimpers, and your legs nearly give out at how broken he sounds in this moment, looking up at you. “I know not how to pleasure you in the way you are so deserving, I only have these instincts, these feelings pushing me to take.”

He stumbled forward, almost blindly on his knees as his eyes kept yours locked to him. He pushes his face closer to your core, inhaling deeply against the fabric of your dress, his eyes fluttering back.

“And you always smell so sweet, it eats at my very soul to not taste you at every moment of every day.” His eyes look like they’re watering, begging and pleading as he keeps talking, keeps sending waves of pleasure to your core with every word spoken.

“You deserve more than this animal I’ve become, but I cannot help that you undo me. You unravel the very stitching that I have woven over these past five hundred years and the thought terrifies me because—“ he’s panting, chest heaving, hands gripping the crushed velvet of your gown. “Because I want you so completely, so entirely. My want for you consumes my very being.”

Your heart sings, because how could it not? You didn’t have very much experience with anything like this either— really none at all. And he was worried? He was worried he was too much? Not enough? This man was the sovereign ruler of a nation. The elemental dragon of your land, a primordial being with more power than you could even begin to fathom.

“Oh, Neuvillette,” you brought a hand to cup his cheek, the very same action you made the last time you were in his home, comforting him. “Will you do something for me?”

He clutched you closer, pupils nearly consuming his irises. “I would drain the seas if you told me you did not favor the way they glimmer in the sunshine. I would blot out the sun if you told me you did not enjoy the heat on your skin. Anything, my dearest. Anything for you.”

“Give in to it.” And you swore you could feel the breath catching in his chest. “Take me and give me everything your heart desires, because I am already yours.”

”Truly?” He pleaded, seeming so small below you.

You nodded, speaking softly to him as you ran your fingertips across his cheekbone. “From the moment I entered your office Neuvillette, I’ve been yours.”

Your world flipped upside down as Neuvillette lunged, tackling you over the wall of his nest and into the bed.

He kissed you so deeply it stole your breath away, you gasped as he pulled back to mouth across your jaw, nipping at your throat.

You noticed his teeth had grown sharper during your fervent kissing, but feeling those teeth drag like little daggers against the delicate skin of your throat made you shiver with something like fear— but it was laced with arousal, with anticipation.

You moaned as he licked and sucked on your neck, and he whimpered above you, clutching your waist as he went.

“I'm sorry, I’m sorry—“ he said between kisses along your skin. “I can’t control myself, I can't—“

You reached up, grabbing his face in your hands, making him look at you.

“Neuvillette, listen to me.” His eyes fluttered between yours, searching.

“When I told you I love you, that means I love you without conditions.” You said, leaning up to kiss his lips gently. “Which means I will love you when you are poise and regal, when you are the perfect gentleman, but I will also love you when you are not.”

You could see iridescent blue scales rising into his skin, framing his eyes so beautifully. You could see them form around his throat, and his horns continued to glow. When he told you he was becoming undone, you knew he was serious, but you didn't realize what exactly that would entail.

He was beautiful. Raw and open and completely yours.

“I will love you even if you are rough, or crude, or selfish. I will not watch you suffer against your instincts when I so desperately wish to see you dive headfirst into them.”

The subtlest of tears formed in his eyes, and the rain continued to batter the windows outside, pouring down around you— the perfect symphony to accompany this moment.

“I love every aspect of you, Neuvillette. Even this. Please,” you whispered, pulling him ever closer to your lips. “Please, just take what you need. Take me.”

———————————

He does not remember how your dress and petticoat managed to find themselves sprawled across his bedroom floor, or when his gloves and shirt followed, but he does remember the delightful squeak you gave when he tore them from your body.

You were shy, of course you were— but he was having none of that, gently and selfishly pinning your arms against the bed as his eyes consumed your body, your naked skin.

You squirmed and whimpered underneath him, and part of Neuvillette worried that you weren’t enjoying yourself— but the closer he came to your lower half the more he realized that the source of that mouthwatering smell was coming from between your legs, and his mouth did indeed water.

You had told him to let go of his restraint, to give in, but he had the sense to keep part of himself in check, knowing he needed to be somewhat gentle, attentive to your needs.

What knowledge he did have of this process was from books, and even then, he thinks the last time he read a romance novel was likely over a century ago.

He knew basic anatomical structures, their functions, but putting it all into practice was another thought entirely.

Through his lust filled haze of admiring your naked body, he swallowed the drool pooling in his mouth— so barbaric.

“Tell me,” he panted. “Tell me how to make this pleasurable for you.”

You were so red, it fluttered down to your chest, and he watched as your breasts heaved with each breath. He wanted to wrap his lips around them, suck on the delicate skin, so he did.

You whined as he leaned down, and he loved the feeling of your hands mussing up his hair, pulling his golden circlet away and tossing it into the void that had captured the rest of your clothes with a clattering sound.

“You, ah—” your breaths were heavy. “You have to work me open. So you don’t tear me.”

He gripped your waist again, licking and sucking gracelessly across your chest, just enjoying the taste of your skin.

“How?” He asked, tonguing his way down to your navel, slipping his tongue around the skin of your adorable stomach. Your skin tasted like pure relief, calming the aching fever inside of him one motion of his tongue at a time.

“F-fingers?” You said, looking down at his hands. He looked too, and you both seemed to notice at the same time that his hands weren’t exactly… normal anymore.

Those pesky scales had wound up coating his hands too, he could feel them aching around his eyes and throat, his nails forming long black claws that dragged the faintest red lines along your perfect skin.

“Hah— yeah,” you breathed a panicked laugh, making his chest flutter with anxiety. “Maybe no fingers this time.”

“What about my tongue?” He said, looking between your eyes and the apex of your thighs. He wanted so desperately to make this good for you, but he couldn't deny that the thought of tasting that delicious smell directly from the source was a more than appetizing idea.

You groaned, throwing your hands up to cover your flushed face. “You say it so casually, too—“

“Would you enjoy it if I used my tongue, darling?”

He watched your thighs clench the best they could with him between your legs, and your hands started shaking.

“Yes,” you whimpered, hands still covering your heated face. “Yes please.”

Your thighs quivered as he shifted down, his nostrils flaring as he came face to face with your covered core.

There was a small damp spot on the soft cotton covering you, and he brought his nose directly to it, inhaling deep and groaning as you whined.

He was truly drooling now, and the desire to taste you became too overwhelming for him to wait any longer.

The cotton was shredded off your body in delicate ribbons in the wake of his claws, but before you could react, his tongue was already swiping over the entire length of you.

“Oh!” Your back arched sinfully off the bed, your hands gripping into his hair as he swallowed and sucked and licked over you. You tasted like perfection. No water in the world could taste as crisp and pure as you did— like sweet ambrosia, like everything he never knew he needed until now.

He tongued over your clitoris, and you seemed to like that the most, keening out as he increased the pressure. But you said you needed to be worked open, which meant…

He pressed his tongue lower, circling it around your twitching hole. You jumped, your nails scraping his scalp— making him moan into you. Your fingers flexed around the base of his horns, and his whole body shuddered as he listened to you whine and keen.

He pressed in then, eyes blowing wide as a warm, tight heat enveloped the tip of his tongue. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further, pulling himself closer to press more of himself inside you.

”Neuvillette!” You gasped out as he pushed in further. Even so, He couldn't help but feel like it wasn’t enough, like you needed more.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, his tongue seemed to expand, thickening and rolling out into your twitching walls even further. He’d never felt a change like that before, but he kept going, moving and undulating it within your tight heat and savoring the taste of you so deep.

”Holy—“ you screeched, “Oh my Archons!”

A deep, chest rumbling growl reverberated from where Neuvillette was pressed into your core, and even though he knew it wasn’t truly a problem, something inside him did not enjoy hearing those words slip from your precious lips.

But you told him to let go, so he truly did lean into his instincts.

He pulled his tongue from within you, letting its new length dangle from his mouth a bit before licking up all the slick that had smeared across his face, delighted at the way your eyes popped and your mouth gaped open.

“There are no pathetic gods here, little one.” He growled, that primal aching welling up in his chest. “Only me.”

“N-Neuvillette,” you stuttered, hands grabbing at his hair as you tried to pull him between your legs again. “Please—“

“Better.”

He dove back in, using the new length of his tongue to thrust in and out of your dripping hole. He could feel your soft walls relaxing, and a deep, rumbling purr pulled from his chest as you writhed and moaned beneath him.

Tasting you like this, feeling you move and cry out beneath his hold… it was slowly soothing the ache inside of him that had been tormenting him for months. He could feel himself twitching in his pants, his cock pressing against the confines as it leaked all over the fine material of his pants and briefs.

In the back of his mind, he was grateful he had enough of a grip on his form to not be sporting one of his more… alarming draconic features, surely that would frighten you far too much to continue. Well, perhaps another time.

He continued his thrusting, working you open and relishing in the wetness coating his tongue, in the way you cried out his name, your fingertips brushing against his horns as you pulled at his hair. It only served to make him drool more, soaking you even further.

“Neuvillette—“ you keened as he arched his tongue upwards, feeling your walls clench and quiver around him. He repeated the motion, making you slap your hands down to the bed beside you, grasping at the sheets as your eyes popped wide.

He continued to press against the spot that seemed to make you fall deeper into your pleasure, his eyes never leaving your face as he thrust his tongue with vigor, watching as you quivered.

Yes, something inside him purred, watching you lose yourself. Keep going, take it from her.

He felt the moment your walls tightened so completely that he thought something might be wrong— only to watch as your face shattered into a broken sob of pure delight, your whole body twitching as you cried out. Your thighs tried to clamp around his head, but he pressed further, working you through it with his writhing tongue.

After a few moments of him working you through the height of your pleasure, you grasped at his hair again, only now you were pushing him back, gasping as your body violently twitched.

“Too much—“ you squeaked. “T-too much!”

He pulled back from you, licking your remaining juices from his lips as he watched you regain your breath.

You threw an arm over your eyes, your every breath heaving in your chest as parts of your body twitched in the aftershocks.

He crawled over your body, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he purred and murmured against your skin to comfort you.

”Your taste is divine,” he whispered. “Better than I ever could have dreamed, and my dreams were always drenched in your image.”

“I—“ you sighed, finally pulling air into your chest unlabored. “I dream of you too.”

“Oh?” He purred, smiling against your skin as he ran his hands down your arms. “And what exactly do you dream of, dearest?”

You smiled, staring up at the ceiling and avoiding his gaze with flushed cheeks.

“Your eyes.” You whispered, glancing down at him. “I dream of the way you look at me.”

———————

You knew this was going to be a lot.

Neuvillette is not a small man by any stretch of the imagination, but you always figured he would at least be a reasonable size — whatever that may be.

Clearly your expectations were a little on the small side, because when he unbuttoned his trousers, pulling them down and off his body, exposing his naked skin in all its glory, your eyes ached with how wide they were staring openly at the apex of his creamy white thighs.

Flushed a ruddy purplish red at the tip, it was literally leaking as he knelt between your spread legs. It twitched—he must’ve noticed your staring, and you chewed on your bottom lip, wondering how in all the abyss you were supposed to fit that thing inside of you.

Neuvillette was panting. He looked irrevocably desperate, like he was ready to burst at the seams at any moment.

“Neuvillette,” you whimpered, spreading your thighs further for him.

He hadn’t touched you since he took his pants off, just staring down at you as you drank him in, watching your reactions.

“Are…” he seemed strained, like the words themselves pained him. “Are you sure?”

“Please,” you whined. “Please, inside me, I want you inside.”

He seemed to bite back a groan, eyes roaming over your soaked core, your blush traveling down your chest. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your lips.

It was delicate, loving, nothing like the unrestrained devouring before, but it still seemed like he was holding himself back. A beautiful bowstring pulled taut, ready to snap.

“Neuvillette,” you murmured against his lips. “Please, I want it. I trust you, I want you, please.”

Your pleading seemed to stir him, and you could feel the hot press of his length against your aching hole. You didn't know what it would feel like, the anticipation making you tense up and hold your breath.

“Breathe, my love.” Neuvillette said, though he himself was shaking as his hands held him up above you. “Relax, breathe.”

You released a breath and the tension from your spine, melting into the pillows as he chose that moment to breach your entrance, the slick pooling out of you allowing him to slide the crown in with no resistance.

You keened, your back arching as you felt the first push. “Ah, fuck! Fuck!”

Neuvillette was still shaking, his voice quivering and yet he still found it within himself to chuckle, low and deep as his eyes fluttered across your face, drinking in your pleasured reactions.

“Such vulgar language,” he breathed. “Where’d my polite little assistant go?”

You swear your eyes were about to bulge out of your skull as he pushed another inch in, slowly, his body vibrating above you in restraint.

It wasn’t hurting, but the stretch was so intense it was turning your brain into mush. You never swear in front of Neuvillette, gods, you never curse in front of anyone but Wriothesley, but your brain seems to short circuit as Neuvillette enters your body one delicious inch at a time.

You were thankful you told him to stretch you out, thankful for that gods forsaken tongue that just came out of nowhere, long and thick and surprisingly serpentine.

“P-politeness isn’t really…” you tossed your head back in the blankets as he sunk in further. “Isn’t really my main focus… r-right now.”

“Ah, yes.” Neuvillettes words spoke confidence, but his voice was shaking, his arms vibrating as they held him above you. “We have more pressing things to focus on at the moment, don’t we?”

You groaned, half in embarrassment at his wordplay and half at the way he pulled out a bit just to press back in further.

He just licked up the column of your throat, that ridiculously long tongue making your whole body shiver in delight as he pressed in further.

“Holy f—“ you grabbed his forearms, leaning up the best you could to look down at where your bodies were connected. “How much more is there? It’s so… so…”

Your stomach flipped at how much you still had to go, how little your brain could comprehend that this weapon was supposed to fit inside you.

“Do you need me to stop, my darling? Is it too much for you?” Neuvillette breathed against your neck. His words spoke one thing, but it was like his body was screaming for you to say anything but.

“No!” You panicked a bit, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him against your lips, kissing him filthy. “Please, don’t stop.”

It took a couple more minutes of gentle thrusting, the rough texture of this thumb swirling against your throbbing clit and some very messy kisses, but when his hips finally pushed flush against yours, your eyes rolled back in your head, mind finally vacating all thought in favor focusing on how blindingly full you felt.

“Oh,” Neuvillette breathed. “—My darling. My sweet, sweet girl.” His hips were frozen, probably taking in how you clenched around him, because you could feel it— the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around his length as he remained motionless.

He twitched, and you keened, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring his face level with yours, panting into his mouth. “Please,” you whined. “Please move.”

He shuddered before hesitantly bringing his hips back, watching your every breath as he pressed forward again.

The deep, guttural moan it pulled from your chest must have flipped some kind of switch within him, because all sense of hesitancy seemed to drain from his body as his hips began a desperate rhythm, smacking against yours.

“Ah!” Your back arched, eyes rolling into your skull as he finally, finally fucked you. “Neuvi— Neuvillette!”

His eyes seemed glazed over with emotions, looking down at you with so much wonder. His expression was strained, breaths coming short as his hands snaked down to your hips, leaning back up and away from your grip.

The change in angle, though minuscule, drastically altered the way his cock pummeled your insides. It was intense before, your mind was nearly floating in the clouds— but now his cock bullied itself along your most sensitive spot and pressed so deep within you, you were sure you could nearly taste it.

”Perfect,” he breathed. “My perfect, perfect girl. So warm and tight— it's like you were made to take me.”

Your brain had exited the atmosphere, and was now drifting away into the deep nothingness of space. You swore you could feel your orgasm welling in the pit of your core, making your legs shake where they were perched on Neuvillettes hips.

“It— it feels so good,” your words were starting to slur, your vision hazy with unshed tears of pure ecstasy as you blinked up at him. “I n-never— I never wanna stop. I want this forever.”

His hips never faltered, not even once as he shuddered and groaned, the sound making you clench down around him even more. His hands gripped your waist tighter, the black claws digging into your skin, sure to leave marks.

A possessive sort of noise rumbled from his chest, his eyes flaring with need.

“I’ll give you all of myself until the end of time,” he murmurs, voice full of deep, rasping need. “Tell me you’re mine, I’ll give you everything.”

Your heart welled, your eyes blinking tears as your legs shook harder.

“I’m yours,” you cried. “I love you, Neuvillette. I’m yours.”

He pushed at your legs, hands grabbing your thighs to press them up and forward, nearly folding you in half as you sobbed out in pleasure. Your body ached, your orgasm now on the very precipice as he managed to fuck into you even deeper than before, and you didnt know how it was possible.

“Again.” He growled.

“I’m yours!” You keened.

His hands pressed harder into your thighs, his face leaning closer to yours. Through your haze, you could see how his pupils were blown wide, consuming all of his otherworldly irises. You could see how deeply he looked at you, drinking in your trembling form.

“Mine.” He whispered.

And that was all it took for the fraying cord inside you to snap.

You screamed into the darkness of his room, writhing and shaking as it pulsed through you, all consuming and more intense than anything you’d ever felt in your life. He gasped, muttering something in a language you didn't recognize as his hips stuttered. He pushed you through it, the mind melting pleasure pulsing out into your limbs, making you go limp into the bed.

His eyes were wild, and his pace slowed, hands holding onto you like you would slip away if he didn’t.

“My love,” he moaned, desperate as the fluttering aftershocks worked through you, your body twitching in the sensitive overstimulation. “My love, I want to— I need—“

“Inside me,” your voice cracked, hoarse from how loud you’d been in your revelry, but it only seemed to spur him on. “Please, inside me.”

And within the last three stuttering strokes, he was gone, his forehead pressing into yours as he leaned forward and moaned, long and wrecked and obscene. It made you flutter around him, milking him absolutely dry as he filled and filled and filled you.

You could feel it, hot and heavy— each jerk of him inside you coating you further, marking you in white, in the deepest places as his.

He was mumbling, his face moving to press into the curve of your neck and shoulder. Dazed, you couldn’t tell what he was saying— whether he was speaking in another language or if you were just too out of it to register his words.

You lifted an arm to rest on his back, feeling the heat and the sweat of him. Unfazed, you drag your hand up and down his shoulder blades, relishing in the feeling of his skin, his breath as he murmurs against your neck.

As your breath finally steadied in your lungs, no longer struggling, you ran your hands through his long, luscious hair, fingertips ghosting his horns.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said aloud, clear and in a language you understood. “I’m sorry.”

”What for?” You smiled, trying to get him to look at you. When you finally pried him from the crook of your shoulder, your heart skipped a beat at how flushed he still was, how guilty he looked.

It was then that you realized he was still inside you, still hard as before, twitching and throbbing as he held himself above you.

“You begged me to take you,” he breathed, clawed hands pulling at the sheets. “And I can’t help but crave more.”

————————————

The sun had just begun rising over the dewy cypress trees by the time Neuvillette sat in the warm bath, cradling you in his arms.

You twitched and groaned in displeasure as he ran the washcloth along your heated skin, but he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of pride at the marks scattered along your body.

He’d been too afraid to hurt you, but after the moan you let out when his teeth accidentally scraped across your collarbone during the second round, (or was it the third?) he’d lost all sense of decency. You seemed to like them as well, and you certainly liked when he ran his tongue across the red and purple splotches to soothe them. So, c’est la vie.

Your head lolled against his shoulder, you were barely conscious at this point, and he wanted to feel guilty, he really did. But you’d begged and begged and begged for him to take what he needed, how could he refuse?

He pulled the glass bottle he’d brought from the cooler to your lips, stirring you a bit to prompt you to drink.

“Please, my love. You need to rehydrate.” He smiled at the way you pouted, But opened your lips to take tentative sips anyways, your eyes still closed.

He watched a trail of water slip past your lax lips and run down your chin and throat, his eyes carefully following the movement. He swallowed deeply, willing away the erection that was still threatening the dark corners of his willpower.

He could honestly keep going, he couldn't get enough of you, but you were still so fragile, so incredibly mortal. He knew that he had to stop, give you a moment of reprieve. Force himself to behave until your sweet voice would sing to him again, begging him for more. He licked his lips at the thought.

“Are… are your urges… satisfied?” You mumbled as he pulled the bottle away. You cuddled up to him, so sleepy.

He thought very carefully on how to reply to you.

“For now, yes. They are, darling.” He finally said. “But I believe I will always desire you as strongly as I did then— as I do now, still.”

You gave a sleepy smirk, your eyes still closed as you snuggled closer to him, your bare skin pressed so beautifully against his.

This— this was perfect. He didn't think anything else could compare to the feeling of being inside you, so connected to your body and in tune with your emotions. But this… being with you, holding you and caring for you… it was just as beautiful. His heart felt full, and for the first time in months, he didn’t feel restless.

“I meant what I said, you know.” He said, kissing the top of your head.

You sighed wistfully. “Which part? Because when you said you were going to ‘spend the rest of your existence finding new ways to make me shatter into millions of delicious little pieces,’ I was rather inclined to believe you.”

He felt his cheeks heat a little. “Ah, well. I meant all of that too. But I’m referring to something I said earlier on in the evening.”

Your voice was wavering, and he could see sleep pulling at you, tugging you into its embrace one sleepy blink at a time. “Which part, my love?”

His chest still fluttered at those words, despite both of your endless proclamations of devotion and love last night, he was still so blissful at the prospect of being yours, of you being his. His love.

“The bit where I told you that I would give you all of me until the end of time. That I’ll give you everything.”

“Mm,” you said, eyes closed and words loose. “I know.”

He ran his hands along your back, his skin finally calmed down closer to the end of the night, his scales and claws retracting and freeing his fingers for nefarious purposes. But now, he was enjoying feeling your smooth skin against his own.

“I have things I must do, duties to this realm beyond that of my role as Iudex. It will be a long and perilous road, a road uneasy for myself and those I love. But in this, as in every other aspect of my life— I feel as though if you stood beside me, it would lighten the burden. You make every part of my life better, and I would be honored to have you beside me for the rest of time.”

He wasn’t sure how, but if he could free the people of Fontaine from their curse, surely he could find a way to keep you with him, if you so wished.

“Your voice is pretty,” you sighed. “I love you,” you were mumbling, and he realized you were already rather deep in the clutches of sleep, likely not even hearing a word he’d said.

He smiled, breathing out a sigh as he kissed the top of your head once more.

“Sleep well, my darling.”

La Fin.

—————————————————————

Authors Note: remember to drop a comment with your thoughts! I love you guys so much 🖤

#genshin impact #genshin impact neuvillette #neuvillette #neuvillette smut #neuvilette x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x reader smut #fem reader #neuvillette fluff #genshin impact smut

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evilwickedme · 9 days

Note

I keep seeing news that Israel has rejected a ceasefire deal from Hamas and/or that Hamas has rejected a ceasefire deal from Israel, and I'm having a very hard time keeping up with what's true, what terms have been rejected by who, and how ceasefire negotiations have been going in general. Do you have any information you could share or sources you could direct me to that would give this kind of news in an unbiased way? I think that saying that either side rejected a deal without explaining what parts of the terms were not agreed with is dishonest and I hate that I keep seeing it.

Thanks and I hope you're well and safe.

I'm not going to source this with anything specific cause my job is in the news so I'm just doing this off the cuff while literally on the bus there lmao

Both sides are in fact constantly rejecting ceasefire deals, for their own reasons. Some scattered thoughts from the last several months of coverage

One of the biggest points is ending the war. Hamas keeps going back and forth on this but is mostly insisting that even for the first, humanitarian stage of the hostage/ceasefire deal Israel must agree to take out all of its troops and essentially leave Hamas to remain the ruling party in the Gaza strip

This is essentially the only hard no on Israel's side. Netanyahu especially refuses to end the war without a military victory that essentially is impossible to get without entering Rafah (and in my opinion is currently impossible to achieve at all). There is a willingness to pause the war in exchange for the hostages up to a certain degree, but there simply isn't a chance that Israel is going to give up on defeating the remaining Hamas military divisions in Rafah and hopefully killing Sinwar

A lot of the problem is that Hamas will present a deal that Israel finds unacceptable, Israel will take time to deliberate, come up with a middle ground, and then Hamas will actually make a worse offer in return. A lot of things that Israel is currently putting on the table were things Hamas originally requested and was willing to be on those terms, but now they want things that are even further from Israel's interests.

For example, at first Hamas was asking for women and children to be allowed to go back to northern Gaza. Now they are asking for the entire civilian population to return to northern Gaza... And for Israel to not even check that no Hamas agents are going back up north, where there are still many rocket launchers that were never found. Personally I would like that not to happen, as I would like rockets to not be launched at me. Maybe that's a lot to ask, idk

Another example is the fact that at first Hamas asked for a certain number of terrorists to be freed, but that about a third of them (iirc) would be picked by Hamas, with no veto power given to Israel. The offer currently on the table gives Israel no veto power at all, and unlike the deal from November where Israel only freed terrorists who failed to kill anyone, this time Israel will be required to pretty much exclusively free murderers.

The truth is Hamas has very little interest in a hostage deal. They don't want the terrorists in Israeli prisons as much as we want the hostages that are, according to current intelligence, being used as human shields, many of them surrounding Sinwar at all times. The first hostage deal led to humanitarian aid being brought into Gaza, which due to Israeli negligence has been taken over by Hamas; aid is being increased (although not enough) with no "return on investment" so to speak for Israel.

(sidenote: yes, there is not enough aid entering Gaza. Also, a lot of the aid is being taken by Hamas officials, with the remains being sold at outrageous prices to the refugees. Shit is bad from all directions here)

Meanwhile, the IDF has essentially pulled all its soldiers out of Gaza. There are currently only two military divisions in Gaza iirc, and they're mostly just staying there with not much happening. The current attack on Rafah is "small scale", and comes as a direct result of rockets being shot at south Israel on Sunday, resulting in several people being grievously injured. Overall, not much military action is happening, meaning that, for example, agreeing to cease military activities in Gaza is relatively unimportant to Hamas rn (emphasis on to Hamas).

And another truth is netanyahu ALSO doesn't want a ceasefire. The moment this war ends the public will demand an election (hell, a THIRD of the public is demanding an election NOW, before the end of the war), and he has lost many of his more casual voters. He will be forced out of the government either by his party or by the voters, and netanyahu wants power over all else, fuck the hostages.

He doesn't WANT to answer for his actions in front of his citizens. It's no coincidence that he is willing to be interviewed by the foreign press but no Israeli papers or channels; it's no coincidence that he refuses to allow the Israeli negotiators to come up creative solutions, instead giving them extreme restrictions. And his absolute refusal to even acknowledging the possible existence of a future Palestinian state is going to fuck Israel over in unimaginable ways

In short, fuck Hamas, fuck Netanyahu and the current extreme right wing government, #bringthemhome #freegazafromhamas and #ceasefirenow

As usual, I recommend a mix of Haaretz, the NYT, and the wall street journal as my favorite although never unbiased journalism on i/p. It is so important that we all understand that nobody is unbiased about any political issue, including me, and especially not about Israel and Palestine. It is an extremely charged subject that is best parsed out by reading from a variety of sources, and always noting that if something is only quoted or referenced by sources from one "side", it's frankly probably not true.

I hope for the best, and may this nightmare end as soon as possible

#i/p #jew tag #gail speaks #ask #3rdsday

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natailiatulls07 · 4 months

Note

could i request some leclerc!reader and so comfort with charles please

It's okay

Arthur Leclerc Charles Leclerc Lorenzo Leclerc Pascale Leclerc & Leclerc!reader

Summary - In order to find her way in life, Y/n Leclerc runs away in the dead of night only leaving a note

Warning - neglection, running away

Growing up with three older brothers and two of such competing in karting competions, life was hard for Y/n Leclerc. Pascale and Hervé invested lots of their money and energy into Arthur and Charles.

When she was seven, Y/n's interest in ballet started. The young girl had her heart set on being a professional ballerina. So thats what she did. Y/n convince Pascale to enrol her in ballet class.

From then on, she became more and more talented. Quickly becoming the top of class. Yet when recitals came round and she was the lead, the only person who came to watch was Lorenzo.

The rest of the family were out at karting competitions cheering on Charles and Arthur. Yes they would apolgise to Y/n for their absence but to her it never really felt quite right.

Y/n was 14 years old, life got harder. Karting turned to formula 2 and E. Lorenzo now building his own life, he moved out of the house.

And the worst of all, Hervé Leclerc passed away. This meant attention was limited, Pascale was busy. She had her salon to run, she was running around supporting the two boys racing and she was mourning the lose of her partner.

As much as he wanted to support Y/n during her recitals, Lorenzos life became busier and he could no longer come along each recital. She felt as though no one her family could see her or her talent.

So what did she do? Y/n collected enough money to enrol herself into a ballet academy. In the dead of night she packed just enough and left without a sound. Of course she couldn't leave without leaving a note, she loved her family.

Dear Maman, Charlie and Arthur, I love you all dearly, please don't worry about me. I will be gone for a while, Lo Lo knows where I will be but please do not pester him. Thank you for everything and more Love from your dearest daughter, Y/n xx

Y/n Leclerc was a sensation, one of the best of her age. She was a household name, even if you weren't that well educated on ballet you knew who this elegant women was.

However, it was rare for the ballerina to speak publicily, Espercially as many would ask of her surname and family relations. And it wasn't hard to understand why.

"So Y/n please tell me, any relation to formula one driver Charles Leclerc?"

"No comment, thank you"

Charles, Arthur, Pascale and Lorenzo watched on, following her social media through burner accounts not wanting to make this harder for Y/n.

They could see how she spent most of her time dancing, spending time to herself or getting cocktails with friends she made along the way.

yourusername

Week in my life...

Spending time alone, you must prioritize self care

Fruit cocktails with friends, the key to my heart

Looking after the minis, they're the cutest little things

Lounging on my sofa after a long day of rehearsals, it is tiring!

Liked by cl_2648749 and 146,283 others

comments are limited

username Gorg gorg girlie

cl_2648749 <3

username I so wanna be her friend omfggg

But she wasn't stupid, Y/n knew who those burner accounts were. Every single post, the burner accounts were there front and center. She felt their eyes on her, it was silly really but she constantly felt like they were watching her.

However, Y/n felt warm with that in mind. Like they were finally noticing her for the first time. No longer was she fighting for the attension with her two older brothers. But was it just online? If she were to go back, would it go back to how it was before.

Plus she had built up a life on ballet. Y/n made a family with her friends. Everyone knew her, fuck she is a household name hiding her Leclerc identity from the world, even herself.

"I think it's a good idea! It's been long overdue in my opinion"

"No. We need to work to her choices, not make her uncomfortable."

"Okay when?!" Charles throws his arms in the air with frustration. He was pacing in front of the television; Arthur, Pascale and Lorenzo all sat on the sofa watching him.

The topic of Y/n came up in passing by Arthur and it became much more. Charles was fighting, he was desperate to get his dear little sister back home. However Lorenzo, knowing how Y/n felt about everything, was fighting back and trying to prioritize her feelings.

The constant pacing stopped abruptly, and Charles turned to look at Lorenzo with a harsh glare. "Why do you want to so desperately work to her choices? Are you in contact with her?" You could hear a penny drop.

Eyes snapped over to the oldest boy, all confused and harsh. Lorenzo sunk into himself. "I um..." He took a deep breath before continuing. "Yeah um so I kept contact with her yes"

"Is she okay?" The first question Pascale asked. Years of guilt plagued her mind, she neglected her own daughter and she was now paying the price for that.

Lorenzo nodded. "Yes, she's okay...Y/n she um built up a family through her friends and as you know she is doing well for herself..." A small proud smile morphed onto his face, he was proud of her for doing this for herself.

"Does she hate us for what we did?"

He breathed in and out. "No, she doesn't hate any of us...she understands completely..." That did ease some guilt for the other three, it would of killed them to know that she hated them, her own family.

There was silence for a couple of minutes whilst they all fell into their own thoughts. And then Pascale spoke up again. "Can you at least text her or call her whatever...talk to her, please tell her that we love her and that we want to see her again...we're so so proud and sorry"

Arthur and Charles both nodded in agreement. "I'll see what I can do..." Lorenzo promised.

It seemed that the next time they would see Y/n would come round much soon than expected. It wasn't planned, totally sporadic.

Charles was in the kitchen, in Lorenzos apartment. He was scrolling through his phone when there was a ring coming from Lorenzos phone. "Lorenzo! Your phone, it's ring!" Looking over the driver read the name.

Y/n

He knew it was wrong to answer the call, but it felt right like this would do something so he did. Charles picked up the phone and answer.

Before he could speak the voice he missed so dear filled his ear, yet it was panicked and he could hear uneven breathing.

"Lo I'm sorry please, I came back to Monte C but uh um the paps they um oh my god I can't breathe they keep following me! Please please I don't- I don't know where to go!" He missed her voice, granted it for much more mature and wiser now, he still missed it.

Though he was entranced by the situation, now very concerned. "It's okay, it's okay" His mind was on speed mode, much like it was in the car. "Send me the location, I'll come and collect you"

Y/n's voice came out calmer and confused now. "Cha...is that you?"

Charles nodded his head before realising she couldn't see him. "Yeah um it is Cha, I'm on my way" He rushed down to his ferrari.

Pulling up to her location, his heart clenched. Y/n had grown so much since he had last seen her, she had grown into herself and looked alot like Pascale now.

Charles climbed out of his car, walking over to her and collided her into a bone crushing hug. "Oh chérie, je suis vraiment désolé..." Oh darling, I'm so sorry

Tears soaked his shoulder, the whole chaos of the day and reuniting with her older brother weighing down on Y/n had finally toppled off completely.

She couldn't speak, just hung onto him. That long time spent away from her family catching up to her. "It's okay...it's okay..." Charles whispered in her ear.

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seuonji · 8 months

Text

彡 my heart is beating for two. — yoon jeonghan

part 1 ๑ part 2 ๑ part 3

notes ๑ daycare worker yn! x secretary jeonghan — jeonghan becomes fond of the daycare worker he met the other day, seems like fate is on his side through this journey, or is it?

genre ๑ fluff, new interest, mutual pining.

warnings ๑ profanity

word count ๑ 1.4k

from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3

“we’re homee!” jeonghan walked into his boss’s office with yuna in his arms. he had yuna’s small sparkly pink bag slung around his shoulder and his hair was messy and hair strands covered the front of his eyes, courtesy of yuna playing with it. he honestly looked like a struggling single mother and seungcheol was humoured by the view.

“yuna!” seungcheol squatted and opened his arms. jeonghan quickly placed yuna down as she started to move around in excitement from seeing her father. she ran towards him with the same opens arms and wrapped them around him.

“thank you jeonghan, so sorry to trouble you with this, i can’t thank you enough,” seungcheol looked up to his secretary with doe eyes.

“it’s no worries, it’s my job to follow your orders, don’t be afraid to ask me to go again,” the secretary replied as he flopped onto the couch seungcheol had in his office.

seungcheol perked his head up, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. seungcheol has known jeonghan for years and they’re actually pretty close so he knows what tasks jeonghan likes and dislikes. one of those tasks jeonghan disliked was undertaking tasks irrelevant to the main job. seungcheol knew his secretary found those tasks unreasonable. one time jeonghan was told to make orders for a party that didn’t have anything to do anything with the company and he very much remained sour for the rest of the week due to the hassle it was.

for someone with a mere position of being a secretary, he sure had string opinions. lucky for him, people seemed to let it slide.

jeonghan of course, always complied, it’s his job to follow what seungcheol says but he never hides his disdain for activities he isn’t fond of.

“really?” seungcheol titlted his head. seungcheol was sure this would be one of the tasks jeonghan was to dislike but perhaps since it was for someone he cared about, yuna, it was okay.

“…it’s my job?” the secretary ogled his eyes to his boss, confused on why he’d say that.

seungcheol bit his lip and his eyebrows pinched together hesitating to ask more. it’s not like it was a big deal but there must’ve been something interesting on why he’d be okay with going back but maybe he was just overthinking it.

“you’re right,” seungcheol laughed before dismissing his secretary, “well, i’ll be leaving soon. again, thank you for earlier. drive safe on the road alright?”

jeonghan nodded in response and said goodbye as he left the room.

seungcheol organised his desk and collected his things getting ready to leave. “how was daycare yuna,” he smiled making conversation with his daughter.

“fun!” she answered excitedly.

“what did you do?”

“i played with yn also they read a book to me today!”

“you really like yn huh?” seungcheol chuckled walking towards the exit as yuna followed.

“of course!”

he smiled at the pure child joy portrayed in front of his eyes. he’s happy he found a great daycare for his daughter to be at.

“that’s weird, even uncle jeonghan asked me if i like yn, who wouldn’t like yn?” yuna asked genuinely.

seungcheol stopped his steps in the middle of the hallway and his head shifted to yuna.

“what do you mean?”

“uncle jeonghan asked me if i liked yn, of course i do! how can you not like yn, you like yn too right dad?“ yuna of course asked in the platonic sense but that last part caught him off guard—

“when did jeonghan ask that?”

“just after we left earlier!”

seungcheol looked up to the ceiling and thought for a second.

what were the chances that his secretary is interested in you?

it was low honestly, however it was high at the same time! you two have known each other for what, 5 minutes? then again, jeonghan showed interest in returning to the daycare. moreover, he acknowledged someone working there, even asking a 6 year old about them? that meant something, seungcheol would know.

seungcheol continued walking and laughed under his breath. this is fun.

ah. how did it turn out like this.

you stood at the reception table almost frozen by the sight.

“yn!” yuna skipped into the building.

“yuna! hello, nice to see you today,” you greeted while taking her bag off her.

you glanced at the man who escorted her and again, his pretty face raised your heartbeat.

you inhaled deeply calming yourself down, “yuna, you can go inside first, i need to take care of something here,” you instructed as you opened the fence door to let her in.

“bye yuna,” jeonghan waved.

she went in and now it was just the two of you.

“hi mr.yoon,” you casually spoke and walked back to the computer at reception to mark yuna present.

“hi yn and please, just call me jeonghan,” he insisted with a kind smile.

you grinned and nodded, “mr.choi’s busy again?”

“yea, it was really sudden,” jeonghan squinted his eyes recalling how he ended up here. he wasn’t expecting to pay a visit today either.

—

a bit earlier…

“hey jeonghan, i’m so sorry but i’m going to need you to bring yuna to daycare today,” seungcheol informed as his eyes didn’t leave the papers on his desk.

“what?” jeonghan furrowed just eyebrows.

“schedules been busy so i can’t go. yuna’s bag is already prepared i just need you to bring her to daycare and make sure you walk inside with her. is that alright?”

jeonghan cleared his throat, “uhm, yea of course.”

—

jeonghan didn’t even organise his boss’s schedule to make him that busy. he was actually thinking about starting his plans next week, but somehow, things were in his favour.

“well thanks for bringing yuna, who’s going to pick her up later?”

jeonghan pursed his lips, could be him if he really tried, “i’ll have to get back to you on that.”

“oh alright, i’ll just call mr.choi then—“

“better you just have my number,” he spoke quickly which cut you off.

he struggled to get something from his pocket, “seungcheol been busy so best you contact his trusty secretary first,” he pulled out a mildly crumpled business card in his hand, giving it to you.

he’d been pinching it throughout the ride to the daycare wondering if he should give it to you or not. but he gave it cause what was the big deal? it was for the convenience. it’s not like it meant anything, it’s a business card, it’s for business matters.

“just call the number on the card or email me! but i don’t think i’ll see it until like, next month,” he said as he pointed to parts of the card.

you laughed at his wit and took the card in your hands, “thanks, it’ll definitely be a phone call that’s for sure.”

he laughed at the way you returned his energy, “hope to see you later yn.”

your heart dropped at his words but you didn’t take it to heart, “hope to see you as well?” you said with hesitance.

you two parted ways and he left the daycare with the same smile he had yesterday, only it was wider. there was really something about you that made him want to just grab a chair and talk to you for hours.

meanwhile, you were seated on the old, half-broken reception chair with jeonghan’s business card in your hands. you held back your excitement, gosh you had the number of the boy that kept you up last night.

but reality washed over you too quickly. you sighed and placed the card down, it was only a business number.

but hell did it feel like a step forward.

you glanced at the clock. it was almost 6, almost time for yuna to leave.

all of your co workers had clocked out and all the kids but yuna went home.

you were currently reading her a story book but since she skipped nap time, she was starting to doze off. you softly pinched her cheek yet she was still in the same state.

soon 6:30 came, by now seungcheol would’ve sent a message apologising and saying he was on his way, but there was nothing.

was it a sign to call him?

you scratched your head and looked at yuna. she was laying on one of the mattresses to catch up on some energy.

you slowly got up and went to find the business card.

once you found it, you quickly typed it into your phone immediately calling it. as soon as it connected, you placed your phone to your ear,

“beep, the number you have dialled can’t be reached. please try again.”

you furrowed your eyebrows but tried again. this time you even placed his name and added it to your contacts.

“beep, the number you have dialled can’t be reached. please try again.”

well shit.

#—my heart is beating for two y.j #🐚☆#📢aya wrote!#caratsland #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan drabble #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen drabble #svt x reader #svt #svt imagines #svt fluff #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x y/n #yoon jeonghan x reader

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thefandomdirtymind · 7 months

Note

Hello! I saw your post you're open for a request and I was wondering if I could I have OPLA Sanji?

About Sanji fall in love towards reader but reader was hesitate and unsure if Sanji is being sincere it's like she's having trust issues since Sanji is considered a ladies' man or flirty and was afraid he'll broke her heart?

A/N IMPORTANT: Hey, thank you for your request Anon ! I had to confess that it was kind of a hard one for me because well...trust issu hit close from home and I just start to write that angst even if it was not my specialty, but I really like the result and I hope you will too !

Trust Issues

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

—

Love wasn’t your cup of tea. Sure, the idea of a partner supporting and adoring you like you deserve was cute. But, in your opinion, you have already done enough. After all, your last relationship has resulted as becoming a pirate and being abandoned by your lover to save his ass. And, If the humiliation hadn’t been enough, not long after your escape for the marines, you had seen him parading with his new lady wrapped around his arm. Like if you hadn’t existed at all.

So, nobody could blame you if you had some trust issues and an aversion for ladie’s man.

It’s why you knew the minute you saw his smile what Vinsmoke Sanji was : A pretty flirt.

If it was only you, you had refused his presence on the ship, but, like Luffy had said, the Going Merry needed a cook and the man was a hell of a fighter. As the morning came, you couldn’t also deny the fact that he looked incredibly good in his suit, his bag on his shoulder, ready to come aboard. Smiling at the instant he spotted you.

“ Hello Madam, I'm glad we met again. Can I say that you seem even more beautiful in this sunlight” He offered, from the dock, as you were sitting on the main deck rail adjusting a rope.

“ You may, but it doesn't mean I will accept the compliment. Luffy is on the upper deck if you search him” You coldly replied, trying to shut down your traitor heart. You will not fall for another pretty face, never.

“ I didn’t expect much Madam, thank you for the information “ Sanji replied, his mood in nothing affected by your coldness. Sure, he had hoped for a warmer welcome, but after serving you the night before and found himself unable to turn his gaze away from your beauty. He was satisfied with just being part of the same crew as you, the rest would come later he had assumed.

It took, in fact, way longer than he first thought. For the entire few weeks he had been on board, you hadn’t looked or talked to him except to thank him for the food or urgent matters.

Many times, the crew had tried to talk to you, asking you to be more nice with Sanji. But, even if you could feel his charm often softened your shield, your stubbornness was even stronger.

It wasn’t easy for Sanji either. He knew you clearly disliked him without knowing why. When, on his part, the more he was admiring you, watching you laugh with the others, hearing your brilliant plan, watching you gracefully climb the cordage and being as stubborn as him. Make him love you even more. Everyday, he was trying to charm you, offering you compliments, taking an interest in what you were doing or simply making you the best food he could. But, nothing worked, you answered him quickly and as coldly as always.

It'll take another two months and a storm before Sanji has enough.

The rain was falling for hours,helped by a wind so strong that you had to close one of the sails to avoid drifting away. Each two hours or so, the members of the crew were making a rotation, trying as much as possible to not fatigue themself too much and end up falling into the water.

You were the only one still standing, drenched by the cold rain, your muscles sore by the force necessary to keep the helm stable. Multiple times Nami and Usopp had tried to push you to take a rest or at least eat something warm, but each time you refused resolutely, you would pass that storm and rest after.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sanji was finishing his soup, preparing three bowls for the crew member who will come downstairs to take their rest. As he prepared himself for going upstairs, doing his part, the blond chef saw Nami and Usopp going down the stairs, alone. You aren’t with them, again.

“ Where Y/N ” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“ She refuses to budge of the helm. we tried to talk to her but it’s like talking to a rock” Nami replied, wrapping herself in a big towel.

“ I’ll come back, I will bring her here “ Sanji only replied, his happy mood now sour. It wasn’t rare in the time who’s he was running the restaurant with Zeff that he lost his temper. He had lost it already a time or two during battle, but against another member of the crew,it was a first.

Making his way to the helm, he looked at you, already knowing it will not be easy. But, to be sure you’re in security, he was ready to fight you if he had to.

“ Y/N, your time has long passed, I will replace you. I prepared a dry towel and warm soup in the kitchen. Go take some rest “ He first tried.

“ I’m not tired or hungry “ You simply replied with your gaze focused on the horizon.

“ Then I’m afraid I have to excuse myself Darling “ Profiting from an adjustment of your position, he then proceeds to lift you on his shoulder, easily dodging all your attacks, as he was getting you down in the ship to dry both of you.

“ How dare you ! “ You scream, shaking of rage and cold. As he sits you on one of the kitchen stools and throws a dry towel at you. “ I was perfectly fine !”

“ You were on a trip to catch death ! “Sanji replied sharply, his gaze dark and his wet form in a stiff posture with anger “ I don’t know what I exactly did to make you dislike me like that, but I can care for you if you do some stupid things like that ! “

“ Then just don’t care about me and go flirt somewhere else !!” You angrily answered.

Taken aback, Sanji tilted his head, frowning his eyebrow, clearly confused.

“ Wait…what…You dislike me…because I flirted with you ?“ He slowly asked, trying to understand your point.

“ I just don’t understand why you haven't given up yet ! I had already done with the damn flirty kind, go charm your other ladies and leave me alone ! “

" My other…” Sanji starts disbelief. “ I don’t give up because I care for you…stubborn woman! " Sanji tried to say. Never had he thought that it was his manner that you hated so much. " But if my affection isn't required, fine, eat and rest, that's all I ask " He sighs ,disappearing upstairs.

A long and heavy silence fell in the kitchen after he left, leaving you with a curiously heavy heart and some concerned gaze of Nami and Usopp eating their soup. After a while, you sigh, defeated and take yourself a bowl. As always, the dish was perfectly balanced and delicious.

" You know y/n...I know your story, I understand, I do. But…Sanji didn't flirt with any woman aside from you for months…I think he genuinely likes you, " Nami softly spoke. "Of course I'm not you and you have all the right to act like you do, but it’s not Sanji's fault. He’s not him… and I think the day he will stop caring for you, you will realize it’s will be maybe too late”.

“ Maybe “ You admit, finishing your food before leave it into the sink and heading to the door” I will sleep a little, wake me up when it will be our turn again please “

But she never woke you up and when you opened your eyes, the sun was shining again on another day.

Sanji wasn’t the kind of man who'd give up easily, neither on his dream nor on the people he loved. But, even with his flirty tendency, respecting women and their wishes was a priority. It’s why, even if it cost him and that your word had wounded him, on that sunny day, he started to restrict at the minimum his attention to you.

And you noticed it immediately. His gaze on you, usually full of affection, was now more distant, he didn’t ask you if you had slept well, nor if you would like something in particular for breakfast, he simply put an omelet in front of you, smiled politely and returned to his occupation. Yes, for Sanji it was odd, but, as a ladie’s man you give him a week before going back to his old habit.

Luckily for you, life decided to give both of you a hand.

Your estimation could never be more wrong. After two weeks of polite but cold Sanji, you were almost wishing you never had that fight. Your traitor heart was missed his radiant smile toward you, his compliments for every little detail of your person or the way he tried to know every one of your favorite things. But you had broken it and you were now unsure how to repair it. Excuse could probably do the charm, but your stubbornness was always blocking you, estimating that protecting your heart wasn't shameful.

The Going Merry was anchored alongside an island, doing his needed resupply. As the last barrel had been brought on board, you followed the idea of Zoro and decided to join your companions for a drink at the little bar on the beach.

But, as you put your foot in the small place, you froze, your mind resuming to a static white noise. Your ex, already another lady at his arm, was installed with his crew at the largest table of the little tavern.

“ Hey Y/N come here, that table is free ! “ Luffy exclaimed, not noticing your stiffness.

“ Y/N is that you ! Damn girl, I haven't seen you since you were surrounded by Marines ! I own you for this one, how did you escape ?! “ The despicable man shouted, clearly more happy to see you, than you were to see him. “ Darla, that girl was... my most loyal crew member. “He explained to the girl at his side “Look at you, have you always been that pretty ? “

The compliment was the last straw that snapped you out of your shock. How could he talk to you so casually after all you had endured because of him. Doesn’t he have an ounce of regret or shame ?!

“ I escaped on my own after you had cowardly abandoned me ! “ You replied, as Sanji placed himself behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder in support.

“ Y/N, that man clearly doesn’t deserve your time, come, the drink will arrive soon” He tried, giving a hard look at the pathetique Captain who was now coming a you, his hand scratching his hair, gauging if Sanji was a menace for his future plan with you or not.

“ Not deserving of his time, I had already two years of her time mate, go sip your beer and let us discuss. Y/N and I have many things to talk about. I haven’t abandoned her, I knew she could escape, she’s a smart cat. Aren't you Sweet pea”

“ I have nothing to say to you, thank you Sanji but I’m not in the mood. Being in the same room as him would suck all the joy I have. I will be on the ship. “ You simply replied, making your exit before tears ran down your cheeks.

Sat on the upper deck, watching the night sky, the fresh wind drying your last tears, you saw Sanji came back onboard. Without a word, he simply sat beside you and offered you the bottle he was keeping in his hand.

“ Zoro sent his regards and I’m here to tell you that I’m sorry. I had tried to respect your wish, but I couldn’t stop myself tonight. I can’t not care for you and that man was...he shouldn’t ever treat a lady as you like that. Maybe now he had learn “

“ Sanji, what did you do? “ You asked, strangely touched that he had actually take your defense even after you had left.

“ I kicked his pathetic and disgraceful ass. I couldn’t tolerate the way he was looking at you, talking to you...But I understand now how my behavior led you to dislike me when I arrived, But I assure you that…”

“ I know, “ You said your heart, still fragile, beating faster.” You aren’t him and I should have waited to know you. I was scared, I didn’t want to like you because I was afraid to repeat the same story. But even if I tried, I realize when you had stop to caring for me that I miss it, I missed you…a lot“

Suddenly unusually shy, his cheeks a slightly shade of faded pink in the dark, Sanji avoided your gaze, a joyful smile spreading on his lips.

“ I suggest that we start over. We can't forget all those months but we can restart our relationship.I can’t wait to truly know you Y/N” He tell, finally planting in gaze in yours, that lost spackles in his eyes, the one you though forever vanish, back even brighter that ever.

“ I can’t wait too, Sanji “ You softly smile.

___

Your first kiss with Sanji happened a little shorter than a month later. At exactly the same spot.

Since that night, you have made a habit of watching the sky together, sharing stories, passions and thoughts. Even if the blond cook, not without surprise, seems to find the constellation less appealing than your sweet view at his side. But, you slowly adapted yourself to his flirting and even often replied, to his joy.

It was in one of those moments, as you turned your head to point to him a group of stars that Sanji captured your lips, answering your heart's deepest desire from months and even probably since the tall man had put a foot on the deck.

Somewhere on the lower level of the ship, you hear the playful screams and wolf whistles of your friends. But, as he captured your lips for another kiss you couldn't care less. You had an amazing group of friends, the sea was peaceful and with the help of Sanji, your heart finally started to heal.

#opla!sanji x reader #sanji x reader #one piece netflix #opla #opla sanji #vinesmoke sanji x reader #one piece #one piece sanji #opla vinesmoke sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #Request #Sanji Request

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reikissu · 25 days

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❥･• kaedehara kazuha and wanderer dating hcs.

a/n: might be ooc, i’ll try my best to edit it and make it more accurate to their character huhu

ꔛ genre: fluff, romance

ꔛ reader: gender neutral

ꔛ warnings: corny stuff, cursing

my, you're a lucky one to be the paramour of kaedehara kazuha.. because life is about to change.

he's swift as the wind, with just his way of words and voice.. he can make you turn flustered in a matter of minutes.

with just a call, you feel as if you're on cloud 9.

"dearest, may you come here?" "huh? uh sure...! (⌯❛௦❛⌯)" then he asks why your cheeks are red HAHA

his petnames for you are like a sweet flavor to his tongue, calling you out by using his petnames makes him feel warm.

he calls you dearest, dear and love. they vary in different days when he chooses one.

his love language is definitely gifts and physical touch, he loves writing poems and giving it to you, since you are his inspiration of the poems he gives to you.

and they turn out to be so romantic that you start giggling while reading it, after all.. it is all about you and he wrote it full-heartedly.

everytime it’s autumn, he would bring you to a cliff where the trees are in view, sitting next to you as you both behold the sight of the maple leaves flowing along with the wind.

he would take one leaf and put it behind your ear as an accessory, "you look beautiful, my love." he says as he gives a soft smile. 🤭

as i also mentioned, his other love language is physical touch. he likes to feel your soft skin against his, he'll kiss you, hug you, hold your hand.. anything that’s comfortable with you.

on certain occasions he would hold your hand, whenever you both are alone of course.. wouldn’t want anyone prying on your moments with kazuha, no?

he would share his experiences when he traveled with beidou or by himself, it would always have interesting events happening in them. so it’s very entertaining to listen to.

HE DEF KNOWS HOW TO SEW, because i hc that when tomo had rips on his clothes, kazuha would fix them. so kazuha would gift you handmade clothes, handkerchiefs, scarfs… you name it, and it will always be in your favorite color. “Ah, shit! My sleeve ripped!” “Mm? Oh, give me the top you’re currently wearing tomorrow, i will fix it.” “You know how to sew?” “Yes, my dear.” “Aw, thank you..” “You’re welcome :)”

sometimes when you both are in the mood to hangout on the ship, Captain Beidou always teases you both “Hey, hey.. no one told me the lovebirds would board the ship!” “Captain beidou…” you and the other crew mates just laugh it off.

you and Beidou would talk about Kazuha and tell stories, and she had one piece of advice for you. “Just come to me if Kazuha hurts you or did something wrong, i’ll teach that kid a lesson.” “Is that a threat, captain?” you laugh, kazuha mutters under his breath, leaning on the wall of the ship "Why would i ever do that to them.."

all jokes aside, having kazuha in your life is a blessing from the gods that you can never thank them enough for.

at first, wanderer wasn’t the sweetest boyfriend. But after learning about relationships and love.. he started showing how much he loves you.

after he regained his memories, he was back to his old, sassy and arrogant self. But that didn’t stop him from being soft around you.

in public, he’s the biggest asshole you’ll ever meet istg, but when alone with you, he just suddenly melts into your touch.

he’d let you play with his hair, cuddle with him or more. you’re one of the people he trusts and loves, so he doesn’t mind it. he likes being pampered and pampering you.

he doesn’t have a petname for you, he just calls you by your name. but if he’s feeling nice enough, he’ll call you babe.

“Babe, can you-“ “Huh? What did you call me? 🤩” “..Babe. Are you deaf?” “OH MY GOSH 🥹” then he’d just stare at you like “what’s so shocking about that?” HAHAHAHAHA

his love language would mainly be physical touch, but in my opinion his love languages would be all, depending on his mood.

he would make fun of you sometimes, if you trip he’d definitely laugh his ass off but will help you stand up, if you accidentally say something that is SO stupid he’ll literally never shut up about it.

he would try food or things that you like, so he’d understand your preferences. But if you like sweets, he’d have a hard time with it. he’d spend an hour just trying to swallow it, he hates it.

“What’s wrong? Do you not like dango?” “….No. I like dango.” (He’s about to puke.)

wanderer wasn’t very good at showing his love through physical touch, but he would give you soft yet quick kisses, it’s like cotton grazing on your lips. after a while, he would be able to kiss you more confidently without any hesitation in private.

he is slightly showy in public, just subtle hand and waist holding as you two walk through sumeru, eat somewhere, or do any activities outside. like stargazing, watching a play etc.

whenever he would see you eyeing something you want, he would click his tongue and say “Tsk, buy it yourself.” then later night he’s holding a bag with the item/food you wanted earlier… “Hm? Isn’t that the food/thing i wanted?” “…Yeah.” “I thought you told me to buy it myself?” “Shut up, i changed my mind.” (he will get absolutely pissed off and flustered if you tease him about it 😭)

he would help you in any way he can, cooking, laundry, blahblahblah. just anything, so he could take the weight off your shoulders. you’re a hardworking person in his eyes, and he admires that, and he’s willing to be one with you.

he would surprisingly like cuddling, but not the one with those type of cuddling where it turns into some steamy stuff. i have a gut feeling he would love chill and tender moments with you, like talking about past experiences and laughing together, watching a movie together, etc. he loves seeing you smile and laugh, it makes him feel warm inside.

would kill for you, if anyone tries to harm you, they’ll be buried 6 feet under for that. even though he acts hard to get, he loves and cares for you a lot. he does not give a single shit if you’re bigger and taller than him, he knows he’s capable of protecting you.

overall, his life with you is the happiest one he has ever had. wanderer loves you with all his heart.

#kazuha kaedehara #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fluff #kaedahara kazuha #kaedahara kazuha x reader #kazuha kaedahara x reader #kaedehara kazuha fluff #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #kazuha x reader #kazuha fluff #scaramouche scenarios #wanderer scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #kazuha scenarios #kazuha kaedehara scenarios #kaedehara kazuha scenarios

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jahiera · 9 months

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How To Know If Your Evil Vampire Boygirlfriend Really Likes You (a meta on Astarion's manipulations of Tav deeper into the romance.)

Okay, this was supposed to be a response to this ask right here, and it got so long I decided to just put it in its own thing for slightly easier reading. Thank you again to the asker for giving me an excuse to go off the rails talking about THE BOY. This also got long enough that it needs. Subheadings. And it is [checks notes] 3.6k words long. If you're interested in skipping the act 2 Scene Breakdown and going straight for the character analysis of Act 3 specifically, you can jump to the uhhh 3. Yeah He's Manipulative (Trauma Edition) subheading.

Prefacing that this is just my personal interpretation of Astarion here, the game leaves several moments ambiguous on purpose & I'd be super intrigued to hear what anyone else thinks is going on in this rancid little lad's head. This became more of a process of breaking down what I think he's doing in each scene than anything else, so I hope it's interesting to... you? reader? Since it's a bit long-winded and a lot of speculation and interpretation on my part for his wild ass behavior.

(Also, I haven't played far enough with an ascended Astarion to properly break down the differences between both--he'll have his own playthrough for sure but since I haven't gone far enough in that path, all of this is with no-ritual Astarion in mind) (I also don't have screenshots for everything but hopefully that's alright. just trust me bro.)

Fair warning, I didn't proof-read this & I moved paragraphs around so if it sounds incoherent that's a feature not a bug. Now. Let's get into the EVIDENCE.

1. but did he mean the kisses????

So, before the hug scene, the game leaves us a bit of room to interpret the progression of the relationship. I kind of wish we had one extra scene to sort of solidify his growing feelings in the in-between period of his "I'm just sleeping with you to secure my safety here," era (pre-confession as we'll call it) and his "oh shit I actually kind of care about you," era (post-confession, pre-ritual), but I understand why it wasn't included. Game mechanics & cost aside, the space between these two periods is left entirely up to player interpretation, & has lots of room for HC up to each individual player & Tav.

To address the easiest examples the asker gave, the repeatable kiss dialogues are all ones I'm going to mark under "sincere." Mostly because those are all post-confession, and after Astarion has acknowledged to himself (& the player) that he doesn't want to do anything sexual, but presumably kissing is fine (given that he's enthusiastic about the kisses & will shut down sex/intimacy acts otherwise.)

There's not really a logic to him being slinky here, and I didn't interpret any of his post-kiss repeated dialogues as insincere, much more so playful or coy or cheeky. The voice acting is subtle here, but I found it to be much more playful than his annoying little, for lack of a better word, purring "hello, beautiful" etc etc in act 1 / early act 2. Also, all these dialogues stay the same after the ritual happens, and your romance has been solidified in the grave scene, where he wholly says:

"I feel safe with you. Seen. And whatever the future holds for me, I don't want to lose that."

^ Not a lie. So I think we can mark off those particular dialogue as sincere.

In act 2, there aren't really a lot of places for Astarion to actually get into his manipulative tendencies. He overtly needs your aid with Yurgir (Repeat after me: thank you for helping me. It was very kind.) so he doesn't really manipulate you at... all...? in my opinion? Act 2 shows you his most sincere moment yet in the confession/hug scene. He is not lying. He is more honest in those moments than he has been in the entire game, and it shows in his wording, his body language. He's uncertain of himself, maybe. He doesn't know what to make of the situation yet. He says as much to Tav when you ask him "What are we?" and he says:

"I don't know. But isn't it nice? Not to know. You're not a victim. Not a target. Not just one night it's better to forget. But then... whatever in the world could you be?"

He has no reason to say that without sincerity. He could say you're his specialest babygirl if he wanted to keep up the lie. And other than helping him with Raphael, there's really not a moment where Astarion has an opportunity to manipulate you....

EXCEPT.

EXCEPT. For this moment in particular. which is one of my FAVORITE Astarion ones because it is gloriously bitchy.

2. what if we took over a cult, babe.

Context first: I played a paladin of devotion, rough around the edges but fairly good-aligned Tav. She was a bit of a jerk but she saved people for free, and I adhered to her dialogue roleplay hard, choosing the "destroy the Absolute" dialogues at every turn. I don't have a save for this scene sadly otherwise I'd replay it and compare/contrast answers like a pepe silvia meme, so I'm only able to break this scene down from that particular lens.

Secondary context: This scene is important because it highlights Astarion's manipulative routine while still with a Tav he's very fond of (exceptional approval in this scene) and the way he lays it out is necessary to understand the moments later where he tries to manipulate Tav again, since it has components of the same themes, ideas, and tendencies that go on.

So, Astarion will hit you with this hot take early-ish on.

"You know. I feel a connection between us. Like we're two souls walking the same path (...)" Astarion establishes emotional connection, and a foundation of similarity/commonality/shareed interest. This is pretty standard fare for him. He does the same thing a lot early in act one, where he's almost CONSTANTLY asking you to "trust him," (when you really should not.)

"You might be a little naive in the ways of the world, but I see promise in you. Ambition." - He kind of snidely reveals what he actually thinks--you're a bit naive, you "have a big heart,"--he's hoping that his emotional cloying and little comment and connection with Tav will be enough to sway them over to what he wants to do, and they'll give him what he wants because We're So Similar, See?

"So I was thinking, what would be the right thing do when we get to Moonrise Towers?" - He wields his language carefully. The right thing to do. That's a language he thinks Tav speaks. An interest in doing the Right Thing; so, he adjusts accordingly. He wants to do the right thing too, you see, and the right thing conveniently lines up with what he actually wants, which is real power. Astarion confesses he's not a details guy, yada yada, then--

"If we can take that control from them, imagine the power we'd wield." <- He lets slip what he's actually interested in. Astarion generally can't keep a charade up for too long. His real thoughts always come through, and he reveals his hand in conversations often, but usually in offhanded ways and, well--he's never made a secret really of where his actual interests lie. His attempts at currying your favor and persuading you (and you can really feel the persuasion here) are prettyyyyy overt, but still, he's trying anyways.

"I'm just saying there's an opportunity here. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and liberate the world from this evil." <- He brings the conversation back around to what's more neutral than Absolute Power -- keeping ourselves safe. He uses the We and Us language a lot when he wants to convince other people of anything, really. "We're all such good, trusting friends!" he'll say, lying through his FUCKING teeth. His manipulations here are like.... pretty clear, but he still gets an A for effort for trying to align himself with Tav & Tav's perceived goals & see if he can wriggle in his own in the process, put "become god-cult-leader" up as a Reasonable and Rational thing to Want to achieve.

The actual question here: does he care about Tav at this point? Up for interpretation, but I'm going to say yes with... the caveat that I don't think he's fully acknowledged it to himself, and I don't think it's love here. It is high approval though. I do think he cares about Tav, I do think he's including Tav in longer-term goals, he's depending on Tav at this point as an ally he can count on, and he's starting to get chipped away at.

I don't even really think it's a lie that he on some level would like to see Tav safe, and takes their wellbeing into account. He's been with them long enough to worry over their safety to some extent, and to at least partially lump it in with his own (in my opinion). Is that love? I don't think so. "We can finally be safe," is a reoccurring theme in the other scene I'm going to break down in just a second. And it's interesting for a lot of reasons.

And furthermore: you can care about someone and still be manipulative toward them. That's a core thing going on here, I think, with Astarion.

3. Yeah He's Manipulative (Trauma Edition).

"Is Astarion Manipulating Me In Act 3? " YES. A little bit. And here's why it's INTERESTING.

So, the confession scene in act two has already happened. Astarion has confessed some of his big mushy feelings to you. He likes you. You've slammed the "can I kiss you?" dialogue 100 times already because you're really super normal about the vampire twink. He doesn't know what to make of his caring about Tav yet. See: his "what are we??" dialogue.

MOVING ON. Astarion is also, a manipulative little shit, and he will NOT change his ways just because he likes you a lot and giggles when you give him a little kissy kiss.

Astarion is deeply, deeply traumatized, and his trauma has in his own words makes him act out the same cycles of behavior that he did prior to escaping Cazador. In its most obvious format, one of those behaviors was seducing Tav because that was the kind of behavior he knew, and it was the only thing he could think of to secure his own safety. By act 2, he's somewhat aware of the cycle, but--

Traumatic behaviors, like anything relating to surviving abuse & getting out of it, come and go in waves. You'll likely not find a survivor of abuse who doesn't revert back to coping mechanisms at times, especially in moments or episodes of heightened stress, or being put back into the old environment again. ->

Astarion going back to Baldur's Gate--and specifically with killing cazador in mind--is him going back to that same place where traumatic events occurred... almost constantly. Thus, he goes back to his old behaviors. Not to the exact same level, but it is there.

Safety. THIS is a word that comes back a lot with Astarion, it is one of his most reoccurring (if not the most) themes. He wants to feel safe. He associates power with safety, because the safest person in the world--as in, literally safe, not "safe for other people"--in his mind, is Cazador, who is powerful enough to repel any threats to himself & what he owns, has, possesses, and keeps.

Astarion is still, at his core, no matter what, self-serving. He will do what's best for himself first and foremost in almost every circumstance you put him in. Or at least, he will want to--if Tav or someone else stands in his way, and he sticks it out, it'll be begrudgingly. That's a fundamental aspect of his character & to try and do away with it makes no sense.

And in case it got lost, I'll reiterate that I do think Astarion's actual feelings for Tav at this stage are entirely genuine, & deeply felt. It shows, and it's obvious. He's just got several layers of behavior going on in the process.

"But I thought astarion liked me??? why would he consciously choose to manipulate me??" The thing is, once again, you can like someone and still try to manipulate them, pull on their heartstrings, or quite frankly guilt trip them into helping you kill like, a lot of fucking people so you can become godlord supreme emperor of mortals and vampire kind.

Let's get into the second scene I want to break down. Keeping all of what we've established above about how Astarion goes about establishing connection & togetherness & the idea of shared safety to sway Tav over to his side.

So let's set up one thing for sure. It's pretty obvious, everyone gets this scene, but let's set it up anyways.

"What's a handful of the wretch's servants? IF they're anything like me when I was enslaved, they'll all be begging for death anyways." <- apathy toward others, generally motivated by self-interest, lack of empathy for others' plights, a callousness that is fairly unrepetant. He's fairly sure this is what he wants, and--

"After two hundred years of pure shit, I think I deserve something better." Again, Astarion tells us exactly what he's thinking. And what he believes. And he's not wrong! He does deserve something better than what he had before. Or, at least, he doesn't deserve the level of cruelty he endured at Cazador's hands. However.

And then he follows it up with, "I know you do [care]. It matters to me too. I want to be able to protect you too." <- finally, we come back around to the reoccurring theme he'll use to sway Tav over to his side. He sees the soft point of Tav in the conversation--they care about him--and he needles that in; they care about him, he cares about them, they should help him complete the ritual for it, it's what's best for everyone. Except for the 7000 spawn, but. You know.

NEXT IMPORTANT SCENE. let's take a look at the scene that follows after you confront his fellow vampire spawn in the tavern.

I'm keeping the full screencap so I can keep his shifty little look in here. It's not the best format, I wish I'd kept videos, the body language & voice acting adds a lot to this moment, but. Neil you're so good at balancing Astarion's careful shiftiness, his gleeful/vindictive revelry at being so close to his end goal & confronting his siblings without flinching, his coy little pleading, and his near desperate watchfulness. He needs Tav. He cares about Tav, yes, but he needs Tav to help him.

Astarion is, again, fairly callous about the deaths of his brethren. You have to remind him time & again to maybe empathize with their suffering & similarity to him. But each time he reverts back to, "their lives" serving a greater purpose.

Astarion then follows that up with "But we're a team. If I become all powerful, then we become all-powerful." <- I think he genuinely does think of himself & Tav as a team, and as a good one at that. More than anything, Tav is the first person Astarion, in his own words, feels he truly cares for. They've killed a few gods chosens together, Tav has given him respect, patience, care. He feels fairly assured of their presence & kindness at this point. And assurance tends to breed............. let's call it, taking for granted?

I believe he's trying to again emotionally bid for their help & loyalty as much as gauge if they're still with him, as he does by going -> "We are a team after all. You're still with me?" Once again, the easiest way to secure aid is through emotional connections; someone's attraction to you, or better yet, their care for your well-being, are easy strings to pull on to try and entice someone to do what you want them to do. It's not necessarily maliciously intended, but it is a kind of manipulation.

"But Astarion just genuinely wants to know you're on his side!" Yes. And he also really wants you to help him with the ritual. ANY arguments against the idea that he's benignly trying to manipulate Tav's feelings, I'm just gonna put up this screencap right here, one of the last times he bids for Tav's affection & loyalty in this, in this particular conversation:

Look at his stupid pouty face and his "You want what's best for me, surely?" and oh god the voice acting. We're smacked right in the face with Act 1 Astarion's slinky, whiny little "truuuuust me it'll just be a taste I promise <3333" voice. That PURE "I'm trying so hard to connive my way into your good will because I REALLY want this." voice.

His strength is your strength. And he will pleading face emoji his way through getting you over to his side if he needs to. It's honestly so funny, how the writing plays out, because SEVERAL times you can choose to fully fall for it, "yes of course I want whats best for you / want you to be safe / feel good" and every time, he's like "I know I know <333 and I want YOU to feel safe too <3333" and I don't even think that's a lie! I don't think it's a LIE, I just think it's the same pattern of manipulative behavior he's exhibited time and again even when he cares for you.

Astarion is still Astarion. He is very willing to kill, lie, and cheat his way through just about anything to protect himself, & all of that makes PERFECT sense for him. And if you're not on board with his plans, of course he will use every tool at his disposal to get you on board. It is, after all, what's best for both you and him. His power is your power.

4. "I'm doing this for you too." He said, lying. Or genuinely believing that but lying to himself too and executing it in the weirdest way imaginable.

So, this is probably my favorite interaction in the entire Astarion romance. Love the grave scene. Love the horny evil vampire turning. But this moment in particular is fucking brilliant, because it illustrates the dilemma here perfectly.

Astarion outright tells us exactly why he is the way he is, and why he cares for Tav while being able to be so cruel and callous about others. "No one ever looked out for me [...] you're the only one." Tav is exceptional--as in, THE EXCEPTION to the rule--because they cared for him in a way no one else ever has. He has ZERO reason to even bother lifting a finger for anyone else besides himself, because in his mind, none of them ever bothered to help him, why should he bother with them. But TAV. Tav he can make promises too.

On some level, I do kind of believe him when he says things like "I'm doing this for you too." -- As in, I believe that he believes that he's taken Tav into account here as well. I do think he genuinely thinks they'll be an even more magnificent duo of glorious bastards together once he's God Vampire Emperor Of Eternity. And on some level, he's probably right. They do take over the world together in some endings, so. Good for them.

However, do I think he's primarily motivated by anything but himself? No. Tav also benefitting from his mega vampire powers is just a bonus in a laundry list of reasons why Astarion wants to ascend at this point in the game. Why Astarion is willing to pull out every guilt-trippy, pleading face to get Tav to help him, if they show even a hint of reluctance. More than anything: Astarion is a survivor, and a survivor of severe abuse that pretty quickly explain why he is the way he is. Does that excuse what he does in the aftermath of that abuse, when it comes to harming other people? Not really. But it explains it pretty clearly.

Because Astarion is back where he came from, he's immediately thrust back into the cycles of behavior that both traumatized him & were what he had to do. The pattern of behavior, coping mechanisms, rooted in traumatic cycles, that he has done time and time and time again that has successfully gotten him, not what he wants, but what he needs to survive. Does his manipulation of Tav here mean he doesn't care? Not at all. It's just that he needs this work. He needs his allies to help him make it work, and he's willing to pull out every stop to see Cazador dead and himself with enough power to never feel so helpless or vulnerable again.

Astarion can love you & still be himself. He will never stop being a bit bitchy, a bit conniving, extremely focused on self-preservation at all costs. He might not seek out active maliciousness, but even in act 3 after the ritual, he still approves of generally being a sneaky bastard, taking short cuts, taking easy ways out. And none of this is necessarily... a problem? It isn't ""moral"", sure, but it's not really a problem. In some endings, he can pursue ""better"" paths, but his general deceivery and typical behavior aren't going away. Feature, not a bug. How each Tav feels about his ... fairly obvious deep romance manipulations is up to each player though, and that is what's interesting for each playthrough.

There are five more essays to write in here. There's the Astarion after the ritual, who agrees that fine, killing 7000 people is wrong. And there's the Astarion after the ascension, who is now fully entrenched in the idea that Power Is Everything, and all that means for him afterward, and his visceral, intense, obsessive controlling dynamic with Tav where they descend into Chaotic Vampire Evil Marriage. And there's Astarion and Tav together finally, honestly, openly, with the heart-wrenching intimacy of the grave scene. And this is almost 4000 words so I'm shutting the fuck up here.

So. I will end this by saying I'm peeling him like an onion rn I'm obsessed with him. He's gods horrible princess and he's never going to die.

#astarion #bg3 #bg3 meta #the fact that I'm sitting here like 'okay but I'm not even taking into account...'#Astarion.. you vainglorious hilarious evil twink. Why are you so complicated. I'm obsessed with you.#if this flops we don't talk about it okay....#also I'm not sure but if you need a tone disclaimer my jokes/insults/teasing is all complimentary. unfortunately #I love him deeply. and want to put him in a bag of rice and shake him really hard.#bg3 spoilers

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starry-bi-sky · 1 month

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I am absolutely loving your Danyal Al Ghul au. While I have a soft spot for the whole plotline of Danny becoming his canon personality almost right after breaking away from the LOA all because of Jazz, I'm just as much for your take in which he goes through the same character development as Damian.

Now I'm curious. You already tackled his relationship with Dani, will you eventually take a stab at when he, Sam, and Tucker meet Gregor? Given that it's one of my hated episodes as I couldn't stand Sam's infuriatingly hypocritical attitude to Danny's suspicions of him, I'd kill to see your spin on it.

Aw, thank you! Danyal Al Ghul aus are what got me into DPDC first, so I have a major soft spot for them. That being said, uh, its exactly that soft spot that causes me to have Many Opinions about the trope you just mentioned. Like the trope is all fine and dandy, i don't blindly hate it, my main issue with it is that most aus i've seen treat his backstory as an ex-assassin more like a pretty cosmetic accessory rather than something that actually should have had an impact on him. Especially if he remembers being in the league.

Like i cannot stress enough the fact that being in an ecofascist assassin cult (regardless of his standing in it) should've left him, in some way or another, screwed up morally and psychologically because that's just how development works. Nature vs. Nurture is like a game of tug-o-war that never ends, where they are constantly fighting against each other and one side usually has the upper hand or greater influence. Children model the behaviors of the adults around them (ex: bobo the clown doll experiment), and what impacts them in childhood can stick with them permanently.

Like how my psychology professor put it: a baby's brain is like wet cement; if you slap your hand on it, it leaves an imprint, and the cement dries that way. The same rings true for small children.

I could go on, but I frankly have so many thoughts on that alone that I would end up completely derailing from the second half of your ask, and I don't want to be more critical than I already have. Especially since you just mentioned you have a soft spot for the trope.

[Okay, hold onto your hats because this is long. Naturally lmao.]

Gregor! Man, I'll admit I last watched the show back in middle school on a dodgy illegal website (it had surprisingly good audio and visual graphics, and full episodes. But really annoying porn ads.) but I only made it to like season 1 before my hyperfixation faded and I lost interest. So I never actually saw the Gregor episode.

But... it is relatively easy to find free websites that stream Danny Phantom :), so finding the episode took me like. Thirty seconds. Plus the Tv.Tropes recap page because my damn earbuds just died and im out in public as of rn.

I'm not sure if I'll write something for the gregor episode like I did with Dani, since Dani's a bit of a special case in that she's a clone and tends to be a reoccurring presence in DPDC, and I thought the new dynamic with Danyal would be interesting.

Plus, I'm not a big amethyst ocean shipper for the pure reason of I'm just not all that interested in it; its kinda bland to me. I'll admit I've entertained the thought in this au due to the whole balcony scene i wrote, but I would've entertained the thought anyways if it was Tucker in that position instead. Big multishipper, me.

But, if I had to make it official? Danyal is not interested romantically in Sam when the Gregor episode happens, regardless of his relationship with Valerie. Who, speaking of I'm trying to think about how that would go, and I'm torn between including him almost-dating Valerie or not.

Because on one hand it helps point out Sam's hypocrisy (and i love her but i am always happy to point out her flaws and address them in au) in this episode in terms of Danny spying on them, but on the other hand I'll want to include a lot of set up in order to make Gray Ghost work in this au and wow will that take a while.

Especially with the Flirting with Disaster episode because it happens due to Technus' meddling, and Danny is, well, the son of the Batman? A trained assassin? An ex-assassin nonetheless, but still an assassin? A prodigy child in this au? He might not have needed to use most of his skills in the last few years, but like... there's just a bunch of 'what if' and 'well technically...' and 'would he? he could, but would he?' things that is getting in the way of my thought process and making my head spin.

Mmm. Okay. Flirting with Disaster occurs relatively the same as canon with a few exceptions; like Danyal noticing the strange coincidences, and he might take the idea into proper consideration because Sam has a point it is strange, especially out of nowhere.

However,,, he really enjoys Valerie's company, and he does really like her. He's been adjusting to civilian life for the last four years and while he's made a lot of progress, he's still. an ex-assassin child living like a wolf amongst sheep. This is normal, typical teenager stuff, and usually his friends like to encourage him doing normal teenager stuff.

So he's stubbornly holding out on the thought that this is normal, that ghost stuff isn't interfering here. He's a little hurt that his friends are discouraging this, he's not bothered by the fact that Valerie is a ghost hunter and he a ghost -- his mother is an assassin, and his father is Batman, and they still had a relationship. (Granted, he's not gonna tell them that)

If anything, being diametrically opposed to each other but still being in love is part of the family! Granted, usually both parties are aware of said opposition to each other, but he'll make a special exception this time around.

(And man now that i'm thinking about gray ghost, im now thinking about various like. scenes i could write between the two of them. maybe in a reblog.)

Anyways uhhh things relatively go the same as canon. Yeah. I think Sam still has a crush on Danny and still spies out of jealousy with Tucker.

Now, the Gregor episode! With that out of the way; the TVTropes recap for this episode isn't the best because it doesn't go into detail about the entire episode like it does with Flirting With Disaster and Shades of Gray.

(which i looked at earlier because I made a section of this post talking briefly about what changes I'd make to the Shades of Gray episode to help set up Gray Ghost, but ended up deleting because it was kinda irrelevant for the matter at hand.)

So I'm taking in bits of the episode clips at a time, I'll try not to get too nitpicky about how each scene goes because then it's gonna take me a longer time to write this.

But! First thing's first; since Danny is not romantically interested in Sam, he is also not jealous of Gregor. He is however, a bit eyebrow-raisey at him in their first introduction, but that's because Gregor is coming off as obnoxious.

Danny thinks he's kinda annoying, and it doesn't take a genius to see that Gregor is trying to impress Sam. But since they've only known him for five minutes he takes the good faith assumption and assumes that Gregor is genuinely trying to show interest in Sam's interests too because he likes her, so he keeps mum. The fake hungarian accent is weird, but it's overall harmless, so he doesn't point it out.

He does do the spying thing when he starts suspecting that Gregor might be working for the GIW. The episode only has this happen twice, but for the au this happens a handful of more times over the course of the week, with Danyal's suspicion steadily rising more and more each time.

Hah, when he brings up wanting to spy on Sam and Gregor because of this reason, Tucker still does his "woah! you wanna spy on Sam?" thing.

Danny immediately turns to him, completely unimpressed, and crosses his arms. "Tucker," he says, deadpan, "you and Sam spied on me and Valerie."

He uses a combination of his ghost powers and his regular stealth ability to spy on them. He's hiding in a tree when they're skipping rocks, close enough that he can use his powers to hear them talk but far enough away that he has a good view of their surroundings.

He's invisible in the cinema, but doesn't accidentally get in front of the projector. He checks the inside of the room for the GIW, and then waits outside the actual room itself, keeping an eye on the area and occasionally flying in to watch the movie out of boredom. It reminds him of being back on a recon mission with the League, but it doesn't end with him orchestrating someone's death.

Then when they're at the mall he stays in human form, blending in with the crowd. He runs into the GIW there, but realizes that they're not there because of Gregor; they're just shopping. They didn't show up at either of the last two locations, and he follows them to make sure they're not also trying to blend in. But they're literally just there for shopping.

Danny is rather pleased with this turnout; so far Gregor isn't a spy, he's just annoying. The next day at lunch he asks Sam how her date with Gregor went, and that's how she figures out he spied on them, because well, she didn't tell him that.

"Have you been spying on me?"

Danny messes with his food a little bit, and Tucker is sinking into his seat with embarrassment. He frowns, "Only last night. Those incompetent government dodos--"

His lip curls up; he gets all 'Shakespeare-y' (as Sam and Tucker put it) when he's insulting someone, "--kept appearing whenever Gregor did. I followed you and him last night to make sure he wasn't a spy."

A roundabout way of saying, "I was worried".

Sam is, as canon, furious. Danny understands why, he knows generally speaking that people don't like being spied on. But he's confused on just how angry she is, and is a little irritated by it.

"Why would you do that!" She exclaims, "That's way out of line, Danny."

"How? You spied on me when I was going on dates with Valerie." He narrows his eyes, and points his fork at her, "I'm not blind, I noticed."

"That's different, we told you why we were suspicious. And we don't have ghost powers like you do."

"I don't need ghost powers to sneak around, Sam, you've seen this firsthand. And I just told you why I followed you, I thought he was working with the guys in white--"

"So you think someone can only be interested in me if they're after you?" (this is a paraphrased quote, folks ;D)

"No! If that was the case I would have voiced my concern the moment I thought it. I don't get why you're so angry, you spied too."

Iiits.... a mess. Sam storms off with Gregor, Tucker tags along because okay, yeah, maybe Gregor isn't with the GIW, or maybe last night was a fluke. Either way he ends up tagging along. Danny overhears that conversation between the GIW and Mr. Lancer, and maybe he's right, maybe he's wrong; but something is up.

I've gotten to that scene in the locker room where Gregor tells Danny that he knows he doesn't like him, and I've paused at Danny's reply to say this: Danyal doesn't even bother trying to deny it.

"I know you do not like me."

"You're right; I don't."

"Ah, let me finish. I know you do not like me because you want to protect your friend, Sam, and I respect that."

"...That's correct."

"Good! Because I am going to ask her out."

"I had a feeling you'd say that," he stands up, claps his hand tight on Gregor's shoulder, and leans close to him with a threatening smile, "so you understand me when i say; if you break my best friend's heart, you're as good as dead, right?"

"Ah,, yes. I am so glad we got that cleared out of the way, and now I hope after we can.. how you Americans put it, hang out?"

In the episode he hugs Danny and gives him a la bise (which is that french greeting where you kiss someone on the cheek two or more times) after they end their conversation. But here, when he goes to do that to Danyal, Danny leans away, points an accusatory finger at him, and says; "Absolutely not; we are not close."

The next scene after that is like, end of day. Sam, Tucker, and Gregor walking away. Sam looks over her shoulder to glare at Danny, then gets forlorn. Tucker looks back and just looks forlorn.

(When did I start narrating each scene?? Eh, I'm writing this in brief spurts of time throughout the day. Don't fix what's not broke)

After that there's this whole scene with the two GIW agents that have been chasing Phantom all episode. They're there because they have Tucker's PDA that Skulker took, and it's got the information of their purple backed gorilla assignment on it. They've been going around seeing who Tucker associates with in hopes of catching Phantom.

Uhh ahaha and that is where this gets a little interesting imo, and also allows me to mention that im retconning Danyal's (already) redesigned ghost form. Which I've wanted to retcon even before this moment bc it was just too busy. I'll get to that in a moment.

The GIW suspect Gregor for being the Phantom because of his white hair and green eyes, which is all fine and dandy until you remember: Danyal (and by extension Phantom) has that very noticeable, rather identifiable facial scar that goes across the middle of his fucking face. The GIW could easily suspect that Phantom hides his scar with makeup if he's in disguise, but if they meet a kid with a seemingly identical facial scar and similar disposition? Hoo boy.

Solution? I've got two: Gregor is canonically a kid from Michigan who faked everything to impress Sam. Considering he knows she's gothic and knows that she's ultra-recyclo vegetarian? He probably watched her from afar or got information on her somehow. His hair is dyed, his eyes might just naturally be green, but if he notices that she's got a crush on either Danyal or Phantom? A little sfx makeup could help him recreate a similar looking scar.

My second solution that's gonna happen anyways bc its that suit redesign; Danyal does hide his face as Phantom. Ghosts are emotional creatures and its a popular headcanon that their interests, ambitions, etc, influence the way they look as a ghost, not just their death. A big reoccurring theme of my au is that Danyal did not leave the League unscathed, and that being an assassin is an important part of his identity.

So i'm discarding the hazmat suit look entirely and leaning into the 'assassin' thing. But the general (stylized) feel is like, white ribbon/cloth vambraces that he has used as a garrote at some point, a hood, a gaiter scarf-type thing. I'm keeping the cape. I did a doodle a few days back that's not the official redesign, but a redesign for Phantom. I may reblog this post with that attached because it's got the general feel down. There's very little white involved, but the inside of his cape flares out and looks like the night sky.

Now, the hood and gaiter scarf gets rid of most of the problem, but Danny's hood doesn't stay on all the time, so the GIW have likely seen the upper half of the scar. :] Gregor's own drawn-on scar doesn't have to be 1:1, but it looks close enough, right? A small scar cutting through the edge of his brow and ends right below the corner of his eye. A 'cool, badass' one opposed to Danny's 'garish' scar.

But! Back to the episode scene. Canon Danny gets written off as being 'too prepubescent' to be Phantom, and honestly it'd be hilarious if Danyal was written off for the same reason (he's calling them idiots in his head if they do). But instead -- leaning into the GIW's incompetence here -- he gets written off as being too mature or too talkative. Or something equally as absurd.

Sam breaks up with Gregor for canon reasons, but when Gregor does his "i really like you, but, come on-!" and gestures to tucker, he adds on "and that scary friend of yours too, seriously!"

Things go relatively the same as canon after that. Danny does end up apologizing for spying, however. Sam does it first. Sorrows, prayers, all that.

Things usually end up changed or different when I actually write it down, so I'd likely add more or adjust different scenes according to the flow of the oneshot. This is just like, a general vibe of how things would go, and where some of the more obvious changes would be if I did write this oneshot.

Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for the ask :]

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul au #danyal al ghul #i dont even mind the trope that danny becomes like his canon self i just want *some* kind of impact on him. but as it stands most aus i've #seen lowkey treat his assassin background as an accessory. like dyeing your hair or piercing your ears. that being said its also a silly #au where they're brothers and are related to each other and thus doesn't have to be that deep at all! im just bored of seeing the same thin #all the time. especially considering danny is usually depicted as the paler/whiter passing twin and being the 'kinder. more compassionate'#one between the two of them. give me danny who suffered crises of morality! danny whose morally darker than a cloud #morally orange and blue danny who sooner understands 'dont litter' than 'dont murder'. arrogant danny! he dotes on the people he loves but #is an utter bitch to everyone else and thus has to learn to be kinder. danny discovering himself outside being an assassin #his brother remembers a kind and compassionate older brother because thats how danny interacted with him. But danny had no qualms turning #around and slicing the tendons of one of the other assassins because of smth they did that displeased him.#he can still be like his canon self but shouldn't there be something that stays behind? Lingering like a blast shadow?#danny who carries weapons on him always even though he knows he doesn't need it but it makes him feel safer.#danny who spits out the oddest. most foreboding shit sometimes and his friends just stare at him and go 'bro what the fuck??'#idk if i can share the website where i found the episodes bc of risk of copyright. but just search up #'where can i watch danny phantom for free' and look for a reddit post with that question. the comments give website options.#i keep thinking about gray ghost now. valerie finds herself becoming a member of the 'danny fenton protection squad' with sam and tucker #danny takes a page from his beloved mother's book and calls his partners 'beloved' and equally sappy pet names.#he also throws the BIGGEST shitstorm of the century when he finds out about what Axion Labs did to the dogs. hoo boy.

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fatuismooches · 2 years

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hi there!! this blog is awesome! <3 can i request dottore being soft only for reader? LMAO i know this man is literally insane but i love the thought of him being sweet for his s/o 😭

♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ♡

synopsis: Horrifying stories about Dottore frequently float around amongst the Fatui recruits. However, it's a bit hard to believe when they see him with you.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: This is it. One of my favorite tropes ever. Villains being soft for their partner. Thank you anon for this, because I love your thoughts as well!

Everyone knows that he’s like an on and off switch when you’re around. One minute he could be terrorizing Fatui underlings and threatening to experiment on them, but as soon as you appear, his attention is completely diverted from them, and is now wholly interested in you. At this point, everyone knows that if they want Dottore to show a shred of normalcy, you need to be around. Dottore really tries to not treat you differently in public, still calling you an idiot and scoffing, but anyone who works with him can easily see it’s not done maliciously to you. When Dottore’s fellow researchers don’t understand something, he’ll ignore them while subtly insulting them, telling them to figure it out themselves. If you ask, he’ll grumble a bit, but go into full-length, in-depth lectures about anything you need.

The easiest way to unlock soft Dottore is if you knew him during his Sumeru Akademiya days. This Dottore and prime/Harbinger Dottore are different in my opinion. He was scorned in his hometown as well as the Akademiya so these wounds would still be fresh in his heart, even though he never shows it. So if you consistently show him any kind of kindness or positive attention, he would eat it up and slowly start to warm up to you. It would also be easier to get him to do things with you since he was just a student, not a Harbinger back then. (I’m just obsessed with the idea of you and Dottore getting along in the Akademiya. I think the antics you pull on him would be funny, and he would probably get mad at you but can’t bring himself to kick you out because he’s never enjoyed another’s company this much, although he refuses to admit that.)

You’re the first person he tells his discoveries to and your opinion matters more than anyone. Dottore’s noticeably more excited when talking about his research to you because you genuinely will sit there for hours on end while he explains all his theories and data and connections. No one has ever seen this side of Dottore. He sometimes sends you to the Fatui meetings instead of his clones to report because of his confidence in you. Also wants you to accompany him on any mission outside of Snezhnaya. You are always in tow with him wherever he’s going. You’re the only person who has seen his bedroom. You have stolen his mask and worn it too even though it keeps falling off your face.

Dottore doesn’t care about anyone but would raise hell if anything happened to you. He’s one of the strongest Harbingers and takes any rudeness against you as a personal insult to him. You’re the one person he’s deemed worthy enough to be with him, he wouldn’t let anyone else’s irrelevant opinion fly. You’re also the only person who can talk back to him without dying. Cue the two of you having long discussions while the rest of the Fatui watch in fear.

You’re the only thing that can tempt him away from his research. (That, and when he reaches his limits and falls asleep randomly.) The way he treats you is a huge warning sign to the other recruits to keep their hands off you unless they want to be experimented on by Dottore. Even though he’s soft on you, he still can be sarcastic and mean to you because that’s just how he is. But he’s observant and even if he doesn’t notice himself that he hurt you, his clones definitely will. So while he won’t apologize verbally, he’ll do something for you which is his own way of saying sorry. Speaking of being observant, this man knows literally everything about you, probably even more than you know about yourself. Will use this to his advantage to make you suffer or make you happy.

When Fatui soldiers get injured, they are sometimes sent to Dottore if the camps get too full (this is everyone’s nightmare.) He’s a very unethical doctor so his procedures of healing would not be pleasurable. But if you ever get hurt, God forbid, the sadistic side of him would be gone and his smile would disappear. Treats you as tenderly as his deadly hands could. (Fatui recruits still pass on this story for years.)

If you show any personal interest in experimenting on something yourself, Dottore would help you with the process. Gathers all the materials and tools and would be excited to show you the ropes. However, the first time you didn’t tell him what exactly you were doing and in the end roped him into doing some famous kids experiments. He would be baffled, upset, and then get seriously into it by critiquing every aspect of the experiment, by going into long rants about how it’s not very accurate. (It’s futile to explain to him that it’s designed for kids. You and Dottore making a volcano science experiment is real though.)

Pester him to let you braid and play with his hair. He denies this at first, but when you start going to his clones for this, immediately bans you from that and begrudgingly allows you to curl those two long bangs around your fingers. If anyone walks in on something like this, he makes a mental note to get rid of them later <3.

taglist: @heyhazelnut101, @peepopeepopeperoni

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #il dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #dottore fluff #genshin il dottore #genshin impact il dottore #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers

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sunshinebingo · 2 months

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@gwynrielweeksofficial Day 1 - Firsts

✨ Happy Gwynriel Weeks 2024 ✨

Synopsis: Gwyn musters up the courage to kiss the Shadowsinger.

Word Count: 1k

Read on Ao3

“I think the ending of the story could have been better…” Azriel explained.

“I see,” came out of Gwyn’s lips in response though her mind was thinking Do it.

“…but the characters are great,” he continued.

“Mhmm.”

Do it. I can’t. But I want to, her mind persisted.

Azriel kept giving his opinion about the book Gwyn had asked him to read a few days ago so they could discuss it together like they always did with every material that one recommended to the other. It was one of her favourite romance novels that she would recommend to anyone who was fond of the genre, or Spymasters who read romance only because their friends forced them to. But right now, Azriel could have been criticising it or ripping it to shreds that Gwyn would not have noticed.

“The main character is as stubborn as you. She is my favourite,” he said, the corners of his lips tugging into a smile. “I’d say my favourite parts are…”

Oh that smile. I want to taste it. I need to. Do it.

From the moment Azriel had started talking about that book, it had reminded Gwyn of all the time when she had read it too and had replaced the face of the love interest of the main character with that of Azriel. Hearing him talk of hand touches and secret rendezvous and stolen kisses was sending her mind into places she didn’t think he would be willing to follow. Gwyn had never been kissed before. And Mother above she wanted to know, for once in her life, what all the fuss was about. She wanted to know whether whatever fluttered inside her when she was near him would stop if she kissed him or whether the simple urge to kiss him would cease once she did it. She wondered if her eyes would finally stop being drawn to his lips.

If Azriel had not been looking at the novel that he was currently flipping through, he would have noticed that Gwyn was only half listening to what he was saying and that her gaze was glued onto his moving lips. He did, however, seem to notice that she was now much closer to him on the sofa than she was when they had sat down here some time ago.

“Berdara?” he asked as soon as he turned to look at her and noticed that the blush on her cheeks was much too intense to be justified by the temperature of the room since the open window of the private library had led the space to become quite chilly thanks to the cold breeze coming in.

Do it. Do it. Do it.

“Are you alright?” he asked, no doubt concerned by her silence as much as the strange look on her face.

Just do it once and forget about it, she thought. Do it. Do it. Do it.

Gwyn closed the little distance left between their bodies by gliding closer to him until her leg touched his. Gathering every ounce of courage she had built up to this point and telling herself that she would atone for her stupidity later, she placed a hand on his face and pressed her lips against his before he could finish saying her name.

The moment Gwyn felt how soft and perfect his lips were, she realised the terrible mistake that she was making. Her heartbeat increased, a sudden heat crept up her face and body as she slowly moved her lips against his. She was wrong. So very wrong. How could she think that one kiss would be enough? Who was she kidding? Why hadn’t she thought of the possibility that a single kiss would leave her wanting more, even as she still had her lips sealed to his?

She needed to stop before he pushed her away and asked what the hell was going on with her - why her hands were caressing his neck, why she was so close to him that her breasts were now pressed tight against his chest, why she wanted to jump on him, wrap her legs around his waist and beg him to deepen the kiss and teach her everything there was to know about pleasure. Those smutty novels must have turned her brain to mush. Perhaps she should take a break from them. Or perhaps she should read more to fill in the bigger gap that was forming between her need for him and actual reality.

Convinced that the hand he had brought to her waist was a request to stop, Gwyn pulled away, her eyes opening but staring down at her hands where she had placed them on her lap. Her internal monologue might have made it seem like the kiss had lasted for hours but it had only really been a few seconds. Maybe the memory of those few seconds would haunt her until the end of her days and the embarrassment would be her punishment.

When she looked up at Azriel, she found him staring back at her. His eyes were open wide, his mouth slightly parted and he seemed as though all coherent thoughts had been sucked from his beautiful head. Gwyn cleared her throat and stood up abruptly.

“I’m going to leave now before I lose my last shred of courage,” she said with as much firmness in her voice as she could muster.

With that, she turned on her heels and made her way to the door, leaving a dumbfounded Azriel behind. Her hand was already on the knob when a loud, “WAIT,” made her stop.

When she turned around, the sounds of Azriel’s rushed footsteps had already stopped and he stood before her. Gwyn didn’t have the time to take a full breath in before he wrapped a hand around her waist, grabbed her face with his other hand and kissed her.

#IT'S GWYNRIEL WEEKS #YAAAY!!!#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #fluff #first kiss #gwynriel fic #pro gwynriel #gwynriel weeks 2024 #gwynrielweeks2024

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weirdworldofwinnie · 9 months

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Heat of the Moment - One Night Passion

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Reader NSFW 18+ only, One shot

Summary: You, a young psychology student and friend of Jean Tatlock, drink a little too much at a Communist gathering and find yourself falling for the esteemed Dr. Oppenheimer himself.

Word Count: 3,830

Warnings: Age gap, Cheating, Drunkenness, Loss of virginity, Unprotected sex, Smut with little plot

Disclaimer: this is ONLY intended to be based on Cillian Murphy's portrayal of Oppenheimer in the film and takes place before he marries Kitty, moves to Los Alamos, and the development of the Trinity Test bomb. NOT historically or scientifically accurate and not supposed to be in support of the real man's life actions at all. DNI if you are uncomfortable or take issue with this. It is purely for entertainment purposes, and it is fantasy/fiction!

The party was brimming with people, many being prominent due-payers of the Communist party and you met your friend Jean's eye across the room through the warm glow and haze of cigarettes. She was standing with a few men and one woman as you approached, noticing one well dressed man in particular who had his back to you and you felt your heart involuntarily stutter when he turned, his wide strikingly blue eyes on you intensely. You swallowed and then Jean introduced you and he simply nodded with an amicable smile before turning back to the others in their discussion huddle. You were at bit surprised at his dismissiveness, but didn't take it too personally as you drifted over to get a drink from the bar area. Holding a full cocktail glass, you casually observed the room, noticing at once how Dr. Oppenheimer had one of those magnetic personalities, as long as you were an intellectual (although he was a good enough speaker that he could capture the attention of the common man and likely even someone who knew absolutely nothing about physics), yet at the same time he tended to eclipse everyone else around him. They all seemed to orbit around him in a fashion and the longer the night drew on, you too found yourself drawn to his quiet charisma and you now were seeing what Jean saw in him. After an hour of drinking and mingling around in various conversations, you mustered up the nerve to approach his ring again and stood next to your friend with only a couple other people you didn't know chatting to him about his teaching at Berkeley. He glanced at you, his eyes lighting with more interest than the initial impression.

"Hello again, Miss Y/N. Excuse me," he told the others and moved, breaking their circle to focus on you alone.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked politely but without waiting for an answer, he went to personally make a martini himself and then pour it into a crystal glass, topping it with a slice of lime. You were empty handed at the moment, but neglected to tell him you'd already had two glasses of alcohol already. He gave the filled glass to you, his fingers brushing your wrist as he did and you thanked him as he leaned against the counter with his own drink that almost mirrored yours.

"It's my preferential recipe. Do you like it?" he asked curiously as you drank and decided it tasted a bit bitter and tangy, so you just raised your eyebrows and smiled assuredly with what you thought was a convincing nod, however, he must have seen otherwise.

"Too bitter, isn't it? I'm working on it; it would probably be better off with a dash of honey." He raised his glass and suddenly swapped it with yours, taking a sip and giving a satisfied expression.

"Hmm, right. I'll remedy it and I do apologize, I was actually just testing you there for your opinion. I'll have this one, you enjoy mine instead."

Unsure of whether you should be flattered or not, you drank his original and it was more appeasing of your sweet tooth, and then he proceeded to ask you about what you were currently studying and how long you knew Jean.

You gave him simple answers at first, feeling a bit shy and guarded compared to the spotlight he projected. He was far from being a loud, obnoxious man but he wasn't timid in the slightest when it came knowledge and he gave off an air of aloofness and professionalism that slowly broke the more you opened up about psychology and politics while making it clear to him you considered yourself a somewhat free spirit trying to make your way in a predominantly male run world. It was refreshing to you that he actually sincerely listened and wasn't too condescending like other men you had encountered in the field.

"Interesting. Have you considered applying that to a career for the future, I assume you are aiming for a psychology degree? Or is it a base point to advance you into becoming a psychiatrist? I'm sure you would be able use medicine in addition to your Freudian theories to mitigate such deep mental issues."

"Well, to tell you the truth, I'm only my second year in for psychology and I doubt my father will pay for addition schooling on top of that, but theoretically yes, I would love to. It's my passion and I have a prudent desire to assist others, not just study them under a detached microscopic lens, so to speak. I want to help people understand who they are and I myself want to understand why their brains work the way that they do. And if some disorders could be cured with certain drugs when all else fails, I would consider that a great accomplishment for humanitarian progress."

"That certainly is a valuable asset, to understand one's self, and especially in this rapidly complicated changing world and the more we have a stronger grasp of the human mind, the better off we will be I suppose. But remember, to know is to do. Theory will only take you so far."

You nodded, soaking that in and taking an ample sip from the drink, which was spurring you on in confidence, so you began to ramble on about the damaging psychological impacts of war before jumping to the effects of practical versus ideological Communism on modern society... at least until a young man interrupted, joining the two of you for a while and you let Oppenheimer divert his attention to him instead as they delved into more physics, which you honestly only had a basic understanding of. You drained down the rest of the martini, refilling it with a simple gin instead to sip more than you should and you definitely were feeling tipsy as the evening wore on to a close, hovering by Oppenheimer's side constantly and perhaps even unconsciously flirting while ignoring Jean's stares from several feet away. He wasn't paying attention at the moment, so you turned to set down your empty glass, but stumbled into a stool on the way. You spun around, feeling Dr. Oppenheimer place a hand on your shoulder, steadying you.

"Perhaps you should retire for the night," he advised softly, close to your ear.

"No… I'm fine," you insisted, the heat rising to your cheeks as he took your shaky hand and you caught Jean giving you one last glare before she disappeared into a murky corner of the room. You looked back to him staring at you concernedly and you blinked as he spoke quietly.

"There, now where are you staying? Surely it can't be far, I'll take you home."

"N-No, my apartment's the next town over and you don't have to, I-I think I'll be okay..." you stammered absurdly and wavered on your feet, not the least bit sober. He changed direction, pivoting to catch you under your arms, and propping you up straighter.

"I believe there is a spare bedroom upstairs, I'll take you to it." Without another word, he led you out of the room and tottering up creaky stairs that led to an upper floor. A few doors down, he took you into an empty small stuffy room with a single queen bed. As you collapsed onto it, sighing deeply after a hiccup, he brushed aside the beige curtains and opened the window, letting the cool night air flicker through.

"Stay here, I'll be right back with some water," he said and exited for a few minutes, coming back shortly with two glasses of water in his hands, one for himself that he took a careful gulp from and you found yourself wondering if his mouth was dry or if he could be nervous. You accepted your cold glass and drank, washing down the strong mix of cocktails and gin taste from your tongue.

"A bit better?" he asked kindly, getting a nod in return as he took the glass from you and set it down on the bedside table next to his own. You watched as he stepped over and stood in front of the window, rustling the curtains. He stayed still there for a while in a pondering pose, smoking and staring out at the street below, presumably lost in thought as he often was. You made a sort of groaning noise and he turned, hand on his hip with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Are you going to be sick? Should I call for someone?"

"No!" you gasped, sitting up with a swirl of the room as he strode over to the door. You did not need your parents to find out about this, especially your father.

"Wait - Please don't leave," you begged and he hesitantly came over, abandoning his cigarette in the ash tray on the nightstand next to the glasses of water and sitting down, getting a good look at your bloodshot eyes and tousled hair, a few strands obscuring your vision. He gently took his hand and wiped the hairs off to the side of your face, his touch on your flushed cheek sending shivers up your spine. He leaned back, putting his hands on his knees and you let out a shaky breath, trying to reorient.

"Have you ever drank before?" he inquired knowingly and you laughed weakly.

"Of course I have."

"I'm afraid that you overdid it this time or otherwise you must have a low tolerance. I only offered you one drink after all." He held up his right hand, splaying his fingers apart.

"How many do you see?" he asked seriously and you only giggled, pushing his hand down.

"Five, maybe six? I feel finnee."

He shook his head, maybe amused, and you had the impulse to climb onto his lap, so you began to slide over, swinging your legs and scooting halfway onto his lap, making him blink in surprise and gasp slightly.

"What are you…?"

You shushed him and wrapped your arms seductively around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder with your ruby lips inches from his neck. He put his hand on your back uneasily and you whispered in his ear.

"Could you carry me to the bathroom?"

"I can't - What? Why?"

"I might be sick."

He pushed away, letting you slip off his slender body and sitting back onto the sheets with a light laugh.

"I think you should lie down again," he said firmly and you flumped your head onto the pillows, your face burning as he stood up, moving around to tug your feet out of your heels and then his hand caught, wrapping his fingers around your ankle and sending a sensation up your legs. You tilted forward, reading his oddly grim expression.

"What is it?"

"I should leave," he murmured, tossing the shoes to the floor and removing his hand reluctantly.

"You don't have to," you told him earnestly, struggling to grasp for him as he stayed at the end of the bed.

"You aren't in a normal state of mind, I'm afraid."

"Are you?"

"Not as much as I should be," he admitted with a sigh, knowing it would be inappropriate to sleep with Jean's friend that he had just met and it was unknown if you had a boyfriend or not.

"Well, I doon't caaare…" you slurred out and he went to sit on the bed next to you as you shifted, sitting up with your elbows. Dr. Oppenheimer gazed fondly and then you both began to instinctively lean into each other, his nose meeting yours and he tilted his head, giving you the incentive to lock lips and slide your tongue into his mouth, letting him reciprocate slowly until both parties pulled away, you panting excitedly.

This seemed to cause a chain reaction that had him scooting over closely so he was fully on the bed, loping his arms around at your back and you tugged at his black tie, wrestling with undoing it as he let go of you to shrug off his suit jacket and discard it, his breathing quickening. He slipped off his shoes and socks, dropping them over the bed with a clump before his fingers found the zipper on the back of your dress and he fumbled, forcing it down and letting it pool off your body to the sheets, running a hand over your bare skin. Pausing slightly with his hands nearing to unfastening your bra, he murmured urgently.

"Don't tell Jean about this."

"But she's my friend," you protested loudly and he put a finger to your lips with a 'shh' that made your heart palpitate.

"I don't want her to find out the hard way."

"She… She'll figure it out, right?"

"She may, but I don't want it to come from you. This is all my doing, I'll take the responsibility for my own actions, do you understand?"

"Oh yes, I do Mister J. Robert 'Oppie' Oppenheimer… What's the J stand for anyway?"

"Nothing important," he replied shortly and you reached to feel his bottom lip, smiling in curiosity.

"C'mon, tell me. Is it John, James, Joe...?"

He shook his head, closing his eyes and you laughed, tracing his defined cheekbones with your fingers.

"It's Julius," he admitted almost sheepishly and you cocked your head, cupping his chin.

"As in Julius Caesar?"

He wet his lips, the corners of his mouth twitching in annoyed amusement.

"Et tu, Miss Y/N?" He paused for a fraction of a second with a light sigh.

"Just call me Robert," he then told you and leaned in to kiss you again, caressing the sides of your face as he did so and you eagerly wound your tongue with his, passionately pressing into his face. He smelled heady; smoky and of aftershave mixed with some brand of cologne, not overpowering but enough to be noticed and mildly sting your nostrils when you went to mouth his neck.

He moved to hover over you, hands grazing your nearly naked body. You let him take the bra and he flung it over his shoulder to the floor and all that was left was your panties. You unbuttoned his light blue dress shirt and opened it up, stroking the light hairs on his chest as he fingered your panties, the last barrier to whatever was going to come into effect. Robert ran a single finger up along your abdomen and past to one of your breasts, circling the nipple and it hardened substantially at the stimulation, which he transferred over to the other one, teasingly fingering back and forth before he sank his face into your chest, his tongue trailing where his fingers had been and you whined, letting the budding arousal take you higher. Then he retracted his mouth, moving back and going to himself, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, popping them open to reveal boxers concealing his burgeoning, bulging cock with tightening testicles. He wriggled out of his pants, kicking them away to hang off the side of the bed and he leaned over, coming to hover on top of you and you felt the pressing of the underwear fabric hiding his growing penis, and you felt inclined to slide your hands down to grope it, fingers yanking at the band around his waist.

"Go ahead, take it," he encouraged and you pulled the boxers down, seeing he was already dripping with precum and your breath came in pants, anxious to feel him, but the rational part of your alcohol tainted brain was reminding you that you'd never taken it this far with a man before. He shifted, supporting himself by pressing his palms to the cream colored plump pillow behind your head and immediately settling over to align. You felt him trying to enter, your clitoris throbbing with anticipation, but he wasn't successful at first of getting in.

"God, you are too tight," he muttered and you froze, staring up at him as Robert now realized the exact nature of you.

"First time ever?" he asked with trepidation and you nodded somewhat shamefully, embarrassed. It wasn't like you hadn't been with men before, but this was the first for it to get this far with full-on penetration. He closed his eyes for a second, controlling his patience for he wanted so desperately to come inside of you, but he had to ask.

"How old are you?"

"I - Is that important?"

"Just please tell me you're at least 21 and don't lie about it."

"Yes, I'm over 21."

"Alright. Well, there's a first time for everything. I'll go slower."

He shimmied down your naked body until his head was at your vagina and he put his hands up on your stomach, massaging vigorously into your skin, eliciting a tiny happy moan. You never felt this aroused around anyone before and just his hands on any part of your body was pleasurable, so you hoisted your hips up to meet his touch. But then he stopped abruptly, displaying two fingers and you squinted, body aching for more.

"How many I am holding up now?" he asked and a delirious giggle erupted from you.

"T-Two."

"Correct," he praised and promptly slid them up into your moist entry, causing you to cringe painfully and make a noise that made you clamp your own hand over your mouth, afraid the people downstairs might hear.

"How is that? Okay?" he asked in a hushed voice, anxious to go further and you just nodded, taking deep breaths.

You were now getting so wet and he started pumping his fingers in and out, eventually gaining traction with three in and you were whimpering and moaning, so close to orgasming when he pulled them all out and sat back on his haunches, his tongue flicking across his lips in a kind of hunger.

"Don't stop," you pleaded and Robert's eyes were dilated with desire as he came down, burrowing his head in-between your thighs, gripping your legs and kissing your pussy before lifting his head and looking at you squarely.

"Oh, I won't."

Without further ado, he repositioned himself over you and slowly pushed in, his cock breaking at your walls. You moaned, the pleasure outweighing the sharp pain and you clenched around his shaft, letting him penetrate as far as he could go into your core. Within moments, you let the orgasm ripple through you as he kept at it, coming to his own climax that wasn't going to be outside of you.

"Fuck, this feels good..." you breathed, rubbing your palms on Robert's short cut dark hair and he couldn't hold back any longer... exploding with his own euphoria, emitting a primal grunt that became a loud gasp. He pulled out wetly a few moments later, shuddering from the exertion and you reeled in what had just happened. You just had intercourse with this brilliant man… Oh God. And you didn't want it to stop; you weren't done yet.

You rolled over so you were on top of his body now and you carefully settled down so you were sitting on his upright swollen cock and the rubbing of it against your clit was making you close to orgasming for the second time.

"Stop," he gasped suddenly, trying to push you away.

"W-Why?"

"That's how she does it." He frowned, licking his lips and you didn't have to ask to know who he was talking about.

"Do you… like it?"

"Yes, of course, but-"

"Then I'm doing it, it feels good for me too," you told him with no arguments allowed and both of you began to rock back and forth, his still hardened dick pushing up against your vagina. He thrusted in again and you groaned, quivering.

"Oh, good girl," he whispered and you almost lost it at the tone of his slightly husky voice. You certainly never got that from the few men you'd courted briefly that had turned out to be too immature or pigheaded. This man actually felt like a real decent, more experienced man.

"Robert...!" you squealed, letting the boom of climaxing implode inside of you. You leaned back, letting him slide out and you gripped his slick dick mixed with fluids from both you and him, your nails very gently stroking it as he smiled, throwing his head back against the pillow in relaxation and pure joy.

You orgasmed a couple more times after that, each nearly as strong as the last which was new to you. What the hell was it about Robert that made your libido go off the charts?

Finally the two of you collapsed back together, staring up at the ceiling above in ecstasy. His chest was rising and falling in rhythm with yours and gradually your body cooled down, though your face still felt hot and a dull headache was coming on, but the night breeze from the window was making goosebumps pepper up on your skin.

"Cold?" Robert asked softly, noticing.

"Mm-hmm."

He sat up and grabbed his wrinkled boxers before deftly swinging a leg out of bed, getting up to the floor and yanking them back on. He also hastily snatched up his pants and slid back into them, not bothering to zip or buckle as he went over to the window and peered out once more at the street, then firmly shut it, closing the curtains securely and heading back over to the bed, lifting a corner of the sheets up and crawling in next to your bare body.

You scooted under the sheets and cuddled into his slim side, playfully fiddling with a button on his open shirt and letting him wrap an arm around you as you dozed off, listening to the faint ticking of his wristwatch, feeling utterly fucked out and exhausted. He fought his own fatigue, considering getting up and leaving you in case someone found the two of you up here, lest it be Jean, but you felt so cozy and close, he couldn't bear to disconnect and leave you alone for the night.

He wasn't entirely sure what would become of this drunken rendezvous encounter that you may not remember entirely, knowing very well it was likely he may never find himself loving you like this again. He loved Jean, he very much did, but he wondered if you would accept his flowers as easily as you had accepted his sex? Jean was most definitely a complicated, intelligent woman and he wasn't sure if you were in the same vein as her, but it wouldn't surprise him if you were. Was he drawn to any other type, really? Women were fascinating to explore, a close second to the hidden world of quantum physics.

Robert studied your pretty sleeping features in the dim lighting and then closed his eyes, letting the orange aura of the room drift the both of you away far off into nothingness…

(Thanks for reading and if you really liked this, please let me know! I'm rather new to Cillian Murphy and not well versed at all in writing one of his characters with smut, but there was just something I found so attractively compelling about him as Oppenheimer especially, so maybe this is a bit self-indulgent, but he's such a great actor that is also very sexy of course.❤️)

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vasito-de-leche · 4 months

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I love how you write, your interpretations of characters are my favorite. If you're okay with it, may I ask for romantic headcanons of Horropedia (Reverse 1999) x Reader? I would love to know what he is like when he's developing a crush, how he confronts his feelings when he realized them, what he's like when in a romantic relationship, etc. Thank you very much!

;R1999 HORROPEDIA - Relationship Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons about Horropedia in a romantic relationship.

awe! i'm glad you like my stuff! and thank you for the lovely words and request, cause i've been itching to write for horropedia <3

i got a liiiiittle carried away with this one, hope that's alright!

Horropedia as a character is fascinating because at a surface level he's a mess and a walking stereotype - a "nerdy nerd" with a very specific hyperfixation on the horror genre, the tall guy with glasses who explains the plot and does his own thing regardless of how others view him, the first one to die in a movie solely because he's perceived as cringe etc, etc.

And yet, his medium is "logic" - he, better than anyone, understands the nonsensical laws that make up the concept of horror, he sees the patterns and the reason why some things are done this way instead of that way. Through logic, pattern recognition and analysis, Horropedia can pretty much understand anything and work his way around any problem, no matter how unorthodox his solutions may be.

In a sense, I'd compare Horropedia to Pavia. Both are characters who are subject to the stereotypes and images others assign to them - but whereas Pavia both fights and plays into all of these roles, Horropedia just brushes it off and continues doing his own thing, being genuine and unapologetically himself.

When it comes to romance, it's easy to assume Horropedia has no interest in it - they're two different genres that don't go together most of the time. It's also easy to assume that he would be a troublesome partner, due to the laser focus attention he gives to his interests. And the latter is partially true: his lackluster love life is entirely because romance hasn't entered his radar, at least not enough to pull his attention away from his one true love.

But I think this is where the aspect of "logic" comes into play. All Horropedia needs is that spark, to find something to truly become invested in when it comes to romance - once he finds it, he'll dedicate the same amount of attention to detail and care as the horror movies he loves so much.

On the subject of Horropedia developing a crush.

Similar to Click, Horropedia would need some time to start noticing the signs of a crush - the difference is that Horropedia is a little quicker when it comes to realizing he's fallen for someone. His forte is horror movies, but he still knows a thing or two when it comes to other genres.

When he cannot rationalize his behaviour around you in a way that makes sense to his current fixation or situation, that's when he knows. And given how straightforward (to the point of bordering on obliviously rude) Horropedia can be, I'd say he'd also be the type to address this crush right away. Now that there's this brand new thing in his life, he'd like to understand it better - to dissect and study the way romance is potrayed, explore how it feels and just analyze it to hell and back. Basically, he wants to know the rules, to figure out how to best proceed.

Of course, he wouldn't dream of confronting you directly, only an amateur would do such a thing. Instead, he asks his friends and pretty much anyone within his general vicinity. He wants to understand romance from every angle, to hear about it from all sorts of people until he feels like he knows enough to start forming his own opinions.

His questions are all theoretical situations that begin rather innocent, innocuous. What does the hero of a romcom do to get the romantic interest? Does it follow a three act structure? And should the third act climax start with a confession or the breakup?

Overtime, they become a little more specific. To the point where his closest friends might suspect something is up, until Horropedia finds himself asking about your interests so that he can figure out the perfect gift for you. Just in case. He finds himself watching romcoms and making extensive research and charts and essays into the genres.

The funniest thing to me is that Horropedia would be extremely casual about this whole ordeal, this crush makes him extremely intrigued in the concept of romance (an oddity for someone so themed around horror), he finds himself staring at you from across the room (this is the third time he's walked into a door because of it) and so on and so forth. But he's so chill about it.

When confronted about his crush - should Blonney or anyone else decide to tease him a little by prodding - Horropedia has no problem blurting out that he has, indeed, fallen for someone. But he'll take your name to the grave, not out of shame or embarrassment but because "he doesn't want to spoil the plot, as obvious as it might be".

On the subject of Horropedia confronting his feelings and some more insight into his mentality.

I'd say there is this small possibility of Horropedia feeling disheartened if he begins to neglect his real passion for the sake of his feelings - it's that sort of guilt and shock one gets when they realize they've forgotten their wallet the moment they're meant to pay for dinner, or when they realize they've forgotten to turn off the oven.

Horror is a huge part of his life and who he is as a person - literally look at the name he's chosen for himself - and given how heavily coded he is to be neurodivergent, I can understand this aspect of him. The feeling like one must choose between two things they enjoy, and all the other things that might come with hyperfixation, both positive and negative.

This is the biggest obstacle for Horropedia when it comes to finally taking the first steps into forming a relationship with you or confessing - the irrational thought that by doing so, he's prioritizing you and romance over horror, something that he holds very dear. One of his stories gives some insight about Horropedia's relationship with horror and how it's something he shared with (and possibly was started by) his grandfather.

I feel like he'll grow a little distant, as a way to set some boundaries for himself or draw a line between his identity and his feelings for you, separate the two so that he doesn't have to feel guilty for giving one more attention than the other. Maybe he simply stops bringing up films around you, because "you're probably not that interested anyway". Masking, he's masking.

But overall, I can see Horropedia being capable enough to get out of this mindset by himself - or with a little help from someone else. Either way, he simply loops back to realizing the obvious: you two were friends, before he realized his feelings for you. You were fine with the whole Horropedia Experience. You liked him for who he was. And he liked you just as you were.

Horropedia is the one who confesses first, the one who asks you out. 100%. And it's so unnecessarily dramatic.

I DO think that Horropedia would make sure to be the one who confesses, just so he can put everything that he's learned about romance into play. And he delivers the most award worthy performance. It would be all about redirection, an unexpected reveal - his skills and animations are also all about fake outs and misleading the audience, after all.

In my head, there's this whole scene about Horropedia asking everyone to help him out confess to you, and everyone is so excited for it - but then he just asks them to fuel this slow rift that formed between you and him, to act vague, distant and mysterious should you ask Blonney or Tooth Fairy about him. Again, unorthodox and weird, but he's cooking. This is all done with the intention of forcing a confrontation between the two of you, just so he can pour his heart out right there - it's all or nothing.

Again, I want to insist that Horropedia, despite being a logical man, still makes as many aspects of his life revolve around the things that he loves and is interested in - he likes films, he likes you. And while romance is not his preferred genre, he still wants to explore all there is about it all thanks to you.

That alone should tell you how much you mean to him. Even if his methods aren't the "proper" way, you know he's putting his whole heart into this. It's all over the top, there's fake rain, etc etc. Of course, your reaction to this is up to you!

If you're mad at him for such convoluted plan, he'll sit there and allow you to scold him to your heart's content - he's used to it as one of the many troublemakers that the Foundation failed to raise as model students. If you laugh at him because of how ridiculous this guy can be sometimes, he'll laugh along, trying to get you to tell him what he could've been done better to get a third act reconciliation. And if you start crying, jump into his arms and play along then he'll be over the moon, trying every single impactful one-liner from every romcom he's watched in the past few weeks.

On the subject of Horropedia and how he acts when he's in a relationship.

Dating Horropedia is pretty easy, because you're dating your best friend. However, it is very easy to misunderstand Horropedia's way of showing affection - those who are more on the insecure side or less receptive to his subtleties may feel like there's been absolutely no shift in the dynamic, that he's treating you the same way he'd treat Tooth Fairy or Vertin.

This is far from the truth! Once Horropedia finally settles into the relationship, he grows very comfortable and allows himself to just exist around you - which isn't saying much since he doesn't mask as much around friends, but it's all about the subtle things!

I like to think Horropedia is very particular about space, as in he makes a point not to invade people's spaces if possible and he'd rather remain in his little bubble. But when it comes to you, he's very casual with physical touch. He's not as cuddly and touchy as characters like, let's say, Matilda, Jessica or Pavia, but being able to rest his head on your shoulder means a lot to him, or just have you lean on him when sitting together. This is pushed to the limit when you two pull all-nighters, binging all of your favorite movies.

He's on cloud nine when you pay attention to his ramblings and makes sure to listen when you ramble to him as well. More than often, he'll do his own little research into the topics you like, just so you have someone to properly discuss things with! Horropedia more than anyone knows what it's like to be brushed aside for being too much or too weird, to have no one listen. Despite his confidence, he has had days of feeling like he keeps on talking to a wall, so he doesn't want you to ever feel like that.

It's all about sharing interests and recommending things that you may like, keeping up with the latest events and so on and so forth, having looong discussions at night about whatever topic you two are extremely invested in.

If these discussions get a little heated and end up as arguments, expect Horropedia to insist on arguing because he's just stubborn like that - it'll take him time to realize that he might've hurt your feelings, or that he might've be hurting too, but he'll come around eventually to talk it out.

Overall, dating Horropedia would be fun because he's full of surprises and excitement, but he's also considerate in his own way.

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #r1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 headcanons #reverse 1999 horropedia #horropedia #hes autistic guys hesl iterally so fucking autistic im itching to write an analysis on him bc his quotes give so much. insight into #how the foundation treats arcanists AND their potential ableism BUT LIKE. HES SO AUTISTIC HES JUST LIKE ALL OF US FR

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messiahzzz · 1 month

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Hello! I love your meta-analysis of BG3 and share many of the same opinions concerning our boy, Gale. I have an interesting question for you concerning the orbs "volatility" in relation to intimacy (both physical and non-physical). I used to believe it was cannon that Gale couldn't engage in physical intimacy because the Orb may detonate, but when I played as Gale I was able to sleep with Astarion. This is in contrast to when I played as Karlach and couldn't touch anyone.

So, all of this is to ask whether Gale's dialogue at the tiefling party was him protecting himself emotionally or if he truly thought that any excitement would trigger the Orb (ironic given they are fighting for their lives daily)? Additionally is this why the Weave scene only features an imagined kiss rather than a physical one?

thank you so much for the questions!! i’m very glad you enjoy reading my posts 💕

gale: with my condition being as volatile as it is, i fear any undue, er, excitement, may tip it over the edge. so to speak.

i do believe that gale was being honest in regards to avoiding physical/emotional excitement concerning the orb. his first and foremost priority is to make sure to avoid as many potential triggers as possible, being fully aware of the catastrophe that will occur if he doesn’t keep an eye on his condition at all times. fighting is inevitable given the situation the group found themselves in. on top of that, every single day for the past year alone has quite literally been a life or death situation for him, wondering how much longer he can hold on until the orb inevitably takes over. i also think that he has experienced his fair share of horrors and tough fights in his past, considering his status as an archmage, as well as him being mystra’s chosen. even with his now diminished powers & the tadpole in his head he still remains in his element. magic is his life, it comes as easy to him as breathing.

gale: i'm what one might call a wizard prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the weave, but compose it, much like a musician or a poet.

more importantly, the devnotes also proof that the orb is indeed the reason for his deflection during the tiefling party:

gale: i see. then perhaps we see each other in the same light after all. a resplendent one, flush with warmth and anticipation, but one which i must shy away from, for now. node context: still flustered, but pleased to learn you like him romantically. then getting to the point - he can't do anything until the orb is dealt with.

if tav directly tells him to cease the perceived flirting, he will reveal that he considered their relationship to be a "budding romance" at this stage.

player: if this is an attempt at flirting, you should stop. i'm not interested. gale: right. understood. you shall hear no more on the subject from me. gale: consider this budding romance thoroughly nipped. though i hope our friendship need not come to such an abrupt end.

yet at the same time, he is also completely flustered if tav is the one who initiates the flirting:

player: do you like having your belly rubbed? gale: the pleasures i experienced in mystra's embrace go far beyond the pleasures of having one's tummy tickled. i remember once, she took the smallest piece of the weave and made it into- gale: wait. are you saying... nodecontext: taking the question seriously, missing the flirtatious side of it. nodecontext: realizing that the player was flirting, getting flustered

regardless of which flirt option tav chooses to pick, the outcome remains the same:

gale: you know what, i think i've clearly had far too much wine. and you've had nowhere near enough. i think this is a conversation best held back on - for now. nodecontext: flustered, hesitating to explicitly say what he thinks you were offering, then backtracking altogether

while battle naturally is always accompanied by the unpredictable, (as well as the dread of facing a yet unknown enemy) i don’t think he experiences quite the same amount of trepidation as where matters of the heart are concerned. or perhaps it would be more accurate to say it’s an altogether different kind.

the budding relationship with tav is once again unfamiliar territory for him after all those years he went without mortal intimacy, years that have been spent with mystra instead. it’s understandable that he exercises caution at all times, knowing what’s at stake if he lets go for but merely a moment. i also believe gale to be a character who generally goes “all out” once he chooses to be intimate with someone. we know that he doesn’t do casual trysts, friends-with-benefits arrangements, or anything of the sort. instead he wants to build a deep connection first. gale is a romantic through and through, he only feels comfortable being intimate once it has been explicitly established that the emotions he feels for tav are indeed wholly reciprocated. gale puts his whole heart into everything he does, he would’ve felt that it was a disservice to tav if he was only able to give them (according to him) even less than the remaining fragments of a broken man he has to offer — once he decides to give himself, he gives himself fully.

another added factor, however, is that the tiefling party simply wasn’t the right time for him yet, even if he already felt some attraction to them. part of him perhaps would’ve liked to go a bit further, be more direct about his growing fondness for them. spending a night together, just enjoying each other's company, talking until the sun rises, perhaps even sharing their first kiss if he felt that the timing was right — but i don’t think he would’ve considered this to be the appropriate stage in their relationship to sleep with tav either way. orb or no.

gale also tells us this much during the Last Night Alive scene, as well as during the conversation after you just met tara. in an ideal situation he would’ve taken his time, courted tav properly, said it all better.

gale: if things were different, if we were home, i'd have taken the time to do things properly. to say it all better. but time is short.

gale: i always imagined what it would be like when you finally got to meet her. this wasn't quite what i had pictured. gale: i thought we'd be in waterdeep. you, curled up before a crackling hearth while i prepared us a ridiculously extravagant meal, served with a batch of my homemade hundur sauce.

time is short.

i always headcanoned gale to be on the demi spectrum. that he needs to build a close bond before sexual intimacy is something that even remotely occurs to him. tav is an anomaly in this regard — he knows he deeply cares for them, emotions that developed even in the short, few months they've known each other, and that he doesn’t have the luxury of time to let their relationship unfold in all the many ways he dreamed of. all he knows is that he loves tav, wholly and truly. and that, by the gods, he has to make the most out of the few extra heartbeats he’s been given. even if his death is inevitable, he will at least be able to show them the depths of his affection. leave them with shared memories of pure tenderness, a knowledge of a love so profound that it might perhaps even prevail way beyond his passing.

player: what about all we shared together? are you just going to give up? gale: this isn't giving up it's securing victory, at a price i am willing to pay. and everything we shared can live on - with you.

i wouldn’t necessarily say that gale was trying to “protect himself emotionally” during the tiefling party, but rather acted accordingly to the horrifying circumstances the tadpole gang (and especially he himself) find themselves in. i don’t think gale ever really considers a romanced!tav as someone he needs to be guarded around. evident in the way he immediately throws all doors open without any sign of hesitation once he has their assurance that their love is indeed mutual. gale pours his heart out to them regardless, not knowing whether his feelings are truly returned. he is not a character who shies away from being vulnerable by any means. he is an open book, that tav is free to peruse in as they see fit. a slither of trust is all he needs.

during the weave scene the connection abruptly fades once tav either imagines passionately kissing him or holding his hand during a romantic walk. a scene that again shows that he is genuinely stunned by what he’s being shown. after all, it doesn't happen often that gale of waterdeep is at a loss for words.

gale: i... i didn't think... narrator: *you perceive quick-fire gusts of embarrassment, trepidation, and finally... elation.* gale: sorry, i wasn't expecting... but it is a pleasant image to be sure! gale: most pleasant, in fact. most welcome. nodecontext: warm, with real affection

i do believe the weave scene in particular to be a turning point for him. sort of an epiphany. the first moment in which he realizes that he actually might like the idea of eventually being with tav as perhaps more than a friend. that he is filled with fondness whenever they’re near and that he is excited to see where their joined travels lead them next.

player: when i said we could be more than friends, you answered 'perhaps'. what does that really mean? gale: if i recall correctly, the waterdhavian dictionary of the common tongue of faerun defines it as an adverb that conveys the meaning of 'it may be that', or 'possibly'. gale: you see, i'm not a big believer in fate, but i do believe in serendipity. gale: life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace. gale: you're one such event that, one day soon perhaps, i'd like to embrace.

given my personal hc of gale being demisexual, i genuinely don’t believe that he entertained the thought before that. he was way too preoccupied with other more pressing concerns. his overall condition, the tadpole, mourning the loss of his powers, still dealing with a lingering sense of loneliness and melancholy. a yearning for better times, as well as disillusionment of being cast out and left behind, even if he has already worked through his romantic feelings for mystra and their unilaterally ended relationship by then.

gale: i'm hardly pining. it's been a year or more since mystra cast me aside.

tav’s advances genuinely catch him off guard, which is, according to my interpretation, also the reason why their shared connection abruptly faded. a general loss of focus. gale immediately bidding tav goodnight to reflect on the situation and sort through his thoughts again shows that this wasn’t how he expected this moment of teaching to unfold. it seems rather uncharacteristic of him to initiate a kiss in this specific scenario. tav was testing the waters, whether it happened intentionally or not, and gale found himself pleasantly surprised by the turn of events.

i also believe that we generally shouldn’t use origin playthroughs as a cross-reference for the actual canon. larian approached each story with more or less detail and there are already so many inconsistencies present that have been pointed out by other players. instead we should see origin pts as an oc kind of scenario — larian handing us the reigns of each origin character, a way for us to have fun and figure out all the atrocities we could possibly come up with. sort of like playing with our own set of barbies. (“go nuts, show nuts” as tunglr staff put it back in the day) for example, playing as w*ll doesn’t lock you out of raiding the grove and spending a steamy night with m*nth*ra right after either. which is something that contradicts everything he stands for/something he wouldn't naturally do. even if you try to play an origin character as close to their canon portrayal as possible, you will still encounter several contradictions and discrepancies during the duration of your game. larian sadly also has a chronic pattern of overlooking gale in terms of content, fixes, and overall responsiveness. so it’s easy to conclude that his origin story simply hasn’t been fleshed out to the same extent & treated with the same amount of care and consideration that certain other characters received. (which is awfully ironic considering he’s been proven to be the most popular origin character, but i digress)

basically, this has been my very long-winded way of saying: the reason why gale refuses to be intimate with tav pre-orb stabilization is indeed because he is afraid of the orb accidentally detonating during a moment of carelessness and/or indulgence, as well as because of gale’s own preferences when sex & romance are concerned.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 meta #long post #asks #gale's romance is the most delicious kind of slow-burn #or well. it would be if larian had actually bothered to put the same care and resources into his story #instead of merely cutting content and deciding to do a 180 #it speaks #please don't check for grammar i wrote this in a rush

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seoafin · 4 months

Text

dog days are over | chapter eight

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags (for this chapter): gojo word count: ~9.6k

fic masterlist read on ao3

“No need to look so nervous! Loosen up!”

You try your best to smile, despite the nerves bundled in your stomach. “Thank you for inviting me out, Ikeda-san.”

She beams at you, opening the menu in front of her. You stare at her glossy, perfectly shaped nails and the smooth skin of her hands. You remember the softness of them. Still, there is no ring on her finger.

“Please, call me Meiko. And of course! Don’t tell Gojo and Geto, but I’ve always wanted to talk to you.”

Surprised, you say, “Me?”

“The mysterious fourth classmate of Jujutsu High’s 2008 graduating class. I was always so curious about you.” She smiles, and you are drawn to the cherry red of her lipstick. “Especially since those two are notoriously tightlipped about you.”

You’re sure it’s because there’s nothing to talk about when it comes to you.

“I’m not that interesting,” you say politely, because in your opinion, you really aren’t. “I’m sure you weren’t missing much.”

“Is that really what you think?” She leans forward, placing her chin on top of her threaded fingers. “I think you’re plenty interesting.”

Your face warms. Nobody’s ever called you interesting before. You meet her gaze. “Is there something you need, Ike—Meiko-san?”

She laughs. “Please, you’re so formal! No need for the honorific, you’ll make me self conscious. We’re nearly the same age! If I’m being honest, I just wanted to get to know you.”

“Because we have…” you consider her carefully, “a lot in common?”

Once again, she bursts into laughter. It’s not mocking, but amused. “I thought maybe you’d feel a little more comfortable if we had…common ground.”

The common ground being…

Your face flushes with heat. “Is it…” you stare at the plate laid flat in front of you, stomach churning in distress, “obvious?”

You think back to every single semi public interaction with Suguru and Satoru. Maybe someone had caught a glimpse of Suguru’s knuckles brushing against yours, walking a little too close to you to be considered casual acquaintances. Maybe someone had seen Satoru draw you close to him. It hadn’t been discreet. Satoru’s never been discreet. Not enough. And now you’re paying the consequences.

Your palms go sweaty.

“Oh, it seems I’ve worried you,” Meiko looks concerned. “It was just a guess,” she murmurs gently, reaching out for your hand. Your heart starts with a jerk when her hand closes around you. “An inkling if you will. Woman’s intuition?”

They are soft. They smell like peach flavored hand lotion. Relief sweeps through you like a cool balm. “Oh,” you say breathlessly. “Thank god.” It slips out before you can help it.

“It’s rare to see Geto and Gojo so ruffled,” she chuckles. “Geto especially. I can never tell what he’s thinking with that smile of his…I just wanted to tease them a little, you know? Make them sweat.” She studies you, face sobering. “They hold you in the highest regard.”

The she winks, and calls over a server.

She must be a regular here because she easily strikes up a conversation with your server about the new seasonal specials. You then watch in slight awe as she proceeds to order one of every single thing on the menu.

At your expression, she grins. “Instead of deliberating, isn’t it easier to just order the entire menu? That way we can try a little of everything. Besides, my palate gets a little bored with one plate.”

You blink. It strikes you as something Satoru would do. Order every single sweet on a menu to have his pick. The world of jujutsu elites and their bottomless bank accounts is truly something beyond your understanding.

“When Ieiri-san said you were coming to my reception as her plus one, I was surprised,” Meiko says. “I asked Gojo for your availability, and he said you were busy. Honestly,” she huffs, “selfish men are the worst!”

Satoru said you were busy? You wonder if he thought you’d somehow embarrass him and Suguru. Somehow, you can’t fault him. People just don’t seem to like you, and it’s probably your fault. “You wanted me to come?”

“Of course I did.” She makes a face. “Instead I had to deal with that Kumiko. The nerve of her to seat herself at my table! In your seat!”

She scans you, as if to gauge the measure of your outrage. You simply only look at her, unblinking as your mind runs wild with all the possible ways to navigate the rest of this conversation without stepping on any landmines. You're not good at this.

“I wasn’t aware you two were acquainted.”

Meiko’s smile turns tight. “We were briefly homeschooled together. Flower arranging class.” She spits out.

Her face clouds darkly.

You quickly change the subject. “I wonder when the food—”

Meiko’s eyes narrow. “ Wait. Are you acquainted with her?”

“J-Just briefly…”

“That snake,” her fingers fist tightly. “Of course she’d worm her way into your life!” She slams a fist onto the table. You wince. “It’s Geto isn’t it?” She scoffs. “I heard she got stood up by Gojo, but to think she was that shameless—”

“She likes him,” you say, a little more firmly than you intended. A look of surprise paints her face at your sudden boldness. You settle down, embarrassed. “I think…her feelings are genuine,” and it’s wrong to undermine them. The fondness in her eyes is real. You of all people understand her feelings. You love Suguru too.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize weakly.

Meiko exhales deeply. “No, I am. I always get carried away when it comes to her. We’ve always had bad blood between us. I suppose we’ve just never seen the world the same way. It’s always been her dream to be married to an influential man,” her voice turns bitter. “To be a perfect wife. To bear sons with cursed techniques. You could say we were bred for it. Disgusting pigs like that Zenin Naoya are a dime a dozen in jujutsu society. But unlike me, Kumiko was actually born with a powerful cursed technique.” There’s a bitter note to her voice. “What a waste.”

You don’t know what to say to her. You’ve never been good at knowing what to say at the right time. Not like Suguru.

But Meiko continues, “I suppose that’s why it’s a surprise to everyone she’s still not married. A lot of people think it’s because her clan elders are holding out for Gojo.” She snorts. “I guess everyone is expecting him to get married soon too, and have children. Lots of children.” She pauses, “Though I suppose they don’t mind the unmarried part as much as the not-impregnating-women part.” She raises an eyebrow. “They do make quite the pair, don’t they?”

You get the strongest feeling of deja-vu.

Your face warms, looking at anything but Meiko. “I…”

“They work even better together too,” she remarks with a sigh. “Unfortunately, good looks can’t save them from their lousy personalities.” She shoots you a sympathetic look.

L-Lousy personalities…

Clearing her throat, she says, “The Gojo clan elders and higher ups from Fukuouka are convening in Tokyo to try and convince Gojo to get married. To secure the Gojo line.”

You stare at her.

Meiko’s expression gives away to surprise. “You didn’t know?”

“Nobody mentioned it,” you answer truthfully. It clears up a lot of the happenings at the school. Perhaps they had come to Tokyo because Satoru refused to come to them. You knew Satoru’s less than enthusiastic feelings towards the burdens pushed on him by clan politics, such as marriage. A part of you can’t help but wonder if that had spurred Satoru and Suguru’s actions towards you. That and pity you suppose. In your first year, Satoru often used to remark that you seemed like you’d be the type to die alone. He wasn’t wrong.

“The Zenin and Kamo’s want him to take a bride from their own families, but the Gojo clan’s own preference is someone like Sasaki. Someone from a distinguished lineage and a clan that’s not as powerful as one of the big three. They don’t want a strong clan interfering in interfamily politics. It’s all terribly political.” She makes a face. “They want him to consider mistresses from other families too. He’s not the only one. Geto’s been fielding all kind of offers too. His cursed technique is too valuable, and the Zenin’s have always been greedy.”

Of course the Gojo clan would want someone as delicate and refined as Sasaki. She’s beautiful, talented, and holds a revered cursed technique. It would be easy to fall in love with her, if the way Suguru talks highly of her means anything.

You try to process the rest of the information, but all you can think of is marriage, marriage, marriage. Your head is spinning. Had your parents’ marriage been rife with such difficulties? This can’t be normal. You are confronted by the realization that the day Satoru and Suguru get married might be closer than you think. It throws your thoughts into disarray. All this time you’ve been unaware of the specifics and complexities of jujutsu society as it pertains to someone of Satoru and Suguru’s positions. They’ve never confided in you, and you think it’s for good reason. You’ve been so caught up in your own head that it never occurred to you that they might be troubled too. What a friend you’ve been lately.

Spirits dampening, you lower your gaze. “Is…that right…”

Luckily, you’re saved from a more coherent answer because the food comes. A line of waiters approach your table. Twelve plates, large and small, are set down in quick succession. You stare at the colorful array of dishes. Another waiter makes an appearance with a bottle of expensive looking wine, pouring the two of you a glass.

Meiko loads food onto your plate. “Eat up! You seem like you could use a good meal.”

“Thank you…” Eating saves you the trouble of having to speak when you don’t have the words. It’s easy. The food is delicious.”

“This is the restaurant that catered my food during the reception,” Meiko says, taking a bite of her ricotta peach salad. “I hope you enjoyed the food, then and now.”

“It’s delicious,” you admit with a smile. “Thank you for bringing me.”

A wide smile hangs on her face. “Of course! It was a terrible night, but it might have been a little better if you had been there.”

A warm flush creeps into your face. “I would’ve liked to have met you too,” you say shyly, hesitantly. You like Meiko, you think. It’s easy to like her, with her bold personality. There's a frankness to her that reminds you of Shoko. A familiarity. You wonder what she sees in you. You wonder if your night would’ve been different had you met her instead of Hideo.

You’re thoughtful. “You didn’t seem very happy at your wedding.” The words come out before you can stop it.

Meiko goes quiet. You quickly move to retract your statement, realizing it was insensitive of you to say something. “I’m so—”

Meiko lifts her wine to her lips and slams it down, emptied. “I didn’t want to get married. Not then, not ever. I thought my father had given up on it, after I scared the fifth suitor away.” She takes the bottle and nearly fills her glass to the brim. “Only to find out my father had given away my hand without my knowledge when I came back from visiting my mother in Hokkaido.” She takes a long drink. “To a politician of all people! It was horrible. I threw a fit, hoping to convince my father. You can imagine how well that went.”

You can’t imagine being unknowingly married, bound to spending the rest of your life with a stranger. It feels like the puzzle pieces are slowly coming together. Meiko’s sour expression throughout the entire reception. Shoko’s comment about the unwilling bride. You can’t do anything but commiserate with her in silence.

“My father said he’d be willing to break off talks if…” she trails off, looking vaguely uncomfortable for the first time since the evening started. “At the time, I hadn’t realized those two were into women.”

You nearly choke with laughter.

It’s an understandable mistake. The nature of Satoru and Suguru’s relationship have always raised eyebrows. They’ve never hidden it. It’s a truth, never presumed, never spoken, lest it be true. Or spreads. Satoru and Suguru have always enjoyed making people uncomfortable to an almost sadistic extent. You’ve seen people squirm in their seats beneath Suguru’s pleasant smile, Satoru’s creeping menacing grin.

Meiko looks amused now, eyeing you with an understanding you don’t quite get. “My mistake.”

You sober. “The reception…”

“He spent the entire time with Gojo and Geto, trying to worm his way into their good graces. He has ambitions, you see.” A mirthless smile. “He wants to be prime minister of Japan one day, and everyone knows it’s Gojo’s vote that matters the most when it comes to selecting the political face of Japan, and my father already has very strong ties to the current Kamo head.”

Oh you knew that. Upon watching a political debate with Shoko in the common lounge your first year of jujutsu tech, Satoru had taken up all the space on the couch with wide legs, eaten all your popcorn, and watching the current prime minister’s effective response to the burgeoning inflation, had commented that it was an aggressive policy for the mild and meek man who had cowered in the face of him and the Zenin and Kamo heads.

Shoko and Suguru had simply looked at him until Satoru shrugged and said that between the current prime minister and his former opponent, personally, he had flipped a coin before casting his vote. Suguru gawked at him, and had spent the rest of the week questioning the legitimacy of the political institutions in Japan.

To this day, you’re unsure of whether or not Satoru was joking.

Sometimes, the thought that the fate of your nation rests in Satoru’s hands makes you a little uneasy.

You try not to think about it often.

She snorts. “It wasn’t as bad as our first night.”

You straighten immediately.

“He didn’t touch me,” she clears up quickly. “Or force me, if that’s what you think. He slept on the couch actually.” Her face goes thoughtful. “It’s more than you can say of a lot of men in jujutsu society,” she completes darkly.

Relief shoots through you. “If you ever need help…” This time, it’s your turn to squeeze her hands reassuringly. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

Meiko looks touched. “You’d help me?”

“I’m not all that impressive,” you respond truthfully, a little embarrassed at your bold proclamation with nothing but intent to back it up. You aren’t in a position of any strength to be promising easy help. But you’d do anything you could. “But I’m sure I could ask Satoru and Suguru to help if necessary too.” And if whatever you could meant pleading to Satoru and Suguru on the behalf of someone else, you wouldn’t even have to think about it.

“Satoru and Suguru are good people,” despite the opinions of others. Despite…what Meiko may think. They are, you know it. You’re sure they’d intervene if needed, not because you asked.

She sniffs. You look at her in alarm. Then you realize the bottle of wine is empty.

“I’m sure…” she swallows, eyebrows furrowing as she tries to piece together her sentence. “I’m sure they’d do anything, if you asked them.”

You’re sure she’s just flattering you, so you smile, and motion for the waitress before Meiko can order another bottle. You hope she doesn’t cry. A pretty, crying woman would have you flying into a panic. You prepare yourself to call Shoko for advice just in case, although for crying women matters Suguru would probably be your first choice.

The bill is placed. You figure you should pay since she took the liberty of inviting you out in the first place, but there’s a black card in her hand before you can even blink. The waitress smoothly takes it, just as Meiko’s fist slams down onto the table.

“They don’t deserve you!” She exclaims, drawing stares from other tables. “You’re too good for them!”

The server hurriedly rushes away, presumably to quickly check you two out.

Your server returns with Meiko’s card and helps you collect her. Luckily, she’s not drunk enough to be immobile, but she tilts precariously as you two walk her outside. The weight of her body leaning on yours is almost pleasant. She must be a lightweight. Like Satoru. You don’t mind it. It reminds you of the time you had had to drag Satoru to his room after he mistook Shoko’s flask of alcohol for apple juice. Outside, a sleek black car awaits.

“Meiko,” you say, “would you like to stay at my apartment tonight?”

Her voice is small as she hides her face in the crook of your neck. Your heart nervously starts in your chest. “...Do you mind?”

You manage a smile. “Not at all.”

The driver (the same driver from before you recognize), a kind looking middle aged man, takes Meiko as you thank the waitress. When the two of you are seated, Meiko slurs to him that she’ll be following you home tonight. You tell him your address.

When you arrive, the driver does a double take at your apartment building. Meiko sobers up enough to be able to walk up the three flights of stairs to your apartment by herself so she shoos the driver away as you promise to take care of her.

“Go,” you call as you open the door. “I’m home.”

Go is seated in front of the door, above the platform of the genkan, as if he’s been waiting for you, tail excitedly flicking from side to side on the floor as he regards you.

“Wow,” Meiko says. “That’s a beautiful cat.”

Pride blooms in your chest at her words. Go’s grown big enough to nearly encompass the length of your arms. You wonder if he’ll ever stop growing, but you don’t mind. More of him to hug and pet. You love him regardless.

After taking off her heels, Meiko clambers to her knees and immediately starts petting Go. You can hear Go’s pleased purr as Meiko showers him with bellyrubs.

When she finally pulls away, you lead her through the living room and then into your room, Go following beside your ankles.

“You can take my bed.” Meiko opens her mouth to argue. “I insist.” You’re no stranger to sleeping on the couch anyway. And having Go next to you made things substantially better. You leave to the kitchen to get her a glass of water.

Clutching a tall glass of water, you return to your room to see the top dresser of your drawer opened, and a white envelope in Meiko’s hand.

“O-oh,” you say quickly, placing the glass of water down on your desk. “That’s…”

“Did you write all of these?” Meiko places the envelope back down at the top of the stack in your drawer. You had momentarily moved the letters there until you could finish Satoru’s latest one to ensure all the postage was up to date. His birthday was coming soon after all. But you couldn’t risk the letters being seen by any of the recipients. Your letters weren’t meant for them—not as long as you were alive.

With Satoru's tendency to snoop through your things, their usual home was in a shoebox inside a bigger storage container underneath your bed, covered with spare blankets. You hadn’t been expecting visitors.

Meiko gestures to three stacks of letters, each stack addressed to a different person.

“Three every year,” you reply, with a small smile, closing the drawer. She must have seen Satoru’s name written on the envelope. You’re relieved when she doesn’t say anything else, only gazing at the picture frames on top of your dresser.

“Your apartment,” her voice is quiet, “is very empty.”

“I’m not good at decorating. I’ve never had a lot of things.”

“The unsentimental type, huh.”

Meiko raises her hand, as if to examine the picture of Shoko on your desk, but then drops it. You open the covers for her. It’s easy to see how tired she is, the darkness of the night casting shadows on her face that make her expression muted. You should let her get rest.

Slowly, she gets into your bed.

“I wanted to enroll into jujustu high,” her voice is barely a whisper, covers pulled to her chin. “My father said my cursed technique wouldn’t amount to much as a jujutsu sorcerer. That I’d be killed on my first mission. I wanted—” her voice warbles, and you worry she might cry. “I could’ve been an auxiliary manager.”

Hesitantly, you reach out and pat her hair. You like it when Shoko pats your hair.

She blinks slowly, before her eyes close. A few seconds later, Meiko is peacefully sleeping in your bed. You exhale, relieved that sleep had come to her easily.

Freedom. It’s easy to take it for granted. Despite everything in your life, at least you had that. You could quit being a jujutsu sorcerer, move to the mountains unaccounted for, and live the rest of your life surrounded by rocks. There would be no great impact on jujutsu society. You’d be a fading memory at best.

You’re still thinking about it when, settled on the couch, with Go in your lap as you brush his fur, someone knocks on your door.

At this hour?

You set Go and the brush down, walking over to the genkan. You open the door.

A tall, slightly disheveled man greets you. From what you can make out in the sparse light coming from the small lamp of your living room, he’s nicely dressed, in an expensive looking suit, but his tie is loose around his neck in a way that reminds you of drunk businessmen splayed out in the streets awaiting the trains to open.

“Is Ikeda-san inside?” He asks sharply. You try to make out his face, but the darkness encroaches on his face, creating shadows. Your eyesight is going bad. Too many late nights in the archives.

“She’s sleeping—”

You immediately move to block him from coming in when he takes a step forward. Go hisses from in between your ankles.

“I’m her husband,” he says, in a tone that leaves little room for argument. “I’m here to retrieve my wife.” After a slight pause, as if remembering to be courteous, he dips his head. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“Of course.” You meet his gaze. “Though I don’t think it’s wise to move her now. Like I said before, she’s sleeping.” You don’t share that she had been drinking.

You think you imagine the flicker of displeasure on his face, but then his face is smoothly dispassionate. “It’s only proper that she should rest at home.”

You don’t move.

“If I’m being honest, I don’t feel comfortable letting her go home with you.” Not in her current condition.

“Forgive me,” he says. “But my relationship with Ikeda-san doesn’t pertain to you. It’s a separate matter altogether. I simply want her to rest at home.” In other words: it’s none of your business.

A politician through and through, you think. Despite the fact that this straitlaced man seems to be the very opposite of smiles and fake goodwill.

It’s not. Your business. But you don’t think you can let her go home, not in good conscience. You wonder if this means making enemies with the future prime minister of Japan. Well, there wasn’t much he could do even if he wanted to retaliate.

“I’m sorry,” you say firmly. “I’ll take care of Ikeda-san until the morning. I may not look like it but I’m also a jujutsu sorcerer. A Grade One. I’m more than capable of watching over her.”

You leave out the part where your own missions have been on the backburner as of late. You’re sure Yaga-sensei is being considerate after what happened in Nagoya. You mentally thank Satoru and Suguru for all their hard work.

Surprise on his face. “You’re a jujutsu sorcerer?”

Y-yes… “I am.”

His fingers curl, unhappy. You can tell he’s hesitant. You understand it, but you already decided you wouldn’t let Meiko go home. It’s not something you’ll budge on. You’ll stand your ground.

“Then I leave her in your care,” he says curtly, straightening. He bows his head and you bow back. Then he’s gone, leaving you wondering if you imagined the entire interaction. You stare at your empty doorway until Go meows.

You close the door and sigh, sitting down on the elevated floor connected to the genkan as you scratch Go’s ear.

“Do you think the future prime minister of Japan hates me?”

He bumps his head into your thigh. You sigh again, picking him up as you stand. Like he said, it’s beyond you to assume their relationship, a nobody like you. Go immediately rolls onto his back in your arms, paws kicking up, nuzzling into you.

At least Go would never hate you.

You tread back to the couch, and put on a documentary about African meerkats. Go doesn’t take his eyes off the screen, entranced by the slim animals and their dietary habits. You eventually doze off.

—

You wake up to the sound of eggs sizzling and the smell of breakfast. You blink, cold winter sunlight streaming in through the window. You sit up.

“Good morning,” Meiko says. “I’m making breakfast.”

You look at her.

She snorts. “What, did you think a rich girl like me couldn’t cook? I lived by myself in college, you know. No servants at all.” Meiko must mistake your blank eyed stare for something more because she hastily says, “O-on the weekdays anyway.”

You didn’t know you had food in your fridge.

“I went to the grocery store around the block,” she says, answering your unspoken question. “What do you live on? All you had was cat food in the fridge!” She opens a cabinet and points. “And this huge jar of sugar!”

“Satoru’s,” you answer. Meiko looks even more confused.

You yawn. Go is already awake on your lap, awaiting his breakfast no doubt. “There were some eggs…” Leftovers from the groceries Shoko had bought you a week prior.

“I can’t believe you…” She shakes her head, muttering something along the lines of ‘hopeless,’ before shooing you into the bathroom to wash.

After a quick stop to the bathroom, you feed Go and take a seat. Meiko puts a plate of eggs, bacon and sausage, and buttered toast in front of you.

“You didn’t have to.” You stare at the food. When was the last time you had breakfast in your apartment out of ingredients that had been bought?

“It’s the least I could do,” she sounds exasperated. “I can’t believe you let me take your bed!”

You feed Go a leftover piece of raw bacon which he gratefully accepts, nudging into your hand. “As long as you were comfortable.”

She huffs, and you thank her for the meal. The two of you eat in brief silence.

“Have you ever wondered what you’d be if you weren't a jujutsu sorcerer?” Meiko asks suddenly, spearing a sausage with her fork. “Like if you had never known curses existed.”

You wonder where this is coming from.

“Not really,” you admit slowly, staring at your plate of food. “It’s not like it would have ever made a difference. It was also highly probable I’d be killed during a mission anyway.” No need to think about the possibilities, no point in contemplating the path of your life unless you were debating the merits of suicide.

“Oh. That’s morbid.” Then she says, “Do you still think that?”

You think about your last missions, and the last time you had a close call with death. It could be tomorrow, it could be next year. You suppose that’s always been the inevitable reality for you. Who would you be if not a jujutsu sorcerer? You had little to no experience of life outside the world of jujustu sorcery. No other friends. No family. “I do. I don’t even know if I’ll survive to the next year,” you say plainly.

“What if you do survive?” She presses. “What if you don’t die? Next year, the year after the next…What would retirement look like for you?”

You consider it. It’s a difficult question. It must show on your face because Meiko laughs as if she’s torn whether to be amused or sympathetic. “Is it really that hard?”

“I would move somewhere peaceful,” you say slowly. “The countryside. Maybe somewhere along the coast, near the beach.” You’d like that. Somewhere aligned with nature. Somewhere where you could watch the sunrise and the sunset. Somewhere, where the stars are visible.

“By yourself?”

“By myself.” You would live in solitude, once again, content knowing Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko were living happily. Nobody would ever hurt you again. Go headbutts your ankle. Your lips curl, leaning down to pet him. “With Go,” you correct. No, you wouldn’t be entirely alone.

“And then?”

“Die.”

Meiko makes a face.

It wouldn’t be bad, you think. It’s all you can ask for out of life, if any higher existence is merciful enough to grant it. A peaceful death.

Meiko gawks at you. When she finally regains her words, she says, “Either you live as a jujutsu sorcerer or you die?”

You nod.

She opens her mouth. Then closes it. She sighs. “You’re so morbid.”

–

There are flowers on your desk. They’re lovely, a bouquet of a colorful array of flowers, some of which you recognize as japanese iris’, peonies, and wisteria.

You examine them, fingering their delicate petals, running your hands through them to try to find a card. You think it had accidentally been delivered to the library by mistake. You don’t know who would send you flowers.

There’s no identifying information on them, so you gingerly pick up the bouquet and walk out the library, all the way to Shoko’s office on the third floor of jujutsu high’s main building.

She raises an eye at the bundle in your arms when you knock and open the door.

“I’m glad I caught you before you went on break,” you say. “I found these flowers in the library, and I thought they’d brighten up your office.” You wrap your hands around the stems of the carefully trimmed flowers, and feel the thrum of your cursed energy imbue the flowers.

You place the bouquet down on the closest cabinet to you. As long as nobody intentionally destroyed them, they’d stay beautiful forever. “I’ll find you a vase.”

She swivels in her chair to face you, scrutinizing the flowers. “Are you sure? Those look like serious money.”

You play with a petal. “I think they were delivered to the library by mistake, but I can’t find a card.”

A knowing smile plays on her lips. “Men give women flowers when they want to apologize. Any groveling men in mind?”

You look at her. “No.”

She huffs a breath of laughter. “I’ll take them,” she says airily. She stands. “Are you going to join me on my break?”

You give her an apologetic look. “Paperwork.”

She narrows her eyes. “Fine, fine, but you owe me some of your time this weekend. It’s been a while since we went shopping.”

Shopping with Shoko always meant a good time. You’re looking forward to the weekend already. You wave her off, and back to the library you go. Just as you step into the gardens leading to the library, you hear a voice call your name.

“How’s your cat?” Hideo asks in greeting, jogging up to your side. “Have you named him?”

“Hello.” You smile. “His name is Go, and he’s very big.”

“Go…” Hideo’s eyebrows momentarily draw together, understanding dawning on his face. “I’m guessing it’s not because five is your lucky number, huh.”

You laugh. “He looks just like Satoru.” You adore him.

The two of you continue to the library.

“Has Go met his namesake yet?”

“Not...” Your smile slips, thinking of your last encounter with Satoru and Suguru. “Yet.”

“Well, all in good time, I suppose,” Hideo says easily, after a beat of contemplative silence.

You think about the flowers in Shoko’s office, and what type of vase they would look best in. Maybe Meiko would know. “There were flowers in the library.”

Hideo grins, amused. “A secret admirer?”

You blink. “I don’t think so.” A secret admirer? You? “I’m sure it was a mistake. I gave them to Shoko to brighten up her office.”

A wince crosses his face. It melts into a chuckle. You look at him curiously.

“You’re just a normal girl, huh?”

He grins, eyes bright, fond with a familiarity you still aren’t used to, but for some reason the comment makes your chest ache.

Normal.

You must be making a face because he straightens, mostly sobering. “Ah…how do I put this,” he scratches the underside of his chin. “When we were younger you always seemed…older. Somehow. It’s easy to lose sight of what’s normal in this world. I guess talking about love and secret admirers just reminded me…”

You tilt your head.

He clears his throat. “I prefer the person you are right now though,” he says easily. “You smile now” —like a normal girl— “and get sent flowers from a secret admirer” —like a normal girl—

You stare at him. Then lower your gaze to your feet. “Is that…bad?” You wonder if he’s making fun of you. You don’t think those flowers were intended for you.

Nobody has ever called you normal. If anything, you were abnormal. If you were a normal girl, maybe you’d be married like that woman you saw months ago. If you were a normal girl, maybe everything would be better.

If you were a normal girl would you be happier? Would things make more sense? You can’t imagine it. First Meiko asks you about a hypothetical future, and now Hideo seems to be under the mistaken impression that you are a normal girl.

It…

You don’t hate it. The thought peeves you more than you thought it would.

Hideo blinks rapidly. “No, of course not!” He frantically waves his hands. “Ignore me! I have a bad habit of running my mouth occasionally!” His gaze turns worried. “I’m sorry—”

“It’s fine,” you respond, meaning it. You smile. “I don’t mind.”

Normal, normal, normal.

Hideo walks you inside the library. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his neck crane to look at the domed skylight in the center of the library, the interest clear on his face. The building is in a unique shape: a heptagon, walls lined with bookshelves that fit the shape of the building. “I didn’t know this building was a library. Cozy.”

“I think they converted it,” you say. You’ve always liked this library, away from the bustle of the campus. Not many people knew about it. You discovered this building your second year of high school, and found a thin layer of dust on all the books and scrolls. It was clear it hadn’t been occupied in a while. It wasn’t until you had stayed inside for a day or two, unaccounted for, reading whatever you could salvage, that Shoko had found you, Satoru and Suguru not too far behind. Yaga thought you had never come back from a previous mission.

Shoko helped you clear the library. Satoru and Suguru carried a desk and chair into the center, right beneath the skylight, and suddenly, it was a study. Yours.

“I like it here,” you say quietly. “It’s peaceful.”

As soon as you finish your sentence, you hear the large wooden double doors open and slam shut as Satoru strides in. You flinch at the noise.

“...?”

Satoru folds his arms as he rests his weight against one of the bookshelves. He doesn’t need to take off his glasses for you to know he’s keenly unhappy in a way that fills up the entire room.

“...”

Satoru’s jaw ticks.

You move your gaze to the floor, sensing Hideo looking from you to Satoru curiously. Greater men have scurried away from the palpable tension Satoru has injected into the room, but Hideo seems oblivious to it.

“Guess I should leave the two of you to it,” Hideo finally says. “Sorry for the intrusion!”

You startle, looking up, mouth opening to deny his statement, but Satoru’s flat expression snaps your mouth back shut.

“T-Then I’ll see you…” you say quietly, wanting him to stay, to buffer conversation between you and Satoru anyway. But that would be unfair to Hideo. Satoru and Suguru have vocalized their dislike of him, for what you aren’t sure. You think Hideo is similar to Haibara in temperament, with his winning personality and easy going conversational air, and the two of them seem to get along with Haibara just fine.

He stops. Then turns back. “Next week, right?”

You blink. Next…week…? “Yes…?”

Hideo smiles, as a crease forms between Satoru’s eyebrows. Hideo slightly bows in Satoru’s direction before taking his leave. You hold your breath as the doors close once more, leaving you alone with…

Satoru is in front of you before you can blink, pushing you back into your desk. Your knees slightly buckle.

“You didn’t want him to leave,” Satoru says, accusatory, pulling his glasses off his face. “You wanted that third rate sorcerer to stay!”

You frown. “That’s rude.”

He ignores you. “Where’s your phone?”

You look at him curiously. Where had you left it again? Satoru opens his mouth, then closes it so quickly you hear the click of his teeth.

“Is…” you sigh. “Is something wrong?” You would rather he just get it over with. Telling you your outburst that day was unwarranted, and that you had been a terrible person and friend and human being in general. He wouldn’t be wrong.

“No,” he says through gritted teeth. “Nothing is wrong.”

Something, you think, is clearly wrong.

Silence.

All you can think of are Meiko’s words. The Gojo elders who traveled from Fukuouka just to convince Satoru to get married, preferably, to Sasaski. They want him to wed a woman of standing and lineage. They want him to have children. Then take a few mistresses, and impregnate them for backup heirs.

Freedom, you once again think, is immeasurable. You’re sad for Satoru. You want him to be happy. It’s all you’ve ever wanted for him and Suguru and Shoko. It makes you relieved and happy to know Suguru would always be by his side. Any sorrows or joys, would be shared together.

Satoru exhales roughly. In seconds he goes from bearing down at you, gaze alight, to sinking down to his knees in front of you.

You stare at him, confused.

There’s a loud slap of noise that has your eyes going wide.

When Satoru looks back up at you, his cheeks are stinging red, and handprinted. You reach out immediately, fingertips brushing over the heat of his sculpted face, wondering why he had slapped himself.

“Sato—”

“You know, Suguru and I were idiots.”

Oh. “No,” It wasn’t their fault. It was yours. “I shouldn’t have—”

You’re fully backed into the desk, taking a small seat (there’s nowhere else to move) as Satoru rises, hand closing around your nape. He brings you close and kisses you greedily, a moment’s indulgence, until he draws away, letting you breathe as you wonder what just happened.

“There’s nothing I love more than seeing you think,” he murmurs against your lips, piercing blue gaze never leaving yours for a second, “but right now I need you to stop thinking and listen.”

He sinks back down, expression almost smug when you close your mouth. He takes your hands, thumbs rubbing and pressing down on your knuckles soothingly, if not in an almost agitated manner. You’ve seen him do the same thing to Suguru. You don’t think he’s aware of it.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” he admits, expression unusually forlorn. “I forgot…” he hesitates, dropping that line of thinking altogether. “Suguru and I get carried away when it comes to you.” There’s not a hint of amusement on his face as he squeezes your hands. “We don’t like seeing you cry.”

He says it with such a truthful earnestness that your throat goes tight. He’s still him, you think. That very same long limbed mischievous boy who laughed loudly and smiled broadly and clung a little too hard to your side, as if unaware of his own strength. His arm perpetually slung over Suguru’s shoulder like he was always meant to be there. No matter how far you think Satoru and Suguru are, those are the memories you’ll carry in your heart. Those sun slicked, sepia tinged memories, echoing of laughter.

Maybe the only person who had changed was you.

You look down at your entwined fingers.

You, you, you. It’s all you.

You’re a bit embarrassed. You don’t think you cried. Not in front of them at least. You had gone home and locked your door first. I’m sorry too, you want to say, but somehow with Satoru gazing up at you, the words are lodged in your throat. He looks devastatingly sincere. You don’t doubt his words.

“You should forgive us,” Satoru says lightly, almost innocently. Too innocently. That should’ve been more than enough for alarm bells to sound, but you had been preoccupied by Satoru’s show of sincerity.

You blink when his fingers easily wrap around the length of your right ankle. And when he firmly presses your foot to his shoulder, you stare.

You try to drop your foot, move it away, but Satoru’s grip is iron clad. A smile is slowly sneaking onto the corners of Satoru’s lips, making him look more incriminating than anything. You don’t like that look. Not at all.

“Satoru—”

“Would it make you feel better to push me around a little?” He asks breathily, eyes glinting mischievously. “You can kick me if you want, I don’t mind.” His voice lowers. “ Anywhere , really.”

You sweat. Trying to pull your ankle out of his grip isn’t working.

“I’m sorry too,” you blurt out, unable to comprehend how you ended up with your foot on Satoru’s shoulder while he gives you his consent to kick him. “I forgive you, I forgive you—”

“No needa be shy!” He moves your foot to his chest, pressing it down. “Just give me one good kick—”

You give him a flinty, dead eyed stare. “That’s not funny.”

He returns it with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not laughing.”

“Satoru,” you say weakly.

Finally, he releases your foot, and you are allowed to jerk your leg down. You’re instantly relieved, planting both feet firmly on the ground as you dust away the dirt on his shoulder and chest. He sighs, disappointed in a way that perturbs you.

“You’re so difficult sometimes,” you murmur, considerably warming up to his presence.

“That’s right,” he hums, idly trailing a finger down your clothed leg. “You and Suguru have your hands full, I’m sure.” He peers up at you daringly, looking every bit the petulant boy the Gojo clan had spoiled rotten in their adoration of the first six eyes user in centuries. “I’m worth it though, aren’t I?”

“...”

“Sometimes, I wonder that,” you say, (and mean) seriously.

“I didn’t hear that,” he says pleasantly.

“...If you say so…”

You think you imagined the twitch of his eyebrow.

You can’t help but smile. This is how things should be, you think. Now, if you could talk to Suguru, you’re sure you could draw this entire incident to a close. You wouldn’t have to skirt around the two of them with feelings of impending doom clouding your mind.

“Well,” Satoru says casually. “Now that we’ve gotten all that out of the way, apologies and all,” he promptly gets to his feet, so quickly you blink, gaze following him up. His face transforms into a full blown pout. “You’re a true sadist!”

You gawk at him. So soon after reconciliation!?

Satoru scowls. “Throwing Suguru and I away so quickly?”

“???????”

“Who said you were allowed to see and talk to other men!” He frowns even more vigorously at the confusion on your face. “Don’t act so surprised! Suguru’s been sulking every single day! He’s been downright distressed. The girls think he’s depressed! Again!”

You wince, recognizing the tell tale signs of another common Satoru overblown overreaction. Very high school reminiscent you think.

“S-Satoru…”

Satoru sighs dramatically, glaring at you. “Any day now, he might do something drastic.”

You stare at him.

“That’s why you should never get mad at us ever again,” he finishes succinctly, looking at you expectantly.

You stare at him.

When it’s clear you have no response, Satoru brushes off the silence so easily you think this is how others can get tripped up at the pace in which he leads. If you weren’t so used to it, you’d be one of them.

Satoru scans the small room. “Where are our flowers?”

“Oh, they were yours?”

Satoru levels you with a flinty gaze that would send others running to the hills. It elicits no strong response from you. His tone is chilly, displeased. “There’s another man sending you flowers?”

You give him an unimpressed look so withering that he clears his throat, almost meekly.

“Suguru’s idea. I picked them.”

“Well, they’re lovely,” a small smile on your lips. “They’re in Shoko’s office.”

“Of course they are,” he sighs, resigned. He regards you silently for a minute. “Did you like them?”

“I did.” You’re unsure where this line of questioning is headed. You slightly tilt your head to the side in a question.

“They were for you,” Satoru says. “I picked them for you.” He takes a step forward until your legs touch. “I wanted you to have them, so why’d ya have to give them away?”

You blink at the hint of roughness that bleeds through Satoru’s fixed (Suguru’s work) pronunciation. In hindsight, if the flowers were for you…it was awfully rude of you to have given them away wasn’t it?

“I…understand. I’m…sorry for giving your flowers away.”

Now he looks peeved. “They weren’t mi…” he groans, looking at you with an exasperated warmth. Then his eyes narrow. “You’re sorry, huh?”

You don’t…like that look in his eyes.

You don’t have time to respond, because Satoru’s finger comes to rest on the button fastened right below your neck. Uh oh. A sensation familiar to deja-vu suddenly envelopes you.

You’ve been getting a lot of those lately.

Your face warms as Satoru’s tongue runs over his bottom lip, playfully. The button comes undone easily. His voice is playful, but his gaze burns. “You can get on your knees—” your shirt is half undone, your black bra peeking out “—or I can get on mine.”

You don’t think he’s intending to give you a choice, because he’s so quickly down on his knees and spreading your legs apart, you’re blinking from the whiplash.

“Wait—!” You put your hands on his shoulders, thanking whatever deity was looking down on you today that you had put on pants instead of whatever easy skirt and sweater outfit you usually chose when sleep riddled in the morning.

Satoru smiles pleasantly. Too suspiciously well mannered when his fingers are on the zipper of your pants. “Yes?”

“H-how about a kiss instead…?”

You figure it would be easier to untangle yourself from him then…

Satoru’s fingers curl into your thighs, pinning you to the table. You’re surprised to see him seriously consider it. And relieved. His gaze is weighted with all the seriousness of negotiating a crucial deal. “How long?”

Your eyebrows furrow. You’re not sure how long a kiss should be. You hesitantly bring your hands to cup his face and lower your head to gently meet his lips. He’s as still as a statue, except for the sound of his breathing; deep slow breaths that overtake the rise and fall of his chest. His lips are immeasurably soft. A fact that you can only appreciate as time slows.

You take a moment to look at him. In the silence, you can admire the fine lines of his sculpted face and the inviting curve of his lips all within the grasp of your hands. He looks softer like this, happy. It makes you happy.

Satoru’s eyelashes flicker open, long white lashes framing the blues of the sky trapped in his gaze. You offer him a smile, a small quirk of your lips as you turn a hand over and lightly brush his cheek. You blink, taken aback when Satoru lightly takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckle.

His eyes flash, engulfed by a dark hunger.

You’re flat on your back against the desk, and there’s no time to think before Satoru presses forward, claiming your lips in an open mouthed kiss that steals your breath away. He’s trapped you into the desk, the weight of his body pushing you down. His fingers wind through your hair, cradling the back of your head.

You can feel his need between your legs, throbbing against you, all harsh panting and heat.

“Satoru,” you mumble the best you can with his lips still eager to meet yours. “We should—”

Your words are smothered when Satoru’s tongue licks into your mouth purposefully. You can tell he’s unhappy to be separated by layers of fabric. Your panties stick to your core, damp, as Satoru begins to lightly rock into you, straining against the material covering your heat.

“Satoru—”

He moans into your mouth, “Just like that.”

You snap your mouth shut, but Satoru doesn’t seem to notice as his lips trail across your neck with a single minded purpose. You feel his lips on your shoulder, as they glide across your chest.

Satoru’s lips are on yours again before you can even blink in an open mouthed kiss, tongue thoroughly exploring your mouth. His hands are tight, pressing into your waist, body flush against yours.

You mentally apologize. Then, you bite him.

Your teeth close over Satoru’s bottom lip. Hard. You almost wince yourself.

To your horror, Satoru does not release you like you thought he would.

You feel his body shudder to a near tremble, and the sharp exhale-like moan that leaves his lips. His eyes look delighted in their frenzied state. He presses closer to you, erection prominent and twitching, holding you even tighter. Your heart races in your chest as Satoru buries himself into your neck, hips grinding into yours.

You force your hands out against his chest. “Satoru,” you say tightly. “Someone could come in.”

That gives him pause. He rises, just slightly, enough to look down on you. You must look like a mess. His tongue swipes over the blood on his lips, and then he smiles.

“Oh?”

This is bad.

“I should talk to Suguru first,” you say quickly, avoiding his gaze. “You know…”

There's a brief pause.

“Hm.” He begrudgingly acquiesces, allowing you enough space to rise up. He briefly cups your face, before a hand falls to your neck. A dull ache flares when Satoru’s thumb presses down. You swallow, trying to calm your beating heart, all despite the fact that his hardness is within plain view.

You try not to stare at it as you busy yourself with buttoning your shirt. You can feel him grinning at you.

“And Suguru says I’m the one with no restraint.” Crossing his arms, he bears down at you expectantly. HIs foot taps up and down.

Your nerves are still frayed, electric, but you feel…almost better. Lighter. Despite the unexpected turn your meeting had taken, you’re happy.

“I love you Satoru,” you say, finishing up your top button. You really do. If he and Suguru and Shoko could be guaranteed happiness for the rest of their lives, you truly would have no problem dying in the next hour.

After straightening out your shirt, you finally look up. Satoru blinks at you, but there’s a flush to his neck, lips warbling.

You haven’t seen Satoru this flustered in ages. You should enjoy it now while it lasts.

“Where’d that come from?” He manages with a croak. He regains himself, straightening, but there's a pleased glint to his eye. Like a preening cat.

“I just wanted to,” you say happily. “Because I love you.”

You stand, rising on your toes to pat his head. Go likes it when you pet him. Meiko had liked it too.

Satoru stares at you, but he doesn’t push your hand away. He closes his eyes with an exhale.

“Are we…good?” you drop your hand, much to the disappointment that overtakes Satoru’s face.

“Always,” he confirms, and a part of you thinks he means it.

You smile. Everything’s going to be alright. As long as Satoru can smile at you like that, then things can’t possibly be as bad as you may have envisioned. You hear Meiko’s words once more: The Gojo clan elders and higher ups from Fukuouka are convening in Tokyo to try and convince Gojo to get married. They want him to have children.

It's odd. That such an important thing hadn't reached your ears. According to Meiko, those elders never left Fukuouka. A matter of the upmost importance. Nobody told you about it. Not even Shoko. It's none of your business. That's what you've been telling yourself, despite the disappointment swirling in your gut. You wish they could have confided in you.

“Do you want children?”

The look of interest on his face quickly fades as his gaze turns discerning. “What brought this on?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly, intuitively deciding that telling Satoru of your excursion with Meiko would be disastrous right now. “Just curious I guess…”

“About how babies are made?” His eyebrows waggle.

“No. I know about that.” Speaking of which. You’d need condoms.

Though you aren’t quite sure how well Satoru would react to you asking him what their to-go brand of condoms are. Maybe you’d ask Suguru instead.

“You weren’t at your place last Sunday,” Satoru says casually.

You blink, caught up in your worries about selecting the wrong condoms. Sunday…that had been…dinner with Meiko.

“Oh, I was out.”

“Out,” Satoru repeats. “Where?”

“With a…” you mentally apologize for being presumptuous, “friend…”

Satoru frowns. “You don’t have friends.”

Other than me, Suguru, and Shoko.

The unspoken words are pointed. You smile nervously.

You aren’t as popular as Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. That’s a given. Shoko gets invited to for drinks with the auxiliary managers every other day. Visiting jujutsu sorcerers have been known to ask her out for coffee. You’re sure it’s tripled for Satoru and Suguru.

“There are some…” you clear your throat. “I have friends other than you and Shoko and Suguru.”

Ijichi. Utahime….Hideo. Maybe Meiko.

But to be a friend…they’d have to consider you a friend right? It has to go both ways. You’ve never received verbal confirmation or anything. You shouldn’t have automatically assumed…but Meiko had invited you out hadn’t she? She wanted to see you. To talk to you. There were no ulterior motives. She wanted to get to know you. Isn’t that how friendships start? You don’t even remember how Satoru and you became friends. One day he hated you, and then he didn’t. It’s not that much of a surprise. He’s always been a little capricious at heart like that. Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko had seamlessly blended into your life, like they had always been there.

Satoru disregards your words. “You don’t need them.”

He doesn’t believe you. Your face warms in embarrassment. Of course he’d think that. You stay silent awkwardly.

Satoru hums. “So Megumi, huh.” He looks amused. “You should’ve just come over to the apartment.”

“R-right…” Sometimes, you truly believed it was easier to let Satoru think what he wanted. It was harmless anyway. So you’d let him.

He gently pulls you up to your feet. “I’ll drive you home.”

“But Suguru…”

“In Yokohama." He picks at something at your shoulder, but his knuckles brush your neck. "He won’t be back until tomorrow. So eager to see him?”

“Yes,” you admit. “I want to see him and I want…to talk to him.” If these past months have taught you anything, it’s that one of the things you miss most of all is talking to Suguru. Suguru is more than an excellent conversationalist, he’s attentive in a way others aren’t. Satoru and Suguru both. They make you feel seen. Satoru, when he looks at you. Suguru, when he listens.

You cherish it. You’ll miss it.

At your response, Satoru groans, falling to his knees once more. You blink at him, wondering what caused the sudden dramatics.

His fingers grip your pants, like a child hiding behind his mother’s dress.

He looks up at you. You suddenly get the image of a withered man in the desert, dying of thirst, and you already know what he’s going to ask. You step back. His hand falls loosely back to his side.

“No,” you say sternly, in the same manner you tell Go he can’t knock over your vases.

Then you walk outside.

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #m.jjk

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utilitycaster · 2 months

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Hi there, I saw in one of your tags recently that "if you think the raven queen was being unfair, I'm not really interested in your opinions." I was wondering if you could talk a little more about that because I'll be honest, Vax isn't my favorite character but I've seen all of C1 and I really don't get why some people HATE the RQ, call her unfair, manipulative and pretty plainly say this moon conflict is mostly her fault because she took Vax and through a Domino effect Ludinus is releasing Predathos. Also, I enjoy your theories and analysis for CR so much you got me listening to Midst, so thank you.

Hi anon,

Great question! This is going to be a very long post, with a relatively short initial answer, because there is both the literal misinterpretation that indicates this is not someone with strong analytical skills nor knowledge of canon, and a number of potential mindsets that lead to this manner of thinking in the first place, none of which I respect. You happen to have sort of hit upon the foundational elements of my whole deal re: CR meta, so, buckle in.

The first part is simple: Vex died because Percy triggered a trap before she'd been healed up. We've seen this sort of trap elsewhere in non-divine contexts (Folding Halls of Halas); it's just a form of trap. A particularly nasty one, but this is for a very powerful relic she doesn't want falling into the wrong hands, and, moreover, the party could have likely disabled it either through rogue skills or magic had Percy waited. Vax, then, as the third part of the resurrection ritual, told the Raven Queen to take him instead of Vex. The Raven Queen did precisely as he asked. He did not need to offer this (Scanlan was going to make an offering, the other parts of the ritual had gone well, it was Vex's first death so the DC was low, and Vax could have made any number of other, less dramatic offers), and he did so with the understanding that he would die in lieu of Vex, right then and there. He did not. I think that's the only case, actually, where the Raven Queen was not 100% upfront with her intentions before Vax accepted something; but he offered it voluntarily. Vax was a person who formed extremely intense connections, to the point where it was perhaps unhealthy, and did not believe life without his sister was worth living, and was willing to sacrifice himself to a god.

Everything after that was extremely straightforward. Vax communed with the Raven Queen, who spoke very directly with him in his vision in the Raven's Crest. She was extremely clear when she met with him following his disintegration: he was given the option to refuse her offer, and he took it instead. It is not manipulative to give someone a difficult decision, and if a character you like makes a choice you don't like, it is not automatically the result of manipulation.

As for the moon conflict being her fault…that is, to put it bluntly, unhinged, and what's more, ironic given that that's the manipulative argument. Ludinus tried to commune with Ruidus using a random crystalline artifact beneath Molaesmyr, centuries before Vax was born. He was going to do this regardless. If he couldn't get Vax, he'd get some other sliver of divinity, and what's more, it's been all but stated that Vax is not actually supposed to be leaving the Shadowfell to protect Keyleth, and is disobeying the Raven Queen directly (and it's been stated that this isn't necessarily helpful for Keyleth, who is trying to grieve and move on). So: Vax made his choices with the knowledge of what they entailed, is trying to bend if not break the conditions to which he agreed with full knowledge in a way that probably isn't healthy for him or Keyleth, and it's bananas to be like "wow look at how the Raven Queen made Ludinus try to free Predathos." Like. Even if she had tricked Vax, which she didn't, Ludinus literally could have just kept on his racist imperialistic longevitymaxxing beat indefinitely and left the moon well enough alone. The domino meme is a meme. I mean, while we're at it, couldn't we trace it back to Vecna instead, for killing Vax with Disintegrate in the first place, since had he not done so, Vax would have either survived that fight or would have been resurrected normally? Or perhaps it's Percy for triggering that trap. Or the Chroma Conclave for being the reason why Vox Machina was seeking the Deathwalker's Ward in the first place…but that only happened because Allura and Kima didn't kill Thordak but rather sealed him, and because a priestess of Melora cursed Raishan so that she had reason to ally with Thordak. We can go on indefinitely; the point is, to assign blame specifically to the Raven Queen when Ludinus literally did not have to do a goddamn thing with the moon is a fucking stupid take.

Below the cut, I talk root causes behind why people might decide the Raven Queen was unfair and come up with the above nonsensical argument to support that, since I don't think people say stupid things just to be stupid.

I think one root cause for this mentality of this is that the person in question wishes Vax hadn't died and is looking for someone to blame because they don't want to blame Matt Mercer and Liam O'Brien, even though yeah, that's who to blame. The thing is, as we learned in Campaign 2, character death is quite literally on the table. Had Vax not made his bargain, either in episode 1x103 or his original one during Vex's resurrection? He might have simply remained dead. Had he not given his life for Vex's, he was pursuing paladin anyway with the Everlight, and we don't know what she'd have required of him. But more importantly, for all people like to bring up a PC-centric perspective (which, in Actual Play, is inevitable) Vox Machina's frequent use of resurrection spells was in fact a massive privilege most people in Exandria do not have. And, unsurprisingly for a table whose DM made up rules specifically to make resurrection more difficult, the Critical Role cast is open to a story where death exists. I do not think it's an accident that resurrection has been made even harder in the subsequent campaigns. I also happen to think that Campaign 1 is a far richer and better story with Vax's death, given the other events that occurred. Had Vax not been the sort of person who would offer his life for a god to take in exchange for his sister? Sure, he'd possibly have lived to the end. But he was, and that's the character those people who wish he were still alive loved. If he wasn't that person, they wouldn't have liked him in the same way.

D&D is fundamentally about exceptional characters becoming more powerful, and will be focused on those characters. I do not think D&D supports a story about characters who reject all power. They can give up political power (the Mighty Nein, for the most part, do this - certainly more so than Vox Machina, and Bells Hells is yet to be seen) but they will progress in levels, which is power. Even if unwanted, it is power, because most people in the world are commoners with 5 HP and 10 in all their stats. With that said, a lot of people desperately want a subversion of this power narrative. Vax is, I think, the closest we get. In D&D you are not going to get a player character who finishes a campaign and remains Just Some Guy. But you can have someone like Vax, who doesn't have any interest in power (compare to Vex, who very much is about power and who gets a much happier ending) who nonetheless ends up on the Tal'Dorei Council and the favored of a god…and yet, in the end, his equally powerful friends still can do nothing to save him. I think a Power Bad story is overly simplistic, but "there are limits to power, and ultimately none of us have complete control" is not. I think Vax's death gives the story of Vox Machina a finality and heft that it would lack otherwise.

A second possible cause is the "What if the gods are BAD" argument. I'm going to be totally honest: I did not see this in the fandom until Campaign 3, and honestly, not until EXU Calamity in any widespread sense, which does lead me to believe that most people did not come up with it as a reasonable idea on their own until characters started saying it, because it is so plainly in conflict with the themes of Campaigns 1 and 2 that to make this argument would be obvious projection. Do I think a nuanced view of the gods as flawed beings, rather than perfection, is warranted? Absolutely. Mortals, too, are flawed, and we don't kill them all for it. I think Vax's story makes them uncomfortable because it makes it clear divine favor is not, as Ludinus Da'leth tries to argue, the gods just bestowing and withholding their gifts arbitrarily, but rather that divine favor comes with a divine responsibility as well. Clerics and paladins do not study the way wizards do; but they must live lives in service, whereas a wizard can shut the book at the end of the day and do whatever. Clerics and paladins have powers that can be taken away; a wizard does not. That's the fundamental concept behind the Age of Arcanum - wizards trying to get around the fundamental rules of this world! Vax's paladin powers came at a price. His options are guided, but also limited, by the oath he took. He is far more fettered than a wizard, in the end, and I think that fucks with the narrative of the gods cruelly withholding their gifts from all but a select few, so they instead make their gifts into manipulative punishments…while still, contradictorily, arguing that characters such as Laudna or Ashton or Imogen were denied the mercy of the gods. Now, setting aside the obvious, that these characters have their backstories because Marisha and Taliesin and Laura decided they would because this is a story, and one in which someone had a perfect life would be boring and so the gods didn't intervene with Laudna because Marisha Ray wanted to play a Sun Tree corpse (see next section), it really is fascinating to see how people who hate the Raven Queen so neatly align with Ludinus. It's fine for sorcerers to have inborn powers, apparently, and Ludinus actually has himself tried to ape druidic magic; it's not about power, it's just about that power source. Honestly, they're not even above the gods as a power source - Ludinus used the crystal beneath Molaesmyr seemingly unaware if it were of the Archheart, and he's demonstrably using Vax, and everyone loves a resurrection from the gods, but heaven forbid you pay someone for the work you feel yourself entitled to. (Entitlement: this will also be a theme throughout the rant portion of this post.)

As a brief subsection to this: the idea that bad things happen to good people because the other side of that coin is free will is an ancient theological and philosophical discussion, and one we are obviously not going to solve here, though it is a little depressing I have had multiple rewarding conversations on this topic, thanks to an academically rigorous religious education, starting from the tender age of 9, and a lot of adults on Tumblr seemingly can't engage on the level of my third-grade classmates. I think, however, it tells a truth that fits in well with the wizard (and entitled fan) desire to control everything. People are terrified of random forces. Cancer, for example, is a matter of probability. There are things that can increase your chances of developing cancer, to be sure, but the simile I used when I was taught about radiation-induced cancers was that of lottery tickets: if you buy more, you have a better chance; but sometimes someone who bought a single ticket "wins" and someone who bought a ticket weekly never does. By believing the gods of Exandria are on trial for not intervening with every little hardship or for not taking Vax precisely as he intended, they reveal a profound terror of random chance and of the free will of people who are not them. Which is very funny when you consider we're watching Actual Play, where random chance is a deliberately induced element. I think the takeaway of all of this is "I think some of you guys are really mad this is a D&D game." But let's continue.

The third, and honestly most likely cause, is honestly sort of a continuation of the first but not centered around Vax so much as just a general, in my opinion deeply childish discomfort of any sort of tragedy or unhappiness in fiction. I've noticed this a lot lately, and I am not a cultural critic and don't have a high enough level view to pretend to be one, but as others have noted a lot of people seem affronted when whatever show they are currently watching does not meet their specific standards of "comfort media" or "hopepunk." It's a self-infantilization I don't care for, and it's certainly not limited to the CR fandom (see: any grown-ass adult passionately defending a choice to only watch children's cartoons and only read YA) or even fandom at all (see: the baffling popularity of the Mr. Rogers "look for the helpers" line which was intended for anxious young children, not for adults who can and should be the helpers). It really came into focus for me with CR when people referred to both EXU Calamity and to Candela Obscura's Circle of Needle and Thread as specifically "hopeless." They are, to me, deeply hopeful series. They are sad, and tragic, and many characters do not get a happy ending, but they are ultimately about how some people will endure, and will live on and find meaning after great loss. Calamity explicitly states that because of the actions of the heroes, while devastation will occur, total annihilation is mitigated. It's like the adage of how courage only means something in the face of fear; hope only means something in the face of darkness. Happy and fluffy tales are not hopeful; they are merely not things that require you to have hope. The root word of catharsis is that of cleansing and purgation and it originally related to physical excretion - cathartic stories are about getting those complicated and ugly emotions and fears out and feeling better for it by briefly feeling, perhaps, worse! Now, again, this has worsened with Vax's story with time. Shortly after Campaign 1, it was very common to see stories where Vex or Keyleth were utterly distraught, indefinitely, but those at least were engaging with grief, even if in a very shallow and unproductive way. But this has morphed into this idea that the fact that a work of fiction might make you even feel sadness makes it bad, and wrong, and hopeless, and the machinations of a cruel and heartless god. Which brings me back to the entitlement narrative: it's really as simple as "the story didn't give me what I wanted (whether that was a happy ending for Vax, or for Keyleth, or just a lack of sadness generally, or a narrative about the gods that validates my personal beliefs, or a way to justify Ludinus's actions), so it is bad." Which again is about being in control of the narrative, which again, in D&D, is simply not something anyone can claim. Why are these people here watching a D&D game? I don't know.

So that's really it: on a basic level, if you think the Raven Queen is unfair, you are profoundly ignorant of canon, so I'm already going to have to fact check anything you cite (if you cite at all), but there's a much deeper refusal to meet stories where they are and expand one's own comfort zone at play, and that means any analysis will never consider the possibility that your pre-existing beliefs were wrong (absolutely crucial in meta). You will always play it too safe and be uninspired and reactionary because the alternative is uncertainty and fear. I think a refusal to embrace tragedy in fiction is itself a profound tragedy; that is someone who is terrified to believe that life goes on.

#answered #Anonymous #cr tag #long post #candela tag #ngl i'm torn about not maintagging this; kind of want to but it does go somewhat far from the original topic

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