#i have very little presence in this fandom
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I think my biggest gripe with this fandom is that so much is taken in bad faith. You like bucktommy? Youâre obviously racist. You like buddie? You obviously hate queer men. You want more mlm representation? Youâre being dismissive of the black lesbians on the show. You bring up said black lesbians even once to point out that the show has always had a queer presence? Youâre using tokenism to distract from the argument that representation on the show could be better.
Like, yes, people can be assholes sometimes, but sometimes itâs also not that deep. I wish people would just lighten up a little.
Yes. This is not strictly a fandom problem, though it's easier to see (and be exhausted by it) in such a microcosmic space. This is a societal problem and reflects the way that, on average, we have lost faith and trust in our fellow human beings. For whatever reason, we live in a society where we always expect the worst of each other. That's very sad, and it's certainly not a fulfilling way to engage with and navigate life. That's why, even if someone is being shitty to me, I try to at least ask why they feel the way they feel. Taking steps to understand each other, to break past that barrier of bad faith, is one of the easiest ways to heal and repair the social trust that has been broken. At least, that's what I think.
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Gosh I need to edit this more before I actually start posting but I'm just so excited so here's a preview of my wangxian OUAT au, featuring wwx as emma, lwj as regina, and ayuan as henry (though are veering far away from both canon in both cases so no need to be familiar with the show to enjoy)
----
The doorbell rings.
He blinks once, then twice. Wei Wuxian isnât normally one to get visitors, especially at this time of night. He tries to remember if thereâs a no-candle policy in his lease his landlord might nag him about when the doorbell rings again.
He scrambles to his feet and stumbles to the door, already preparing an apology for something he probably didnât know he wasnât supposed to do and another apology in case he did know. He opens the door and seesâŚ.nothing.
Until he hears a quiet cough and looks down to see a little boy.
At first, he thinks maybe heâs a trick-or-treater who got a bit lost, but Wei Wuxianâs building is secured with a key and callbox entry. Plus, although heâs been wandering streets alone since forever, heâs pretty sure a kid this young would have a chaperone with him. He looks behind the kid and doesnât see anyone else there.
But instead of asking something sensible like where his chaperone may be or even if the kidâs lost, he blurts, âHow did you get in?â
The boy tilts his head and replies, âThe front door. It wasnât locked, I just walked in.â
So much for secured entry. But that doesnât really answer why there is a human child at his door at nearly midnight. Thereâs definitely a law somewhere that says thatâs illegal, probably.
The kid, who canât be more than ten years old and really should have learned about stranger danger by now, beams up at him, as if technical breaking and entering is something to be proud of. Which, okay, maybe Wei Wuxian is kind of impressed by that.
âArenât you going to let me in?â the boy asks, his smile so sweet and unassuming that before Wei Wuxian even realizes it, heâs turned to the side and let the boy in.
The kid is wearing a blue puffy coat and carrying a white backpack that has homemade floppy ears made of felt that make it look like a bunny. They bounce up and down as the boy walks inside and slips his shoes off. Wei Wuxian very maturely resists the urge to tug on those floppy bunny ears, though only just.
Shoes off, his socks patterned with fluffy white clouds, the boy turns back around to look up at Wei Wuxian. His entire face beams up at him as if he were a sunflower facing the sun, which wow what an ego-boost. Heâs got dimples, little baby dimples that are very cute and look very pinchable but that doesnât matter because there is a baby in his house! And okay heâs at least ten years old but regardless why is there a whole entire child in his apartment? What is one supposed to do when some random kid shows up at their doorstep and invites themselves in?
âOh shit uh, wait not shit,â Wei Wuxian stammers. âShit, sorry. Um. A drink, you want a drink?â
Ask the random child if they want something to drink, apparently. Perfect.
The kid nods, still giving him that doe-eyed look. Wei Wuxian doesnât have much by way of child-friendly beverage options, but he wasnât exactly expecting something like this tonight. He settles on milk that looks like it hasn't gone too bad yet. Besides, expired milk builds immunity and character in children, that's how it works, right? He pours a glass for the kid, making sure to give him the cleanest one even though thereâs a tiny crack on the surface.
He guides the kid over to the coffee table and hands him the milk. The kid takes the glass and sinks onto the deflated beanbag while Wei Wuxian perches on the edge of the couch. He grabs a can of beer from the six-pack still on the floor beside the table and takes a sip. Wait, is that allowed? Can he drink alcohol in front of children?
The kid doesnât seem to care. He takes a tentative sip of his milk and makes a very polite face that fails to mask his disgust, before putting the glass down on the table next to the forgotten cupcake. Fair, itâs nice to see him asserting boundaries and all that.
"Okay," Wei Wuxian says, amused despite the situation. "Who are you and why are you in my house atâ" he checks his phone for the time"âfive minutes to midnight on a Friday night?"
The kid doesn't answer right away. His eyes are still focused on the cupcake, but in a way he probably thinks is sneaky. Wei Wuxian tilts his head to get a better look and sure enough, thereâs a furrow between his eyebrows like the kid is trying really hard to ask a difficult question. After a minute, it becomes clear he hasnât worked out a nice enough way to ask, but itâs a good thing Wei Wuxian knows enough about being a hungry child to recognize one.
He nudges the cupcake over to him and says, "Help yourself." Immediately, the kid grabs the cupcake with all the care in the world, like itâs a priceless artifact and promptly devours it. Wei Wuxian canât help but smile as he eats. Suddenly the cheap cupcake feels like an excellent choice.
When the kid finishes licking the last bits of frosting and crumbs off his fingers, he sits politely with his hands in his lap and looks longingly toward the kitchen. Heâs still too nice to ask forthright, but Wei Wuxian knows better and he isn't a monster.
Wei Wuxian gets up and opens one of the cabinets to look for something thatâs probably child-appropriate, pulling out a bag of his least spicy chips. Chips are made of potatoes which are vegetables which means itâs probably not that bad for kids. Either way, the kid takes the bag gratefully and eats the chips with relish, even though theyâre definitely way too spicy for someone his age.
âAlright, alright. Youâve been fed. Now tell me, who are you?â he asks again, though he canât stop the tiniest bit of fondness from creeping into his tone. Itâs just that everything this kid does is so cute! He canât help himself!
The kid stops eating and tries to speak, but what comes out instead are the quietest little coughs Wei Wuxianâs ever heard. Heâs been eating these spicy snacks and slowly turning as red as they are, but heâs so polite he hasnât said a thing about them.
All at once, Wei Wuxian realizes he likes this kid, despite knowing practically nothing about him. Itâs strange. He hates the kids the customers at his job will bring sometimes, especially when their parents just let them loose like it's a daycare and not a coffee shop. Wei Wuxian isnât mean or anything, itâs just that wrangling kids is way above his pay grade. He didnât even get along with other kids when he was a kid. All the other foster kids stood clear of him pretty much as soon as the social worker told his foster parents he was known for being âemotionally dysregulatedâ and labeling him a problem child.
But this kid is different from all the others, even though Wei Wuxian canât quite put his finger on whatâs so special about him. He seems like the kind of kid who would politely ask for steamed oat milk and say thank you, then ask his parents to let him give Wei Wuxian the tip. When he finishes, heâd probably throw his trash out without anyone asking and call goodbye to him one last time before he leaves. Even just imagining it makes Wei Wuxian feel wistful for something heâs never really wanted before.
It doesnât help that this kidâs got what must be the fluffiest hair he's ever seen, and those dimples! It takes all of Wei Wuxianâs self-control to keep himself from pinching those chubby cheeks.
He doesnât quite succeed and leans forward anyway to ruffle the kid's hair. "Ask for water, you silly,â he says, already standing and heading back to the kitchen.
When he hands him the glass, the kid just looks up at Wei Wuxian with his big, bright brown eyes filled with wonder. Heâs looking at Wei Wuxian like he has the answer to everything. Wei Wuxian doesn't, but it's nice to feel like someone thinks he knows what he's doing.
The kid drinks half the glass before clearing his throat and finally answering Wei Wuxianâs question. âIâm Sizhui, but you can call me A-Yuan. Or even Little Radish, if you want! You called me that before.â He says it all in one breath, practically vibrating with energy by the end.
Wei Wuxian pauses in the middle of taking a sip of his beer. Heâs not sure why he would ever call anyone a radish, and heâs pretty sure heâs never met this kid before. Does A-Yuan have mistaken him for someone else? Could this kid have some weird memory loss, except one where he gains fake memories instead of losing them? Itâs definitely not the strangest thing about this whole situation.
Like all problems Wei Wuxian doesnât know how to deal with, he decides to ignore that for now and asks, âOkay, A-Yuan then, why are you here?â
âBecause,â A-Yuan starts, leaning forward and looking at Wei Wuxian with all the seriousness someone pre-puberty could possibly possess. âI need your help.â
ââŚOkayâŚâ Wei Wuxian replies. The world must truly be fucked if someone is coming to him for help. He hasnât had a vegetable in a week, unless pizza actually does count. âWhat do you need help with?â
Heâs expecting the kid to say something normal like âmy homeworkâ or âgetting to the train stationâ, you know, normal things a kid would ask a stranger to help him with.
Heâs not expecting A-Yuan to respond gravely, âTo save the world and everyone we love.â
Wei Wuxian blinks, speechless. A-Yuan doesnât seem to notice, continuing to speak as he lifts his backpack onto his lap and rummages through its contents. âMy familyâs in trouble, our family. Everyone we know is, and youâre the only one who can fix it. Look here, see, Iâve got this book, itâs all written here. Thereâs a curse thatâs affecting everyone and we need to break it.â
He plops the book down on the coffee table. Itâs not at all what Wei Wuxian expects. Itâs hand-bound, with a simple red fabric cover thatâs blank except for the title thatâs written in Chinese calligraphy. Itâs written entirely in Chinese, in fact, completely by hand with the same impeccable calligraphy. Inside are what appear to be a bunch of stories or folktales. There are beautiful gongbi illustrations on every other page, inked in bright colors with an incredible level of detail.
Wei Wuxian canât help but be impressed. The book is something he would expect to see at a museum or in a period drama, not on his coffee table with its chipped surface and water stains. Â
A-Yuan flips to a picture of a man with long hair dressed in black and red robes. Heâs playing a flute as shadows dance and twist around his frame. Then tendrils lift high into the sky and block out the sun. Heâs standing on a pile of human bones, to really sell the whole villain energy this guyâs got.
A-Yuan points at the guy. âThatâs you, you see?â
Wei Wuxian does not see, heâs pretty sure he would have noticed if his body was covered in shadows. Also, he would need way more conditioner for that length of hair.
The kid continues, interpreting Wei Wuxianâs stunned silence as something else entirely. âYouâre the only one who can help them, who can save us all.â A-Yuan thrusts the scroll out to Wei Wuxian, whoâs too floored to do much more than take it from him. âSo, Iâm here to bring you back.â
Wei Wuxian has to admit, the guy in the picture does look pretty badass. But itâs still just a drawing, and thereâs little to suggest this looks anything like him at all.
He glances up. A-Yuan smile is so bright and excited that Wei Wuxian wishes he could feel his excitement too. The guy in the picture does look super cool, like someone heâd want to dress up as when he was A-Yuanâs age.
But all he feels is concern and confusion. Before, he was actually starting to enjoy spending time with this kid, but something is wrong, though itâs not what A-Yuan thinks. Thereâs a random kid in his apartment late at night, making up stories. And whether he likes it or not, Wei Wuxian is the adult here. He has to remember that.
âIâm sorry, kid,â he says, and the smile slowly drops from A-Yuanâs face and Wei Wuxian feels like the absolute worst person on the planet for doing that to him. âBut I donât know what this is, or who you are. I want to help, youâve just gotta give me some actual answers. Where are your parents? Do they know where you are?â
A-Yuan looks down and mumbles, âI was so sure youâd remember if you saw this, if you held it.â He tightens the hands on his knees into fists and looks up at him with a startling conviction. âBut that doesnât matter. I know it, I know who you are. Youâre Wei Wuxian. This is you. And youâre the only person who can save us.â
Wei Wuxian rubs his temples and contemplates chugging the remainder of his beer. He holds it in his hand, wishing heâd gotten another pack. âLook, I donât know how you know my name, maybe you saw it on some mail outside or something, butâ"
"You're my dad!â A-Yuan hastily interrupts. âThatâs why, thatâs how I know!"
Wei Wuxian drops the can. There's a splash of something spilling all over the carpet and he should probably make sure itâs not too bad. He's too busy trying to figure out how he could have a ten-year-old at twenty-five when he was definitely still a virgin at fifteen.
The initial shock slips away, leaving him only more confused. He raises an eyebrow at A-Yuan, willing him to explain.
"Not my real dad," A-Yuan says, rolling his eyes like somehow Wei Wuxian is the one claiming something impossible. "But you're my dad in every way that counts."
Wei Wuxian wishes he hadn't dropped his drink. He'd really like to take a sip of it now. And several more, maybe the rest of the cans, too.
This day needs to end. He should have stayed home and drank his way to oblivion, so heâd have been too far gone to answer the door in the first place.
TBC
#i need to remind myself it's okay if no one reads this#i have very little presence in this fandom#but im so excited for this au#mdzs#wangxian#mdzs fanfiction#mo dao zu shi#the untamed#wei wuxian#a-yuan#wen yuan#bushy writing#i need to throw this in the void and then not think about this post ever again sgfsdfjs#this first chapter is 10k words by the way which tells me its only going to get worse#apparently my idea of short preview is 2000 words oops#also i only did a cursery read through and brief error check so if there's something glaringly bad please tell me#im hoping to have the first chapter up sometime in the next week if you want to follow me on ao3!#okay now im gonna go melt away#how obvious is it that i haven't shared my writing with anyone else in over a year
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i'm actually so surprised that in the many years of Siivagunner existing, they haven't made a single Jetpack Joyride rip yet. like. there are so many stupid jokes and mashups you could make with it. they've made plenty of rips of mobile games like Angry Birds and Subway Surfers, so it's kinda shocking that there aren't any Jetpack Joyride rips considering it's one of the most recognisable mobile games ever.
#siivagunner#jetpack joyride#high quality rips#i'm not like. telling them what to do#i'm just surprised is all. like you're telling me there's so much shitpost potentially for the jj theme and there's not a single siiva rip?#there's not much shitpostery on youtube about jj in general apart from ''[insert character here] dancing to the jj theme''#(which are videos i'm not really a big fan of personally because they're all the same thing)#jetpack joyride is kind of in a weird place where the game is very well-known but there's almost no content of it#like it's popular but with how little content exists of it beyond the fandom and the occasional meme you wouldn't really think that?#idk i think it's odd that jetpack joyride doesnt really have a very big presence in shitposting considering its potential#anyway yeah. siivagunner making a jetpack rip would be really cool and awesome i think đđ
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hey. hope this message doesn't bother you. I love you. I love your work. you are one of my favorite fic authors, I am absolutely obsessed with everything you write. reread everything ten times over, drarry or not, fluffy or angsty - even when it absolutely shatters my heart (e.g. for lack of wanting, SUCH a great fic btw i'm so obsessed with it). the four doors? life changing. two to lie and one to listen? engraved into my brain for eternity. what's mine is yours? what a ride holy shit, im VERY normal about it. wrapped? my comfort read. and so it goes.
if I could aggressively smother you with kudos and love I WOULD!!!
awhile ago you said that there's no such thing as "big deals" in fandom and I 100% agree but at the same time you are a big deal TO ME!!! not in the sense of any kind of hierarchy but purely based on the fact that I think you are such a cool person and your writing is amazing and poignant and your presence in fandom makes it so much better. it's been a pleasure following you here on tumblr and just reading your tags and posts.
idk I just think you rule. that's it. thank you for hanging with us. MWAH đ
ahhhh anon sorry for leaving this message sitting in my inbox for a couple of days but !! i have zero idea how to react to this!! you're so kind!! thank you!! please discard any and all inclinations u have that i am a cool person bc i can assure you i am NOT!!
#tumblr tag essay time? tumblr tag essay time#why can't i do this in the main body of a post u ask? pure obnoxiousness ig idk#scarier when it's not greyed out and in a little whisper innit#1) anon i love and appreciate you + your kind words so so much but i rly cannot stress enough that literally nobody here is a big deal đ#like i know u don't mean it in That Way but even so!!!#this is a hill i could write another 1k words about before i die on it again but i will spare u đ
#2) ur also v v kind to say the thing abt my presence in fandom#but unfortunately i'm coming to terms with the fact that my presence in fandom is v much on the sidelines#a non-presence#i'm embracing my role as the crotchety old hag who does not attend the functions#i have a hut in the woods and u can find me there (here in tumblr tags) muttering to myself#occasionally i'll wander into the town square (ao3) and present an unnerving thing i made from mud and twigs (a fic) and then i'll fuck off#that's about all i can handle in terms of group settings i think đ
#but the door to my hut (my DMs) is always open if u want to stop by!#3) i can't even begin to acknowledge all the nice things u said about my fics kjhsdf you are truly too generous đ#let me smother YOU with love!!! cmere!!!#4) this is the second nice anon message i've had in the last couple weeks which is !!!!#anon(s) i'm kissing you wherever u consent to be kissed!!!#but ofc now i'm paranoid ppl will think i'm sending these to myself skdljf#can't stress enough how open my DMs are on here/twt/discord if ever u wanna chat in a way that i don't have to post publicly to reply to đ
#5) i'm soooo sorry about these tags#could have just said âthanks!â couldn't i#please put me right in the bin#anyway sorry again thank you again ilu very much â¤ď¸
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what's with tumblr banning all these transwomen? What the fuck is wrong with this site?
#shit like this is what's making me want to give up and leave#I have very little other social media presence#but between it being awful to post art here#full of cliquey fandoms populated by school bully type posters#and staff nuking transwomen out of orbit#plus. rampant nazis. always been a problem here#I'm not even sure any of this is fun anymore
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Hi I love your art, feel like Iâve seen it somewhere beforeâŚwould you happen to be corner-critter who did the Hermitcraft-Empires crossover animatic?
lmao yes yes i am my main is @cornercritter (no hyphen) hi i should probably make an intro post or something one of these days
#i have very little idea of the extent of my presence on this site and in the fandom so any acknowledgement of me or my art is like#O_O me?#hellu o/#asks#not a daily
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(committing to the worst possible use of my time) I'm sick of the misogyny i am going to create a Cerseissance on reddit.
#i need to stop cersei posting on there cos its genuinely gross to see how happy every is with the idea shes intended to be read as#''just a stupid bitch''#like come on. are we really doing this. STILL.#unclamp from the jaime dickriding and have a little reread maybe#this is btw another thing i will HAPPILY lay at the feet of the terf presence in asoiaf fandom#that very specific brainrot that makes people act like a MAN couldn't POSSIBLY be writing about misogyny to the degree that martin is#its poison lol#literally nothing hes writing about is even groundbreaking! hes a very good writer but this is a WELL trodden path#its ridiculous that people will talk themselves *out* of seeing it đĽ´
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Come Home
Pairing - Sylus x f!MC
Summary - Sylus has headed out to deal with some business, leaving you concerned for him as he doesnât return when he told you he would. Fluff and a bit of angst. Sylus and MC arenât yet in a relationship.
Word count - 2k
A/N - Hi! This is my first little one shot for LADS, and I hope you enjoy it. I do accept requests and look forward to writing more for this fandom đ¤
It had been hours since you last heard from him.
You tried to tell yourself that you didnât need to worry. That he was more than capable and has always returned in one piece. That your worry is wasted on him anyway, considering the fact that you werenât even supposed to like him.
But you felt sick.
It was almost impossible not to be concerned. No matter where he was or what he was doing, he has always been reachable. Youâve tried his phone so many times that the battery eventually gave up on your futile attempts and went to sleepâwhich is what you should be doing at this hour.Â
Mephisto had accompanied him on his outing, Luke and Kieran staying at the base with you under Sylusâs orders. They didnât seem at all bothered by the fact that it was currently three hours past the time Sylus had told them heâd be back. They know him better than you do, but their constant reassurance did little to soothe the panic starting to show.
âPlease,â you practically beg. âI have this awful feeling that something has happened to him. Please go and look for him.â
Kieran groaned at her, tired of having to repeat himself once more. âWe already told you.â
âBossâs orders are non-negotiable,â Luke chimes in from where heâs lounging in an armchair.
âHeâd have our heads as soon as we walked out the door.â
You were becoming more irritated each second by their nonchalant attitude. They didnât even seem to give a shit, and you werenât currently in the right mindset to delve into why you gave so much of a shit.
He was a criminal. A man who had such questionable intentions and motives that you didnât even want to know the bare minimum of what he got up to whenever he headed out alone.
If something had happened to him, however, you wanted names.
As poorly as your acquaintance with him had begun, you found him to be more intriguing with every moment spent in his presence. His likes and dislikes, his attentive nature whenever youâre around, the way he chooses a vinyl record based on the type of mood heâs inâeven the way he dresses has you analysing his every six feet and two inches of pure, solid muscle.
He wasnât bad on the eye, especially when he was looking at you. You couldnât fully figure it out, but there was a very subtle tenderness to his presence when he was around you. Subtle in a way that didnât overshadow his ability to be the biggest asshole youâd ever met.
âIf you keep pacing like that then Iâm going to throw up,â Luke complains.
You shoot him a harsh glare. âIf you donât like it then get out and find your boss,â you grit back.
With an exaggerated huff, he pulls himself out of his seat, stretching his arms over his head. You feel a glimmer of hope, only for it to be shot down almost immediately. âIâll let you know if I pass by him in my dreams,â he teases, walking out of the lounge and towards his own room.
You wanted to drag him back and push him out of the front door, but the man could probably put you to sleep with a snap of his skilled fingers. Instead, you growl angrily as his chuckles sound from the hallway.
Kieran stood up, too, mimicking his twin with his stretching. He paused for a moment, and you waited for his addition to his brother's teasing.
âHeâll be back,â he assured, surprising you. âIf heâs not back by morning, weâll figure something out. Just go to sleep.â
He doesnât wait for a response from you as he follows after Luke, both of them turning in for the night. Sleep sounded like pure bliss, but you werenât going to be able to do so.
You couldnât even sit down, your legs automatically taking you around every single piece of furniture so many times that you were starting to get dizzy.Â
âPlease come back,â you chanted quietly to yourself quietly, if only to keep your pacing on track and your mind alert.Â
âPlease come back. Please come back.â
You werenât sure how long it had been, but as soon as you heard the front door, you bolted for it on unsteady legs.
He came in quietly, which was completely overshadowed by your crashing into things on your way to get a visual on him. You practically fell through the door that led to the entry hall, where he looked only mildly bewildered and wholly amused.
There were no visual signs of any injury, but light blood splatters dotted across his white shirt, indicating an altercation. Mephisto sat happily on his shoulder, cawing as soon as he laid his mysterious little red eyes on you. The damn bird was never too happy whenever you were around.
Sylus raised an eyebrow at you. âExpecting someone?âÂ
That asshole.
He dropped off the face of the earth for hours, and had the audacity to greet you with sarcasm.Â
Before your brain could warn you about the threat of putting your hands on him, you sprang forward, striking his chest with the palm of your hand. Then again. And again.
It was pathetically weak from your exhaustion, and he didnât so much as blink as you assaulted his blood-spattered shirt. Mephisto, however, took to fighting back immediately, pecking at your hands and screeching.
Sylus shooed him away quickly, and the mechanical crow reluctantly took his leave. He proceeded to just stand there as his winged companion flew away, entirely unbothered by your outburst.
Your movements were quickly faltering, the already feeble slaps to his torso becoming far and few between. Still, he did not move. Did not speak. He was the most feared man in the N109 Zone, and he was letting you lash out on him.
Your hand finally stopped on the lapel of his coat, gripping it for a second to catch your breath. He waited for you to finally take a step back, your arms crossing over your chest immediately so you could fully close in on yourself. You were certain that your little outburst was going to bring some repercussions.
Unable to fight it, your bottom lip started to tremble. You had been walking around that lounge for so long that you had convinced yourself he was not coming back. That the wrong person had finally found him and gotten the better of him.
And you just know what he wouldâve said if you indulged him in that speculation. What a silly little thought, sweetie.
He closed the space between you, your head automatically dropping to avoid his crimson gaze. You couldnât bear it, the anticipation of what he was going to do. Your ass was likely headed back to Linkon on foot.
Warm fingers curled beneath your chin, lifting your gaze back up to his. He was towering over you, but you strangely didnât feel intimidated. All you could feel was his warmth, and your wave of emotions crashing into their withering barrier.
His face gave nothing away as he studied you, still holding your trembling chin between his thumb and forefinger. âAre you finished?â
He didnât ask it sarcastically. He was giving you an opening. If you werenât, heâd allow you to resume until you got it all out of your system.
But you were done, your arms feeling like jelly to the point that crossing them was taking a big effort from you. You nod, feeling wetness pooling in your eyes. This all felt ridiculous. He didnât owe you phone calls or explanations, you both barely considered each other friends.Â
The surprisingly soft pad of his thumb brushed gently across your shaking lip, his eyes following the movement. âIâm sorry.â
In any other circumstance, those two words would have shocked you enough to make you fall over. But you were a little too far on the delusional side of exhaustion, your body running on the fumes of your panic.
Your eyes flicker away, the wetness tipping over the edge and dripping off of your lashes. He turned your drifting head back to him to lock eyes with you again. He never did like it when you broke his gaze.
âThings got a bit out of hand,â he explained quietly, not needing an explanation for why you were so upset. âYou shouldnât worry.â
âI wasnât,â you lie, earning an amused chuckle from him.
He brushed his knuckle across your cheek to rid you of your tears. âNo? Why else would a kitten get her claws out, then? Did Luke and Kieran forget to feed you?â
You scoffed at his teasing, following his lead back into the ease of your strange companionship. âTheyâre terrible babysitters,â you say, sniffling away the last of your upset.Â
He smirked, moving his hand to cup the back of your neck. He pulled you towards him, embracing you gently with a deep inhale. You almost swore he was smelling your hair, but you shut that thought down. It was far too complicated for such a tired mind to dwell over.
It wasnât the first time youâve both embraced, but this instance did feel quite different. It felt comforting, rather than nerve wracking. Nobody embraces a man like Sylus without at least a modicum of fear beneath the surface.
âYou could have called,â you whispered. âOrâŚor at least answered my calls.â
He sighed, the blow of breath tickling your hairline. âThere isnât a good signal where I went tonight,â he explains. âI should have mentioned that. I didnât want to call once I did have service in case you were sleeping. I apologise.â
An overwhelming warmth filled your chest, different to the one emanating off of his body. You look up at him, lifting a hand to his forehead. He humours you by allowing it, his eyes trained on yours as you felt the cool skin beneath the hair falling over his face.
âAre you coming down with something? Youâve apologised to me twice now,â you say, half serious.
He didnât laugh or tease, his face slipping back into that easy nonchalant expression. âI assure you, Iâm not coming down with anything. I could ask you the same thing, though. Since when did you become a worrier, kitten?â
You didnât know how to answer that. It was something you yourself had to figure out. Caring for him wasnât on your bingo cards when you first met. If anything, the very first day you met, youâd have been relieved if he hadnât returned.
âDonât get used to it,â you murmur, his smirk returning at your half-assed response.
âIâll try, but I do get attached,â he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear. He looks as though heâs contemplating something, and it takes a moment before he speaks again. âIâll get us some better communication devices. Something you can carry around that I can alert you on.â
A slight sense of guilt washed over you. âNo, itâs okay. You donât need to be concerned about my insecurities, I shouldnât be keeping tabs on you.â
Sylus shook his head, his mind already made up. He taps a finger against your temple. âMy concern about what goes on in there is for me to deal with. If some better technology eases your troubles, then it eases mine too.â
There it was. That side of him that kept you so very intrigued and made you feel a sense ofâŚhome? He often used words that didnât m quite mean the same as his intentions, but you could see it in him.
He cares.
He rubs a firm hand up and down your back before turning you around, lightly pushing you away from the front door.
âItâs about time we got some sleep,â he says, barely above a whisper.Â
You let him guide you through the halls, his lips dropping to your ear as he whispered again.
âFeel free to monitor me.â
#love and deepspace#Sylus#sylus oneshot#sylus fanfic#sylus fanfiction#sylus x mc#sylus x reader#sylus x you#l&ds sylus#lnds sylus#love and deepspace imagine#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#love and deepspace mc#love and deepspace luke#love and deepspace kieran#luke and kieran#lads mc#sylus angst#sylus fluff
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Ok so I watched the interview with Stephen Rooney, Astarion's writer, and here are some highlights. (I'm an aspiring writer and current game design student who wants to write for games so I'm sorry if some of these insights aren't as interesting to you as they are to me <3)
He calls Astarion his "horrible little vampire boy"
He loves seeing the fandom around Astarion<3
He did write other characters in the game, but mostly NPCs surrounding Astarion or his storyline, so it mostly revolved around Astarion
Astarion is not as connected to other companions/Origins as, for example, Lae'zel and Shadowheart, or Wyll and Karlach are to each other, but he is still reactive to their stories, even if it's just to stand off to the side and laugh when something terrible happens
He had a clear sense of where Astarion's story would start and end, but it got "muddy in the middle", but those are also moments where the best ideas come from
They write from the general idea that every character has one "good" and one "evil" ending, in order to give the player choice. RIP Ascendant apologists :(
According to Stephen, two of the most important aspects of Astarion's character (to keep consistent when bringing him to Idle Champions, at least) is that he enjoys violence, but is also fun about it
"He has a certain appreciation for violence, I guess? A bit of a murdery streak. [...] He's a vampire, he's all about blood, and he's all about, kind of, those darker sides of humanity. [..] But at the same time, he is ... He is really fun, he's really fun to write, he's really fun to have in your party, and it's very important for me that that is also represented."
"He's gonna stab you, but will have a smile on his face as he does it? I mean, I dunno. That's kind of him in a nutshell."
Larian would not have allowed for Astarion to be a typical brooding Dracula type, and there were scenes that were shot down for not being original enough
The main thing about Astarion was trying to get a "sense of fun." It would be easy to write a character that was very unlikable, and they absolutely did not want to do that
Rooney says Astarion is consistently terrible throughout the game and awful in a whole lot of ways, but he also needed to be charming enough that you could tolerate his presence and wanted him around
Rooney also had a lot of input on Astarion's stats (meaning the 10 Charisma is probalby 100% intentional)
He also had input on how certain lines should be delivered, even though the writers didn't directly work with voice actors
The way Astarion moves and poses is "all Neil"
Apparently, Neil Newbon worked on the character for years and Rooney did not speak to him once, though his voice work did influence how Astarion's lines were written and it became a "feedback loop" (Possible context for "ONLY SLIGHTLY, NEIL")
There were no points where a line delivery drastically changed Astarion's writing; rather it was a constant, slow evolution
However, there was one very spoilery moment where Neil gave such emotion to some "basic" lines that it fundamentally changed the scene (WHAT IS IT OMG)
It's difficult to balance approval, as you don't want to straight up write a monster. Every character needs to have some humanity in them. So if it comes to leaving the party, it needed to be the result of something central to said character. They wanted to be mindful of situations that would cause actual rifts between characters. (I assume this is why most generic disapprovals/approvals are +/- 1 or 2, while character-related ones give +/-5 or more)
However, as they don't write straight up horrible people/monsters, it doesn't come up as often as one might think.
The interviewer makes a point about how characters like Astarion and Lae'zel are good examples of how to play "evil" characters, as they are maybe not the best people but are still eager and willing to stick around the other party members
They worked to make sure the characters would work as a group, no matter the configuration of the group. The characters needed to be on the same path, even if they don't always agree or walk that path the same way.
Stephen Rooney is very proud of the "climactic" scene of Astarion's story. (AS HE SHOULD BE.) He even had to step away from the computer and have an emotional moment. Me too, man.
He's also "extremely pleased" that there's a point where you can punch Astarion in the face. "Actually, that one might be my favorite part" A MAN OF THE PEOPLE!!
Stephen Rooney's tip on what specific thing you should try out with Astarion: When he's trying to get a "sneaky nibble" at night, you should "probably" let him bite you. Way ahead of you there, sir.
No discussion about Astarion's romance unfortunately, but that's that!
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#astarion#anyway ... after dragon age it feels so mindblowing to have writers who aren't apologists for their characters
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belated add-on but i dont even understand why im STILL getting hate on here when i toned down my "controversial" (aka literally just harmless mildly unpopular opinions about anime characters) posts MONTHS ago after having a legitimate breakdown over the way people were treating me on here â ď¸
so very sorry for um... *checks notes* having an opinion about anime characters that you disagreed with a few months ago
i think its weird that i have to make this disclaimer but the internet is crazy so wtvr,, anyway,,
if i say i dont like something, that doesnt mean "that thing is bad and nobody should post it.."
i swear literally every time i even mention that i dislike something, people will go "wow does that mean u fucking hate me cuz i post that thing? ur a fucking stupid bitch and all ur opinions r wrong" LIKE ?? er.. no. just because i say i dont like certain characterizations of certain characters (the saiki k fandom is CRAZY about this cuz i can state an opinion on literally any character and a group of people will still go 'well only we're allowed to post our opinions about them because we're always right!1!1!'), or certain ship tropes (mentioned my hatred of toxic yaoi maybe once or twice on here months ago and people STILL get mad at me as if i said toxic yaoi lovers r evil or something), or certain ships, or WHATEVER, does not mean that i HATE the people who are posting them or that i think they shouldnt post them at all, NO, im just posting about my personal tastes on my personal blog and it would be extremely weird and hypocritical if i decided that i was the ONLY person that was allowed to do that,,
i think the only reason people assume that is because there are a lot of other people on here who ARE like that, and a lot of people toe the line between posting that they dont like something and posting that they think everyone who likes that thing is stupid, annoying, and wrong,, so i guess all i can say is, sorry for whatever made you make these assumptions but they arent true about me so plz leave me alone ĘâżĘ ur doing the same thing to me that ur accusing me of but i didnt do it in the first place so ur just actively being a dick for no reason
#there actually are things i said on here a while ago that i regret and feel guilty about#briefly said that in the tags before but yk#this is my first fandom and my first time having a presence on tumblr so i was pretty stupid at first#but literally not one person ever tried to talk to me and instead made crazy assumptions about me and started harassing or making fun of me#but anyway im not trying to blame anyone for this btw#im very aware that its pretty silly to get so upset over people having one sided tumblr beef with me lolZ#but honestly at the time the harassment started i was just getting so many death threats and people calling me the r slur#and i was so detached from it cuz it was all anonymous ppl who didnt care to even talk to me about it instead so like why should i care yk?#but then other things happened and regardless of what it was-#it put it into perspective for me that there really arent that many people in this fandom and those harassing me couldve been anyone here#idk it was weird i went a little crazy and i think the tone of my posts shifted a lot from then on#sadly. i miss how it was before#autistic girls r literally not allowed to just exist on the internet i swear#allistic people will always jump to conclusions and assume intent behind your words that isnt there#and theyll refuse to communicate instead of acting like middle school bullies#okie thats all i had to say baii
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omg hello!! I saw you post those vox headcanons and wow I was literally kicking my feet and giggling LOL. I also saw you take requests right now! (at least thatâs what it said in your rules) and I wanted to request something : D
could I request general alastor headcanons with a GN! Reader please ? :D
Thank you!
General Dating Headcanons | Alastor
a/n: Of course my dear!! I love how Alastor is portrayed in the series, heâs easily one of my favorite characters! Iâve been wanting to do these for quite a bit, so thank you for the request!
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Wordcount: 1991
Cw: Hazbin Spoilers, minor violence, mentions of death, murder
(PLATONIC):
Ah so you managed to capture the attention of the infamous Radio Demon? You should be honored he even considers you worth his time! Not most demons have that luxury, they never live long enough to see.
Al strikes me as the kind of guy who knows everyone, heâs very observant and has eyes everywhere (his shadow friends extend throughout the entirety of the pride ring). Heâs got connections in just about anything. Heâs bound to have at least seen you once.
That being said, he views other sinners as inferior to him, if you don't have any power, he doesn't really see you as much of a threat (letâs be honest even if you did, he still wouldn't feel threatened)
Heâs quite intrigued when he sees a frail little thing like you walk through the hotel doors. You're here on your own free will, seeking redemption? Oh, this will be quite entertaining.
Youâre well aware of who he is, having been in hell for quite some time, even before his 7 yearlong disappearance, you knew to be wary in his presence.
It often left you being timid or skittish around him at first.
The deer demon had a knack for popping up at the most inconvenient of times, out of nowhere it seems (perks of being able to shadow travel). He would scare the daylights out of you nearly every time. Whether it was intentional or not, it always got a good laugh out of him.
And that smileâŚHe was always smiling, you can't ever recall a moment where he wasn't, not even a falter. It's definitely an intimidation tactic you think. After all, you're never fully dressed without one!~
Despite this, heâs a charmer. He has this flare about him that oozes confidence whenever he speaks with you, to anyone really. Heâs able to talk his way into and out of anything. One of the many perks of being a showman. Alastor is witty, charming and entertaining to say the least. Life is never dull with him around.
And if you happen to be from the same time period?? Itâll only want him to be around you even more! Finally, someone he can relate to in this cesspool.
This man is quite the chatterbox. He looooves to reminisce about the good olâ days, always talking about how things were in his radio days. He could talk for literal hours and not break a sweat. Youâll often have to politely interject when he rambles on for too long, not that he minds.
Did I mention he can cook too?? Really well, surprisingly. He claims he learned from his dearest mother. He had to put a name to her famous Jambalaya recipe! When you tried it for the first time your socks were nearly blown right off from how much cayenne pepper he put into it. He likes a little spice.
He's!! Always!! Humming!! The man loves to sing, he often finds himself absentmindedly humming old tunes from the 20âs as he goes about his day. Whether heâs out for a stroll, enjoying a nice cup of tea, or running around the hotel, heâs humming.
This has been stated before, but Alastor is not big on physical touch from others unless he's the one initiating it. There have been many times where heâs pulled you into a little dance or twirl while he explains something. It never fails to surprise you each time.
Heâll often use his microphone staff to push or touch something, more specifically someone. He doesn't like to touch sinners that often, God knows where theyâve been. Youâve seen him whack Angel upside the head with it before, the spider tried getting a little too close for comfort. But for you heâll make an exception.
Very well groomed!! He puts a lot of effort into his appearance, and cares about how he projects himself to the public eye. His hair is always neatly styled to perfection, shoes shined, and is always dressed to the nines. I mean did you see how mad he got when Pentious ripped a part of his coat off?
As the two of you begin to spend some more time together, you find yourself often having little meetups, the both of you would chat, share a cup of tea and just enjoy each otherâs company. He liked to sit on the patio, he had a little table, and everything set up for you two.
Alastor makes sure to keep an eye on you regularly. He may have his shadow sneak around and stalk you while you're out. Heâll use the excuse that âHell is a dangerous place!â, He can't have some low-life sinner trying to harm you, that would make him a terrible friend!
Undeniably has a soft spot for you that heâll never admit aloud, he genuinely enjoys your company and likes having someone around that will humor him and listen to his stories. Grandpa.
Overall, Al is quite a good friend to have, you feel like you can confide in him at any point, heâs surprisingly a wonderful listener. The more time you spend together only strengthens your little friendship. Even to the point where you both will grow to have a mutual respect for each other. He initially scared you at first, given his reputation, but underneath all the ruthless chaos is a true gentleman.
(ROMANTIC):
My man is sooo conflicted at first, Heâll spend hours in his den thinking about his feelings. (Weâve all seen the inside of his room, literally half of it is a swamp). The scenery can only soothe him so much as he contemplates on what to do.
This is probably where you will begin to less and less of him for a time being as he works out his inner turmoil.
But, once he finally comes to terms with these undeniable feelings, he decides to confront you privately, away from any prying eyes. Ahem AngelâŚ
Very old-fashioned, this is where he will properly ask to court you.Â
Youâll never know this but he was actually kind of nervous, he was worried youâd reject his offer, but imagine to his surprise when you said yes!! He kind of felt giddy.
Congratulations! You now have a cannibalistic deer overlord as your boyfriend
Heâs such a gentleman, I literally cannot say it enough, the man was raised right and he respects you!Â
You literally never have to open a door with him around. He holds your chair out for you, always walks on the outer side of the sidewalk, pays for every meal and is constantly giving you compliments left and right. And they say chivalry is dead.
Alastor loves to gift flowers to you. Every few weeks or so heâll give you a new bouquet. They're different each time, some have a meaning while others he simply thought youâd enjoy. You have a special place in your room where you keep them.
Now that youâre in a relationship, the two of you are basically joined at the hip. Wherever you are, Alastor is not far behind. He doesn't want to admit it but the overlord is kind of clingy. He doesn't like being too far from you.
If thereâs ever a reason he has to be away from you, heâll often have a few of his little imp dolls watch after you. You always thought they were cute little fellas anyways.
The both of you aren't exactly private about your relationship, but at the same time youâre not screaming it out from the rooftops either. Alastor is well aware of the dangers you could possibly face due to his status. Heâs made a lot of enemies in his time, and doesn't want to see you get hurt on his behalf.
That being said though, no demon in their right mind would try to threaten you.
God forbid they touch you either. Theyâd be ripped in half before they could even get another word out.Â
He's fiercely protective over you. He tries to play it off as nonchalantly as possible, but you know he cares about you immensely, itâs rather sweet really.
Now about physical affection. Things will go very slowly in the beginning, as said before he's fine with things as long as he's the one initiating it. If you two are out for a stroll youâll have your arm gently looped with his as you walk down the chipped sidewalks. Youâll have to be extremely patient with him, heâs not used to this âloveâ and âaffectionâ
If youâre ever having a bad day however, heâll slip out of his comfort zone for you, and allow you to hold onto him for as long as you please, in the privacy of your own room of course.
One of his favorite things to do with you, is to slow dance. There's something so intimate and special about it. It could be late into the evening, when everyone else had gone to their respective rooms for the night, If you listen closely though, youâll hear the soft hum of music coming from Alastorâs den, he has you in his arms, the both of you gently sway in a slow waltz across the room to the quiet love songs emitting from his radio. Itâs here that you truly savor these private moments with him.
Speaking of music, Al loves to sing to you. Oftentimes it may be a ballad or love song, and if you join in with him? Heâll fall for you even more.Â
Cooking! He loves to whip up all his favorite dishes just for you, oftentimes youâll help him in the kitchen, even if itâs the smallest thing. It's become an annual thing you two like to do together. He makes sure that you get only the best meat that this side of hell can provide.
Heâll often call you a mix of different pet names, here's a few of his favorites: Cher, Darling, Beloved, Dearest, Love, Mon Amour, Doll
Which btw on the topic of meat, Al is canonically a cannibal, heâll often eat demon meat in his meals, and will have you try it at least once.
Admittedly has gotten slightly jealous of his own shadow. The mischievous thing was always trying to steal your attention away from him, oftentimes it would work, you would always give in and humor him, saying that âEven his shadow needed some loving too!â. With a strained smile, Alastor shoots a glare at the inky mass of himself, who just looks at him with a smug grin.
Will have you meet Rosie at least once. Sheâs one of his other closest friends, and a real sweetheart. At first she comes off as really scary and intimidating. but the more you get to know her, and she's for certain that you wont hurt her friend, sheâs much more friendlier.Â
You two actually bond together somewhat, having little chats about Alastor occasionally, or about her business.
Itâs safe to say that this man would kill hundreds if not thousands for you. You have him wrapped around your little finger. If you ever have someone bothering you, they might as well already be dead, because this man will hunt them down like prey. And eat them too.
Honestly, Alastor as a lover is nothing short of wholesome. Heâs so attentive and caring when it comes to you. Which is so refreshing to see, especially coming from one of hellâs most feared overlords. Things will most likely start of slow, but if youâre patient with him, all the hard work will be rewarded tenfold. He had initially thought the Princess of Hellâs Hotel was one of the biggest jokes of the century, but what he wasn't expecting was you to be one of the best things to come out of it. You both were cast down to suffer an eternal damnation in hell, but at least now you can endure it together <3.
#x reader#headcanons#dating headcanons#hazbin#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbinhotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor the radio demon#the radio demon#alastor#alastor x reader#gender neutral reader
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During my last rewatch of the prequels I was actually shocked by how much I've misremembered or decontextualized certain moments in my mind because of how they're often talked about in fandom as showing the Jedi as too arrogant, too bureaucratic, generally just burying their heads in the sand while everything goes bad etc. So I'm gonna try to address every individual scene that typically gets brought up to argue that this is an actual theme in Lucas's portrayal of the Order.
The Council doesn't take Qui-Gon's account of meeting a Sith seriously.
Mace and Ki Adi Mundi do both express doubt this guy could be a Sith. (Understandably! Historically they've never known Sith to be able to hide their existence, and for them to have survived totally in secret for a thousand years is a pretty wild thing for Qui-Gon to be so sure of.)
BUT Yoda admits that the dark side is hard to see, and Mace assures Qui-Gon they'll do everything to find out the identity of the attacker. Later he's ordered to go back to Naboo and try to draw out Maul to discover more. Qui-Gon accepts this and doesn't ask for backup. Why should he? He held his own against Maul before, and Maul's probably not gonna show himself again to face a ton of Jedi. They end up missing the chance to learn who trained Maul because of how things go down, but Qui-Gon's death isn't the result of the Council mishandling the situation.
At the funeral, Yoda says the presence of one Sith means there's another out there. They know they've got to be on guard now and will be, but they've got no more leads for now.
2. Qui-Gon's not here to free slaves.
There's this idea that slavery existing on Tatooine shows the Order is apparently too tied up doing shady things for self-interested politicians (footage not found) to help the people who really need it. But Padme's shocked to know the Skywalkers are slaves for a reason. The truth is there isn't a lot of slavery in the galaxy at this time because the Jedi have helped keep it that way for centuries only by working with the Republic. In TCW we see that Zygerrian slavers have a particular hatred of Jedi because they're literally The Anti Slavery People and did so much of the work to crack down on their trade. But Tatooine is controlled by the Hutts and they simply don't have the resources to start a war with them.
(And honestly, it's crazy how people talk like Qui-Gon's a monster for honestly and apologetically telling Anakin no, that's not why he's here. This is a child he's already indebted to and who has a hero-worshipping idea of Jedi, it would be fucked up for him not to be clear about how he can't help him and his mom.)
3. They doubt Dooku could be behind the assassination attempt.
This I understand shows the Jedi to be a little naive. But they knew Dooku as a good man, and at this point he and his followers are still putting on a show of wanting to secede for idealistic reasons (and a few of them, manipulated by Dooku, actually do have good intentions). Only later do the Jedi learn they're illegally building an army before they've even officially left the Republic and clearly have no interest in the peaceful resolution Padme's been advocating for. And they only find this out because they have Obi-Wan investigate the assassin and this very quickly leads him to Dooku.
4. "Arrogance, yes. A trait more and more common among Jedi. Even the older, more experienced ones."
In context, this line from Yoda is clearly not meant to be taken so seriously. Obi-Wan says he fears Anakin is too arrogant, and this is Yoda's light-hearted way of telling him not to be so hard on him. Part of training a Padawan is learning to trust them so they can grow, and Obi-Wan perhaps needs the reminder that he isn't done learning himself.
Of course Yoda saying this could be partly motivated by them having been caught off guard before by the existence of Darth Maul and the dark side clouding their awareness, as we're told repeatedly throughout the PT they know is a problem. But it's kind of contradictory to take this as confirmation that this is a serious fatal flaw of theirs. If someone acknowledges their own arrogance then they're aware of their ability to be wrong, which means they can't actually be that arrogant. If truly meant in a general sense and not just as a gentle reproof of Obi-Wan, it's a pretty self-deprecating comment coming from Yoda.
5. "If an item does not appear in our records, it does not exist."
Chief Librarian Jocasta Nu gives this haughty response to Obi-Wan looking for Kamino, a system that's not in the Jedi Archives. So being so overly confident in the infallible knowledge of the Jedi, he takes her word for it and totally drops this lead.
Except no, he goes to someone older and wiser to figure out what this actually means. And he and Yoda are forced to conclude that the unthinkable - a trusted person among them somehow had reason to erase information from the archive - must nonetheless be what happened. This is honestly an exception that proves the rule: Kamino, and we can assume only Kamino, is missing from the archive only because it was removed, which is so suspicious it just shows he must be on the right track to discovering something. Jocasta is kind of snooty about it but theirs obviously is supposed to be one of the most accurate and complete databases in the galaxy.
6. Obi-Wan doesn't believe what Dooku tells him about the Senate.
For one thing, in this conversation Dooku's lying about basically everything but this. And I can't ever stress enough that Palpatine is a threat unlike anything the Jedi have ever dealt with before, who's already taken control of so much before they even know they're fighting anything, so the idea that a Sith is controlling the Senate would be really hard for anyone to believe.
Still, we know Obi-Wan reports this to the Council anyway. But it's a vague statement and they still don't have any information to act on. Palpatine soon has them very busy putting out fires in the war, and naturally fighting the Separatists who are led by Sith seems the best way for them to get to the bottom of what exactly is going on with the dark side. And they do finally turn their attention to how power-hungry Palpatine is getting once the war is nearly over and they've got the bandwidth for it, and think about what they might have to do if he's the threat to their democracy they fear, but of course he's too many steps ahead of them all the time.
---
So basically, what we see the Jedi being so guilty of in these examples are thought crimes. When confronted with the crazy explanation that happens to be true, their instinctive reaction is "No, I don't think that's possible." And then they do their due diligence to uncover as much of the truth as they can anyway. And Yoda, the Grand Master of them all, is often the first to admit that their first assumptions could be wrong. But Palpatine wouldn't be a good villain if his moves were predictable and he couldn't get an advantage over the good guys - that's just how storytelling works sometimes and it's not that deep.
It honestly felt stupid typing so much of this out because it's 90% just describing what actually happens in these scenes. But I guess it's a lot to ask that people actually carefully watch the films they discuss. đ
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Blood/Gore warning! Just in caseâ
My first major post to a new fandom and I brutally kill a main character. Shouldnât have expected much else from myself, honestly. á( á )á
Anyway, context if my subtle background hints werenât enough (or ya just want a little bit more info):
Post movie, Leo couldnât be saved, and everyone went home mostly expecting him to be dead. There was very little hope for his survival, really, and they all had injuries to care for themselves. While they did plan on trying to check later on, (at least to get a body), with Donnie building a portal and Mikey trying to unlock his powers, in the end, they didnât have to.
Within a few days, things started happening gradually around the lair (moving objects, closing doors, flickering lights, etc), until eventually they were getting texts from Leoâs number. No one really wanted to believe it, whether out of fear of what his presence implied or straight up not thinking ghosts were real, but eventually, as Leo texted things only heâd know (and the general acknowledgment of Hamato spirits being a thing), they came to be⌠open to the idea.
Draxum confirmed that ghosts were fairly common amongst yokai, separate from spirits, and with that Donnie dived head first into researching it, determined to see the ghost and get solid proof that it was, in fact, his twin.
In that research, he came across information on a ghostâs appearance. He didnât pay much attention to it, or the dread that settled in his stomach. He didnât care. He didnât.
But Leo does. Leo really, really does. And thatâs two reallys.
#oh the ghost lore I get to dive into with this huehue#spirits vs ghosts vs poltergeists#this is like the third au I got for this fandom so far wheeeze#just a small one to start us out why nottt#rottmnt#rottmnt leo#rottmnt Donnie#rottmnt au#rise of the tmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#leonardo hamato#donatello hamato#rottmnt fanart#ghost!leo#Iâm thinking about calling this au Too Much#but weâll see weâll see#flicker au
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types of affection
(xiao, childe, albedo, zhongli)
What types of affection do they prefer giving and receiving? Yet another re upload
âĽď¸REQUEST ARE OPENâĽď¸ don't be shy, send request for any of the fandoms on my fandom list, you can even recommend shows/games if they aren't there. Or even if you just want to chat! Anon is also always open!
XiaoÂ
Giving : gift giving, acts of serviceÂ
Alright so xiao knows very little about affection, his words are to rigid and his actions stiff, so those are out-Â
But he gifts you things, its cute really, the bright blush on his face when he gifts you unusual gifts.Â
Anything that reminds you of him, a pinecone he saw under leaves, small trinkets and animals made from leafs, rocks and smooth stones he finds by the water reeds, anything really
You won't know it at first but all the gifts he gives you are adeptal amulets, they ward of evil and bring protection, he'd never admit this fact but it's true, he fears for you so if you find hilichurls suddenly running from you its most likely coming from the small gift xiao gaveÂ
Acts of service can vary, anything from accompanying you on a commission to clearing out a camp of hillichurls that was in your path, xiao finds himself doing little things for you
Receiving : acts of service, physical touch, words of affirmation, quality timeÂ
Xiao has been serving liuye for thousands of years, if you do anything for him hes going to be smittenÂ
Xiao likes to say that the things he does is solely his burden to carry, but the things you do for him he appreciates greatly, anything from making him almond tofu to rubbing his shoulders after a fight
His favorite to receive is if you play an instrument, even just humming a tune, it calms him and lets him feel at ease, like the karmic debt no longer beats on his soul.Â
While xiao is stiff when giving physical affection at first, to scared of hurting you to initiate it, he does love itÂ
Xiao has most likely never felt or has forgotten the feeling of genuine physical affection, the feeling of your skin against his, your hands spread against his chest, its addicting t himÂ
Xiao likes to feel loved, the fact that you want him close to you, that you feel safe in his arms, it warms his heart and makes him realise what he's been missing for so long, and now that he knows the feeling, he craves itÂ
Xiao won't initiate physical touch, but he longs for it, and if you're on the roof of Wangshu Inn he expects you to be near him, as close as possible.
Xiao is insecure, his thoughts rage and cloud his mind, he often has doubts, and while he knows that you wouldn't simply leave him, and he has faith in you, words of affirmation are appreciatedÂ
Tell him that he's loved, that you aren't going anywhere, that heâs enough and will always be enough
He claims he doesn't need reassurance but the way his arms hold you tighter says otherwiseÂ
Xiao is also a fan of quality time, simply being in your presence calms him and he craves the feeling of you next to him.Â
At times like this spoken words are not needed, he just wants to know your next to him.
Childe (tartaglia)Â
Giving : gift giving, acts of service, physical touchÂ
While the concept is the same, the execution is far different from xiaoÂ
Childe gifts you lots of expensive things, if he sees it and ir remiss him of you, or you stare at something to long- there's no holding him backÂ
That being said all of his gifts are very well thought out and usually very sentimentalÂ
He gifts things that have meaning, things that relate to your interest and hobbies- and trust me, he knows all of your interest and hobbies (S I M P)Â
I have a headcanon that childe is hopelessly pathetic at arts and crafts, it always ends up as a disaster and he gets embarrassed, so heâs probably tried to make you something and it turned out,,,charming yet awful,,,he was about to scrap it when you saw it and it's probably the only time you've seen mr. saveu fatui so flusteredÂ
Childes acts of service are a lot difret from xiaos-
Xiao wants to make your life a little easier, childe wants a hit listÂ
Deadass this man wants names and, if you would be so kind, addressesÂ
If you need someone taken care of then he's your man, and he gets excited about it too (psychopath)Â
Of course heâll also do normal things for you, like helping you lift boxes too heavy for you, or beating up hillichurls, heâll even cook for you! Heâll honestly do anything you ask (S I M P)Â
Childe is especially clingy as work takes him away so often, besides that he strikes me and a generally touchy guy, he likes to feel close to youÂ
Big fan of having you in his lap but heâll settle for anything he can get, be it hand holding or an arm around your waste heâll take it.Â
Receiving : gift giving, physical touch, words of affirmationÂ
Child doesn't want you to buy thing for him, he wants handmade things, even if your as hopeless as he is, his heart melts if you gift him something you made,
Anything you make him becomes one of his most treasured possessions, it becomes something he genuinely cherishes and he wont shut up about itÂ
Heâll gush about it for weeks and no one can stop himÂ
As i said before, childe is a touchy guy, he likes to feel you against him, but you initiate affection? YES YES YES YES YES sign him upÂ
 He seems like he'd enjoy if you came up behind him and hugged him, hed tease you at first but inside hes melting and squealingÂ
Praise him, he lives for it tbhÂ
If he beat a hard monster tell him how strong he is, childe is a prideful man and your praise is something he greatly enjoysÂ
Complimenting him on just about anything will get you rewarded with a barrage of kisses and a firm hugÂ
Btw he gives great hugs, theyre strong hugs that make you think âholy hell did you fight a bear?â and they have a warmth to them that makes you feel at home. He doesn't do side hugs, it's full on hugs or no hugsÂ
Back to words, if you get sappy and genuinely sentimental he will get SO flusteredÂ
AlbedoÂ
Giving : quality time, gift givingÂ
Albedo loves spending time with you, weather you simply keep him company during his experiments or walking with him thru the streets of mondstat, albedo loves spending time with youÂ
Claims he focuses better if your in his presence (it's a total lie)Â
Albedo likes to be able to sit with you while you eat, he's big on eating together and it gives him a (much needed) breakÂ
He also loves taking walks with you, the closeness brings a warm feeling to his chest and a smile to his faceÂ
Albedo also enjoys giving you pictures, often times theyre of you or things that make him think of you, anything from a sketch of you working or of a flower that made him think of you, a cute bird or a simple landscape, no matter what the sketch is of he always takes time to explain exactly why he decided to sketch that particular item or momentÂ
His reasons are always very sweet, especially when he shyly tells you he just thought you looked cute in that moment.Â
Don't be surprised if you get a random branch or twig on your desk or nightstand, because albedo with casually take leaves and turn them into twigs (like in his idle animation) especially when he finds his mind wandering to you
Albedo is a sweetheart and wants to spend time with you.
Receiving : quality time and acts of serviceÂ
Albedo loves that you want to spend time with him, he wants you to be as interested in him as he is with you, so your enthusiasm to spend time with him makes him happy
He likes doing domestic things with you, cooking, cleaning, eating meals together are all things he greatly enjoys
He also loves it if your interested in his work, sitting and watching him work makes his heart soar and makes him feel lovedÂ
Look, i like albedos voice a lot, it so calming and gentle- so like, sitting in bed by candle light, leaned against albedos shoulder while he reads outloud, occasionally planting a kiss on the crown of your head
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Albedo appreciates you doing little things for him (his quest be like)Â
This isn't just you running errands for him but also things like bringing him a little snack or a cup of water, dusting his study (don't move things, just dust) helping him button his shirt (dse it even have buttons?) things like that, small things that just make his life a little easierÂ
*cough* kissing his temple and handing him a cup of coffee, sleepy voice whispering a little encouragement while he turns to give you a proper kiss. *cough*Â
Overall albedo is very chill and his affection is much the same, gentle domestic things and time spent together never fails to put a smile on his faceÂ
I love domestic albedoÂ
ZhongliÂ
Another domestic husbandÂ
Giving : quality time and words of affirmationÂ
Zhongli absolutely LOVES quality time spent with you, he loves to simply be able to bask in your presence, to calmly sip tea and listen to your voiceÂ
Its often that zhongli will be sitting quietly in whatever room your in, it doesn't matter what your doing, be it dishes or reading, heâll be sitting and watching you with nothing but adoration in his eyesÂ
He also loves when you sit next to him, curled up by his side while he reads to you or tells you storiesÂ
His voice is *chef kiss* and listening to his storeys is always so calmingÂ
The gentle like filtering threw the windows as his voice recounts tales of many years ago, his gloved thumb gently smoothing over your cheek. His arm wrapped around your shoulders as you sip your tea and eagerly listen to him.Â
Zhongli is domestic, long hours of time where he does nothing but savor the feeling of being with you, no need for spoken words when everything feels as if it has slipped into place.Â
Zhongli has a very proper way of speaking, his words carry the weight of mountains behind them, nothing spoken without meaning and intent behind them
Zhongli has no issue speaking his mind, and the same applies to you.Â
He gives lots of complements, especially when he notices something different about youÂ
You'll never doubt zhonglis love, how could you when his words are always spoken like facts?Â
I mean how can you argue when he states complements as if theyre set in stone?Â
The simple answer is that you can't. And if you try to argue youâll face the wrath of the rock (his kisses lmao)
Receiving : physical affection and quality time Â
Shhhhhhhhhhh- zhongli loves physical affection and i'll die on this hill
 Zhongli after so many lonly years finally has you, and he longs for the touch of your hands and the feeling of your lips on hisÂ
Zhongli melts into your touch, leaving into your hand cupping his face while he kisses your wrist with the utmost gentlenessÂ
Zhongli can't imagine he's comfortable to cuddle with, his skin is tight and has little to no give, his body is as hard as a rock, yet you snuggle into his side- it always brings a smile to his faceÂ
Zhongli is not an impulsive man yet he is often overcome with the burning urge to kiss you, he thinks hes slick but its all to obvious how his eyes drift and fixate on your lips, if you look close enough you might even see the way his pupils dilate, drawing into thinner slits when they stare
Zhongli loves if you take the time to get ready with him in the mornings, spending the morning with you is always very pleasantÂ
Idk bout you but i'd be glad to get woken up if i was getting woken up by zhonglis voiceÂ
He wakes up early and brews tea every morning, and once its done heâll rub circles on your back to gently wake you up, placing a kiss on your head and asking how you slept.Â
PLEASE offer to tie his tie for him he will meltÂ
Hed smile and let you tie his tie, gently taking your wrists in his large hands and placing a kiss on your knuckles before planting a kiss on your lipsÂ
Domestic zhongli is the best zhongli
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#xiao genshin x reader#xiao x reader#xiao genshin impact#tartaglia x reader#childe tartaglia ajax#genshin tartagalia#genshin childe#childe x reader#ajax x reader#genshin albedo x reader#genshin albedo#albedo x reader#zhongli genshin#genshin zhongli#zhongli x reader#x reader#genshin fanfic
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Match Made in Grey Haven
prompt: ( requested ) you find yourself in what feels like a distant relationship through penned letters. overcome with shyness during his visits, you avoid Herald Elrond - until your grandfather (and co.) steps in as matchmaker.
pairing: Elrond x shy!female!reader
fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power
word count: 2.9k+
note: it's not much, i'm so sorry.
warnings: takes place BEFORE the events of TROP, abrupt ending, small hurt mostly comfort, feelings are hard, author is very abrasive and isn't sure this is conveyed fully as "shy" so i'm sorry, anxiety, unedited, wonky brain goes wonky, fluff, small drama, lost + healthy family relationships, romance, friends-to-lovers.
part two: The Risk
"You appear ill at-ease," CĂrdan mentioned as he casually strolled from the shadows of his workshop, the last of the day lingering in a warm glow, "which I am not accustomed to seeing on a face such as yours."
Elrond, busy at work carving one of the perfect ships his old master was crafting a fleet of, barely slowed down but did glance up in acknowledgment. He sniffled hastily, looking back at the pliable wood under his hands.
"Merely focused, my Lord, nothing more."
"Hm," CĂrdan hummed, pacing around slowly, hands clasped behind his back, chin up, shoulders back, grey locks glistening in familiar waves, "interesting choice of words."
"How so?" Elrond paused to pet the curve of the wood, trying in vain to hide his true bubbling feelings. He went straight back to work, aware CĂrdan watched him closely.
"Y/N said the exact same." This made the High King's Herald pause in full, CĂrdan smirking, "Ah, just as I suspected."
"I do not think - "
"You fool nobody but yourself," CĂrdan chuckled, waving off Elrond's words and stepping closer to admire the boat carving. "She cares for you, too, you know?"
"With respect, my Lord... But you are mistaken," Elrond deflected. "Your granddaughter and I, we are merely friends - if that. We only exchange letters - "
"And feelings," CĂrdan pointed out, watching Elrond flush under his interrogation. Just outside the doors, you approached, thinking you would fetch your grandfather for supper; slowing when the older, wiser Elf tisked, "Ah, come now, Elrond, do not look so forlorn, there are worst fates than that of emotional - "
"With respect," Elrond repeated, cutting CĂrdan off, your hand hovering over the door handle, "there are no emotions involved when it comes to your granddaughter."
You froze.
"Yet I will not believe that," CĂrdan shot back.
"There is little to be said that might sway you, my Lord, but it is true. We are..." You listened as Elrond took a sharp inhale, "We are friends, nothing more. Our foundation lays in companionship, we exchange letters - share our thoughts, ideas, and feelings. There's nothing more."
CĂrdan hummed in amusement, "That so? Then... Why, in the past 6 months, have you come here - what is it? Six? Seven times?"
"Eight," Elrond corrected automatically, wincing when your grandfather chuckled and you lowered your hand. Yet you did not walk away yet.
"You claim business with the High King brings you to us so frequently," CĂrdan continued, "yet, the matters discussed can be solved through letters alone. Nothing that deems an emissary. So, tell me in truth... Why?"
"My Lord?"
"Why do you come? I know it is not for Gil-Galad alone, so, tell me in truth, why the frequent trips?"
You could hear Elrond resume his wood carving and you became acutely aware of your position. Backing away, you fled the scene, petrified over the idea of being caught; yet your mind was stuffed full with what you heard. It'd been years since you first met Elrond, the young, fresh, baby-faced Herald of the High King; and while initially fascinatingly attracted to him, you were detrimentally shy.
Like, so shy, it makes you mute - to an extent.
He wasn't a Herald yet, though, and came to apprentice under your grandfather. Elrond became a constant presence around the Grey Havens - a talented, shining star of a student who studied diligently. You admired his work from afar at first, then, CĂrdan asked you to row one of Elrond ships around the harbor.
It was well known you were the apple of CĂrdan's eye; his favorite thing in the material world, the reason he refused to give himself over to the Valar yet. He was supposed to sail... But his daughter was soon to give birth, so he waited; and thankfully, because plague claimed your father and mother from complications of your birth. So, CĂrdan raised you.
Elrond panicked at CĂrdan's request, stepping into your pathway without thought and gasping, "No!" You shied back into your grandfather's side, the dark haired Elf amending swiftly, "I apologize, I-I did not mean to be so - so abrupt. But... Let me work a few more days, ensure it is to perfection."
You smiled gently and nodded, CĂrdan smirking and leading you away - the start of a formal friendship. After testing Elrond's boat (when ready), you sent him a note that expressed your impression and complimenting his woodworking skills, even saying you looked forward to his future creations.
His first letter back to you was one of thousands, and the start of his Heraldry.
Yet now, in present day, you wondered if these letters weren't enough and if he thought you untruthful in your declaration of affection. While your companionship had now lasted decades, you were still insecure enough that you lose wit, cheek, and tongue when he's around. And now, the past half a year, you've seen him eight times and couldn't muster your courage, and perhaps, it wasn't enough for Elrond anymore.
You just expressed yourself better in words! And you didn't leave CĂrdan's side; you did not venture around Middle-earth, never left your sanctuary. You adored Elrond's accounts of adventures and travels and work, it was your only time to "live", even if vicariously.
Now, worriment set in; anxious that you weren't enough.
"Ah," CĂrdan hummed as he and Elrond entered your humble home for supper, "it smells divine in here, sweet girl."
"Thank you," you whispered, setting the table for the meal as Elrond was the one who would not meet your eye.
"I'll be a moment, I need to wash up," he excused himself, always presentable; forever perfect.
You just sighed as he slipped from the room; a typical guest in your home, especially with his...recent increased business from the High King. "You seem pensive," CĂrdan noted, taking the bowl of salad to the table for you. "Is there anything on your mind you wish to discuss?"
"Nothing of note."
"Then speak to me of something not of note."
"If it is of no note, Grandfather, why give it voice?"
"Because it still takes up room, be it in your head and heart - which gives it validation to speak of."
You paused at the table, finding him grinning, offering an unamused glare. "I told you not to do that," you reprimanded softly.
"Do what?"
"Your - little - your pearls wisdom!" You groaned childishly, collapsing into a chair. "You can let me stew and figure things out for myself, we do not always have to speak of matters. It is an unfair advantage that I am inundated with your pearls and others toil for direction!"
CĂrdan chuckled, folding his hands before his dinner plate. "To complain of such an advantage is - "
"I know."
"Then why do it?"
"Because..."
"You are frustrated with your own emotion that you refuse to give life to?"
With a huff, you nodded, "Exactly."
"What is the matter?"
Your head shook in deflection, "Perhaps, I am just overwhelmed. I think I'll take a walk - "
"But supper - "
"I'll eat later," you promised, reaching out to lay your hand on his and smile, "I just need a few moments to breathe. Eat, enjoy, I'll find you later."
You left before another word could be spoken. When Elrond reentered the kitchen, he only found CĂrdan and wondered, "Where's Y/N?"
"She seemed distraught, saddened by something. She decided to go for a walk, clear her head a bit."
"Right," Elrond nodded, feeling awkward just standing there.
"Come, sit, eat," CĂrdan invited with a small smirk, "she's probably gone off to the workshop, she likes to write there. Says it's more inspiring than the library. Come, Elrond... She'll be awhile."
Elrond frowned and looked to the door, CĂrdan knowing his words were replaying in the half-Elf's mind. "Perhaps I should check on her?" He asked his old Master. "It would be wrong to eat without the chef, would it not?"
"I was thinking the same," the older, greying Elf nodded, "though you waste your time, that girl is stubborn - trapped in her mind too often."
"How do you mean?"
"It's why she writes," CĂrdan explained, "at least, why she writes you, I imagine. She often loses her voice, feels as if she is not entitled to it's very being - so, she writes, uses her words... And seemingly, you understand them best - relate to her, in a way. So," he took a breath, "go, if you wish, but know, she's unlikely to speak."
Elrond was out the door before CĂrdan could uncork the bottle of wine left on the table. He smirked to himself, musing, "Oh, these kids..."
You had left your home and made a beeline for your grandfather's workshop, shutting the doors with a great big breath of relief before groaning in emotional frustration. "Oh, how silly!" You snipped to yourself, "This is all so silly, it makes no sense! I mean, the way I just shut down? It's so silly! Losing my voice? Over a man? Oh, just rubbish!" Your hands shook out violently. "I just need to say it, you know? I just need to say it - then he knows, he'll know and I can get rid of this silly feeling. He deserves to hear me say it, else he might think he's unwelcome, he might not want to visit..." You were unaware of Elrond approaching the door, opening it as you groaned once more, "OH! He's just a lad! He's just like you, you silly lass! Well, not entirely just like me - but he's just - he's just Elrond! What is there to fear!?"
"Is there someone else here I should address?" Elrond smirked gently as he stepped forward to make himself known, "Or do you often speak of me, to yourself?"
You squeaked and came to a halt, dress twirling around your ankles when you spun to face him. Hands came together, instantly threading your fingers and wringing them together nervously as your visitor smiled gently and slowly (so slowly) stepped forward. With a deep breath, you greeted, "Lord Elrond."
"Oh, please," he sighed, "are we not past formalities?"
"Far beyond," you agreed, shaking your head and facing the open wall that showcased the harbor and horizon; the last of the sunlight streaking the sky with water-painted color.
"It felt wrong to indulge on such a gorgeous creature without the architect being there to experience it first," he told you, coming to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with respectable distance still between you. "Yet you fled before..."
"I'm sorry," you blurted out, feeling suffocated briefly, "I could not linger."
"Is there a reason to feel unwelcome in your own home?"
You took a breath, "Well, um, it's just - it's you... You are the reason..."
Elrond startled, "What? I-I'm sorry, what have I done? What did I do?"
"You're you," you turned to him, "and that's not your fault, but you're you, and it drives me to insanity."
"I don't think I follow? I thought - in our letters, I thought we had a connection. That we understood one another...? And now that I'm here, you shy away from me, have I truly offended you so gravely?"
"No, Elrond, you have not offended me - it's the opposite," you risked your own comfort and reached out for his bicep first; which, in turn, made him step closer. "You are not betrayed, nor are you mistaken. There's a connection, of course there is. I do not know anyone who could fake such affection for such an extended period of time," you scoffed.
"Perhaps Sauron - "
"But you nor I are he."
"No," Elrond smiled gently, shifting his arms downward to hold your elbows and caress you into his chest as your hands were rearranged to his chest, "we are not, thank the Valar."
"I do not deceive you. The affection I hold for you, it's authentic and genuine. It's real, Elrond, it's real..."
"It is?" He asked, lifting a hand to hold your jaw; thumb caressing the apple of your cheek.
"It is. I was just... You disarm me. You make me small again, you make me tongue-tied, confused, excited - like everything is new again. And it both scares and invigorates me that I do not know what to do in those moments, so I hide from you. In your letters, I can plan my words; but when you're here, in front of me, under my hands," you cooed, petting his velvet tunic, "I lose my nerve. My senses..."
Elrond chuckled, hands drifting down to hold you by the base of your ribcage, "This... This is a relief to hear. I worried I offended you, that I had upset you in some way. That I ruined this before it had a chance to take shape."
"Hardly," you mused. "I lose my nerve around you, I feel so silly - so young and green to love..."
"'Love'?" He repeated.
"Oh, I just - I only meant - "
"Take comfort in the fact that the feeling is mutual, my sweet." Elrond chuckled, caressing your cheek lovingly, "I fear the High King may grow tired of me asking to personally deliver CĂrdan his letters."
"Perhaps I will have to find reason to visit you?"
"I would like that, perhaps more than I should admit," he whispered, slowly lowering his lips onto yours for a much awaited kiss - giving you every opportunity to back out, but it's not like you ever would. Not when you've waited for this for so long. His hand now cupped your jaw, sliding sweetly towards the back of your neck. Kissing Elrond was everything you thought: soft, gentle, evenly-paced, commandeering, all encompassing, and mind-numbing; you never wanted this to end, you never wanted to stop kissing him.
However, your moment was cut short by a loud crunching; pulling back as Elrond did, both turning to the main doors to spy your grandfather, CĂrdan, standing there smugly. He was holding a bowl made of bamboo, eating a crisp salad, barely holding back his grin. Upon seeing his mirthful expression, you deflated into Elrond's chest; his arm coiling around your waist to keep you anchored in place while the other dropped to open his stance - proving he didn't feel defensive.
"Grandfather?" You questioned softly.
"Mh," he swallowed his bite, "don't mind me, just appreciating the fruits of my labor."
"I beg your pardon?" You laughed.
CĂrdan shrugged, "You are both young and intelligent. Wise. Insightful," he listed, "yet you are so naĂŻve to think this union was yours alone."
Elrond glanced down at you in confusion, brows furrowed, asking, "What do you mean, my Lord?"
"Grandfather, it was Elrond and I who penned letters for decades - "
"Indeed," CĂrdan agreed, "but why do you think the High King has sent Lord Elrond to us so often these past few months?"
You were both stunned into silence, Elrond asking, "You? You asked him to...to send me?"
"I did," CĂrdan nodded, "it is disheartening to see my granddaughter, whom I love so utterly and dearly, driven into isolation because emotions can be so complicated and difficult. It was time for you two to finally confront your emotions, and after three months, we both knew we had to up our efforts..."
"The High King was in on this!?" You squeaked, feeling embarrassment seize your heart.
"You know, despite being High King, Gil-Galad is still fun," CĂrdan defended with a smirk. "So, he devised new engagements to send Elrond here for - giving the two of you longer days together between my responses. He agreed to send Herald Elrond himself here upon my encouragement. From your first interaction, I saw what you two have always felt. It's good of you to admit your feelings, is it not? Relieving, I mean?"
"Terribly," you agreed, Elrond rubbing your waist in support.
"Well, then you'll be happy to know, I've begun my response to Gil-Galad, so you'll have a few more days here, Elrond. I expect that boat done," he teased, "and upon your return to Lindon, I will be sending my granddaughter to accompany you as my own emissary."
"What for?" You breathed in shocked happiness, lips turning up brightly.
"It is time you begin a new education, my girl," he grinned, "and the High King has granted his blessing."
"Why would the High King be involved for my education?"
"I want you on a tour of Middle-earth," he explained, "meeting dignitaries, taking notes on what you see, hear, experience. I want detailed accounts, my girl, for our records so the King has agreed to send Herald Elrond to guide your tour."
"You've done all of that... For me?" You couldn't help the tears that sprung to your eyes, pure glee lightening your heart and head. Then, a sudden thought made you worry, "Why? Do you wish to away with me?"
"On the contrary," Cirdan set aside his bowl and approached you, Elrond letting go so you two could meet in the middle of the workshop, "I despise the idea of letting you go, even to carry my work back to the High King... Knowing you'll return shortly... But sending you on this tour is a necessity, sweet girl, because I only trust your written accounts. It's time... It's time for you to see the world I've long protected you from as it truly is and bring us back update records and accounts, and who better to show it to you than Elrond Peredhel?" He smiled, looking over your shoulder at his ex-student. You felt Elrond near your flank, CĂrdan looking at the two of you fondly; even reaching out to caress your cheek as he breathed in deeply. "What joy my heart feels, knowing you two have found one another."
"What joy we feel you decided to play matchmaker," you chuckled.
"Well, they say perfection only exists in Valinor, but I was determined to challenge that."
part two: The Risk
requesting rules and masterlist
TROP masterlist
#elrond#elrond peredhel#elrond trop#trop elrond#elrond x reader#elrond imagine#elrond peredhel x reader#trop elrond x reader#elrond trop x reader#elrond x female!reader#elrond peredhel x female!reader#trop request#trop x reader#trop fanfic#trop elrond x female!reader#elrond trop x female!reader#young elrond#the rings of power#the rings of power x reader#the rings of power x female!reader#the rings of power image#the rings of power fanfic#the rings of power oneshot#rings of power#elrond rop#rop elrond
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Stolen moments under silk sheets (18+)
Fandom: HOTD (House of the dragon)
Pairing: Aemond x AFAB!reader
Summary: Aemond is touch starved. Thatâs it. Thatâs the whole story. Kind of.Â
Masterlist
My requests are open!Â
MDNI NSFW (warnings under the page break). SFW version here!
Warnings: Including but not exclusively slivers of angst sprinkled here and there, fluff, oral sex (m & f receiving), p in v sex, creampie, obsessive behavior, obsessive thoughts, descriptions of metaphorical self-harm, very brief mentions of the dance and the events that happened (some canon divergence), Aemond is his own warning, canon typical themes, the beginning is a bit slow, grammatical and spelling errors (English is not my first language)
I am not responsible for your media consumptionÂ
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The roses in your garden have begun to wilt. Summer is leaving, and winter claims all, but you remain untouched by the darkness that crept ever closer with each passing cycle. Your roses may have lost their vibrant colors but your face remained as bright and beautiful as ever. You thrive even in desolation â the harsh winds cannot steal the warmth from your cheeks or the spark from your eyes.Â
âAnd you say you do not care for gardening, my love.âÂ
Heâs almost startled by your presence, but since the war very little caught him off guard. But that look in your eyes? The overwhelming affection? That was something Aemond reckoned he would never get used to. And yet he could not get enough, you had awakened a beast inside him that fed and craved all things you. A smile did not satiate him like it used to, a night spent together felt like a fleeting moment spirited away by vengeful gods.Â
Aemond hums. âYour passions are my passions.âÂ
You wrap your arms around his waist, resting your face on his shoulder. He felt, in that moment, as if he was standing on jelly, his knees threatening to buckle and his spine like liquid. There was not enough of you pressed against him. He felt burning hot and freezing cold at the same time, his skin crawling with want and desire, his cock half-hard already and his mind buzzing.Â
âClever.â You chuckle into the crook of his neck. Aemond shivers as your warm breath hits the sensitive skin there.Â
âDid I wake you?â
His words are a whisper. Soft and with underlying guilt. You do not sleep well anymore, not without him. Too much has happened. The death of Jaehaerys proved that there is no sanctuary that cannot be breached, not a lock that cannot be broken, and not a part of you that will not suffer. Â
You shake your head.Â
âLiar.âÂ
âI was already awake. I like toâŚâÂ
âHm? There is no judgment here.â
There was not an inch of you that he would part from â not a sliver of you he would not take, and not a piece of you he did not dream of devouring. The opposite was also true, for he craved to be taken, to be devoured and kept more than he ever dreamt of possessing. Aemond would have all of you, had woven that promise into the very fabrics of your marriage, embedded the words as if they were a spell into his vows, and oh, how sweetly you had smiled upon hearing them. He doubted you heard them for what they truly were. Are.Â
âI watch you,â you confess, âwhen you sleep. You look so⌠so peaceful. The war has yet to poison that.âÂ
He blinks. Seconds tick by, but Aemond is too busy staving off the greedy blush from turning him red to respond. He is unable to respond, truly, even were he not practically glowing at your words. Words clump together on his tongue.Â
âI should speak to the Housekeeper then,â Aemond clears his throat, â if the room is so lacking you need to resort to staring at me. Though, perhaps I should thank her for her oversight that surely allows you to fall asleep quickly.âÂ
The corners of your lips fall, barely, but there is nothing about you he does not notice. There is nothing you can hide from his greedy eyes.Â
âTwas a compliment, husband.â
âPerhaps a visit to the Maester is needed-â
You press a hand flat against his cheek and he falls silent. Your thumb brushes across his cheekbone to the apple of his cheek, to under his eye. There it rests, caressing him. He wants more. Your touch is only skin-deep, and it is not enough. If he could, he would press himself against your skin until all that remained of him was fading heat. Until he was but a faint whisper on the wind and his memory lived on only in you, for there was not a part of him he did not wish to give you. He would carve a place for him in you â in your heart, so that he would be close always. You would beat as one, breathe as one. Â
âYours is a beauty that the gods go to war for.â
âPerhaps once.â Aemond looks away.Â
âScars are stories of hardships overcome. They are marks of victory, do not think they make you less. They never will. Not to me.â
âPerhaps so, but I am not whole. There is a piece of me that was stolen and I can never get it back. The gods would not even glance at a man such as I for anything other than a feat of greatness.â
âAnd you have shown them many,â you press a short kiss against his neck. âYou claimed the Queen of all Dragons,â another kiss, âyou won many battles on dragonback,â another kiss, âyou showed mercy to your enemies,â a series of kisses follow that claim, all inching up his neck. âYou saved your brother and Sunfyre,â a kiss on his cheek, âyou were crowned King by the smallfolkâ, this kiss fell on the corner of his lips, âand you have been a most attentive husband.âÂ
A kiss straight on his lips. Aemond melts into it, pressing himself into you. You pull away too soon and he finds himself chasing after you, desperate for one more touch.Â
âThe gods give the toughest battles to their strongest soldiers.â You thumb the skin under his eye, âand you have won them all. Take pride in that. Gods know I do.â
âYou do?â He asks.Â
He did not think himself strong, or a champion of god given battles. His weaknesses tower over the oasis of strength, and so they are hidden to him. But he is not a vain man, that is not why he hates Luke for stealing his eye.Â
You smile. âOf course. And I think all the beauty in the world fades compared to yours. Scars and all.â
Aemond is not sure he believes your words, but he believes you. It is a conflicting mess of jumbled thoughts mingling with the words of others. He was never the beauty of the family, his dragon was not the beauty of her kin. His life was one of hiding, of pride hidden beneath compliance, of hatred festering under blushing skin.Â
âYou flatter me, my love.â He says before his eyes wander back to your roses. âYours is the only opinion worth hearing. The only one that matters.âÂ
You hum. âCome back to bed, Aemond.âÂ
âAs my Queen commands.âÂ
The draping curtains flutter in the soft autumn wind, and from Aemondâs side of the bed he could see out across the Blackwater Bay. Sometimes when the wind is harsh and the rain plenty, Aemond is back in the skies above Stormâs End. He dreams of thousands of ways he could have saved Luke, though he does not wish he lived, not truly. In some dreams he thought of ways he could harm him further â truly punish him for what he took from Aemond that night.Â
You can never have all of him. Not anymore. Though he dares not tell you that is why he cannot look at himself in mirrors. He would not show you the twisted being that hid under his skin. The one that would gouge out his other eye without hesitation were you to ask and smile as he did so.Â
He could never, would never forgive Luke for what he stole from you. It is a hatred so woven into his very being that he would carry that with him even in all Seven Hells.Â
âCome,â you beckon, kneeling on the bed. âIf my words alone are not enough, I will prove it to you.âÂ
âProve what?âÂ
His voice is low, filled with desires transcending earthly flesh. His is one of hunger for your very soul.Â
âCome here and I will show you.â Your smile is coy, playful even. There are half-wilted petals from your roses on the bed behind you. They form no pattern, haphazardly thrown across the sheets.
He wonders when you put them there.Â
Aemond comes to a stop in front of you, hands clasped behind his back, posture ramrod straight. He feels as though he is standing in front of the gods themselves, awaiting judgment. He hopes that he is enough, even if he cannot offer you all of him. There will always be a piece of him enduring the times alone.Â
He does not feel worthy of you. No amount of petals carefully gathered off prickly stems will soften the harsh edges of his being. The love he grew up around was conditional, and though he was rarely struck, their words were as sharp as daggers, and left deep scars that will never heal. It left him jagged, bleeding, tearing at the seams with a beast untamed. In the image of you he tried to mend himself, with your love he patched the holes left by cruel words. He tore the flames from his breath so that his wrath could never burn you, the claws from his hands so that his touch would always be gentle. Not a piece of him was worth suffering in the absence of anything you.Â
He was a dragon playing at being a lover.Â
But he broke his wings for just a glimpse of you, then forced himself to fly when you desired to feel the wind against your face. You could not see the darkness oozing from the cracks of him, of your husband as you knew him.Â
If it meant losing you, he would be a dragon no longer.Â
He could simply be him.Â
Aemond.Â
But Aemond knew not who he was anymore. He knew who he was forced to become, and who war made him. But war was no longer, and yet the man rising from the ashes of his kinâs pyres remained.Â
âAemond?â
âYes?â
âWhere do you go when you get so lost in your head?âÂ
He does not wish to reveal to you how deep his longing for you goes. It is etched into the walls of his heart, it is a bottomless pit that calls only your name. He can never fill it. It aches and aches, and he longs and longs. His envy knows no bound, it is endless in its hunger for you. He would have all of you if he could, just as he wants you to have all of him. Every thought in your head, every feeling, every sensation.Â
âLost. I get⌠lost.â He confesses. The words are raw and a piece of his armor is cracked open to reveal mangled flesh of all Aemondâs that has been and will be. His recreation of himself in your image is as endless as his need to please.Â
âOh, my love,â you whisper. âLet me take care of you.â
You reach for the strings on his trousers before you pull them down. He steps out of them easy enough, though he feels awkward standing there with his tunic on. Though you did not leave him to suffer for long before you pulled his shirt off as well. You palm at his chest, touching every divot and lean muscle on his chest. It is overwhelming. He almost feels like crying.Â
Your fingers massage, they scratch, they soothe and they burn his feverish skin. Your touch sets him alight. He can feel your love through every pass of your fingers over his skin. You press against the lean muscle, caress the slopes and divots of his flesh. Though you have long since memorized each otherâs bodies, you touch him as if it is your first. His mind is dizzy with you, he feels as if heâs falling and drowning at the same time. The pleasure fills his throat, his lungs, and yet it also sweeps him off his feet, knocks the breath out of his chest. He wants more. He wants you to press harder, to mark him. You could press through his skin, through his muscles and ribs, and grasp his very heart, and you would still be so far away he wanted to weep.
His cock stiffens, though you keep touching him. You brush over his right nipple, then the left, then both. It is a strange sensation â one heâs not wholly against.Â
Then,Â
your fingers brush against his abdomen, trace the outline of his abs, then dips below. You grasp him firm in hand, and Aemond thinks he sees stars. You are so very soft, and he is so very very hard.Â
The whore Aegon forced on him at his thirteenth name-day held him tightly, too tightly, then rubbed his skin raw, and still he could not force himself to come. He remained flaccid and cold in her calloused hands, even as Aegon jeered and leered from his place on the dais.Â
But you showed none of her cruelty, none of the cold indifference. Just your presence took him halfway to completion, and he doubted it would take much more. Your other hand reaches below to cup his balls. That touch is less gentle, more firm. You start to twist the hand holding his cock, bringing it back and then forth in long, slow movements. You switch between firm, soft, fast, and then slower. But it is never not gentle. And you never look away from his eyes.
Though half-lidded, jaw slack and chest heavy, he stares at you. Pleasure of the flesh is second to the connection he finds in your eyes.Â
His eye blinks wide open at the new sensation. Your mouth is warm and soft like silk. It is heaven made flesh, and it makes his knees tremble. You envelop him, tongue hot on his cock. You pay special attention to his head; trace the veins and the weeping slit with extra care. And, oh, is he weeping.Â
Aemond needs more.Â
He wraps his fingers around your hair, then gently guides you back and forth. A single shake of your head would free you from him, should you wish, but you donât. Your tear-filled eyes plead with him for a tighter hold, and he complies. A bit. But he is soon lost to the pleasure of your mouth, and so as his eye flutter shut and he shudders, he finds himself guiding you all the way down so that your nose meets the short hairs at his base, and then back up just far enough that your lips wrap around his head.Â
The reverence of a septon to the gods are nothing compared to that which he whispers your name.
Though if he finds the most pleasure from your sucking his cock or from knowing that a piece of him was inside you, he would never know. You swallow him down so easily, and with so much enthusiasm he is mournful that there is not more he can give.Â
There is a knife on the chest by his feet. He wonders, would you swallow all of him as easily as his seed? If he cut himself would you lap at his wounds?Â
Then, you pull away. You crawl up the bed until you fall down on the many pillows at the top of the bed. He follows without thought, kicking off his shoes and socks. His hair tie is next and his pale hair falls down his back. You are not prey, and he is not a predator, but he feels a thrill chasing after you into your marital bed. It sets his blood alight with desire.Â
âThat was cruel.â He says. âI was close.âÂ
He wasnât. Your passions are his passion, your pleasure his pleasure.Â
âThen I suppose you should get revenge.â You bite your lip.Â
Your nightwear is thin. It is easily swept away from your body and thrown on the floor.Â
âYours is the beauty gods would die for.â
âIt is all for you.â You tell him as you lean back against the pillows.Â
His eye rove over you. Not an inch of you is not perfect, not an inch he did not love. All of you on display for him; an offering for a vengeful man. You are not unmarred by the war, and there is not a scar he does not kiss. He feels your pain as if it was his, and each wound on your body is his failure.Â
âWe match,â you told him once.Â
He did not have the heart to tell you that this was done in your honor, to take the pain from you and deliver it upon him. He cut himself open for all the gods to see, then demanded they scar him as they did you.Â
Aemond runs his hands along your form with the same careful love as you did him. His hands caress the skin on your ribs, dance around your sensitive nipples to lay flat over your heart. It pounds against your skin, calling out to him. His beats in turn. Then, he turns his attention to your breasts. You are most sensitive there. His lips wrap around a nipple, and you gasp. His hand wanders down your stomach, through the hair covering your cunt, and then he presses down on your clit. You jump into his touch, eyes widening at the sudden pleasure.Â
âAemond.â You moan.Â
His mouth comes off your nipple with a wet âpopâ before he leans down and claims the other. He presses tight circles into your clit, alternating directions, then he moves his index finger to nudge at your entrance. His thumb stays on your clit, but the motions are lazy. He spells his name, then yours, then he stops.Â
Aemond pulls away, but not for long.Â
He moves down your body, about to put his lips against your cunt, when you pull at his hair. Aemond groans into your flesh. His desire for you is akin to drunkenness. He is dizzy with it, crazed with a need that can never be satisfied. Still, he presses himself against your folds, tongue darting out to lap at the wetness there.Â
It trickles down the abyss of his desire, and in turn it grows. The hunger deepens, hollows out his chest.Â
His thumb stays on your clit, but only for a moment before his nose replaces it. He grabs your hips and brings you closer to him. His face is all but buried in you, and yet it is not enough. Your wetness covers his lips, his chin, his cheeks. His tongue digs inside you for more, tip of his nose pressing against your clit in that way that makes your head spin.Â
Time seems to stop, your pleasure endless, his chase bringing him closer and closer, and deeper. He presses a finger inside your entrance, before you give way and he thrusts it inside. He pumps it when his tongue darts away, so that you are never empty of him.Â
Then, just as your hips start to shake, and your moans grow louder, you pull him away. He protests, loudly, but it falls on deaf ears. You pull him up to you, and he is reluctant to follow. Aemond feels cold and lost, but is then altogether found and warm when your hands wrap around his cock again.Â
And the next moment heâs burning.Â
You guide his cock inside you, and he sputters to life. His lips press down on yours, uncaring of the taste of him inside your mouth. He needs the connection, needs you. Aemond thrusts wildly against you for a few moments, his cock driving in and out of you with filthy wet sounds.Â
You hold his face in your hands as you kiss, and his thrusts grow more controlled. Aemond wants it to last. Wants to drag out your connection for as long as he can, but he can feel his orgasm building already. His lower back aches with it, his toes curling against the bedsheets. He moves to slow down but the second he tries, you wrap your legs around his hips, pressing your feet against his buttocks to slam him into you. It is the same when he tries again, until he drives back with the same force as you drive him back in.Â
The pace is maddening, your sounds so sweet he feels like heâs drowning. He knows not where he ends and you start, but he would have it no other way. If he pushes into you hard enough would you truly become one? In body as you are in soul?Â
âGods, Aemond,â you gasp at a particularly hard thrust.
Aemond brings his finger back down to thumb at your clit as apology, and you sing even sweeter for it.Â
Time means nothing, there is only you and him. And then youâre falling over the cliff of pleasure, and he dives after you, clinging to you with bleeding fingers. Your pleasure is his pleasure, two halves of a whole finally forcing themselves together. There is not a crack in your connection, and Aemond thinks he sees stars as his vision goes white. He gasps and moans into your mouth, your pants and sounds of pleasure drowned by his need to bring himself closer to you.Â
He lets himself fall upon you, cock softening inside you. His head spins still, but his heart beats like a drum in his chest at knowing that heâs once again been claimed by you. Even when he pulls himself free (reluctantly) there is still a piece of him in you. A piece that would never blossom into something more, for Aemond would not part with a single part of you, not even for himself.Â
âI love you,â you pant into his ear.Â
âNot as much as I love you,â he says in return.Â
You laugh. ââTis not a competition, husband.âÂ
âNo.â He agrees, with an easy smile. It is the truth.Â
Aemond had won the war, and he had proven himself. And so he would never part from you again, even were the gods to try and force him from your side. The threads of your destiny are weaved together into one singular past, present, future.Â
His beauty may be what gods fought for,Â
but Aemond?Â
Aemond would fight all the Gods, both old and new,Â
for just one more stolen moment under silk sheets.Â
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