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babybluebex · 3 years

Text

laszlo kreizler nsfw alphabet

so yeah this... Happened. the zemo version is coming soon, stay tuned! (probably tomorrow morning bc a bitch is tired lmao)

(gif credit to @lindir)

A = Aftercare.

Laszlo is such an aftercare king. He’s checking on you in every way he can think of: asking you if you feel alright, maybe massaging your hips if he had you in a weird position, offering you dinner or wine, maybe even a hot bath, if you’d like (and the bath would have special perfumed oils he had sent from Paris because Laszlo is SUCH a self care whore, he’s got soaps and perfumes out the wazoo).

B = Body Part.

His favorite part of yours are your breasts. No questions, hands down. He likes using your breasts as a pillow at night— just settling himself between your legs and resting his head on your tits is a dream he indulges in frequently. He also really loves seeing you in the new French-style of dresses that have a lower neckline, and, if you wear one of those dresses to dinner without telling him beforehand, he’s as good as gone. He’s staring the whole time and can only manage simple sentences.

C = Cum.

I think Laszlo likes to cum inside you, but he also wouldn’t mind cumming on your tits. If you’re on your knees, sucking him off, he’ll pull himself out of your mouth and almost rip your blouse in his haste to set your tits free before his orgasm rips through him. He only chooses to cum inside you if he can’t cum on your tits (for example, if you’re having slow, kissy sex and he can’t bear to leave your wet heat).

D = Dirty Secret.

Laszlo. Loves. To. Be. Degraded. From a psychological standpoint, he understands that his desire to be brought down and ridiculed is born from some sort of childhood trauma that DEFINITELY involves his father, but he just can’t help himself from getting so ridiculously turned on when you call him a dog for humping your leg while you try to sleep. Bonus points if you use his title while you do it: “Just like a little bitch in heat, aren’t you, Doctor Kreizler? You’re so aroused, you can hardly handle yourself. Are you too dumb to touch your own cock? Do you need me to do it? Oh, Doctor, what a dumb little thing you are.”

E = Experience.

Even Daniel himself has said that Laszlo has like NO experience. Laszlo got ZERO bitches (which I find hard to believe but ok whatever you say, writers of The Alienist), so, the first time y’all have sex, he’s more likely than not losing his virginity (let’s not get into the debate of “virginity is a social construct” because a.) IT IS and b.) Laszlo would lecture for hours about this). HOWEVER, these things come naturally to him. He is just Good In Bed. He figures it out very quickly, so, while you make fun of him for going a little stupid when he’s aroused, he makes up for it by bruising your cervix and apologizing later.

F = Favourite Positions.

Laszlo loves that soft, slow, kissy sex, so he’s into whatever position makes it possible for him to be inside you and to kiss you at the same time. Missionary is a go to, but sometimes he’ll have you sit on his desk and kiss your neck as he hikes your skirts up and fucks you all slow and nice.

G = Goofy.

Hardly ever? Laszlo is pretty serious most of the time, and the only time we ever see him Not Serious in the show is when he’s wasted after John’s bachelor party in season 2. So, maybe y’all went to dinner at Delmonico’s, then a ball for members of high society, and he had a little too much champagne and schnapps. He’s not like giggling and all, but his cheeks are red and he’s smiling more than usual, and calling you sweet names “Oh, mein Kätzchen” and “Meine kleine Prinzessin”. That’s Laszlo’s version of goofy.

H = Hair.

OK, my train of thought here is: LOOK AT THIS MAN’S BEARD. HIS BEARD IS NICE AS SHIT. If he treats his facial hair that good— regular trims, the beard oils we all know he uses, even if it isn't strictly canon— then his downstairs hair is nice too. Definitely soft, if maybe a little wiry sometimes (but tbh whose isn’t), and it’s a nice little cropping at the base of his cock. He also has a thin happy trail up his soft tummy, and a good amount on his chest (as we see in the show lol that much is canon).

I = Intimacy.

Laszlo is ALL ABOUT intimacy. You’ll know he’s in a ~mood~ because you’ll ask what’s being served at Delmonico’s that night, and Laszlo is like “I thought we might stay in tonight. John gave me his grandmother’s recipe for chicken soup”. He’ll light candles and pour you wine and play nice music on his gramophone, and he’ll romance you throughout dinner with little hand touches and sly smiles, until he’s kneeling in front of you and slowly kissing up your leg.

J = Jack-Off.

Honestly, he hardly does it. Of course, I’m sure he did it A LOT before he met you, but now he doesn’t need to pleasure himself anymore. He’s got you to do that. The only exception is if he has to travel for work and you can’t go with him. Even then, he’ll hold off until he absolutely can’t stand it, and then he’ll like read a letter you sent him or look at a sketch that John did of you while he whacks off; sometimes, he’ll just hold your letter to his face, and the faint trace of your perfume is enough to do the job.

K = Kink.

He likes impact play a lot (and perhaps a little roleplay wrapped up in it). On the rare occasion that his fucking is anything but soft and lovely, he’s gonna be hitting your ass and the backs of your thighs as you cling to him while he rails you stupid. Laszlo would try to hit your cheek, but he feels too bad when you wince at the pain of it. Spanking your tits is good to him too. His favorite though (and here’s where the roleplay comes in), is caning your ass. He’ll bend you over the desk in his home office and pull your skirts up past your hips, and he’ll make you count the amount of times his thick wooden cane connects with your soft asscheeks. The roleplay is, more often than not, you were his assistant who did something wrong and needed to be punished. If you miss one or forget to thank him accordingly “Thank you, sir”, he’ll focus the next hit on your thighs.

L = Location.

Either the bed or his desk. Laszlo is a little older (I don’t think we ever get an explicit age? But if we say he’s the same age as Daniel, then he’s 40 to 42-ish) so he can’t do it against a wall or anywhere too crazy (not to mention his right arm can hardly support much weight, so if he needs to hold you up, it’s probably not gonna happen). The bed is a special time for you two because of his arm; he’ll hold himself up with his left arm and rest his hand on your hip or wherever to give himself at least a little leverage. But the desk is usually easier because you can sit, or you can bend over and he can grab your hip.

M = Motivation.

He loves you and wants to worship you. It’s truly as simple as that. He loves you and thinks that you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen, and he wants to show his reverence for you by making love to you.

N = No.

He can’t get into the role of “daddy”, nor can he call you “mommy”. Childhood trauma aside, he will be goddamned if Sigmund fucking Freud is correct about his bullshit Oedipus complex or whatever, so he just eliminates that whole thing entirely.

O = Oral.

He’s very good at it. He’s just… His lips are soft and his beard is good, and he’s not afraid to get a little messy with it. He’ll eat you out until he absolutely has to come up for air, and he’ll have a little bit of your wetness clinging to his mustache, but then he’s right back in it. His medical degree is also put to good use here because he remembers his female anatomy and he’s locked onto your clit the entire time. The first time you ever squirted, it was because Laszlo was nipping at your clit and sucking your wet little hole and pressing his thick fingers into you, and it was A Lot To Process, but you squirted and Laszlo came in his pants instantly because he’s like “I didn’t think women could actually do that… I thought that was a thing that penny novels made up”

P = Pace.

Again, he’s a little older, so he doesn’t fuck like some wild boy. He takes his time with you, touching you and caressing you and kissing you, and his pace is the same way. He’s slow and gentle, but has the capacity to go faster and harder if you ask for it.

Q = Quickie.

Hates them. Never. Never ever ever. If he can’t properly romance you and take his time with you, then what’s the point??

R = Risk.

Surprisingly, Laszlo is a little schemer, and he loves running a risk. He’s already looked down upon by other society members, so what’s the harm in squeezing your ass at a party? PERHAPS it’s inappropriate to get caught in a dark corner with your hand down his trousers and him kissing your neck, but it’s easy to blame it on the alcohol.

S = Stamina.

Once more, he is firmly middle aged, so he can do one round— maybe two, if he’s feeling particularly frisky. Usually, though, one is more than enough for both of you.

T = Toy.

HAVE YALL SEEN SEX TOYS FROM THE 1890S?? SHITS ARE SCARY. Laszlo does not like toys, but he understands their need for existing, so he may not like them but he tolerates them. That being said, he likes to watch you use them. LIke, he’ll sit in a chair by the bed and request you “put on a good show”, and he’ll watch you fall apart, and he’ll only come and touch you if you beg and plead for him to.

U = Unfair.

Mhm, so, in Laszlo’s mind, sex and pleasure are not just a give and take, it’s a two way street. They can (and often need to) coexist. He doesn’t like to initiate something if you won’t be able to reciprocate, so he’s not too into teasing or things. At the aforementioned parties, he’ll only goose your ass if he knows you’re 100% down for it.

V = Volume.

He’s fairly quiet. His mouth is usually really close to your ear, and you’re the only one who gets to hear his pretty little noises. The loudest he’ll be is when he’s come home after traveling and it’s felt like ages since he’s made love to you, he’s gonna come inside you, and his little gasp and moan are louder than usual.

W = Wild Card.

He is down to be tied up. He doesn’t like to tie you up, but if he’s the one being restrained, he’s all over it. It’s nothing too intense, just using a ribbon for your hair to tie his left hand to the headboard, not super tight but enough to make his fingers a little tingly, but he loves it. He loves the switch of the dynamic, how he’s fully at your mercy and you can use him however you please; usually, you just suck him off and ride him, but the endless possibilities get him hard as soon as you pull out the ribbon.

X = X-Ray.

Laszlo has Big Dick Energy, so he has to have a big dick. The best example of this sort of energy is in the very first episode after he goes and interviews Wolf, and comes to speak to Teddy, and Teddy is like “you interviewed the suspect? On whose authority??” and laszlo is like “Mine” like OH HIS DICK IS BIG I KNOW IT. He’s got an above average length and girth, but we know our man likes to eat, so some of his weight goes to his dick, so it’s like,,, He’s got a fat cock, sorry, I don’t make the rules

Y = Yearning.

Constantly. Neverending. He’s at work and he’ll catch a glimpse of a pastel drawing that you commissioned from John for Laszlo’s birthday that sits in a frame on his desk, and his heart starts to hurt from missing you. When he comes home, he’ll embrace you and kiss you like he hasn’t seen you in years, and he’ll want to hear all about your day. You have your doctor so whipped for you, and it’s a different kind of whipped than being pussy whipped. He’s, like, feelings whipped.

Z = ZZZ.

He’s a sleepy little baby after you guys finish. His eyes will be a little heavy and sticky as he’s cleaning up and caring for you (and you definitely coo at him “Oh, Las, you’re so sleepy!”) but when you’re both back in bed, our little man is circling his arm around your waist and nuzzling his cheek into your shoulder. He’s so soft and affectionate, and he’s out like a light when you kiss his forehead and tell him you love him.

#laszlo kreizler #the alienist #laszlo kreizler smut #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel bruhl smut #daniel brühl x reader #daniel brühl smut #laszlo kreizler x reader #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl

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wearebothdrunk · 3 years

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hey!! Can you do a pillow talk fic with sebastian stan?

yes, of course!

Pillow talk

pairing: Sebastian Stan x fem!reader

word counting: 1712

Warnings: Smut; some fluff

Summary: Some pillow talk with you and sebastian

A/N: Thank you sm for the request! i loved the idea. i had to add some other things because i´m not creative enough to write a lot of pillow talk lmao. But hope you liked anyway. Also, this is the first time i write smut so i´m sorry if this is to awkward.

disclamer: If the Romanian quote it´s misspelled, please send me a message i took it from google translator.

Tag: @dpr-hoe

* gif not mine*

You and Sebastian were at the Marvel Studios all day because he had to do a lot of photoshoots for the new series "The Falcon and the Winter Soldier", in which your boyfriend was the protagonist.

You loved to be able to be with Sebastian in his work, but after 3 hours you were super tired.

"If you want, you can go home. Take the keys, I'll take an Uber," he said, grabbing your face, giving you a kiss on the forehead and handing you the keys.

" I appreciate your concern, but I think I can handle another hour and go with you," you told him handing him back the keys.

"Okay love, but at least go get something to eat"

"Okay dad" you mocked him.

When he was going to tell you something, you got interrupted by his manager. "I hate to interrupt, but they need you Sebastian for one last shot." His face dropped.

"You need to go," you said trying to give him motivation.

"Okay," he said in a sad voice.

He gave you one last kiss and left for the session.

Sebastian was always very worried about you when you went to one of his sessions or interviews because they left him exhausted, so he didn't want you to feel the same way he did.

You decided to go and buy his favorite dessert to cheer him up, tiramisu. ( i searched that lmao)

you went to a store that you knew nearby to buy some.

By the time you got back, Sebastian was being photographed wearing Bucky's suit and the Cap's shield. He looked damn hot.

"Okay guys, let's take a quick break"

Sebastian ran to you.

"You disappeared for a moment. Is everything okay?" he said giving you a soft kiss on your lips.

"Yeah, I just went to get some food like you told me to."

" oh okay. Two more pictures and I´m all yours," he said smiling and kissing you again.

"I bought your favorite! "

He looked at you confused until you showed him a bag with a box of Tiramisu.

"TIRAMISU" he shouted laughing " this honestly made my day. thank you babe!" he said putting his two hands behind your neck and kissing you passionately.

"I think I have to buy you some more tiramisu han," you said giggling

"Aren't you going to eat now?" you asked him as he put the tiramisu back in the bag.

"I prefer to eat it on you" he whispered

It took you a moment to realize. "Wait... What?" you said

"I have to go, two more pictures."

You smiled. Did Sebastian Stan just said what you think he said?!

* 30 minutes later*

"I'm ready. let's go home".

*when you arrived home*

As you passed your door´s house, you were pulled into Sebastian's arms, leaving a small, almost non-existent, space between your lips and his. You giggled and he kissed you deeply. You both took off your shoes. He began to remove your clothes, starting with your jacket, leaving it on the floor, which you both stepped over. You made all of this without taking your lips from each other. As more you went up the stairs, the more undressed you became. You both arrived in the bedroom with only your underwear on.

"Where's the tiramisu?" he said in between the kiss.

"Why do you need the tiramisu?" you said pretending not to know.

you pulled him back in for another kiss. He pushed the kiss away making you moan.

"Y/n, the tiramisu?" he said impatiently

"downstairs" you mumbled

He pushed you, softly, onto the bed, making you be lying down.

"Wait here," he said in the middle of the kiss and got up.

" don't be long"

Seconds later he was already in the room again with the bag of tiramisu. He set it down on the bed and went straight to you for another kiss.

"God I missed you," you said

"I was only gone a few seconds," he said giggling

" Yeah, but for someone that is horny, that feels like hours" you pulled him in for another kiss.

He began to remove your panties and bra leaving only your necklace on. You began to put your fingers under his boxers to pull them off for good.

"I want to fuck you so bad y/n" he whispered.

"Then fuck me," you said.

He began to run his lips all over your body, making you moan.

When he got close to your sensitive area, you could feel his breath. You put your hands tangled in his hair preparing yourself for what was coming, but to your surprise, he stopped.

"What? Really," you said in frustration.

" calm down babe. I'm not done yet."

You saw him grab the bag with the tiramisu you bought him.

" Really?" you said

He started to take the lid off and put a spoon inside taking a little bit to taste.

"This is really good y/n," he said with a pleased look on his face.

He started to lean towards you.

" do you want to taste it?" he asked you with a smirk

" okay"

he put a small piece of the dessert in your mouth getting you all dirty.

"Oh sorry, let me clean it up" he leaned in for a kiss and created a sensation that you never felt before.

you giggled.

"It tastes so much better on you babe," he said

he started to take some more, getting ready to put it in your belly and the rest of your body.

"Do you want it?" he asked to make sure you were comfortable.

You looked at him without answering. You could feel your heart beating and were sure that he could hear it too.

"That's okay babe, we can just save it for the movie"

you grabbed his hand. "no, I want Seb" you said.

"Are you sure?" he asked again

" yes"

As he heard those words coming from your mouth, he continued what he was doing before.

As soon as you felt the dessert touch your belly you let out a little moan.

" it's cold," you said giggling

He put it in all the pleasured places of your body. When it finally got close to your core you started to moan louder.

" Seb..." you said as you felt his lips sucking the mess he has done on you.

" God, I love you sm," he said in between your moans.

When he was ready, he posed the tiramisu on the bedside table, kissing you again.

" You are so beautiful" he whispered.

he started giving you kisses on the neck, driving you insane.

"I want you, Seb"

"I want you more" he whispered putting his cock inside of you.

you both moan.

As he moved in and out of you, your breaths became heavier.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he said after a few minutes

"God Seb, I'm gonna come too"

he started to go deeper and faster, making you come first

" oh god, you´re beautiful baby" he let out in his moans.

You started to moan louder when he finally came.

"Fuck!" he shouted as he lay down on your side.

You put your head on his shoulder and one of your legs on top of his.

"That was good," you said, looking up into his eyes.

He smiled, " yeah, it was a very good baby," he said pulling your hair away from your face.

"Why were you so nervous when I asked you to do... you know what," he asked you

" Oh, it was nothing," you said, clearly lying to him.

"Babe, the truth please. you can feel free to talk to me about that kind of stuff. You are my pattern, I don't want to put you in uncomfortable situations. "

"You didn't put me in an uncomfortable situation. I liked it, a lot." you giggled and he smiled. "But I was just afraid I wasn't up to your expectations in sex, you know? You're the first person I've ever had a real relationship with. Before you, I only had a one-night stand, which I regret. "

"Babe, you're always higher than my expectations. sex is not what I most like about being with you, although it is great. I asked you if you wanted to do it because I feel we have that intimacy. I've never felt as comfortable with anyone as I do with you," he said.

You smiled and held him tighter.

You started talking and talking about everything and nothing. You felt comfortable with each other after all your feeling for him was unique.

"Say something in Romanian," you asked him

"what do you want me to say"

"I don't know, something"

" hmm, vreau să am o familie cu tine" he said smiling at you.

" That was hot," you said and he laughed.

" I'm sure that's a stupid or dirty sentence by your reaction," you said smiling.

" I said I want to have a family with you,"

You were speechless, did he really felt that way?

"and I mean it" he added. "But I don't want to pressure you or anything, let's do it when you feel read-."

he was interrupted with your lips pressed against his. "Let's do it." you said

He looked at you and you could see his eyes sparkling with happiness.

"are you, are you sure, I mean-"

"yes, that's all I want with you"

he got on top of you and you giggled. " I love you y/n"

"I love you too Sebastian Stan" and then he kissed you again.

" you could teach him Romanian," you said

" him?" he giggled.

" yes!!"

" no, first a girl and then a boy," he said smiling at you.

" Two kids?" you asked him

" well, yes, a boy and a girl, but if you don't want-"

" Two boys and one girl," you told him

" hell no," he said laughing

You spent the whole night arguing and laughing about your future making you both realize that this was all you wanted for life.

( they had two boys and one girl haha)

if you want to repost my story, send me a message first.

#Sebastian stan imagine #Sebastian stan #Sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan fluff #Sebastian stan imagines #Bucky Barnes imagines #Bucky Barnes

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dragimalsdaydreams · 3 years

Photo

ok soooo... I’ve never played Pokemon or watched the show or anything, but my dear friend @cobwebbing got into SWSH a while back and infodumped a lot of interesting trivia onto me, including the thing about fossil combinations. we were both horrified by the implications, to the point that she wrote a fun fic exploring the concept (HIGHLY recommend it), and I got invested in speculating the ACTUAL original Pokemon (also, these designs are technically ‘canon’ to her fic)

I tried to mimic some of the official art in lining/shading, but I don’t think I stuck fully to the ‘cartoony’ vibe of Pokemon. ah well, good experience either way

for ease of reading, I’ll be slotting both the image descriptions AND the extra “Pokedex” info about these guys under the cut-- I thought a LOT about their behaviors lmao. for the image descriptions, please assume that the style of all pieces is a mix of ‘cartoony’ and realistic in form, with solid lines and base colors

+bonus! to see the belly <3

[IMAGE ID: text above the Pokemon reads “Zoomzolt” with a yellow button underneath reading “Electric”. the background is a dull yellow with some areas of shade.

this Pokemon is shaped like a prehistoric raptor, with a small/round horizontal torso, a thin neck curved upright, small arm-wings, lithe digitigrade hind legs, and a thin tail held stiffly out at an upward angle from the body. most of the body is bright yellow with small areas of purple, as will be described. the Pokemon is standing cheerily, facing to the left.

the head has a long snout with a prominent bump emphasizing the tip, where a small purple nostril sits on the visible side. the mouth is held open in a happy gape, showing a purple tongue. the front half of the upper and lower jaws have serrated edges resembling sharp teeth, which seem to interlock. the eyes are closed, the lines of the eyelashes turned up with the smile. a small doodle to the left of the head shows the head with jaw closed and eyes open, showing off glossy black-button eyes with tiny eyelashes, and sparkles floating around the eyes. the head is framed by a crown of large, decorative feathers, all of which are a lighter yellow than the body and sport a couple spots of purple. each cheek also has a single purple spot.

a pair of small arms are held loosely to the sides of the body, each with three bare-skin purple talons with long claws, peeking out from under the fluffy yellow feathers of the arm. each arm sports a set of primary feathers resembling a simple wing, ending at around the elbow. these primaries are a lighter yellow than the main body, with a couple spots of purple near the edges. the overall outline at the trailing edge of the primaries forms a lightning bolt shape. there’s a long decorative feather on each of the wings, close to the body, which extends out into a simple zig-zag, before ending in a rounded tip which resembles a peacock feather with a small wisp and a couple purple spots.

the bonus image removes the closest wing primaries, better showing the lighter-yellow underbelly, and the hind legs. the hind legs are long and lithe, covered in yellow feathers up until the ankle, below which the skin is bare and purple. each foot has three toes, two of which are based flat on the ground with mid-length claws. the third toe closest to the body is raised high, sporting a large, sickle-shaped claw, curved sharply compared to the other claws.

a fan of long, light-yellow feathers spans out from the tip of the tail, resembling both the wing feathers and the crown of feathers on the head, adorned with purple spots. the overall outline resembles a diamond, with a vague zig-zag formed by a few feathers on the sides. two long decorative feathers resembling those found on the wings sprout from the sides of the fan as well.

END ID]

Name: Zoomzolt

Type: Electric

Animal Inspirations: road-runners, cockatoos, microraptors in general

Extra design notes: since the spots on the cheeks canonically match the other fossil in the pair, that gave me free-rein to choose whatever color I felt like, and I eventually landed on purple. I also redesigned the arms/wings b/c the shape was just kinda awkward and dull? I think the new wing shape adds more flair to the design, especially in combination with the tail. btw I only thought of the partly-arboreal lifestyle halfway through the piece, and I didn’t feel like changing the claws to fit it better. just know I’m aware that the wing claws should be curvier, and the toe claws (sans sickle) shorter, lmao

Pokedex entry:

Zoomzolts are a highly social species, roaming the moors and forests in groups of 20 or more. while individuals aren’t particularly strong, their tight social bonds more than make up for the lack-- several Zoomzolts can combine their electric powers and deliver devastating blows to even the fiercest opponents. if this isn’t enough, Zoomzolts are a quick and agile species-- they can race away across the plains or climb up nearby trees before their opponent can recover. their unique feet provide an advantage here-- a marriage between an arboreal lifestyle with the curved sickle-claw for climbing, and a grounded lifestyle with the rest of the flat toes for stable running.

besides scaring off predators, Zoomzolts mainly use their electricity to attract and capture prey. at night, packs of Zoomzolts will gather in the upper foliage of tall trees, settle down, and allow small sparks of electricity to arc across their purple spots-- from one part of the body to another, and from one individual to another. this creates a dazzling light show that many nocturnal Bug Pokemon simply can’t resist. when these bugs venture close, the nearest Zoomzolt will quickly snatch them up before returning to formation.

Zoomzolts are friendly and curious to a fault, known for snooping among human belongings if left alone for too long. they’re very easy to train and bond well with humans, but a Zoomzolt will always need more of their own kind to truly thrive. at least 3 or 4 other Zoomzolts are needed for an individual Zoomzolt’s social/mental health, but not all trainers are committed to keeping that many of one species.

~~~

[IMAGE ID: text to the right of the Pokemon reads “Dunkovish” with a tan button and blue button underneath reading “Rock” and “Water”, respectively. the background is a light blue with some areas of shade.

pictured is a fish-like Pokemon, with a typical torpedo-shaped body and a stocky, blunt head. most of the body is blue, with areas of orange and pale yellow, as will be described. the body is positioned in a downward curve, as if the Pokemon is poised to strike at something off-screen.

the head is heavily armored, with most of the main skull forming one large oblong-dish shape. much of this armor is dark blue, while other sections are a bronze-orange color. the jaws are formed out of large, jagged plates, creating massive interlocking orange teeth. the jaw is gaping slightly open, showing a pale blue inner mouth. the visible jaw hinge is rounded and prominent on the cheek. two small, round, bulging eyes sit just above the jaws, on either side of the head near the hinges. the eyes are pale yellow with black, vertical, rectangular pupils.

a few other large plates of armor (some dark blue, some bronze orange) extend out past the main head piece onto the body, arranged like overlapping scales. these plates all have lines at the trailing edges, implying a simple texture. the main body beyond these scales is pale blue, with splotches of dark blue and smaller spots of orange splattered across the body, arranged in a pattern to imply small scales.

there are two sets “limb fins”, one directly behind the lower jaw, and the other near the tail. both sets are built on prominent lobes extending from the main body and matching the main body colors, before the spines of the fin extend out from the ends, flaring out in a pale yellow. the front set of fins is medium-size, smaller than the head, while the back set is much smaller.

the tail fin starts on the back, in the middle of the spine, and extends down to the tip of the tail, then underneath into an extra lobe of spines. visually, this means the main fleshy part of the tail extends into the upper lobe of longer spines, while the lower, shorter lobe of spines flares out underneath, unsupported. this tail fin is pale yellow.

END ID]

Name: Dunkovish

Type: Rock, Water

Animal Inspirations: dunkleosteus, coelacanth

Extra design notes: added in a rock type b/c of the whole “armored fish” thing, and some orange to complement that

Pokedex entry:

this Pokemon roams the open ocean, traveling dozens of miles every day in search of large prey to attack. once spotted, Dunkovish will swim off an appropriate distance, then charge the prey at full speed, ramming their rock-hard skulls into their prey. these charging attacks can easily shatter bone and internal organs, leaving their prey weak and defenseless as Dunkovish feasts.

Dunkovish aren’t typically a danger to humans, as they usually steer clear of shorelines. small shipping vessels are more at risk, as Dunkovish can mistake the ships for prey and ram into them, causing shipwrecks and major losses.

while their power makes them dangerous for the inexperienced, Dunkovish are shockingly easy to train. they’re very food-motivated Pokemon, so all a prospective trainer needs is a lot of tasty chum and a bit of patience.

~~~

[IMAGE ID: text to the upper left of the Pokemon reads “Arctoise” with a light blue button underneath reading “Ice”. the background is light blue with some areas of shade.

this Pokemon looks to be a cross between a tortoise and a plesiosaur, with a large, rounded shell, two sets of long fins, and a paddle-like tail. the shell is mostly snow-white, while the rest of the body is mostly blue with areas of white, as will be described. the body is floating at rest, fins spread-eagle from the body for balance.

the shell is fairly tall and dome-shaped, with the lower half wrapping underneath the torso, between the front and hind legs. the shell has some ridges at the back implying “layers” of snow, which smooth out as they reach the front of the shell. the base color is snow-white, while the lower two “layers” get progressively darker, into a blue-ish light grey. this grey peters out into spots as it reaches the front of the shell.

the head is long, thin, and sharply pointed, making for a thin spear shape. the snout resembles a dolphin beak-- long and rounded at the tip. the eyes are sharp and triangular, with visible white sclera, light blue irises, and round black pupils. the nostrils are based at the center of the beak, raised up along with a small ridge of bone at the center-line of the beak, meeting the forehead. the nostrils are merged together into a small heart shape. a set of small spiral shapes frames either side of the cranium, implying some kind of auditory system. the neck is tucked into the body in the main art, but a small doodle to the side shows the neck fully extended-- long and serpentine like a heron. while the main body (outside the shell) is an aqua blue, the head itself is mostly dark blue, with a few stripes of aqua blue at the tip of the beak.

there are two sets of long, pointed fins, the front set slightly larger than the back set. the front set of fins sit to either side of the neck, settled into the open body cavity of the shell. the back set extend from the shell as well, just in front of the tail. each fin’s base color is dark blue, with white tips and white spots that vaguely follow the inner bone structure of the fins.

the tail is thick and somewhat short, smoothly transitioning from the wide main body-shell down into a pointed tip. lobes of short cartilaginous fins sprout from the top and bottom of the tail tip, the top lobe taller but not as long, and the bottom lobe shorter height-wise but longer. the main tail is aqua blue, while the fins are dark blue.

END ID]

Name: Arctoise

Type: Ice

Animal Inspirations: sea turtles, tortoises, plesiosaur, herons, anhingas

Extra design notes: in retrospect, the ‘shell’ is prolly meant to be a mane of fur, but I like my shell idea too much to change it (if I were to redo it tho, I might’ve gone for like... seal inspiration? selkie lore?? hm). also certain restorations of plesiosaurs shaped the ‘paddle’ on the tail like I’ve shown, which makes more sense to me.

Pokedex entry:

this Pokemon is closely related to the modern Lapras, as seen in their many shared structural features. many researchers even believe Arctoise to be a direct ancestor to Lapras due to genetic similarities, but this question hasn’t been fully resolved.

Arctoise are very successful predators of the frigid southern pole, utilizing a unique hunting technique. they float patiently out near glaciers, necks tucked into their shells and staying perfectly still for hours on end. when other Pokemon see the Arctoise’s shiny white shell, they’re fooled into thinking it’s a snow-covered glacier, safe to rest on. when the Pokemon settles comfortably on the shell, Arctoise snaps into action, quickly flipping over so their prey is thrown into the water. sometimes this is enough to drown the prey (often true for Flying Pokemon that dropped down to rest), but usually this only stuns the prey. this gives Arctoise the chance to snap out their long neck and capture the prey in their powerful jaws. once subdued, Arctoise will right their body in the water and enjoy their meal.

despite the ponderous size/shape of this species, Arctoise are still able to float quite easily due to air sacs located near their spine (thus, near the top of their shell). these sacs allow Arctoise to carefully control how they float, and help hold the large dome of their shell above the water.

communities of small Water Pokemon often form around Arctoise. the large shell and quiet demeanor makes for a stable underwater haven, and a steady source of food from the scraps that Arctoise leaves behind. they’re usually safe from Arctoise’s appetite, as they’re too small to be considered a proper meal. additionally, these small Pokemon often attract larger prey to the area, providing Arctoise more hunting opportunities.

Arctoise is an aloof species, and won’t respond well to “overly-affectionate” bond-based training. but as long as their space and solitude is respected, an Arctoise is willing to cooperate with a trainer towards mutual goals.

~~~

[IMAGE ID: text to the upper left reads “Dracoleon” with a purple button and magenta button underneath reading “Dragon” and “Poison”, respectively. the background is a light purple with some areas of shade.

there are two Pokemon in this image, one to the left with a “female” ♀ symbol, and one to the right with a “male” ♂ symbol. both Pokemon resemble stocky, low-set herbivorous dinosaurs, with short/thick legs, and round/heavy torsos. the female is far larger than the male, and sports two rows of large spikes along her back. the base color of both is a dark green, with large swathes of magenta patterns, as will be described. both are poised with their heads low to the ground, and the female’s tail raised in a defensive position.

the heads of both sexes are wide and triangular, with sharp points at either side of the skull, and a pointed beak at the tip. their round eyes rest underneath the flat top of the skull, facing outwards to either side. the female’s eyelids are pointed down in an angry expression, while the male’s eyelids are pointed up in a worried expression. their visible sclera are white, and their irises are dark magenta. their nostrils sit on either side at the point of the beak. there are prominent bumps on either side of the skull, just behind the eyes, implying an auditory system. the flat top of the skull is bright magenta, while the rest of the head is dark green.

the small head transitions into the larger body via a thick, short neck, held low to the ground. the torsos are both round, heavy, and somewhat horizontally flat like a lizard. the base color is dark green with a light green underbelly, while the magenta pattern on the head extends all the way down to the tail, covering the full back. several pointed spikes of color stick out from the pattern, trailing down the sides of the torso and legs.

the female has two rows of light magenta spikes sticking out from the upper-sides of her torso, 7 pairs in total. the front-most spikes are the largest, with a horn-like shape that curves out in a wave of out-up-out into a sharp tip. the shape of the spikes gradually transitions from round horns to triangular plates at the end of the tail. the sizes transition from the largest at the front, smaller on the torso, larger at the center of the tail, then small at the tip again. all the spikes point at an angle out/up from the body, except for the very last pair on the tip of the tail, which stick out flatly from the sides of the tail.

the legs of both sexes are short and stocky, with thick underlying muscles. the feet are all digitigrade, but the foot/”hand” sections are very short. the feet all have 3 main toes set flat on the ground, while the front feet have a dew claw set higher on the hand, above the ground. all claws are short/thick and hoof-like, though the female’s are slightly longer and sharper. the hind legs are longer than the front legs, pushing the hips higher than the shoulders. the legs are all dark green with light magenta claws. the female has extra magenta stripes running horizontal across the legs.

the tails are both thick, transitioning smoothly from the thick body down to a pointed tip. the male’s tail is short and stubby, while the female’s is longer, sporting the spikes.

END ID]

Name: Dracoleon

Type: Dragon, Poison

Animal Inspirations: stegosaurus, ankylosaurus. (also.... Kaim from Devilman......)

Extra design notes: I mostly color-picked for the other Pokes, but I shifted Dracoleon’s color a lot from the canon colors. the og colors were just a bit too much for me-- hurt a lil bit to look at. so I shifted the red more magenta, and the green to a duller, more subdued saturation. I’m hoping the purple-shifted red conveys the Poison type better. also added a couple more spikes to the tail for flair.

Pokedex Entry:

due to their heavy sexual dimorphism, researchers originally identified male Dracoleon remains as juveniles of the species. it wasn’t until this Pokemon was fully restored in the flesh that this misconception was corrected.

female Dracoleon are highly territorial, aggressively defending their territory against anything they perceive to be a threat. thus, females are generally solitary, only tolerating the presence of male Dracoleon. this aggression only increases during breeding season, when females compete for male attention, and then nesting season when defending their hatchlings.

male Dracoleon are much smaller and more docile than their female counterparts. while females will actively protect males when the males are still within their territory, males usually find protection in numbers by banding together into small groups. males are as attentive to nesting needs as the females, but since they end up mating with several females a year, they roam in small groups across several territories. they’ll visit one female’s nest to help with food and nest protection for a while, before heading off to the next territory for another round of nest-duty. these transition periods from one territory to another are where males are most vulnerable to predation, so they try to travel quickly.

females’ spikes are covered in a toxic oil which is mostly an irritant to fellow Dracoleon and Poison-types, but can easily kill other species if it penetrates the skin. their magenta patterns build an association between their bright coloring and toxicity, which helps protect the males from predation by association, despite the males not having toxic spikes.

while Dracoleon are herbivorous generalists of thick forest regions, they seem to prefer roots and tubers over foliage. Dracoleon territory is easily identified by scattered areas of dug-up soil and holes.

while male Dracoleon are generally easy to befriend and train, females are very stubborn and aggressive towards most training attempts. however, if an experienced trainer is determined enough to prove their worth to their Pokemon, Dracoleon can become one of the most loyal and trustworthy companions a trainer could hope for.

#pokemon swsh #arctozolt #arctovish #dracozolt #dracovish #pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #WHEW... that was a task

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ajaxwrites · 3 years

Text

GENSHIN IMPACT FANFIC REC LIST II

(previous: part i)

Seaglass by Aevas

There was more to the contract than a gnosis and test of Liyue. It seemed like a simple deal five hundred years ago: so long as Morax never had a soulmate, the Tsaritsa would never harm Liyue and she would not get his gnosis. But the moment he gained a soulmate, all that belonged to him was forfeit. He thought the deal left Liyue safe—he'd lived thousands of years without a soulmate. The Tsaritsa would be dead and gone by the time she'd have a chance to collect.

Five hundred years later, Childe appears in Liyue, Zhongli gains a soulmate mark, and everything falls apart.

(The obligatory soulmate AU, featuring a Zhongli with PTSD, an oblivious Childe, and demon-worshipping cultists.)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: I CANNOT BELIEVE I SLEPT ON THIS FIC FOR SO LONG. Read it and I mean it! I admitted initially steered clear of this fic because I wasn’t comforted with a soulmate tartali fic pre-Osial but this fic is actually post-Ostial *facepalm* The writing is phenomenal and Aevas does some beautiful worldbuilding that you typically don’t see in Genshin Impact fics. I love the dynamic between Childe and Zhongli here and the angst is real. The author writes the two as very human characters who makes mistakes, etc. and notably Zhongli struggles with the concept of Childe as his soulmate (who understandably is upset by the rejection when he realizes). They get better though. Also very plotty. A+ writing.

it's a hard rock life for us by reptilianraven

“Ah, no need to worry about that,” Azhdaha waves a dismissive hand. “There is no real Kun Jun. He’s dead.”

A leaf blows past and plaps onto Aether’s face.

“You killed him???” Paimon screeches.

“No,” Azhdaha scrunches his eyebrows. “He was dead when I found him.”

“And you just decided to wear his corpse?” Aether says, leaf still on his face.

He shrugs. “It was free real estate.”

“Azhdaha...” Morax says, sounding vaguely pained.

Or the one where Historia Antiqua Chapter II: No Mere Stone goes a little bit different and Azhdaha gets more time.

He ultimately uses that time to bully Morax into confronting his immortal neuroses, to make Aether and Paimon suffer, and to figure out how to get that ginger boy Morax has his eye on to make a move already.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe, Past Azhdaha/Zhongli

Notes: Very lighthearted, humor-filled fic. Love how Azhdaha is so flippant. Interactions with Zhongli and Childe are pure gold.

if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes by moonlight_mist

Childe has a Weapon problem- specifically, that he can't keep one.

He's too reckless, too wild, and too keen on pushing his Weapon partners past their limits. He's just about ready to give up when he meets Zhongli, a Weapon who just might be the solution- so long as Childe can manage to keep his dick in his pants.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This is a Soul Eater AU with some college/university AU vibes (?) but you don’t really need to know much about the anime. It’s a cute AU and I love the premise. Light angst but otherwise, it’s a pretty semi-plotty fic. Easter egg Kaeya and Diluc though.

To Kill A God by IlluminanceinTales

In Snezhnaya, they call them sansis—lost souls that have no guidance but themselves. It’s an apt description, given that most of the time, wannabe-Archons have to go through dozens of tests with nothing as their reference, relying solely on their wit and strength and hoping it would be enough. At least, until they survive the end of the whole game—and they might not have to undergo a painful reincarnation which feels like a hundred bones being stitched together again.

On his seventh game, Childe Tartaglia reincarnates this time in the body of a young man.

Damn, he thinks, looking down at his thin body, his slightly calloused fingers. This won’t be good when facing the other Hydro Decisions.

In a world where an Archon's position is not chosen but fought for in games, Childe Tartaglia is a Hydro Decision who's poised to become the next Hydro Archon. Of course, that's only if he survives his seventh reincarnation. All would be so much easier if it weren't for a certain Geo Archon interfering with every possible chance he gets.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Think Hunger Games meet Political Intrigue meet Genshin Impact. Love the premise and world building that’s done. Features overprotective Zhongli and lots of Childe whump. Has one or two supplementary OCs that aren’t really important outside of plot device reasons. Warning for character death tho lmao.

Three's a Family by IlluminanceinTales

Childe finds a kid that looks just like him.

Of course Zhongli wants to keep him.

Or: How a harbinger and an archon accidentally become fathers. The kid is their wingman

Ships: Childe/Zhongli (?)

Notes: Your everyday cute AF kid fic. Fluffy as hell and super cute. Zhongli and Childe get domestic pretty quickly. Xiao gets dubbed a grandfather and begrudgingly plays along. Super wholesome.

in pitch dark i go walking in your landscape by snowbrigade

He glanced down at him, at the silvery scars peeking out from beneath his robe, and at his eyes, properly now. They were the bright blue of high quality noctilucous jade, but he could see it, an underlying darkness.

Zhongli wondered what his eyes betrayed about himself. --

Rex Lapis is dead. Zhongli, formerly known as triad leader Rex Lapis, is a detective investigating his own "death." Childe, also known as Tartaglia of the Fatui mafia, is undercover as an escort looking to kill Rex Lapis- until someone beats him to it, and he wants to know who. Goals intersecting, they form a partnership of ulterior motives.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: There’s like one scene that skews NSFW but otherwise surprisingly not explicit. Really fun AU. Like how the author addresses Childe’s reaction to being stuck with the undercover escort stuff and how the dynamic between the two develops. Pretty plotty so far.

Phantom Lines by iskendaris

“It’s a measure of one’s self, Mr Zhongli.” Childe says. “Maybe you don’t understand it since you work as a consultant, but as an ambassador from the Tsaritsa, as one who fights in her name— this is how I learn to know the measure of myself.” “I understand,” Zhongli says thoughtfully. “It is a warrior’s way, to test one’s strength against the incomparable. To find where one falls short. To find where one has risen to the challenge.”

In which Childe has insomnia, vandalizes public property and runs into a mysterious funeral consultant on his first night in Liyue.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: THE FEELS. I can only describe this as the fic where Zhongli pays Best Boyfriend Ever only to FUCK UP big time (via Gnosis deception). Poor, poor Childe. Look, he gave the boy feelings and then broke him. You can really feel Childe fall in love in this love. He also does mental swooning a lot lmao.

adventitious by Anonymous

It's said the Ley Lines remember all things that happen in this world, from the surface down to the deepest depths... But in the hidden corners where the Gods' gaze does not fall, there are those who dream of dreaming.

There's a dormant bud where Kaeya's eye once was. One day, it will bloom. (Never forget: memory is untrustworthy.)

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: I don’t even know where to start. This is very headcanony and lore-focused. Very much concentrated on Khaenri'ah. The implications of this story is grotesque to say the least (according to this fic, Visions are the literal eyes of the people of Khaenri'ah). Warnings for eye and body horror.

Without Those Dark Memories by StrangeDiamond

Diluc awakens in Stormterror’s Lair with no memories of the past five years. Kaeya is on the trail of a rogue alchemist, with a habit of testing his chemicals on unwilling human subjects. Now, in addition to capturing the criminal, Kaeya has to shake him down for an antidote . . . and deal with an amnesiac Diluc who acts exactly like he did before their brotherhood fell apart. (Standalone Fic.)

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: This is sort of a classic amnesia fic. I particularly really liked the way that Kaeya was written in this. I feel like the author did a really good job nailing his character and they have a way of capturing the subtle things.

Through the warmth, through the cold by strikedawn

“It’s you!” Paimon shouted with a twirl in mid-air.

“…Excuse me?"

They were drunk. Were they drunk? Was he drunk? Because Kaeya had the feeling his guests had been talking to him for a while now, but none of their words had made any sense whatsoever.

That was, until Venti stepped firmly in front of Kaeya’s desk and set his hands on the top, the better to lean over towards Kaeya and say: “For the end of the Windblume festival, Sir Kaeya Alberich, we’re going to auction a date with you.”

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: Shortword, Kaeya gets auctioned off. Diluc makes impulsive (but good) decisions and scores himself a Date but displays an inability to do Date Planning. Venti deserves a pat on the back. Very sweet.

Hide and Seek by Kiri_Kaitou_Clover

Childe did not expect regaining his memories would bring him such frustration.

He makes the best of the situation by messing with one amber eyed consultant in anyway he can.

A reincarnated storm god wades through life in Liyue, all while screaming about one dragon god's incompetency at being human.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Features Childe as Osial’s very exasperated reincarnation, who gets the joy of discovering that his rival/enemy Morax is not only an idiot but also broke AF. He still falls in love anyway. Contains this golden line:

"Did... did that complete blockhead really use my money in order to get me a gift that basically says that he is proposing to me?!"

(Osial was screaming. When had the other god become like this?! Had he always been like this?!)

Getting that Bread by tzitzimeme

Concubine AU where Zhongli is Emperor, Xiao is an assassin sent to kill him while disguised as a woman in his imperial harem, and the only reason he doesn't actually do it is because he pities Zhongli for being so catastrophically stupid (also Xiao falls in love).

Ships: Zhongli/Xiao

Notes: Like Xiao says, Zhongli is an idiot. Fluff and humor filled. Xiao spends a good 95% of this exasperated by Zhongli’s bullshit.

prayers for a boy by Recluse

The only way to reconciliation is fierce combat!

Hm... Come to think of it, there will be a lot of interesting news to be heard the next time we gather for drinks. Filling in the blanks.

Ships: N/A

Notes: I...don’t really know where to begin with this? It’s exactly what the summary implies...but more? I was tempted to describe this as the fic where Zhongli puts his foot in his mouth but...that’s not exactly write? I feel like this was more of a character study. It explores the aftermath of the Osial Incident and how Zhongli and Childe reconnect. Platonically...though I guess it can be read romantically.

one kind of longing, two places of sorrow by lady_peony

Zhongli's hands rest behind his back, both gloved hands clasping one another. His fingers tighten around one another for the merest moment, before he relaxes his grip.

"There is a tradition in Liyue," Zhongli says, his back still to Childe standing behind him, "of inviting out a companion to a last meal before a farewell."

A pause.

"A tradition?" Childe echoes.

"Yes."

"With a companion?"

"Yes."

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: The fic where neither of the two communicate about jackshit but go on a quiet, sad not-date before Childe leaves for Snezhnaya. Childe pulls (? on accident or on purpose, I can not tell) the equivalent of leaving the jacket in the car post-date to get date to call for the second date. Also, the author has a gift for like...writing angst...without writing angst? Like the whole fic is like brimming with everything that the characters aren’t saying but the thoughts aren’t necessarily written out BUT YOU KNOW THOSE DUMBFUCKS ARE JUST LIKE. BRIMMING WITH FEELS?

The People of Liyue by queer_occurrences

But Zhongli whispers, his low voice rooted in the back of Childe’s mind. “Changsun, the merchant, who is never too Mora-enthralled to turn away a needy child. There’s Tiantian—she will allow anyone to join the Adventurer’s Guild—she knows what it is to be desperate.”

Childe ducks away from them and hurries out over the bridge. It’s a warm, sunny day, the kind he would have complained about, whining about his delicate Snezhnayan skin. “It’ll burn, or worse, freckle. Would you still like me if I was freckled?”

Then Zhongli would say, “The people of Liyue will remember your sacrifice.” And he would wrinkle his nose.

Or: after it all goes down, Childe takes a walk.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: The author has a way with perfectly balancing angst with humor in a way that makes you cackle. There’s a lot of feels in this one. Zhongli tries communicating--Childe runs away a lot. There’s a lot of love for Liyue in this one.

cold blooded, warm blooded, hearts all the same by reptilianraven

Teyvat Petting Zoo @tyvtpettingzoo

Well would you look at that! Zhongli, our resident spinytail iguana, has gotten quite cozy with Childe, our new (and very feisty) ginger ferret! Aren’t they adorable all cuddled together like this? 😍😍😍

[Attached image shows a brown spinytail iguana curled up against a ginger ferret. The iguana’s head is nuzzled under the snout of the ferret.]

At the Teyvat Petting Zoo, Zhongli and Childe fall in love.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: ...I promise I’m not weird. This is just super cute. Cross-species love affair? Childe the ferret is very besotted. The internet is confused and the zoo keepers are just done.

a geo archon's guide to the modern era by Erina

“Morax,” Xiao says after Zhongli finishes his retelling of the incident. “He thinks you’re a weirdo.”

“No, don’t say that,” Barbatos snickers. “You’ll give him hope that this is salvageable.” He lowers his voice. “Morax, he thinks you’re a boomer.”

(In which Zhongli hibernates for centuries and wakes up in the modern world)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This took me, I shit you not, FIVE SEPARATE ATTEMPTS to read. Not because it was bad but BECAUSE THE SECOND HAND EMBARRASSMENT WAS REAL. Like, omg, just reading about Zhongli’s introduction to modernity made me want to dig a hole and die. Super funny though. Do not read in public or you will look like a lunatic. Has a...parallel (?) fic in the same series called buy two get one archon free where Zhongli gets reversed isekai’d into an anime convention.

time flies like an arrow by Erina

He’s tired, tired of the unbreakable loop of watching his loved ones pass on, tired of getting attached only for the connection to be violently ripped away from him. He wonders if the real victors during the Archon War were those who perished, who died long before their godhood turned into a curse that chained them to the land that they were fighting for.

But that is not a problem for Childe to worry about. That is Zhongli’s burden to bear, delivered to him in a pretty package years ago in the form of a gnosis.

His very first contract.

(Zhongli and Childe, across many lifetimes)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This is a quiet fic. It’s this kind of slice-of-life fic colored by this overpowering sense of love and loss as Zhongli remains immortal and Childe dies and lives and dies and lives for hundreds of lifetimes, but always finds his way back to his geo archon. It’s so lovely but also unbearably sad.

Tartaglia’s Favorite Professor by GreyLiliy

The famed hitman Tartaglia of the Fatui Syndicate spends his days as the charming college student Childe. The two lives remain as separate as possible in order to maintain a flawless cover to keep the authorities off his back and to better serve the Tsaritsa.

However, new intel about a rival syndicate intersects his two lives in a way he could never have predicted.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Mafia AU meet College AU. Childe is somehow both a horny AF college student and murderous hitman. Zhongli gives off major DILF vibes. GreyLily somehow makes this work while also avoiding cringe. Highly recommended!

like a handprint on my heart by fallingintodivinity

“Strictly off-the-record,” Jean says, with a small smile, “I’m really happy to see you and Captain Kaeya getting along again, Master Diluc.”

“We’re not – we’re not getting along,” Diluc tells her, indignant. “We’re working together. Unwillingly, I might add.”

“Yes – oh, yes, of course.”

Diluc stares at Jean suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?”

Jean clears her throat primly. “I would never.”

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: Super, super cute! Sort of reads like a first date fic except genshin impact style? Writing style is very refreshing!

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #fanfic rec #rec list #zhongli/childe #childe/zhongli #tartali #chili #diluc./kaeya #luckae #fanfiction #took a while but i have been steadily reading my way through the fandom #still not all my recs #but you can check my ao3 for what i'm reading lmao

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danniburgh · 3 years

Text

Rushingly Bittersweet (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 17

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +4.4k

Chapter warnings: mentions of captivity, oral sex (m receiving) more fucking feels i know, soft javi deserves a warning, the apparition of Señor Berna lmao

A/N: This chapter is set in season three, episode eight. // again, some plotshit, a lil more action, flor being a snarky beech lmao... oh guys, im so happy were here, im sorry for the angst

ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

←previous // next→

gif: @josepedropascal

You breathed in and out a few times before walking to his office, trying to eat back your tears and put on a smiling face as he was staring at you. He tilted his head when you entered the office and you gulped and buried your feelings inside you again, not wanting to dive into them just yet.

“How’d it go?” you asked Javier, sitting in front of him across his desk. You saw his brow furrow at the question and his reaction made you bite your lip, he pushed his cigarette on the small ashtray to turn it off before answering.

“She’s in the jungle,” he muttered at you and your heart dropped a few feet below the floor, “the cartel basically handed her to the fucking FARC,”

“What the fuck!?” your voice raised and your brain started spiraling down further.

The woman that you had heard trying to convince her husband to drop everything he had been doing for the cartel and practically begged him to not leave her alone was in the worst possible place you could imagine for someone like her.

Javier looked at you, and once again he desired he had your sharp ability to read people, just to try to know without asking what you were thinking. The truth was that you were relating to her in more than one way. She reminded you of yourself at some point before all the shit you had seen and done ultimately turned you into another person and you didn’t like it. You wanted her to get away unscratched because in your eyes she didn’t deserve it. You knew she didn’t. Even if she knew what she was doing when she got married, even if she knew what she was getting herself into.

Christina Jurado reminded you of yourself and you didn’t like it because it made the whole thing way too personal. And for you, it wasn’t worth it. And if you looked at it from the outside. It was even worse.

“What did Berna say?” you asked again, trying to brush off all the negative feelings that were bubbling in your chest.

“That he knows how to get her back,” his voice was low and his face quirked in frustration, you let your hand reach his over the cluttered desk and he took it “he’s gonna take me there,”

“Javi,” you let out in a whisper, he knew what you were about to say and he shook his head, “please,”

“You’re not going, baby,” you tightened the grip on his hand and pleaded with your eyes, he knew you, he knew you could help, he knew you would be fantastic at it, but he wasn’t about taking the woman he… you to a place like that, it wasn’t a matter of ability or capacity. It was a matter of him wanting you to be safe. He just couldn’t risk you.

Taking the risk was worthy for him, in some way he blamed himself for Christina’s capture, he did because he was the one that had contacted in the first place, he had flirted with her and convinced her to tell her husband to cooperate with the agency and he blamed himself because he had exposed her in a city that wasn’t kind to anybody in a country she didn’t know in a position she hadn’t anything to gain from.

So for him, it was an easy call.

But for you? he couldn’t risk you. You who were doing everything he asked you to, you, who helped, you, who worried and cared, you who he knew would put her own life on the line if that’s what it would take to bring a woman home. It was a given no.

“How much is gonna cost us?” your voice was still low and Javier let his mouth curve into a tight-lipped, sad, resigned smile, you were about the only person who could ask something like that in plural and as much as he dreaded giving you the answer, he found it endearing. You, who helped. You, who worried and cared. You, selfless and giving.

“He wants a heads up,” Javier explained, moving his gaze to your entangled hands, “to know when we start looking for him,” his thumb started stroking your skin slowly.

“Mhm,” you hummed.

Javier lost himself in the moment, just letting the silence drop and the implication of the conversation linger between you both while you held hands. His touch was soft on your skin despite the roughness of his, his hand wrapped yours almost entirely and the way his thumb brushed softly against the back of your hand made you remember the way his hands felt on your skin earlier as he made love to you.

He really didn’t deserve what you were doing to him. He was clueless to how much of a monster you were.

The thought of just word vomit everything to him and then beg for his forgiveness crossed your mind not once but twice. But you couldn’t just do it, you needed more, more for him to know why you were doing it and how you were trying to fix it, more for him to understand your motives so he could at least not hate you, more for you to know it was safe for him to know. So you didn’t. Instead, you gave into another thought of yours that resurfaced as you looked at him again; all tensed up and frustrated.

“C’mon,” you stood up from the chair and tugged at his hand, Javier looked at you confused and you tugged again to make him stand up and walk around his desk as you guided him to the loveseat in his office.

Your hand left his, and you cupped his face softly, he instantly knew what you wanted and leaned to let you trap his lips in yours, knowing you had all the freedom to do it as you were the only two people in the office at such late hours.

The kiss was soft and slow, his hands settled on your waist and his tongue slid through your lower lip and you opened up to him, letting him explore once more your mouth as he pleased, your hands glided from the sides of his face to his chest and you pushed him softly, breaking the kiss and forcing him to sit down.

Saying nothing else, you kneeled in front of him and his eyes shot up.

“What are you doing?” he muttered in both surprise and precaution.

“I’m gonna pray,” you teased, making him roll his eyes, you put your hands on his thighs “I’m gonna suck you off, Javi,” you said as low as you could and saw him take a shivering breath “you’re really stressed and I think you deserve it,”

Javier was a determined, resolute man; in the short time you’d known him he never was the one without something to say, he always had to give the last word. But there, with you, kneeling in front of him, with your hands softly roaming through his thighs, he was at a loss for words.

“Okay,” he just mumbled, you nodded once and your hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it slowly “I don’t know what I did to have you like this in here of all places, but I might do it again,” he rambled under his breath when you unbuttoned his dress pants, his cock already semi hard, you smiled at him.

“I told you, I think you deserve it,” his hand found your cheek as you slid down the zipper and his eyes drank you in entirely. You loved him, deeply, and you wanted to show him how much, at least in the only way you could allow yourself to “tell me what you’re thinking,” you whispered as your hands slowly opened the fly.

“I’m thinking…” he saw you play with the waistband of his briefs and his mouth dried, his cock now fully awake and attentive “that this is something I’ve thought for quite a while, actually,” you smiled and pulled the elastic down, freeing his erection.

“Really?” your voice was as low and deep as you knew his was getting, your mouth watered at the sight of his hard length and the bead of precum that adorned the head already looked really enticing.

“Uh, yeah,” his breath hitched when you grabbed his shaft and your thumb spread the precum around his expecting head.

“And what did you think about?” you teased as you licked your lips and leaned down to lick the tip, savouring the tangy, salty taste of him, he bucked his lips slightly and you moved your wrist up and down, twisting in the middle.

“I imagined you coming into my office in–ah–that little dress suit of yours,” he blurted, closing his eyes as you licked the underside of his cock, your feet were numbing so you shifted around to help the feeling, “remember? the o–one you were wearing whe–when you arrived?” you nodded on his cock, making him moan softly.

“Yes, the way you looked at me that time still burns,” you replied and took the tip around your lips, letting the saliva inside warm him up, your hand still working his shaft as your spit slipped out of your mouth and slowly dripped through his soft skin.

“You noticed?” he asked, surprised, looking at you, you smiled with him inside your mouth and he bucked his hips again as you pulled him out softly.

“I still don’t know if you wanted to kill me or fuck me,” you mumbled, leaning again to curl your tongue on his leaking head, he left out a hitched chuckle.

“Shit, I don’t either,” he closed his eyes again and his head fell backwards, hitting the backrest as you took him inside your mouth again, pushing your head as far as you could, “then I would slide that skirt up just enough to bend you over my desk an–and take you until we both for–forgot our names,” he rambled and the image made you aware of how wet you were getting, you pulled him out again.

“I would really like that,” you said, gulping, your hand still working on his now spit-covered shaft.

“Or maybe I–I would sit on my desk and make you s–sit on me while I fin–finished work,” one of his hands found your hair and pushed your head softly towards him.

“God, Javi, didn’t know you could be so vocal,” you followed his guide and took him back inside, your hand left his length and you left him push your head, swallowing him almost whole.

“F–fuck, baby,” your eyes started to sting as he stretched open your mouth, your hands found the fabric of his open pants and you fisted it as he found his way into your throat “o–oh shit,” his other hand found yours and gripped it as you close your eyes and breathed through your nose. Some of his precum was leaking into you and the taste made you even wetter. Then, as he moved your head slowly up and down and your eyes filled with tears, everything became too much.

You gagged around him but didn’t pull away; he was making sure to not lose all control as he enjoyed the warmth of your mouth around him, unaware of the tears that started to drip down your cheeks.

“So–so good, my baby, so good,” he rambled as he moved you and your hand tightened the grip on his, you opened your eyes and through your tears you saw him; relaxed beyond words, his face quirked in pleasure, his chest panting up and down as he used you to reach his high “perfecta–m’ baby–s’ good”, he muttered senselessly and your chest turned at the sight and his words, he was such a good man, he was a great fucking man, and you were so fucking sorry.

He had called you perfect and you knew you were the total and complete opposite of that. How could you have done that to a person that thought so highly of you? Even when he thought so lowly of himself.

In that moment, with him in your mouth, whispering soft nothings to the air and you between his legs, both of you as vulnerable as you could be in that position, in that place where everything had started out of nowhere, you realized how much you regretted everything. Your chest sank and you sobbed, it disguised itself as a gag and more tears escaped your eyes, he didn’t deserve it.

You thought of yourself as something close to a monster, no different from those you had sworn to chase. You had become what you wanted to kill; cruel, selfish, deceitful, and the realization that the only thing that would come out of all that was deep sadness and desolation bathed you like a bucket of freezing ice water. And he didn’t deserve any of it.

Because Javier was such a good man. And you weren't good at all. And that made you decide yours and his fate, right there in his office in the middle of the night and then, as he panted above you, fisted your hair and came inside your throat. You were gonna tell him everything. It wasn’t anymore a question of if you were going to do it. It was a given. Now the question was when.

Javier opened his hooded eyes as you swallowed his orgasm and brushed your tears away, he smiled at you hazily and you smiled back.

“Thank you,”

The next morning you walked out of your apartment in comfortable silence.

The night before, you had driven you both to your place. Javier had noticed almost immediately after the deep-throat you had given him that something inside you was off, but he didn’t ask you, instead, when you entered your apartment, he helped you out of your clothes and laid next to you. You knew he wasn’t much of a cuddler, but he just knew you needed it, so he held you tightly inside around arms almost the entire night, determined to provide you some comfort as you had done the same for him before.

You reached your building’s parking lot and he turned his head to both sides to make sure you were alone.

“You okay?” he asked, stepping closer to you and reaching for your waist, your hands settled around his neck and you nodded.

“Are you gonna be gone all day?” your voice was thin and he noticed the worried tone of it, he was about to meet with Berna, as he had planned, to get Christina back, and you dreaded the whole plan, he had to get inside the thick colombian jungle along dangerous people and you had to stay behind, just waiting for something to happen. One of his hands moved to cup your face and he brushed his thumb on your cheek.

“Probably,” Javier replied, leaning in to brush his lips against you.

“Please, be careful,” you pleaded in a whisper, he kissed you softly, you moved your hands to his nape and brought him closer to you. You shut your eyes tightly as he parted his lips to let you inside his mouth and gave him all your wordless love, you stopped the kiss and opened your eyes, Javier’s chest sunk when he saw your eyes glisten with unshed tears “don’t come back without her,” you whispered “but please come back,”

Javier nodded once and kissed you again, trying again to give you some comfort in the only way he knew how.

He broke the kiss reluctantly and pulled away from your body so you could get into your car and drive to work. As you turned on the car’s ignition you gave him a last look and he gave you a nod, knowing exactly what your eyes were telling but your mouth couldn’t say. And you breathed in to fill your lungs and to begin your day of pretending you weren’t as worried as you really were while the man you just acknowledged to yourself you loved, spent his day on a rescue mission that could go wrong in a thousand different ways.

The day in office went by ridiculously slowly, the minutes felt like days and the hours felt like weeks and you couldn’t get to focus on one single thing, so you stood up from your desk and decided it was then time to start trying to gather as much information as you could to show Javier when you told him the truth. You knew with him you needed something close to a defense, even though you weren’t exactly sure how he was going to react.

The whole thing was a mess, but no one could blame you for trying at least to get him to understand you.

You opened the bottom drawer of your desk, the one that double functioned as both a filing cabinet and a safe place to hide stuff you didn’t want anyone to find, and pulled out two manila folders you had shoved in there the first time you went to Stechner’s office and learned he was nothing but a venomous, selfish snake.

With a quick pace you walked towards the records room and closed the door behind you, you stepped to the old copy machine that was put in there when it was replaced by the newer, techier machine that now had its place in the middle of the office. You started shuffling the papers that you had shoved into the folders to try to organize them and began photocopying them, making sure the ones deemed more important went into the machine first.

You didn’t hear the door opening behind you, your mind wandering between the pages you had in your hands and the ones printing, trying to order them.

“Martín,” a soft voice called out behind you, and startled you. Your hands made quick work of turning the pages upside down and shoving the rest into the folders as you turned around.

“Hey,” you tried to relax your body when you saw the brunette agent hesitantly walking closer to you, your breath calmed “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,” you said apologetically and she gave you half a smile.

“Call me Charles,” her voice hardened on its own and you nodded.

“So…” you gave her an expectant look, she had walked in because of you, it was obvious. She moved her hands and put her into her pockets, you tilted your head, reading her doubt and anxiety.

“Are you fucking him?” she muttered, deepening her gaze into yours. You frowned.

“What?”

“Peña, are you fucking him?” her voice hardened as she stood up straight. Your mouth fell open at her question. She was a contradiction in herself. You knew how she had been looking at you and Javier, and, as Feistl did, it wasn’t a surprise other people would see, but she was confronting you about it, as if you or Javier owed her something. An explanation, a justification of something she had formed inside her head.

You, in your railed state of mind, as you prayed to a god you didn’t believe in that she wouldn’t dare to look over your shoulder at the pages you were trying to keep away from her eyes, admired her audacity, at the same time this audacity exasperated you.

“You kiddin’, right?” you asked her, trying to lighten your voice, she just raised an eyebrow at you and huffed.

“You come and go in and out of the office with him all the time!” she rambled as if it was all you needed to actually answer her question “you think I haven’t noticed how you look at him? or how he looks at you?” when she said the last word, her face quirk in something close to disgust and you bit your lower lip, preventing a chuckle to come out of your mouth.

“Oh god, you’re really asking,” you mouthed, she finally dropped her gaze to your feet. “why?” the question visibly took her by surprise, her arms moved and she crossed them on her chest. Of course she did.

“I made the first question,” she tried to regain the small amount of confidence she had entered the room with while you took control of the entire situation. You sighed loudly, for your body to relax and for her to know you were already tired of whatever that was.

“And I don’t have to answer it,” you shrugged, “why are you so eager to know, agent Charles?” you questioned, softening your voice. She took her time not saying a word, you really wanted to know what was going inside her head, and the temptation of just focusing on her silence and her body language was growing within you by the second.

But you had things to do and issues to worry about, so when she sighed you mimicked her and turned around to gather all the pages and simply walk out.

“My sexual life is none of your business, agent Charles,” you muttered, stepping away from the copy machine “and if you’re asking because you wanna know if agent Peña is available, well then go ask him whenever he comes back,” she snapped her head to look at you at the mention of Javier, and you had to chew on the inside of your cheek to keep from smirking “maybe he’ll say yes, what do I know?” you said under your breath when you opened the door and walked out, leaving her standing in the middle of the room while your brain returned to its previous mode of planning and thinking a way to stay afloat.

You checked your wristwatch as you sat back on your desk, your mind traveling hundreds of miles away, wondering if Javier was okay.

Javier had been in one camp like that just weeks before and had already forgotten how fucking hot everything was in there.

The heat was scorching and wet, he swiped the back of his hand on his forehead again and dried it on the fabric of the cargo pants he was wearing, hoping for one single current of air that could relieve him from the suffocating feeling in his chest caused both by the heat and the fact that he really didn’t want to be there.

Javier was putting on a bulletproof vest that didn’t quite fit him, with the eyes of Berna glued to him and his actions, watching him get ready and checking once again the barrel of his gun. Javier was loathing the man’s stare.

“Y, ¿al fin supiste algo de Judy?” (You ever heard anything from Judy?) Berna asked, Javier saw him play with a dagger while his heavy stare rested on him.

“No desde que la vendiste,” (Not since you sold her out) he muttered, Berna chuckled humorlessly.

“Quién iba a pensar, Javier, ahora los dos somos jefes,” (Who would’ve thought, Javier, now both of us, bosses) Javier hid the roll of his eyes as the man compared taking advantage of Escobar’s death to climb a stepless ladder inside the cartel with being practically forcefully promoted “y, ¿si te dieron un apartamento bueno ahí en Bogotá?” (and did they give you a nice place in Bogotá?) he asked him, Javier brushed his bottom lip with his thumb as he looked back at Berna.

“‘Ta bueno,” (It’s good) Javier replied, not giving too much of a crap about the reason for his question. Not wanting to think anything of it… Not really wanting to tell him he was living in the same one.

“Deberías conocer mi casa,” (you should see my house) Berna said with a chuckle “yo cago cada día de la semana en un baño diferente, a mi esposa eso le encanta.” (I can take a shit in a different bathroom every day of the week, my wife loves it) Javier huffed and narrowed his eyes.

“¿Su esposa?” (your wife?)

“Yo soy un hombre de familia,” (I’m a family man) he shrugged, Javier wanted to laugh at the statement but he didn’t, knowing he wasn’t really in the position to “y vos ¿qué? ¿seguís con la misma novia? la maleta,” (and you what? you still with the same girlfriend, the suitcase?)

Javier didn’t answer the last question. After it his mind immediately went to one single thing, ignoring whatever else Berna had said to him. Javier walked out of the small hut he got ready in and stepped on the soft, humid, jungle floor, swiped off the sweat of his forehead again and thought of you. It shook him. He was in the middle of a rescue mission for a really important piece of the case he was building to dismantle a whole cartel and when an old ally, another narco, asked him about his love life… his mind took him to you.

It was funny for him, somewhat, that his mind pictured you when someone mentioned the words novia, or esposa, because for a long time he actually thought he would never have something, someone that could be the parallel to that in his life.

And the realization that his brain correlated the idea of you with the idea of… that, for the first time in his life, didn’t scare the shit out of him.

It was late, you were tired of checking the clock and your watch and not seeing the handles moving forward. You hated feeling like time was still, and you hated not knowing what the hell was going on.

You had spent some hours busy with copying and collecting some more documents and then tried to write some reports, but you were extremely anxious and so desperate because no one knew what was going on and you were dreading the outcome of all of that.

Stoddard was watching you pace between the desks, handing you cigarettes while you tried to find relaxation by chain smoking. Feistl and was sitting on his desk typing his nerves away when a phone rang. Feistl’s phone.

You turned to watch him answer it and say one word, turning to look back at you, he listened for two seconds and then he hung up.

“He has her.” he said.

You felt your soul come back to your body and for the first time since the last kiss you gave him in the parking lot of your building, forcing yourself to separate from him, you could fill your lungs with fresh air that smelled like relief.

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

Text

the wolf should’ve been afraid of me.

Titans 3.04

just under the wire! ... i hope.

like with the previous review, i’m typing this up as i see the episode. here we go!

spoilers ahead.

1. ... well. that was an interesting cold open.

1.25. i don’t know whether to admire this show’s restraint when it comes to gotham and its excesses, particularly arkham asylum. it’d be easy to go hammer and tongs, like suicide squad (2016) did, or any number of bat media did, at a tropey, colourful~~insanity~~ that can be quite damaging, casting mental illness in strangeness and criminality. it definitely shows gotham as... separate from the rest of the country, its own ecosystem of heroes and villains, a sort of rogue state.

but that ecosystem is still human, with its heroes needing to clip parts of themselves away just to survive, growing old and needing to be recycled, its villains languishing in the same kinds of systems that fail everybody else who needs to be helped. it’s a quieter, tenser sort of wrongness: not strange enough that you can dissociate, but not close enough that you can completely empathise. gotham is its own creature.

1.5. i know that the reasoning behind this is more doylist than anything, but i’m so glad that joker was killed off with little fanfare right at the start of the season. he is the one man in the batverse that’s transcended its confines as this sort of ethereal boogeyman/eternal edgelord and to justify his presence in the series would mean giving him this tired, overblown importance and too much of a stab at colourful, tropey “madness” in this otherwise-subdued series. i wish all batmedia would follow suit and get rid of this fucker.

1.75. so jason is bucking scarecrow’s control! or reminding him of who exactly holds all the cards right now. circling back to what i talked about in the last review, it’s remarkable just how little time it’s been since jason’s “death” and he’s already got ‘minions’ and elaborately set up plans to track, break and kill the titans. just how long has he been planning this? when did he first look at WE weapons prototypes and think that’s something i can use to blow somebody up? and the most unsettling question: did he plan his own death at the hands of the joker just so that he could break batman?

at this point it’s obvious that the scarecrow at least started jason down this path, but it’s frightening just how far he’s travelled already.

1.8. aaagh, less than one minute in! i’ll shut up.

2. conner washing his hands at the sink reminds me that he was directly in the line of explosion when hank got blown up and he’s probably got atomised hank-bits all over his skin that he’s desperately trying to wash off.

... you’re welcome.

2.25. conner, don’t you speak to gar fucking logan like that, sir, no!

2.3. if anything it’s the lex part of him that gave him the knowhow to recognise the weapon and build a de-activator for it.

anyway, for that ‘half-breed’ and ‘talking tiger’ comment?

(i wish, tho, that we actually see conner more interested in the superman part of his legacy, like maybe listening to stories from gar, or even better, dick, so we get a better idea of the pressure he’s feeling to live up to that part of him and not the part that’s lex.)

((i talked about conner’s stages of moral development in his introductory episode last season, but i wonder if the next stage of his self-actualisation would be to further integrate the parts of himself and realise that they are only parts and he, conner, is an entirely different person unto himself that can make decisions on how to use what he has and what he knows. his superman abilities can be used to destroy. his lex knowledge can be used to save.))

3. oh dawn :((

3.25. is this the last we see of dawn and hank? i mean, we know donna is coming back; would it be a stretch to think they’ll try to have a go at resurrecting hank as well?

3.5. “deathstroke didn’t make us into killers.” good, because deathstroke didn’t make jason a killer either. there’s a missing step there you need to be looking for, dick.

3.75. dick did try to break the cycle, step away from gotham, run from the possibility that he could turn into batman. it didn’t help; he couldn’t fully withdraw from his vigilante persona the same time he loathed it, and batman literally haunted him both asleep and awake. but maybe gotham doesn’t have to turn anybody into anything. maybe gotham has nothing to do with it at all. it’s about taking responsibility, realising some sacrifices are pure bullshit, and building an actual family instead of merely a team.

anyway: hugs!

(oh, also? mr “i hate flying”? i mean, there’s perfectly valid reasons to hate flying that’s not related to childhood trauma, but then again, this guy was literally a ‘flying grayson’ once. also also, remember that he also gets sea-sick. must’ve a lot of fun stories to tell.)

4. ooh that gar/kory confrontation was brief but cool!

listen, i have never seen a psychiatrist with that extravagant an office and SIR I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW HOW--

4.5. kory’s so unused to reaching out for help and it’s breaking my heart that HPG likely is some kind of impostor that’s maybe causing her symptoms in the first place.

kory and dick have mostly been apart this season but it’s remarkable how their journeys have paralleled each other; kory processes her grief, isolation and existential dread into a determination to take care of this new family she has, no matter what it takes; dick does much the same, forging ahead with plans and solutions until he has no fuel left in him and spirals into a massive breakdown.

4.25. listen titans this really is a TERRIBLE continuity error. we aren’t goldfish; we can clearly remember that two minutes ago it was gar’s upper arm that was burned, not his forearm. COME ON.

“sensory deprivation tank” *SNORT*

anyway, gar is the BEST

4.5. i wonder where these visions of experimentation took place. was it on tamaran, or on earth, after she came to hunt down rachel/trigon and before she lost all her memories? is HPG a part of the scientist group that experimented on her? ... god, i hope not. i mean, i think he is, but it would be cool to have some positive therapist representation in media.

5. you’d think the van transporting a dangerous supervillain that only batman could catch would be more secure but... i’m also not entirely surprised.

5.15. i love dick gives ZERO shits about hiding himself or even ensuring scarecrow is adequately contained. just turns away after kidnapping him in BROAD DAYLIGHT and says ‘let’s go’. I LOVE THIS DUMBASS

6. lmao gar is having a really really shitty day SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN A BREAK or just a goddamn story arc of his own

6.5. i’m really confused about the timeline here. so... sometime ago, kory came down to earth to hunt down trigon, yeah? at some further point down the line she and her sister were kidnapped and experimented on. THEN she somehow escapes but... loses her memory? a few months pass and then we see blackfire alive and well and free; she kills faddei, can impersonate other people, and is clearly seeking out kory. but now she’s still in the experiment facility...? what’s going on?

i’m not entirely surprised about the facility being mostly deserted. either the biggest investors in this project gave up on it and it was left to the most fanatic to carry on, or they were deliberately trying to lure kory and get her to free blackfire--expand the environs of the experiment, so to speak.

7. hopefully barbara is going to get something to do other than listen to various men give her Attitude

8. how do you terrorise a terrorist? well:

i love when dick is a scary-competent motherfucker.

8.25. ooooh, the attack on crane at arkham a ploy to get crane to blackgate? nice one dick, i didn’t even think of that. but why though? to protect crane from the titans? to intercept the van to blackgate and “rescue” him? seems likely--red hood was there, except dick got to crane quicker.

9. still reeeallly unclear about the komand’r situation. was komand’r captured after s2? is this all A TRAP?? if so, why are you stepping into the only thing that can contain you, kory????

9.25. so... definite parallels between dick/jason and kory/kom here. i’m just. i’m still. really confused. i’ll shut up now.

10. this may be my favourite dick look yet:

woodsman!dick in a beanie.

10.5. i unironically love how titans has made this bizarrely-devoted-to-his-moniker, toxin-spewing supervillain into a tamer version of hannibal, psychoanalysing his victims into submission. it’s of a piece with how inward looking titans is, the way all of its villains are obsessed with how our protagonists’ minds work, to the point where they would actually spend time inside of them.

there are no big plots to end the world. no apocalypses or endgames here. these villains collect the titans’ insecurities like infinity stones. the way the titans defeat them is by achieving character growth--literally winning by the power of love. literally “the real superpower is the friends we made along the way”!

10.7. anyway, i’m betting dick is used to this bullshit from crane and is humouring him in the service of getting more information. the story about the wolf? an implicit threat, not to mention dick getting to control what crane knows about him and what methods he would use to manipulate him.

am i giving dick too much credit here? i don’t think so. he’s really impressed me so far this season.

10.75. like. there’s a real unreliable narrator vibe coming off with every person that talks about bruce (much like how the various members of the titans talked about jason’s motivations) and to buy into crane’s talk about bruce being a psychopath is to fall for the same manipulation that jason fell for. dick is the only person who hasn’t really psychoanalysed bruce this season, and i think some part of his detective brain is piecing things together into a bigger picture.

11. i’m glad kory rescued kom but did she have to kill the scientist?

(i mean, yeah, probably - the less people know that kom escaped the less likely they’re going to have the fucking govt on their doorstep, but still.)

11.5. dick’s gonna come back to wayne manor, stare straight at komand’r and go, well which room would you like? because the team might as well adopt ANOTHER person, yeah?

12. oh MAN that red hood/nightwing fight was AMAZING! and he did the thing! the boomerang escrima thing! i’m so delighted!

12.5. the anger and disbelief in dick’s voice when he says you told crane EVERYTHING?! tells me that he knew exactly what he was telling crane himself.

12.75. “everything you are is because of him” - oh that reminds me of halluci!bruce from last season. i hope we see halluci!bruce again--he is so vicious but so entertaining... so much more effective at tearing dick down than crane or jason combined. goes to show that dick’s biggest enemy is own fucking head.

12.8. oh no! dick’s shot! crane is in the wind with red hood! blackfire is now with the titans! i love it!

honestly this season’s pacing is such a big step up from the last couple. gold star, show.

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #dick grayson #koriand'r #garfield logan #komand'r #conner kent #dawn granger #jason todd #jonathan crane #a byronic cupcake #badass strawberry truffle #manic pixie pop tart #a tragic jalebi

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cakesunflower · 4 years

Text

Between The Aisles [Prince!Calum AU] One Shot

A/N: this is just a random piece i drummed up. it’s 5.3k which is relatively short for me LMAO. i MIGHT do a second part to this but i’m not too sure yet; it depends if i’m in the mood to write second person again since we all know how much i hate that. but anyways. happy reading hehe

The palace library is where you felt most at ease. It was, unsurprisingly, the quietest part of the overwhelmingly large estate, and you spent countless hours roaming the aisles, fingers brushing along the spines of the books, before finding a comfortable spot or a leather chair and losing yourself to a book of your choice. There were large windows on one side of the library, the glass actually taking up the entirety of the wall, allowing for endless natural light to bathe the room. The view was that of the valley below, the greenery as bright as the sunlight that streamed in—save for this time of year, where snow blanketed the grounds in pristine white and provided a haze through the sky. And sitting on a chair by the window, the snow falling gently outside, a book in your hands, was your favorite way to spend your time in the library.

Along with, of course, the moments the Prince caught sight of you.

The shelves in the library were many and stood tall, full of any and every novel and textbook and document the royal family and its curators could get their hands on to stock up. And through the gaps of the shelves down the long aisles, you would catch glimpses of Prince Calum making his way through, though never towards you—despite his attention being solely on you. You could feel it, every time—feel him. The way his dark eyes burned on your skin, a delicious sensation that simultaneously warmed you and sent chills down your spine. His wandering through the library would appear innocent, but you knew it was anything but. Knew that he was a predator on the hunt and every time, it was you who he was after. And you were compliant every time.

Sometimes, the Prince would join you by taking a seat across from you, a book in his own hands. You two would sit in the quiet of the library, both doing your best in keeping your interest strictly on the books you were reading, never giving away the glances you’d lay upon the other. It was a game; always wanting to look at the other, but never wanting to be caught.

It wasn’t as though your dalliance was forbidden; you were the daughter of Calum’s father’s, the King, most trusted advisor. You’d been living at the palace for as long as Calum had, were practically treated as royalty—though, not to the same extent as Calum, of course. But the only relationship you showed the world you had with Calum was that of being his friend, nothing more. It was easier that way, less attention.

You didn’t enjoy it—the attention. But if it was Calum’s, during your private moments, you reveled in it.

You often thought of that first night, where your friendship had turned into something more intimate, where you crossed a line neither of you expected to. It had been during one of the many parties the royal family threw in the palace—you couldn’t hope to remember what it had been for—and unsurprisingly had grown bored of the festivities. You were more prone to spend most of the night reading rather than drinking and entertaining people, which was why you had snuck off to the library. As the daughter of a high ranking member in the palace, just below the King and Queen, you were expected to present a smiling face and adapt to the role you were given. Unfortunately, your pretty face also deigned the attraction of the sons of noblemen and local lords—sons you didn’t want to entertain. So off to the library you went, the wine you had drank giving you the motivation to do so.

It hadn’t been long after until there was another presence in the grand library, and you had been surprised, that first night, to look up from the book you had been reading to see the Prince himself wandering inside. How you two ended up hidden between the aisles as he took you against the shelves was a blur—but the memory of it actually happening was one burned in your head.

It wasn’t as though the library was the only place where your trysts occurred; you’d often fall into one another’s beds, or the various hidden spots around the palace you grew up finding together in your explorations. But the library—it was a mutually favored location. A spot amongst hundreds of stories where you participated in one of your own, just for your eyes.

Tonight, you were lost in the corner where the wall met the historical fiction section of the library, your bodies hidden by the rows and rows of high rising shelves, the setting sun dimming the room. How easily had Calum slid the leggings off of you, hands gripping your bare thighs, rings chilly against your heated skin as your legs wrapped around his hips, while he devoured your moans with the kisses he gave you. He tasted like peppermint, smelled delicious, and fit in you perfectly, familiarly, as his hips drove into yours at a wondrous, greedy pace.

The world slipped away when it was just the two of you, and you tried not to think of how dangerous that was. To be so in tuned with the Prince, in how he made you feel, that everything else seemed second-best. But thoughts of anything else seemed impossible when you were with Calum, ever since you started seeking each other out for intimate companionship. You’d gotten a taste—more than a taste—and you were worried that you had grown addicted far quicker than anticipated.

When you finished, heavy breaths mingling with his face buried in the crook of your neck, stubble tickling your skin as your fingers remained tangled in his growing blonde hair, you closed your eyes. Still joined intimately, you waited for your heart rate to settle, were all too aware of the electricity still coursing through your veins in the aftermath of your shattering release. That’s what it felt like every time Calum brought you to the edge—like the world had slipped from beneath your feet and you were falling, falling, falling.

Calum pulled away as his dark eyes met your gaze, and the windows high on the wall behind you provided for just some of the setting sunlight to gleam against his eyes. His cheeks were slightly flushed, lips kissed. Your own gaze fell to them briefly, a tug in your chest to kiss him again, but you remained pressed against the wall, trying to ease your labored breathing. “You’re comin’ to the party tomorrow, right?” Calum asked, voice hushed and raspy, just a hint of breathlessness present.

You reveled in the feel of one of his hands raising so the back of his knuckle could graze along your cheek, his touch gentle. A small, lazy smile tilted at your lips as you gazed up at him, appreciative of the rasp in his voice that always trickled in when he was with you. “Of course,” you answered, just as quietly. With a teasing tone, you added, “I wouldn’t miss your Highness’s twenty-fifth birthday.”

He rolled his eyes, though the amusement danced in them, as well as in the tilt of his lips. Calum wasn’t too fond of you referring to him by his title—at least not when it was just you two, absent from the eyes of the public—but he was all too aware of your tendency to call him by such in a playful manner. He couldn’t lie, though—the look in your eyes when you did so, mischief glimmering in them, always stirred something in the pit of Calum’s stomach. Something desirable, something wanting.

“You have the habit of running out of parties early,” Calum pointed out with a ghost of a smirk, heart thudding when the flush on your cheeks darkened.

You leaned your head back against the wall, never breaking your gaze. Your voice was soft as you responded, “Nothing’s ever as riveting as what I find in this room.”

Calum quirked an eyebrow, smirk widening. You often found him in this room, just as he did you, so Calum was inclined to agree with your statement. He leaned in, fingers dragging up the warm skin of your thigh as his lips brushed against yours, the electricity of the touch singeing his veins. In a low voice, he persuaded, “At least wait until after the cake’s cut.”

A breathless laugh escaped you, knowing there was no significance in his request other than the fact that the cake was always cut hours into the party. Calum just wanted you to stay longer than you normally would. Since it was his birthday, you were inclined to let him have this. So you tilted your head, just enough to brush the tip of your nose with his, words coming out in a whisper, “As you wish, sire.”

You had expected his gaze to darken at your words, had expected them to push him towards the desire that still burned him enough to kiss you again. It was why you’d said them, after all.

*****

The party was more or less a masquerade ball. You knew it wasn’t Calum’s idea as much as it was his parents’, but you knew he didn’t entirely mind. The grand ballroom was decorated fittingly in blacks and purples, several tables along the sides of the room filled with delicious food, while the room itself was brimming with guests dressed in their finest suits and dresses, pairing them with intricate masks that covered their eyes.

You had gone for a red dress, the top half lace with off-the-shoulder full sleeves and a long, slim skirt of tulle that swayed with the slightest of movements. Your mask was of a matching red lace against a white velvet, the click of your heels against the sleek floor drowned out by the music playing and the chatter of the guests mingling. In your hand was a flute of, rings and nails clinking against the glass when you had grabbed it, sharp eyes taking in your surroundings as you moved about. There was an odd sense of relief in your chest that came with this being a masquerade—maybe you could get away with not being the daughter of the King’s advisor but just you.

Though every face was hard to place, there was one that you recognized right away—how could you not? Calum was the man of the night, and he certainly looked like it in his custom made black suit, the jacket glittering with swirling designs that gleamed under the bright lights of the ballroom. Even his mask, black with gold details, did next to nothing to hide his powerful personality. You recognized the rings on his fingers, the jewelry leaving imprints on your skin after every time you sought each other out for your private moments. You would know him anywhere by the way he carried himself, tall and proud and the next heir to the throne. You didn’t even need the stunning golden crown, bedecked in jewels of deep red and blue, to know that it was him. You’d know him anywhere.

You hadn’t seen each other for most of the day, so you were patiently waiting for the moment to go up to him and wish him a happy birthday, to smile at him from under your mask without worrying too much of people looking at you too closely. And you watched, in that moment, as Calum glanced around after breaking away from a couple of people he’d been talking to.

For a moment, you foolishly wondered if he was looking for you.

But then, through the space of guests in gorgeous gowns and elegant suits, somehow Calum’s eyes found yours. You noted the curve of his lips, expecting to see a smirk, feeling the air get knocked out of your lungs at the sight of the grin that he wore. Then he made his way towards you, and you started moving towards him as well, stopping right when you were in front of one another. You smiled, sweet and adoring. “Happy birthday, Calum.”

His smile widened when you uttered his name, raising his own glass to clink it against yours. “Hope you’re not planning your escape now that you’ve made an appearance.”

Your cheeks flushed but smile remained, shooting him a mock offended look. “I would never,” you soothed, adoring the amusement dancing in his eyes.

The music changed then, a whimsical ballad sweeping through the room as people sought partners to dance with. Calum’s dark eyes never left yours, and he offered his free hand with a gentle, “May I have this dance?”

One simply doesn’t reject the Prince with such a request. Ignoring the escalating beating of your heart, you and Calum both put your glasses on a passing waiter’s tray, throat tightening as you placed your hand in Calum’s and his fingers wrapped around yours. You were all too aware of the gazes that weighed you down, the eyes on the Prince and the girl he was pulling towards the center of the room, whether they knew who you were or not. The attention wasn’t anything you enjoyed, though you should be used to it at this point, but you tried to focus on just one thing: Calum.

He moved seamlessly through the crowd that made way for him, turning around to face you as his left hand grasped your right, your left resting upon his shoulder and reveling in his other arm wrapping around your waist, tugging you towards him, too intimate to be casual. But what the others in the room didn’t know just how far your intimacy went—far beyond the would-be innocent closeness of a slow dance.

You tried to put it out of your mind, the stares, as you and Calum moved to the ballad amongst the other dancing guests, your body taut as your front pressed against his, your dress swaying with your movements. “You’re not nervous because of me, are you?” Calum questioned, the teasing tone easing into his voice.

You were grateful for it, knowing that he was all too aware of your issues with too much public attention. Making light of it helped and he knew that. “You think too highly of yourself,” you replied quietly, a secretive smile curling at your lips.

A smirk pulled at his mouth, looking down at you through the mask. “I’m a Prince—it’s in my nature.”

“As is all this attention,” you said, almost breathlessly. You wished you could ignore the gazes completely, but it seemed next to impossible. With a small smile, you asked him, “Are you sure I can’t sneak off before the cake’s cut?”

Calum raised his eyebrows, fingers holding a pleasant grip on yours, the metal of his rings clashing with your thinner ones. “You’d leave me to fend for myself?”

A huff of a laugh escaped you, gently rolling your eyes as the small grin played on his face. “You’d be just fine without my company.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want it.”

Your cheeks flushed, warmth spreading through your body because of Calum’s words—and his own front pressed against yours. Your gaze slid over to your joined hands, a clear picture of crossing the line of casual and treading into intimacy with the way your fingers were linked together. It was difficult to block out the images flashing through your mind of your hands joined exactly like that, except it occurring during the moments where he took you against the wall in the library or where you both were tangled in either of your bed sheets. It was the way Calum held you that always had your thoughts wandering into dangerous territory, wondering if it could possibly be something more than just the two of you biding your time with each other’s company.

Was there room for something more? Did he want that? Did you?

Deep in your heart, you did. You couldn’t hide that even from yourself. But he was the Prince. And you often tried to escape whatever spotlight you already had in the palace—being with Calum would only intensify it.

The voice in the back of her head reminded you of what you already had accepted, He’s worth it.

“Hey,” Calum said softly, giving a squeeze of your hand until your gaze met his again. With a slight tilt of his head, he asked curiously, “Where did you go?”

When you got lost in your thoughts just then, you knew he meant. Calum had the ability to read people pretty well—it was something he learned to do effortlessly in his upbringing—and it never slipped your mind that he could do it exceptionally well where you were concerned. He could read you like his favorite book.

You were surprised you didn’t quite trip on your feet as you took in the way he was gazing at you. Brown eyes soft beneath the mask that glittered against his golden skin, an encouraging tilt on his lips. But you couldn’t tell him where your thoughts had taken you, couldn’t speak out about the imagination that held you captive most days, cruelly making you think about a relationship you didn’t believe would ever come to fruition. Calum was a Prince—he was destined to be with someone of royal status, or close to it, despite the way you, yourself, were treated because of your close affiliations with the royal family. Your name bore no title; you weren’t worthy. Not of him.

Before you could even think of an answer you could casually pass off, someone stepped up to you. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, loves,” Calum’s mother, the Queen, spoke with a smile, always kind. Her eyes went to her son from behind her emerald green mask. “But there’s some people who want to wish you, sweetheart.”

Calum glanced at you as you pressed your lips together in a kind smile. You’d stopped dancing at his mother’s arrival, but your touches remained. Calum glanced at you, as if he needed your permission to cut the dance short, and it pulled something in your chest as you gave just the barest dip of your chin. “I’m gonna get another drink,” you excused herself, reluctantly stepping out of his grasp. You didn’t dare acknowledge the coldness you felt without the warmth of his body.

You watched as he was whisked away, biting the inside of your lip as you made your way out of the dancing crowd. Like you had said, you grabbed another drink, this time going for some red wine as you found a spot to linger at by the wall. You watched, sipping your drink, as the Queen led Calum to a small group of people, and you knew immediately they were some of the local lords—their wives and daughters right by their sides.

Calum smiled at them, that charming Prince smile that effortlessly melted people, and you could just hear the giggles of the daughters despite the distance between you. You were so busy watching them, observing them, that you didn’t even notice the person who came to stand by your side until Luke huffed out a breath. “And so it begins.”

You glanced up at your friend, the silver mask making his light blue eyes pop as you raised an eyebrow. “What begins?”

Luke jerked his chin over to where Calum was, a wry smile on his lips. “The matchmaking. He’s already twenty-five, which means they’re gonna try to marry him off before he’s crowned king.” Luke shot you a glance, raising a curious eyebrow. “Come on, you know this.”

You did know this, and suddenly your skin flushed from embarrassment. He was the Prince—the next to become King, and everyone knew that it would be sooner rather than later. That in itself had never slipped your mind—the notion of him marrying, however, did. And you couldn’t understand how, not with the conversations the two of you sometimes had when you laid in bed, staring at the high ceilings of your rooms. Where Calum would talk about his excitement of becoming King despite the pressures that came with it, only ever worried about the thought of getting married.

He had made it clear to his parents, you knew, that he wanted to marry for love. Calum was never one to take something as significant as marriage lightly, and his parents understood—they, after all, had married for love. Still, that wouldn’t stop them from introducing their son to daughters of high ranking members of their society in hopes that one of them would catch Calum’s eye. It never escaped you that when Calum did talk about marriage, he always ended the conversation—before it could even start, honestly—by simply stating he’d only marry someone he loved, someone who wanted him and not his title. He could easily tell which girls were like that—most of them were, he had said.

And you’d just listen, not wanting to acknowledge the fact that loving Calum was easier than breathing—and that it was his very title that suffocated the confession in your throat before it could ever escape.

Your eyes were glued to Calum, watching that easy smile on his face as he chatted away with the women, and your chest tightened almost painfully. Every single available woman, you knew, would trip over their feet for Calum’s attention, to be the one he takes a second look at and be curious for more. And it twisted something in your stomach at the thought of it someday happening—of it happening tonight.

You and Calum—you weren’t anything. Just two friends who were fooling around, to put it crudely. Who were you to be allowed a seat next to him other than the daughter of the crown’s advisor?

The truth—one you already knew—slapped you in the face as you forced down the rest of the wine. How could you have been so stupid, so foolish, to fall for the Prince? How could you have believed that sleeping with him on more than one occasion wouldn’t lead your heart into despair? How naïve.

You barely managed another hour of the party when you finally slipped away, feeling some guilt pool in your stomach at not being able to stick around for as long as Calum had wanted you to. But he was busy; many beautiful women were surrounding him in hopes of securing a future—he wouldn’t miss your presence too much, you figured.

Of course you ended up in the library once more—getting lost in a fictional world with made up characters sounded much more enchanting than being stuck in reality. It was empty, unsurprisingly, the music and chatter of guests in the ballroom muted as you ventured into the one place you felt most comfortable. Despite it being nighttime, the sky beyond the glass wall was light with the haze of snowfall, frost icing the glass.

You ventured down a random aisle, deciding to pick a book by whatever its title was, hoping it would be enough to distract you from the weight that had settled in your chest. You didn’t know what you were going to do; you desperately hoped this feeling, this ache and yearning, would disappear soon for your own good. But it was wishful thinking, a bitter part of your mind reminded. Falling in love with Calum had been effortless; falling out of it seemed impossible.

You didn’t dare acknowledge the idea of him not feeling the same way about you at all.

Your retreat to the library remained undisturbed for about twenty minutes when, in the quiet of the room, you heard one of the large doors creak open. You had found refuge on one of the leather chairs, your mask sitting on the table beside you as a novel about witches and witch-hunters sat open in your lap, legs folded beneath you as your dress pooled around your lap.

Your heart raced at the thought of who would come to the library while there was a party in honor of the Prince going on, and it damn near stopped when Calum himself appeared, his mask missing as his dark eyes found you.

The breath hitched in your throat as he frowned, approaching you, features shadowed thanks to the dull lighting you’d set the room into. As you peered at him, your stomach sank when you saw the disappointment etched into his face, mixing in with the hurt you hadn’t entirely expected. You knew it was a shitty thing to do, to leave his birthday celebration so early, but you had been thinking with your aching heart. Getting away in order to free yourself from the view of Calum with potential suitors had become a selfish priority.

He stood just a few feet away from you, shrugging bitterly as he asked, “Did you even try to see your promise through?”

You wanted to tell him you didn’t technically promise him anything. Instead, what came out of your mouth was a muttered, “Didn’t think you’d even notice I left.”

Calum frowned, eyebrows knitting together and lips pulling downwards. “Of course I noticed you left. I would’ve come here sooner but Mum kept me by her side.”

Dropping your gaze back down to the open book in your lap, you scoffed lightly. “Right—to introduce you to a potential bride.”

You were losing control of yourself, you knew, with how easily the sarcastic and bitter remarks were slipping past your mouth. It was pathetic how unabashedly you were letting your feelings be known, practically shining a light on your jealousy and resentment. And it wasn’t fair—not to Calum, that you’d fallen for him. That you never let him know that there was something more you wanted with him. That putting aside your reluctance of being in any kind of spotlight would’ve been so easy so long as he was by your side.

“To introduce me to potential suitors, yes,” Calum corrected carefully, slowly, and you could just hear the bewildered frown in his voice. You watched from your peripherals as he took a step towards you. “But I’ve told you—and Mum—that if I were to get married, it’d only be for love.”

There was a burning in your eyes and you cursed yourself for becoming emotional. You couldn’t cry, not because of this. You willed the tears to keep at bay as you looked up once more to look at Calum. He was still frowning, confused as to what was happening, probably wondering what had gotten you in such a foul mood. Too quietly did you respond, “What’s stopping you from falling in love with one of them?”

Dangerous. You were creeping towards dangerous, exposing territory, but you no longer found yourself caring. If he found out about your feelings, then so be it. You wouldn’t shy away, wouldn’t hide. Not anymore. He would know, and then it’d be up to him what to do with it. And maybe that was a coward’s way out, giving him the power so you wouldn’t have to make a decision, but it would make it easier to breathe.

Calum’s lips tightened as his jaw clenched, the muscle feathering under the skin as he looked down at you. Emotions swirled in his dark gaze—too many for you to grasp. His crown glinted against the lights, but you couldn’t help but think his eyes glittered far more beautifully. His throat worked, voice a deep rasp as he held your gaze and stated evenly, “I won’t fall for any of them. I’m already in love with you.”

The air rushed out of your lungs, almost audible in the silence that followed his unwavering confession. You were frozen where you sat, drinking in the sight of him as his words hung in the air. The honesty was bright in his eyes for you to see, open and true and needing you to believe the sincerity in his words—his feelings. Your throat locked as you took in the Prince before you—a King in every right—who had just laid himself bare in a few short words that meant everything.

He loved you. Calum was in love with you.

The tears you had tried to keep away ran freely down your cheeks. You didn’t even care that you could taste the salt on the corner of your lips. Something in Calum’s face crumpled when he saw your tears, and suddenly the Prince was on his knees before you, hands grasping yours in your lap as he looked up at you.

“I’ve been in love with you long before we started finding each other in this library,” Calum said, his voice low and raspy and honest. His hands were warm around yours, the chill of his rings enticing as always. But all you could focus on was his brown eyes. On his earnest words. “It was torture—being with you but not being with you. But I kept it to myself out of fear that you didn’t feel the same, that you didn’t want the. . . Attention of being with me.” It was terrifying—and exciting—how well he knew her, in regards to his second statement, of course. Calum cracked a smile, small and hopeful. “Because holding you like that. . . Kissing you. . . and still being just your friend was better than the alternative.”

Your heart was erratic in your chest, breath shaking as your trembling lips parted and you whispered, “You want to be with me? Outside of the library?”

Calum tipped his chin up, maintaining your gaze, a softness in his eyes that melted your heart. “I want to be with you in any way you’ll have me.”

You would be lying if you said there was no fear in that idea. It was present, of course, derived from your aversion to the attention you would no doubt receive by being at Calum’s side. You wanted him, not his crown, even though most would say it was one in the same. But if being with him meant being tied to the throne, then you would bear it. For your happiness, you would do it. For him, there was no question about it.

Calum was waiting for your response, for you to say something, hands still clutching yours. And although this turn of events was unexpected, slightly frightening—it was all the more exciting and relieving. He loved you. He’d beensilently loving you, perhaps for as long as you have him, and you would have laughed at both of your cluelessness if you weren’t so deliriously happy.

So you leaned forward, the book in your lap long forgotten, gaze never leaving Calum’s. The brown of his eyes was always so compelling, so alluring, his mouth waiting to be kissed. Your lips tilted up, a warmth spreading across your cheeks as you told him quietly, “I’ve spent so long loving you between these aisles. I’m ready to do it out there, too.”

The smile he gave you wasn’t the one he wore as Prince, wasn’t the one he offered to lords and noblemen and their daughters and the media. No, this smile was one especially reserved for you; a smile that softened his eyes and decorated the corners with those happy crinkles, a smile that sent your heart racing and skin warming. It was the smile he gave you when you were in bed together, one he would shoot towards you during events neither of you were particularly fond of and your eyes met from across the room.

It was the smile he wore right before he kissed you for the first time since both of your feelings had been made clear, lips soft and eager. This smile was yours.

tags: @irwinkitten @loveroflrh @meetashthere @astroashtonio @loverofhood @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbabiesss @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @highfivecalum @malumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @miss-saltwatercowgirl @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @mindkaleidoscope @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysidesblog @miahelizaaabeth @dramallamawithsparkles @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @tpwkcal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @wildflower-cth @wildflowergrae @bloodmoonashton @vxidhood @gosh-im-short @notinthesameguey @mycollectionofnuts @cthwldflwr @everyscarisahealingplace @socorroann @talkfastromance4 @calumftduke @musichoney @treatallwithkindness @partlysunnycal @dead-and-golden @kaeleykaeley @harrys-sun-flower @br-hoe

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moth-based-cryptology · 3 years

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HELLO BESTIE I am currently having Ralbert Brainrot and you're the best person go come to for this, obviously,, so PLEASE share! I would like to hear about ufc albert or youtuber race, or dancing partners!! I love them smm

HI YES HELLO USING THIS AS AN EXCUSE TO WRITE UFC FIGHTER AL PART 2 THANKS BABES

i just witnessed a literal crime and i’m Feeling The Rage (boxing judges at mma events can catch these hands) so here is. my brain on anger.

also the first half of this is pretty fight-talk heavy but the second half is more al/ralbert central so message me/send me an ask if i don’t explain something well enough <3

here is the ask i sent to @we-are-inevitable (thanks jac i’m in love with you mwah) and here is part 1 for this au if you haven’t read that one yet !!

also,,,,, this is fairly obvious. but trigger warning for violence/physical fighting, as well as blood. (it’s a rough gig y’all fjdhdb) oh and swearing but that’s pretty much just me LMAO

here i am, bein mad and writing ralbert. therapy time with chandler ig

OK SO

this is after his debut. duh. continuation

i think he’s probably 5 fights in with 5 wins. he’s been running people through, especially with four full camps after a short notice start, and he’s never even seen a decision in the ufc

let’s just say the hype train is moving FAST and it’s moving LOUD

everyone has to have those people that watch their fights just to see them lose, on top of the majority male fan base that have to have a little bit of toxic masculinity and homophobia in there

so there’s A LOT of people that are waiting for him and his hype train to get derailed. but there’s also a fair amount of fans, so you win some you lose some (the way i would die to see this be a real fighter pls)

now albert’s not always the most confident guy, and he’s never been cocky, but none of this shit gets to him. he’s got his coaches, he’s got his friends and he’s got race behind him. he knows he’s got the skills, and he’s got his support system, so who gives a shit what a bunch of cowards on the internet have to say?

and then they put him against someone known for his grappling and stamina. and the “it’s a wrap for dasilva!” bandwagon starts. it happens every time a rising striker and early knockout artist fights a well known grappler with any semblance of later round power (even if al has a background in wrestling and has gone 5 rounds and won outside of the ufc. it’s a bandwagon for a reason)

and it’s not Upsetting, it’s not really getting into his head in any way that’ll make him do worse, but it’s kinda pissing him off. which is bad for his opponent

the last person on earth you want to be fighting is an annoyed albert dasilva who thinks he has something to prove

he works his ass off in camp, and the press tour is a self-assured albert vs. a loudmouth who thinks he’s hot shit cause a few people on twitter think he’ll sweep

and, to be completely honest? it’s starting to look that way 2 rounds in.

it’s a 5 round fight, co-main event on a big card, and so far all al’s opponent has done is pinned him to the cage and kept him there. a few strikes worth anything - at least enough make al’s cheek bleed, no takedowns, which would at least give him some activity, and so submission attempts, so he can’t even gain any ground that way. he’s just- Stuck. and if THIS is how he loses, he’s gonna be pissed

the bell for the second round sounds, and you can actually see al’s chest heaving on camera as he walks to his corner - not because he’s tired or out of breath, but because he’s MAD, and fuck if he’s not going to do something about it

not only that, but he can not only see race and jack standing up by the cage - plus race’s expression, which is slightly annoyed and super anxious, which hurts his chest to think about - but he can hear them too

jack is yelling profanities, as per usual. he doesn’t that regardless of how the fight is going, but it’s less encouraging when you’re the one losing.

race though,,,, race isn’t really yelling, he’s more talking to himself than anything, but he’s close enough to cage and al knows him well enough to figure out what he’s saying. and if the muttered almost-prayers while he paces back and forth weren’t enough, the shiny gold engagement ring on race’s hand definitely is

round 3,,,, let’s just say it goes a little differently than the first 2 had gone.

he opens with a spinning back kick, of all fucking things, and that truly sets the pace

he’s the taller guy by a few inches, like usual, which makes his arms longer. the only reason crushing his against the cage worked is cause the guy he’s fighting cuts weight like a wrestler, so he’s easily got 20 pounds on albert come fight night

but once he finds his rhythm and starts throwing, he starts connecting too. he manages to stay out of range of his opponent and stay his comfortable distance to start t-ing off

this isn’t a one punch power ending. this isn’t a beautiful head kick, or a giant knee, or even just a clean right hook.

this is albert, who’s arms are starting to feel the 3rd round a little bit, hitting this guy with everything he has cause he refuses to lose this fight.

i mean- everyone watched him get up at the start of the round with a set jaw and a scary determined glint in his eye. he’s not a person you fuck with, and he’s definitely not a person you publicly ridicule before being locked in a cage to fight with

the guy he’s fighting is absolutely battered, but he manages to survive until round 4. the first of the championship rounds, something al’s never seen in a ufc fight before, and it feels like the arena is holding its breath

so when al comes out and does the same thing as round 3 to better results - fight ending results - everyone’s a little shocked, honestly

the commentary team’s in disbelief, cause albert is NOT a slow starter, regardless of what this fight would tell you, and the fact he managed a win at all, let alone such a phenomenal one, is fucking astounding

he gets his hand raised, obviously, but the really interesting part is the post fight interview

“albert, man, what changed between round 2 and 3? what second gear did you find?”

“bro, i just— it was pissing me off, honestly. i don’t come in here to get pinned down for 25 minutes. and, y’know, my team gave me good advice. i had all the pieces, straight from the jump, someone just had to force me to put them in place…”

and then he looks over at race, who gives al one of those half grin, half smirks and winks at him, and al just chuckles to himself and finishes answering the question

“the thing that really forced my hand is race. i won’t get cheesy on you, but watching someone who loves and supports you through everything panic cause he’s scared for you - it’s a big motivator. everyone would figure out a lot more of my motivations if they went and watched race’s expressions back instead of whatever the hell i’m doing in here. he’s always been the brains, i’m just the brawn.”

and that’s a better answer than anyone was expecting, plus he’s just had the fight of a lifetime that’s probably earned him a title shot, so he’s done soon after that and gets to have his little in-cage celebration

he hugs his team and jack, who razzes him a little bit as per usual, and makes some dumb quip about going over tapes later like he’s a coach. and then comes race

he hugs him, all tender and cute and also very sweaty cause That’s How It Works, and the camera’s focused on him, so they can tell they’re whispering back and forth. but there’s no mics on them, so what’s said is missed entirely on the audience, but it’s their usual cheesy, in love mess

“congrats, baby. i’m proud of you.”

“oh please. it was 90% you anyway. i meant what i said, it wasn’t just for the cameras.”

“i know that. i’m gonna have to get you back somehow for telling everyone to go back and watch my awful anxious expression. i’ll think of something.”

“i’m sure you will, sweetheart.”

and then al does that awful, adorable lil nose bump thing, and then kisses race. and then jack covers his eyes and whines until they stop like the actual 12 year old boy he is inside

and then they leave the octagon, race and al holding hands, and al throws his arm over jack’s shoulder and shoves his head down and pushes him, cause even though he was just in a literal cage match he’s still a roughhousing teenager at heart

and he’s got interviews and press shit that separates him from his people, and he’s gotta slide that bulletproof mask back down over all the happy and in love shit he’s feeling so he can not smile like an idiot on camera constantly

but every once in awhile he’ll catch jack giving him the finger and laugh before returning it below view of the camera

or he’ll catch race’s eye from where he’s standing behind all the studio lights and do a little wave under the camera and return the wink from earlier, and the unbothered fighter facade will crack a little bit

but he’s not completely convinced that’s such a bad thing

GOD THIS POST IS SO MUCH LONGER THEN I MEANT IT TO BE IM SORRY

but Yeah. Them.

i love this au a helleva lot more than i should but that’s Fine cause i’ve got thoughts for days on it

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red-hood-redemption · 3 years

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SO I know I’m like, super late to the party, but I finally got my hands on Robin 2021 and there is literally no one for me to talk to about it so now I’m just screaming my thoughts into the void ✌

First off, before i even bought the first two issues, I read through a lot of other people’s opinions on it to kinda get an idea of where it was going characterization-wise for Damian, and because of all the mixed reactions, I figured I should just read it myself and find out. Now I am the FURTHEST thing from a comic book authority, so like, this is truly just an opinion piece but if it convinces anyone to give the run a chance, then yay!!! Honestly, I’m really glad I gave it a shot because I’m genuinely hooked! I’m actually excited about this series (and it scares me lol)!!!

I'm gonna separate my thoughts into two sections: characters, and story, mainly for my own ease, but also if anyone cares more about one thing or the other it's easier to distinguish. But, the line is a little blurry so if I end up getting a little too much into the characterization in the story section, just bear with me lmao. OH and I'm going to try and keep this as un-spoilery as possible but we'll just have to see. SOOOOOOOO

Characters

I think it goes without saying that Melnikov's art is absolutely gorgeous, and really does show how much Damian has grown up. It makes me want to sob its so beautiful, everyone is so pretty, even the guy that looks like a washed up, high as fuck Tony Stark lmao. But moving on to the actual characters,

Rose Wilson

I honestly don't know too much about Rose, I haven't read enough about her to say anything about her characterization and how it compares to her other appearances, or whether or not she is OOC, but so far, I'm enjoying her taking up the "big sis" role, like, immediately lmao.

I don't know how much I trust her yet, but I definitely get the vibe that even if she does betray Dami in any way, she's probably gonna stick her neck out for Dami again and he's probably gonna do the same.

I'm really intrigued about her motivations for being here. Obviously, Respawn has something to do with it, but I want to know what's up with that. I've seen a lot of theories and I'm so excited. Also side note, that Black Swan chick is hot, and I can't wait to see more of her in action!!!

I feel like Ravager knows a WHOLE lot more than Dami does about the interesting things going on on the island, mainly because she's been doing a lot more sitting and waiting than he has as of yet, but I'm hoping to see more of the two of them doing detective-y sleuthing together. We love a mysteryyyy

Flatline

Okay but real talk, why does she look like a character straight out of Monster High

Honestly tho, I dig it. It's cute! She's cute! She isn't annoying (yet) but I don't know if I care too much about her other than she would make a cute friend for Dami.

I think the problem with DC is that they know people LOVE Harley Quinn and they try so hard to make characters just like her but it always falls short, so honestly I am a little wary of her character development in this run, but I'm willing to give her a shot since her little coffin purse on the cover of the second issue is so damn cute. I'm a slut for character design, okay?

Oh speaking of Flatline and Dami, I don't ship it and I don't want them to force a romantic relationship into Damian's "coming of age"/"soul-searching" moment okay? Because that's what this run is about, at least to me! More on that in the story section!

They're literally 13/14 years old. That's 8th-9th grade, babes lets think about that for a minute

Also let's stop the whole "lets introduce a female character just to make her a love interest!" bullshit okay?

Basically, Flatline is interesting, or at least has the potential to be, but I don't want to get my hopes up because DC is notorious for disservicing their female characters 😕

I think the mixed reaction to her is valid, I don't think she's had much time to make a solid impression yet, so I guess you'd have to read it for yourself. Personally, I don't understand why people immediately hate her, especially because she's like, 14, and what kid that age isn't annoying? like at least a little bit lmao! But, yeah. I don't trust her either but literally everyone on this island is sketchy at least and a murderer at best, so hey 🤷‍♀️

Damian

His new outfit lmaoooo at first I was like "WHaT is this child wearing? You'd think Dick would have rubbed off on him and taught him what good taste looks like" but then I saw the later outfit, with the gold patterning and those sleeeevessssss ugh and I take it all back. A Fashion Icon TM. Truly stunning. A sight to behold. So proud, look at him go 😪

I think there's a lot of different opinions on Damian's characterization in this run, and I can definitely see where its coming from, but I disagree with the notion that Damian has been done dirty and reverted to a blood-thirsty, feral child. And I have a LOT of opinions on the whole "feral" thing regarding Damian period (but that's for another time).

I don't think of Dami's rampage as a regression for his character. He's letting of emotions right then and I think its very similar to him venting. Its just not verbal, its physical and he knows he's not going to have to grapple with the consequences of his actions on the first kill. He knows he's technically not doing anything wrong.

He is clearly upset at Bruce and his failure to protect Alfred, and while Dami and Bruce are really often described as being very similar personality-wise, they are still distinctly different individuals who came to their current moral codes in vastly different ways. Bruce came to his "no killing" rule on his own; he made that decision for himself. It wasn't taught to him, it was a moment-of-truth kind of situation. Damian, on the other hand is in a vastly different situation.

Dami is, I think, at the beginning of the climb to his own moment-of-truth. He is in his rebellious phase like Dick, where he's gone off to spread his wings. It's not his conscious intention (at least that's not the vibe I got from reading the first two issues), but its directly underlying his "mission".

Damian is growing out of the expectations of his parents and into his own person. We all know he's been thrown from one moral code to another, both drastically different from each other. I don't think its a regression for him to lose his way a little, because realistically, he's going to have to in order to find it, specifically a moral compass that he forged on his own. He's just what? 14? Like hell a kid his age wants to listen to any form of authority. He's as stubborn as it comes. Damian needs to come to his decision regarding the path he takes in life on his own. It can't be made for him. He's seen and lived both sides of the coin, and I don't think he should be forced just yet to choose a side or pave a middle ground, but I do think that he should get the opportunity to see and experience all the gray areas on his own.

I think I'll transition from characterization to story here, because let's face it, this story is about Damian dealing with his confused emotions right now, in the wake of losing Alfred, a man that kind of acted like a grounding presence, a voice of reason, or a moral compass for him (and honestly Bruce and the rest of the bat crew if we're honest).

Story

So there's a lottttt going on in the story that is really enticing and exciting, and I'm really interested to see how it all plays out.

All the rules to the tournament are so, sketchy? Like they don't sound like they are meant to be sketchy, its basic safety and guidelines or whatever but with all the glowy green shit and the stakes of the tournament? Yeah, you can bet your ass its the "no fighting at night" and other shit is gonna be broken, and that's likely when the fun begins *insert evil laughter*😈

I was slightly put off by the whole "let me teach you to have fun" thing with Rose, because it's not like Dick, Steph, Jon, and like the Titans haven't done that with him too, but eh, not something I'm too concerned about. It's definitely just a segway to get us introduced to more characters that might become Damian's friends which will be interesting considering what Mother Soul said about fraternizing.

And that's another thing! I want Damian to make some friends! I know he already has some, but here's the thing: I think he's already been struggling with belonging, and he's definitely been feeling the disconnect between his life and other kids', whether they're supers/vigilantes or not. I think it'd be nice to see Dami have the experience of meeting people who he at first thinks are just like him!! and then realizing that maybe he doesn't really fit in here either, and that it's okay to feel like you don't belong, as isolating as it may feel at times. It just means you have a set of values. I want him to realize that its not always a bad thing, and you learn more about yourself and your own heart this way.

And from there,,, lets talk about the thing that stuck out to me the most in these two issues! GUILT!! It's mentioned SOO many times already, and I think its going to be a really fun, heartbreaking, and interesting aspect to explore about Damian. Is it guilt about his actions? Leaving behind family? Not being able to save Alfred? Not being a perfect example of Robin? He may call himself Robin but he doesn't sport the OG look or symbol like before. I love that his guilt takes on the form of Alfred though, or at least his conscious. I think it'd be really interesting to see this conscious disappear when Dami strays too far from his center, and when he finds it again, it reappears.

I really think that seeing Damian's actions in this run as a failure of character development is an unfair assessment, though. You can't do everything right in order to grow! You have to screw up, lose your way, experiment with life to find your fit, right?

Something tells me he doesn’t care for the tournament itself, but the end result, and the people behind it and more about WHY it was hidden from him. I mean he finds out the tournament TRULY begins once everyone has died once and tHEN he kill everyone? Felt to me less like a “killing spree” as everyone put it to a calculated decision to get the tournament going. He literally cuts Mother Soul off in the middle of her speaking to start fighting at the beginning

Anyway, just my thoughts lol. I do have some issues with the past two issues, and I might make a separate post about that, but honestly not enough for me to dislike Robin 2021 so far. I mean, besides the very obvious white-washing in the second issue, because DC can absolutely do better. And they should. It’s like they thought we wouldn’t notice???? But besides that, story and characterization-wise I’m looking forward to more. Here’s to hoping it stays that way, just with a better colorist!

#dc comics #robin 2021 #damian wayne #robin

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dreaming-of-assclass · 3 years

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CURSED MINDS THINK ALIKE BAHDJSNSKS

“I’ve never felt like this about anyone before!” Feat Okajima suddenly Discovering he likes Hayami because of her personality and not bcz of her appearance or whatever

While accepting she won’t like him back and... angst lmao? Or no angst you decide haha :eyes:

If anyone is confused, this came from both me and Nao thinking of a Valentine’s prompt for Hayami/Okajima 😂 aka the ship we love in a serious way and a crack way lmao.

This turned out be more of an introspective character study lol, but I hope I did it justice, bestie <3

Word Count: 1,694 words

In all fairness, Okajima mused to himself, it’s not like any part of this year went like planned.

Getting sent to Class E was a punch in the gut, for sure. There was no denying that, not after the laughter from his former classmates or the yelling he had to hear from his mom once he broke the news to her.

He’d been expecting a year of slacking, if he was going to be truly honest. He’d already reached rock bottom, no use in wasting his time and energy trying to get back into the main campus. Not when he was an average student, at best.

Fooling around during lessons, being labelled the class clown, hanging out with his friends, admiring his female classmates, overall having a good time. That was what he believed would await him in the dingy old building of 3-E.

Instead, their teacher was replaced by a giant yellow octopus who moved at Mach 20 and was gonna destroy the world, and it was up to him and his 25 classmates to save it.

Yeah. Big change of plans.

Okajima found himself actually being motivated to work, more and more everyday. He felt...excited to go to school everyday and feel better about himself, and his academic capabilities. He loved contributing to assassinations and proving himself a valuable member of the class.

But there was one part of him that didn’t quite go away for a while.

He sighed. His inexplicable love of female anatomy. That was the...polite way to put it. His classmates would phrase it as “his insufferable pervertedness.” Which was totally fair.

It was really shameful how he’d acted for a long time. His defining trait had been born from a life of being raised by his father, as well as the tiny voice in himself screaming for attention. To get noticed in some way, even if it earned him ire and scorn.

For a while, Okajima wasn’t sure how to interact with others beyond showing his perverted nature.

And looking back now, that was such a cowardly excuse he used. It had taken him way too long to realize that.

Okajima hated how he used to be, and his eyes were awakened after the girls in his class explained to him what was wrong. How his actions made them feel insulted and uncomfortable.

He painfully recalled the sharp sensation in his chest that formed to a lump in his throat at hearing their words.

It was never his intention to hurt them.

Okajima vowed to change that part of himself, and it was much easier than he thought it’d be. Looking back, it seemed like most of his problems in general came from overthinking.

The year was almost to an end now, and it was early February. Okajima had made a lot of progress, and he was happy to know how much he’s changed. How he had better, more honest relationships with his classmates now.

Well...there was still a bit of an issue...

Hayami.

The issue was Hayami.

Of course, not in a literal sense. Okajima could never think of her as that...not with the way she pushed back her bangs while reading, when he’d catch her watching cat videos in class, or the occasional times she’d laugh at his jokes...

He groaned to himself. I really do have it bad, don’t I?

As shocking as it sounded, he’d never had a crush before. Not on a girl, at least. Since there was that one boy in sixth grade who he-

Back to the topic, lusting after girls didn’t count as crushes, he realized belatedly. All of the objects of his admiration were solely for their looks, really.

But...somehow Hayami was different.

Like yeah, she had a banger body in his opinion, the perfect dancer build. But even before he’d had a change of character, that didn’t quite catch his attention as much as it usually would.

His favorite part of Hayami would always be the core of who she was. How she didn’t take bullshit from anyone. How she worked so hard, more diligent than anyone he’d ever known. How she kept a cool head all the time and was so reliable.

He just loved that she was tough and unapologetic for it.

The first time she’d responded to one of his stupid comments with a sharp, fierce glare, Okajima felt a thrill run through him. Partly out of fear, of course, but mostly out of...curiosity.

She was so different, so mysterious. He wanted to know more about her. And since they were seatmates for the year, that gave him some opportunities.

He was the first to know of her love for cats. He’d caught her looking wistfully at pictures of them on her phone, and he wisely kept that observation to himself. And a few days later, he gifted her with a cute cat-themed stationary set, claiming that his mom mistakenly bought it.

The way Hayami’s eyes lit up as her lips curved up in a small smile, a whisper of “thank you” falling off them was extraordinary and made Okajima’s heart leap.

Hayami’s other quirks soon added to his feelings towards her. He loved seeing her fidget with her pigtails absentmindedly. How she doodled pictures of cats on the side of her notebook. The way her feet created a small rhythm against the wooden floor, counting to a beat. How she looked like a complete badass during P.E class, loading her gun and shooting with it effortlessly.

Okajima sighed, his arms falling atop his face as he lay in bed. These new...romantic feelings were overwhelming, to say the least. He felt like voicing his thoughts, just so someone- anyone could give him advice. His dad and brother were absolutely out of the picture, though. So the most trusted people were...

He reached over and grabbed his phone, dialing a familiar number.

“Alright, dude. You said you were going through a crisis.” Mimura leaned back into his beanbag seat, popping a piece of candy into his mouth. “What’s up?”

Okajima leaned down slightly, his forearms resting onto his knees. “Well...it’s not really a crisis. It’s just...something new that I’m not used to.”

Sugaya raised an eyebrow from his spot on his bed, glancing up from his pencil in his hand he’d been observing. “I swear, if this is puberty-related-”

“It’s not! It’s more like, my feelings towards something has changed and I’m not sure why.”

“Shoot.”

Okajima took a breath then released everything in one go.

“I have a crush on Hayami and it’s not just for her appearance. I really like her personality. I think she’s a total badass who can step on me and I’d love it. But I also think she’s adorable and I wish I could get closer to her. But I know there’s no way in hell she’d ever like me back, so I’m just accepting that and...yeah.”

His friends’ eyes widened simultaneously, as Sugaya dropped his pencil and Mimura paused, holding his candy mid-air. The look they exchanged was almost comical, so Okajima let out a shaky laugh. “Uh...guys?”

Mimura snapped back to reality. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just...surprised.”

The artist hummed. “Yeah...I mean, don’t get me wrong. I knew you’d fall in love or whatever someday. But your crush is what surprises me...”

“Yeah, why Hayami?” Mimura chimed in.

Okajima frowned slightly. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean...she’s pretty scary,” Sugaya replied.

“And emotionally unavailable,” Mimura added.

“She’s super reserved.”

“Kind of...bitchy on her worst days-”

“Okay!” Okajima raised his voice, irritably. “Are you two done? Did you even hear what I said earlier?”

“No because you said it all really fast in one breath.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, smartass, there’s so much more to her that I really adore. And I don’t think it’s right to...when you like someone, you accept every part of who they are. You shouldn’t pick and choose what you like about them.”

His friends glanced at each other again. “I guess you have a point,” Sugaya admitted.

Okajima sat back with a sigh. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone before,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Like...all I wanna do is see her smile and be happy. I wanna make her laugh. Seeing her every morning is enough to make my day. I know it sounds dramatic but...”

Mimura frowned at him. “Would you ever confess? Maybe there’s a chance that she-”

The photographer cut him off. “There isn’t.”

“Dude, you don’t-”

“Even if she did, I wouldn’t want us to be together,” Okajima replied. He gave his friends a thin smile.

“She deserves so much better than someone like me.”

Okajima stopped in front of the door, his hand hovering above the knob. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the thundering sound of his own heartbeat.

It was just another typical day. Or, as typical as a day could be given the circumstances of their class.

And yet, voicing his ambivalent feelings last night gave way to a heaviness that settled deep into his chest. It weighed him down and brought a crushing sensation to his throat as well, like it was hard to breath.

“It’s just in my head,” he muttered to himself, finally turning the doorknob.

Stepping into the classroom almost felt like a dream. He stood briefly as if in a daze, holding his bag. A second passed and he moved mechanically towards his seat.

All around him, his classmates were getting ready for the day. Setting up their desks, gathering around to chat, some were eating a quick breakfast. It didn’t matter: everything just blurred around him anyways.

He set his bag down and began pulling out his supplies. The words fell from his lips in an excited greeting, a grin automatically forming on his lips.

“Good morning, Hayami!”

She turned in his direction, her hand resting elegantly under her chin. Her lips quirked up into a small smile as she returned his greeting. Her tone was casual yet genuine and it sent electricity through him.

“Morning, Okajima.”

Yeah. She deserved only the best.

And it wasn’t him.

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momo-de-avis · 3 years

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what are 2 books you feel you should be financially compensated for reading (beyond reimbursement for purchasing them)?

hard mode: nothing by zuzas.

now those are high stakes

first of all, this is hard for me to answer because I genuinely cannot read a book through to the end if I don't like it. I won't go past fifty pages if it's annoying me. So there are only a handful of books I can say I hated because I wasted time reading them, and even those I didn't finish.

But there are two, and one of them I actually talk about it all the time

First of all, fuck you, Flaubert. Fuck Emma Bovary. Fuck that book. Not only financial compensation, but emotional of some sort, cause you go through the 7 stages of grief reading that piece of garbage. Not after, during.

Like, every time I try to explain why I hate Madame Bovary so much I tell this little anecdote about my life. It was probably 2AM, I was still living with my mom, and I was in the living room. Back then, the History Channel---before it became exclusively devoted to Aliens, Hitler, and World War II---had a super interesting show called, I believe it was, Great Books. I caught only a few episodes, there was one on Janes Austen, another on Dostoevsky---and yes, one for Madame Bovary. Which was the one I saw that night.

And on that night, I was just chilling on my ass, and there was this expert on Flaubert explaining how the guy came up with the idea for the book. This woman had a PhD in literature. She studied Flaubert's life and history down to the letters and his intimacy. And I chuckled to myself, completely alone---and listen, you're free to believe whatever the hell yall want, but I swear on my cat this shit is true---and said to myself: "I bet this guy ran away to a cabin and dressed himself as woman to write this book." In fact, I hate Madame Bovary SO MUCH I've making this joke for YEARS, and it's why I call that pile of regurgitated french trash "literary transvesty" because it is literally a man playing dress up with no counter-balance to the absolute derailment of this woman's down-spiral. It's just the story of Emma Bovary going off her rockers, and there's no point where there might a slight indication of societal criticism. She's just a piece of shit. You know, at LEAST Tolstoi gave us Kittie and Levine as a counter-point. At LEAST Tolstoi built-up an immense backdrop with Stepane's adultery to understand the horrid treatment Anna is subjected to. At LEAST we are given a good characterisation of Karenine enough, whereas Charles Bovary is limper than a soggy sock. The only Ken doll I owned as a child had more charisma, and that bitch had no clothes.

And AT THAT POINT in the documentary, that lady expert with a whole PhD says something to this effect: APPARENTLY, Flaubert DID run off into a cabin in the fucking woods or some shit, and he did so with a locket, and what was in that locket? The hairs of his lover. Like, oh my God, I hate you so fucking much.

What I hate THE MOST about Madame Bovary is that despite being a shit book and shit story, and having been written by a guy who purposefully isolated himself from the woman he loved in the ass of the world, with a piece of her hair, as he dead ass attempted to "become a woman", whatever the hell that meant (but then again, so did every romantic writer back in the 19th century), this motherfucker was trialled in a court of law for this book (because adultery, women are frail, scandal, blah blah blah), and his defense was so amazing he actually coined a very important term in writing called Indirect Free Speech. Like, I genuinely hate this motherfucker but this absolute genius final take on his shit book just makes me hate him more. (For reference, this is where I learned this, Hans Robert Jauss explains this in his book Reception Theory)

The second book I think I deserve financial compensation for wasting the like, 3 days I wasted reading those first 100 pages or so, was Juliet Marillier's Daughter of the Forest. Oh my God. Listen, back in the day, like every teenage girl in the early/late 2000s, I was discovering paganism and that kind of crap, so I had a lot of wiccan friends. And there was Charmed. Not the rebooted crap, the OG Charmed, when Rose McGowan was closeted terf and we believed she was cool. Everyone loved Charmed. And everyone who bought into the new-pagan stuff and wiccan stuff, they were all introduced by one of two ways: either it was Charmed, or The Mists of Avalon. Either or. No other way. At least around my circle, that is.

So I had a lot of friends squealing over this one book from Marillier. I was absolutely obsessed with Arthuriana because of Mists of Avalon, and my wiccan/goth friends were all over me telling me "OH you GOTTA read Daughter of the Forest if you love Mists of Avalon". It's comforting to know the one wiccan friend who persisted with that crap went wacko and literally vanished into the horizon because I wanted to smack her in the face with that stupid book.

Basically, at the time, I was balls deep into Irish Mythology. And as I read it, I thought it was EERILY SIMILAR to the Children of Lir. Evil stepmother transforming her step-children into swans? Hm? The one thing that threw me off was that, in the story, the hero had to sew these shirts from some godawful plant that fucked up her hands, and that ISN'T in the original Children of Lir story. Then again, Children of Lir is genuinely not a compelling story. Of all Irish myths, it might be the least compelling.

However, I recently learned that IT IS the same tale, despite what Marillier sold as being "inspired by the Brother Grimm". It turns out the Children of Lir is a tale known throughout Europe, spanning from Spain to Ireland, with some variations, and it exists in Germany, where the sewing of the shirts with that weird plant is a plot point. So I guess that was a determent, considering the story is set in Ireland. Also, you can tell the story was written by a herbalist because, oh my god she goes off about plants all the time.

I basically stopped reading because the heroine is a bit obnoxious and it felt like the plot was going nowhere. And at some point, it was literally a book about plants. Like, Marion Zimmer Bradley's books can be boring (take the Forst House, which is one of my favourites, there's gotta be like 100 pages in there about Eilan's boring life picking flowers, but it builds up to her character, at least). But this one, it was going nowhere, while at the same time, Bretons were landing in Ireland? What? My anger came from when I checked the wikipedia page before I gave up because I wanted to see if there was something redeemable in that shit, like, come on, motivate me. And when I read that there's a fucking rape plot thrown in there that bears no relevance for no other reason than... I don't know, fear of men? I gave up. That was definitely when I stopped reading and decided to set it aside. It's weird cause, from what I remember, I think the author wanted to write it in pagan Ireland, but I don't remember a single mention of a pagan god? It was so convoluted, man.

And why the Children of Lir??? I 100% share the opinion of Sorcha Hegarty from Candlelit Tales regarding the Children of Lir: it is THE LEAST interesting tale in Irish Myth, and also---and these are her words, not mine---the least Irish lmao

Honourable mention: Thérèse Raquin by Zola is another one that made me SO FUCKING PISSED OFF that piece of shit book REQUIRES psychological counseling. Like, financial compensation isn't even enough to go through that crap.

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sweethq · 4 years

Text

♡ When they give you head pats // headcanon

❝fluffy hcs of reader getting head pats from kenma, nishi, and hinata… 🥺👉👈 ❞

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* requested by: anonymous *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

𑁍 Characters: Kozume Kenma, Nishinoya Yū, Hinata Shōyō

»»—Trigger warning(s): none —-««

➶ Genre: fluffffff

-ˏˋ A/N: I was kinda worried on how this would turn out but I think it’s really cute 🥺 ˊˎ-

you and kenma met in your first year of high school when you were paired together for a project

things were really awkward at first because he like,, never talks lol

buuuut when you went to his house after school to work on the project you noticed all of his video games lying around and thought that it would be a good conversation starter

and oh boy were you correct

you could ask him about any game and he could talk about it for so long, like a solid 2 minutes

you had just met kenma, but something about him intrigued you and it made you happy to see how passionate he was about his games???

you didn’t know much about video games, and hadn’t really played any, but you wanted that to change

minecraft was the only game you knew anything about since it was fairly popular and a friend of yours had shown you a video or two

kenma told you that if you wanted to get an account, that he would teach you how to become a master

sooooooooo that's what you did

you bought the game (spending a whole ass $27 just so you could bond with kenma smh) and hung out with him a lot just so you could get the basics down

he decided that it would be fun to play on a public server instead of creating your own world, so you hopped on the server of kenma’s choice and followed his lead

he insisted that you guys play survival games first since the point of it is straightforward: collect items from chests and try to kill people. simple.

you somehow managed to die within the first 15 seconds, so you demanded that you play another round

each round came and went, all of them resulting in you dying without being able to so much as hit another player, and kenma coming in top 3 each time

you were starting to get frustrated that you couldn’t even complete the simple task of playing this game correctly, but you were not going to quit

you made it your goal to get at least one kill, no matter how long it took

you and kenma played this game for longer than you’d like to admit, but you gradually got the hang of it and came closer and closer to your goal

on game #3545632 you finally managed to kill someone!!!! and after that, you got another kill!!

you couldn’t help but jump up and down with excitement, so happy that your hard work paid off

“kenma!!!!! did you see that??!?!?! i got two kills that round, TWO!”

“i’m so proud of you”

he gave you a soft smile and a smol pat on the head

you froze and nearly passed out on the spot

you hadn’t known kenma for long, but you knew him long enough to know that he never displayed any physical affection with anyone and that it took a lot for him to even give the smallest smile

and you just managed to get both of those things from him

now that you reached your goal of getting a kill in minecraft survival games, your next goal is to now receive another head pat from kenma

you and noya have been friends since you were in 4th grade

he lived across the street from you, so you guys would do everything together

his energy and bright personality were infectious, causing you to be the same way when you’re together

but recently, life has been kicking your ass

it started to feel like nothing was going your way, everything you did just didn’t seem to work out

you failed a test that you studied so damn hard for, you got caught in the rain walking home from school and all of your notebooks got ruined, you had two pieces of bread left so you threw them in the toaster and they burnt

the list just keeps going on and on

you were usually one who didn’t have a problem with keeping your emotions under wraps, but they started to pile up and one night, the dam broke

you were at noya’s house for a movie night when it happened

there you were, watching Paul Blart Mall Cop when you suddenly burst into tears

poor noya was so flustered at the sudden change of emotions and had no idea what was happening or what to do

it had been years since he had seen you cry

of course, like a lot of people, you had your fair share of cries throughout the years, but you always made sure to do it when you were by yourself, scared to burden others with your emotions

noya was SO sad to see his best friend this upset, he knew that you had to have been going through a lot to make you suddenly cry in front of him

he kinda just sat there staring at you at first lol because he didn’t know what to do?????

usually he would just crack some stupid jokes to make you smile, but something told him that this wasn’t the correct time for that

he decided that what you needed most was comfort, so he scooted closer to you and pulled you into a hug

a memory flooded back to him from when you guys were kids and you were upset

he would hug you and give you little pats on the head and it made you instantly feel better

it had been years since he last did that, but he thought it was worth a try

he raised his hand and gave your head a comforting *pat pat*

he could feel you smile against his chest and your breathing become calmer

noya continued to pat your head gently, making a mental note that this was the key to your happiness haha

you had just met hinata recently since you were in the same class and were assigned to sit next to each other

you guys clicked instantly, loving his bright and bubbly personality

he would tell you about his life; hobbies, family, passions

and of course, the thing he told you was most important to him was volleyball

that sparked your interest because you always loved to watch volleyball on tv and even go see some local matches

but you had never played, mostly because you never had anyone to teach you

sooooooo now that you have hinata by your side, you didn’t waste time in asking him to show you the ropes

he was so excited !!!!!!!

he’s never had someone ask him for help with volleyball, and he was determined to be the best damn teacher in the world

it took a lot of practice, and you started off slow

you practiced receiving, diving, serving, and lastly, spiking

suga helped you guys out with being your setter (kageyama refused to spend any more time with hinata than he already had to, plus, he had to go to supplementary classes lol)

the first fifty balls that suga set for you were missed

whether it was because you got the timing wrong, you didn’t jump high enough, or you just completely miss the ball (lmao me)

hinata would give you tips and pointers in between tosses, not wanting you to feel down about yourself or give up

after many many missed chances, you finally got a spike in

and it was a pretty damn good spike too

you felt ecstatic, but hinata seemed even happier than you

you could practically see the sparkle in his eyes

“oH MY GOD THAT WAS AMAZING!! YOU WERE LIKE WHOOSH AND THEN BAM! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!”

runs over to you and tackles you in a hug and give you a pat on the head, his eyes squinting into crescents as he gives you the biggest smile

you blush when he pats you on the head aww

every time you hit a really good spike he give you a little *pat pat*

and you LOVE it, it makes you feel all nice and warm inside

you use that as your motivation to hit every ball that suga sets as if your life depends on it

───

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