Tumgik
#i'm still trying to convey something to you and i want to do it with as little filler as possible
sinner-sunflower · 1 day
Text
A HH Lucifer-centric AU 22/22
PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21
I can't believe it?? I made it, Ma!
Luci's General Suit inspired by this FANART on twt by @kajina_97
This is the COMIC that inspired me to write the whole thing because I wanted this ending so bad klajdklsa it's by @Sandranetta_13 on twt
Dk what tomorrow might entai. Might be the first chapter for the sequel?
Let me know what you guys think! Please, I'm very desperate.
I'm willing to do a Q&A regarding your thoughts. DMs and Asks are OPEN! <3
Will link the sequel here once posted
---------------------------------------------------
Everything was relatively normal the following week. His and Charlie's long overdue moment with no more miscommunication made Lucifer feel a whole lot better. He couldn't ask for a better daughter.
Dressing himself in one of his battle suits, he felt like he could take on the world. Nothing says King of Hell like your best warrior outfit and a badass sword in full display.
Lucifer: Looking pretty dapper there, me.
Lucifer doesn't even bother to style his hair- it now flows animatedly like that of Lilith's.
Flowers were still being sent to him especially when he was first spotted roaming around the hotel after a week-ish long recovery. Charlie had the amazing idea of making a greenhouse or some sort of garden to put all the flowers and keep them alive as long as possible.
They got rid of any red ones after someone sent a buttload of them which then caused him to have a mini panic attack. Alastor is subtly trying to take that moment off his mind by leaving Marigolds everywhere. It's sweet but soon they're going to need a separate greenhouse for just the Marigolds. Where'd he even get these??
Finding his first Marigold of the day, in the bathroom of all places really Alastor??, he makes his way to the lobby. Everyone was there doing their own thing.
Husk and Angel are at the bar as usual, with the latter talking animatedly about something that puts an endearing expression on Husk's face. Nifty is putting on roach puppet shows for Alastor. The radio demon notices him and conveys his most 'help me' face but he just chuckled and gives him a thumbs up. The cyclops named Cherri is today's gift screener, grumbling about the pollen and the shitty taste some demons have.
Charlie and Vaggie were talking to a small group of demons by the entrance. As soon as his daughter sees him, she said something to the group then walked over to him.
Charlie: Good morning, dad!
Lucifer: You look busy.
Charlie: They're sinners who are asking about the hotel! I'm so happy that people are at least coming here to check it out. Did you have a good sleep?
Lucifer: Well, I don't feel like passing out today. So pretty good!
Charlie: That's great, dad!
Angel: Short king! Looking good in that fit!
Cherri: Yeah! Do a spin, hot stuff!
He blushes at the sudden attention. Everyone is looking at him in awe- maybe it was too much?
Alastor: Nonsense, dear.
Alastor appeared beside him in a flurry of shadows, seemingly reading his mind. He bends down at Lucifer's level to whisper in his ear. He plucked the Marigold Lucifer was holding, putting it behind the King's hair.
Alastor: I, for one, think you never looked so.. raveshing~
Damn him.
Lucifer: Shut up.
Lucifer hisses in response. Like, seriously? In front of his daughter? Thank Father, Charlie didn't hear that.
Charlie: Yeah! You look so cool. I don't think I've seen you wear that except for when there's a banquet.
Lucifer: Yeah, well, I wanted to look put together after everything.
Charlie softens at his words.
Alastor: No need for that, sire. I'm sure no one is foolish enough to comment negatively on what the King of Hell chooses to look like.
Lucifer: What does that make you then?
Alastor: Privileged, my King~
Lucifer rolls his eyes at the audacity but he can't help but smile. Man, he never thought he'd miss their constant banter.
Charlie: You look awesome, dad, okay? Al, please slow down with the Marigolds, Nifty's going crazy. Oh! Dad, right, Aunt Bel called said that the Sloth Ring is making incredible progress and that she'll visit again soon. I think Aunt Bee is planning a party with the other Sins and would like it to be held here in Pride! At the hotel! It would be so cool and of course if you're not ready I can tell them and maybe a little get together would be better. I'll even invite Sev! He gave flowers for you too and Vaggie was so jealous when I said he was my ex and thought the flowers were for me, she was so cute-
Lucifer tried, but he stopped listening halfway through his daughter's talk. It was a bit of an information overload but he kept a small, genuine smile on his face for her.
Then something caught his eye that made him stopped smiling altogether.
Charlie notices this causing her to stop talking.
Charlie: Dad?
He should answer but his eyes were locked on the wall behind Charlie. Plastered on the higher part of the lobby's wall was a glowing mark- gold wings with a dot on the center.
Lucifer turns around so fast to look outside the hotel's window. Heaven looks so out of place up there, sticking out like a sore thumb upon Hell's red skies.
A glint in the distance made him act. Without warning, he took off with such force that those inside the hotel were knocked down by the gust of his wings.
He breaks the window on his way out and pulls out Lightbringer. Lucifer brings the sword up and-
A powerful explosion lit up the sky. The sky split in two and fire appeared high and wide over Pride. At that moment, everyone became so hot that they couldn't bear it, as if their whole body was on fire. They wanted to rip their skin off just to get a sense of relief but then the sky shut closed. A strong thump was heard by every demon in the vicinity and then they were all thrown a few meters.
It felt like an eternity before Charlie and the others could get their bearings. Those that didn't get knocked out went outside, once there, they see Lucifer far up in the sky, holding up a flaming sword. The signature pentagram of the city has been fractured by whatever happened and demons all around were either hurt or unconscious.
Charlie: Dad!
Charlie calls out to her dad but he doesn't acknowledge her. His gaze never leaving Heaven, as if he's seeing something that no one else can.
--------------------------------------
A screen locked on Hell zooms out as the machine's voice rang out 'target disengaged'.
An angel looking similarly to Lucifer, except there's blue tints on the spots where Lucifer had reds, was looking down at Hell pulling back a large, golden gun. They blew the smoke residue and sighed.
Michael: Hello, Lucifer... Still causing trouble, I see.
---------------------------------------
it's done??
cliffhanger but don't worry, there's a sequel!
I spent 30 minutes looking for that comic that inspired this ending.
Did y'all catch that Lemmino reference? I'd have that description in my head rent free ever since I watched Grazed by the Apocalypse
Again, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this! This was my first published baby and I'm so proud !
40 notes · View notes
cy-cyborg · 3 days
Text
Proximity to disability is not the same as living with it - Writing disability quick tips
Tumblr media
[ID: An image with “Writing Disability quick tips: Proximity to disability is not the same as living with it” written in chalk the colour of the disability pride flag, from left to right, red, yellow, white, blue and green. Beside the text are 2 poorly drawn people icons in blue, one is standing, the other is in a wheelchair. /end id]
One of the really common ways people push back against disabled people trying to give them feedback on how they’ve depicted disability in their work shows up as something along the lines of, “Well I have a child/parent/grandparent/friend with that disability, so I don’t need to consult other disabled people because I already know what a life like that is like!”
I see the most vehement pushback like this from parents of disabled children. the parents who are their child's advocates, their carers, they see everything their kids go through and have been with them through it all, so they "know what they're talking about already". And the thing about that is, while it means you have much, much more experience with the disability in question, it's not the same as direct experience living with it. Don't get me wrong, it's still an incredibly valuable experience to have, I'm not saying to disregard it, but it's not the same as having that disability. And when you're writing about characters who are disabled, and telling those stories to a public who already have a lot of misinformation about us going in, that lived experience is very, very important.
This isn't unique to parents of course, like I said, I've seen the same kind of pushback from children, friends and other loved ones of disabled people, and honestly, as someone who's been on both sides of the conversation (being a disabled person, but also having loved ones with disabilities different to my own), I do get where it comes from. But no matter how close you are with your disabled loved one, no matter how much you talk, no matter how much they explain everything, unless you yourself have that same disability, it's incredibly hard to understand the details of what life with a disability is like.
Let me use my partner as an example:
Often times, before these larger articles go up, I run them by my partner to ensure the tone and message I want to get across is actually what’s being conveyed. Which means he’s read pretty much every single article I’ve written on this blog. We talk about disability representation and tropes a lot, and he is one of the only people who sees my unmasked and unfiltered reactions to media when it’s done poorly. He’s also done a great deal of his own research on the subject, and worked with other disability sensitivity readers for his own writing projects. Not to mention, well, we live together, he sees pretty much every part of my day-to-day life and he’s one of the only people who doesn't share my disability who I talk to about the more complex emotions that come with it.
I think it’s pretty fair to say he’s quite knowledgeable on the subject of living with the specific disabilities I have for someone who doesn't have them. Despite that though, he still makes mistakes. He still misses things, and sometimes, internalised ableism - something everyone has, even disabled people - still creeps its way into his work. So do mistakes he simply didn't consider to run past me or his sensitivity readers. It’s not because he’s not listening or not trying, I’d confidently say he’s gone above and beyond in that regard, but it still happens. He still misses things that seem so obvious to me, specifically because of my lived experience as a disabled person who has to deal with these things all the time. It’s not unique to him either. A lot of people in my life are aware of the issues I talk about, but struggle to recognise them in practice or struggle to understand why them being depicted poorly is a problem.
This isn't to discourage creators from trying, mind you. But just to serve as a reminder that everyone makes mistakes, and that's ok, so long as you're still trying and still listening. No matter how close you are to a disabled person, no matter how much work or effort you put into unlearning things like internalised ableism, it's still going to pop up occasionally. And that's fine, but it means that you still need to be open to the criticism you get from people with that disability.
25 notes · View notes
softerhaze · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
random outtakes that make me feel some type of way 💌
280 notes · View notes
thedeliaishere · 9 months
Text
YOUNG WOMAN - Actually, detective, I'm a woman.
EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - She says it so insistently, as if arguing with you. You may have upset her.
COMPOSURE [Formidable: Failure] - You feel a pit in your stomach. You did something wrong, but you don't know what.
LOGIC [Trivial: Success] - Her way of dressing, the feminine name, yet deep voice - it should have been clear to you sooner. She's transgender.
ESPIRIT DE CORPS [Formidable: Success] - Almost imperceptible, the lieutenant anxiously twitches his eyebrow.
DAMAGED MORALE - 1
Transgender? What's that?
This doesn't have any bearing on the investigation.
ENCYCLOPEDIA [Trivial: Success] - A transgender person is someone who does not identify with the gender they were assigned at birth. Oftentimes they will dress conforming to their desired gender roles, change their names, and seek medical intervention to, "transition."
Gender is rather bourgeois, anyway.
Why would any proud Revacholian discard their masculinity?
Changing your gender? That sounds like quite the hustle. Maybe we can learn a thing or two from this woman.
That's cool. I have no opinion on this one way or another.
RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - Just as Mazov dared to challenge the established order of capitalism, so too do others challenge the order of things such as sex and gender.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Trivial: Success] - IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE WE'VE FELT THE TOUCH OF A WOMAN. WHO CARES IF SHE USED TO BE A MAN? HAVE SEX WITH HER NOW! ITS WHAT A REAL MAN WOULD DO!
EMPATHY - [Trivial: Success] - Don't do that. It's clear now, you upset her for accidentally calling her a man. Just apologize.
COMPOSURE [Medium: Failure] - Profusely.
ESPIRIT DE CORPS [Medium: Success] - It's important to be a good ally.
DRAMA [Medium: Success] - Make a real show of it, sire!
"Oh, I didn't realize. I'm sorry."
"I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I'll leave you alone forever now."
"I haven't been a good representative of the RCM. We're here to help the people of Martinaise, no matter their identity. I'm sorry to have let you down."
[Drama - Legendary 14] Try and come up with an elaborate, heartfelt apology in the style of the turn of the century thespians.
HIGH 83% +1 Found testosterone ampoule on nightstand. +1 Homo-Sexual Underground. +1 Read about the turn of the century thespians. -1 Recovered your gun. -1 Masculinity challenged. This is a Red Check. It cannot be retried.
⚀⚀
CHECK FAILURE
YOU - You try and come up with the words to convey your apology to the young woman, but you come up blank. It's hard to fit, "transgender" into iambic pentameter, as it turns out.
DRAMA - I'm sorry, sire. I have failed you.
KIM KITSURAGI - "Detective? You've been standing there for a whole minute. Are you okay?"
ESPIRIT DE CORPS - Shit, the lieutenant is onto us. We have to say something soon, or we could lose him.
COMPOSURE [Trivial: Success] - Don't worry, we can still salvage this. Anyone have any ideas?
VOLITION [Heroic: Failure] - Let me handle this.
You - "I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry. I'm such a fucking failure. Do you want me to kill myself?"
24K notes · View notes
luveline · 5 months
Note
gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing
thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k
Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated. 
You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong. 
"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?" 
"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks. 
Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach. 
"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong." 
"I'm just trying to figure something out." 
This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance. 
You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein. 
He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?" 
That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop. 
"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something. 
"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself." 
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention." 
He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights. 
Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done? 
You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time. 
I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again. 
You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears. 
This is all so messy, and it's your fault. 
I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me. 
You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid. 
The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help. 
"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?" 
He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go." 
He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention. 
Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up. 
He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell. 
Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you. 
"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it." 
Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry." 
Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel. 
Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug. 
He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes  
He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon. 
His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two. 
"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset " 
"I'm an idiot–" 
"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"
"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–" 
"I shouldn't have–" 
"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away. 
Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up." 
He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into? 
"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me." 
Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says. 
"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile. 
"It's not okay." 
"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even." 
"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked." 
"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?" 
"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back." 
You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better." 
"I know, angel." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you." 
What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful. 
"Does it look really bad?" 
"N–no. You look really pretty," he says. 
"Are my eyes puffy?"
A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already." 
"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to." 
Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid." 
"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask. 
Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not." 
You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure." 
"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."
"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want." 
"Can I give you a hug?" he asks. 
You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it. 
"That feels nice," you mumble. 
He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?" 
"Don't," you warn. 
He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?" 
"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it. 
"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry, angel." 
Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.
4K notes · View notes
lipringlrh · 9 months
Text
look who's staring now | LN4
summary: your boyfriends so pretty whilst he sleeps, how could you not stare at him?
pairing: lando norris x genderneutral!reader
an: short and sweet. more dialogue than i'm use to so please do let me know how you find it!
word count: ~800
warnings: cuddly lando, (pretends to not be) cuddly reader, fluff
feedback appreciated!
Tumblr media
...
It wasn't late at night but it wasn't exactly early either. Lando was asleep - completely knocked out, or so you thought - in your arms, on top of your chest. You were meant to be asleep but you just couldn't help but stare at your boyfriend. He looked so peaceful and relaxed with a small hint of a smile on his face, how could you not stare at him?
Lando had been drifting briefly in and out of sleep for a while but he didn't particularly mind. He'd gone to bed rather early and whenever he was awake, he was comforted by your arms. This time though, he felt compelled to actually open his eyes instead of just falling back asleep; he swore he could feel eyes on him and god forbid he miss a chance to tease you about it.
He was quick to open his eyes and meet yours, making sure there was no chance you could hide the fact that you'd been staring at him.
"Hi, baby," he whispered teasingly, his voice slightly croaky from sleep.
He caught you staring and you did not like it at all. Usually in the relationship, you weren't the touchy-feely one, as much as you wanted to be. You held back a lot, trying to be independent. Lando didn't really care and often became extra touchy enough for the both of you or so he liked to claim.
Along with this, you pretended to never be the lovey-dovey kind, always making Lando persuade you into hugs and cuddles. He knew it was just an act though, with you being happy to cuddle at any point of the day.
"You okay, sweetheart? Got a nice view or something?" He whispered, grabbing your hand and moving it to scratch his head. It was almost subconscious now, making you scratch his head, but you both secretly loved it.
You looked away from him, knowing he could tell you were flustered, another thing he would tease you with.
"I'm perfect me. Yeah - completely. You - how was your sleep going?" You asked, still turned away.
You took one glance at him and you knew instantly it made you seem more flustered. He was looking at you with a knowing gaze, spilling his thoughts of "I know what you're thinking, don't hide it.
"It's just really hot at the moment," you tried to justify, not ready to give yourself away just yet.
"Isn't that just me next to you, hmm?" He murmured, pressing short but sweet kisses to your chest.
You couldn't help but laugh lightly at him, "I'll just let you believe what you want to believe."
"Okay, baby," he smiled, moving his trail of kisses up to your cheek, "you do that. I know it's true,"
He left a peck on your lips just in time to cut off any reply you thought about giving, "I love you, sweetheart."
He couldn't express enough his feelings for you and it felt wrong to squash them down into three small words. But even with every word from every language, and telling you in every lifetime, he doesn't believe he'd ever get to convey it fully. You knew the feeling because it was the exact way you felt too.
"I love you too, Lan," you whispered, kissing him once more, "go back to sleep, before you get too big-headed though."
"Got to stop staring at me then, baby, could just feel it. I know I'm too sexy but-"
He was cut off by you lightly swatting him, then giggling to yourself. He couldn't help but watch, solely enamoured by you.
"Look who's staring now."
"It's 'cause I think you're beautiful and pretty and sexy," he gulped, not being able to describe you as well as you deserve.
"Yeah?"
"You gonna tell me I'm sexy now?" He looked up, wiggling his eyebrows slightly.
"You're really sexy, Lan, you should know that." You smiled at him, running your thumb across his cheek.
"So that's why you were staring at me whilst I'm asleep?" He titled his head, mocking you again in the way you both loved.
"Go back to bed."
"But-"
You cut his off, pressing your hand over his mouth, "Shush, bed."
You waited a moment before removing your hand.
"One last kiss please," he leaned up, almost pouting at you.
Of course, you had to comply, why would you not, and gave him many sweet pecks all over his face.
"I love you, Lando."
"I love you too angel," he promised, lowing his head back on top of your chest, smiling as your hand moved to his hair, and you both finally shut your eyes.
"Don't worry, your staring's cute."
Tumblr media
f1 masterlist |
2K notes · View notes
astarion-obsessions · 6 months
Text
Hold on, there is something I thought about. When Astarion approached Tav with "all his favourite lines" of flattery, leading to fake confessing his love to them, I was genuinely hurt to see that he would play with Tav's feelings like that, just for the sake of entertainment.
But now that their relationship progressed and Astarion actually confessed that he developed feelings for Tav, but still claims to not know how he would define their relationship, I get the feeling that he made the choice to fake confess beforehand for another reason than entertainment or seduction altogether. Hear me out.
Why does Astarion fake confess his love to Tav?
When I get a scene with Astarion, I always reload a thousand times to try out all the routes and see all his reactions, so what I'm about to break down will be no less than heartbreaking.
First let's take a look at what Astarion has to say. He starts the conversation with a clear goal in mind: he wants to seduce us again and he says so right away. He continues with very openly displaying his skills at charming people with honeyed words, seemingly enjoying himself while doing so. But what we have to keep in mind is that he's done that thousands and thousands of times already. I think it's safe to assume that he's perfected this mask of a smug, flirtatious man enjoying all this debauchery. 
But after giving us one suggestive line after another, he does something that does not match the tone of the conversation so far: his fake love confession. I mean, just look at him. 
He goes from completely exaggerated facial expressions and gestures: 
Tumblr media
When I'm with you, I feel practically alive, yet I crave only to die again with you.
To this:
Tumblr media
I love you
We get a closeup of his face and see that he gets serious all of a sudden despite the fact that the conversation has been all fun and flirty just a moment ago. He draws his brows together, tells Tav "I love you" and then just looks at us with this serious and almost sad expression. Completely different from before when he was just toying around. 
And yes, I just said he's very practiced in playing pretend, but just the difference between shallow and cheesy lines about craving to die together and their perfect body whispering temptation in contrast to a simple "I love you" and then on top of that the difference on how he conveys it - for me it just doesn't fit together, this isn’t Astarion pretending. And furthermore he gains nothing from adding this confession. The flirty lines would have been enough to seduce Tav once again and therefore ensure their attachment to him, so that his protection is granted. And that is all he wants, at least in the beginning. 
But then, why would he voice this fake confession in the first place? And that's where my theory sets in. I don't think he would risk the trouble of getting more feelings involved than necessary in his "nice simple plan" - seducing Tav, sleeping with them, manipulating their feelings. For doing so, he simply wouldn't need a love confession. 
With saying "How about I say those little words. Everyone's favourite" he already suggests that he's said them to a lot of people already. And this surely is a way to charm and seduce people very fast, but with Tav he doesn't need to rush. They're tied together for an indefinite amount of time, he doesn't need to seduce them in a matter of hours or days before serving them to his master. And he's already seduced Tav successfully before, so my guess is this:
My explanation for the fake confession
The real confession scene, where he admits to having started to genuinely feel something for Tav, came a bit out of nowhere for me. (And don't get me started with our options to react to his real confession. I talked about that here.) I don’t think he would just willingly tell Tav that he's grown fond of them, when a few nights before he threw the fake confession their way without giving a damn about Tav's feelings - that just felt very out of character for him in my opinion. 
But what if he started to fall in love with Tav even before the fake confession? Think about it, he has slept with Tav once - successfully seduced - so all he has to do is sustain this kind of relationship. Saying all his favourite lines at Tav and trying to get them to sleep with each other for a second time would have been just that - sustaining the relationship at present. But then he says "I love you". And I say he does so purposefully. It's a test. Having someone like you enough to sleep with you is one thing. Having deep and complex feelings like love involved is something else entirely. So he tests the waters with this confession. He hides behind all of these flirtatious lines and places the confession at their end to throw a veil over its real meaning. 
It may be a lie either way - saying it just for entertainment or saying it to see if Tav is open for deeper feelings - but I think he exaggerates on purpose to trigger a reaction that speaks for itself. Does Tav care about these words? Is Tav hurt to see that Astarion is apparently willing to play with their feelings like this? Or do they not care about such vanities? 
I want to emphasise the fact that Astarion hasn't had the luxury to allow himself anything resembling these kinds of feelings for at least two centuries. Naturally, he would not just come around and open up his heart to Tav when all he's done until then was charming them just for his plan. He would want to reassure himself that this wouldn't turn against him if he dares to show such great vulnerability in front of anyone. He says it himself when he properly confesses that it is intimidating for him to make decisions on his own again. And confessing his feelings is exactly one of those intimidating decisions.  
Interpreting Astarion's reaction
To back up my take I want to take a closer look at Astarion's reaction when we reject him after the fake confession. After he laughs the confession off in one way or the other, he insists on having sex with you again. Here he sticks to exaggerated facial expressions and gestures, just like before with his honeyed words.
Tumblr media
Now, as much as I relish standing around and saying all my favourite lines at you, I’d much rather we got to experience each others’ full portfolio of talents once again.
But if Tav then turns him down with saying “I don’t think I really want this”, this is his immediate reaction:
Tumblr media
Well, well, excuse me while I die of a broken heart.
He takes a few seconds to process what Tav said, and then instantly responds with another exaggeration accompanied by fitting gesticulation, ending with a fake smile. After that he just looks at Tav for another few seconds and his demeanor changes again:
Tumblr media
In all honesty, it's a shame. That time was special to me. I've gotten on my back ten thousand times or more, and forgotten half of them. 
He loses his fake smile, averts his gaze and starts fumbling with his hands nervously. He can't hide his disappointment, but he tries to keep his face neutral - even if it doesn't work all too well. He tells us we were special before giving us a scrunched fake smile once again. It's really hard to watch…
Tumblr media
But you… you I'll remember. 
For usually being rather quick to react and respond, we can see how difficult it is for him to react to Tav in this case.
Tumblr media
Have a fine evening, dear. 
He pauses yet again, lifts his gaze to the sky and just looks so lost. Mere moments ago he was flirting and laughing, and now he seems so utterly desperate. And then, he can't even keep up his attempts of masking his sadness when his expression slips in the end and his face scrunches painfully for just a second before the whole scene ends. This really broke my heart.
Conclusion
This is definitely not the reaction of someone who was turned down for just another round of sex - even if this meant that Astarion's plan of assuring his safety didn't work out. Because then he could have just tried to get Tav to change their mind with another one of his favourite lines. Or he would have at least reacted like he does when you tell him to stay at the camp ("Oh darling, I'm hurt" which he obviously isn't). But he doesn't. 
Because this is the reaction of someone who dared to get his hopes up. Someone who thought that maybe, just maybe, these unwanted, complicated feelings for Tav which had slowly crept up, nullifying his nice simple plan, could genuinely lead to a relationship he didn't know he needed so desperately. Someone who is so devastated by a rejection at this point, that he doesn't even question it. He just accepts that Tav isn't interested in sleeping with him, let alone having feelings beyond sexual desire. It's just as it always has been. It's not as if Astarion remembers anyone caring about him, so why should it be different this time… 
And that's why I think this whole fake love confession was a way for Astarion to veil his growing feelings for Tav under the pretence of flirting, and had the purpose to find out if he could more or less safely confess his true feelings to Tav. 
Gods, this is so heartbreaking. I need to pat Astarion's fluffy head in my dreams as a redemption. 
1K notes · View notes
transmutationisms · 5 months
Text
re: lrb there is such an immense failure in the 'western' 'left' to conceptualise or engage with politics on any level besides the representational or the spectacular. in many ways this is simply a tacit capitulation to the (early) modern articulations of liberalism we ostensibly rail against, where political action is reduced to a field of communicating desires and being 'stood for' by the actually powerful in a governing body. this is essentially still what we are doing when we try to 'raise awareness' or 'show support' standing around by the side of the road with signs. and like the post said, i'm not opposed to those activities happening; i do think for example that there's value in conveying to other workers and disillusioned people that hey, there's a mass movement here. but you have to actually then do something with that movement. you have to understand politics not as a realm of showing things or wanting things but materially producing and using them; that's where labour's actual power lies and always has been. and ofc it's so insidious to see this degree of complete material disengagement in eg the usa, where so much of the material military and financial backing of israel does actually originate. how is it that we are still unable to connect the concept of political action to this real process of provisioning a genocide. how are we still standing here holding signs for photo ops. how are we still thinking that matters even remotely if the threat of material interference in the economy and the military machine is never followed up on, and if our nominal representatives know it won't be followed up on. get fucking real
1K notes · View notes
blacknight1230 · 4 months
Text
Healing Touches
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Y/n) is suffering from one of the worst migraines they had ever had, but luckily she has two wonderful partners to help her feel better.
poly!Halsin X Reader X Astarion
Everything hurt. Why does everything hurt? That was the first thing you were thinking of when you woke up that morning. The sounds of the birds singing their morning song, the sunlight breaking through the slit in your tent's opening, the reverberating throbbing of your head ... it could only mean one thing. You were suffering from a migraine. You tried to get up to try and find something to help you with your pain, but the slightest movement made a wave of dizziness and nausea to overcome you. Spots danced across your eyes, even when they were closed and your back teeth were even in pain. This is by far the worst migraine you have ever experienced, and you've suffered from quite a lot. This is what I get for not having my medication with me, you thought. Yet another thing you took for granted when you somehow managed to transport yourself from the modern world to the magical and chaotic world of Faerûn. How you did that, you still did not know.
The vertigo you were dealing with made it impossible for you to physically get help. So, you did the only thing possibly in this situation; you used your tadpole to connect with one of your companions. You psychically reached out to one of your nearby companion's tadpole, latching onto the first one your worm felt. You struggled to maintain the connection and formulate proper thoughts to convey your need for help. Before you were able to identify who you were connected with, said connection broke as you lost concentration, your head now pounding even harder. Everything felt numb as blood rushed in your ears and spots danced behind your eyes again.
The opening of your tent flap and sunlight pouring in signalled that someone had entered your informal abode. You sheltered under the layers of your bedroll and hissed at the brightness, not able to see who came to your rescue. "Are you alright, pet? I felt you reach out to me," a sauve cool voice asked. Astarion, you inwardly cooed. The silver haired vampire noticed your aversion to the light, closing the tent flap behind him as he shuffled closer to you. "Darling, please say something," he worried. You peaked an eye over the edge of your bedroll cover, met with the handsome face of your vampiric lover. His usual lustrous saccharine eyes were soft with concern, furrowed brows showing the hidden wrinkles of his forehead. "Migraine," you managed to say, voice coming out raspy and low. The slight movement of your jaw did not help the resounding pain in your back teeth, which in turn made your head worse. "Oh, my sweet little love," he cooed. He reached a hand out and brushed it across the apple of your cheek, the slightest touch of his cold skin providing you with relief. "Let me go get, Halsin. He'll surely know what to do."
"No, stay," you whispered, wanting nothing more than for him to wander his icy hands over your head and neck. Astarion let out a sad chuckled, kneeling over you to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm sorry, my love. But I'll be right back, I promise." His icy touch left you as he careful made his way outside without letting any light disturb you.
You laid there, in silence and pain, for who knows how long. Time felt slower as the throbbing continued in your skull. Sleep refused to take you under its wings, and there was no way you could sit up and read a book. When the hulking frame of Halsin appeared in your tent's entrance way, you swore it was a godsend.
"Oh, my heart," the druid cooed when he laid eyes on you. "Halsin," you whimpered out. Tears were brimming at the corner of your eyes, but you wouldn't let him see them cascade down your face. "I've got some natural remedies to help you with your pain, my heart. But first you need to tell me where it hurts?" Halsin softly told you, kneeling down beside you. "Everywhere. It hurts everywhere," you told your hulking lover.
Astarion quietly shuffled himself into the privacy of your tent, situating himself to sit on the blanketed ground facing the other side of Halsin. "Darling, you need to be more specific so Halsin can help you? Can you do that for us?" he coached you, taking his hand to gentle rub away the furrowing of your forehead. You audibly let out a sigh of relief at the coldness of his fingers, losing yourself in his touch. "It looks like she enjoys that, Astarion. I suggest you continue while I prepare the appropriate remedies," Halsin cooed.
You just groaned in pleasure as Astarion's lithe fingers continued to massaged away the stress in your forehead muscles. You felt them relax, and in turn you stopped scrunching your eyes shut as the pain slightly lessened. But the back of your head, right where your spine meets your skull, was still throbbing in pain, so you grabbed Astarion's other hand and brought it to the spot. The vampire spawn seemed to understand what you wanted, slowly but firmly rolling the sore tissue under his pale fingertips. A small gasp was brought to your lips and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears lessened to the point you could now hear Halsin grinding some medical herbs in a mortar and pestle somewhere inside your tent.
Liquid sloshed in a container as Halsin returned to you, having finished what he was doing. "I made you something to help with your migraine. I need you to sit up so you can drink it. Can you do that for me?" he informed. You mumbled out a small yes, struggling to prop yourself up on your elbows. Astarion wrapped an arm around your torso and gently pulled you to lean up against his chest. You placed a chaste kiss on his hand as a thank you. You were able to open your eyes now, though you still squinted due to not being used to the light, still somewhat sensitive to it. But you were able to make out Halsin kneeling beside you with a glass bottle filled with some reddish liquid inside held in his large hand.
"Here you go, my heart. Drink as much as you can," he said as he brought the glass rim up to your lips. You opened your mouth, humming as the first drop of the medicine hit your tongue. Mmm, chamomile, you thought. There was a hit of sweetness to it, as if Halsin added spoon of honey to the mixture., that craffy bear. You hummed in enjoyment at the taste, signalling to Halsin to tilt the bottle some more so you could drink more its contents.
When you almost finished the mixture, Halsin pulled the bottle away. "Not too much, my heart. There will be plenty more for you later," he teased. You mewled as you leaned further into Astarion's chest, eyes starting to feel droopy. Astarion let out a light chuckle at your affections. "I see the herbs are already working. Would you like us to stay with you while you nap, my darling?" he playfully ask. You nodded, looking up into his ruby eyes with a child-like pout on your lips. "Please. I want some cuddles," you pleaded. "Oh, darling, how could we ever say no to a face like that," Astarion cooed, placing two light kisses against your eyelids.
You repositioned yourself so you were laying on your stomach with your head on Astarion's chest. The vampire wrapped his arms around your middle and laid a kiss on your head, before settling himself back onto your sleeping pillow. Your druid partner threw an arm over the both of you as he laid on his side, his muscular chest warming your side while his chin rested lightly on Astarion's white locks. You could feel the tangling of your legs with your partners, a smile making your way to your face. "Sweet dreams, my sweet," Astarion whispered in your ear. "Rest well, my love," Halsin purred, rubbing soothing circles into your back. The scent of your loves and the sound of their rhythmic breathing lulled you back to sleep, the pain that once plagued you moment you woke up long forgotten as you laid within their loving embraces.
1K notes · View notes
cheapshrimpysheep · 4 months
Text
You Will Stop the Wedding! - Jamil Viper
Tumblr media
SUMMARY: YOU were the one being kidnapped by Princess Eliza to marry her. How would he react and how would he save you? With the aggravation of he already having a crush on you.
CHARACTERS: Jamil Viper x Reader
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Declaration
WORD COUNT: 1.260 words
Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia
Rescuing You - Deuce Spade; Jack Howl; Floyd Leech; Kalim Al-Asim
COMMENTS: What have I done? Why did I commit to writing this? And why did I write so much? Why was I so inspired? There were seven of them! Why do I do this to myself? So yeah, this took me a long time. But I hope it was worth it, for me and for you.
Tumblr media
CONTEXT: Someone was kidnapped to marry some ghost princess and might end up turning into a ghost too. And they just found out that someone was you.
Tumblr media
Jamil was not present at the Housewarden's meeting, since he isn't one. But it didn't take long for Kalim to tell him, especially because he was panicking. He starts saying loose sentences about ghosts, kidnapping, marriage and especially your name. Jamil gets very serious and asks Kalim to stop for a few seconds, calm down a little and explain things clearly. And if that doesn't work, he has a plan B: ask one of the other Housewardens. Riddle would be an excellent choice.
After fully understanding what is happening, he himself panics for a moment. But then he clears his throat and calms himself down. He asks, no, he orders Kalim to stay safe in Scarabia while he joins the others in the rescue groups. When Kalim tries to convince Jamil to let him help them, Jamil gets straight to the point and says it's dangerous, both for him and for you. Does he really want to risk ruining everything? It's your life that's at stake here! Jamil was being harsher than usual, but Kalim knew why, and promised that he would stay in Scarabia hoping that everything would go well. He would behave well for Jamil and for you.
However Jamil is too cautious to simply believe him. So most likely, without Kalim noticing, Jamil will put him to sleep or something with some spell or with his Snake Wisper. You know, just in case.
Jamil asked to be in the last group. A little like Azul, he is the type to first analyse all angles of the situation before forming a more appropriate plan.
When it's the last group's turn, whenever someone needs to stay behind to tie up the ghosts, Jamil tells one of the others to do it. He always managed to show himself as a good strategist and someone who conveys the confidence of a leader, so the others just followed this order without questioning much. His behavior showed that he seemed to have a plan in place. He ends up being the only one to arrive at the ceremony hall.
He could follow the plan, but he knew himself well in this regard. He is good at hiding his true feelings, but he is not good at showing feelings that are antagonistic to his true ones. The princess would definitely notice this as she noticed some of the others' strategies. For these reasons he had a plan B, but still wanted to try the original plan.
“Your majesty, you must stop this wedding. You are taking with you someone who doesn't want to be with you. If you don't marry someone who loves you back, both of your lives... afterlives? will be miserable. And that's why I'm here. Please accept me as your husband and I promise to do everything in my power to make your afterlife wonderful.” Everything was going well, until he proposed to her husband.
The princess said out loud the same thing that you also noticed. In these sentences his emotion almost disappeared, showing that he was lying. And she accused him of trying to deceive her.
Jamil sighed. He was now forced to follow plan B, which he never really likes to follow. Be honest.“You are correct, your majesty. I was lying. But-” Before he could continue speaking the princess ordered the guards to catch him. And he had a plan for that too.
He managed to dodge all the ghost guards and was heading towards the altar where you and the princess were. But one thing wasn't part of his plan: One of the guards turning into a giant ghost. Obviously he still tried to fight and did his best, but he still lost against the guard. As soon as the guard caught him, the princess wasted no time in slapping him, she didn't want to hear his excuses.
However, Jamil remained able to move. Everyone gasps, including the princess. When the guards ask what's going on, the princess says it can only mean one thing. The thing is that her slap is capable of petrifying anyone, except those who have already found their true love. The reaction from all NRC students is like "What the F-?!" And Jamil’s reaction was to lower his head to try to make his hair hide his face.
Then he lifted it again, with an upset and slightly obscured expression on his face. He really hated exposing himself like that, but at that moment, it was his last shot to save you. “Do you want the truth? I'm here for someone, yes, but not for you. I'm here for the person you kidnapped to force to be your partner.” She starts to say that she didn't kidnap or force anyone. “Your delusion disgusts me.” The guard shakes him, threatening him not to insult the princess.
But now the princess is interested. He was there for you? So why did he ask to marry her? “Because we had a plan.” Jamil admits, as if he's had enough and just wants to resolve everything once and for all. “Making you accept one of us as a husband to put a ring on your finger that would send you to the afterlife.” The princess is offended and feels attacked by that. And while she and the guard start to say how outrageous that is, Jamil looks at the princess again, but this time with a condescending look.
“If you're going to take someone with you, take me then. Let (Y/N) go. Let me go in their place. From a young age I learned that part of my job would be to be willing to give my life for someone. Let me give my life for someone I lo... care about, then.” He couldn't fake something like this that well.
And, out of nowhere, the princess started to feel sorry for herself and jealous of you. Having someone willing to give their life for you like that. This was the greatest proof of love anyone could give. How she wished she had someone like that for herself too. And this was the opportunity that the guard who was in love with her found to declare himself and say that he would give his life for her, after all, technically, he had already done so.  And that whole ending of the princess realizing that she loved him too happens, they get married and happily ever after.
As soon as the guard releases Jamil, he runs to you. “Are you well? Are you hurt?” You were petrified, but shortly afterwards you could move again. Jamil never left your side until the ghosts left.
After everything and while the first-years were getting ready to tidy up and clean the cafeteria, you asked Jamil to wait a bit. You leave the room so you can talk alone. He couldn't look at you, and he was trying to hide his face with his hands or his hair. He had practically already declared himself to you during all that madness. So you decide it's your turn to tell him that you feel the same way about him. He looks at you in surprise and you can see how flattered he was.
Knowing now that your feelings were mutual, he becomes kind of smug. “Does that mean you would give your life for me too? That you would serve me if necessary? *chuckle* Don't worry, I'm just messing with you. Unless you don't mind.” You say you would, at least, kiss him right there and then. He holds you by the waist. “Be my guest.”
Tumblr media
If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
946 notes · View notes
kisakis-boyfriend · 2 months
Note
In the animal kingdom, typically the male birds are the ones who are super colorful and do complicated mating rituals such as singing, dance, or gift giving to attract a mate. Since Xiao is a bird type illuminated beast, could you do hcs about what kind of dramatic things he would do to seduce the reader? I wanna see his serious self wearing the gaudiest outfit ever while break dancing lmao
Tumblr media
Pairings: Xiao x reader
Warnings: GN!reader, courting rituals, tiny bit of angst
Genre/Format: Fluff; Headcannons
Author's Note: I was today years old when I found out that Xiao is a sort of bird-like creature 😶 Anyways yeah! Hope these are to your liking~
Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!
Tumblr media
I cannot picture Xiao ever breakdancing lol. But! I think he would perform some sort of traditional dance to impress a potential partner.
If you recall the end of Ayaka's story quest (I think?) I'm picturing something very similar; albeit a traditional Chinese dance. Something truly breathtaking and emotional.
Xiao has trouble expressing his feelings and emotions, as well as even understanding human emotions in the first place...but he would still try to convey how he feels about you through song and dance.
Reluctantly, the adeptus may even ask his good pal Venti for a bit of help. Maybe the anemo archon would be generous enough to play the flute or lyre while Xiao courts you?
I also think Xiao is the type to want every detail to be perfect. Elaborate, but not entirely over the top.
A specific location where the scenery is gorgeous; the breeze passes through, the moon shines down on his graceful body as it moves and flows to the music, maybe some leaves fall around him? Or perhaps some aromatic petals?
Of course he's going to wear the most beautiful ensemble during his performance as well. Some sort of hanfu, or hanfu-inspired clothing that flows like the wind.
Xiao is also the type to bring you little gifts in an attempt to court you. He is quite perceptive and can pick up on the things that interest you easily.
A bracelet crafted from crystalfly cores and noctilucous jade. A bookmark made of pressed qingxin flowers. A wonderful blend of tea that Xiao created himself (with a bit of help from Zhongli, of course)
I can definitely picture the adeptus flaunting his strength oh so casually in front of/around you.
He's not the type of guy to flex his biceps for you to squeeze (unless you really want to? Then maaaybe he can make an exception...just this once...just for you)
Though he will jump in to 'rescue' you. By this I mean that he will rescue you from a tiny cut while you're cooking. Not even bad enough to need a bandage, just a small knick.
Xiao will appear next to you ready to whisk you off to the hospital or something...you have to firmly decline and remind him that you're not made of glass. 😐
The sweetie means well, he's just overly protective of the person that he desires spending the rest of his life with 💕
Tumblr media
536 notes · View notes
rafesaddiction · 4 months
Text
It's really not cheating when he's your enemy and gives you his sweater – Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader (Part 2.5)
Tumblr media
See here for part 1 and part 2
Summary: You're at a kegger by the beach. Rafe is there too. You want to avoid him – as if that ever worked.
Concept: enemies, “I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater“
Warnings: mdni! – this has no actual smut, but mentions of sex, some sexual tension, but it's basically fluff, (sorta) cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), nice!rafe, but also mean!rafe, he's quite insufferable, but in a hot way.
Word count: 1.2k
a/n: Just something short and very light I wanted to get out today, for obvious reasons. I still need to write that real part 3, but I'm tagging those who asked for it here. I hope you're not disappointed. The real part 3 will come, eventually. @dope-trope-105 @fabienne6656 @missd3vil @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @ghostlycrystobalove @alyisdead @luvagirlsworld @carlasiilz @noodle81937 @baby19sthings @daydreamerblues @rafesthroatbaby @marauderssmut @samosas0900 @niyahwhoreworld @neyetams @lassie-bird @bea-drew-starkey @dream-pink @daivny @eventualoptimism (some of you I'm not able to tag, sorry)
Great. He was here too. Rafe Cameron was standing over by the bonfire with his entourage, red cup in his hand. Looking at you. And you glared back at him. He lifted the cup to his mouth, so you couldn't see whether he was grinning. But you were sure he was grinning. That smug bastard.
You grumbled, turned on your heels and walked off in another direction, away from the fire, away from him.
You felt goosebumps crawling down your neck, down your spine. He was probably watching you. You did not turn around. You shivered and you crossed your arms in front of your chest, rubbing your naked arms with your hands. It was kinda chilly and you were only wearing a light top. You had meant to stand by the bonfire to warm up, but that was out of the question now.
Because of him.
This night was supposed to be fun. Hanging out with your friends at the party. You needed a fun night, you deserved a fun night after such a shitty week. You'd been working double shifts and your boss was a creep. On top of that, things with your boyfriend weren't exactly fine at the moment. You had wanted to spend some time with him tonight. His best friend suggested going to the kegger. And here you were. Only your boyfriend and his best friend hadn't shown up. They were probably getting into trouble somewhere. As usual. You could still have fun. You didn't need them and you could just ignore Rafe Cameron. He would stay with the kooks while you could go to your friends. You'd seen some familiar faces. Yeah, you would enjoy yourself. But first, you needed something to drink.
You walked over to the keg and waited for the people in front of you to fill their cups. They took ages, because one of the guys was obviously trying to impress some girl with whatever stupid trick he meant to do. You rolled your eyes and were about to say something when you suddenly felt something touching your shoulders.
You froze. But you didn't really flinch when something soft touched your bare skin. With that touch came a scent. A dark scent. Something warm and familiar, you involuntarily closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, letting that scent fill your lungs.
You opened your eyes, tried to shake off that strange sensation and the hands – the strong hands – that were holding your shoulders.
You turned around and looked up at him. Rafe stood so close, you had to lift your chin up, otherwise you'd be just staring at his broad chest.
“What the hell?” You finally managed to speak. It wasn't much but your tone sure conveyed your anger.
He was unimpressed and a very fine smirk appeared on his lips.
“You looked like you were cold. You were shivering.”
“What?” You frowned and Rafe pointed at the jacket he had wrapped around your shoulders. His North Face jacket that felt warm and soft and smelled so strongly of him.
You felt heat rushing to your face.
He leaned closer, his eyelids half-closed as he looked at your chest, which rose and fell with your heavy breaths. Breathing was suddenly so hard, as if you were exhausted. You felt dizzy like something was numbing your senses, making your reflexes slow.
His hand touched your wrist, untangled your arms and helped you into the sleeves. And you just stood there, gazing at him. You were surely in some state of shock caused by his proximity – his scent, his touch.
He tugged the jacket close in front of you. You gasped as you felt that pull forward. Just in time you braced yourself with your hands against his chest. Your palms pressing against his shirt, you could feel his hard muscles beneath. Feel his body's heat.
You looked up from your hands and noticed his eyes move along your neck.
Your breathing hitched as you felt the lightest touch of his thumb brushing your collarbone.
A shiver made you tremble.
“See? You're freezing,” he said, in a low voice, leaning closer, so his face was next to yours, his lips grazing your ear.
“You know, it's only polite to say 'thank you' when someone gives you something…”
You frowned and pushed against his chest.
He didn't move.
But that low chuckle so close to your ear vibrated through your whole body. Made your knees weak, made your lips part, but made you unable to speak.
“You don't have to say it now.”
His fingertips touched the collar of the jacket, so close to your neck. You felt that tingling on your skin, even though he wasn't touching it.
“You can thank me later,” he continued in his low voice. “When you're wearing my jacket while you're riding my cock. Bouncing up and down. Screaming my name.”
The arrogance in his voice fueled your anger. And this time, when you pushed at his chest, you pushed so hard that he actually stumbled backwards.
Rafe stepped back, laughing in amusement while you glared at him furiously.
“Get the fuck away from me! Asshole!” Your hands balled into fists, your body tensing up. You were ready to fight him – that was what you told yourself, when you felt this intense sensation, this rush, this heat – this goddamn throbbing between your legs.
And he just winked and walked away. He actually walked away. And left you standing there. Wearing his jacket. Your hands clenched into fists, covered by the too long sleeves of his North Face jacket. Your heart was beating so fiercely. And your lips remained parted as you just stood there – when you suddenly became very aware of the fact that you weren't alone, that there were people around you who had witnessed whatever just happened.
But like seriously what the fuck had just happened?
Your hand was shaking, but not from the cold, when you took a cup to fill it with some beer. You were suddenly so damn thirsty.
“Ohmygod. Did Rafe Cameron just give her his sweater?”
You frowned as you turned to the group of girls standing close to you.
“I don't understand,” said another girl. They were kooks you could tell not just from the expensive clothes but also from the bitchy expressions they were wearing.
“Don’t you know what that means? He gave her his sweater and today's the third of December!”
You frowned. Then you remembered that stupid tiktok trend.
“It doesn't mean that!” They were taken aback when you spoke to them. You felt the need to clarify this – though you weren't even sure what it meant.
They kept on whispering and shooting you dismissive glances as they walked away.
“It's not even a sweater! It’s a jacket!”
A very cozy and warm jacket that smelled like him.
“Goddammit.”
756 notes · View notes
cinnamonest · 2 months
Text
Genshin x Reader - Silent Treatment
Okay so this was for an anon a while back that requested Childe + silent treatment, so 1) I got carried away and wrote the same prompt for several others, and 2) I lost the original screenshot of the ask I was going to post this with, sorry anon, but I have the content for it at least :’)
(includes: Childe, Xiao, Albedo, Heizou, Cyno, Kaveh, Kazuha, Xingqiu)
//this is mostly very lighthearted but there's still implications of yandere content. Some mild pain, Childe’s contains very mild nsfw, there might be indicators of fem reader somewhere in here, Kazuha’s and Xingqiu's are a little darker so both of those are at the bottom
Tumblr media
Childe
“Hey.”
The second time he said it, he waved his arm to catch your attention, as if under the impression you somehow didn't hear him, despite being trapped to the confines of the same small room.
One little bedroom, far too small at that, a temporary lodging whilst on the ship’s return voyage home. Four days, which you were about halfway through at this point.
You were thoroughly convinced it was some sort of trial imposed upon you by a higher power. The sort of grueling test of perseverance so common in tales of legendary heroes, through which they'd become stronger, or reach some well-earned reward for their virtue.
Unfortunately, you had a feeling no such reward awaited you.
“Hey…”
The third time, it was more like a whine, he slouched over in the chair on the other side of the room before, after another moment of pause, setting aside whatever oh-so-important paper he was reading (those identically-masked soldiers were always handing off important things he was supposed to sign, but he never looked over them for more than a few minutes), and walked over to where you sat, needle in hand, mending his clothes after he got them torn for the umpteenth time, no doubt doing something completely unnecessary, after very specifically requesting he be more careful, and— well, it was one of many reasons why you were so very irritated.
He waved his hand directly in front of your face. “You spaced out or something?”
You clenched your jaw, exhaling a huff of frustration through your nostrils before jerking your head away, returning to your work.
He bent his knees slightly, crouching down to get at eye level with you, but you kept your gaze fixed, refusing to make eye contact.
Even though you kept your gaze to the task in your hands, he was still directly in front of you, and thus you could still see his face go through the stages of reaction. First a slack-jawed confusion, then eyes widening with realization, and then — much to your dismay — you saw the corners of his mouth turn upward into a sly, eager grin.
“Are you ignoring me?”
You gritted your teeth, eyebrows furrowed, poking the needle through one side of the cloth before reaching around to pull it through, making sure the action was harshly done and thus conveyed your frustration.
Which was, predictably, taken as a confirmation.
“Awww. That's so mean.”
His tone was obnoxiously gleeful, playful even — you were hoping for a negative response, not whatever this was. You tried to conceal any reaction yourself, knowing he'd only be satisfied if your irritation showed on your face.
“But, you picked a really bad person to try that with, you know. I'm pretty good at being annoying if I want to.”
The immediate retort that came to mind — that he could be very annoying even when he wasn't trying — took all your willpower to refrain from speaking aloud. You grinded your teeth.
“Hmm…”
You didn't like that sound. He was contemplating something, that couldn't be good for you.
His hand latched onto your wrist, forcing your work to a halt — at least he had the decency and forethought to specifically grasp the needle before yanking the whole thing away from you, setting it on the bedside table. Likely messing up your handiwork, you thought with ever increasing frustration.
Before you could move away, the mattress shifted and bounced with the sudden added weight as he moved onto it behind you, grabbing you by your arms, pulling you back against him. His arms wrapped around your body, firmly pinning your own arms to your sides. He then rested his chin on your shoulder — you could feel the smile on his face as the side of his face brushed against your neck.
Ah. So that was the tactic. The message, unspoken as it was, was clear — he had no intention of letting you move until you spoke to him.
You clenched your jaw and closed your eyes, refusing to give in.
A minute or so passed that way, likely testing your reaction, waiting to see if you'd give in so easily. The unfortunate thought occurred to you that he would probably be disappointed if that alone worked, that he probably wanted you to make it more difficult, and was likely enjoying the challenge. Perhaps you should have put a bit more thought into the plan, but it was too late now.
Your body stiffened as his hands met your bare skin — one reaching up your shirt, the other maneuvering underneath the waistband around your hips, groping at the sensitive flesh beneath. Your jaw clenched, and your hands balled into fists, the discomfort no doubt evident on your face, but you maintained your silence.
“Oh, wow. You're pretty dedicated to this, huh.”
You hated the fact that he sounded amused, more or less a confirmation that he was in fact enjoying this. Dammit.
You bit your lip, trying to focus on looking around the room — not that there was anything to really look at — and not the sensation, nor your increasing desire to give it up for the sake of strangling him. He continued the discomforting motions for another few moments, but soon gave up, slouching forward against you and returning to holding you still in his arms.
…And then, nothing. At least, for a moment. Only his arms wrapped around you, and the quiet, only dispelled by the low sounds of the ocean outside.
And then—
You squealed, lurching forward as a sharp pain shot through your shoulder. Your back arched and you jolted as you tried to squirm, only held back from doing so by the iron grip holding you in place.
You tried to turn your torso around, struggling against the grip, sputtering in near disbelief as you attempted to speak, voice quickly going shrill.
“You—you just— did you just bite me?!”
Rather than give any response, he merely pulled you to lean to your other side, bringing his mouth up to your opposite jugular, taking a dramatically deep breath, no doubt just to elicit a reaction.
And admittedly, it worked. “No no no, don’t you dare—eek!”
You squealed again as his teeth sank into your flesh once more, keeping a firm biting grip for just a second before releasing you again.
You began to squirm, trying to pull yourself away. “That— the hell? I was already talking to you, you little…!”
“Mhm. I know.” He pulled you back effortlessly despite your efforts to pull away, resting his head on your shoulder, nuzzling the side of his face to yours. “I just wanted you to make that noise again.”
A low, grumbling noise of irritation came out of your throat. You finally went limp, resigning yourself to your defeat.
“Fine!” You sighed. “What is it?”
He paused.
“…Eh?”
You could hear the confusion in his voice. You sighed.
“You were trying to get my attention, remember? What were you going to tell me?”
“Oh. Uh…”
There was another pause. A few seconds of quiet passed before he finished—
“I actually don’t remember now.”
You closed your eyes and let your head fall forward, saying a small prayer to the gods that this ship sank and took you with it.
Tumblr media
Xiao
“I'm going to get food for you. Do you have anything particular you want?”
With those words breaking the silence, you now had your chance to carry out the intended act of spite you’d spent the last hour planning in your head. It had been quiet for some time, making it a bit difficult to exercise said plan. Your captor was perfectly content with silence itself, which meant that this was, perhaps, not the best tactical approach, but you didn’t exactly have many tools of conflict at your disposal, so this expression of resentment would have to do.
Clenching your jaw, you exhaled in a frustrated huff, turning onto your side to face away from him. After a few moments of pause, he spoke again, seeming to not understand your lack of response.
“…I was asking you a question. I need to know what to bring back.”
Still, you didn’t reply.
You heard him shuffle over to you, feet brushing against the cold stone floor, before you felt his hand grasp your shoulder through the blanket, giving you a light shake.
“What do you want? You need to tell me.”
“…”
A few more seconds of silence passed. You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel the staring on your back as he seemed to slowly piece together the significance of your current behavior.
“…You are doing this on purpose.”
He gave his conclusion as if it needed to be said aloud, apparently less immediately obvious to him than it was to you. After a few more seconds, in a similar tone, he drew another conclusion.
“You’re upset.”
If not for your current effort of silence, you would have made some snarky comment about his brilliant deduction skills.
But you said nothing. Your eyebrows furrowed. Part of you did want to lash out, to express your irritation verbally, but you forced yourself to stay silent. More seconds of silence passed by.
Taking your lack of reply itself as confirmation, his next words took on a tone of increasing frustration.
“This is pointless. What do you accomplish by ignoring me?”
“…”
“You will die without food.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…Stop that.”
“…”
A minute of silence passed. The adeptus was seemingly uncertain of how to proceed, perhaps confused to your whole purpose with the effort of silence.
And then, you jolted at a sudden sharp pain as the cartilage of your ear was grasped and subsequently twisted.
“Ow ow ow!!” You bolted upright, jerking your head out of his grasp, clasping a hand over the now-sore ear as the momentary pain began to ebb away.
You glared, narrowing your eyes. “Was that necessary?”
He folded his arms, an equal look of displeasure on his features, and with a deadpan voice, replied—
“Yes.”
You waited for anything further he had to say, but it seemed that was all he had to say. You sighed, slouching over.
“…I dunno. Just get me whatever’s easiest for them to make.”
He folded his arms.
“Why didn't you just say that then?”
You merely shrugged, not having the energy nor the desire to explain any concepts of human social phenomena — a process that was always frustrating and time-consuming — on this day in particular.
After a few moments of pause as he looked to the ground, he looked up at you again, eyebrows furrowing.
“…Don't do that again.”
You nodded, exasperated, and closed your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I won't.”
You opened your eyes, turning your head to look at him, only to be met with an empty room, only the faintest trace of color, like a flickering light before it faded.
And thus, you sighed, laying back down in bed, resolving to try and conjure up a new tactic.
Tumblr media
Albedo
“Hey, do you mind turning that light off?”
It was the first time he had spoken to you since your earlier fight. Well, perhaps ‘fight’ was not the best descriptor — it was more like you getting upset over something trivial and whining, only to get increasingly upset when he gave only his typical dry, snarky replies, ultimately ending with you turning your back to him — but nonetheless. It seemed he thought that enough time had passed that you would be over your petty anger.
He would find that assumption to be incorrect, and as childish as it was, you felt some satisfaction by remaining silent from where you sat upright in bed. You rested your head against your hand, turning your gaze out the window.
“Hey, ___,” he said your name again, trying to gain your attention. “The light, next to you.”
Still, you didn’t reply, this time closing your eyes as if to block him out, this time turning your body away from him and towards the window instead.
“…Ah. I see.”
You waited for him to continue, to press you about why you were upset so you could resume your earlier ranting.
But then, there was only silence.
You waited another moment. And another. And another.
But he didn't say anything further.
After a minute or so had passed, you slowly turned your head, confused by the lack of the reaction you had desired.
Seeing you turn in his peripheral vision, his motions of whatever he was working with paused as he turned his gaze towards you, tilting his head. “Mm?”
The bastard had the audacity to smirk at you. You glared, jerking back to turn away from him again.
…And more time passed. You waited. Minutes turned into an hour. And then another. You picked up a provided book to read after the boredom became unbearable, deciding that as long as you still gave him a cold shoulder, he'd still get the message.
…And even more time passed. A third hour. The sun fell and set and it grew dark, moonlight — and the light you'd still neglected to turn off — illuminating the room.
And then, finally, around three and a half hours after your initial interaction, after you were already lying down for the night, you heard the distinct sound you'd come to recognize as him putting the various tools away into a drawer. Then footsteps that pattered around the room, putting a few other things back into their proper places, the rustling of clothes being removed, and finally, the footsteps came close.
The mattress shifted and creaked as he climbed into bed next to you — finally turning off the lamp as he'd requested. He leaned over you, turning the blinds shut, and then, laid down in bed.
…And then there was only quiet.
The irritation swelling in your chest finally boiled over. You bolted upright.
“…Ugh! You— you…!”
“Oh, and here I was worried you were developing a throat cold.”
The dry-humored reply only served to infuriate you further.
“Why didn't you say anything?”
He didn't bother sitting upright himself. You could make out his form, but perhaps it was a good thing you couldn't see his face, as it was certain either a smug or unbothered expression that would only anger you further.
“My patience exceeds yours. It was just a matter of waiting.”
Your fists clenched so hard your hands trembled. You opened your mouth, but before you could give a spiteful reply, the sheets shifted as he sat up alongside you. His arm reached out, wrapping around your waist, and firmly pulled you back down to lie side-by-side.
He took a deep breath in, a heavy sigh out. “I'm pretty tired now, though. I understand you have some complaint to make, but I’d prefer you save it until tomorrow. Is that alright?”
Your eye twitched. You crossed your arms, turning your back to him.
“Jerk.”
“Mhm.” His arm reached over and pulled you close, your back pressed to his chest. “Goodnight.”
You huffed, pouting, but nonetheless—
“…Goodnight.”
Tumblr media
Heizou
“Hey, so, I noticed there’s no food made or anything… it’s fine if you’re tired,” he raised his voice just enough as was appropriate for speaking to someone from the next room over. “I can go pick something up.”
The ever-upbeat tone to his voice only irked you further. Normally, you would have had food made yourself by the time he’d been home — now he’d been back for half an hour, and had finally walked into the kitchen to grab something, seeming to notice your act of protest. You’d been hoping he would immediately suspect something was wrong, but of course, he was too optimistic for that.
“But, if I’m going to do that, I need to go now,” he continued, as he made his way back into the living room, “before all the stalls close for the day.” He came to stand directly in front of where you sat on the couch, huddled with your blankets.
You said nothing, keeping your gaze turned to the floor. He tilted his head at your silence.
“…That good with you, or…?”
Several more seconds passed. You huffed, turning to the side.
Thus, it finally seemed to click with him.
“Oh dear. Cold shoulder.” Much to your irritation, though, he only sounded amused, not genuinely upset. “What might that be for?”
You gritted your teeth, pulling the blanket over your head, just leaving enough space for you to see. You could still see him from your side as he sauntered over a few steps, leaning over against the wall as he continued.
“I’m being serious, you know. I don’t know why you’re upset… although I suppose forcing me to figure it out is the intent, of course.”
Every word that came out of his mouth only made you angrier. The audacity to sound so smug, a playful sort of dramatism he always seemed to carry in his voice. It irritated you to no end, especially in moments like these.
And to make matters worse, you could see him smile in your peripheral vision.
“I know you probably intended this to make me upset or something, buuuut, you’re really just giving me a challenge to figure out.” You didn’t miss the cocky expression on his face. “And that’s kind of my thing, you know?”
…You supposed he was right about that. Dammit. You probably should have thought about that before deciding to go through with this… but it was too late now. You merely shifted around, pulling your knees up to your chest, hoping your frustration showed on your face.
“Will you talk to me if I get it right?” He only waited for a single second before seeming to realize the futility of the question. “Ah, well, I guess asking that is pointless. Hmm…” He put his hand up to his chin in a pensive pose, speaking aloud as much to himself as to you. “If you just wanted me to get you something, simply telling me would be the more logical course of action.”
Your mouth pulled into a taut line with your irritation. You waited, listening as he continued his deductions.
“You don’t have any complaints that have gone ignored or anything… and even then, you’d probably just remind me if there was something I’d forgotten to fix.” He stood back upright, beginning to pace around on the floor. “Besides, this sort of behavior generally indicates that the other party has committed a specific transgression. If you just wanted something, this would be an impractical way of going about your goal.” He nodded, as if confirming the thought to himself. “The whole silent treatment thing is generally just a means of communicating displeasure, so that the offending party is forced to acknowledge their transgression.”
You pulled the blanket fully over your head, flopping down onto your side in exasperation and frustration, listening to him go on. At this point, his analysis was starting to feel humiliating, the description of it more or less a reminder of just how petty and childish it was. You felt a burning sense of embarrassment in your chest as you curled up into a ball, hugging your knees.
“There are two major factors to narrow it down — an active or passive transgression,” he continued, “and if the former, was it something I said, or something I did? Hm…”
You heard his footsteps make their way around the room as he spoke.
“You were talking with me normally this morning, and I didn’t notice any hostility then, so it would have to be something occurring just within the half hour or so since I came home, or—”
And then, he stopped mid-sentence.
“Ah.”
The tone of voice of that single syllable was immediately recognizable as realization. You felt a surge of bitterness come up in your chest again, and although it was embarrassing, you were still determined to get your point across.
“You forgot,” you finally muttered. Your voice came out incredibly whiny and petulant, but at this point, you just dealt with the nagging sense of shame.
“I know, I know. I said we’d go take a walk and get some food when I got back, right?” You heard his footsteps draw closer, coming over to you, and the couch cushions shifted with his weight as he sat down. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? It was just a busy day, is all.” He reached over and rested his hand on your head through the layer of blanket. “I’m not going back on what I said, I just forgot. We can still go, we have time.”
You slowly sat up, pulling the blanket back down and uncovering your face. Your face felt hot, you looked down to the ground, unable to bring yourself to look him in the eye.
“…Sorry,” you murmured. Now that it was over, you felt horribly embarrassed by the whole stunt you’d pulled. You buried your face in your hands.
“Aw, don’t be upset. It’s fine.” He stood up, smiling, extending his hand out for you to take. “Come on, the lines will get long in just a few minutes.”
Now, you were actually quite grateful for his cheeriness. Still flustered, but humbled, you grasped his hand, letting him help pull you up. “Okay.”
“Mm.” He took a few steps over to the door, turning the knob, before coming to a halt. You saw the expression on his face waver, the smile twitch. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but stopped short, closing his mouth again and taking a deep breath—
“I won’t talk to anyone.”
You gave him the assurance before he could ask, your voice quiet, as if by speaking softly, the matter itself could be more easily swept away once you were done addressing it.
He let go of the breath he’d taken, exhaling as his shoulders relaxed. For just a second, there was some discomfort in his expression, but it was gone within a moment, replaced with another playful smile.
“Ah, thanks.”
And thus, he turned the handle, pulling you out into the fresh air, and the many faces of strangers you’d learned to pretend didn’t exist.
Tumblr media
Cyno
“I'm going to head out in just a minute. You can come with me, if you promise to behave well.”
You grinded your teeth. The choice of words was irritating enough, but you were primarily angered by the mere notion that being able to go outside — such a simple, basic right — was somehow an earned privilege.
No matter. You were already determined to ignore him anyway. You chose not to respond, returning to the book in your lap as you sat on the bed, refusing to turn to face him where he stood a short length away.
Sure enough, after a moment, you heard his footsteps on the stone floor, gradually coming around to your side, leaning over to try and look at your face.
“…Did you hear me? I was saying—”
You huffed, turning yourself away from him.
There was a pause.
“Oh.”
It didn't sound particularly bothered, only mildly surprised — perhaps that itself irritated you even more.
You saw him tilt his head out of the corner of you eye, white strands of hair brushing against his shoulder. “Isn’t this rather pointless? Communicating your emotions would be faster and easier if you just verbalize it.” After a pause, he added, “You can't keep this up forever.”
He crossed his arms, waiting for a response, but after several moments, received none.
He sighed. “Well, suit yourself, I suppose.”
You were not expecting, however, what came next — the book you were focused on was suddenly torn from your hands. You almost verbalized the ‘hey!’ that ran through your mind, only catching yourself just in time to stifle any noise, but the irritation and surprise surely still showed on your face as you looked up at him in bewilderment.
“What?” He tilted his head. “The obvious course of action here is to do things to upset you into speaking. You have to give it up at some point.” He shrugged. “I might as well expedite that process.”
You inhaled, automatically preparing to retort, but snapped your jaw shut as you caught yourself before you spoke once again. Your hands curled into fists.
He held the book under one arm, quickly reaching over and grabbing the two others sitting on the table beside the bed. “Alright… hm.” He turned his head, scanning the room. “I'll take all your reading material, and leave you alone with nothing to do while I'm gone. That's… maybe eight hours. You’ll have a good deal of time to reflect on your choice, at least.”
Your mouth pulled taut in an expression of displeasure. You didn't like the thought of such boredom.
He made his way over to the nearby desk, scooping up the remaining books into his arms before turning towards the hallway door. He turned his head back towards you.
“Unless you change your mind.”
He then began taking steps towards the door — slowly, deliberately so. It was infuriating that he responded with such calmness, and far more so that he was so easily able to completely overturn your attempt with barely any effort, without even being affected by it at all, and above all, most infuriating that he knew you'd give the exact response he anticipated.
And you did.
“Wait, wait—”
He came to a halt, but didn’t bother turning his head back to look at you. “Yes?”
Your hands balled up into fists, you were so irked by his words and demeanor, but nonetheless, you told yourself, you had no choice. You weren’t about to endure the alternative.
“…Fine…” You stood up, looking to the ground in embarrassment and frustration as you stomped over to where he stood. “I’ll go.”
He gave you a nod. “There, see, that was a much easier way of going about this.” He then took a few steps back towards the desk, depositing the books that had been used as leverage in your bartering as he added, “don’t you think?”
You rolled your eyes, displeasure scrawled on your face. “…I guess.”
You stepped out of the room before he did, waiting for him to exit before following behind him, since you didn’t know exactly where you were going. For a few moments, you merely walked in silence. You didn’t know if he intended to address the matter again — hell, you never knew what he was thinking — but after a minute or so of silence, you got your answer.
“You know, if I were as spiteful as you were being, I might have rescinded the offer entirely,” he said, voice ever so blunt and monotonous. “And forced you to stay in there with nothing to do.”
You grinded your teeth, narrowing your eyes as you looked over at him.
“…Are you trying to get me to thank you?”
He didn’t miss a beat in his reply.
“It would be appreciated.”
You crossed your arms, puffing your cheeks out in a petulant pout, which seemed to get your refusal across well enough. He shrugged.
“Well, it was worth a try.”
Another minute passed. You took a turn down a dark hall, which seemed to prompt another thought to his mind.
“And in the future, you should probably be aware that such a strategy is rather weak. It’s very easy to turn around on the one using it, as you just observed.”
You huffed in irritation. “Yeah, yeah.”
“It’s actually very similar to a common flawed strategy used by beginner card players. You see…”
You sighed in exasperation, pressing your palm to your face as you prepared to tune out the following hour.
Tumblr media
Kaveh
After the second time calling your name with no response, you finally heard him get up, walking over to where you lay in bed. You clenched your teeth, irritation exuding off your form in waves, so you hoped, at least.
As soon as he got closer, you huffed, closing your eyes, waiting for him to speak, and he did.
“Hey…”
Which you used as your cue to turn over, rolling onto your other side so that your back faced him.
There was a few seconds of pause before he pieced your actions together.
“…Are you mad at me?”
His voice was soft and pitiful-sounding, so much so you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.
That momentary guilt was, however, almost immediately replaced with another surge of irritation. No. You knew exactly was he was doing, it was intentional, and you weren't going to fall for it.
He walked around to the foot of the bed, leaning over to look you in the eye.
“Hey—”
But you averted your gaze, pulling the blankets up over your face, turning over onto your stomach.
There was a moment of pause. His tone shifted.
“…Hmph. Fine.”
With that, he turned on his heel, stomping back to the desk at the other side of the room, and sat down, huffing as he resumed his work. You could hear the bitter irritation in his pencil scribbling, much heavier-handed and harsher than moments prior.
You waited for him to say something more, thinking his resolve to walk away from being ignored wouldn’t last long, but to your surprise, after some time passed, he still managed to stay quiet.
And more time passed, and then some more. You’d initially begun ignoring him around ten-thirty or so, and now, you confirmed as you peeked out from under the blankets — having almost fallen asleep — it was well past midnight.
Finally, your attention turned back to him as you heard him put the pencil down. He stood up (you did not miss the harshness with which the chair was pushed back), walked (with heavy footsteps) over to the floor lamp at the side of the room, and turned it off, leaving only the moonlight to cast light through the room.
But rather than coming over to bed, he only made his way back to the desk, dramatically slumping back down into the chair, putting his forearms on the desk before slouching forward and burying his face against them.
And then, there was only silence. You waited, but nothing happened.
It wasn't exactly difficult to figure out the intention. On one hand, your immediate thought was that it was petulant, but then again, you felt a twinge of guilt realizing you were more or less the instigator here (even if it was only in reaction to him annoying you earlier), and that your course of action wasn't exactly mature either.
Well, you supposed the right thing to do now would be to at least try and reconcile. You sighed.
“Kaveh.”
That time, you were the one who only got silence as a response. Turning your own act against you, you guessed.
You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and, having been a bit hesitant the first time, fully committed to resolving the situation. You tried again.
“…Kaveh.”
….
After a few more moments, your voice took on a tone of frustration, which you tried to suppress for the sake of your goal of conflict resolution.
“Kaveh. I know you can hear me. Come on.”
He didn't lift his head, so his response — thankfully giving one, at least — was not only in a bitter, pitiful-sounding voice, but also muffled by fabric.
“What.”
You sighed. “Look, I… I'm sorry, just… come to bed, okay? Let's just forget this.”
Ugh. Although you still figured it was the right thing to do, you realized with disappointment that you were giving in yet again, as you tended to be the one to do. You resolved to be a little stronger-willed next time… then again, you always did that too.
“…No.” Even in the dark, you could see him — albeit only in the form of a vaguely red-white-blonde lump — shift around as he spoke, bitterness in his voice. “You obviously don't want me over there. I'll sleep here.”
You reached up to pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation as the defeat settled in. “No, I… I do. Please?”
Once more, you only got silence, even after waiting for half a minute or so. Finally, you took a deep breath, in and out, and — after a moment of hesitation to ask yourself if you were really going to do this, to which you determined it was for the best, regardless of what it did to your pride — swung your legs over the side of the bed, feet brushing against the cold floor.
Your footsteps shuffled against the hardwood with each of the very few steps it took to get from the bed to the desk. You could see him fidget as you approached.
In what you hoped would be perceived as affectionate, you bent your knees just enough to be at the same level as where he sat, an awkward positioning, but just enough to reach out and wrap your arms around him in an embrace.
“Come on. I’m sorry, okay?”
There was a few moments of quiet, and for a second, you thought maybe you would have no success, maybe he really was that upset. But then, he lifted his head, still speaking in a blatantly upset tone of voice.
“…Only if you tell me why you were doing that in the first place,” he muttered.
You sighed. “I dunno… I was just upset about everything from yesterday, and… look, it doesn’t matter.” You smiled, although you weren’t sure if he could see it. “Let’s just go to sleep… come on, please?”
There was a moment of pause, but finally, he stood up, huffing in residual stubbornness as he walked over to bed, falling flat on his back. “…Fine.”
You were too tired to be annoyed at that point, instead walking over, taking your place next to him. You decided to try and take the high road, so to speak. “…Sorry for ignoring you.”
You reached out and put your hand on his head. He turned, pulling you close, burying his face against your chest.
“…No, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, muffled by your clothing and flesh. “You’re right… let’s just forget it.”
You hummed in agreement. You were going to leave it at that, but after a moment, you felt him shift. He propped himself up on his elbow to speak.
“Hey, wait, what time is it? I was gonna show you the thing I was working on when you wouldn’t talk to me… I can still—”
“It’s one in the morning. PLEASE go to sleep.”
You both stiffened as the muffled voice came through the wall. Several awkward seconds passed.
Ah… you forgot how little privacy this place gave you. You raised your voice just enough to ensure you were heard.
“Sorry, Alhaitham…”
You heard him sigh and turn over on his side of the wall.
“Yeah, yeah.”
More silence as the seconds ticked by.
“I’ll, uh, show you tomorrow.”
“…Yeah.”
And with that, he finally laid back down to sleep.
Tumblr media
Kazuha
“Ah, look at how bright it is. I didn't realize it would be a full moon tonight.”
He had a soft, blissful expression. He was one of those people that always seemed to find a great deal of joy in simple pleasures of life… depending on the circumstances, it could be either endearing or annoying.
At the moment, it was very much the latter. If you weren't so mad, you'd feel bad about what you were about to do.
It would certainly work, seeing as he was talkative by nature, always making little comments as you went about your day. You'd already tried to make your displeasure very clear — ever since you'd begun setting up camp for the night (in the middle of nowhere, where you now spent the majority of your time), you'd given him curt, cold, one-word replies, and the irritation was certainly audible in your voice.
He turned his head towards where you sat cross-legged on the ground, a wide smile on his face. “We should go for a walk, since it's so bright.”
The very last thing you wanted to do was more walking after having spent the entire day doing just that. You clenched your jaw, slouching over and resting your head against your hand.
A few seconds of quiet passed. After realizing you weren't responding, he leaned over to better look at your face, eyebrows raised.
“Hey, is something wrong?”
You huffed a heavy breath, jerking your head away from him.
“…Oh.” You could see him smile in your peripheral vision, albeit now an awkward, uncomfortable sort of smile. “You’re, ah, still upset about earlier, I take it?”
You didn't respond, maintaining your silence.
“…I'll take that as a yes… haha…”
The laugh was as forced and awkward as his expression. He stood silently for a moment, as if hoping it would be a very short effort and that you'd break your silence, but you did not.
“...It seems you really know how to find my weaknesses.” He gave you an awkward, sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head. “This is bothering me more than I would have thought it would… but that's your intention, I imagine.”
You didn't really have any particular direction to take this effort — you didn't have anything you wanted to accomplish with it or anything, it just seemed the only way you could think of to express your frustration. Now, you weren't certain what to do — your only real course of action, you supposed, was to keep it up. You kept your silence. He moved to sit beside you, just a short distance away.
Silence followed, only disrupted by the crackling of the small fire beside you and the wind weaving between the tall grass. He kept up the same cheerful-but-mellow voice as always, the one that so very much got on your nerves whenever you tried your best to exude negativity, which he always seemed to shrug off effortlessly, perpetually unbothered.
Yes, your snide, sometimes even mean comments, your cold tone, your disgusted expressions, those never seemed to bother him at all. He just laughed and smiled and carried on as he always did.
With this, on the other hand, it seemed you’d finally found a weak point. You resisted the urge to grin, quite pleased with having found a greater success than you’d even expected.
Meanwhile, his own smile continued to falter, twitching right alongside his arms.
“If there's anything I can do that will make you… not do this, I'll gladly do it. You just… you know, have to tell me.”
You saw his fingers curl, straining the fabric as they dug into his thighs with such force and strain that they began to tremble.
But for a few minutes, he did nothing. Perhaps he was just waiting, giving you time to see if you'd change you mind, or maybe he just couldn't decide how to proceed. You kept your gaze focused on the scenery, the blades of grass as they waved back and forth in the breeze, the reflection of the moon wavering in the pond off in the distance. As irritated as you were, the landscape was admittedly quite serene.
You were brought out of your focus by the rustling sound as he stood. You remained still, but your heart began to accelerate as he took a few steps towards you, his ever light-footed way of walking barely making a sound, maneuvering behind you before slowly sitting down.
He shuffled forward, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you back. Once your shoulder blades touched his chest, he tilted his head forward, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
You fought the urge to squirm. You didn't like the quiet. Something about it, in that moment, was ominous, suffocating, as if some innate instinct was telling you something was wrong.
When he finally lifted his head, he spoke directly into your ear, breath warm against the flesh.
“I don't want to hurt you.”
The sudden quiet, low voice sent a chill down your spine. You found yourself going stiff, eyes widening.
His grip tightened, squeezing your waist firmly enough that it began to hurt.
“…I don't like doing that… it makes me feel really weird, you know…?”
It grew tighter. His fingers began to dig into your sides, ten small points pressing with painful force. You stiffened, body reflexively arching forward to get away from the pain, but they only dug in harder, pulling you back.
“But,” he continued, voice low and quiet, so soft yet somehow so chilling, “I really don't like you doing this.”
Your heart felt as if it were pounding out of your chest. Your breathing grew quicker.
He tilted his head downward, resting his forehead against the back of your neck. The final words came out wavering, almost a whisper.
“So… you’ll stop this, won’t you?”
You swallowed. Your response came out instinctively, the dread you felt having easily defeated your stubbornness.
“O-okay,” you stuttered as you spoke, “I'm sorry, I didn't… I didn't mean to make you…”
The pain came to an abrupt stop, his entire body relaxed with a heavy sigh of relief.
“Ah, haha,” this time, he squeezed you in his arms only enough to convey affection. “I was worried for a moment there.” His voice immediately shifted back to its usual timbre, soft and soothing. “I’m glad you weren’t too upset.”
You shook your head, eyes still wide with fear, needless to say struggling with the psychological whiplash of the rapid shift in the atmosphere.
If he noticed your stiffness, he didn’t say anything, instead opting to affectionately rest his head on your shoulder, leaning his face against yours. “Well, it’s probably too late to walk anyway… and you’re probably tired, too. Hm…” he paused for a moment, then lifted his head, tilting it up to the sky. “We can appreciate the beauty of the night while being sedentary, though. Say, are you familiar with the constellations?”
You struggled to give a verbal answer. “A-ah, well, I…” You swallowed.
“Ah, that’s alright. I know them very well. Right now, hmm… see that one directly above us?”
He started to point up, you let your gaze follow his direction as he began to ramble on about this and that star. Most of the time, you found that soft-spoken but avid enthusiasm rather endearing — although in that moment, you found it a bit difficult to appreciate.
“And a little to the right, those four that form a bit of a square shape, that’s—hey, are you cold?”
“Mm?” You gave your best attempt to smile, knowing he could at least see the side of your face. “I, uh, I guess… why…?”
“You’re just shivering pretty badly,” he replied. “You should have said something. Here…”
He leaned backwards, grabbing the blanket atop your shared makeshift sleeping bag, pulling it over and wrapping it around the both of you, covering you from the night wind that, in reality, barely even did anything to alleviate the sweltering summer heat.
“That better?”
You nodded. “…Yeah.”
“Mm, good. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”
Once you nodded, he wrapped his arms around you again, pointing back up at the sky and resuming his lesson.
Tumblr media
Xingqiu
“There’s a yearly festival going on tonight.”
You were already irritated, but the cheerfulness in Xingqiu’s voice when he came bounding into the room certainly did not help.
He quickly made his way over to where you sat, leaning over to the side to better look at your face.
“It’s one of the most exciting ones the harbor holds, in my opinion. We should go!”
Silence. You said nothing in reply, only curling your fingers into fists, clenching your jaw and looking down at the floor.
A few seconds passed as he processed your response, or rather, lack thereof. Given the dispute that had taken place a few hours ago, you were certain it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out.
“Ah… aha… surely you’re not still upset about earlier, are you?” He tilted his head, the smile on his face unwavering. “Come on, this will be fun. It’s only for a few days, so we should really make the most of it.”
More silence. Even though you didn’t speak, you didn’t try to hide the spite and irritation on your face.
He then crouched down to get face-to-face with you. His smile was still there, but his eyebrows shifted to an expression of displeasure, the top and bottom halves of his face seemingly misaligned.
“You’re not going to let some silly little disagreement ruin your whole day, are you?” He reached out, patting the top of your head. “Come on, now, you’re more mature than that.”
You almost snapped at him, but you held your tongue. You had become increasingly aware of the subtle ways he seemed to manipulate your thoughts and feelings, slipping in little choices of words to have very specific effects, like with the last thing he’d just said. It irritated you to no end — much more so how often it worked, only for you to realize it later on.
But not today. You were going to be firm, resolute, not let him influence you, so you told yourself. You huffed a heavy breath, crossing your arms and jerking your head out from under his hand.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his expression shift — his eyes narrowed, his smile fell, and you heard the soft -tch of disapproval as he stood upright — only for his face to shift back to a pleasant expression as quickly as it had fallen to an unpleasant one, a degree of composure worthy of being called a honed and trained skill.
He sighed, overdramatically so, holding his hands out palm-up at each side and shaking his head. “And here I was trying to do something to make you happy. Oh well.”
He turned on his heel away from you, facing the door.
“How unfortunate. I suppose I'll just have to go by myself.”
He began to walk towards the exit, each step deliberately slow, an unmistakable smugness to his eloquent, dramatic way of speech.
“Of course, I'm sure my father will ask where you are...” he sighed again, shrugging his shoulders. “I'll just have to tell him that the spouse he found for me is so very disagreeable.”
You clenched your teeth. You could feel it coming, knew exactly what the next words out of his mouth would be. You nearly trembled with how hard your muscles tensed.
He paused his steps right at the edge of the door, and without bothering to look over at you, in a voice just so perfectly quiet, he added—
“I'm sure that will have a positive effect on your family’s standing with mine.”
You clenched your jaw. There it was. The one card he always held, an instant defeat.
“Wait…”
The word came out of your mouth on impulse. You winced at your own failure, but it wasn’t as if you had much of a choice.
Then he decided to turn around.
“Oh?” He tilted his head, cheerfulness returned to his voice and expression. “You’ve changed your mind?”
You shuffled over to where he stood, keeping your gaze to the ground. “…Yes. I’ll go.”
“…”
There was a pause. His eyes were half-lidded, the look on his face and the heavy tension in the air making it obvious what was expected of you.
But again, choice was not a luxury you had. You swallowed your pride.
“…Sorry for… being like that.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, that? It’s no big deal, really. I’m not upset at all.” Then, he extended the same hand out to you. “You’re ready, then?” He smiled, this time seemingly back to a genuine cheer. “I already have a route planned out to get us to all the best spots in one night.”
You nodded, taking his hand in yours.
“Sounds great.”
455 notes · View notes
nohaijiachi · 5 months
Text
Why I Think The Fandom Has Been Doing Aziraphale Dirty Ever Since Season 1 And It's Only Gotten Worse With Season 2 And It's Killing Me Inside
Before we get into the subject matter of the title let me preface a couple of things:
1- All that will follow is, big surprise, my opinion and my interpretation of this character. Do I think I am The One And Only Who Gets The Blorbo Right and that my ideas are 100% the way the author(s) intended to convey the character? No.
More likely than not the way I see Aziraphale could be intensely different from the way Authorman sees him, or Actorman sees him, and I don't think that my interpretation is necessarily any more correct than anybody's else.
That said, if I also did not think that I am, in fact, correct on a certain level, I wouldn't have bothered forming such a thought out opinion of Aziraphale in the first place, nor would be sitting here, writing this post that I can already tell is going to be entirely too long and might probably ruffle some feathers.
So I'll be writing the rest of this post with the caveat that I while I do think my interpretation correct, I'm also not trying to change anybody's mind nor to discredit anybody's else interpretation of Aziraphale. We can sit here in the sandpit and hold different opinions and still be able to build sandcastles together, it really isn't that deep at the end of the day; I can assure you, I'm not here to fight nor cause fights with this one.
2- With the above point, comes also the fact that I won't bother continuously saying "In my opinion" for the rest of this post. You already know that. So, if something will come across as a bit caustic, do know that it is very much tongue in cheek and I am poking a bit of fun at general fannish habits that I am also very much quote-unquoute 'guilty' of having partaken into, and will partake into again plenty of times in the future, I'm sure.
So, with that: Here's Why I Think The Fandom Has Been Doing Aziraphale Dirty Ever Since Season 1 And It's Only Gotten Worse With Season 2 And It's Killing Me Inside
A large part of the people comprising this fandom prefers Crowley. There, I said it.
This fandom's preference blatantly skews toward Crowley. Can we admit that openly? Let's admit that openly.
To be clear, this isn't meant to be an accusation or recrimination or any other -ation you can think of, I am merely stating matter-of-factly a phenomena I've observed in the last four years.
It is also not a wrong nor bad thing in any way, shape or form. I adore Crowley myself. I love them both so much it's unreal.
But I started with that because I think it is very much a symptom of the fact that a lot of people don't get Aziraphale.
I remember back with S1 there had been plenty of times when I found myself reading discussions and opinion exchanges about Aziraphale and Crowley, their dynamics, all the things that went unsaid behind the things that were said, and found myself genuinely surprised by seeing how some people interpreted certain moments wildly different from how I personally saw them.
I look back at that and I think "Oh, sweet summer child". Nothing could have prepared me from the onslaught of takes about Aziraphale that make me go "Good lord, what???" in the wake of S2, and the infamous Last Fifteen.
Now because I don't want to be pointing fingers at specific things and risk upsetting somebody more than I already am by being open in admitting that, guys, yes, some of the takes y'all have been sharing make me go "Yikes(tm)", I'll move on the interesting part and what I would actually love to discuss, aka cracking Aziraphale's head open and see what that actual fuck is going on in there.
Another preface: Because this duo is intrinsically linked and woven together it is downright impossible to only focus on Aziraphale without also mentioning Crowley, so... Let me circle back to our fav demon bae for a sec, here.
I think the reason why it seems that a larger part of the fandom favors Crowley is because I feel like Crowley is a much easier character to grasp. He is very open in his thoughts and feelings, at any given moment us, the audience, have a much easier time watching a scene and sort of ruminating in the back of our heads about Crowley's motivations for saying the things he says and doing the things he does.
That isn't to say Crowley is a less complex character than Aziraphale. They are very much equally complex and multifaceted individuals with their strengths and weaknesses, their issues and the way they each cope with them, how differently they approach their existence and so on and so forth.
But whereas Crowley as a character presents itself with a certain dynamism and a far more outward openness about his complexity, Aziraphale does the exact opposite; we can say Aziraphale is downright hermetic about it.
For us, the audience, he presents a challenge that requires a good deal of thought being put into him to see over the facade he presents at a more superficial level; he requires time and effort to fully dismantle him in our minds to try and see what makes him thick (other than his thighs), and thus I think it is entirely natural that more people latch on the far easier to identify-with, and relate-to, Crowley.
And that is the inevitable consequence of everything that makes Aziraphale... Well, Aziraphale.
So, where to start? Let's try and jot down what Aziraphale truly is at his core.
He is a contradiction.
This man-shaped being is a walking contradiction, constantly existing in a state of being coated in three thousand layers of misdirection and obfuscation and double thinking.
Why is that? Well. He's an angel.
Aziraphale loves being an angel. It is a tenet of his entire existence and something he cherishes. He wants, so very much, to be his ideal of what a good angel is: An entity who is kind and loving and understanding and forgiving.
Of course us, the audience, know that is utter bullshit, because we know angels can be individuals just as complex as the humans Aziraphale loves so much, with all their inherent flaws and capability for cruelty. And, on a certain level, Aziraphale knows that too.
So there we have it, one element of contradiction: Aziraphale wants to think that angels are always Good and Righteous and Never Wrong; Aziraphale knows that angels aren't, in fact, always Good and Righteous and, by god, can they make plenty of mistakes, too.
What else? How about Aziraphale sitting there, being in love with a demon, fully knowing that at the end of the day demons really ain't that different from angels, and also desperately hanging onto the concept of Good vs Bad.
And he sits there, existing with these two contrasting idea equally taking space in his mind, neither side ever capable of taking over the other.
What else do we have? Aziraphale loves God and wants so hard to believe in Her love for humanity and Her ineffable plan, and Aziraphale also time and again does things that very blatantly go against Her will, lies to Her face, and Doubts. He Doubts, a lot, and that requires the capital letter because those Doubts are what spur him in going against everything he's ever told to believe in order to do the right thing.
Aziraphale's very existence is a constant push-and-pull of things he wants to believe and things he knows are real; things he's told to do and things he wants to do. That's how we get "My side" and "there's a bit of good in you" and "you are the bad guys".
And nothing he's lived through has managed to break him out of this unhealthy way of existing quite yet; that's why he acts the way we see him act in the Edinburgh flashback in S2, or at the start of S1 when Crowley has to ease Aziraphale into the idea of trying to stop Armageddon with the usual song and dance of "temptation" and "plausible deniability" and "you'd be thwarting me", even though from the start we can tell there's a little part of Aziraphale who is clearly not at ease with the idea of the end of the world, and once he's been given 'permission' by Crowley nudging him, he is all the way in with the whole saving the world business, not take-backsies.
Both the moments I mentioned here are very important for different reasons, but of the two is very much the Edinburgh flashback that gets a lot more flack by the fandom and is blatantly misunderstood, which I think is the inevitable consequence of that minisode immediately following the glorious, beautiful, heartbreaking piece of art that is the "A companion to owls" minisode.
I've seen a lot of people lamenting that Aziraphale acts obnoxiously in the Edinburgh flashback and, yeah. He does. But I feel like the fact that we are seeing this after watching Aziraphale struggle his way through saving Job's children, even being willing to go to Hell for it, is a though act to follow and probably soured Edinburgh-Aziraphale for a lot of people, made them think that the character had regressed instead of progressing.
But, see, the way he acts is wholly congruous with who Aziraphale is and has always been and keeps being up to the very end of S2. Yes, even after what he does for Job's children.
If you get down to it, Aziraphale had been ready to give up and let the children die, in episode 2. For a brief moment, after Crowley told him he 'longed to destroy the blameless children', Aziraphale was walking away, having tried all he thought he could try to do to stop this senseless act. That was until Crowley tested him by making the crows bleat, cuing Aziraphale to the fact that his impression of Crowley wasn't wrong, and the he could count on him to do the right thing.
To be clear, I don't want to undermine Aziraphale's action by only giving the credit to Crowley but... It is, also, only thanks to Crowley cajoling him and giving him the right excuses, that Aziraphale feels safe in doing what he's always wanted to do all along.
He'd wanted to save Job's children, and thought he couldn't until Crowley threw him that hell of a lifesaver. He wanted to save the world and thought he couldn't until Crowley nudged him on the path of plausible deniability.
He wanted to save Elspeth's eternal soul, blinding himself to the hardships she'd have to endure in her not-eternal life, and was smacked right in the face by the reality of human suffering multiple times.
The way Aziraphale acts in that flashback can't be a regression, because there never was a progression in the first place: He'd always walked the line between Heaven's and God's will and his own, personal morality and sense of justice.
By all means, if we look at Uz-Aziraphale and modern-day-Aziraphale at the start of S1, his reticence about the whole saving the world business should, by all means, appear as a regression as well. You mean to tell me that he'd been ready to become a demon for the sake of three mortal children, and then suddenly a handful of thousands years later when faced with the prospect of the whole world going up in flames he'd just be all like "Heaven will triumph over Hell and it will be all rather lovely"? Like, fuck off, Aziraphale, you lying double-thinker, you (/pos)
Aziraphale constantly exist while being at war with himself. Circumstances have allowed him to rebel the will of Heaven and God more or less safely time and again, but he never quite managed to break free entirely. He'd always ended up being reeled back in, being fed the party lines, being made to feel shame for his independent thinking, until it all becomes too much and he is forced to step back from that freedom he'd been inches away from grasping.
Back and forth, back and forth, never stopping.
And all of this, all of what he is, makes it so hard for us, the audience, to truly see him. To truly grasp him. To truly watch any given scene with him and figure out what he might be thinking or feeling.
To understand Aziraphale is to understand what he is not saying when he says something, which is a good deal harder to do than it is to understand and relate to a character like Crowley, who very much revel in saying exactly whatever the heck he thinks whenever he damn well pleases.
All those layers of obfuscation and misdirection and double thinking that Aziraphale coats himself in are as much an armor that makes it harder for the audience to understand him as they are his very own downfall because, good lord, if you exist like that, if you exist forced to keep things hidden from yourself, well... It's inevitable that at some point you are going to stumble into pitfalls of your own making.
And I love him for it.
So, there? I hope I managed to explain something with this post, and that it wasn't just the rambling of someone who spends way too much time thinking about her blorbos. To be clear, I don't think people who haven't spent as much time as me trying to dissect and better understand Aziraphale's character are like, dumber than me or anything. It's just that this pair of angelic-demonic blorbos take too much real estate in my mind, lol.
Feel free to let me know your opinion and if you think I am wildly off mark and my Take Is Bad. I might answer, I might not, it all depends on time and my mood ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜
906 notes · View notes
thevampywolf · 11 months
Text
Not For Sale
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Genre: husband!Chan, fluff, slight crack
Warnings: slight possessiveness
Request: no
Characters: Chan, Y/N
Word Count: 1.1k
"What's the matter?" Y/N asked as she stirred her milkshake.
Chan's gaze was focused on something past her; there was a darkness to his expression, an eerie shadow passing over his eyes as his jaw hardened. He shook his head, trying to smile lightly at his wife.
"It's nothing. Drink your milkshake, baby," Chan said, nodding towards her drink.
He glared at his view again before looking away. He seemed to be having an internal battle with his thoughts, for a moment later he abruptly scraped his chair from opposite his wife to beside her. The round table was small enough for his sudden proximity to be uncomfortable. But Y/N didn't mind. She rather relished in the sudden warmth he brought with him, like the glow of the sun on her back.
She snorted with quiet laughter when he slid an arm around her, his fingers firm on her lower back.
"What on earth are you doing?" She grinned as she leaned into his side. "Very first date of you."
Chan grinned, lowering his head as he adjusted the cap covering his hair. "Don't mind me … just go with it."
Curious, Y/N nodded. She shrugged his strange behaviour off and slid her milkshake over to him; he watched with sparkling eyes as he took a large sip of the sweet beverage, his eyes falling shut with contentment at the flavour.
"That's good," Chan said, moving the glass back to her. "Better than mine."
"Really? You can have the rest if you want," Y/N said, sliding it back to him.
The man smiled. He squeezed her waist as he leaned in to kiss her sun-kissed cheek. "You drink it baby."
Just then, Chan's eyes narrowed. He stared with fire in his eyes in front of him as he leaned even closer to his wife.
"Can I kiss you?" Chan murmured to her, his eyes not leaving the scene in front of him.
Y/N raised an eyebrow. She was surprised at his question, but pleased. "You know you don't have to ask, Chris."
Smiling at that, Chan cupped her chin. He leaned in slowly before kissing her deeply, his tongue immediately darting into the startled woman's mouth. He slid it against hers, his eyes opening briefly to silently convey a message to the trio of shocked men who had been eyeing his wife up for the past half an hour. He smiled with satisfaction when he saw them finally looking away, and he shut his eyes again, his fingers tightening on his wife.
Y/N's cheeks flushed in an instant but she responded with the slow urgency in her husband's kiss, and she smiled against the pillow softness of his lips. He tasted sweet and cold with an undercurrent of his usual warmth and she giggled quietly when he cheekily bit her bottom lip before pulling away.
"You're crazy," Y/N muttered.
"I'm sorry," Chan laughed, leaning back in his seat again. His hand was still on her body, his fingers circling over her shoulders. He nodded towards the little group who had brought out the protectiveness in him. They were at the opposite end of the outdoor seating, whispering amongst themselves. "You see those guys over there?"
Y/N followed his gaze. Her eyes landed on the men who were now hastily picking up their belongings in preparation to leave.
She nodded.
"They were staring at you," Chan scowled. "In a very gross way. And it's making me very angry."
Y/N smiled up at him. "So possessive, Mr Bahng."
She turned to look at the men again; they were watching her again from afar, and her eyes glinting mischievously, she leaned forward and kissed her husband on the mouth, just as he had.
He chuckled into her kiss, the couple laughing together when they saw the men running away.
"I like that," Y/N whispered to him in response to his earlier jealousy.
Chan grinned easily despite the dark blush spreading across his cheeks. "Do you now, Mrs Bahng?"
"Oh, I do," Y/N nodded as she picked up her milkshake again. "I kind of like when you're jealous … It's very attractive of you."
"You're the crazy one," Chan laughed. He leaned towards her again and kissed her temple, his nose bumping against her head and making her giggle like a child. "You're mine."
"I am," Y/N grinned as she kissed his nose. She suddenly laughed, shaking her head as she leaned back in her seat. "You're kind of reminding me of what you were like when we first met, you know?"
Laughing uneasily, Chan rubbed the nape of his neck. "And how was that?"
"You don't remember? You literally growled and picked a fight with anyone who breathed in my direction because, and I quote, "You're mine and only I get to look at you"."
Embarrassed, Chan covered his red face with his hands. He groaned behind them, his shoulders sagging, and only Y/N noticed his feet kicking each other under the table as he cringed at himself.
"Okay, well, let's not talk about that please," he huffed, rubbing his face. "I'm a changed man."
"Really? Didn't you just very vulgarly kiss me in public because three men were looking in my direction? May I remind you, you usually freak out at the thought of being intimate in front of others," Y/N joked. Her husband had begun to adopt a slightly exasperated expression, his tongue pushed up against the inside of his cheek.
"Listen. They want what's mine … they need to know you're not for sale," Chan replied.
At that, Y/N burst into frenzied laughter. She began choking, and alarmed, Chan patted her back until she regained composure.
"For sale? What am I, a house ornament?" She wheezed; if anyone else had said that to her, she'd have immediately socked them in the jaw. But she knew her husband better than anyone, and she knew he didn't mean to objectify her.
"No, baby no," Chan panicked. "I didn't mean that, I meant - "
"I know what you meant, I'm only teasing you," Y/N nudged him gently. She grinned mischievously and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Also … you didn't prove me wrong. You're still as possessive as ever."
Whining, the man hid his face with the rim of his cap. "Can you blame me? You're the best thing that's ever happened to me … it's not my fault I want you all to myself."
Fondly shaking her head at him, it was all Y/N could do to lean forward and lock his lips in a sweet kiss.
"You're so stupid," she grinned. "I love you."
---
Tag list ~ @koos-euphoria @raethethey @hugs4chan @hotmesshapa @manonblackbeak-trash @hendsernoodle @stanskzseungmin @ateez-babygirl @dalamjisung @dinosdawn @cookiemonstermusic258 @strwbrryfroyo @gazelle-des-pres @qtieskz @stigmvta @necromancersupreme @super-btstrash-posts @changlix-mp4 @exonations @changboobies @jeyelleohe @rae-blogging @planetdemon @dani41 @jumbocircus @octalalica @velvetand-roses @foivetimesacharm @anaaam @waverzzzzzzzz @peachy-flxwr @elizabeth11moreno @lenfilms @xhazmania @starshine-moon @justoutfromdead @snow-pegasus @lixiesbabyhands @bbychannie97 @laylasbunbunny @americanokisses @bluechans @bellamuerte1987 @meowmeowisdaname @chanssmiles @minunivers @septicrebel @bangchans-angel @spacegirlstuff @sstarryoong (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)
2K notes · View notes
starry-nights-garden · 3 months
Text
Ateez and their wordless "I love you"s
✧ Ateez all members x gn!reader ✧ genre: fluff, comfort ✧ warnings: none
Tumblr media
Hongjoong:
makes time for you
of course, everyone saw it coming - he's living a busy life and no matter how tight his schedule gets, he'll make time to meet you or to at least talk to you on the phone in between
but that's not everything
he'll also take care of you (or try his best to)
we all know he's clumsy, but he still wants to do things for you, you know?
whether that's talking you through a rough period in your life or just offering an open ear and a shoulder for you to lean on
or if it's him actually trying to make something for you!!
without realizing he'll be picking up a new skill as he's making you some accessory he thinks you'll like or maybe he'll even be brave enough to try baking you a cake
even if he doesn't succeed, he knows he can always try again together with you, but even then he won't be able to focus on the task at hand because of how lost he gets in the image of you
Seonghwa:
takes care of you
in every way - but especially in an acts of service kinda way
will definitely nag you a bit if you're the type to be unorganized and chaotic, because he knows neat surroundings simply make you feel better than clutter everywhere!
reminds you to eat three meals a day, to get enough sleep, etcetc, and yes it gets annoying at times
but he also understands that maybe it's hard for you to stay organized, or maybe you're going through a stressful time in your life where you're too busy to prepare yourself proper meals every day
then he will simply do those tasks for you, and never ask for anything in return
your health and wellbeing are the most important things to him, so he will support you in upkeeping them in whatever way he can!
Yunho:
cheers for you, no matter what
we all know he's the one who does the most to keep a positive energy and to cheer the people around him up
and he'll do the same for you
no matter if you have an important exam coming up, and important interview, or if it's just another day - he'll always be there to have your back and to wish you good luck
you know that no matter how seemingly small or insignificant, you can always tell him about even the tiniest worries you have and he'll take you seriously, calming you down and motivating you at the same time
he's also very social, but another thing that will both make him feel loved and be a way to convey to you how comfortable he is with you is to just sit together in silence
each doing their own thing while still being together so you won't ever feel lonely is another way for him to silently tell you he loves you
Yeosang:
learns about you
and I mean not just a few obvious details
I'm talking everything - he picks up on even the smalles of your habits or preferences that even your close friends don't know about
he's very observant and even more so when he loves someone
gives you small gifts that really aren't a big deal for him, but it might just bring you to tears from how thoughtful they are
it takes him a while to warm up to people and to develop trust, so it will also take him a long time to come to properly love you
but in those moments where he realizes just how safe you make him feel, it's like his emotions overwhelm him
might manage to hold back just until after he asks you whether he can kiss you
but as soon as his arms are wrapped around you and his lips brush against yours, he'll sweep you off your feet from how many feelings he pours into just that one kiss
blushes a lot afterwards, and needs you to not let go of his hands to feel reassured that what he's doing is just right
San:
tells you synonyms of "I love you"
tells you that he appreciates you, that he's thankful to you, tells you you have a beautiful heart
of course he's also one who's big on physical affection, but in moments where he realizes once again just how much he loves you, he knows no words and no gesture in the world would be enough to convey his feelings to you
so he makes it a habit to tell you what he feels frequently
tells you you have a pretty smile when he catches you grinning by yourself, or that he admires how diligent you are when you're working on something late at night
it always comes as a surprise when he does this, but this makes it feel just that much more sincere
Mingi:
gives you a space to be sad
no matter how many good times you two have, nothing screams "I love you" quite as much to him as sitting together in silence and giving you a place to go through a hard time safely
will offer you advice or his perspective on things if you want him to, and he will certainly remind you to slow down a bit time and time again
he's actually very good at sensing when you're having a hard time, even when you do everything in your might to hide it
will be the anchor that grounds you at times like those
but even when times aren't as dire, he's like an open book when it comes to showing that he loves you
the way he looks at you alone gives it away, the way he plays with your fingers when he holds your hand or the way he melts against your touch with every single embrace you share
Wooyoung:
gets protective
he just can't help it okay?
he knows you're an adult and you don't need him to guard you 24/7, but even just not having his arm around you at all times feels off to him
he wants to be there for you at all times - the type to pick up his phone if you call him at 3 in the morning because you have trouble sleeping and you feel like it'd help you to hear his voice
might go a bit overboard at times, it does happen that his urge to protect you and to motivate you to become a better version of yourself ends in a fight
but even then he'll realize rather quickly that he went too far and ought to apologize
your nr 1 hype man, but at the end of the day you know you have a safe place to rest in his arms, and that he'll always accept you exactly as you are
Jongho:
listens
even if you've been complaining about the same thing for weeks, he won't get tired of lending you an open ear and he won't tell you off for it
he knows that sometimes you need to think about the same thing a hundred times until you find a solution for it, and if voicing your thoughts helps he'll be more than happy to listen
sits with you even through the most uncomfortable of feelings and will make sure you know he's not leaving your side even when things get difficult
but he'll also show you his playful side
him joking around with you just really shows how comfortable he is being around you, and you can be sure that your bickering will always end with bright smiles on your faces and sweet kisses as he realizes just how grateful he is to have you in his life
696 notes · View notes