#he mildly enjoys the person’s existence more than others

[screwnames-ihatenames]

Every ship I have in mind with Alastor always ends up with it being one sided or Qpr both times they flirt with him while he does not understand at ALL

[bathomet-writes]

bursting at the seams

summary: When Raph reveals that he's been wanting a super exclusive, super expensive plush, it's up to you to go on a journey to a not so distant land of horrors to retrieve it for him...New Jersey. Contending with secret crushes and unspoken feelings should be a cakewalk.

relationship: Raph x GN!reader

warnings: romantic, fluff, humor, love confessions, allergic reaction and epipen/needle use (raph eats a peanut..he’s fine tho), sfw

word count: 4,785

author's note: it took a hot sec but here’s the gift fic for @/casualjagodek!! thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to write this adorable fic, i hope u all enjoy!

“That’s it?” You squint your eyes.

Raph looks at his phone screen then back to you. “Is the brightness too low or somethin?”

You breathe out a chuckle. “It’s just that I didn’t know you were getting all worked up over…that.”

It was some kind of stuffed animal of indeterminable origin. It had the head of a cow and the ears of a rabbit. Unconventional, but cute.

You knew Raph had a large collection of stuffed animals. Some from childhood, some he bought only months ago. Recently, he had been subtly dropping clues about how excited he was about something. He’d frantically check emails and ask you what the date was occasionally. Asking him about it outright just made him retreat back into secrecy.

Just last week, you caught him on your way out of the lair. The two of you passed each other in a particularly narrow subway tunnel. You stared expectantly at him while his eyes were glued squarely on his phone screen. You’d never seen Raph this…distracted? Whether he liked it or not, you paid attention to stuff like this. He was your best friend, acting cagey and suspicious for no reason.

You try clearing your throat and kicking at a random piece of trash on the ground to rouse his attention. “Texting someone hot?” You joke.

“Yeah.” Raph responds nonchalantly before blinking his eyes down to you. “Wai— No! No, I wasn’t—“

With a quick wave, you turn to head out again. “See ya.”

You figured even Raph kept a secret or two of his own, so you didn’t pry after that. Living with four brothers and Splinter, you’re sure he never got to have much of a private life.

When he finally (inevitably) let you in on the secret thing he’s been obsessing over, you tried to go in with an open mind. It could have been anything, so the potential of Raph confessing that he had been texting someone hot was miniscule. Maybe they were only sort-of attractive, or better yet, less attractive than you.

You didn’t know why, but the possibility of this hot mystery person existing just didn’t sit right with you.

“Let me see—“

Grabbing his phone from him, you scroll through the webpage. The image of a strange stuffed animal made you mildly more interested. The quality was actually really good, as far as stuffed animals go.

“What is it?”

“It’s, y’know…” Raph hums to himself, trying his best to cover up his embarrassment. “I just thought it was cute.”

“Huginn and Muninn.”

Your eyes widen as you scroll to the top of the page. The logo proudly displayed little gargoyle mascots that you knew you recognized from somewhere. Excitement replaces the jealousy that was festering in your mind just a few seconds earlier.

“Yeah! They started their own company a couple of years ago. I didn’t think they were still around either.” He shrugs.

“That’s crazy!” You hand the phone back to Raph and ramble on enthusiastically. “Well, now I see why you were so nervous. It’s expensive as hell.”

Without thinking, you grab at Raph’s wrist and use your other hand to zoom in on the plush. Once Raph got to the third digit, his heart dropped into his stomach. You were right. Even for his budget, it was steep. Raph didn’t like to splurge too often on himself, but this was a rare exception.

“You’re right, it is crazy,” he chuckles. Your grip on his wrist was also starting to dampen his spirit.

Not because he didn’t like you holding his wrist, or his phone, or his hand for that matter. He actually liked it a lot.

Which was the real problem.

Raph has been massively infatuated with you for months. He lost track of just how long it had been. Whenever he was around you, he felt off. Usually it just involved a lot of fumbling over words, being generally clumsier. He knew he wasn’t as confident as Leo, or smooth like Donnie, or even as honest as Mikey. He was just him.

While Raph anguished internally, you were practically none the wiser. You don’t seem to notice how sweaty and flustered he was all of the sudden, but you go back to innocently staring at him.

You raise your eyebrows. “So?”

That familiar, playful lilt in your voice makes all time stop for Raph. It really wasn’t fair— the amount of power your smile and your presence had over him.

Raph tosses his phone away into the far reaches of the lair before crossing his arms defiantly. “No, don’t try to convince me. It’s literally the most expensive one.”

As you calmly move your head to miss the flying phone, you smile to yourself. “Come on. This is what you’ve been obsessed with for months now. When was the last time you did something just for you?”

“Even if I did have the money, why would I spend it on something so impractical. I mean, I’m not embarrassed about liking stuffed animals or anything.”

While Raph continues ranting and pacing around, you’ve secretly pulled out your phone and looked up the plush. Without hesitation, you add it to your cart and type in your credit card.

“Sure,” you lazily nod. “You’re very secure in your masculinity.”

“Exactly!” Raph spins around to face you again. “I knew I made the right decision.”

“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing. Boom!” You take a confident step forward and reveal the check-out screen to him. At first he seems similarly excited, if a little confused.

“What?” His tone is light at first, before he realizes what you just did. “You didn’t.” A small frown tugs at his mouth.

“I did. Consider it an early birthday present.”

Raph winces, wringing his hands together. “Awesome! No, that’s great. Thank you.”

You purse your lips. “What happened? You were just all—“

What was the big deal? Did you accidentally offend him somehow?

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that the plush is…kinda not in New York.”

“Right. There’s this thing called mail, where people can send you stuff from all over the world.” You smirk, giving him a friendly pat on the cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Didn’t you read it?” He shakes his head ruefully. “It’s pickup only.”

You glance to the side. “Oh. Well, then I’ll just grab Leo’s anime swords— I mean, Leo?”

Shit. You didn’t mean to let that slip out.

“You’ve been using Leo’s odachi to portal places again, haven’t you?”

Feeling cornered, you give a quick nod.

Silence.

You knew Raph must be giving you the most disapproving look right now. You turn around and find yourself to be correct.

“It was just to pick up food! And I am not buying a car.” You huff, trying to hide your shame.

Your shoulders tense up and relax as you give up. “Fine, I’ll just do it the old fashioned way.”

Your compromise doesn’t seem to ease Raph much. In fact, he seemed sad. You stop to watch him fall face-first into the couch. A couple pizza boxes stacked beside it topple over and fall as he lays there.

“Raph!” You frown. “It’s my treat. Is that what you’re worried about? Money?”

With his head buried deep in a pillow, he groans pathetically. “No.”

If only you knew.

Carefully, you kneel down to be eye-level with him. “If you’re worried about travel, it’s fine. I’ll just go to…” You check the email for the shop’s address. “New Jersey.”

Raph shoots up from the pillow with a seriousness that surprises you. “Absolutely not.” Grabbing your shoulders, he gives them a protective squeeze. “I wouldn’t let you do that.”

Because I like you too much.

“Then what?” You mimic Raph by placing a hand on his shoulder and shaking gently. “It’s not that big of a deal, okay?”

“Yes it is! Just—“ He moves away from your hand and sits up.

Don’t make me say it.

Okay, now you were officially worried. You quietly watch, only a little hurt that Raph pulled away from your touch.

Raph sighs, similarly ashamed at how he retreated from you. Slowly, he scooches over and silently invites you to sit beside him. You look at him, then back at your phone.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me,” he frowns. “It’s just hard to talk about this kinda stuff sometimes.”

Politely, you ease your way onto the cushion next to him. “It’s okay, I get it.”

“You do?”

You finally force yourself to meet Raph’s gaze. As you turn your head to look up, you nearly fall over at the sight of him mere inches from your face.

“Ah, yeah,” you manage to get out. Covering up your bashfulness with a half-hearted smile doesn’t make you feel any less vulnerable though. You really didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but you want to understand.

You felt lightheaded and nauseous, like the moment right before a roller coaster plummets you into the earth at 80 miles per hour. You didn’t like roller coasters very much.

You also didn’t like it when you were so moved by Raph’s handsomeness and kindness that it rendered you speechless.

Raph searches your face as you sit dumbstruck. “I just don’t want you to go through all this trouble to get me some silly stuffed animal or anything.”

He smiles at you, but you can tell he’s still holding something back. You don’t know what it is, and you don’t know what you could say that wouldn’t ultimately embarrass the crap out of the both of you. All you can do is smile back.

“If that’s what you want.” You reel back and push yourself off of the couch. “Honest?”

Raph pauses, feeling torn. He wasn’t being honest, but now didn’t feel like the right time to crack open that emotional can of worms.

Nodding resolutely, he smiles again. “Honest.”

“So, I’ll just get a refund and we’ll pretend this whole thing never happened?” You feel a bead of sweat fall from your brow, and you pray Raph doesn’t notice.

“Perfect.” Similarly, he gets up and turns to hide the remnants of blush coloring his face. “I gotta go…punch a wall or somethin’.”

And like that, he disappears into the shadows of the lair, leaving you bereft with his departure.

“Well,” you announce to the empty room. “Good thing I’m a liar.”

How bad could Jersey be anyway?

—

It was worse.

“Next stop for Hackensack. All passengers for Hackensack.” A canny voice chimes in through the speakers. They seemed just as thrilled to be here as you did.

Like the genius you were, you decided to go over Raph’s head and book a train ride to the store. You’d used the subway plenty of times before, so slow-ass public transportation was no stranger to you.

But this…this was something else.

What was supposed to be a simple round trip turned into hours of sitting still on the tracks, waiting for other freight trains to pass by. The sweltering heat of the summer also made any sort of travel as slow as molasses. ‘Go to Jersey,’ you said, you’ll get together with Huginn and Muninn, have a few laughs.

A few passengers file down the aisle to exit the train. It takes your brain a few extra moments to register that this was also your stop. As you lean up from your spot against the window, a careless businessman bumps against your knee trying to get out with all his fuck-you suitcases and laptop bags.

You’ll have to apologize to Raph for unfortunately being right.

Oh yeah, Raph. You almost forgot why you came here in the first place. He’d been texting you about this and that today, and you usually responded to his texts immediately.

A frantic buzzing in your pocket makes your heart nearly stop. A phone call? You fumble around trying to grab it and your things as you try and get past a large family blocking the aisle.

You unlock your phone and bring it to your sweaty face. “Yello?”

“What kind of pizza do you want for later? Mikey said you just like plain cheese, but that didn’t sound right, so…” Raph’s voice is light and casual. You do your best to mimic it.

“Oh, yeah. He’s right, I’m kinda boring— AH!” A loud kid from earlier runs by you, barreling right over your left foot. It takes all your willpower not to scream directly into your speaker, but it’s no use.

“Ey, are you alright? What was that?”

After a second of quietly fighting back the manly tears, you recover. “Just…dropped my laptop on my foot. Ouch, ow.” Not your best performance, but it seems to do the trick.

“Ah.”

“Listen, I’m gonna call you back. Now’s not a good time.”

Before you realize it, the train lurches forward in earnest. A cold chill runs up your spine as you nearly trip backwards when the floor shifts again. “Fuck!”

You missed your stop, of course you did! A stern attendant ushers you back to an open seat, and you flip down defeated.

Raph’s voice cries out from your phone again. “Are you okay? Hello?”

“Would you like a complimentary snack?” The attendant’s annoying voice only frustrates you further. “We have pretzels, peanuts–”

“Thank you,” you spit, grabbing at the baggie in her hand. With one last terse smile, she finally leaves you be. You don't even care about the couple of peanuts that explode from the bag as you tear into it.

“Sorry. But actually, I’m gonna be a little late today. Y’know, busy with…” You glance around to try and find a worthy excuse. “Stuff.”

All of the sudden, Raph seemed strangely undeterred by your obvious lie. “Oh, sure. Stuff!”

“Yeah, but I should be back–”

As you turn your head back to the empty seat to the left of you, your heart nearly stops. It seems that in the time it took for you to come up with your phony excuse, Raph had just used Leo’s sword to portal himself directly beside you. On a train. The blue glow of the mystic portal illuminates your shocked expression.

“Ha! I knew it!” Raph points an accusatory finger as he ducks through to sit across from you.

“Uh– I…” Your voice stops in your throat. You wish you could say this wasn’t what it looks like. He doesn’t seem to be angry, more so just vindicated. You imagine he probably knew all along.

“Wait. You just used–”

Raph, for a brief moment, becomes sheepish. “W-Well, Leo was out doing–” He waves at the air. “Not the point. You’re out getting that plush, aren’t you? You lied.”

Raph clutches at his chest with both hands in a purposeful show of melodrama. He knew from the second you two parted ways that day. Sometimes it got a little frustrating dealing with how stubborn you could be. But then again, he was just as bad. Maybe even worse.

In all honesty, he wasn’t even mad. Mad that you lied to him, sure. But ultimately, it just made him flattered. It almost made him want to confess right then and there, but he holds his tongue.

After mulling around your answer, all you can do is shrug. “I’m…sorry?”

“Wow,” Raph smirks, leaning back against the uncomfortably tiny seat.

“What?” You blush. “You want me to apologize for getting you a gift? A gift that’s all the way over there now?” You point vaguely into the space behind Raph before burying your face in your hands. You don’t really know if it’s more from the embarrassment of getting caught or the fact that there was no denying it anymore.

You liked Raph. You liked him enough to travel to the most wretched hive of scum and villainy there was, apparently. You didn’t really mind Jersey, but at this point it was sort of a weird in-joke. You’re sure if you and Raph just took a trip out here yourselves, without all the deceit and unspoken awkwardness, you’d have fun.

Just tell him. It’s so obvious, isn't it?

“What, you mean…?” Raph turns to follow your hand, and puts all the pieces together. “Oh, Y/N. You didn’t have to–”

You interrupt. “Didn’t have to what? Buy a stupidly overpriced train ticket to get a stupidly overpriced stuffed animal? From some stupid little gargoyles? For some stupid, dumb…” You stand up suddenly, trying to get out all the pent up energy you evidently had bubbling just beneath the surface. You pace around the empty area at the back of the train for a second, ranting and babbling to yourself.

“For some stupid, dumb turtle dude. For a turtle dude!” The slight absurdity of the whole situation seems to dawn on you, and you can’t help but smile a little. The small smile widens into a grin and you start to chortle. You turn back to Raph and finally collapse back into your seat, absolutely spent from just that momentary show of emotion. Life would be so much easier if feelings didn’t get in the way, or turtle dudes. But, here you were, a pathetic, bumbling human trying their best not to make their amazing, strong, talented, funny, sweet best friend know what’s so blatantly clear.

You love him, idiot!

While you fall back down into your seat, Raph takes the opportunity to really analyze the situation from all angles. Leo was always better at this kind of stuff than him, but he needed to think carefully about this. He was usually prone to jumping headfirst into everything, for better and worse. Right now, his gut feeling was telling him the same thing as yours.

Just tell them. They went through all this trouble for you, so what’s the problem? What a loser…

Absent-mindedly, Raph picks up the bag of snacks you had and starts popping a couple into his mouth. Eating usually helped his brain slow down enough for him to focus up again.

You look up and stare out into the rapidly-changing environment outside of the train. You always liked sitting near a window whenever you traveled. To stay still while the world moved at a break-neck pace, it felt euphoric to watch the trees and buildings zoom by. It made you calm for a moment. After a charged couple of seconds, you catch your breath again. You didn’t realize you hadn’t been breathing.

“I really am sorry. I just wanted to do something nice–” You force yourself to turn your body back to Raph, and you look up in slow motion. You stare on in horror for what feels like hours as you watch him swallow a singular peanut.

Raph looks down at you curiously. It seemed like you were about to say something important. He leans down instinctually to get more eye-level with you. “What? What is it?��

He bites at the inside of his cheek, waiting for you to say what was just sitting at the tip of your tongue.

In a panic, all you can think to do is slap the bag of poison from his right hand and scream. “AAAH–!”

“Wha–?” Raph’s hand opens up. Lying on the ground, he reads the letters slowly, speaking them aloud. “Honey roasted…peanuts.”

“YOU’RE GONNA DIE! RAPH!”

“Spit it out! Throw up!” You don’t really know what you’re saying at this point. All you see is Raph and the panic in his eyes. “Stop the train!”

“S-STOP–! Choking–!” His voice comes out broken and frantic. “The pen!”

His hands move immediately to his belt, fumbling around for the epipen he’s never had to use until now. How could he be this spectacularly dumb? Not only were you probably about to pour your heart and soul out to him, he was about to do the same. In the background, a small crowd of confused employees and passengers turn to look at the weird scene unfolding at the back of the car. The same passive-aggressive attendant creeps up slowly next to you to try and de-escalate.

“Excuse me, is there a problem folks?” Her sickly, saccharine smile makes your blood boil.

Without thinking, you turn and snap back. “Yes, there’s a problem– My boyfriend’s freaking dying and you’re standing there handing out peanuts? Are you insane?!”

Raph’s eyes somehow go wider than they already were.

Glancing back down, you realize that he’s been trying and failing to communicate to you that you need to stick him with the pen. You snatch Raph’s belt clean off of his waist and riffle through all the annoying little pockets until you find it.

“Here! Here it is Raph!” You nearly cry from relief. Smiling, you grab ahold of his right hand and close his fist around the pen. “You’re not gonna die!”

Thankfully in doing so you release Raph’s neck, allowing him to speak again. “G-Great! Thank you…”

In the background, you can already hear the employees start to circle around you and Raph. You might not ever get to ride a train again after this, but you didn’t care. Fuck trains.

Raph’s hand stills, suddenly overcome with fear.

“Raph?” You frown at him.

“I’m scared.” He peeks over at you, his face twisted with shame.

“UGH! Fine!” You take the initiative and grab the pen, removing the cap with your teeth like a badass. With all your strength, which you figure you’ll probably need to fully pierce Raph’s thick, leathery skin, you reel back and stab it into his upper leg.

You close your eyes, content with having finally ended the nightmare. “Phew…”

Meanwhile, Raph waits rather impatiently. “Sometime today would be nice!”

Oh, you didn’t actually do it. “Right.”

You repeat the same motion with your hand, pulling back before jamming it in. Surely you didn’t chicken out a second time.

“Y/N!” Raph shouts, exasperated and confused.

“Goddamnit!” You grit your teeth and pull back again, looking at him tearfully. “I can’t do it! I’m a liar and a coward.”

Looking at your utterly terrified face, Raph can’t help but comfort you. Even as he feels his throat begin to tighten up, he takes his free hand to lay it over your trembling one. “No you’re not, you’re–”

“No, I am a liar. I lied to you, I’ve lied to Leo and Donnie and Mikey, I’ve lied to April and Splinter.” You try to wipe away the tears before looking back at Raph’s leg. “I lied because I was scared.”

While nobody’s come to you per se and asked you to your face, you know they knew. They all knew. Maybe you could have gotten over yourself for once and just come clean to everyone, but you knew you couldn’t. The idea of potentially ruining a friendship that’s been built for years with one awkward confession or less than charming moment, it made you absolutely terrified. You thought you would rather die than confess.

But, if all this secrecy and denial was going to literally kill him, that terrified you even more.

“Raph…” You swallow your pride and steel yourself.

To both of your surprise, the train comes to one final stop. The breaks screech to a halt, making the car lurch forward and back with incredible force. You lock eyes with Raph just as the train launches you forward, forcing your hand to push on the epipen’s plunger and jam it into his leg.

“Woah–!” Raph then catches you as you land squarely on his broad chest.

The pain of the needle didn’t even phase Raph. Though the effect of the pen took an immediate effect, his throat still felt tight. His heart was thundering in his chest, his hands felt cold and clammy. Was this still an allergic reaction?

“Sorry for the delay folks. We just have a minor…mutant medical matter to…mediate.” The canny voice of the speakers makes everyone else on the train groan in annoyance.

The two of you continue to stare at one another. Weirdly enough, neither of you feel the anxiety or weight of the unspoken words you both felt before. The feelings you both shared that forced you to stay silent, to laugh off the odd comments or blushes that threatened to expose you to each other. There was no fear anymore.

There was just you and him.

–

Raph gives one last ‘thank you’ and ‘sorry’ to the conductor and the ambulance people who were brought in just in case. The train dumped the two of you off at a random stop before moving on, leaving you both in the empty indoor waiting area of the train station.

You stare blankly ahead as you feel Raph sit next to you again. The bench you’re both on feels cold on your hand as you drum your fingers against it.

You guess you’re the one who needs to talk first. “So…”

“I like you,” Raph finishes.

You blink, raising your head up slowly. “I...like you.”

For a moment of silence, you each look off into the distance and melt into laughter. It’s an enormous relief to finally realize that the two of you have been harboring the exact same feelings and being afraid for the exact same reason.

But at the same time, it all seems so silly now.

“Why did we wait this long?” You chuckle, feeling the tears coming back.

Raph bumps your shoulder affectionately as he tries to fight back his own. “Why was I such a coward?”

You gather yourself and look up at him. “I can just see the obituary. Raphael Hamato, death by 1 (one) peanut.” You hold up your index finger.

Raph guffaws and breaks out into a full-belly laugh, and you can’t help but egg him on.

“I should’ve known. Only in Jersey.”

The two of you exchange a heartfelt smile as you unintentionally lean in. Raph’s concentration gets interrupted however when a couple of unexpected figures fly by outside. It looked like a weird, fat bird or something.

“What the…” Raph stands up to investigate.

As he pushes open the doors to look around, he almost trips over a mysterious bag sitting on the ground. He leans down and picks up a sticky note attached to the handle.

Here you go Red! Hope this makes up for all the times we helped Draxum try to kill you and your family. Also, how’s he doing? He won’t answer our texts, calls, or letters. Love, Huginn and Muninn <3

Raph smiles and shakes his head. “No way.”

Sure enough, inside the bag was the weird cow-rabbit plush that kicked off this whole crusade in the first place. He supposed he should be happy to finally have it.

Sneaking up behind him, you peek around Raph’s shell. “Wow, what service.”

“To be honest, I don’t really know if I want it anymore.” Raph smiles down at you warmly, putting the plush back in the bag and handing it to you.

“Oh no, don’t do that.” You grin and push the bag back to him.

“Come on, you deserve it.” He hands it back.

“You almost died from a peanut.” You push it again.

Raph’s sunny disposition doesn’t falter. “I want you to have it.”

Your eyes darken and you give the bag one final push into his stomach. “Just take the damn plush.”

Raph’s pouts bashfully before he relents. “You really are stubborn, you know?”

Smirking, you grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder. “And you’re so perfect? I sure know how to pick ‘em.”

Before reaching for his phone to text Leo, Raph watches on curiously as you change your mind and grab for the plush. “Hm?”

In an impulsive move, you hold the plush up to your face to give it a good once over. It was even cuter in person. You close your eyes and give its snout a tiny smooch before handing it back to Raph. You don’t try and hide the deep red your cheeks have turned.

Picking up on your invitation, Raph gingerly takes the plush into his hands and plants a kiss of his own on the same exact spot.

Though his heart felt full to the point of bursting at the seams, he didn’t mind the feeling. He felt bigger, more complete.

I love you too.

taglist: @saspas-corner

[wordbunch]

Their love song (Taylor Swift edition) > The Hobbit characters

a/n: welcome to my little self-indulgent celebration of 700 followers! 🥳 EVEN IF you're not a fan/don't know the songs, I hope you can still like and support this fic - a lot of time and love went into it! and by all means come talk to me about it or suggest your own songs! love you all so much and thank you for reading my stories and being a WONDERFUL community 💕💕💕 i've never written for many of these characters so i'm excited!

BILBO ♡ sweet nothing

Undoubtedly, the world can be really difficult and overwhelming at times, and it is then that the two of you find comfort and safety with each other. You don't even need to be doing anything special, it's enough to just be existing together and enjoying the simple pleasures of life in your own little world, it is the love that feels like home.

BARD ♡ mary's song (oh my my my)

Most certainly a family man who loves his town and his people, and he deserves this lovely underrated song. He would always choose to pursue a committed, lifelong relationship, have a family with you and be a part of the community. Eventually it would be so nice to reflect on decades of love and support, still by each other's side and still in love.

THORIN ♡ gold rush

pun mildly intended This dwarf can be a little intimidating, despite his height, and he is a very captivating presence, who can also be a little arrogant at times. You weren't sure how you felt about him at first, but after getting to know each other, you realized there was a heart of gold hiding in his chest, just waiting for someone to unlock it and be fiercely loved by him.

FÍLI ♡ invisible string

He is a romantic soul who believes in destiny, and finding the love of his life who is meant just for him. He is thankful for all the things in both of your lives that brought you together, even if they seemed bad at the time - but they resulted in a beautiful love story in the end, and he will be devoted to you forever.

KÍLI ♡ paper rings

Although he is a bit more playful and fervent, he is the person who falls absolutely head over heels, and nobody saw it coming at all, which makes it an even sweeter story to tell. He doesn't care about any circumstances, he just cares about being close to you, no matter when, where or how.

TAURIEL ♡ mastermind

She thought she was being very smooth when you caught her eye, and she was convinced that you couldn't tell that she was absolutely melting inside whenever you were near, but to her absolute astonishment, you noticed fairly quickly. Still, you let her play her little game and "win" you over, though you had been won for longer than she was aware.

THRANDUIL ♡ don't blame me

His love is intense, passionate and even a little bit possessive, but he disregards everybody's comments and opinions on it. Why should he care? It only matters that he found the perfect person who loves him with all his flaws and virtues, and he likes to make it known that he would do basically anything for them.

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[starflungwaddledee]

Ok so I read awtdy au stuff in order according to a link you made and it gave me so many questions.

Like when exactly did they swap in the new timeline? Because it can’t be from their beginnings as Meta wouldn’t be sealed for the being too powerful like Galacta was so unless you can give another reason for the sealing then Meta shouldn’t be sealed if it was at that time. And other times have other complications due to be not being swapped from the beginning.

I know Gooey’s definitely dead because come on we know how Galacta’s been raising Kirby and while I am mildly displeased at Galacta causing the death of what I consider a very interesting character I know it definitely happens.

I know Necrodeus’s ambush on Kirby in the original time line definitely is a surprise for Galacta when it happens in the altered one as there is absolutely no reason for him to know it happens because why would he. He wasn’t summoned during the events of the game and who would know it that ambush happens? Marx definitely doesn’t know because come on why would he. Bandana dee probably know about from what Kirby told him during the original but as during the ambush no one was with Kirby; Bandana dee wouldn’t know what exactly happened like the exact when or where.

Does Stardream and other Ancient made stuff know of the timeline altering? Because I personally find it kinda weird if they don’t remember and that Galacta doesn’t use this chance to get another wish for something.

I hope that Galacta since he is more ruthless doesn’t kill Kracko after Kirby fights him. Because the Kracko has a kid named Kracko Jr. I am kinda finding some humor in that Galacta, the guy with a attack that has heart shape on it, is so heartless. Anyways I have liked the story.

okay, this is a pretty long ask with a lot of questions; i'll answer what i can! to start with, here's a basic timeline breakdown which will hopefully help:

the rest will be mostly text answers with one little drawing at the end!

when did they swap? how did meta knight get sealed?

during the events of the haltmann invasion. there is a little bit of wifflewaffle 'what's canon' here, but we adjusted the canon ending of robobot a tiny bit to allow galacta knight to appear (as he does in Meta Knightmare Returns) and for him to defeat meta knight and make a wish on star dream. galacta knight wished for them to trade places; for meta knight to go into the crystal and for himself to be sent to popstar to enjoy meta knight's life. he did this to ensure his own escape and also to make meta knight suffer. strength, power, or being 'the greatest warrior in the galaxy' didn't factor into this in any way; the crystal is a magical prison and doesn't care who it's holding.

is ____ character dead?

probably. sorry. this is not a lighthearted AU and galacta knight purposefully seeks out and eliminates kirby's allies in order to isolate him. there is a happy "everybody lives" ending, but if the (mostly temporary) existence of all this character death or the absence of your specific faves for any reason upsets you, then you do not need to read this au! gooey in particular was actually already asked after in the comments section of this post! <- (cw: lying and psychological manipulation)

what about (events in non-mainline games)?

this au is dreamland four centric (+ magolor) and tends to follow the mainline games more than others. none the less, in response to Mass Attack in particular: this occurs right before galacta knight's entry point. so there's a chance that it would have been over before he even got there

would galacta knight know about (event)?

i really like the attention to detail you thought about on whether he is or isn't summoned or present in certain in-game timelines! however for the sake of this au, there is a headcanon in place that galacta knight exists atemporally and outside of time, and has done for longer than many people can fathom. he can see and interact with events from timelines and dimensions to his liking; he was inhibited on doing this by being trapped in the crystal this is implied a little in the ending of the another dimension fight comic, where he tells meta knight "to watch". from within the crystal, meta knight can see all of this new timeline unfolding, because the crystal is turning him into an atemporal being as well. there is also a specific connection between him and galacta knight at play, but rest assured; galacta knight is simply obsessed with meta knight's timeline and if he had arrived before necrodeus's ambush he would most certainly have been expecting it and would probably have just not let kirby take a nap that day.

what about what other characters know?

bandee knows what he's experienced first hand, and what kirby's told him. so sure, he'd know about necrodeus- and other adventures before his time- second hand from kirby. marx (who is not present in base awtdy au) is also caught up by the "here's the new rules of the universe! this guy was always here!" that occurs when galacta knight assumes meta knight's place. however, he is capable of noticing that meta knight is missing because meta knight is part of galactic nova's timeline, and so he can put two and two together. if the wish had removed anyone else, marx would not have been able to tell. he is however very smart and extremely attentive, and does have ways to notice other shit happening; which is how he clues in during the clockwork heart variant of this au.

galacta knight heart motifs vs heartlessness

not really a question but yeah, it's delicious isn't it? this is why i love him as an eldritch, unfathomably relentless and unstoppable villain lmao. i actually find the version of him we have created in our heads so compelling and interesting; we have bucketloads of characterisation for him if anyone's ever interested!

wouldn't galacta knight try to get another wish?

have never said he is not trying to do this

does stardream or any other ancient made stuff know about the timeline altering?

the answers to this are important actually and tie into our headcanons for the wishing stars and how they work. stardream knows because it powered the wish. galactic nova does not know because the wish was not made by her; also she just doesn't care. several other ancient artifacts don't know, but have the means to figure it out. some definitely remember better times, though:

[hotpinkboots]

I am back with more Corpse Bride Emily, and today, I would like to ask for gn!darling comforting and reassuring Emily? Giving her affection, praising her, telling her generally sweet things, saying how they'll stay together forever, etc. Super teeth rotting fluff with how Emily would react to it and all

Take care, take your time, and keep up the fabulous work! Make sure to stay healthy! ♡

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~𝓔𝓶𝓲𝓵𝔂 x GN!Reader Fluff Headcanons~

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Does anybody truly understand the pure joy I get when somebody requests with Emily? DOES ANYBODY TRULY UNDERSTAND

I completely went off on this and just typed all the fluff I could think of

Summary: Just Emily and the reader being the sweetest couple to ever exist 🥺

Warning(s): None, just some dead people lmao

~Enjoy~

★★★★

𝓔𝓶𝓲𝓵𝔂

★★★★

~Having such a sweet lover makes her heart feel like it's beating again, and her cold dead skin practically feels warm with life.

~Emily simply adores how you dote on her.

~She'll giggle and playfully make an "oh, stop" motion in response.

~Or, she'll bat her lovely lashes and look down, bashfully avoiding eye contact, while her hand comes to rest against her décolletage. If her heart could still beat, it would have been thumping rather hard against her chest.

~Emily has every single bit of trust in you.

~Occasionally, Maggot will get in her head (literally) about something, if you've done even the tiniest thing such as leaving her early for personal matters you must attend to. Poor Emily is encouraged by Maggot to follow you to make sure you aren't out cheating.

~He's actually rather protective of Emily, believe it or not, he gets feisty and fired up for her like he's going to fight somebody.

~So, it's most definitely not that he's purposely trying to make her second guess herself about you, but he just wishes her the best. His mildly sarcastic humor isn't supposed to be cruel towards her, but he has to be there to knock some sense into her if needed, for she can be a bit too naive.

~Once Maggot believes that you're just as sweet as you act, he accepts that and stops trying to make comments about you (unless he gets bored, which then he sometimes may make a few snotty jokes).

~Emily always returns your affections.

~If she ever feels a bit self conscious about herself, you listen to her, then reassure her of her beauty. Not only is she pretty on the outside, she's pretty on the inside.

~She has such a sweet and gentle soul, your words of commitment and adoration never fail to make her melt.

~She very much enjoys holding your hand while you're out together. Gives your hand a little squeeze now and then. Emily likes feeling your hand in hers, and she sometimes rubs little circles into your hand with her thumb.

~If you let go of her hand before she's ready, her hand might literally pop off and keep hold of yours.

~She felt a bit embarrassed about it for a moment until she realized that you had found it to be cute.

~Everybody in The Land Of The Dead seems to know you two, and they often comment on what a sweet couple you and Emily are.

~You'll hear a lot of aww-ing, and people love watching you and Emily dance together at the jazz bar.

~Emily takes every sweet thing you say to heart. She remembers just about every compliment you've given her, every sweet look from across the room.

~She loves it when you refer to her as your wife rather than just calling her by name.

~In return, she refers to you in conversation as her lover or partner.

~Occasionally flaunts her wedding ring by talking with her hands more than needed.

~10/10 best wife ever

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Request Guidelines!

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Join my Discord Server! There you can talk about my fanfiction, roleplay, chat, watch movies and listen to music with other fandom nerds!:

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~Love, PinkBoots

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

How would Vyes be with period comfort? Like I feel like he's the perfect person for that tbh, especially since his data collection obsession probably lends itself well to comfort.

(And I think Monty is the dude that'll send you a picture of the health isle and ask "What size pussy you wear?")

Tw: Afab reader

Absolutely. Yves collected enough information to know what ticks you off and what placates you during your period. Not to mention, since he has special environmentally altering devices around his house, you will find that your period symptoms are non-existent at best, mildly annoying at worst.

You will find it strange that you possess the energy and painlessness to do whatever you see in those sanitary products advertisements on TV. Yves has to remind you to change your pad or tampon regularly, because he is so good at alleviating it to the point you don't notice the ickiness down there. It's as if you don't have it.

He will pay extra attention to your nutrition during this time. Because you are losing blood and your hormones are running amok. Yves knows what each craving means; which mineral or vitamin you're lacking. He would fortify the meal with the required nutrients so that he could stop your desire to eat something unhealthy.

It depends on who you are as a person during menstruation, if you're the type to be clingy and whiny, you would notice a stark increase in his presence. Yves would touch you more, become a lot more chattier but his words are subliminally making you think highly of yourself. He knows that you tend to self hate during this vulnerable time.

If you want to be left alone, he will give you that. But within reason. Yves will be very careful with his words, getting straight to the point yet loving. So he wouldn't need to waste any of your precious patience.

Don't get him wrong, he understands when you're pushing him away because you want attention. There is a distinct difference even though it may be unnoticeable and irrational to the normal person.

Yves would stay with his arms crossed, waiting for you to give in and admit that you're acting standoffish because you thought he was going to leave you. Of course, he would reassure that he wouldn't and that he loves you more than anything in the world. Then, he would give you a light scolding for your behavior.

He isn't doing it to embarrass you. Yves is doing that in hopes of eradicating any thoughts pertaining to Yves being incapable of loving you at your worst.

Yves would do anything for you if you asked nicely, you're going to get told off if you're rude. It's not like you would be mean to him anyways, since he ensures that you're always in a good mood.

However, if you're staying away from him, you are expected to be lethargic and irritable. He doesn't have his intricate system fitted into your current address, but it doesn't mean he can't control the temperature, light, humidity and even pressure of your room.

You're definitely noticing that you're having your period, but your mood always greatly improves if Yves is around. Maybe it's because he does all the chores for you, your way without asking. He seems to know your personal system, nothing he does will ever be "wrong" in your eyes. He cooks your meals the way you like it, Yves puts everything back to its original place.

Maybe you would have to endure some nagging if the placement of your items doesn't make sense (eg. Storing canned food in your bathroom drawer), but otherwise, he is compliant to your standards. It is your home, after all.

You would not have to be embarrassed when he handwashes everything stained with your blood, separate from your other clothes. He enjoys taking care of you and would be visibly upset if you take that joy away from him.

Yves knows your favourite brand of sanitary products. He understands why, you probably liked its texture, its durability, the fragrance or lack thereof, the size and shape. It's important because in the case where the brand was discontinued, he could easily find a replacement that is equally perfect for you.

He has a section in his information vault reserved for your menstruation cycle. It contains all possible records of your symptoms, the factors that may be affecting said symptoms, the length of the cycle, your discharges and microbial compositions, lab results of your blood, even some used pads and tampons. But they're preserved safely and neatly with appropriate labels.

His collection is extensive, Yves even has swabs of the pus from pimples during your period, swabs of your skin, sweat and other somatic samples. Photographs of your face and body, allowing him to discern if there were any differences if you were at that time of the month or not. Recordings of your voice, reports of your breathing, twitching, heart rate, blood composition and toilet habits. Digital copies of your internet activities when you're suffering from different blood flows, studies regarding the menstrual cycle and so on.

Yves knows how you smell before each phase of the cycle. He puts his degree in chemical perfumery to good use, creating fragrances that are an amplified version of your scents so he has something to refer to. Yves would be alarmed when you smell completely different from his reference materials because that usually spells impending illness. And he is never wrong.

The smell doesn't necessarily mean the odor coming from your groin. It's the scent he detects standing six feet or closer to you. Your hair, your sweat, your skin, your breath, etcetera.

All this time, you simply thought he was a very attentive boyfriend or husband. You never wish he would go away while you're suffering with your period. He always knows what to say, how to say it and what to do. If only you knew the full extent of his research...

Montgomery on the other hand, he is panicking every month when you bled through the sheets, thinking that you're in excruciating pain.

It's clear as to why, because the women of his family have severe cramps and would be put out of commission during menstruation. An inherited curse. Coupled with the sight of heavy blood flow, the men in his family understand that it's not a walk in the park to have a uterus.

You're lucky that he's mostly occupied with work, or else he would have forced you to be bed bound. No cooking, no going to work, no going to the toilet without him (you could faint and hit your head!), no walking around and straining yourself in any way.

He doesn't get how not all people react the same way to their periods, sometimes Montgomery would be reduced to tears if he knows you're doing his chores while on your period, babbling about how you shouldn't torture yourself for him. Montgomery's insistence that he takes care of you, would annoy you to hell. Especially if his way of caretaking doesn't align to your idea of comfort.

Montgomery would look like you lost your mind if you asked for period sex. That is like asking to fuck an open wound in his dear spouse: insane, cruel and dangerous. It's one of the few instances where he would say no to sex.

Montgomery wouldn't ask which to get, because he will get one of each. He will bring it back home and will continue to buy the ones you liked. You better remind him which brand and size, because if he forgot, he is going to buy the entire aisle off.

He is susceptible to marketing tactics employed by companies that use periods as an advertisement tool. For example, if he happens to look up from shovelling dirt all day, wiping his brow and sees a gigantic billboard telling him that a notebook is all it takes to soothe period cramps, that will be the first thing he buys for you that day.

Anything to alleviate your period pain, his poor sweetheart must be under so much pain, and it kills Montgomery that he can't take the hurt away.

He may not be helpful at times, but Montgomery means well.

[elizabethrobertajones]

While I'm busy making every other post on my blog about Wyll Ravengard...

I can't stop thinking about how utterly doomed he was as the Duke's son and the huge plan unfurling in the shadows of Baldur's Gate... Like, he would have been killed or imprisoned or seduced to the dark side thinking he was doing the right thing or just tadpoled immediately and been a True Soul that was a more subtle target than just snatching his father outright on Day 1 of initiating the Absolute Plan. Would have found out something mildly suspicious was going on and leaped right in and been overwhelmed, or been snatched off the streets by cultists... Whatever it would have been, he was dead meat.

Point is, I don't want to condone Mizora at all, but like, he was alive, and made a "choice" and had ""agency"" and """freedom""" and was allowed most importantly to keep his personhood and sense of justice and I guess Mizora just found it really funny to keep a pet hero and stoke him up and she could thrive on the irony of it all because he was never corrupted into being an edgelord who enjoyed the darker side of it... The fact his personality got through it intact is the most important part of his whole character as you start to learn about him and realise he actually is That Nice.

Since it got him out of the city and kept him away from the heart of the plotting, and even the situation that he'd been exiled and the generic [Balduran] conversation choice is either "huh I heard vaguely you'd gone" or "I literally did not know you existed" it's obviously not talked about much. Like, he's WAY under the radar. (Hilariously, later when you get to BG proper, not being recognisable because of Mizora devilling him up double helps with being incognito on top of him having not been home in so long anyway that some people forgot he existed.)

Just musing on how he did seem to get maybe the easiest and safest scenario possible by finding one of the only ways to pry him out of the otherwise destined life he'd have lead riiiight up until the Absolute stuff caught up with his family and he would have been defenceless, oblivious and right in the middle of it all. And like. Yeah, okay, don't do demon deals kids. But it is hilarious how Mizora airlifted him miraculously out of a destined certain death.

[orphiclovers]

Hope you don't mind elaborating on the other turns' YJH's relationship with SP and 3rd/1864th turn YJH? I genuinely enjoyed the other posts and wouldn't mind seeing more. ❤️

anon I will NEVER mind elaborating & I thank you for enabling my madness. I love talking about them sm <3

I guess I'll start off with 41&SP since I've been thinking about them and you didn't specify which one I should talk about. and. there's literally 1864 (?) different Yoo Joonghyuks. that's 1,736,316 combinations of pairings I could talk about. I'm never running out of content as long as I'm alive (well I'm not crazy enough to have headcanons for all of their relationships. yet. link to my YJH relationship chart).

this post has PARTS thats how long it got. under read more it goes

41's personality

oh 41, you miserable, miserable man. during the 41st regression, Yoo Joonghyuk had decided to harden his heart into cold, brutal practicality. he would use any means necessary to achieve his purpose, even if he had to sacrifice his companions. (he never called them that during this round, so it would hurt less when they died (didn't work)). he tried very hard to make himself an emotionless machine (see: him carelessly saying he doesn't give a shit, beyond losing tools he could use, when lee hyungsung and lee jihye die).

We get most of this characterization from the Disaster of Floods, 41st Shin Yoosung, who had a deeply messed up relationship with him that's its own post. she was the only one by his side till the very end and had to witness his cruelty, which traumatized her. and then he sent her to the past, abondened her in the labyrinth of the worlds- his ultimate unforgivable act. (quote 'The things done by the 41st round Yoo Joonghyuk were worse than murder.')

but as much as he tried, he couldn't become that heartless monster he showed to the world. (see: him promising Shin Yoosung they would go on a trip together after the scenarios were over. even at his worst, he couldn't help but try to comfort her.)

SP's thoughts on 41

41 and SP spend multiple scenes hanging out one-on-one so we have a lot to go off regarding their relationship. 41 is Secretive Plotter's second-in-command, the one who is closest to him and who spends the most time with him. For SP, this is because he finds 41 the most quote 'similar to himself' (in their ends justify the means, no matter how cruel approach) and thinks he's most likely to understand SP's actions. also since 41 is similar to him, and SP is the peak strongest smartest YJH, 41's opinion is automatically also worth more, right? girlmath (sp is arrogant).

SP relies on 41 as a trusted advisor and subordinate, let's him in on plans and asks for his opinion/advice sometimes, even if he doesn't necessarily take it. gives him commands and resposibilities and expects them to be done competently. even let's him see his vulnerable moments (do we remember the scene where SP woke up from a nightmare and 41 was there. that was to me what lemon candy moment is to doksoo fans).

SP cares for and is fond of and feels mildly possesive/protective over 41, but only the same amount as all the other regressions, nothing special about 41 in particular. SP think's every version of YJH belongs to him (see: n'gai forest's whole existence. see: 'return to me, [999]' see: 'return to me, the place you're supposed to be is here!' talking to 1863. see: 'That guy from the 1863rd should've been a part of me originally. Just like all of you.'). but he takes it for granted when that is true, because we only pine after what we don't have. like 3rd. (and 999.)

41's thoughts on SP

it's clear to me that 41 idolizes SP very much (in a 'he's me if I succeeded' way). when SP calls them similar and 41 says 'what an honor that is' he's not being sarcastic. he sees it as an honor that SP trusts him and thinks it would be better if he only trusted him, and not unreliable people like 999 (quote: [41] spoke with a voice containing a faint trace of rage. "It was a mistake to send him. Send me, instead. [999] is too soft.") and kdj (quote: "It's all because of that fool, Kim Dokja.") (this is partly jealousy. 'SP doesnt need anyone else when he has me' type of vibe.)

he takes his role as advisor very seriously. sees it as his job to point out the things SP doesn't catch or notice, question him, etc. sometimes feels frustrated when SP refuses to see reason (especially regarding 999)

still he is too loyal to ever disobey and the final decisions are always Plotter's. 41 is only subservient to him. ('lowered his head slowly' in acquiescence and submission. 'if thats what you want' im insane)

41 is very protective of SP. sees himself as a loyal knight, the only one capable of protecting his king. (probably literally calls SP 'my king' in his head...) very quick to jump to SP's defence at any point, absolutely hates people who disrespect him or betray him or dare to speak to him... sometimes goes too far and SP has to reprimand him/ make him back off.

this is after kdj provokes SP. see how 41 immedietly jumps to defend him? and how SP calls 41 off with a single word, literally like a guard dog? SP dismisses his concerns regarding 999 in a similar way.

41 also, and I cannot stress this enough, constantly looks at SP with yearning goey eyes. half the scenes hes in he's just...staring. with love. at SP.

41 too, is cringe and in love with someone who doesn't pay him any special attention. this is a yoo joonghyuk's natural state

[anne-chloe]

Underground | XI |

Jareth/The Goblin King x F! Reader

Summary : Time is running out, and Jareth has invited you to dance to help make up your mind.

There's only 1 hour left.

You had only 1 hour left to decide about Jareth's confession; about the future he was proposing for you. He could bring you whatever you desired, and all you had to do was serve him, and he would serve you.

You twisted the crystal ball mindlessly in your fingers, only half watching Harry as he scouted the final stretch of the labyrinth. He was surrounded by material junk; navigating through items that used to be nostalgic and familiar, but now only served purpose to distract him. You couldn't focus on him; you could only focus on what he had done, how he had driven you to wish him away to the goblins, how he drove you to want revenge for his betrayal.

Could you really do it? Could you really abandon the life you had made for yourself in return for everything you desired? Wasn't that seen as selfish?

You thought hard about your parents, who lived in another part of the country. They would obviously miss you, but they wouldn't notice that you were gone until you'd stop returning their calls. Would Harry tell them about your choice? Would he call you selfish? Would he inform them that you had betrayed him in return for his initial betrayal? And if you were to return home again, what would become of your life, and what would become of the Goblin King?

You'd loved Harry once. You'd given yourself to him and you'd doted on him. Harry was never a bad person until he chose another; he'd always cared for you, treated you well. He had supported your dreams despite his aggressive argument; he'd encouraged you through the tough trials of life. Harry was your rock once, the root of your existence. He was familiar and all that you knew of adult relationships. Of partnerships.

You could easily leave Jareth's world and return with Harry. You could work things out about his infidelity. You could mend your relationship.

But did you really want that?

There was only 40 minutes left.

Harry was only part way through the junkyard. The Goblin City loomed in the distance. It was far more menacing than what you remembered. It looked like a barren wasteland, born to be intimidating to anybody that dared to trespass there.

You chewed on your bottom lip while curling yourself up on Jareth's throne. The throne room was completely empty; the goblins had scattered the moment Jareth ordered them away, allowing you the time you needed to be with your thoughts.

The goblins.

Could you truly live in coexistence with them? They had been human once, only now they were stripped of their humanity. You wondered if you'd grow accustomed to their trickster tendencies. If you'd grow fond of their presence. Jareth seemed mildly annoyed at times with them, but all the same he must enjoy their company or else he wouldn't keep them.

30 minutes.

Harry's leg was stuck inside a box. He toppled forwards and aggressively tried to scramble free, his mouth moving fast as he yelled in frustration.

Had he always been so...

Aggressive?

You couldn't recall a time where he'd ever raised his voice at you before, nor to anyone within your presence. This could easily be the cause of your betrayal to him; it could easily be the result of his betrayal to you. This development could have been brewing the entire time he met with Casey, when he'd shower her in the same affections that he once gave to you only.

The door opened to your right. You trailed from your thoughts and sat yourself upright, watching curiously as a beat trail of goblins entered in almost silence. They whispered and muttered amongst themselves, seeming nervous yet excited. You tucked the crystal ball into your pocket and stood up from your seat, wondering what was about to happen.

"Yous is need'd now," the tallest goblin announced after dramatically clearing his throat. The other goblins nodded enthusiastically in alliance, muttering encouragement to have you follow them. "Time be short."

"Okay. Where am I needed, exactly?" You asked, gently stepping down from the throne and shuffling awkwardly after the small group of goblins. They guided you out of the throne room and to the immediate right.

"To Him," the chunkiest goblin chortled. "He wants you."

Him. They must mean Jareth. With the time almost over, you figured he must want your answer. Your hand brushed absently over your pocket, and thoughts of Harry flashed in your mind again.

You weren't scared. You were confused. Is this the life you wanted for yourself? To be a servant yet to be served?

The goblins led you into a room larger than you could fully comprehend. You gasped in admiration for the luxurious decoration. Expensive cloth was draped in every inch; gold, silver and glitter woven seamlessly into the room. People dressed in ball gowns and tailored suits danced and twirled, their voices sounding muffled, but growing clearer as you took timid steps further.

They wore masks that depicted goblin structure, all with various shapes. Some with long noses; others with droopy eyes.

"What is this?" You managed to ask, now turning around to face the goblins who had guided you here. But you fell quiet and startled as they were no longer there. You faced the way you had come, only to be staring directly into a curved mirror. The door was no longer there. You watched as couples twirled behind you, and suddenly your mind felt hazy, like you were experiencing a dream.

You no longer looked rough and tired. Instead, you were dressed up in the finest of gowns. Light blue and embedded with jewels; the skirt was heavy looking, yet as you swished your waist it felt incredibly light. The shoulders were a type of mesh material, and it was completely sleeveless. Your arms were protected by silk gloves, which matched the colour scheme you had been dressed in. Your makeup was simple yet elegant, and your hair was half up, half down, woven with the same jewels and glitter that decorated your dress. A small tiara perched on your head.

You frowned at the realisation that you weren't weary a mask like everyone else.

You slowly turned around, a worry cascading over you as various eyes finally found your form. You took tentative steps into the room, straightening out your shoulders and keeping your head held high. But you were okay—this felt no different than walking on stage in front of hundreds of people in an audience. The only difference is that there was no script, no guidance on what to say or do.

20 minutes remained for Harry.

You explored the ballroom in a hidden childish delight. You'd always dreamed of being swept away in the elegance of a masquerade ball; something straight out of a fairy tale. You were briefly reminded of Cinderella when she met her Prince Charming, and how they danced so beautifully throughout the night—until the clock struck twelve and the magic started to lift.

Would the magic vanish at the thirteenth hour?

You listened to the other dancers as they spoke with one another, their voices joyous and happy. They shared tales of their adventures; memories that made one another smile and snicker. Their words created a familiarity inside you, recognising their personalities as those of your beloved cast mates and friends.

"... hiccuped during her monologue!" One of the patrons finished with a howling laugh, her smile wide and rather contagious. You stifled a laugh with your hand gently pressed to your lips, your shoulders shaking at the fond memory that had you enraptured. "The audience was none the wiser. Yet she maintained an elegance that nobody could possess."

Yes, you could recall that very moment fondly. You had been tasked with a tricky role, one that needed a lot of emotion. The monologue was situated in between the main number of songs; it was the breakaway that allowed the scene to have a rapid change. You had to pace yourself, yet you had to remain in time with the steady beat of music that helped to guide your flow of words. As soon as the monologue finished, you went straight into belting with raw emotion. It had taken the audience by storm, and the ending drew standing ovation from all around.

Your cast mates had been incredibly supportive once the show was over, reassuring you that the hiccup had only created an incredible effect on the audience. Even the director was impressed, and questioned if it had been intentional. It wasn't. You had simply forgot to breathe at a certain point and caused a ripple in your lungs.

A happy accident.

You withdrew from the conversation as their voices became distant. Their topic switched to something else. You delved into the sidelines, where many groups had broken off into couples. You eyed them all in wonder, trying to figure out features from under their masks that concealed their identities. They, too, watched you in return, yet they did not seem to be judgemental.

They looked as though they were admiring you.

And then you saw him.

Across the room stood Jareth. Surrounding him were more patrons donned in goblin themed masks and luxurious ball gowns and suits. They whispered in his ear, they whispered to each other; they swarmed him like he was a God. Their God.

Your God.

Jareth had been watching you the entire time. And when you finally spotted him, he made his way towards you. There was no chase; no words spoken. He guided you to the main floor, and he whisked you away in a beautifully intimate dance. You blinked in awe at his ethereal beauty, and your breathing almost hitched as his heart beat so close to your own chest.

"How are you enjoying your party?" Jareth leaned in to whisper in your ear. Your fingers curled into his jacket, a smile pulling at your lips at the giddiness that spread throughout your body like a welcoming warmth.

"My party?" You repeated curiously.

"All of this is for you, my precious dear," Jareth explained. "With time running out, I wanted to help sway your mind."

That's right, you hadn't yet fully decided on what to do. Return with Harry, or remain with Jareth.

There was 10 minutes left.

"It's wonderful," you said. Jareth stepped away and twirled you with expertise, then promptly pulled you back into his arms. "You've truly outdone yourself."

Jareth chuckled lightly. "I can do so much more," he assured softly, yet the power in his voice was glaringly obvious. "All you have to do is say the words your heart desires to be spoken."

"And then what?"

"And then you can stay forever."

"Forever," you repeated quietly.

Jareth leaned down and pressed his lips to the knuckles on your hand. You flushed at the gesture, feeling the warmth in your chest grow. It was like he knew he was having this effect on you—and the cheeky smile suggested that he revelled in it. You couldn't deny that you weren't enjoying yourself, nor that you felt intoxicated with the power you held with your decision.

You could openly deny him, or you could accept him. The choice was entirely yours. Jareth wasn't forcing you to choose him, but his eyes were almost pleading. He wanted you to choose him. And deep down, you wanted to choose him too.

"[Name]!"

5 minutes left.

Jareth whisked you away again, his eyes flashing something serious as he hid you away in the crowd of people. You twisted your head to find the owner of the voice, the familiar voice that made your stomach lurch in worry. But Jareth kept Harry out of sight, out of your view so he couldn't sway your own thoughts again. Jareth wanted your focus to be entirely on him.

The music turned rather upbeat, and more patrons swarmed the main floor with an excited eagerness. Their bodies mingled closely together, like a wall that prevented Harry from pushing deeper to find you. You could hear him holler your name, sounding desperate and frantic. You caught sight of his hair before Jareth turned you around again, and your eyes met with his mismatched ones.

"Forever isn't long at all," Jareth whispered. You didn't have to strain to hear him. It was like his voice was already planted inside your mind. Like he was already connected to you. But he, too, sounded desperate for your choice. "Stay with me, my precious dear, my [Name]. Rule by me—serve me... I will give you everything that you desire."

That's exactly what you wanted. All you had to say is the words he wanted to hear, and your wish would come true.

You would be leaving behind your friends and family. You would be leaving behind the life you had worked so hard to create. But did any of that matter anymore?

"Please," you firmly asked, "I wish to—"

A hand grabbed your shoulder and tore you away from the arms of the Goblin King. You gasped and fell back, Harry now in front of you and almost eye-to-eye with Jareth.

"Harry, no!" You shouted, but your words fell on deaf ears as the ballroom started to crumble. The patrons began to morph back into their goblin forms, their harsh sneers and snarls drowning out your begging to be heard.

30 seconds.

"You have no power over us," Harry growled in fury, "for I know what you are. Fae. "

The floor vanished from underneath you. And suddenly you were falling. Plummeting. Downwards at a frighteningly fast pace. You opened your mouth to scream as the darkness engulfed you in its jaws, but no sound came out.

[metacrisisdoctor]

tenrose is ninerose

the amount of ninerose shippers who hate tenrose is really depressing.

i understand having a preference in writing choice or in the actors and their chemistry and which you enjoy more, but to act like they're completely different relationships is so deeply unfair and incorrect.

when i first watched rtd who, what i really admired was how seamless the transition between nine and ten was. it still felt like the same show, the same characters and the same relationship while still allowing rose to grieve the ninth doctor and be confused and hurt with what happened.

i am someone, who if i HAD to choose, would choose tenrose. however, that's ONLY because tenrose is ninerose.

the only reason i feel the way i feel about the tenth doctor and rose is because of the story that they had already built. i don't think rose and ten fell in love, they were obviously already in love and then fell deeper in love as time went on (as it should be, no?) which makes my feelings for them stronger, but i don't see them as different relationships.

everything about tenrose - and ten/tentoo - only makes sense when you take ninerose into consideration. nine met rose immediately after having destroyed gallifrey. he is closed off, in pain, angry and hurt to put it mildly. he meets rose and she shows him softness and good in the universe again. she makes him feel like he isn't all alone. she gives him hope. he takes her to see the end of the world and she doesn't flinch, she stays. together, they can face anything.

as season one progresses we see how the doctor and rose discover each other, how they influence and bring out the best in the other. rose, just by existing and being her, helps the doctor remember who he is. she helps him heal, she makes him - the doctor - better. not a better person, but she makes him feel better.

and like she makes him better, he makes her realize she can take things into her own hands and be bigger and more powerful than she had ever imagined. so when she has to save him, she does whatever is necessary because she loves him as much as he does her.

because of how deep his love for her is he makes the decision to kiss her and save her life knowing it will mean regeneration for him, which is something he obviously did not want, but he accepts it because it was a worthy sacrifice.

nine dies out of his love for rose, and ten is BORN out of his love for rose. ten's entire existance quite literally revolves around rose and his love for her. ten's journey is about hope, because that is what she gave him. and in the end it is both his salvation (tentoo) and his downfall (ten) because since he was born out of loving her and this new family that he found, he is born with the need to be human, to NOT change. as nine he found everything he had been searching for, so as ten he is done searching. this is why he "shuts down" to a degree after school reunion and seeing sarah jane again. he loves all his companions, but rose is different. rose is everything, and he cannot bear the fact that he will lose her someday- but he also knows that he could never truly leave her behind.

this is why the only way to seperate them was with doomsday. all of this deep love and this desire to be with her in ways he never could ("the one adventure i can never have.") started in season ONE with ninerose ("street corner, two in the morning.") and shaped who he became when he regenerated into this version of himself who was everything he was because of her.

this doesn't invalidate ninerose or their relationship, because it's the SAME relationship. i don't have to pit them against each other because they're not seperate in my mind and i know this goes for most tenrose and tentoorose shippers.

in the end ten had to find a way to become human, even if in one life, and when he couldn't in another he had to regenerate because the hope rose gave him was becoming a vice instead of a virtue.

the doctor is always the same person (yes, including tentoo - argue with the wall) but there is no denying that the feelings and experiences that are happening when the doctor regenerates effects how the next incarnation of them feels and behaves. so when ten regenerated "died" because he felt things the way a human would and therefore he was able to move on.

this doesn't mean that rose and everything he felt for her or how she saved him from himself is meaningless. it means, in a way, it's eternal. he knows they get to be happy in another universe, and that gives the doctor the strength to keep going and open their hearts to new adventures with new people who are worth loving as well. she made him see that.

and it all starts with ninerose.

stop acting like they're not the same relationship and you'll understand why tenrose is "more popular" because some of us understand that the doctor is the doctor. period.

[blackkatmagic]

:3c Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

Cher how dare you make me say nice things

Since I already did this once, I'll use different fics this time. So...

1 - efface the footprints in the sands

This fic is one of the ones where I really had a firm idea of where I wanted to go right from the start, and following that all the way through let me really play around with foreshadowing and character arcs in a more concrete way than a lot of my fics. Agen's growth and slow understanding, and the shared theme between him and Anakin that violence isn't a good way to solve things, is one of the arcs I'm most satisfied with having written. (And it's complete, what a miracle asjfskjs.)

2 - on the other side of time

I think the concept of this one is the most fascinating, personally, even though I haven't gotten far enough to explore much of it yet. The idea that a time-travel fix-it that depends super heavily on the understanding of one or two characters isn't actually a fix-it for everyone, and that time, when twisted out of its set path, leaves grooves like a dry riverbed, things that exist even if they're left empty, is such a fascinating idea to me, and exploring that is incredibly fun. Particularly through the eyes of Savage, who was done so fucking dirty in canon.

3 - Time in the hourless houses

Kind of similar to the last one, I love the concept of the Force as something that isn't quite conscious in the way most of humanity thinks of consciousness, but is still alive, and it has a plan even if no one else understands what that plan is. Also, I love prophecies as like...that one quote from The Old Kingdom books: "Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?" It makes for such an interesting exploration of choice. And Xanatos is just a vicious, snarky bastard, which makes him a lot of fun to write.

4 - to the stars/to the day/to the sun

I enjoy weird writing styles, particularly when I'm the one doing them, and writing Maul when he's mildly mad is highly enjoyable. Like, he makes sense to himself, and keeping that thread even when he's sounding mad to everyone else is such an interesting challenge. It's also fun to like....imply the depth to Feemor's story without ever dipping into his POV. It's like writing his motivations into the negative space of Maul's perception of things, and what they aren't saying.

5 - Arcana

This is probably my least popular/least read long fic ever, but I honestly adore it. Dark romance is a thing I read a fair amount of, and I always love a good exploration of villains, and there's a lot that's cathartic about the clones getting to be the agents of their own destiny even when other characters (like Palpatine) least expect it. Also Fox just. deserves to be emperor of his own city-state. I think that's just fact.

[fan-girls-r-us]

My slightly unhinged EdelBert headcanons:

- In private, Edelgard enjoys kissing Hubert; chaste pecks on the cheek, short kisses on the lips, sloppy make out sessions, mildly appropriate “church tongue”, it doesn’t matter. But she likes kissing him after his morning cup of coffee the most out of all of them.

- Hubert is secretly a remarkable poet. He’ll never admit to it, though. Most of what he writes (that he doesn’t burn) are sonnets dedicated to Edelgard.

- Edelgard enjoys snuggling. Hubert is (secretly) happy to oblige.

- Hubert can also sing rather beautifully, he just hates doing it. Prior to the Officer’s Academy, Edelgard was the only one who knew this. She is also the only person who can get him to acquiesce and sing.

- No one can convince me that Edelgard wasn’t hurt by Hubert’s lack of direct acknowledgment regarding her disappearance (revealed in Three Hopes) until they were in their 20s.

- Similarly, Hubert never told Edelgard the story about his ill-fated campaign to bring her home when he was ten— not because it was unimportant, but because he feared it would reveal his true feelings for her. And that scared him more than anything. It’s also likely the reason for his reluctance to discuss the above point as well.

- Should Edelgard and Hubert ever have children, she would absolutely be the “strict mom”, while he would 100 percent be the closet “fun dad”.

- Hubert was likely viciously tormented by his younger siblings for his love/devotion to Edelgard, which he ALSO refused to admit. The most ruthless teasing came from his sister, who just wanted her big brother to be happy.

- Even after they enter a relationship, Edelgard and Hubert argue. It’s not often, but when it happens, it’s bad. During one particular knock-down, drag out fight of theirs over her recklessness in battle, Edelgard screams, “you’re supposed to follow my orders!” To which, Hubert yells back, “My apologies, my lady, I was under the impression that we were equals.” They don’t speak to each other for several days, until Dorothea intervenes and makes them talk out their issues.

- We’re supposed to understand the paired ending cards as “pages from a history book in the distant future”. Given the ambiguity in a lot of the endings, Edelgard and Hubert’s included, it seems as though they should be taken with a grain of salt— as history is only as good as the records you keep… with that in mind, it’s possible that Hubert outlives Edelgard due to the toll of the Agarthan experiments. Upon her death, he burns all paper evidence of their personal lives (come to think of it, probably all evidence of any type) in order to keep their private lives private. So concrete evidence of their existence, which would have been plentiful while they were a part of the government, was wiped out (as per the “fade from history” line in the end card) when they went to live as private citizens— as Hubert was now in full control of the narrative. There was no longer evidence of them admitting their feelings, and it’s not like any of their friends would rat on them, so history was left to speculate based on what was widely known about their public personas; what is stated though, is far from the case. Regardless, Hubert doesn’t live much longer after Edelgard’s passing… and we all unfortunately know why.

- Should Edelgard marry someone else, (*ahem* Byleth *ahem*) Hubert refuses to stand in her way, despite his feelings; he’s just happy that she’s happy. He even walks her down the aisle on her wedding day and stands as her “Man of Honor”, as much as it kills him.

- Hubert prides himself on his attention to detail when it comes to Edelgard; he notices everything about her and her needs, even before her sometimes. Which is why it comes as a shock to him when she tells him that she’s pregnant, because he never would have guessed that as being the reason for her slightly strange behavior as of late. You guys ever see that one scene in BBC’s Sherlock where John asks Sherlock to be his best man, and Sherlock’s brain does the blue screen of death? Well, that’s what happens when Edelgard informs Hubert that they’re going to be parents. XD

[folansstuff]

I'm bored, and you’ve been super kind, so here's a present for ya. I'm gonna try to come up with some genuinely good questions regarding Atticus. Some will be simple, while others will try to dig deeper. Here we go:

1. What is the most important thing in the world to Atticus? His undisputed #1 thing?

2. Would Atticus give this thing up if it meant saving mutantkind?

3. What angers Atticus most?

4. What saddens Atticus most?

5. What is Atticus' biggest flaw?

6. What is one regret he will carry for the rest of his life?

7. What made you follow the official timeline for his story instead of making your own?

8. Who do you think Atticus would be with if Illyana did not exist?

9. Is Atticus a genuinely good person to you? What dark traits does he have deep down, if any?

10. What could potentially turn him to a villain? If anything?

11. If you had to change his powers, what would they be?

12. How much of you has been reflected into this manbear?

And that is all for now! Hope you enjoy.

Thanks for the questions! I appreciate the questions, especially when they're thinkers like these ones. That being said, there are a lot of them so they're gonna go under a read more.

His books. It's Illyana. Of course it is. We are talking Illyana as number one, and then his students and team mates at second.

2. Absolutely not. This has more than once gotten him punched in the face for his stubbornness. His loyalty to Illyana is more than a little bit self-destructive lmao.

3. Atticus is an incredibly laid back dude, but literally any moment when he is forced to interact with Xavier makes him want to rip his hair out. Years of watching the egg-man ruin his friends, students and others lives because he think he knows best drives Atticus up the wall. Also Sinister, he exploded when he found out Sinister was on the Council.

4. SAD! KIDS! As a former traumatized teen and currently mildly traumatized adult, nothing upsets him more than seeing a young person having a rough time. This why he has so many (unofficial) adopted children (consisting of ever single student he has ever had).

5. A combo of stubbornness and, in a smaller sense, cowardice. Atticus has spent most of his adult life avoiding the superhero community, and until Krakoa, he was very committed to never getting involved. This has made him difficult to deal with, especially when he talks to people like the X-Men or Avengers. It also applies to his convictions, cause good luck getting him to budge once he's made a decision.

6. 3 big ones. Not stopping the Avengers from putting the Phoenix into Illyana, Piotr and Emma (he doesn't care enough about Summers or Namor to worry about them.) The other one is not being in Sydney when Australia's Sentinel program killed his mother accidentally. Notably he couldn't actually stop any of this from happening, but he still regrets it. Finally, he regrets leaving his job at Avengers Academy, since the events of Avengers Arena led to the deaths of a bunch of his students. (No wonder he's so protective.)

7. Honestly? It's easier LMAO. Not having to think as hard about the timeline of everything means that I can focus more on character work, which is really my area of expertise. And it's not like I can't mess with canon (the timeline I write in splits off after the 2023 Hellfire Gala) since comic canon is already so bullshit.

8. Uhhhhhhhhhh. I actually don't know? He's kinda crafted to fit well with her so much now that I have a hard time considering it. Maybe Emma? That could be a similar and cute relationship. Same thing with like, Lorna. Maybe there's a cursed timeline where he ends up with Boom-Boom. IDK, Atticus is drawn to people with Issues (and blondes), so that's probably your best bet.

9. Woah, big morality question. The boring answer is yes because I say so. But I think removing myself from that position as his creator, I do think he's a good dude. He definitely has his issues, but ultimately he just wants the best for himself and the people he cares about. If anything dying and coming back fused to a living garden has probably made him even nicer.

10. There's def an alternate universe where he's swayed to Magento's Brotherhood for a while, and I've looked at Beast's descent into villainy as a fun What If? thing. It would have to be if Illyana had died, or he let his more controlling elements take over.

11. Plants or making him a Telepath (of the unwanted voices variety). Honestly every time I write Atti's powers in action it gives me a headache, even though I think they're legitimately cool.

12. Uhhhhhh, some amount. As he developed he's actually gotten pretty far away, but it'd be silly to say nothing about Atti is similar to me. I'm Australian, and am currently in Uni for teaching, so there's the ones that 100% still apply at least. I wish I was as much a bear as Atticus is tho, I'm a little chubby, not quite as cuddly as he is (or hairy.).

[sirowsky]

Driving Mr. Tovar

Chapter 1 - Don't Get Comfortable

Description: We’re introduced to Reader, as you drive out of the city to meet the reclusive billionaire Samuel Rose, hoping to go to work for him at his estate.

Author’s Note: I chose to make reader in her 40’s because I wanted her to have history to bring to the table. This is a slow burn romance but will feature no pregnancies/babies.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Pero x female reader, cursing, slight angst, Pero being mildly threatening. Word count: 3231 (335 words added) Masterlist (this story) Author’s Masterlist

   You were never late. That was a fact of your existence. You always started too early, just in case, and your mind was always ten steps ahead, to make sure you didn’t miss anything.    This morning, you’d gotten up at 4 am, to have time to do your yoga, go for your run, have breakfast, shower and get ready, and manage the hour-long drive from your apartment to the estate, all before 7 am.

   In truth, you hated getting up early, and you absolutely despised morning workouts. It took time for your body to wake up properly, which made it feel a bit like trying to run whilst drunk. Nothing responded the way it was supposed to, and that put you off balance and made your body feel heavy and sluggish.    You’d started the pre-run yoga routine in order to make sure your body was at least moderately awake by the time your feet hit the pavement, and it did help, but you really didn’t enjoy it.

   So, why go through all that trouble?    Because you thrived on discipline and descended into complete disarray without it. You might have hated it, but you needed it to stay sane. And quite possibly, alive.

   You’d spent many long years making your way through the workweeks on caffeine and little else, and over time, it had worn you down to the point where your health had become an issue at just 40 years old.    Your doctor had urged you to make some changes to your life, starting with your job, to get your internal stress under control, and he was also the one who had suggested you force your body into new routines.

   You’d always been good at taking orders, as well as organizing and planning (as long as it wasn’t for yourself), so when he’d made it clear that if you wanted to live past 60, his admonishments shouldn’t be considered suggestions, you’d obeyed.    You’d been a personal assistant to the owner of a bank for the better part of a decade, and she’d come to rely on you to keep her life outside of work on track. So much so, that her teenage children had been heartbroken to find out that you’d quit.    You’d practically raised them.

   But you did want to live to see retirement one day, and you’d begun to search for other jobs, trying to find something you might be good at that wouldn’t require you to keep another person’s entire life under minute control, whilst burying and disregarding your own.    And that was how you’d ended up driving to an interview at the crack of dawn, in the middle of nowhere.

   The application had been for a live-in driver but didn’t specify any more than that.    But it was way out in the country, a lone estate on a huge property owned by a tech-genius, and you were a good driver, even if you’d never contemplated doing it for a living before.

   You arrived at the huge, locked gates, nestled into the twenty-foot-high stonewalls that surrounded the main property, fifteen minutes early, and you were about to park the car a bit to the side while you waited for your appointed time. But just moments after you got there, the gates begun to swing open.    No one was there to ask for ID or check your car for anything dangerous, you were just silently invited to enter.

   This made you wonder two things: firstly, what piece of advanced technology had already determined your identification, and where was it? And second, what type of weaponry was being aimed at you, right now?

   You drove inside, and the massive iron gates closed behind you, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit like a mouse in a trap. But then, that was probably the point.    A sharply dressed man was standing by the foot of the front steps to the main house, directing you to park right in front of him, before opening the door for you as soon as you came to a stop.

   “Good morning, miss,” he greeted politely.

   He was probably in his mid-fifties, tall and just a bit plump, with an air about him that suggested he was at least somewhat trained as a butler, although he seemed more like someone that had been groomed by life, than school.

   “Good morning, sir,” you answered. “I’m a bit early.”

   “That’s fine. Mr. Rose appreciates the respectfulness and consideration for his time. He’s having breakfast at the moment, but he won’t mind starting the meeting early.    I’ll show you to him. My name is Coulson.”

   You gave him your name in return and thanked him as he led you up the stairs and held the front door for you.    The main house was… huge. Some twenty rooms, you guessed. And while the outside design of it gave the impression that it was old but perfectly reconditioned, you knew that Mr. Rose had had the place built just ten years earlier, and the inside of it clearly reflected that.

   The entry-hall was massive, with a large black granite staircase winding its way up to the second floor, taking up most of the rear half of the hall. And the placement of the rooms, the size and shape of them, all indicated that a modern designer had been involved with the architecture. It was efficiently designed and tailored to fit the needs of its owner. And most of the materials were modern and sustainable.    It was beautiful.

   Coulson led you through the left side of the house, past what appeared to be a smaller ballroom, and then a dining room that connected to the kitchen, in which Mr. Rose was indeed sitting, having breakfast and reading a newspaper.    He was younger than you, mid-thirties, and average built but with an impeccable posture to help him carry the tailored suit he wore. His skin was almond colored, and his black hair was cropped short, simple and efficient, and the only jewelry he wore was a watch of a brand you didn’t recognize.

   “Your seven-o-clock appointment, sir,” the butler announced while gesturing for you to approach.

   “Thank you, Coulson,” Mr. Rose replied to him.

   The butler just nodded and left, the same way you’d come in, and Mr. Rose gestured to a chair opposite him at his small breakfast-table.

   “Welcome. How was the drive from the city?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested even in such a bland subject.

   “It was good, thank you,” you answered, before trying to find a more rewarding reply. “I had plenty of time to go over just how many ways to screw up an interview, so if I still do, I’ll really have to kick myself.”

   He chuckled a little and folded the newspaper away.

   “I’m sure you have some questions. Feel free to ask them.”

   “Um, well… When your assistant called me to set the meeting, I kind of expected to get some more information on what the job really is, but she said that I’d have to ask you about that.”

   “First off, I don’t have an assistant, the woman you spoke to is my housekeeper, Laura. You’ll meet her later,” he explained, making you wonder why he would introduce you to the staff before even hiring you.

   “Secondly, the application was quite vague,” he carried on, “but that was intentional. I didn’t want to narrow the applicants too much.    I’ve learned that merits on paper do very little to tell you which person is going to fit any given position, so I like to keep the options open.    Also, this job is going to be… challenging. I doubt that any previous merits would do anyone much good with this, although I suppose it doesn’t hurt to have some experience with assisting… shall we say demanding individuals.”

   “That’s pretty much all I’ve ever done,” you conceded. “But I get the feeling we’re not talking about you, here?”

   “No. But before we get to that, I’d like to talk a little more about you," he redirected, and you were instantly self-conscious. "From your records, I can see that you’ve been a very diligent worker your entire adult life. There’s nothing but praise for you from your previous employers. In fact, most of them cited you as being irreplaceable.    So, why the sudden change?”

   “Because it turns out that I’ve been a little too diligent. Sacrificing not just my personal time and social life to my jobs, but my health as well,” you explained. “I need a change of pace and if it comes with a change of scenery too, that’s probably just for the better.”

   “I see,” he said after a brief pause. “What about family?”

   “I have a sister, but we’re not close, we never really have been.”

   He stayed quiet and just studied you for a few beats, before he spoke again.

   “Okay, any other questions?” he asked, making you mentally start preparing for the end of this conversation, since that was what it sounded like you were heading for, and no three-minute interview had ever landed you a job before.

   “Just about the security of this place,” you shrugged, “but I doubt you’d wanna share that with me until you’ve decided if I’m hired or not.”

   “Oh, you are,” he said without pause, as if it was completely obvious. “Assuming you’ll still want the job once you’ve learned what it really is.”

   You stared dumbly at him, feeling quite confused, since you’d just dismissed your own chances completely.

   “I-I am…?”

   “That surprises you?” he asked, looking somewhat bemused.

   “Well, yeah. I mean, I assumed you’d have other applicants, other interviews to do before you made up your mind. Holy shit…” you breathed, truly staggered at this turn of events, while the billionaire across from you merely smiled softly and shook his head slowly a couple of times.

   “It’s rare that I like a person on paper. Even rarer that I continue to like them after thoroughly researching them, and downright unique that my interest in them only grows as I meet them.    You weren’t the only applicant, but you are the only one being interviewed,” he explained calmly.

   “Oh,” you said, genuinely struggling to find any actual words to offer in return. “Sorry, I don’t know how to respond to that.”

   “That’s okay,” he said with a small chuckle. “And about the security, there’s plenty of it, but it’s specifically designed not to be easily detectable, so you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t share the details of it.    But, sufficed to say, I knew exactly what time you’d be arriving.”

   “I assumed so. And I also assume I was allowed onto the premises without any obvious screening, because there are security measures in place that wouldn’t have allowed me to escape, had I come here with malicious intent?” you shared your observations, and that earned you a fuller smile from him.

   “Exactly right. You’re gonna fit right in here, if you chose to stay.”

   “You don’t seem very confident that I’ll want to…” you prodded, and his smile went from mildly impressed, to a bit annoyed.

   Affectionate, but annoyed.

   “Yes, well I suppose I can’t put it off much longer,” he sighed. “Come with me, and I’ll show you.”

   He got up and led you back to the front entrance, and outside where he walked along the right side of the house, around the corner and onto a gravel path that led to a smaller side-building, nestled in between four big old oak-trees.    It was small compared to the main building, but it was still a full-sized house. One floor, probably four or five rooms, plus the kitchen, and a big porch at the back.

   Mr. Rose knocked on the door, and a muffled male voice called for him to enter. He nodded at you to follow him inside, and then started chatting as he walked into the kitchen.

   “Morning, Tov. How’s your hand?”

   You stepped into the hall, and just a few feet in, the living room opened up to your left, while the kitchen was a little further in, to the right, past the coat-hangers and closets in the hall.    You stopped to admire the beautifully furnished living room, with a big fireplace taking center stage, while the tv was surpassed to the right wall.    There were positively packed bookcases as well as glass cabinets filled with movies and LP-records, on every wall of the room, and the sofa and the two pulpy-looking armchairs just screamed leisurely comfort.

   “Fine. Don’t tell me you came down so early to check on a few cuts, jefe.”

   The grumpy, deep voice, with a thick Spanish accent, snapped you out of your reverie, and you quickly followed the sound over to the kitchen.    You came into view behind Mr. Rose just as the unknown man turned from the kitchen counter, grasping a coffee-mug and bringing it to his mouth.

   “No, I came to introduce you to your driver,” Mr. Rose declared.

   The mug froze a few inches from the man’s lips as he saw you, and when he heard his boss declare who you were, his arm dropped all the way down to his waist, and a downright scary looking scowl came over his scarred face.

   “Hijo de puta…” the man spat between tight jaws.

   “Tov, we talked about this.”

   “And I told you: I don’t need help,” the man snapped, getting angrier by the second, but Mr. Rose took it in stride.

   “Since you refuse to get a driver’s license, you need a driver, you know that. I can’t keep sparing people from other positions to help you run errands.”

   “Errands? I do not run errands, I do what must be done.”

   “As do I,” Mr. Rose returned, and there was suddenly an authority to his voice that made the other man hold his tongue. “This is not a debate, Tov. I’m your boss and I’m telling you – this woman is your driver from now on.”

   He gave the grumpy man your name, at which point he turned away from you, as though he could make you disappear if he just couldn’t see you.    Mr. Rose seemed to stifle an eyeroll as he angled himself more towards you.

   “I apologize for this man’s less than polite behavior, but if it’s of any comfort to you, he treats everyone like this.    His name is Pero Tovar, and he’s what you might call the manager of this estate. His primary function is to take care of my horses, but he seems to just generally know everything that goes on here, from who the gardener’s dating, to which one of the housekeeper’s granddaughters just took up ballet.”

   Mr. Tovar was busying himself with needlessly rearranging and fiddling with the things on his counter, anything to not have to turn around and acknowledge your presence.

   “I have eyes and ears. This is all it takes,” he grumbled, but his employer just huffed at him.

   “Honestly, I haven’t ruled out the possibility that he’s some form of sorcerer. But he’s also a skilled fighter, and his attitude of just not giving a shit if people like him, makes him good at weeding out bullshit. Which is just one of the reasons why I like to bring him along as my personal security from time to time.    Now, since he doesn’t trust anyone else to tend to the horses, he’s in charge of making sure they have everything they need, which means weekly trips into town to restock on their feeds, treats and anything else he feels that they are lacking.    And since he meddles in all other aspects of this estate as well, he usually ends up running errands for Coulson, the gardener, the cook and the housekeeper too.”

   Mr. Tovar still had his back to you, and he grumbled something you couldn’t interpret, but Mr. Rose just ignored him and kept going.

   “The problem is that he keeps borrowing people from my security team in order to run said errands, which was fine a year ago when I didn’t have that much need for them, but my circumstances have gotten more delicate, and I need them where they are.    Obviously, that’s where you come in. And just so we’re clear: Tov is one of very few people I trust, and that makes him invaluable to me.    So, in addition to driving him anywhere he wants to go, I’m expecting you to look after him, however much he protests, since he’s hopeless at taking care of himself.    I have a room ready for you here, and I’d prefer it if you lived here while you work for me, even if it does mean sharing house with a brute.”

   Right. Okay. This was so not what you’d expected.    But, despite his gruffness, the Spaniard had something appealing about him. He was scarred and troubled, and inherently distrustful, as well as surprisingly easily offended for someone who was obviously held in the very highest regard by his employer.    Still, he clearly took great pride in his work, and that was something that you understood, and respected.    You squared your shoulders.

   “Thank you for your trust, Mr. Rose. I won’t let you down.”

   He seemed relieved that you didn’t just turn around and run away, making you wonder if there had been others that had.    He thanked you in return, and told you to take the day to get familiar with everything, before he said something in Spanish to his friend, and then excused himself to get started on his workday.    Allowing you and the brute a chance to hash it out.

   “Just to be clear, Mr. Tovar; I won’t expect or ask you to like me, only that you respect that I have a strong work-ethic, just like you.    I like to earn my keep, and I’m not afraid of hard work.”

   He scoffed as he finally turned back towards you, to thoroughly look you over, head to toe and back again.

   “A woman as soft as you, has not known hard work.”

   “How would you know how soft I am?” you challenged.

   “Your hands,” he replied with a sneer. “They are smooth, not used to toiling, no dirt under your nails. You are soft. No probado.”

   Oh, was that how it was gonna be? Fine. You could play this game too.

   “I might not have any battle-scars that you can see, but there’s more than one way to know hardship.    You know nothing more about me than I do about you, so how about we get the pissing contest over with: Since you’re the only dick present, you’re automatically the biggest one.    I am in no conceivable way any threat to you, so just let me work, okay?”

   He just glared at you, still with something conniving in the depths of his eyes.

   “Would you at least show me which room is mine, so I don’t wander into yours uninvited?” you asked with a mildly exasperated sigh.

   He finally sipped his coffee, then pushed off the kitchen counter and headed off towards the bedrooms.    He led you to the last room in the hall, and then just leaned against the doorframe while you walked inside and looked around. It was almost bigger than your whole apartment.

   “Don’t get comfortable, blando. You won’t be staying.”

>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<

Link to Chapter 2

Thank you for reading, and if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging. I would dearly appreciate it <3

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[leogichidaa]

Tbh I always headcanoned that Regulus was seen as the “thinner, less handsome” version of Sirius was because of both actual health issues and a more reserved/inward personality. I guess in my head I always saw that he had some health issues as a kid, but they would have been things that were fixed with time. And that Walburga didn’t understand that just because Sirius was an energetic prodigy in every sense of the word, doesn’t mean that his brother would be the same, and that’s ok!

Ergo, if Reg survived and was able to grow on his own terms and get healthier, more filled out, AND relaxed a bit while reforming his moral compass, the only difference physically between him and Sirius would be that he has a slimmer build and is a little shorter. Other than that the resemblance would be uncanny, he’d look like a reserved Sirius ( instead of idk reserved and dour 🧐)

Tbh I always saw a fully grown Regulus as tall as an average tall guy (like 6 feet even). Sirius just sets unrealistic expectations by existing 😂.

Oh geez, sorry it's taken almost a month to respond to this 😖 I must have missed it when I was going through my notifications after getting out of the hospital and I just saw it.

I like the hc of Regulus having health issues as a kid. I think sickly Victorian-esque child suits him. Making him a second-born child prone to illness also happens to slot him very nicely into Adlerian psychoanalytic theory (Alfred Adler, known among other things for his creation of the "inferiority complex" concept and theories about the impact of birth order on one's personality, was himself was a sickly child and a second born son who was intensely jealous of his older brother) and there's little I love more than psychoanalyzing my beloved fictional characters to death.

I can definitely see Walburga not understanding Regulus' temperament at all. She seems to have been quite an energetic woman and, as you said, Sirius set the bar and he set it abnormally high. This is why I am partial to the idea that Orion is more mild-mannered (by no means actually mild, but comparatively) and that there's some sort of kinship between Regulus and his father, neither of whom enjoy the loud, dramatic displays that Sirius and Walburga seem to relish in.

Ok so, based on your theory about Regulus surviving, I am imagining an AU where Regulus survives and fucks off somewhere lovely and warm and spends a decade and change relaxing and enjoying his new life away from any familial responsibilities or reminders of his past. He grows into a healthy adult, and is mildly dismayed that he is the spitting image of his brother. One day in the middle of the summer, he starts getting funny looks from people and has to evade the muggle police a handful of times because his face is plastered all over the news as a wanted criminal. Of course it's not his face, it's Sirius', but they look similar enough that it forces him to go even further into hiding.

Adult Regulus can be tall, he can be 6' if he likes, as long as his growth spurt is a year or two delayed, not until late adolescence. I'm partial to him being average/slightly below average height as a child/early adolescent.

I suppose, canonically, that would mean that he'd finally grow to his full height only to die shortly after. Live fast, die young, leave a tall corpse or something.

[rivenroad]

10 years ago today.

Despite playing the beta and loving it, I actually didn't buy A Realm Reborn on release for a few reasons - I was just about to start my third and final year at art school, didn't have much money and my laptop at the time struggled with the game, plus I knew about the server issues going on at launch so I didn't feel too bad for missing it. I owned a PS3, but I'd heard what everyone said about it being inferior to playing on PC, so I was hesitant, but a couple of weeks later I bought it for PS3 anyway because I really wanted it. I feel like that was perhaps the first time that FFXIV helped me to cast off the influences of others and make my own decisions.

The first character I made in the game proper was a Duskwight arcanist. He doesn't exist any more, but I found screenshots of him the other week when I dug out my PS3. Back then, I was excited by the amount of options in character customisation because I hadn't played an MMO before with the level of variety that XIV had. I played around with a whole lot of different characters, most of them being on the extreme ends of things - unnatural blue and green skintones, tiny Lalafells, huge Roegadyn women who towered over everyone else. I really liked that those were options for the protagonist of a game because I hadn't played many other games where they could take a leading role. The first character I took to level 50 and spent the most time on, to start with, was one of those, but it took me much longer to realise that I was playing a character who I wanted to exist in the world, but not one that I actually connected with on a personal level.

Early on I also messed around with male Miqo'te and Midlanders, and I made a couple I really liked, but I was reluctant to actually commit to them and I think it was because I felt like I "shouldn't" - because it was predictable to be an anime catboy or a plain old human man, it was boring, those things had been done before. In a game that allowed you to be some combination of traits that was hardly ever seen in a protagonist role, why would you pick something that was basically... a trope? That's kind of how I felt, or rather, had been made to feel. I was mildly embarrassed that I wanted to be a catboy, so I resisted it for a while.

Eventually, though, I did take the plunge to make one and level him alongside a friend who had picked up the game a few months later.

That was Ayin'a. That was really where things began to change for me. I was finally playing a character who I really felt a connection with, who I felt actually represented some part of me rather than ones who I absolutely loved being part of the world, but just weren't really "me". I started to write, to roleplay, to create, to form connections with people with him as my avatar. I was enjoying myself and I was inspired in a way I hadn't really felt... probably since I was a child, because I was doing things from the heart, rather than trying to follow an idea of what I thought I should be doing.

A lot has happened since then and it's way too much to go into here, but this for me was a huge turning point that provided me with inspiration and passion to hold on to in some very, very bleak times in my life. And from there, more came - with a better understanding of what I found interesting, what I liked in a character, what I was interested in exploring and writing... My identity began to solidify thanks to this process. After a long, long long and dreadful slump I started to make art again because of FFXIV. And now, I'm fortunate enough to be in a position where I can call making art my career, where I can look forward to what the future may hold for me as an artist, because of the experiences I've had with this game.

Incidentally, Ayin'a himself is now retired as of Endwalker, both in and out of character. For as much as he means to me, he was never intended to be "the" Warrior of Light, and as soon as I was able to make a character who suited that role (it only took 6+ years...), I started winding down his role as my "main" in a gameplay sense, because at last I had character who belonged in those MSQ cutscenes rather than having to feel mild uncomfortable as I watched them feature a character who would absolutely not be in that role.

Plus, when it comes to his own story, he's had enough too - he made a bunch of money, got married, settled down in his beachside house with a bunch of odd pets and his husband to be a reclusive and grumpy yet altruistic neighbour. He's still around, and always will be, both in FFXIV and in other worlds I choose to transport him too, but for now that chapter is over. I'll always have a soft spot for him and how he was the start of my journey to understand myself and find my place in the world, just as I'll always be grateful for all the many, many ways in which FFXIV changed the course of my life.

I'm looking forward to the next ten years, and there were times in the not so distant past when I had no hope that I'd ever say such a thing truthfully.