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windblooms · 4 years

Note

Hi!! Could you do headcanons of Diluc, Kayea, Childe and Zhongli with a s/o who is touch starved but is too shy to intimate physical affection please? Thank you!💙

decided to answer the two of these in the same ask since they have similar personalities for the reader, and they evolved into scenarios. hopefully what i’ve written is all right!

edit: to the second anon, i’m sorry, i don’t know how people write more than 500 characters in asks. ㅠㅠ is it maybe a submission . . . ?

childe:

as a very perceptive individual, childe would pick up on your hesitations relatively soon, however won’t say anything about them outright.

while he may ask you if something’s wrong whenever you reach out, but self-consciously pull away, or when you’re on the verge of words but can’t bring yourself to speak, he won’t pry into your meekness.

he knows that some people prefer to keep things to themselves or away from others – he’s a prime example of this himself. so he doesn’t want to push you, but will continue to keep mental tabs on when you shrink away, or backtrack after you sound as if you’re going to ask him something.

if the trend continues for a while, he’ll eventually sit down to talk with you about it. he’ll discuss with you patiently, not wanting to invade past things you might not want to share just yet, but he still tries to find the cause of your hesitancies so he can better understand you.

“there’s something bothering you, isn’t there?” he leans forward across the table, and rests his chin on his hand. “you can tell me, you know. i’ll try and help you with it.”

as you take your time to answer, he grows increasingly concerned, but still wears a poker face to not influence you as well. across the table, he’ll slowly reach out his hand as a means of comfort, and clasp yours when you don’t pull away.

you begin to speak about your uncertainties, and childe listens intently. ah, so that was it – now that you mention it, the two of you don’t hold hands much, or really touch each other. he had assumed that’s how you preferred it, little to no physical touch. but now that you’ve explained why you’ve concealed those wishes . . .

“i’d be more than willing to hold you.” childe’s words are soft, and he manages a small smile to encourage you. as soon as your face flushes, though, he can tell that there’s something else you want to say. so he pauses, expectant, but you still seem nervous.

he takes a gander and speaks. “we can start off slow, if you want . . . actually, anything you want, you can tell me. you don’t have to worry about being embarrassed.”

from there, the two of you work out what you want. you both agree to take it slow, since this will be a first for you; small touches against each other’s fingers as reassurance, and taps against his shoulder when you’re too nervous to outright ask for his attention. he also has something of his own to suggest:

“there’s some custom that mondstadtians have,” childe ponders aloud suddenly. “hm – something about tapping three times, meaning ‘i love you’?”

at his notion, you become bashful, and look down towards your lap. you know where he’s going with this, and at your reaction, the snezhnayan chuckles, unfolding his hands from atop each other to squeeze yours in demonstration.

“one, two, three. it’s just gonna be between us, all right?”

diluc:

diluc is arguably one of the most emotionally reserved characters in all of mondstadt. sure, he’s got a sense of dry humor and wit whenever he feels snarky enough, but when it comes to personal sentiments? he keeps them behind lock and key, with the exception of passive aggression.

if you’re self-conscious about asking for affection, such as when you’re about to reach out to tap at his hand yet pull back at the last instant, you find him looking at you expectatntly, his notorious half-lidded gaze fixated on you. if there’s something you want, you’ll ask for it is his mentality, since he assumes that the two of you are both comfortable enough in your relationship to do so. and relationships are built around trust. so why are you hesitating?

that is to say, he doesn’t stare at you until you crack. after a few seconds, he’ll look away, and resume whatever he was doing beforehand. if it were anyone else, he’d most likely ask them verbally what they want, since there’s no use in prolonging the time, and he’s an impatient man.

he makes a conscious effort to be more gentle with you. he can’t quite tell if you appreciate it though especially in these scenarios, since you always chew at your lip and refrain from looking at him afterwards.

diluc will only allude to these instances. he’ll ask “is there something you need?” or “is something the matter?” he has no experience with physical affection of any sort, at least since his father all those years ago. so he’d be quite lost with your circumstance; he doesn’t know at all what you want unless you make a verbal indication as to what it is.

one day, in the privacy of his office, he senses your fingers just near his forearm. diluc looks over in time to see you clasp his coat rather shakily, but your hold is there nonetheless. much like usual, he’ll peer at you with a half-lidded gaze, although this time he addresses how skittish you appear.

“something the matter?” he’ll say as per usual, but this time he isn’t vague; he’s referring to your sudden committance to reaching out as opposed to pulling away.

“ . . . just wanted to hold you.” your confession is a mere whisper, but your boyfriend still hears it. the two of you sit in silence for a bit, before he turns his body and puts his hand on the side of your head, pressing gently so that you lean flush against his arm.

you’re speechless, however the circumstance doesn’t need words anymore. content with you hugging his arm, and now understanding your wants, diluc continues to work as you drift asleep against him. while there’s still a ways to go, as he’s sure that this isn’t the only desire you have, it’s surely a start.

kaeya:

the astute captain that he is, kaeya can hone into your desires with relative ease.

before you can retract your hand after reaching out, he’s already grasped it in his own. you’re caught off-guard, not expecting his agility, but his grip isn’t firm or unpleasant; it’s gentle, as if he’s caring for glass.

he lowers his face so that the two of you are eye-level. “no need to be shy. it’s just us.” kaeya’s reassurance is playful at first, until your contemplative silence queues him in on the severity of your timidness.

he’s concerned: is there something serious that’s bothering you? he’d just assumed that you wanted to hold hands, or lean on each other. for how long it takes you to speak, he’s thinking the worst: is a coworker bothering you? are you ill with a fever? kaeya’s eyebrows furrow, and he immediately speaks again. “what’s wrong, precious? tell me, please.”

looking up at him, you realize that he has the wrong impression. tenderly enveloping your cheek with his hands, rubbing your skin with his thumbs, you sink into the affection – but he’s got the wrong idea.

“i-it’s fine,” you begin, and he blinks rapidly. “just . . . wanted to, uh,” you nudge further into his hands, and squeeze his arms gently, “ . . . touch you.”

ah. your meekness makes sense now, although considering your personality, his initial guesses probably wouldn’t have been far off. nevertheless, kaeya indulges you, even if you both continue the circumstance in silence. it’s evident that you’ve been holding back this request for a while, and as much as he loves to tease and would like to in this moment, he doesn’t believe now is an appropriate time.

so, kaeya continues to stroke your face, soothing away your nerves. his other hand clasps yours in your lap, giving you the time and affection you crave.

he finds your vulnerability endearing, but there’s guilt on his conscience: why have you been nervous to approach him about this, and why did he not pick up on it sooner? not that he expects you to come for him for everything – kaeya just theorizes that there must be some reason as to why you appear so touch-starved, and he’s thinking the worst about such a reason.

“feeling better?” he inquires, still cradling your face, and he pulls you into a hug. his warmth is reassuring to you – the security that you’ve longed for. if this is what affection feels like, you’re not sure that you’d ever want to pull away.

“yeah.” hesitantly, you lift your face from his chest, but your arms remain around his waist. your boyfriend grins slightly, and ruffles your hair, pushing your bangs aside so he can kiss your forehead.

“tell me about it. we can figure this out together.”

zhongli:

about three weeks into your relationship is when zhongli receives questions from hu tao: “hey, you and y/n don’t touch each other at all. i know you’re ‘professional’ and stuff, but jeez – not even hand-holding? thought it’d get more exciting at this point.”

and while he initially thought of her remarks as rude – your relationship isn’t any of her business – it did prompt him to consider her words.

specifically, she’s right: while he’s generally busy at wangsheng, he strives to make time for you whenever possible. and in that time, never once have either of you touched each other. he’s never minded, since he’s admittedly gone without it for so long and is used to life without it – but it’s the modern age, and isn’t it customary for liyuens to . . . ?

so he takes it upon himself to ask you over dinner. he’s made bamboo shoot soup for you tonight, and as you sit across the table from him, finishing the dish, he speaks so candidly it nearly makes you choke on your last bite.

“would you like to hold hands in the market tomorrow?”

“what?”

zhongli makes a strange face. he knows you heard him, so why do you also look startled, and are averting your eyes?

he repeats himself nonetheless, and while you do answer him this time, it’s by mumbling under your breath.

“ – odd question,” is how you start, and your boyfriend folds his hands underneath his face, yet doesn’t rest his chin. “um, sure. yeah, sure . . . ”

you most definitely do not sound sure, but it’s in a way that further perplexes him. you look . . . thrilled now? he can see that you’re refraining from smiling – the corners of your mouth flutter – but why? zhongli doesn’t recall saying anything that would be good news . . .

“is something the matter?” the archon supplies instead, to which you shake your head. your hands are in your lap.

“ah, no. what you said just came out of no where.” an unconcealed smile from you now, and zhongli finds himself relaxing. if you’re certain, that’s all he cares about.

he stands up, and prepares to take your dish to the kitchen. before though, he makes sure to bring you up to your feet, and intertwines his fingers with yours.

“may i kiss you?” he asks, suddenly, unexpectedly. he sees you nod, the slight pressing of your lips together, and gives them a quick peck before retreating; zhongli can still taste the slight bamboo left over.

when the two of you draw away, there’s a noticeable flush on your cheeks. once more, you seem giddy, however this time he doesn’t have to ask why.

“i’ve never done this before.” there’s trepidation in your voice that causes his brows to furrow slightly. “so . . . it’s all right if we start out slow, right?”

“of course,” zhongli doesn’t hesitate to respond. you could mean so many things, and he isn’t sure which you’re referring to: initiating physicality with him, or maybe that you’ve never had a partner before . . . ? but he doesn't dwell on that. “your comfort is what matters.”

in the market the next day, zhongli finds comfort in the slight tugs on his coat sleeve from your fingers, and the smile that beams on your visage.

#genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #kaeya x reader #childe headcanons #childe scenarios #diluc headcanons #diluc scenarios #zhongli headcanons #zhongli scenarios #kaeya headcanons #kaeya scenarios #fluff #asks: diluc #asks: childe #asks: kaeya #asks: zhongli

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technospotatoes · 3 years

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FUNDY LORE ANALYSIS

Howdy, howdy friends! After about 6 hours of pure thinking, I have more Dream SMP brain rot-theory-analysis stuff for you! This week I’m on spring break, so unfortunately I’m not prolonging any assignments haha! Today my focus is FUNDY LORE >:) and I’ve sprinkled in a little IRL factoids for ya to enjoy!

Please lemme know your thoughts, opinions and theories-- and as always, it’s gonna be a long one!

Enjoy <3

TW/CW for brief mentions of derealization-- nothing in detail, just thought I’d let y’all know. Please be safe ily.

Fundy’s lore stream took place today, 3/30/2021. It's roughly 45 minutes, so if you have some time to kill, go watch it! It’s really well done, and his acting is incredible. I will give you a warning; it contains derealization. If you choose not to watch it, here’s a summary from Twitter! link

First, let’s talk about what we know of Fundy’s character so far.

Fundy’s story throughout the events of the SMP are quite tragic. A few key staples are...

1: the death and betrayals of both Wilbur and Schlatt, as well as the absence of Eret-- all of whom he viewed as father figures (Wilbur being his biological father, and Eret his adopted father who failed to show up at his adoption ceremony. Schlatt was a source of validation and approval for Fundy).

2: Jealousy of Tommy and Tubbo-- These two replaced Fundy’s position as Wilbur’s son during the L’Manburg eras, and Fundy became rightfully jealous towards them. He no longer felt valued by his father, and was only more negatively impacted when Wilbur made an attempt to mend that rift.

3: witnessing the rise and ultimate fall of L’Manburg-- and even assisting in its destruction with Niki.

Along with some other rocky encounters with his family members in the timeline, Fundy can be simply boiled down as a character with no stable relationships to his family, or those whom he considers family. However, he does deeply value his friends and the fun that he has with them-- which we can assume is one of his attachments (this will be important later). He takes pride in making mischief and carries a friendly persona… which makes him easily approachable.

He does carry valid reasons to instigate villainous acts-- but he instead chooses to remain neutral due to his fear of losing something else close to him.

I have a number of thoughts regarding Fundy’s character and his current lore, so enough stalling from me, and let's get into it!

Analysis of Stream:

The desert

When Fundy leaves his tower for the first time during the dream sequence, the world is no longer the SMP, but is replaced with a barren desert. From the title of the stream, we can infer that this desert represents Fundy’s Mind and contains the majority of what he thinks about. Deserts often symbolize loneliness or emptiness, and can also be synonymized with brutal honesty or survival. Fundy’s character is indeed alone (in terms of family), and has fought for his survival by being sly and mischievous through Schlatt’s reign of Manburg. Sand itself symbolizes the passage of time, or in other words, the inevitability of the future or truth. As we see in each of the 3 dream sequences, the mysterious bunker containing “truth” appears closer and closer to Fundy’s tower and also becomes more withered and worn on the inside, implying that Fundy cannot escape the coming of truth and future as time passes.

The desert itself contains a replica of the Camarvan from the old L’Manburg days-- likely a representation of Fundy’s childhood that he holds onto dearly, in spite of his past trauma. During the first dream sequence, the van even contains Wilbur-- perhaps to mock Fundy’s pain, or remind him of it. During the second sequence, Wilbur is gone, likely referencing Wilbur’s absence in Fundy’s life, or his death. During the 3rd dream sequence, the Camarvan is replaced with what looks to be a crater, or the aftermath of an explosion. This could possibly reference the ultimate destruction of L’Manburg (and the destruction of the van), or it could be foreshadowing of the destruction in the future…

Side theory, here! Tubbo just lost a nuke, and multiple people have vendettas against Dream / want him dead. The pit seemed like it was made out of black stone and obsidian, the same materials as the prison, so it is likely that this is an allusion to Dream’s possible escape.

Who is “He”?

On his 3rd visit to the odd bunker in his dream world, Fundy reads the 3rd book in the chest. Towards the end, this book warns him of a vague male character that Fundy should not join, or avoid at all costs. To quote the book…

“Do not join him. Whatever he asks of you. Do NOT join him. His plans aren’t as nice as they sound. His intentions aren’t what you think they are. He will use you. He will destroy you. Everything you ever loved, everyone you ever cared about. Do not join him.”

I bet a few characters instantly came to your mind as to who this person that Future Fundy is warning us about, and I’m going to list who I first thought it could be below:

Technoblade and the Syndicate. Now, I disagree with this option, even though Techno has the outright power to destroy anything and everything like he’s done before. However, because of the creation of the Anarchist Syndicate and their accommodating ideals, it would be out of his character or set of ideals to suddenly destroy Fundy’s attachments to purely demonstrate his power. Also, Fundy no longer represents any forms of government, so he does not pose a threat to the Syndicate.

I did theorize here that Fundy could be Harpocrates, but that would imply that he goes against the warnings of his future self. (Also not to mention the placement of this stream in the timeline would have to be much later in the past.) But the more that I think about it, the more likely it could be. It wouldn’t necessarily be out of character for Fundy to join the Syndicate and side with Techno against the warnings of his inner voice, but he has been a spy before…

BBH / the Eggpire. This is also not a likely option for our “he” character, because it is more likely that this dangerous person is not associated with a group such as the Syndicate or Eggpire-- in other words, he operates alone. The Eggpire has plenty of members and those who oppose it, even BBH tried to recruit Fundy and failed. Our “he” has not had an interaction with Fundy yet, and I don’t think that the Eggpire would make an effort to reach out to him again.

My theory is that Quackity is our “he” figure. As I’ve stated before (see my C!Sam post here), Quackity has proven himself to be an effective manipulator, and could easily persuade Fundy to join his side. Quackity has power over Dream at this time in the plot, and is using it to gain knowledge about revival. He could use his acquired learning from Dream to make a deal with Fundy through using Wilbur’s revival to appease his interest (and provide a chance at healing, given his tough past). Not to mention his cameo at the end of Fundy’s lore stream-- There’s plenty more involvement in the lore that we are going to see from Q.

The Mysterious Figure

During the final dream sequence of Fundy’s lore stream, he opens the door to his tower, only to see a dark figure, staring into the world… or rather, the absence thereof. This Figure has no other significant character details besides the black hood/cloak and no ign, so we have no evidence as to who it is. I’ve seen plenty of people theorize that this person could be BBH (because of the similarities in cloak design) or they could be the “he” Fundy’s logs are warning him about. But I disagree-- I strongly believe that this mysterious figure is neither of those options, rather, The Mysterious Figure is someone completely separate in this story. Here are a few people I think it could be:

Wilbur/Schlatt-- both of whom are dead, and could manifest inside Fundy’s mind as spirits or ghosts.

Dream-- he causes paranoia in many of the younger characters of the SMP, so I wouldn’t put it past him to haunt Fundy like he did Ranboo (the voice in his head).

Fundy-- a form of himself from the future, or a representation of his conscience (wants, desires, etc).

Or a guide/protector to Fundy’s mind-- we could see more of this figure if episodes like this stream occur in the future. A character similar to that of the Inbetween or Other Side.

It is important to note that at the end of the sequence, the Mysterious Figure chased Fundy up the tower in fear, causing him to sleep and escape the dream world. I think Fundy would only react this way if he felt directly threatened, so this figure is likely someone unknown and intimidating, or familiar and repulsive enough to cause behaviour akin to a sort of PTSD. It is possible that this figure doesn’t have malicious intent, because there was a bed placed on top of Fundy’s tower. The figure was likely supposed to guide Fundy to this bed to escape the dream world, but this encounter probably did not go according to plan, due to Fundy’s reaction.

His Internal Monologue

Through the presence of fear and doubt we can learn about the deeper parts and truths of a character. This is the case with Fundy: while he is distressed and afraid in his dream world, through the provided angst we learn about what Fundy truly wants. Fundy states that he wants this dream to end, and he wants to go back to his friends and his old life. He longs for the times where he can just have fun again and prank people, when his friends were there for him. Except, sometimes they weren’t. He states he would join parties and join groups only to watch them disappear as he started to get attached to them. Now, whenever the word “attachment” is uttered anywhere I immediately think back to Dream’s speech, perhaps Fundy is becoming more aware of what he could be endangered by.

Deja Reve

There’s no theory attached to this, just some super cool stuff I found. :)

The reveal of Fundy’s powers instantly set off a flag in my mind the second I heard it. His “powerset” or ability is one of foreshadowing, whatever he dreams about, could happen or is linked to the future. Now, the reason I bring this up is partly because I think it is cool, and it is actually a REAL thing. And I’ve experienced it. Let me introduce you to Deja Reve.

Deja Reve isn’t really a condition or illness, rather it is a “creepier” form of its more popular counterpart, Deja Vu. When translated directly from French, Deja Reve means “already dreamed.” This word is a descriptor for a specific sequence of events: you dream something, and it happens later, in real life. No, I’m not making this up, and yes, it is real. I’ve had this happen to me multiple times.

Deja Reve isn’t so simple as “i dreamt this so it will happen tomorrow”. In my case, I would have a particular dream, for example, I went to a Subway with my mom and she discussed with the manager about having my sister work at that location. The morning after I would forget the dream like any other, but many weeks later the exact event I dreamt would happen. I can remember it now, right down to the sandwich I ordered and the way my mom moved across the establishment to talk to the manager-- it was word for word, vision for vision. Each time Deja Reve occurs, I freeze, and I think I’m experiencing a second copy of life, or rewatching a movie. It's super weird, but cool. If something like this has ever happened to you, leave a comment below, I’d love to hear your experiences!

Now I bring this up because many people mistake these sorts of things as having foresight or being able to prophesize-- but it's not the same thing. Deja Reve occurs more often in the younger population, and becomes less and less active as one gets older. Because Fundy is still relatively young in the SMP timeline, I think that not only is this a cool ability set for him to have, but it makes sense for him psychologically as well. There is no clear cause or reason behind why individuals experience Deja Reve, but personally, I believe it has to do with the condition of your brain and it’s experiences to past trauma. Kids who experience trauma find elaborate ways to cope, and usually defer to their imagination. Due to the fact that most of Fundy’s trauma occurred while he was very young in the SMP lore, it is definitely plausible that his amplified, or “more woke” application of Deja Reve, is a product of his past.

Number Symbolism

I’ll keep this section short, because this post is already miles long, but similar to the previous section, this is something SUPER COOL that I noticed :]

Each book that Fundy reads has a specific number of pages… haha big whoop, Biz, that’s not weird. But did you know that some numbers have symbolism? Did you notice that the 3 books in each dream sequence each had 87 pages, which symbolize family, organization, and idealism? That number symbolizes what Fundy WANTS, but also what he’ll never get if he’s not careful. The first two times he read that book he didn’t finish it… He didn’t achieve his goal?

Did you also notice that the signed book had 22 pages? That number symbolizes redemption, intuition, emotions, duty and diplomacy-- qualities that oddly correlate to warnings. This number represents what Fundy will NEED to be, in order to survive his future. Also, a Catch 22… take that as you will ;)

Sidenote…

Ok this is the last mini section before the end, but another thing that immediately popped into my head during Fundy’s lore was the factor of derealization. Nothing major, but the other times we’ve seen this storytelling or manipulation technique used was during...

Ranboo’s Panic Room / Prison Visit-- believes derealization

Karl and escaping the In Between-- fights against derealization

Fundy’s notebooks-- questions derealization

I have a feeling that whenever derealization is being used, it’s intended to distract the character from the true evil, to prevent them from tracking their own course or fulfilling their own story… So I’ll be excited to see where Fundy takes his.

GAAAAAAAAAH IT’S DONE, FINALLY. And Congratulations! You made it to the end!! If you have any thoughts or theories, comment below, shoot me an ask or DM, I’d love to discuss with you! Follow me for more in-depth analysis content, I will be doing as many of these as I feel inspired to do in the future. :]

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING <3

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miss-1ng · 3 years

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btw, this was written and never finished i just thought i should post it cause why not! oh yes also crimson flower route spoilers i guess though major canon divergence too. I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO ADD THE READ MORE THING SO HERE WE ARE SORRY

She hears a scream.

So naturally, she reacts to it.

Reacting to something has taken so long before.

Flames whipping towards her faster than she can acknowledge them has never been such a prolonging experience. It feels like hours. It’s only been seconds.

She stretches her arms wide as she shoves Byleth out of the way.

The woman barely stumbles, just falls flat onto her back, and stares up at her with wide eyes. Wide eyes rapidly filling with tears.

She’s only ever seen Byleth cry once. It was that day, that one horrible day with the incident with Monica no, Kronya, where her father had taken his last breath to a dagger.

In the numb roaring from her ears, she wonders why exactly Byleth is crying.

The second heat licks her bare skin she realises what she’s done.

Edelgard’s throat feels tight. Too tight.

It was funny in a way. Funny in a bitter, cruel way. The esteemed Emperor of Adrestia, who has survived many wars, prevailed in hundreds of battles, toughened through blows from swords, spears, axes and bows, you name it, can’t survive flames so seemingly easy to avoid.

Something presses against her heart. It takes her seconds to realise it’s a hand. A soft shaking hand. She sees Byleth’s mouth move but no words seem to come out.

The roars in her ears shatter along with the surroundings.

“That was unimpressive.”

The voice startles Edelgard awake, and she’s unable to hold in the flinch when she’s greeted with darkness only pierced by a small green light.

Edelgard takes a staggering step forward. Her stomach hurdles when she glances beneath her feet, only to see pitch black darkness.

The strange voice continues. “At least I came to your rescue, even if you did interrupt my sleep.” A yawn. “Okay, come on over. How bad is everything? How far back do we need to go?”

“Who are you?” Edelgard demands. Her voice wavers but she tries to keep her voice strong.

A figure steps into the limelight, wearing an intricate dress of blues, reds and white. Long green hair swishes over a small and slim frame, though it doesn’t seem like it’s weighing the person down like it should.

“Oh, you must have hit your head.” She mock laughs. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” She claps slowly with each word. Green eyes lock with Edelgard’s. She blinks. “Oh.” She blinks again, then frowns. “You’re not Byleth.”

“Byleth?” Edelgard’s voice comes out in a growl, a shaky growl, but a growl no less. She glares at the girl in front of her. “Wh-what have you done to her?”

The girl looks affronted. Her eyebrows draw upward, and her jaw falls slightly agape. “Are you accusing me of doing something to Byleth?” she demands in a snappish tone. “Because all I have done is saved her. Many times.”

“But then-” Her voice cracks. “-then where is she?”

Her eyes sting with tears.

The girl sighs. She sits down on a throne which was non-existent until seconds ago, pulling her knees to her chest. “I don’t know.”

And here comes the tummel of questions making a ruckus in Edelgard’s head.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” she cries, feeling tears streak down her cheeks. “What-what do you mean? Where is she? Where am I? Who are you? What-”

“Woah, woah, woah, when I say I don’t know…” The girl inhales sharply. “It means I actually don’t know. I have no idea where Byleth is. But we are-” She glances around. “Somewhere. But my name is Sothis.”

Something in Edelgard snaps. “Sothis?” she growls. “You’re the-the proclaimed ‘Goddess’?”

The girl – Sothis – pinches the bridge of her nose. “Oh, so you’re the girl Byleth yammers on non-stop about.”

She pauses. “What?”

“Byleth has told me about you. About how your goal to eliminate the church, therefore eliminating all belief in the Goddess, AKA me.” She pauses before adding “She’s also spoken very highly of you. You’re important to her.”

Her throat clenches. She feels tears well in her eyes.

She’s important to me too.

“Is that so?” Sothis tuts, pursing her lips.

Edelgard flinches. She takes a wary step back “I said nothing,” she says, even if it’s more like she’s convincing herself than Sothis.

Sothis laughs. She actually laughs, even though it’s more of a delighted giggle. “Oh, you have so much to learn!” She’s wearing a carefree smile, nothing like her sleepy, disoriented gaze from only seconds ago.

“Where are we?” Edelgard repeats. She’s slowly gaining her bearings. “What happened?”

Sothis groans, dragging a hand down her face. “You died,” Sothis tells her. “You died against that dragon by protecting Byleth.”

The reality hits her like a slap to the face. It stings. “I… died?”

“Are you really this thick-skulled?” the Goddess snaps, slapping her hands down on the sides of the throne, to which a resounding smack echoes through the dark area. “You died. You’re dead. Dead. Dead. Dead! Yet I have no idea why you’re here now and Byleth isn’t.”

“Byleth’s… has she come here? Byleth knows you.”

The look Sothis sends her is terrifying, even without words to accompany it.

Byleth.

Her eyes sting again, though she makes no move to wipe the tears off her cheeks.

“You seem to not know much,” Sothis muses. “Would you like a reminder of the battle?”

Before Edelgard can say a word, Sothis clicks her fingers and Edelgard is staggering through a road with flaming buildings on either side.

She stares ahead, vision blurring as she tries to make sense of this situation. Her back presses against the wall without her knowledge and she feels something squeeze her hand.

Dorothea looks down at her, smiling nervously, yet she’s still smiling. Her hand holds Edelgard’s, and she squeezes it once more. “This’ll be fine,” she murmurs. It’s almost like she’s trying to convince herself more than she’s trying to convince Edelgard.

She doesn’t recall this from the battle. She doesn’t recall walking down these paths, ever the same despite the minor differences. She doesn’t recall Dorothea clutching her hand, because no, Byleth was the one clutching hers as they sliced through their enemies and approached Rhea.

A squeaky “Y-yes, it will” slips out of her mouth.

Dorothea walks a few steps forward and Edelgard follows and holds a bow out, squinting at the Demonic Beast snarling at nothing in particular.

The thing is she’s using a bow. She doesn’t even think she’s touched one before.

Empty red eyes suddenly lock with hers and she feels herself flinch and yelp. The arrow flings out of her grip, barely skimming the Demonic Beast’s scales.

The Demonic Beast stomps forward, whipping it’s tale back and forth when Dorothea lunges in front and blasts a Thoron at it.

The creature takes the blow, and Edelgard uses that as a chance to use her bow again.

Why am I using a bow?

That question remains unanswered as she launches another arrow at it. This time it hit’s the Demonic Beast’s forehead. She feels euphoric for a little moment. Almost smiles. Doesn’t. Especially as it’s tail swings around, so fast neither of them can avoid it and knocks Dorothea over some broken picket fences to some Church Soldiers and Edelgard into a crumbling building.

A brick falls and slams against her arm.

The bow snaps into pieces. The brick crushes her arm. Edelgard screams, something so shrill it can’t possibly belong to her.

“Bernie!” Dorothea cries. Edelgard freezes questioning the name of her ally, her friend before another brick clatters down, landing inches away from her face. While her head whips to Edelgard, a spear pierces through her stomach and her head lolls back, blood spitting out of her mouth. “B…ern…”

Dorothea. Edelgard cries out, though by the looks of it Bernadetta is too. Dorothea gone. Dorothea who didn’t care about anyone’s differences. Dorothea who treated every member of the Black Eagles as equals. Dorothea who comforted everyone in times of need. Dorothea who was a beautiful, beloved, and kind-hearted soul who did not deserve to fight in a war she didn’t even belong in.

“What will you do, when the war is finished?” Edelgard had asked one particularly sunny day whilst the two were having tea.

Dorothea had smiled, green eyes full of something so sweet it warmed Edelgard’s heart. It was always a pleasure to see her friend, so awfully affected by war, smiling so happily. “I’d like to return to the opera, I guess,” she had replied, her lips quirking up. “Though I’ll see where my life takes me.”

Her body goes limp.

Another two bricks fall down, and Edelgard’s vision turns dark before she wakes up again nearby Caspar and Lysithea, the two shielding her and fending off the opposing soldiers.

In the distance she can see Catherine, holding Thunderbrand out and staring down at the three with an amused grin tugging at her lips. The sight is sickening. Edelgard holds her hands out, fixing up a gash on Caspar’s upper arm while he takes a breather against the enemies. The wound slowly fixes itself up.

Lysithea uses a Dark Spikes.

Then Caspar goes back to swinging his axe.

Stunned, Edelgard feels herself stare at her hands. She’d never learnt healing spells before. …Why did she know them now?

Catherine runs forward to the three of them suddenly, when Lysithea finishes off the last Church soldier in the area they’re in.

Caspar barely avoids the hit. Lysithea makes a noise slightly resembling the squeak of a mouse (Mice, running around her while she’s caged in her cell) and Edelgard finds herself slowly backing onto a healing tile.

Catherine and Caspar are fighting, newly donned gauntlets against a heroes relic. Lysithea from behind blasts spell after spell at Catherine, obviously exhausted but the girl is not letting up. Edelgard admires her for that. She’s always admired Lysithea, and her relentlessness to not let her younger age get the best of her.

She’s damn powerful as well.

Everything seems to be good. Everything seems to be fine.

Edelgard takes a deep breath in. Then everything goes to hell.

Caspar gets stabbed in the arm with Thunderbrand. He cries out, staggering back and losing his focus on Catherine. Edelgard cries out too, reaching out to try and use Psychic but it’s no use since Caspar gets stabbed again and again.

A scream of rage comes from Lysithea, and just before she finishes the final blow, the young woman uses a critical Dark Spikes which hits Catherine with perfect accuracy. The knight falls down. Thunderbrand falls out of her hand.

“Caspar,” Edelgard finds herself sobbing, though her voice isn’t actually hers. She sounds like Linhardt. “Caspar, please, Cas-”

A hand touches Edelgard’s (Linhardt, she reminds herself, not that it will do much) and Caspar looks up, smiling dumbly. “I got to fight her,” he croaks. “I…I won too.”

Blood pours from his wounds, the stabs scattered around his body. Edelgard feels the sudden urge to throw up. She holds the bile in. Tears are streaming down her face as she clutches Caspar’s body, pulling him to her chest.

“Caspar…” she repeats, not that her words will do much. “Cas-aspar, I-”

“Shh, Lin.” He reaches up to press a finger against her lips, silencing her. He opens his mouth to speak but his eyes suddenly stare at her unblinkingly. He’s limp in her hold.

“Linhardt…” Lysithea starts to say, reaching forward but Edelgard stands up, still gripping onto Caspar despite how much her arms are trembling under his weight.

She sobs and hates how raw she (Linhardt) sounds right now. Linhardt shouldn’t deserve this. Linhardt who already had so many struggles piled upon the other. Linhardt who needs Caspar, and Caspar who needed Linhardt.

It hurts even more now that she realises the real reason Caspar wasn’t there when Linhardt and Lysithea met up with them, only to meet their immediate downfall after stumbling dazedly too close to Rhea.

Her vision twists and she’s now stumbling along with Hubert, stabbing at each enemy who crosses them with her lance. Behind her she sees Petra, struggling with another Demonic Beast, despite each blast Hubert hits it with.

A claw slices her chest open, and she screams, the sound resonating through Fhirdiad.

She turns back, launching her horse towards the Demonic Beast and digging his lance into a small spot of bare skin where the scales of it didn’t cover.

The Demonic Beast makes a ghastly sound before falling to it’s end.

“Ferdinand!” Hubert yells. “What are you-”

His words are silenced so quickly it’s deafening. His mouth falls agape as a lance finds it’s way through his middle.

Edelgard cries out his name. She sounds so heartbroken it makes her want to burst into tears all over again. Hubert deserved more.

No, she thinks with clenched teeth as she directs her horse towards Hubert’s attacker. They all deserved more. So much more than being swept up by me into this godawful war.

She hates herself for this. She’s never hated herself so much before.

She ends up stabbing at Hubert’s attacker, stabbing again and again until her vision is blurred with blood, sweat and tears. Blood, sweat and tears. Fitting, if not for the situation. Fitting if not for the-

Everything goes black. Once more.

Edelgard opens her eyes to darkness. She’s kneeling on the floor, sobbing, and wailing as the images of her allies, her friends getting murdered in front of her.

“Oh don’t cry,” Sothis soothes, but her sympathy doesn’t seem like real sympathy. “There’s nothing you can do about it now.”

Edelgard staggers up, swaying on her feet, and wipes the tears from her face. She glares angrily at Sothis. But her next words come out in a quiet whisper.

“What happened to Byleth?”

Byleth, who I need, and who I love.

Sothis pauses. Silence hangs in the room like the tension, and it’s only broken when she replies in a broken little whisper “I don’t know.”

Mint green eyes matching mint green hair.

A small smile barely noticeable but still there.

Deadpanning whenever Edelgard makes a joke.

Hugging her, hugging them. Comforting them all.

Her obsession with fishing she never seemed to get over.

Her love for fish that could rival Flayn’s.

Her scream, haunting Edelgard for five years.

“This is going to be a problem,” Sothis mutters. “Your thoughts are solely Byleth-centric. Is there anything else that goes in that strange little mind of yours?” She waves her hand in Edelgard’s general direction in emphasis.

“How long must I stay here for?” Edelgard sighs.

There’s a brighter glint in Sothis’ eyes. Her lips quirk up. “Not too much longer as it seems!” she exclaims, clapping her hands together and standing up. The action reminds Edelgard of when she was a child. Young. Carefree. Innocent.

Oblivious to the blatant cruelness the world harboured.

“El…” A whisper. “El, I know I’m bad with words, but I need you to know you can talk to me.”

Hands clutching hers. A squeeze. Locking eyes.

“My teacher, I…” Averting gaze. Letting go of warm hands. “Now is not the time.”

“It’s always the time if you need help.”

A smile, an obvious façade that doesn’t sell as well as Claude’s ones did. Trembling fingers. Warmth dispersing from memory.

“I am fine. Though I thank you, for taking the time to see if I am okay. I appreciate it.”

Why didn’t she just hold on a little longer?

how was that y’all? hope it wasn’t too long and angsty hahaha

#fe3h #fanfic #edelgard #edeleth #byleth eisner #linhardt von hevring #caspar von bergliez #dorothea arnault #petra macneary #hubert von vestra #ferdinand von aegir #bernadetta von varley #other minor ships #this is just a preview of a fanfic i’ll probably never finish #crimson flower route #spoilers #crimson flower spoilers

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ichika27 · 3 years

Text

OnS Chapter 106

Well... this chapter is making me ask questions lol. At last though, we’re back to seeing what Mika is doing but is also continuing from where the previous chapter left off. So many things happening at once.

The 2nd Progenitor Rigr Stafford vs. 3rd Progenitor Lest Karr and 5th Progenitor Ky Luc. Lest is having trouble and is worried due to facing a 2nd progenitor while his companion Ky is enjoying himself and feels confident he could win against a their enemy. Rigr realizes in the middle of battle that Ky is probably Urd's right hand man since Ky's ability surpasses that of a regular 5th progenitor.

Rigr aims at Ky's eye. Ky realizes he can't dodge it anyways so he just went straight ahead to land an attack himself. Now the two of them are too connected to each other which worried Lest since he's about to use a lightning attack. Ky just tells him to go for it.

Ky gives his sword as much blood as he could give to make sure Rigr couldn't get away when Lest uses Heaven's Fan. When the attack is done, Ky sustained a lot of injuries.

It seems the attack had worked and had injured the 2nd progenitor as well. I felt pretty suspicious at this moment cause there’s no way these two could easily beat a 2nd progenitor. Plus Rigr wasn’t really that worried despite saying so cause he doesn’t always mean what he tells them. I thought there must be a trick.

2nd Progenitor Urd Geales finally makes an appearance! Lest tells him of what had transpired and Urd isn't amused and tells him that it's impossible for a vampire to escape the cell (he made it so himself). He then tells Rigr to stop messing with his subordinates.

With a clap of the hands, Rigr is back in the cell. Rigr reveals that the entire fight was nothing but an illusion that he learned from humans. lol I knew there was a trick but I didn’t think it was all an illusion. I thought he’d easily regenerate or something.

You know what, Rigr’s teasing nature and laid-back attitude in the middle of battle reminds me of Ferid. They might not be blood-related but he is the one who turned Ferid into a vampire so it’s close.

The two former friends have a little reunion. Ky apologizes for the trouble but Urd tells him it wasn't his fault as Rigr is of a higher rank and can't be helped.

It seems he still cares...

Rigr asks Urd what the latter has in store for him and Urd says that if Rigr doesn't answer his questions, he might just kill him. Urd asks what Rigr’s plan is and Rigr tells him that his revenge plan against the 1st Progenitor hasn't changed yet after all these years so there’s nothing to say.

Urd says that in betraying the 1st, Rigr had also betrayed him and Rigr offered to be killed. He mentions he hasn't forgotten about Urd and has thought about him everyday when they were separated.

I’m sorry... these lines are getting to me. They must’ve been really close friends for them to be this way with each other. They kinda remind me of Mika and Yuu in a way except these two sort of became rivals or something.

Urd then asked Rigr about this revenge plan and how it's going.

I’m guessing the original question is asking about what the plan is specifically but it’s changed to asking if it’s going well. I wonder if Urd had realized what it might be before asking?

Meanwhile, Mika is still inside Yuu's heart. In front of him is a strange eye and he's trying to figure out what this one is exactly.

Mika touches the eye to peek into what's in it. He's then transported to this strange place and in each of the containers inside is an eyeball each. Mika finds himself possessing one of these eyeballs.

I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who recognized this from the Ancient Greece flashbacks several chapters ago.

It’s tiny Yuu-chan! It confirmed that this is Mikaela's room from back in Greece thousands of years ago from the flashbacks. Yuu visits here many times to try and wake up the "sleeping" Mika inside the glass. This is probably a later scenario from Ashera’s flashbacks cause this Yuu isn’t borderline emotionless and acts like an excitable child unlike the Yuu that Ashera first met.

Noya tells him it's pointless as Mika is dead but Yuu tells him that Mika will certainly wake up. It's Yuu's job to wake him after all. Noya comments that Yuu's exact duty is to be the sacrifice to awaken Mika. Yuu didn't hear this and continues to call Mika which annoyed Noya enough and in the end, Yuu was killed.

Okay, so I don’t remember if Yuu had been calling Sika Madu “Father” from before or if this is some new development because I think he just called him “Master” back then? Also, I guess this means Yuu and Mika are connected more deeply than we thought. I wonder how Yuu would be sacrificed.

Noya then uses one of the eyeballs and turned it into another Yuu. The new Yuu could talk but knows nothing. He kept asking so many questions that Noya got annoyed again and killed this one, too. Ashera tells him that it's not right and Noya just says that he just has to get used to it. Plus no one would notice how many had been killed if they made another Yuu.

We’re finally shown how they make Yuu-chan clones. I wonder what changed or how this is done as the new Yuu clone acts like the previous one: loud and excited. He’s totally not like the Yuu that Ashera met who is quiet and sort of emotionless. I thought they would start out like that quiet Yuu first and then learn to be normal but it seems the clones are more like the new version of Yuu.

The next Yuu Noya had created is the one Mika is currently possessing. Of course, this “Yuu” wouldn’t act the same as the others since Mika is possessing it. Noya didn’t question this or at least, he seems to not and just leaves this Yuu be.

So either he’s just faking and realized that there’s something really different (as that look is suggesting) or the personality of the Yuu-chan clones differ from one another that this is a possibility. Also, since Yuu-chan is a clone, who was he cloned from? Was there an original Yuu-chan? What was he then? So many questions...

The 1st Progenitor and the others have arrived. Raimei scolds the kids for entering the room without permission but Byakko just tells her to go easy on them as they're just kids.

The group (minus the 1st Progenitor) looks like their demon selves: from the outfits to the horns). Does this mean they’ve been turned to demons at this point? Also, Byakko’s personality doesn’t look as serious as he seems as he currently is as Byakkomaru. By the way, I don’t think I’ve ever heard their original names being used so not sure if these are right. I got them from the wiki when I was looking at the correct name spellings for the other characters.

Back to the present, Rigr offers Urd the choice to join him in revenge. Rigr tells them that his preparations are ready and apologizes for taking too long with it. He asks Urd if the latter has any hostages and it's revealed that the people Urd was carrying earlier are Shinya and Kureto and so Rigr asked about their demons (which are their former vampire companions).

This is making me wonder what Urd’s plan is. At first of course I thought he’s asking Rigr about this revenge thing cause he wants to know if he could stop it or change Rigr’s mind. But now I’m confused cause the way he’s asking seems like he’s... interested? And Rigr asked about hostages which Urd already has and coincidentally (or not...?) they are Shinya and Kureto who are the contractors of Byakkomaru and Raimeiki. Rigr even asked about the demons.

Like if Urd turned out to switch sides and becomes Rigr’s ally, I don’t think I’d be surprised. The current arc is just everybody switching sides and backstabbing everyone else or having ulterior motives in the stuff they do. How many opposing groups do we even have now lol.

Switching back to the past, Mika continues to observe the others through the clone Yuu. Sika Madu seem to have realized what he really is though and addresses him directly.

I’m betting this is the real Sika Madu cause he’s already left Shinoa. Plus if his other demon companions could go to another demon’s world, there’s no doubt he could do it, too since he’s the most powerful of them all.

Sika Madu tries to put Mika to sleep. A struggling Mika hears Yuu's voice telling him that in order to escape they must work together. If they devour one another, Mika would become Yuu's demon. As Sika Madu continues to use his powers on Mika, Mika finally accepts and lets himself become Yuu's demon.

Finally! I guess if this goes well (which there’s a high chance this would go well unless the author decides to prolong the drama), Mika would finally become a demon weapon. it’s also another sword if I remember correctly. I wonder if Yuu will use it now that Asuramaru can’t be trusted? Speaking of which, I suddenly remembered the cover art for one of Owari no Seraph’s artbooks wherein Yuu is shown with his sword and the reflection in it is Mika. Foreshadowing or coincidence? Probably coincidence since it’s the reverse in another artbook. Still it’s cool.

The Vampire side of the story is slowly connecting to the protagonists’ side of the story. It looks like whatever it is that Rigr is planning, it’ll involve the demons residing in a majority of the main casts’ weapons. They’d cross paths sooner or later.

Shinya and Kureto got caught but where are the others? Where are the rest of Guren’s squad? I wonder who the demons are that’s inside of the weapons of the others...

I’m still sad they chose not to use the nickname Mika had for Yuu. “Yuu-chan” is distinctly Mika’s nickname for him (it’s even Mika’s favorite phrase according to one of the fanbooks haha). Plus since they never use any honorifics for the way everyone else calls Yuu (Yoichi’s “Yuu-kun” and Shinoa’s “Yuu-san” are just “Yuu/Yu” now), there’s no difference. Mika calling Yuu by a specific nickname even became a plot point when one of the human soldiers trusted Mika because of how he calls Yuu. Like, I get why they’re not using honorifics in the official translation but it’s still a shame. Now everytime I see Mika call Yuu or refer to Yuu, my mind fills in the missing honorific. It will always be “Yuu-chan” to me.

Anyways, the last page of this chapter never said when the next one would come out. I wonder why? I’m hoping it’s not a hiatus but it can’t be helped if it is. I’m kinda excited for what’s to come next. I wonder what happened to everyone else? Are we ever gonna get POVs from them or are they also just left to the side since they’re not part of the main conflict? I mean they seemed to have completely dropped Narumi since I haven’t seen him in a while.

Thanks for reading this if you did!

#owari no seraph #seraph of the end #ons #manga #sana_post

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collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

Christmas Eve - ep. 07 - Georgia

Summary: Christmas in King County and a hint at what lies behind the All-American girl persona that you wear.

A/N: Hope you guys are enjoying the rewrite so far!

Georgia Masterlist | The Walking Dead Masterlist

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Christmas Eve in King County, like everything else, was marked by the church. There was the Christmas Eve midnight service that Hershel led, the living nativity set up in the middle of the square, for the days leading up to Christmas, and, of course, Annette’s Christmas Eve dinner at the farm for all the church congregation to gather together. It was more of an open house and you always ended up ‘working it’ though it was really just a glorified dinner, no need for servers and no one got paid for the shift.

“Are you busy on Thursday?” You asked the question innocently, leaving out the part where Thursday was also Christmas Eve.

“Dunno,” Daryl shrugged, wiping his hands on the rag hanging out of his pocket as he turned to face you. A welcome distraction, having you around had prolonged the work that Daryl could’ve easily completed in two months. He was always stopping and starting when you came over though, more interested in you than in the car. Before he might’ve denied it but after Thanksgiving, he knew it was true, Rick had been right about him having feelings for someone. It wasn’t something he was used to but it was something.

“It’s Christmas Eve.”

“I got a calendar.” He replied, smiling when you pouted at him.

“Well if you’re calendar isn’t too booked maybe you’d come to the dinner Annette’s having at the Greene farm?” You replied, “it’s always a lot of fun.”

“Wouldn’t know, ain’t never been invited to it before.”

“I’m inviting you now.”

“Dunno,” he walked the short distance to the fridge and grabbed a beer out, “I’m not exactly a participating member of the community.”

“Dale will be there,” you offered, skimming over his last sentence. You knew he wasn’t anyone’s favorite person and you’d heard a good deal of Dixon stories from everyone who had heard that you were getting your car fixed by Daryl but that hadn’t dampened your opinion. Just because a bunch of people thought they knew him didn’t mean they did. “I’ll be there.”

“Ya want me ta spend Christmas Eve listening ta yer yammering on?” Daryl asked. You caught the hint of a smile and you knew he wasn’t as opposed to the idea as he was saying.

“Maybe...beats me showing up here to interrupt your night.”

“So you asked him to come to Christmas Eve dinner?” Maggie asked, standing beside the wooden structure meant to represent the manger, white and blue cloths and headdress covering her jeans and thermal shirt. It was chillier than either of you would’ve liked tonight.

“Yeah, thought it’d be nice, he’s never been.” You pointed out. You had been sent over with thermoses of hot chocolate and cups for the manger volunteers, standing a short way off so that you didn’t ‘break the illusion’.

“I highly doubt that Patty sent you over here to chitchat. You girls need to be better stewards of your time and your tongues.” Jacqui called, beckoning Maggie over as she spoke. You frowned, watching as Maggie rejoined the nativity cast. You weren’t a fan of King County’s holiest member of the community or her perception that she was better than everyone else.

Jacqui was a central member of the church, a ward against gossip though she had a tongue for it herself, and a general know-it-all. She had been managing the 7-11 in town since the owner had franchised his small business to them, before you were even born. She even rented the house that sat just to the left. There was a picture of the original business hanging behind the counter at the 7-11, the house with two gas pumps in front of it, an older man and his wife standing on the porch. Somehow all that deemed Jacqui a sort of unspoken ‘elder’ member of the community. A gossip but an important voice in the town. On par with Patricia, Annette, and Hershel though she was younger.

Her voice was important to everyone but you.

“I heard you were in again the other day with that Dixon fella, buying cigarettes.” She mentioned when she came over, claiming to want some hot chocolate.

“The cigarettes were his, I don’t smoke,” you replied, watching the nativity scene. Having a job this Christmas had saved you from having to participate with all the rest of the youth group and you were more than thankful for that. “Besides, he’s working on my car, like I keep saying.”

“I’d said you’re spending a little too much time in his company. Might not’ve picked up his smoking but you picked up his need for talking-back.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you smiled at her, “sorry Miss Jacqui, didn’t mean anything by it, must be the cold getting to me.”

“Must be.”

When she walked away again to reign in Joseph and a Wise Man you capped the rest of the hot chocolate and left it by the church table that was set up for donations. You weren’t lying about the cold, it was nearing forty at night as it got closer to January. Nothing you liked but you made due as long as you weren’t outside for too long. It was only when Patricia made you do ridiculous things like walk hot chocolate across the street to the living nativity that you really had to brave the weather.

“Oh good you’re back, you got a table. I was gonna take his order but he said he didn’t ‘want nothing yet’ figured he might be waiting for ya.” Amy said, bumping her hip against yours as you took your coat off, whispering and glancing over her shoulder to your section as she spoke.

You looked back, biting your lip to stop the smile on your face at the sight of Daryl sitting there reading over the menu. You grabbed your apron from the rack and tied it around your waist, “I got it, thanks.”

“He’s some trouble ya know.” Amy mentioned.

“He’s Just fixing my car.” You replied and even as you said it you knew it sounded like a lie. You walked over to his table, smiling when he looked up at you.

“Heard ya were bringing hot chocolate ta baby Jesus.” He said, grin in place.

“Yea course, haven’t you read that bit in the bible?” You teased. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Your own hot chocolate?”

“Coffee’s fine.”

“What brings you in?” You asked, hovering at the table, thankful for the slow night.

“Figured yer always showing up ta harass me while I work, ain’t fair I don’t give ya the same treatment.” Daryl replied.

You bit your bottom lip, preparing for a comeback when you heard Patricia call your name from behind the counter. She’d come out of the kitchen to see you standing at Daryl’s table, smiling at him like he just hung the stars and she’d almost had a heart attack. Patricia had seen him come in and had known, the moment he sat himself in your section, that he wasn’t moving anytime soon. She’d listened to you tell her the same story over and over again, that Daryl was fixing the jeep and that as soon as he was done so would your seeing him be.

“I only see him to pay him for the job.”

But Patricia wasn’t some naive young kid who you could pull the wool over. She’d been around the block a time or two and knew exactly what kind of temptations you were wading into hanging around Daryl Dixon.

“I’ll be right back with your coffee.” You promised, turning away from him and walking back to the counter. Patricia looked passed you, eyebrow raised in disdain as she watched Daryl fiddle with his laminated menu.

“Are you out of your damn mind?”

“What?” You asked innocently, “I was talking to a customer.”

“I have half a mind to call your mother and tell her you been hanging around Dixon on your off time.” Patricia said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Patty,” you insisted. If she called your parents then it was over. Your car would be in Woodbury, you would be grounded worse than Maggie could imagine, and you’d likely never see Daryl again.

“You watch yourself, you’re in dangerous territory.”

“He’s just fixing-”

“Your car. I heard.” Patricia replied.

“Can you hand me a coffee?” You asked, changing the subject.

She went to the other side of the counter to grab you a cup of coffee for Daryl while you turned back to look over at him. As if on some cue he looked over at you and you smiled. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck and you caught the faint pink the blossomed over his cheeks.

“One coffee.” Patricia said, setting it down and catching your attention again, “charge him this time.”

“I’ll make sure to get the dollar from him,” you replied, taking the cup and walking back over to Daryl’s table. Patricia shook her head, despite her friendship with your parents and the Greene’s she’d kept plenty of secrets for you and Maggie over the years. She hadn’t told them about Glenn and Maggie dating, she hadn’t told your parents about your tardiness over Thanksgiving or Daryl dropping off the pie plate when you’d claimed you were bringing the apple pie to Tara. She just wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing not telling them you were falling deeper and deeper into something with Daryl.

It was unspoken knowledge the way Will Dixon treated his kids. While Daryl’s mother hadn’t been some innocent girl getting taken advantage of she had loved her kids, Daryl a little more than Merle probably. She’d never hit them but she never stayed sober passed three in the afternoon and Patricia could still remember the senior Mr. Grimes coming in after the fire burned down the old house telling them about Daryl arriving home in time to see the place ablaze.

Losing his mother, watching his brother leave, enduring years of abuse from his father, Patricia couldn’t help but worry that the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree with Daryl. She’d been watching for any sign of abuse on you but she hadn’t seen any. If anything, you seemed happier than you had been in a while and it was that Patricia relied on to make herself feel better about not telling your parents that you were occupying your time with a Dixon.

“Ya working late?” Daryl asked as you idled by his table.

“I’ve got thirty more minutes then I’m free to trudge home in the cold.” You replied, “I’m going to Maggie’s...we’re setting up the barn tomorrow for the Christmas Eve party.”

“Ya need a ride?”

“Do you mind driving Maggie too?”

He shook his head. Daryl had come to the diner tonight just to see you. Aside from going to Dale’s for work or 7-11 for a pack of smokes he didn’t frequent too many places in King County. He was far from an active member in the community but he’d been turning up more often. The diner for one, the Winter Fest where Otis had spied him at the church table talking to you. He’d come tonight because he definitely wasn’t planning on going to the Christmas Eve party dinner that you had invited him to but he did have a present for you. Stupid, he was sure, but a present nonetheless.

You paged Maggie to tell her to meet you at the diner and finished out the rest of your shift while Daryl drank his coffee, paid, and left to smoke out in the parking lot. He was there, toking on a cigarette, when you exited the diner with your backpack.

“I really don’t like closing. I hate having to clean up.” You confessed as you came out to meet him.

“Shifts a shift.” He shrugged and you rolled your eyes at his words. “Here, ‘fore Maggie comes over and I gotta hear the two a ya bitching about the Nativity or something.”

“You don’t have to drive us.” You replied, taking the box wrapped in newspaper that he had handed you, “is this a present? Did you get me a present?”

“Ain’t nothing special...don’t get so excited.” He said, chewing his thumb as you opened the gift he’d bought. Sitting in the little box was a keychain. A leather strap folded over and fastened onto a thin metal plate that attached it to the key hook. The leather was embroidered with clumsy little flowers in yellow with green leaves.

“This is so pretty.” You smiled at Daryl, holding the keychain close as you gave him a one-armed hug.

Daryl tensed and pulled away, huffing as he tried to appear indifferent about the keychain, he’d made himself, “none a that, it ain’t nothing expensive. Just thought ya’d like it.”

“I love it, thank you.”

“I’m here, I’m here.” Maggie’s voice cut through your conversation as she came around the side of the truck, brushing out her hair from being pinned back in Mary’s head covering. Daryl dropped his cigarette and stubbed it out with his boot to distract himself from the blush that had started warming his cheeks when you hugged him. “Hi Daryl.” Maggie greeted.

“Hey,” he nodded to her before heading around to the driver’s side of the truck. You climbed in first, taking the middle seat, while Maggie climbed in second. You slipped the leather keychain back into the box and held it on your lap as Daryl pulled out of the diner with the two of you, heading toward Hershel’s farm.

The ride was quiet, a lull of conversation as Maggie complained about Jacqui and the other youth group kids that had been roped into the nativity. You stayed quiet, knee pressed against Daryl’s and hands gripping present he had given you, unable to contain the smile on your face. The truck drove the dirt path up to the farm and Daryl cut the engine, Maggie already opening the door and slipping out.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem.” Daryl replied, huffing out smoke as you slide across the seat, suddenly cold from the loss of touch. He was gripping the steering wheel with one hand as he watched you get out of the truck, lingering in the door like you always did.

“I do have a present for you, by the way.” You mentioned, spying the newspaper wrapping crumpled on the floor of the truck.

“Ya don’t have ta waster yer money.”

“Too late.” You teased. You met his eyes and your smile widened. On the other side of the truck you could hear the front door clatter open, the familiar squeak of the springs on the screen and footsteps bounding down as Beth ran across the headlights to engulf you in a hug.

“I missed you!”

“Hi Beth, I missed you too!”

Still holding your waist she caught sight of Daryl for the first time and twisted, moving her body behind yours and peeking out at him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Daryl dropped his cigarette into the ashtray in the truck as he nodded his head to her, “yer Beth I take it.”

“I am.”

“I like yer braids.” He mentioned, watching the sweet smile she offered as she moved further out so he could see the blonde french braids clearer.

“Thank you! My mom did them for me so that my hair will be wavy tomorrow for Christmas Eve.”

“I’m sure it’ll look beautiful.”

She giggled and you bit your lip as your eyes met his. “I’d better get inside, thanks for the ride.”

“Sure thing, see ya ‘round.”

You walked Beth inside, her gaze wandering back to the pickup as she climbed the porch stairs with you. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“No. Daryl’s not my boyfriend.”

“She wishes.” Maggie teased, waiting at the door for the two of you.

The barn at Christmas was arguably one of your favorite sights in the world. Hershel took great pride in outlining the entire building with lights, he hung a oversized wreath on the side with a large spotlight and the whole thing felt like you were walking into a Hallmark movie or a Thomas Kincaide mural. Georgia didn’t a lot of real winter weather but the barn made you feel like you were in some New England town.

“I was sorry to hear your dad couldn’t make it.” Jacqui came up behind you, her voice returning you to the reality of the evening. Hershel’s barn decorated at Christmas was your favorite but the people who filled it weren’t.

“Yeah, he wishes he could be.” You shrugged. “Working.”

“That’s what your mom said. At least he’s a good worker right? Must be where you get it from.”

Just passed Jacqui you could see your mom talking to Annette. Her eyes met yours and she straightened up, pointing to her mouth and indicating for you to smile. You straightened your back and offered Jacqui a closed lip smile before answering her, “yeah. Must be.”

When Jacqui left to talk to another church member your mom made a quick beeline for you, wrapping her hand around your arm and guiding you outside, away from the party. “What did Jacqui want?”

“She was just asking about dad-”

“What did you say?”

“I said he was at work. God, mom we went over this in the car...I’m not stupid.” You crossed your arms in front of you, looking away from her.

“You didn’t say anything to Maggie?”

“No.”

“Hey!” She grabbed at your jaw to make you look at her, nails scratching against your cheek, “look at me. Did you tell Maggie?”

“No. I didn’t say anything to anyone mom.” You replied, pulling away from her and stepping back, “can I go back inside or did you want to assault me some more?”

“For Gods sake stop being so dramatic.”

“Dramatic? You dragged me out here to ask if I told some random person that my dad is in rehab for the billionth ti-”

“Keep your voice down!” She snapped, “you want everyone to hear you?”

“Sorry mama.”

She smoothed back your hair, pushing stray pieces away from your face and fixing your headband for you before leading you both back inside for the continuation of the night. Neither of you spoke to each other the rest of the evening. Not in the car on the way to the service at church and not once you’d gotten home. You went in your room to change and listened to her in the kitchen, trying to throw together a lunch as she prepared to work through the holiday. A knock on your bedroom door was the only thing to signify that she was leaving and would likely work the whole of Christmas.

The Greene’s would be confused if you went to theirs too early in the morning and you didn’t want to disturb Daryl any more than you already did by showing up at his. Tara was spending the holiday upstate visiting her sister and seeing her niece. The diner was closed. You opted for going straight to bed once your dress was off and your face was clean…hopefully you’d be lucky and you’d sleep through the holiday.

Taglist: @hopesxxhigh @coffeebooksandfandom @jodiereedus22 @tehfabbooty @thecaptainsgingersnap @of-storms-and-sadness @twdeadfanfic @alwaysadreamingoptimist @mainokutan @sabertooth-potato @qrangr @bucky-barnes-babies @ly--canthrope @daryldixonandfrogs @jaycc7983 @easnuppa @imaginecrushes @tonystarkismyboy @watchmeaspire @harpersmariano @cbarter @onemorebeautifulnightmare @mainokutan @gigilame @sabertooth-potato @enrapturedbythemoon @cathwritestragediesnotsins @siren-queen03

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon au #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #twd fic #twd fanfiction #twd au #twd fanfic #twd imagine #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fic #the walking dead fanfiction #The Walking Dead AU #the walking dead imagine #georgia series #collecting stories imagine

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scripttorture · 4 years

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Regarding ICURE, I have a character who is familiar with the process and a deep understanding of most of the mindsets and mental states involved in torture, interrogation, and captivity. Would that make resistance to the techniques easier? How would a willingness to engage and empathize with captors, combined with an awareness of their goals and methods and a greater than average degree of self-awareness and self confidence interact?

I’m mostly working without studies here extrapolating based on what I know.

The only bit of this I can definitively answer is that knowledge of what torture does wouldn’t effect the high innate resistance we have to it. Resistance to torture is bound up in so many fundamental systems, like how our nerves physically register pain, that conscious knowledge wouldn’t make much difference to the outcome.

It might make the character feel better or more confident though: ‘There’s no way you can force this information out of me’. It might also make the recovery process a little easier if the character is tortured. Knowledge about mental illness and how they’re treated can help people identify what they’re going through and process it more quickly. It can also make it easier to seek help.

For those who are new to the blog ICURE is a combination of techniques that can be used to change someone’s beliefs over time. As with everything there is not a 100% success rate but unlike torture consistently applied ICURE can lead to a controlled change in the target’s belief system.

It stands for Isolate, Control information, create Uncertainty, Repetition and Emotional responses.

A group of characters attempting to use ICURE would isolate the target from other characters, ensure that the information/news the target gets lines up with what the group believes. They’d then attempt to create uncertainty about previously held core beliefs and respond in an overblown emotional fashion if the target attempts to challenge their own beliefs. Repetition of this, consistently over a prolonged period (months or years) can (but does not always) lead to change in core beliefs.

For an example let’s imagine a story applying this to Bucky Barnes from the Marvel series.

A group holding him might try to create uncertainty by underlining how long he’s been held and how his friends haven’t attempted to rescue him. They might give him news that his best friend has another group of heroes he works with now. Bucky has been abandoned, forgotten. And so forth.

An emotive response in this scenario could be something like the primary care giver of the group (the person who most regularly interacts with Bucky, giving him food and trying to interact positively) flying off the handle when Bucky mentions his old friends. How can he be so ungrateful? Doesn’t he realise what the caregiver has risked and sacrificed to keep Bucky safe? Does he think persuading the group to ‘help’ Bucky and keep him alive was easy?

You get the idea.

My instinct is that knowledge of these techniques would make them less effective. These things are never 100% successful and I think consciously acknowledging the manipulative nature of ICURE would make it harder for the captors to achieve total success.

However a lot of the reason these techniques work is because humans are social animals. We need interaction with other members of the species in order to remain healthy. And as a result we often change and adapt in order to fit in with new groups. We are geared to compromise in order to gain or maintain positive social contact.

I am not a psychologist or psychiatrist but I do know that there a lot of research papers which suggest personal opinions can gradually change over time when we’re surrounded by people with differing views in non-coercive settings.

This does not necessarily mean full conversion to another set of ideals. The impression I get is that it mostly looks like a series of small and subtle changes.

For the sake of avoiding internet insanity let’s make up an issue. Let’s make up a character who grew up in an area where no one wears red and the colour has a lot of negative associations.

This character moves to a different area where the colour has different connotations and wearing red is a neutral act. Over a period of years the character’s attitudes towards the colour might mellow. They might never wear red themselves. They might not decorate with the colour. But they’ve met a fair few people who occasionally wear red now and they’re decent people. They don’t judge people who wear red the way they did when they first moved in to the area.

What I’m trying to illustrate here is that it’s normal for people’s views to shift over time. Obviously this does not always happen. People can hold extreme or vastly differing views when compared to their community.

From a certain point of view my views are extreme. Most cultures in our global society accept and legitimise violence to differing degrees. Pacifism is the absolute rejection of violence*. If you take a moment to think about how often violence permeates all aspects of our lives (from child care to religion to politics) you’ll see what I mean.

What I’m trying to illustrate here is that while we do adjust and change to fit in with the people surrounding us we can also cling to things that are very much against the norm. And that makes it difficult to answer any of these questions with certainty. There is a lot of individual variation.

A lot of the techniques to resist effective interrogation are essentially a refusal to interact. But the longer someone’s held outside their community the less viable that is as an option. We can choose to do things that are harmful to us (including avoiding needed social contact) but it’s hard. Because it’s unhealthy.

I think the way I’d approach this as a writer is to start by identifying the core values of this character, the things that are most important to them. Try to think of things the character absolutely could not compromise without becoming a different character.

Circling back to the example of Bucky Barnes, a core value might be his relationship with Steve Rogers, his oldest friend.

Once you have an idea of the core values think of the next most important value. And keep going.

I tend to do this pretty instinctively. For me it’s a part of my messy, sprawling character creation. If you need to take a more visual or organised approach to figuring things out then a list (with the most important values at the top) or a circle (with the most important values in the middle) might be helpful.

Next think through the same process for the group that has captured the character. Since it’s a group rather then an individual it should be simpler. (Because a group is unlikely to be as nuanced and complicated as an individual.)

See if there’s any overlap which might be grounds for grudging mutual respect. Values like loyalty to your own group and taking care of the people on your side are good things to use for this.

I would then look at the more peripheral values the character has and shift some of them a little over time.

Keeping Bucky as our example I might put something like ‘American cultural values’ as a more peripheral value. Bucky seems to prize the culture he was raised in and consider it the norm. But it’s not something he bases his personality on or something that motivates him through the stories. So shifting that, having him not see it as the ‘norm’ any more, or adopting things his captors did would be a good way to show that he has been influenced.

Obviously the right choice, the right value to shift, depends on the characters and the story you want to tell. The degree to which you want to shift the character’s values is also up to you.

Bigger shifts, or more obvious shifts, could serve to cause conflict later in the story. This could lead the character to feel rejected, like their loyalty is being questioned after everything they went through.

Bigger shifts could also serve a practical purpose in the story though. If this character has gained a greater understanding for the group they’re opposed to that could make them a much more effective interrogator. They might know how to establish rapport more quickly and earn the trust of captured prisoners. Which could in turn lead to more accurate information.

Greater understanding of the group they’re opposed to could also help with strategic thinking/planning.

Smaller shifts add less elements to the story. But that could be a good thing too depending on your story. If you don’t have a lot of time or space to explore new conflicts or skills then this approach would save you narrative space while still showing the character has been effected.

It would also work if the point here is to show the character as mostly unmoved, unchanged, despite coercive external pressure.

I hope that helps :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

*In case anyone’s interested I personally define violence as harmful acts done without consent.

#pinctada1798 #writing advice #tw torture #manipulation #ICURE #effective interrogation #isolation #social pressure #social interaction #shifting views #prison #interrogation #character development

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aboutkoshi · 3 years

Text

Three.

ft. Sugawara Koshi wc: 2500+ a/n: the idea’s been floating around my head and i just had to write it out... fluffy and domestic suga ahead!

─

Everything is warm. The colors of the sky, as the sun begins to set. The kitchen, from the smoke the cooking pan births as you brew his favorite dish. The smile on your face, as you let the wooden spoon rest and turn your head to check the time. Your eyes land on a framed picture you had taken with him years ago; your arm clinging around his waist tightly, and his encompassing your shoulder even more tightly, both of you not letting the other have an easy win at who could smile the biggest. And finally, the feeling in your chest, accompanied with a hand that itches to reach for the phone to tell him right then and there, but you figure your patience will be rewarded when you get to tell him in person.

Any minute now. You think to yourself, the corners of your lips having turned upwards to form the smallest of smiles at the mere thought. When you sent him off to work this morning, you had no idea you would be able to welcome him back home with such life-changing news. The smile, and the nervousness, only grows as your ears register the familiar sound of the door clicking open and close, with his voice chirping in between, and you swear you’ve never loved hearing your name as much as now.

“In the kitchen, Koshi,” you hum as you begin to complete the final steps of your dish, but the overwhelming scent of chili and oil proves to be more useful in leading him to where you stand. One second you are stirring the pan and making sure everything is lathered evenly, and the next you find yourself jolting out of surprise as two dependable arms wrap themselves around your waist from the back.

“Mapo tofu today? My birthday isn’t until a few more months, sweetheart,” he teases, chin comfortably lazing on your shoulder. You shake your head, eliciting a reserved chuckle. He allows himself an exaggerated whiff of the dish and exhales softly with a sigh. His hold around your figure is as gentle as it is firm, and he turns his head to press a kiss onto the side of yours, mumbling a muffled “I’ve missed you.”

The house is warm, but the home is warmer.

“It hasn’t even been twelve hours since we last met, Koshi,” you reason playfully, unable to hold back another chuckle. You turn the heat of the stove down to low to grant yourself the ability to completely look the love of your life in the eye, and the little pout that greets you as you turn around is just as lovable as you had imagined. Your features soften, and as much as you’d like the pout to stick around just a little longer, you admit that the desire to see him smile is even bigger. “I’ve missed you more,” you mumble, arms looping around his neck, and you watch as he relaxes in your hold. He leans forth, just enough to let your foreheads meet. His eyelids are fluttered shut and the tip of his nose lightly nudges yours, and the giggle you let out is his favorite melody.

“Go shower. The tofu will be done just in time,” you urge, and he stays silent, wanting to be this close to you for just another prolonged second, eventually responding with a tilt of his head as he plants a tender kiss on your forehead.

“That, I will do,” he grins as he pulls away, and you mirror it with one of your smiles.

“Mm, take your time.”

“That, I will not,” he cheekily responds.

You set the bowls of tofu on the table, garnishing it with a last sprinkle of chili powder, nodding in content to yourself over how good they look, smell, and based on a few sneaky tests straight from the pan, taste.

With the ring hugging your finger comes a few exclusive privileges. For instance, at least two kisses daily (one before every meal I get to eat with you, he says), the biggest embraces of pride and comfort, a hand to hold wherever and whenever, dates ranging from movies and pillow forts in the living room all the way to planned fancy dinners, a sweater or two to steal, and helping him pick a tie or cardigan that matches his clothing every morning.

But your personal favorite has to be the sight that greets you as you look up; him walking out of your shared bedroom with his hair still half wet (just like every other promise he’s ever made, he’s lived up to his words of not taking his time), an almost reflexive grin growing on his face when your eyes meet, and a worn-out shirt that’s too big for him, one that he has an odd affinity towards and claims has brought him luck (I wore it for our first stay-at-home date, look where we are today, he had defended).

He sits himself across from you on the dining table, rubbing his hands together in excitement and humming in delight. His reaction alone is enough to make you want to run out to the market to grab some ingredients to make another batch tomorrow.

“Take your time and blow first, it’s fresh from the stove,” you remind with a firm nod, and are met with a response as sheepish as the simper on his face.

“No promises.” and he takes a spoonful of a little of everything in his bowl, muttering a brief prayer of gratitude for both the food and you, followed by a quick “I’ll eat really well!” under his breath, and you hold yours as he takes his first bite. He makes sure to look at you as he chews, slowly at first, and the visible hint of his smirk tells you he’s only doing it because he knows you’re nervous. Ultimately, he reaches out to ruffle your hair, fully smiling as he finally swallows and nods in approval. “Any day now you decide to open a store of your own, babe, I call dibs on being your taste tester and forever favorite customer, alright?” With this, you beam, and take a first bite of your own.

“How was work today, hm?” you ask, one hand using the spoon to mix everything in the bowl while the other hand is tucked snugly in his. His fingers are curled over yours, thumb caressing the back of your hand every so often. His eyes light up, and you are convinced that his enthusiasm has made him forget the fact he has actual steaming food in his mouth.

“So you remember Akio─” he chokes on his half-chewed tofu, the violent coughing causing you to widen your eyes and hurriedly offer a glass of water. The panic is fleeting, as he finds himself laughing in his own embarrassment, and you chuckle, despite shaking your head in disapproval.

“As I was saying,” he continues after a few gulps of water, clearing his throat to get rid of any remnants of discomfort, “you know Akio, baby? He finally gathered enough courage to confess to his little crush today!” It feels foolish to be this excited over a school grader’s love life, but in your defense, it’s been a story that both you and he have followed since a few months ago. “Really?!” you reply, “How’d he do it?” you question, at the same time using a napkin to wipe the corner of his lips where a light splatter of sauce has landed. “Bouquet of flowers, a shy and nervous confession, very traditional, very genuine,” he describes, and you nod, mouthing an ‘oooh’. “She said yes.” and you coo loudly at this, putting down the spoon momentarily to clutch onto your chest. “I’m beginning to believe it has a 100% success rate,” he smiles smugly, and you only shake your head in mock disbelief, having another spoonful of food.

“I’m serious!” he laughs, “I mean. . . that’s how I scored you, too, wasn’t it?” The last bit is barely audible, and the tint on his cheeks is easy to miss when you’re too busy trying to cool the heat on your own cheeks down. He’s the first to recover from the shyness, and he titters as he brings your hand close to his lips so he can lovingly peck each of your knuckles.

“On other news, Ume managed to score higher than her last test! I always knew she was capable, she just needed someone to believe in her until she could believe in herself,” he explains, and amongst everything there is to love about your husband, his passion towards his job and his love for children is definitely up there.

“You did a great job today, as always, Sugawara-sensei,” you compliment, and though he brushes it off with a bashful chuckle, you catch the way his cheeks are splashed with your favorite shade of pink. “They’re adorable, baby. They make time away from you a lot more bearable,” he acknowledges. You smile, and you continue having your meal, but he does not.

“It would be lovely to have one of our own.”

You pause, and he only realizes afterwards that the words have been said out loud, as opposed to merely thinking them, and he rushes to add, “I-I mean─ of course I’d love to build a family with you, and just the thought of coming home to you and a mini you, or a mini me, is a dream come true, and─ but─”

You squeeze his hand, silently telling him to calm and slow down, flashing him a reassuring smile that he hasn’t said or done anything wrong.

He sighs in relief.

“And I also know that that would require at least ten folds of effort for me, and even with that it would be so much more difficult on you than it would be for me, but all I wanted to say is. . is that as ready as I am to care for you and another human being, I am also just as patient to wait for you until you’re ready, no matter how soon or how late, so we can take our time, okay?”

You let out a breath you weren’t even aware you were holding, and he is momentarily alerted by how you don’t respond with anything else, not even a nod. And so his lips part to say something, anything at all, to put any and all of your worries to sleep, and an extra apology because maybe he should have been more careful.

“How. . how soon would it be too soon?”

It isn’t among any of the answers his mind had expected, and it’s evidently displayed across his face, but it isn’t one he isn’t willing to entertain. “Well─”

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence. Only the sound of your own heart pounding in your chest and his eyes boring into your soul, cautious enough to look and gauge any of your reactions, maybe a telltale sign that you were also trying to test his waters, but with thousands of thoughts running through and seemingly clouding his mind, he finds none.

“You’re pregnant. .” he echoes in a barely audible whisper, eyes darting elsewhere for a moment, and then back at you.

“You’re. . pregnant?” he whispers, and you nod slowly, the emotions coming in waves. The relief is calm and serene, the realization is causing an unfamiliar but welcomed tightness in your chest, and the exhilaration is begging to crawl out of your throat as you finally break into a hearty laugh, this time able to nod more confidently. It is only after you have gotten over your own emotions that you notice he’s in it even deeper. His brows are furrowed, a habit that makes its entrance every time he gets confused ─ in this case, probably about which emotion he should tackle first ─ his eyes are sparkling from how hard he is trying to prevent his tears from escaping, and his mouth is twitching as he barely manages a smile, one that is proud and elated.

“Oh my goodness, you’re pregnant! Can I─ can I hug you?” and he is already on his feet before you even get to answer. The final peak of your emotions comes in the form of a strong ripple of happiness quite literally sweeping you off of your feet. You squeal as he lifts you up and gives you a little twirl, putting you back down urgently only to cup your cheeks, thumbs smoothing out the corners of your eyes.

“Am I hurting the baby while doing that, oh no─ oh, you are so beautiful, my darling!” he exclaims, and the stream of tears that decorates his face as he does so is a lot more than enough to make you cry along, as well as laugh at the silliness of it all, accompanied by spurts of giggles as he proceeds to pepper your entire face with kisses, all at the same time. He halts himself, your face still snug on his palms.

“I’m going to be a father. .” he trails off, and another laugh escapes your lips at how there are visible stages to how he reacts to the news. You’d be the last person to make fun of him, however, as you’d pretty much gone through the same stages just this afternoon.

“You’re going to be an amazing one,” you reassure in a murmur, kissing each of his palms and cupping the back of his hands.

“Only because I get to raise our baby with the most wonderful person,” he replies, “it’s going to be so lovely, my love! We’ll get you signed up for one of those breathing exercises classes─ don’t worry, I’ll go with you to each and every one! I’ve heard enough from the mothers at school. What are you craving for right now? Was the tofu too spicy?! What color do you think we should be decorating our baby’s room with? And─”

“And how about you. . accompany me for my first doctor’s appointment tomorrow, before anything else?” you kindly interrupt, because as endearing as it is to watch him be equally excited, if not more, the last thing you want is for him to overwhelm himself. And just for good measure, “We’ll attend. . all of the classes you want us to attend, and decorate our baby’s room together, and do so much more together, all when the time comes, yes?” and he nods in both excitement and understanding.

“There’s no one else I’d rather be doing all of this. . and all of that with, my love,” he breathes out, “thank you, so very much, for making me the happiest man, every day,” and he brings you closer to kiss your forehead. As he pulls away, his gaze falls south to your tummy, and he looks at you as if for permission, and you wordlessly take his hand and place it onto your stomach.

“We can’t wait to meet you, little one.”

─

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi #hq x reader

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nutley-rp · 3 years

Text

Endwalker commentary - part 3!

SPOILERS. So this is pretty much just going through the 5th zone from start to finish.

Elpis

Ok I did NOT expect this at all. My god. This is just going to prepare me for a heart shattering, to see an older incarnation of Fandaniel / Hermes

Ahhghfhsdfsl Hades / Emet and the man whose name I cannot spell. They’re so beautiful they kind of look like modded sim characters AHAHA

Meteion is cute, so small. And Hermes seems like a cool dude

Interesting soul lore. Like, things just...get souls and no one knows how or controls that. If it seems like a living thing then it probably has a soul, otherwise it’s an arcane entity but regardless, both will act to prolong existence. I still wonder what this means for primals

Huhh dynamis. It’s not aether just, another form of energy. So having less aether makes you more sensitive to it, which is why the sundered straight up turn into monsters while the unsundered simply had their creation magic go crazy? And Meteion is a very strange creation. I wonder how she’ll show up in the present day

HERMES Hfhjdshfksdf SO BEAUTIFUL EXCUSE ME

Oh interesting, Meteion (creatures of dynamis) are meant to travel the stars and there are already a bunch of ‘em doing that

Venat is the previous Azem! And she mentored...past WOL Azem! She seems really badass! Also lmao Emet....stop making that sighing sound fdskjlfjdslk grouchy DISTRACTING MAN

Interesting to try to piece together the future with the past selves. Venat is certain she’d fight, as opposed to run, so maybe there’s something left for us in the present to help us? And also ahahah Emet being mad at who he becomes

Getting my shit kicked in and loving every second

Hmm these conversations...Hermes’s flying creations somehow utilize celestial currents. What’s the connection between dynamis and celestial aether currents?

...the echo is something all Ascians can do, by reading the “carvings” left behind in ambient aether, or as someone else is recalling. It’s interesting to have it called out as something very normal. Then again, it’s an ability that awakens in the sundered so. Similarly was fun how the “blessing of light” is just like, Venat’s “traveling ward.” Everyone used to be so jacked.

My prediction - Meteion lures some bad aliens back home. Or that she somehow is like...twisted into some big bad.

So the ascians couldn’t figure out the source of the final days due to them being so aether-based, and dynamis didn’t transform them due to them being dense (only affecting their magic). Whereas the sundered are more acutely affected due to being less dense and transform.

Oh.

........YYYYYEAHHHHH..........

And here comes the sus music. I wonder what Meteion found...and I hope this is the last time I have to find her lol. Wait. Nevermind, gdi, I have to find her again. I hate this.

Wonder if Fandaniel’s desire to end all life stems from a desire to help Meteion find peace? Hermes is critical about how flippantly souls outside of men are treated, feels existence is flawed, so maybe? That’s why he wants to see it all end?

Ohh will he be a trial? Oh boy. (Also I wonder how everything I’m doing will impact, or lead up to the present)

So Meteion is the source of the Final Days, because she’s so full of despair and has control over dynamis. And it just seemed like the celestial currents were the source because...uhh, I’m not actually clear on this, but maybe just since that’s where her influence can be felt the easiest first? Either way I predict she’s like, literally in the core of the planet or something. Final zone prediction is literally Meteion somehow. (That’d be kind of funny, mining her for like, rocks to make a nice helmet)

Huh they did mention how Hermes has access to a memory altering machine, or something similar earlier. So maybe he uses this to make people forget about the cause because otherwise, I’d trust Venat/Emet to deal with him and Meteion.

Aaand then I stopped before doing the dungeon because it’s 2 AM AND I KEEP DCing. But looking forward to watching Emet get KO’d!

#I can sense it #getting closer to the end #lvl 87!!!!#and once I'm done I will lay down and sleep #ha ha just kidding I need to play sage

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storiesforallfandoms · 5 years

Text

a great team ~ yungblud

word count: 1730

request?: yes!

“could u maybe write a dom/yungblud fic?? maybe he meets a writer working for his record label (she could be writing someones biography or smth) and they hit it off and then maaaybe flashfoward to them being together??”

(i made her a songwriter i hope that’s okay!)

description: in which a famous songwriter is paired up with a famous alt. rock musician and they find out that they’re a great team, in more ways than one

pairing: yungblud x female!reader

warnings: swearing mainly

masterlist

You checked the time again as you tapped your fingers against the steering wheel. You were late for the meeting you had with the new artist you were supposed to be working with because you left your house later than you meant and got stuck in traffic. You didn’t even know who you were supposed to be working with because your agency hadn’t told you who it was yet, so you couldn’t even contact the person to tell them you’d be late!

You sighed heavily as your car moved about another inch. You looked at the time once again, willing the traffic to let up so you could make it before the artist just left.

The one upside to being stuck in traffic was that you were having some good ideas for songs. The downside was that because you didn’t know who the person you were supposed to be working with was, you had no idea if the song would be the right genre for the artist. Regardless, every time your car came to a stop you wrote some more lyrics down. By the time you finally got through the traffic you had a whole song written.

You were humming a possible beat to yourself as you raced through the hall till you got to the studio you were book in for the day.

“I am so sorry, traffic was absolutely awful and I got stuck,” you explained the moment you pushed the door open.

The person waiting for you was a younger looking guy with a messy mop of black hair, wearing an oversized hoodie and a pair of skinny jeans. He looked up at you and smiled.

“It’s cool! I figured that’s what it was. I’m not long here myself,” he responded. He stood and held his hand out to you. “I’m Dom, professionally known as Yungblud.”

“Oh! Yeah, I know you. I love your latest EP, it’s like the most played thing on my phone right now.” You realized his hand was still extended to you. “Oh! Right! I’m (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N),” Dom said.

“So,” you said as you both sat down together, “why do you need a songwriter? I thought you wrote your own stuff.”

“I do,” Dom responded. “But my label is pushing for my next album like now, so they called in some help. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the help, but I hate being rushed. Making music is a process that can’t be rushed.”

“Trust me, I understand. I’ve had my fair share of singers essentially being forced to work with me because they’re under some sort of time limit to get an album done. Record labels just don’t get it because all they do is slap their name on the thing and release it to the world.” You shrugged. “On the positive side of all of this, while I was stuck in traffic I managed to write a song if you wanna check it out.”

“Like a completed song?” You nodded your head and laughed at Dom’s bewildered expression. “Yes! Let me see it!”

You passed Dom your phone. You watched him read through the lyrics in silence, waiting anxiously for his reaction.

He started nodding his head and humming to himself before singing a couple of the lyrics. The melody he came up with was definitely much better than what you were humming.

“It’s amazing!” he finally said. “That’s perfect! I have to make a note of this melody in my head before we continue. We’ll work on the instrumentals later. I only need like four more songs and then the album is ready to go.”

“Let’s get to work then!”

You two were sat there for hours on end. It was easy bouncing ideas off of one another and banging out three more songs together. It was as if you both had the same mind when it came to songs and lyrics, and even melodies as you were eventually coming up with the instrumental ideas for the songs and both your ideas were the exact same.

Before you knew it, you had the album written. All that was left to do was figure out the instrumentals and the vocals.

“Well, that was a breeze,” Dom commented. “We make a pretty great team, huh?”

“Honestly, you’re the best musician I’ve worked with,” you told him. “Most people I work with, especially on such a strict deadline, are so hard to write with. They want the album to be perfect since it’s so close to being released that they refuse some of the stuff I write because it’s ‘not their style’ and ‘too simple’. I wonder why they kept me around for so long. Realistically, you could’ve told me to leave at any time if you weren’t enjoying my company.”

“That’s awful,” Dom said. “I don’t understand how people can turn down help when they obviously need it. It’s hard enough to write one song by yourself, let alone having to do multiple in one session. Even if the lyric didn’t sound like something they’d sing, that’s why they’re there, to make it sound like their style.”

You shrugged. “Some people are afraid of being called out for having a ghostwriter, too. I’ve worked with a couple artists who said they’d consider my ideas and then didn’t use them at all so they didn’t have to put my name in the writing credits. It’s all about appearance, you know. If you’re found out to have a song writer help you they accuse you of ghostwriting. It’s hard in the industry to be a songwriter alone and not a singer-songwriter.”

Dom shook his head. “That’s not right. Most people need a professional songwriter to help them out.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

There was a prolonged silence between the two of you. You weren’t sure what else to say or do. You both technically had the studio booked for another hour, but there wasn’t much that could be done right now without a producer or any musicians present. A couple of the songs written were meant to be collabs with other singers, so those couldn’t be done until Dom reached out to those artists.

“So,” Dom started after a moment, “you said I can tell you to leave at anytime. I know we technically have another hour before our session is up, but would you be opposed to being kept a bit over our time?”

You raised an eyebrow, confused by his question. “What do you mean?”

“Like...I dunno, would you wanna grab something to eat or something?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the question. “Yeah, I would love that.”

~~~~~~

A few months later, you were sat at home watching a late night talk show in which Dom was performing and being interviewed. His performance, which was of the song you had written that day in traffic, had just ended and you were waiting for the show to start back up after the commercials.

When it finally did, there was Dom, sat next to the interviewer and smiling widely.

“Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen we are sat down now with Yungblud!” the host announced. The crowd cheered in excitement and Dom was beaming at them all. “So, this new album, it comes out in about a week. What can fans expect from the album?”

“It’s a sort of different album as far as what fans usually get from me. It’s still my usual style but it’s sort of different subject matters on each song than what I usually sing about.”

“And I heard that you actually had a songwriter brought in to help you write some of the songs.”

Dom nodded proudly, unashamed to admit it. “I did, yeah! Her name is (Y/N). She’s honestly the best songwriter in the game if you ask me. We got together and I’d say in 2 hours flat we had songs written, melodies figured out and we had sent out samples to artists we wanted featured on the album. That’s the fastest I’ve ever gotten anything done.”

The audience applauded and you couldn’t help but smile at, even though no one could see you.

“On the topic of this songwriter,” the interviewer continued, “there have been some reports that the two of you may or may not be dating. There’s been pictures of the two of you together getting very cozy.”

The smile on Dom’s face only got wider. He looked up at the interviewer and shrugged before responding, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag. Yeah, we are dating. We have been since that day in the studio, actually. We thought we made a great team songwriting wise, let’s see if we make a great team dating wise. And so here we are.”

The crowed cheered excitedly. You felt as if a massive weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Keeping this relationship a secret, even if for a couple of months, had been the toughest thing for you. You just wanted to tell everyone that you two were together. To post all the cute pictures you had saved on your phone, to not be afraid of being caught by fans or paparazzi. To just be a happy couple in public no matter what.

Now, it was out there for the world to know, and you couldn’t feel happier about it.

The interview continued until the host thanked Dom for coming onto the show and plugging his album one last time before going to commercial. Nearly seconds later, you phone was ringing. You looked down to see that it was Dom trying to facetime you. His face was still beaming with pride when you answered his call.

“Did you see it, babe?” he asked. He sounded so excited, like a kid in a candy store.

“I saw it,” you confirmed. “How do you feel, baby?”

“I feel so free!” he declared. “I’m so glad to publicly call you mine.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m glad to publicly call you mine, too. Finish up your press tour for your album soon and come back to me, I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, love,” he told you. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

He kissed his camera and you giggled again, kissing yours back. Yeah, you both definitely made a great team.

I’m sorry if this sucked :/

#yungblud #yungblud imagine #yungblud x reader #dominic harrison #dominic Harrison imagine #dominic Harrison x reader #imagine #request #one shot #imagine request #leave a request

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enigma-im · 4 years

Text

Hot Blooded

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Hufflepuff x Ravenclaw Warning: based on another story, sexual fever, original characters, Harry Potter world, dirty talk, intercourse

Word Count: 3797

Based on This story.

-------------------------------

My skin felt prickly and sticky against my clothes. The offense of wearing anything was down right irredeemable to my body. The thinnest hairs stuck to my forehead and neck, my limbs heavy. I felt drunk, the best comparison I could make. Though in my experiences of being drunk I have never been so unbelievably horny. It's repulsive to think about the slick dribbling down my leg. The way my nipples harden by the slightest breeze- or slightest adult thought.

It was helpful in some way to know everyone feels the same, disgusted in their own skin. Some took to the change fine, taking the opportunity to touch whoever to better their chances of getting their rocks off. It was simple to tell who took this seriously and who took this a chance to sleep with someone. To be fair, some of those people also saw this as a romantic endeavor. I couldn't even bother to look at it that way. I hardly cared about relationships or doing the 'beast with two backs' with another. I had better things to do with my time than stare wistfully at someone till they notice me and ask me out. This entire situation was more than inconvenient.

On the other hand, I can see how this would be beneficiary to everyone. It has started taking down the divides the houses have brought upon us. Which is grand, it was a ridiculous notion in itself to parade around like your house was the superior one. We all brought something to the table, it be ignorant not to see it. Also the added points of getting the relationship thing out of the way. I won’t lie and say I am revolted by the very idea of coupling off with someone. I have always wanted the familiarity that comes with a partner, even the physical parts. I just loathe the experience of dating. This cuts that in a way that I can admire but still despise my lack of control over. I just hope that my lover will be someone who can challenge me in ways most don't. less you are another Ravenclaw, then that’s just for sport more than the value of conversation.

The first week is painful, I won't lie. It's when word gets out that self relaxation brings the boiling to a simmer that its more tolerable. I find myself trotting off often just to be able to relax in my own skin. I try to take a guess who my other might be knowing that people generally feel a pull. Of course first day everyone figured out who's partner was in their respective houses. So I know to not even bother with catching eyes with people at my dinner row. I first glance over to Slytherin, I never bought into the whole 'they are the evil house'. That was just rude. I can see the appeal in them, having a strong leadership role in their lives as high standing citizens. I wouldn't be opposed to snatching one of their members for my own. After a while of nothing, I don't even glance their way.

I try for a Gryffindor, appreciating their brave personalities. Very selfless people who will take a bullet for the ones they are loyal to. I adore that kind of devotion. In my own private times I have dabbled in stories that feeds towards a more romantic style. My heart swells at the lover's care and loyalty towards one another. I would be perfectly content with a Gryffindor boyfriend. A passing thought, 'a jock to my genius'. Not that I ever flattered myself a genius, never. Still, it seems it wasn't meant to be.

I do not try to label everyone, knowing stereotypes are but hurtful boxes we draw around one another. A Gryffindor isn't always going to be the heroes to a story just like a Slytherin isn't some villain lurking in the shadows. But I'm not perfect, never claimed to be. I believe some groups tend to fall in certain categories, not restricted to but…

When I first see him I'm awestruck. My body tingles and my loins throb. For a moment all I could think about was tearing his shirt off with my teeth. Any other time that would have been alarming, but I could hardly care. He doesn't meet my eyes, just smiling brightly with his friends. He is brawny man, his chest broad and firm looking. His hair is wavy, the bangs obscuring his vision often. His smile is radiating, so much so I can't help but smile as well. My mind catches up with me and I begin to wonder where he belongs. He is strong and charming, surely he is a Gryffindor. His peers all look towards him, the center of attention, perhaps he is a Slytherin. I know he isn't a Ravenclaw, having never met him before.

My mind puzzles it all out till an obvious piece fits in the middle. He is sitting at the Hufflepuff table. I flinch with confusion. No, I can't be paired with a Hufflepuff. It's not that I don't like them, I mean they are the house labeled strictly for their kindness. It would be almost a sin to despise them. No, the reason I'm appalled- not appalled, more bothered- is because I can't fathom the idea of my soulmate being a Hufflepuff. They are too nice, how could I have an argument with one without feeling like I kicked a puppy? I'm way too cynical to be paired with the embodiment of child's laughter. I am prone to bouts of anger, lashing out at others because I can. I don't see how at any point that him being there wouldn't make me feel like a, well, piece of shit.

As he is laughing at something his friends say he catches my eye, his smile faltering for a moment as he just stares. He looks at me like he is puzzling something out, tilting his head in a way that it reminds me of a golden retriever. I don't stick around long enough to see when he figures it out.

I hop from my seat, startling others as I grab my things. I shove a book under my arm, grabbing the half finished biscuit from my plate. I shove the pastry in my mouth before absconding like a scared idiot. I rush out the large double doors, into the hall where I find the direction towards the washroom.

As I turn the corner out of the main hall I hear the scuff of shoes. My heart throbs at the idea that it's him. I both wish for him to be chasing me and desire to find a crevice to hide in. I hear the patter of quickly approaching feet. I drop the biscuit from my mouth and book it down the hall.

"Wait," he calls out. My jaw ticks, his voice is like rich syrup. It soaks into my bones, feeling like a warm embrace. The already ramping heat feels like an inferno at the sound. I run faster.

I turn off another corner, prolonging the inevitable. I know at some point we would have to talk, touch. It's the only cure. Still, I wish for more time. I need to get my thoughts in order, figure out the best way to approach this. Never in a hundred years would I have thought my soulmate was the kindhearted Hufflepuff. I didn’t even consider it, that being on oversight I know now. I just need more time.

As I rush down the hall, shortly after my turn I hear shoes scuff again. He is fast, I'll give em that.

"Please, wait," he begs. Here we go, already I feel like I kicked a puppy. How could this ever work if I will always feel like garbage when I do anything against him.

"Leave me alone," I find myself screaming out. My body is already tired, overheated and weak. My pace begins to slow, his footsteps getting closer. I finally give up, stopping with a slow jog before I rest my hands on my knees. I catch my breath, the sweat soaking through my shirt.

I can smell him before I hear him, which is strange since I knew he was there. I worry for a moment that he is going to reach out and touch me, but he sits just in my peripheral near the opposite wall. He gives me a moment, which I am grateful for. I prolong the moment, just enough to get my thoughts in order. When its clear I have caught my breath I stand straight and glance towards him.

His wavy locks are plastered to his forehead, his shirt sticking to his chest. I can't help but drool a little at the sight. I expect to see an exasperated look, if not a disappointed one. On anyone else I'd even guess angry but who has ever seen an angry Hufflepuff and lived to tell the tale? Instead I see a very concerned, patient look. It stings my heart more than warms it.

"You alright," he asks. He rests against the wall, hands holding the windowsill. His chest looks broader, strong and appetizing. I can picture myself resting on that chest at night, his big arms holding me close as we rest. Even see myself pressing my hands to it as I ride him. Taking his cock while leaving red whelps with my nails. I can see the outline of his erection, my brain humming with the view. How easily I could discard his shorts and take him into my mouth. Be damned who can see, just slide him past my lips an-

"I can say it's a relief to know you didn't run because you found me repulsive," he chuckles. I startle from my thoughts, meeting his eyes quickly.

"Sorry," I mumble, my cheek red for more than one reason.

"All is well, I like looking at you too," he hums, looking me over. Nothing I wear is slutty by any means. A simple baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts, hardly scandalous. Yet, the way his chest bounces with his rapid inhales and his fingers clench the window I feel down right sexy. "You are very gorgeous," he grins.

"thank you," I bite my lip. His eyes dart to the action, licking his own in response.

"I wish to touch you but I have the impression that you aren't interested just yet," he shakes his head. He rubs his face, coming back to himself while I think of an answer.

"yea, sorry about that. It's just a lot to take in, you know," I grin sympathetically.

"I get that," he rests his head towards his shoulder," we never met before, it can be nerve racking. Though I can give you a bit of ease when I say I will not touch you without your expressive consent. I'd hate for our very first introduction to be so coerced."

"I appreciate that," I answer. There goes that sweet Hufflepuff style, nicest folks around. My brain feels too muddled to think about why this match wouldn’t work. I want nothing more than to jump his rod and lick the sweat dripping down his neck. Though I know more thought should be put into this. Right?

"So I have a question, feel free not to answer. Why did you run," he cuts straight to the point. I try to think of a lie, it felt like the right thing to do less I hurt his feelings. Yet my greatest tool is left sitting in a puddle of hormones, lavishing itself in the visual glory of this man.

"Why would anyone run from their supposed soulmate," I try to stall. Knowing he would be too optimistic to assume anything awful like being house-ist.

He hums, "I can think of a few. We both know its not the obvious, unattraction, so I can rule that out. So it could be because you aren't ready, which I can respect. A lot of my friends took some time when they found out theirs wasn't in the same house. It could be because we are stranger and you might have been hoping for someone else. Though I think I know the real answer, you don't like being paired with a Hufflepuff." He holds my stare with confidence, knowing he hit the nail on the head. I'm mildly impressed with his deduction skills. Though I'm not pleased with it.

"How do you figure," I cross my arms, leaning back into the cool wall.

He copies my pose," Well, we are good at observing, it's what makes us so good at finding things." I bite my cheek to not smile at the obvious joke. "but in all honesty its because I know Ravenclaws, you guys tend to be… prickly about things."

I gawk," Prickly?"

"Yea, you know what you know and you stick by it, even if you’re wrong. Like I know you are upset with us because you think I'm too nice," he answers," That I'd either not keep up with you mentally or I'd be too caring to want to argue. I feel I have to explain this every week but Hufflepuffs are nice to their core, doesn't mean it dictates their way of life. I will fight someone if they deserve it, though I still would be a helping hand if someone asks for one. I can debate and argue with the best of em but I still will check in afterwards to make sure everything is ok. I'm nice, not a nun."

I stare at him curious, too flabbergasted at his rather intelligent argument. I know every house has a thing that defines them but doesn't exclude other traits. A Gryffindor can be brave and shy. A Slytherin can be compassionate but firm. A Ravenclaw can be bad at school but still be dedicated to learning. If that’s all true and I know it, why do I consider Hufflepuffs to their labels? I want to believe him, I really do, but I can't see him being someone who can be anything other than a goody-twoshoes.

He notices my apprehension and starts another compelling argument. " to stay on theme how bout I tell you something that a good old Hufflepuff wouldn’t say? Like looking at you right now all I want to do is rip that shirt in half and lave your nipples with my tongue. Kiss down your body then pull your shorts off with my teeth before diving into your, more than likely, dripping cunt," as he speaks he steps closer," taste the divine wine of your slick while listening to your cries of pleasure. I know I can make you scream, no doubt in my mind." he rests his hands on either side of me, arching in a way that he can't accidentally brush me," I want your legs wrapped around my waist, my cock buried so far inside you that you could feel it for weeks. I want to hear the sound of my hips meeting yours, hear the sound of your breathy gasp and delirious groans. Then meet our mutual end with our shouts echoing through this hall, you clenched so tight around me as I bite your neck. Mhm, my cock throbs just thinking about it."

I gulp hard. This beautiful son of a bitch has done what no other has even come close to. He has left me speechless. I want all those things, I want his fingers leaving marks on my hips as he fucks me into delirium. I take a moment to even have a coherent thought that doesn't have the word cock in it.

I lick my lips as I meet his eyes," I-I think I can be the bigger person and say I may have been wrong about you.." I stutter on his name.

"Adam," he provides.

"Adam," I finish," perhaps you aren't the goody-twoshoes I thought you were."

"Well I do aim to please," he grins. I have the very strong urge to lick his teeth. I never even found that idea appealing till now.

"I'd imagine you could do more than please," I chuckle as I watch his tongue moisten his bottom lip.

"that I can, princess," I nearly melt at the pet name, "Now, do I need to give you more time or would this hallway be a fitting place to worship you?"

I giggle like an idiot," worship me, I like that. But no, I rather not have our first time be in a hallway if you don't mind."

"Not at all," he purrs," so, your place or mine?"

"Yours? I'd imagine having the kitchen so close by would be beneficiary after I'm done with you," I fight back the urge to reach out a hand.

"When you're finished with me? What do you plan to do you little minx," he growls. God, how are we even still standing here flirting?

"Guess you have to lead the way and find out, huh?"

"Sounds promising," he backs up," then onwards we go."

Our pace is quick as we rush down the halls. The urge to grab his hand is oddly strong. My insides feel like someone is setting jumper cables to my nerves. I feel like I have so much energy and my mind feels fuzzy. Glancing at him out the corner of my eyes doesn’t help the control to not pounce on him, viewers be damned.

"Adam, you found her," someone calls as we pass by.

"Yep, quite the looker ain't she," he shouts back. The other person just laughs.

We make it to his room in a blur. I can hardly remember much of journey but could hardly care as well. I stop near his bed as he stands a little ways from the door way. I look around at the neatly made room for just a second before meeting his dark predatory eyes. The sight sends a bolt down my spine.

"Why you standing by the door," I ask a bit worried. He just grins before coming closer.

"I want to relish the moment, forgive me," he stops inches away," you don't mind that our first touch would be with our lips? Call me a bit of a romantic but I like the idea of it."

"Not at all," I smile. He leans down and takes my lips for his own. The flood of arousal that drenches my senses is almost blinding. I reach out the same time he does, carding my fingers through his hair as his pull my hips close. Our kiss is messy and anything but romantic or tender. Its full of need that leaves spit all over our mouths. Our tongues meet and retreat as we cant figure out what we want more. His hands slip into my pants where he palms my ass, his nails digging in with a satisfied growl.

"Bed," I pant as I lead him over. We both fall onto the mattress, tongues still clashing and hands still wandering. We reach for each other's clothes in a impatient rush. We split just enough for the other to rip their shirts off. Besides then its hard to separate. Somehow we manage to get our pants off and grind against the other. Adam splits away as he fists himself. I suck, nibble, and lick at his neck. My nails scratch lightly at his back as if I'm trying to find purchase somewhere. I groan into his shoulder as his tip glides between my folds. He doesn't bother with anymore foreplay, knowing and feeling the evident need dripping on the head of his cock.

"You ready? it might be a tight fit," he strains to say. I just buck against him in answer. He chuckles before shoving in with a drawn out groan. My toes curl and air escapes me as he bottoms out. My nails leave crescent indents on his shoulder as he takes a piece of my neck into his mouth. Neither of us can allow this moment to prolong as we buck wildly into each other. He grunts and groans around my neck while I wail and moan near his ear. I cradle his head to me as I cry out my peak. Both of us knew we wouldn't last long, the days of pent up sexual frustration making it hard.

As I clench him his teeth bare down into my skin, his fingers gripping my hips. He pulls me in close as he buries himself deep, cumming in me with a satisfied groan.

After a short moment he lets go of my neck, leaving a single lick before resting his head on the mattress. I slowly relax back into the bed with a huff, not noticing when I held my breath. I find myself combing my fingers through his hair with great admiration. Orgasms in the past have left much to be desired, well besides the build up to said orgasm. The need to hold someone and be held was always there. The fulfillment I have now is beyond words.

"I think I already love you," Adam laughs.

"Shut up," I chuckle along with him.

He turns his head to bury his face in my hair," Nope, I must shower you in praises because you are purely and undoubtedly the most amazing person I have ever met."

"Yea, you ain't so bad yourself," I blush into his neck. I pull in a lungful of his scent, feeling my brain go fuzzy again.

"Prickly Ravenclaw," he grinds ours hips together. I gasp as the feel of his cock stroking my now sensitive walls

"Goody-twoshoes Hufflepuff," I buck into him. He kisses behind my ear before pulling the lobe between his teeth.

"Ready for round two," he asks as he sits up. I regard his flushed face with way more affection than I previously felt. I pet along his cheek before hiking my leg and pushing him aside. I feel him slip out as I straddle his waist. I catch a glimpse of his cock, feeling proud to take something so thick.

"Sure, but I'm on top this time," I smirk down at him. I rest a hand on his chest as I grab him and settle him back in. he seethes though his teeth but it ends in a chuckle.

"I do like a woman who takes charge," he grins brightly back up at me.

"Then I think this relationship will do just find," I answer as I slowly bounce on him.

His hands settle on my thighs," That it will."

We can't take our hands off each other for a great while and I was right…

Being near the kitchen does have its perks.

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Wasn’t going to post on this blog but I really don’t have anything for this weekend ready... so, here is a harry potter story i wrote that 100% indulgent.

which house are you? I’m the prickly Ravenclaw

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog

#harry potter #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #Enigma-IM #fluff #slytherin #gryffindor

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malethirsty · 4 years

Text

Polar Saviour: Sandy

Summary: When you trip up at a rally, a different type of hero steps up to help you, one that has opposing views, but sometimes, opposites attract & make a blasting connection.

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), bareback (Wrap Before You Tap!)

Attending an Anti Trump rally was something you’d never experienced before, but you were part of the generation that he and many like him was fucking over, so you had to do your part for a better world. So you threw on a ‘Why be racist, sexist, homophobic, when you could be quiet’ shirt, grabbed your homemade banner saying ‘Peach showers await Mr. Trump’ and made your way out to the streets.

As expected the place was packed as you marched down the streets of New York, chants alternating between ‘No Trump, No KKK, No Fascist USA’, ‘Lock Him Up’ and various other things like that. The reason you hadn’t gone to one of these before was because of the raucousness of the crowd & this was no exception, people were hustling and bustling about, and various people were being squashed around, including yourself. Not wanting to cut in front of people, you reluctantly stayed where you were as the crowd bustled forwards through the streets. Suddenly, you lost your footing and fell hard onto the pavement “Fuck!” You groaned, if you’ve ever fallen over, you’d know how rough and gut wrenching it is. “Shit man, are you ok?” Came a voice, you cautiously moved your head to see a man had departed from the crowd and had moved over to make sure you were alright “Yeah, leave me here for a bit and I’ll gather my strength” you said. The man laughed “I think people will think you’re dead if you stay stock still on the road.” “I guess so” you conceded “I’m gonna help you up alright?” He stooped down and pulled you up, “We’ll head to a cafe on the corner, I’ll check you out, make sure you haven’t hurt yourself.” You nodded, only half listening gazing at your savior, he had black skin, with darkly tinted brown eyes to match and a shaved frizzy hair style, he looked absolutely gorgeous, like a beautiful dream that had come to life.

You barely even noticed the change of place until he sat you down on a chair in an emptied out cafe and started to check you over. “I don’t think you’ve broken anything, there seems to be a bit of bruising though” You looked down and saw what he meant “It still stings but not as much as it did, thank you Mr.” you looked at the man hoping he would get the prompt “Sandy” he responded “Sandy, well I’m Y/N, thanks for helping me out.” “No problem Y/N.” The two of you placed orders and started small talk, you learnt he was steeped in political knowledge as he learnt about your journalism. “So I figured if I went, I’d have something to write about this week for my column.” “Yeah, ‘PROTESTERS: practice spacial awareness at events’ should be your headline” Sandy quipped back, leading you to laugh and grin, usually sarcastic comments would be retorted against, but something about his delivery worked so well.

“So why were you there? Something Trump tweeted about John Lewis? The ‘First Black President’ statement during Black History Month?” You asked, having had the ‘President’ blocked on Twitter for years on end “No, I’m actually a Republican.” Midway through your handful of chips, you choked. Sandy rushed over to hit you on the back, clearing your airways. “You keep running into trouble Y/N!” Sandy exclaimed “Yeah” you subtly said, if Sandy was a Republican, what was he doing at a Democratic event? You posed the question to him after he returned to his seat “Well whilst some of my views are Right Wing, like the right to own guns, I think my party and the world deserves better than Trump.” “Absolutely, but guns? When they contribute to massive deaths?” “So do knives but you don’t see people calling for a boycott.” Sandy responded “And it’s more complex than that, the amendment even if it could be changed, would take a while to pass by, rednecks could refuse to give their blessed weapons over, pandemonium potentially breaks out. I’m not saying anyone should be allowed to own a gun, but there are things people need to consider regarding our constitution.” As much as you wanted to stand very against his viewpoint, you knew he had points “I guess, cutting gun passage and starting proper screening processes could help minimize the amount of deaths in America, I get the whole defense thing, but it’s a shame that this country has turned into a place where Ultraviolence is an art form. Where sex is bad but violence is the new black.”

Sandy stared at you, taking it all in “I like how you debate your issues & how you didn’t storm off or make a big deal due to the side of politics I’m on.” “Well I probably would have tripped over my chair and hurt myself more.” You countered making him grin “And also when a big threat to our world is posed, people on opposing sides have to meet in the middle, or else the threat picks at our weaknesses and plays us against each other.” Sandy nodded “Very true. Geez, at least this went better than the last conversation I had about this.” “I hate to ask but what happened?” You grimaced slightly, worried about what it could have entailed “It was my ex girlfriend, Hannah her name was, she initially saw past my views and we had a decent relationship, and then it came back up because I didn’t like her essay and even when we broke up, she still wanted sex.” Your mouth dropped open, you felt bad for the poor guy, whilst being Right Wing wasn’t the best thing in the world, this Hannah sounded like a right piece of work “Shit Sandy, I’m sorry you had to go through that.” “And it always happens, people like her are like ‘Oh I’m in my 20s, I’m gonna move to New York, be a free spirit, date a black guy and go to a dangerous part of town.’” “It’s like they want to date black men because of the societal view of thugness or thrill that comes with it!” You exclaimed “You took the words right out of my mouth” Sandy quipped.

You soon finished your meal, and you reached for your wallet to pay “Nah Y/N, let me.” Sandy started “No Sandy, you’ve done enough for me today.” “Seriously, my treat.” He responded to you. You abandoned your attempt to get your wallet “Well I have to pay you back somehow.” “You don’t have to, unless you wanna go back to mine.” He subtly grinned your way, and you wondered was there a trace of a flirt in his grinned gaze? You decided to take the chance “Yes I will.” You said “Good. I thought you might.” Sandy responded. Having rested in the cafe for a while, you were able to stand on both feet and you followed Sandy past the crowds to his flat.

His flat seemed like any other that you’d come across, everything neatly arranged, his political books all stacked on a shelf & his bed tucked away in a corner. “Mind if I rest my leg up against the table so I can see how my bruise is doing?” Sandy nodded and having his ascent, you sat down and tentatively stretched your leg out, the black and blue colour now starting to stand out stronger than what it did “Oh that’s bloody great, people are gonna fucking notice that, it’s as clear as day.” “What if you stayed in with me?” Sandy offered “What would we do, streaming and cooking is great, but that can get tiring, no offense.” You quickly turned to see if Sandy was alright and found his face studying yours, much like how you did on the way up to the cafe “None taken, babe” and before you could react, he moved over & kissed you deep.

His lips felt so pleasant yet dominant, you moved further in, letting a moan fall out of your lips, making him laugh “And I haven’t even got your clothes off yet” “Well you better take it off then” you countered. Sandy proceeded to take off each garment “Fuck, you look real sexy when you’re naked man.” He exclaimed with a lustful tone in his voice. He lusciously stripped his shirt off for you, his sculpted pecs and four pack made you moan out in pleasure “Pants. Now” you got out as Sandy laughed and quickly disposed of his pants & underwear, his big cock flopping out. He moved your leg from table to lounge and moved his dick in front of your face “Suck my dick babe” he said softly & not wanting to waste another second, you lowered your head & began to suck. Sandy threw his head back breathing out an “Oh fuck!” you moved further down, tracing his veins. Louder groans filled the room as he grabbed your head and guided you “Oh fuck, you’ve got an amazing mouth, so fucking good!” He leant down and gave you a kiss “Fuck, I taste good on your mouth!”

"Sandy I want you to fuck me.” you got out. Sandy not wanting to prolong you, made his way to the other end of the couch & began to shove his cock in your ass “Oh-Oh Fuck!” You moaned out, "You alright? If it hurts too much I’ll stop.” You nodded at Sandy and he stopped so you could steady your breathing “Keep going” you told him and he finally bottomed out balls deep. “Guess it’s true, black men have big cocks.” You said, causing Sandy to laugh “Babe, if you think our cocks are big, wait till you see how we fuck.” He started a passionate fast pace fuck into you, moans filling the apartment. You ran your hands down Sandy’s chest & tweaked his sensitive nipples, making him cry out in pleasure “Yeah Y/N, keep going!” You continued whilst running your hands down his four pack, getting to grips with his defined muscles while Sandy continues to fuck you.

“You wanted this” he moans out “Yeah I fucking did.” You responded, the adoring pretty gaze you had given him on the streets was gone, replaced by a look of lust. “And now you’re getting it, such a good fucking slut!” “Yeah, I’m your fucking slut Sandy!” You responded, the dirty talk flowing naturally “Yeah, good sluts like you get rewards.” Sandy gripped your cock & began to stroke it in time with his pace “Fucking come for me, shoot all over me baby boy!” It felt so sudden, like your load had been brimming up this entire time, but you hadn’t noticed because of how good Sandy was fucking you. “OH SANDY!” You screamed aloud as you shot your load all over him “Oh fuck!” Sandy laughed out “You blew a lot! I must be fucking you real good then.” “Y-yes you are.” You breathed out “Well then, I better keep going.” And he thrust in harder than before, drawing another lust toned scream from you, you didn’t know how he could have gotten faster than before, but he did, despite that, you knew that even the strongest man has limits.

And this was proved right after a while, as Sandy’s pace got sloppier “Fuck, I’m gonna come!” He groaned “Yeah Sandy! Give me your cum!” You moaned out, riding him hard, meeting him with every beat. “You want me deep in you?” He groaned out “Yeah fill me up please!” You yelled out. Sandy continued go rut inside you, gazing deep as he did so “Fuck babe, I'm cumming, God I'm cumming! Oh Fuck!" He finally cried out as you felt his cock pulse, load upon load squirting inside you." "Y/N babe, that was fantastic!” He kissed you, you returning with the same amount of passion. You rested up against him “Fuck, you’re amazing!” Sandy grinned “Nice to know Y/N.” He picked you up and led you to his bed “Now, we have two weeks and a bunch of positions to do & this time I’m gonna show you the blacked the berry, the sweeter the juice. And by berry, I mean my balls” You grinned up at him “Bring. It. On.”

#Sandy #Male Reader #Sandy/Male Reader #Sandy Smut #Girls #GirlsHBO #Girls Smut #GirlsHBO Smut

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littlemisssquiggles · 5 years

Note

Okay but how about a rosegarden moment where our rosebuds are talking about their training sessions with their respective mentors, like, Oscar with General Ironwood and Ruby with Maria

Hey there Lethie. Thank you for once again reminding me that Maria still exists in RWBY V7 since at this point; I think the PLOT has forgotten her. Oh where, oh where has our little pocket abuelita gone? Oh where, oh where can she be?

Maybe she’ll make a small cameo in today’s new episode? It is going to be a long one---the longest for the season so far to be exact. But we shall see. In regards to your idea for a potential Rosegarden moment, I like it. I think it would be pretty cute for Ruby to hang out with Oscar after he’s all wrapped up with one of his training sessions with Ironwood. But rather than have her talk to him about training with Maria, what if...Ruby shares details with Oscar about her very first mission as a newly licensed huntress.

I think the CRWBY Writers have dropped Ruby resuming her Silver Eyed Warrior training with Maria for this volume in regards to her development.

So I like the concept of Ruby and Oscar meeting up at the end of their respective days to just talk to each other about how things have been going on their end. I think that could be pretty adorable to see if done canonically.

However given how the PLOT for V7 has been shaping up, I feel like we’re more likely to see Ruby and Oscar potentially butting heads on their differing views on keeping the whole truth from Ironwood.

In respect to RWBY V7CH5, what I think would be great is if we glimpsed a teaser taste of one of Ironwood’s training sessions with Oscar. Perhaps we might get a moment where Oscar is just wrapping up a session and in the end, James assures Oscar that he could always come to him and talk to him about anything after he notices that Oscar looked troubled during their time together and it was proving to be a distraction to him.

James’ assurance and welcoming nature only proves to further weigh on Oscar emotionally because what’s been troubling him mostly is Ruby’s choice to prolong holding the truth from the General especially when he’s been nothing but trusting with them.

Imagine if…after finishing up his training for the day, as Oscar is exitingthe training room, he bumps into Ruby who had come to find him. Let’s say…Ruby was about to head out on her first huntress mission and she wanted to show Oscar her license or at least see him---y’know just happy to catch one of her friends since everyone has been busy with their missions or something like that. However despite Ruby’s chipper attitude to see him, Oscar doesn’t reciprocate.

I like the theory about things being a bit tense right now between Ruby and Oscar. Right now I feel like Oscar is going to be the only one to really challenge Ruby on her stance about deceiving James and call her out on being exactly like Oz.

I’m especially curious as to what Oscar would say if Ruby were to repeat Qrow’s rationale about her being different from Oz because she’s choosing to only trust people she deems trustworthy. We’ve seen Oscar call Ruby out before and I feel like we’re likely to see that happen again.

Since CH5 is titled “Sparks”, I’m going to take a page from FNDM fam @moondrop04 and ponder whether we’ll see a call-back to the V5 Dojo moment with Oscar remembering what Oz told him regarding Ruby and her spark.

Shoutout again to RWBY Enthusiast @moondrop04 ---Moon shared an idea for a scene in which Ruby brings Oscar a slice of cake she had saved for him from CH4’s celebration ceremony. However during an argument with Ruby, Oscar drops the cake on the floor in anger.

I’m going to add my own spin on Moon’s idea since I really dug their theory.

For this squiggle meister--- I’m envisioning Oscar storming off on Ruby. Perhaps the two do get into a little squabble over Ruby choosing to prolong the truth from Ironwood while acting all nonchalant about it, much to the grievances of Oscar.

I have a feeling that Oscar might become very upset with Ruby for still choosing to lie to General especially regarding the bit about needing more proof that James could be trusted (despite all that he done for the team thus far) and the bit with what Qrow told Ruby (which, as I said in a previous response, is such hypocritical jibberish considering that Qrow is an exemplar of Oz’s putting his trust in others who he deemed trustworthy at the time).

So as Ruby continues to act all indifferent about the whole scenario, Oscar becomes very angry and storms off on her in a similar fashion as he did with Oz back during V4.

Ruby instantly feels bad for upsetting Oscar and immediately catches up to him, grabbing him by the arm before he can take another step further. With a trembling hand on Oscar’s wrist, Ruby steps closer to him. His back is turned the her the entire time but that doesn’t stop Ruby from getting close enough to rest her other hand on Oscar’s back in a more calming, peace-making gesture.

I’m now picturing Ruby adopting a different tone with Oscar. A more vulnerable tone that indicates to Oscar about Ruby’s internal frustration in shouldering the burden of the action she had made. Ruby appeals to Oscar to give her more time to figure out a better course of action.She understands that he’s upset with how she chose to handle things andconcerned for the outcome of that, however Ruby urges Oscar to give her moretime to work things through. To have a little bit more faith in her, I suppose. To trust her with what she’s doing.

It’s a line that makes Oscar recall the brief talk between him and Oz about Ruby back in Mistral. Particularly the part where Oz told him about Ruby’s spark. Rather than placing Ruby on a much higher pedestal than she’s already used to, Oscar’s response was a realization of how much responsibility Ruby must shoulder as a result of her spark and how much she is able to influence others with it.

“…This must be really hard on her too.”“It most certainly is.”

For me, I’ve always appreciated Oscar’s character a lot more for that line and all that he did for Ruby from the V5 dojo scene.

For me, it solidified how much different Oscar’s outlook on Ruby was going to be as opposed to other characters.

To me, it told me that Oscar doesn’t just recognize Ruby’s greatness and influence on others.

He also recognized that outside of that, she’s just a normal young girl no older than he is---no different than he was, with a huge badge of burden on her chest.

It was the moment Oscar realized he and Ruby were one and the same in a way. I’d like to think Oscar recognized Ruby’s vulnerability in that moment too; hence why he more or less encouraged her to be open with him about how she was truly feeling.

In that moment back in the dojo, Oscar allowed himself to be vulnerable to Ruby. He felt comfortable enough with her to tell her the truth about how he’s been feeling since he left home regarding the upcoming battle of Haven.

And Oscar opened up to Ruby because he was trying to get her to open up to him as well since he clearly acknowledged that she needed that sort of emotional confession given her change in demenour after she was reminded of Penny. And I liked how Oscar didn’t let up until Ruby was completely honest about her feelings.

He sort of commanded that she be straight with him especially since he saw how depressed she looked.

It’s probably not how Oz would’ve handled the situation but...it’s very Oscar in how he chose to approach it and it did the trick since it helped Ruby overall which was what mattered.

So I guess what I’m mostly getting at here is that I’d love for the PLOT to give another highlight into the growing “tension” between the Rosebuds since I honestly believe that Ruby and Oscar will be the drivers for this subplot involving the Deceit of Ironwood, the Revelation of the Truth and possibly the inevitable Return of Ozpin and his reconciliation with the team.

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, I believe Oscar is the key to Oz’s return and mending the strained bond with the ole Wizard and his team.

I feel like Oscar isn’t just going to be the key person to challenge Ruby on her views and stance with the General but also help her through it in his own Oscar-Pine way---just as he did back in the V5 Dojo Scene.

Similar to V6, I have a feeling that the whole truth will inevitably come out through Oscar’s intervention yet again and it’ll be done in a move that’ll result in the young farm boy turned little barn prince becoming better respected and more trusted amongst his peers for the “risky actions” he took to make it happen and the fix everything. That’s my take on it.

But regarding CH5, we’ll see how things go with that today. The most I’m hoping for is for Oscar to at least appear in today’s new episode. This chapter is nearly 20 mins long. I’ll be super bummed if we finally have our longest--probably most eventful episode of the season and Oscar is once again omitted from it. That’ll just suck. But again, that’s just my views on it.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

#lethiepie #squiggles answer: rwby #oscar pine #ruby rose #oscar and ruby #rwby rosegarden #rwby volume 7 theories #rwby theories

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omgviolette12 · 5 years

Text

After Hours- Chapter 10

Previous Chapter

Summary: Evelyn Monroe has been a TA for professor Laufeyson’s Calculus course for four months now. He was known to be quite strict, but that never deterred her from applying for the position in order to be close to the man she had been secretly pining for. One evening, she returns to his office after opening hours… and with her bountiful luck, she walks in on something not meant to be seen.

Chapters: 10?

Words: 2800+

Warnings: None

Tags: @milkymaidme @dangertoozmanykids101@alexakeyloveloki @little-moonbeam-666 @marvel-ous-fics@clovermariear@lynnesm@bitchyikes@moon-child-of-a-poet, @allthecraftandthings@bubblegumspitt @shockwavee @blondekel77 @nerd–nirvana @valdemarismynonbinarylove@nightrose64 @pastelhexmaniac @iistormii

If you’d like to be added, let me know. I’ve also posted this on AO3

____________

It took a moment for Evelyn to realize what was happening.

He had a detrimental effect on her, this man - the warmth of his tongue that explored her mouth, the harsh grip on her jaw, and the growing heat in her body left her dim-witted to her surroundings.

She had no choice but to reciprocate the kiss, until he willingly broke apart from her. As soon as he did, her hand automatically flew to cover his mouth in bewilderment and panic, adrenaline pumping her veins.

“What… what are you doing?! We’re in the blasted hallway!” She panted breathlessly, her wide hazel irises meeting the dark, lust blown ones of her lover. What was with him, popping in out of nowhere, and then kissing her randomly without so much as a hello?

Loki merely quirked a brow in reply, as her hand still obstructed him from speaking coherently.

Evelyn yelped when she felt his tongue lick the inside of her palm, the action catching her completely off-guard. She withdrew her hand from his mouth in a hurry, a dark blush making its way from her neck, and unto her cheeks.

He gave her a wicked, dark smile,“ I haven’t seen you in a while, so I thought a proper greeting was sufficient.”

Evelyn was flabbergasted. “A..greeting? That’s what that was?!” He had the gall to look at her as if she was the strange one, “Is a kiss no longer considered a greeting…?”

“No..I mean - yeah it is, but the way you just -” she paused, the amusement on his face apparent. It took a second for her to realize that he was just messing with her.

Evelyn sighed, her tone filled with indignance as she spoke once more, “What are you doing all the way here? I’m just so confused…”

Loki didn’t answer her immediately. Instead, he tilted his head to peer from their secluded corner, and into the hallway.

Seeing that it was still empty, he took hold of her hand and strolled into the hallway without warning.

He headed rapidly into the direction of the studios, and she struggled to keep up with his brisk pace.

When they finally reached the entrance, it was then that he decided to answer her question in a quiet voice, “I’ve only ever seen you within my classroom, or the confines of my office,” he looked at her, raising a hand to brush an errant curl away from her eye, “So naturally, I wanted to see you in your element. And what kept you away from my office for such a prolonged period of time.”

Evelyn felt herself heating up inexplicably. He came all the way from the science department, a good 10 minute walk, to visit her despite his hectic schedule. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to that sort of attention.

“Sorry for not letting you know what’s up with me, this whole thing is a lot to take in…”

Loki only shook his head, dismissing her apology, “ No need to worry yourself about it, darling. I simply missed your presence."

He stepped further inside the studios, his eyes wandering in search of her work area, "In any case, I'm genuinely curious about your craft. Care to show me?"

Evelyn froze. She thought he just wanted to see her, and not her actual work.

She wasn't usually shy when others saw her drawings or paintings, but Loki was a different story…

She worried he might be overly critical, or not care for her drawings at all. Evelyn valued opinions greatly, so showing him her work that was so personal left a vulnerable, uncomfortable feeling within herself.

Perhaps because of his ‘professor aura,’ he still intimidated her to a large degree.

“Uh...I wasn’t really expecting anyone, so it’s...really messy. Like, very messy. I don’t really paint much interesting things either, so...“

Evelyn tried to muster up some lame excuse, but she knew she had better stop when she was met with a firm, silent look.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, then traipsed nervously in the direction of her little studio as his tall figure loomed behind her.

Thankfully, it was a Thursday, which meant mostly everyone had no classes in her department - so the studios were empty with the exception of the few absorbed in catching up with work. In addition, each student studio consisted of cubicles with tall walls built to hang artwork, so they were mostly obstructed from view.

When they finally reached her studio, Evelyn stepped inside with slow steps, her nervousness extremely palpable by this point.

If Loki sensed it, he chose to ignore it as his attentions were immediately transfixed to the unstretched canvas strung up on the wall.

It was an exceptional rendering of a fantastical, imaginative landscape, with an endless sky and billowing clouds. Vibrant hues of pink, blue, purple and orange swirled across the sky, with the trees and shrubbery reflecting similar shades in their leaves.

Loki could still see it was unfinished, as most of the brown underpainting still shone through, but it captured him nonetheless.

He gathered from her other paintings and drawings that she liked landscapes and nature in general, since that subject matter was the most prevalent in her work. He could also see that most of them had a whimsical, fairy tale like twist to them.

Loki smiled to himself as he perused. He loved learning more things about his little Evelyn, it made her that much more precious.

While Loki silently observed and analyzed, Evelyn was brewing with negative energy behind him. His prolonged silence was slowly killing her inside - the anticipation of his distaste for her paintings now the only thing that occupied her brain.

She got tired of waiting eventually, and blurted out her thoughts, “ I... know I have a lot to improve on...the colors are too weird, right? It looks pretty bad right now, but I’m gonna -“

“Forgive me my dear, but sometimes you ramble on a bit too much,” he cut her off quickly, putting down a loose sketch he picked up from her work table with utmost care, “ You lack much needed confidence. Especially when you’re this talented.”

Loki turned to give her a look, a look that betrayed his most darkest thoughts.

“It would seem that we have to work on that together, don’t you agree?”

Evelyn had to hand it to him. His ability to change the energy in the room from normal to horny was unprecedented.

She coughed lightly, hoping to bring it back to normal, " I'm, I'm sorry - I guess that means you like it, then…?"

"If I didn't, I would have been blunt about it." He stated simply. Her lack of confidence was slowly starting to annoy him, and he couldn't wait to rectify it in private.

Speaking of that...Loki itched to get her well and truly alone. He told her that he would give her time, to let her decide when to take things further...but surely it wouldn't hurt to subtly push things in that direction.

" You may not know this, but I'm actually quite taken with the arts myself," he began casually, “You could say I’m a collector, of sorts. And I happen to be rather fond of your type of work.”

That garnered her attention immediately, “ Wait, really? What other artists do you like, whose art do you have?” Evelyn blurted excitedly, a wide smile on her face. She didn’t know he was an art nerd like herself, and was happy to know they had one more thing in common.

“Among the favorites I’ve collected, it would have to be Georgia O’Keeffe and Thomas Cole,” Evelyn’s mouth widened in disbelief as he continued on, “ I do have some Bob Ross pieces as well, but I wouldn’t say he was a favorite...a bit too kitsch for my taste.”

Evelyn couldn’t comprehend the gravity of what he just said. “You’re...you’re actually being serious? You have an original Thomas cole painting? He’s one of my biggest inspirations! And...and Bob Ross?! Georgia O’Keeffe? Are you sure you aren’t messing with me…?”

“I’m being entirely serious, darling.” Loki did have a rather extensive art collection, but he didn’t know this useless hobby of his would actually work in his favor.

“But...but they’re so expensive! Even reproductions cost a shit ton… and originals are like thousands of dollars!” Evelyn still expressed some doubt. It was too much of a coincidence for it to be actually true. Not to mention, that was an absurd amount of money to be splurging about.

But his car’s fancy as fuck… maybe he’s just rich?

While Evelyn’s face was scrunched up in thought, Loki’s smile took a diabolical turn when he started to speak once more, “ If you’re that doubtful, I’m not opposed to showing you my collection.” His next sentence came off as strangely dark, “And as for their price... when I want something, no amount of anything will stop me from getting it.”

Evelyn’s head immediately shot up, "Wait, you'd really show me…?" Her focus was zoned in on the first sentence, completely ignoring the lustful inclinations of the second, " I wouldn't want to trouble you…it's okay if it's too much of a hassle," Although she said that, her eyes were extremely hopeful.

"Nonsense, it's no trouble at all. Even if it somehow was, I care about your happiness much more."

Evelyn blushed at his words, "...If that's the case, then I'd really appreciate it! Ooh... I'm so excited! Is it okay if I take pictures?"

She was bouncing with radiant energy, her happiness infectious. If Loki had known seeing art would please her this much, he would've suggested it much sooner. He found her reactions to be unbearably cute, especially when her eyes grew wide in disbelief, or excitement.

"Of course, take however many you want. In fact...would you like to see it this Sunday, if your schedule allows? We will have dinner beforehand as well..."

"Yeah yeah yeah! This Sunday's perfect actually! Thank you!"

Without thinking much of it, Evelyn went straight to give him a tight hug in her excitement.

Loki did not expect that from her at all.

He was nearly knocked off balance as Evelyn’s warm body pressed against his. Loki could feel her ample breasts against his chest, the sensation of which aroused him greatly.

He’d never thought his body would react this way from such an innocent gesture on her part - but alas, he desired her to a frightening degree.

Loki cleared his throat and shifted in order to help alleviate the sudden discomfort in that area, but Evelyn took that as a sign that he wanted her to back away.

“Oh - I’m so sorry, I forgot where we were for a sec…” She thought he didn’t agree with the sudden display of affection - despite the fact that he kissed her himself moments before.

However, much to her surprise, Loki pulled her right back into his embrace, “ As long as we’re plainly out of sight, it wouldn’t hurt to sneak in a kiss or hug. I made sure of that earlier as well,”

His tone was very playful and reassuring, and she couldn't help but relax into the hug. She felt extremely paranoid earlier on due to the group chat, but that melted to the back of her mind. As long as they refrained from frisky activities in public, no more problems should arise.

Much to her chagrin, he decided to pull back after a while, placing a kiss on her temple, " Now that my curiosity's been sated, I fear that I have to return."

Evelyn's disappointment showed clearly on her face, but she understood that he had work to return to.

And with a few more parting words, he left her to return in time for his lecture.

Loki was immensely happy he took the risk to visit the art department today - if he didn't, he wouldn't have been able to make such progress in so little time.

Unbeknownst to Evelyn, Loki fully intended to make her truly his this coming Sunday.

His mind went completely rampant with sordid thoughts of what was to come - Her naked, ebony skin dripping with sweat, and the way she would writhe and moan beneath him. He'd be sure to cover her body with bruises as she's restrained by various -

Loki had to stop from going down that train of thought, reminding himself that she may not be reticent to his...darker desires. He'd have to be patient and slow since it would be her first time, but he looked forward to it nonetheless. Sunday couldn't come any sooner.

It was Sunday when it truly began to sink in for Evelyn that she agreed to go on an actual date with her professor-turned-lover.

She honestly only thought about just seeing the collection at first, but then she remembered the second part of his sentence about them having dinner beforehand…

Evelyn didn’t mind spending more time with him at all, it was just that she was extremely unprepared for it.

She barely went out of the house even on holiday break, with either her friends or Candice dragging her out from time to time since she was practically a hermit. In addition, it would actually be the first time she ever went on a date, so she was nervous about that as well.

Evelyn decided to go to Candice for advice once more. She was nervous about her reaction to her newfound relationship with Loki, given that they talked about his sexual escapades prior - but as an adult, she was sure Candice would...get over it.

“You waited THIS... goddamn LONG… to tell me you’ve been shackin' up with professor fine ass?!”

Candice smacked her arm,” Are you outta yo stupid ass mind?”

Evelyn rubbed her arm, eyes narrowing in agitation, “ I didn’t tell you because this is exactly how you’d react. Hittin me n’ shit! Ow…”

Candice tried to calm herself down, “ Look, I got a lot of shit to say about whatever y’all got going on, but it’s honestly not the time, and you’ll do whatever you want anyway,” she sighed, pacing up and down the living room floor, “ Do you even have shit to wear? Were your nails done? Is your hair done? Did you even wax ya coochie?”

Evelyn’s eyes widened, “ I...I gotta do all that? Even the waxing part?”

Candice closed her eyes, “Lord have mercy on me today - YES you fool! You’d really have that man navigate the Amazon jungle? Because I know for a fact you got a whole forest down there.”

Evelyn subconsciously covered her privates, “What! We’re not even doing anything like that...he’s just gonna take me to dinner and show me the art collection…” Evelyn’s voice grew quiet, because she wasn’t even sure herself.

“Well, better be safe than sorry. I’ll even wax it for you and help you get ready. When is he picking you up?”

Evelyn picked up her phone that was beside her on the couch. He texted her earlier that morning about the time, and the form of attire that was expected, “ Uhm, around 7 pm…”

Candice glanced at the time on the tv, “ So we got about 6 hours or so. Come come, get up. We’ll get the wax over with first.”

It was 6 hours later, and Evelyn felt thoroughly violated.

She honestly should’ve skipped the waxing, hairy pussy or not - it hurt like a bitch, and she solemnly vowed never to put herself through that again. Not only that, but she spent nearly 3 hours in Candice’s room to look for an appropriate outfit, one that was apparently nonexistent within her own wardrobe.

In the text, Loki said to just dress casually, so she was going to throw on any dress in her closet. Which worked to set Candice off on another tirade.

So now Evelyn sat on the couch, waiting for his arrival. She did have to hand it to Candice though - she actually liked the outfit she picked out.

It was a black floral bell-sleeved dress, with slits at the sides that exposed the skin of her waist. It had a modest V neckline, and she was grateful that Candice didn't choose a more daring outfit.

She also wore a jean jacket to ward off the spring chill, so she was extremely satisfied. The only discomfort was the dull throb from her nether regions…

Before long, a loud ping came from Evelyn's phone, causing both her and Candice to jump at the sudden sound, "Is it him? What does it say?"

Evelyn was annoyed when others looked over at her phone, so she hid her screen from view, "Can you please back up?!" Kissing her teeth, she looked back at the screen to see the message.

I've just arrived. I can't wait to see you, love.

She stared at the message for a long moment, before standing up on shaky legs.

Well...here goes nothing.

________________

A/N:

*crosses fingers for smut next chapter*

Thank you all once again for the comments, they seriously make my day. Blown away by the support!

Bonus picture : Evelyn's date fit, minus the jacket - https://imgur.com/a/xYHdHx5 Photo cred: kishmycurls

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