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azrielwingspan · 1 year ago

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'SOMEONE' (AZRIEL X READER)- PART 2

Summary: You are convinced that Azriel was the one to send the note. Anxious about facing him, you lose yourself in your head but strangely, things are turning out...weird.

Warnings: Mild swearing

A/N: Thankyou so much for the response on the first part you guys! It was supposed to be a one shot but due to popular demand, I wrote down a second. Not gonna lie, I'm a bit nervous about this because peer pressure haha. Really hope this meets expectations. Did my best to make it fun and playful.

Read Part-1 here.

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'It's hard not to pry when you're involved.' The words kept flitting through your mind , jumbling your thoughts and stirring up a butterfly party in your stomach.

You knew it was from Azriel. Who else could it be ? Not believing it at first, you tried to think of all other possibilities and came up with zero. No else could possibly know about it.

Except him.

After stewing upon the unexpected turn of events for a good couple of hours, you did something anyone else in your position would've done.

You tried to hide.

From a spymaster.

You were really setting standards in the department of intelligence.

It had all started when you were having lunch with Cass and Mor at the House of Wind. "How was your new book?" Mor asked stuffing herself with the mashed potato in front of her. "It was alright. It just felt a little flat." you stabbed at the piece of chicken on your plate.

"Why the gloomy face? Everything okay?" Cass looked at your face intently. You sat up a little straighter, forcing a small smile onto your face. "I'm great."

"Are you on something?" Your head shot towards Mor, a flabbergasted look on your face.

"What made you say that?"

"You've been acting weird since yesterday and just this morning you stared off into space with a stupid smile on your face. Now, you're gloomy. I've seen this before--"

"Oh for Mother's sake, I'm not on anything Mor." A choked laugh burst out of you at the incredulity of it.

"Is it because of the stable boy thing yesterday? Shit Y/N, we didn't know you still --"

You narrowed your eyes at Cass , daring him to finish that statement. He immediately backed off, putting up his hands in the air.

"Just a concerned friend." He said with a teasing smile.

"You guys are the worst." Soft laughter was shared between the three of you before disaster struck.

Footsteps echoed from the stairwell making your head whip towards it. Eyes widening a fraction, your brain was thrown into a whirlpool of thoughts , each one fighting for dominance over the other. You knew with absolute certainty that it was him. There was no one else in the house. You also knew the sound of his footsteps but that was a fact to be pondered upon on a different day.

Wait, he was a spymaster. Why was he making a sound in the first place?

He wants you to know. Doesn't want to catch you off guard. The still functioning part of your brain helps you out.

"Are you having a seizure?" Mor's voice registered in your head.

"No , but I might." you muttered under your breath, your body reacting before your mind could give it a command. Almost stumbling from your chair all the while trying to look as unbothered as possible, you excused yourself from the table mumbling a reason to your companions.

Exit points available. The stairwell. Your mind supplied. YOU CAN'T PASS BY HIM. DO BETTER.

The plant. - THE PLANT ?! What were you supposed to do ? Photosynthesize yourself ?!

Under the table.- Ah yes. Have a front row view to his crotch. Way to go.

Balcony.- We don't have WINGS! You screamed at yourself.

The door to your right.- Finally. A good option.

Your face must have exhibited a plethora of emotions during the internalized battle with yourself because Mor and Cass were staring at you like you had two heads.

"Y/N. Please sit down. Something is seriously wrong." Cass said rising from his chair.

"No. No. I just forgot to do something very very important. I'm going to be screwed. I just need to---"

"Have lunch. I'll help you out with whatever it is." The voice like night whispered over your skin setting off goosebumps in its wake. His scent enveloped you, taunting and teasing your senses. It almost seemed to whisper- Look at me.

So you did.

You had expected a smirk or a smile or even a twinkle in his eye. Nothing. No hint or trace of what had happened. No clue to suggest that he knew or that he was the one to send the note.

What if you were wrong? What if it wasn't him but someone else playing a joke on you?

"No it's alright. I..." You didn't get to finish the sentence as he pulled your chair back and motioned for you to sit down.

Sighing out loud you returned to your place at the table trying not to look at Azriel as he took the seat across. "What did you forget?" Cass was starting to sound suspicious. Racking your brain for a quick and believable answer, you blurted out "I have to respond to a letter. A very important one."

The double meaning of your reply hit you the moment it left your mouth. Your body betrayed you and turned your gaze towards Azriel.

Nothing. Blank as a slate.

Starting to grow frustrated, you stabbed into your chicken a little too enthusiastically.

"It's already dead." Azriel said dryly, not even bothering to look up from his food.

Mor let out a snort and thankfully started to recall a conversation she had with a friend of hers. You could feel the tension leave your body as the conversation and attention was steered away from you.

Get your shit together.

Fortunately, all of you were done eating not long after and everyone went back to their duties. Azriel hadn't said or done anything for the rest of the afternoon and you were seriously starting to doubt if you were wrong.

You made your way back to your room trying to make sense of your emotions along the way. There was a sense of relief that Azriel didn't know and yet it was tinged with the undertones of disappointment that he didn't know after all.

Did you want him to know or did you not?

You didn't know. UGH. Idiot.

Stepping into your room, you almost missed the note that caught under your foot.

Fuck. Another one.

Heart thudding painfully, you picked it up with trembling hands. It read:

Anyone is capable of falling in love with your heart. Me? I want to be the someone you give it to. -'Someone'

A/N: I did not intend to end it this way at all but here we areeee. Hope you guys enjoyed it !

TAGLIST : @crazylokonugget , @hayrunnwr , @fxckmiup , @wildlyobserving , @harrystylesfan2686 , @63angel , @charlotteintumbleland , @willowpains , @nyx-the-alien , @acourtofbatboydreams , @marina468 , @anuttellaa , @kalulakunundrum , @amygdtjhddzvb , @lulu22156

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izzythehutt · 6 months ago

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I think it's hilarious that Rhett Butler is the model for every subsequent alpha male romance hero, because he's actually one of literature's most desperate simps. Rhett is only saved from the appearance of simp-hood because the woman he's simping for has the emotional intelligence of a potato.

Evidence!!!

Pays $150 (equivalent to $5.5k in today money) in gold to dance with object of affection he knows hates him. Implied he shells out more gold for subsequent dances. This is 1860s equivalent of OnlyFans subscriber behavior.

Stays in a dangerous war-zone purely to save object of affection/simp-hood from invading army in the hopes of a gratitude hookup. Risked life to steal a horse for her, only to get one brief make-out, a slap on the face and a death wish as reward.

Risks getting arrested by returning to city he doesn't even like to see the chick who when he last saw her said she hoped a cannon ball fell on top of him. Upon seeing her is so desperate he nearly proposes marriage despite her clear gold-digging motives.

Only saved by sight of her need money gold-digging work hands, then is a sulky bitch about almost being honey-trapped. Can't resist asking if there are other backup men his goddess is about to con in place of him and even gives advice on how to trick them more effectively. PEAK SIMPING. Laughs it off two weeks later while also rushing to give her the money anyway!

Drives object of affection/simp-hood to and from dangerous job while she is married to/pregnant by another man!!! This is Richard Nixon driving Pat to and from dates with other men behavior!!!

Proposes marriage to object of simp-hood on day of her last husband's funeral, threatens to sing outside her window if she doesn't say yes. Bullies her into a yes, despite her pointing out she doesn't love him and is mostly agreeing to have access to his money.

Tries to play it cool but then passive-aggressively points out that she should at least pretend she loves him and, you know, say the words or whatever. Makes extremely pathetic joke about how "some wives falling in love with their husbands." RHETT. STWAP.

Tries to play the whole marriage proposal off like it's FWB/FB situation, as if he hasn't had a massive obvious crush on her for six years and doesn't have financial interest in a brothel and plenty of access to other women that he's not offering marriage to.

Builds her a tacky McMansion and enables all her worst tendencies of taste in the vain hope that NOW she'll love him.

When she's caught "cheating" on him finally gets so drunk that he can admit his own self-loathing at his simpitude and the weight of it breaks him free into true alpha status. Only saved from marital rape accusation by the fact that it's the one time his wife actually enjoys sex, probably because he's not simping for once!!! You should have tried this years ago Rhett!!!

Can't resist listing off his entire history of simping even when he's leaving her.

#gone with the wind #rhett butler #gwtw #scarlett o'hara #this is not even an exhaustive list tbh #i actually do love rhett but man was he saved from looking pathetic #by how obtuse scarlett is

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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 2 years ago

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Everything and More

summary: The reader finds herself completely and utterly exhausted, and her husband takes care of her. Plays in the same universe as "I am his and he is mine" but can totally be read as a standalone

notes: I used my Strong!OCs names for this oneshot, but they have no connection to this story. I just love the names and decided to reuse one of them.

warnings: smut, afab!reader, dom/sub dynamics, soft!dom harwin, harwin calls reader his queen :)

tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper @cookielovesbook-akie @a-beaverhousen @ilikeitbetterangsty (msg me to be added/removed to any taglist)

masterlist | based on this request

Alaric Strong had to be the babe with the largest lung capacity in the entire world. Again and again, you rocked your firstborn son, praying to the Gods that he would fall asleep. In the Westerlands, it was common to have an army of wetnurses to care for a babe, but Harwin was of the Riverlands, where even one wetnurse was not always common.

You had decided that you wanted to keep to his tradition, which meant that you had to wait another few minutes until you could hand over Alaric for the night. Truly, you loved your son with all your heart, but there was also another headaches beginning to pound away in your skull, and Harwin was always busy with the City Watch.

When the wetnurse finally did arrive, you almost feel to your knees then and there, smiling at her as she took your son out of your arms.

She told you to take a rest with a motherly smile, and you felt your eyes water from exhaustion on the spot. Still, you pushed that down and began to drag yourself to your chambers, only a few steps away.

Alaric’s cries faded in the background as you opened the door to your shared bedroom. You’d already asked the maid to run a bath for you after not having showered for a week, but as you saw the dinner that was spread out in front of you, you only sat down at the table silently.

The smell of roast, potatoes and gravy, soft bread and tomatoes filled your nose as you sat at the table. In one bowl, you spotted strawberries so red they could only have been imported from your home, the Westerlands.

As the other door to your husband’s solar opened, you dragged yourself to stand up. It was a thing of respect to greet your husband, a manner that had been hammered into you by your mother for as long as you remembered.

“My lord.” You greeted tiredly, your knees protesting as you gave a small curtsy. Harwin quickly closed the distance between the two of you, helping you sit. He took your hand, a kiss dusting your knuckles.

“My wife. My queen.” He greeted quietly.

“How was the City Watch?” you asked, beginning to assemble his plate. You knew that, in the evenings, Harwin preferred a smaller cut of meat, so you gave him a larger portion of potatoes instead. Gently, Harwin held your wrist, and you looked up at him, confused.

“Rest.” Harwin said. “I owe you an apology. I had not realised how tiring it was to take care of my son until the wetnurse almost smacked some sense into me. I am sorry, my wife, for not taking care of you earlier.”

He took the plate, making another as you liked it and handing it to you.

You barely managed your prayer before you began to eat, not having realised how hungry you’d been up until now. Harwin ate more slowly, and you could feel his eyes on you. His gaze was usually something you could read, but today, a range of emotions seemed to be hidden behind gentle brown eyes.

“Alaric is growing fast.” You said, clearing your plate. “He is healthy, and the wetnurse says he’s one of the most intelligent babes she’s ever taken care of.”

“No doubt all thanks to you.” Harwin replied with a small smile. You snorted, trying to clear the table before Harwin stopped you and did so himself.

Harwin only sighed, letting the servants carry out the remainders of dinner. As they bustled around in the room, you saw some of them returning with buckets of hot water, filling your tub to the brim. Another servant carried a small tube with expensive oil, pouring some of it into the water.

You wanted to protest, but by the time you thought you had found the courage, Harwin had already sent the servants away.

He made to help you with your dress, and you wanted to stop him again.

“I reek.” You said.

“Precisely the purpose of this bath. And even so, you do not.” Harwin assured. “You have helped me bathe after long days of patrolling Flea Bottom. Please, let me help you.”

With a sigh, you nodded, letting Harwin unlace your dress. You pulled your shift over your head quickly, sinking into the hot water with a sigh. With a man like Harwin, no one would expect gentleness from him at first glance.

You had learned to expect just that. Carefully, he unwound your hair, taking out braids and pins until the pull on it disappeared and you felt as if you could breathe normally again. You rubbed your temples in annoyance.

The hair itself was not too bad, but wearing it for an entire day was a whole other story.

Harwin was already attending to it by the time you leaned back, carefully washing your tresses before he moved on to your shoulders, working the knots out of them. You sighed in relief, smiling up at him.

Gently, Harwin kissed your cheek before he returned to work, large hands kneading your neck and shoulders, before he began working on your back.

“Thank you for this.” You mumbled, and Harwin smiled.

“Anything for my lady.” He replied.

“I thought I was your queen.” You joked, and Harwin sighed.

“Oh gods, how could I forget. My lady, my queen. The mother of my child.”

You turned around, placing your arms onto the edge of the tub and looked up at Harwin again. He knelt down at the side of the tub, until his and your face were at one height. You kissed him without hesitation, letting Harwin hold you as he always did, his arms security in an unsure world as the Red Keep.

“I was going to keep going.” Harwin whispered, but the darkness in his pupils told you he was already thinking of something else. Your smile lingered for a moment, before you turned back around, excitement growing in your belly.

“Go on then.” You said calmly, your tone almost as commanding as his sometimes was. Harwin let out a rasp of a laugh, his hands dutifully returning to your shoulders. It did not escape your notice that he let them drift lower, fingers dipping below the water and ghosting over your chest. You tried not to shiver as a thrill ran through you.

Between everything, it had been too long.

You waited, anticipating Harwin’s next move as his hands dipped under the water, shamelessly palming your breasts. There was no way in all seven hells that you could let him know the effect he was already having on you. Yet.

As tension began to gather in your stomach, you bit down on your lower lip, hands not-so-idly playing with water.

Then, you sat up straight, sweetly asking Harwin for your towel. You swore you could hear him chuckling under his breath.

“My queen.” He said dryly, holding out the fabric for you. You stood, taking it from him calmly and wrapping yourself in the towel.

“Now that will not do.” Harwin mused.

“No?”

“Not at all. You look so much more beautiful without the towel.” Harwin replied. You were sure he could see your blush, and still, you maintained your façade.

“Really?” you managed, your voice shaky.

“Yes, really. I would never lie to my queen.”

You held out your hand, Harwin steadying you as you stepped out of your bath. He adjusted your towel, pulling it a little higher as if he cared for your modesty.

“Wouldn’t want my queen to be dressed improperly.” He said. You laughed at that, holding the towel with one hand and his face with the other, kissing him with a smile. You could feel him smiling as he kissed you back, and in that moment, you felt inexplicably relieved.

Soon, the kiss turned hungry, and Harwin was guiding you away from your already cold bath and towards your shared bed.

“There’s no need for a towel.” He rasped. “No need.”

You nodded, your hand dropping from your chest and instead steadying yourself on his. Quickly, you made work of his doublet, the thick garment dropping to the floor. Harwin broke the kiss, taking his time to look at you.

Long gone were the times where you would have covered yourself, now much too comfortable to think of your insecurities. Harwin would have incessantly reminded you of how beautiful he found you anyway, and, though you loved your husband, you had no time for talk tonight.

Harwin hoisted you up, setting you down on the bed as he undid his tunic and breeches. You laughed as he kissed up your stomach, his beard tickling you.

“What is it you want, my love? Hmm?” Harwin asked as he reached your neck.

“I don’t know.” You replied mindlessly, pulling him up to kiss you.

“That will not do.” Harwin sighed. “Good queens use their words to get what they want.”

You paused for a moment, trying to think through the thick haze of your mind. Then, you smiled at him.

“Do you remember our wedding night?” you asked quietly. You remembered how Harwin had spent what had to be hours between your legs, only to make sure that you were fully comfortable with him.

“How could I forget?” Harwin replied. “Is that what you want? For me to kiss your cunt until you’re squirming?”

You nodded, smiling at him perhaps too enthusiastically, for Harwin bared his teeth in a smile you knew you’d remember later on. His mouth wandered downwards, Harwin taking his time to mark you, sucking lovebites into your breasts and onto your thighs.

Impatiently, you tried to have him where you wanted him, but Harwin simply laughed against your inner thighs, the vibration just enough to be felt. He teased you, stretching minutes into an eternity as he kissed and licked your thighs, moving just around the points of pleasure you wanted him to be at.

He wants you to break down, to beg for it like a good wife, like the good little lady he trained you to be, and you’re too desperate not to. Your thighs wrap around his head in an attempt to push him down, but your husband is the strongest knight in all the Seven Kingdoms, and so, he only laughs.

“Please, Harwin.” You whine. “You promised. Please, please-“

It is little encouragement that he needs in order to return between your thighs, this time licking a stripe up your cunt that leaves you reeling. Despite what little he has done, you are ridiculously close.

His hands are everywhere, grasping yours, groping your breasts, pulling you closer, teasing you. They circle your hole, dipping inside of you carefully, almost experimentally. And then, he pushed inside of you, fingers curling up and your eyes rolled backwards, mouth open in a silent plea.

Suddenly, all the patience was gone from Harwin. It was always like this. He could control himself as long as you could, and when you lost control, truly began to squirm under him, he did not hold back any longer either. And why should he? You deserved this.

His mouth was on you in a feverish, obsessive way, Harwin licking you like he was a starving man. Before you could say anything else, he crooked his fingers up again, rubbing against that sweet spot and sucking your clit until you saw stars. The coil in your belly snapped, and you distantly heard yourself moaning his name.

Harwin did not stop, he kept going until you felt hot and the pleasure became too much.

“Please, Harwin, I can’t.” you gasped, and he paused, looking up at you.

“Already?” he laughed, his mouth back on you before you before you could answer, your nod left unseen.

“Please, Harwin, please. I need to-“ you gasped, and Harwin slowly lessened his onslaught, moving from your cunt to your thighs, until he was face to face with you again. His face glistened with your juices, and still, Harwin kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You grabbed his hips in a desperation to have him buried inside you, and Harwin obliged, filling you up so quickly that it left you gasping, hands pawing at his back as he thrust forward.

“Let us make another.” He said, eyes still dark, smile still predatory. How you loved seeing him like this.

“What?” you gasped, trying to catch your breath.

“We should make a baby.” He said. “A little sister for our son. Please, my love.”

You nodded almost automatically, and Harwin let his hand wrap around the back of your neck. He kissed you hungrily, as if he hadn’t already had enough from you, but you returned his actions with equal fervour.

“Gods, how I love you.” Harwin whispered, his kisses warm on your neck.

And when his movements became more uncoordinated, and Harwin’s hips began to stutter, you held him close, so incredibly close that it was easy to forget everything else.

“We should get married anew.” He said afterwards.

“And why is that?” you asked.

“I wouldn’t mind having this every night.” Harwin simply laughed. You felt that you were right where you needed to be.

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all-cf-me · 4 months ago

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If anyone else had suggested such a thing Dodge would've dismissed them entirely, maybe even called them out on their foolishness, but Mercy... Her ache is his own. He may not believe that the solar flare was meant to be God's holy wrath, but this guilt must come from somewhere. Somewhere he can't see. Just like it was before, when Mercy was locked in her tiny cathedral of faith and blessings and miracles and Dodge was just a man staring at a wall. "God gave you a sign, then? That the flare would happen?"

The familiar frown of confusion settles on Dodge's brow as she speaks, as it often does when the subject matter even slightly transcends the usual, but he listens attentively all the same - all he knows is that he hears the burden of guilt and sorrow in a voice that represents everything soft and good, and that he's anxious to fix it. "God reached out His... the flare?" Dodge gently prompts, leaning forward slightly on the table, head as low as his own voice. "You wish you would've stayed on the surface?"

#dodge and mercy #unfortunately one has to WANT to be deprogrammed #and dodge has the emotional intelligence of a potato :/

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metalichotchoco · 1 year ago

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Robots and their voices

Get ready because this is a long one ;]

A lot of the time characters are defined by their voices but with ai/ robotic characters this works overtime since it’s usually the only outlet into their emotions or character. They can get away with being an off screen presence since they typically aren’t psychical in nature. For all purposes in most cases they are nothing but their voice

Like with Hal, the only way we receive information about this character in visual mediums is his voice. It’s soothing like a lullaby, careful with even tones,smooth.Prideful in the sense of confidence not arrogance. You can hear his ego at being a perfect machine but it’s not boastful there’s no smirk when he says that. It’s how he views himself. You can imagine Hal with a soft smile for most of the movie, trying not to alarm staff. Only at the end does his voice get small, when he pauses for more time than normal as if to take a breath you cannot hear and that he does not need.

Edgar is loud and brash when feeling intense emotion which is a lot. He’s screechy and almost awkward in tonality. When he’s in a better mood he’s still peppy and small sounding. A sense of confusion is what a lot of lines read as but once he looks it up or figures it out, he’s much lower and monotone. With the Cinderella dialogue it sounds like he’s reading the information straight off the website he found it from.hes hot and cold he’s immature. A pest more than a true menace, due to his “newness” he doesn’t talk down to the humans in the movie but he’s underhanded and petty, craving love and attention and begging to be heard. A lot of the time you can hear his voice sort of breaking. It’s probably an audio issue from the time the movie was made, a filter over the actors voice but it works incredibly well for him.

Glados and her lines ooze sarcasm. She talks down to you more like you’re a nuisance she has to deal with than an equal in any sense (until potato glad but she’s almost a completely different character,not quite though) you can hear the exact moment she lies to you directly, diegectically it’s as if she needs to find a loophole to lie to your face so there’s a slight disconnect. Glados has a very singsong voice, her pronunciation going into higher and lower registers to express emotion rather than actually putting in actual anger or happiness into the monotone. It does a good job of selling this robotic lady who doesn’t view you with any sort of respect until she has to in the second game.

Whealtey by comparison is very non robotic in his voice or manner which makes sense since he’s a personality core and none of the standard robotic traits like objectivity, rationality, intelligence or indifference are present in him specifically on purpose. He’s anxious but optimistic, he rambles to sound like he knows what he’s talking about but it makes it even more apparent he has zero clue what he’s doing. You can immediately tell he’s incompetent at his job from the second you first really talk to him and it makes him all the more endearing.his power trip doesn’t exactly change that either, just attempts to self aggrandize, look and feel important. He sounds “confident” but he talks to the point where you realize just how insecure and unsure he is about anything. The British accent is also weirdly enough feeding into his fake intellectualism since Americans tend to view people with said accent as smarter even if they aren’t saying anything particularly smart.

The narrator is what you’d get if you crossed glados and Whealtey’s attitudes to character voice work but that’s reductive to him and the Stanley parable in general. The whole game is predicated on whether or not you listen to him/ mess with him. It’s an interactive story in the most basic of descriptions. The narrator is literally trying to talk you through a story and gets more distressed and annoyed as the player tries to exert and wrestle control from him. When you think of a narrator this type of voice comes to mind, a British masculine monotone that ebbs and flows with the story. This whole game is a meta narrative so it’s a very smart choice for this to be the case. There’s no robotic tone to his voice because that’s not the point, he’s basically the only real character in the game which makes him feel more human than the actual human we control who cannot speak, only act. He’s the one that makes us feel anything about the game. More the most part the narrator conveys a self assured calm tone, a blank canvas to react to the players weird actions.

Last for today is am and oh boy is he a doozy. Mr Ellison really does his creation justice on how powerful his performance can be. Am in the game and radio drama are actually sort of different characters but it makes sense since in the game he’s literally playing a game with the survivors whereas in the radio drama we get closer to the actual book. For a lot of these characters, the protagonists tend to be silent or reclusive but for am to still be as dominant of a presence with 5 other speaking roles is a testament to the type of character he is. For game am, he sounds almost like a car salesman. He talks down to the survivors, even very obviously flirting with them. You can imagine the mile wide grin on his face when he pulls something. But he’s not exactly desperate, more just like he’s playing a sick little game. Am does things that not even the most human sounding ais do, blowing raspberrys, coughing, laughing, crying. His cadence even makes it feel as if he’s breathing even though you cannot hear it. He’s very intense and visceral. He can go from relaxed and playful to manic and deranged so naturally and it’s what makes him so scary. This computer is far far too human. Everything he does also reminds you that he cannot move or breathe, he cannot scream or cry but it’s clear that he should. The reality of what he is looms over this performance. For as sad as he gets, no tears will flow.his chest will not move because he does not have one.

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celaenaeiln · 2 years ago

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Please talk more about B & D’s “unable to be defined/labeled dynamic/relationship as it encompasses many labels yet at the same time cannot be fitted to just one label” dynamic 🙏

I'd be delighted to!!

Link to original post

In the previous post I had included a panel where Bruce is referred to Dick as his "surrogate father, mentor, friend, and partner." These words could not be more different from each other and while they should not be used in conjunction with each other, they have never suited these two people more. In fact I don't there is any character pairing in any fandom that has the same dynamic that these two have. Dick and Bruce's relationship has a complicated depth to it that Bruce and the rest of his children don't have.

I think the most confusing thing is when Bruce constantly confuses Dick being a son and a partner.

First thing I want to start off with is that Dick and Bruce used to sleep in beds so close together it looks like one bed. In the 1950's this arrangement was known as the "twin beds" which were typically used for married couples. Children slept in a separate bedroom which begs the question why Dick and Bruce had a sleeping arrangement similar to that of marriage partners. This is the first weird thing about their relationship.

Not to mention, the romantic boat rides they used to take together. But was this normal then between father and son or is it just a romantic thing now, I don't know. As well as when they decided bronzing themselves naked next to each other. Not really sure what was going on there, if it was acceptable during that time or what but I do know that the reason that creators decided to send Dick to college in 1970 was because they wanted to beat the gay batman and robin allegations. It's weird as hell that they even came up with these ideas. Also the robin crossdressing. For justice, am I right?!

I feel these instances are important because it breaks any barriers they have between them. They're so (platonically for me) intimate that there's nothing but each other in their souls. One of the key reasons that their relationship is vague and intense and encompassing.

Dick is also considered Bruce's partner intellectually.

Instead of Dick listening to Bruce and following behind, as it's often shown in robin comics, they talk on equal terms. There's other moments of this shown too:

I think this is the reason why Bruce considers Dick a partner. He's not only exceedingly intelligent, but he even at a young age he's able to keep up with Bruce's thought process as an equal when even the justice league and other major adult heroes fail to do. Bruce's inventions are Dick's inventions because they played an equal role in creating them. This is why he's called the Prodigal Son.

Now onto him being a best friend and a son mix.

We know the classic example of Dick expecting to be Bruce's best man and Bruce thinking the same. But there are other moments that indicate that too.

But it isn't one sided because Dick also sees Bruce as his best friend:

Dick punching Bruce in the throat and single handedly carrying him like a sack of potatoes is just funny as hell.

Also including the fact that Dick and Bruce embody sleepover, besties behavior:

BUT HERE'S WHERE IT GETS JUICY.

Having your child act as your bestfriend is terrible for your child's mental health.

I'm speaking from personal experience but when your parent trauma dumps their life onto you at a young age, you mature emotionally much faster than you're supposed. You start becoming aware of people's thoughts and emotions at a deeper level and you start attuning yourself to others. In layman's terms: you change yourself to be able to meet your parent's high expectations and act as an emotional sponge for their anger, sorrow, disappointment, and frustration about their own life.

I'm not hesitant to admit that Dick's manipulation tactics most likely stem from this behavior. He knows what he wants and he will do anything to get it. This doesn't mean he's a bad person though. In fact I give him the highest level of respect of any character because all his intentions are good. He doesn't cheat, lie, or trick people into killing themself or harming others or bringing them down. He does it to make their lives better which is-I'm sorry, I don't have the proper words to express the multitudes of emotion I'm feeling for that.

(I nearly went into a massive monologue about how other people view his manipulation but that's for another post. )

This is also where things get complicated, and why we know Bruce and Dick as the way they are.

Dick has become so emotionally and mentally adept that he's able to pick up on others' thoughts and attitudes (Bruce specifically) before they even realize them. This is why Bruce is so dependent on Dick for everything. In one comic Garth says "Dick's a good listener."

I'm going to deviate for a minute here and include a panel that shows how this personality trait affects Dick's other roles:

Speaking more about Bruce's impact on Dick, there's this:

Aside from the huge ass painting on the wall of just the two of them-the panel is another perfect example of the complicated depth to them. They see each other as equals and when something interferes with that perception, then they start having problems. It haunts Bruce that the 8yr old he took in is equally matched to him in skill and ability but he also recognizes that Dick is too young to be able to do so. He should not have to experience the pain and responsibility of an adult but Bruce can't just get rid of him because Dick is the only one capable of keeping up with him. His heart also breaks when Dick is away (he starts crying in a panel multiple panels as Dick is leaving). For Dick he's already far used to the roles and responsibilities that he doesn't consider his age a factor as to why Bruce refuses to let him do the same things. This is a source of miscommunication between them. Bruce knows Dick can succeed at anything given to him but feels he shouldn't have to deal with those things. And Dick doesn't understand the hesitance when he's proven to have accomplished those tasks and greater before.

To expand, Dick's relationship with Bruce reminds me of Slade's relationship with Billy Wintergreen when Deathstroke tells him "You've been with me through everything...but now I have to say goodbye when you're unconscious or else I can't do it." Or something along those lines, the vibes are the same.

Oh yes, and this scene too:

Which mimics a lot of the confusion other characters have over Dick and Bruce's relationship.

But the difference between Slade and Billy vs Dick and Bruce is that Dick and Bruce's relationship is blurred on ALL fronts. There's not a single moment where Bruce has viewed Dick strictly as a son.

This leads me into the mentor aspect.

Note: while Dick knows Bruce the best, Bruce also knows Dick the best of all his children. There's a certainty to the way he speaks about Dick's abilities that he lacks when discussing his other sons'. That doesn't mean he doesn't know what they can do-he well aware and knowledgeable-it just means that his relationship with and understanding of Dick far exceeds what he has with the others.

Holy crap there's so much I'm bouncing all over the place-let me go back for second to partners.

Everyone knows this iconic scene whether you're in the fandom or not:

But few people know what comes next-

From the dawn of Batman and Robin comics, Batman has been obsessed with controlling Dick. I don't understand why he doesn't use his manipulative tactics on anyone else. There's a comic panel where Dick tells Barbara, "...you and Bruce don't need to manipulate me into doing what you guys want." It was always his way or the highway with him and Bruce reflects on this again in Batman and Robin Eternal. Dick also tells Bruce he's being pig-headed during the 1966 comic version of the Warner Brother's film and when Bruce asks him "Am I really pig-headed?" Alfred goes "hell yeah." Essentially.

(Also going to sneak this in as another example of why Dick wasn't an angry robin to a previous post

)

Ofcourse Bruce seems him as a son too:

THE FULL ON SMILE HE HAS ON HIS FACE JUST LISTENING TO DICK TALK!!!

Also in the linked previous post there's the panel of Bruce begging the judge not to take away his son from him. "Dick is like my own son!I've even changed my will so that incase of my death, Dick will get my entire fortune! You honor, I...I love that boy! Please don't take him from me!"

We already know many references about Dick being labelled Dick's son so I'll leave this aside for now.

Now here's the main point- the way Bruce and Dick interact with each other has so much history they're unable to explain themselves to others or each other. There's so many complex emotions between the two of them that sometimes even they're confused.

But seriously. What is your obsession with Dick, Bruce?

Lemme explain.

As everyone knows Dick and Clark are best friends. They are so close to the point where Bruce actually sweeps the stuff off his desk in the batcave and says "LET ME JUST GET RID OF ALL OUR TROPHIES. I'LL JUST MAKE ROOM FOR THE ADVENTURES OF SUPERMAN AND ROBIN INSTEAD!"

WTFFFFF BRUCE. WHY ARE YOU GETTING JEALOUS OF YOUR 15YR OLD'S FRIENDSHIP?

Oh, yes, what trophies am I talking about? Trophies of their battles together of course!

Which means the batcave is memorabilia of their time together. You know what that also means? It means that Bruce sulks in the Batcave because in the cave, he can literally surround himself with the time he spent with Dick.

Bruce is so abnormal about Dick. He sees Dick as an all in one. Every single relationship category you can think of, Bruce has bundled it up and put it into Dick. If all their various relationships became a physical string, Bruce would have a leash on Dick that resembles a thick, corded rope. So if you cut one thread of, say, friendship, the rope won't tear become the other threads of partnership, family, and other ambiguous threads would still hold them together.

Bruce has a leash on Dick but something Dick doesn't know and Bruce won't admit is that Dick has a leash on him too.

HERE'S THE INSECURITY WITH DICK AGAIN. THE MAN THINKS THE WORLD OF DICK BUT HE'S HORRIFIED AT THE THOUGHT, AT THE POSSIBILITY, THAT DICK DOESN'T FEEL THE SAME OF HIM.

He's constantly seeking reassurance of his place with Dick through the only way he knows how-manipulation. While Bruce consistently distances himself from his son, he's doing it on purpose so Dick will come running back to him. I mean-isn't that what he did with Jason? Expelling Dick in fury and fear and not telling Dick about taking in a new robin?

In the comic Dick drops by and tells him "I found out through a newspaper and since I haven't been robin..." to which Bruce responds horrified and guilty. He knows what he's doing. He just doesn't want to get caught as to why.

Others have picked on this obsession he has with Dick too:

Someone clearly knew the importance of Nightwing to Batman. They knew what his death would do to him. And in response Bruce went out of his way-to a foreign land-just to take revenge on the man who almost took “his boy” away from him. Leaving with a parting promise, an oath, to hunt down the other one and leave him crippled for life too. Did Batman know KG Beast would survive or did he just leave it up to fate?

In the previous panel, apart from KG Beast calling Dick "your boy" to Batman, it's only implied though. So how do we know if Dick really does have that much weight to Bruce? Well not only is it confirmed, it is engraved in stone:

And when the blast nearly kills Dick, Bruce nearly kills the man who did it. WITH A GUN.

Also him trying to strangle Lex Luthor to death before Lex chokes out in between stolen gasps that Dick's not actually dead but he will be if Bruce continues.

Did you know that the dead Robin in the Superman vs Batman movie was confirmed to be Dick? Yeah. That says a lot right there.

Brothers

I'm not going to get into their brother relationship because that involves how Alfred treats Dick as a son rather than a grandson and is opening a whole new mansion of stuff so I'm going to wrap this up here and say the two of them are a LOT.

Bruce and Dick's relationship is impossible to define and that's why they keep ending up fighting. Their relationship doesn't have clear boundaries and since each type of relationship (brotherhood, father/son, partnership, friendship, colleagues, idols&pedestals) has it's own unique problems, and because the two of them alone are all those things, they have all the problems of each of these categories combined. But they also have all the benefits. Inseparably entwined these two.

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atsadi-shenanigans · 6 months ago

Text

What Shall We Become 17 - Gods

The rogue has a conversation.

On AO3.

So. They’ve a cult of their very own.

Astarion has been of the opinion that the only thing wrong with this Absolute nonsense is that they made him a victim. But were he (and the others, he supposes, as long as they minded their place) to come out on top, well. That would be quite the advantage. (He imagines setting an entire hoard of frothing cultists upon the crimson palace, dragging that bastard out and ripping him apart piece by screaming piece; ripping those giblets apart again so the bastard can’t even regenerate).

The fish—kuo-toa, they name themselves—are nowhere near as effective. But they’re a start.

Dearest leader already gave him a healing potion, which stitched his skin back into place. And she had the good graces to order her new followers to provide him with blood.

Alas, it’s entirely fish. It’s still blood, but within the ranks of thinking-creatures-to-not, the cold and slimy things fall most decidedly on not.

He’s become accustomed to finer sustenance in his time after the nautiloid. But his most divine leader has kept herself scarce for the last few hours. Probably some silly moral conundrum. Setting fish on fire and bashing their leader into pulp is fine. But becoming their benevolent god? How dreadful.

Gods. It’s so hard to get a read on her sometimes. Just when he thinks he’s found it…

Speaking of.

His ears catch her heartbeat a few hundred feet out. Over the gurgling of their hosts and the lapping of water and splashing as they dive about—all he has to do is lay here and wait for them to bring him his meager feast, how novel—her pulse is a beacon.

He’s been on the lookout for books discussing his condition, his own information being somewhat limited. Oh, he knew he was being kept from his full potential; they all did. Stories of vampires and their spawn were and are a popular subject for children’s stories and have been for centuries. But he hadn’t the slightest idea of how much he didn’t know until he landed on that beach.

He’d not a clue what feeding on a thinking creature could even be like. What it could do. He has no particular attachment to any of the others he’s fed upon (they’re mostly dead anyway). He doesn’t notice the others the way he does her, and he’s reasonably certain he’s supped from the Blade or the druid a time or two when their hunts came back far too light to fill up the goblet they bring him. Their blood doesn’t sing to him (delicious as it nevertheless is).

No. She was his first thinking creature. And it’s done something to him and he’d very much like to figure out what, exactly, that is.

Because she’s coming towards him, and his insides squirm. Not unlike having them pulled out while tied to a sacrificial alter while some kind of gore-soaked goblin cackles. Only without all the blinding (ha) agony.

She…saved him. (Disgusting.) (Though that surely means his plan is still working, does it not?) (So why in the sweet hells does he feel so…so…horrid about it?)

She came back and murdered a fish god. After she saw his memory of leaving her to drown.

His innards shiver again.

He shoves that down as she creeps around the outside of his makeshift hut. Their generous hosts have set him up in a sickbed, more or less, inside the hull of an upturned bow of a ship (according to his leader). She, in her most illustrious benevolence, had them clean out the bones and piles of viscera the former occupant left behind—even had them wash it.

Now she sneaks around, skirting the nearby shoreline as he assumes she tries to avoid the notice of the main group camped outside.

She’s certainly an odd one.

“Astarion, you awake?” she says, still hiding against the overturned hull, a murmur only his ears would detect.

“Oh yes,” he says in his most unbothered tone, even as the squirming reaches his limbs.

She runs warm, he’s noticed. When she enters what he assumes is a ramshackle room, the air warms with her.

“How’re you?” she says, “Aside from, y’know.”

“I’m doing swimmingly, darling. A steady supply of half frozen blood, and I’ll be back on my feet in a day or two.”

She hums in lieu of words, as she’s started to do.

Then she stands there. With him flat on his back at her feet, and the squirming takes on a different feeling entirely.

“Did you need something?” he says. “I’m afraid I’m in no shape for a cuddle at the moment.”

Another pause, and he’s beginning to think he might hate her for those. She never can just answer anything. Always has to think about it.

Then cloth rustles and her left knee pops as she lowers herself to her knees beside him. “Is the fresh blood helping? To heal you?”

“Yes, of course.”

Though not as well as—

He clears his throat.

“Would…” Another accursed pause. “Would my blood help?”

He’s certain his eyebrows try to crawl up into his hair. Tendays of nothing from her, and now two feeding in less than half of one?

“What’s the occasion?” he says. And he wants. Oh, how he wants. He can almost taste it, thrumming under her skin so very nearby. Then the next pause begins and he can’t take it again. “Because I rather recall you were injured recently as well. Seems ill timing when you need all your blood, hmm?”

She doesn’t answer. She sits there in her godsdamned silence and he’s going to—

“I got a cut and some bruises,” she says. “And I already took a potion. You…you were hurt real bad. Like…real…so I’m offering. If you want.”

She’s bloody doing something to him. Twisting him up inside and he doesn’t even understand how. He should refuse. Should chase her away so he can lick his wounds in safe solitude.

But…but he doesn’t want solitude (no, please, I’ll be good). Some pathetic, mewling piece of him wants to bask in the warmth she carries with her (godsdamned caves and their chill).

And he is a vampire spawn. Her blood calls to him. And he, greedy wretch, cannot resist.

“If you’re offering, darling, I’m hardly going to say no.”

She rolls her sleeve up (he knows that sound, now) and then she must lean over him, because he’s suddenly awash in her body heat and the scent of her. Rich blood, river water (she bathes every chance she gets), fresh sweat, and that clean scent that’s simply her.

It still hurts to lift his arms (shredded chest muscles and all), so she obliges him and lowers her wrist to his mouth. The moment that soft skin brushes his lips his hunger takes hold.

No chance to savor the moment, this time. Can’t take a few seconds to feel the strong beat of her heart, trace the tendons with his lips, follow her veins with his tongue. He needs it and he needs it now.

He bites. And it’s just like the first time. That hot spurt. The way is coats his mouth and the saltiness sweeps over his tongue. He thinks his eyes roll back and he makes a noise through his nose. Can’t help it. It’s so rich, so alive.

He gulps it down. His body is hollow and aching. It needs to be filled with her; her blood, her life. Because he’s a dead thing but she’s not and he needs. Oh, how he needs.

She bleeds more freely like this, with him below her. He wants to reach up and pull her down, feel her heat on him. Let him soak in all of her, everything he can get, everything he can take.

The mending ruin of his body soaks in her essence like drought-cracked soil. Flesh begins to knit back together. Ragged openings close. Something shifts and pops, and his skull crunches and yes, yes, it’s all good, but he needs more. More.

Time disappears. Everything is the taste of her. Filling his mouth. Coating his throat. Her pulse beating in his gullet and filling his own, withered veins.

Her hunger. Days without even a cracker and now surrounded by fish and old wood and she can finally make a fire.

The burning chill of her anger still threads through her.

And the sour burn of…fear. Terror. It’s been there this whole time. Had been building. Terror for herself, certainly. Lost and hungry and uncertain. He can taste her worry. But also her reluctance. Her shyness. She doesn’t want to be a god, wants nothing to do with gods. And a different note, buried under the others.

He swallows, and this time that flavor fills his mouth. She’s not afraid for herself. It’s directed elsewhere, outwards…

He pulls away. Sputters. She’s quick to withdraw and the sound of her wrapping her wrist fills the narrow space as he blows like a wounded beast.

She’s afraid of him. No. No, nothing so simple. It’s more…altruistic than that, isn’t it? Not of him. For him.

And the shivering, squirming of his insides becomes too much. He can’t bury it under his usual facade any longer. It’s too much. She’s too much.

“Why are you here?” he says. Tone sharp. A dangerous thing, letting that show when he’s so helpless, but he can’t modify it. Can’t smooth it out. All her blood churns queasily inside him and he doesn’t know why. Why…any of this. Why she’s even next to him.

He ought to take it back. Apologize. Thank her for the gift (and never mind the crushing weight of his debt piling up). But he’s not a smart man. He’s a weak, pathetic boy with no manners. “Why did you come back? You saw what I did at that river.”

“I knew from the first day,” she says, voice infuriatingly calm.

“Then why. I left you to die. You should’ve done the same.”

And gods help him, she goes quiet. He wants to shout. Wants to find her and shake her until her teeth break loose and rattle around in her mouth. If he could lift his arms, he might even try.

“Other people’ve made that decision,” she says. Cryptically. Because the woman is incapable of giving a coherent answer to anything, ever, in all her life. “Remember that story about the team eating their dead?”

Oh yes, that had been delightful. But it has nothing to do with why in the sweet hells she’s sitting here with him, the taste of her blood still on his tongue.

“People gotta make shit decisions, sometimes,” she says.

“It actually wasn’t hard at all.” He can’t stop. He needs to, but he can’t. “I barely thought of it. A little swipe and off you went.”

That’ll strike. She’ll see her error. Finally. He’s a vampire spawn and more, a bloody coward. Always has been. Bleeding out in the streets, he’d known the noble with the glowing, red eyes was a monster. But he was dying. And that terrified him. So when that bastard promised him eternal life, he hadn’t hesitated. Not for a moment.

He will always save his own skin. Always fold. Always grovel and always, always beg. She has to understand that. Has to know what she came back for and why it was a waste. Why she shouldn’t…shouldn’t…

“You were scared,” she says.

“And I left you to die.”

Gods, just let him get through that thick skull of hers. Fucking yokel. He’s not worth anything. Certainly not all of this. She seems so clever, but she’s being stupid. He’ll make her see. He will.

“But I didn’t,” she says.

“By chance, you infuriating halfwit.”

She shifts. He’s getting to her. Good.

But then she says, “Maybe” and he nearly chews off his own tongue.

“People deal with things by giving them a meaning. Gods or fate or whatever the hell. When you cut me loose, my bag got caught. I’d’a died if it hadn’t. And maybe, if you hadn’t cut that rope, maybe I wouldn’t’a been in the right position for that to happen. Maybe it was because of what you did that we both didn’t get fucking eaten by this goddamn cave.”

“That’s an awful lot of ‘maybe’ darling.” He packs as much sneer as he physically can into that.

And she continues, words steady, but voice shaking. “That would’a been a hard decision, Astarion. I don’t think I could’a made it. I wouldn’t want to. And I just…I’m mad at a thousand other things. I could be about this. I could let it make me scared and mad and never trust nobody ever again. Or I can not do that. I can live my fucking life. I don’t want to carry that around with me. So I ain’t gonna.”

He has…nothing to say to that. It robs him of his faculties. It’s so mind-boggling ridiculous. She can’t just…that doesn’t even…

“You’ll just…let me get away with it?” he finally manages. “Who’s to say I won’t do it again?”

Crime needs to be punished. Mistakes must be corrected. That’s how the world works.

“I guess you would,” she says.

“You can’t do that. You can’t decide that and then just…choose whatever nonsense you’re spouting. You almost died.”

“I know.”

Nothing. She gives him absolutely nothing. He can’t block that, can’t strike at it, or…or…

“That’s stupid,” he says.

And she goes as quiet as a living person can get. Then, “Yeah, it probably is. I…I don’t know what the right thing is. In general, but especially over this. I ain’t your mama and I ain’t the pope, and I can’t make decisions for you. But I can make decisions for me. And you do what you gotta, but I’m doing what I can live with. You’re just gonna have to deal with it. Or don’t. That shit’s up to you.”

Her knee cracks again as she rises to her feet. Hard to lord over him all self-righteously from his level.

“If you think you’ll be good to go in a couple days, I don’t mind staying put for now,” she says. “I’ll make sure they keep bringing you what they can.”

And she leaves him. Finally. Gaping and gasping as everything in him screams and flails about.

#what shall we become #these two shitheads #astarion #astarion fic #astarion POV #tavstarion #he's NOT having a good time #tfw you have the emotional intelligence of a potato #because of trauma #sunshine and grump #but they tend to take turns #lost in a cave

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sinsinsininning · 1 year ago

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Can i request a luffy x fem reader who's his childhood best friend and they're both as dumb and hyperactive as each other (she followed and stayed him when he started his pirate journey) and they also like each other but arent together and theyre just two puppies in love

I love dumb idiot x dumb idiot, with a smidgen of oblivious mutual pining. I’m keeping this to pre time skip and kinda vague timeline wise. Keeping this as SFW since you didn’t specify just to be safe.

Hope you like it ✨

—————

You’d grown up attached to his hip, returning with him to Dandan’s house after saving him from drowning. He’d fallen off a bridge he’d made and into the fast river, his elder brothers, Sabo and Ace, rushed to help him. But you’d been faster, watching the trio from the shore and being a great swimmer/fisherman.

His brothers had been so grateful they’d offered you protection and dinner at their home, your own family was broken up by war and violence just like theirs so you accepted. And while Dandan hadn’t been happy about another mouth to feed, she’d thought having a young girl around would help the three wild boys settle down and act better.

It didn’t.

Everyone was dismayed to learn you were just as crazy as Luffy and equally stupid. Though you both had your brilliant moments and emotional intelligence, time and time again proved that though wisdom was chasing you, you were faster.

That’s how it’s been as kids, your adventures so intertwined Luffy couldn’t remember a time you weren’t by his side. Even Garp mistakenly called you his grandkid half the time and never held back his training or punishment on you either.

As you got older, your ambition remained unchange. You wanted to see Luffy become King of the Pirates, which is why you were the first to join his crew. Over time as your crew gained more members, you were a steady pillar of loyalty.

Loyal to your crew, your captain, and your captain’s stupid ass.

Some examples of your daily hourly conversations:

“If you could only eat one food for forever what woul-“

“Meat.” Luffy cut you off.

“Too broad be more specific.” You smack his chest lightly, it’s late at night and you’re both stargazing on the main deck.

“Cooked meat.” Luffy said after thinking a moment. “You?”

“Hmmm Ice cream. Or potatoes.”

“Mmmm now I’m hungry. Lets ask Sanji for a snack.” Puffy starts to stand but you yank him back down.

“Can’t remember, he’s still mad at us for putting a regular carrot in the bin with the baby carrots so they’d have adult supervision.” You laugh together as he lays still, the only time he can be still is if it’s with you.

Or.

“Nothing to see here,” You whistle lowly, trying to keep Nami’s attention on you as you whiddle. “Love being normal. Peak ordinary! That’s me, heh no problems here. No one’s ever been this average.”

“Are you sick or so- GODDAMN IT LUFFY!” She cuts herself off to try and whack your captain on the head, but it was too late, he’d already grabbed her slice of cake and ran off. The red head throws her book at you as you follow after him.

He saved you a forkful, the rest was gone the second he started running, but for you. For you he saved a bit.

Or.

“We didn’t come here to make friends.” Zoro says as he holds his blade to an enemy captain after a short skirmish.

“We came here to make Best Friends.” You interjected.

“Yeah!” Luffy gave you a thumbs up.

“Shut up you idiots or I’ll slice you!” Poor Zoro’s blood pressure was insane with the two of you.

Or.

“I’m not surprised you’ve gotten a bounty.” Garp sighs, tired eyes locked on Luffy. “But I expected better from you!” He rounds on you, shoving his finger in your face accusingly.

“Shishishi! Well that’s your own fault, nothing to do with me.” You and Luffy laugh as Garp chases after you. The old man doesn’t miss the way, Luffy looks back to ensure you’re still stride for stride with him or the way he takes the heated blows aimed for you.

But.

Overtime, your feelings are softer and softer for him, but you have no clue what this means. You notice the little things he does for you, the things he’s always done for you only. You watch him listen intently to Sanji’s flirting advice -that no one really asked for- and try not to feel weird about it. It’s only when Nami finally just announces that you’re both in love that you finally understand. A little.

“Duh.” Luffy says when she tells the crew.

“Yeah of course we love each other.” You agree wholeheartedly, but a small part of you wonders if that’s what she meant. Your suspicions are confirmed when she groans exhaustedly.

“No, you guys are IN love with each other.” Ussop says, trying to help her out.

“Huh.” Luffy says contemplating it, you don’t say anything for once. You don’t feel embarrassed, you never do really, but you do feel curious and warm. “Like married people?”

“Jumping the gun a little there, but yeah.” Nami says, feeling a little accomplished now.

“I don’t know about that.” You answer honestly, cocking your head as you literally roll the idea around in your mind. Luffy isn’t glaring at you, he couldn’t glare, but he’s certainly making a face.

“It makes sense.” Luffy announces, staring hard at you. “I mean I don’t wanna marry Hancock.”

“But you know that doesn’t mean you wanna marry each other.” Ussop interjects.

“Yeah it does, she just needs to ask.” Luffy says like it’s obvious, which frustrates his crew, except you and Robin of course. You aren’t even shocked by his answer, it did make sense, you didn’t want to date Sanji despite him asking multiple times. But if Luffy asked you wouldn’t say no.

“Luffy you know it’s traditional for the man to ask the woman, right?” Robin asks gently, though she knows the answer.

“Huh? Then why is Hancock always asking me?” Luffy looks to you for an answer, you shrug just as confused as him.

“No clue, i don’t think I’ve ever met a married person now that I think about it.”

“Huh me either, I’ve never noticed. Shishishi.” You and him laugh again, but this time his hand entwines with yours.

“God you’re impossible.” Nami shouts, stomping off.

“Those two are made for each other.” Ussop rolls his eyes as you and Luffy start talking about wether it would be better to be a bird or a fish.

“Yes, isn’t it lovely.” Robin sighs as she watches you.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader

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thelandboundseawitch · 1 year ago

Text

🥕Vegetable Correspondences🥕

Artichoke- Love, lust, personal growth, protection, safety, sexual desires, temptation Asparagus- Aphrodisiac, cleansing, fertility, healing, lust, sex, power, unfaithfulness Avocado- Beauty, love, lust Beans- Decision making, grounding, love, lust, prosperity, protection Beet- Beauty, blood, desire, fertility, healing, love, passion, relationships, sexual energy

Bellpepper:

Red- Love, strength

Yellow- Intelligence, energy, focus, creativity

Green- Money

Broccoli- Healing, health, leadership, physical strength, prosperity, protection, wealth Brussels Sprouts- Determination, endurance, health, protection, stability, strength Cabbage- Anti-nightmare, fertility, lunar presence, money, prosperity, protection, sleep Carrots- Desire, dispel illusions, fertility, healing, lust, sexuality, protection, visions Cauliflower- Emotions, feminine energy, growth, lunar energy, personal protection Celery- Calming, concentration, lust, mental clarity, passion, peace, psychic awareness, sexuality Corn- Abundance, blessings, fertility, luck, prosperity, protection, rituals, spirituality Cucumber- Calming, chastity, fertility, healing, hinders lust, peace, relaxation, stress relief Eggplant- Hoodoo, money, prosperity, sexuality, wealth Horseradish- Anti-negativity, breaks hexes, energy, passion, protection, purification Kale- Healing, strength Leek- Anti-impurity, exorcisms, friendships, healing, love, protection, purification, strength Lettuce- Astral travel, divination, love, lunar magick, meditation, protection, sex, sleep

Mushrooms:

Button- Protection

Chanterelle- Love, romance, protection

Chicken of the Woods- New beginnings

Enoki- Psychic power

Morel- Protection, memory, clarity

Oyster- Prosperity, protection, psychic abilities

Portabella- Strength

Shiitake- Healing, love, divination

Olive- Fertility, healing, lust, peace, protection, spirituality Onion- Anti-negativity, dreams, endurance, health, lust, money, prosperity, protection, stability Pea- Love Potato- Energy, healing, hoodoo, luck, money, poppet, stability, wealth Pumpkin- Banishing, divination, love, lunar magick, prosperity, protection, rebirth, wishes Radish- Breaks curses, fire magick, lust, protection Spinach- Prosperity Squash- Spirituality Sweet Potato- Friendship, harmony, grounding, nurturing, sensuality Tomato- Anti-negativity,creativity, love, offerings, passion, prosperity, protection, repel evil Turnip- Death, ending relationships, fertility, protection, sexual energy Zucchini- Faithfulness, fertility, lust, prosperity, protection, relationships, sex magick

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staenless · 1 year ago

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While I adore the posts investigating Thistles age I think we'll never get a firm grasp on his maturity because any emotional intelligence of independence he may or may not have had pre-dungeon got melted out of his brain like an overstuffed toasted cheese sandwich the second the lion got involved. I mean look at Marcille, five minutes in and she was having consecutive nervous breakdowns. Honestly the efficiency Thistle ran the dungeon with and his imprisonment of the lion is incredibly impressive because the lion turns people's brains to mashed potatoes for sport.

#dungeon meshi

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holylustration · 2 months ago

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Seven Deadly Sins Game

Thank you, @vitanithepure for the tag!

Let's see where Aurelia falls:

LUST. desire for connection. pursuit of pleasure. emotional intelligence. obsessive. lovesick. one-night stands. seductive encounter. flirtatious conversation. erotic party. seductive attire. revealing clothing. passionate gaze. provocative makeup. sensual expressions. suggestive gestures. flirtatious smiles. lingerie. love letters. perfumes. provocative behaviour. love poems. erotic art.

GLUTTONY. indulgence in experiences. savouring moments. hospitality. generosity. hedonism. culinary expertise. wine-tasting. excessive snacking. overloaded plates. excessive portions. bloated stomachs. messy eating. greasy fingers. full tables. indulgent spreads. overflowing cups. satisfied expressions. wine bottles. just can't get enough. fast food wrappers.

ENVY. motivation. competitive spirit. strategic planning. observational skills. bitter rivalry. contest. envious gossip. resentment-filled argument. social media jealousy. furrowed brows. clenched jaws. side-eye looks. pursed lips. tense posture. whispering behind backs. crossed arms. gossip magazines. keeping up with the joneses. the grass is always greener. feeling inadequate.

GREED. resourcefulness. entrepreneurial spirit. negotiation. materialistic. aggressive investment. lavish spending spree. resource-hoarding. get-rich-quick schemes. auction-bidding war. property acquisition. piles of money. overflowing wallets. luxury items. locked safes. penny-pinching. rare collectibles. selfishness. unwillingness to share.

SLOTH. calmness. stress management. nonchalance. relaxation techniques. lethargic. apathetic. inactive. lazy weekend. binge-watching marathon. neglected chores. skipped workout. long nap. lounging on the couch. missed deadlines. unkempt appearance. messy hair. pajamas. blankets. slippers. procrastination station. self-care routines.

PRIDE. confidence. self-assurance. self-respect. dignity. public speaking. self-promotion. arrogant. conceited. egotistical. self-important. vain. boastful speech. puffed chest. raised chin. smug smiles. spotlight. tooting your own horn. showing off. refusing to admit mistakes. feeling entitled. personal branding. leadership development.

WRATH. assertiveness. decisiveness. strength. intensity. boundary setting. courage. indignant. heated arguments. road rage incident. physical altercation. angry outburst. clenched fists. glaring eyes. tense muscles. raised voices. reddened faces. aggressive gestures. stormy demeanour. intense frowns. destructive actions. broken objects. punching bag. out for blood. fists. simmering anger.

Tagging some folks that I don't think I've seen this from: @pallysuune; @themagnificentmags ; @fuchsiareign ; @theevilscribbler ; @hotarutheconscience ; @mangaka-neko-chan; @cocoetoile ; @pheedraws ; @literary-potato ; @redstairs

#aurelia von valancius #tag game #apparently my tags on this got messed up #if you got an @ from me but can't find it- you were tagged!

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enbysiriusblack · 6 months ago

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autistic marauders battle

submitted propaganda

albus dumbledore:

"- stims with pacing and humming (it's canon that he paces around in his office (J.K. Rowling said she chose the name Dumbledore, which is derived from "bumblebee" because she imagined him walking around humming to himself a lot.)

- special interest: the deathly hallows. this man's obsession with a fairy tale runs DEEP. i would argue it would be his special interest if he were to be autistic

- has "unusual" emotional responses. for example, when the ministry threatens to remove all his orders awards, his biggest worry is that they remove his chocolate frog card... silly sweets lover

- OBSESSED with sweets. man had specific sweets name as his password for years + we see him eating sweets a lot in the books + man LOVESSS his sherbet lemon. i think he feels very safe with his sweets so they might be considered a form of safe food

- bro infodumps a lot to harry lmao

- insanely gifted magically but struggles to find people who understand him. ("DUMBLEDORE is looking at the pictures. These memories are agony. He is full of remorse but, almost worse: nostalgia for the only time in his life he felt fully understood.") He only ever felt truly understood by Grindelwald, who was equal to him in intelligence and power. As an autistic person who is considered "gifted", I relate to this struggle sooooo much.

- (‘Is he – a bit mad?’ he asked Percy uncertainly. ‘Mad?’ said Percy airily. ‘He’s a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?’) others view him as eccentric and "different" frequently in the books

- Dumbledore can sometimes seem detached or quirky in social situations. His interactions with others are often unconventional—sometimes lacking typical social cues or emotional responses, which could suggest difficulty with typical social interaction, a trait associated with autism.

- doesnt conform to social norms (how he dresses & his mannerisms). he seems to not place much value on society's expectations and thinking

- gets repeatedly mistreated by the ministry of magic. i think the way torquill travers for example treated him reminded me very much myself lmao

- very black and white thinking about himself. he views himself as an awful person who cannot be trusted with power and cannot be convinced that there is nuance

- Strategic & analytical thinking: Dumbledore is portrayed as highly strategic and analytical, sometimes to the point where he seems detached or overly focused on the "big picture" rather than the emotional needs of those around him.

- how he handles his past trauma. he hyperfixates on specific events of his past and seems to have an intense need for personal order and logic in his decisions

- has an unique communication style. his manner of speaking is often indirect, filled wigh metaphor, and sometimes difficult for others to understand. Many autistic people communicate in ways that might seem unusual to neurotypical people, whether through complex speech patterns, an affinity for precise language, or challenges with verbal communication

- constantly misunderstood by literally anyone

PERSONAL REASONS: -i relate so much to him and his way of existing. i think he fits the 2E very well - (2E= gifted through high IQ & disabled) he is insanely intelligent but also suffers from feelings of not belonging / never being truly understood except by grindelwald and all"

#most autistic marauder character war #albus dumbledore #amelia bones #marauders poll

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