#for the one who hides his loneliness ( shipping. )
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and if I'm gonna be drunk, I might as well be drunk in love
You squint your eyes at the pink neon sign flickering against the fake moss tapestry to the left of the bar. A young couple poses in front of it, smiling at their mutual friend who holds the phone to take a picture. Beautiful, radiant, charming. All while you sit on the barstool, hunched over the half-empty cocktail that you swirl in your grip, relishing the condensation on the rim of the glass. With your straw, you stab at the maraschino cherry floating around in there, popping it into your mouth. The sweetness cuts through the bitter liquor, or loneliness, lingering on your tongue and you think that maybe tonight isn’t so bad, despite your sulking.
It's another happy hour, courtesy of your boss. Everyone on your team is here, who you genuinely get along with, no problem. But there’s one person missing, the one person you want to see the most. Nanami is the only one to decline tonight’s invitation to the new trendy bar downtown. During your lunch together, you don’t ask why. You don’t want him to suspect that you’re devastated by his decision, which you are. So, you talk about how much you’re craving cake instead, changing the topic all together, hoping he doesn’t catch the hint of sadness in your tone.
Ever since he walked you home in the rain the other week, protected under his umbrella, there’s been this obvious vibe between you. Still, it could all be wishful thinking on your end. You never did get around to confessing your true feelings for him; you’d rather enjoy what you have as it is. Why ruin something good? There’s the hope that maybe things could be even better if you take this leap of faith. But it’s always terrifying taking the plunge, isn’t it? Especially when you don’t know if you’ll sink or swim.
It was by the fourth cocktail that you decided to leave your group gathered around the back table. That’s why you’re here now, sulking between strangers at the bar, chewing on your tiny straw until it’s gnarled on one end. Your friends on the team know the real reason, trying to dismiss all the jokes from your more annoying coworkers about how you must be missing your “work husband”. Even they’re shipping the two of you together. If only you knew what Nanami truly thinks about all this. About you.
To your complete shock, it doesn’t take you long to find out. Still in his work attire, Nanami walks through the front door, hair swept beautifully as always. As soon as his eyes find yours, he smiles, making his way to you. It’s only when he approaches you that you notice a small box in his hands. “Good. You’re still here,” he says, smile growing wider.
You blink at him several times, as if you’re not seeing him clearly.
“Can you come with me? I have something for you.” His voice is trembling slightly, excited.
You nod, still rendered speechless, wobbly as you follow him outside. When you’re alone in front of the establishment, the voices of those inside muffled and distant, you stare down at your shoes, anticipating what’s about to happen. He holds the box out to you, opening the cover slowly, revealing a personalized cake decorated beautifully with your name written in neat frosting on the top.
You meet his gaze, putting your hand to your mouth, hiding a gasp. “Nanami.”
“I made this for you. Because of what we talked about today.” He swallows hard, taking a step towards to you. “I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now. I…” He trails off, nervous, scared, uncertain. Just like you.
This time, you follow through with what you’ve been wanting to do since that rainy night not too long ago. You close the distance, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Sparks fly and whatever buzz you have from the alcohol is replaced with this electricity. “Me too.”
Author's Note: A continuation of this. Yet another coworker!Nanami drabble inspired by a song that’s making me feel all sappy and soft. 🩶 Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
#nanami kento#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento fluff#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#kento nanami fluff#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami fluff#coworker!nanami#jjk fluff
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On Steve Rogers, loss, and loneliness
Unlike some of the other characters, Steve's hurt isn't as plain to the eye. His demeanour is usually one of stoicism and optimism, and it is easy to forget that his story is steeped in loss and loneliness.
Steve's introduction highlighted how alone he was - an orphan, armed with a list of ailments, and hiding behind a newspaper to avoid small chat with other recruits. When rejected by the recruitment centre, Steve shrugs and heads to watch a movie - alone.
Steve is a loner, we are shown, and then just as abruptly - perhaps just like the way it had happened many years ago - Bucky crashes into Steve's world and hooks an arm around his shoulders and noisily talks about an expo and dispels all of Steve's melancholic air. Steve is a loner, except for Bucky.
But Bucky is now leaving to go to war.
Steve is used to being stoic, because there were no adults around him to spoil him. He is used to being buoyant, because Sarah taught him how to pick himself up and carry on. Steve is used facing the empty house and lonely silence -- except for Bucky, who filled his room with chatter, "We can put the couch cushions on the floor, like when we were kids."
So when we hear the anxious strain in his voice as he is informed by Bucky that he is leaving -- it also becomes plain that Steve is also used to loss, or the threat of loss shadowing him, everyday.
In his short life, he has already lost so much. He has lost his health (my thought is he was probably healthier in his early childhood until he caught scarlet fever, and then his health got a lot worse after that). He has lost his father, and all the security of having a family breadwinner. He has lost his mother - to long hours of work and eventually to the disease she was battling against.
What he dreads would happen, does happen. Life seems to have a way of chasing him down like that. Sarah gets sick, and his fear of coming home to find her gone...one day inevitably comes true.
At his darkest moment, Bucky squeezes his shoulder and promises, "You don't have to do it (alone). I'm with you to the end of the line."
It's just enough for Steve to square his shoulders and push on, as Sarah had always taught him to do. Deep inside - possibly buried so deep that he can barely put it into words, he knows that he pulled through because "Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky."
I'm going to pause here and emphasise how deeply lonely (and young) Steve was, and how, naturally, the only stable presence — ie Bucky — in his life, through periods of terrible grief and uncertainty, is going to be such a deep-rooted emotional foundation for him (regardless of how you ship).
When the draft does come for Bucky, it's not just Bucky who's unhappy, it's Steve who's also aghast. Suddenly, the possibility of losing his last bastion looms over him, and he remembers the fear and anxiety and the devastating grief of losing Sarah. But it is also a war that needs fighting - so he comes up with a solution: sign himself up. He can't keep Bucky from the war, but he wants to fight alongside him. Besides Bucky, what else does he have to lose?
"Men are laying down their lives, I have no right to do any less. That's what you don't understand, Bucky."
He says this angrily, because the words he can't say aloud are, "You are laying down your life, Bucky, and I might never see you again, and I can't go through all that again, not by myself."
When he hears about the 107th being captured, he has to go. He is saving Bucky, sure, but he is also saving himself, because the pillar, the lifebuoy, the harness that has kept him afloat all those years is Bucky, and he's terrified of sinking.
The serum makes him taller and more women pause to smile at him, but he is still incredibly alone. He sits alone during break, he draws alone in his book, he runs off alone and none of the USO girls even notices until it's his turn on stage.
But Bucky notices him immediately, and says, "I thought you were smaller," and, "Did it hurt?"
Steve doesn't really believe in miracles. His whole life feels like one bad luck after another, even if he forces one foot in front of another and keeps marching on. But maybe at that moment, he feels like Bucky is his miracle. Bucky, who always seems to notice when he's alone and pulls him into his social circle. Bucky, who had seen him lose his dad and Sarah and promised him the end of the line. Bucky, who he - and all the commanders - thought was dead, pulls through and gives him another promise - that he would follow the little guy back into war.
When Steve is finally thrust into the frontline, the losses keeps mounting, man after man are falling, condolence letter after letter is being written. And then towards the end of 1944, the tides seem to finally turn. German forces are waning, the Allied forces are advancing, and quietly, secretly, Steve dreams of home.
And that dream dies with Bucky.
"Honour the dignity of his choice," he is told, but he can't shake off the guilt.
He pushes himself forward, step by dragging step. Nazi Germany is falling. He is taking down Hydra with his own hands…and at the end, he buries them all in the ocean with himself.
His is sinking, but he isn’t afraid, because he is going where all the people who mattered are waiting.
And he is denied even that.
He opens his eyes to a world he doesn’t recognise. They tell him they had won the war.
But no one wants to speak with him about what was lost.
A folder of old photos, the museum of unmoving murals, the silent movies of a smile he would never see again.
He thought he had lost all there was to lose, but somehow life always seem to find something else to take.
What we see of off-duty Steve in the modern world is once again a figure of loneliness. He goes to the gym alone, he goes for a ride on the train alone, he sits at the cafe alone, he goes for runs alone, he goes to the museum alone.
Only during those solitary moments he could truly be Steve Rogers, instead of trying to meet everyone's expectations of Captain America. He is just shy of 27 years old, but suddenly, he can no longer lay claim to youth. Only a dream ago he was "just a kid from Brooklyn", and now he's an "old-fashioned" (as per Coulson) "older fellow" (as per Tony).
He's in the history books, he's on the television, he's in the classrooms; everyone knows of Captain America, but Steve Rogers is lost.
He had been willing to lose his life on the Valkyrie, but what he lost was every living connection and his own identity.
"Must have freaked you out, coming home after the whole defrosting thing," the friendly man says to him on their first meeting, but Sam only knows half of it.
The too soft bed and the too quiet room is one thing, the unshakeable nightmares another, but the worst of it is -- this isn't home.
He is marooned in a place that bears eerie resemblance to the world he knew, without being familiar.
Until the moment Bucky's mask comes off.
It's like the anchor dropping. He's now got a connection tethering him to this strange place, someone with "shared experience" that means he is no longer alone, and he is no longer a ghost forgotten by the seventy years of lost time.
"He doesn't know you."
"He will."
He has to believe that Bucky will, because Bucky is proof that Steve Rogers exists.
And once again, Bucky is his miracle. On the brink of killing them both, Bucky reels back from his brainwashing and hauls them both to safety.
Even if Bucky leaves after that, he's left behind something Steve hasn't had for a long time -- hope, and belonging.
"Family, stability. The guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago," he says to Tony as he prepares to meet the ragged team of enhanced people that is to become the Avengers. "I'm home."
Stoic and buoyant as he has always been, Steve sets to work building that home for himself. Gradually, we see Steve open up. He forms new connections and new friendships, he talks about his vulnerabilities with people he trusts, and he reclaims his own identity. He looks for Bucky, and waits until Bucky is ready to build that home for himself.
Until it is once again blown apart by the end of Infinity War - he loses not just Bucky, the anchor to his past, but the new family he has made apart from Natasha.
That's why it makes sense that Steve, not Tony, is the one working so hard to reverse the Snap. His family was 5 years ago, Tony's family is now. The people who rallied behind Steve and not Captain America, the people who followed him after he dropped the shield, the people with whom he no longer needed to be endlessly lonely and tirelessly stoic and who loved him for who Steve Rogers was, they all vanished in the Snap.
So even if there was only a small hope, Steve wants them back.
And that's why his decision to leave everything he had built, the sacrifices he had made to bring them back, in order to go into a life of incredibly loneliness and deception is still the dumbest narrative faux pas in the MCU.
#steve rogers#steve rogers meta#bucky barnes#stucky#stucky meta#long post#this got away from me and is super long sorry#anti endgame#as always
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Obsessed!Coriolanus Snow x Innocent!Reader, Obsessed!Crassus Snow x Innocent!Reader, DILF!Crassus Snow
WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Cussing, obsession, smut, oral (f rec) , p in v, older man/younger woman, father & son both want the same girl, reader is just too sweet for this world and has no idea that the men in the Snow family are toxic...
This is the Crassus x Reader ending AKA ending 2.
It's kinda long.
Masterlist
Ending #2-Crassus
Coriolanus disappeared without a trace. Or at least that's what it felt like. Truth was, a couple of weeks after graduation he boarded a train to 8 as a peacekeeper grunt. Coriolanus received a conscription letter and was shoved off by his father General Crassus Snow.
Against his will.
Without Coriolanus by your side you fell into a depression. Yes, you received letters from him and the occasional phone call, but it wasn't the same. He wasn't physically around, like he's always been, and it hurt.
It hurt so much.
So goddamn much.
You felt so alone…
You thought that you were doing good job of hiding your hurt, your depression and loneliness. But you weren't.
No.
Crassus noticed it right away.
And he tried to swoop in and put a smile on your face by asking about your day or by suggesting you read a certain book in the library, but it never worked. Nothing worked to put a smile on your face.
The only time a faint smile appeared on your face was whenever Crassus handed you a letter from his son while shifting thru the mail after coming home from work. You'd always snatch it from him with a smile on your face. One that never quite reached your eyes.
You cherished Coryo's letters. He always complained about District 8 in them, but he’d also write a few lines about his feelings towards you. Always told you to wait for him; that he'd figure out a way to return to you.
Crassus, as cold and unfeeling of a man as he was, never kept his son's letters from you despite the fact that the middle-aged man wanted you as his next wife. His future First Lady. And why didn't he keep them from you?
Because he wanted to woo you away from his son’s affections. Crassus wanted the knowledge that he pursued you, courted you, and gave you somebody to confide in all the while Coriolanus was sending you letters that were borderline love letters.
Crassus wants you to pick him over his son, not because he made you, but because you want to.
Because you want him.
And having Coriolanus thousands of miles away serving in 8 would definitely help out with you picking the older Snow…
Out of sight, out of mind as they say.
“Petal, a letter for you from my son.” Crassus announces, holding the letter up for you to see as he stands in front of the fireplace shifting thru mail while you sit on the sofa watching CapitolTV.
Grandma'am was out visiting the neighbor, Pluribus, so it was just you and Crassus inside of the penthouse.
“Oh, thank you.” You thinly smile, rising from the sofa to go get your letter from the tall, stoic man that you've come to appreciate since you began living in the Snow's ancestral home.
Crassus knew that now was his chance to snatch you away from his bratty son. That now's the time to woo you. And how does he know?
By the thin, forced line of a smile on your face and the tight tone of your voice when you thank him for his son's letter.
“Y/N, I see how much you're suffering. Perhaps you'd like to talk about it with someone who's been deployed throughout Panem?” Crassus remarked, his voice low and thoughtful as he hands you over the letter.
“I'm fine, Crassus.” You lie, fingers brushing while taking the letter from him. “I don't need to talk about Coryo's deployment in 8, but thank you for the offer.” You assure the man towering over you while looking at the letter you're holding.
“You're not fine, petal.” Crassus tells you in a low, deep, all knowing tone.
It's unsettling since Coriolanus had told you the exact same thing one night before he was shipped off. He told you that you weren't fine; in a similar tone and manner that his father had just used on you right now.
You never noticed it before, but were Coriolanus and Crassus truly mirror images of each other?
“You haven't filled out your University admissions packet, so I surmise that you won't be attending. I also noticed how you sulk around, wasting your life waiting for a ghost.”
The packet was still untouched on his mahogany desk in his study. It was due weeks ago. Now that it's early September and the fall semester's starting soon, well, Crassus knows that it's too late for you to select a major of interest to study. That you won't be attending the University.
That doesn't bother him. In fact, Crassus prefers for you to be home with Grandma'am all day. You're a very beautiful Capitolite girl and in his mind you're better suited as a socialite. He's sure in time you'll get used to staying home and doing lady things all day such as luncheons, shopping, tea parties, etc.
“I-” You began, but your protest died on the tip of your tongue when Crassus cut you off with a blunt, “You can deny it all you want, but you fill your days moping over my son's absence.”
Of course, he saw right thru your facade. Crassus was a very perceptive man, a cunning one as well. He picked up on things that most people would overlook.
“You need to find a hobby to occupy your time; keep your thoughts off of things.” Crassus tells you knowingly. As if he has first hand experience in the matter.
Well, maybe he did.
“A hobby?”
“Yes.” He nods. “My mother has her rose garden; my late wife had her silly little songs and the piano.” The tall platinum blonde explains. He shifts his weight slightly on his feet while suggesting, “So perhaps you can find something as well.”
“Perhaps.” You parrot.
Maybe Crassus is right? Maybe a hobby will help you during Coryo's absence.
Crassus pecks you on the cheek before patting it and telling you, “Go on and read your letter. I'll be in my study reading my own mail.”
Without another word he walked away from you and into the direction of his office, a pile of mail in his hands.
You decided to take Crassus' advice and find a hobby to take your mind off of Coryo's deployment. After thinking about it, you realize that Crassus is right. You need to focus your energy on something else and since you're not in the best mindset to go to University (going to University was Coriolanus' dream; he wanted you to attend with him) a hobby is necessary.
At first you try your hand at gardening. You spent some time with Grandma’am in her rooftop rose garden, but you weren't a natural green thumb like she was. In fact, gardening seems to frustrate you.
Coriolanus was the botanist that thrived under Grandma'am Snow’s gardening lessons. Well, he did when he was still living in the Corso penthouse before he was conscripted into the Peacekeepers.
Anyways….
And since you weren't classically trained on the piano like Crassus' late wife, Demeter, you had only two other options for a hobby. Sewing or baking.
You weren't too handy with needlework and didn't want to bother Tigris with sewing lessons, because you knew that she'd start talking about Coryo. You couldn't handle that. The kind hearted young lady always meant well when she brought up Coryo, but it was a sore topic for you.
So, that left baking as your only hobby option.
But you had an old recipe book of your mother's from her native 12, so at least you had something to work with. You didn't have to bake blind without recipes.
Most of the recipes were for cookies. A couple for cakes, but mostly various cookies. Oh and bread. Lots and lots of bread.
Apparently, District 12 really loves their bread.
And on top of reading your cookbook you've been watching a baking show:
The Great Panem Bake Off
It's a baking competition where the best amateur bakers in all of Panem compete for a title and prize money. You began watching it for baking ideas and ended up writing down the recipes of the goodies that the judges liked.
After a few weeks of reading your mother's old recipe book and watching the baking show on CapitolTV, you decided to bake a batch of classic and simple sugar cookies.
So, one late afternoon while Grandma'am was tending to her magnificent rooftop rose garden you're in the kitchen hard at work baking a large batch of lemon zest and vanilla bean sugar cookies. Thankfully, living in Capitol City, Panem, you're able to procure the ingredients easily for your cookies.
You're so engrossed in making your cookie dough and baking off the tasty treats that your mind doesn't even focus on the missing member of the Snow family. Not once does Coriolanus cross your mind. No, the only thing crossing your mind is measuring out the ingredients and adding them to the bowl; mixing until firm and smooth. You're too busy letting the cookie dough chill and timing it to think about sulking over your best friend.
And when it's time to roll out the sugar cookie dough and cut the cookies out with a cutter, well, you can't even imagine thinking about anything but getting the cookies stamped out and onto the cookie sheet pan. A sheet pan lined with parchment to keep the cookies from burning and sticking (a tip you saw on the baking show).
You're so scared that if you leave the kitchen your batch of cookies will burn, despite having a timer set. So, you sit at the kitchen table reading a book that Crassus had recommended a few weeks back; waiting for the cookies to bake. Between the mouth watering aroma of fresh cookies filling the air and the intriguing plot line of the book you're reading, you're mind's too preoccupied to drift off to a melancholy about Coriolanus being gone.
Infact, it seems that Crassus was right about a hobby keeping your mind busy and off of things you can't change.
His son serving as Private Snow over in 8.
When the timer goes off you put on your floral printed oven mitts, which match your frilly apron, and pull the cookie sheet out of the oven. After setting the pan on the counter, you transfer the sweet treats to a cooling rack before rolling and cutting out another batch of cookies to place onto the sheet pan and back into the oven.
You’re sitting at the kitchen table, reading your book while waiting for the cookies to bake whenever you heard the front door open accompanied by the sound of Crassus' shoes echoing against the marble floor.
Crassus was home and all you could think of was getting his opinion on your cookies. Being a first time baker, you're afraid that they wouldn't be good. Even tho you followed the recipe religiously and everything seemed to turn out, you're still scared that your first foray into baking won't be successful.
So, you set your book down on the table, quickly rise to your feet, and grab a cookie from the cooling rack that's on the counter.
When you rush out of the kitchen, freshly baked cookie in hand, you see Crassus is starting to cross the foyer. He stops when he sees you, nose sniffing at the air, as his icy blue eyes take in the excited smile on your face.
From the smell wafting from the kitchen paired with the frilly floral apron you're wearing, the general concludes that you've taken up baking. He thinks it's good that you found something to occupy your days with.
Crassus is a tall man, even taller than his son, so he towers over you as you stand before him. Before he could make a comment on your new hobby, you grab him by the shirt and yank him down to your eye level- only to shove a freshly baked sugar cookie into his mouth.
“How is it? Do I need to tweek anything?” You ask, watching Crassus try not to choke on a large mouthful of cookie.
The middle-aged man’s large hand comes up to his mouth to pull the cookie out while he chews on the piece that's nearly choking him. You look at him with such innocence and patience while awaiting his verdict on your first attempt at baking cookies. Oh, and how your doe eyes has Crassus' knees buckling.
The cold, hard former soldier can't help, but to feel like a schoolboy again as you watch him chew his large mouthful. Oh, how embarrassing to feel like that over a young pretty girl shoving a sugar cookie into his mouth and looking at him like an angel sent from the heavens while awaiting his judgment on the sweet treat.
For some reason, swallowing down the cookie takes more effort than it should. Perhaps Crassus' throat feels tighter, as if it's closing up on him, because of the near intimate position you're in. Your face is mere inches away from his as he's hunched down into your space with your hand still tightly fisted into his shirt; keeping him in place.
Oh gods, how the man's mind is drifting off to dirty places…
“It's good.” Crassus finally answers after what feels like an eternity, but in reality was only a minute.
“You really think so?” You ask, genuinely surprised, as the icy eyed man in front of you just stares at you as if you hung the moon and stars.
A look he hasn't given anyone in a very, very long time.
“Yes,” He nods. “It's very good, petal.”
You're so happy that Crassus likes your cookie; that your first attempt at baking as your new hobby was successful. Honestly, you were scared that they wouldn't turn out. But it seems that you had nothing to worry about.
Without saying a word, you let go of Crassus' shirt and rush back into the kitchen to check on your latest batch of cookies. Crassus just shakes his head, clutching his briefcase his one hand and his half eaten cookie in the other, as a ghost of a smile slowly appears on his lips.
It seems like your innocence and warmth might be melting the cold Snow.
After the day you shoved a cookie into Crassus' mouth; nearly choking him, he's become your official taste tester for anything that you bake. He doesn't mind, in fact Crassus enjoys your baking. He has quite the sweet tooth even if he denies it.
Grandma'am enjoys when you bake chocolate treats and even Tigris enjoys your baking. She prefers your puddings. The warm hearted girl stops by from time to time to visit Grandma’am and you always give her some baked goods to take home.
All in all, your depression has dissipated and your mind's occupied with baking. You don't feel a heavy dark rain cloud over your head anymore, but instead you feel as if the sun’s shining down on you. You feel so much lighter, as if a weight has been taken off your shoulders.
And over the last few months you've grown closer to Crassus due to your baking. You looked forward to greeting him every evening when he came home with something you baked, asking him to taste it and tell you what he thought. And Crassus would always tell you that your sweet treats were good, great even.
That man loves everything you give him. From cookies to brownies to puddings to cakes to breads, he enjoys them all. Hell, he even has you pack some up for his coworkers at the Ministry of War.
Yes, cold and stern General Crassus Snow brought in baked goods to work to share with his coworkers. Honestly, he did it to brag about your baking skills. To show you off. To claim you as his in a way because women just don't bake for any man, they bake for their man.
And Crassus Snow views himself as your man.
He's been obsessed with making you his for a while; now he's succeeding in doing so.
But you don't mind his obsessive tendencies towards you. In fact, you welcome them because at least you're not lonely with him around.
And talk about being lonely, you found out from Crassus that his son, Coryo, was anything but lonely while off serving in District 8. His contacts told him that Coriolanus had taken up with a local district girl; had been with her for a while too.
Hearing that made you feel incredibly stupid for promising Coriolanus that you'd wait for him. Here you are being true blue to him while Private Snow's out fucking some district whore from 8. You wonder what she has that you don't have. Is she prettier than you? Maybe she's smarter or something? You dunno, but it hurts that he's cheating while you're waiting faithfully for him.
Aside from being hurt, you're pissed as hell. How dare he do this to you! Who the hell does he think he is? You're a proper Capitolite girl, you deserve better than what he's giving you.
Safe to say, you're a bit salty about Coryo's extra curricular activities in District 8 while serving as Private Snow in the Peacekeepers. Fucking bastard…
But at least you have your baking to help you thru it. Baking and Crassus' friendship that is.
But one day while you're baking cookies for the Yule holiday, the phone rings and you answer it only to be met with the one man you really don't want to talk to right now.
Coryo.
He tells you about some Elite Officer's Exam he took and you confronted him about his district whore. He denied it; even told you he loved you and wanted you to join him in 2 as soon as he got settled there- after passing his exams and officially being transferred that is.
And if that wasn't enough to turn your world upside down, a breaking news alert appeared on CapitolTV that would shatter Panem's heart.
It's late at night and Grandma'am’s asleep in her room while you're in the living room watching an old detective noir movie with Crassus. You're on the sofa, body softly nestled into Crassus’ side while his arm’s loosely slung around you, whenever the movie was interrupted by a news break announcing the death of President Ravenstill due to his ill health.
You're shocked to say the least. The very least. A president dying in office without a successor had never happened before in Panem's history. Normally, a president would step down if deathly ill or eldery; an election would be held to name a successor and the incumbent would pass over the baton.
President Ravenstill’s death turned the system upside down and on its head. So much so, that you ask the middle-aged man your sitting on the couch with what's going to happen to Panem now that the president’s dead. The platinum blonde man explained that the Senate would rule Panem with the help of the ministries and the late President Ravenstill’s cabinet.
Crassus also surprised you by announcing that he’s going to enter his name has a presidential candidate under the Old Guard political party. He also made a remark about how when he wins you'll be baking in the grand kitchen of the Presidential Palace. That you'll even be giving the palace bakers some of your recipes.
Everything feels so surreal; your entire day feels like a dream. A winter’s dream that can't be real, but in fact it's real. It's very real.
And to top off your day; mark the night as unbelievable, Crassus placed a hand on your chin only to tip your head to the side and capture your lips with a kiss.
A firm, but passionate kiss that caught you completely off guard.
You weren't expecting him to kiss you, but it only took a few seconds before your brain and body got on the same page and you're responding to his kiss. Your hands wrap around his neck as your lips press together. One of his hands goes to your hip while the other tangles in your hair.
You let out a breathy moan at the feel of his tongue sweeping along your bottom lip; asking silent permission to deepen the kiss. Permission that you granted by slightly parting your mouth just enough for Crassus to slide his tongue inside.
Your kiss with Crassus felt different then all the kisses you shared with Coryo- his son. Coryo's kisses always felt so needy and rushed, but with Crassus they're passionate albeit languid. It's as if the middle-aged man has all the time in the world to explore your mouth with his deeply impassioned kisses; to savor your reaction to his tongue tangling with yours, flicking against your bottom lip teasingly.
The way Crassus' lips firmly sweep over yours over and over again sparks a flaming heat inside of you. A need appears unlike anything you've ever felt before and, unable to stop yourself, you're slightly rolling your hips against him in an attempt to ease the growing ache in your core. And when Crassus breaks the kiss so the two of you can get some much need air into your lungs, you're looking at him wit lust in your doe-eyes.
Crassus can't help, but to flip you onto your back and smirk while slotting himself between your legs that have spread open on their own accord. He runs his knuckles along your cheek, only to hold your hip in his other hand. Crassus’ grip on your hip his strong, but sensual, as his other hand trails down your neck. Your chest heaves up and down as you look up at him, pupils blown wide.
“You feel what you do to me, petal?” Crassus asks, his voice low and thick, as he grinds his large cock, that's straining painfully in his pants, against your aching core.
The action has you soaking your panties. Just the feel of his bulge makes you ache, makes your pussy wetter then it already is. His cock, although trapped in the confines of his slacks, feel so large and heavy against your heated core.
“Crassus, please…” You moan needily.
"Shhh,” Crassus brings a finger up to your lips to shush you. “don’t make a noise, baby.” He dips his head down so his breath is fanning your face and his hand that's on your hip slides under your skirt, his fingertips teasingly sliding up and down your thigh. “We dont want mother to wake up now, would you?" Crassus rhetorically asks, nipping at a sweet spot right below your ear.
“We're really doing this here?” You ask, voice no more than a whisper, against his finger that was still resting against your lips.
Crassus trails his finger down your lower lip, that's bruised from his kisses, over your chin, and down the collum of your neck while telling huskily answering you with a low, “Yes.”
His lips captures yours in another searing kiss, one that shows off his years of experience, as his finger turns into his palm grasping at your breast. You moan into the kiss, your hands burying into his hair and your hips canting up slightly as Crassus toys with the wet patch right in the middle of your panties.
He pulls back from the kiss, only to slyly smirk. “I’m gonna prep you real good for my cock, baby.” Crassus scooted down the length of the couch until his head’s between your spread legs.
Legs that are shaking.
Crassus swiftly bunches your skirt up past your hips before curling his forefingers into the elestatic of your panties. “Lift your hips up for me, petal.” He orders in a low tone that's fire and ice to your ears.
Nodding, you do as you're told- resulting in Crassus pulling your panties off and licking a stripe up your wet cunt. He eases a long finger into your tight pussy while giving your clit a few kitten licks, causing you to wither from his touch.
Crassus' icy eyes hold your gaze as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit expertly. You feel your cheeks grow hot, but you can't make yourself pull your gaze away from his. It's as if his light cerulean eyes have you under a spell. A spell you just can't find it in yourself to break.
Crassus pulls his lips away from your clit with a wet pop. With his eyes still on you, he says, “You're so tight, baby. I'm gonna add another finger, just let me know if it hurts.”, before slipping his middle finger inside of you alongside his pointer finger.
“I'm okay, Crassus. Please, keep going.” You told him, placing a hand in his platinum hair to encourage him to continue eating you out.
“As you wish, petal.” He tells you before going back to teasing your cunt with his skilled tongue while pumping his fingers in and out of your wet, tight hole.
Your breath hitches and you bite back a moan whenever you feel his fingertips curl up against the spongy spot hidden deep inside of you. He grins against your cunt at your reaction to his ministrations.
“Think you can handle a third finger?” Crassus asked, even tho he was planning on squeezing his ring finger into your dripping cunt no matter what your answer is.
He's a very blessed man when it comes to the size of his cock. He's large, both in length and girth, so he wants to stretch you out with his fingers as much as possible. Plus, the feeling of your tight cunt clenching around his fingers is sending all of his blood straight to his hard rock; making it even harder than he thought possible.
“I can handle it, Crassus.” You answer, chest heaving and voice wispy, as you feel a knot tightening in your lower belly.
Crassus wraps his lips around your clit, sucking hard, while stuffing you full with three of his long fingers. His ego was soaring as he heard your tiny, strangled moans mixed with the gushing sound your wet cunt made as he fingered you fast and hard while sucking and nipping at your clit. He groaned into your cunt as he felt your hands tightly holding his hair while shoving his face deeper into your cunt.
“Crassus, I'm close.” You tell him, bucking your hips in an attempt to find relief to the feelings quaking inside of you from the feelings of the middle-aged man's skilled fingers stretching you and his tongue swirling around your puffy clit.
Your thighs are shaking around Crassus' head, but he doesn't care. No, not when you're so close to cumming. Hell, he could die with his head crushed by your thighs and he'd die a happy man with your sweet tangy taste on his tongue.
His fingers curl against your g-spot just right at the same time his teeth graze against your clit, sending you over the edge. You cum with a silent scream, bucking your hips wildly.
It was unlike anything you ever felt in your life. You swear, you're seeing stars as you cum.
Crassus groans and laps up everything that you give him. You're messily dripping and all he can do is eagerly lick you clean. Oh, how your taste drives him wild.
He backs away from your cunt, only to look you in the eye while sucking your taste off of his fingers. “Sweetest thing I've ever tasted, baby.” Crassus smirks, his low tone oozing lust. And it has your cheeks flushing and your pussy growing wet- again.
Crassus quickly unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants down to his thighs. Your eyes widen as you see the large bulge pressing against his boxers, thanks to the glowing light the TV was casting in the room. You quickly realize, before he even pulls down his boxers, that Crassus’ dick is bigger than Coriolanus’. And that fact makes you both nervous and excited.
Crassus knows that once he enters your cunt he's a goner, that he'll most likely lose control. He's so pent up since his career at the Ministry of War along with his side job as an arms dealer; overlooking his assets in 13 doesn't leave him much time in his schedule to go out and fuck somebody. The gods know that he's always busy doing something.
But between his obsession with you and having your pussy in his grasp, well, he's sure that he's not sleeping a wink tonight. And neither are you.
“Sling your leg over the back of the couch, petal.” Crassus orders while pulling down his boxers; setting his very long and thick cock free to slap up against his stomach. A stomach that's still covered by his shirt. “I need your legs spread wide, as wide as possible, for me.”
“Okay.” You nod, adjusting your legs to spread wide in the way that he wanted them.
“Relax, baby, I'll take good care of you.” Uttered Crassus before pushing his cock into your wet cunt.
You bite your lip and claw at his muscular back as you feel his cock splitting you in two. Yes, you're not a virgin and had a big cock fucking you for a week back in late July/early August, but being stretched by Crassus' cock had you feeling like you're losing your virginity all over again. Clearly, your hole had tightened up after months of not being fucked- resulting in the uncomfortable feeling you're experiencing as the handsome man hovering above you pushes his fat dick into you at a steady pace.
Crassus knows your not a virgin since he didn't meet the resistance of your barrier, so he quickly realizes that you're so painfully tight because you haven't been properly fuck in a long time. Hell, he doubts you've been properly fucked at all considering the last man you most likely fucked wasn't a real man at all, but a green schoolboy.
“You can take it, baby. You took my fingers so well, I know you can take all of my cock?” Crassus praises and encourages you while sinking deeper and deeper into your tight cunt.
And when he's finally balls deep inside of your tight cunt, which is literally stretched to the max, his icy eyes roll to the back of his head and he lets out a tiny grunt.
Crassus gives you a couple of minutes to accommodate his size before he's pumping his cock in and out of your pussy at a steady, but deep pace. One of his hands is on your hip while the other’s resting on the thigh of your leg that's strewn over the back of the sofa. Your arms are wrapped around him, hands on his back, as you feel the veins of his cock gliding against your inner walls as he fucks into you- making you mewl.
“Remember, we can't be too loud.” Crassus reminds you, his deep voice a whisper that sending butterflies fluttering deep inside your belly.
“I’m n-not being t-too loud.” You protest, falling over your words and trying not to moan as you feel Crassus' cock hit your g-spot.
Your nails dig into his back and he triumphantly smirks. Oh, yes, you're enjoying this as much, if not more, then he is.
“Keep it that way and I'll reward you by letting you scream on top of your lungs when I fuck you in my room within the next half hour.” Crassus tells you, his husky voice dripping with dominance, as he fucks into you even harder.
You can't believe your ears. Crassus wants to fuck you again- tonight! And in his bed!
Something about that revelation does something to you; has you cumming around his cock while choking back a moan that wants to bubble out.
The feel of your tight cunt clenching around his cock along with the feeling of you creaming it triggers off Crassus' orgasm. He cums, painting your walls white with his seed, while kissing your lips feverishly to keep himself from moaning and grunting too loudly.
Fucking Crassus Snow wasn't just a one time thing. In fact, it was something that occured regularly between the two of you. So much so that you took to sleeping in his bed instead of in your own room.
You doubt that Grandma'am knew what was going on between you and her son. She never brought it up; never gave you odd looks either. In fact, she seems to smile every time she sees Crassus peck you on the cheek before taking off to do something, greeting you, or sending you on your way.
Plus, as time went on, Grandma'am seemed too occupied with Crassus' campaign for the presidency to pick up on anything happening in the penthouse. Whether that be lingering interactions between you and her son or your own building anxiety.
And of course Crassus was too busy with both his campaign and his work at the Ministry of War to notice you growing more anxious. Or at least that's what you thought.
But Crassus is a very observant man and he truly does notice your anxiety. He just thinks it's due to his campaign; that you're nervous about how he'll do in the primary election that's being held in a handful of months to determine the two presidential candidates that’ll go head to head in the main election for the presidency come November.
He has no idea why you're truly anxious.
Coriolanus isn't Private Snow anymore, but he's now Elite Officer Snow since he passed his exams, or at least Crassus told you that's what he heard from his contact. Crassus also told you that his son's most likely going to bring his district whore with him whenever he transfers to 2.
So, of course you're anxious about what to do when it comes to Coryo. Especially since all calls and letters from the younger Snow have ceased. You can't help, but wonder if he truly does want you to join him or if he really did bring a district whore with him.
A district whore he denied having in the first place.
And then there's the subject of Crassus, your lover and Coriolanus' father. You can't help, but wonder if fucking you’s just something he does to relieve stress since you're around. He's so busy with his career and politics that he rarely spends time with you, unless it's in his bedroom.
Yes, yes, he still taste tests your baking, but know he's having you bake for his campaign workers and volunteers that it feels like he's just testing what you bake to make sure that it's edible for his entourage. It doesn't feel like he's genuinely eating your baked goods anymore.
Unlike Coryo, Crassus has never once told you that he loves you. Hasn't even told you that he cares. At least Coryo claims to love you. If Crassus truly felt something for you, wouldn't he vocalize it?
You go on worrying yourself with so many thoughts of Coryo and Crassus until one day you finally receive a letter in the mail from the younger Snow. Crassus gives it to you, like he always does, before pecking you on the cheek and going to his office to do some paperwork for his campaign.
You read Coryo’s letter, only to discover that he's living at the Nut in 2 and wants you to join him. Enclosed in the letter’s a train ticket to District 2- dated for the following morning.
That letter has you reeling as you shove it along with the ticket back into the envelope. You place the letter on the desk in your room, a room you never use anymore.
You're weighing the words you read in the letter as you lay in bed, waiting for Crassus to join you. But when he finally does come to bed, he makes you forget all about the letter. At least he does for a little while as his body's on top of yours, fucking into your tight cunt with fervent vigor.
But as you're basking in the afterglow of your fucking with Crassus, you can't help, but to wonder what the two of you are. And the nagging question has you asking, “What are we? Do you even love me? Or am I just a stress reliever for you?", as you lay pressed into Crassus' side with your hand on his chest.
Your question starles Crassus. He blinks his pale blue eyes and the hand that's resting on your shoulder starts to rub soothing circles into it. He thought that you already knew what the two of you are, but now he knows he thought wrong. Looking down at you, he gives you the honest answer of, “You're not a stress reliever for me, petal. You're so much more than that. You're my second chance of a woman's love; you're my obsession, baby.”
Right there and then his answer soothes the worry in your soul and you decide to stay with him.
Crassus, not one for being overly affectionate since he is, after all a stern man by nature, decides to move past his love confession by changing the subject with, “Well, petal, I did promise to let you be in control of round 2 if I made a noise first.” With a smirk, he takes a hold of your hips and starts to guide you to straddle his waist while remarking, "We better get you on top, huh?”
And as you ride Crassus all thoughts of that letter and the train ticket disappear forever. It's just a piece of junkmail that you'll throw in the trash come morning.
Crassus, not one for giving up control, gives you the illusion that you're in control as he lets you ride in, but in fact stays in complete control of you by guiding your hips at the speed he wants you to go. He even pulls off his dog tags (he's never once taken them off because once a soldier, always a soldier) and puts them over your head; letting you wear them as you ride him. It's a way of marking you as his, having you wear his dog tags while fucking.
And when he grabs them, only to pull you down for a kiss, he nearly loses his mind whenever you tell him, “You're a good boy, Crassus.”, with your lips ghosting against his as you bounce up and down on his cock with ease.
Your words make him realize that you have a dom side; that you're a switch since you always let him be the dom in bed. It does something to him, makes his cock get impossibly harder, knowing that you can be dominant when you want. That you can say words of praise that sound filthy flowing from your lips in a tone that's a bit more sultry and masterful.
All of those sudden revelations had Crassus losing control. And suddenly, he's telling you, “Oh, I'll show you how good of a boy I can be.”, while bucking up into you at an unyielding and brutal pace causing you both to moan and grunt until you cum together.
You threw the letter containing the ticket to District 2 in the trash. You never told Crassus about it either. You didn't feel the need to since you picked him.
Coriolanus waited for you at the train station all day, only for you to stand him up. That made him angry. He was insulted that you didn't listen to him; that you most likely told his father about the plans for you to move to 2- that his father must've stopped you. Hell, Coriolanus felt like an idiot waiting for you only for you to stand him up.
As he walked home alone, Elite Officer Snow realized that his father had won. That General Crassus Snow had taken you from him.
He also thinks that you're a dumb bitch for not listening to him whenever he warned you about his father having a thing for you.
And a few months later, in October before the presidential elections are held, First Lieutenant Coriolanus Snow is invited to his father General Crassus Snow's wedding.
To your wedding.
Coriolanus didn't want to go, but went only because it'd look bad for his Air Force career if he snubbed his father's wedding. All of his superiors thought that General Crassus Snow, the war hero of the rebellion, was one of the best military minds on the planet. So, he was stuck going.
Coriolanus brought his wife, a pretty little thing from the districts, with him. He has her on his arm, all dolled up in a cerulean blue dress. Her hair's up in some simple updo so you notice the faint scars on her back, from where they pop out from her dress, right away.
And that's when you knew you made the right choice in picking Crassus. You remember that Coriolanus once told you a story about how he turned a girl in for thievery and helped her leave the town square once her punishment, a whipping, was done. You remember he told you that story when you confronted him about seeing somebody in District 8. But now you know that First Lieutenant Snow was using his charm to lie to you; that he really did cheat on you.
You suppose that he pulled some strings and sent for his district girl once you failed to show up at the train station in 2. You're glad that he's not alone, that he has his district whore- as Crassus refers to the girl as.
You got stuck sharing one dance with Coriolanus, being his new stepmother and all, and he let you know how he felt about you being Mrs. Crassus Snow during your waltz.
“It should've been me marrying you, not my father, Y/N.” Coriolanus told you, his face a mask of indifference as his baby blue eyes blazed with anger. “I can't believe you let him seduce you; steal you away from me.”
Narrowing your eyes at the man that used to be your best friend, you explain your situation with, “Crassus never seduced me or stole me from you, Coriolanus. We became friends while I was dealing with your absence and one thing led to another.”
“He'll never love you the way that I do, my darling rose.”
“Don't talk to me about loving me, Coriolanus. Not when you're married to some district girl.”
“My wife might be district but at least she's loyal to me, is grateful for everything that I've done for her- unlike you who jumped into bed with my own goddamn father.” Coriolanus darkly hissed before storming off, ending your dance and leaving you on the dance floor.
Crassus just raised a brow and asked you what happened once you left the dance floor and returned to his side at the table on the dias- high up on display in the ballroom since you're the newlyweds.
You just told him that you had Coriolanus didn't approve of each other's spouses and that he stormed off after trying to make his wife seem like a better woman than you. Crassus laughed and told you not to pay too much attention to his bratty son. That he's always been full of piss and vinegar when he couldn't get his way.
Crassus won the presidential election by a landslide. One of the first things he did was intergrade District 13 back into Panem. And since the former sovereign nation was a great source of income for Crassus due to his nuke factories there, District 13 was put on a pedestal. They had rights similar to those in the Capitol while the other 12 districts still had to participate in the games.
Yes, your husband kept the Hunger Games. You think it's because they're so popular, but the truth his your husband finds the way his drunken class project blossomed into a spectacle that the Capitolites adore fascinating. Plus, Crassus was a cold, stern man that was a military genius. The president saw the merits of keeping the districts under control by using the games as a lifelong punishment.
At least your husband did improve some of the living and working conditions in the Districts. He told you that that people needed a little bit of hope to keep from rebelings, but also a firm hand to guide them and keep them in line. Crassus said it was all checks and balances.
And when Dr. Gaul approached President Crassus Snow with an amendment that would have all children born in the districts, including ones born on PK Bases, be legal district citizens and registered for the games, well, your husband approved it.
You wondered how your brother felt about that. If he ever married his girl in 12, where he was serving as an officer in the peacekeepers, or if he had a family. You'd never know those answers since he disowned you after receiving your wedding invite. He was pissed about the situation, said some nasty things, and literally disowned you.
You never thought about Coriolanus and his wife, whether or not they had children. Why would you? Coriolanus never wrote, never had anything to do with you or Crassus being his ego was bruised by your wedding.
Talk about children, Crassus had given you three beautiful children. Two sons and a daughter. Javani, Xanthos, and Mara.
Javani was the oldest and he, to your surprise, favored your late father in looks and temperment. Or at least Crassus told you he did. In fact, your husband always chuckles that the only thing Javani got from him is his platinum hair while everything else is from your family's genes.
Xanthos and Mara are Snows inside and out, from dawn to dusk, tho.
And when Javani is 18 he's selected to be a mentor for the Hunger Games since he's a very intelligent young man and is in the top 24 of his class. But what made his mentorship memorial and unusual was that, by a twist of fate, his assigned tribute was his nephew.
Yes, Javani Snow’s tribute was Cassian Snow, from District 2. Cassian's the first born child of Major Coriolanus Snow and his wife, a district woman you never bothered to learn the name of.
And, it's sad to say, after seeing Coriolanus' son get reaped and assigned to Javani as his tribute to mentor, you know in your heart of hearts that you made the right decision in staying with Crassus; marrying him and becoming First Lady Snow. Because your children are safe from the games.
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I disagree when people say there is no romantic subtext in itafushi because, I do think there is. I also disagree when people say there is too little [of romance] to base itafushi on it because that's really not true.
It starts with Megumi saying his type is someone with an unwavering humanity. Which is the very literal meaning of Yuuji's name. It slowly develops from there.
I also don't like how people say itafushi is one sided. IT'S NOT. He cares too much. Fushiguro is always the first one he notices in any room he's in. Even in the time he was hiding his death, he would mention Fushiguro now and then. Fushiguro just doesn't leave his mind, never did. He thinks he's very reliable, he SPECIFICALLY told Sukuna to not say anything to HIM about the fingers-resonance thing in the aftermath of the bridge fight. And the scene at the lake, where Megumi told Yuuji he'd kill him if he died, he defintely took it in a serious way, not just because he said "I better not die then" right after, but like, he even referenced that to Megumi in Shibuya. As a way of reasurance. As a way to say "I won't die on you, I will come back to you." Also thanks Mappa for making this even more gayer with the finger guns thing.
Hell, he even knows Megumi's favorite popcorn flavor and he teached him how to make meatballs. They barely knew each other for a few weeks??? And he was so overly excited to learn he'd be his closest roommate. Sure, you can say he's joyful with anyone and he is indeed, but towards Megumi, it's so much more intense. And yeeessss that could be because they are best friends alright but you can't deny it can work both ways, can you?
Since I touched in the best friends topic, I will quickly say how much it bothers me people refuse to ship two guys because they are two guys the same holds true when it's two girls but I'm mostly talking about a m/m ship. I saw someone yesterday talking about itakugi being endgame and like, sure there was some disapproval, but not as aggressive as it would be if it was an Itafushi post. Because when it's about itafushi, they easily jump on you saying "ThEY arE bEST FrIeNDds, CaN't tWo gUyS bE fRIeNDs anyMoRE??!?!? tHIs is jUst fRIendSHiP sTOpInG mAkInG iT gAy/wOkE!" well, it's funny because these exact people would immediately ship a guy and a gal even though there's so much little going on between them (take Ozawa as an example, sure she is cute and all but people saying they have more chemistry than itafushi is just... lack of literacy, like wtf???? how come a girl that appeared in ONE chapter and then NEVER AGAIN god knows if she is still alive - possible have more chemistry than two guys who went through good and bad shit together since chap 1?). But if it's a m/m, then it's a immediate no-no...? This is not about chemistry, friendship or whatever, there is a very clear name to this, the instict to immediately shut down the idea of two guys or girls together in a romantic way. You know very well what is called, don't you?
Anyway, back to Itafushi.
In the whole Shinjuku fight he's been thinking about Megumi, he went through possible ideas and plans TO SAVE Megumi. He's willing to become Sukuna's host AGAIN to save Megumi. Of course they (including Yuuji) need to defeat Sukuna, stop the Merge and save the world blah blah blah, but until so far, the core of his actions is moved by one objective: to save Megumi.
In post Shibuya he felt so conflicted about whether or not he had the right to live, and when Megumi asked Yuuji to save him, Yuuji's eyes shined again with life. They were devoid of any light until then.
Megumi means so much, so much to Yuuji, he treasures him too much. Way too much!! He would feel lonely without him.
And I don't care the way the translators chose to word this, we can safely assume that to Yuuji, Megumi's absence means loneliness. He would feel a void in his heart (I, the person writting this, am telling this in a romantic way, but you can assume that as platonically too if you like) without him. Megumi MATTERS to Yuuji, and Yuuji MATTERS to Megumi. Hell, Megumi even puts him in the same level of importance as Tsumiki, his sister, the only family he had the whole life. I'm not even gonna dive into the topic of "megumi wanted yuji to marry tsumiki" bc i think that is pure nonsense. plus she's dead. meaning they would never marry anyway.
In conclusion I think there is a lot of room for romance to flourish between these two, it might not be now, it might not be the objective of the whole work (because in the end it's a shonen, so yeah), but it's defintely not weird to think about. Love is a central theme since JJK 0.
Unfortunately people on twitter are mega stupid and I had the unpleasure to see a lot of hate towards itafushi because we apparently are in the wrong for thinking about two guys kissing no matter how much gay chap 266 was. And apparently we are in the wrong for taking Megumi and Yuuji's exchanged to a romantic level even though that shit was gay af (i personally don't talk like that to my best friends but okaaay whatever right) Which prompted me to come to another space (hopefully away from those ppl) to deposit my thoughts.
#i am just ranting and rambling to myself#please don't mind me and its ok if you don't agree#jjk 266#itafushi#fushiita#itadori yuuji#fushiguro megumi
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FORGOTTEN PROMISE
SUMMARY: you made a promise to Blade before you disappeared from his life forever. It's been a long time and you've long forgotten the past along with the promise you made — but not Blade. (Blade x f!reader)
WC: 1.6k
WARNINGS: asphyxia, rough Blade, blood, disemboweled bodies, a little bit angst, wip
AUTHOR'S NOTE: my first drabble (idk) that I crashed more than once, omg. enjoy reading, mates.
you carefully stepped over the lifeless body of an unknown cloud knight lying in the way. the salty metallic smell of blood hung in the air, and several viscous purple puddles covered the floor underfoot. a terrible picture opened before your eyes: heads and cut throats brutally smashed against cargo containers, broken limbs and gradually appearing on the bodies of cadaverous miasma with a characteristic putrid, sweet smell. despite the fact that there were countless corpses disfigured by the blade around, you did not feel the same nausea that appeared from the heavy stench of death. being a long-lived woman who has lived for decades, you have seen many soldiers loyal to the xianzhou alliance who have passed away: you saw them before the fatal battle with confident smiles on their faces and heard how the soldiers were escorted to the accompaniment of bitter female sobs and enthusiastic whistles from the excited crowd before they faced, after the defeat of mara, the curse of a long life continuing their existence in immortal, mindless bodies. the truth that I didn't want to accept.
moving with quiet steps along a suspiciously neatly laid out row of corpses, you occasionally looked back, as if mesmerized, staring at the bloody footprints left by shoes. but what you were worried about right now was not cleaning the damaged shoes, but something else — it was too quiet. despite your loneliness, it was as if you were naked, defenseless and vulnerable to something unknown. In front of something invisible and shapeless, which will overtake and sink sharp claws into the back at any moment. a golden ginkgo leaf landed on the toe of the shoe, slowly spinning in a gust of wind: withered, with barely noticeable cuts. here, one did not need to have psychic abilities and have the matrix of prescience ultima to understand whose handiwork it was. who left behind a mountain of mercilessly slaughtered bodies, as if hinting at his presence very close.
"no job was worth it..." you muttered out loud in fright, gradually retreating back on legs stiff with fear to the cherished exit. a few steps and finally a safe zone will appear. in the distance, the armor of the cloud knights who had arrived for the patrol could be heard ringing, which were clearly concerned about the sudden loss of a dozen of their comrades.
it was necessary to get out of lofu xianzhou as soon as possible, before he noticed you, learned of your presence on the ship. you'll have to hide your tracks, confuse your pursuer and get lost somewhere in the depths of space for the next few decades until everything settles down and your existence is remembered. it's like you were never born. should you inform the IPC that you are in danger and at gunpoint with one of the most wanted criminals? you reached into your pocket, trying to find your phone there. suddenly you bumped into someone with your back, hitting someone else's chest weakly.
"oh, I'm sorry! I..." you turned around to apologize to the unknown, but then froze in place. the fear that had bound the muscles began to spread deeper into the body, like roots breaking through the soil. your insides felt like they were twisting into a knot, and a viscous lump was coming up to my throat, blocking the oxygen. your heart was pounding somewhere in my temples, and the noise in my ears did not stop. Blade was standing behind him. he was exactly as you remembered him, and clearly had no intention of just saying hello after years of silence.
to run. inside, everything screamed that it was necessary to get away from him as soon as possible, while there was still no opportunity. you practically took off in the opposite direction, but someone else's hands gripped your shoulders tightly, pinning you with force against a nearby cargo container. you screamed softly when you hit the metal wall, closing your eyes reflexively. an unpleasant pain spread through my body, tingling in my suddenly numb muscles. you felt BLADE put his finger to your lips, telling you to be silent.
"really, I'm going to die like this," you thought in a panic, dreaming of falling into the ground without feeling pain. at any moment, you could lose your life if you just moved once more and gave a reason to the hunter right in front of you. but there was no feeling of the cold metal of the blade on the skin, no suffocating grip, only silence between them and the occasional footsteps of excited knights. it was only when you decided to open your eyes that you came face to face with your death. Blade was still gripping your shoulder tightly with one hand, pinning you back against the wall and glaring at you with displeasure. no, not just dissatisfied: in the scarlet eyes burned all shades of malice and hatred, which seemed to burn through your body.
"Blade..." before you could finish, you shrank back into the cargo container behind him when he abruptly pressed a bandaged palm to your lips. the cloud knights were very close, passing by a couple of containers nearby.
"you haven't changed a bit. even now, being on the verge of death, you can't close your mouth," Blade suddenly whispered with a hint of irony in his voice, grinning. after a couple of minutes, other people's voices gradually subsided, and now you are left alone, in the middle of a pile of decomposing knight corpses.
lowering his hand, he grabbed your chin and slightly lifted your head up, examining the familiar, refined features of a face stretched out from fright. it was as if he was making sure that he had caught the right person. a satisfied grin appeared on his lips, after which everything inside shrank again. after all, you got to know each other from the very beginning, it's just that everyone took this fact in their own way.
"it's been a long time since we've seen each other..." he drawled, putting his hand on your neck. unlike the monotonous voice, his skin was hot, as if burning, leaving an indelible mark near the throbbing artery. "hoping to get away from me by wandering around the universe in a panic? this overly idiotic arrogance suits you."
you were about to object when suddenly strong hands closed tightly around your neck, pressing on the artery. he watched with sadistic pleasure as you floundered in his arms in fright, desperately trying to save your own life: clinging to your palms with sharp nails, scratching bandages and glove fabric; trying to get your foot into the man's stomach so that he would have mercy. coughing and wheezing, you continued to try to push Blade away and take a breath of air, but the man remained steadfast.
"you made me a promise. however, you continue to pretend that nothing is happening," Blade said this time without malice, loosening his grip for a split second. it was not difficult for a hunter to end your life at any moment by making one simple move. but there was clearly an unknown reason why he was just harassing you to nip your will in the bud.
"i... don't understand..." you tried to say when the desired drop of oxygen entered your lungs. he was mocking. he was definitely enjoying what was happening, reducing the intake of air each time, listening to the quiet wheezing. that's exactly what you were thinking when your weakened legs suddenly lifted a couple of centimeters off the ground.
"really?" sarcasm was clearly audible in the chilling voice. Blade seemed to doubt the truth of the words. "have your memories become clouded in so many years? what a pity. i can help you remember."
the pressure on his neck increased, and the picture in front of his eyes began to float, drowning in mixed shades. Blade's silhouette became so blurred that it was barely possible to recognize his facial features. your legs were sluggishly beating against the metal wall, as if it was the last hope to reach his tormentor and escape from the suffocating embrace.
suddenly, everything stopped. you fell to your knees, convulsively inhaling as much air as possible into your lungs while tears involuntarily flowed down your cheeks. not out of happiness or resentment, they just appeared by themselves. Blade spared you.
"you know, i've changed my mind," he said, squatting down next to you. the man was not worried that you would decide to take off and try to escape from him again. In such a state, you would hardly be able to stand on your own, let alone run. "after all, centenarians have so much time to enjoy all the delights of life.… so during this period of time, you will definitely remember everything."
you stared at him blankly, trying to focus and ignore the annoying dizziness, but all attempts were in vain. the cyanotic bruises from the long fingers on his neck hurt, and it was completely unpleasant to touch them. Blade picked up your supple body and threw it over his shoulder, heading in the opposite direction from the escape exit.
"where... are we..." you asked almost in a whisper. your head felt heavy, it seemed like an unaffordable weight along with the rest of your body, your eyes were sticking together, and my mouth felt like a desert. you were about to lose consciousness after a few minutes of suffocation.
"what do you think?" obviously, it was a rhetorical question. you slowly closed your eyes, finally resigned to your fate, no longer able to keep your mind in mind. the last thing you could hear was Blade's satisfied grunt and a hand on your waist.
"to a place where you will remember and fulfill your promise to me. whether you want it or not."
#hsr#hsr x reader#hsr x you#hsr x y/n#hsr x female reader#hsr blade#blade x reader#blade x you#blade x y/n#blade x female reader#blade honkai#honkai star rail#drabble#wip#honkai sr#female reader#y/n#x reader#fyp
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I was thinking about what my favorite cdrama OTP is for 2024 and - rather surprisingly even to myself - it is Fan Xian x Lin Wan’er from Joy of Life 2.
Now, JOL2 is my favorite cdrama of 2024 so far and it will take a sizable miracle to dislodge it in the coming three months, so perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising that my n1 OTP is what it is.
Except the thing is, JOL2 is not a romance centric drama at all. This is a year with some glorious romantic cdramas (The Legend of Shenli alone is what my dreams are made of.) JOL2, however, is not primarily or even secondarily a romance. In fact, Fan Xian does not even reunite with Wan’er eps and eps into this season.
So why?
I think it’s a twofold thing - one is when I love characters and narrative, their emotional entanglements, all of them - become more vivid and important. Fan Xian is in my Top 3 cdrama leads of all time (!!) so of course I am just generally more invested in his emotional life. But the other, bigger thing is that I just love what this ship does and has.
Wan’er is Fan Xian’s peace in the maelstrom, the person with whom that busy mind can rest. I keep thinking about that scene in her carriage where in the middle of plots and counterplots and countercounterplots you just see him stop and just relax. It makes me think of a quote from Busman’s Honeymoon which probably sums up my fave ship dynamic - it’s what Lord Peter says to Harriet: “you are my corner. I’ve come to hide.”
And I love how crucial she is to him. This is a man who can and has taken on royals and martial legends, who is able and willing to change the world. And yet he is trembling and utterly undone when he thinks he lost her love (in the aftermath of the truth about her brother coming out), he is stripped bare of defenses - or perhaps not because to be stripped of defenses would imply he ever had them against her and he never has. There is something so heady about how someone so self-sufficient needs her and how someone so competent is lost without her.
And then there is Wan’er. I have seen so much criticism of her - she is not a martial genius like Haitang Duo Duo, not a schemer like Eldest Princess, not a budding genius doctor like Ruo Ruo. But I think that is why I love her - because she does not have power (martial or political or genius) but what she has is steadiness and love and warmth. She also shares an understanding of loneliness with Fan Xian because for very different reasons they stood aside from life at a remove like looking through a thick window for a very long time. In the narrative they both escape that glass and join the world for good or ill - he is the reason for that freedom for her and she is a catalyst for his (though eventually there are many more reasons for him not to be removed - once you step out of the glass cage you can’t go back in, you acquire attachments.)
But also - she is just steady. In the world where people rarely say what they mean and mean what they say, where alliances shift and bonds are uncertain, she is one of the few people who puts him first and close to the only one who is always exactly what she is with him.
I think of that scene of her and Wuzhu. Where here is the one who killed her beloved brother and he’s weak enough that she can actually avenge him (that is the only opportunity and she knows it - Wuzhu is grandmaster level and she has no power) and yet - she does not on the off chance Fan Xian may need his help on the mission he’s on. She does not know if Fan Xian will need help. She does not know if Wuzhu would be able to get there to provide it. And yet the possibility of the possibility of protecting her husband is enough for her to forego her revenge in any meaningful fashion because much as she mourns her brother, much as she wants vengeance, she wants Fan Xian safe and protected more.
Fan Xian, for all his glib manner and fast talking, for all his devil may care attitude cares an awful lot about the people he sees as his. He has an enormous capacity for love (which I think is what ironically keeping him safe with the emperor; emperor knows he has so many levers he can pull to get Fan Xian back in line if he needs to.) And with Wan’er, Fan Xian has found someone who would care just as much for him back and I find it glorious.
I guess it turned into a shipper manifesto, huh.
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i just finished watching season 3 of house. eric foreman is the best and most underrated character and i will not be taking questions on this.
like yeah, im a huge Big Three (house, wilson, cuddy) fan too, and the shipping aspect is obviously going to be the biggest thing people talk about (it’s tumblr) but if we can look beyond shipping for like one millisecond foreman is such an interesting character and i don’t see anyone talk about him!!!!! he’s an analytical ‘straight man,’ he’s friendly and desires human connection yet pushes people away the moment they start to get close. he doesn’t outwardly care about what people think yet still craves to be the best because if he’s not the smartest person in the room he’s worthless.
he’s morally grey. he’s pinned between his strong sense of justice and his desire for cold scientific problem solving. he’s primarily ethical yet not afraid to prioritize himself over others, even if callously. he has principles. he’s horrified at the side of his personality house brings out in him. he has a complicated relationship with religion and his family. he has imposter syndrome due to racism and classism in the medical community. he has internalized so many biases and when they show, it’s not pretty. he spends 3 seasons simultaneously loathing house and envying him. cameron wants to fix him, chase wants to be him, wilson (and cuddy) want to fuck him, but foreman? he wants to study this man like a lab rat. and possibly strangle him. he’s the ideological bridge between cameron’s ethics and chase’s fuck-all attitude. he tries so hard to be a healthy functioning adult and in many respects he succeeds but he will always be haunted by his chronic loneliness and inferiority complex (one which he hides well with his ego.) he’s just like house and he hates it. he’s a vindictive jerk, but he’s a really good person at heart. he tries very hard to be, anyways. and he’s the only one of his colleagues who actually took the initiative to stop enabling house and just quit. the others will bitch and moan about it but he was the one who actually prioritized his mental health over remaining psychologically obsessed with him. (will that last? no idea, i know he comes back later but shh. spoilers. him folding and coming back would be great though lol)
his character arc so far has been amazing and i hope seasons 4-8 do him justice 💥💥💥
#i know about like. most major events. but nobody talks about foreman so i really dunno what happens to him next#so shhh i’ll deal with the pain of whatever goes down with 13 when i get there#house md#hate crimes md#foreman friday#malpractice md#eric foreman#dr foreman#house md foreman#my writing#if you can call it that…#i love this show so much. i haven’t talked about it here at all but i do#this vexes me
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I Miss You
Characters: Armitage Hux x reader
Summary: In the cold emptiness of space, you found warmth in General Hux’s rare vulnerability. As his walls falter and darkness encroaches, your bond deepens but grows uncertain. Now, you cling to hope, striving to be the one exception to his solitude amidst the silence of the stars.
Word Count: 1326 words
Prompt: I Miss You – Blink 182
A/N: This is one for the wonderful @caplanbuckybarnes for the decades challenge, for which I have taken a million prompts and am slowly getting through them.
The galaxy felt unbearably quiet tonight, as if the void of space was doing its best to swallow the silence. The distant hum of the Finalizer’s engines served as a constant reminder of the cold, unyielding world you had chosen when you joined the First Order. It had never been an easy path, and it certainly wasn’t one made for finding warmth or comfort. Yet somehow, against all odds, you found it in possibly the least likely person of all.
General Armitage Hux had always been an enigma, a man who wore the mask of precision and control as if it was a second skin. His eyes were often icy, and his words even colder. Yet, in rare moments when the facade slipped, you had seen the rawness behind his exterior, a vulnerability that he desperately tried to hide. That was what had drawn you in, what kept you up late, lingering in his quarters or in the control room long after your duties ended.
You leaned against the window of his quarters, staring out into the endless black of hyperspace. The stars blurred into thin lines, rushing past you as the ship cut through space. But your thoughts were elsewhere, pulled back to the moment you first saw him crack—just a little.
It was a routine debriefing that turned into a heated argument. Your opinions on a tactical matter clashed, his temper flaring as he berated you for questioning his judgment, the audacity of you as a lower ranking officer something that needed to be squashed. But then, for just a moment, his voice had faltered. A flicker of something haunted crossed his features, and you had instinctively reached out, placing a hand on his arm. The touch had lingered longer than it should have, and though, after the initial shock had worn off, he had turned away and you saw his resolve crumble ever so slightly. That was when everything changed.
The closeness that developed wasn’t intentional; it felt more like a gradual unravelling. The walls Hux kept around himself slowly began to lower, bit by bit, until you found yourself in a strange kind of intimacy with the man who had once been nothing more than a superior officer. It was in the late hours of the night, when no one else was around, that he’d allow himself to be softer—when he’d speak quietly about his ambitions, his bitterness, and the loneliness that seemed to follow him like a shadow.
Yet here you were now, standing alone, the emptiness in the room mirroring the emptiness in your chest. The past few weeks had been different. He had been distant, colder than usual, as if retreating back into his shell. It wasn’t anger, at least not towards you; it was something darker, like a slow spreading toxicity, something that felt like a wall coming back up, shutting you out. You hadn’t spoken about it, afraid that if you pushed too hard, it would drive him away completely. But you couldn't ignore the feeling that you were losing him, or perhaps that you had never truly had him at all.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed, where a data pad lay discarded. The screen showed Hux's latest report—cold and impersonal, like everything else these days. But then, as you glanced to the side, you saw something out of place: a crumpled piece of paper on the floor beside his desk. You hadn’t meant to invade his privacy, but it pulled you in like a magnet.
Smoothing out the paper against the desk, your fingertips brushed over the indentations of his handwriting. The note, written in his neat but hurried script, sent a shiver through you. It was a confession, quiet and resigned.
'I cannot sleep. This sick, strange darkness seeps into my bones, haunting me, taunting me. I think that maybe I was designed to be alone.'
These were thoughts meant to be kept private, a glimpse into the depths of his despair. You couldn’t tell if he’d written them as a reminder to himself or as a desperate attempt to exorcise the truth he feared most—that for all his power, for all his carefully crafted control, Hux was losing a battle against the loneliness that clawed at him from within, your heart ached at the thought. You hadn’t been there to cure his loneliness, nor did you believe you could. But you had hoped to be an exception to the solitude, a small spark of warmth in the otherwise cold existence he led. If he truly believed himself destined to be alone, where did that leave you?
The sound of the door hissing open startled you out of your thoughts. Hux entered, his expression stoic as always, but there was something different in his eyes—something wary, as if he had been caught off guard seeing you here.
“Working late?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral.
“I couldn’t sleep,” you replied, forcing a small, strained smile. “Thought I’d stay up and…keep myself occupied.”
He glanced at the data pad on the bed, then at the crumpled note on his desk. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, and he crossed the room, his eyes locked onto the traitorous piece of paper. There was a moment of heavy silence, the kind that seemed to thrum with unspoken words. You couldn’t bear it any longer.
“I saw what you wrote,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “About being alone.”
Hux’s shoulders stiffened, and he looked away, his gaze fixing on some indeterminate point across the room. “That was nothing,” he replied curtly. “A passing thought.”
“No,” you said, more firmly. “It wasn’t. You don’t have to pretend with me, Armitage.”
His name slipped from your lips like a plea, and he flinched as if the intimacy of it stung. The vulnerability that flickered across his features was brief but unmistakable. He sighed heavily, his hands clenching in his lap as he sank down to sit on the edge of his bed, struggling for a moment to find the right words.
“It’s…foolish, isn’t it?” he murmured, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “To think that I could be anything other than what I am. I’m not made for…this.” He gestured vaguely, as if the very idea of closeness, of connection, was something foreign to him.
You took a breath, steadying yourself as you sat beside him and reached out, covering his hand with yours. “You don’t have to be anything other than who you are,” you said softly. “You don’t have to do this alone, either.”
He looked at your hand, as though unsure whether to pull away or hold on tighter. His hesitation spoke volumes, the doubt warring with a longing he could never fully express. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his fingers closed around yours, tentative but firm.
“I’m afraid,” he confessed, the words barely more than a breath. “Afraid that if I let this—let you—too close, I’ll lose the one thing that I can control.”
You squeezed his hand, offering a gentle smile that spoke of understanding and patience. “Then let me be the one thing you don’t have to control.”
For the first time in what felt like weeks, a faint warmth glimmered in his gaze. It wasn’t a grand declaration or an outpouring of emotion, but it was real, and it was enough. In that moment, you realized that maybe you hadn’t been trying to heal his loneliness at all; you had simply been trying to share it. And that, in its own way, was more powerful than any words you could have said.
As you rested your head on his shoulder, the hum of the Finalizer’s engines no longer felt so unbearably quiet. The silence between you was no longer empty—it was peaceful, filled with the promise of something more, together.
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i'm with you | nikolai lantsov
summary: everything is falling apart around you, but the world is quiet for a moment as you and nikolai share a sunrise together.
a/n: this is a lil sequel to bad luck! it takes place 3 years after at the beginning of siege and storm, after rusalye is killed and the darkling is mutinied off the volkvolny lol. idk where this came from but i really wanted to write something for nikolai because im done with finals and kept my 4.0 and he makes me happy! so i hope you enjoy this short lil thing
wc: 1.5k
warning(s): fem!reader, slight bit of angst, mentions of death and fighting, but this is very light hurt/comfort so nothing really bad goes on
“I should have known this is where I’d find you.”
Nikolai’s voice rang out from behind you, clear and strong in the silence of an early morning. Nothing but you, him, and the sea, the way it had been for nearly three years now.
You weren’t ready to lose it.
“I needed some time,” you said, gaze remaining on the horizon, sunrise on the brink. “A lot has been going on.”
“An understatement,” Nikolai said wryly. His footsteps could hardly be heard against the wood as he walked over to you, choosing to lean his back against the railing in opposition to you supporting yourself with your forearms. He didn’t look at you, but his presence was more than enough. “How have you been holding up?”
“Better than most can say,” you said. “Certainly better than our guests.”
He chuckled. “I believe the Sun Summoner has wished death on me more than once.”
“Have you seen the way her tracker looks at you?” you asked. “That man wants you dead.”
You could see his grin out of the corner of your eye. “A spirited pair, to be sure. I’m lucky they haven’t actually made an attempt.”
“As if I would let them get close,” you said wryly. “I take my duties as your second-in-command very seriously.”
This time, you felt his eyes on you. “A misfortune you’ve been only my second for these past few weeks.”
You sighed. The vast expanse of the sea, just beginning to glow with the light of the sunrise, seemed much lonelier.
The past month had been… difficult, to say the least. And certainly lonely.
The Darkling—General of the Second Army, Grisha of the greatest renown, and one side of the Ravkan civil war—had hired Nikolai’s crew to take him and his Grisha through the Bone Road in search of the mythical sea whip Rusalye. Nikolai decided to go along with it, but the plan he’d cooked up with you and the crew was something truly idiotic. If you all could pull it off, though, it would be the start of Ravka’s saving grace.
The general was not a generous man beyond the coin he put up. He practically took over the ship, ruminating with an imposing power everywhere he went. You supposed it wasn’t difficult to lead an army when you could intimidate your way through everything in your path.
And he recognized you. Looked you over in a way that made your skin crawl, greeted you by name, asked if your parents knew where you were. You resisted the urge to spit in his face—years of etiquette lessons worn into your bones were the only thing that kept a practiced smile on your lips.
He just wanted to get under your skin, try to unsettle you, maybe hoped he could reveal your truth to anyone who still might not have known to sow division in the crew. You lied to his face and all he did was chuckle and move on.
The Darkling left you alone from then on, but Nikolai refused to take any chances. He made the decision to hide your relationship, to hide any form of closeness beyond your being his second—”the last thing I need is you being targeted for any mistakes I make,” he’d said, and you had no objections.
The Darkling had unnerved you since the first time you’d met him as a teenager. The insanity that flickered in his eyes any time his hunt for the Sun Summoner was brought up—the insanity fully displayed when he finally had her in his grasp—was enough to make you keep your head down wherever and whenever possible.
That was not to say it wasn’t difficult, though. The first night you spent alone rather than in his cabin was difficult, and you’d wondered if the ship had truly always been this cold. Your finger felt bare without its ring, and you always worried the necklace would somehow slip into view. Your hands itched for your dagger each time the Darkling threatened Nikolai, and you were sure his calming words afterwards were the only thing keeping you from doing something truly foolish.
And now he was fully your enemy, Rusalye had been turned to fetters, and the Sun Summoner and her mystical tracker were below deck in a very shaky alliance.
Things were certainly never boring with Nikolai, at least.
You were snapped out of your thoughts when he said your name, and you finally looked over at him.
“Are you sure you’re alright, milaya?” he asked softly. “Tolya did patch up all your wounds, didn’t he?”
“Perfectly,” you confirmed with a nod. “It’s just…”
“Talk to me, my love.” Nikolai reached out and took your hand, the callouses from years spent as a privateer a comfort by now. “You know I’m here for you, more now than ever.”
Your gaze dropped down to your joined hands, and you let out a loose sigh. “We’re going back to Ravka,” you finally managed to say. “Back to the noble world.”
“It does feel strange,” he murmured. “After years on the sea, free from any expectations. Free from being a Lantsov.”
“Years away from my parents,” you said quietly. “They probably think I’m dead.” Your gaze flitted back up to meet his eyes, and you were struck by the warmth in them. “And I would have been, had it not been for you. Dead or much, much worse.”
“You can’t think like that,” he urged, pulling you closer. “You made your choice—we both have. And they brought us back together. That means they couldn’t have been wrong.”
“I left them, Nikolai.” Your chest tightened and you looked back out to the boundless waters. “Without a single word.”
“I did the same,” he said wryly. “You somehow managed to forgive me.”
You huffed a laugh and shook your head. “I’m just not the same girl I was when I left. I don’t want to be that girl—that duke’s daughter that smiles and curtsies her way through everything. I’m worried that they’ll try and push me right back into that box.”
Nikolai scoffed. “As if they could even try.”
In your silence, he gently tipped your chin so you could meet his eyes.
“You’re my second in command,” he said. “You’ve taken quicker to all of this than any member of any crew I’ve seen. And when you’re focused on something, you’re a sure sight to see. You’re not the girl that they raised—you’ve forged yourself into your own woman. If they have any sense at all, they’ll be the proudest parents in all of Ravka.”
“I hope so,” you admitted, “more than anything. All of this— learning to sail and command and fighting by your side— it’s made me feel more alive in a few years than a whole childhood in Ravka’s court.”
“And I consider myself immensely lucky that you somehow find enjoyment in all of this the same as I do,” Nikolai said with a slight laugh, taking his hand away from your chin. “Truly, I don’t know how I was fortunate enough to find you again after messing everything up once.”
Your lips quirked in a slight smile. “And I consider myself immensely lucky that you stayed in love with me after all that time.”
“The only thing easier than falling in love with you is staying in love with you,” Nikolai mused, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I could sail the Bone Road for a thousand years and that would never change.”
“That’s another reason I don’t want to go back to court,” you said, heat blooming in your cheeks. “You’ll charm every person you come across with those honeyed words.”
Nikolai smiled. “And yet I could only ever mean them for you.”
“I just don’t get how you’re still so confident,” you said. “We’re going back to Ravka in the midst of a civil war. The Darkling’s on our tail, and he won’t stop until he’s gotten his very bloody revenge.”
“But we’re going back together,” Nikolai clarified. “As far as I’m concerned, anything is possible so long as we’re together.”
“How are you always so sure of yourself?” you marveled.
He shrugged. “It’s very difficult not to believe in myself when I’ve got you by my side.”
“Saints,” you murmured, your smile growing, “I’ve missed you more than you know.”
Nikolai pulled you into a kiss and your eyes fluttered shut as his lips met yours, your hands falling into familiar places on his body as you all but fell into him. It had only been a few days since your successful mutiny against the Darkling, and open affection still felt slightly strange. Any remaining qualms were fully kissed out of you, though, and when you pulled away, out of breath but glowing from the inside out, you could hardly contain your smile.
“Trust me,” Nikolai breathed, “I know.”
You grinned as you leaned against his side, and he pulled you in close with an arm around you. You rested your head on his shoulder, and for a moment, the countless voices of doubt inside of you fell silent as you watched the sunrise together.
“We’ll figure it all out. I promise.” His voice was little more than a whisper in your ear, and yet it warmed your body just as much as his touch. “I’m with you until the end, milaya. No matter what.”
And you believed him.
#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov fic#nikolai lantsov fluff#nikolai lantsov angst#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone fic#grishaverse x reader#sadie writes
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The deal
Fandom: Six of Crows
Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem!Reader
Summary: You work in a brothel and all of the sudden Kaz Brekker becomes a frequent visitor who prefers to stay in the shadows until you come up to him first.
Warnings: soft Kaz, mentions of touch aversion
Word count: 2,7k
— Let me guess. Are you going to use an excuse that you're looking for something again?
— No, this time I'm only looking for you.
Your mother once warned you about how cruel the world was and how important it was to be careful. Young girls often caught the attention of slavers and it would probably break your parents' hearts if they knew exactly how your life had turned out after their death. Your aunt was supposed to take you from Fjerda to Ravka, but your ship was attacked by pirates and instead you ended up in Ketterdam when you were fifteen.
In some way you were lucky. You got a place at the Rainforest, an extremely posh and expensive place. The guests were usually wealthy travelers, diplomats, or members of the Merchant Council, so you didn't have to worry about your safety. The girls had to keep the good mood of the clients, but everyone put a different meaning to the words. Some wanted only sex, some wanted company to talk to. They were all escaping loneliness, and you couldn't blame them for that.
But among the row of all the others, only one guest was special. The tapping of his cane on the wooden parquet was unmistakable. You had to have lived in Ketterdam as a complete hermit, blind and deaf, if you didn't know who Kaz Brekker was. Rumors about him flooded the streets, intimidating and exaggerating every little thing about him. But there was no doubt that this guy was very dangerous indeed. His cane broke a lot of bones, and his brilliant mind ruined a lot of lives.
It was not for you to judge how people preferred to rest in their spare time. Sometimes you spotted Jesper in his another funny hat at the playhouse across the street from your second-floor window. You two even talked a couple of times when you ran into each other on the street after the establishments were closed. But seeing Kaz Brekker at the Rainforest required a special occasion.
He seemed like a complete stranger in the place. His eyes were constantly scanning the room, his whole body was tense and looked more like a wax statue than a living person. He was clearly uncomfortable in the brothel, even if he tried to hide it, and his face remained a perfect blank sheet that could easily be given a slight interest. You might have believed it, but a few years at the Rainforest had taught you much better insight into men. Being able to read the slightest visible reaction was part of your job.
Anyone else came to a brothel for entertainment. People wanted to get some female attention and flirtation, to drink and spend a huge amount of money so they could leave at dawn with a smile and a sense of having had a good time. They came "from somewhere." But Kaz Brekker came "to somewhere." He was cautious, but at the same time quite determined, and he clearly had a purpose of some kind. You had seen him at the bar a few times, but then he disappeared faster than you could figure out what kind of drink he had in his glass.
It took a whole week before you realized exactly what was going on. Kaz carefully looked around the main hall, but never went any farther. You had to be a guest accompanied with a girl to go up to the second and third floor, where the girls' rooms for work and the office of the accountant and the club owner were located. You wondered what Kaz wanted to find that was so important that he didn't entrust the job to Jesper, who could pretend to be a client and sniff it out. From what you had heard, Kaz Brekker was probably the only man in Ketterdam who didn't use brothels for their intended purpose.
— Do you need any help or are you going to keep looking around every corner and memorizing what time the guards at the entrance change?
You walked up to him first, leaning innocently beside him on the bar, and glanced curiously at his glass. Vodka and ice? The club's shelves were stocked with liquor, but Kaz Brekker certainly had to stand out in this one, too. The simpler, the better, that's for sure.
— What makes you think I'm interested in security? — Kaz's husky voice carefully concealed his surprise, as if he'd been so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed you approaching. And it was further confirmation of how different he was from the people around him. People didn't come to brothels to drink in silence and think about personal things.
— Well, I have eyes, and I can use my mouth to find out that you haven't been with any of the girls, even though it's the fourth time you've been here in a week, — you chirped, giving one of the clients a smile before you turned your attention back to Kaz, your tone changing to more businesslike. — The cane and gloves. This black suit. If you want to go somewhere incognito, I suggest you use a disguise in the future, Kaz Brekker. Everyone is capable of recognizing you in this town, as well as exactly what you're known for. Are you planning another heist here?
Kaz was ready to curse himself for how obvious it was. A foolish scheme had turned out to be an even more foolish finale. He had originally wanted to dig into the situation himself, after Inej had given him the details of the owner, the number of girls and the size of the rooms. But one look at the crowd was enough for him to spot you and that dark blue dress with the veil you wore that first night. Like the sky in the middle of the night. A mystery lying in plain sight. It wasn't until his third night that he was able to find you among the other girls in the hall, guided by the shade of hair he remembered, when he could finally see your face.
Perhaps all these years the Saints had shielded him from unnecessary sympathy and feelings for someone just to give him the illusion of invincibility. He loved nothing and nothing could be taken from him. Kaz believed this as if he really didn't have the ability to feel anything. And that's why he was so shaken by how much he remembered that image of you with the veil and how much he wanted to know more about you. He was so unrestrainedly crushing on you that he still hadn't moved forward with the plan. He needed the access to the second floor, but he didn't have the courage to come up to you and pretend to be your client. Kaz shook at the thought of touching you and the anxiety came along with nausea almost instantly.
— There will be no heist. I just need to look at a couple of documents. I won't even take them with me, — Kaz replied discreetly, forcing his appraising gaze to stop on your face. Too beautiful. Too distracting. He shouldn't have told you anything but he hoped his honesty would buy him a way out.
— I can help. In exchange for a favor, of course.
You leaned closer to him in a trusting manner, and your fingers gently touched Kaz's shoulder. Just for a second, so lightly that the touch seemed phantom and unreal. Whatever past Kaz held, it made him keep his distance from people in a literal sense. Your observation of the previous nights was enough to realize that Kaz was not a fan of touches, even casual ones. The gloves clearly served him as an extra layer of protection, though you were curious about what had happened to him that caused such a reaction. Many girls in brothels reacted similarly negatively to touching after a while, but Kaz didn't seem like the kind of person who would work in such an establishment.
— Okay, let's say I would agree to your terms. Hypothetically. What would you ask for? — it was hard for Kaz to imagine what a girl like you might need. Money? Freedom from your indenture? Or someone else's death? He knew how much brothels disfigured and perverted the psyche, no one remained a saint there.
— You will take your gloves off next to me. No touching. But you will take them off so we are equal.
You were absolutely unwavering in what you said. Some tension thickened between you, and the air seemed almost electrified. Kaz Brekker was a threat to everyone in Ketterdam, but something told you that he could show an unusual softness around you. You'd met guys like that before. They built themselves up to be important and confident, they controlled other people's lives, but when they were alone, they all wanted to give up some of their control. To give it to someone else, to breathe easier. You wondered if Kaz was really the same.
He threw a quick glance toward the exit, as if miscalculating his escape route, but finally nodded in silent agreement. A smile bloomed on your lips, and you wrapped your fingers lightly around Kaz's wrist over his jacket to lead him up the stairs. The guards let you through without any questions, and you wondered if they knew who the dark-haired guy with the cane next to you was. If they did, they would have preferred to kick him out in fear that he would pick all the locks and stashes in the brothel.
You led Kaz to the very last door and carefully looked around before nodding approvingly. Time was short, but you had no doubt that Kaz would manage to find what he needed.
— All of the owner's papers are here, so as all the accountant's reports. He'll be back in half an hour, after lunch, but if I were you, I'd hurry, — you warned him with a charming smile, without any guilt for taking a criminal to the brothel's main office. — Be a good boy and come see me afterwards. Second door on the left. I've heard you always stick to your part of the deal.
You didn't wait for his answer and went to your room. You had time to open a window and fix your hair before a polite knock reached your ears, and then Kaz came inside. Quite pleased, judging by the look on his face. Whatever he was looking for, he found it. The door closed behind him with a quiet click, though you knew no one would dare disturb you anyway.
— You could have told me. I wouldn't have wasted my time, — Kaz's voice, despite the accusation in his words, was filled with real amusement. His blue eyes twinkled with surprise, though he quickly returned to his usual reserved look.
— I wanted to watch you at work. How fast you can do it. Your fame runs far ahead of you.
You shrugged innocently, smiled softly, and then stepped back, resting your back against the windowsill. The light breeze from the open window played mischievously with your hair, and you threw your head back for a moment, closing your eyes to relax. When you looked up again, Kaz was already in front of you. His cane had been left next to a nearby chair, and his last step toward you was extremely neat, since Kaz was trying not to put pressure on his bad leg.
— I know a couple of Healers. They could have helped you with your leg. Your life would have been a lot easier, but I guess you thought about it and gave up that option. Do you use this pain to punish yourself? — you spoke more quietly, and everything inside you froze with a strange anticipation.
Tension rang in the air and only got stronger as Kaz slowly began to remove his gloves. When was the last time he'd done this in front of someone? Had it even happened once? He looked so vulnerable, so collected and soft at the same time, that you immediately wanted to praise him. It was clearly a huge step for him, and you were about to ask why he decided to do it after all, but Kaz beat you to it, breaking the long pause.
— To remember. Pain reminds me that I am alive. That I have some weaknesses. Given what I do, it's easy to believe in my own invincibility. I've seen it bring people down, — Kaz's voice lowered and literally vibrated.
What was happening seemed like a real obsession to him, but he was already here and this was his chance, so he cautiously took another step, standing quite close so that your chests almost touched. The stale smell of water crept up his nose as the first sign of future panic, but Kaz did his best to get rid of it. Some things have to be done the other way around, so even though all his instincts were screaming for him to step back, he shortened the distance between you and touched your hair unabashedly, tucking the strand behind your ear.
— It's a good strategy, but I feel sorry that you have to use it, always feeling pain with every move, — you didn't try to move away, nor did you comment on Kaz's actions. The attraction between you could be felt under your skin. Kaz was handsome as hell, and part of you wished he could have been a mere client. So you could flirt and touch him without any consequences, without making him uncomfortable.
— Your strategy is pretty good, too. In a few years you've made a great career move, from a usual servant to an accountant of one of the top brothels. Do you still work with clients?
— I'm a fast learner. And yes, I don't have to sleep with anyone anymore, but sometimes I still spend time around big clients to make sure there aren't any problems.
Kaz nodded, not really paying attention. He could hardly think about anything right now while his whole body was in a state of peak tension. For the first time in his life he was so attracted to someone, and it shook him to his core. Kaz wanted to go further, but his mind was frantically trying to figure out exactly what was going to happen. Was your attraction mutual? If he risked touching you for real, how quickly would panic overshadow desire? If you knew about who he was, did you realize the danger he brought with him?
It was literally written all over his face, all those difficult choices that plagued him so much that you made the decision for him, gently reaching forward with your palm. He could touch it or he could step back. During the healing process even the tiniest step was important. You kept your eyes on Kaz, studying his graceful facial features with pleasure, and you couldn't ignore how handsome he was. Kaz could have had any girl or guy at the snap of his fingers, but he was so uptight and so caught up in his work that he didn't notice anyone around him. Or he didn't want to notice because of his obvious problem with touching.
— What were you looking for in the papers?
You tried to distract him, continuing to watch as his fingers slowly came close to yours. There was barely a millimeter of space between you, but even that sent a wave of heat through your body. You could feel the touch even so, though it never really happened.
— The list of investors. And the guest list at the anniversary party. I was asked to find some compromising information on an official from the Merchant Council, — Kaz looked embarrassed and twitched his lips guiltily, taking a step back as panic reached his lungs and cut off his oxygen.
— I can get you an invitation. If you agree to visit me again. There's an old hotel in the west side of the town. I rent a room under its green roof, the biggest one. If you crack the lock before I get there, after midnight, I'll be especially pleased. Do you want me to be pleased, Kaz?
You returned the previous minimal distance between you and leaned into Kaz's ear with a charming whisper, casually running your palm along his shoulder and chest, leaving tiny millimeters to the actual touch. You wanted to test your guess and see if he wanted you the same way, or if you just made up the fact that there was a spark between you.
You got the best answer when Kaz nodded and briefly touched your palm with a light kiss, like a true gentleman.
#six of crows#kaz brekker#kaz brekker imagine#kaz brekker x fem!reader#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker x you#shadow and bone
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murdoc for character opinions
god. murdoc. im admittedly not deep in enough to hard assess my opinions from 2018 vs now, but let's give a quick run through.
i love murdoc. but he's also hard to talk about. so i think its best to jump forward to what i find most compelling about him: it's someone's capacity to grow and change even relatively late in life.
He has a start in life that, speeding over all of THAT, leaves him a very vapid, self centered and cruel person by the time the band becomes a thing. Bit by bit, tooth by pulled tooth, he learns to see things differently.
And this is where that "canon isn't real if i dont look at it"- the continued existence of gorillaz's storyline depends on there being an antagonist, and that is historically Murdoc's role. So a lot of that development will get retconned, glossed over, etc. I don't really blame JH for that anymore, that's just how these things often go with properties that have this kind of extended shelf life.
Murdoc is a person that distills all his hurt into anger, excuses his loneliness as being "by choice" and buries trauma under ego, posturing and hypersexual behavior. But as it is when you form bonds with people, tentative as they might be, they change you. Phase 3 is the climax of this, and phase 6 was both the """final""" relapse of his bad tendencies (post TNN cough) and the end of his arc with The Lost Chord.
THAT ALL BEING SAID, he's silly to me. I count all the material of him being Oddly Polite or giggly as canon whether it's Phil Cornwell breaking character or not.
Murdoc has two faces: one for the paps, and another for the fans. One crude and attention seeking, and a softer more relaxed one for when he ACTUALLY gets to discuss his interests and the music he makes. He plays the media like a fiddle, since having eyes on him is an old skill he's long since mastered.
My possible divergences from fanon at large? I haven't been in touch lately, but I remember some interpretations being popular that I disagree with, so I'll just state my takes:
He's not iredeemable or stupid or remorseless, he grows to care about his bandmates very early on but is VERY slow on the uptake of identifying that affection, and he's much smarter than he lets on. Also no beef to people who ship 2doc but man it is just not my cup of tea. They're coworkers slash fffrriiienndsss?? who needle each other constantly.
AS FOR HEADCANONS: very simple.
A lot of his stunts in the public eye are coordinated- when he said he refuses to get on the stage on other people's terms, this includes the paps. If he's going to be hated, he might as well do that with intention and style
That being said, it's also a self-made excuse to be a debaucherous asshole as well as how he justifies the overindulgence to himself.
Selling his soul had progressive effects on his appearance
green skin, pointy ears, pointier teeth. he used to wear a red contact. he doesn't have to anymore!
the red eyes would be bilateral but in phase 5 the eye injury resulted in anisocoria- bowie-esque. He isn't sure if this is another manifestation of his deal for musical success, or karma.
because of his reduced vision and MULTIPLE stints in prison he is jumpier than ever
he has an unibrow! the fringe hides it because it grows back too fast, and murdoc is vain.
he used to have a fuller face, but as of phase 2 the stardom (drugs, poor self-care) started affecting his appearance. Phase 3 was even more brutal in terms of this. by the time phase 4 rolled around and he got clean, the buccal fat was gone for good, courtesy of plain aging!
short, skinny and not in the healthy way. again, phase 1-2 sees him develop a beer gut under xylophone ribs, phase 3 he's at his worst health-wise. Phase 4 and 6 see him put some real padding on, finally. (5 is a step back due to incarceration)
phase 5 issss fiiiineee... but i prefer respect-false-iconz (aka ezracaution)'s canon divergent exploration of it, The Code
lastly: projection? brother that's the bisexuality, shortness, edginess for show and anger issues. that's just text.
#gorillaz#murdoc niccals#murdoc gorillaz#admin draws#fanart#BRRRUUUH what a wall of text. hope someone has a field day with this.#uhhhh idk if i said everything. might edit later. whateevvverrrr#gorillaz meta
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IVORY · PART V
Fandom: Dune
Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Female OC
Words: 2,238
Warnings: dark themes, violence, death and mention of cannibalism
Summary: Your pride and loneliness gets the better, as you choose to pry in what you should avoid.
Desecrated.
It's tender to the touch. Bruised. The simple trace of your finger is enough to draw a frown. The mottled skin of your throat is obvious. A terrible site to bare witness, but there's more; a scattered mess mares your body.
The powders have no affect in hiding their existence, and so you resorted to covering them with fabric. It's better the people don't see. It's better your father and kin don't realise the damage of only one night. If they did, they might not leave you here, and the point of all this would be for nothing.
A waste.
You've come this far and you've survived. It's not for anyone else but for you to decide when it ends. It could be weeks, years or even decades, but you know this marriage is worth more than your life. It means a future for thousands of others, if not millions.
Turning from the mirror, you nod for the servants to continue dressing you. The early morning marks the hour of your fathers return to Caladan. He and the others are set to leave this planet, and you want them to leave with hope and pride.
Honour.
You aren't going to dress like your new people, nor will you ever behave like them. The void of their culture won't ever touch your soul. Instead, the servants prepare you in one of the gowns bought from home. A statement both daring and bold.
"Is it time?" you question, to which the servant nods. She's the very same to whom had once adorned the bruises you do now. For reasons unknown, you had taken a liking to the woman. "Good."
Taking a deep breath as you left your chamber, you couldn't help but yearn for what freedom you might find outside these walls; if for only a short time. If only to see your father depart this abysmal world. Gathering yourself, it was only your lone servant who guided you through the palace and up to the hithe.
The dark star that cloaks this planet bore light, and you wince as it floods your gentle eyes; having been weeks since you'd taken in anything other than the artificial. Even the air is harder to breath despite being outside; far too poisoned with fumes.
In the distance you see the great ship to which you'd arrived in, still gleaming unlike anything you'd ever seen. A beacon. There's very few in the galaxy who have or ever will travel the vastness of space. In fact, the first time you'd ever done so was to bring yourself here.
"I didn't think you would come," spoke your father. Standing in uniform, he greets you well kept but with a face of despair. The loom that surrounds him is heartbreaking. "I didn't think you would want to see me."
"Then you think too much," you replied with a faint smile. "You're my father - my duke. You're an honorable man who deserves to be farewelled."
"An honorable man wouldn't trade his daughter to the enemy."
His words hit you like a bullet. Painful. The surrounding noise grows overwhelming to the senses. Hypersensitive. You can hear the ships, the soldiers and even the planet itself resonating from all-round. Even the wind across your face feels strange.
But as you look at your fathers rugged face, see his familiar eyes and features, you feel the noise fade away. You can see the burden he's carrying. You know this was as difficult for him as it is for you. It isn't fair or right for him to keep carrying it.
"There is no call we do not answer," you repeat in mantra. "We do what we must for the good of the people." Resting a hand on his shoulder, you give a light squeeze. "We do what we must to survive."
"You're strong, just like your mother," he nods with a chuff. "You always have been."
Stepping forward, he places a soft kiss on your forehead and your eyes close amidst the threat of tears. You want to remember him as he is and as the kind-heartedness that he represents. Steadily breathing, you absorb his gentle touch and scent; to which you won't soon forget.
"We'll see each other again," he promises with a touch of your cheek. "I'll make sure of it."
Nodding your head with a mustered smile, the duke straightens himself before taking a step back. There are no other exchanges as he moves to make way for the ship. It's a quick farewell, anything more would be too difficult; too emotional.
"My lady," utters Gurney. Stepping forward, he takes your hand to lay a quick peck. "As a man of your fathers council, loyal friend and protector, it pains me that my only power now is to wish you well."
"Fate is a complexity, is it not?" you jest upon looking at your retreating fathers form. In all seriousness you added, "You'll protect him, won't you - and Paul?"
He pauses, "With my life."
"Then there's nothing to fear," you mutter beneath your breath. A rush of relief washes your bones, perhaps a premonition. "Thank you, Gurney."
Giving a curt nod, he bid himself goodbye before following suit to board the ship; along with the rest. Watching alongside what few soldiers and groundmen there are, you waited by until the doors ceiled. The tender strings in your heart tug at the site.
Loneliness is cruel.
Yet, a shadow looms on the metal floor of the platform. Piter. The mentat appeared from seemingly nowhere, and to your irritably, is the only one of any importance to see your father and people off on their long voyage.
"Where are they?" you question bluntly, not bothering so much as to look at him. Your eyes are still sharply focused on the starship. "Why didn't they come?"
In truth, it doesn't matter that your new family by law had not shown for the occasion. They hadn't done you the courtesy of it upon arrival, and so what little there is to have changed in their humiliation. You only ask in leu of the open wound it now salts.
"Pressing matters," spoke Piter. "The Baron's time is precious. It's best not to waste what isn't so clearly desired."
"And what of Feyd-Rautha?" you queried whilst turning to face the mentat; heated eyes meeting cold ones. "Is his time as coveted?"
"The answer isn't pleasant."
"I didn't ask if it were pleasant."
"Take the day," retorts Piter as he looks out towards the horizon. "This is your home now - you should see it."
The anger within your veins begins to boil. It vexes you that this twisted man won't simply answer what should be the simplest question. It causes your mind to tick, wondering what it could possibly be to make him so reluctant; secretive.
"Do I have to pry it out of you?"
The threat did nothing to change his monotone demeanor, but you can tell he'd heard you well and clear. A break of silence fills the void between you, until finally there is no more effort for him to conceal the truth. He confesses with a neutral tone.
"Prying only leads you to places you shouldn't be," he states before glancing at your servant. "But this one can show you the way."
Glancing over your shoulder, you eye the woman; head bowed low. Piter stays while you take your leave of the hithe. You'd expected him to be stronger, but his words of warning begin ring. Perhaps he's right to stave you from the trail you now follow.
"This way," utters your servant.
Following her lead, she moves at a slow pace; an evident lack of urgency. The reason is an evident one. Venturing into the palace walls and traversing the halls, the farther you travel, the more you studied the lithe and pale woman.
The muscles in her neck twitch and strain ever so subtly. A sign of distress. The way she grips her hands together, so tightly, as if she were trying to cling on, only makes you all the more intrigued yet disturbed.
"Where are we going?"
Keeping her head bowed she responds, "We're almost there."
The answer is hardly clear enough to process. Empty. The abundance of riddling and vague responses you've received only adds to your tart aggravation. It's baneful, with how the Harkonnen's have polluted this place with such fear and secrets.
A terrible infestation.
Eventually, the servant stops outside that of a chamber door; similar to your own but far removed. This place is located deeper within the palace, if at all possible. You can see her milky skin prickle and shiver beneath her thin dress.
You order, "Stay close."
Swiping a hand over the console, the door opens wide; revealing a bright illumination as it beams down from the ceiling. As you step forward, your shoes click against the glossy ground whilst the door close from behind; entrapping the two of you.
The channel of light strikes down upon the epicenter of the room, clearly irradiating the psychotic man you'd been seeking; although he's far from alone. As criminal and dangerous as he may be, his blood still belongs to great wealth.
Feyd stands within the down cast of light, muscular arms outreached while servants attend to his requisite. In a warped sense, his marbled pose and aura makes you think of an something akin to ancient; like a god from the old world.
A god of death.
The other servants are quick to stop and turn heads at your unexpected arrival, but Feyd remains unbothered. Evidently, there's not a soul on this planet for him to fear. However, his attendants have paused far too long for his liking.
Feyd turns slowly, clearly agitated at whomever had decided to enter his domain. His sharpened features don't soften upon realising your presence. Instead, he looks you up and down rather analytically.
He rumbles, "What do you want?"
"Respect," you answer simple and low. "Honour."
Feyd's lip twitches in a slight grimace and snarl. It's enough to show blackened teeth, to which you still find utterly unsettling. Feyd waves off a servant, before turning his undivided attention towards you; malicious.
"Honour," he repeats as he stalks towards you; one step at a time. "For who? For you?"
"For us both," you respond as he circles behind you. "The empire watches - waiting to see what will happen next. Now all they see is you - absent from the honour my house was due this morning."
"You Atreides," he drawls with a grumble. A flutter of feminine giggles echo from the far corner of the room. "You're all the same."
Feyd moves from behind you, instead leading himself to a table. It gave you a chance to take in the room. The servants stand predictably petrified, while three others sat lounged on a booth; the strange women are intermingled with one another.
"Would you like some fresh meat my darlings?" he boasted, whilst lifting a knife from the counter. It took you all of a moment to realise he's no longer speaking to you, but to the women on the lounge. "What would you like? A lung? A liver?"
Their own blackened mouths show in a mixture of smiles and grins. Deranged. Their giggles and moans visibly shift the tension. The other servants seem to faulter on the spot; their heads tucking lower and bodies tremoring.
"You," he leers at your own servant. "Come."
"No," you quip without hesitation. The last thing that'll happen in this room will be his hands touching the woman who stands so vulnerably behind your body of protection. "She isn't yours to torment."
"Everything's mine," he replies while approaching his nearest attendant.
You watch the girls lips quiver and eyes widen as his blade thrusts into her abdomen; once, then twice and again. She groans and splutters whilst falling to the ground in a matter of seconds. Butcher.
A pool of blood seeps as he turns to add, "Even you, Atreides."
The violent execution shocks you deep within, and control is hard to fight for as your emotions take hold like a vice. You're trying not to scream. You're trying not to react as to give him satisfaction. Instead, you watch as the girl continues to die, his victim twitching and suffering on the floor; dying then dead.
"There," he gestures matter-of-factly. "My honour."
His reasoning makes no sense. It's all madness to you. Murder. Lifting the dagger, he observes the blood which coats the blade. Transfixed. The gleam in his wicked eyes is unmistakable, but the gravity of it even more so, when his tongue licks a line of blood.
"Because of me," he elaborates. "My darlings are satisfied. Because of me, they're to live another day. There is honour in being master."
Your gaze flickers from him to the three women who sit intertwined on the lounge. It sounds as exactly as he'd announced, but you simply don't want to fathom the truth. These are fowl notions, even for the likes of his kind.
It sickens you more than the memory of his touch.
Listening to the women revel amongst themselves, they seem clearly pleased with their masters slaughter and offering. Feyd gestures and the others are swift to drag the fresh corpse from site; leaving a trail of smeared blood.
Concubines and cannibals.
#fanfic#female oc#dune#dune part two#dune 2024#story#feyd#feyd rautha#feyd x female oc#house harkonnen#feyd-rautha x female oc#feyd x you#Atreides!Female OC
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for your ship and au post, bucktommy old guard au?
okay okay
Buck is Immortal, he died in Pennsylvania during the Revolutionary War and likes to joke all the time that he's older than the US
finding the others had been very hard for him, he had been the youngest immortal and had a whole ocean separating him from them
years of loneliness and watching your family die, plus hundreds of years of war and seeing humanity at its worst does weigh on Buck, but he does his best to ultimately see the good in everything, and he takes his immortality as a chance to learn, to help people, it's something he reminds the others
eventually, the years go on and he goes with the others to help, it leads him to meet a young pilot, freshly deployed at 22 years old after he obtained his military pilot license
Buck doesn't mean to be, but he's drawn to the kid, Tommy is young and tries to hide it, but Buck knows loneliness like an old friend and sees past it
Tommy helps get them out of a tough situation, and in the dark in a camp in a desert, he takes a chance and kisses Buck under the stars
Buck knows he shouldn't
but he does
it ends though, when one of the others gets "killed" and they need to leave, they were only there for a mission and Buck has to leave Tommy behind, he shouldn't get attached anyway
that doesn't mean he doesn't keep tabs on the kid
he learns that Tommy's been discharged, that he's in the States again and that he's becoming a firefighter
sometimes, he imagines going to LA, finding Tommy and telling him that it wasn't just a few nights for him, that he regrets leaving
most times Buck thinks about the centuries of living he has, of the baggage that comes with being immortal, that this could only end with him living on and Tommy would eventually die
fast forward and they have a mission, sex traffic ring out in LA and they need transport and Buck shouldn't, but he's in charge of transport and it's been 20 years
he asks Tommy anyway
the mission goes sideways and Tommy definitely holds Buck as he dies and then resurrects and suddenly Tommy knows who Buck really is
Tommy doesn't run
they catch up and Buck takes a break and he lets himself just slow down and be human, even if it's for a little while, because how can it be pretend when he's in love?
AND HERE IS WHERE OUR STORY SPLITS TO POSSIBLE ENDINGS
one ending is Tommy gets caught up in everything, and he knows Buck can heal, he knows the others can as well, but he can't stand by to watch their suffering and he goes in to help them/save them and it results in his death, Buck wearing his dog tags for the next how many centuries he lives, eventually the name wears off from how Buck rubs at the metal but he never forgets Tommy's name and the love they had
Tommy and Buck have their decades, Tommy gets older and Buck watches as he ages, he gets grey and people joke about Tommy being Buck's uncle - Tommy dies quietly in their home, peacefully in his sleep, the last thing he ever said to Buck was "I love you"
Buck loses his immortality and learns what it's like to age with aches and pains, but he has Tommy at his side and he's at peace with his death
Tommy ends up dying, his blood spilling out onto the street from a bullet that was meant for Buck - hours later he gasps back to life and Buck doesn't have to lose another loved one
send me a ship + an AU and I'll give you a summary on how I think the AU would look like
#bucktommy#anon I could kiss you this is like two of my fav things#evan buckley#tommy kinard#911 abc
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Inuyasha x Kikyo, Sesshomaru x Kagura
getting my rating out of the way: TWO OUT OF TEN BABYYYY!
here's the thing - i think inukik's dynamic is interesting because of the restraint. the distance between them despite their perceived kinship. souls brought together because, in kikyo's words, they both know loneliness.
but that isn't really true. inuyasha is alone, kikyo is lonely, and it's this disconnect that makes them incompatible. on the surface, they share many traits that stem from similar issues. both are distrustful, both have to hide their "true selves" under masks of either prickly disdain or stone-cold apathy. and the deal they make about the shikon jewel is really where it clicked for me how much they just don't work, because before kikyo can get to know the real inuyasha, beyond pre-conceived notions, he has to strip away a part of himself. he has to become human. and a huge, huge reason as to why inuyasha is the way he is is because he's a hanyou. who will he be after a transformation like that?
inukik shippers like to prattle on about how inuyasha and kikyo are super tragic and deserved better, but can we actually think about what that means? what would their relationship be like if things had gone according to plan? you have inuyasha, whose just given away a crucial part of himself, simultaneously tentatively happy to start a life with someone but also completely lost because he doesn't know how to be a lover, how to be a husband, hell, he barely knows how to be a friend - is that what they once were? friends? he doesn't know how to adjust to humans who would have once shouted and thrown things at him. he feels the fleshy things around his ears and wonders how he can still possibly feel deaf when he has them. he hates how he can't see his own hands in the dark. he hates the unspeakable and unexplainable human aches.
and kikyo is free. she still heals people, of course, but she no longer has to deal with the burden of the shikon jewel. and now she has a companion to share it all with. he's always so frustrated, and she can't understand why beyond the fact that he's a little weaker now. they're so careful with each other, too. they didn't know how to hug or hold hands or touch when they were meeting alone back then, so they don't know how to kiss, either, as husband and wife.
i can't see them fighting. i can't see them bickering or having a playful spat and that, to me, is a problem. one of the reasons why i love inukag so much is that we see them fight all the time, but they always come back stronger regardless. their feelings don't waver. and because of the honesty in their arguments, they learn each other's tells and ticks. the small details. they aren't afraid to get into a debate, because their love is strong enough to withstand it.
when i think of inukik, i think of walking on a wire.
besides all this conceptual stuff, we do get inukik in the show, after her forced resurrection. and this is where you totally lose me. any potential interest i could have had (and there was none to begin with) goes down the drain with lines like, "your life is mine." no. NO.
genuinely she made his survivor's guilt so much worse by reinforcing his negative line of thinking. and then at the end when he's holding her dying body, lamenting that he couldn't do more for her, she's like, "it's okay. you came." THATS WHAT HES BEEN DOING THIS WHOLE TIME??? no. no. this is too irritating lmao
i don't hate kikyo (most of the time) i just think a) inuyasha deserves better b) they are nooot compatible. also, most inukik shippers i've met turned me off from the ship even more.
anyway inukag and kagkik are a thousand times more compelling >>>
rating: 10/10 no notes
okay, but genuinely, i love sesskagu. i don't talk about them a lot, but they really are one of the more interesting pairings imo. opposites in many ways, but also very similar. sesshomaru, so certain of whom he is, and kagura, still trying to recover her body and identity for herself. sesshomaru, who travels the lands at his own pace, and kagura, who wishes to be free as the wind. sesshomaru and rin, kagura and kohaku. both haughty and powerful, but with contrasting personalities. wouldn't hurt to give sesshomaru someone (who would bully him) to banter with either.
also, i have a super specific headcanon of kagura teaching rin wind magic....i just need more rin and kagura interactions please im begging.
anyway 10/10. sesskagu sepremacy.
#every time i write a long post it turns into a fanfiction halfway through#oh well#inuyasha#kikyo inuyasha#sesshomaru#kagura#sesskagu#inuyasha anime#inuyasha a feudal fairy tale#inuyasha a feudal fairytale
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me trying to find angst for Caine (there’s almost 300 million views on the pilot)
i know there’s just one episode out so far but there’s an entire fandom on one video to baldis basics song (no shade to you guys)
anyone who can actually write go fetch *throws this at you*
also have fun with the fact his personality may be fake, project your neurodivergent related issues onto him, maybe there is an exit but he’s hiding it due to loneliness and a lack of sympathy, he’s immortal ( he has some negative emotions like anger and anxiety), take the theory the circus is unstable and his blue screen moment, make it up, find evidence for stuff past these recommendations please anything i beg of you guys
if you guys have found (or even created) any caine centric angst that isn’t too ooc and does not have ships in it g i v e
(not saying if it’s too ooc it’s bad have fun idc but i personally can’t handle ooc stuff and enjoy it since i have an extremely low ooc tolerance )
cmon guys i’m feeling like someone who hyper fixates on a random background character( respect to you guys idk how you do it) but he’s one of the most popular guys let Jax have a break
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Regressor Aether headcanons
+ a bunch of different caregivers
These also might be an excuse for me to share some of the ideas for fic's I have planned in my head.
tw: vent regression, meltdowns, general angst
~~~
~Wins the hearts of everyone and ends up with a bunch of caregivers and playmates across the land of teyvat. And how could he not? Sweetest little baby.
~90% of his regression is simply involuntarily, which is part of the reason why a lot of the people around him find out about it in the first place
~Vent regresses quite a bit, due to burnout, loneliness, pain, etc.
~Only a few very close people have dealt with him vent regressing. (mostly Mondstadt citizens tbh, Diluc, Kaeya, Lisa, though Xiao and Zhongli might have as well... Paimon is of course the exception) It comes as quite a shock to people when Aether breaks down sobbing over something minor when he usually is such an angel both normally and regressed.
~Beidou who would be the closest to find Aether vent regressed without meaning too. Noticing upon returning from his trip to Inazuma and coming back through the storms how much Aether is shaking and how young he's regressed compared to the times she's had the privilege of being the little's playmate.
~He doesn't want to play, doesn't talk, mostly hides and lets Paimon comfort him. And Beidou is very confused but never gets the chance to ask about, too worried about getting her ship through the storm, and by the time they make land Aether is gone
~Diluc and Kaeya look after him the most. They probably bicker a lot when he’s around though they try not to.
~But Kaeya pushes every one of Diluc's buttons. Carrying Aether around 90% of the time and being so smug about being the little one’s 'favorite'.
~Aether’s meanwhile in babyspace, sitting on Kaeya’s lap, playing with the floof of his caregiver’s cape because he likes the feeling of it and just oblivious to Diluc’s misery.
~Dainslief would 100% have taken care of Lumine regressed before in their travels together. He takes one look at Aether, who's regressed involuntary after the fleeting feeling of his sister being nearby, the rush of hope and then loss of it again, and instantly puts the pieces together that both twins must regress.
~I wouldn't say he tries to take care of Aether or anything, despite the way it's obvious that Aether isn't doing the best and could really use someone looking after him. He doesn't know Aether all that well and tells himself that it seems like Paimon's got it taken care of either way.
~But he's definitely more aware of the other, a bit protective and a bit softer with his words. Calling Aether a nickname, one he always used to call Lumine when she was small, by accident, (thinking like star shine or something else sweet) because old habits die hard and he nearly forgets that, 'no that's not Lumine, not his traveling partner, not his little, not his place.'
~Being told not to stim in public, or getting called out asking what he was doing. It wasn't a mean comment necessarily but it hurt. Not sure who would say it, maybe like Razor who genuinely is asking a question that's then taken the wrong way. Kind of like "Well don't do that. Draws attention." because he's anxious about being in public to begin with. Hmm not sure...
~It's something he masks a lot normally, but when he's small it's often times forgotten. He will be small and super happy, start stimming by shaking his hands, or tapping his palms together and have to force himself to stop because- that's weird, no one does that, quit it, you're just faking... which has gained him a couple of concerned looks from those around him who know him well enough
~Seeing as Paimon can't carry him, Aether takes to carrying her around like a stuffie instead as his own form of comfort. Also he’s just touch starved and likes having someone close.
~Paimon will complain about this, but decides inevitably that it's better than being seen as emergency food
~Speaking of emergency food, baby brain finds it hilarious to try and chew on her hair or her cape. One second she’s holding his hand the next she’s being bit.
~Venti upon finding out the Traveler regresses is like, 'Yeah I'm a great caregiver. ✨I've got this✨'
~He does not
~He ends up regressed alongside Aether and the two together unsupervised just spells trouble.
~Paimon has to go running to Diluc to come and get the two and stop them from causing a hurricane or something because they think it would be fun to play around with their powers. (Could also imagine Kaeya and Rosaria getting involved depending if they made their way over to the cathedral or not)
~Who needs storybooks when you have a dragon dad who's the equivalent of a living one?
~And yes Aether has gone all the way to Liyue from Mond in the span of one night because he couldn't fall asleep and wanted Zhongli to tell him a bedtime story. (It was that or going to Venti, but Venti's stories are usually a lot more lively and not the best to fall asleep to)
~Childe who wants so much to be Aether's big brother while he's small. Buys him a bunch of little gear, stuffed animals, toys, custom pacifiers, really anything he thinks of to try and win the little one's favor. He's is so sure that he's going to be Aether's favorite that he makes a bet with Zhongli over it. (If Diluc knew about this he would have a fit...)
~And Aether just- won't have anything to do with him small. He will either cry, or keep pushing Childe away and whining. He had a full meltdown once where he got overwhelmed enough to call Xiao. Easy to say that ended up in a fight and Zhongli having to step in to calm everybody down.
~His fits are mostly out of fear and distrust. Baby brain sees everything black and white and Childe confuses him more than anything because Childe should be the bad guy here.
~But on one hand he's always nice and he likes the idea of being doted on with little presents and being carried around, and Childe seems like the best big brother that Aether never had.
~But on the other hand their fights have scarred him mentally, and the fatui in general frightens him and he's scared that it's all an act that's going to crumble the moment he gets too attached.
~It takes awhile but he slowly opens up to the other, though only when someone else is around to ‘protect’ him. Probably Xiao. The adeptus wouldn’t trust Aether alone with Childe for a moment
~Xiao has been called multiple times on accident while Aether was small. He comes expecting a fight only to find a small and weepy baby who wants to be held.
~It's gotten to be a problem because the Traveler will refuse to call him when it really matters, like him being in danger, but baby brain will call out for him over something like a nightmare or feeling lonely and small, Xiao is terrible when it comes to anything dealing with delicate emotions.
#mayliz rambles#genshin impact agere#genshin agere#fandom agere#age regression#autistic agere#sfw agere#age regression headcanons#agere headcanons#vent regression#agere prompts#tried to color code some names to hopefully make it easier to group together ideas
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