#I truly don’t think you’ll understand otherwise | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vxnuslogy · 11 months ago

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— retail therapy. ft sunday

— warnings: slight angst if you squint hard enough

— author's note: self-indulgent stellaron hunter sunday after playing the new tb quest. ~2.4k words.

“is this…” sunday gestures with his hands, “also part of our script?”

you let out a laugh. balancing firefly and kafka’s shopping bags in your hands, you only shook your head at the angel-like man with an amused smile on your lips.

“no, it is not.” kafka was browsing the dress sections with keen interest, blade was peering over silver wolf’s shoulder watching her as she played yet another video game, and firefly was looking over the rack of new hats. “but it’s a good change of pace. you all deserve to relax after such a hard mission.”

“i don’t think this really fits my criteria of relaxation, [name].” you only laugh at sunday’s sigh. offering him a small pat on the back and dragging him by his sleeve to where kafka was beckoning you over. “you’ll get used to it eventually. next time, we’ll do something that fits your criteria of relaxation.”

the silver haired man only shook his head. but deep down you knew he was enjoying himself – the wings behind his ears often betrayed him by openly showing what he actually felt. every now and then, they would flutter and puff up whenever silver wolf drags him to another section with new games or when he tries to deny kafka’s attempt at getting him a new shirt or coat (after his wings fluttered a bit too hard at this one coat kafka bought it immediately).

“what do you think?” you ask as you put down the bags that've been weighing down on your arms. “about us, i mean, are you adjusting well?”

you notice sunday’s hesitation, you always have when it comes to him – he often wonders how wise and knowledgeable you are to know how he felt. a hum left your lips as you sat down on one of the offered chairs at the shoe section while blade reached to the top shelf to get what firefly was pointing at.

“i…” he starts, voice just above whisper. “don’t know.”

another hum escapes your lips. scooting over to make space for him and patting the space, urging him to sit besides you. sunday does, though reluctantly, sit beside you as you watch silver wolf giggle at firefly’s struggle to walk in heels. blade’s hands hover over her figure as she stomps her way over to the shorter girl to pinch her cheeks to which she protested.

“they’re nice people.” you say, gaze never leaving them. “the galaxies may say otherwise, but they're truly the kindest people i have ever met.”

“i… apologize.”

you raise a brow at him. “what’s with the apology?”

“i have only ever thought of the five of you as bad people.” sunday admits with a heavy heart. eyes finding much entertainment on his gloves that you had gifted. “i… do not know how to act around you all, when i’ve only ever heard bad things about you. it feels wrong to suddenly be thrusted into your already tight knit group.”

you only hum in understanding. hand coming to caress the top of his head when you stood up when blade called you over.

“we understand, mr. sunday.” you gave him a small smile as you picked up the many shopping bags you had. “these sorts of things take time, just take it one step at a time.”

he only nods. and like the gentleman that he is, steals away the heavier bags in your hands with an awkward smile.

—

“do you miss the person you were before you joined?”

you wonder if blade has ever mentioned to sunday how you loved thought evoking questions like the one he had just asked. recently, the two have been paired up a lot for missions - you’re still on the fence on whether it's a good or bad thing, but you’re leaning more towards the former. you only gave a thoughtful hum as you spooned another scoop of ice cream into your mouth.

kafka had grown bored of the dresses and shoes and wanted to get something to eat. now here you were, outside a quaint little ice cream shop as blade orders for everyone - silver wolf and firefly hiding behind the man like two kids.

sunday was sitting in front of you, laughing silently after catching a glimpse of the two tables across from you being filled with your shopping bags. you laughed as well and when your eyes met his, sunday quickly averted his gaze towards his own cold treat.

“do i ever miss the person i was before i joined…” you echo his question. “sometimes, in the middle of the night whenever i’m feeling a bit too sentimental, i do.” a fond expression was probably present on your face as sunday hummed in acknowledgement. “i miss the comfort of my bed as i scrolled endlessly on my phone. or how a certain little creature in red would bring me tea and biscuits when i let time pass in my little workshop. i miss them every chance i get.”

yes, every chance you get, you reminisce over your past life. missing your father’s quick temper, your brother’s indifference, your mother’s absence; you missed them all, despite all their flaws and the bitterness that swam in your heart. and of course, how could you ever forget your little escapades in different planets with a seasoned adventurer and his vast knowledge of animation and travel or the little waddling of a conductor as they scold you nearly not making it back. you missed them all very dearly.

“what about you, mr. sunday? do you miss penacony?”

“would it be wrong of me… if i said no…?”

admittedly, that was the exact opposite of what you thought his answer would be.

the six of you were now in the car with you and blade driving (firefly suggested you all take two cars so you won’t have to be squeezed together in one). silver wolf was fast asleep at the back seat, using the many shopping bags as her makeshift pillows. you and sunday sat at the front, keeping a close eye on blade’s red car in front of you as you pondered what you would say next.

“i don’t think that’s the whole truth, but it’s not an entire lie either.” was your only response. from the corner of your eye, you see sunday take off his gloves and lay them on his lap. “would you like to talk about it, mr. sunday? i’m quite the exceptional listener you know.”

sunday laughed at your jesting and that made the breath you were unconsciously holding escape you.

“penacony, as beautiful as it was,” he fiddles with his fingers as his wings came to cover half his face - a habit you picked up on whenever he started to open up. “it was simply too much for me.”

staying silent and when sunday looked at you, you simply nod. urging him to continue.

“the flashy city lights, the ever echoing of upbeat music, to many, penacony is a paradise where nothing could go wrong,” sunday sags in his seat, “but i often wonder if it ever gets too much for them. even though i have lived my entire life in the land of festivities, i could not bring myself to enjoy the thrill and joy it offered.”

“no matter how many times i bury these feelings of guilt, they always resurface whenever…”

“whenever?” you slowly try to coax it out of him. like how a parent would to their child.

“they always resurface whenever… i find myself enjoying your company too much.” you try to hide your shock when you take a right turn. “is it truly alright for me to just leave all of penacony behind? as overwhelming it was, it offered a roof over my head. food on my table. a family.”

soft patters of rain as small droplets of water cascaded down the now slightly fogged up windows of your car. “would you like my personal opinion on this matter, mr. sunday?” the car skids to a stop as the traffic light glows red. sunday only nodded solemnly. “you have every right to not miss penacony.”

his gold eyes were furrowed in distraught. gaze boring into the side of your head as the car started moving again. “yes, penacony offered a roof over your head and food on your table, but everyone has that right. even us, stellaron hunters, the most wanted criminals across star systems, have the right to have a home. did penacony ever feel like home to you, mr. sunday?”

“no. not it has not.” sunday replies after a few moments of silence.

“just because a roof is over your head and food is served on your table doesn’t automatically make it a home.” your eyes hardened, grip on the steering wheel tightening ever so slightly. “a home is supposed to make you feel safe, not obligated to repay their so-called “kindness”. you don’t have to feel guilty for not wanting to come back to the place that had caused you pain.”

“and what of my sister, robin?” he suddenly counters. you knew from little snippets from kafka that robin was a bit of a sensitive topic with him. “am i really allowed to enjoy this new life of mine knowing that she’s still in the family’s clutches?” his voice hardened, but at the same time it quivered and broke. “what right do i have to this newfound happiness when she could be struggling? for aeon’s sake,” he messily pushes his hair away from his face. you try not to focus on the stray tears that fell from his eyes, “i’m her older brother, her protector. she should be the one here, spending time with you and enjoying the life she’s always wanted.”

“miss robin is destined for greatness and a happy life,” stopping at another traffic light, you look over to sunday, “but so are you. i do not know the pain and turmoil your adoptive father has made you go through, but you will never be free if you keep holding on to the past.”

“i don’t think being a stellaron hunter and a wanted criminal is what you call greatness.” sunday jokes with a low chuckle making you roll your eyes.

you trained your sight on the road again. “it’s not easy to break out of whatever gopher wood has taught you,” the way you spat his adoptive father’s name with such venom made sunday wonder if you had personally met him. “but if, theoretically, we had offered you to join us earlier and to sneak you out of penacony, miss robin would be the first person to urge you to take that chance. you are her older brother yes, and it's often the oldest’s job to protect the younger,” you pull up your car in the parking lot as blade, kafka, and firefly started taking the shopping bags out of the car. “but she is still your sister that wants what’s best for you, even if it means leaving penacony behind.”

the sight of blade, a man with a harsh exterior and few words, silently carry silver wolf with such care will always stir something inside of sunday. or how kafka would happily chat with firefly over the new clothes they got on today’s shopping list, promising to do a haul tomorrow morning after the older woman cooks everyone breakfast. but if there was something that pulled at his heart the most, it would be you.

you who kindly respected his space and unwillingness to talk or socialize with the other hunters when he had been first recruited. the same you who had made him the metal wings that was now attached to his lower back - created with so much care and attentiveness sunday felt unworthy of it. you who would always be the first one to look for him whenever you were going out and extending a hand for him to take.

“everyone deserves to be happy,” you say beside him as you drop him off at the door to his room. “and that includes you, mr. sunday.”

sunday had always been treated as someone who was above everything else, that was the first thing he was taught after all. he was destined for greatness, the key to the revival of his dead aeon. so he never truly knew how to act when someone treated him as an equal. someone neither above or below anyone.

“i’m not very good with words,” sunday scoffs, thinking otherwise. “so i often convey my sincerity and comfort through actions.”

sunday feels your hand slither to the back of his neck as you slowly pull him down to your height. forcing his beating heart to still when he looks into your eyes that swam with understanding and fondness when you press both of your foreheads together.

“you can enjoy your time here, with us. you’re allowed to let go of the past and miss your sister.” your thumb rubs soothing circles on his nape, sunday feels the hairs on his arms rise. “and if you still think otherwise, then that’s also fine. breaking free from the shackles of your past isn’t easy, but you shouldn’t give up.” sunday feels the way your words leave a warm ticklish feeling on his lips, he had to fight the urge to lean into your space even more. “we want you to be happy, we want you to be here with us. so we’ll teach you how to let go. until you can do it yourself.”

sunday has seen you do this to others; after you patch up blade after a nasty fight, when you welcome kafka home, when silver wolf comes to you after a nightmare and when firefly bares her heart out to you. he finally understands why the others stuck to you closely, they showed their appreciation for you in forms of physical affections.

involuntarily, his arms snakes around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer he feels you may decipher the way his heart beats your name. “may we stay like this for a while?” you only hum slowly when he lays his head on your shoulder. letting your comfort wash away all the guilt and frustration, even if it was just for a moment.

you catch a glimpse of kafka leaning at one of the dark walls with a knowing smile on her lips. rolling your eyes at the older woman, you bid sunday a good night with a small smile. knuckles brushing right under his eyes where phantom tears had fallen. in your mind, you can’t help but feel that your little idea of taking him shopping to brighten up his mood was a success.

#—stellaronhvnters.#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail headcanons #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail sunday #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #hsr headcanons #hsr x you #hsr sunday #sunday x you #sunday imagines #sunday x reader #sunday headcanons #( 🂡 ) – royal flush of stories .ᐟ

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 6 days ago

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Yandere Monster Child//

I’m not talking about an Eldritch being or Lycan grappling with their werewolf side. I’m talking about a real Monster Child. Outwardly just another typical darling little girl. Curious and outspoken with a bright disposition anyone at a glance wouldn’t bother to question otherwise. But this Monster Child is evil. Wicked. Totally twisted inside and a menace to all the normal functions of civilization. Because deep down something is just…not right.

“Ha, I hope when the rat poison kicks in they’ll be back with their family! Or better yet on their doorstep.”

They're just awful…and it’s not because of their childhood. They have two loving parents in an upper-middle-class home, in an inclusive neighborhood. They just opened their eyes one day and decided they adore other people’s pain.

“Honey, will you tell me what happened to the dog?”

“He…in…ba’thment!”

“...Why are they in the basement?”

“Cause dead!”

And unlike the other horrors centered around troubled kids, she doesn’t bother hiding it. Like the Monster Child she is, Lacy, doesn’t bother hiding it. Her parents are more than aware of the red flags she so clearly waves, it’s their reactions that truly beckon her. She doesn’t care if the old woman down the road wags her spotty finger and cusses her out. She just ignores it. That is until the old hag woman starts threatening to send her to a facility. She knows that without her parent’s consent that isn’t going to happen anytime soon…but that doesn’t stop the house at the end of the block from becoming vacant.

“Lacy…no one’s seen Mrs. Frock in a while would you know anything about that?”

“....Mason you know what the answer to your own question is. Please use your brain.”

“I told you not to call me that! I’m your father!”

“You’ll be dead if you keep screaming at me.”

“Mason! Please!”

That doesn’t really change when she meets you. Whether you’re a teacher, a neighbor, a new step-parent, or even just a regular in a place she frequents. When she latches on she doesn’t plan to let go and it doesn’t matter if you’re 60 kilos heavier than her.

You’re hers now.

“(Y/n).”

“Yes, Lacy?”

“Would you rather Wilson or Riley survive a fall down the stairs?”

“What?! I’d want them both to survive! Better yet no one falling down the steps at all!”

“Hm guess that means you want both. We’ll see what fate has to say.”

“Lacy please!”

Unlike other possessed children or incredibly jealous children, she’s not moved by your opinion of her. She doesn’t care. In fact, she relishes in the realization on your face as you realize her cruelty knows no bounds. Purposefully committing her acts of terror in plain sight. As stated before Lacy doesn’t care about who knows about what she does. It’s when you get in the way of her fun or her time with you+ that she has an issue.

“I didn’t want to hurt you Detective but I’ve been away from (Y/n) for long enough.”

“Well I can’t let you go until you help me understand why you were at–”

“NO. If I don’t see them within the hour, your partner’s remains will be found in an unflushed toilet.”

“Lacy–”

You’d think an eight-year-old a little over a meter would be easy to restrain but Lacy is a Monster Child. She’s tasted blood before and she doesn’t plan to stop anytime soon. And when you stand in the carnage she’s made in your name you wonder if she can love at all. If she’s only using you as an excuse to murder and maim.

“I love you the most! That’s why!”

Rules | Kofi | Commissions

#yandere x reader #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere x you #yandere #yanderes #platonic yandere x reader #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere ocs #platonic yandere oc #platonic oc #yandere original character #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere child #psychopath oc

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red-doll-face · 5 months ago

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You're much younger than Arthur. Maybe he doesn't mind as much as he thinks he does...

Low-High Honor Arthur Morgan x fem. reader who is younger than him.

Some head canons that ended up way too long 😭😔 hope you don't mind too much! I am 23 currently so these are really in the mind of reader being over 18 at least. At 23, Arthur is still way older than me so I guess it's just what does it for me! Includes both high and low honor versions. Thanks for reading!! and please let me know if you like them 😭

Warnings: NSFW 18+ only pls, Daddy Kink, Innocence Kink, Corruption Kink, nasty boy low honor arthur being toxic and manipulative (not too badly tho) its ok sweetie arthur is here to balance it out 😳💖💓🥹😳😭

:High Honor:

He had convinced himself that he was way too old for you and quite honestly shut that shit down the second he found his mind wandering to how pretty you were, your own natural beauty catching his eye. He can think you’re sweet and nice, that you understand him and go out of your way to talk to him. Doesn’t matter, he mentally smacks himself for thinking of you past anything like “mentor” or something. He might steal a glance once in a while but he feels bad about it every time. It’s just that, stolen, because in his mind, you don’t belong to him and you never will. He’s more than 10 years your senior, it makes him feel like a dirty old man. Arthur has a strange conflicted energy around you, like he wants to spend time with you but also doesn’t want to come off as creepy or too attached to something that can never be. If you make efforts to be around him, he does appreciate it and will stick around but he always cuts it sort of short.

Will subtly try to remind himself how young you are, referring to you as girl or kid to others or even to you. He has no idea you think that’s kinda hot. Will jokingly say you’re too young for certain things and thinks it’s cute if you pout and try to fight back against him. Holds alcohol out of your reach and clicks his tongue at you. When you point out the other young women in camp, he’s giving in but only a little, he still watches out for you. He’s protective in the sense that he does see you as someone who needs protecting. He can lie and say it's because of your age but really he just likes you and doesn’t want to admit it.

Anytime you try to get him to understand that you think of him as more than a vague father or brother figure, he’s missing the signs, straight over his head. Light jabs at his age, like calling him Mr. Morgan; make him roll his eyes a little bit but you can catch an endeared smile on his face. Truly a bit hard headed when it comes to noticing that you tease him with more than poking fun in mind. You have to find reasons to touch or kiss him on the cheek. He still might miss physical signs, real dumb dumb behavior. It’s impossible in his head that you would think of him like that.

If you can get him to open up, having emotionally charged conversations with him is a good way to get him to understand that you care about him at least. Arthur just likes to feel like you’re listening and that you like him enough to care about his thoughts and feelings. If you offer comfort to him in hard times, he’s lowkey simping for you…He can be very closed off, not all too willing to share his truths, especially with someone who may not even understand but if he can be himself around you and you don’t judge, he can forget his feelings about your youth for a moment.

It’s hard for him to initiate because he’s convinced that if anything were to happen between the both of you, it would be wrong or perverse in some way. If you tell him you like him, he might try to tell you otherwise, trying to get you to think differently of him. Suggests you find someone closer to your age or someone who hasn’t led a life like he has. It’s all really sad because he’s also insinuating that he’ll ruin your life in some way.

The first time he kisses you will be way too gentle, you’ll hardly call it a kiss. He thinks of himself as too rough for you so he holds back like 99% in an attempt to seem more like a gentleman. It takes you grabbing onto him and deepening your kiss for him to give you more. He’s gentle, hands on your cheeks, holding you like you’ll break if he squeezes too hard.

Expect a whole lot of “this ain’t right,” or “I’m too damn old for this,” at first. But once you get him to give in, there’s no going back. He gives you his all, no matter what. He does get a bit bashful making things official, especially when there's something to be said about it. John calling him something terrible for being with you like cradle robber or something puts a sour look on his face but he tries his best to power through it. “She ain’t a goddamn baby,” “She might as well be, how old are you again? Or did you lose count?” “Shut the hell up, John.” Hugs and kisses from you definitely make it worth it. He gets a bit used to it, letting things like that stop affecting him so much.

He thinks he doesn’t deserve you and some small part of him will always believe that you could still be better off with someone else but he gets greedier and greedier with you, the more you love on him, he doesn't want to even think of you with anyone else. He's still so confused that you think he is attractive at his age. He’ll show you pictures of him when he was young and he sort of expects you to say that he was more appealing back then. But you don’t; you just pet his face, his scratchy beard and his sun kissed skin. Arthur lets you see his soft smile when you say you love him right now, more than anything.

Taking your firsts might put a weird (not bad though) taste in his mouth. First kisses or virginity, he’s nervous he’ll come up short and not be what you're expecting. But his best is more than enough to make you happy. He wants to make your first experiences feel special and memorable, the last thing he wants is to put pressure on you, he just puts way too much pressure on himself. He ends up being just a little too gentle. He needs a lot of praise, a lot of egging on to get more confident. If you beg and plead for more, he can’t say no, he always gives you what you want. Getting him to be more “out there” is a little more difficult. He’s embarrassed to admit he might like when you playfully call him daddy or your old man. The guilt kind of turns him on but he has a hard time coming to terms with that. At his own pace, he’ll indulge more if you’re into it. You’re crossing some weird wires in his head, he swears. If you say it to him in the right context, he’s giving you a shocked look and a halfhearted scolding as he tries not to get turned on in the middle of what he’s doing. “You’re gonna be the death of me, girl,” makes you giggle at him.

:Low Honor:

He might also be somewhat against it but for different reasons. He thinks girls like you have high expectations and it annoys him. But if he thinks you’re pretty that’s what he thinks. He doesn't let anybody get too close so if he’s thinking about you as more, your age is not something that stops him from doing so. It does just take him some time to think about letting you close enough for anything more than his usual rude demeanor and standoffish personality.

The only way he'll know he likes you as a bit more than another thankless and ungrateful face in the crowd of people he begrudgingly provides for is if you thank him for bringing money or things back to camp. He gets a little quiet, trying to suss out ulterior motives but he thinks you’re quite adorable. Looks away and says it’s nothing. He’ll indulge you, doing things that are just for you, just to hear you say thank you again.

He teases you more, emphasizing how young you are, in a way that rubs him the right way. Calling you little girl, intimidating you with his size, or keeping you away from certain things like cigarettes. “These are for grown ups, sweetheart,” If you’re a brat around him, he likes a bit of brat taming. “Dunno, might need to take you over my knee if you’re gonna act like that,” has you gasping and stuttering out a clumsy response.

It’s easy to sway him into taking things further with you. He isn’t one for hanging around the camp, so close to everyone else anyway, he likes his alone time. Catching him when he’s by himself, smoking a cigarette, is a good time to get on his nerves enough to force his hand a little bit. Stand too close to him and run your fingers over the handle of his gun and ask if you can hold it, he’s so close to snapping. The look in his eye under the shadow of his hat makes you feel 5 degrees warmer. “You better quit playin’ games with me, girl. Not sure you know what you’re askin’ for,” Maybe not the best idea to defiantly ask him to show you.

Then you’re sat on his knee, he’s pressing his mouth into yours, sloppy kisses with no regard for whether you think it’s too much for you or not. He’s shoving his tongue into your mouth, one hand to steady you and the other groping your tits. He’s mostly trying to get you to be as noisy as possible.

He’s really not guilty at all. Maybe a little but he doesn’t let guilt affect his actions. It may be true that maybe you could be with someone better than him but if you’re with him, you know what you’re in for. You’re his girl and there isn’t anyone else for you if he’s your man. Arthur may not admit it but in the back of his head, there is a voice that whispers to him that one day you’ll leave him behind. He overcompensates for it, doing what he can to see you smile, rather reluctantly asking if you’re happy with him once in a while. If you ask why, he’s unclear, “Jus’… makin’ sure,” your enthusiastic yes, followed by a kiss on his cheek actually flatters him a little, rubbing his neck, a quiet ‘good’ is all he has to say.

If he gets shit for being with you, he brushes it off. He might get flack from some well meaning people, Hosea or Abigail might tell him to leave you alone, that he should know better. But he thinks they should know better too, Arthur has very little restraint. So if a young pretty thing wants to be his girl, he’s not saying no. Any notions of how guilty he should be don’t come from him. He may think he’s a sinner and a bad man but those things don’t stop him from wanting you. And Arthur always gets what he wants when he can help it.

Arthur has never given too much thought about what women think of how he looks. He certainly doesn’t think too much of himself and knows he isn’t exactly in his prime, looks wise at the very least. He’s not too confident about his looks or his body really, he’s more confident when it comes to his abilities and skills. So if you tell him you like the way he looks, he isn’t gonna argue, just pleasantly surprised if he happens to believe you. There’s a chance he thinks you're lying. He knows there’s something perhaps a bit off with you, most girls your age don’t give him a second glance but does it stroke his ego when you stare at him, bite your lip when he grabs his belt, pulling all of your attention to the size of his hands and his crotch.

If you’re softer about your affections for him, he’s happy to accept them too, you’re his little angel, but he has every intention to pull you down from heaven to make you his. You can start with soft touches over his face, rubbing up over his shoulders and chest but he’s quick to pull you deeper with him. His teeth nip softly at your lips, his hands roam all over you.

He's eager to take your firsts, in his twisted little head, he knows he can regulate what you think is normal. He doesn’t have to play gentle and sweet, he bites and sucks marks on you, slaps your ass pretty hard. Arthur’s happy to have himself be the man that ruins you for other men, he’s your first and your last.

Sorry but he’s kind of toxic, he likes the way you do things like kiss him, or touch him, take him in your mouth; but sometimes he puts on a little bit of an unimpressed face, not exactly bored or anything, just enough to see you try harder to please him. He always gives in; especially when he can tell you’re trying. His proud little smirk and affection are something you might have to work for. Your inexperience is the perfect opportunity to have you eager to make him happy.

Huge innocence kink, he loves to corrupt you, teach you about what a man does with a woman he likes. Even better if you have no clue, or you think babies come from kissing or something, god is he eager to fuck all of that up. He’s all for you calling him daddy too, the guilt or the imagery or whatever doesn’t do it for other people just makes it so much more appealing to him. Most of the time, he likes to keep your affairs private but once in a while, he’ll show out, just to show who you belong to. If people happen to overhear the racy things you two talk about and they give you a weird look, he just has a knowing smirk for the eavesdropper.

Can you tell that I think age gaps are hot? RDR let me fuck that middle aged man right neow!!! When will they let RDO be about dating Arthur Morgan??? 😔😔😔😔wish he was at least a fuckin stranger mission or something SIGHHHH anyway Thanks for reading and pls let me know if you liked it! Otherwise I'll feel like a freak LMAO

#so sorry this post may be too specific to my tastes but if you get it you get it lol #arthur morgan x reader #low honor arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #high honor arthur morgan #red writes #red dead redemption 2 community #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #high honor arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #low honor arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr #red dead redemption 2

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pinnedmother · 5 months ago

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How do you think Messmer deals with feeling jealous? Or when his partner is jealous?

Thanks for the request ♡ I did both.

Messmer's jealousy

He gets jealous extra easily, not even by anything to do with romance or flirting (he’d completely blow up then), but for your attention in general. He hates when you give more time to someone else when he’s right here; hates when you smile at them, when you laugh at their words, when you look them in the eye for too long.

Why, why, why every person in his life he loves more than the world itself always has to disperse their precious attention to other people? He feels empty, utterly abandoned and forgotten, even if you were lightheartedly conversing with someone for nothing more than a minute. It stings in his chest.

Despite being incredibly dramatic in his way of thinking, Messmer is still self aware enough to understand that he’s merely experiencing jealousy and that this emotion is dangerous if he would let it get the better of him. He tries to suppress it to the best of his ability as to not cause a scene. Still he’ll frown and stare daggers in you and the other person, hoping you’ll notice and mercifully absolve him of this sensation.

You’ll need to have empathy 60 the way he masterfully hides his feelings. He wants you to know, but also doesn’t. If his serpents in their attempts to help would try to get your attention themselves, he’d get silently mad at them and forcefully tug their slithering bodies away from you.

If you don’t notice him long enough, he’ll just leave as quietly as possible. Trying to be nonchalant about his departure as if he simply has other matters to attend. Internally, however, Messmer’s melting, and seething, and burning everything around him to a crisp.

Later he would seem colder than usual and more distant. Messmer craves your presence, but doesn’t want to seem desperate at the same time. He also needs you to show that you still care for him. It may be childish, but he truly does need this affirmation. He wants you to seek him out, ask what’s wrong, show him your warmth, and smile a more genuine smile than the one you showed to this other person. In exchange, he would redouble the affection you gave him.

However… If you were to commit such an unforgivable sin as to openly flirt or even romantically involve yourself with someone… Well, hopefully you didn’t forget that your lover is a genocidal war general, known for the purge brutal enough to be removed from history, because otherwise you’d be shocked and horrified to see your paramour burned and impaled on the highest spike there is. Messmer would do it; no remorse, no regrets, only cold rage. If both you and he even decide to continue after this mess, you’ll be the one to carry the blame in its entirety, he won’t hear any of it if you’d try to call upon his conscience. You’ll have to work exceptionally hard to gain Messmer’s trust once more, and no matter what you do it’ll never again be at its fullest. It was a scarring wound, one that cannot be forgotten nor forgiven.

Your jealousy

Messmer’s confused at first, not understanding a shift in your reactions and behavior. He would catch on at some point though, and will try to persuade you that there’s nothing to be jealous about: you are the only one he loves and he needs no other.

If it’s not enough, he would cater to your demands: sending people away, shortening the time of discussions, taking a more reserved and aloof demeanor or even holding your hand while addressing others. Whatever you’d want, really. He knows exactly how miserable it feels, so if he can ease it for you – he will.

Messmer secretly loves that you’re so possessive of him. He still wouldn’t make you jealous on purpose however, your comfort is far too important, but the feeling is pleasant.

#request #my writings #elden ring #elden ring headcanons #messmer the impaler #messmer x reader #messmer x tarnished #messmer

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princessbellecerise · 2 years ago

Text

With A Modern!Reader

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | How the House of the Dragon characters would react to a reader from our world

warnings | None

this is a work of fiction. i do not own these characters

divider by @princessbellecerise

Jacaerys Velaryon

Jace is surprisingly cautious. It’s not as if he’s afraid of you, you’re just so…different that it takes a while for him to even approach you

When he does, you may think he’s being hostile but really he’s just curious

He keeps his distance at first, but out of everyone he’s the first to warm up to you

He likes hearing about your world, taking walks with you and listening intensely

He thinks it’s fascinating, but more than anything Jace would be the one not afraid to truly introduce you to his world, taking you on tours, showing you around and even letting you pet his dragon while he watches you with a smile

It’s clear that the main difference between your worlds is the magic aspect, so while he’s fascinated with all your technology, you’re fascinated by his dragons and the fact that actual witches exist

Both concepts are very hard for the other to grasp, so you and Jace spend your time discussing and having fulfilling conversations, telling the other facts and details about where you’re from and enjoying every minute of it

Daemon Targaryen

Daemon is amused

He is the first to believe you when you say you’re not from his universe because my gods, it’s obvious from your clothes to your speech you obviously weren’t raised in this world

And man, he gets a kick out of watching you struggle with the social norms, often laughing and whisking you away when your mouth gets you in trouble more than once

He scoldes you and tells you that things are different where he lives, that the social customs require you to remain proper and not curse out every Lord that has something problematic to say

He’d teach you how to ‘behave’ while simultaneously encouraging you to be yourself for his own sake, because Daemon loves watching you start arguments and debates, trying to catch his people up with the modern terms you’re used to

Of course, it never works but he looks forward to it nevertheless because it makes the otherwise insufferable events that much more bearable

Lucerys Velaryon

Luke is very cautious at first. Even more so than his brother, because while you talk like you’re from more advanced times, Luke is still convinced that you’ll view and treat him the same as everyone else in his world does

It’s only when you happen to bring up the fact that you and your siblings have different dads is he really interested in what you have to say

And when you tell him that the rumors you’ve heard about him don’t matter, that nobody really cares about blood that much where you come from, will he really start to warm up to you

You’ll see a whole other side to Lucerys that no one has really seen before; he’ll open up to you and tell you all about his worries of possibly being a bastard

Likewise, you’d tell him that you relate to feeling out of place seeing as you’re not even from the world. You’re used to people gossiping about you as well and when it all becomes too much, you and Lucerys have a way of seeking comfort in one another. This caused you both to form a strong bond over your shared feelings

Aemond Targaryen

Aemond is confused

He’s perplexed, and at first he doesn’t like you because he’s never met someone that’s challenged him so much

From your clothes to your speech to your strange gadgets, everything about you is just so…weird. He doesn’t understand where you came from and why, but out of everyone he’d be the most willing to get you home

During this time, you both would more than likely bond in a sort of frenemie way

Aemond with his constant teasing of your lack of knowledge on how things worked in his world, and you because of his so called out-dated attitude

He’d be shocked when you completely disregard his status and talk to him like he’s just a regular person. You don’t see him as Prince Aemond, just the Aemond that’s slightly stuck-up; which you also never fail to remind him.

You’re just so casual with how you interact and joke with him. And over time, Aemond finds himself more and more attached to you. Because by gods, all he’s ever wanted was for someone to appreciate him for him, and not because of his title or standings in the world

And you being you, you don’t really care about any of that and he can’t begin to explain how grateful he is that the universe decided to send you to him, even growing to be sad and a little more hesitant when it’s time to send you home

Aegon Targaryen

Aegon is fascinated

Less so by you and more so of the world that you left behind. And even more so of the trinkets that somehow came over with you

In all his life, Aegon had never met someone that had things that he didn’t. After all—he was a prince and that meant he usually had the best of the best

But you? You have things he’d never even dreamed of having. Like glasses that block out the light (perfect for his hangovers) and medicine to also help with the aftermaths of his drinking

He’s so fascinated when the guards empty your bag, never once hesitating to pick up your strange stuff and demand to know what it does

Of course, you have to tell him to chill out a little bit and that his title doesn’t really matter to you because you’re not from his world

And Aegon is perplexed, and honestly slightly jealous that he can’t control you, nor can he compete with all the technology that you have

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Out of everyone, she is the most understanding of your situation

When you first arrive, Rhaenyra takes you under her wing and never once makes you feel like an outsider. She’s a little bit hesitant, sure, but it’s really not all that hard to believe you

She’ll listen to you and when you need help, she’s always there to offer her aid

With her around, it’s super easy to understand the world that you’ve landed into. After all, Rhaenyra is happy to show you the ropes herself and fill you in on all the ways you have to act in order to survive in her world

You quickly become grateful for her presence because it helps to soothe all of the rumors and questions people may ask about you. After all, she’s no stranger to them herself

And with one look from the princess/future Queen, people are bowing their heads and running off, leaving their intrusive words abandoned

#hotd #hotd x reader #hotd headcanon #house of the dragon #jacaerys valaryon x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #lucerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader

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cutenchips · 22 days ago

Text

Finding you, again

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

a/n : it’s my first time writing something ever and english isn’t my first language so be nice please. Advices are more than welcome !!

Idea from : @girlboo5689

summary : au coach!paige x player!azzi, see each other after a long time, background kiss

tw: self-homophobia

cw : 3,3k

Chapter 1 : Silence

Azzi POV :

The night is alive with celebration. The room is filled with screams, music, laughter—we’ve won the NCAA, and it feels unreal. Everyone is hyped, letting go after months of pressure.

Paige and I slip away from the crowd for a moment, just to breathe, to take in what we’ve just accomplished. We’ve had a bit too much to drink, but it’s okay. It’s our night. Paige looks at me with a smile. The type of smile you’ll die for. And for some reason, I feel like getting closer. I look at her deep blue eyes and her lips. She looked at my lips and kissed me with all my strength as if to engrave this low in her skin and i gave it back to her. Normally, I would never have thought it could happen, Paige has always been my friend and I never imagined it otherwise. But now it's different.

The next morning, it’s like nothing happened. I wake up with a killer headache and fragmented memories. Paige acts like nothing is different, just like me. We greet each other in the locker room, with an awkward smile, but there’s something different now. There’s space between us, and I don’t know how to explain it.

The days go by, and we still talk, but it’s not the same. It’s like something has shifted, like that kiss was never meant to happen. We never speak about it, never bring it up. I know she didn’t forget and she know i didnt either. But we pretended. And it eats at me. It bothers me because I feel like I’m the only one who notices the distance between us. We always talk to each other, but we look at each other less. We always cuddle, but they last less. We always laugh together, but more timidly. It was as if we were doing everything not to do THE thing that would remind us of that kiss. But the truth is that every gesture, every smile or every word she says reminds me of this kiss.

But above all I feel guilty, guilty for kissing a girl. It doesn't seem normal to me, I feel dirty to have kissed a girl but especially to have liked it.

Then the new season begins. Paige goes off to the WNBA, and I stay behind. I see her less now, and every time we cross paths, it stings a little more. She’s a star now, and I’m struggling to find my place. We pass each other, but we don’t really talk anymore. It’s strange, almost painful. We’ve lost each other, just like that, without ever truly understanding what happened between us.

I don’t know how it all ended, or if she thinks about it. But for me, that night, that kiss—it stays with me, tucked away in the back of my mind. One night, one kiss, and then nothing.

——————————————————-

Paige was already in the gym when the players arrived. She had barely slept. She had taken out the balloons, put away the studs, checked that everything was ready. Not because she needed it. Because she needed to take care of herself.

She knew that Azzi was coming back today.

She hadn't seen her for six years. Since the night they won the championship. Since this evening. Since this kiss.

She heard the door open at the back of the room. She didn't look up right away. She knew it was her. She would recognise his approach among a thousand. His rhythm. His energy. Even after all this time.

"Azzi Fudd," said a voice. The new recruit.

The girls applauded, some even shouted. Azzi smiled, greeted the team with a nod. She looked comfortable, relaxed. She took a few steps in the room. His eyes quickly swept the room. Then stopped on Paige.

They looked at each other.

One second.

Maybe two.

"Welcome," said Paige.

That was all.

No embrace. No "it's been a long time". No smile. Just that word.

Welcome.

Azzi nodded. A little stiff.

— Thank you, coach.

And then she turned to the rest of the team.

Training started as usual. Paige gave the instructions. The girls ran, shot, defended. She was watching everything. She was doing her job.

But she looked at her.

Azzi moved as before. Same style, same precision. Maybe a little more maturity in his choices. Less haste. She had improved. Even after all this time, even after his injury.

Paige made an effort not to stare at her for too long. She knew it was risky. But it was stronger than her.

Azzi didn't say anything either. She performed the exercises without asking questions. She was listening. She met Paige's eyes sometimes. But she didn't run away from him. She wasn't looking for him either.

It was just... neutral.

Too neutral.

After training, Paige went to her office. She closed the door. She sat on her chair and stayed there, without moving. Just staring at the wall in front of her.

She thought she was ready. She had repeated what she would say. She had prepared for this meeting. But now that Azzi was there, in the same room as her... she no longer knew how to breathe.

She got up, took a hundred steps. She stopped in front of the window and looked at the empty field.

The memories came back to him, one by one.

The cup in their hands. The screams. The music is too loud. The champagne. The jokes. The looks.

And this kiss.

Not a kiss of friendship. Not a kiss of victory. A real kiss. Slow. Passionate. True.

She remembered it very well.

And Azzi? Did she remember it too?

That evening, they had never talked about it.

They woke up with a headache. They had laughed. Pretend. Took the plane back as if nothing had happened.

And then, everything had changed.

Paige had decided to leave.

To get away from the field.

And now, six years later, Azzi was back.

In her team. Under her orders. In her life.

And Paige still had no answer.

The next day, Paige arrived at the gym even earlier.

She didn't want to meet Azzi in the locker room. Nor in the corridor.

She wanted to control space. Control what she could do.

The rest was already escaping her.

Azzi entered with the others. She was wearing her new jersey. It suited her well. Too good.

Paige looked away.

—We start with a balloon warm-up, she said.

She spoke faster than usual. More dry too.

But no one raised. Except maybe Azzi.

During the session, Azzi said nothing. She was following the rhythm. She was doing what she was asked. Too good. Too seriously.

As if she didn't want to leave any room for error.

Paige didn't know how to interpret it.

Was she doing that for herself? To prove something to her?

Or was she doing everything to forget her?

After training, they found themselves alone in the gym. The others were gone. Paige was picking up the pegs. Azzi rolled un her shoes. The silence locked them up.

— Do you need help? Azzi asked.

Paige freezes. She looked up.

That was the first sentence.

- No. Thank you.

Azzi nodded. She stayed up. Immobile.

Paige felt her heart beat too hard.

—You're doing well, she added.

She immediately regretted it. Too personal. Too soft.

Azzi barely smiled.

— I do what I can.

Silence again.

—Well, see you tomorrow, she said, retrieving her bag.

Paige signalled her head. She didn't answer anything.

And Azzi went out.

Paige couldn't concentrate.

Even at home, alone, she thought back to every look. Every gesture. Every word of Azzi.

It was like a loop. An obsession.

She had never talked about that night to anyone.

She had put all this in a box, deep in her. Locked.

But there, the box was shaking.

————————————

The days passed. Azzi was quickly in. The team loved her. She made perfect passes, screamed to motivate, smiled all the time.

Except with Paige.

Between them, it was polite.

But cold.

Too controlled.

And no one seemed to realise it.

One evening, Paige came as an old video.

The final match, six years ago. Their victory. Euphoria.

Azzi who throws herself into her arms. Paige who laughs.

Then, the party. The cup. The screams.

And the end.

The scene in the room. Briefly filmed by a friend. Just two seconds.

The two of them, alone in a corner. Glued. Too close. The beginning of a kiss. Then the screen goes black.

Paige closed the computer suddenly.

She had forgotten this video.

Or rather: she had pretended.

She got up, walked into her room. She could no longer breathe.

She grabbed her phone. She hesitated. Rested her.

It was midnight.

She didn't sleep.

——————————————

On Saturday, there was a friendly match.

Paige gave the instructions. Azzi was listening. Always attentive. Always straight.

But Paige felt her presence like a burn.

The game was going well. Azzi was shining.

For a moment, she marked a crazy basket. The whole team shouted. Paige let out a smile.

Azzi looked at her. Just a second.

Then she turned her head.

Paige felt her heart tighten.

After the game, Azzi came to see her.

— Did you see the shoot? She asked, like a proud teenager.

— Yes. Well done.

Break.

She didn't know what to answer.

"Good evening," said Azzi. And she walked away.

That evening, Paige went out for a walk. It was cold. She hadn't taken a coat.

She wanted to clear her head. But everything came back.

She remembered the taste. Breathless. From Azzi's gaze after.

She hadn't said anything. She got up, laughed. Suffled the discomfort.

And since then, silence.

She stopped at the edge of the sidewalk. Closed her eyes.

What if she told her about it?

What if she asked the question now?

But what can I say? “Do you remember?”

Too late. Too risky.

She came back.

She didn't write.

She didn't sleep either.

———————————————

On Monday, Azzi was not there.

Paige asked if anyone had heard from her. Nobody.

She felt something in her stomach. A touch of concern.

At the end of the session, she took out her phone. Nothing.

She hesitated. Then wrote to her:

"Is everything okay?"

An hour passed.

No answer.

Two hours.

Still nothing.

In the evening, she finally received a message.

"Yeah. I just don't feel well today. Nothing serious.”

No "coach". No smiley. Just this sentence.

Paige stayed in front of the screen.

She wanted to answer. But what? She wanted to know what was on her and chase it all at once. She didn't even want Azzi to be sad, it would break her heart.

She typed:

"Do you want to talk?"

Then erased.

She turned off her phone.

The next day, Azzi was there. Smiling. Pro. Perfect.

As if nothing had happened.

Paige felt like she was suffocating.

It was raining.

A fine rain, but it continues. She drew streaks on the windows of the gym.

Paige looked outside, arms crossed.

The training had been over for an hour. She was left alone. Unable to return.

Azzi was the first to leave today.

Not a look. Not a word.

Something was wrong.

She had known it for several days, but now... it was different. She would have liked to force her to look at her, to discuss. Shout at her everything she feels for her. But she couldn't.

Paige hated it. Her silence. Her blockage.

But it was stronger than her.

She had always been afraid to say things.

Especially those.

Her phone vibrated.

A message from Azzi.

"Can you come to the locker room? Now.”

Short. Sec.

She felt her heart speed up.

She hesitated. Then got up. She walked down the corridor. The sound of his footsteps echoed.

She opened the door.

Azzi was there. Sitting on a bench. Jogging. Soaked. Wet hair.

She got up suddenly when she saw her.

— Are you okay Azzi? She said panicked.

— It's not possible, Paige, she said in a low but hard tone.

Paige remained frozen.

— What do you mean?

— I can't take it anymore, Paige. You act as if nothing had happened. As if it were normal. As if I were normal.

Her voice trembled.

—But I can't! Do you understand?

She almost screamed the last words.

Paige wanted to get closer. But Azzi too back a step.

—You act like you're above all that. That you turned the page. That you can be a coach, professional, mature... I couldn't. I tried. But I can't forget. Not what we did. Not what I felt. Not what you triggered.

Paige felt her legs bend. She leaned against the wall.

—Azzi...

Her eyes were red. She was crying, but didn't stop.

— Do you know what you did? You left me there, with that, with this... this thing that I didn't even understand. I was 19 years old. I was confused. And you, you kissed me, you looked at me with eyes that.. in short.

Paige opened her mouth. Nothing came out..

— I thought I was a monster. A mistake. And I put your name on it. I thought to myself, "It's her. It's because of her. She's the one who made me like that.”

Paige felt her eyes burn.

— You're not a monster.

Azzi shook his head.

- I prayed for it to go. I slept with guys. I tried to be "normal". But there was always your face. Always this fucking kiss in my head.

Silence. Paige, seeing that Azzi was becoming calmer, took a step back.

— So what? Are you coming here to tell me that I have "diverted you from the right path"? That I infected you?

She had tearful eyes, her etchy voice holding back sobs. But she continued

— I didn't know what to do Azzi. I was lost too. Before you I didn't know I was... like that..

— You didn't tell me about it though. Not a message. Nothing.

— I thought you had forgotten Azzi! We had drunk so much that night! You won't blame me for not wanting to ruin our friendship, please.

Azzi looked at her. A look that pierced.

— Do you hate me?

— No, Paige replied.

The phrase echoed in the locker room.

Azzi felt all the air coming out of her lungs. She was calm and assimilated the conversation.

— I'm sorry. Maybe I'm not normal. Maybe I should just stop everything. Forget it. Forget you.

She stopped, catching her breath.

— But it's hard to forget the first person who made you feel … alive.

Azzi began to step back to leave. But Paige grabbed her gently to hug her.

— I don't want to forget you Azzi, she put her head in his neck.

Azzi enjoyed this hug the longest she took, sniffing Paige's perfume.

— Neither do I, I need to know who I want to be Paige, she said calmly.

That evening, Paige went home, her body tired, her mind confused. She went to bed without even eating, letting herself be invaded by solitude. At night, it was dark and silent.

She fell asleep thinking about Azzi. To all that had not been said. To the pain in Azzi's voice when she screamed at her. That was the truth. Azzi was broken, and it was largely because of what they had been through together.

Paige closed her eyes, but the images of that night, six years ago, kept coming back. She remembered the kiss, the taste of champagne, the laughter, Azzi's look, the moment when their lips had grossed, hesitant, but sincere.

She woke up with a start in the middle of the night, her hands trembling, her heart beating loudly. She sat in her bed, short of breath. The silence was heavy, almost suffocating. She wiped a tear that had slipped on her cheek.

The next morning, she arrived at the gym earlier than usual. She felt that if she arrived early, maybe everything would go back to normal. But when she walked through the door, she immediately realised that nothing would ever be the same.

—————————————

Azzi was still not there.

One week.

Seven days without Azzi.

Seven workouts where Paige was pretending.

Where the girls looked down. Where no one asked questions. But everyone knew.

Paige felt it. That it slipped. That it was going crazy. The team was no longer the same without her.

And neither does she.

Every night, she hesitated to call her. To write to her.

But she did nothing. As usual.

Until that evening.

She closed the gym, threw her keys in her bag and got into her car. No hesitation this time. She knew the address. She knew the floor. She still had that damn memory of Azzi's smile in this salon, one evening, when they had dyed their hair.

She ring.

Nothing.

She still ring.

And then the door opened.

Azzi was there. The hair tied to the snatch. An old sweater. Tired eyes. But beautiful. Always.

— What are you doing there? She asked, in a harsh tone.

Paige swallowed her pride.

—I can't go on like this, Azzi.

Silence.

—I didn't come to talk about us, okay? I came because you have a team. You have games to play. You have a fucking talent, and you're not going to ruin everything because of me.

Azzi looked up at the sky.

— Aren't you tired of playing the heroic coach?

She inhaled hard.

—Come back, Azzi. Please. Let all this collapse. You're better than that. You're stronger than that.

Azzi stared at her. A long time.

— You have had so many trials in your career, you have sacrificed so many things. You can't give up now. I beg you do what you want, tell me what I can do to help you no matter but in a week you have to be ready for the game. It's not P who asks you but coach Paige.

Paige leaved.

Azzi went home. Not knowing what to do she messaged KK.

"Hey KK "

" What's up? "

"need your advice, can you come to the house? "

" Omw "

When KK arrived Azzi directly took refuge in her arms.

— Wow I didn't know you were so happy to see me. She laughed.

—Well tell me what's going on Azz.

— It's Paige.

KK was there at the party and saw the kiss of the two girls. She was friends with the two girls and she could see the impact of this situation on her friends. But none of them really talked about it. Every time she asked Azzi how their relationship was going she always answered "normal". She knew that something was wrong between them but she had set herself as a rule not to talk to one of them before they do.

— I think I'm a lesbian.

A silence. Then KK burst out laughing. Not a mocking laugh, but one of those that defuse the tension.

— Azzi, girl. I've known it for six years. Did you forget that I saw you with Paige Bueckers at the time?

Azzi felt the pressure drop suddenly. She burst into a nervous laugh, tears in her eyes.

— I'm serious, KK.

— And me too. Girl, do you think I don't love you? Do you think that's what changes anything? You are Azzi, my best friend. If you love girls, if you love Paige... then you love Paige. And it's beautiful.

— But it doesn't seem right.

Azzi looked down. KK put a hand on her shoulder.

— Oh that's why you... OK I got it. You're just scared because you grew up in a world that never told you it was ok. But I tell you, me: it's okay. You have the right to love. You have the right to be happy.

Azzi bit her lip.

— I always thought I was different. That I was broken.

— You're not. replied KK, with all the sweetness in the world. — You just took a while to choose yourself. And now, you have to decide if you want to love freely or continue to punish yourself.

Azzi began to think then after a few minutes of silence...

— We're going to train I have a game Sunday and I have to be ready.

#pazzi fics #pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers

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urrmomzfavorite · 2 months ago

Text

PAC: YOUR Aura

✨💖 Heyyy cuties! 💖✨ Don’t be shy, take a little peek at my other posts—you know you wanna!

Pile One: You are a magnificent sun, a bright light shining in every room you enter. Yes, you are! People stare a lot at you, but you don’t notice since you’re in your own world. It’s hard for you not to command attention. I don’t think you’re aware of the magnetism you exude. Stop selling yourself short and please recognize who you are. You are a phoenix, constantly rising from its ashes—an eternal fire, an eternal spark. You’re downplaying yourself, and I need you to go to the mirror, actually look at yourself, admire your beauty, listen to your own voice, and be kind to yourself. Give yourself some grace. Self-care is important for you to keep up, Pile One; otherwise, you get drained by all the people pulling on your energy. Alone time is necessary. Just know that you are the son/daughter of Ra—you will rise again and again and again because you will never stop shining, no matter how hard you try to hide. It’s time for you to step into the spotlight.

✨💖 Heyyy cuties! 💖✨ Don’t be shy, take a little peek at my other posts—you know you wanna!

Pile Two: Pile Two, you are oozing confidence. You are sensual, delectable, magnetic—a lot of people want to own you, tame you, make you a novelty caged in a gold prison. It’s truly odd how people are attracted to your power but only under the guise of overpowering it. They’re silly souls who get lost in your shadow, trying to find a way to chain you. They don’t understand that you can’t imprison a free spirit. I encourage you to bask in your darkness and let it consume you. You are a storm entering people’s lives; wherever you go, somehow people’s truths are revealed, nasty or not. You trigger lots of souls without even noticing, but it doesn’t matter—this isn’t why you’re here. Your path is unique in itself. Follow your intuition, and you’ll find your purpose.

✨💖 Heyyy cuties! 💖✨ Don’t be shy, take a little peek at my other posts—you know you wanna!

Pile Three: Pile Three, I’m getting major Klaus from The Umbrella Academy vibes. LOL, I fucking love that guy. You are a leader—people want to follow you, they stop to hear you, they ask for your opinion. Does it get tiring? You naturally seem to sit in a position of authority without even noticing. It’s a lot of King of Wands energy. People admire your vision, your ideas, because they know you’ll go far, and they want to be able to tell others they were part of your journey. Riding off your success? Crazy. Anyway, you have a lot of influence; you just need to get out of your head. Believe in yourself and confront your fears. Only then will you have a better concept of your true self. Random note, but a lot of people have crushes on you. A LOT.

✨💖 Heyyy cuties! 💖✨ Don’t be shy, take a little peek at my other posts—you know you wanna!

#tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #astrology #spiritual journey

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regretisstoredintheme · 1 month ago

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Hey! I noticed your requests are closed, but I wanted to send this in (otherwise I’ll forget hehe, so please take your time and respond to it when you are free again! I’m not the anon who asked for a reader that sleeps a lot, but I relate to it deeply, (my longest was 23 hours straight!) what got me thinking about that scenario (specially Donnie and Leo) is that you implied that they would do something to reader if they realized they were trying g to avoid them by sleeping (and honestly mood) what do you think it would be the worst they could do do a reader that snapped at them if they didn’t let them sleep? I don’t mean snap lightly, I mean dont-care-of-the-consequences-if-dying-is-on-the-table-so-be-it-then-im-letting-out-everything-i-wanted-to-tell-you-psychopath-I-hate-you-so-much-this-isnt-love-I’ll-bite-if-you-come-near-you-make-me-sick-let-me-sleep-kinda of snap? Honestly I’ve been waiting for a reader scenario where they just snap. Don’t care of the consequences whatsoever and let’s outbeveything they have endured, they are just fed up, you know?

Anyways, if you aren’t up to write it I understand it! Just wanted to see the kind of reaction and what length they(turtles) can endure from “reality” breaking over and reader finally saying how f up what they are doing

I don’t even know if you remember this ask, but I still think it’s really interesting!!! The only reason I didn’t end up writing for this one was because I wanted to give a oneshot in response, but I stressed myself out too much abt it 😔😔 anyway! I figured if I’m cleaning out my inbox, I should at least give it a try!

The hcs they’re talking about is this one!

Warning: obsessive behavior, manipulation, yandere aspects, evil evil evil

Donnie and Leo definitely have one thing in common— their “I can fix it” mentality.

You hate him, you say? Could never forgive him, you say? Think he’s the scum of the earth? Don’t worry, Leo’s not gonna let you think that way. He’ll twist this back into the shape he wants, easy peasy. His main goal is to make you feel bad. Seriously bad. Hes apologizing, on his knees, waiting for you to come back to him. Sure, the door’s still locked, but what does that matter? He’s so sorry, can’t you tell? Come back to him, let him take care of you again, don’t think anymore… surely he won’t starve you this time!

“You think I wanted to do this to you? All I’ve ever done is care for you, I made a mistake! Please, sweetheart..”

Your words sting, it stings harder than your silence, Donnie realizes. Maybe it was better when you were quiet, then you wouldn’t hurt him so much with your words. You truly hate him, don’t you? Fine. He’ll let you sleep. And sleep. And sleep. That is, until he comes up with a solution. You’re a lot nicer to look at when your face isn’t contorted in anger, he thinks, remembering a time when you didn’t know how twisted he was. In that moment— his solution appears. Just as he made a cure for your sleepiness, he cured your hate, too. When you wake up, you’ll have no memory of this.

“Rise and shine, dove. Who am I? Don’t you remember? We’re partners!”

#rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #leo x reader #regrettable writing #tmnt #tmnt x reader #leonardo x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #donatello x reader #rise donatello x reader #Donnie X reader #yandere rottmnt #yandere donatello #yandere leonardo #yandere turtles

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silassinclair · 10 months ago

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Would your ocs still love me if I was a worm?

LMAO now this is the question we all’ve been wanting an answer to.

Masterlist Here!!

Would the Yanderes Still Love You if You Were a Worm?

Maddox Graves

“Maddox?”

Said outlaw turns to face you when he hears you call out his name so meekly. Why do you look so sad?

“Yeah princess? What’s goin’ on?”

He notices your downcast expression and can’t help but feel worried. The outlaw pulls you into an embrace from behind and rests his chin on your shoulder. Rough hands move up and down your waist sensually.

“I have a question…” You say nervously.

“No need to be shy round’ me sweetheart. You can ask me anythin’. We been together long enough for there to be no secrets kept between us alright?”

Sighing deeply you finally ask.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

…

“What kind of barkin’ at the knot question is that?”

That translates to “What kind of useless question is that?”

Anyways he’s confused. You’re not a worm and you never will be so why do you even ask?

“Maddox just answer the question! Will you still love me? Yes or no?” You whine and grip on his sleeve.

You seem pretty serious about this question huh?

Perfect opportunity to fuck with you.

The outlaw smirks beneath his bandana facial covering.

“I’d use you as bait for the fishes.”

Dante Verona

You’re scrolling on your phone when you come across a trend online. Apparently partners are asking their partners if they would still love them if they were a worm.

You’re single but you do know a certain ghost that haunts your house that has an obvious obsession with you.

So let’s ask him!

“Dante?” You call out. And seconds later his masked, ghostly apparition phases into the room from one of the walls.

“Yes amore? What is it?” He asks sweetly. He loves it when you call for him. Your voice saying every syllable of his name is heaven sent.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” You ask straightforwardly.

Dante is frozen where he floats.

What kind of question is that?

Is this a test of loyalty?

Where did this some from?

Dante is over analyzing so hard. This must be some sort of mental exercise.

“Uhm…” Dante hesitates for a moment. “Do you ask me this question because you are insecure about your appearance and that you have to compare yourself to a measly worm to see if I truly love you no matter your appearance?”

Dante whimpers as he pulls you into a hug. He thinks he’s comforting you but instead you feel like someone just wrapped you in a straight jacket.

“You’re my beautiful rare gem amore! My one in a billion, the apple of my eye! Why if you were a worm I would have you live a wormy life of luxury. But what I do not understand is that you find yourself ugly! Nonsense love you are stunning. You blind me with your beauty! There is no need for silly questions like this because your beauty is like no other.”

You want to interrupt his rambling but it’s just so entertaining to hear him go on about how gorgeous you are even if you were a worm.

“Do not be insecure about your appearance my love. I would love you no matter what.”

Viktor Markov

The silence between you and Viktor was awkward. He always does this. He just stares at you while lying on the bed in your clinic while you work on your files. You wish he could go somewhere else but he always has an excuse on why he has to watch you 24/7.

Wishing to break the silence you decide to ask a popular question you saw online. But you and Viktor aren’t lovers, far from it in your opinion. He thinks otherwise but you don’t know that…

Whatever, you’ll ask him the question. Besides, you’re curious as to what he’ll say.

“Hey Viktor?” You ask, still working. However Viktor perks up slightly at you finally initiating a discussion.

“Hm?” He hums lowly.

“Would you still love me if I were a worm?”

…

silence

…

“Yes.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oc x reader #x reader #yandere oc #obsession #maddox graves #dante verona #viktor markov #yandere oneshot #request #silassinclair

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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 4 months ago

Text

Playing for Keeps | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Chapter 1

Next Chapter →

Starting your seventh year at Hogwarts should be exciting, but transferring from Beauxbatons turns out to be more challenging than you anticipated—especially with Sebastian Sallow, the sharp-tongued school heartthrob, going out of his way to make things difficult. But unlike most, you refuse to back down. When he crosses a line, you push back just as hard, earning his respect and capturing his attention in ways he struggles to admit. But when a bet with Sebastian’s rival, Leander Prewett, comes to light, Sebastian must choose between protecting his pride or fighting to rebuild trust with the one person who’s ever truly challenged him.

Words: ~6,800

Tags: Modern AU, Reader Insert, Seventh Year, Female MC, No Y/N, Slytherin MC, Enemies to Lovers, Trope-y, Slow Burn, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Coming of Age, Plus-Sized Protagonist, Body Image, High School Drama

The rhythmic clatter of the train against the tracks filled the small compartment as you gazed out the window, watching the rolling Scottish hills blur past. You couldn’t help but feel like you were drifting through a dream—one both familiar and completely foreign. The Hogwarts Express, with its polished wood interiors and the faint scent of sweets from the trolley somewhere down the corridor, was a stark contrast to the sleek, airy carriages of the Beauxbatons carriages you’d grown used to.

“Still daydreaming, Chouette?” Imelda Reyes smirked, kicking your shin lightly under the small table between you.

You snapped out of your thoughts, turning your attention back to her. “Not daydreaming,” you said, though the heat rising to your cheeks probably said otherwise. “Just thinking.”

“About how different you look in those robes, maybe?” she teased, gesturing to your Hogwarts attire. Unlike hers, crisp and proudly adorned with green and silver, yours lacked a house tie and emblem, leaving you looking oddly plain. “Don’t worry; they’ll sort you soon enough. Though if you don’t end up in Slytherin with me, I might disown you.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. Imelda hadn’t changed. Her sharp tongue was as much her armor as it was her way of showing affection. “They didn’t have houses at Beauxbatons,” you reminded her, smoothing the fabric of your robe self-consciously. “Sorting is new.”

Imelda shrugged. “He's just a nosy hat. You’ll be fine. Though I’ll admit, it’s going to be strange not knowing where you’ll sit in the Great Hall until after the feast. No matter what happens, at least we've got this first night together!”

You hummed in response, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. The idea of being paraded in front of an entire school while a magical hat decided your fate wasn’t exactly comforting. Then again, neither was uprooting your life for the second time in less than a decade.

Not that the move back to Scotland had been a choice.

Your grandmother’s health had been declining for months, and with your grandfather gone, your mother had insisted on returning home to care for her. It wasn’t that you didn’t understand—family came first, always—but it didn’t make the transition any easier.

You had grown up in Scotland but moved to France at ten years old to attend Beauxbatons. Back then, the language, the culture, the people—they had all been a steep adjustment, but in truth, they had molded you into who you were. Beauxbatons had become home, the place where you found your footing. Now, at eighteen, just as you were preparing to finish your final year, you were being uprooted again, starting over in a country that was both familiar and foreign.

Imelda studied you for a moment, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she leaned back in her seat. “You're so quiet, this isn’t like you,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “Normally, you’re the type to run headfirst into things… what gives?”

You hesitated, glancing down at your hands. “I don’t know,” you mumbled, though that wasn’t entirely true. “It’s just… a lot. New school, new people, everything being different. What if I don’t fit in?”

Imelda snorted, rolling her eyes as if the thought were utterly absurd. “Oh, please. You’ll be fine. Half the idiots at Hogwarts will be tripping over themselves to talk to you once they hear that half-French, half-Scottish accent of yours. And the other half will be too busy being jealous.”

You tried to laugh, but the sound came out more nervous than anything. “I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

“It is,” she insisted, her grin turning smug. “And besides, you’ve got me.”

You gave her a faint smile. “Thanks, Mel.”

She waved a hand, brushing off the sentiment with a casual flick of her wrist. “Don’t get sappy on me now, Chouette. You’re going to be fine.”

But as her words settled in the air between you, your thoughts drifted. Imelda’s confidence in you was comforting, sure—but it also felt so far from the truth you were carrying inside. Because while she saw someone bold and daring, right now you felt the opposite.

The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels began to slow, and you felt a slight jolt as the Hogwarts Express started its final approach to the station. Outside the window, the landscape shifted, the rolling hills giving way to a darkened platform illuminated by soft, golden lanterns. Students began gathering their things, voices rising in excitement as they peered out into the cool evening air.

Imelda leaned over, her sharp eyes scanning the platform with a familiar confidence. “Here we go,” she said, nudging you with her elbow.

The train hissed to a stop, steam billowing into the night as the chatter inside the compartments swelled. You clutched the strap of your bag tightly, your pulse quickening as Imelda stood, gesturing for you to follow her. The aisle was a chaos of students jostling to disembark, and you found yourself swept up in the tide as Imelda led the way with ease.

When you stepped off the train, the chill of the Scottish air hit you instantly, sharp and bracing against your skin. The platform was alive with movement, students reuniting with friends after the summer, calling out to one another over the clamor of luggage being hauled off the train. Lanterns cast a warm glow over the cobblestones, and in the distance, you could see the faint silhouettes of carriages waiting to carry students up to the castle.

“First years, over here! First years, this way!” a booming voice called, and your head turned to see a figure waving a lantern high above the crowd. A group of wide-eyed first years shuffled nervously in his direction, their excitement palpable.

“Come on,” Imelda said, grabbing your arm to pull you along. “Our carriages are this way. Stick close, or you’ll end up in the lake with the first years.”

You followed Imelda closely, gripping the strap of your bag as your eyes darted around, taking everything in. The sound of hooves echoed faintly in the distance, and when you glanced up the path, you caught sight of the carriages waiting to bring students to the castle. They were drawn by strange, skeletal creatures with leathery wings—Thestrals, you realized with a start.

“Are those—?” you began, but before you could finish, a shout interrupted you.

“Imelda!”

Two boys waved from further up the platform, their voices cutting through the bustle around you. Your eyes were drawn to them immediately. The first was a red-haired boy with an easy, infectious grin that seemed to light up his face. Beside him stood a taller, blonde-haired boy, his striking features framed by an air of quiet composure. Their robes gave away their houses—red and gold for the cheerful one, green and silver for the reserved one. Gryffindor and Slytherin, you realized.

“Of course,” Imelda chuckled good-naturedly before raising her hand in a wave. “Come on,” she said to you.

You trailed behind her as she strode confidently toward the pair, your gaze flicking between them. The redheaded boy beamed as you approached.

“Reyes! Great to see you!” he called out, his grin wide and his green eyes alight with curiosity as they landed on you. “And who’s this?” He extended a freckled hand toward you, his energy practically buzzing with warmth. “Garreth Weasley, at your service.”

You hesitated for half a second before taking his hand. “Erm, hi,” you said, your voice a little unsure as you introduced yourself.

Imelda crossed her arms and smirked. “This is Hogwarts newest Seventh Year. You can call her Chouette,” she announced with a pointed look in your direction.

You felt your face heat instantly. “Imelda!”

Garreth perked up at this, a delighted grin spreading across his face. “Chouette? That’s French, isn’t it?”

“For ‘owl,’ yes,” you confirmed, your tone edged with mild bitterness.

Garreth chuckled, clearly amused, but it was the taller boy, the one with pale blonde hair and an unreadable expression, who spoke next. “Well,” he said smoothly, his voice low and measured. “I'm Ominis Gaunt. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chouette.”

The way he pronounced it was flawless, as though he’d been saying it his entire life. You blinked, caught off guard by the effortless precision. “Thank you, you too,” you said cautiously, unsure of what else to add as a flicker of recognition lit in your mind.

Gaunt. The name wasn’t just uncommon—it carried a certain weight, steeped in the histories of old wizarding families, and the implications lingered, leaving you hesitant as you glanced at him again.

Before you could dwell on it, Imelda’s voice cut through your thoughts. “Don’t look so worried,” she said breezily, elbowing you in the side. “Ominis isn’t nearly as scary as his last name makes him sound.”

Ominis’s lips twitched faintly, though whether it was amusement or irritation, you couldn’t tell. “Thank you, Reyes,” he said dryly, “for the glowing endorsement.”

Imelda smirked. “Anytime.”

Garreth grinned. “Ominis is harmless. He just looks intimidating because he refuses to smile properly.”

Ominis shot him a pointed look, but Garreth only laughed. The banter between them was easy, and you found yourself relaxing slightly, even as your nerves lingered.

“Come on,” Imelda said, jerking her head toward the carriages. “If we stand here any longer, all the good ones will be taken. We’ll get stuck riding with a pack of loudmouth second-years.”

You followed Imelda down the path, the sound of students bustling and calling out to one another echoing across the platform. The Thestrals loomed closer, their frames almost ethereal in the glow of the lanterns. You hesitated briefly before climbing into the carriage after her, settling onto the bench beside her while Garreth and Ominis took the opposite seats. The wood creaked faintly under the weight, and with a slight jolt, the Thestrals began to move.

As the carriage rolled forward, Imelda leaned casually out of the carriage, her hand raised in a sharp wave toward someone in the distance. “Samantha!” she called out, her voice carrying easily. “Don’t forget—we’re sitting together for Herbology this year!”

Further along the path, Garreth grinned and shouted something indecipherable to a cluster of students by another carriage. One of them—a freckled Gryffindor girl with tawny-brown hair—giggled and waved back. “That’s Cressida,” Garreth explained with a cheeky glance your way. “My girlfriend, and a Charm’s genius. I’d be lost without her.”

Ominis, though quieter, acknowledged almost every passing group with a polite nod or a brief exchange. At one point, you caught him waving to a dark-haired boy holding a stack of books balanced precariously in his arms. “Amit Thakkar,” Imelda muttered under her breath, catching your questioning look. “Smartest guy in school.”

You sat back, watching the interactions unfold, the warmth and familiarity in every exchange. Imelda, Garreth, and Ominis were like threads in a tightly woven tapestry, seamlessly connected to everyone around them. The ease with which they navigated the chaos made you painfully aware of just how out of place you felt.

At Beauxbatons, you’d had your own circle of friends—people who knew your quirks and shared your jokes, who had seen you at your best and your worst. Now, all of that felt so far away, like another life entirely. You wrapped your fingers around the strap of your bag, gripping it tightly as the ache of longing settled in your chest.

“Chouette?” Imelda’s voice broke through your thoughts, her sharp eyes studying you. “You good?”

You blinked, forcing a small smile. “Yeah, just… taking it all in.”

She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but didn’t press further. Instead, she leaned back and crossed her arms, smirking as she turned to Garreth. “Bet all you Gryffindors are going to pout when she's sorted into Slytherin with Ominis and I."

Garreth snorted, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Please. You really think the hat’s going to let you have her? Gryffindor’s clearly where she belongs.”

“Clearly?” Ominis interjected, one pale brow arching delicately. “The hat doesn’t favor reckless overconfidence, Weasley.”

Garreth grinned. “Speaking of reckles overconfidence, I'm sure Sallow is already up to no good and classes haven't even started."

“I don’t know what’s more concerning,” Ominis muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, “that you think he’s already causing trouble, or that you sound impressed.”

Garreth shrugged. “If you don’t admire a little chaos, Ominis, what’s the point?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at their bickering, though the unfamiliar name snagged in your mind. “Sallow?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

“Sebastian Sallow,” Imelda said with a roll of her eyes. “Slytherin's star Beater, eternal troublemaker, and Hogwarts’ most persistent heartbreak. Next to Leander Prewett, that is.”

“Persistent is putting it kindly,” Ominis muttered. “He’s my oldest friend, but even I’d describe him as… relentless. If there’s trouble to be found, he’ll find it.”

“And probably make it worse,” Imelda added, smirking.

Garreth chimed in, grinning. “He’s also at the top of our Defense Against the Dark Arts class. As much as it pains me to admit it, he’s annoyingly talented.”

Imelda hummed thoughtfully. “Honestly, he’s a lot like you—except dialed up to eleven.”

You blinked, taken aback by the comment. “Like me?”

“Well, sure,” Imelda said with a shrug, her tone casual but knowing. “Sharp. Driven. Bold. Stubborn. Always ready to throw yourself into something headfirst.”

“Usually without thinking, in Sebastian's case," Ominis interjected dryly, though there was no malice in his tone.

You hesitated, their words sinking in. Confidence. Boldness. Those were the things people always said about you, the qualities they seemed to admire. But underneath it all, you weren’t sure how much of it was real and how much was just a well-practiced act.

Still, you managed a smile, brushing the thought aside. “So… troublemaker, charmer, and duelling prodigy. Got it. Should I be worried?”

“Yes,” they all said in unison.

You shook your head, suppressing a laugh, though the image of this mysterious Sebastian Sallow stuck with you. Still, your curiosity shifted back to the matter at hand. “What exactly does the Sorting Hat look for?” you asked, glancing between the three of them.

Ominis’s expression softened slightly, his thoughtful demeanor returning. “It depends. Qualities, values, ambitions… It’s not just about who you are now—it’s about who you have the potential to become.”

“And sometimes,” Imelda added with a shrug, “it just throws you somewhere unexpected to see if you’ll sink or swim.”

“Comforting,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Well, here’s hoping the hat knows what it’s doing,"

“It does,” Ominis said, his voice cutting through the chatter. His pale gaze was steady. “The Sorting Hat has been doing this for centuries. It doesn’t get it wrong.”

His words carried a finality that left little room for argument, and while they didn’t exactly ease your nerves, you found them oddly reassuring.

The carriage slowed to a stop, jolting slightly as the Thestrals came to rest. The castle loomed above you, its towers piercing the darkening sky and its warm, glowing windows casting light across the grounds. Students were already filing toward the massive oak doors in groups, their chatter filling the cool evening air.

Imelda hopped out of the carriage first, her steps confident as always, and you followed closely behind, clutching your bag.

Garreth offered you a cheerful grin as he stepped down after Ominis, his hair catching the glow of the lanterns. “Well, looks like this is where we part ways,” he said, his gaze shifting toward a small group of Gryffindors gathered nearby. One of the girls—Cressida, you realized—waved at him, and he waved back with easy enthusiasm before turning to you.

“Good luck settling in, Chouette,” Garreth said, his grin widening. “And remember—Gryffindor’s the obvious choice.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his cheerful energy. “Thanks, Garreth. I’ll see you around.”

“Count on it,” he replied with a wink, then jogged off toward his friends, sliding seamlessly into their group.

Your gaze lingered for a moment, watching the way the Gryffindors welcomed him. Their laughter was infectious, their camaraderie easy. Among them was a tall boy with dark red hair and an effortlessly confident demeanor. He stood slightly apart, twirling a wand idly between his fingers as he spoke. There was something about the way he carried himself—relaxed but assured—that made it hard to look away.

Imelda’s sharp snort broke your reverie. Looping her arm through yours, she tugged you along. “Don’t let Weasley fool you. Slytherin is the best option.”

You glanced back over your shoulder one last time, your eyes flickering to the boy just as he tossed his wand in the air and caught it effortlessly, grinning at something one of his friends said. There was something magnetic about him, something that made you wonder who he was. You hadn’t even realized you were staring until Imelda tugged on your arm again, chuckling softly.

“Oh, Merlin,” she said, clearly amused. “Already eyeing Prewett, are you?”

“What?” you asked, startled. “I wasn’t—”

Imelda rolled her eyes, her grin widening. “Sure you weren’t. That’s Leander Prewett. Top Summoner’s Court player in the school, a massive flirt, and annoyingly good at just about everything. And yes,” she added with a smirk, “he’s fully aware of how good-looking he is.”

You felt heat creep up your neck as you scrambled to defend yourself. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Right,” Imelda said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You were just appreciating the scenery.”

Groaning, you nudged her with your elbow. “Can we just go?”

Ominis chuckled. “Come on, Imelda. I’m sure she’s already overwhelmed enough.

Imelda rolled her eyes but relented, leading you inside and toward the Great Hall. When the three of you reached the Slytherin table, Imelda gestured toward a spot next to her. The table gleamed under the flickering candlelight, its surface polished to a mirror shine. You sat down tentatively, Imelda on one side and two other girls—one with dark hair spilling down her back, the other with her somewhat lighter hair tied neatly into a ponytail—on the other.

“Ladies,” Imelda said smoothly, gesturing to you with a casual wave. “This is my oldest friend and Hogwarts newest transfer student."

The girl with the ponytail grinned warmly. “Nerida Roberts,” she said, offering a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“And I’m Grace Pinch-Smedley,” added the other girl, giving a polite nod. “Welcome to Hogwarts.”

“Thank you,” you said warmly, offering your name as you shook Nerida’s hand. Turning to Grace with a small smile, you added, “It’s nice to meet you both.”

Ominis slid gracefully into the seat across from Nerida and Grace, his movements precise and deliberate. He rested his hands lightly on the table, his pale gaze shifting in your direction. “So, Beauxbatons,” he began, his voice polite and curious. “What was it like? I’ve always imagined it to be… grand.”

You blinked at the sudden attention but managed a small smile. “It’s beautiful,” you said, trying to sum up a place that had been your home for so long. “Elegant, for sure. But strict, too. Everything had to be perfect—uniforms, posture, manners.”

Nerida snorted softly, her elbow propped on the table. “Sounds dreadful. How’d you survive?”

You chuckled. “I ask myself that sometimes. It was a lot, but... well, it was home. And all my friends were there. Not to mention the grounds were stunning, and the food was incredible.”

Ominis nodded thoughtfully. “I imagine the transition to Hogwarts must be… a bit jarring.”

You hesitated, glancing at Imelda, who gave you a subtle nudge under the table. “It’s definitely different,” you admitted. “Less polished, but in a good way. It feels more alive.”

“Alive is one way to put it,” Nerida quipped with a grin. “Chaotic might be more accurate. Just wait until Peeves finds you.”

“Peeves?” you asked, furrowing your brow.

“The Poltergeist,” Grace supplied with a sigh. “You’ll hear him before you see him, unfortunately.”

Before you could ask for details, a voice interrupted the conversation—a smooth, confident drawl that cut through the noise like a sharp blade.

“Well, well, what do we have we here?”

You looked up and froze. The boy standing at the head of the table was, for lack of a better word, stunning. Dark brown hair framed his angular face, his warm brown eyes sharp and filled with mischief, and his smile—crooked and self-assured—had an edge of arrogance that was almost magnetic.

And then there was the way he was dressed—or, rather, the way he wasn’t. While everyone else around you was neatly clad in Hogwarts uniforms, this boy had abandoned the standard entirely. His black cloak was draped lazily over his arm, and he wore a faded black shirt with a band logo you recognized, the sleeves rolled just enough to show off his forearms.

Your stomach flipped before you could stop it. But then he opened his mouth again.

“New girl, huh?” His gaze flicked over you, assessing. “Guess Hogwarts is letting in anyone these days.”

The warmth that had been bubbling in your chest turned icy in an instant.

“Don't be an ass," Ominis said, his tone sharp enough to cut glass.

Imelda’s eyes narrowed as she leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. "Surely you don’t want to embarrass yourself before she even knows who you are.”

The boy shrugged, flashing you a grin that might have been charming if you weren’t already bristling. “Apologies,” he said, though his tone was anything but sincere. “Sebastian Sallow. And you are?”

You stared at him, your mind connecting the dots almost instantly. So this is the infamous Sebastian Sallow. Recognition flickered, followed quickly by irritation.

“Chouette,” Imelda said smoothly, gesturing toward you. “Hogwarts’ newest transfer student. My oldest friend. And if you keep running your mouth, you’ll be eating pudding from the hospital wing by the end of the night.”

Grace stifled a laugh, while Nerida smirked openly. Ominis simply sighed, his expression a mix of exasperation and mild amusement.

Sebastian raised his hands in mock surrender, though his grin didn’t waver. “No need for violence, Imelda." He chuckled and slid into the seat beside Ominis as his sharp brown eyes flicked to your colorless robes, the lack of a house tie or emblem drawing his attention.

“Hmm,” he drawled, leaning slightly against the table as though appraising a particularly curious find. “I don’t think you’ll be sitting at this table for long.”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Oh?”

“Judging by the… interesting nickname and the accent,” he continued, his tone dripping with amusement. “let me guess, you’re from Beauxbatons? And their students are what—Hufflepuff material? Maybe Ravenclaw?”

“Sebastian,” Ominis warned, his voice low and sharp.

“I'm just saying,” he said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “I wouldn’t hold my breath. Slytherin’s not for everyone, especially someone who’s used to…” He paused as he gestured vaguely again, “…a more delicate lifestyle.”

You scoffed. “And here I thought Slytherins were supposed to be cunning,” you replied evenly, tilting your head slightly as you found your voice. “But I guess all that ambition doesn’t leave much room for creativity. It’s almost impressive, really—managing to be both predictable and wrong in a single sentence.”

Sebastian’s grin faltered for a split second before snapping back into place, though the glint in his eyes turned sharp, like he’d just found a new game to play. “I'm just saying, adjusting to a new school at the last minute must be overwhelming,” he said smoothly, his tone dripping with condescension. “Let’s see if the Sorting Hat can find somewhere for you to fit.”

Imelda groaned audibly, throwing her head back. “Shut up, Sebastian.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “What? Don’t you think it’s my duty to give her a proper Hogwarts welcome?”

“Your definition of ‘proper’ is questionable,” Grace muttered, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

“Is it?” Sebastian replied, his grin unwavering. “I think I’ve made quite the impression.”

“Yeah,” you said evenly. “Just not the one you think.”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s better to stand out than to blend in, don’t you think?”

“Oh, you stand out, alright,” you replied, your tone sharp.

Sebastian’s eyes swept over you again, sharp and calculating, before his expression turned mock-thoughtful once more.

"Well, I'm certainly not the only one," he said smoothly, his tone laced with something you couldn’t quite place but knew you didn’t like. “I mean, you’re kinda hard to miss. But, uh…” He tilted his head slightly, the smirk creeping back onto his lips. “Just a bit of advice, since I’m feeling generous,” he drawled. “The food here is great—buffet-style, really—but, you know… moderation. It’s worth considering.”

The words hit like a slap, sharp and deliberate, leaving the table in stunned silence and feeding into an insecurity you’d carried for as long as you could remember. You’d always been bigger—bigger than the other girls at Beauxbatons, bigger than most people thought you “should” be. It was something people seemed to notice before they noticed you. Your size came first, and everything else about you—your thoughts, your talents, your personality—became secondary, if they even mattered at all.

You’d worked hard not to let it define you, not to let the looks and whispers get under your skin. But in moments like this, when someone threw it in your face with a smug grin, it was impossible not to feel the sting. For a brief moment, the familiar ache threatened to creep in, whispering that you’d never belong here, or anywhere. That you’d always be the odd one out. That you’d never be good enough.

But you weren’t about to let him see that.

Before you could respond, though, Imelda was already snapping. “What the fuck? Do you ever stop to think before you open your mouth?"

“That was completely uncalled for,” Ominis cut in sharply, his voice cracking like a whip.

Nerida let out a derisive snort. “You’ve said some idiotic things before, but this is a new low,” she said, staring at him as though he’d sprouted a third head.

Sebastian glanced around, clearly taken aback by the backlash, though he quickly masked it with an exaggerated shrug. “What? I was just joking,” he said. “Don’t get your wands in a knot.”

“Truly, what an innovative personality you’ve cultivated. So original,” you said suddenly, your voice cutting through the tension at the table. The group turned to you, startled by the calm sharpness in your tone. “I know your kind. It’s always the same with guys like you."

That seemed to catch him off guard. His smirk faltered, confusion flashing in his eyes. “My kind?” he repeated.

You tilted your head, keeping your expression steady despite the thunderous rhythm of your heart. You told yourself you shouldn’t stoop to his level, shouldn’t let him get under your skin, but the words tumbled out before you could stop them, sharp and precise.

“Yeah. The student athlete heartthrob who thinks being a prick is endearing. The guy who throws around shitty comments thinking it makes him clever or edgy. If it wasn’t already abundantly obvious, let me make it clear: it doesn’t. It just makes you predictable and pathetic.”

Sebastian blinked, clearly trying to process your words. His smirk slipped further, replaced by something closer to genuine surprise. For a moment, it seemed as though he was searching for a retort, but nothing came.

Grace stifled a giggle behind her hand, while Nerida openly grinned, her eyes darting between you and Sebastian like she was watching an impromptu Quidditch match. Even Ominis let a faint smirk tug at his lips.

You leaned back in your seat, arms crossed in mock lamentation, your gaze pinned firmly on Sebastian. “What’s this? Quiet, all of a sudden?” you said, your voice saccharine and laced with venom. “Oh, don’t stop now, Sebastian. Please, enlighten me with more of your cutting wit. I’m positively desperate to hear what else you think qualifies as clever banter.”

For a fleeting second, Sebastian hesitated. Then he shook his head, his grin creeping back, though it was smaller now, almost reluctant. “You’ve got a sharp tongue, I’ll give you that.”

“And you’ve got a wardrobe full of pretense and exactly zero originality,” you shot back without missing a beat, your eyes flicking deliberately to his faded band shirt.

You were well aware of the hypocrisy in your words even as you spoke them. Merlin knew you had a drawer full of band shirts yourself, a rotating collection of your favorite oversized tees that served as both a badge of honor and a comfortable fallback. You weren’t the gatekeeping type—far from it. But Sebastian Sallow wasn’t the first guy like this you’d encountered, and experience had taught you exactly where to aim to knock someone like him down a peg.

Sebastian blinked, momentarily thrown. “Excuse me?”

You tilted your head, feigning contemplation, your voice calm but laced with razor-edged sarcasm. “Let me guess—you picked up that Smiths shirt at a thrift shop because you thought it would make you look deep and brooding and intellectual. What’s next? Are you going to quote How Soon Is Now? at me and call it a personality? Because I’ve met that guy before, and trust me—you’re not breaking new ground.”

The stunned silence that followed was palpable. Sebastian stared at you, his smirk wiped clean from his face, replaced by a blank expression that was almost unnerving in its stillness. For a fleeting moment, you couldn’t tell if he was about to laugh, get angry, or fire back with something equally cutting. But he didn’t say a word.

The others, however, were less restrained. Imelda cackled, slapping the table with her palm as she leaned back in her seat. “Told you to shut up while you were still ahead, Sallow. Chouette's not a push-over."

Grace covered her mouth with her hand, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter, while Nerida didn’t even bother hiding her amusement. “Honestly, it’s about time someone put him in his place,” Nerida said, grinning as she glanced between you and Sebastian.

Sebastian blinked, whatever fire he’d had earlier extinguished. His sharp brown eyes lingered on you, something unreadable flickering behind them—a spark of surprise? Annoyance?—but whatever it was vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He forced a shrug, the motion stiff and hollow, and leaned back in his seat with an air of practiced nonchalance that didn’t quite land. His bruised ego hung in the air like smoke.

Not that it mattered.

Before anything more could be said, the noise in the Great Hall suddenly hushed. You glanced toward the front of the room to see Headmaster Black standing by the Sorting Hat, his expression a mix of irritation and boredom. He raised his hands, gesturing for quiet, though his sour demeanor seemed to imply he didn’t expect much from the room.

“Let’s get on with it, shall we?” he drawled, his voice carrying across the hall. “The Sorting Ceremony will now begin.”

Your stomach twisted as Professor Weasley stepped forward with the list of names, her warm smile doing little to calm your nerves. She called the first name, and your heart sank when it was yours.

Imelda gave you an encouraging nudge. “Go on,” she said with a grin.

You swallowed hard and stood, your legs carrying you toward the front of the hall almost on autopilot. The weight of hundreds of eyes on you was suffocating, and you felt your face flush as you approached the Sorting Hat. You could hear faint whispers ripple through the crowd as students speculated about the new girl, but you forced yourself to ignore them.

The hat was placed on your head, and the world around you seemed to disappear as its voice filled your mind.

“Ah, a Seventh Year, eh? Interesting. Very interesting indeed. Let’s see what we have here...”

You swallowed hard. Is it always this dramatic? you thought, the sarcasm slipping out before you could stop it.

The hat chuckled. “A sharp tongue, I see. And wit to match. You’re clever—no doubt about that. Ravenclaw would suit you well. But there’s more… bravery, certainly... A strong sense of justice. Gryffindor might fit…”

You held your breath, waiting as the hat’s musings trailed off.

“But no,” the hat said, its tone turning thoughtful. “There’s ambition here—strong ambition. And a determination too. Hmm… tricky, very tricky…”

You could feel the weight of the decision hanging in the air, the hat’s hesitation palpable. But then the hat made a self satisfied "Ah!" and before you knew it, the hat's voice was booming through the hall.

“Slytherin!”

You froze for a moment and the world came rushing back into focus. Applause erupted from the Slytherin table, led enthusiastically by Imelda, though you couldn’t quite shake the knot in your stomach as you made your way back toward them… because you’d be stuck with Sebastian Sallow all year.

“Well, welcome to the den of snakes,” Imelda cheered as you approached. “Don’t worry, you already fit right in.”

You glanced across the table and found Ominis watching you with a faint smile. “Congratulations and welcome,” he said softly. “The hat made the right choice.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, though the words felt hollow. Your gaze flickered to Sebastian, who lounged in his seat with an expression that could only be described as... confused. His eyes met yours briefly, and you simply cocked an eyebrow, letting the gesture speak for itself.

Imelda caught the exchange and snickered, leaning closer to you. “Merlin’s beard, you’ve got him rattled,” she said in a low voice, her tone somewhere between impressed and amused. “That’s new."

“Is he always like this?” you asked under your breath, your gaze flickering back to Sebastian for a moment before returning to Imelda.

“Unfortunately,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. "But don’t let him get to you. He’s a prat most of the time, but he grows on you. Like a stubborn rash.”

“High praise,” you muttered, "Je pense que je vais garder mes distances."

Imelda snorted at your muttered French, clearly understanding enough to catch your drift. “Good luck with that,” she said dryly, her smirk widening. “Sebastian has a way of worming into everyone’s business whether they want him there or not.”

“Sounds delightful,” you replied, your tone flat.

As the sorting continued, you allowed yourself a moment to appreciate the scene around you. Despite everything—the nerves, the awkwardness of being the new girl, and Sebastian’s infuriating attitude—Hogwarts certainly had a charm of its own. The way the candlelight flickered off the long tables, the enchanted ceiling reflecting the night sky above, and the palpable energy of students eager for the start of a new term—it all felt alive in a way Beauxbatons never had.

"Grace, look at that one," Nerida whispered excitedly, nudging Grace as another small first-year stumbled nervously toward the hat.

“Poor thing looks terrified,” Grace whispered back with a smile. “Reminds me of my own sorting.”

You smiled faintly at their banter, but a small, persistent voice in the back of your mind kept reminding you that you were still an outsider. Everyone around you had years of shared experiences, stories, and inside jokes that you couldn’t hope to understand or fit into overnight.

As the Sorting Ceremony neared its conclusion, the steady stream of nervous first-years dwindled until only one remained—a wide-eyed boy who looked moments away from fainting. The Sorting Hat barely touched his head before bellowing, "Hufflepuff!" A cheer erupted from the Hufflepuff table as the boy scurried to his seat.

Headmaster Black rose languidly from his chair at the staff table, his expression a blend of boredom and mild irritation, as if the entire evening had been an inconvenience. He waved a dismissive hand toward the hall, his voice carrying effortlessly over the chatter.

“Well, now that we’ve gotten that tiresome ordeal out of the way,” he drawled, his tone dripping with condescension, “you may enjoy your feast.”

The platters of food on the tables filled instantly with a mouth-watering array of dishes: roasted meats, golden potatoes, steaming vegetables, and fragrant pies. The smell alone was enough to make your stomach rumble.

Imelda grinned at you. “Now you’re getting the Hogwarts experience,” she said. “Trust me, the food here is one of the few things that’ll never let you down.”

You chuckled softly at Imelda’s remark, but her encouragement did little to silence the unwelcome echo of Sebastian’s earlier comment in your mind. “Moderation. It’s worth considering.” The words clung to you like a stubborn burr, sharp and biting.

Swallowing hard, you opted for a small portion: a single piece of roast chicken, a scoop of potatoes, and a few vegetables. The rich aromas wafted around you, but the knot in your stomach dulled your appetite.

Imelda didn’t seem to notice as she busied herself loading her own plate. Across the table, Nerida and Grace were deep in animated conversation about summer holidays, their voices blending into the lively chatter of the Great Hall. You focused on their words, nodding occasionally, but contributed little. It was easier to listen, to let their easy camaraderie wash over you while you quietly tried to find your footing.

Sebastian, at some point, returned to being the center of attention. He leaned casually on the table, his earlier smugness replaced with a more agreeable charm. He was laughing and gesturing animatedly as he recounted some story that had them all chuckling. The warmth in his tone was strikingly different from the sharp-edged comments he’d aimed at you earlier.

“Seems like he’s in a better mood now,” you muttered under your breath.

Imelda scoffed. “For now. Just wait until you see him on the Quidditch pitch.”

The mention of Quidditch piqued your interest, but before you could ask, Sebastian’s voice carried across the table, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Oi, Ominis,” he said, “What’s the over-under on me dragging you out to a practice this year? Still terrified of flying?”

Ominis, who had been quietly enjoying his meal, sighed deeply, setting down his fork with deliberate patience. “I’m not terrified,” he replied, his tone flat. “I simply prefer not to hurl myself into the sky on a broomstick, especially when there’s a perfectly good ground to stand on.”

Sebastian leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms with exaggerated amusement. “Oh, come on. A little adrenaline never hurt anyone.”

“Except for the countless people who’ve fallen off their brooms,” Ominis shot back dryly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Like you."

Laughter rippled across the table, and you couldn’t help the faint tug of a smile at their banter. Sebastian’s teasing tone was lighter now, his words less pointed and more playful. It was clear this version of him—the one laughing easily with his friends—was the one they all knew and tolerated, even enjoyed.

But for you, the memory of his earlier barbs was too fresh, his easy charm only serving to deepen your irritation. You’d seen this type before: the golden boy who could say whatever he wanted and still be adored by everyone around him. He was the center of the group’s attention now, weaving through conversations with an effortless charisma that left you feeling even more like an outsider.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Ominis remarked eventually, his soft voice cutting through your thoughts. His pale gaze was turned in your direction, steady and unassuming. “Are we overwhelming you already?”

You managed a small smile. “No, not at all. Just... taking it all in.”

Ominis inclined his head slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Understandable. But I’ve no doubt you’ll settle in quickly.”

“Thanks,” you said, your tone genuine. Of all the people you’d met so far, Ominis seemed the most sincere, his calm presence a stark contrast to the chaos of the evening.

Imelda, catching the tail end of your exchange, grinned as she elbowed you lightly. “See? I told you. You’ll fit right in.”

You nodded, though the weight of the evening still sat heavy on your shoulders. You glanced back across the table, catching a fleeting look from Sebastian before he quickly returned his attention to his friends. For a moment, you wondered if he was deliberately ignoring you or if he simply didn’t care.

Either way, you decided, it didn’t matter. You weren’t here to impress him.

Steeling yourself, you took a small bite of the potatoes and focused on the warmth of the Great Hall around you. It might not feel like home just yet, but it was a start.

Next Chapter →

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contentloadingandstuff · 1 year ago

Text

Nilou x Veteran!Warrior!Male!Reader

A/N: Here's something light and hopefully fun to read. Enjoy! CW: None.

When Nilou’s fans come up to her for autographs, they can’t help but cast worried glances at the man next to her. Despite officially being only a bodyguard, the warm smiles and kind looks you exchange with each other have made your love obvious to the people of Sumeru. Nobody mentions it in her, let alone your presence though - they know you’re not someone to be messed with.

Nobody really knows where you fought, but your more-than-professional demeanor, your grizzled eyes, speaking of experience, make it more than obvious that you’ve seen your share. Your handling of weapons makes you a commanding presence - you hardly ever have to speak to make sure Nilou has as much space as she needs to feel comfortable.

For your adorable lover, however, your presence is quite the opposite - you’re a guarantee of comfort and safety, and such a cute one at that! She finds it positively heartwarming how you compare to her. You’re a big, strong and scary guy while she’s a tiny and innocent girl.

Nilou: Hey sweetie, can you… pick me up, please? Y/N: Hm? Oh, of course. Nilou: W-whoah! Hehe~ It’s like in those fairytales, isn’t it?

You’re her knight in shining armor, and she’s your princess in need of keeping safe and sound. It always gets her heart racing when you remind her just how fragile and gentle she is - as a flower, needing strong hands to protect her from the cold winds.

Speaking of digits, she really enjoys holding hands with you. Your hands, just like your whole person, are the precise opposites of her. They are big, rough, full of little scratches, scars and other wear-and-tear from your days of campaigns and fighting. They were and still are capable of feats of great strength and violence - she saw how tightly you grip the sword, just as she saw your enemies staggering under your blows. And yet, despite that, you are as gentle with her as can be when you stroke her hair or touch her cheek.

With your body being as it is, you make for a very safe shelter for her. Nilou would like nothing else than to curl up in your strong, masculine arms, safely away from the threats and dangers of the world. Your body is also very good at heating her up on cold days with how big it is. A perfect pillow, a perfect ladder, a perfect vehicle, a perfect jar opener - she enjoys it thoroughly, and isn’t afraid to show her appreciation of you.

Whenever you’re shirtless, expect Nilou to always show respect to your scars. They are marks of a warrior, a courageous man who endured wounds and stood tall through adversity. She’ll kiss them gently, and if you allow her, trace her fingers along them with featherlight touches. Nilou would love to learn their stories, but will understand when you don’t want to share them. She knows that these particular ones might have scarred more than your body.

Nilou enjoys taking care of her big, strong man. She will cook for you whenever there’s a chance, even if you insist otherwise.

Nilou: Here you go honey! Enjoy~ Y/N: This is wonderful… But you didn’t have to go all this way, you know? I have a pair of hands… Nilou: Hey, don’t mention it. It’s my obligation and my pleasure as your woman to keep you just as healthy and happy as you keep me, right? I think it's just fair, sweetie.

Nilou is very aware that her anxiety regarding leaving Sumeru City is a result of her sheltered life. She’s never really left it - the wilderness is teeming with bandits, Fatui and monsters who would all gladly have a piece of her if the opportunity came. She might have a Vision, but Nilou’s no warrior - she never practiced using it for combat, never had the need to fight, nor is she a very strong girl. With you by her side, however, she feels safe. She knows you’ll keep her way out of danger - she saw you fight, so trust isn’t the sole thing backing up her belief in your capabilities. Nilou truly enjoys walks out in the forest without a care in the world as well as picnics with you. Still, she insists on getting back before it gets dark, and if evening catches you by surprise, you’ll find her gripping your hand and sticking very close to you.

Kindness speaks through your eyes, but they also betray years of experience and proficiency at fighting. This is the exact reason that Nilou’s manager decided that you’d make a perfect bodyguard for Nilou. Sure, Sumeru wasn’t really known for violent incidents, but you never know. The simple fact that you happen to be her husband is an added benefit as well. Nilou is more motivated, feels safer and is generally happier when you’re nearby. Besides, she only agrees to leave for Port Ormos if you accompany her, which by itself is a big step up from before when she was confined to Sumeru City. Still, other locations are for the future only for the time being.

Y/N: I’m sorry miss, but this is a staff only area. Woman: I am allowed to pass. Nilou: Is everything alright? Y/N: Yes, Nilou. Turns back May I see proof of this then? Woman: I don’t need to show a grunt like you anything. Do you know who I am? Y/N: No and, frankly, I do not care. Please step back. Woman: I have my methods for types like you! Y/N: leans in And I have my methods of making you into a headstone or a vegetable. You may take your pick.

Due to the nature of your past job, some may see a killer in you, but Nilou doesn’t share their outlook. She might be young, optimistic and innocent by nature, but it doesn’t mean she’s oblivious to what war is. Your stories, as dark and upsetting as they are, only furthered her disdain towards conflict, but not towards you.

Nilou knows that you cannot expect someone to act humane in an inhuman situation. She knows that the people and creatures you had killed were not killed for your own amusement, but because it was a simple choice between you and them. She does not hate you - she never will. You are just like the thousands of other young men, sent to the frontlines and made to kill monsters or their fellow man without much choice in the matter.

She does appreciate that the war made you the man of today - a rugged, attractive beast of a fearless man - but she won't ever as much as think of suggesting that the war had a positive effect on you. Saying this wouldn't only be insensitive, but also, sadly, untrue.

Your experiences left a permanent mark on you. They scarred both your body and your mind. She can see it in your eyes. You haven't fully left the battlefield, left the army, and it is plain to see. You have a set daily schedule, for example. You also keep a sword by your bedside and a dagger under your pillow. “Just in case” you promise, but she knows better than that.

You have dreams about your past that might come and go, as you reassure her, but seeing you in distress breaks her heart. Nilou was always waking you up whenever a nightmare haunted you, calmly reassuring you that it's okay, that it's all a dream. She grounds you with gentle touches and soft words, expertly bringing you back to reality. At home, you dislike talking about the war, just as you dislike noise, especially metallic in nature. Nilou understands that, and makes sure to avoid rattling kitchen equipment and the like when she's preparing you food, for example.

Speaking of cooking, and taking care of you in general, it doesn’t bother her at all, partly because of what you experienced. In the last, you have been forced out of your home and into a life of violence and approved murder where every day could be your last. But now you're home - with her. She is your wife, your home, your safe refuge. It's only natural for her to find fulfillment and pleasure in creating a loving retreat for you to rest your weary soul in.

She is thrilled to help you and care for you, for just one, simple reason. She loves you.

Thanks for reading!

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #fluff #genshin impact nilou #nilou #nilou x reader #nilou x y/n #nilou x male reader #nilou x you #nilou fluff

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perfectsunlight · 10 months ago

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[04] NEW BEST FRIEND

warnings: none

AUGUST 2028

jane ivory kim rarely got upset. but when she did, it was always for a good reason.

“i’m not going.” the teenager shook her head in disbelief. jieun sighed sympathetically, knowing she had no control in the current matter, but still wanting nothing more than for her granddaughter to be happy.

“jane,” jieun said softly as she gently reached and put a hand on the other girl’s knee. “it’s what your mother wants.”

cat-like eyes flashed with frustration and almost utter annoyance. “but she doesn’t even know what i want. she barely knows anything about my life. all my friends are going to apgujeong high school, and she wants to ship me off to some snobby all-girls school?”

jieun knew that the only thing to cause the docile girl to become irate was her mother.

her heart ached at the truth in her granddaughter’s words. she didn’t entirely support jennie’s decision, but she knew that she had no say in it otherwise. “i know, sweetheart. but your mother thinks this school will offer you the best opportunities.”

ivory clenched her fists, her knuckles turning the same shade of her name. “opportunities for what? to be alone? to be around girls who don’t care about anything but money? if that woman likes it so much, she should go herself.”

the older woman’s shoulders deflated. recently, the teenager had been referring to her mother as anything but her mother. as inherently rude as it was, jieun couldn’t argue against jane’s choice.

“it’s an international school, maybe it'll be good for you to meet some new people.” jieun suggested, trying to find a positive note. ivory’s shoulders slumped forward, knowing she couldn’t argue with her grandmother for something that wasn’t in her control.

“are the uniforms pretty at least?”

—

jieun descended from the stairs to see her granddaughter tightening her necktie. the uniforms were very elegant, and the older woman couldn’t help but smile. “you look very intelligent.” ivory shifted her gaze from the living room mirror to her grandmother. she shot the woman a playful eye roll before adjusting her blazer. it was navy blue, tailored to fit perfectly and adorned with the school's emblem on the left breast pocket. the white blouse beneath was buttoned up neatly, the collar peeking out just above the blazer’s lapel. her pleated skirt, also navy blue, fell just above her knees, paired with white socks and polished black shoes.

she tugged at the hem of her skirt, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles. “at least it’s comfortable,” she remarked, trying to find a silver lining.

jieun smiled, stepping closer to adjust a stray strand of hair behind ivory’s ear. “you look beautiful, sweetheart. you’ll do great.”

the teenager gave a small nod, glancing back at her reflection. the uniform was indeed elegant and gave her a polished appearance, but it also felt like a costume she had to wear to fit into a role she didn’t choose.

with a deep breath, she picked up her school bag, its weight a reminder of the day ahead. “i guess i better get going,” she said, her voice wavering slightly.

jieun’s eyes softened with understanding. “are you sure you don’t want your mother to give you a ride?” jane quickly shook her head with a smile. the only reason the older woman asked was because she and jennie were going to paris for fashion week.

and although a ride to school would be nice, jane felt that keeping her pride was the better option.

“enjoy your vacation, grandma.”

—

the walk to school was only 20 minutes, but each step felt like an eternity. however, upon approaching the school’s front gates, it was evident that the world she was stepping into was one she’d never truly been in.

sure, her family had money. but jane liked normal things. she liked her normal friends and her normal life without the pressure of her mother’s status. as she walked through the pristine, manicured grounds of her new school, she felt a pang of longing for the simplicity she had left behind.

inside the main hall, echoes of footsteps and snippets of conversation bounced off the walls. some spoke of their parent’s cars, others mentioned their latest vacation, and some were simply taking pictures with their friends.

the brunette almost bumped into a few girls who were clearly rushing to get to their classes. she narrowly avoided collision, but still knew that she’d have to keep her eyes up because it still was the first day.

her classes went by slowly, and even though jane didn’t speak more than four words in the past four hours, she was already sick of it here. lunch time was her chance to finally have a moment to herself. she scanned the dining hall, glancing at the obvious cliques at each table.

naturally, she decided to check the bathroom to see if it was empty.

unfortunately, she was met with a group of girls taking photos and the smell of cigarettes. one of the taller girls looked over at jane with a confused look. “do you need something?” she asked while her friends whispered to each other.

“who the hell is that?”

ivory opened her mouth to say something in return, however she knew better than to entertain such antics. she quickly bowed and mumbled an apology before quickly leaving.

she was making her way to check outside when suddenly, a girl hurrying in the opposite direction collided with her, causing jane to stumble backward. the girl's water bottle slipped from her hand and splashed across jane's chest.

“sorry!” the girl exclaimed while still running in the opposite direction. the younger girl sighed, trying to maintain her composure despite the cold water seeping through her uniform. “seriously,” she muttered, though her tone betrayed a hint of frustration. she wiped at the damp spots on her blazer with her sleeve, trying to salvage what she could.

she could hear the small snickers of her peers around her, but the idol’s daughter decided to simply ignore it. jane wandered outside, rubbing the back of her neck and taking a seat on the steps to the entrance.

the sun warmed her face, providing a brief respite from the cool dampness of her uniform. she closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

footsteps approached, and jane opened her eyes to see a taller girl with a kind smile standing in front of her. she had a gentle demeanor, her eyes curious yet empathetic.

“rough day?” the girl asked, sitting down beside jane on the steps without waiting for an invitation.

jane managed a small smile, appreciating the small conversation. “you could say that,” she replied, glancing down at her slightly damp blazer.

the taller girl’s eyes twinkled with curiosity. “new here?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. jane simply nodded, feeling a sense of relief at this new friendly demeanor. “yeah, just started today,” she admitted, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

the ravenette nodded understandingly. “well, welcome to the academy,” she said warmly. “there’s good things here, i promise.”

jane chuckled softly, appreciating this attempt to lighten the mood. “good to know,” she replied. the stranger turned to rummage through her bag before handing jane some tissues. “here, this might help.”

jane accepted the tissues with a grateful smile, touched by the thoughtful gesture. she dabbed at the remaining damp spots on her blazer, feeling a bit more composed now. the sun overhead cast a warm glow, and the quiet chatter of students around them created a soothing backdrop.

“thank you,” jane said sincerely, meeting her eyes. “you really didn't have to do that.”

the other girl waved off her gratitude with a smile. “it's no problem at all. we've all been there, right?”

ivory nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie with the girl despite just meeting her. “yeah, i guess so,” she admitted, realizing she felt more at ease talking to her than she had with most people at the academy so far.

“so, where are you from?” the other girl asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

jane hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to share. she had always been cautious about revealing too much, especially about her background.

“seoul,” jane replied finally, deciding to keep it vague. “what about you?”

the stranger smiled, seemingly content with the answer. “same. what program are you in?”

“music.” ivory smiled as she watched the other girl’s face light up. “really? me too! we’ll definitely have classes together then.”

“oh i almost forgot,” the stranger continued before she rummaged through her bag again. she pulled out a roll of kimbap. “here, you must be hungry. don’t worry, i made extra.”

jane’s smile widened at the sight of the food. she took it gratefully, mentally reminding herself to pack her own snacks next time. “thank you. i’ll bring you something tomorrow.”

the taller girl grinned warmly as jane accepted the roll of kimbap, her eyes crinkling with genuine friendliness. “you're welcome! i hope you like it,” she said cheerfully, clearly pleased to have made a small gesture of kindness.

jane nodded appreciatively, unwrapping the food and taking a bite. the flavors of the seasoned rice, vegetables, and savory filling were comforting and satisfying. “mmm, this is really good,” she complimented, impressed by her new friend’s culinary skills.

the other girl beamed at the praise. “i'm glad you think so! i'll definitely look forward to what you bring tomorrow,” she replied, her tone light and friendly.

after finishing lunch, jane glanced at the stranger with a grateful smile. “thanks again for the food and for being so nice to me. it means a lot,” she admitted softly, touched by this stranger’s kindness.

the ravenette waved off her gratitude with a gentle laugh. “of course! it's nice to have someone new to talk to,” she said warmly. “oh, i should’ve asked for your name.”

jane chuckled and stuck her hand out for the other girl to take. she had a feeling this would be the start of a genuine friendship.

“i’m jane, nice to meet you.” the girl took her hand and shook it firmly, eyes still beaming with excitement. she also felt like she was about to make a new best friend.

“eunchae. hong eunchae.”

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theeternalwomb · 2 years ago

Text

spirit baby reading 🧸

Disclaimer: I usually speak to the feminine collective when I do these so if you’re not mom and you’ll be dad switch things up so they may resonate for you. <3

I’ve literally always been so obsessed with Bey as a mother so I refuse to use anybody else for my banner. Sue me if you’re mad, otherwise have a great time, I’m gonna do these as channeled messages this time, so if you’re in a high-level soulmate or twin flame connection these could be really good to get some insight and understanding from a different perspective. When we talk about spirit babies, we’re speaking of the spirit or the souls of babies that are waiting to be born and spiritually connected to you.

Often when you’re in a soul connection or a twin flame connection, the person you’re connected with is part of your soul family and the children you’re meant to have will choose the two of you as parents are a part of your soul family as well. They love you both unconditionally, free of judgment and misunderstanding because they see everything before they come to you and forget everything about their soul's purpose and about why they chose you as a parent, and what it was like to choose you. They often play a huge role in you and their other parent getting together as well. They protect and guide your connection just as much as the divine. Hope that this is helpful if you’re in a high-level soulmate connection or a twin flame connection, love you! 🧸

pile one:

Before I begin, I just want to say someone’s child is really obsessed with the chicken dance song, idk if you remember what that was from when you were a child but here’s a link to a weird YouTube video with the audio.

“Mom, the best thing you can do right now is to relax and release your control and enjoy yourself. I know that dad is taking a long time but he’s coming to marry you and be with you very soon and you just have to be patient.” For some reason, I’m getting we you could be expecting multiples at some point soon. “We know how much you care about Dad and how patient and gentle you’ve been with him and we ask that you send him lots of love and encouragement even though you guys aren’t speaking that much.

Don’t think that he doesn’t love you or doesn’t want you just because he hasn’t said so because he does. All he wants is to be with you and to build a family with you and that time is coming. He’s closing out karmic cycles and making sure that everything is perfect before he comes towards you because he knows it’s what you deserve. We told you this when we spoke to you in your dream. Dad is making sure that he gets lots of money and gets everything ready so that you will be comfortable and well taken care of and he can buy us lots of stuff.

Please don’t become discouraged or try to forget about Daddy because it hurts that he’s away. We connect with you every day and we’ve been sending you messages through your social media so that you know we’re here waiting for you. Remember that separation and time apart are only an illusion and only exist in one realm of existence. Time to us over here goes by very quickly and you and Dad are not truly separated because you are connected spiritually and are married and in union with one another in spirit.

You and Dad are taking the time out to do the inner work and grow and that’s why you’ve been given this time apart by the universe so that everything can be perfect and ready when you guys come together because the two of you deserve nothing less than perfection. You and Daddy both are doing the inner work and have been working very hard. Continue to do things that you care about and enjoy and take care of yourself in the ways you deserve. Dad is releasing karmic energy within his life, leaving behind third-party interferences that are standing in his way because he’s no longer going to allow anything to get in his way of loving you and being with you. He’s learning to love beyond his fears and his ego and he’s learning to follow his heart every single day after a long time of living for others.

And when he comes to you, he will be completely unrecognizable and he’ll be different from who he was before, when he had a hard time and couldn’t be there for you the way you wanted him to. You’re going to be so proud of him and so happy to see him again. Let go of any self-doubt Mom or any negative ideas about if Dad loves you or if he’s coming. I know you know he is so hold onto what your heart and your spirit are telling you and just relax. Everything is going to be okay.

Dad needs you to release the past and fully let go of past versions of your connection and even let go of the present because it is not a full representation of what he feels for you. After all, he’s not where he truly wants to be right now which is right by your side. There was a lot of hardship that the two of you went through but even you feel in your heart that it was ages ago and we know that you love him and we know that you love him because you can forgive him and show him so much grace even the second he makes a mistake. Cycles are coming to a close. Your time is coming. Please, just rest. “

channeled messages or things I picked up on during the reading 👣:

multiples or a set of twins to be specific (a boy and a girl)

“Take me out to the ballgame” one of these children may really like baseball or grow to like baseball as a sport. You could have an elder family member who enjoys baseball as well.

May enjoy gardening as a hobby

Blue and green as well as purple and orange

Heavily adorned scrapbooks or photo albums

A boy or son being born first or older. He protects.

Close sibling/twin relationship. Irreplaceable to each other. Incomplete without each other. They may grow to enjoy a lot of the same hobbies, I'm getting swimming and recreational sports or arts and crafts they may share together. Not shying away from twin-ness and pride themselves in being very much alike because they respect one another so much.

Boy/son is very caring and emotionally intelligent and compassionate

The girl/daughter may be very shy in nature and very petite and take after her mother in face and stature. I'm hearing she's a diamond. People will really be fond of her beauty and adore her and people who know you or knew you may find her face very nostalgic because she looks so much like you.

I'm also getting that she's got a timeless beauty. She's someone who will grow up to be very stunning and beautiful and would've been that in every era or point in time.

I'm also getting that she may grow up to be fond of music and the arts.

She may like to dance (getting ballet) or do gymnastics.

I'm hearing whoever she marries Daddy is gonna make them pay a big fat dowry or go to the ends of the earth for her and her brother will see it through

***

pile two:

The divine masculine in your life could be tall or something or this baby may come out heavy or just be in a larger percentile for his age group. I instantly got that song Sza sang on SNL “I Need a big boy”

“Mom, things will be made right. I really don't want you and Dad to fight or have trouble but sometimes conflict is necessary because things have to fall away and come out in relationships and sometimes things go wrong for a reason and we have to be strong enough to deal with them. I know that you're sad or you're not feeling hopeful right now. And you may feel like everything is going wrong and everything is against you but that’s just not true. You have to trust in the divine and trust that things will come together and work out for you in the end.

I know that there have been delays and blockages within your and dad’s relationship and with you really getting what you truly desire. And these circumstances have given you bad dreams and made you very scared and anxious but I want you to get some rest and relax. Nothing good comes of being tired and exhausted. Take care of yourself and focus hard on what you can do to make things good around you and enjoy yourself even if things are rough with you and Dad or in other areas of your life. Remember that you and Dad are both growing and sometimes we don’t have all of the answers and don’t have the solution to everything.

The universe is trying to teach you to find wholeness and happiness within yourself right now Mom because that’s what you need the most. You may feel like you need dad or other people and things to feel happy and that’s not true. All the things you’re stressed about aren’t good for your health and aren’t all your responsibility to carry with you so you have to take some time to release your control and release all of this stress. I see what’s going on and I know that you’re unhappy and having a hard time with your current circumstances but things are always capable of getting better and these feelings and these times are temporary.

This is a good time to decide what you want to do with your time Mom or want you want to do with your life and how you want to live. Sometimes when there are blockages, separations, or dramatic changes and events in our lives that means that we need to focus on ourselves more. Dad has lots of internal wounds, karmic cycles, and blockages that he needs to work through before he can be there for you the way you need him to and so the best thing to do is to show him grace and compassion and focus on finding happiness and support within yourself. “

channelled messages or things I picked up on in the reading 👣:

TikTok, social media, or clinging to social media or using social media as a distraction or a way to cope with emotional pain

Umbrella by Rihanna “ooo baby it’s rainin’ rainin’”.

NFL babies /sports babies

“Somewhere over the rainbow” and it’s lyrics

The Wizard of Oz, the cowardly lion, or the Tin Man and their meanings

Miscarriages/infertility/struggle to conceive or complications during pregnancy, or post partum

Plays, performances, or the theater

A boy/ a son

The color blue

Sports teams/mascots

***

pile three:

“I see that you’ve been working very hard Mom, taking care of yourself and taking care of your responsibilities and taking responsibility over your life. It’s time you start thinking about what direction you’d like to take in life or what you really truly want to do so that we have a good foundation for ourselves. Sometimes I’ve seen that you’ve had a hard time focusing or a tempted to put your energy into other things. But you know that nows not the time to be distracted and it’s a lot of progress being able to be tempted and have the strength to stay focused and I’m very proud of you. I know that you’ve been feeling alone or have been alone but I want you to know that in isolation the universe brings us growth.

And that sometimes in life people have to walk away from us or we have to walk away from people and even sometimes we drift apart from our friends and loved ones. It’s a natural part of life and when doors close new doors open Mom. The universe gave you time alone so that you can establish things for yourself and really decide what you want for yourself and take initiative over the directory in which you’re going. All the times we’ve had a hard time. All the times we’ve undergone lots of change in your life, all the times there was chaos and we were confused were all for a good reason, and in life we have to learn to see the lessons in our experiences.

It’s time for you to branch out on your own mom and remove your dependence on others and other things in your life that keep you from living authentically and really growing into the beautiful woman you’re meant to be. And one day you’ll be happy and you’ll be celebrating just how far you’ve come all along. There’s so much potential for you to grow and for experiences and endless opportunities to reach you. And don’t worry about not having found Dad yet Mom because soon you will meet him and soon you’ll finally get the love and the relationship you’ve dreamed of all along, all this time. “

channelled messages or things I picked up on in the reading 👣:

This sounds like a girl or a daughter

“Alright” by Kendrick Lamar

You may choose to be a single mother or look for a donor when you’re ready to have a child

You may not know who your person is or haven’t met your divine counterpart yet or received the love or the relationship that you’ve desired for a long time

This child is going to be really attached to you and take after you in many ways. The two of you may bond over fashion or you may end up being the primary parent and main support system

This child may come at a time where you’re going through a large transition or you’re entering a stage in life where you want something new or different

This is a big girly girl. A huge fan of pink and flowers and may like to get her nails done with you.

She may come out looking a whole lot like you as a child or as a baby

This baby is going to heal your inner child by being able to live the life or have some of the experiences you would’ve wanted for yourself.

***

I hope this gave you some guidance or was something you really wanted to hear tonight 💕 If you ever need a personal reading, you may go to my Instagram and click the link in my bio to book a reading with me! Love you!

#self love #self care #self improvement #self discovery #dream girl #self expression #healingjourney #self healing #manifestation #divine feminine #divine masculine #spirit baby reading #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #tarot #tarot readers of tiktok #tarot readers of instagram #tarot readers of tumblr

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