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bellaxgiornata · 6 days

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Half of Forever [Three]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 4.8k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: break up, pining, idiots in love, angst with a happy ending

a/n: This is the final part of this little mini series. Enjoy the angst and the happy ending you've all been waiting for! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Stepping off the bus, you were immediately hit with the onslaught of rain heavily beating down on you from above. Ducking your head, you dashed across the sidewalk towards the nearest overhang for temporary shelter. As you darted towards the bodega, your dress shoes splashed water up onto your slacks as you ran through puddle after puddle.

Breath coming in hard once you'd reached the brief refuge, you took a moment to collect yourself. The rain continued to fall past the overhang, loudly pelting the sidewalk all around you. The handful of passersby toting umbrellas had you instantly wishing you'd grabbed yours before leaving your apartment for work today. But you’d foolishly forgotten to check the weather this morning.

Leaning up against one of the shop’s windows behind you, you heard the crack of thunder far off in the distance. A shiver ran through you, the chilled fabric of your drenched clothing clinging to your skin. Wiping a hand across your wet forehead, you let out a quiet groan as the weight of your predicament hit you.

What a horrible day this had turned out to be.

While you’d been on the city bus making your way home from the office, a storm had rolled in and a downpour had begun. Now standing here and looking out at the large puddles forming along the sidewalks and in the streets, you realized you had a long walk just past the outskirts of Hell's Kitchen and back to your apartment in this mess. All because you'd accidentally missed your actual bus stop, having been too distracted thinking about the reprimand you'd gotten from your boss just before you'd left work today.

Glancing down at your purse, you began to unzip the main compartment before reaching a hand inside. You pulled out your cell phone, your finger desperately holding down the power button as your eyes stared at the black screen and willed it to turn on. Except you knew it wouldn't because the battery had long since died. You hadn't properly plugged it into the charger when you'd gone to sleep last night, so by the time you'd gotten to work this morning and realized the battery was quite low, it had been too late to do anything about it. Your phone had tragically died in your purse some time before lunch.

Though realistically it didn’t matter that your phone was dead. It wasn’t like you could have afforded using one of your apps to set up a ride home even if your phone was working. Because unfortunately for you, you'd had the misfortune of falling ill two weeks ago and the unexpected doctor's bill along with the medication you’d needed had wiped out your measly extra bit of emergency cash.

“Goddammit,” you whispered.

Tears building in your eyes, you watched the rain continue to pour down around you as your chest steadily grew tighter and tighter from the stress of the day. The last thing you felt like doing this evening was spending a half an hour walking home in a storm, but you couldn't just stand here waiting beneath the shop’s overhang for it to end, either. You didn't exactly have a choice.

With a sharp exhale, you reluctantly accepted your fate. Pushing away from the window, you grudgingly stepped out from beneath the safety of your covering and straight into the downpour. You willed your legs to move at a speed faster than your usual pace as the rain once more drenched you. Though despite your increased pace, you certainly weren't tempted to run home because you knew it wouldn’t have mattered anyway–you were already soaked to the bone in a matter of seconds.

Ducking your head to avoid the rain drops from further attempting to blind you, you made your way down the sidewalk. Jaw set firmly, you couldn’t help but internally chastise yourself for having missed your stop before internally berating yourself for forgetting to at least grab the small umbrella you usually kept in your purse. You hadn't put it back after the last rainy day when you’d left it out to dry by your front door.

You’d only managed to make it two blocks while silently fuming to yourself and steadily growing colder in your drenched work clothes before you’d finally become completely overwhelmed. Once more you felt the tears threatening to fall as they welled in your eyes, steadily blurring your vision. This time you didn't think you could hold them back. Gritting your teeth, you rushed towards the nearest overhang on a building up ahead before turning your back to the sidewalk, not wanting the rest of the city to see you publicly breakdown. Burying your face in your hands, you let yourself finally cry.

It felt like things had not been going well for you for a while now–for years if you were being honest–and it felt like today had been the culmination of it all. Your job was awful and barely paid your bills. You hardly had any free time to spend with your friends anymore, and your dating life had only increasingly grown more depressing and lackluster. The apartment you'd once loved you had eventually grown to hate because it held the ghost of Matt everywhere you looked–at your kitchen table, on your couch, in your bed, beneath the spray of your shower.

You should have never come to the city. You should have gone anywhere else instead of giving into your dreams of some brilliant, happy life out here. Some fantastic life full of excitement and love. Because that wasn't the reality of your life in Hell’s Kitchen. Not anymore.

The tears continued to stream down your cheeks, your face still buried against your palms. Biting your bottom lip, you at least attempted to keep your sobs to a volume softer than the rain heavily falling around you and the distant rumbling of thunder. You felt pathetic standing here on the sidewalk crying in a storm in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen.

The sound of your name being called suddenly registered in your ears between your quiet sobs. Your body tensed instantly; you hadn't anticipated anyone approaching you out here let alone someone who apparently knew your name. But when they said your name again, the voice coming from just behind you this time, you knew exactly who had spoken.

Hunching further in on yourself, you felt your heart drop to the ground by your soaked feet. As if your bad day needed to get any worse, now it had. He was the absolute last person you wanted to see right now, the one who haunted your dreams most nights. Roughly wiping the heels of your hands over your eyes, you tried to dry your tears. Because of course if you were going to run into your ex, it had to be when you were embarrassingly at your lowest. Trying to brace yourself for whatever this encounter would do to your already battered heart, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat before cautiously turning around.

If you thought you'd been prepared to see Matt standing there soaked from the storm, you were certainly wrong. The sight of him in his fitted suit with his hair a damp, dark mess clinging to his forehead hit you like a tidal wave. Beads of rain were sliding down his cheeks, just past his red glasses. The corners of his lips were downturned among a darker scruff of beard than you ever recalled him having back when you’d both been together. Both of his hands were squeezing his cane tight between his fists, his dark dress pants wet and clinging to his thighs that had grown far thicker over the years.

With trembling lips, your eyes slowly traveled back up to his face, once more meeting the harsh crimson of his lenses. Teeth clamping down harder on your bottom lip, you fought back the sob threatening to spill forth as more hot tears slid down your cheeks. A sharp pain twisted in your chest, right where your heart resided. He’d grown more handsome with age, though that shouldn’t have remotely come as a surprise to you. He'd always been beautiful.

“What–what are you doing here?” he whispered, his dark brows sinking beneath his glasses. “Is something wrong?”

Your own brows dipped together in confusion before you finally looked around you, taking in your surroundings. It didn’t take long for you to realize where you’d accidentally ended up. Turning your head over your shoulder, you spotted the address on the familiar-looking building. It was Matt’s apartment building. Eyelids slowly lowering, you exhaled a sharp, frustrated breath.

“Are you in trouble?” he asked again, concerned. “Did…you need help?”

How utterly embarrassing this whole situation had become. He thought you’d come here on purpose . For his help as Daredevil most likely. Wincing, you slowly returned your attention to his beautiful, worried face. That sharp pain seared straight through you at the sight of him.

“No,” you whispered, an embarrassed heat burning up your neck. “I didn’t realize exactly where I was.”

Matt’s head tilted curiously to the side, his eyebrows still furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You didn’t come here intentionally? You weren’t looking for me?”

Wincing once more, your eyes dropped down to your wet dress flats as you shook your head. Why couldn’t you have paid more attention to where you were going? Hell’s Kitchen was such a small area and it wasn’t like Matt would have ever left it. You should have been navigating your way home better in the rain so that you wouldn’t end up crying in front of his apartment building.

“No,” you awkwardly admitted. “I was distracted on the bus. Got off on the wrong stop. I wasn’t exactly paying attention to where I was in the storm, I was just trying to get back home.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Matt’s shoulders visibly drop at the information. Not entirely sure what to make of that, you kept your gaze averted as a chill ran up your spine. Your wet clothes certainly were not helping this situation.

“Oh,” he breathed out. “I’m sorry. I thought I recognized it was you standing here and I thought that you…nevermind.”

“No, it’s my fault,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Sorry. I–I didn’t mean to bother you by showing up like this. It was entirely an accident.”

An uncomfortable silence fell between the pair of you, that nauseating feeling you remembered from the night when he’d ended things with you years ago rising to the surface and uncoiling in your stomach. After this unexpected encounter, you knew you’d be trying and failing to move on from him all over again.

“I’m just–just going to go,” you stammered. “I should get back home anyway.”

Gripping your purse straps like a lifeline, you turned in the direction back towards your apartment. Though you’d taken two more steps before Matt called your name over the roar of thunder. You paused, eyes falling shut at the sound of his cane tapping along the sidewalk as you kept your back to him.

“You can’t possibly walk home in this,” he stated. “It’s not safe.”

“I don’t exactly have a choice. My phone’s dead and I don’t have money for a cab anyway,” you confessed awkwardly. “Faster to walk home than anything else at this point.”

You could feel his presence just behind you before you even heard his voice, the hair on the back of your neck prickling at his proximity. Your heart was beating in an agonizing rhythm in your chest with him so near after years of you both being apart. It had been so long since you’d last seen him, since you’d last heard his voice. Every second of this was sheer torture.

“I’ll call you a car,” he offered. “I can pay for it. I can’t have you walk home in this. How much do you need?”

“No, Matt,” you declined, sharply shaking your head.

Turning back towards him, you were surprised to see he’d already pulled his wallet out of his dress pants, his fingers running over the differently folded bills. A surge of emotion welled up within you at the sight, the feeling becoming almost too much to bear as the tears pricked at your eyes again. He never had much but he was always eager and willing to try and help everyone he could. One of the many things you'd always loved about him.

“I’m not taking your money,” you told him, fighting the tremor in your voice. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“Well I can’t let you walk home in this,” he stated again. “I won’t let you.”

A small, sad smile tugged at your lips as you watched a frown form along his own. As a few tears once more snuck their way from the corners of your eyes and burned warm trails down your cheeks, you saw Matt’s hand grip his wallet tighter in his fist.

“What’re you going to do, Matty?” you whispered. “Hold me here against my will?”

His lips thinned out along his face, his dark brows once more pulling together. Ever so subtly you saw him shake his head. With the sad smile still on your face, you nodded slowly.

“Yeah, exactly,” you murmured. “I need to head back home now before this storm gets worse. Goodbye, Matthew.”

Feeling your heart break for a second time, you turned around and stepped out from beneath the overhang on his building and back into the downpour of rain. Ducking your head, you continued down the sidewalk, not even bothering to wipe the tears from your face as they mingled with the drops of rain racing down your cheeks.

What a horrible day this had turned out to be.

Biting down sharply on your lip, you tried hard to muffle a sob now that Matt was here. But as your heart brokenly beat in your chest, you knew you couldn't hide a damn thing from him behind you. You never could.

As you took another step forward, something caught your elbow and tugged you backwards. Stumbling in a half turn, your right foot splashed into yet another puddle as you came face to face with Matt. His eyebrows were still tightly knit together, partially lowered beneath his lenses. His mouth was twisted in uncertainty as you stared back at him, your breath catching in your throat.

“Come up to my apartment,” he offered quietly, releasing your elbow. “You can get out of this storm and I can dry your clothes while you warm up in some blankets.”

Shaking your head slightly at his offer, you knew you'd never be able to accept it. This brief encounter was already painful enough, you didn't want to prolong it any further.

“No, Matt, I can't just–”

“Please,” he pleaded, cutting you off. “Please just come up.”

You stood there with your lips parted in surprise at the earnestness in his voice. Droplets of rain continued to travel down his cheeks, and you saw one bead of water currently clinging to the tip of his nose, mere moments from falling.

“Matt, I can't,” you repeated.

“Why?” he demanded, taking another step towards you. “Tell me. Tell me why you can't come up with me.”

You grimaced, your heart clenching tight in your chest as he continued to drag out this encounter. Tears continued to spill forth from your eyes as you stared back at the desperate expression now spread across his handsome face.

“Why are you doing this, Matt?” you whispered. “Can't you tell how much this is killing me right now? Just standing here talking to you? Now you need me to explain why I can’t just go up to your apartment, too? You really need me to–”

“Because it's killing me, too,” he confessed in a rush before you could finish.

For a second you swore your heart stopped beating at what he'd just admitted. Blinking the rain from your eyes, your mouth fell open in shock. You weren’t entirely sure what to make of that truth, but a part of you began to hope for something right then that you knew you probably shouldn’t.

“Wh–what?” you breathed out.

“I've thought about you,” Matt began, emotion thick in his words. “Over the years, I've thought about you. I can't–can't stop. I've tried, I really have. But I just…I sometimes feel like your presence is still there,” he continued, gesturing his head towards his apartment building behind him. “On occasion I can try to trick myself into thinking that you are–by ordering your favorite takeout or using that soap you always loved. The one with sage and citrus.”

A hesitant smile spread on Matt’s mouth, something melancholic in the way his lips had only marginally curved upwards. Swallowing the lump that had started to form in the back of your throat, another chill raced up your spine as you stood there in your soaked clothes. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you fought down the shiver that was beginning to lightly run through you.

You’d quite literally often dreamt of this moment with Matt. You'd often hoped that one day you’d run into him again somewhere and he would apologize, tell you that he still thought about you. That he still wanted you. But now that he was saying things you’d always wanted to hear, you didn’t quite know how to react. This moment still felt like one of your many dreams.

“It never works for long, though,” he continued softly, voice just louder than the rain. “Because the scent always fades too fast. And I can’t fake the sound of your heartbeat. I can’t–can’t recreate your scent on my bed sheets or the warmth of your body next to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night.”

You closed your eyes, pressing your trembling lips together as you tried to staunch the flow of tears. You couldn’t believe what he was telling you. A few years ago he ended the relationship–a relationship that had been going so wonderfully well. Sure, there had been issues, but overall you two had fit so perfectly together and everything had just felt right. You’d talked about a future together–moving in, getting married, and whatever might come next. Until one day, seemingly out of nowhere, he’d just walked away from it all.

“Then why, Matt?” you whispered, opening your eyes and focusing back on him. With the tears filling your eyes, he’d grown a bit blurry standing there before you. “All those years ago, why did you end things? If you’ve been here all this time feeling exactly like I’ve been feeling for years then…what was the point?”

Matt ducked his head almost shamefully, one hand releasing his cane before rubbing it across his mouth. Nerves swirled in your stomach as another crack of thunder tore through the distance, the rumbling sound accentuating the pause that felt agonizingly long.

“Because I was scared,” he finally confessed, his attention seemingly fixed on the sidewalk–though you knew his senses were fixed on you. “I’d never quite felt how I did for you for anyone else before. One time I thought I did and she…left me. But it wasn’t just a fear of you leaving…”

Matt trailed off for a moment, growing silent as the rain continued to pour down. Your heart was in your throat as you waited for him to finish his thought.

“It was a fear of who I felt I was becoming when I was with you,” he finished softly. “Of what I thought I was losing.”

Eyes narrowing in confusion at Matt, you squeezed your arms tighter around your shivering body. “What do you mean?”

He raised his head, his rain speckled lenses focusing back on you. “We spent a lot of time together, remember? Specifically in the evenings? Before things ended?”

Gaze averting to the ground, you tried to recall the end of the relationship. He had in fact stayed in more frequently. You remembered sharing meals together after work and taking walks at the park. Scheduling date nights on the weekend and staying up late beneath the sheets. It hadn’t been every night, but he had significantly begun to spend more time with you just before he’d ended the whole thing–which had only added to your confusion at the time.

“Yeah,” you answered, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes. “I remember. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“I feared I was changing into someone else,” Matt answered slowly, taking a hesitant step towards you. “I thought I was losing the other half of myself in our relationship because I had begun to spend less time as Daredevil. So I–I pushed you away to try to prevent myself from fully losing myself. And I used that as an excuse to run from my fear of you leaving me.”

"T hat's what you meant by not being able to be yourself with me?” you asked, everything finally beginning to make sense. “Oh Matthew,” you breathed out, shaking your head. “You were never losing Daredevil. Not at all. You never once stopped helping the people who needed it. The nights someone was in danger or something was happening, you still put on the mask.”

Licking your lips as you paused, you could taste the salt of your tears among the droplets of rain. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky behind Matt, just above the tops of the buildings. Seconds later, another roar of thunder punctuated the silence.

“What I think you were doing was learning balance in your life,” you told him. “Learning to be both Matthew Murdock and the Devil.”

“I know,” Matt agreed gently, nodding his head. “But I realized that three years too late. And I'm–I'm so sorry for that.”

Swallowing hard, you felt your heart hammering beneath your arms still wrapped around your chest. “And I never wanted to leave you,” you added, voice cracking as you spoke. “You were my forever, Matty. I told you that.”

A muscle visibly jumped in his cheek, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he couldn't decide on a smile or a frown. Taking another hesitant step, Matt closed the gap between you both. Gazing back at his red lenses, you felt your breath begin to come in sharper now that he was right there .

Without warning his hand reached up, timidly coming to cup your cheek in his palm. As if on instinct, you leant back into his warm touch, the feel of it sending a shudder through you for a reason other than the contrast from the cold. His thumb softly swept outwards, gently brushing away a few teardrops from your cheek. You felt like you couldn't breathe as the pad of his thumb afterwards began to affectionately stroke a line along your cheekbone.

“Please come up,” he begged. “Let me help you.”

Eyes closing, you tried to focus on formulating a thought. But it was hard to think with him touching you, with him pleading for you to let him help you. Inhaling a breath, you'd been about to respond, but then you felt him lightly press his damp forehead to yours and your eyes flew open.

He was so close. His hot breath was falling against your lips as it left his own parted ones. The sensation was dizzying, making it hard to focus on almost anything else. Beneath the arms still tightly wrapped around your chest, you could feel your heart accelerating to a worrying speed.

“We can talk,” he told you. “About everything. I have more to apologize for, I know. I just–just want to fix the mess I made. If it's not too late.”

Exhaling a slow breath, you let his words wash over you like the rain itself, cleansing the years worth of pain that lingered in your heart. Gradually you nodded against his forehead, catching the way he sucked in a sharp breath at the little movement.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I'll come up.”

With the way your eyes had been fixed on his lips, you caught the faint smile that slipped onto his mouth the second it did. Something shot through you like a bolt of electricity at the sight of it. Matt's nose affectionately and timidly bumped yours, a small gesture that brought a rush of feelings straight to the surface along with a confession that bubbled right out of your mouth.

“I missed you,” you whispered. “So much.”

“I missed you, too, angel,” he murmured, thumb brushing away another tear along your cheek. “I've never stopped missing you.”

Matt shifted his head, his lips accidentally grazing yours as he did. A soft whine you had no control over snuck out of you, the sound drawing another sharp inhale from Matt as his nostrils flared. Your hands curled into fists against your body as he leaned in, just barely touching his lips to yours. Eyelids slowly falling shut once more at the feel of his breath washing over you, you sighed in frustration when his mouth still remained at a distance.

“ Matt .”

You breathed out his name like a plea, your fingernails digging into the palms of your hand. It was quickly becoming far too difficult not to touch him.

“Tell me you haven't thought about this, too,” Matt nearly demanded. “Tell me you don't want me. Just one ‘no’ and I won't–”

Losing control, your hands flew away from your sides and landed on Matt's soaked suit coat, balling the wet material in your fists. “Yes,” you answered him. “I'm telling you yes , Matthew.”

There was a moment, a brief one, where Matt’s face hovered in the space just before yours. Your breath was coming in sharp and hard as you watched him, aware he was probably reading your body for whatever he needed to hear. You knew the exact moment he'd found what he was looking for because his expression shifted just before he launched himself forward at you.

Stumbling backwards into the wall of the building behind you at the force of Matt's enthusiasm, your eyes snapped shut the second his mouth was on yours. Hands snaking their way up his chest, you wrapped your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in the damp strands of his hair. You pulled him flush to the front of yourself with a faint gasp, his soaked body deliciously heating the front of your freezing and drenched one.

Matt's hand on your cheek held you in place against the brick wall behind you, tilting your mouth to the exact angle for him to easily connect his lips to yours over and over in a heated passion. The pair of you struggled to catch your breath each time he pulled away, your gasping breaths loud in your own ears despite the storm still raging. His other hand landed on your hip, roughly grabbing it as he kissed you. You could feel the way it shook against you, as if he was struggling not to do more than just hold you there.

“I’m so sorry, angel,” he whispered against your lips.

His mouth was immediately back on yours, relentless in his determination to make you feel just how apologetic he was. Your own mouth was hungrily matching his pace, the rain forgotten as you tried to express the longing you'd been tormented by every single day since he'd left you.

Fingers gripping his hair, you took advantage of the seconds in between kisses. “Don’t you dare–” you broke off as his mouth slammed back onto yours again, “–break my heart again, Matthew,” you finished when he pulled back.

Matt paused at your words, breathing hard as he gazed back at you, the rain continuing to wash over the both of you. Nearly out of breath yourself, you couldn't help but admire how perfect he looked standing there completely soaked with his flushed cheeks and the small smile gracing his swollen lips.

“Never,” he promised. “I hate myself for ever hurting you like that. And it’ll never happen again, I promise you that. The pain of those last three years was torture. Punishment. And I promise we'll talk, angel, we will, but…”

His voice trailed off and your eyes darted back to his lips. The lips you missed, the lips that brought you comfort in a way nothing else ever had. In that moment you understood him completely.

“But not right now,” you agreed.

Yanking him back towards you with the hand still tangled in his hair, you swallowed the resulting soft growl of his down, kissing him with all the longing that you'd bottled inside for the past three years. Matt didn't hesitate to match your passion and enthusiasm as he pressed you further into the brick behind you, your back arching into him just as another rumble of thunder tore through the night.

What an unexpected day this had turned out to be.

Matt Murdock One Shot/Shorts Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @millennial-birkin @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1 @scriptedmoon @ardent-crow @lucienofthelakes @sarahskywalker-amidala @flowher @loves0phelia @a-half-empty-g1rl @zomtart @justvalkyrie @steve-chandler @islayhawkin @slyregg

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #daredevil

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confusedemiposts · 10 months

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Chuuya sfw alphabet

Notes: Requested by Anon but i accidentally deleted the ask.

Tags: Floof, tiny angst for E,D and W. Not proofread, might be oc, GN! reader

'A' is for Affection (How affectionate are they?)

He's very affectionate, he'll spend any time he can with you and buy you a bunch of gifts, he loves seeing your face light up when he suprised you with a gift, a grin on his own face from your reaction. But his favourite is physical touch. He loves it but he keeps it to a minimum in public, he always has a hand on you no matter what and keep his arm around your waist but nothing too much, only one or two short brief kisses if deemed appropriate, this is even less within the Port Mafia because he wants to keep serious and not seem like some lovesick puppy by his subordinates.

But once in private space? He'll smoother your face In kisses and keep you in his arms for as long as he can

'B' is for Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend?)

He's litterly such a nice and calm person canonically but only acts like an annoyed hot headed chihuahua to Dazai cause he annoys the shit out of him but also trusts him, so unless you annoy him like Dazai then he's the most loyal and trustworthy friend you can find and he loves hanging out with you. I feel like he's the type of friend to beat the shit out of someone who wronged you and offer to buy all your things and even if you say no several times he will buy it anyways, no repayments back.

'C' is for Cuddles (How would they cuddle?)

He likes to cuddle you like a teddy bear, just letting out all his stess out from the day and let exhaustion consume him while he's in your arms,he holds onto you tightly. I think he prefers to cuddle on top of you so he can embrace all of you and just keep his face in your chest or shoulders, embracing your scent that he cannot get enough of.

'D' is for Domestic (Everyday life with them, do they want to settle down?)

Unless you work in the Port Mafia you won't really be able to see him for hours on end, only before and after work or his day's off. He wakes up really early in the morning and cooks breakfast if you aren't awake, and let me tell you he's a fantastic cook. The evenings are more quiet and gentle, probably cuddling on the couch as you either watch tv or read a book as he drinks a nice glass of wine

I think he wants to settle down and spend his every day with you but realistically he can't unless he somehow retired from the mafia, which I don't think Mori will let happen :(

'E' is for Ending (If they had to break up with their partner)

If he had to break up with you it would be for your safety, dating a mafiaso is dangerous in general, dating a mafia executive is asking for a death wish. Your safety would be in absolute danger if any organisation or even Mori were to know you were close to Chuuya, who knows what they'd do to you if they had ill intentions. He'd talk to face to face about it, calm and collected even though his chest is aching at the thought of even doing this

'F' is for Fiance (How do they feel about commitment?)

If this a long term serious relationship the thought of marriage would come across his mind maybe a year or two in, when he realises he genuinely loves you and wants to spend all his waking hours with you. He would propose to you if your thoughts of marriage are positive and when he feels like the moment is right- unless you propose to him first, leaving him extremely flustered but he will instantly say yes

'H' is for Hugs (What are their hugs like?)

He likes hugs. He loves to wrap his arms around you and feel you close, doesn't matter if you're taller or shorter than him, he loves to bury his face into your neck and feel your warmth and he just loves it when you hug him back with your arms around him.

'G' is for Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He is very gentle with you physically, touching you as if you were a delicate flower, but there are times where he loses his patience. He tries his best to keep calm and collected but with the amount of stress he goes through and if tension arises he snaps. But he'll try to fix it if he genuinely upset you, he cares too much about you

'I' is for "I love you" (How fast do they say the L-word?)

This isn't a word he throws around carelessly, it's going to take him awhile till he says it and when he says it he means it.

'J' is for Jealous (How jealous do they get?)

He knows there's no need to be jealous since your his and he is yours but he can't help it if he sees someone get physically close to you with a flirtatious intentions, he will put his hand around your waist and pull you close to him, head on your shoulder as he asks "who's this darling?" Giving a quick peck on your neck and cheek, staring at the person with a menacing glare without your notice.

'K' is for Kisses (what are their kisses like?)

Every kiss he means it, often passionate and deep yet gentle. He loves feeling your lips on his and it's something he will never get tired. Wine and your lips are his favourite things.He likes to place soft kisses on your cheeks, neck, shoulders and the back of your hands. He loves every kiss you give him but he loves the one's where you unconsciously kiss his cheek, forehead or even his mouth with no thoughts in your head, just kissing him makes him feel all tingly inside

'L' is for Little one's (How are they around children?)

He is litterly the BEST with children! He knows how to deal with them and let them have fun, he'd be the best dad ever! The thought of having his own children comes into his head if he sees how you interact with children or just seeing your baby photos. He might bring it up in a late night conversation just to see how you feel about children and ask if you'd ever want children. I think he'd love to have children if he's in a good position but he also cares about your comfort and if this is something you want, since this a serious two person descion.

'M' is for Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Chuuya are calm but structured, if you aren't awake yet he'll cook you breakfast. I feel like he has a morning routine so he wakes up at the same time every day, though sleeping in for only an hour on days off. He has a skincare routine that he definitely does with you, how else is his skin so smooth?? Definitely works out too in the morning, he may look slim but he's definitely built.

'N' is for Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights after work are also calm (he's just a calm person to be around). He often comes home late or early even depending on how the mafia is doing, he'll call you if he's coming home late so you know he'd okay. When he's home your both eating dinner and filling each other in the on the day. I think he'd take a shower as fast as possible after dinner, he likes to keep himself clean, he prides in his skincare and haircare, genuinely dragging you into it too. After that he likes to relax with a glass of wine and do whatever before bed, he does go to bed at a certain time to get his eight hours

'O' is for Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves?)

He is simultaneously close to others yet at the same time he isn't. He will never reveal everything about himself, but what he does reveal will come when he is ready and feels secure enough to do so. He won't bring this up either if you never bring up a particular topic. He says a lot of things just because you ask.

'P' is for Patient (How easily angered are they?)

He tries his best to be patient with you, always taking into consideration of your feelings but the rare times if you're being unreasonable about something harmless and he's stressed he will snap but nothing that should lead into an extreme argument. He likes to solve things before they escalate

'Q' is for Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?)

He'll memorise every single thing about you, your likes,your dislikes, your behaviours, he remembers every single detail he seems nessecary which is all.

'R' is for Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favourite moment with you is the first time he kissed you, just seeing your face from his kiss made him grin. He was addicted to your lips from then on.

'S' is for Security (How protective are they?)

Chuuya is protective but will give you space if you need some, but if you feel bad or threatened, he will definately do something about it. Even unconsciously he's protective, as I said even in public he always has a hand on you and keeping you close.

'T' is for Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He may be severely busy but he is always trying, using his head to keep a balanced work life and personal life. Always planning free time with you and dates, constantly buying you gifts as if to compensate for the time he wasn't with you, he does it unconsciously I think. If you plan or gift something for him he will absolutely adore it

'U' is for Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

'V' is for Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

I think his worst habit is blowing up? To be honest I'm not really sure about this letter, I think he'd only snap at you specifically if he's stressed or really upset which isn't often, he likes to sort things out

If you don't like smoking that could be a problem, he only smokes to cool off when he's extremely under pressure but he'll try to quit if you really don't like it

This man is not leaving the house without looking perfect, as I said he has a strict skincare and haircare routine- and have you seen his outfit? He could litterly be a model

'W' is for Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Chuuya has experienced lost before and you certainly won't be the last, Though it leaves him devastated every time,Chuuya has learnt self-control to understand his loss and how he personally experiences grief, since he knows all too well how simple it is to lose people. He bears the weight of loss, yet it is loss that gives him motivation to move forward

'X' is for Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Let me just ramble about his ability real quick. If he wants to hide something from you, he'd use his gravity to hide it on high place that neither of you can reach, he'll use it to tease you if you don't have a nullification ability. If you ask he'd put you on the ceiling or just float in general, making sure to comfort you if you get scared or dizzy from blood rush.

'Y' is for Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Not being trusted back, he is loyal and trusts you so he would hope you would trust him back. Or someone who only sees him for his money as he's quiet loaded

'Z' is for Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He is a sound sleeper, just flat out exhausted one he lands on the mattress, he must get his eight hours worth of sleep. He weirdly sleeps like a mess yet somehow looks ethereal at the same time? He likes holding you close to feel you close and his body is extremely warm like a fire so that sucks during summer

Why is he literally the most perfect boyfriend ever???

#chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #chuuya x gn reader

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hoonvrs · 1 year

Text

NOONA — 48: the ‘picnic’ date (+written 0.4k)

the last thing you expected to see when you opened your door was a soaked sunghoon holding a basket.

before you could even get a word out he spoke, “it started raining half way here, now everything’s ruined.”

“quick come inside!” you leaned out for his arm, pulling him forwards inside the safety of your house away from the droplets, “can’t have you get sick on our first proper date.”

his dejection was evident in his posture, bangs covering half his face with his body slightly slouched. your surprised the basket is even still in his hands with how loosely he’s holding on to it.

you could see his t-shirt uncomfortably clinging onto his skin and his shorts starting to look ombre from the bottom being wet.

“doesn’t matter anyways, its all ruined.”

“look at me,” you cupped his face, forcing him to make eye contact, “nothings ruined okay.”

he huffed, looking everywhere else but at you, “yes it is. the rain is heavy and the park will be wet and i’m wet and-”

his words got caught in his throat, starting to sniffle as tears that lined his eyes start to fall as he tries to finish his sentence. arms coming up to wipe his tears with his sleeves whilst you stood there shocked.

you already knew sunghoon was a little sensitive and cried a lot, you just didn’t expect it now.

“baby,” you sighed, pulling him into a hug, nuzzling into your neck letting his sobs freely spill out, “fuck the park, we can still have our picnic right here. as long as you’re with me nothing is ruined.”

“i didn’t know you could be sentimental.”

“shut up,” you slapped his shoulder, making him laugh, still trying to wipe his face, “come on, ill go steal some of won’s clothes for you.”

what was once your living room was now a makeshift ‘park’. the couch was pushed to one side with the coffee table on another to make as much space in the middle as possible, going as far as laying down a checkered blanket beneath all the food to really tie it all together.

soon enough, sunghoon came in wearing a white t-shirt and sweats that were a little short on the ankle but he’ll make do, “don’t you look cute.”

“why is jungwon so short, my ankle feels naked,” he slowly sat down beside you as you continued to set up taking pictures ever few seconds.

“genetics, too bad. i did a good job right? were basically in the park right now.”

you looked at sunghoon who was still silent, seeing him on the verge of tears again, “hey, no crying. you’ve done enough for both of you.”

“i just feel bad. i had everything planned and i checked the weather app i swear i-”

you leaned forward, silencing him with your lips on his. no one double blame you, he just looked so cute with his eyes a little puffy and cheeks flushed.

“you talk too much.”

previous | m.list | next

S. NOTES: THEY HAVE KISSEEDKEKWKW

SYNOPSIS: park sunghoon experienced love at first sight when he first laid eyes on his friends older sister. a series of sunghoon desperately trying to do anything in his power to get the girl and yang jungwon cockblocking him for funsies.

TAGLIST (OPEN) @calijimenez @invusblog @astrae4 @lalalalawon @sserafimez @sfthyuka @miercerise @sasfransisco @annoyingbitch83 @pshchives @dazed-hee @sd211 @makiswrld @lovelypitasworld @kyuupidwrites @jangw2nyo @beansworldsstuff @shinrjj @mariji @shinsou-rii @curly-fr13s @homelycat @seungcheolswife @ilovewonyo @tinyegg @whippedforbeomgyu @adajoemaya @rikisly @sunoo-lvxr @strvlveera @myjaeyunn @meiiiwa @dazedgye @dimplewonie @sxftiell @plasmaticoo @iirene304 @captain-satan @pkjay @j-wyoung @diestheticu @chaeey @rodygr @enhy4me2 @officiallyjaehyuns @liliansun @the-poetic-side-of-me @jjangsims @dudufodd @heeswif3y @yawnzshit @4imhry @stinkoscope (bold couldn’t be tagged)

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antimony-medusa · 11 months

Text

So what kind of a dad is q!Phil anyways?

So, Phil getting Tallulah and Chayanne to wear armour and learn how to fight. Also Bad doing this with Dapper, and the Brazilians trying to do this with Richas, and the french with Pomme, but when it gets discussed, it's mostly focusing on Phil because of the contrast of Wilbur not wanting his kids to have to fight. There's some really fun discussion that comes up with that!

And the interesting thing is that when we're trying to pull up other cultural touchpoints to compare phil-and-fighting-and-the-kids to, a lot of the other characters have very specific vibes, so to speak. I was in a discussion the other day where someone compared Phil in this with the dad in Supernatural, and him getting his sons to follow him on hunts. Cause he's a dad training his kids to fight, right? From a very young age? However, I don't think this is a perfect comparison, and I wanted to share the one that comes to mind for me, despite the fact that it deals with some pretty dark topics. This whole post deals with some dark topics, you might want to check the tags, just so you know.

Anyways, I never watched Supernatural, so I didn't do much more than think emoji in the moment when this comparison came up. But I checked in with friends who have watched it, and I think Phil QSMP and John Winchester Supernatural are acting from some pretty different places. John Supernatural is teaching his kids to fight because they have a duty and a lineage and have to help save the world, but at the same time there's this tragedy there that implies that he's so focused on his duty as a hunter that he's not seeing that maybe you don't need the kids for that. They could start when they were older—or maybe they could not start this! He essentially conscripts them into a battle that shapes the course of their lives, as little warriors, and they never have a choice in it. And he's not above using them as bait, because they're warriors, right? The battle is so important? They want to be involved, they want this (of course they want this, you're their dad, and they believe you that this is important). He's a true believer.

Whereas Phil is faced with a world that actively and constantly wants to kill his kids, and he's trying to train them to defend themselves. He's trying to say that there's danger out there, you take care of yourself, I'm going to put myself on the line for you, but if I fail, if I'm not there, you won't be defenseless if it comes down to it. I have had my beef with fics that take on this topic, in fact, because I've seen people write Phil as using his kids as bait to get to the codes or forgetting his kids in his code battle, and that's not how I interpret the character motivattion and actions. For me, the way I see it, Phil is always thinking of how best to defend the eggs, and everything else is in service to this. He's a man with anxiety on an island that wants to kill his kids, not a warrior in an epic battle.

Does this mean that the eggs are gonna grow up and go to therapy about their childhood full of danger? Hell yeah they wll. This is not an ideal childhood. But— and this is the crucial thing— they're going to grow up. Same with Dapper, same with Richas, same with Pomme— living your life under constant need to teleport out to safety is bad, objectively, but when the alternative is living in the moment until you die, I think the teleporting out is better, actually.

And the comparison that comes to mind for me, because of my personal experience, is not examples in media of parents training their kids to fight, but examples in media or in real life of parents dealing with serious and or terminal illness in kids. Cause that's what my family did. And boy is there resonance there.

I don't know of any parent of a kid with cancer who likes putting their kid through treatment. Chemotherapy sucks, radiation sucks, surgery sucks, immunotherapy sucks, none of this is good. I have seen this tear up parents (and siblings) inside. But it's better than letting their kids DIE, isn't it? And before you say well, obviously everyone is on the same page when it comes to things like chemotherapy, I have *seen* people go out there and post at cancer families about how they can't believe they're putting poison in their children's bodies when they should just eat better, etc. (This take reminds me strongly of the "she shoudln't wear armour cause she shouldn't have to fight" take about Tallulah.) Serious illness in kids forces you into terrible situations, but the only saving grace is that they're better than the alternative, you hope.

The only thing that makes me go ehhhhh maybe with Phil and the Mr Supernatural is him letting Chayanne fight, but Chayanne is a kid being hunted whose sister (also being hunted) is disabled, and this happens whether or not Chayanne is involved, and he wants to try and defend her so bad. I don't think saying "let her die if necessary, don't intervene" is going to be a conversation that ends up with less trauma, if you know what I mean. That is simply a situation that has no real win conditions out of it. At least this way he feels like he has some control? (Note: this is a bad situation, there's no getting around it.)

QSMP is so often a story about forces beyond our control trying to destroy us, and while Supernatural and its ilk also has that tone, within Supernatural there's at least a population that doesn't have to be part of the battle, so opting into the battle becomes on some level a choice, and involving children in that is also a choice, one that you can hold up to the standards of allowing children to have a childhood and go "is this ethical". On Quesadilla island, there's literally no opting out of this fight. There are malevolent forces that are directly trying to destroy you, destroy your children, and the question of allowing children to have a childhood has been effectively taken out of your hands. You simply have to do the best with the situation you have, and have a birthday party while keeping the armour on. And this reminds me much more strongly of situations like childhood cancer, than it does of cases in media of people concripting their children into battle.

In both cases children are trying to fight malevolent entities that want them dead, as pushed to fight by their parents, but boy, at least to me, the tone is pretty different. I think the question of "is it self defense or did you choose to be here" is pretty important.

#cw child death #cw cancer #cw childhood cancer #cw child abuse #discourse #qsmp #philza #fandom meta #bad dad phil discussion

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wearyeyebrow · 1 year

Text

Pride and Shame

Summary: Beel tells you of an afternoon yelling match between Belphegor and Lucifer. While Belphie plans his revenge, you notice that Lucifer has skipped dinner.

Tags: Hurt/comfort, Lucifer x MC, SFW

Lucifer stands just outside your bedroom door, poised to knock, but even still he hesitates.

He almost turns on his heel just as the door creaks open. There you are, dressed down for the evening, in comfy clothes, looking surprised to see him.

“If you’re busy I can come back another time.” He isn’t about to make a nuisance of himself.

“No, no I was just about to come to you - I didn’t see you at dinner.” You frown, and he’s torn between the feelings of ease and discomfort.

“I had work to finish.”

“That may be so, but you should at least have something to eat. Come in - please.” You open the door wide for him and yet he hesitates.

“Lucifer?”

Before he can think too hard about it he crosses the threshold, immediately warmed by the atmosphere of your room.

He eyes your textbooks sprawled all over the floor. “Were you studying?”

“Something like that,” you sigh. “Solomon has me on a wild goose chase, all for a special ingredient. I know he knows what I’m supposed to be looking for, but all he’ll give me are cryptic hints. I’ll probably be here all night…” You plop down on the plush carpet, sitting cross legged. You pat the ground beside you and motion for him to sit.

“Would you like some help?”

“I mean yes, I would, but I shouldn’t.” You sigh and run a hand through your hair. “I would love a break though - tell me about your day.”

“My day?” Lucifer settles in, resting his back against the frame of your bed. He straightens the crease of his pant leg. “It’s all very boring, really. My next week is booked solid so I’m trying to finish as much groundwork as I can now. Most of the day was spent signing my name.”

‘Mm, how delightful.” You drawl.

“Indeed.”

He’s quiet, as if that’s all he came for. He can feel your expectant stare and it irks him.

“So I… I may have heard about something that happened from Beel.”

Lucifer sighs, “Yes, what of it?”

“What happened?”

“Didn’t Beel tell you?”

“He told me parts of it, yes… I’m unfamiliar with the other layers of hell. Why did Belphie want to go to the sixth?”

“Because he’s an imbecile, that’s why.” Lucifer rolls his eyes, “Because he has no regard for his or Beel’s safety, because he lives to give me trouble. I had to reason their lives out of the Hands of Ill Temper. I just barely managed by the skin of my teeth.”

“What was Belphie after?”

“I don’t know and I don’t particularly care to know. He shouldn’t have gone in the first place. He has no excuse, leaving me to clean up their messes, putting Beel’s life in danger. Again.” Lucifer needs to move, to pace, something - everything in him itches. He settles on adjusting his socks.

“You really chewed them out, huh.”

“Naturally,” he huffs, “How else will they learn?”

“...Belphie said something else, didn’t he?”

Lucifer stiffens. “It doesn’t matter.”

‘Are you sure?”

Lucifer would rather forget it. He would rather skip dinner and continue working, pen scratching on paper, waiting for the memory to subside. But it never does, it just replays over and over again.

“Belphie, that’s not true, Lucifer doesn’t-”

“Why are you so upset anyway? I assumed you’d want us dead, since we cause you so much trouble. I’d be doing you a favor-”

“Oh doesn’t he? Look - he won’t even deny it, and now he’s just walking away - fucking evil bastard.”

With a click Lucifer had closed the door to his study, put on a cursed record, and refilled his inkwell. Hours of ruminating did nothing. Hours of work did nothing. Now he’s here. What is he doing here? Why did he stop by your door on his way to look for table scraps like a dog? What is wrong with him?

“It… doesn’t matter.” He should leave.

“I think it’s eating you.” He says nothing. “I think that talking about it might help.”

“What is there to talk about?” He bites.“They were reckless. This is nothing new. I reminded them of their own stupidity and Belphie retaliated. Again, nothing new.”

“But… something still bothers you.”

Lucifer clears his throat. “Belphie put both himself and Beel in danger chasing some whim. They could have been imprisoned, they could have been killed for their transgressions - that’s what bothered me, and now it’s finished.”

“I assumed you’d want us dead, since we cause you so much trouble.”

“Is that all that bothers you?” When did you get so close to him? He can feel your softness resting against his side.

“What else would?” Your gentle hand tugs at his glove, taking one off and then the other. This perplexes him but he can’t find it in him to stop you.

“What he said, you know, about you wanting him dead?”

“Nonsense. He was angry.”

“Beel was worried.” Beel was? Lucifer turns to look at you. “That’s why he told me about what Belphie said.”

He sighs. “If… If Belphegor is angry with me, let him be angry. It doesn’t change how I think about the situation.”

“Lucifer.” Suddenly your too steady gaze is fixated on him. “You can deny it all you want, but I… it’s clearly still eating you.” Lucifer’s brow furrows - how dare you assume? As if you’ve read his mind, you clarify. “I know I’m being presumptuous, I know, but please - it hurts you, doesn’t it?”

“Let it.” What is he saying? “Let it hurt. Whatever it takes. He can’t go down there again.”

“But doesn’t it matter that it hurts you?”

“Why should it?” He’s of two minds, one that desperately wants to talk to you, the other screaming at him, a cacophony of voices, pushing it down, down.

“It’s just me, Lucifer.” He feels the comforting warmth of your human hands in his, of your body just barely touching his side. Your room smells like you. The door is locked. It’s after midnight, and the house is quiet.

“I think…” Lucifer swallows, “I think I…

If he could crawl inside you he would. If he could speak directly to your mind he would, spilling his innermost thoughts and feelings without having to say them out loud. He gags on the words, as if once he starts they won’t stop.

This is what it means to be your friend, to be your partner, his mind desperately reasons. How can he fit vulnerability into an acceptable narrative?

He still can’t look at you. "I think I... I was afraid. If they aren't - if I can't be there, if I can't keep them in line, what's stopping the world from-" his eyes water and he blinks rapidly, head tilted back staring at the ceiling. "If he needs to assume that I hate him, if that's what it will take, then so be it."

"Lucifer, sweetheart-"

He sucks in a rattled breath. You can’t speak to him like that, not when he’s at his lowest. He doesn’t need your saccharine tone because he’s better than this, better than comfort or mistakes. Yet here you are, on the floor at midnight, speaking with such kindness and understanding. It’s because you’re an exception to his inner monologue of rules that his brain finally quiets like an oil lamp snuffed out.

"Is that what you want?"

"Of course not, but-"

"I know you’re willing to play the villain if it’ll keep them safe. I mean, you've done it before, for entirely too long. But remember what happened when you were honest? Things got better. Belphie came around and I finally understood you."

He scoffs. "It was a catastrophic failure - any good that came of it was all your doing-"

“Don’t I?”

"We've all come a long way together. It doesn't have to be this way. I truly believe it doesn't, things have already changed.” You plead with him. “Habits are hard to break. I know that Belphie was hurting when he said that, but you don't deserve to hurt like this either, Lucifer." He can't look you in the eye. "Hey," you continue gently, softly, "you don't, truly."

“No. They don’t and you don’t.”

He looks up at the ceiling again.

"I'm here because you don’t have to handle it alone." You murmur. “Because I care about you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Too late.” You lean over him and place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He swallows, blinking rapidly, and gathers you in his arms to place a fierce kiss to your temple. He wraps himself around you, all at once too separate from everything you are. The noise quiets when you move to hold him instead. Your arms wrap around him, and after everything he’s done to you, he doesn’t deserve you in his life like this, in love with what little good remains in him. But, he supposes, his pride as a demon will make space for you, and for that he is grateful.

"Thank you," he croaks, "for choosing to speak with me."

"That’s what I’m here for, dummy.”

“You’re meant for so much more than that.”

“I just think…” you kiss the crown of his head, “that I’m meant for whatever I want, and I want to figure this out with you.”

Lucifer closes his eyes in the quiet darkness of your arms. You are a gentle reprieve to whatever remains of his soul.

#lucifer obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me lucifer x reader #wearyeyebrow #my writing

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aztarion · 2 months

Note

Hiii omg its so good to see a fellow book of hungry names enjoyer out there.... i was wondering if u managed to get sex scenes with podge ingame? Bcuz I've seen people mention it's possible and ever since then I have been desperately trying to no avail 😩 it's cool if you didn't, just thought i'd shoot my shot (also im literally obsessed with your art its so good)

omg HIIIIII thank you 😭 i actually look cuckoo bananas in the tag but it & night road reignited my love for world of darkness so idc lmao

anyway shitty diy romance guide under the cut

including other companions bc ive seen ppl have problems hooking up with melodie too but there is/was a podge-specific bug ill get to after the general stuff. disclaimer first tho english is not my native language & i dont play on steam so cant code dive properly BUT essentially:

podge, elton & melodie’s routes require some initial investment in charisma—not a lot (2 dots is fine) but the higher ur charisma the higher the modifier will be during romance checks, which will help you pass even if your relationship score with them isnt the best/mid range 2/3 dots. in the same vein some of the convictions your character can have also act as modifiers. what ive been able to piece together is that:

melodie likes when you uphold & respect the litany/tradition & the three families, but keep humans/nomi at a distance or out of the picture entirely for their own safety

elton likes when you maintain dignity in your situations, are logical/calculative making decisions & successful in your chosen means to an end (failing rolls is swagless behavior he will judge you)

podge likes when you weaponize your Rage—not necessarily escalating everything to violence (but it is a fair bit of that lmao) but in terms of like challenging the litany/tradition/authority, protecting the weak/disadvantaged

nin likes when you remain level-headed/composed, keep an open mind, respect her as a person/don’t treat her different as a wolfborn, utilize & accept your spiritual third as garou—recognize that cultivating gaia with kindness & hope are as important as protecting her with teeth & claws

TLDR for best relationship modifiers:

Elton: 2 or more dots in Charisma, high Find Purpose Through Dignity conviction

Melodie: 2 or more dots in Charisma, high The Litany Sustains Us conviction

Podge: 2 or more dots in Charisma, high Our Weapon Is Rage conviction

Nin: 2 or more dots in Composure, high Our Answer Is Spirit conviction

so the issue with podge’s route from what i can tell was a coding error that has since been fixed by kyle, basically during the first date most people opt to kiss podge back, which obviously boosts your romance score but at that point in time it boosted it past the threshold check for the sex scene & locked you out of it for both opportunities LOL. this is no longer the case but if your game hasn’t updated since May (not on version: 52507) you will have to play hard to get with podge (dont kiss him back) or your ass is NAWT getting dicked down later. all other scenes proceeds as normal tho

hopefully this helps!! im currently (slowly) playing thru again testing more stuff so i might update this or make a more detailed cleaner post in the future ^^

#ask #book of hungry names #im gonna put it in the tag bc i know ppl on Reddit & cog forums have lost their minds #AND SORRY FOR FORMAT IM HALF ASLEEP

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mossmotif · 1 year

Text

RINGS AND CROWNS

✿ ao3 ✿ prince!gojo/stable hand!reader summary: You leave many things unsaid when it comes to your own feelings, so much so that the action comes easily even with the person who has grown closest to you. Perhaps an ill-timed joke is what will push you to work towards healthier things. tags: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Reader is a Stable Hand, King Gojo Satoru, Non confessional confessions, it makes sense I promise, touch as a love language, Fluff, Feelings, Not Beta Read notes: HI!! you guys have no clue how fun this was to write, i really do hope its enjoyable!! also, if anyone is interested i do have a very small scrapped scene from this that i may post on here. anyway, feel free to leave any comments and thanks for reading xx

When Satoru first fakes a proposal to you, you had felt a dangerous uncertainty for the first time in years. The passing joke left you feeling oddly wound up. The horses even seemed to sense your change in mood—the stiffness of your hands—when Satoru ushered out in a hurry you chose not to notice. His white hair disappeared behind century old wood like a sign for you to call after, but you didn’t. His crown was blinding underneath the setting sun, like an aggressive lighthouse.

He had no ring, only his words and convincing grin. You were laughing at first, at the way he bent at the knee and professed his love for you, how he had loved you since you were both small children, even though neither of you had met each other until late childhood. Then he grabbed your hands, and for a split second you imagined him younger and with a paper crown dawning his head; you’re sure he would run through the woods in confidence with his faux sword and shield. You’re sure that he dreamt of being a knight before the people around him had told him that was wrong.

And maybe the thought (the touch) changed the safety of your expression. It formed into something much too soft for him to handle.

You caught yourself, your mind nearly splitting when you shook your head and mustered a smile that fit his. “You’re making a fool of yourself, Satoru.”

He laughed. He got up. Your breath may have been shaky when he finally let go of your hands.

Grooming the horse does not come back to you as naturally as it should once you finish remembering the memory. You aren’t exactly sure why it continues to haunt you, your mind riddled with him as something other than what he was. The idea itself should have been laughable because his place in your life is nothing but secure; and yet you’d failed to when the time came.

You imagine him: intertwined hands, quiet conversations, and whispered promises. The borderline fantasizing has you spinning in circles. It’s as if your maturity is ripped away from your hands. You push through your days like a clumsy dancer: catching your feet against tall blades of grass, focusing on the sky to keep from getting too dizzy and with your arms clenched tightly to your chest. Never reaching.

────── 〔✿〕──────

Spring is in full swing and the horses can finally graze along the new grass. You watch them diligently, keeping a time in the back of your mind. It’s a good distraction from the feeling of Satoru’s hand picking at the grass so close to yours. Every once in a while his pinky will jut out while yanking at roots and graze against yours. You’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to try and spur something out of you.

The afternoon breeze carried his voice, making it sound gentle, a little tired. “I think I’ve finally found something I’m no good at.”

You hum in response, still looking ahead at the horses. Most of them have stopped grazing by now, copying the two of you and laying in the grass to bask in the sun.

Satoru's hand brushes against yours again. You could easily mistake it as him reaching out.

You bite back a smile that would be too telling and turn to see him. The sight is ridiculous: a king trading his beautiful golden crown for one that’s been crudely made. He’s overly concentrated on the task, the tips of his fingers are beginning to tinge green.

The crown is misshapen, bulging at some curves and concaving at others. Some of the stems are too loose to hold themselves together, fraying at all ends and tainting any sort of cohesive look Satoru was trying to achieve. It isn’t delicate or anything relatively close to pretty, but he holds it as if it were his actual crown.

“It isn’t so bad,” you say. It really is your honest thought.

Satoru brightens considerably, a proud grin overtaking him at your light praise.

“People really are wrong when they say flattery will get you nowhere,” he sings. You want to tell him it isn’t flattery, that anything he holds will be beautiful, but your breath is punched out of you when he leans further into your space fluidly. “You haven’t made anything.”

“I didn’t know you wanted me to.” You peer down at him delicately, drinking in the look of the golden sun on his cheeks.

If clarity were human, you think he would go by a different name; and maybe he would look at you more than you let yourself think. Maybe the both of you think of different things in the same way.

“Should have known to read my mind then.” Satoru raises his head to look at you, gesturing to the creation on the floor. “How many of these have you made? I bet thousands.”

You shake your head, as if to push away nostalgia, “I only knew how to make flower rings.”

Tiny, little things meant to fit onto chubby fingers. Strong enough to withstand the clench of a fist and a pinky promise and the tight clasping of hands. You cannot remember the face of the last person you gave one to. Your hands used to be so much softer. It felt safer to make them before, it felt safer to grab another person’s hand and have them wear it with a smile. The interaction was pure, childish, and everything was meant to be; the two of you are missing teeth and then fall into the grass after spinning for too long. Maybe they lose the ring and ask you to make another, and that is meant to happen too, because the grass is still there and children still like to spin and fall.

“Crowns are like bigger rings,” Satoru notes.

You chuckle, imagining someone with a band large enough to fit around their arm. “And rings are like smaller crowns.”

Satoru’s smile is dangerous this close, too similar to stunning. His charm is hard to deflect when it begins to seep into your skin; like the sun, like seeing the world again with a friend. How many times has it felt this way? His hands are larger than yours now, he’s taller, his voice is fuller. Satoru sits next to you to enjoy an afternoon just like he had when he first came into the stables completely drenched in mud, but he’s so different.

“So, which will it be?” he asks. “Ring or crown?”

You snort, watching the way his eyes widen amusedly at the sound. He’s trying to be serious, but he’s smiling too much.

“What?” he asks through a laugh. “I’m sure if you pick the crown that the council can figure something out for you. We could have a ball for your coronation.”

“Could we dance?” you ask.

A hand is next to yours again, this time too firm to pass away as anything else. Clarity. Maturity has never been lost to you. Rather, a resemblance of what you have lost has been staring you in the face for years, laughing with you, laying by your side in green fields, and reminding you of forgotten things.

“It wouldn’t be a memorable ball without dancing would it?” He raises an eyebrow. “Assuming you do know how to dance.”

You only return his taunt with a scoff. “And if I pick the ring?” you question.

One of the horses sighs when another moves to sit next to it. The grass rustles and flattens under the weight of their hooves. The interaction tears your attention away from Satoru knowingly, you let it happen, feeling your question hanging in the air; like Satoru’s holding it up to the sun in order to get a better look. Would that look beautiful too?

Everything becomes so loud, so bright, when Satoru’s hand finally makes its way to yours. And for a split second, you think of returning to distance, reverting to the roles of ground and sky, separate and only gazing. But for once, you’d like the sky to crash into you.

“Would it not be the same thing?” he finally answers. “Rings are crowns and crowns are rings.”

You consider his response, bringing your free hand up to your face, trying to cool the rising heat pooling there.

“You stole my line,” you accuse.

“I came up with the last half!” he defends. “We’ll call it a group effort if it’s ever published in a book of sayings.”

You sigh, pretending to consider the offer. “That was uncharacteristically fair of you, Satoru.” The sentence comes out quietly as Satoru laces his fingers between yours smoothly, like they belonged there.

He scoffs, as if offended by the comment. “Of course. You’re king is kind, you know.”

You feel him frowning but know it is nowhere close to being genuine. The hand that has laced its way into yours is warm and relieved and content. The crown Satoru fabricated lies between the two of you, exactly how it was meant to be.

#yes i made this a series !!#there isn't really a timeline at the moment but im keeping that kind of flow bcs so far its been v enjoyable #guys hes all im thinking about u dont understand #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #moss writes

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