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#hes been with anyone that would make him want to change
seresinhangmanjake · 2 days
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Could I request Feyd and reader’s wedding from “his”? Or maybe how her life changes once she’s his wife and not his mistress? I lovelovelove all the prequels, but I’m so interested to see their future together!
Forever His
Feyd-Rautha x concubine!reader
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Notes/Warnings: barely smut. discussions of babies. thank you for the request and for reading <3
Words: 1350
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List
You’re his now. Completely. Entirely. 
Before, anyone could have attempted to touch you, talk to you, insult you—though unwise—and no one but Feyd would have blinked an eye. Neither would they have assumed that such disrespectful behavior toward you would result in their death. A concubine is meant to be touched, spoken to however one pleases, insulted if it’s what a man needs to relieve the stress and frustration from his body. With the exception of Leto Atredies, Feyd’s the only Lord you’ve heard of who has ever given a fuck about the concubine they keep while simultaneously demanding respect for them. And on his part to ensure that, Feyd put secret rules in place when it came to you that men did not often follow. 
Being so heartless by nature, no one would expect a Harkonnen to care about anyone other than themselves—it’s risky to hint that the cold-blooded are capable of running a little warmer than rumor suggests—and for Feyd to lay out his care for you to the masses would have undoubtedly led to your death, whether by the hands of enemies or the Baron himself. But that didn’t stop Feyd from enforcing his rules and the repercussions for breaking them.
Those rules led to the deaths of many, most dramatically of his brother and a Caladanian diplomat, and it’s a wonder Feyd was able to talk himself out of the responsibility for their lives when the Baron called for an explanation. But he did. Feyd kept you alive, untouched by others, unbothered by others, respected by others because you were always his. His, at first labeled so in one way, and now, labeled so in another—as a wife. 
His wife. A Lady once more—not of your home planet, but of Giedi Prime—and though your renewed status may not change the way a Harkonnen man needs to present himself to the universe, Feyd can now be who he wants to be without the Baron lifting an eyebrow. He doesn’t have to pretend not to care for you as deeply as he does, and neither do you have to fear the choices he was making for your sake. 
From the moment Feyd kissed you in front of those who declared the validity of Geidi Prime marriages, your worries were instructed to fall in line with the duties of a wife. But with Feyd—for Feyd—it’s easy. Be his woman; stand by his side; and bear him an heir. And those things, you can do. 
His fingers are digging into your hips, helping guide your movements as you grind and shift your hips. He never let you on top before, and he never answered you when you asked why, but you knew it was his method of protection. A psychological need that extended to the physicalities of sex. He had to be the looming one, the consuming one, the one who shielded the other from dangers that were not present in the confines of your room. But that changed as your title changed. You’re allowed to be freer now—uninhibited—and Feyd has been willing to teach you how.
His back teeth clench, jaw sharpening with his final grunt of pleasure. With his hand on your neck, he pulls you down, lips claiming yours as he spills inside of you for the third time in the night. 
Your chest rises and falls in sync with his as you come down from the high, and then he rolls you onto your back, remaining inside of you to keep his seed from leaving your body. “Do you think it worked this time?” you ask as you regain even breaths. 
“Doesn’t matter,” he says as he tries to do the same. “We aren’t going to stop until you’re pregnant with my heir. We aren’t going to stop even once you are.”
Your chuckle is cut short by another press of his lips. Then, there is a press on your jaw. Then another on your neck. Then that kiss turns into little bites that are sure to leave marks. It feels too good to stop him, though you probably should. One of the things that works against you as a wife that did not as a concubine is the marks he makes on your body that cannot be covered by clothing. Nibbles, scratches, bruises—all acceptable on the skin of a concubine. Not as much on the skin of a bride. But it’s a propriety that Feyd could not care less for. 
“Feyd…” The vibration from his hum tickles your throat. “I’ll get stares.” Glares, more like. 
He pulls back with a quirked brow. “Ladies from other Houses eye the marks I give you and suddenly you’re bothered? What for?” He hums again, low, deep. His voice matches. “They’re jealous their Lords don’t fuck them like I fuck you.”
You snicker. “Maybe.”
Not maybe, definitely. However, you know it extends past the attention those women do not receive from their men. The fact that you were a concubine at all raises their hackles. While the Emporer and Lords have their meetings, the Ladies sit aside, offering words when requested but otherwise remaining silent, and in that silence, they have much time to think and scrutinize and judge. 
They don’t care that you were a Lady of your own planet before Feyd; they care what Feyd made you and then remade you when he decided he loved you. And now, you remind them too much of their own circumstances: a wife competing with a concubine. Except you were the concubine and then the wife while they are the wives shadowed by concubine counterparts. You’re an image of what they will never have and what their husbands wish they could have with the women they’d prefer. 
“They’re never going to like you,” Feyd interrupts your thoughts when he sees you’re lost.
“I don’t need them to like me,” you tell him. You prefer the company of the other concubines anyway—those brought alongside the wives for their Lords. Despite the complexities of your past, you connect with them better. “But either way, you need to be more considerate.”
“No,” he counters, “I need to fuck and touch and kiss my new wife however I want, and she needs to condemn anyone who gives her trouble for it.” You mock a gasp of offense. “You expect me to hold myself back with you? You want me to restrain myself when I’m trying to put a baby inside of you?”
“You make it sound silly.”
“It is,” he says. “I don’t whine about the marks you make on me.”
“Because Lords marvel at badges of honor,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. 
Feyd’s chuckle is your favorite sound. You rarely heard it before your wedding—he was always too stressed over you, concerned about your well-being—but you became addicted the moment it hit your ears. 
You wince at the discomfort of him finally pulling out, and your body instinctively follows as if to keep him where he was. When he falls onto his back, he tucks you into his side. 
“What do you think it’ll be?” he suddenly asks you.
You’re momentarily thrown off until you realize where his mind has shifted. Snuggling against him, you say, “I don’t care. As long as it’s healthy.”
“It will be,” he says.
“And as long as we can keep it safe,” you add.
Feyd swallows. You know there’s a part of him that is aware the life you have is not the life you were meant to have; that this life is a product of your lack of safeguarding; that you were taken as a prize; that he took you. And no matter the joy you’ve expressed or your previous unwillingness to consider leaving him—not that he ever entertained returning you—trying to have a child has made it impossible for him to forget how you met. He struggles. Something in you appreciates that about him. It means you helped to change him for the better. It means when he becomes a father, he will approach it differently than his own parents once did. 
“We can,” he promises you. “And we will.”
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mischievousmoony · 2 days
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Omg I love ur James fics. You think you could do one where reader finally feels comfortable getting drunk while going out with their group because she knows James is there to take care of her. Ur drunk reader x James interactions are too cute. I feel like I always have a hard time letting go cause I’m afraid I’ll need to take care of my other friends haha. Love your work!
thank u love! i have fun writing them, i just know james would be so caring! ps thank you for being patient ik this request came in a while ago
𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍
⟢ james potter x fem!reader ⊹ 1.0k ⟢ warnings/tags: intoxication (i think that’s it but lmk if i missed any pls)
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
"But what if Sirius tries to get a new tattoo again?" you ask, twisting back and forth with a steady squeak, squeak, squeak of your barstool.
James clasps his hand on your shoulder, turning you one last time to face him. "Remus is watching him."
"What if Marlene tries to go on another one of her adventures?"
Marlene has a knack for getting herself into precarious situations when she gets drunk, which she likes to call her “little adventures.” Usually, this means going home with a stranger, whether it’s for a hookup or to steal their lightbulbs because they looked at her wrong.
"Lily’s got her.”
"What if I do something stupid?" you ask, now swinging your legs. The nerves eating away at you just won’t let you sit still.
James puts his other hand on your knee, soothing you with a gentle squeeze. "I'm watching you," he says. After thinking it over for a moment, he adds, “And I don't think you'll do anything stupid. Even if you do, I'll do something more stupid so that nobody notices."
This earns him a giggle from you, and he’s happy to see you smiling. He picks up your glass, which is now covered in beads of water, plenty of time having passed for condensation to run its course. He dries what he can with a napkin because he knows you hate when the droplets land in your lap.
You once asked him why it happened, even though you knew the answer. He simply told you it was science.
“Science is stupid,” you had said, eyes fixating on several small spots of water soaking into your jeans.
Now, James wraps your glasses with napkins. He holds out your drink, a black napkin enveloped around it, as he asks, “You want to do this, right?”
You peek into the glass and watch the dwindling ice cubes swirl around in a vodka cran; a drink that James had called “beginner friendly.”
“Yeah,” you answer shyly.
James frowns. “It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind.”
You chew your bottom lip, thinking it over. A part of you wants to forget it, but another part of you knows you’d be disappointed in yourself for chickening out again.
You wrap your hand around the glass, cringing at the squish of the soggy napkin beneath your fingertips. You don’t know what’s worse: this feeling or the water dripping all over you. But James’ attempts to help make you feel warm inside, so you don’t complain.
“No, I still want to do this.”
“Then I’m here for you. Promise.” James gives your knee another squeeze.
You cast a look toward your friends. For years, you've nominated yourself as the designated driver. Or you've claimed to have early morning obligations. You've always felt better knowing someone sober was around to deliver plenty of water and carb-rich snacks to your incapacitated friends.
That was your excuse, anyway. Not that it isn't one of your concerns, but truthfully, something about drinking makes you feel uneasy. You always knew your friends were safe because you've been there, ready to hold back anyone's hair or stray them away from bad decisions. If you drank too, how could you be sure your friends would have someone to depend on? How could you be sure you would have someone to depend on?
Then, you started dating James, and you found a level of trust you never knew was possible. You know you can depend on him for anything.
When you admitted to him why you never drink when you go out, he swore up and down that he would be there for you.
Remembering his promise summons a wave of courage. You shoot James a nervous smile, and take your first sip, scrunching your nose as it burns your tongue.
"This is kind of gross."
James barks a laugh, "We can try to find something you'd like better next round. That is, if you decide to have another."
Feeling brave, you do have another. That's when you discovered something called the Cosmic Lemon Fizz; a drink that sparkles with edible glitter and manages to be blue, green, and yellow all at once. You laughed when you saw it, not knowing how in for it you were.
"Jamie!" you exclaim after taking a sip of your third Cosmic Lemon Fizz. "This tastes like happy feels!" you gasp as if the thought had just occurred to you, despite this being the fourth time you tell him.
"I bet it does!" James cheers. His eyes wrinkle in the corners as he beams at you.
"You should try one!" you declare, and immediately try to flag over the bartender.
James smoothly takes your hand, stopping you as he says, "No can do. Made a promise to a pretty girl that I wouldn't have a drop tonight."
You whip your head around. "Who!?" you ask, eyes wide.
"Who do you think, pretty girl," he says, poking you in the side.
Giggles escape you and you swat his hand away. He doesn't go far, lifting his arm to brush some stray hairs out of your face. His hand lingers on the side of your face, soothing the pad of his thumb against your cheek.
You lean into his touch, gazing up at him with an affectionate glaze in your eyes; a look that gives him butterflies.
"Wowww," you say dreamily. "You're handsome."
James feels his heart flip in his chest. "Thank you, love," he says, a soft smile playing at his lips.
"Hey," Sirius says, appearing out of nowhere as he lazily throws an arm over your shoulders, "How's it going over here?"
While you're distracted with Sirius, James waves over the bartender and replaces your drink with water. The next time you reach for your glass, you hesitate.
"Where's my cosmo magic fizzy thingy?" you ask, an eyebrow raised as you glance at James.
"You must've finished it," he shrugs, acting clueless.
"That's like the oldest trick in the book. You replaced it with water and now you're trying to be sneaky!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," James feigns innocence.
You giggle, bringing the straw to your lips. "I knew you'd take care of me. I love you," you say, happily sipping your water.
James feels another eye-wrinkling smile break out on his face. "I love you too, pretty girl."
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
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itneverendshere · 21 hours
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pogue reader getting sick but she can’t call out, but rafes fr mad at you about it
don't want less, don't want more - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
changed it a bit just bc i want to show reader's progress regarding her hyper-independence, they're already dating and past the "i love you" phase, i felt like some progress had to be made by this point, especially bc this is after their big fight in this. hope you enjoy <3
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The floor beneath you feels like it's tilting, moving under your feet like a boat rocking on rough water. You blink a couple of times, hoping that’ll shake the haze taking over your vision, but it doesn’t do much. 
The bar lights over your head are too bright, and the music thumping from the speakers makes your head feel like it’s trapped in a vice. The clink of glass, every laugh, every order shouted at you feels like a hammer driving nails straight into your skull.
You swallow hard, trying not to gag. Your throat’s raw, and your chest feels tight, but you’re powering through it because you don’t have much of a choice. Not a choice at all.
"Whiskey sour, extra sour!" some country club douchebag yells from the other side of the bar.
His voice is like nails on a chalkboard. You force a smile and nod, reaching for the bottle, but your hands are shaky. You catch yourself on the edge of the bar before you can drop it.
This morning, you could barely get out of bed. Fever burning through you like you were standing too close to a bonfire, throat too sore to talk, and your head pounding so hard you thought you were going to pass out just brushing your teeth. 
You tried calling in. Tried. Told your manager, Greg, that you were sick as hell, couldn’t make it, but the guy just grunted like he always does. "Can’t afford anyone calling out today," he said. Like the world was going to end if you didn’t show up to sling drinks for a bunch of rich assholes.
So here you are.
You rub the back of your neck, trying to loosen up some of the tension building there, but it doesn’t help. Nothing really does at this point.
"Hey!" The guy who ordered the whiskey sour snaps his fingers in your face. "You deaf or something? Whiskey. Sour."
"Got it," You mutter, trying not to let your voice crack as you finally pour his drink. 
Your vision swims a little as you set it down in front of him, and for a second, you think you might actually faint right here at the bar.
That’d be something. Faceplant into a bunch of overpriced cocktails in front of half of the Kooks on this island. Greg would probably just step over you and ask you to get back to work.
You lean against the bar for a second. Your stomach rolls, threatening to revolt, but you choke it back. You can’t afford to be sick here. Not when you’re already in trouble with your manager for barely making it on time. You think back to the half-assed breakfast you tried to eat—if you can call a slice of toast breakfast—and how your stomach rejected it like poison.
Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Rafe coming in. And suddenly, you’re even more aware of how wrecked you are.
You know he still struggles with how independent you are sometimes. You’ve always been the kind of girl who handles things on her own, and Rafe has this tendency to think that means you don’t need him.
Today, though? You need him more than ever, but you couldn’t bring yourself to call for help.
You immediately know it’s gonna be a thing.
His eyes lock onto you from across the bar, and even through the fog in your head, you can see that look on his face. He’s pissed. Of course, he’s pissed. His jaw’s clenched like he’s biting back whatever rant he’s about to drop on you, and you can already feel the tension creeping up your neck.
Great, as if you didn’t feel bad enough already.
You try to stand a little straighter, look a little less like you're one second from collapsing, but your legs are jelly, and the room’s still spinning like you’re on some messed-up carnival ride.
You don’t want him to see how bad you’re hurting right now. But today? You’re too out of it to even try and explain.
He strides up to the bar, looking sharp, as usual. Meanwhile, you probably look like death warmed over. His eyes are scanning you, taking in the pale face, the way you’re gripping the edge of the bar like you’re about to keel over. You see his lips tighten, and yeah, he’s definitely about to lay into you.
“You didn’t call,” he says, voice low but definitely annoyed. He leans in, trying to keep this between just the two of you, but with how loud the bar is, it still feels like a confrontation.
“I’m fine,” you lie, forcing a smile that probably looks more like a grimace. 
Rafe’s eyes narrow. He’s not buying it. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Why didn’t you call me?”
You hate that you feel guilty.
“Because I’m handling it,” you say, voice softer now. But even you can hear how weak you sound.
It’s not convincing. Hell, you’re not even convinced.
He crosses his arms, looking down at you like you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. “Handling it? Baby, you can barely stand.”
You let out a sigh, trying not to let it turn into a cough.
"I’m fine," you repeat, but even you know it sounds pathetic at this point. Your head feels like it's full of cotton, you’re not sure if you’ll make it through the next few minutes, let alone your entire shift.
But pride’s a bitch.
Rafe just stands there, arms crossed, staring at you like he’s waiting for you to come clean. You can feel his frustration, but there’s something else, too. Worry. It’s in the way his eyes keep flicking over your face, how his fingers are tapping against his arm like he’s holding himself back from just scooping you up and carrying you out of here.
"I heard from Topper," he finally says, like he’s been holding that card in his back pocket. You blink, trying to keep up. "He saw you at the club earlier, said you didn’t look right."
Great. Freaking Topper. Of course, idiot couldn’t mind his own business. You can almost picture him, all dressed up in some preppy golf outfit, spotting you from across the course and making a note to text Rafe the second he saw something off.
Rafe’s still watching you, waiting for a reaction.
You open your mouth, trying to come up with some excuse, some way to brush it off, but your brain’s too foggy, and all you manage is a weak, "I was fine then."
He raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? 'Cause Top said you looked like you were about to hurl on the 9th hole." He’s trying to keep his voice low, but you can tell he’s annoyed. Not at Topper, not even really at you—just at the whole situation.
You want to snap back, tell him you’re fine, that you’ve got it under control. But instead, all that comes out is another tired sigh. “Greg wouldn’t let me call out. Said they needed me.”
“You serious?”
“Dead-serious.”
Rafe’s jaw clenches so tight you think you hear his teeth grind. His hands come out of his pockets, flexing like he’s about to hit something—or someone. He runs a hand through his hair like he’s trying to calm himself down before he says something he’ll regret.
But you know him—he’s never been great at holding back when he’s pissed. And right now? He’s definitely pissed.
“Greg said that?” His voice is low, but there’s this dangerous edge to it, like he’s two seconds away from losing it, “You should’ve called me. I would’ve come down here, I would’ve—”
“I know.” You cut him off because you do know.
He would’ve dropped everything and come running. That’s exactly why you didn’t call. You didn’t want to be the a burden again. Like you said, you’re still working on yourself.
Rafe leans against the bar, his whole body radiating this intensity that makes you feel both comforted and nervous.
“So, let me get this straight,” he says, voice louder now, not even bothering to keep it low-key anymore. “You’re sick as hell, and that asshole wouldn’t let you stay home?”
You wince. He’s drawing attention now, people at the bar starting to glance over. You hate seeing him like this, but you don’t have the energy to smooth things over.
“Rafe, please—” you start, but he cuts you off.
“No, seriously. What kind of fucking manager forces someone to come in when they’re this sick?” His voice carries, and a couple of the other bartenders are giving you looks, like they can’t decide if they’re more surprised or impressed by Rafe’s audacity, "You’re killing yourself for this job, and he doesn’t give a fuck.”
You glance toward the back, hoping Greg’s still in the office and not witnessing this meltdown. The last thing you need right now is more heat from him. But of course, your luck sucks, because just as Rafe’s ramping up, Greg strides out from the back, clipboard in hand, that same stupid scowl on his face like he’s already annoyed at everything.
Rafe spots him instantly, and if you thought he was mad before, now he’s on a whole other level.
"Greg!" Rafe calls out, loud enough that half the bar turns to look. Your stomach sinks. This is about to get ugly.
Greg stops dead in his tracks, his eyes flicking to Rafe and then back to you. He knows. He knows exactly what’s about to happen, and he’s already losing the upper hand.
“Yeah, Rafe?” Greg’s voice is weak, almost shaky. Like he’s trying to keep it together, but he knows he’s got no chance. Rafe’s family literally owns half the island—Greg’s just some middle manager with too much attitude.
Your boyfriend steps forward, slow and deliberate, closing the space between them like he’s already won this thing.
“You made her come in today?” His voice is calm, but it’s that scary kind of calm that’s worse than yelling. The kind that makes your stomach drop because you know the person holding it together is barely holding back.
Greg opens his mouth to respond, but all that comes out is this pathetic mumble. “We… we were short-staffed.”
Rafe raises an eyebrow, his lips pulling into this cold, humorless smile. “Short-staffed?” He glances at you, and you feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You really didn’t want this to turn into a scene, but here you are. “You see how she looks right now? You made her come in like this?”
Greg’s eyes flick back and forth between you and Rafe, and you can see the panic starting to set in. He’s sweating now, probably realizing that this little power trip he’s on is about to bite him in the ass. “She didn’t… uh… say she couldn’t work…”
“She told you she was sick,” Rafe cuts him off, voice like steel. “You’re the manager, right? Thought that meant taking care of your staff. Guess I was wrong.”
Greg’s mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to think of something to say, but nothing’s coming. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, knowing any move he makes right now could get him fired. Hell, maybe even blacklisted from every job on the island. The Cameron’s have that kind of pull.
“I-I didn’t realize how bad it was,” Greg finally stammers, but even he doesn’t sound convinced by his own excuse.
Rafe takes another step forward, practically towering over Greg now. “You didn’t realize?” He laughs, but there’s no warmth in it. “Look at her, man. How could you not realize?”
You wince as the room seems to get quieter, everyone watching this power struggle unfold. You’d rather be anywhere but here right now, but you also know that Rafe’s not letting this slide.
Greg takes a step back, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. 
“I-I was just trying to keep things running. We… we were slammed.”
Rafe’s smile drops, and now it’s just pure ice. “You think that’s a good enough reason to put my girlfriend’s health at risk?”
Greg looks like he’s about to pass out himself at this point, but he manages to mutter, “No… no, I—I didn’t mean…”
“Here’s the deal, Greg,” Rafe says, voice low but dangerous. “You’re gonna back off. Let her finish this shift if she wants. If she doesn’t? She’s out, no questions asked. And next time, when she says she’s sick, you listen.”
Greg nods so fast it’s like his head’s on a swivel. “Of course, of course, Rafe. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I just—”
“Good,” Rafe interrupts, already turning away like he’s done with this conversation. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
Greg just stands there, wide-eyed and frozen, clearly too scared to even argue. He stammers some half-hearted apology, but Rafe’s already turning back to you, brushing the whole thing off like it was nothing.
You look up at him, still in shock at how quickly Greg folded. “You really didn’t need to do that.”
He shrugs, leaning back against the bar with that easy confidence he always has. “Yeah, I did,” he says, his tone softening now that it’s just the two of you. “I’m not gonna let some nobody push you around like that.”
You sigh, feeling both relieved and slightly embarrassed. “You know he’s probably gonna hate me even more now.”
Rafe smirks, like that’s the least of his concerns. “Who cares? He won’t say a fuckin’ thing. Trust me.”
“Everyone’s going to say a thing, baby. They’re gonna think I have some kind of privilege because I’m dating you.”
Rafe’s smirk softens. He steps a little closer, lowering his voice so only you can hear him over the dull roar of the bar.
“Let them think whatever they want,” he says, his hand brushing against yours. “You’ve been busting your ass here long before I ever stepped in. Nobody can take that from you.”
You bite your lip, feeling everyone’s eyes on you, judgment and curiosity. He’s right in a way—you’ve been working extra hard. But still, it’s hard to ignore the feeling that now, everyone’s going to assume you’ve got some special treatment just because of Rafe’s name.
“It’s not about that,” you murmur, “I just—don’t want people thinking I can’t stand on my own. I don’t want to be the girl who hides behind her boyfriend’s power.”
Rafe tilts his head, studying you with that look he always gives when he knows you're holding back.
“You think that’s what this is?” His voice is steady, his tone a little softer now. “This wasn’t about power, baby. This was about someone treating you like you didn’t matter. And I’m not letting anyone—anyone—do that to you.”
He’s not wrong.
Greg didn’t give a damn about how sick you were, only about keeping the bar running, like you were replaceable. And you hate how right Rafe is, how much you needed someone to step in, even if it makes you feel a little helpless. You swallow hard, the tightness in your chest easing slightly, though your body still feels like it’s been run over by a truck.
“And you’re not working anymore today, or the next week for that matter. You’re gonna get your ass in my car and we’re going to the doctor.”
You nod, knowing there’s no arguing with Rafe when he’s like this, but part of you still feels guilty.
Not for needing help exactly, but for not being able to handle it all on your own. You've always been the girl who grits her teeth and gets through it, but today? Your body is screaming at you that you just can’t. Not anymore.
Rafe’s watching you closely, like he’s waiting for you to argue, but you don’t. You’re too drained. The adrenaline from the confrontation with Greg is wearing off, and now all you feel is this bone-deep exhaustion.
“I’m not going to a doctor,” you say, even though you know you probably should. “Just home. I just need to sleep.”
He narrows his eyes like he’s trying to read between the lines of what you’re saying, but then he just nods. “Fine. But if you’re not better by tomorrow, I’m dragging you to urgent care. No arguments.”
You give him a weak smile, trying to show you appreciate it even though you feel like crap.
“Deal.”
Without another word, he moves around the bar, ignoring Greg’s gawking and the way everyone’s still sneaking glances at you two. He gently takes the towel out of your hand, sets it on the counter, and slips an arm around your waist.
It’s the first time you’ve felt stable all day, leaning into him like you might actually make it to the car without collapsing.
“I don’t think I can afford an appointment.”
He looks at you like you’ve just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. His arm tightens around your waist, steadying you as you start to sway a little on your feet.
"Not worried about the money.”
You try to shake your head, but the movement makes you dizzy, and you stop, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
"I just don’t want to be that person, you know? Relying on you for everything."
He gives you a side glance, eyebrows raised.
"Baby, you’re not relying on me for everything. You’re literally sick, and I’m not about to let you tough it out just because you’re too stubborn to ask for help. We’ve talked about this a million times.”
"I guess," you mumble, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you walk towards the door.
"No guessing about it," he says, softer now, his fingers brushing your arm in a way that makes you feel more grounded. "You’ve been holding down the fort for too long. Let me take care of you for once."
The air outside hits you like a slap, but Rafe keeps you close, leading you toward his car. Your legs are weak, the fever still simmering under your skin, but his body warmth keeps you upright.
"Thanks," you whisper, even though it feels weird to say. You’re not used to thanking people for basic care, but with Rafe, it feels different.
He pauses, opening the passenger door for you.
"You don’t gotta thank me, okay? I’m just doing what anyone who loves you would do."
Your heart skips at that. You’re still not used to how easily he says stuff like that, like it’s no big deal. But he’s rubbing off on you, because you can say it just as easily now.
“I love you too, sorry for being a pain in your ass.”
Rafe chuckles as he helps you into the car, leaning down to make sure you’re settled before he shuts the door. He bends down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.
"You're always a pain in my ass," he murmurs against your skin, grinning as he pulls back just enough to look at you. "But you’re my pain in the ass, and that’s what matters."
You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips despite how wrecked you feel. The fever, the headache, the exhaustion—it all takes a backseat, at least for a moment. 
Knowing Rafe’s always got your back? That makes it a little easier to breathe.
218 notes · View notes
d1xonss · 2 days
Text
Practice Makes Perfect
✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader
✧ Era : Season 11
✧ Pronouns : she/her
✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+)
✧ Word Count : 8.9k
AN ~ Okay, so this was originally a request sent in by annon, but when I first uploaded it, I wasn't completely happy with the turnout. It felt a bit rushed and there were some things I wanted to change so I figured I would reupload and try again. So in other words, if you've already seen me post this once, no you didn't:) Hope you enjoy! xoxo
ps- Daryl's a sub in this so if you're into that, this is definitely for you;)
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Daryl stood slumped over at the kitchen counter in the shitty apartment he now called home, the space oddly silent as the kids were off with Carol for the day. But the quiet was nice, it gave him time to think, time to let his mind wander as he slowly woke for the day. The smell of coffee hit his nose as it brewed softly from behind him, the light streaming in through the opened windows to let in the fresh breeze. 
Though his gaze remained downcast at the piece of paper that sat in front of him, his eyes rereading the words over and over again to the point where he had it memorized. The neat cursive of your handwriting, the small errors in your spelling, and especially the little heart you placed at the bottom where your name was signed. You had left it the first time you came over, and even though you didn’t have a clue in the world, he had kept it ever since. Mostly because he didn’t have the heart to throw it away. Though there might’ve been another small part of him that held onto it because it was something you wrote out for him, and him only.
He reminisced about how stressed he was that day, having just moved into the Commonwealth with two of his kids, trying to figure out the new community and routine they would have to grow accustomed to. It was all very surreal having to go back to a “normal” kind of life, Judith already asking for allowance before he even had his first day of work made his head spin. But then with just a soft knock on the door, came a sight that he never expected to see.
You stood there on the other side, all pretty and perfect, wearing a smile on your face and holding out a container of cookies as some kind of welcome. You explained that you lived just down the hall and heard about the new arrivals, wanting to do something special as you expressed your understanding for how weird it must’ve felt for him. And after offering your baked goods and assistance to whatever they might need, all Daryl could do was nod his head as he stared at you dumbly. He wasn’t trying to be rude, in fact he appreciated your words more than anything in that moment. However, he couldn’t help but ogle you as if you walked straight out of a Disney movie or something.
And it was safe to say those feelings never exactly went away. In fact every time he saw you they only seemed to worsen.
The kids however were even more hooked with you than he was, your cookies really winning them over in the beginning as they finished them within a day and a half. “Marry her.” was the first thing Judith told him after tasting the delicious treat, and he couldn’t deny he was amused. Though he obviously wasn’t looking to date or marry anyone ever, the idea of eating whatever you baked for the years to come...it tempted him a bit.
But the reality of it all was that he didn’t want to ruin his blossoming friendship with you, it was far too precious for him to ever risk. That, and he had absolutely no experience with relationships whatsoever. He had kissed a girl once when he was about fifteen, but other than that, he hadn't been with anyone in his entire life. Never even showed interest in any woman that attempted to flirt or touch him as he simply didn’t ever feel the need to want that. He always preferred to be on his own, that’s just the way that it was. 
But now as he stood there, reading over your note you left on top of the container of cookies all those months ago, he knew he was in way over his head with someone like you.
Just then the front door suddenly opened up, the sound causing him to jump a bit as your familiar voice called out, “It’s me!”
It had become a common occurrence for you to just walk into each other's homes without knocking, and though Daryl didn’t mind, now was clearly not the time. He scrambled to open up a random drawer, tossing the note inside before slamming it shut again, “Kitchen.” he called back with a huff.
He saw your head peek around the corner a few seconds later, smiling as you adjusted the strap of your purse, “Hey, you busy?”
“Nah,” he said as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, “Just…makin some coffee.” he gestured, offering you a thin lipped smile.
You nodded, “Where are the kids?” you asked, sitting yourself down at one of the stools across from him, “I found some things I think they’ll like, I figured I’d stop by and drop them off.”
“They’re out with Carol, she offered to take ‘em for a couple hours.”
“Oh.” you nodded again as you watched him turn around to pour himself a cup of coffee, “Well, that’s nice…you deserve some peace in the mornings every once and a while. I can just leave them here.” you suggested as you took the two little boxes out of your bag, placing them down on the counter.
He hummed a response before retrieving some milk and sugar to pour a decent amount into the mug, making you question everything as he was always adamant on having his coffee black. The way God intended or something. But then your expression softened a bit seeing him setting it down in front of you instead, making it the way he knew you loved.
“Oh, I don’t need any-” you tried to protest.
“It’s just coffee,” he said as if it were no big deal, “No roofies or anything, I swear.”
You snorted at his shitty joke, like you always did, raising the cup to your lips as you muttered, “Smartass.” just loud enough for him to hear.
He smirked a little at your response, pouring himself a cup of the steaming hot beverage as the two of you enjoyed it in the nice comfortable silence. His eyes never strayed away from you for very long however, almost as if he was casually taking in your appearance without you noticing too much. You always dressed up pretty, your hair styled to perfection, wearing some kind of boot or high heel, and paired with some fancy outfit that was far too much for the apocalypse. But Daryl never minded. In fact, he found it endearing.
Though he couldn’t help but let his mind wander a bit, noticing that it had been quite a long time since he had seen you. Usually the two of you would get together a few times a week simply because you had grown to love each other’s company. But recently you had been busy with other things, with other people. Perhaps that’s why he found himself staring at your note this morning, subconsciously missing you without even realizing it.
“You avoiding me or somethin?” he then broke the silence, his question lighthearted but a part of him was a little serious. His insecurities tending to get in the way of things.
Your brows furrowed a little, “What?”
He shrugged a bit, “Just noticed you’ve been busy lately…haven’t seen ya in a while. Miss ya.”
You gave him a sad smile, “Believe me, I’m not doing it on purpose, work has just been insane. We recruited a few new people who don’t know what the hell they’re doing, training them has been a disaster, and…” you trailed off as you looked at him, noticing the small smile he wore when watching you ramble on and on. “...I miss you too.”
“Then stay for a while.” he said, his voice soft, seeing if he could keep you a few extra minutes before you would ultimately have to go to work.
You sat up a bit straighter at the invitation, “Yeah? You want me to?”
“Course.” he reassured, though his statement made him feel a bit uneasy, roughly clearing his throat to slightly divert the topic, “Just…don’t get too comfortable cause you ain’t movin in.”
He heard you laugh softly, the sound being almost too perfect to be real, “Don’t worry, I know you like your little bachelor pad going on here.” you gestured.
He scoffed, “Yeah, when the kids ain’t hoggin it.”
You hummed before a slow knowing smile was brought to your face, gently setting down your mug, “You know, speaking of…I talked to Carol recently. She told me some pretty interesting things.”
He raised an eyebrow, whether it was one of concern or curiosity, you couldn’t tell, “Oh yeah? Bout what?”
“You. And…Connie.” you hinted.
A look of surprise crossed his face, “What bout Connie?”
You shrugged innocently, “She seems to think you have a little thing for her.” you said, taking another sip of your coffee as you looked around, “Maybe this won’t be a bachelor pad for long.” you winked.
Daryl was left baffled. Why Carol would think he had a thing for Connie, he had no idea. But she had gotten it completely wrong, and now the girl he had been pinning over was under the same impression from the misinformation. But he couldn’t necessarily correct you, not without you questioning why. This conversation couldn’t have been going any worse, and all because he just wanted you to stay for a damn cup of coffee.
He couldn’t help but chuckle nervously, running a hand through his slightly messy hair, “You and yer wishful thinkin, girl.” he tried to brush off.
You tilted your head a bit at his dismissive tone, “I just want you to be happy.”
The sincerity in your voice made his heart flutter in an unimaginable way, finding he couldn’t stop the smile that spread onto his face. This is exactly why he liked you, your heart was far too big for your own good. “Yer pretty sweet, ya know that?”
“I’m just being honest,” you spoke softly, “If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.”
He scoffed lightly in response, “Well, I appreciate that…but I don't think that's somethin I want...it ain’t really that simple for me. I can’t just…do that with Connie. Or any woman really. I ain’t good at that kinda stuff, I dunno what the hell m’ doin. I never even-”
A lump formed in his throat as he suddenly cut off the last part of his sentence, feeling his face get hot with embarrassment at what almost dared to slip out. He hadn’t meant to say that much, he never wanted to admit this kind of stuff to anyone let alone the woman he was enamored by. But now he had gone too far, he became far too open and honest about his inexperience, and now all he wanted to do was crawl into a hole and die. 
Apparently, the conversation could get worse.
Though whether it was because of your innocence or the fact that it was early in the morning, you weren’t picking up what he was putting down as your face morphed into confusion instead. “Never even…what?”
Oh for the love of God.
Daryl cleared his throat awkwardly as he ran a hand over his face, the redness spreading down his neck as he debated on whether or not to tell you. It was mortifying, the fact that he had gone fifty whole years without touching a woman was absolutely the last thing he wanted you to know. Yet at the same time, he trusted you. He trusted you wouldn’t laugh or make fun of him for the matter. And anyway, he felt it was a little too late to back out now given the intrigued look on your face.
“Never had…y’know…” he trailed off with a gesture of his hand, hoping he wouldn’t have to actually say it out loud.
A beat of silence passed before your eyes widened a little as you connected the dots. Though you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. No way this man was a virgin.
“Shut up.”
Daryl felt his cheeks burn brighter at your disbelief, “M’ serious…I ain’t ever…done that before.”
“You’ve never had sex?” you asked as if to make sure you were truly on the same page.
He blinked, “No.”
You slumped back in your seat with a breath, “Wow…” you muttered, watching as he grew more uncomfortable by the second. Though you weren’t trying to make him uneasy by admitting such a thing, it just genuinely surprised you that he had gone this far in his life without sleeping with someone. I mean…he was attractive, kind, somewhat of a smartass. It was hard to believe no one had fallen for that sort of thing, causing you to wonder just how much he had missed out on.
You nodded to yourself, “We gotta get you laid or something.”
His eyes widened in absolute horror, clearly not expecting that response from you, “No, no that’s- what?” he exclaimed in disgust, “You ain’t gettin me laid.”
“Why not?” you asked in mild disappointment.
He set his mug down on the counter with a soft slam as he grunted in slight frustration, “Christ (Y/N), cause it ain’t that easy. I don’t just wanna screw around with someone, that ain’t me. I would have to have…feelings for that person to get that far, y’know?” he asked, silently pleading with you to understand.
His outlook made you slowly realize that Daryl wasn’t like any other guy you’d ever met. Well, you always knew that, but hearing his genuine words seemed to make you falter for a moment as you just simply stared at him. Any other guy would absolutely dive head first for the opportunity to have a random and meaningless hookup, something to make them feel good before forgetting about the other person as a whole. Using them to just get what they wanted. 
But Daryl…was the complete opposite; probably the biggest sweetheart the world had ever seen. You knew he would want to love and cherish that person he would share such an intimate moment with, treating them with the most respect and consideration. He would probably take it as slow as possible, not only to prolong the intimacy, but to make sure they were truly comfortable. You imagined him to be gentle and kind, even after the deed was done, he would continue to take care of them, offering to get them anything their heart desired. 
Thinking about all of this caused an unexpected flutter in your stomach, one that you didn’t expect. But you couldn’t deny it was there.
You blinked a few times to snap yourself out of it, clearing your throat awkwardly, “I know that…I honestly wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” you smiled softly.
His shoulders relaxed a bit upon hearing your response, nodding in appreciation as he assumed the topic of conversation would end here, hoping to get out of this humiliating misery. But before he could speak, your gentle voice cut off his words.
“Is there someone you have feelings for?"
His eyes widened a little at the unexpected question, "...Huh?"
"Is there someone you’d want to, you know…experience that with?” you clarified.
He paused again, swallowing nervously as there was a certain heaviness to that question he couldn’t place. Of course there was. The way he felt about you was unlike anything else he had ever experienced before. In the beginning he denied it relentlessly, because he simply couldn’t accept the fact that he had managed to open up his heart to someone so special. But there was no denying it anymore, at least to himself. Though you on the other hand, could never know the truth.
“Nah.” he said simply.
You nodded slowly in understanding, quietly tapping your fingers on the counter as if you were trying to figure out what to say. “Well…if there comes a time where there is someone, and you need some advice…I’m always around.” you assured.
He nodded slowly, “Alright...” he said in appreciation, trying to mask how he was really feeling, his heart feeling like it was about to burst out of his chest at the thought of you seeing through him.
“Dropping the topic now.” you said as you raised your hands in surrender.
He chuckled gruffly, “Thanks.”
You smiled up at him, before catching a glimpse of the time blinking on the oven, “Oh shoot, I should go. I have to head into the infirmary in like fifteen minutes.” you said as you quickly drank one last mouthful of coffee.
Daryl tried his best not to let his disappointment show, nodding once more as his eyes followed you when you moved around to place your empty mug in the sink. Though the disappointment seemed to diminish when you turned around to give him a hug, your arms going around his shoulders as you gave him a soft squeeze. He found himself smiling at your familiar gesture, patting your back before he pulled away first, his hand lingering on your arm.
“Stay outta trouble, alright?” he mumbled.
“Always.” you promised in return.
An entire week had passed since that little talk the two of you had in his home, and it was safe to say that it had been plaguing Daryl’s mind ever since. He couldn’t recall the last time he was so open with someone, not being able to tell for certain if he regretted it or not. Though he couldn’t deny that your support and understanding wasn’t something to take for granted. But the longer he thought about the interaction, the more he wished he’d told you the truth.
Maybe he should’ve laid it all out there, but then again he had a lot to lose. Having no idea how you would react to his confession, he could potentially scare you off, and that was something he didn’t know if he should risk. He became a mess of emotions as he pondered endlessly over the things that clouded his thoughts. Although he couldn’t deny that he was slowly starting to find the idea of sex more and more appealing the longer he thought about it. Maybe having a little experience wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. But that also meant having to ask you for that experience, and he knew he would rather die than put himself out there like that.
Though as the days dragged on and he grew more restless, he physically couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it. This was way out of his comfort zone, he knew that, but he felt like he was going crazy at this point. At least if you said no then he could just move on and not absolutely spiral about the constant “what ifs.” So, with that in mind, he smoked an entire joint by himself in order to calm his nerves before gathering what little confidence he had left, and headed down to the infirmary where he knew you’d be at this hour. He couldn’t let himself think about the decision too much otherwise he knew he would surely chicken out. 
The door opened with a soft creak as he stepped inside, scanning the area for you. He disregarded the people sitting in the waiting area, clearly anticipating when their name would be called, opting out to peer around the corner to try and see if he could spot you. And sure enough he managed to catch a glimpse of your frame in the back, stocking up a nearby medicine cabinet as you organized a few pill bottles. You were wearing that little white doctors coat that he knew you hated, thinking it ruined your outfits. But he always found it quite attractive.
He awkwardly stood there for a moment as if debating whether or not to go back there, knowing he didn’t exactly have permission. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, letting out a small whistle in hopes to get you to look at him. It was a quiet, soft sound, but it caught your attention nonetheless, glancing over your shoulder to see him standing there lingering in the waiting room. He smiled a bit, gesturing with a hand as if asking if he could walk over to talk to you, to which you nodded almost immediately, waving him back.
Daryl let out a breath once you beckoned him to come over, silently slipping past everyone else to join you in your more secluded spot, “Hey.” he breathed.
You smiled, “Hey, what’re you doing here?”
Once you said that, it hit him. What was he doing here? He showed up to where you worked of all places to have this private discussion, not even considering the option to invite you over sometime to talk like adults. Maybe he underestimated how high he really was.
“Just uh…just wanted to see ya.” he said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he figured there was no backing out now, “Can we talk for a minute?”
“Oh, um…” you trailed off as you looked around, making sure no one needed your assistance, “You might have to make it quick.”
He nodded in understanding, “Right, course…I promise it won’t take long.”
Your brows furrowed a little in concern, “What’s going on?”
He cleared his throat nervously, gripping the material of his jeans as he felt his palms begin to sweat, “You know, uh…you remember that morning you came over a few days ago? When we was talkin in the kitchen?”
“Mhm.” you nodded.
He swallowed thickly as his heart was beating concerningly fast, trying to force himself to just say it, “Well, I been thinkin…bout what you said and…all that,” he gestured with his hand, “Bout gettin some real experience.”
Your eyebrows raised a little, “Really? You changed your mind?”
“Yeah, I did,” he grunted, “I think it could help, y’know…get outta my comfort zone and whatnot. See what all the fuss is bout.” he joked dryly, purposefully dancing around the subject.
You smiled a bit in surprise that he was willing to take that step, knowing normally he wasn’t one for change or trying new things. But maybe this time he was really ready to put himself out there, and you couldn’t lie, you were happy for him. Though the more you thought about it, the more you became a bit discouraged at the thought of him with another woman. You didn’t know where it came from, this pang of jealousy, but you knew you couldn’t say anything. After all, you were his friend, and he clearly came here in search of the support you always provided.
So, you managed to push your lingering thoughts aside, smiling genuinely as you gave his arm a small nudge, “Well, I think that’s great.”
He hummed as he nodded his head, trying to force himself to just stop being a coward and ask, “But I also had…somethin to ask ya.”
You raised an eyebrow, “Oh? About advice?”
“Nah…not exactly,” he mumbled as he let out a heavy sigh, “I was just wonderin…if you’d…” he trailed off again as he took another moment to look at you. He knew there was no going back after he said this, questioning last minute if it was really worth it. But seeing that gleam in your eyes and the sweetness of your smile, the words just seemed to stumble out without his permission.
“If you’d be the one to give me some experience.” he said quietly, his tall frame leaning down a bit to mutter it quietly for your ears only.
Your stomach plummeted when you heard his quiet request, feeling as if the wind was knocked out of you as that was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. The way his tone dropped when he asked, the fact that he took a small step closer to tower over you more than he normally was. It was all doing something to do. The tension between you was there, thick enough to cut with a knife as you stared at him practically gaping like a fish, not knowing what to say.
On one hand, you were flattered, and a little turned on by the fact that he wanted you specifically to give him the experience he craved. But another part of you felt hesitant, as if you weren’t one hundred percent sure he knew what he was asking of you. You wanted him to get out there, escape his comfort zone, but you didn’t want him to do it just because you simply suggested it.
Though just as he was growing a bit worried at your silence, you finally spoke, “...Me? You…you want it to be me?” you whispered.
He let out a soft breath, “Well…yeah. I...I really like ya, and...I trust ya.” he admitted, gazing down at you with a certain gentleness in his eyes, “But you know…you don’t gotta if you dont want to. I ain't gonna pressure you or anythin, I just thought I'd...” he trailed off, realizing he was talking far too much.
But you didn’t feel pressured, quite the opposite really. You honestly just couldn’t believe this was actually happening, it was a lot to process, and you hardly knew what to say. Time seemed to be moving incredibly fast and slow at the same time as you stood there, staring at each other with a newfound feeling.
Though just as you were about to open your mouth to speak again, someone popped around the corner and called your name, clearly needing some help. Daryl silently cursed at the interruption, though it was to be expected. He was coming to the conclusion that this was probably the worst time to be having this discussion.
“Sounds like they need ya...” he said softly.
You tilted your head as you didn’t want to go, your expression turning sympathetic, “I’m sorry.” you whispered.
Daryl shrugged it off, “It’s alright.” he said, hesitating for a moment, before reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. Your eyes widened a little at the gesture, the comfort of his touch, feeling yourself almost leaning into his hand before he took it away too quickly.
“I’ll um…I’ll see ya around, okay?” he said with a nod before turning to head out, not even giving you a chance to respond. 
You were a little shocked at his sudden rush to get away, but at the same time you understood. He must’ve been incredibly embarrassed and ashamed, especially since you hadn’t given him an answer. A part of you wanted to call him back, but you knew better than to do that, knowing he was already too far gone to hear you anyways.
Daryl couldn’t even begin to describe his regret as he walked back home, the distance between his apartment and the infirmary giving him way too much time to think. You didn’t seem completely disgusted, but clearly you weren’t a huge fan of the idea given the look on your face. He knew this was a bad plan from the get go, but he still somehow convinced himself to do it, now wishing he had never opened up his mouth at all. He felt a certain grief wash over him as he could imagine he had ruined whatever relationship he had with you, needing to learn to let it go. 
The remainder of the day passed by in a flash, ending with him taking a long, hot shower in an attempt to ease the tension in his muscles and the thoughts circling his mind. The water sprayed down on him like an element of lava given the harsh temperature, his fingers running through his wettened hair as he rinsed out the soap and bubbles. Perhaps the longer he spent under the running faucet, the more it would make him forget about the embarrassing events of the day. It caused him to wonder what you were thinking at this moment in time, but then again a part of him didn’t want to know.
“Daryl?”
His eyes widened in surprise when he heard the sound of your voice, momentarily considering it to be just his imagination, but the sound of the front door closing with a familiar slam convinced him otherwise. What the hell were you doing here? And with the worst timing in the world.
“Y-Yeah? I’m in the shower.” he called out without thinking, the door being opened a crack and just enough to where he hoped you could hear him.
You fidgeted nervously near the front entrance, hearing his slightly muffled words made you rethink your decision to come over, seeing it clearly wasn’t the best time. “Oh, okay...should I um…should I come back later?”
“No, no,” he quickly called out again, “Just…just gimmie a sec.” he said as he frantically finished up before you had the chance to leave.
With his reassurance in mind, you stayed put as you waited for him, briefly hearing the water shut off after only a few seconds. Your thoughts ran wild as you pondered over the things you wanted to say, having not been able to take your mind off the interaction for your whole shift. It was distracting, nerve racking…but it was also a bit enticing. You had no idea what you were going to say to him, but one thing was for certain, you weren’t about to deny that his request didn’t intrigue you.
The sound of his footsteps approaching is what snapped you out of your thoughts, your eyes widening a fraction as you saw him step into the living room in nothing but a towel. The truth was, he was just far too anxious to hear what you had to say to take the time and put on real clothes. Though now as he stood a few feet from you with just a thin piece of fabric shielding him, he felt a little exposed under your lingering gaze. But you couldn’t bring yourself to look away, his messy hair sticking to the sides of his face and the water droplets that clung to his skin, it truly was a sight to behold.
Had you always looked at him like this? From the moment you met, you always saw him as a close friend and someone you could count on for anything. But now it was like a switch flipped or something, nearly drooling as you saw him in a way you never had before.
“Somethin you need, sweetheart?” Daryl’s voice broke through the silence.
You blinked a few times as you were brought back to the current situation, nodding absentmindedly, “Yeah, uh…I was hoping we could talk.”
He shifted a bit on his feet, subconsciously tugging his towel up a bit, “Bout what?” he asked dumbly. He knew why you were here; he just didn’t know what else to say.
You gave him a look that made him feel stupider than before, “About earlier…” you trailed off after a moment, attempting to find the right words, “Were you…um…did you really mean all that?”
He shrugged, “Yeah…” he breathed, “You really think I didn’t mean what I said?”
“No,” you quickly reassured with a shake of your head, “It’s just…it was all really unexpected, you know? You’ve never done anything like this before, and now all of a sudden, you’re asking me-”
“I know how it looks,” he said as he dared to take another step closer to you, “But…I’ve had these feelings for ya ever since you first knocked on that damn door, alright? It’s new to you but it ain’t new to me.”
Your expression softened as he admitted this wasn’t some spur of the moment thing, not that you thought it was. But his confirmed feelings for you only drew you closer to him, hearing the assertiveness behind every word.
“Look,” he sighed, “Goin down there and askin ya that was me bein a fuckin idiot. I shouldn’t have gone about it like that, hell, maybe I shouldn’t have even asked at all...I don’t know. But I don’t want ya to feel like ya owe me a damn thing, cause ya don’t. If you don’t wanna do this-”
“I want to.”
Daryl paused for a moment when you interrupted him, feeling a bit shocked that you had made your decision just like that. But then again, you did have hours to think it over. Meanwhile he didn’t even have to think twice when it came to you.
“Y-You do?” he asked, not meaning to stutter. He was just thrown off and absolutely floored that someone as breathtaking as you would agree to something like this with him of all people.
You took a breath as you stepped closer to him, leaving just a few inches of space, “Yeah…I really do. Honestly, I’m...pretty flattered.”
He felt a sudden burst of nervousness in his chest as the reality of the situation began to set in for him. You wanted this too. He could easily see how genuine you were being as you moved to be closer to him.
Clearing his throat gruffly, he spoke again a bit quieter, “Yer flattered?” he couldn’t help but chuckle, “Ya don’t even know the half of it.”
You smiled a little, sensing both his eagerness and unease which you seemed to find charming, “It’s just me.” you reminded.
He nodded quickly, “Yeah, yeah I know…” he said as he hesitantly rested his hands upon your arms, as if to help steady himself. “I just…I don’t know what m’ doin.” he admitted a bit sheepishly.
“I know,” you reassured, “I’ll show you…you trust me?”
He nodded again, his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage as he grew more anxious by the second. Not because of her, but because of the unknown. But it was clear he was in good hands. “I trust you.”
With his simple nod of approval, you reached up to gently grasp the back of his neck, before pulling him down to meet you halfway where your lips clashed together. He gasped quietly against your mouth, the softness of your lips already addicting as his hands instinctively squeezed your arms, wanting to keep himself grounded. The taste of you was better than he ever could’ve imagined, heavenly, unreal…but what else did he expect from someone as perfect as you? As the kiss deepened, you slowly coaxed his mouth open so you could slip in your tongue, his groan in response to you only encouraged you to keep going. His kiss was hesitant and a bit sloppy, though you couldn’t help but love it.
Your free hand moved up to his wrist, guiding his hand down toward your hip as if silently encouraging him to touch you. Daryl received the message loud and clear, but he was still a bit clueless when it came to how, slowly allowing his hand to roam the curve of your back blindly. He then pulled you a bit closer to him, wanting to feel every part of you against his skin. But with his swift movement, caused his towel to nearly slip all the way off his waist, feeling him quickly grab it before it had the chance to hit the ground. 
He cursed quietly as he pulled away from your mouth, his breathing coming out in short, harsh pants as he grew a bit flushed at the idea of being completely naked in front of you. You allowed him to collect himself for as long as he needed, noticing the red that dusted his cheeks, but you still didn’t miss the blatant lust that filled his eyes.
Your hand reached up to gently brush some hair away from his face, “You don’t have to be embarrassed around me.” you spoke so softly, so patiently, leaving a few kisses on his cheek as if to help ease him.
He sighed shakily, trying to gather himself as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the feel of your touch, “I know, just…never been this exposed in front of anyone before.”
“I know,” you assured again, your mouth traveling to gently nip at his earlobe, “How about we move to your room? And you can take it off when you’re ready.”
Daryl hissed softly as your teeth grazed his ear, nodding frantically at your suggestion, “Okay…yeah.” he said breathlessly before taking your hand to guide you back down the hallway.
In a flash he had taken you into his room, shutting and locking the door behind the two of you before you gestured for him to sit down on the edge of his bed. He followed your suggestion without saying a word, willing to do just about anything you wanted right now with how incredibly turned on he was. Though he was extremely nervous, he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted you, how many times he had imagined himself in situations much like this one. Completely at your mercy.
His eyes followed your movements as you came to stand in between his legs, cupping his face to angle it up toward you. “Just relax.” you whispered before slowly kissing him again with a little more force than before.
This time he couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up in his throat, feeling the smoothness of your skin on his aging cheeks, his body physically shuttering. His hands reached out to pull you closer to his bare chest, wanting your body flush against him as his touch seemed to roam a bit more confidently. You felt his hands travel down to squeeze your ass, groaning into your mouth as your tongue invaded his mouth to taste him again. At this point he couldn’t help but wonder if this was a dream, or some kind of sick hallucination, his mind tricking his body that this was actually happening with how fast they seemed to move. But he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care right now.
You smiled against his lips as he gently groped your ass, your hands moving up towards his hair to give the roots a gentle tug as your mouths worked frantically. A shiver ran down his spine, the action making his head spin. You were so good with him, so gentle yet so firm as well. He couldn’t stop himself from breaking away from your mouth briefly, his lips moving down your neck as if he wanted to trace and memorize every last bit of your skin.
You sighed softly as your head instinctively tilted back for him, “You sure you’re a virgin? You seem pretty good at this.” you teased lightheartedly.
Chuckling against your skin, he took his time to kiss the underside of your jaw a few times before responding roughly, “Just have a good imagination is all…”
“You’ve thought about this before?”
He nodded a bit timidly against your neck, growing a bit shy at the admission, “A lot, actually…”
A smile broke out onto your face as you looked down at him, “Well, now I’m even more flattered.”
He groaned in slight embarrassment as he buried his face in the side of your neck, the words just slipping out without him being able to stop. His mind was too far in the clouds to realize fully, the lingering effects of the weed he had smoked making his mind a bit hazier. But he desperately wanted to remember every little detail, his hands trailing down toward your thighs as if he was itching to memorize your body.
“Here...” you then spoke again, moving his hands up toward the buttons of your blouse, “Help me out.”
Daryl looked back up at you with slightly widened eyes, swallowing thickly as he gave a shaky nod, beginning to undo them one by one. His calloused hands, though rough, couldn’t have been more gentle when it came to touching you. He treated every part of your skin like it was delicate glass, a piece of art to admire, as he almost didn’t feel worthy of being in this position. How could he have gotten so lucky when this was the last thing he thought he deserved.
“Keep going,” you encouraged when you felt your top fall to the floor, feeling his hands hesitantly move to unzip your skirt.
The piece of fabric slowly slid down your smooth legs and bunched at your feet, leaving you in practically nothing as you believed bras were a waste of time and effort to wear. His eyes took in every inch of you, mentally trying to capture this moment as he was already reluctant for it to end. And yet it hardly even started.
“You’re so beautiful…” he whispered as his hands reached out to touch you again, his face filled with desperation.
You smiled as you looked down at him, “Yeah?”
He nodded instantly, “Yeah…I can’t believe this is actually happening.”
A laugh escaped your lips as you leaned down to be aligned with his face, “We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” you said sweetly before leaving a kiss on his cheek.
Daryl let out a breath as you kissed his cheek, the reminder that this was far from over was almost reassuring. His growing need and want was beginning to be unbearable, his hands gripping your thighs a bit tighter as he felt his erection start to ache.
“You wanna take that off for me?”
Upon hearing your request, the gesture of your hand that pointed toward the towel still around his hips, he grew a bit anxious. It was no secret that he was a bit insecure with the way he looked, he was older, his hair and beard a bit graying, his skin worn and scarred. He knew he was about to be fully vulnerable with you, that being both a good and a bad thing. He did trust you, but he just hoped you liked how he looked despite the fact that he didn’t.
It took a moment for him to build up the courage, to which you were incredibly patient, before he finally pulled the towel off of him, leaving him completely bare in front of you. But your reaction was far from a negative one. Your eyes widened a little as you took him in, not being able to see his flaws he was so worried about as you were solely focused on how breathtaking he looked. His arms could’ve been sculpted by gods, his toned chest rising and falling with every heaving breath, and as your gaze traveled south, you were shocked at the bragging rights he seemed to hold. 
But the thing you wanted him to know the most, was that he was just as perfect to you as you were to him.
Though seeing his pleading expression seemed to stir something inside you, quickly slipping off your thong before stepping forward to straddle his hips in a fit of impatience. His eyes widened at your fast actions, but he wasn’t about to complain, his hands immediately going to your hips to hold to in place as he loved the feel of your skin against his. He didn’t know what to do now exactly, but he did know that he wanted more of you.
“You’re so handsome.” you praised, your mouth coming down to suck softly on the side of his neck. "So perfect for me."
A small gasp escaped him at your praise, your mouth working against his skin caused him to nearly melt beneath you. He had been called a lot of things in his life, but handsome and perfect were never one of them. It was new, different…and he loved it. He soaked up everything he could like a sponge, wanting to ravish in your touch forever. But when he felt you begin to rock against him, stroking his length with every pass of your hips, he couldn’t help the strangled moan he dared to let out. His hips instinctively bucked up against you in return, unable to help himself as he craved more than what you were giving him. All he could feel was his heart racing, his skin burning up, and his dick twitching as he physically needed more. His face nuzzled in the side of your neck, breathing you in as shivers of pleasure ran through him like currents of electricity.
You hummed, “You like that?” you asked, your mouth hovering over the shell of his ear where your teeth grazed his sensitive skin.
Daryl nodded his head frantically against you, losing himself in the lust he had never felt before in his entire life, “Yes…yes, I like it.” he stuttered out desperately, gripping onto you as a signal not to stop anytime soon.
He had never felt so good, the rhythm mixed with your kisses and taunting praise, he felt he could’ve imploded right then and there. He wanted more, his body craved more of you, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. His breathing was ragged at this point as he tried to hold himself back, his face still hidden in the crook of your neck as his lips began to place soft kisses against your skin. But as your pace grew more tortuous and slow, he couldn’t help but writhe and moan beneath you, not being able to take much more of your teasing.
You felt him pull back to look up at you, a distressed look painting his face, “Please.” he nearly whined. It was a tone you had never heard from him before, finding that you loved the way he was falling apart for you.
“Please what, honey?” you asked sweetly as if you didn’t already know, cupping the sides of his face, “Tell me what you want.”
A soft whimper escaped him in your agony, knowing damn well you knew what he meant. He looked up at you pleadingly, the smooth skin of your hands on his face feeling so good, but not good enough. “You…” he whispered needily, “I want you…please.” he begged.
Whilst he was beneath you, whimpering and pleading for you to fuck him, you on the other hand learned something new about yourself. The scene that played before you was something sinful, but you loved it far too much to feel even a little bit guilty. The burly man you had come to know as tough and stoic, just whimpered because of you. And for that, you had no choice but to give him what he so desperately needed.
In an instant you slowly sunk down onto his length, the size of him causing a moan of your own to escape through parted lips. Though Daryl on the other hand groaned loudly as he felt your tight walls enveloping him, his head falling back as he bit his lower lip in an attempt to silence the noises you threatened to pull from him with one simple move. It felt like he had just walked through the pearly gates of heaven, the feeling so surreal and pleasurable he couldn’t help but let it cross his mind.
As you adjusted to him, you looked down and studied his face, his brow already lined with sweat and his expression one of pure bliss. “You look so good like this.” you whispered, your finger gently tracing his jawline.
He wanted to scoff at your comment, thinking that he no doubt looked like a mess in front of you, but he couldn’t help but feel prideful at the thought of you loving it. It made him feel good, perhaps more confident even though he was fully flushed and exposed.
Though as he felt you begin to move, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and a low moan left him in response, feeling the heat in his stomach already beginning to build. His hands moved from your hips down to your thighs as if to encourage you to keep going, giving them a firm squeeze as he panted to try and catch his breath. He felt as if he were going insane with the waves of pleasure washing down upon him, the feeling like no other as he knew he was a goner from the moment you agreed. His head was spinning though he tried to concentrate, not wanting it to ever come to an end as he watched you steadily pick up the pace from above him.
His mind was lost on him as your movements quickened skillfully, his hips pathetically trying to match your pace though he was failing miserably. But he didn’t care. It felt too good to care. His fingers nearly dug into the soft skin of your thighs as he whimpered and squirmed, feeling himself already starting to chase his high. He felt a little embarrassed that it had taken him close to nothing to reach his peak, but then again, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to stop.
Daryl grew desperate to say something, to warn you that he was getting more and more overwhelmed with the feeling of ecstasy, though he wasn’t able to form any coherent sentence. All that managed to come out were pathetic whines and moans as he desperately tried to pound into you, looking up at you with widened eyes in hopes you would get the message.
And you did. You understood completely. With a simple kiss on his lips and encouraging words, you let him know that it was okay. “I know, honey, I know.” you said sweetly, “Let go for me.”
He whimpered against you lips when you kissed him, hearing your words made him feel a bit more at ease as he felt himself just on the brink of losing all control he had left. But he couldn’t help the way you were making him feel. With his mind beginning to cloud and the desperate movements he made, he finally felt himself release deep inside you, burying his face in your neck as he came. You slowed down your pace a bit as you guided him through his high, trying to make it last as long as possible for him as he just gripped and thrusted into you harder. Near sobs began spilling from his lips as he clung onto your limbs, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths as his body was practically vibrating.
He hadn't meant to be this much of a mess, completely falling apart from underneath you as he chased his high so desperately. But with how unbelievable you made him feel, it was like he had no control over the noises he made t or the emotions he felt. Like you had complete control. And he loved it more than he was willing to admit.
It took him a while to come back down to earth, but you waited patiently the whole time, running your fingers through his tangled mess of hair as he collected his hazy thoughts. Though he couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed and a bit vulnerable, knowing he didn’t last as long as he would’ve hoped. When he finally gathered the courage to look you in the eye, he feared your reaction, as if he expected you to regret what just happened.
But instead you smiled, “You okay?” you asked gently.
All he managed was a small nod in response, letting out a breath as it was clear you weren’t upset in the slightest. But as his mind wandered a bit, he began to feel selfish, realizing he couldn’t make you feel as good as you made him feel. Leaving him overthinking the things he could’ve done differently.
“I’m sorry.” he then whispered gravely.
Your brows furrowed a little in concern, “For what?”
He blushed a bit with embarrassment, almost not wanting to explain his reasoning for speaking up in the first place. But your gaze remained expectant, and he knew he should answer. “For not…makin ya feel good.” he said sheepishly.
“Hey…” you said softly as you titled his head up to look at you, “You did make me feel good.”
The truth was you enjoyed yourself, even if you didn’t finish, you didn’t care. He was still new at this, and that wasn’t something you were about to shame him for.
He grew a little surprised at your admission, “But…you didn’t…” he trailed off, almost not wanting to say it out loud.
You smiled a little at his lack of words, “It was your first time, Daryl. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” you said, kissing his cheek reassuringly.
He sighed, “I know…but I wanna make ya feel good too.” he tried to explain.
“You will,” you nodded, “Practice makes perfect, right?” you said with a small wink.
He perked right up at that, the idea of doing this again with you hadn’t even crossed his mind. He assumed it would only be a one time thing, but hearing you say that sent a spark of excitement through him.
“So…there’ll be a next time?” he asked, trying to hide his hopefulness.
You laughed softly, “Only if you want there to be.”
He quickly nodded, he would have to be an absolute fool to say no to something like that. “Course I do…I want ya…as many times as you’ll let me have ya.”
Your smile widened as you leaned in to kiss him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to bring him flush against you. He groaned softly as his hands danced across your back, suddenly feeling very grateful. He almost couldn’t believe someone as kind and understanding would actually want him, but he couldn’t bring himself to question it for very long. Just simply wanting to live in the moment and not take it for granted.
“Wanna go again?” you asked against his lips.
“Mhm.” he hummed immediately as he deepened the kiss, his response not having any hint of hesitation. It made you laugh softly, feeling him already getting excited all over again. It was safe to say it was going to be an eventful night.
~ Thanks for reading!
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kckt88 · 1 day
Text
A Heartbeat Between Us V
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Summary:
Y.N moves in with Aemond, however he has trouble dealing with his jealousy as Y.N grows closer to Aegon.
Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Fluff, Swearing, Jealousy, Insecurity, Miscommunication, Kissing, Semi Public Sex, P in V, Oral Sex (M Recieving).
AEMOND x Y.N
Word Count: 5576
A.N - I used Zac Gabriel as the face claim for Daeron.
A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)
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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.
Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood
Aemond was almost regretting his suggestion of going baby shopping the moment he stepped foot into the nursery store.
Rows and rows of items surrounded him, none of which he recognized apart from the basics: a cot, a pram and a changing table.
But what was all this other stuff? As he stood there, utterly bewildered, he picked up an odd-looking contraption with tubes and some kind of cup attached. His brow furrowed in confusion as he turned it over in his hands.
"What the hell is this?" he muttered, more to himself than to anyone in particular.
Y.N. appeared beside him and gave him an amused smile. “That’s a breast pump,” she explained, gently taking it from him.
Aemond blinked. "Are you going to-breastfeed?"
Y.N. nodded. “I’ll give it a try. I read in one of those baby books that I can eventually express milk so you can help with feeds if you want.”
He gave a quick nod, relief washing over him. That, at least, made sense. He would be involved in every aspect of their baby's life, even the late-night feedings.
They continued walking through the aisles, moving past shelves lined with more creams, lotions, and baby products than Aemond had ever seen in his life.
“Babies have really sensitive skin,” Y.N. explained, picking up a tub of lotion and reading the label. “We’ll have to be careful with what we buy for them.”
Aemond was still trying to make sense of the endless products when Y.N. casually mentioned, “I’m thinking I’ll have to put the cot in my room, at least for now. My flat doesn’t have a spare room, so I’ll probably look for a bigger place when the baby gets a bit older-”
Without thinking, Aemond blurted out, “-You could come live with me.”
Y.N. stopped, turning to him in surprise.
He shifted awkwardly, realizing how fast he’d said it, but he pressed on. “-I have the room, and I could help more with the baby. I don’t want to miss out on anything-and it just makes sense, doesn’t it? I mean, we’re having a child together, and I-I want you to feel supported. I want to be there for everything.”
Aemond started rambling, listing reason after reason, but Y.N. interrupted him with a soft smile, placing her hand on his arm.
"I'd like that," she said quietly, "-as long as I can contribute toward the bills. I won’t let you pay for everything."
A wave of relief and happiness washed over him, and he agreed, already picturing them as a family in his penthouse. His focus shifted when he spotted something on a nearby shelf.
A cot mobile, but not just any mobile—this one had tiny, intricately designed dragons hanging from it. He wound it up, and a soft, gentle lullaby began playing as the dragons turned lazily in the air.
Aemond smiled, his eyes lighting up. “I’ve always liked dragons,” he said, nostalgia filling his voice.
Y.N. smiled, too, remembering how his notebooks in school had been covered in his dragon sketches. “I remember.”
“This one,” Aemond said decisively, picking up the boxed version of the mobile. “This is the one I want for our baby.”
Y.N. nodded, touched by his excitement. It was clear how much this meant to him.
As he cradled the box in his hands, she smiled at him, already imagining their baby lying beneath the mobile, lulled to sleep by the soft music and the gentle movement of the dragons.
"Do you know what kind of pram you want?" Aemond asked, trying to sound knowledgeable but still feeling a little out of his depth.
Y.N. chuckled, taking his hand. “I’ve seen a few possibilities. Come on, I’ll show you.”
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Aemond had practically marshalled his siblings into helping with Y.N.'s move, each of them assigned specific tasks.
The moving process was well underway, and he was determined that Y.N. wouldn’t lift a finger—especially not anything heavier than a pillow.
So, while Aegon, Daeron, and Aemond handled the heavy lifting, Y.N. and Helaena sat on the floor of her now almost-empty bedroom, packing the last of her things into boxes.
“Honestly, Aemond, I can carry other things,” Y.N. protested as she folded some clothes into a box.
“Absolutely not,” Aemond replied from across the room.
Helaena snickered, helping Y.N. close a box. “He’s being protective. Just let him.”
Y.N. shook her head fondly, turning back to Helaena. “Men.”
Meanwhile, Aegon, ever the opportunist, had loudly volunteered to help with the bedroom packing.
“I’ll handle the personal items!” he announced with a smirk, only to be met with a swift slap on the back of the head from Aemond.
“Go help move the boxes that are already packed and sealed” Aemond ordered, sending Aegon out of the room with a scowl.
Y.N. had already arranged for most of her furniture to go into storage, having decided that she didn’t need much in the way of bulky items.
There was only one exception: her grandfather's beloved armchair. The old, worn chair didn’t match Aemond’s sleek black-and-white decor at all, but Y.N. had insisted on bringing it with her.
Aemond had stood his ground, but when she tied him up in bed and kept edging him during sex, bringing him to the brink of his orgasm as she rode him only to stop, and after four times of being denied the chance to come he caved in, only for him to end up a begging moaning mess as Y.N overstimulated him.
Now, as Daeron worked through her collection of books and DVDs, he raised an eyebrow at what he found.
“She’s got a lot of horror here,” he remarked, flipping through a few titles. “She seriously likes this stuff?”
Aemond, overhearing, glanced over. “It’s her favourite genre. She’s obsessed with creature features and disaster movies, too.”
“Creature features?” Daeron asked, confused.
“You know, movies with killer sharks or giant, man-eating animals,” Aemond replied nonchalantly.
Daeron laughed, shaking his head. “She’s has weird taste-” he teased, only for his eyes to widen when he pulled out a book from a box. “Oh, hello. What’s this? Fifty Shades of—"
Before Daeron could finish, Aemond snatched the book from his hands. “Fifty Shades of Shite, that’s what,” Aemond grumbled. “Now stop messing around and pack.”
Daeron mock saluted him. “Yes, sir.”
Aemond then made his way to check on Aegon, who had unsurprisingly gotten distracted. His elder brother was rifling through a stack of old letters, his face a picture of mischief.
“What the hell are you doing?” Aemond snapped.
“Found some letters-” Aegon replied, waving one around. “-From Jace”
Aemond frowned deeply, but there was a gnawing sense of curiosity that led him to take a glance over Aegon’s shoulder.
Sure enough, Jace’s love-sick declarations and desperate apologies were scrawled across the pages.
Aemond’s scowl deepened, but despite the irritation boiling inside him, he said, “Just put them back. It’s not our business.”
Aegon, with a dramatic sigh, pretended to comply, but when Aemond wasn’t looking, he tossed the letters into the bin.
“So long, Jace, you fucking idiot,” Aegon muttered under his breath.
When Aemond went back to the bedroom, he found Y.N. and Helaena laughing together, nearly finished with the last of the packing. Y.N. was holding up a small box of condoms, grinning.
“Well,” she chuckled, “I guess we won’t be needing these anymore.”
Before Aemond could respond, Aegon’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Hey, I could use them! Saves me buying more.”
Y.N., completely unbothered, shrugged and tossed the box in his direction. “-I didn’t know you was seeing anyone.”
Aegon caught the box and smirked. “Not currently. But I do have my eye on someone,” he replied smugly. “Just a matter of time before she’s mine.”
Y.N. raised an eyebrow but didn’t press, going back to emptying her drawers.
Meanwhile, Aemond shot his brother a warning glare as Aegon winked suggestively at him, making his blood boil.
“Touch her, and I’ll kill you,” Aemond whispered to Aegon, to which his brother only grinned wider.
Y.N, oblivious to the tension between the brothers, finished packing her things and stood up, hands on her hips.
“Well, I think that’s everything. Let’s get the last boxes out, and then we can head over to the penthouse.”
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As Y.N. looked around the penthouse, trying to get her bearings amidst the chaos of moving, she realized something was off.
"Aemond, where are all my things?" she asked, her voice tentative.
Aemond glanced up from the hallway, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “They’re in the other spare room,” he said casually, not catching the subtle shift in her expression.
Y.N.’s face fell. “Oh, s-so-I won’t be sharing your room?” she asked, her voice tight with a hint of disappointment.
Aemond, now noticing the change in her mood, looked confused. "I just assumed that you’d want your own space," he replied cautiously. "You know, somewhere you could have to yourself if you ever needed it."
Y.N. forced a smile, though her chest tightened. "N-No, it’s fine, I-I understand," she said quietly before slipping away down the hall and shutting herself into the spare room.
The click of the door felt like a punch to Aemond’s gut.
Aegon, who had been lounging on the couch, shot his brother a look of disbelief. “Well, aren’t you a fucking moron,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Daeron, standing nearby, chimed in with a frown. “You’re in love with her, she’s pregnant with your kid, and you ask her to move in, only to stick her in the spare room? What were you thinking?”
Helaena crossed her arms, giving Aemond a pointed look. “You need to fix this, and fast.” She shoved him gently towards the door.
Aemond swallowed, his stomach churning with guilt as he approached the spare room.
He knocked softly, and after a long moment, he heard her voice call from inside. “Come in.”
Aemond slipped inside, shutting the door gently behind him. Y.N. was sitting on the bed, surrounded by boxes, her eyes red as if she’d been fighting back tears. His heart sank, and he immediately knelt down in front of her, resting his hands on her knees.
“I’m so sorry,” Aemond said earnestly. “I should have talked to you first. I shouldn’t have just assumed anything.”
Y.N. gave him a small smile, but her eyes betrayed her hurt. “It’s okay. I understand.”
Aemond shook his head. “No, it’s not. I-I’ve never really lived with anyone before, not like this-” he confessed, his voice soft. “-As an adult, it’s all new to me. With Alys-she would only stay over every so often, but we never lived together. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”
Y.N.’s gaze softened as he spoke, her hand moving to cup his face gently. “I get that, Aemond. But it still hurt.”
He closed his eye, leaning into her touch. “I just wanted to make sure you were happy,” he murmured. “Of course, I want you in my bed every night, but I thought you might want a space to call your own. Where you can work on your art or-get away from me when I inevitably annoy you.” He smirked slightly at his own words, but his eyes were full of sincerity.
Y.N. smiled at that, her thumb brushing over his scared cheek. “Can I?” she asked hesitantly, motioning towards his eyepatch.
Aemond nodded, and she carefully slid the patch from his face, revealing his sapphire eye. Y.N. smiled softly, gazing at him. “There. Now I can see you,” she whispered.
The tenderness in her voice, the warmth of her touch—it was more than Aemond could take. He surged forward, capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss.
His hands slid up her thighs to her waist, pushing her back gently until she was lying on the bed, her body sinking into the soft mattress.
The boxes around them were pushed aside, some tumbling onto the floor with a thud, but neither of them cared.
“I want you,” Aemond groaned into her mouth, his voice low and rough with desire.
Y.N. gasped, her breath shaky. “Your brothers and your sister-are here.”
Aemond smirked, his lips brushing against her neck. “We’d better be quiet then,” he teased, his fingers already working to pull her clothes off, his need for her growing with every passing second.
He peeled off his own shirt and lowered his trousers and boxers just enough to free his already hard cock.
Y.N audibly gasped when she felt Aemond’s fingers rubbing her folds.
“O-Oh Aemond” exclaimed Y.N as he slipped a finger inside her, his movements slow and deliberate.
“Always so warm-so wet for me” muttered Aemond as he added another finger, making sure to use his thumb, sweeping it against her pearl.
“I don’t want to wait-please-Aemond take me” whispered Y.N, as she wrapped her legs around Aemond’s waist, holding him as close as she could.
Aemond took his cock in hand, running the head along her warm wet folds, before he pressed inside her, inching forward slowly.
“So beautiful, swollen with my child” whispered Aemond.
“P-Please Aemond” whimpered Vaeda.
Aemond began to move with a slow, deep grinding. His movements deliberate and calculated.
“Gods be good,” panted Y.N.
“Fuck. You were made for me. You were made to fit my cock in this sweet cunt of yours.” breathed Aemond as he increased the pace of this thrusts.
“A-Aemond. Please.” exclaimed Y.N as she brought her hands up to his shoulders, clinging to him as his thrusts shift her up and down the bed.
Aemond makes a strangled sort of sound and lowers himself onto Y.N even more, kissing her passionately.
His hips rolling against hers, his cock thrusting in and out.
Y.N kissed him back, threading her fingers through his long silky hair, her nails scraping against his scalp, just the way he likes it.
“Mine” muttered Aemond.
Y.N could feel herself clenching around him as his cock keeps hitting the same spot inside her.
“Ooo Aemond-f-faster. P-please”
Aemond lets out a loud groan as he begins to move faster pounding into her, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing around the room.
“Aemond-Aemond-”
“You’re so fucking perfect-come-come for me” growls Aemond.
“Y-Yes., Aemond” moaned Y.N squirming, the heat shooting across her abdomen as her pleasure peaks, and she explodes, her cunt tightening around Aemond.
Aemond lets out a long low groan, his movements becoming erratic. His cock throbbing as he spills inside her.
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Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena were sprawled out on the sofa in Aemond’s penthouse, waiting for any sign of their brother.
Daeron leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a curious expression on his face. “Do you think he’s apologized yet?”
Aegon snickered, shaking his head with amusement. “If the sound of the headboard banging against the wall wasn’t enough of an indication, then our brother’s groaning sure was,” he said with a laugh, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Just then, the bedroom door creaked open, and Aemond stepped out, looking a little dishevelled.
He was shirtless, wearing only his jeans, his long silver hair was a tousled mess, and his cheeks tinged pink with exertion. Aegon immediately started snickering again, earning a scowl from Aemond.
Helaena raised an eyebrow, stifling a laugh of her own. “Is Y.N. going to join us?” she asked innocently, though the amused glint in her eye didn’t go unnoticed.
Aemond rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s, uh-sleeping,” he replied, trying to sound casual.
Daeron’s eyes widened dramatically. “Sleeping? What did you do to her?”
Aegon let out a loud cackle. “Oh, I think we all heard what he did to her,” he said with a teasing grin, leaning back on the couch as if thoroughly entertained by the whole situation.
Aemond shot him a glare. “Shut up, Aegon.”
Still grinning, Aegon shrugged. “Hey, no judgment. Just, you know-it was loud.”
Aemond sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “It’s probably best if you all leave” he said, attempting to regain his composure. “Thanks for your help today, but I think we’ll have to rearrange game night-”
Helaena smiled as she stood up, gathering her things. “You’re welcome, Aemond”.
“Fine, but you’re buying the beer next game night.” Aegon quipped with a smirk as he got to his feet.
Aemond rolled his eye but nodded. “Fine, I’ll buy the beer.”
As Daeron grabbed his jacket, he couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “Bet Y.N. sleeps well tonight-”
Aemond shot him a final look of warning before quickly ushering all three of them toward the door.
“Out. All of you,” he commanded, though the faint smile on his lips showed he wasn’t truly angry.
As they left the penthouse, Aegon couldn’t resist one last comment, leaning back to shout, “Next time, at least soundproof the walls!”
The door slammed behind them, and Aemond leaned against it, exhaling deeply. Peace and quiet at last.
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Aemond couldn't help but think that asking Y.N. to move in with him was one of the best decisions he'd ever made.
Life with her was everything he hadn't realized he'd been missing. They settled into an easy rhythm—taking turns cooking, sharing quiet evenings together, and every night, he found himself tangled in bed with her, relishing the warmth and intimacy that had quickly become second nature to them both.
What Aemond liked most, though, was watching Y.N. work. She had claimed a small corner of the penthouse, transforming it into her personal workspace.
All her materials were meticulously arranged—paints, brushes, restoration tools—and her attention to detail was astonishing. He found himself mesmerized by the faces she made when she was deep in concentration.
But more than anything, what drove him wild was as her pregnancy progressed, she often got quite warm, so she would often wear shorts and a sports bra whilst working from home.
The sight of her growing belly made him ache with desire and he spent his nights with his head between her thighs before he made love to her.
He was bursting with pride when she completed the restoration of a statue for the museum and watching her meticulously package up the finished piece, her smile radiant with accomplishment, was a memory he knew he’d never forget.
When she received an invite to the unveiling and insisted that he join her, he agreed without hesitation.
The night of the unveiling, Y.N. looked breathtaking. Her floor-length dress hugged her in all the right places, accentuating her swollen belly and ample curves. Aemond couldn’t take his eye off her the entire evening.
She was in her element, accepting praise and accolades for her work with grace and humility, glowing in the spotlight she so deserved. His heart swelled with pride every time someone came up to compliment her on the restoration.
Of course, the press had been there, snapping photos and recording every moment. It didn’t take long for the word to spread: Aemond Targaryen has not only moved on from Alys Rivers but is also expecting a child with someone new.
 He had known it was inevitable, but he thanked the gods they’d managed to keep it quiet for as long as they had.
Y.N. had handled the attention well, her smile never faltering, though Aemond could sense her relief when they finally made their way back home that night.
Now, with the unveiling behind them, his thoughts turned to their upcoming 20-week scan. He was counting down the days with barely contained excitement.
Soon, they’d find out the gender of the baby, and Aemond could finally start working on the nursery, something he’d been quietly planning in his mind for weeks.
The thought of preparing a space for their child filled him with a warmth that was both unfamiliar and exhilarating.
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Aemond and Y.N. attended the 20-week scan with excitement buzzing between them. As Marie, moved the probe over Y.N.'s belly, the room filled with the rhythmic sound of their baby’s heartbeat.
Aemond held Y.N.'s hand tightly, his eye fixed on the monitor, watching in awe as their child appeared in crisp black and white. Everything looked perfect.
When Marie asked if they wanted to know the baby’s gender, Y.N. hesitated for a moment before saying, "Could you write it down and give it to Aemond?" Marie smiled knowingly and handed Aemond an envelope, now containing the secret of their baby's gender.
With the knowledge safely tucked away in his pocket, Aemond's mind quickly shifted to the nursery.
As soon as they got home, he began putting his plans into action.
He forbade Y.N. from stepping foot inside the room and told her the nursery would be a surprise. Soon after, various pieces of furniture were delivered—a cot, a changing table, and everything else they’d need.
To put everything together, Aemond enlisted the help of Aegon and Daeron, which turned into a comical disaster. As Y.N. sat in the living room, she could hear them bickering and swearing through the closed door.
At least twice, she heard Aemond threaten to kill Aegon, which was quickly followed by laughter and the unmistakable clinking of beer bottles.
The constant back and forth amused her—at least it sounded like they were having a good time.
Once the furniture was set up, she made a meal for them all, something hearty to thank them for their efforts.
 When the brothers emerged from the nursery, sweaty but satisfied, Aegon and Daeron couldn't stop smirking and elbowing each other as they watched Aemond gravitate toward Y.N.
He stood behind her, hands resting on her bump as she dished up the food, his eye soft and full of affection.
"Man, he’s totally whipped," Aegon muttered to Daeron, who snickered in agreement.
They couldn’t understand why Aemond hadn’t told Y.N. he was in love with her yet. Or even why he hadn’t asked her to officially be his girlfriend.
Aegon, never one to keep his thoughts to himself, brought it up. “So, bro,” he began, a mischievous glint in his eye, “what’s the deal? Why haven’t you asked Y.N. to be your girlfriend yet? You’re practically married at this point.”
Aemond’s jaw clenched, and at first, he ignored the question, but Aegon kept poking at him, goading him with teasing comments.
Finally, Aemond snapped, “Because I’m too scared, alright?”
His brothers went quiet, surprised by his outburst. Aemond sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his admission.
“I don’t know if she feels the same way. I don’t want to ruin what we have by saying something stupid.”
Aegon and Daeron exchanged a glance, their teasing expressions softening. Aegon, for once, was thoughtful. “You’ve got nothing to be scared of. Look at how she looks at you. I’m pretty sure she’s crazy about you.”
Daeron nodded. “And you’re going to be parents soon. You should tell her how you feel before it drives you mad.”
Aemond knew they were right, but the fear of rejection gnawed at him. What if telling her the truth upset the balance they’d found? He sighed, casting a glance toward the kitchen where Y.N. was laughing softly to herself, completely unaware of the conversation.
One day, he promised himself. One day soon.
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At 30 weeks pregnant, Y.N. had been waiting anxiously to see the nursery Aemond had been working on.
He had kept her out of the room for weeks, insisting that it had to be perfect before she could see it.
But now, standing at the door, Aemond smiled and gently took her hands. “Close your eyes,” he instructed, guiding her carefully into the room.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trusting him completely as he led her forward.
Once they were inside, he took a deep breath. “Okay,” he whispered, “Open-”
Y.N.’s eyes fluttered open, and she gasped. The room was stunning. Cream and soft blue hues covered the walls, and the sunlight from the window illuminated the room in a warm, peaceful glow.
The crib stood proudly, adorned with the dragon mobile, its tiny wings gently swaying in the air. A beautifully crafted changing table was positioned nearby, and resting on it was a knitted blue blanket—Helaena’s handiwork.
“A boy-” Y.N. marvelled, her voice barely above a whisper as she admired every detail. She ran her fingers over the blanket, her heart swelling with love for the baby growing inside her.
Then her eyes caught sight of something—a sheet hanging over a section of the wall above the crib.
“What’s that for?” she asked, curiosity piqued.
Aemond stepped closer, his expression soft but a little nervous. “It’s covering the baby’s name,” he explained, watching her face carefully.
Y.N. looked at him in surprise. “But we haven’t really decided on names yet.”
Aemond smiled sheepishly. “I, uh-I kind of already chose one.”
Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, but before she could say anything else, Aemond reached up and pulled the sheet away from the wall, revealing the name he had picked.
Y.N. took one look and burst into tears.
Aemond’s eyes widened in panic as he immediately wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, holding her close. “I thought—I’m sorry if I got it wrong. I can change it.”
But Y.N. shook her head, burying her face against his chest as she sobbed. “No,” she managed to say between tears, “I love it. I love it so much.”
A wave of relief washed over Aemond, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“Thank the gods,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. Y.N. wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.
She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes still misty but filled with joy.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze drifting back to the wall, where her grandfather’s name was painted in elegant script. “It’s not a traditional Targaryen name though”
Aemond smiled, gently wiping her tears away with his thumb. “So, we break the tradition,” he said softly, his hand resting on her bump. “It’s our choice what to name our son. Besides, we can give him a Targaryen middle name”.
Y.N. placed her hand over his, just as the baby kicked. They both smiled, feeling the life they had created together move beneath their hands.
Aemond chuckled softly. “I think he approves.”
Y.N. laughed, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. “I think he does.”
Aemond looked around the nursery, a sense of satisfaction and pride in his work. “Now all that’s left is to get the pram and some clothes, and we’ll be good to go.”
Y.N. nodded, her heart full as she took in the room again, but mostly she looked at Aemond, marvelling at how lucky she was to be building a family with him.
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Aemond arrived home after an exhausting day, his mind already wandering to Y.N. and the baby.
As he opened the door, his ears picked up on Y.N.'s voice, sounding almost-playful.
"No, Aegon, it's too hard," she said, a teasing edge to her tone.
Aegon groaned. "So? You love it when it’s hard."
Aemond froze, blood boiling in his veins as he heard Y.N. laugh.
"Okay, fine, let's try again, but give me some time to adjust," she responded.
Aemond saw red. Was his brother seriously fucking the mother of his child in his penthouse? Right under his nose? Whilst she was pregnant?
Rage bubbling inside him, Aemond stormed into the living room, heart pounding.
"What the hell is going on here?" he bellowed, fully prepared to murder Aegon with his bare hands.
To his surprise, he found Y.N. sitting cross-legged on the floor with a PlayStation controller in her hand.
Aegon was sprawled on the sofa beside her, also holding a controller, looking completely unbothered by Aemond's entrance.
"We're playing Mortal Kombat, genius," Aegon said with a lazy grin. "What’s got you so worked up?"
Aemond blinked, his fury deflating but still simmering beneath the surface. "What are you doing here, Aegon?" he snapped, irritation lacing his voice.
Aegon shrugged. "Y.N. called me. She was home alone, and wanted some company."
Aemond shot Y.N. a frustrated look. “You could’ve called me. I would’ve come home.”
Y.N. waved him off. “You were busy, Aemond. I didn’t want to bother you.”
Aegon smirked, clearly enjoying the tension between them. “I’ll be heading out anyway,” he said, standing up and stretching. “Got a date with Cerelle Lannister tonight. As much as I’d love to stick around and wind you up further, I’ve got better things to do.”
“Yeah, fuck off” Aemond muttered, earning a chiding look from Y.N.
“Aemond, don’t be rude,” she said, though Aegon laughed it off.
“No worries. I’m used to his mood swings by now.” He leaned over and planted an exaggerated kiss on Y.N.’s head, grinning when Aemond’s face twisted with annoyance.
“Later, you two,” he called over his shoulder, strolling out of the penthouse as if he hadn’t just wound his brother up like a toy.
The door shut with a soft click, leaving Aemond glaring after him.
"I don’t want him alone here with you," Aemond grumbled, still fuming.
Y.N. rolled her eyes and placed the controller down. “Why? It’s just Aegon.”
"You know how my brother is," Aemond said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t trust him.”
“I’m more than capable of handling Aegon," Y.N. shot back, her voice firm.
Aemond sighed. "I never said you weren’t capable. I just—" He paused, realizing how this was coming across. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I’m just trying to protect you, Y.N. That's all."
Y.N. crossed her arms, a look of mild irritation on her face. "Well, it sounds like you're doubting me."
Her moods had been unpredictable lately. One moment, she’d be happy and relaxed, the next, she was crying over something as simple as the wrong pasta brand or getting angry when he suggested healthier meals instead of her craving for fast food.
More than once, she had snapped at him to stay away, only to come to him moments later in tears, asking him to hold her or take her to bed.
As Y.N. gazed up at him from her position on the floor, Aemond braced himself, unsure of which mood she might descend into now.
But instead of another emotional outburst, she surprised him. Y.N. shifted to her knees, her eyes glinting with mischief as her fingers reached for his belt buckle.
Aemond’s breath hitched, his pulse quickening. "Y.N.," he warned, his voice low, but she silenced him with a smirk, undoing his trousers.
Next thing he knew, Y.N’s warm, wet mouth was wrapped around his soft cock.
Aemond put his hand on the back of her head as started to suck his cock and caress his balls.
Soon his cock sprang to life, and Aemond was losing his mind at the sight of her pink lips stretched around his hard length.
Y.N’s tongue ran around the tip – tracing the ridges and licking off that drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.
“Fuck, Y.N!” groaned Aemond as he threaded his fingers through her hair.
Y.N ran the flat of her tongue along Aemond’s length, tracing every hard inch of him.
Aemond’s heart almost stopped when she sucked his stones into her mouth, one at a time.
Her hand moving slowly over the hard length of him.
When Y.N engulfed Aemond’s cock in her mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut.
Y.N was driving him crazy.
Aemond forced himself to open his eyes, he had to watch her sucking his cock. 
“Your taking me so well. Such a good girl” moaned Aemond.
Aemond knew it would push him too far to control, but he did not care. He just had to watch his cock disappear into Y.N’s mouth and see it come back out, shining with her spit.
Her head moving back and forth, her pink lips stretched around him. Oh, it was heaven.
Y.N smiled slightly and began moving faster, also using one of her hands in rhythm with her mouth. 
“It feels so good-” groaned Aemond his hand gripping her hair as he began to fuck her face.
“Hmmm” muttered Y.N as she dug her fingers into the flesh of his arse.
“I’m not going to last-if you carry on” Aemond admitted.
Y.N responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of Aemond’s cock as she could, whilst her other hand gently cupped his balls.
“Shit Y.N! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” shouted Aemond as he exploded.
She took every last drop, swallowing his seed and licking him clean.
When he recovered, Aemond saw Y.N’s self-satisfied smile.
“Was that to your liking?” asked Y.N.
“Y-Yes” gasped Aemond.
“Now can I have a Burger King?”
Aemond who was still dazed from his orgasm simply nodded. Damn that mouth of hers, he thought, his mind still reeling.
As he ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, he couldn’t help but shake his head with a mixture of admiration and disbelief.
He’d come home angry, jealous, ready to fight. Now, he was standing there, utterly undone, with no memory of why he was even frustrated in the first place.
TBC
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four-loose-screws · 2 days
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Hi! I’ve seen people people say that Dimitri speaks in an informal rude manner in Japanese so him being super polite in English is weird changes his character a lot, but I’ve also seen people say the localization is just fine. Could you clear up please? Thank you!
This ask has been in my inbox forever, and I know other ENG/JP bilingual FE fans have weighed in on this topic before. But exploring the nuances of Japanese formal vs. casual speech is always super fun, so I want to share my own thoughts too. There's always a chance there will be more to learn with each new person's input on the same topic. Plus, I discovered some things even I didn't expect! So, I'll still offer everything I have to say!
First, I'll explain the full background this ask is referring to. Japanese has 2 major distinct speaking styles - casual and formal. I was taught to call the formal style "distal" - because it is more about respecting distance in social standing than being formal specifically. But formal is the more common term, so I tend to stick with saying formal most of the time.
The distinction between casual and formal is made with pronoun choice, word choice, and other factors as well, but the fastest way to differentiate the two is to look/ listen for the use of desu and masu at the end of someone's sentences. Formal uses them. Casual drops them. This concept is entirely foreign to English speakers!
Dimitri drops desu and masu most of the time. His "I pronoun" is also ore, and his "you pronoun" is omae - both casual, blunt, and masculine choices. But does speaking casually to most of the cast make him rude?
Short answer is... no, not at all! There's 2 major reasons for this.
Reason #1 - the rules for casual vs. formal speech are a bit different in reality vs. fiction:
Partially, Dimitri speaks casually because he is showing his personality. He's got all those traits most standard FE protagonists share - he's strong, straightforward, and wants to connect directly on a personal level with everyone he meets. He tries to convince several characters that they can speak casually with him, because he sees people as people, and doesn't want social status putting distance between them.
Fictional characters generally speak more in-line with their personality more often, rather than following the socially acceptable speaking rules of the real world. (Though don't get me wrong - casual real Japanese people will speak casually in more circumstances than the average Japanese person.) This is simply the style that Japanese writers largely choose. And I think it is one of the great benefits of Japanese - anyone can start to pick up on a character's personality archetype almost instantly, thanks to their speaking style!
Reason #2 - Dimitri is a prince, making him of high social rank:
Here's the second nuance to this - it is absolutely standard for a superior to talk to their subordinates in casual style.
In modern times, this is shown in the workplace. Bosses and those in other leadership positions will frequently speak casually with the staff in a lower-ranking position than them. The president of the office I now work at is Japanese, and he speaks very casually with me - I have to be formal in response though, because he's at the top!!
But in the past, this would have been a distinction made between lord/ royalty, and those beneath them. Which is the case that is relevant in Fire Emblem's setting.
Dimitri can also speak casually without coming off as rude, because he is one of the highest ranking people across all of Fodlan.
-
Okay, so that's the answer in broad strokes - but let's get a bit more nuanced, go down Dimitri's support partner list, and confirm whether or not he always speaks casually!
Group #1 - Dimitri and the other citizens of Faerghus (8 other Blue Lions + Gilbert)
Dimitri has a multi-layered relationship with all of the other 8 Blue Lions. They are citizens of the country he is a prince of, therefore he is ranked very highly in social standing above them. But they are also his friends, classmates, and later, war allies; placing them on the same social level in that regard. So the way they speak to him comes down to a little bit of column A - personality, and a little bit of column B - which aspect of their relationship with Dimitri they feel is the "main" one.
Gilbert is also here in this category, as another person from Faerghus.
Dedue: Dimitri speaks casually, Dedue speaks formally, as they have a lord/ servant relationship. Dimitri wants Dedue to be a very close friend to him though, and wants Dedue to speak casually with him - this is a major source of tension in their supports. In the end, being able to mutually speak casually with each other and be friends, is a place they may reach one day. With other characters, Dedue speaks casually.
Felix: As royalty above Felix's noble house, Dimitri speaks casually. Felix is Felix, so he speaks casually too. I imagine he sees Dimitri quite literally as more of a wild boar than a human being, much less royalty.
Ashe: Dimitri speaks casually, Ashe speaks formally. However, pretty much the whole point of their supports is Dimitri attempting to get Ashe to speak casually with him.. Ashe tries in earnest to switch, but in the end sticks with speaking formally, otherwise he feels too uncomfortable. His view of Dimitri as his prince is too strong for him to let go and speak casually.
Sylvain: Dimitri speaks casually, and Sylvain speaks casually more often, but actually switches to desu and masu more than once. When a relationship is "in-between" higher/lower social standing and friendship, it's not uncommon for at least one person to switch back and forth between casual and polite speech, depending on which side of the relationship they are appealing to more at the moment. This happens in real life too as people shift from strangers, coworkers, etc. to friends.
Mercedes: They both speak casually. In Mercedes' case, I think she's speaks more in-line with her personality rather than paying attention to social status.
Annette: Both speak casually, but Annette is well aware that there's something a little wrong with that - her father would never let her get away with it if he knew!
Ingrid: Dimitri speaks casually, Ingrid speaks formally. But I think Ingrid speaks formally with everyone.
Gilbert: As you can probably guess based on my comments in Dimitri and Annette's analysis, her father most certainly speaks formally with Dimitri! He is very formal and takes social heirarchy very seriously. Dimitri, as the prince above him in social status, speaks casually.
Group #2 - The other characters at the monastary:
Since the remaining characters are not from Faerghus, Dimitri is not their prince. They'll be more likely to view him through the lens of a different relationship than royalty/ subject.
Catherine is originally from Faerghus yes, but she has cut her ties from her homeland completely to serve Rhea, so she fits into this group now.
Raphael: Both speak casually. I think Raphael treats everyone like a life-long friend!! He at least attaches san or sensei (teacher) to the names of his instructors, but that's about it for formal language for him.
Marianne: Dimitri speaks casually. Marianne speaks formally, as she does with everyone. I think she even attaches san to everyone's name, conveying how much she keeps her distance from people, trying not to form close relationships.
Flayn: Dimitri speaks casually. Flayn speaks formally, as I think she does with everyone.
Hapi: Both speak casually. I think Hapi speaks casually with everyone.
Alois: Now *here's* where things get interesting! At this point, I really thought I would discover that Dimitri speaks casually with everyone. But alas, he does NOT! Dimitri speaks formally with Alois, while Alois speaks casually to him. Why? Well, while Dimitri is a prince, he's also a student at Garreg Mach (in Part 1 of course). In this way, he is below all Garreg Mach staff and professors in social standing. So it makes perfect sense that he'd speak formally and Alois would be casual in this case.
Catherine: Same situation as Dimitri and Alois - as someone who serves as an instructor at Garreg Mach, all students like Dimitri are below her in status at the monastary. So Dimitri speaks formally, and she speaks casually.
Byleth: I left Byleth for last, because while Byleth is a professor at the monastary... Dimitri speaks casually with them. I imagine this has more to do with Byleth being the self insert than anything. Everyone bonds to Byleth on a deep level faster than magnets stick together.
And that's all I can think of to say for now! This is a super fun example of how nuanced Japanese's casual vs. formal language can get, and showcases one of the many reasons why Japanese has such a high barrier of entry for anyone learning it - including young native speakers! You don't get all this desu and masu stuff, until finally you just do.
Let me know if I missed anything, or if anyone has any follow up comments to make!
I apologize it took me so long to respond to this one! Thank you anon, and all readers, for waiting! I hope it helped explain even more of the trickier nuances of Japanese.
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yukurie · 22 hours
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So I had an idea about haunts and ghost territories. Ghosts have haunts and are fairly territorial over them. Danny’s haunt is Amity Park obviously but it extends to more than that: every square inch of the town and every resident that lives in it whether they currently live it in or were born there and moved elsewhere are his and he is very protective, it’s his nature after all, his very obsession is to protect.
Normally multiple ghosts haunting a location is normal, there is a hierarchy and internal logic to how a ghost goes about joining a location to haunt however: when a new ghost is formed or finds a location that calls to them to be their haunt and it’s already haunted the new ghost must find the ghost with the original claim to the location and request to co-haunt it. Usually this is accepted and allowed with a few exceptions of greedy ghosts.
Danny isn’t fully aware of all this however, his living side has been blocking out certain instincts of his ghost half in a mental block he’s unconsciously made to continue having a sense of “normalcy” in his living half of his life. One day a particularly rude and aggressive ghost come through the portal and states that they will take this haunt as their own, Danny as usual excuses himself from the class though those few looking at him (Tucker, Sam, maybe Dash) notice he looked particularly angry (what was that crunch? Why does the corner of his desk look cracked?). As he fights the ghost onlookers notice Phantom is particularly aggressive while fighting this ghost: there’s no quips, every time he talks to the ghost he seems enraged, and he seems to be doing as much as he can to hurt the ghost instead of capturing him as usual. After the fight is over and he disappears (to release the ghost back i to the infinite realms) instead of being gone till another ghost appears (Danny never returned to class), Phantom can be seen floating above one of the tallest buildings for hours observing the town quietly.
Ghosts are ageless, once they pass a small impassable mental barrier is created to separate them from their mortal age to protect their mind from the passage of time, now that more of hi instincts as ghost are no longer being blocked by his living half he is starting to see everyone around him as what they are: children (they will pass on eventually and he’ll be here to guide them gently through it).
Depending on if this is a no one knows au or if Tucker and Sam know it changes from here. If they don’t know: they notice Danny seems to quiet drastically from here, his eyes seem both duller and almost older, he seems to watch everyone almost like an old man would watch a child taking their first steps before snapping back to his normal self. If they do know well they go looking for him and when they find him he’s draped along a balcony of the tallest building in the town in his ghost form watching the town quietly, when they try to question why he didn’t come back and why they heard he was so violent with this ghost he answers vaguely and says something along the lines of “He tried to take whats mine”.
Basically my idea is that some random rude ghost claims they intend to steal his haunt and that breaks down the mental block his living side has created to keep him balanced, now his mind is flickering back and forth between the 14 year old boy who happens to be half dead and the practically immortal ghost who happens to be half alive and who practically reigns over the concept of protection. It also releases just how truly protective he is over his town and everyone connected to it.
Heck if you wanted to you could potentially extend this to dpxdc by making it so that since he practically reigns over the concept of protecting people that everyone who would fall under the titles of “hero, vigilante, or antihero” (basically anyone who does what he does for Amity) and focuses on saving people fall under his banner. A hero saves someone somehow despite being sure they shouldn’t have been able to run that fast or be that strong or stay standing after the damage they took? Danny subconsciously grants them that additional little help they needed to save that person. Maybe batman could notice that occasionally in extremely dire circumstances heroes at seemingly random are able to do things not in their limits that can’t be explained via adrenaline: maybe flash manages to hold up something he isn’t nearly strong enough to even lift an inch, maybe Batman manages to run at a speed just barely under super-speed but definitely over what he knows he’s capable of to save a child from being shot in the head, etc etc
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vigilskeep · 2 days
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wait, Minerva "canonically" has a baby?? i want to know everything!! when how what - how does motherhood change her, pls elaborate, srry if you talked about this before, i just love them so much
she does!! i talk abt this less bc i think its self-indulgent jghsskks and that people are less interested in this, but it’s super fun to think about for me
the baby was a surprise, minerva was kind of being stupid about it lmao because she was being less careful than she might have been in the circle, especially because she’s a warden now so she’s less likely to get pregnant at all, without really thinking through what might happen. (i’m sure our local kinloch hold spirit healer companions both had their field days telling her off for this at some point.) but as soon as it does happen she wants the baby so badly. as a circle mage and then a warden she had never really seriously considered it a possibility for herself, but she loves children, and it’s been so long since she had a real family
it’s zevran’s and zevran is in antiva most of the time. i think she has a weird crisis about whether he’ll want anything to do with a baby, and she would despise for him to come back just out of obligation but also what if he doesn’t come back, and she ends up procrastinating telling him for, like, months. just a stupid amount of time. bc she was born to stress her man out and to give her wardens unnecessary grudges against him because they thought he had obviously chosen not to be here because obviously she would have told him. truly when will his suffering end. anyway he’s thrilled when somebody eventually does him the courtesy of letting him know
the baby’s a boy, she names him duncan, it sparks a whole other argument with alistair that we won’t get into here. he gets nicknamed junior a lot, partly bc he’s duncan jr, partly bc of the ongoing joke that he’s the resident Junior Warden. he was very much raised in warden blue since the cradle. because minerva is so busy and zevran is often away, he’s pretty much collectively raised in vigil’s keep by the awakening squad and whoever else gets added to that trusted inner circle. which works out bc wardens don’t often have kids of their own so they all just kind of... share this one lmao. (and possibly sometimes also oghren and felsi’s kid if they stick around?) it’s velanna who instigates this bc that’s what the dalish do and she’s also literally the only one here who knows what to do with a baby so thank the maker she’s here (minerva’s practised with kids but by nature they don’t have babies in the circle)
i’m so thrilled that spellblade is a crow-themed rogue-like mage subclass bc that’s exactly what i always pictured for duncan jr eventually. he’s a mage, his magic manifests very young, but minerva is very strict abt his studies and it has the unfortunate reverse effect of making getting his dad or nathaniel or sigrun to teach him combat much more fun. it works out really bc his magic having manifested is a tightly kept secret so it’s good for him not to have to rely on it
being a mother kind of changes/crystallises a lot of minerva’s priorities. it’s one thing to say, like, i would like to improve the situation for my fellow mages at some point, or, it sure would be nice to live past a warden’s usual limits. it’s another thing entirely to have a mage child and need to make a world that’s safe for him and live long enough to see it done. it ends up being a key issue of her conflict with the chantry between origins and inquisition because nobody’s quite certain what the rules are. obviously if she were still a circle mage any child of hers would be taken away. but she’s not a circle mage and arguably the chantry has no right to a child born outside of the circle, with no sign yet (as far as anyone outside vigil’s keep knows) of magic. (like i say it manifested younger than normal so this is believable even to those who think he will eventually show.) it definitely exacerbates tensions, shall we say, because obviously they can pry him out of her cold dead hands
he’s probably still only quite young in inquisition. six or seven? somewhere around there, i hate timelines. not sure where he is while minerva and her squad are on their quest, but given the very short list of people she trusts that much, i have to say that the most insane answer is likely: he’s in denerim as a temporary ward of the king. probably the first elven kid to be such
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cryslut · 2 days
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Yandere 6reeze | Headcannons
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「 Venti ~ Xiao ~ Scaramouche ~ Aether ~ Kazuha ~ Heizou 」
- in which you get lucky enough to be trapped in an abandoned building that you decided to explore alone, with no way out, why? you'll find out.
- gender neutral
- modern au, stalking, obsession, unhealthy dynamics, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, potentially ooc
- not proofread so probably grammatical errors 
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↳ Venti
This guy is a sucker for you. When he first laid eyes on you, he couldn't help but follow you around. Using the wind to find your whereabouts. He knew the scent of your perfume like the back of his hand. He knew every detail about you so he used this to his advantage.
Especially when you, decided to go explore an abandoned worn down walmart in your city. No one knew why it's been shut down, you wanted to go find out. Venti following your every move, lurking behind every corner, you being completely oblivious to this as you tended to be all the time.
It was the only way he could get close to you in a public environment after all. Cause it's either this or he watches you sleep, right?
,
You walked aimlessly around the place, seeing the place completely trashed. The cash registers void of any change or bills. The place was dark, you turned the flash light on, the one you actually brought.
You kept hearing noises, but no one was in sight, it began to scare you. Making your way towards where you came in, it was completely blocked off, almost like someone boarded it up. There was no way, maybe you went the wrong way.
You being there for hours until you finally found a way out. That was a lesson from Venti to never go alone. He didn't have to tell you that though, you figured you wouldn't go exploring without a friend ever again. That's all he wanted, was for you to be safe.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
↳ Xiao
This man couldn't bear to ever admit his feelings for you. You two were close friends and almost did everything together. He decided to go exploring with you to an abandoned building.
At some point he completely wandered off and you didn't know where he went so you of course, became very afraid. Until eventually he came back. You didn't know where had gone. You wanted to leave the building after some time, as you two got close to the exit, it was boarded off, completely shutting you two off from getting out and from anyone getting in.
,
"What do we do now? It's completely boarded up?" panic began to settle in, breath hitching. A lump like feeling stuck your throat, "It's okay, I can call Hu Tao, she can come down and help us get out?"
"Are you sure you wanna get her in trouble?" He nods his head at you, he begins to tap on his phone, dialing the very familiar girls number.
Eventually waiting for Hu Tao's arrival for her to rescue you both. It gave Xiao the time to grow closer to you, little did you know that he intentionally did this just so you two would be together longer and alone.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
↳ Scaramouche
You had received word from a friend of a friend that there's an abandoned building with little activity around it so the chances of being caught would be quite low. What you didn't know is that Scaramouche, the man himself, paid off someone to get that knowledge to you just so you would go alone.
You walked through the giant broken down building that was boarded up, it was an old mall that had shut down due to unfortunate circumstances. Scaramouche was following you the whole night, without you even realizing.
,
Until he finally made himself known, playing it off like he wasn't stalking you the whole time, "Weird seeing you here," he says nonchalantly. Your relationship with this man was just somewhat friends, you met him through a close friend, Tartaglia.
You turn around to follow the voice, your gaze meeting a very familiar indigo haired man. You were shocked but somewhat relieved that he was here. The abandoned mall was quite eerie after all, "Oh, hi Scara," you say excitedly.
Scaramouche took note of your tone, inside he was smirking and grinning but he kept a composed expression and remained the same way, "You're all alone in a place like this? I didn't even know you explored abandoned buildings," his voice coming off bratty and stern.
"Yeah, I love exploring. It's one of the many things I do in my free time, not a lot of people know about it I guess now that I think about it," you smile gently at him.
For the remainder of the night. He got closer with you, that's what he wanted. To gain your trust and bond with you more, so that one day, just maybe he could have a chance. But if he didn't, then bad things may just happen to you, or someone else entirely.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
↳ Aether
You never knew that people were disappearing just because of some simple jealousy. Those same people you had spoken to days ago. Aether wanted to help you get your mind off the recent events so he decided to force you to tag along with him to go explore an abandoned building, it wasn't really obvious what it was as it was completely trashed.
When you decided to go on ahead and look at something out of pure excitement, Aether took the opportunity to completely shut you two in the building together. There was only one exit and he just wanted to be alone with you, no matter where you two were.
Keeping you locked up in there for hours with him, talking normally as if nothing were going on until you realize. You two were further from a lot of people so you the smart little cookie that you are, put two and two together, your intuition saying it's in fact, Aether himself doing this.
Once he had realized that his plans had been interrupted, he knocked you out cold. Waking up the next morning in the comfort of your bed, you only thought it was a mere nightmare, nothing more. Aether's cover no longer had been blown.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
↳ Kazuha
He's such a gentleman at heart, so sweet and the most romantic poet you'll ever meet. You were his biggest weakness, he had written so many poems about you, they weren't ordinary though. One day he did write something for you though, sending it your way.
It was an elaborate ruse to get you to go off exploring a place that hadn't been touched in years. He wanted one night with you, and he will have it whether you like it or not. So he sent a sort of letter, a riddle as well. Luring you into an abandoned broken down museum.
Following your every move the whole night. He craved being closer to you. So eventually he sealed off any exit pretty well, just so he could "coincidentally" bump into you and well spend the night with you until he "helped" you two escape the treacherous place.
Since you were so startled by the event itself, due to Kazuha convincing you that someone might've locked you two in there, you were on edge and so paranoid. So he put the idea into your head you should stay a couple days with him just in case anyone was going to try and harm you, and his plan worked so well.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
↳ Heizou
Heizou is a detective so he can easily get away with things, brushing everything off. He's quite the master in psychology so messing with you is no brainer for him. After all, when you're vulnerable in front of him, he gets glimpses of who you are. That being said, through one of these moments and fleeting glimpses, he knew you loved dark and mysterious things, this goes for exploring abandoned buildings.
He discreetly followed you throughout the night of an abandoned warehouse, one he actually recently had the pleasure of solving a mystery of a series of murders in. It was only natural he would follow you here, right? He had to make sure his beloved was safe after all. He didn't let you know once that he was present.
Sneaking and covering tracks was not a difficult task for this man. And you made it easy to trap you inside this building. Heizou is not one for psychological torture but sometimes when he's provoked, he will do something to mess with you, without you ever realizing it. Using the abandoned warehouse, by sealing off the exits to his advantage, it scared you into submission until you finally were able to run out of there, telling yourself you won't visit an abandoned place again, at least not alone.
This was just his simple, fun way of trying to get you to come to him for help. You two were close after all. It's only natural.
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kittenfangirl20 · 3 days
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Deadpool and Wolverine Au
Lucifer couldn't believe it had been six months since Adam had died. He could feel it in the air that something just wasn't right.
He didn't think it would bother him that much, Adam being dead, but turns out it did.
Lucifer didn't know what to do about it. He wronged Adam so badly and now he can never make up for it.
It was when he was a little drunk and talking to Ozzie that he was given the idea.
Lucifer: Say that again?
Ozzie: Apparently there are other universes, like alternate universes. Some with only minor changes and some with major changes.
Lucifer: Oh really?
Ozzie: Yeah.
Lucifer: And, hypothetically of course, how would one go about going to one of these places?
Ozzie gave him a look: Hypothetically? It would be similar to portal travel only with a lot more power. You're not just popping down to the store from the manor you'd be traveling the multiverse.
Lucifer had to try. He had to see if he could find an Adam that was alive.
Being King, he had the most power and was very pleased when it worked.
However, every Adam he found was an angel and wanted nothing to do with him trying to blast him to bits.
Until he found one and he was surprised when the portal opened in Hell.
And there was Adam, as a fallen angel.
Lucifer: Adam?
Adam turned to him, his horns long black and gold. His golden eyes narrowed as he looked at Lucifer.
Adam: The fuck do you want?
*this Adam came from a universe where he actually killed Lucifer during Extermination Day, turns out that was a big no, no and because of that Sera had to make him fall for yet another rule he unknowingly broke, sadly because Charlie wasn’t prepared to become Queen of Hell she was quickly killed in this universe too and Hell became a giant power vacuum where all the Deadly Sins fought for control, Lucifer had been nursing his emotional pain with a giant glass of Beelzejuice when he saw who he never thought he would see again, Lucifer*
Lucifer: I know this is hard to believe, but I am from another universe.
*Adam stood up, after months of fighting for his life in Hell, Adam lost a lot of weight and gained quite a bit of muscle, tattooed on his upper right arm were the words Hell is Forever*
Lucifer: Well see in my universe my Adam was killed in the recent Extermination Day and I have looking for an Adam to replace that one. I think you might be that Adam.
Adam: Fuck no and fuck you.
*Adam punched Lucifer sending him flying across the bar*
Lucifer: You are very mistaken, if anyone is going to be fucked, it will be you my sexy friend.
*the two men got into a fight causing other Sinners and Hellborn to run in fear at the sheer power of both me, Lucifer had to avoid a blast of Hellfire from Adam*
Lucifer: Looks like your Holy Light became Hellfire, very interesting.
*Adam roared flying at Lucifer, this wasn’t going to be easy for Lucifer, but that made things a lot more exciting for him if he was being honest with himself*
@things-arent-what-they-seem66
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pressureplus · 1 day
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HEYA HELLO HI
first, i want to genuinely thank you guys for the account's existence and your hard work. reading through the posts is often the highlight of my bleak days, and im immensely grateful for you providing those moments of joy :]
SECOND UH ID LIKE TO ORDER A SPECIFIC KINDA HEADCANONS LIST IF NO ONE MINDS AND IT HASN'T BEEN WRITTEN ALREADY ALRIGHT YEAH
a nonbinary reader who is pretty similar to Seb's stubborn, independent and sassy persona but WOMP WOMP, they're suddenly head over heels for him. NEITHER WANTS TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE FEELINGS (aka "HE'S FUCKING MARRIED, IT'S NOT MUTUAL AND IM BUSY WITH NOT DYING, BUT I CANT GET HIM OUT OF MY HEAD" & "I HAVE A WIFE AND THEY'RE JUST SOME EXPENDABLE BASTARD, GET OVER IT, SOLACE"). the distracting, unnecessary, painful pining. how do both cope and who's gonna break first? and most importantly, is either gonna throw their ego and rationality out the window to confess despite the fear of looking pathetic?
oooof i hope it's not too much and it's not breaking any rules. thank you in advance if you find it interesting enough for writing! :D
Awww, thanks so much! Although I should make it very clear the wife in question will remain vague and is NOT BASED ON ANYONE! Thanks for the request ❤️
♡Married! Sebastian Solace x NB! Similar! Reader Headcannons♡
Warnings: Sebastian is Married and Y/N is technically an Affair Partner
◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟
He had found you interesting from the moment you opened your mouth and got sassy with him, mostly because most people don't have the balls to do it
Despite finding this slightly irritating, he also found it refreshing, so he didn't immediately shoot you if only for his own entertainment
A terrible mistake he'd soon find out
He developed some definitely unhealthy feelings the first time one of your comebacks had an almost flirtatious undertone
It was an accident on your part, but it got him thinking
He was a married man fawning quietly over you, how awful is that?
I mean of course he’s flashed the wedding band, and of course he's mentioned his wife when others flirt with him, but that doesn't change his feelings
If you flirted with him, would he really reject you?
Could he?
He hadn't known the touch of his wife in years, the softness of her hands, the warmth of her kisses
After everything that's happened he couldn't even remember her name. He should be able to remember his wifes name right?
Does he really even care about her? Does he love her now? Did he love her then?
It comes with an odd sense of guilt he doesn't like to look at. Especially when you do something that makes his heart flutter.
You, on the other hand, probably didn't develop any real feelings until he actually saved your ass.
You'd been running for your life and he’d snatched you up and into the vents, tossing you easily into his shop and shutting it behind you
His gaze transfixed on said vent, a hand on his gun. Something about him choosing to save your life while also putting up with your attitude was a little attractive…
Okay, insanely attractive
Sure, Sebastian’s guilt for being attracted to you is bad, but so is yours
You’re attracted to a married man who has absolutely gushed about his wife in front of you before. Even if it was only because someone tried to get a little flirty, what does that matter?
Honestly the mutual attraction makes it hard for you both to focus
Everything about that man is intoxicating, his smile, his laugh, his attitude. Can you really be judged for this?
Neither of you can focus on anything but each other whenever you’re both in a room.
It’s led to Sebastian getting surprised whenever another person buys something off him because he had no idea anyone else was in here
Its also led to you freaking out whenever one of the other expendable touches your shoulder without you having realized anyone was standing behind you
You hide it well…at least you hope you do?
The longing glances and quiet staring on both sides is unbearable though
Especially considering you’re both making those dolly eyes at each other, batting lashes and daydreaming
It’s cute but it’s also incredibly wrong of you two and you’re painfully aware of it
No amount of sharing food and acting like it’s not a date will make it less of a date
He’s already long since decided that he’s going to offer you come with him so you both can leave together
And though neither of you will have the heart to confess for quite a while, I think he’d do it on your way out. Something about you almost dying when you both escape makes him desperate to tell you how he really feels
When that ‘I think I’m in love with you’ slips out while he’s bandaging your arm that’s been cut by glass, how can you refuse?
Especially when you’re in love with him too?
He’ll toss that ring into the ocean once you reach the surface, his wife never loved him like you did anyway
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demodraws0606 · 3 days
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DRDT CHARACTER THEME PLAYLIST - My Personal Interpretation
Warning : This playlist was deleted by DRDTdev and thus this is mostly meant to be something fun, and also because people have posted a lot of interpretations that I don't agree with (and I've always wanted to make my own).
So a while back DRDTdev made a playlist that they've now deleted, however I've seen a lot of people making their own posts about who fits which song. However since I'm not "like the other girlsTM", i had mixed feelings on how certain songs were assigned.
Some songs will be exactly the same as some other posts, mainly because they make the most sense to me but I do have some interesting shifts here and there that I will try to explain.
However I want to get the obvious ones out of the way first
UNDEAD ENEMY : David Chiem
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I think this one is the most obvious song in the playlist. The song talks about a person who has put on a mask and is miserable trying to addear to the expectations of that mask. There is a lot of pent up frustration and anger in those lyrics which also is very fitting for David.
There is also the hints of something more behind those feelings of hatred, despite how much he's learned to hate the world there's still a sliver of him that still wants genuine companionship.
YESMAN : Nico Hakobyan
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This song already fits Nico purely from the introvert lines. I'm joking, that's not just why I considering Yesman to be Nico's song. This song fits really well with Nico's frustration with being a pushover (or you could say a Yesman) and just how society has always treated them poorly.
The song itself is about being forced to do something, like a boring job, and despite how much hatred you feel you still keep on trying to keep your head low and do what your told. I think all of that really fits Nico's arc and what we know of them so far. Someone who constantly is pushed down by other and has been taught that they need to accept it.
SHUNRAN : Arei Nageishi
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This song could also fit Ace as another aggressive person who just wants companionship but I personally think this song fits Arei way better especially with the beginning line ("I won't pay attention to small fry" has a lot of Arei vibes).
This song fits Arei's desire to want love and the contradiction that comes with her aggressive personality. She feels that it's unfair how life punished her which fits a lot with the line "They say that praying to be loved is a sin" as she was constantly denied that love. The lines as well about your personality slipping and crying reminds me of Arei's breakdown.
Hi-Fi Evolution Theory : Veronika  Grebenshchikova
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This song is very vague but despite that it is 100 pourcent a Veronika song.
I don't fully know what the song means in itself but the lyrics really fit Veronika's issues with boredom and her enjoyement of the killing game. There's a lot of lines about laughing and wanting to be entertained which just goes with her really well with her character.
Cartoons : Rose Lacroix
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Ok, I think I lied when I said Undead Enemy was the most obvious song, THIS is the most obvious song. I don't think there's much analysis to be done to convince anyone that this is would Rose's theme.
This song reflects well Rose's depression and pain surrounding her talent and just how her life turned out in general. It kinda has that dissociative numbness in the lyrics that just fits her really well.
Sing Along : Teruko Tawaki
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This song really fits Teruko extremely well especially her abandonnement issues. The song itself sounds aggressive but it oozes of longing and sadness.
A lot of the lyrics fit her feelings of being betrayed by Xander and Min, people she's gotten close to in a short time but immediatly ended up betraying her. It also fits her feeling towards her brother who ended up leaving her as well.
Now let's take a break and tackle the Instrumental songs !! This is where things start to change from other posts so get ready.
Spitfire (05 Version) : J Rosales
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This one just fits J's vibes quite well. It's aggressive but also isn't too serious or intimidating, it just sounds like something J would listen in the car.
It also just has this...manly energy (?) or punk-ish energy that J has, it fits her rejecting the traditional feminity her mom tried to force on her.
Main Theme, Diamond is Unbreakable : Xander Matthews
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This song is literally Xander vibes and you can fight me on that, it has a very dramatic and grandiose sound (especially when the piano comes in) that just fits how Xander holds himself (as you can see with that pose).
It's the exact type of theme I would expect from someone being the Ultimate Rebel. There's also more actively aggressive parts that I think also fit Xander, as we see he's got a short tamper when his ideologies are challanged and he also just is surprisingly quick to resort to violence.
desk rotation by RQ laji-2: Charles Cuevas
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You can fight me again because you cannot tell this Bill Nye intro ass track doesn't fit Charles. Again it's hard to argue considering assigning instrumental tracks is really just based on vibes however this song really has a huge science show feel to it.
I could imagine hearing it while Charles is doing chemistry stuff or theorizing during the class trial.
Now let's go back to the lyrical songs, and this is where things start to go a bit crazy and I might need to justify myself a bit more.
asymptotic : Min Jeung
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I know Charles is considered the resident nerd guy but you cannot NOT give the song about math puns to Min.
I think this song works really well for Min's relationship with Teruko. It especially reminds me of what Teruko says to Min before she gets excecuted that they "should've never gotten attached to one another".
This song is about a romantic relationship that could never happen, which I think represents Min's own feelings towards Teruko. About how they could've been closer but now they'll always be drifting apart.
How Min in a way sacrificed her life for Teruko but again she'll always be "out of reach". A relationship that could never happen under the killing game's circumstances.
RUNAWAY : Levi Fontana
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I think this song especially with what Levi revealed to us latest episode REALLY fits him.
A song about a person who is repeteadly failling to try and "become better". The lines about "searching" and "tripping" goes in line with Levi's behavior in chapter 2. He's awkwardly trying to reach an ideal of the person he's supposed to be. He wants to be a "good person" but from the day he was born he was completely denied that ideal (aka "Dreams of who i want to be I'm seeing every empty page")
But there is a silver lining to all of this, the lyrics work with the moral of Levi's character. He doesn't need to run away from who he truly is, that what he considers an obstruction to his goal is simply just a part of himself he should accept. He doesn't need to "run away".
tip toes : Hu Jing
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This song already just screams Hu purely from the line "I'm reaching for something more than this feeling of being important". She's a person who wants to protect others, be someone who others can rely on but in part it's very much driven by her own ego.
The lyrics are slightly vague but the parts about her "future" I feel like really gives vibes about how she used to be someone who had givne up on her own life but now is determined to persue it no matter what.
I didn't put this lyric in but "Take this ghost of me with the tide to die" again really feels like it references Hu's past and how she's ashamed of it. The song's lyrics give me a lot of feelings of regret but also determination which I think encapsulate Hu's character well.
Polygonal : Ace Markey
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I've never seen people consider this one for Ace which is really surprising but also not because this song is very vague. Despite that, I do think this song 100 pourcent fits Ace purely because of some lines that really fit neatly with Ace's character.
The repeated mentions of how anyone would want to be loved/have someone to laugh with, it reminds me a lot of how Ace reacted to Levi saying he didn't care if he died. Ace desperately someone to give a shit about him, he'd rather take pity than nothing at all but he's also a self sabotager who drives anyone who gets close away from him.
"Your increasing honesty, I hate that about you" Honestly really feels like it's Ace saying that to Levi ? I wouldn't know fully how to explain it but it just really gives that vibe.
The song also seems to go on about a person's suffering about how their life is "full of failures" which again goes unfortunatly with Ace who seems to just have lived a pretty miserable life. Having only one person he could call a friend, being forced into an Ultimate Talent that both ruined his body and mental health .
Drawing Pins : Arturo Giles
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Ok this one is probably the most farfetched pick, i'd say ? Considering, however, how little we know about Arturo I feel like this song has a lot of room to fit his characters and certain lines already do in multiple ways.
The parts about not being able to fit in, both makes me think of how he's kind of just, openly mocked within the group. However it also really makes me think about Arturo's family, him wanting to distance himself from them and his apparent disdain from them as well.
"Tell me what you did it for" "Cause I can't figure it out" I honestly think those parts really fit well with Arturo's sister committing suicide. He doesn't know why she did it something like that and he refuses to see it as his fault, it haunts him, he can't figure out why she did it because he can't fathom the idea that in reality it truly was because of him.
The "what do i have to do to be loved by you" parts I think are where things get a bit weird. My thought process would be Arturo's feelings towards "pretty people", him becoming obsessed with J because of her mother really makes me think that he's looking out for some kind of validation in a way.
Good grief : Eden Tobisa
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I'm sorry this song is not fucking Whit, it's Eden, y'all can suck it /lh
This song really just fits way to well for me with Eden's feelings about Arei (weither she's the culprit or not even if I don't think she is anymore). The entire of the trial of chapter 2, Eden is struggling with the fact that she lost Arei and what could have been. This song really makes me think about how she tells David that she "knows she's dead and that she's never coming back". The slight upbeat-ness of the song really fits as well with Eden's attempt to try and stay cheerful despite how sad she feels.
I think Arei's death will be a very big sticking point in Eden's character.
Also the time motif with "Every minute and every hour" just fits way too good for it to be ignored.
In terms of other lyrics, I agree some of them fit Whit a bit but there are certain things that click way too well with Eden (and also none of the other songs fit Eden at all). I mean Eden's secret quote literally is "You can't go back no matter how hard you try" so clearly her character is heavily tied with grief as well.
"If you want to be a party animal, you have to learn to live in the jungle...." Really feels to me like Eden having to learn to be stronger and stop blaming herself ? It really just sounds like advice that would be given to someone like Eden who wants to be upbeat and confident but just simply is too prone to be insecure.
"Get drunk, call me a fool. Put me in my place" Again those lyrics really just feel like they fit Arei and Eden's relationship. Arei calling Eden a "fool" and "putting her in her place", it just ends up really matching perfectly in my opinion.
Mistaken Belief of Love : Whit Young
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AHAH ! You have fallen into my trap of this post actually being secretly propaganda about how "Mistaken Belief of Love" really fits what's hinted about Whit's character so far !!!
Yeah, no, this song really does not make sense with anyone else other than Whit ? Both the lyrics and vibes do not match with anyone. The song's whole thing is about "love" and Whit's a fucking matchmaker, thematically it just fits like a puzzle piece. Not only that but Whit's whole thing (that actually hasn't rlly appeared in the series itself all that often) is that he seems to not be able to find love himself and is doomed to be single. It reinforces this idea that, yeah Whit's song would be about love in some way or another (I talk about love in general, this song is not a love song despite what you'd think)
It also works really well with Whit's secret quote being "We often idolize the dead" meaning Whit probably saw his mother as someone she wasn't. Perhaps she was abusive or neglectful, or she hid something from him that truly shows that she may not have cared about him at all.
There are also lines that just fit Whit really well like the "deception, boasting, saying "I openly laughed at it"", just really gives giant Whit vibes for me ? Same with the mention of "peekaboo" since we know Whit kinda holds on to childish things like that (his socks, the fact he uses fruity shampoo for kids).
Anyways, this was mostly for fun and also because I desperatly to make my own list because I had some Hot Takes Tm.
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cheesus-doodles · 2 days
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i was thinking about a fluffy sleepover with bf kazutora…he’s so cute
happy birthday tory!! also no kazutora bday goods??
Masterlist
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With BFF Kazutora, even if he isn't yandere (in my opinion, that would be a miracle in itself), think extremely, extremely clingy. But let's say it froze in hell and this is normal non-yandere BFF Kazutora.
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12 years past Kazutora would be absolutely delighted by your suggestion of a sleepover at your place. Yes sure, he had been in your bedroom multiple times before, this boy has even napped and cuddled with you previously. It's not even his first sleepover - you're his bestfriend, no doubt Kazutora has already spent countless nights over at your place, be it whether he just doesn't want to go home or for convenience.
When he turns up with snacks, you already have his set of favorite matching PJs ready for him to change into after he showers (of course you do), and there's definitely some kind of routine the two of you always follow when it comes to sleepovers.
First off, shower and change. Then right after, it's TV time. Always TV time.
The two of you will line an area of the floor of your room with pillows and plushies to make a comfy fort, following which you will put on whatever show it is you want to watch. You get to watch one show, and then Kazutora gets to pick one, and the two of you would be happy to eat snacks and sip on hot chocolate in silence. This Toman delinquent will always swear up and down that the hot chocolate you make is unbeatable, so every sleepover now includes one (1) mandatory cup (if not he will cry and say you hate him).
After that, if there is homework to be done for the next day, you will usually work with Tory to get that sorted out. But be it whether there is or isn't, during this time is usually when you two start chatting about whatever it is that happened during the day. Neither you nor Kazutora ever keep secrets from each other, so even though you disapprove of him getting into fights, the yellow and black haired boy will still tell you about all the fights he got into that day, and in return, you will tell him about your classes and the freshest classroom gossip.
Finally, the last step before actually going to sleep always has to be pillow fight. It will always start out of nowhere, with sometimes you ambushing Kazutora with a whack to the back of his head as he is returning to your room from the bathroom, and other times Tory taking it upon himself to end homework time prematurely by smothering you with a giant plush.
And you two don't pull any punches when it comes to pillow fights. Free-for-all, the two of you hurling plushies and pillows at each other from across the room, giggling and laughing as you tried to dodge the missile aimed straight for you from the other and vice versa.
Kazutora always sleeps in your bed. This boy won't be sleeping anywhere else but right next to you in the same bed. Suggesting other alternatives will only earn you the kicked puppy look and a huge crying tantrum if the former doesn't work, the whole yard. Contrary to popular belief, this boy is actually super fussy about where he sleeps, the type of bed and pillows he likes etc, everything you, as his bestfriend, would already know.
So you always makes sure to fluff up his pillow, tuck him in and give him a kiss on his forehead before you snuggle in yourself, and the minutes left before you fall asleep would be spent reassuring this poor boy that yes you really were his bestfriend, and that no, you didn't plan on breaking this friendship ever. Because even if the two of you have been friends for years on end and been through thick and thin together, Kazutora is just simply to insecure to ever believe anyone would want to stick by him.
And this boy can grip. Clamps on to you in his sleep and absolutely will not let go whatsoever, so if he hasn't woken by the time you need to head to school, you can forget about it.
12 years Timeskip Kazutora is a lot more mentally stable and confident in his relationships, but that doesn't mean that he is any less attached at the hip when it comes to you. Still loves sleepovers as much as he did as a kid, and takes every opportunity to do so whenever your schedule permits (because let's be real, you were the more responsible of the two and had a real, grown-up job). Sometimes its arranged, sometimes its impromptu when Kazutora feels the urge to, and he would just roll up and stroll in like he owns the place, if he didn't already all but move in with you.
Any sleepover still follows the same exact steps as twelve years prior, and he still has a favorite set of sleepover PJs that matches with yours. Though you were usually more than happy to accommodate your Tory, he isn't exactly the person with the best habits, and you sometimes find yourself having to take the next day off work because you had a sudden sleepover sprung on you.
A walking radiator who prefers to sleep shirtless, still loves to snuggle with you and his sleep habit of clamping on to you and never letting go has not let up, which is one of the main reasons you try to dodge weekday sleepovers. Kazutora is the ultimate enabler though, encouraging you to take the time off and spend the time with him, and usually has to be disciplined with a (loving) smack to the back of his head.
Still will cry if he doesn't get his hot chocolate or you don't tuck him in and kiss him on the forehead, so this boy never really did grow up much.
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bloop-bl00p · 2 days
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Alastor could have been Native American
Before anyone screams racism, removal of representation, or whatever I redirect you to my post about the Voodoo representation of the show.
→ HERE ←
First thing first, Alastor is not a Wendigo but his cannibalism aspect led to fans believing the contrary, a belief that was pushed further with him being a deer. Wendigoes aren’t related to deer at all, they mostly look like men who are visibly starved and all. The deer thing came from pop culture.
Now you’re gonna ask..
“You’re all for representing properly religion and culture why would you want him to be American Indian if he’s not a proper wendigo?”
He could be a skinwalker with small elements of wendigo.
Here’s a small rewrite
It’s not related to Hell’s Safe Haven, I’ll be doing something different, feel free to take the idea for your oc if you want. But remember, Always do research :)
Why a skinwalker? They are shamans who started as healers but broke taboos from the culture which involve using their ability for harm and curses. If you’re smart then you should see where I’m going with this.
Rather than being an “evil voodoo man” Alastor could have been a shaman who transgressed important rules and became a skinwalker, one of these taboos is murdering a close relative to align with darker powers which pretty much fits for Alastor. Obliviously, you don’t villainize the whole culture, you can still show that shamanism, when not perverted by skinwalkers, can do good. Alastor’s mother could have also been a shaman and went to Heaven.
He could still have been a serial killer, stalking and learning the routine of his victims before killing them. Then he could have died in the snow because hunters noticed his activities in the forest, thanks to their dogs smelling the putrid flesh of the bodies he was carrying around, and then he got shot. Or you can have it that he managed to escape but got lost and had to eat part of the corpse he managed to get with him, but he also had to use their skin to not try and protect himself from the cold in vain partially linking him to Wendigoes.
In Hell, he could have looked like a starved disturbing-looking deer, starved because of wendigos and deer because that’s the animals he favored the most to lure people. In terms of powers, he could have the ability to reproduce people's voices through electronics mainly using radios to do so. A cool detail could be that these voices sound slightly disturbing and fake.
He completely took a more charming and refined aesthetic once in Hell to appeal to and manipulate others more easily. Skinwalkers are described as carrying bones I guess that could help for a possible redesign. Since his appearance is quite scary he could wear a hat to hide his face.
The actual critic
This is really a surface-level thing, it's a first draft based on Wikipedia, but you can’t say that it’s not remotely much more cohesive than whatever Viv is doing with Alastor.
This is something that absolutely frustrates me with the Hellaverse, Viv has very surface-level concepts, and she doesn't do enough research to bring them to their potential. It happens with Voodoo, the Goetia, the Seven Deadly Sins, and the whole pantheon of biblical figures.
What she does is she takes these cool ideas and slaps them onto her oc without much thought.
Take an example with Andrealphus, he teaches math and geometry so one of my first thought is to give me space manipulation. This means he can basically change your location in an enclosed space, turn an entire room around, and twist it to his liking. With his knowledge of maths and geometry, he knows what to do specifically to make you land exactly where he wants which makes him extremely hard to fight inside a house, especially if it’s a big place.
He could also completely reshape the laws of geometry and physics, how funny would it be to see that he lives in a small house, not taking much place but then you go outside and discover it’s basically a whole castle? It’s generic but it makes sense and makes places for lots of interesting scenes for fights or just aesthetics.
Vivziepop chose to give him ice power, for some reason. I mean math isn’t really an attractive notion in terms of supernatural abilities but you can still do something interesting with it. Unless his castle is a geometrical wet dream, I don’t see a possible link between the two. It’s a matter of creativity and the willingness to do research to cultivate it, she doesn't have that.
If you just slap very specific labels (like voodoos) on a character without thinking about how it could work for them and affect the world around them (if voodoo works then the Lwas exists), then not only you are not doing your “job” as a writer but you are just doing it for the aesthetic. It’s not wrong to do if it’s mundane things like saying that one character knows how to speak Latin, but in some cases, you gonna have to be careful about what you write in your stories.
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smile-files · 21 hours
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nickel and balloon stuff from spring on the breakfast!!! i'm keeping in mind that in the previous episode, both of them were under the impression that their friendship wasn't real...
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in a way, ii3 balloon is a lot like late ii3 cabby. of course, balloon did something indisputably immoral (manipulate and exploit others), and cabby only did something thought to be immoral (keep and use files about her fellow contestants) -- but both did something wrong and had to subsequently undergo a disproportionate amount of abuse and malignment for it, ending up with them being apologetic and submissive to avoid any chance of being framed as bad again. the biggest difference is that cabby has internalized the guilt others have attributed to her, while balloon largely hasn't -- he understands the concept of rolling with the punches for the sake of keeping good connections, but he doesn't believe he deserves it.
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nickel brushes off ii2 a LOT this episode. to rid himself of his guilt regarding that time, he necessarily has to delegitimize the hatred he felt towards balloon then, thus also ridding balloon of his guilt. he expresses this all vaguely, choosing to remember ii2 fondly and saying off-hand that its baggage should be laughed off -- implying that balloon has been forgiven. reasonably, balloon is happy that nickel seems to actually believe he's changed for the better, so initially this makes him happy.
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of course, though, it becomes clear that nickel just wants to shove his own actions under the rug, and balloon reasonably gets pissed off. nickel treated balloon and suitcase like complete garbage in ii2, and balloon clearly hasn't forgotten that.
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"it keeps things easy." it keeps things easy to roll with the punches, to endure nickel's abuse and accept his sudden friendship. note, also, that nickel is still placing the blame on balloon: he's saying that balloon didn't want to "make things better", as if nickel and balloon ever having a rift was entirely balloon's fault, and his problem to fix.
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and as we can see, nickel still hasn't fully forgiven balloon for ii1. as i've discussed before, nickel seems to secretly feel incredible guilt about how he treated balloon in ii2 (which is why he goes to such lengths to repress the whole memory of it) -- but that guilt is about the way in which he expressed his disdain and distrust of balloon, not those opinions themselves, nor the motivations for them. this is all very interesting, then -- if he still believes balloon can't change from his old, bad self, why did nickel start being friends with him at all?
i think a large part of it is his projection onto balloon. nickel sees himself in balloon: someone who screwed up big-time and isn't able to become a better person after that (according to nickel). we tend to gravitate to people similar to us, after all. i wouldn't be surprised if nickel was also trying to overcompensate for his hostility towards balloon in ii2 by being very friendly with him in ii3, thereby helping him forget that he was ever hostile to him at all.
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the most fascinating thing to me about balloon and nickel's relationship is how impersonal it is for balloon. he seems to value what nickel's affection represents rather than nickel himself -- and it represents that he's been forgiven. anyone who saw balloon and nickel's conflict in ii2, which was a product of balloon's nastiness in ii1 and nickel's subsequent inability to forgive that nastiness, would likely come to accept balloon and forgive him themselves if they then saw nickel being friendly with him -- because nickel is the epitome of the ii contestants' anger at him, and nickel of all people (seemingly) forgiving him would imply that he's really changed. the relationship is almost entirely a symbol in that regard. i don't think balloon has much residual guilt about is actions in ii1 -- he feels like he's adequately addressed them and changed -- but nickel having a positive relationship would be helpful in affirming that stance and proving to himself that he really has changed.
i wouldn't say it's cruel of balloon to keep this relationship going on under that pretense, but it is backhanded, and it helps explain why he was ever willing to accept nickel's friendliness unchallenged. he wanted his crimes to finally be laid to rest once and for all, and keeping nickel on good terms with him would let that happen. people would finally shut up about it. up until now, nickel wasn't explicitly denying his past cruelty towards balloon anyway, so balloon would be able to ignore that he neglected to ever bring it up; now, though, nickel is denying not only what he did to balloon but also to suitcase, which balloon is not able to tolerate. now that he's confronted nickel about that though, nickel snaps back with his condemnation of what balloon did in ii1, thereby uprooting the social stasis balloon had been able to maintain precisely because nickel refused to bring anything up before. in a way, then, balloon is purposefully shoving the past under the rug, just like nickel is.
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we can't forget, though, that nickel has his own complex about fearing that he's incapable of change and incapable of forming positive, genuine relationships with people. balloon is essentially revealing that, in a way, he wasn't really friends with nickel -- at least not in the way nickel wished and fooled himself into thinking they were. if balloon truly were friends with nickel like that, then that would mean that balloon had forgiven him for his cruelty in ii2, and perhaps that he really has changed... but no. balloon hasn't forgiven him. why should he? nickel never apologized -- and given how he never apologized, it's impossible that he could've changed anyway: nickel doesn't want to apologize because that means addressing his guilt and allowing himself to feel it. he wants the forgiveness to be handed to him on a silver platter, without him having to do all of the painful work, and he's incredibly upset when it isn't. he wants to not be a bad person, but in order to do that, he has to feel like one, and he really doesn't want to. he hates who he was and doesn't want to associate with it at all.
(note how it's the suitcase robot who says "you can say sorry" when nickel says that nothing can be done about making things better...)
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there's clearly an immeasurable amount of resentment these two have been harboring for each other throughout this season, which they'd only been hiding for the sake of fooling themselves into thinking they've changed (nickel) or thinking that others think they've changed (balloon). and now that they've let themselves explode with anger, partly related to the lies they'd been telling themselves falling apart, they yell at each other and balloon drops nickel down a hole!
ah, balloon and nickel's relationship... it's bizarre, it's toxic, it's convoluted, it's shady, and it's incredibly sad. i'm glad i'm revisiting ii3, especially this episode -- i used to be utterly baffled by nickel's writing, particularly in spring on the breakfast, but now it makes complete sense to me. also, i used to think balloon was entirely the victim in this relationship, while now i know that he has his own faults and own baggage in that regard. it's weird -- they hate each other, but at the same time they're dying to be liked by one another. god i love these freaks...
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cillyscribbles · 1 day
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my modern!cats au giving me, an avid non-smoker, thoughts about smoking and self image, of all things. i will put them under the cut, but meanwhile! enjoy this 1. shameless illustration of my own fic 2. tugger not quite loving the makeup (or costuming) of his poet-murderer role. (yes a local staging of roberto zucco changed my life, very nice of you to ask!)
so smoking bad etc etc don't smoke. anyway, all three brothers deuteronomy smoke, or at least have smoked for large chunks of their lives, albeit for wildly different reasons and standpoints.
munkustrap's been smoking since middle school, his start more or less aligning with the time period when old deuteronomy falls sick, grizabella ramps up her work, and munkustrap, at the ripe old age of maybe 14, starts managing the household and finances and whatnot.
he wishes he'd never started smoking, don't get me wrong. he wishes the relief of the thing wasn't worth it. he quits and starts again throughout the years, over and over and over, climbing into the third decade of the habit without being able to break it, never moving past the numbed feeling of failure for it. it's the one crack you'll occasionally catch in that aged picture of constant steadfastness and responsibility he's got going on.
to be unable to handle it all feels to him as good as giving up entirely. he smokes behind the school. he puts away the ashtrays when he has guests over. he doesn't like smoking with company, and he hates his shame being made known. if you'll allow me a pretentious second, it's sort of like an upward climb that he wants to take on alone so nobody else sees him stumble, and no one helps him if he twists an ankle. it's fine by him because he needs to be able to handle it himself. he needs to.
so. all this, versus tugger, who started well into adulthood and barrelled into it full and consciously. tugger, who smokes to replace sleep and sanity when his life runs on cigarettes and caffeine. but nothing more. he doesn't care to quit, he doesn't care to change. cigarettes look good between his fingers. he knows how to hold them pretty, like he knows everything else about himself that builds the picture he wants.
and, on a more interpersonal level, it upsets him that munkustrap is so acutely ashamed of it, the same way munkustrap is upset tugger is so casual about it. to some degree, though, i think that's because tugger's entirely hyperaware of how fragile life is and on how small a technicality shit can go sideways and end up killing him or anyone else. it's hard for him not to think about it. but it gives him some sort of strength to look for morbid humour in the things munkustrap wouldn't let himself laugh at, i think. it's gallows humour, to be fair, but it's good humour to tugger nonetheless. he finds stakes if not thrilling then certainly intriguing.
besides, making any sort of change to himself for other people, to tugger, is like betraying himself. he's built up that resistance to outside influence, and he's built it up hard and total. he doesn't mold, he doesn't bend, he'll do and look and say whatever he wants, he associates seeking validation strictly with misery. he doesn't understand munkustrap's frustration, or desire to please people, nor does he want to.
the thing with how tugger is, i think, is that he's just prodded at enough for both the street culture he grew up in and the inclination towards self-preservation of someone visibly queer to mesh together into something that can be spectacular and unmovable, and sometimes still turn ugly. i think curiosity is easy to push into cruelty with tugger.
shame is easy to mock for someone who's overcome it and tries hard to forget how insidious it can be. i think both munkustrap and tugger can be cruel to each other without wanting to and without really transgressing toward each other in a way that would dent their relationship, primarily because it's such a strong relationship but also because they're used to some sort of cruelty from the world at least, they just know better where to hit each other verbally to mess each other up. so. self-control, boys. comes to one of them easier than the other, LOL. and again, don't get me wrong. tugger doesn't want to be cruel to munkustrap, but it's not always a thing he can push away the instinct for. munkustrap doesn't want to be cruel to tugger, but he's been making hard decisions for ages and all but expects someone to be hurt by the end of it, and tugger is manageable. so. damn
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