#collecting their sentimental lines like pretty rocks

[broh3m3]

Kalim's tsum vignette was fun (I lost my mind multiple times)

[shefanispeculator]

I saw this on ATRL!

1. "Somebody Else's": We all know this song and it is definitely a great one! It feels like a proper album opener and the lyrics are pretty solid. 8/10

2. "Bouquet": Well, well, the title track. It features an overarching theme of growth using lyrics like "Clouds are like miracles / Appearin' overhead, but raining when you need some peace" and "You go on pickin' the petals and I'll just smile". Basically it's about coming with terms the fact is that you might not need someone to make you happy and it's better if you go your separate ways becuase she doesn't need a bouquet. Sonically, it's similar to "Somebody Else's" but features more prominent bass. 7.5/10

3. "Pretty": Whew!!! The lyrics on this one are a DAMN SERVE!! "Memories are sentimental 'cause we're not who we used to be / Sometimes you lose, sometimes you weep as it creeps / Through the backyards on common ground, we do not stand / Oh my, there is coincidence and then there is circumstance". It has a certain groove to it but it also sounds kinda dark and myserteous (?)! This is for sure one of my favorites on the record. 9.5/10

4. "Empty Vase": Mmm... I understand the concept, but like, I find this song to be a bit boring, truth be told. It's entirely built off of acoustic guitar—which is fine—but it sort of goes nowhere. Also, the outro will definitely catch you off guard the first time because she starts whispering and it's very intimate. 7/10

5. "Marigolds": Okay, VOCALS!!!! She is singing her a*s off here, especially in the final chorus. "Watch me die a little bit each time I come alive". This could have used a bridge but it's one of the tracks that stands out sonically. It's almost reggae but also kind of punk-ish at the same time. 8/10

6. "Late To Bloom": I truly appreciate Gwen diving into the subject matters she does on the song. It's basically about it being too late to realize what you had and/or being emotionally mature enough to fully appreciate someone, but they're already gone. "Maybe I'll see you in the next lifetime, maybe I won't / But first a little pit stop to catch a few rays of sunshine / I say see you at noon, but I'm always late to bloom". The production here is very Rock Steady No Doubt vibes. A highlight! 9/10

7. "Swallow My Tears": So, she posted a snippet of this on her social media and I honestly think she's kinda deceiving y'all. The song builds throughout, and at the final chorus, there's a "drop" with full on production that's comparable to "Guilty as Sin?" by Taylor Swift. It is a bit repetitive, but the bridge is one of the best moments on the album; she kind of sounds chaotic, but like panicked too, and it works ssooo well. 8.5/10

8. "Reminders": For sure, this is the most sentimental song on the album. It's got this early 2000's acoustic pop ballad vibe to it (think Nelly Furtado or even "Don't Speak" by No Doubt themselves). "I saved you a seat / Just like how you gave my heart a beat". 8/10

9. "All Your Fault": Well, if you like "Naughty" from This Is What the Truth Feels Like, you'll enjoy this. It has a very similar vocal style and even some quirky-ish lyrics. I am surprised Diane Warren wrote this one by herself because there are most definitely some signature Stefani lines in here like "Was pretty sure I ran out of power / But you got me lit every single hour" and "And I'll never be the same / Won't catch me taking the blame / Ahhh, it's all your fault!". Overall, I think this is a fun track but it's placement on the album is odd. 7.5/10

10. "Purple Irises" (featuring Blake Shelton): I suppose this works as a closer, but it feels a bit like an afterthought.... Truly, the song itself is fine but I believe it's supposed to make you feel nostalgic and I just feel relief (?). Maybe that's just me, who knows. 7.5/10

As a whole, I believe Bouquet is a pretty strong body of work by Gwen Stefani. It's a confident, self-assured put together collection of 10 nice tracks. I know I'm in the minority here but I still believe This Is What the Truth Feels Like is her strongest album to-date. But for those looking for something completely different, Bouquet is for you, bar elements of "All Your Fault". This album feels like it will age really well over time and I hope we get another No Doubt album in the feature because this is absolutely the closest we have gotten to one as a solo Gwen project.

[abbacchiosbelt]

cw: pregnancy, tooth-rotting fluff. much softer than my usual stuff, but this idea got stuck in my brain. diluc ragnvindr x wife!reader. sfw.

diluc is not outwardly sentimental - at least, he gives off that impression to those not in his inner circle. those closest to him though — you, his beloved wife, adelinde, and even kaeya — know the truth. dawn winery is full of trinkets and objects that once belonged to his father and mother, and his desks are stuffed full of small mementos.

if one were to open his personal desk, they may find a pressed flower from you, a particularly pretty rock from razor that'd he shyly given diluc, a cocktail napkin from the cat's tail that diona had drawn an angry face on... little things, that remind him of mondstadt's good. things that remind him of his humanity. and there are big things, too. the paintings that his father painted for his mother still fill the walls of the winery... and even that hideous vase kaeya bought him. oh, diluc complains about it, but he'd never get rid of it.

the moment diluc hears about the kamera, he knows he has to have one. to be able to remember such precious things with a picture instead of his memory, which could warp and distort things over time... it's the perfect tool for a man like diluc. he'll feign nonchalance about the whole thing, but he's first in line to receive one. of course, as the owner of dawn winery, the company in fontaine that produces kameras is practically shoving it into his hands.

there's one specific reason why diluc is so anxious to get a kamera.

you, his darling wife, are pregnant. diluc had been beyond words when you'd told him - a mix of overwhelming love and fear had shocked him quiet. his urge to protect you grew tenfold, and his love for you grew even deeper. of course, diluc was hellbent on taking care of you in every conceivable way. it wasn't enough for him, though. he wanted to be able to remember these moments vividly, to keep them locked securely in his heart. and diluc wanted to keep the memory of you, round belly and glowing face, as pristine as possible. you were beautiful beyond words.

so, when you find yourself being led outside by an excited diluc (muted as he may be around others, his excitement over your pregnancy had led him to be more open than usual), you have no idea what to expect. adelinde had delivered you a pretty, hand-sewn dress that diluc had made for you. it fit you perfectly - gauzy and loose while framing your pregnant belly. it was comfy, too.

diluc leads you to a particularly scenic area, and in front of you stands a strange machine, propped up by another device.

'honey?' you ask, confused but happy to go along with whatever diluc had planned. he smiles at you, soft, and explains what the machine is. a photograph... how novel, and how very like diluc to be interested, you think to yourself. he arranges the two of you in position so that the kamera will catch everything. the kamera had a mode to take several pictures at once without someone behind it, so you wait patiently while diluc sets it up and rushes back for the incoming photos.

diluc's smiling face, his hand resting gently on your belly, while you look at him lovingly. a picture of diluc kissing your cheek, sly expression hidden behind his flaming red hair. a picture of diluc knelt on the ground beside you, his expression reverent as he looks up at you, head resting against your stomach.

each photo is printed in succession, and when the kamera stops taking photos, diluc goes over to carefully collect them from the machine. they had come out perfectly, only a couple in the set ending up blurry.

when you wake up after an afternoon nap, you're not surprised to see the pictures hung up around the winery's top floor. when you go to find diluc in his office, you see him holding the photo of him knelt by your belly in his hand, a smile on his lips.

oh, diluc could pretend he wasn't sentimental all he wanted, but the photo he held tight in his hands proved otherwise.

[adastrael]

Cod: mw ii characters and things they collect (pt.2)

Character(s): alejandro vargas, rodolfo "rudy" parra, valeria garza, kim "horangi" hong-jin, könig

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: mentions of gambling and anxiety

A/N: the second chapter is finally here! Hope you enjoy, as usual, don't be too afraid to share your thoughts :D

Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro is a sentimental man without a doubt, someone who likes to remember as much as he can from his past — be it the good or bad. A habit he has learned from his father when he was younger was purchasing a postcard and a coin or bill of the local currency whenever they visited foreign countries. It didn't happen often unfortunately, so this goal was a little difficult to accomplish, but with the years spent in the military and now as a Colonel, he gets more opportunities to visit places he has never been before. To this day, he still gets a card from every new city he goes to as a memory that he was there once.

Some things that tie back into his sentimental nature are the photographs he keeps. There is a box in his office back at home, heavy from all the pictures he has stacked into the available space. Some of them are very old, paper faded and jagged, but the people on them are still recognizable. These are from his younger years, a few go back even as far in time where he only just started hanging out with Rodolfo. Others are still shiny and new, a few even have that fresh scent the paper acquires when the picture is made. These are mostly of the team, 141 and other seemingly random sights Alejandro felt worthy enough to capture (this man is a sucker for sunsets, you can't change my mind).

Alejandro has a few keychains he has received during the years, mostly from distant relatives or members of Los Vaqueros. The key to his front door contains 90% of them, although he doesn't like when there are too many weights next to such important objects. His favorite is undeniably the little cowboy hat they bought together with Rudy once, just after Los Vaqueros became an official thing. It never fails to make him smile, and he has a saying that goes along the lines of "As long as I have this, Los Vaqueros will be a thing."

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

As a kid, Rodolfo was always looking for little trinkets to keep. From seashells, rocks, feathers and pretty leaves, if something caught his attention, it was going home with him in his pocket. His favorites were undeniably rocks though; there are still quite a lot of them he has kept from all the years and refuses to get rid of for one reason or another. As Alejandro teased him before, Rudy is like a crow in this regard — although it's not shiny things he collects, just rocks he finds fitting to join his heap.

Something that has always fascinated him was lego sets. As a kid he didn't have the chance to own any, but now that he has a healthy paycheck, nothing is stopping him from purchasing different sets for his own birthday and similar occasions. The model he loves the most is probably the Great Pyramid of Giza, which he built in a single afternoon when he was on medical leave once. Although most of them don't have enough space in his house, his favorite ones are displayed somewhere: either on his office table, or on a shelf in one of the rooms.

There is a habit he couldn't stop ever since he was little, but didn't really want to either to be fair. Like most kids, Rodolfo enjoyed getting stickers and sticking them somewhere he found fit, even when someone told him no. As he grew older, he didn't want to waste them anymore, knowing he wouldn't be able to make use of them again once you plastered them on a surface. That was the start of his collection — ever since, he doesn't like the idea of putting them anywhere, only collecting all the stickers he gets in one big folder. He gets way too emotionally attached to most of them and he knows, but Rodolfo tries his best. Besides, we all need something to be passionate about besides work, don't we?

Plus fun fact: Rudy often gifts his friends and family stickers. At first, most found it confusing and unnecessary, but now everyone just finds it adorable and thanks him earnestly when they receive any. It's an ongoing joke between the Vaqueros that you will know the Sergeant Major likes you if he gives you stickers. Not to mention, they consider you family and part of the team once you receive any. It's really great.

Valeria Garza

It's no secret that Valeria enjoys painting her nails; the brighter and more feminine, the better. During the years, she unintentionally started collecting nail polishes as one does: if she saw a color she liked, it was bought with little to no hesitation, no matter how many bottles she already had at home. Valeria makes good use of all of them though, her nails are always nicely done and the colors change almost week after week.

Valeria couldn't deny her love for house plants even if she tried. She would never let her men see the plant mom side of her, but Alejandro and Rodolfo had the chance to witness her home. The living room is filled with greens: different, often hand painted vases on the shelves, tall houseplants in front of the big windows and even some vine-like plants curling over her walls. She makes sure not to overdo them, but every room that isn't her bedroom has at least one little flower.

Something that understandably makes her even more intimidating is her enthusiasm for swords. Don't get the wrong idea, she can't handle one and isn't overly tempted to learn either, but she loves their beauty all the same. One of the rooms in her house is kind of like a calming area, her favorite plants, furniture and pictures all gathered in the same place. Above the door, there is a hanger with a sword replica on top of it, but it's only noticeable when you actually look for it. If she could, Valeria would buy a few real ones, but she doesn't see the need for them, above the fact that they look good and bring her some joy. In the future, she just might learn their tricks however.

Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin

It might be ironic considering his unlucky history with gambling, but Horangi likes to collect special and unique looking game tokens. Under this category he will never consider the non-physical ones like crypto and such, in-game ones are those he loves, the ones that are actually collectable. It's no surprise that poker tokens are his favorite to look for, there are even one or two custom made ones he has gotten as a gift from friends (König and other KorTac members). He won't ever consider getting back into gambling because he has learned his lesson, but it doesn't hurt to collect unique items related to the hobby.

Another thing that keeps him connected to games are cards. Sure, he's especially awful at card games, but there are a few decks that caught his eye during the years and just couldn't resist to leave. One of his biggest prizes is a deck with completely black cards that glow in the dark, and the numbers and designs are only visible then.

Call him a poser, but Horangi loves sunglasses. Of course, during missions he can't always wear them, but around base and usually even at home, there is one hiding his eyes from curious looks. It became a comfort thing very quickly for him, so the reason why he wears them everywhere isn't purely fashion motivated (honestly, none at all, only just when he is out as a civilian). Horangi doesn't own that many pairs, maybe around six or seven, and like three of them are regular black ones, but the rest are different; they help him blend in, not to mention that a few of them match his everyday clothes and just spice his outfits up a little.

König

As a kid, König loved reading comic books, especially if they were superhero ones. It isn't necessary to say he collected them, but the amount of stacks he used to have in his room would surely qualify as such. Financially, he wasn't much to deal with as a kid; he ate a lot, sure, and new clothes were constantly needed because of his fast growth, but he never asked for anything from his parents, only new comic books to read through. Most of them are still hidden somewhere in his childhood room, and one day he's sure to read them all over again when he has the time.

Another habit he started as a kid and somehow never really grew out of is collecting dinosaur figures. Don't think about the big ones people usually put on shelves as decoration, König was always enthusiastic about the small ones that came in packages, multiple dinos in one. He used to have a dinosaur phase back in grade school, and if you ask him about a species, he can probably still ramble about the topic for hours to no end.

Something that might seem a little strange to others, but is totally usual for him is the pocket sized magnets he carries with himself. König generally fidgets a lot, either from anxiety or just absently while thinking or doing something else, and magnets are easy and satisfying to connect and pull apart. The fact that he likes the noise doesn't hurt either, it usually helps him focus on the task at hand.

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

ROTTMNT Headcanons: I finally finished moving so y’all get me back

Here’s how I think the family would react to moving (cause I have no imagination) 

April: would try to hide how much the move affects her 

She would move all her stuff out of her old apartment the second she got the keys 

And she would unpack the second she gets into the new place 

She would also throw a housewarming party/multiple sleepovers so she doesn’t feel so alone 

The boys have moved a lot but some handle it better than others 

Raph: would try to stay strong for his siblings 

He would try to stay optimistic and help his siblings plan out their rooms 

But he is a very emotional and sentimental person 

So the second they get to the new place he’s bawling like a baby 

And it takes him a long time to get adjusted to the new place 

Leo: would handle the move the best 

Even though he’s a sentimental person he’s also a firm believer that home is not a place it’s the people he surrounds himself with 

He also thrives under pressure and craves change 

He makes an internal schedule so the moving process is swift and efficient 

But he also gives his siblings just enough time to grieve 

Donnie: handles change the absolute worst 

At first, he would refuse to move and he would make a whole PowerPoint presentation about how their home is just fine the way it is

And when he realizes it doesn't matter what he says they’re still going to move so he shuts down 

His siblings pester him to help 

He’ll try to pack and unpack but he kind of gets in the way cause he’s stuck in his head 

Casey: is right alongside Donnie 

He fucking hates moving it reminds him of the future 

The family tries to give him some stability but they also know they can’t stay stagnant forever 

Unlike Donnie, Casey is really helpful during the moving process but he does mope during the entire process 

Mikey: it really depends 

Like Leo, he loves change and hates staying in one place for too long 

But the second he notices how it’s affecting his siblings he starts getting sad too 

April Leo and Mikey try to cheer the group up and sometimes it works and sometimes they let their siblings go through the cycle of grieving the past 

So Leo has a lucky rock in “air turtle” and has enough rocks on him to replace his siblings in “flushed but never forgotten” 

He definitely has a rock and crystal collection 

He gave them all black tourmaline, and amethyst after season 2 for protection and to help with grief 

He gave April citrine for good luck 

Raph got a Rose Quartz to help with his anxiety (and to improve his self-love) 

Donnie gets a Pyrite to help cleans him of all the bad juju technology brings 

Casey gets Hematite to help ground him

Mikey gets Carnelian to boost his creativity 

And there are times when Leo will force the whole group to stop because he saw a sick ass rock on the sidewalk 

Donnie has gotten into serious arguments that go something along the lines of “no Leo I won't stop the tank so you can go get a dirty disgusting rock off the side of the road I’ve already done that three times today”

So it’s pretty obvious that Leo will say random shit in Spanish every once and a while 

And I was thinking “the boys definitely copy that right?” 

Like every once in a while you just hear Raph go “dónde está my wallet?”

And sometimes Mikey will say shit like “he’s a little… cómo se dice insane in the membrane” 

Donnie also has a terrible habit of yelling “WHAT?” When he can’t hear someone 

And it annoys the shit out of Splinter 

He always tells him “don’t yell ‘what’ that’s rude” 

So he yells “QUÉ?” Instead (cause he’s technically not saying what)

Leo also has a tough time saying “I love you” 

And for some reason saying it in Spanish is easier (probably cause he was under the assumption that his siblings didn’t know what it meant)

So he always ends the conversation with “te amo” no matter how pissed he is 

And it wasn’t until his siblings responded with “te amo más” that he realized they knew what he meant this whole time 

And he’s weirdly okay with that

[kaijugroupy]

hello! my name is damian-cupid or dc and I’m a 25 year old lesbian/butch-dyke

my pronouns: I go by he/him. I’m neutral towards they/them but will not be addressed as she/her. I like he/him the best because it aligns with my perception of myself and how I seek to be perceived by others. I’m weirdly alright with folks calling me ma'am (I live in the south, might be a respect thing) but otherwise not a fan of being referred to femininely. I don’t mind sir at all.

my gender: I’m butch, I’m a dyke, I’m a fag boy, I’m transmasculine, I’m stag, I’m two-spirit. I think of masculinity as an open thing. I find euphoria in all parts of the spectrum. I suppose I’m non-binary but I honestly am pretty neutral towards the word. The concept of just existing as a person, not on either side is way more appealing. It’s just sort of a nebulous feeling for me that I haven’t found the right label for. I don’t believe butch or bull-dyke means rigidity in apparel, hair length, or attitude. I enjoy applying makeup, I like wearing earrings and tons of jewelry and feel personally more euphoric embracing these things. I like, but am not restricted to “masculine” apparel. I wear what I want and express how I want and all of it is masculine because it comes from me. I think we all have a story to write within our expression, and this is mine.

my attractions: I only seek to have romantic/sensual/sexual relationships with other trans-masculine folks or butches/bull dykes. If you’re a masc dyke, you’re probably my type, plain as that. (aside from personality and all) I experience every type of attraction to masculine folks but am not usually inclined/interested in sexual encounters. I figure I’m demi-sexual and have pretty specific terms about who I’ll actually engage in stuff like that with. I’m not even fully sure myself (it’s pretty rare and it creeps up on me lol.)  I consider myself stone and not usually comfortable with folks touching me unclothed and directly. I’ll give you consent to do so. Those who know me physically know where they stand.

I’m aesthetically attracted to femmes but that honestly doesn’t go very far. I’m not romantically inclined in that direction and am not comfortable with folks asking me if they’re “too femme for me to like” or if they’re “too femme to do (insert action)” with. I’m totally open to and enjoy having femme friends but am un-wanting of romantic/sexual/sensual feminine attention. I only mention this because often times when I express a sentiment in regards to being strictly butch4butch and only wanting to engage on that level with other bull-dykes, femmes message me asking if we can engage in said action like I haven't already drawn a clear boundary line.

Random stuff about me: I like metal,punk-rock, dad rock, screamo. I love reading, writing fic. I have an a03 (doggydenturez) and I post some of my works. I do beadwork. I collect antlers and pine-cones. Currently obsessed with Beastars the manga/show. I like painting when I have the time. I’m obsessed with stickers. I like running for fun/fitness/ but also when I’m antsy or stressed as well as weight training. I am Afro-Colombian, African American or Black, and Afro-Indigenous. I am obsessed with stickers. I love making friends and making genuine connections. I don’t think people have to be perfect or unproblematic, I’m pretty non-judgemental. Just be honest and we’ll get along fine.

Thanks for reading!

[animehouse-moe]

Tatsuki Fujimoto Before Chainsaw Man: 22-26

So, the second volume of Fujimoto's short story collection has arrived (for me), and it was perhaps an even more interesting read than the first volume. Most interestingly, it has a very strong theme throughout. As with the first volume I'll be tackling this in the order that they appear in the volume.

Mermaid Rhapsody

So, to cut to the chase, this short story is about a boy who's mother was a mermaid. To feel closer to her he's taken to playing the underwater piano near his home, when a young mermaid girl shows up, and the two grow closer to each other.

I'd say this is my favorite short story of the collection, by a decent margin. It's concise, it has motivation and a unique approach that doesn't rely on gimmicks, and it cuts to the heart quite quickly. It's a story that revolves around the concept of a forbidden love, one that's engrained in this young boy's very being. But in line with that love, he also has to overcome fear. With that in mind, it enters into a battle of inner turmoil of natures and willpower.

Would I call it forbidden love? Maybe, but there's a better answer that I'll give towards the end. Regardless of the overall purpose of the story, I think the characters mesh very well together, but there's a bit of an abrasive and almost childish film that coats a lot of it. Not that it's bad, but that there's a lot of latent potential just within the story itself if there were to be a few tweaks.

Take the awkwardly implied harem type-ending, for example.

It's a silly piece that doesn't add much of anything to the overall appeal of the short story, and bogs down the entire concept of finding a way to get closer to someone that is considered dangerous by many. Where is the tension if everyone comes out of the woodwork to immediately glom onto the kid?

Though that's about my one major complaint, aside from that it's just a lot of Fujimoto's idiosyncrasies appearing and influencing the story in interesting ways, and producing one of the more "normal" entries to his works.

Woke-Up-As-A-Girl Syndrome

Personally speaking, I'd rank this one as the worst when it comes to this short story collection. I think it has solid ideas, but translating them from pen to paper they end up muddied and sensationalized, much akin to my complaint about the childish aspects of Mermaid Rhapsody but on a much larger scale. The gist of it is that a boy (who has a girlfriend) wakes up as a girl, and no matter what will always be a girl, so they have to figure out how to proceed in their relationship while tackling this new issue.

I think it had great potential for speaking to the challenges and dysmorphia of gender identities and roles, and sexuality, but ultimately ends up narrow in scope and misses the mark. The struggles of being confined to a body that you want nothing to do with, that affects your entire outlook on life, is expressed rather succinctly, but wavers before being washed away by some of Fujimoto's earlier vulgarity. I'm not sure why, but it quickly changes pace to become sexual harassment over Toshihide's (they share the same name as the prior one-shot's protagonist) change.

For how quick a beginning, and distasteful a middle, the end finishes quite strong. It strikes a strong chord with being true to yourself and despite adversity or disgust or fear, that the only path is forward. Undoubtedly it would have hit harder if the middle was less... vulgar, but I think on its own it stands rather well, if not a bit folly in succumbing to "being a man" (a line uttered by a side character to spur on Toshihide). The sentiment is between a rock and a hard place considering the context though, so I'll so I'll let it slide.

Nayuta of The Prophecy

This (along with the next one-shot) are pretty neck and neck for second place in this volume. Both have solid approaches, but both are just missing that one little piece to take them to the next level, like the thing that can knock it back into place is just out of reach.

Anyways, Nayuta of The Prophecy is the story of Nayuta, a young girl whose birth was foretold to bring ruin to the world. In spite of this, she was still birthed and raised, and has become an object of fear and spite for all those aside from her brother (both parents have died by the time the story gets going).

Nayuta only talks in violent words, and is overall somewhat of a nuisance to her brother, but no matter her antics she still loves and cares for him, taking on part time job after part time job to make ends meet for the pair of them.

I think more than anything, this story is endearing. It shows the lengths that a brother will go to for his sister, even if they can't really communicate with each other and he was afraid of her in the beginning.

It doesn't have any grand ideals or "climactic" moments, but instead opts for a slippery slope and a casual realization. At the point of exhaustion, at fearing for his sister's life, he realizes that she was never a burdening him with her antics, but trying to help her brother out in her own way.

It's a rather straightforward story, which is part of where it misses the mark, but it's approach to finding a way to protect and love his sister properly is quite moving.

Sisters

I'll just get it out of the way really quick, I think Sisters had incredible potential as a story of jealousy and sisterly love, arguably enough so that it could stand on even footing with Mermaid Rhapsody quite easily if there were a few tweaks to it.

Of course, this a story that absolutely cannot exist separate to Look Back, which Fujimoto himself acknowledges in the afterword for it, saying, "This piece is foundational to Look Back."

So what makes it good? Well, the whole idea is that the story is told from the perspective of the older sister, who has effectively been ostracized by a nude drawing her younger sister made of her. Rather ridiculous in reality, but as a concept it's a solid catalyst for what's to come.

Hatred boils within Mitsuko, who has always been stuck with her little sister right next to her, challenging her ability, refusing her the ability to stand out on her own. Despite being the older sibling, she gets left in the younger's shadow and can't stand it.

Behind the jealousy and hatred though there's admiration. From her younger sister's perspective, she's chasing after Mitsuko's shrinking back, trying to stand alongside her and share her admiration. It's just, as is common with younger siblings, they're impossibly bad at expressing those feelings in a normal fashion.

So far I'm making it sound like a home run of a story, so what's the catch? Well, one of my largest pet peeves, show-and-tell. When you're dealing with complex emotions, it's impossible to encapsulate them effectively with words. Instead, much like the image above, directing towards the true answers is far more effective at conveying the sentiment. I wouldn't say the whole story relies on show-and-tell obviously, but it uses it as a crutch more than a handful of times via monologuing. In the end though, it's a pretty great story that establishes a happy but not perfect end.

So what's the theme? Well, in two words: Fear, and Love

Mermaid Rhapsody is centered around the fear of a mermaid eating you, but the thrill and love that Toshihide feels being alongside Shiju, and with people that remind him of his mother. Woke-Up-As-A-Girl Syndrome tackles the fear of being different than who you want to be, and still standing up to declare your love in spite of adversity. Nayuta of The Prophecy is about overcoming the fear of a girl that's able to end the world, and being able to truly love her as your little sister. Sisters is about pushing past the jealousy and fear of inadequacy to deepen your love for your sister.

All of the stories involve overcoming some form of fear to experience love despite the challenges imposed by the individual and world, and finding peace and happiness within the path they chose. I think it's really interesting to see Fujimoto probe a single concept so much with so many different angles, especially considering how they manifest in other series, like Nayuta with Chainsaw Man, or Sisters with Look Back.

I'm really quite curious to see why he was so infatuated with love at this point in time to explore it through overcoming negative emotions to appreciate it at its fullest. At the same time though, you can tell how much Fujimoto explores sexuality in various formats, some explicit, other implicit, and even some that end up rather vulgar.

This collection just cements how much of an enigma writers like Fujimoto are to me. What are they thinking when they create stuff like this? Are they considering the most minute details possible, or are they just thinking, "Man, I want to write a story about love"? Am I anywhere near correct? Can I truly understand such idiosyncratic creators through naught but tangential thoughts to their self? It's arguably more enjoyable than breaking apart their longer running series because there's so much variation and exploration. If you see someone do math day in and day out, all you'll know is that they either enjoy math or they're good at it, but the more subjects you add the more moving parts there is. It becomes a spider web of connecting the dots. They spend more time on chemistry than math, do they like chemistry more than math or are they just better at math than chemistry so they spend more time on the latter?

The Devil is in the details, and when there's more of them, it becomes harder to discern it's true shape, and I find that endlessly exhilarating.

[eponastory]

Tell My Heart To Beat

Chapter 7 - The Gully

She was shivering by the time they had found a place to stay. Her coat was not enough to keep the biting cold from penetrating through to her skin. Even though Dante had provided some warmth as he carried her, it was near impossible to keep her warm as the wind picked up. The daylight was nearly gone. The cloud cover had turned the evening light into blue-grey hues, and the weather was not improving.

His main concern was finding some place out of the wind. Thankfully, they had come across a deep gully lined with rock going from east to west. This was going to provide a block from the wind through the night, at least. Dante looked around for any signs of danger, be it animal or demonic, before making his way down into the area.

Evan had stopped talking a while ago, even going as far as moving her hands to the inside of her coat. She was freezing. Her feet were almost white when Dante set her down next to the rocky wall of the gully where snow had not accumulated. He kneeled down, grabbing her feet in his gloved hands and making sure there were no signs of frostbite.

"I can't feel them." She muttered out between her quivering jaw. He looked at her with heavy concern.

"It's okay, I'll get you warmed up in a bit." He put a hand on her head in comfort, then he pulled her hood over to cover her ears. "I'll be right back." He removed Rebellion from his back and leaned it up against the wall before removing his coat. "Here, this should help." Dante gently put his coat around his daughter's shaking form.

The devil hunter stood up before taking Rebellion and walking off into the fading light. Evan would be alright for a while until he could gather enough wood for a fire. Without Evan there, he would likely keep hunting through the night, but he was not here for demons. He was here for her. This may have started out as a job, but now it was a rescue mission, and he was not willing to put Evan in harms way.

Finding dry wood was a little difficult but manageable even in these conditions. Dante made sure not to go too far from where he had left Evan, as he was still earshot from her. If anything happened, he could be there in no time at all. As soon as he collected enough wood, he was back in the gully.

"This should be enough to get you through the night." He squatted down facing Evan as he stacked the firewood evenly, making sure to add in some of the tinder he was able to find. "You okay over there?" She was curled up against the wall with his red coat covering her. He could barely see her eyes peeking out from the small opening in the cocoon that she had made.

"M'okay." Dante smiled to himself at her muffled response. At least she was warmer.

"There's a lighter in one of those pockets, ya mind getting it for me?" To be honest, he was starting to feel a little chill as it was almost completely dark. He could see her moving around to search his coat pockets and then there was a chink as the lighter landed next to him.

Lighting a fire in the dark was a lot less challenging when there was no wind. The silver zippo lighter he kept around for sentimental purposes came in handy this time. As soon as the fire was going good enough, Dante sauntered over to sit close to Evan, who was sticking her cold feet out towards the hot flame. Setting Rebellion against the rocky wall, he chuckled as he watched her cozy up to the warmth while still covered in his coat. It amazed him that she had survived on her own for this long.

He was pretty sure that it was the traits she inherited from him. Survival was in his DNA, and so was abandonment and loneliness. That was something he hoped Evan would be spared from. He was wrong. Plain and simple.

"You're not cold?" She asked him as he leaned back against the rock with his legs stretched out and ankles crossed.

"Not really." Sort of a lie, but Dante was not going to rob her of any extra warmth she could get. She was lucky she did not have any blackened toes. "I can handle a little cold. What about you? Are you feeling better?"

"Yep." She nodded as she put her hands out towards the fire. "I am hungry, though."

"When was the last time you ate anything?" Dante had not thought about food in a good while. He tended not to eat while on a job since there was never really time to do so.

"Three days ago... I think." She looked embarrassed that she had not eaten anything, which was concerning. "Just little things that I could gather up before winter."

"You like pizza?" He crossed his arms over his chest and rested the back of his head on the rock.

"Yeah, but I only had it once." She hugged her knees to her chest. "Grandma and Grandpa said pizza was junk food, so they never cared to eat it." Shame on them for not being cultured.

"That sucks." To Dante, pizza was a staple in life. Sure, he enjoyed other foods, but pizza was easy to get, and it was delivered. "Well, when we get out of this crazy ass forest, I'll treat you to some really good pizza."

"Okay." He was positive she was holding back a lot of questions, and also a lot of bound up trauma. That would explain why she was keeping her distance from him.

Dante felt inadequate at that moment. He wanted to reach out, but he was not sure how. The last time he had seen Evan was when she was a fresh scented newborn right out of her mother's womb. For all he knew, her family could have lied to her about him. He was not sure if he wanted to have that conversation with her yet. Better yet, she may not want to talk about it either. There was so much to process on both sides of the spectrum.

He watched as she stood up and walked over to him with his coat dragging along the ground. The red leather had seen much better days, but it was still worth its weight. He was expecting her to sit down closer to him. Instead, she removed his coat, holding it out to him.

"I know you said you didn't need it, but I don't want you to get cold either." Damn his stupid bleeding heart. Just the small smile on her face in the light of the fire was enough to heal a little peice of his already broken existence.

He gingerly took his coat back, giving her a smile in return. She was not as selfish as he was; he counted that as a blessing. His coat was warm, and to be honest, he could curl up in it himself. He draped it over himself with a content smile as Evan decided to sit down next to him.

"You okay, Princess?" There was no answer at first as Evan hugged her knees again. There was the glisten of tears in the light of the fire as they rolled down her cheeks.

Dante almost expected her to start crying at some point. Now that she was not alone anymore, she had time to think about everything that had happened to her since her mother died. It was a tough pill to swallow. He knew how it felt to lose a parent or two. He remembered how he felt when everything had settled down and the realization that he was alone had come crashing down on him. That feeling was the worst.

"It's my fault." The words came out of her mouth, causing Dante to stiffen. None of this was her fault. If anything, it was his fault for thinking like a lustful teenager back in that bar.

"It's not your fault, Evan." He was going to stop her from taking the blame. She was innocent in all of this, and she really had no idea about what really happened. "I don't know what happened to you during the last eleven years, but none of this is your fault." He looked down at her sniffling form.

"I punched another girl at school." She hiccuped, holding herself together as she tried to tell him what happened. "She was being mean, and I lost my temper, so I punched her in the face." He would have done the same thing as he never really had tolerance towards bullies. "Grandmother kept telling me I punched her for no reason and to stop lying to everyone. But I didn't lie!" Dante could see her clenching her fists. "They didn't want me. No one wants me." She put her hands to her eyes as she started sobbing. "Mom was the only one, and now she's gone because of me."

"Hey, no... Evan... listen to me." The hunter moved himself closer, hesitantly wrapping an arm around his daughter. "Listen." He had no idea where to begin, or even if he wanted to tell her everything. He had to tell her something. "This was never your fault. I have no idea what you've been told by those asshats, but they are wrong." He swallowed out of nervousness because this was difficult for him too. "I spent the last eleven years wondering if you were okay and hoping that maybe when you turned eighteen, you would walk into my shop asking me all kinds of questions. Maybe you might get angry or I don't know, but I thought about it." Dante gave her a nervous laugh as he realized he had just admitted something he kept deep down. "Hell, I'd of gladly taken some punches to the face." She leaned into his side, which surprised him a little.

"Why couldn't you come see me?" There was the question he knew was going to come out at some point. "If you knew about me, then why did you stay away?"

"It's complicated, but the gist of it is that your grandparents are controlling." He could still hear her sniffing as her crying had died down as they talked. Dante was about to give her the absolute unhindered truth. "I was there the night you were born." There were things he could not forget even if he wanted to. The feeling he had walking out of the hospital that night was unlike anything he had felt before. Leaving part of his heart behind had made him feel like he was losing Vergil all over again. "I had never held a baby before, and you were so tiny... I had no clue what the hell I was doing, but I wanted to be there." He laughed at himself. "I must have looked like an idiot." He looked down at his daughter, who was watching him intently with her blue eyes, just like that night in the hospital. "I had to sign my rights to you away before I could even see you. Your grandparents only gave me ten minutes." It was not enough. It would never be enough.

"So you were forced to give me up." Dante nodded at her conclusion. She only looked down at that confession. There was this strong feeling of connection now, which ultimately surprised him. "All this time, my grandparents kept telling me that my dad wanted nothing to do with me. It was all a lie." He could feel her anger towards them, and she was right to be infuriated. "Did they even care that I was out here?" She stood up with her fists clenched like she was ready to punch something or someone. "Did I miss my mom's funeral?" There was no way for Dante to tell her that he had only found Ali that morning.

"To answer your questions... no." He stood up with a groan and put his coat on the proper way. "My broker, Morrison, came in with a job. Your family hired me indirectly to take care of some demons and find your mom's body." He sighed as he went to put another piece of wood on the fire. "They didn't mention anything about you, so I assumed you were safe in your bed... you know." He could see Evan shaking as she started to cry again. Dante hated when girls cried, but this was worse. "Turns out you had been out here this whole time. Don't get me wrong, I'm about as furious as you are, but I'm glad it was me that came out here. Not some other hunter who wouldn't give a damn to look for you." There were plenty of other demon hunters out there that could do this job efficiently, but Morrison was a crafty bastard. He knew when to scoop up the good jobs and who was the best at getting them done.

"Did you find her?" Evan's voice cracked as she tried to calm herself down. Dante felt his heart break for her.

"I did." Though he and Ali had a whirlwind relationship, they had created Evan together. He did not have a bad thing to say about the mother of his child. "I have a friend looking after her." Lady was probably waiting on them at that moment, but she could take care of herself. The female hunter also seemed to be overly concerned about Evan as well. "You don't have to tell me what happened if you don't want to." He was not sure if he wanted to hear about the accident, not when it was obviously traumatic. She sniffed and rubbed her irritated eyes. "Hey, it's going to be alright now."

There was not much else he could say. However, he could be there for her. He could only reassure her that he was there with her and that he was not going to leave her there alone. What happened when the job was over was out of his hands. If her grandparents wanted custody of her, he had no leg to stand on.

Dante stood next to his daughter watching the fire dance as the wind picked up overhead. It sounded like a hurricane was blowing through the forest around them, but they were safe in that rocky gully. It was pitch black out there now, and he could tell Evan was exhausted. He put a hand on her shoulder as she rubbed her nose with the sleeve of her coat.

"Why don't you get some sleep." She nodded, taking a seat near the fire where she could stay warm. She looked up at Dante with pleading eyes, which he doubted he could resist the silent demand for him to stay with her. "Alright." He said as he sunk to the ground next to her with a small grunt. Instead of sitting up, he laid behind her with his hands behind his head with his ankles crossed. "Get some sleep, Princess."

Despite the ground being cold, Evan laid down next to Dante without question. She was beginning to trust him simply because of their shared blood. He hoped she at least knew that he would not let anything happen to her. Not since the fight with the white demon that afternoon. She had seen Dante in his demon form, so he was waiting for that subject to come up at some point.

"Dante?" She scooted closer to him as he closed his eyes. He was not going to sleep anytime soon, so he listened for any sign of danger.

"Hmm?" He had the distinct feeling she was about to ask something awkward.

"Thanks for finding me." He opened his eyes before looking at Evan, who was laying beside him with her hands clasped over her chest.

"You don't need to thank me." Despite everything else, he would do anything for her if it meant keeping her safe and alive. "You're my daughter. But you knew that when you first saw me, didn't you?"

"It wasn't hard." She reached over and pulled at his hair, which elicited a short groan from him. "There aren't a lot of people out there that look like us."

"Hmm... you're right about that." He turned his gaze up to the black sky, and to his surprise, he could see the clouds breaking up. There were even a few stars poking through. "You're pretty smart." Dante could not help the smile that graced his face. He was pretty sure he was proud of her at that moment. "Anyway, go to sleep. I'll be here so nothing will happen." She yawned as she turned on her side to face the fire.

She laid there thinking about everything that had happened in the last few hours. For one, she had met Dante... her father. It was still a strange concept for her as he had been painted in such a harsh light by her grandparents. Her mother never really confirmed or denied anything they said about him. She did not even know his name until now.

She fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of her coat as she stared into the flames in front of her. There was just something so surreal about where she was and who she was with. She had a lot of questions, which she thought was understandable since she barely knew anything about Dante. The biggest question she had was, where would she go after all of this? The probable answers gave her anxiety.

Those anxieties followed her as she finally gave up the fight against sleeping.

In her dreams, she was alone in her burrow again. The same place she had been for months trying to survive the wild she was left in. The world outside her burrow was loud and bright with everything that should be comforting. But it was not. She covered her ears to block out the noise of thunder and the howling, but to no avail, she could still hear it.

The thunder came galloping in like a herd of wild horses running past her den, shaking the ground as they ran by in clouds of dust. Everything was chaos outside. Storms are coming and going, leaving nothing in their wake while she stayed curled up in her little hide. At one point, she could hear someone calling her name from outside the door, but she just kept holding her ears. She was afraid that if she looked outside, she would see something that was not true. Some false hope that she was not alone anymore.

Still, the howling grew louder, and the ground shook harder. She curled up as much as she could, yelling at herself to wake up. That if she just opened her eyes, it would all go away, and all the noise just turned into silence. All she had to do was wake up.

Wake up!

Her eyes flew open, and she made to sit up, but she was held down. Dante was crouched next to her with a finger on his lips in silent communication to not say anything. She began to panic when she felt the ground vibrate with the heavy footsteps of the monster that had killed her mother.

The fire was nothing but embers now as it looked like Dante had dowsed it with snow before she woke up. He had his sword on his back as he stayed with her, his hand never leaving her shoulder as the sound of trees falling over permeated the cold air. He signaled for her to follow him to the wall of the gully as quietly as possible.

He helped her up carefully, guiding her to the place he wanted her to hide. She grabbed on to his arm in fear that he would leave her as the monster strayed closer. She was close to full-blown panic as the monster of her nightmares howled into the night. It was like Dante could sense her panic well enough because he pulled her to him, keeping her close. She felt him wrap and arm around her shoulders as the creature moved above them. He was not scared. Honestly, he looked like he was ready to fight.

"Evan... listen to me." He whispered to her as he leaned down. "I have to take care of that demon, or we aren't getting out of this forest." He but his hands on her shoulders in hopes to help her understand. "You have to stay here while I go up there and take care of it. Understand?" He looked her in the eyes with only the ambient light around them. She nodded, even though she was terrified. "Don't worry, I've taken on much bigger demons before." He put his right hand on her cheek. "Stay here til I come back for you." He told her before he moved away.

Now that she was alone, all she could do was hope that she blended in with the rock wall of the gully. She could barely see anything besides the white snow on the ground, but she was able to see her father's eyes clearly. Either way, she was shaking as the cold air set in.

Evan could only listen as her father took on the monster that had been haunting her dreams.

[notasiren21]

26 for Lukanette WIPs please. :)

26. Party Crasher!Luka

I FUCKED UP AND JUST WROTE IT I GUESS???

Party Crasher

-Lukanette oneshot

“You mean to tell me Agreste ditched you? After all that pleading to let him take you to the party for your successful launch line for next season, he’s ditched you?”

“Kagami, don’t kill him.”

“Fine, remind me why I can’t though? This is such an ass move of his if he’s trying to prove he’s the one for you.”

“Because,” Marinette grits out, faking a toothy smile to a work couple that waves from passing, “I want to castrate and kill him myself.”

Kagami laughs roughly in surprise, “Why the castration?”

“So I can fit his small ass into the tightest pair of skinny jeans we have for our tall teenage girls.” The not so stoic girl sips on her wine, pleased with her friend’s rage. “I told him I haven’t been interested since we were 14, but him thinking I’ll forgive him if I even had a silver of interest in dating him? Fuck him.”

“Or,” Kagami drawls, long nails tapping the stem of her glass as she leans to peer over her friend’s shoulder, “You could fuck him instead?”

Mari gasps in offense, “I am NOT trying for a one night stand, no matter what you guys say.”

“No, you little mouse,” she admonishes, fully heartedly agreeing with the sentiment, “I just mean your big and handsome protective snake is here to save the day.”

Marinette’s mind took a second longer to click the pieces together, trying to make sense of Kagami’s nicknames for her friend group, before her heart thudded and she slowly turned.

There, passing by the models who had walked in Marinette’s designs and batted their false lashes at the rockstar, was Luka Couffaine.

Dressed to the nines in a very punk like and sophisticated way that revealed he very much wanted to impress her and did in fact listen to her fashion advice. Black skinny jeans only he could pull off, high top converse and a white button up with a black vest to overlay it. The cheeky and handsome bastard forgoing the tie to leave one too many buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos.

Oh, on the life of his cat Sass was she proud of him.

And maybe drooling just a little?

He approached her, a sly smile working its way to his lips as he eyed her up and down, eyes shining bright at her black low cocktail that she paired with navy blue heels.

So maybe she sometimes used Luka as a whole for inspiration.

He raised a hand, finger wrapping around a loose curled tendril out of an elegantly messy low bun, “I thought it was the models you were supposed to make the stars of the show.”

“Had I known you were gonna show up, I would’ve worn one of my bests here.”

His hand froze, “This isn’t your best? You tease,” he broke out in a grin. His hand moved further, thumbing at the collection of piercings in her ear he accompanied her with to get years ago. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Well, I’m suddenly glad I can only acknowledge this as awkward and not feel it.” Kagami noted into her class. Her phone buzzed, electing a sigh from her as she began turning. “Have fun, my mother decided to remind me why this wine was a good idea to have before she came.”

She watched her friend walk away, her other -her best friend and other half, remained taking her in and stroking the soft spot under her ear he once claimed with a mark-

The one time they admitted their crushes and strong attraction towards the other the night before he left for tour years ago.

It was the only time Luka had indulged himself in his wants and desires, the only time he had asked to and still provided her with an out. And now he still remains far off in her memories, even as he stands in front of her with that look on his face years later.

“How did you,” she swallows when his soft gaze flicks back up to her eyes with his full attention. “How did you get in? It’s a ticket only event.”

He shrugged, turning to offer her an arm and walk around. “I may or may not have seen Adrien’s post about his mom and dad going to a gala event and him going to see his cousin there. Seems like that took precedence I guess.”

Marinette huffed low, “Félix has been in town for three weeks. Adrien and I had lunch with him the other day.”

Luka stilled as a busboy stopped in front of them, offering them glasses of champagne. Luka’s nose twitched, then his lip as he turned away with a polite smile. Marinette shook her head in turn as well.

“You know you don’t have to pass just because of me, right?”

“Hey, we do this ‘young 20 some year olds unable to drink alcohol’ in solidarity together.” He cracked a smile at that, “Soda is my alcohol.”

“Alright, you can be an honorary member of the alcohol intolerance club.” Luka laughed when she hummed gleefully. “Dork.”

“Nerd.”

“So, back on topic, Adrien just really had no excuse then?”

“Ha, no, even his dad stopped by an hour ago to congratulate me and get press photos done to promote the line. All his son did for me was send a text with a sad face attached to his cancellation.”

“... I can kick his ass, you know?”

“I know, I’m just saving for a rainy day.” She laughed, stepping closer to his side and wrapping both arms around his. “So, the ticket, you party crasher.”

“Right, yeah, I may or may not have called your assistant earlier today to swipe it. I took a guess that she held onto it for safe keeping so-,”

“She’s new, I’m not surprised she just gave it up that easily.” She let Luka guide her into a dance. One hand with painted black holding hers to his chest, the other gently tugging to hold his shoulder before he held her waist.

“Oh, that, that explains a lot now.”

“What?”

He flinched, a nervous glint flashing across his features. “I may or may not have lied about who exactly I was since she didn’t know my name-,”

“Doesn’t listen to your music, already told her the sin she was committing.”

“And who I was to you, specifically-,”

Marinette tilted her head back in a laugh, Luka’s arm tightening to brace her weight, “You said you were my husband, didn’t you?”

He flushes at a memory of once getting a creep off her back a year ago by claiming that very title to her.

“Erm, no, I said I was your boyfriend and may have sold it by saying some pet name and swooning over you just a little,” he watched her eyes go wide then soft, a smile twitching to show. He stepped closer, almost pulling her flush to him, “But if that’s what you want, I can go out and get some marriage certificate?”

She flushed, lips parting and a rush of air passing them.

“Maybe call Jagged up and fly us to Vegas? I mean, we’re both looking good right now, you more so.” Her face went a shade or two deeper. She jumped in surprise when he let go of her hand to play with a tendril again on the right side, tilting her face to press a kiss to her left cheek. “God, you’re such a pretty little thing.”

She squeaked.

“What, what was the pet name?”

“Hm?” He lazily met her gaze, a dream like haze filter over them as he moved her body to sway with his. “Oh, that.”

“What was it?”

Baby, babygirl, beautiful, gorgeous- he may have said more than one.

He gave a slow and wicked grin, twirling her out and back into his chest in a swift and stunning movement as he nudged his nose to hers.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased, smile spreading wider and radiant as she forgot to breathe for a second.

What. A fucking. Tease.

The need for him to make good on his words and looks hit through her hard and reminded her of their one night together that they both never forgotten. And how much she wished that was every night, as long as it ended up with them curled right around each other and love and happiness coaxing them to sleep instead of stress and loneliness.

He watched her steel her gaze, her jaw tightened. He swallowed when her height, now of five feet thanks to heels, straightened and forced him to pull up. A violent shiver rocked through him when both hands held along the back of his neck, one slipping under the collar of his shirt to scratch along the nape.

“Marinette-,” he choked.

“I’m only asking so I can show my reciprocation.” She leaned closer, kicking her shoes off into some corner and standing on his converse that every elder of theirs had eyed in question during the night. He supported her actions fully, of course. Still stepping them around in dance within a fluid motion. “Not gonna tell me, hun?”

He coughed, loudly and looked away from her to catch his breath. Watching adults cheat on spouses everywhere or everyone else minding their own business to stare at models or the shrimp on the tables.

He almost tripped when she wined in protest, her hand gripping his chin lightly and turning it to face her. His eyes were flickering between admiration, lust and love, growing three shades of deeper blue than was possible.

“C’mon, baby, tell me.”

“Baby?” He stammered out in surprise. Teenage Luka was having a fucking field day with this. “Marinette, I was only joking earlier and-,”

“Were you really though?”

“No,” his response was fast and instant, a wince playing at the corner of his eyes and his button nose scrunching in loss of control.

“Hey handsome,” he preened under the nickname passing her lips, even if close to millions called him the same thing, it paid more effect when it was Marinette calling him it. “Tell me why you came tonight.”

His neck was aching from staring down to meet her eyes now that the heels were gone but he let himself down lower to press his forehead to hers. “Because you deserve better than what he gives you.”

The girl stilled, expecting an awkward or a flirtatious remark. “What?”

The rockstar looked away sheepishly, a little ashamed. “I know you’re considering getting with him, but when I heard he was canceling on you I let my jealousy win out and I just wanted to be there for you.” He bit his lip when he felt her tugging his face back in her direction, choosing to resist the pressure. “You have to believe me when I say I came with no ulterior motives other than protecting you from going stag to your own party tonight.”

“You, you came to protect me?”

He shrugged, another small shiver racking through him when her hands moved along and glided across his neck. “And make sure you had a good night. I even asked your mom what you were wearing tonight just so I could make sure my outfit complimented yours to cheer you up.”

She was silent for a minute or so, and he waited, patiently as ever and guiding her to rest her head against his chest as he swayed them.

Luka, doing all the work. Luka, taking matters into his own hands when someone fails her. Luka, going the extra mile to make sure she has a happy memory.

Fuck giving second chances to other people. Luka is the only one to have shown her he’s the most earning of the concept and notion.

She pulls away, feeling the slight reluctance in his arms on her waist before they drop to his side, “Grab my heels.”

He raises a black brow but complies, turning to find them and hooking his fingers in the backs. He eyes them, used to seeing her shoes laying around the Liberty when she comes over or even at her own place, but he always has to remark that, “You have small feet.”

“You’ve also called them cute,” she huffs, tugging on his hand and pulling him near the entrance.

He follows, like they always do for one another. “Because they are- where are we going?” He stops them as they round an empty corridor, away from the hotel’s event room where the party is still very much happening. The heel of his palm grips tight to archway, pressing against it, the small shoes still dangling in his hold.

“Home, your place or mine. Actually, mine’s closer.”

He laughs brightly, “You can’t ditch your own party for another movie night, Mari.”

The petite girl turns to him, a fierce expression in his eyes that makes him swallow harshly. “No, but I can ditch to celebrate in getting what I really want. For finally getting what I want.”

“The Chinese takeout place is closed this time of ni-,”

“You.”

“What?” Luka wheezes, he blinks stupidly at her. Prettily and stupidly. He straightens, freehand tugging at his collar a little like he needs room to breathe. “Come again?”

“I’m going home. I’m taking you with me. And we’re gonna celebrate that I finally got off my ass and got what I wanted.”

He hums, nervously and a bounce starting in his hand, a shake in one hand, his dark brows furrow, “And you want?”

“You.”

“You- you want,” he sucks in a sharp breath, pain flashing across his features as he clears his throat. “You want me?”

Her eyes soften, a smile showing as she steps closer to him and takes his face into her hands, pulling him down to be eye level with her as he braces his weight on the wall next to them with a hand.

“Yes,” he looks awestruck as she giggles. “I want you... can you let me keep you?”

He laughs nervously, “I’ll fucking sell myself to you if that’s what you really want, fuck.”

She’s smiling, leaning up on tiptoes to alleviate the strain in his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips, muffling the undignified noise of surprise that escapes him. She lets him get used to her for a second, kissing him slowly and purposely as starts to eventually overcome the shock and kiss her back in reverence.

He pulls away suddenly, a guilted expression on his face.

“Wait, wait. What about Adrien?”

“What about him?”

Luka fidgets, a quick glimpse of insecurities and jealousy showing to her before he regains a semblance of control after having his walls knocked down. “He’s been trying to go out with you, win you affections.”

He only knows of the situation, but never presses her to talk about it. It’s natural for it to come up in conversation everyday when he asks her about work knowing the stress of being twenty-two in a high end fashion company could be a bit more than overwhelming. He wanted to be a safe place to her since the beginning.

“There’s nothing about him. I’ve shut him down an handful of times and now it’s just a matter of letting him indulge himself in what he thinks are romantic gestures when me saying no doesn’t cut it. There’s nothing going on between him and I, just his belief that my crush from years ago accounts for something today.”

Luka still looks wary and isn’t touching her, most likely his conscious trying to be the better person between him and Adrien by not going out with the girl his friend is pining after.

Even if said girl is Luka’s legitimate best friend and the very same girl he’s been in love with since he was a kid.

Marinette feels like it’s a dirty tactic as she gets closer to him, trying to gauge where it’s jealousy and where it’s insecurity in regards to Adrien.

She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Luka’s head turns minutely at the attention, tilting less than a centimeter to catch her lips before he catches himself. He struggles when her next kiss falls to his lips and is soft and slow, how he always wants to kiss her.

“Remember our first kiss?” She whispers, wounding arms around his waist and pressing close to him.

He matches her volume, an adoring look winning for a split second, “Of course I remember.”

“Remember our first date?”

“At the ice cream parlor, you wore a pink skirt that kept twirling when you did.” She feels his resolve break a little, his own right to be selfish with her slipping out a little.

His arms slip around her, and he presses a gentle kiss to her temple. “Remember our goodbye at the airport?” His arms tightening around her speak more volumes than his strained, “Yes,” does.

She’s just a little closer to convincing him to stop being so sacrificial with his own wants or needs. She just has to push more.

“Remember waking up in one another’s arms that morning?”

He’s silent for a few seconds, thinking of what he can say in response to that. Wondering how honest to be, “... every day, I think of that morning every day.”

She still hears the clipped apprehension in his voice. That tone she knows so well that’s gonna lead into him giving her advice to rethink this whole decision and talk to him when she’s absolutely sure. How she shouldn’t think on impulse and lunge at what she wants unless she knows she does wanna keep with it.

But, he has to know she always thinks back on moments with him and that she longs to have jumped on impulse if it meant being with him.

Every time he’s showed up with takeout at her place. When he smiles so freely at her. When he bandages her cuts and blisters from working all night long.

When he showed up tonight looking like he had been her dare to begin with. How her heart felt when he admitted to lying to her secretary. The way he looked carrying her high heels that were much too small for his hands but he didn’t care because she asked him to.

How he crashed her own party to make sure she’d have fun tonight.

She’s sure she wants this, him.

All those nicknames they could call each other. All the benefits of dating the other and having a date to everything the other needs to attend. Having her best friend be her boyfriend meaning there’s no holding back from anything.

She’ll cringe about it in the morning, but it’s gotta work to break his long instilled fear of being a bad friend or person. Of being unselfish.

“Do you still remember that night?”

She’s sure he’s stopped breaking by the way his entire body seems to shut down, but then it reboots and he’s shaking against her and can’t seem to breathe correctly, his eyes avoiding hers as he swallows again and looking like he’s willing to risk going into an allergic reaction for the sake of one drink.

“That- that’s not something you forget, Marinette.” His hands are twitching on her waist, grip tightening just a little and a vein is jumping in his arm to do something to prove he remembers alright.

One more push, “Do you still remember how I tasted that night?”

He seizes her waist, lunging to kiss her desperately like he did that night and when he left, a growl passing his lips onto hers. He’s cupping the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair, breathing her in and shaking against her as his resolves breaks completely and the selfish side comes out. The one that’s nowhere near as selfish as the average person, but enough to take in the matter of his own needs and wants. He pulls back, letting her watch his eyes darken, the pupils expanding until the blues are next to near mere ridges of color. He’s watching hers do the same before he nudges her nose and kisses her slowly, more loving and affectionate. His control slipping back into place and resulting in the Luka she so loves regaining the handles of his own mind.

He’s careful in the way he tugs her lip with his teeth, how he coaxes her to let him kiss her fully before pull back and panting against her lips.

“Yes, I remember,” his voice is rough and he has to glance away from her and straighten. She watches him take a few meditative breaths before he looks back at her.

“Does that really help?” She gestures to his chest and mouth, “the breathing?”

He laughs hollowly, “No, not really, but it bought me time to create some distance in this,” he glances around, “Not your apartment place.”

She laughs at the suddenly horrified look that crosses his face, the image of them making out and the threat of almost being caught in public instantly dawning on him. He glares playfully at her.

“You did that all on purpose.”

“Had to, you were just about to give me up for the sake of being a good friend to me and Adrien.” She pauses, a wicked idea forming to prove her point, “Unless, you want Adrien to know what that all is like?”

A dark look crosses Luka’s face; unrestrained bouts of suppressed jealousy, possessiveness and territoriality. “No,” he growls out, eyes squeezing shut and having to clear his throat. “I’d rather not let him know any of that personally.”

“Not even how I taste?”

“Marinette,” he warned, the growl resurfacing. She cooed, wrapping him up in a hug and pressing a kiss to his jaw as an apology. He whined, “It’s not funny when you do that.”

“No, but everything you feel is alright to feel. Don’t hold back for the sake of not being selfish. You can be selfish with me, you’re a reasonable guy and know boundaries.” She sighed, nuzzling further into his warm embrace. “I don’t like Adrien the way he wants me to, and lately, it’s hard to even be his friend. He needs to move on from me. Hell, I’m better friends with Félix now than him.”

“Just hope they don’t switch up on you again.”

She huffed in amusement. “God no, I’d kill them.”

“It’s adorable how how your less than five feet body resorts to violence and death threats.”

“Mm, except you, I’m quite fond of you.” She looks up at him, chin pressed to his chest and smiling when he looks at her softly and presses a kiss to her nose. “This, us, is not an impulse. Just a restrained want I’ve had for awhile.”

“Okay, I understand now.”

She grins cheekily at him, “Or need, if that makes you all possessive hot yet secretly adorable rockstar boyfriend mode again.”

“Boyfriend?” He smiled slowly, radiant as always and heart stopping. “If teenage me could hear you, he’d probably shut down from being overwhelmed.”

“Nineteen year old you certainly didn’t that night,” she mumbles, grinning at the loud bark of laughter that surprises the both of them when Luka throws his head back.

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me what age I lost it at, totally rockstar of me, right?” The blush that’s coating his neck and ears is adorable, a shy smile quirking at her briefly.

“I think it’s sweet, cute even.”

“Yeah, because you’re the one I lost it to.” He deadpanned without conviction. “But, I guess I’ll take being sweet and cute.”

“It’s okay though, I mean, I did the cliché of losing my virginity to someone I was in love with.” Luka does in fact shut down in her embrace hearing that. Hands jittering against her and fingers tapping like he’s trying to speak through notes against her skin.

He takes another minute, before pressing a kiss to her hair. “If this is you confessing your love to me -and believe me, it’s killing me to stop you right now, I’d rather you do it in regards to another topic and not the fact that we were one another’s first time.” He avoids the dangerous smirk aimed his way, or the sharp angle of her cocked, black brow above breathtaking blues. “C’mon, let’s go dance some more and celebrate your success before we leave, maybe find your assistant to introduce me as your boyfriend to.”

She pours at him when he tugs on her hand in the direction of the party. “But-,”

He breathed out shakily, a waning patient look in his eyes and a false smirk aimed at her. “Can I sleep over tonight?”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “I’m very close to just following you home at this point, trust me. I don’t care how the night ends, just as long as it’s you and me tonight.”

She’s letting him make them dance again, feeling as the nerves leave his body as he gets them to fall in step with the tempo. He doesn’t care that he has to bend a little ways down to rest his cheek on her hair, not when she’s letting him pull her up against his chest when she typically only reaches the bottom of his rib cage.

They work well together, they fit perfectly together because they’re more than used to the instinctive adapting to one another.

Her hands cup his cheeks, kissing him carefully without reservation and the anxiety, “It was only an impulse at times because I love you and have for awhile.”

Luka deepens the kiss just a little, thankful she’s the type of girlfriend to let him indulge in her as he smiles, “I get it, I’ve had my share of impulsive thoughts for as long as I’ve been in love with you since we were young. I love you, Mari.”

“Enough to crash a party for me, apparently,” she whispered, a little moved by the thought that they were finally together. He thumbed her tears away.

“Enough to kill Adrien or Félix if you ask me to,” he replied in a loving tone, soothing her gasps for air when she broke apart in giggles against his chest in reaction.

He didn’t leave after that night. And he went to every party as her date too.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Interviews - Henry Cavill x wife/actress reader

Summary: You and Henry have been married for a couple years now, and when you’re both part of the Witcher cast, fun interviews are to be had.

Warning: nothing but a good time, btw I’ve never written anything like this so I hope it’s good enough that I might feel motivated to write more

-Readers Witcher character is loosely based off my Geralt fic from here (just a little self promotion), but in this case you play a full vampire in this Witcher universe

The days have been long and grueling, filming hours upon hours of stunts and regular acting had taken its toll. Not to mention the countless times in hair and make up paired with costume changes and traveling to film on certain locations.

To say being apart of Netflix’s The Witcher was full of tiring days and some accidental bruises would be a huge understatement. But none of that mattered, nor did you bother to complain when through the thick and thin of it all did you have Henry with you along the way. And your favorite big slobbery bear, Kal whenever he was allowed on set.

Fortunately for you in the beginning of all the craziness, the casting and writers had wanted you specifically for the part of Y/C/N in the new series before Henry even auditioned for the role of Geralt, that was soon given to him after you accepted your fresh role of vampiric heroine.

It was ironically strange in a good way, you had watched your dork of a husband play the Witcher: Wild Hunt a few times before, eventually learning of what Geralt of Rivia was, who Y/C/N was in the story, who Yennefer and Ciri were, Tris and even Jaskier.

Who would have thought that you’d finally get to snag a role side by side with Henry in quite literally one of the most fantastic shows you’ve ever heard of. You didn’t even need to see the show yet to know how well it was most likely to be reviewed. Being a key character in the grand storyline was enough to convince you of how amazing it would most certainly turn out in the finished product.

And after all was said and done, you couldn’t believe how well loved and popular the show truly became in the following months after shooting and its eventual release onto Netflix. The after parties and cast celebrations truly made you blessedly grateful for pulling through to the vary end.

Then again you had your mans Henry by your side every step of the way. He was your rock and you were most definitely his. You know life on set would have been far less entertaining and dreadfully long if not for the lovely company of your dear Witcher, Henry. And so far after the fact, you and a good portion of the cast have been placed in random interviews for the majority of the day.

Reason being, The Witcher has at long last finally premiered and as per usual the people and media live for those cast interviews that always reveal some interesting events. So far this morning you’ve done some interviews with Anya that have gone perfectly fine since the two of you seem to click so well.

Also it helps ease the anxiety of your fellow newer cast mates to the world of continuous interviews with an experienced veteran actor like yourself, who’s gone round the ring more times then you can count. Though you can’t help but wonder how Henry’s doing, considering you’ve been separated since the sessions began at 10am, you’ve had lunch and now it’s about 1 in the afternoon with more hours to go.

Luckily for you, you’ve just been informed of another interview with the man of the hour himself. Saying your goodbyes and well wishes to your fellow cast mates, you stand and follow the guide into the advised place. Aka some really nice hotel room that’s been done up real nice for efficient interviewing, complete with the Witcher insignia on a large background poster and three chairs that happen to look rather comfy.

The camera and sound people nod in acknowledgment as you walk in, you nod back no doubt making their day with your friendliness and adorable smile that quite literally lights up a room. Soon you spot the bubbly yet nervous interviewee who instantly welcomes you into her space like you’re an old friend.

You sit, a bit confused as to where your partner happens to be at the moment, the interviewer, Lauren makes small talk before a door opens and her big bright doe eyes go wide in nervous excitement. A telling smile upon her face as she shifts in her chair before looking back to you again with a happy grin.

Henry says a quick hello to the behind the scenes crew before waving to Lauren, you smirk while watching him get comfortable next to you, “Well, well, well. Get lost on your way up, you know they have guides for a reason.” You tease as he chuckles at your humorous jab, relieved to see you again after a couple hours apart.

“Traffic.” He quips with a shrug.

“Uh huh.” You mutter with a shake of your head before drawing your attention back to Laura, “Can’t take him anywhere I swear, he does this all the time.”

She laughs as Henry pretends to gasp at your teasing, you chuckle along with them before she finally collects herself, “Well, welcome back to London. It’s fantastic to have you both in town once again, and your big beautiful faces all over Leicester Square.”

You both laugh, “Right.” Says Henry, “I guess we do look pretty cool.”

“Hell yeah, I mean where else can I see myself with a giant sword on a building? And anyways look at this beautiful mug,” You say gently squeezing Henry’s cheeks in your hand, “he’s literally killing it out there.” They laugh as you give Hen another playful squeeze before letting go and setting your arm against the chairs cushioned armrest. 

“Alight let’s start.” She says enthusiastically before glancing down at her cards then back up to you and Henry. Then into one of the two the cameras, “Hi I’m Lauren from Entertainment Weekly and today we’re here with the two stars of Netflix’s The Witcher.” She says enthusiastically while giving a nod to you two, indicating that the camera is now focused on you both, “Henry Cavill and Y/N Cavill.”

You both smile in acknowledgment as Henry gives a slight nod, “How you doing?”

“I’m great,” She beams, “So, I’ll get right into it, what do you like most about the story? What really drew you into the script that made you say, yes this is going to be awesome?”

Slapping a hand against Henry’s muscular leg, you hum, “I’ll let Hen take this one he’s a real expert on the linguistics of the whole show.”

“Thanks Y/N/N.” Replies Henry, bemused that you’re making him take the first question.

You nod to him knowingly with a smirk, “Of course.” Knowing how much he loves to talk about the show and also because you’d rather have him use his energy to talk about it then do that yourself. Priorities, right, though in your defense it’s been a long day.

“Well I absolutely love the games and the books themselves are phenomenal works of literature.” He explains, his face glowing with that usual glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “The story and the world of the Witcher is just so rich and full of potential that when I signed on for the show, I immediately knew it would be amazing, no doubt.”

You lean into the arm of you chair, “And of course I was there so that’s always a bonus.”

“That too.” He smiles adorably, “That too of course.”

Lauren smiles, “Great. So, what was it like working together, how was it having your characters interact with one another?”

You smile, setting a hand against Henry’s forearm, “This guy right here.” You deadpan before waving him off dramatically, “So annoying, my god he whined all the time and he was such a drama queen dear lord so ugh....” You start cackling before you can even finish the sentence causing Henry to loose it as well and with that the interviewer.

Shaking your head you rest your hand against his shoulder, “I joke, he was a gem to work with as usual...I mean I feel incredibly blessed to be able to act alongside my husband for months and months every single day. It’s a rarity in this line of work and I’m grateful to have shared this experience...and I guess more so this whole adventure with him as well.”

The interviewer aww’s as Henry tilts his head to lean into your hand that’s still resting atop his shoulder before pulling away just as quickly, the intimate sentiment not going unnoticed by you or Lauren who looks to be enjoying your loving yet calm energy with one another. “That’s so sweet, what about you Henry?”

“Oh yes absolutely,” Agrees Henry to your recent statement, “not only did I have her by my side through it all but the dynamic of our characters interacting together was so fun to shoot. I think the audience will really be able to see their relationship grow on screen into something strong and beautiful like in the books.”

Slow clapping you give him a curt nod of approval, “Well said.”

Lauren smirks, “Seems like it. Well, I was able to catch the premier yesterday and I gotta say...it was fantastic! I couldn’t believe how diffident the two of you looked from how you are now.” She gushes enthusiastically.

The corners of Henry’s lips curl into a proud smile for the fellow crew of the Witcher’s, “Oh that’s great then, honestly we gotta give all the props to the costume and makeup team, they’re so talented and know how to make us look like real badasses.” He adds.

You nod in agreement before grinning at a positive memory of your first interaction with Henry as Geralt, “Oh for sure, I remember during the early stages of production when our characters met each other for the first time, before this we came to set together but went separate ways to shoot our own stuff in the meantime so I never got a real look at him.” You recall with a bright smile as Henry watches your every move, beaming just the same.

“It was so funny, I was in the tent with Freya Allen, the wonderful girl who plays Ciri, and then suddenly her eyes got all big and nervous and I was like, that’s not me right? Something weird didn’t just happen with my costume? And then I turned around to find this man, wig on, face a mess, and his eyes looked so fearsome and different...it was a bit startling.” You say with a chuckle, “I clearly wasn’t expecting to see Geralt right then and there. He just looked so unlike Henry.”

“Yeah, I was almost hurt.” Laughs Henry, “She had to like squint and make sure it was me.”

Rolling your eyes, you shrug, “He had some real creepy looking colored contacts, yunno?”

Henry fake scoffs, “You’re one to talk, I mean when I first say her, Y/N’s eyes were red and she had fake blood spattered all over her face and shirt. Oh, and not to mention those fangs they put on your teeth...we probably traumatized poor Freya that day.”

“Oh shit you’re right!” You exclaim with a snort of concealed laughter, “God I completely forgot about how I looked...now since I think about it, I did that a lot too. I would just walk up to people and be completely oblivious as to what kind of nightmare I looked like, honestly I might have scared one of our producers a couple of times.” You add with a half nervous laugh, it’s true, you did scare some of the crew unintentionally. Most of the time.

Lauren lightly chuckles, “That sounds like you were quite the sight to see then.” She says before glancing back down at her notes, “Alright I have’ta ask, is there anything that you two took home with you from set?”

“Besides Henry every night,” He holds back a laugh while covering his mouth as you nonchalantly continue, “Uh, yes actually I got to take home Y/C/N’s wolf ring that I loved so much and just thought was the coolist thing ever and....uh, I might have stolen some socks too.”

“So that’s why after filming the amount of socks of yours I had to fold increased?” Wonders Henry with a surprised snort of realization.

Turning your head to give him a “no shit” kinda look, you look back at Lauren, pointing your thumb at Henry, “Master sleuth right here, but hey, he folds my laundry.”

“Aw that’s great.” Adds Lauren with a smile before turning her attention to Henry, “What about you Henry? Take anything from set?”

“More then Y/N did actually...”

“He just about took the whole makeup trailer most nights, I swear.”

Henry chuckles, “That. Is true.” He agrees with a nod, “Interesting enough, at home I’ve got Geralt’s armor hung up in our living room and a multitude of other nicknacks that I’ve collected during filming.” He adds, glancing over to you, “So uh, yeah, we were fairly lucky to be able to snag what we could.”

Lauren smiles, absentmindedly shuffling her cards, “That’s awesome to have such special memorabilia, you guys really are fortunate.” She adds before reading off from another card, “Alright you two, care to play a game called guess the image? Witcher style.”

Your face perks up at this, you’re a sucker for interview games and Henry knows it, “Are you reading my mind or something, I have been waiting all day for someone to ask about playing a game.” You gush rather enthusiastically. 

He smiles at your adorableness and how excited you’ve just become, Lauren grins, happy that her suggestion has been so well received, “Okay so how it works is, I’ll show you an image on my iPad and then you have to guess who or what I’m showing you.”

“Oh, cool I’ve heard of this,” You reply, turning to Henry with a smirk, “Loser has to clean Kal’s yard poop for a week.”

Rolling his gorgeous blue eyes he chuckles, “You’re on.”

“Alright, the stakes are high, you two ready?” Beams Lauren, holding her iPad to her chest as she awaits an answer.

“Yes, I’m ready to kick his ass.” You quip, leaning an arm against your chair while Henry does about the same, though he does his best to contain his laughter.

“Okay, first image.” She holds up the device to show some sort of weird golden thing, it’s shiny and hard, worst part is that you’re not entirely sure what the hell it could be.

Sensing your confusion Henry nudges your shoulder, though you ignore it before he smartly answers, “Oh, is that...Renfri’s brooch?” Little shit knows exactly what that is, of course he does.

Lauren claps, “Correct.” Zooming out of the image to show the full picture of the golden brooch, “Right on, that’s one point for Mr. Cavill.”

You scoff playfully, “Beginners luck.” While Henry side eyes you with a humorous grin upon his plush lips, he nudges your arm, “I’m going to really enjoy not cleaning up Kal’s grass turds for awhile.” He mutters lightheartedly, though you know deep down he’s being serious, no way is he going to win this, you think. You won’t have it, hopefully the next few pictures aren’t as difficult, Kal duty is not fun by any means.

“Shut up.” You grumble with a dismissive wave of your hand, though just teasing of course.

“Okay next image.” This time the blurred photo looks much more familiar, soon it clicks as to what the obscured blurriness actually is, yes!

“Got it! Anya’s er I guess Yennefer’s dress from the fight at Sodden.” Lauren giggles, zooming the image out to reveal Yennefer in her tasseled blue and purple dress from the battle at Sodden Hill. “I’m amazing I know.” You boast at Henry with a casual little bow in your seat.

“It’s the second question.” He deadpans, eyes crinkling in amusement as you shake your head at him.

“Pffff get outta here.” You mutter back, gently pushing his arm off of your chairs armrest and setting yours in its place while he gives you a fake shocked expression.

In turn you can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips, so instead of saying some sassy remark that would no doubt get a reaction out of him, you turn your attention back over to Lauren who’s looking over her notes again.

“Fantastic,” She says, glancing back up at you and Henry, “you’re both tied with one point each. Alright, anyone know what this is?” She asks showing something red and fuzzy, a bit of dirty skin showing from one corner but with The Witcher this bloody image could literally be anything.

The both of you squint, puzzled as to what this could be, “Y/N you got any ideas.” Wonders Henry, brows furrowed as his face contorts into deep concentrated thought.

Raising a brow, you hum, “If I knew I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Fair point.” He chuckles.

Lauren smiles, “Any guesses?”

 After a few concentrated moments, Henry shrugs in defeat,  “I’m stumped.” He admits as you study the image harder, mind racing to put the pieces together as to what the hell you’re looking at.

“No, I think I might know this....erm is it...me?” You wonder, voice raising in question, hoping to be correct about this or face the teasing of Henry.

Lauren quickly zooms out of the obscured image, “It is!” She says excitedly, revealing the picture of you from your characters debut in episode 2 where you save a girl from a werewolf, your mouth is covered in blood and so is most of your costumes chest area and left arm from the struggle. Not to mention the make-up teams fun 20 minutes of throwing fake sticky blood all over you to get the right look for the taxing scene.

You grimace a bit, “Oh god that was quite the day on set,” You recall with a half smile, “I was doing stunts all day covered in that red syrupy dye, I think it took a week to get out of my skin.”

Henry suddenly snorts with laughter, “Right! That reminds me, I thought Kal had gotten cut or something, it was just Y/N who had hugged him not realizing she still had some fake blood on her arm.”

“Jeez that’s right, I felt so bad, but I couldn’t stop laughing once we realized it was just me.”

Lauren grins, excited to hear some hidden information about little things that happens behind the scenes, “Oh wow that must have been a sight, alright Henry, Y/N’s taken the lead with a two to one score.” She says as you playfully nudge his strong shoulder. “Second to last image, what is this?”

Without missing a single beat Henry replies, “Jaskier.”

Squinting at the image you lean closer to the iPad, “How the hell do you see Jaskier?”

Smiling the interviewer zooms out to reveal the bards full outfit from the banquet scene, though he’s in the background of a fight between Geralt and some Cintran knights. “Right on!” She exclaims as you lean back into your seat dumbfounded, shoulder flush against Henry’s as he clutches your arm and squeezes it affectionately.

Ignoring his silent show of victory you shrug, “And they say he’s just another pretty face,” Earning a laugh from Lauren and some of the crew as you smirk at the camera, face them shifting to apologetic, “also I’m so sorry Joey you beautiful bastard apparently I’m blind. Uh, we don’t have to dwell on it, Lauren whatcha got?”

“You guys are both tied with two points each, last chance to win.” She replies before glancing down at her iPad, “Alright, what is this?” She asks, her iPad showing that of fuzzy bright colors, with a small corner smear of dull white that clearly wouldn’t make much sense to the untrained eye.

Smirking you glance at a puzzled Henry before sitting up in your seat, feeling rather good about yourself, “Would that happen to be, Hen in Stregobor’s illusion?” You answer with, though sounding a bit as a question considering you aren’t entirely confident as to what image this is.

Lauren’s brows raise in surprise, “Henry, looks like we have a winner. Y/N you are correct.” She beams, enlarging the image to reveal Geralt’s side profile as he talks to the old wizard while the background stays colorful and shrouded in various arrays of sunlight..

Shaking your fist victoriously in the air you give a couple enthusiastic whoop whoops while Henry simply takes it like a champ, “Have fun cleaning up Karl’s monster turds, cause this lucky lady doesn’t have to.” You boast as Henry and the crew laugh.

“Well that was something,” Beams Lauren, “I’m so glad to have chatted for a bit about your guys’ amazing new series, and maybe ended a relationship in the process.” She says jokingly as both you and Henry chuckle.

Patting his thigh affectionately, you smirk, “He’s a tough old bear, but yeah, it was awesome having you talk to us.”

“Yes, take care now.” Adds Henry while the interviewer Lauren stands, saying her goodbyes as she goes to exit the room.

The camera crew take a small break to adjust things and whatnot as you and Henry wait patiently for the next interviewer. He turns, an adorable smile pulling at his lips while you pretend to ignore his fiery gaze. “Well that went pretty well, minus the fact that I’m on Kal poop duty for a week...but uh...” He leans in close to you now, “I missed you all morning.”

Breaking out into a smile you raise a brow, “Boring without me huh?”

“Always.”

You casually shrug, “I figured as much. Don’t worry, we have a hotel all to ourselves tonight.” Your brows wiggle suggestively causing your blue eyed lover to shake his head with amusement.

“Say it louder next time.” He jokes.

Side eyeing the oblivious crew you begin to speak a couple octaves louder, “Henry I can’t wait to fu..” Suddenly his hand presses against your mouth before you’re able to call any attention to yourself. He gives you a warning look before slowly pulling his hand from your mouth.

You grin mischievously, “I wasn’t gonna say that...”

“Sure Y/N,” He mutters in your ear as a new interviewer walks into the room and finds their chair, “and I’m wasn’t going to make you scream tonight.”

Your brows raise in surprise and admittedly slight arousal at his choice of wording in this room of all places. Eyeing him up, face still showing surprise, you finally break out into a satisfied smirk. “You know what? I think you should consider changing your offer.”

He thinks deeply for a moment, though you know he’s only pretending to get you riled up, “Hrmm...maybe, possibly, should I? Should we? You are my co-star after all, that wouldn’t be very professional now would it Y/N?” He states with a shit eating grin, all done while the crew and interviewer get ready, minding their business and completely unaware to yourself and Henry’s teasing.

Scoffing playfully you lightly swat his arm, “We are way past being professional.”

He chuckles, looking from you to the rest of the room, “Oh, they have no idea.”

[starsinmylatte]

Tease (1/2)

Reader is fed up with the lack of attention from a certain Grand Admiral. To force his hand, she decides to send some pictures to tempt him while he's away, but things don't quite go as they were planned.

Pairing: Grand Admiral Thrawn x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Tags/warnings (for part 1): lingerie, m@sturbation, slight dom/sub undertones

AO3 link here

Author’s note: Here’s the smut I promised! I’ll either post the second chapter tonight, or a different smut prompt partially inspired by @pala-din-djarin ;)

Let me know if you enjoyed it <3

Ch’eo ch’itiseb- my sweet

In the beginning, the plan was to tease your lover ever-so-slightly. Grand Admiral Thrawn had been away from the Chimaera for a week, and you were in no mood to be the last person in line for attention upon his return. Sady, Thrawn had been so busy the week before his departure that he had very little time to spend with you.

As a Commander, you, of course, had your own duties to attend to in his absence, but there was no denying you missed his touch a little more than usual during the unrelentingly long week. It was more than understandable for Thrawn to be busy; he was a Grand Admiral, after all, but it couldn’t hurt for you to remind him exactly what he was missing……

You would never do anything to jeopardize his ongoing mission. Still, he was just on Coruscant visiting the Imperial Palace, and you weren’t exactly above sending some choice pictures to him through an encrypted communication line. Did you know exactly what you were doing by putting on the fine, lacy lingerie he had gifted you but never got the chance to see? Absolutely, but then again… that was the whole point. You wanted him to feel exactly as desperate for you as you did for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you slipped the final stocking into place, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection in the mirror.

Ah, this should do nicely.

Red, lacy lingerie, which perfectly matched the shade of your lover’s eyes, trailed across your skin like flames. The bralette was mostly sheer, but it offered the perfect amount of support and framed your décolletage in a way you knew Thrawn would find delectable. The matching panties hugged your hips and were partially hidden below a thin belt made from the same lace, which circled your waist and connected to the stockings in the front and back.

You laughed mischievously as you turned to see how the outfit looked from the side reflection in the large mirror, “Oh, this should definitely work well.”

The stockings themselves rested perfectly on the soft swell of your upper thighs, a place you knew Thrawn loved to kiss and mark as his, and they framed your ass beautifully. You were beyond resplendent, a piece of art that he couldn’t have, and you were going to use it to tease him as much as possible. However, if you were actually going to do some real damage, the pictures needed to be convincing.

“What better way to make this authentic than to do it in his bed,” you mused out loud. Fortunately, the datapad could both take and encrypt the pictures, so all you had to do was prop it up on the bedside table and set the photo timer.

The setup was fairly easy for the first few pictures, but all your ideas for poses were running out before long. Then, another exciting thought crossed your mind.

I’ll just set it to video! I can freeze and save sections of it as the pictures; that’ll be absolutely perfect.

You reached up and set the datapad to the necessary specifications before returning to the edge of Thrawn’s bed. Taking the pictures had been building sensual anticipation under your skin, and it went straight to your core as you imagined your lover’s reaction to them. Just the thought of Thrawn, breathless with want and worlds away from having his hands on you…. Well, it was more than enough encouragement for you to hit the record button on the datapad.

The silken black sheets on his bed caressed your soft skin and added another layer of sensation to your already stimulated mind as you lay back down among them. You took a deep, tentative breath in; Thrawn’s intensely masculine scent seemed to be everywhere. It completely surrounded you, drawing you further into the seductive depths of your mind and triggered vivid memories of all the ways he’d taken you on top of them.

One such memory was his powerful form pressing your back deep into the sheets, fucking you at a relentless pace, and worrying the tender skin of your neck with his teeth. Another was of Thrawn bending you over the edge of the bed, pinning you in place with his strong arms as he ravished you from behind, all while whispering filthy sentiments in Cheunh into your ear. Finally, your memory turned to his head dipping between your thighs to drink you in as he drew his true name from your lips like a prayer to some forgotten god….

You glanced to the side, and the mirror on the opposite wall showed a glimpse of just how beautiful you looked, displayed like a prized possession in the middle of his bed. No extra persuasion was needed for you to begin trailing your hands slowly and sensually over your curves. You lightly traced down the bothersome seams of the lingerie, following the path Thrawn’s own hands would’ve taken, before resting one hand at the apex of your thighs and placing the other on the ample swell of your breast.

By this point, the self-sufficient, capable Commander of the Chimaera was all but gone. Your breathing was ragged with desire and coming in short bursts; you would’ve willingly torn the world apart if it meant Thrawn could be in the room. It was all too much. Thought of him, his scent, his imaginary voice in your ear commanding your every move … Your cunt absolutely throbbed with desire. Arousal pooled between your legs, soaking through the lacy fabric and drawing a needy groan from your lips. With a gaze half-lidded and hazy from lust, your head lolled to stare directly into the camera, and you pleaded like it would bring him to bed, “ Thrawn….. please….”

You were so far gone that you hadn’t even noticed your hands were moving of their own volition. At the utterance of his name, two fingers pushed aside the interfering fabric and slipped deep inside your cunt; the other hand pinched down hard on a peaked nipple. Your back bowed off the bed, and stars danced behind your eyes as a broken moan fell from your mouth.

At this point, heady lust had completely taken over. Gasps and cries of pleasure rang out in the silent room as your fingers moved to circle your clit, driving you closer and closer to a shattering climax. You screamed Thrawn’s name when you came, digging your fingers deep into the sheets and searching desperately for stability as the intense orgasm rocked your body.

You stopped the recording on the datapad and laid still for what felt like an eternity as you tried to regain your senses. Finally, you were recovered enough to actually retrieve the datapad from the bedside table. The screen had gone dark, but when you brought the device back to life, something wasn’t quite right; the video was nowhere to be found.

As you checked through all of the possible places it could be, your stomach did a flip as you finally realized what had happened. The video was set to send automatically after it was filmed, so when you hit stop……

One quick glance at the message history confirmed your theory. However, you were so much more preoccupied with the flashing notification button. With a trembling finger, you clicked on it, and an audio file popped up. Thrawn’s voice, usually so soft and collected, was now heavily accented and barely concealing a feral tone, “Ch’eo ch’itiseb, you know you really shouldn’t tease me like this.” He sounded ready to eat you alive.

Sith hells, you were in trouble.

Tagging some friends: @handbaskethell @mittheresabosen @pala-din-djarin @pretty-with-andorian-shingles @bluecynadi

[rare-yanderes]

(F/H) =favorite hobby.

I have the weirdest crush on this freaking duck and I don’t know why, so I’m taking out my confusion on this matter by making him yandere. Sorry that this is so long, boring and slow but I’m a sucker for slow burns and just dislike instant love. This went from just from headcannons to a freaking long ass story. I think I’ll make more on how the reader reacts when they find out just how mentally fucked Scrooge became.

Who knows, maybe I’ll write one for good ol’ Flinty. I have a feeling he’d just drop kick any rival he spots without much qualms about it. Meanwhile, Scrooge has a full on psychological derailment.

TW: manipulation, dependent behavior, stalking, and more.

______________

•To be honest, the likelyhood of Scrooge turning into a yandere might be higher than you think. He’s capable of self defense and can fight. He literally hunts treasure for a living. He also has a trillion dollar stockpile sitting around begging to be used for cover ups. His determination is pretty crazy, and he’s seen a lot on his adventures, things that would kind of instill a paranoia over time or an unhealthy me mentality. He can easily hide behind a professional front. Oh, and if he so wanted, he could travel and bury any evidence under a volcano. :)

•Since this is a yandere AU or, I’m gonna go with the idea that this is a what if the show had a TV-14 rating as well, so much darker themes can link and be explored.

•After pretty much a century of adventure, most of which includes violence and fighting through perils, human or not so, Scrooge is desensitized to quite a bit of violence and the dark and greedy side of the world. He’s seen the best of people and also the worst. This plays majorly in anyone who becomes a yandere; how exposed they are to people’s bad side or their own dark tendencies.

•Scrooge himself is not perfect and has demonstrated some traits of greediness, paranoia, and general distrustful behavior which is perfectly reasonable considering his work and the things he exposes himself too during it.

•Even though he loves adventure, there are a lot of bad things that happen on them that he seems to bottle up or keep to himself. Bottling up things causes a negative buildup in anyone, especially Scrooge because he expects that loving his life’s work will repair the same damage it sometimes does to him.

•Most likely, Scrooge developed an affinity with you through your similar drive for adventure. Maybe you worked for him in some way and he saw you defend someone or maybe you outsmarted one of his adversaries on an adventure he decided to bring you on. Regardless, you’ve caught his attention and this is only the beginning.

•A rival love interest’s biggest mistake is mistaking his age for a weakness. One minute he’s complaining about someone being on his lawn, the other they’re buried under it.

•Scrooge would probably connect most if he’s seen that you used to be in his shoes before, or at least a similar situation. Maybe you’re struggling financially but working your ass off to stabilize your income. As someone with the humble origins of a shoeshiner, Scrooge understands perfectly. Despite his incredible stockpile of wealth, he knows what’s it’s like to be at rock bottom.

•At first, you’re probably obviously very suprised with Scrooge’s involvement in your life. He’s from an entirely different world than yours after all, the top of the pyramid. Depending on your origins, you might react quite differently. Currently, you managed to find yourself stuck in a job you hated, working for someone you despised. It was a miserable, repetitive job that brought to your life a void of boredom.

•You craved adrenaline, even if it would get you killed, you finally figured that at least you’d go out with a spark. Putting on a smiling face, you accept a position at McDuck industries thinking that it was going to be another office job. By your luck, (or, later on, unfortunate luck), you managed to score a position that required you to be near Scrooge quite often.

•This gave both of you time to acquaint with eachother and the opportunity for him to see the potential in you as an adventurer instead of just an employee. Scrooge rarely lets people in beyond family, and is quite reserved so he himself questions what he sees in you at first, distrusting you even.

•When you are taken on your first adventure, you nearly boil over with eagerness. There’s a worry at first of the treachery involved but eventually, as you venture on more and more explorations, that fear dulls and you think the adrenaline as far more important than the possible loss of your life.

•Craving adrenaline is the main reason at first as to why you to want to stay around Scrooge. Despite his repeated attempts to brush or push you away, you find yourself excited every time you get to explore and finally get to see a world that you thought you’d never visit.

•Still, Scrooge remains cold and you can’t figure out why beyond the reason that he’s just a pessimistic old capitalist. As much as you want the adrenaline, you kinda can’t help but eventually enjoy his presence as well despite his temper and general grumpiness. Having been alone for over two decades without friends does that to someone. You needed warmth again.

•Maybe you grew attached to all the times you felt you were winning when you snubbed an artifact. Also, after collecting and sneaking a few gold coins into your own pocket, you were finally getting out of debt and on track to actually start your own business involving (F/H). You had the dream that you could travel where you wanted and finally find peace from your own mind and problems.

•Scrooge, despite his own warnings to himself not to persue, can’t help but offer you a job working for him. You made adventuring a million times better and were a great addition to the team, providing your own perspective or plan for the times he and his family would journey out. Oh, and he’d finally get the opportunity to be around you more. It was refreshing to see how optimistic you managed to remain despite your current financial predicament. (Which he contemplated solving.)

•Soon, however, Scrooge began to see that you were not as happy go lucky as you pretended to be, at least not when you weren’t on another treasure hunt. Something appeared to be gnawing at you. Deep down inside, it appeared to plague you and Scrooge began to worry for your well being and as a too curious for his own good duck, he needed to know what was going on. Especially when he had caught you quickly wiping away tears while you began to head home. What could possibly be causing you this pain?

•He had to find out and to his own realization, he had to know now. After all the times you saved and helped him, he wanted to make sure you were at least doing alright in return. He ordered Launchpad to tail you home and Launchpad, oh so very loyal, doesn’t question it much.

•Most yanderes might suffer from the constant delusion that their victims love them back or that they’re in the right but that’s not the case with Scrooge. There are times where he does try to justify himself, but this is mainly due to a fit of rage or to play innocent to you. Most of the time, he knows his actions are wrong and the burning temptation is causing a war. Very early on, he suppresses his curiosity and the growing feelings he has about you. Especially when they begin to boil into something far darker. Although he’s done this to nearly everyone, being cold to you and pushing you away seemed to be his way of trying to ensure your well being instead of his. He was finding it hard not to think about you sometimes.

•Soon enough though, he begins to grow inquisitive about your personal life as you open up to him and define yourself as a person instead of another blur. You were always quite genuine to just sit around and talk to him and despite denying it to himself, Scrooge was lonely, especially after the Spear of Selene. Sometimes you’d joke to him, sometimes you’d think philosophically. Sometimes it was just a mutual, comfortable silence.

•Scrooge might make excuses aloud to you, but doesn’t lie to himself. All the times he’s made you work later or given you an extra dose of paperwork was because he wanted to keep you around and in his line of sight. 12 hours without you was turning into a painful reminder of how isolated he was, even with Beakley around. You were a warmth, a cool, calm warmth.

• “I’ll eventually need to know her address later on in case she’s attacked by one of my adversaries anyways.” Nope, Scrooge wasn’t fooling himself with that sentiment. He knew he was invading your privacy, but he also knew that he was too nosy to care enough.

•The main problem is that although Scrooge knows a lot of what he’s doing isn’t right, he begins to care less and less. (Though this process takes quite a while.) You’re a valuable and positive part of his life, you had stayed when everyone else had abandoned him for his admittedly awful mistakes. He can’t lose another person he treasures. Especially not you. You’re becoming the shiniest yet. Losing you might mean losing himself in some sense.

•Scrooge tries to shake off the guilt but only finds that maybe it’s better to punish himself by feeling it. He’s currently following along your path to wherever your destination currently is.

•Of course, his iconic shiny limousine would be a sore thumb sticking out to both you, the media, and Duckberg in general so he makes sure to either trail far behind or to have another mode of transportation available. Regardless, Scrooge never hires another person to watch you in place.

•Scrooge doesn’t even install cameras. He’d rather experience your life from his own two eyes and not as reported from another bird or screen. He rather liked tracking you himself. It gave him a place to go and at least he’d be able to bask in your duality himself. Sometimes you cried, he found to his own breaking heart. Sometimes you’d smile, (mostly only in his presence, to his delight.)

•Most of all, though, you seem caught in the present of life. Distracted, even. It seems though, that sometimes you’re so distracted that you don’t even notice something is off. Or maybe you yourself are too unable to break the cycle of adrenaline adventure to see it. Maybe you yourself were actively creating excuses, at least at first as to why you sometimes ran into Scrooge McDuck everywhere.

•If there’s something else Scrooge is a master at other than money, it’s with keeping up the detached and reserved persona of a wealthy individual. After all, who would suspect him of such crimes like these? He’s just a selfish, greedy businessman that only cares about his wealth, right? He’d never bother with other birds unless he was shaking hands at a conference table.

•Wrong. As you and him grow to become more like mentor and student, Scrooge begins to insert himself everywhere he possible can in your life, especially after seeing the shitfest that was your social group, what little of it there was. Apparently, you’d finally made a few friends over the years working for him and there was only one out of all of them that Scrooge approved of.

•Two of them, both identical Peacock twins appeared to be fascinated with your link to him and nothing more. It made some sense. After all, who could say they were a close worker to the richest duck in the world? The other one, a tall and lanky chicken, was getting far too handsy with you, and the final, a feline male was nothing but gossip and drama.

•To add to insult, you were a pretty big pushover outside of work which meant that they would drag you to places you didn’t even want to go and pressure you to have drinks you didn’t want to taste. They were in love with the mask you put up, not the complex and amazing face behind it. The one that you were beginning to let Scrooge see.

• Scrooge watches from a distance as your laugh reverberates. The laugh appears to Scrooge as unwavered and solid, mechanical in nature like it was a reoccurring script. Gazing at your face, he could see that your smile was strained, beak scrunched. You just wanted to go home and nothing more.

•The chicken next to you he was sucking a cigarette and the smoke blew in your direction, replacing your laugh with coughing and the others cackled with drunk glee, their solo cups tipping as they did. You blew it off as an accidental push in the wind which, by the way, wasn’t even blowing.

•Out of all of them, Scrooge hated the lanky chicken, who’s name he learned was Gale, the most. You deserved far better than that. Surely you saw through his sleazy act, right? Why were you hanging around such a ratched group of birds? Just how blind were you to their usage of you?

•Almost without even realizing it himself, Scrooge had tailed you the entire way home. After having to torment himself with an hour of seeing you torment yourself, he figured that maybe you’d find something that made you happy other thanyour little flock of “friends.”

•So he was admitting to being a stalker to himself. Did that mean he’d be able to admit it to oblivious ol’ you? Well, no. At least, not for now. Not until you trust him completely. Oh well, he’ll never go further than then that, right? He was watching you, but not engaging in any way. Nothing worse could come out of it..

•Wrong.

•After a while of having you working under him at McDuck Industries, Scrooge began to realize just how much financial control he had over you. Not only did you depend on him cod for paycheck, your landlord worked for someone who worked for him. In other words, the spot of land you were living on was an apartment company that belonged to him. You were living under one of his roofs. All he’d have to do was shift some circumstances and you’d either be homeless or debt free forever. Scrooge of course, plays the benevolent route and lowers it significantly for you. Why antagonize you?

•After having taken that action, Scrooge noticed more and more of a smile on your face as you realized that you didn’t have to depend paycheck to paycheck for food on the table. He had also been aware that you had a side hobby now, involving (F/H.) sometimes you joked you’d start a business and go off parting ways with that hobby. It was source of entertainment to watch you be..Well, you. There was this genuine behavior about you that just drew him in.

•If Scrooge wasn’t adventuring with you or at a meeting also with you, he was still with you. You just didn’t know it yet. Interestingly however, you’d begun to pick up the signs that there was a presence in your life. Whereas you didn’t close the blinds before, you did now. Or maybe that was from all the adventures you’d nearly died on fighting others off. Maybe it was paranoia.

•Eventually, Scrooge managed to break into your apartment under the guise to Launchpad that he’d been invited by you. A ludicrous lie, of course, but Launchpad is gullible to a fault when it comes to Scrooge. He’s loyal like that, and his friendliness to you plays into Scrooge’s emotional manipulation later on.

•As Scrooge sneaks in while you’re still home, he makes his way behind the kitchen counter which seperated your living room. He didn’t expect you to be right there in the living room, but you were, just five feet away from him and the window he snuck in. The window was to your right. He had carefully parted the curtains. Your couch was sitting approximately five feet from the window balcony, facing a corner of the wall with the T.V off.

•Peculiarly, you hadn’t even noticed he’d entered by rigging the door. You were right there, not staring at his direction, but he should have at least appeared in your peripheral. Just what were you doing to be so disconnected to the reality around you? It was worrying.

•Now hidden behind the counter directly to the left of you, he observes your desensitized form. For a moment, Scrooge thought you were a corpse until he peered closer. You were still there, physically. Mentally you looked as if you were in a whole other dimension. In a rather bold move, Scrooge slowly stands up and positions himself in the archway, watching you from his spot.

•You were still, so very still unlike all the times you’d fidget at work or with those “friends.” You still breathed and your hands shook slightly and there was color to your eyes but you yourself didn’t even seem present whatsoever. Your eyes were glazed and far away. It was just your body sitting there in that couch. It was worrisome and yet there was a blissful smile to your face seconds later.

•It was you, daydreaming about something. Something you obviously enjoyed. Scrooge, to his own shame, hoped it involved him. For a few more moments, all you did was sigh like you were meditating. It was haunting how easily you had lost yourself within the confines of your tumbling mind. Somehow, you were blocking out the world beyond, maladaptively.

• Scrooge knew he was taking a huge risk. All you’d have to do to spot him now was swivel your head a few inches or wake up from dreamland. It would take a few inches to ruin what you thought of him.

Just then, to Scrooge’s horror, you had slowly picked yourself off the couch. Your body shuttered as your head snapped up. He knew he was taking a huge risk with this and began to think that maybe it was a terrible idea after all. (Who was he kidding, it was terrible in the first place, he knew what he was doing.)

•He quickly fell back to his crouched position behind the counter, silently and expertly as you turned around and made your way closer and closer. There was a tense moment in which Scrooge contemplated just knocking you down completely and rendering you unconscious. All it would take was a few seconds. Maybe you’d forget or maybe he’d give you the dreamland you seemed so desperate to reach. It would certainly give him peace of mind to know where you are 24/7..All he’d have to do is knock you out and take you to the manor. You’d be secure and have everything you need there…

•Your presence was setting him alight, in the good way and bad way. He loved being near you. But hated the idea of you getting any closer right now, because you getting any closer would ruin your trust in him entirely. A few more steps is all there was between the idol you saw Scrooge as and the monster he was growing to be. You were like a fire. The heat scorched his feathers. Then, when you were away, his thoughts.

•Your steps were louder than they’d ever been. Then, to Scrooge’s unbelievable luck, you turned towards the hallway away from the kitchen. Scrooge knew not to push his luck trying to follow or stay, so despite his clawing urge to figure you out, he hesitantly snuck out with unanswered questions on your concerning mental state.

•It had been a months since that incident and Scrooge was moving onto bigger and bolder actions. Sometimes he’d swipe you away from any conversations you had with your friends by calling you in for a task. Sometimes he’d eat up all your time by keeping you in late, and taking you to places far away that required days of travel.

•Sometimes he’d drive bad influences away by financially ruining their life forever.

You noticed Gale’s downfall quickly, but you didn’t have any idea it was Scrooge who was responsible. Gale lived actually, three complexes from you and oh so suddenly, rent had begun to skyrocket in the particular room he had to himself. This led to him being presented with an eviction notice. You didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye. (Not that you wanted to, though.) deep down you were glad he was gone and Scrooge knew it. Gale had to move far off to find an affordable spot. It was a mercy considering how often Scrooge had dreamed of just throwing him into the ocean tied up for the sharks to find. He was a toxic influence.

•Maybe if someone pushed his button just right, Scrooge would end up killing them, and who would care? There were seven billion fellow people on the planet. Scrooge could just get rid of any threat he wanted and no one would notice or ever suspect it was him. After all, he’s just a grumpy old man with a cane.

•It turns out, Scrooge had picked up on your plans to possibly quit your job. He had never felt his heart sink like it did now. He was fighting off his initial shock as you stood in his office, masking it with a detached face. You hadn’t even confirmed the statement. All you’d said was that maybe you’d found a company within your favorite hobby.

•It was just a small implication. But, Implications could become statements, which could turn into actions, and Scrooge couldn’t let the thought even be a presence in your mind.

•You had stayed with him throughout the years of his loneliest moments, had confessed secrets, had confided in him. You were like his pupil, learning from him and you were like his partner, fighting alongside him. Maybe you were something different altogether.

•...Was it a friend that convinced you? It had to be. Scrooge knew how much you enjoyed galavanting around the world with him. There’s no way you’d just fly off without him.-

“I promise I’ll still occasionally go with you, Scrooge. (A first name basis. This was devolving from anything normal.) I found my passion. We can still adventure together, but I found a path that also makes me happy and doesn’t ya know, get me killed.” You chuckle as if it were nothing. A light joke.

•So you were leaving. You were going to go. Why? You had a great paycheck, (an expensive one that took a lot of money,) you had the opportunity to travel the world. You had the best job you’d ever get. Who else was going to be as good as him? He won’t let you destroy your future by applying for a Mediocre position at some dumptruck company.

•As it turns out, the bird responsible for swaying you was none other than one of the peacocks, her name was Shelby. She and you laughed, and for the first time, your laugh was genuine. Genuine with her and not with Scrooge. You both shared each other’s stories, and she in return had encouraged your little dangerous fantasy of being independent.

•Now of course Scrooge realized how ridiculous this all sounded. He had willingly allowed you to go on perilous adventures with him, but at least then, you were with him. How could he keep an easy eye on you if you just moved off to some rando spot? Plus, he was plenty good as saving you. He was your hero.

•Bad influences needed to go away.

•Scrooge might lie to himself about how much it digs under his feathers, but to see you around other people really dug wrong. He itched every time you decided to take advice from other people, or confide in them instead of him. He was the one you could go to, not them. Your secrets didn’t need to be shared with anyone else but Scrooge. All those rare and precious things that made you yourself didn’t need to be snatched by thieves like Shelby or Gale or whoever else.

•He knew that his criminal actions would scare you. Even with your growing trust and dependence on him, he knew it was too early for you to want to stay with him if you knew what he’s been doing. If he wanted your presence, he’d keep it through lengths you’d find terrifying.

•Scrooge found your biggest flaw was that you always attracted the wrong crowd, and it was primarily because you were always trying to impress others when they really didn’t deserve the magnificent canvas you painted yourself to be. To his even greater detriment, you were beginning to spend your time more and more with Shelby. The canvas you painted was beautiful, as always. But it wasn’t for him, and he found that he was not happy with this new development.

•Don’t you know people take advantage of kindness? It happened to him all the time and still does. It happened to you over and over and yet you kept venturing forth giving out your trust like it was nothing. The world is a sour place if you’re not careful. Cursed kilts, you were already naive about Gale. Who knows how badly future people would hurt you, even if they were well intentioned.

Scrooge could tell that, despite him insisting otherwise, you thought leaning on his shoulder was burdening him. He wanted to make sure you knew it was anything but that. As a matter of fact, he wanted you to lean on his shoulder every moment he possibly could get you to. What was just you occasionally asking for advice on impersonal things becomes entire sessions with Scrooge encouraging you to reveal every personal detail of your life.

•You had revealed that many times, you just wanted independence. A company of your own to possibly build so you could pursue life your own way. Scrooge knew these dangerous thoughts were one of the final roadblocks. Scrooge had to prevent them. Be it through roughening you up financially or discouraging you. Be it from murdering outside influences, too. Who was going to miss the miserable miscreants that plagued your life anyways?

•It is three days before the date you had decided that you would resign. Instead of being merry, you were miserable. The opportunity you had to get the job was burned by them not even calling you for an interview. After your resume, why would they reject you? You had the word of one of the finest businessmen out there to back you up. Scrooge himself promised to put in a good word for you! You were perfectly qualified for the job you were looking for. In your days of being rejected from the position you wanted, you confide in Scrooge. You don’t know it but as he pats your shoulder, he’s thinking of the next way to sabotage your efforts of leaving him.

•Shelby ends up going missing. She was one of your closest friends and the only one who finally treated you well. Your devastation causes a major setback in any ambitious plans as you isolate yourself from anyone else but only the closest person left in your life; Scrooge.

•Currently, you were enveloped in a warm hug, the side of your face leaning in the crook of Scrooge’s neck as he calmed your crying form down, patting your back and promising you his presence would remain forever. You wept at Shelby’s funeral, so did her twin sister and their parents, who, upon seeing Scrooge, had nearly fainted in shock.

•Despite your tumultuous relationship with Shelby, she had actually begun to redeem much of her previously antagonistic actions towards you. She was in a rough place when you had developed a connection with her. So you wept in your boss’s, or rather, your best confidantes arms. You wept.

Scrooge, however, did not.

[certifiedskywalker]

Fett’s Foundling - Din Djarin

thewhitedannimal said: Hi! Could I request a mando x reader where the reader is also a skilled and famous mandalorian? They decide to work together and after sometime, the reader is impressed by mando and starts developing a noticeable crush on him, but mando thinks it’s cute and expresses his feelings? Tysm if u do, I love ur work!

AN: I kinda changed this up a bit. I hope you like it though! I think it turned out pretty well!

WARNING: SEASON 2 SPOILERS!!! and mentions of terrorism (Star Wars terrorism but still)

“You’re sure about this?”

Boba’s dark eyes were cold and searching as he held your gaze. The lines of his face, including those carved into his skin by the Snarlacc’s digestive acid, were creased as he tried to read you. You imagined you looked about the same as him, but less scarred. Brow furrowed, lips thin, and expression stern. You were, after all, Fett’s foundling. 

“Are you sure about this? After all, we’ve been through a lot together. You might find that you miss me, go all soft on me, old man.”

At your teasing, the coldness in Boba’s tense features melted away. His mouth quirked upwards in one of his rare, closed-lipped smiles. The smile was a welcomed change of pace; the only hint of joy to be found on Moff Gideon’s freshly captured, Imperial light cruiser. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Bo-Katan looking grim, head ducked down in conservation with her subordinate. She had been whispering since the Jedi left, eyes darting around the bridge in search of the Darksaber. 

You glanced around too, but found that the ancient relic was nowhere to be found. Neither was Din Djarin. 

“And you say I’m going soft,” Boba scoffed, pulling your attention back to him. “You’re tied to him like a Kowakian monkey-lizard to a Hutt. Pathetic joke of a creature.”

“You would be the only one to think that,” you countered, “and the first to know that you’re wrong.” It wasn’t a threat. It was the truth. 

Boba had found you as a child who, much like himself, was stranded on Tatooine, doomed to the wastes baked by the twin suns. Both of you had been lost, outsiders to an outside world. Then Boba found his way back to the way of the Mandalore and brought you with him. He taught you to be a warrior and the two of you took odd jobs for odd people.

All the while, Boba searched for his armor and, with his help and scraps of lost battle gear, you had begun to forge your own. Eventually, you forged a name for yourself. So, it surprised him when you had, many cycles past, asked Boba if you could use his: Fett. It had stuck and you had stuck together, through it all. Though now…

“Not pathetic,” Boba finally conceded, “but you’re tied to him. Any being can see it.”

Warmth spread through your body and over your skin like a blaster bolt singe. Tightness gathered in your jaw, forced your teeth together like a vice. To ebb the sting promised by further embarrassment, you tore your eyes from Boba’s, unwilling to let him see deeper in your heart and mind. He knew you too well and you knew him too well. The two of you knew what the other was after and how those paths no longer lined up together.

“You don’t have to ask for my permission to leave.” At his words, you lifted your gaze back to Boba’s. “All I ask is that you give your allegiance to no one-” 

You roll your eyes at his words. “I know my value, my ideals. I’d never compromise either.”

Boba shook his head and leaned closer to you. Between you, he extended his hand. Your eyes glanced from his empty, open hand to his face a few times before he finally spoke up. 

“-unless they prove to you that your life is more important than their own.”

“I don’t…”

Shock. You remembered the feeling from your first gunfight. All those cycles ago, when you were lost on Tatooine. It had been so long since something had truly rattled you. For it to be Boba’s words, the man who taught you to push shock and fear off to the wayside, you were left all the more shaken.

“From what I’ve seen, that Mandalorian is as honorable as an ex-bounty hunter can be.” 

Boba gives you another closed-lipped smile. In your silence, you glance down at his hand again. You see him move it towards you, like an offering. Without another moment's hesitation, you move to rest your hand on his armored forearm. You feel his fingers on your own arm give a gentle squeeze before you meet his eyes again.

“You take care of yourself.”

Before you can return the sentiment, Boba pulls you in from your arm and into a tight embrace. Shock, again, freezes you, turns your limbs to carbonite for longer than you care to acknowledge. Boba’s embrace melts you free from it. You wrap your arms over his shoulders and hold to him as you did during that first gunfight. 

“You too,” you whisper, your voice small enough to packed into a pulse rifle. You pull away before you let yourself melt away with the shock. “And tell me when you take Tatooine.”

“Of course,” Boba nods his head at you and glanced to his left. You follow his eyeline and see Fennec. Her lips quirk upwards when you meet her gaze.

“Watch the little duchess. She wants that laser sword.”

“I will.”

Fennec nods before she turns her attention to Boba. As if he never took it off, Boba’s helmet is already on. The dark visor focuses on you for one last moment before he starts off towards the bridge exit, Fennec on his heels. You watch the pair go for a moment, mentally tracking their path to the hangar where the Slave I rests in wait. At the thought of the old beast, your chest aches. The discomfort lingers only slightly as you turn your back on the only life you had known and to the darkness of space shown through the viewport.

“Fett, what a legacy.” 

Your body tenses at the sound of Gideon’s low voice. When you turn your eyes over to where he is bound, you see dark eyes locked on you like a TIE target. 

“To throw that all away for a dangerous sect of disenfranchised Mandalorians.”

“I am Mandalorian,” you said, starting towards him. Each step you take is with purpose, calculated to reach the total sum of Gideon’s fear. You see how his eyes widen slightly and feel a rush of satisfaction further dulls the ache of Boba leaving; of you staying. “And, the last time I watched the holonews, it seemed that the New Republic labeled your broken Empire as a terrorist sect, disenfranchised from power rather than freedom.”

Gideon shifted, his cape collecting more dust and wrinkles as it rested on the floor with him. He opened his mouth to speak but you quickly turned to Cara. She was smiling, watching Gideon flounder. When she raised her eyes to yours, she grinned.

“That may be the most I’ve ever heard a Mandalorian talk in one go. Mando is always so...quiet.”

“Speaking of,” you glanced back at Bo-Katan and saw her eyes on you. In the hopes she wouldn’t hear, you leaned closer to Cara. “Where is he?”

“He walked off the bridge when the Jedi left with the kid. He went down the hall and to the left.” You nodded at her in thanks and glanced down at a scowling Gideon.

“I think the bindings should be tighter,” you said before walking off in the same direction as Din. With every entrance of new hallway you walked past, you peered into each, searching for him. He had been rocked, set a kilter by the Jedi that had stormed in for a rescue. 

He had lost the only family he had known, just as you had decided to let yours go. You could feel your own loneliness creeping up your spine and could only imagine that he felt the same doom sneaking after him. Despite being a hunter, you knew that you could not save him from that feeling, just as you could not entirely save yourself. Though, maybe, you could keep each other’s company and scare off the dark together.

The thought made you cringe. Boba was right: you were tied to Din. Pathetically stuck to him, nearly a stranger; but a stranger with skill. On Tython, you had seen him fight off a few Stormtroopers before running after the Child. He had bested a Darktrooper too, from what Cara had gotten Gideon to admit. He was a stranger with heart too.

A stranger willing to break his Creed, the oath he asked if you and Boba had taken, to say a true goodbye to the Child. In the moment, you didn’t catch a good look at his features. You saw only his head of dark brown hair and the curved tanned skin of his cheek. His looks don't matter to you though. You were already taken by him, from the moment he stood up to Boba on Tython, was ready to lie his life down for his Child. 

You were so lost in the memory that you nearly overlooked the shine of his beskar in an abandoned meeting room. Silver casted in his armor, Din was starkly outlined against the blackness of space that shown outside the viewpoint. His helmet was still off, held tight in his left hand. The sight felt sacred, as if it were wrong for you to be looking at even the back of his exposed head.

“You can come in.” While he was only a few paces away from you, Din’s voice sounded far off. Slowly, you took a step inside before taking pause.

“Do you want me to walk in backwards?” Despite the seriousness in your tone, you hear a small, breathy chuckle from Din’s direction. “I’m just trying to be cautious.”

“It’s appreciated,” Din said and, much to your surprised, you watched as he turned his head. In the dark of the Imperial meeting room, it was hard to make out his features but you could feel him looking at you. “But not necessary. Not anymore, not right now.”

Defeat was plain and heavy in his voice. You were familiar with the weight of it, having heard it in your own after your first, and only, failed bounty. Slowly still, you started towards Din again. As you moved, you catch Din’s head turn back to face the stars. Closer now, you sneak a glimpse at the side of his face before settling at his side.

He was handsome, a word you thought you would never use before. Granted, on Tatooine, there weren’t many beings you felt adequately captured the essence of the word. Din, however, with his strong, curved nose and scruff-covered jaw fit the bounty. Not to mention the dark of his eyes that looked like empty space itself. Full of mystery, Din’s eyes were, and you were ready to dive right in. 

Then Boba’s words echoed in your head. Any being can see it. At Din’s side, you forced your body still. Movement, nervousness that only Din could spark in you, could make your feelings all the more obvious. Now was not the time for that.

“You miss him already.”

“Yeah.” You snuck a glance at Din. His eyes were fixed on the view port, distant, like his voice. It was like he was trying to chase after the Child but was lost in space. You had no idea what to say to ease his search, his pain. Luckily, you didn’t have to.

A fast whoosh sounded out from the hangar below and distracted both you and Din from others presence. Roaring of a familiar engine reached your ears and, as quickly at you recognized it, the Slave I shot out of the light cruiser hold. Silently, like a swift and stalking hunter, the ship you were raised on rushed away. You watched it go until your lost the shape of it, saw it meld with the stars. It was then you felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise.

You looked over at Din and found that he was facing you now. Features once hidden under layers of beskar were now on full display. Din looked older than you imagined. There were strands of grey in his hair and patches in his scruff. Crows feet crinkles were gathered in the corners of his eyes; though it couldn’t be because he smiled so often, not with a life like his. Not with a life like yours, like all other Mandalorians. 

“You didn’t go?” Concern, in his voice and in his brown eyes, warmed your chest. You could only nod in response. “Fett, what are you doing?”

“Making my own way, like all Foundlings must.” Unable to hold yourself back, you nudge softly Din with your elbow. “Like you are. What you did was brave, even if it broke your rules.”

“You inspired me,” Din said, his voice nestled closer now around you. You held his gaze with a quirked brow, entreating him to continue. “Remember what you said on Morak before Mayfield and I went in?”

“‘Don’t get killed’ wasn’t it?” 

For the first time, you see Din smile. It’s not like Boba’s smile, the only other Mandalorian you had known. Din’s smile showed his teeth, even if it wasn’t for more than a second. Lines in his face grew more pronounced around his lips. You forced yourself to look away from his mouth and back out of the view port.

“No, I don’t remember.”

“You were talking to Boba. He said I wouldn’t break the Creed, even for the kid, if I had to. You said that I would, that my heart was in the fight.”

Want edged Din’s voice, powerful enough to get you to look up at him once more. His dark eyes were on you still and you don’t think they ever left. They dropped from your eyes to your lips and back again. As small as the shifting glance was, it was enough to tickle your stomach. You had to force yourself to stay still and quiet.

“You were right.”

“I am, most of the time, you’ll find,” you say breathlessly. It’s all you can manage.  

“Is that why you’re sticking around?”

“What?” You lick your lips nervously and curse yourself for it. 

“Because your heart is in this fight,” Din extends his hand as he speaks. In his open, gloved palm, the hilt of the Darksaber rested. You hadn’t truly even entertained the weapon, what it meant and stood for. Instead, your mind was clouded with Din, with want.

“In a sense.” 

Din raised his brows at you. “That’s a Guild answer. A hunter answer. Give me yours.”

You already know it, you want to say but you held your tongue back. Silence, tense and unyielding, fell over the two of you. Din held your gaze, not backing down on his request. It had taken him a few minutes, but he had found his confidence without the helmet. You smiled at the thought; he was a true Mandalorian. A sense of ease overwhelmed you, made you too comfortable and your tongue too loose.

“My heart is in the hands of the fighter.” 

You reached your hand over and pushed Din’s fingers closed over the hilt of the Darksaber. For a moment, you fingers lingered over his. You savored the warmth before pulling away. Finding enough courage, you held Din’s gaze again and felt your fear dissipate.

“But I think he knows that already.”

Din swallowed hard before replying, “he does.”

Burnt by embarrassment, you took a step back from him. Just as you were about to take another, dismiss yourself from the conversation and your ultimate rejection, there was a clang. You watched as Din’s helmet hit the floor and as he reached his newly free hand out. His gloved fingers wrapped around your wrist and pulled you back. You took not of his eyes again, how they flicked between yours and your lips. Was he nervous too?

“And he feels the same.”

“You-”

“I feel the same,” Din clarified, eyes focused solely on your face. 

Then, it was just the two of you again. Two Foundlings once lost then found again by the other. Wed to the fight but tied to each other. This was the way, wasn’t it? You felt sure it was.

When Din bent down and captured your lips with his, you felt all the more strongly about it. Whatever way, whatever path Din followed, you would be close behind. You were two bounty hunters, fallen from grace and into a world unprepared for what would follow.

[powdermelonkeg]

Here he is!!!

I decided to go a more sketchy route then clean lines, and I’m getting the hang of using references. He turned out so much better than I expected him to!! :D

For those of you unaware, this is my Linked Universe version of Cadence of Hyrule Link! Here’s his concept art.

Copying this from the text wall I made back when I was first gushing about him. Apologies for the uh...difficulty reading.

He's got a knack for instruments. Anything he picks up, he can figure out within a day or two of messing with it. He plays by ear, though; can't read sheet music.

He also doesn't know any actual song magic; he just likes to play. He would be VERY good at it if he ever learned.

He's most often seen with a kalimba (the thing used in the outtro of ATLA) that he made himself, but his real favorite instrument, if anyone asks, is the electric bass he got from the Bass Guitarmos knights.

He loves the spotlight, but less in a show-off-y sense and more in a golden-retriever sense. However, he doesn't shy away from negative attention; he turns it into a challenge. Someone accuses him of stealing from them? He makes it the entire room's problem, dramatically, and challenges them to a duel of honor.

He loves his duels. They're mostly dance-offs.

He has a really soft and melodic voice when he talks; it only spikes when he yells (or stabs something—"HYAH!"). He uses that to his advantage when serenading people.

Speaking of serenading, he falls in love VERY easily. All he has to do is notice that someone's pretty or kind to be totally smitten with them. He takes rejection well, though he'll be a little over the top when he talks about it to his friends ("Sigh...love is a cruel mistress at times. My heart can't take much more of this; any further, and it'll shatter like a glass bell." "...Dude, you okay?" "Fine, why?")

There is one person, though, that's kept his affections for awhile. It's actually really sad; he traveled with Cadence as he went to save Hyrule, and during that time, he fell into actual love with her (not impulsive puppy love). She was smart, strong, adventurous, had the prettiest laugh...But she went back to her home world before he could tell her how he felt about her...That's inaccurate, actually. He elected NOT to tell her, because he thought it would be cruel to do that the moment she was leaving.

He actually joins the Chain with an ulterior motive. He's hoping that as they travel worlds, they'll eventually come across Cadence's world, and he can find her again.

His beat ability is actually an extension of Hylian telepathy; he interprets the thoughts around him as music instead of words in a kind of telepathic synthesia.

It's helped him avoid most injuries on the field, because he's trained himself to know when that music means attack patterns. He often whistles the tune he hears to help himself keep "on beat" with it and avoid attacks on time.

He is to rings and tools what Wild is to weapons. Legend is in awe on how he can go through a sturdy shovel and ring of protection in five minutes flat, and won't let Cadenza NEAR his collection of artifacts because of it.

Unlike most of the others, Cadenza never got the Master Sword. His main weapon is Caladbolg, a rainbow claymore that's just a smidge too big for him and that leaves a trail of colors in the wake of its swing. He has an entire attic full of weapons, though, everything from spears to flails.

He likes sentimental jewelry; he keeps pictures of his friends in the Goron Locket, he adds charms to his charm bracelet whenever he feels like something big has happened in his life, and he wears blue flower earrings that were a gift from the Deku Scrub, Yves.

He has actually died. He has frequent nightmares about it. Every time he fails, the Fates keep sending him back, good as new, and it's...traumatizing. He can look at himself and see zero scars, feel zero pain even though he was just stabbed by a Darknut or frozen by a Wizzrobe. It's really messed with his sense of reality and burned out his adrenaline response, so he tends to be more reckless than anyone should reasonably be. And that's going to cause problems for him when he joins the Chain.

On a more lighthearted note, he absolutely plays the guitar riff whenever Robbie strikes a pose.

So that’s my boy!!!

Also, without the lute, because I did the details under it to reference later:

Also also, if you’re wondering what he’s playing, you’re never going to guess it. (I wish I could find a lute cover but my boy has a passion for rock so)

[rintarouweb]

BOYFRIEND HCS | MATSUKAWA ISSEI

pairing: matsukawa x gn!reader

genre: fluff!! 

warnings: unedited!

word count: 520

notes: happy birthday issei <3 this was honestly kinda rushed, i hope you enjoy though!! i also can’t believe it’s already march, wtf

⇢ matsukawa has a box he keeps in the top of his closet that’s just filled with things from his s/o or things he thinks are special to his relationship

 ⇢ he’s actually very sentimental and likes keeping little things people get him, especially things from his s/o! it’s honestly a random collection of things; some photos, bracelets, even a few sea shells and pretty rocks

⇢ keeps a polaroid of you in the back of his phone case, yes, and the rest of the polaroids and pictures of you two are tucked away in the box! there are also some bracelets you two got at a festival one summer, pictures from a photo booth, and tickets from the first concert you two went to together

⇢ if you’re the type to write letters, little notes, or even doodle on them - those things are also in the box

⇢ sometimes when he’s upset, he’ll pull the box out and look over everything because he’ll be reminded of the happy memories 

⇢ issei has some freckles, not too many on his face though. there are a few under his eyes, you can’t see them unless you’re very close to his face, and he has a few random spots scattered on his hands, arms, and shoulders. he finds them very pretty and gets excited whenever he sees that he has a new freckle

⇢ has such a nice smell. he always smells so good. mattsun has a strong scent but it’s a good one, whenever he leaves a room you can basically smell that he was just in there

⇢ definitely doesn’t mind when you wear his clothes! he has some clothes set aside in his wardrobe that he doesn’t wear much and doesn’t care about you wearing

⇢ at the start of your relationship, mattsun would always give you his jacket so he got into a habit of always having a spare jacket, hoodie, etc. to give to you if you needed or wanted it

⇢ a big fan of holding hands!! he’ll absentmindedly grab your hand and just hold it or start playing with your fingers. sometimes he’ll even start tracing the lines on your palm or place butterfly kisses on your fingers

⇢ he loves to give (and receive) forehead kisses. it’s become a way that he greets you and even says goodbye to you

⇢ when he wants your attention, he’ll poke your cheek until you’re so annoyed you stop what it is that you’re doing or you give him a kiss. kisses = happy mattsun

⇢ he’s good at giving people their space, seeing as he needs alone time too. if you’re studying or busy with work, he comes into the room every so often to give you some water, snacks, coffee, whatever you need and leaves you be

⇢ if he’s decided you’ve been working for too long, he’ll find his way over to you and pester you until you pay attention to him and agree on taking a break. sometimes he really just wants attention - other times he just worries about you overworking yourself 

[herglowinggirl]

Hello, familiar anon here, I didn't ask the question about an SOK ending where Yun lives and gains redemption. I also wouldn't mind having my own tag. I haven't found any other evidence of Yun shipping Kyoshi and Rangi outside of "The Boy From Makapu". How does Kyoshi view Yun later in her life( up to the first year after "The Meeting", creating Kyoshi Island nearly 25 years later, the last years of her life)? Would Kyoshi ever mention or talk about Yun after the events of The Shadow of Kyoshi?

hello! and yes I have some thoughts on this and how it would impact the advice Kyoshi gave to Roku and Aang. this got long but I’d love to break down parts of it to write fic, which I think I will do and perhaps post before Kyoshi Fortnight. But I digress, it’s long enough that I have decided to use subtitles. If anything skip to the end about the advice she gave Roku and Aang I think it’s most relevant to what I want to say and also my favorite part.

what I talk about under the cut: the ways I believe yun’s death would impact kyoshi’s actions after tsok and what the advice she gave aang and roku actually means (my thoughts on “only justice will bring peace” means)

would kyoshi talk about yun during her lifetime?

Yes. First off, it would be impossible to avoid him in the political landscape, because it is mentioned that he passed lots of judgements and signed treaties, ect. Although Kyoshi has grown in her leadership style and it’s turned a little (a lot) anti-establishment, she would still need to deal with the fallout of Yun not being the Avatar, because there would be a need to re-sign treaties and settle disputes with people seeking to take advantage of others now that the Avatar has “changed” would have to be dealt with and in tandem, Yun’s legacy.

But also, in a duology that features grief, I find it a natural continuation of the narrative that Yun would be mourned. You don’t stop knowing or loving someone after they pass, and I feel like mourning all of Yun—the boy he was, where he came from, his legacy, the decisions he made, the impact he had on the people around him, even how he hurt people—is only natural and is slightly unavoidable. I think Kyoshi mourns all of her deceased loved ones. 

Just, like the concept of this: she’s always hated pai sho but now when she faces a board in her gut and in her throat things feel wrong because it reminds her of what Yun had to do to survive. A breeze smells like the flour and air Kelsang sent into her face the moments before everything changed. She collects pebbles that Lek would’ve liked. Rangi brings her fire lilies for an anniversary and she starts crying. She sings songs with Wong that were her parent’s favorites that coincidentally, Kelsang knew too.

community in grief and kyoshi’s relationships

He was Rangi’s friend, too. Auntie Mui and Hei-Ran are sure to mourn him in their own ways. In tSoK Kyoshi calls her team Avatar a group of contradictions and misfits and in his way, Yun was too. The false Avatar. What a title! 

A continuation of the concept: Rangi and Kyoshi remind each other of him every day for a while, swapping stories about him when it gets to be too much, making eye contact when they can hear his voice making light of something stupid an official has said. Hei-Ran makes her do drills she made Yun do. Auntie Mui makes his favorite dish on his birthday that they do not pass in silence, because then what would they be, that group of misfits, to forget another outcast? If they don’t mourn the boy from Yokoya who will mourn them, or who would’ve mourned them if they hadn’t been so lucky? Who will care for the beggars and orphans of the world if not the Avatar who was once one of them and her companions? In a way, the retribution and pain of it all is justice for the life that Kyoshi took. Like, there’s just so much to unpack in the way she says “Was I right about anything at all? What will they say about me? Avatar Kyoshi, who killed her friend because she couldn’t save him?” But I don’t think her guilt would silence her. 

That being said, Yun was fundamentally a victim of a system that failed him. The same one that failed Kyoshi. In another way, her actions are justice on a world that failed her and her best friend and the similarities they shared, and she’s able to take those actions because of the way that Yun impacted her, for better or for worse. So yes, I think during her lifetime, she would speak of Yun and who he was, not letting people forget the ways they (and she) failed him and how easily everyone wants to forget their failure. It brings me to the way she was so angry with the Earth Kingdom establishment for discarding him and trying to hide history away. I don’t think she’d ever do that, even if she did...uh, dispatch him.

kyoshi, immortality, and her role as an avatar

I’d like to turn to two passages:

Kyoshi: “The way you describe it, you’d have to decide what version of yourself you’d be stuck as, forever.”

Lao Ge: “Exactly! Those who grow, live and die. The stagnant pool is immortal, while the clear flowing river dies an uncountable number of deaths.”

and

In the future, perhaps, she’d become finalized like carved stone. It would be easier to deal with the world then. She could only hope.

[...]

She still had to be careful not to lose her balance and fall. Kyoshi kept her eyes focused on her difficult path, sometimes stumbling but making sure to catch herself, taking one step at a time.

This isn’t directly related to what I think she would say, but more about how she lets her experiences, and therefore, her experiences and relationship with Yun, affect who she is. Here, F.C. Yee is detailing the person we see in her cameo in A:tLA. It’s a testament to her growth, yes, but also to how she lived so long. She’s allowed to grow now, while she’s young and still learning. But eventually Kyoshi’s growth will wane, leaving us with the iron woman we saw in A:tLA. 

Remember when I said I would call F.C. Yee a sap for the very last Kyoshi POV line? It’s the last sentence in my second excerpt, is that Kyoshi is allowing herself make mistakes. It’s pretty obviously a little deeper than the concept of walking down a slope: She became one of the most revered Avatars, we know how her story ends, if not lots of the in-betweens, but F.C. Yee tells us right here in that sentence. She changed and she learned. 

I think, however, that eventually she had to pick a place to stop in order to stop aging. If I had to pick a point where she became “immortal” I’d pick Rangi’s peaceful and timely death surrounded by her loved ones on Yokoya (not Kyoshi Island since I’m going to maintain that her A;tLA cameo was “immortal” Kyoshi) and I think Lao Ge killed her—or at least convinced her to let go.

further thoughts on her longevity: rangi’s role and future

Ok before anybody comes into my inbox like “um zey herglowinggirl I need you to know that actually Rangi also lived to 230 😌″ because I understand the sentiment it’s more like here’s what I’d like to discuss: Kyoshi can’t be immortal around Rangi because Rangi is in so many ways her catalyst for growth. First off, it would be completely out of character for Rangi to be immortal, because she’s constantly moving and being and feeling and judging and that changes her. Positive jing. And Lao Ge says it: “those who grow, live and die.” Rangi believes in the best and strives for the best, for perfection. For Kyoshi to freeze herself and become immortal, that would require picking an imperfect state. And as we know, Sei’naka women do not accept imperfection 😤. 

Although Rangi promises to always be by Kyoshi’s side, I think in the latter years of Kyoshi’s live it’s more like the impact that Rangi has had on her in that frozen state. That voice of Rangi’s is part of Kyoshi in those years. However, without Rangi, it is unlikely that Kyoshi will always or commonly choose to act on it. It’s stated multiple times throughout the novels that Rangi is Kyoshi’s center and that she doesn’t know who she’d be without Rangi, but I think the logical conclusion is immortal. With Rangi’s death she becomes her own center by stopping her growth; with Rangi’s death she just becomes...that stone she was talking about, where it does get easier to make decisions because you’re not striving to constantly change and grow. It’s almost a coping mechanism, if you will. Because Kyoshi is more than Rangi, can function without Rangi, it’s just not necessarily pretty.

lao ge’s role and future

Which brings me to my “in my personal version of canon Lao Ge kinda maybe killed Kyoshi” point. Rangi is in no way Kyoshi’s morality, but she is very much the idealistic ‘better’ half. With this catalyst of hope and change gone, I think back to the creation of the Dai Li—it very much sounds to me like something Jianzhu would do. Kyoshi, who had previously been the breakdown of negotiations, created a secret op police force? 

I think the moment Kyoshi started being the establishment, the moment she was the band-aid instead of the solution (much like Yun was, hint hint) Lao Ge would’ve paid her a visit. Either this or the creation of the Dai Li created a catalyst for perhaps an existential crisis, perhaps just being tired, perhaps simply knowing what is best...Kyoshi is, and always will be, a sworn criminal who cannot uphold the law, only her own judgements. She is both the law and the breaking and bending of it, and when she loses this balance when Rangi falls from her side and she becomes her own rock I think it would swing her away from her center, and this is where she becomes immortal. Eventually, it would become enough of an issue for people to intervene and tell her that her time as an Avatar is coming to an end. 

advice to future avatars

This is my favorite point and I’ll tie it back to Yun in just a second. I have posted about thinking about the impact of Yun’s death on Kyoshi and how that would’ve impacted her legacy and the advice she gave Roku and Aang before. Honestly what strikes me is how proud Kyoshi would be of Aang. The way that each Avatar must learn to forge their own way and become their own person and what their era needs, balancing themselves, is something so lovely. I think Kyoshi would’ve absolutely loved how Aang took the advice of his predecessors and said “no, I know what would be better for me,” and I think post-tSoK Kyoshi, who has learned she has to forge her own way and style as a leader, would love and be so proud of him for that. 

However, that doesn’t mean that her advice doesn’t have weight. I think mainly her “immortal” phase would perhaps have an impact on the way Yun impacts her advice. I think “only justice will bring peace” also speaks to the finality of death. Just like immortality, death keeps growth from happening. “only justice will bring peace” is also a nod to the way you must learn to cope with your actions and the way you feel about them. It’s also about Aang’s inner peace, which is something I don’t think I’ve ever seen mentioned. Everyone always wants to talk about what he should’ve done and how Kyoshi was right because she told Aang about her choice to let Chin die, but I think she actually guided him to the idea that you should be ok with yourself. To be confident in what you do and take up responsibility for your actions. Kyoshi wasn’t telling him murder was good. She was telling him she owned up to her actions and chose to make those decisions as an Avatar. To me, this finality speaks of growth after Yun’s death and the end of tSoK. She has grown and then frozen, but that means she has changed.

And although I don’t have an answer for what advice she might’ve given Roku, I think it’s a good way to interpret this. The only thing keeping Kyoshi from being honest about Yun’s death is the fact that Zoryu has “Yun” locked up. I think this is likely one of her biggest regrets, that she cannot be honest and responsible for something that weighs so heavily on her soul. This, I think, guides her advice. Only justice will bring peace. Now that I’ve thought it out, perhaps it wasn’t Lao Ge, and perhaps it was the idea that Yun had never been done justice and perhaps that turmoil never changed, which made her long-lived but not quite immortal. She cannot quite know the peace of death nor of life.

I think she must’ve told Roku that no matter what, he must accept the consequences of what he does. He’s not willing to loose that friendship and I think Kyoshi would’ve understood that, and the questions Roku would’ve had to pose himself as an Avatar. That is Kyoshi’s advice. Only justice, true justice in the form of accountability and self-actualization as a leader, will allow you to make good decisions. The acceptance of this: that whatever he does, he must be willing to accept it’s legacy, learn from it, and teach the next Avatar just as she let Yun’s death affect her leadership and what she taught. And I think that’s probably incredibly poetic, even if I’m getting a bit ahead of myself.