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timewontbeenough · 1 year ago

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I’m not telling nunya my discord because I don’t wanna deal with a twat in my messages telling me it’s not okay to show peoples private things but I am also in a server with them too and I believe they were talking about this exact situation where they then said that Innerworld (in referral to DIDs headspace) came from a Native American practice FOR systems and as someone Cherokee, I have something to say about that.

this is just GOLD, because if you were talking about headspace, why do you feel the need to bitch on about something that has nothing to do with DID? “Inner world was originally a native practice for system-“ tell me where the actual fuck you got that information right now and how absolutely brain dead you can be to relate meditative spiritualism to DID, of course Innerworld has nothing to do with DID because the tribes don’t believe in mental illness, they are “gifts”, so tell me.. how can a spiritual, consciously meditative practice in a culture that doesn’t believe in your disorder, have anything to do with DID

Because why the fuck are you even bringing Native American spiritualism into the fucked conversation about DID? “It’s a practice for system-“ I’m sorry, take seven giant steps back right now, you think a culture built off of spiritualism, natural remedies, gifts and visions and MORE would make a whole meditative practice for DID something they would not believe to even be fucking REAL?

My culture does not BELIEVE in your mental illness so why the fuck would we have a practice for it? We don’t because it’s not real to us, Inner World is not about DID and you’re truly spastic to think the practice was made for systems.

Inner World refers to yourself, not to fucking DID, it is greatly derived from this excerpt

“ A Native American boy was talking with his Grandmother. “What do you think about the world situation?” he asked.

The grandmother replied, “I feel like two wolves are fighting in my heart. One is full of prejudice and hatred. The other is full of love, forgiveness and peace.”

“Which one will win the fight in your heart?” asked the boy.

To which the grandmother replied, “The one I feed.”

Native American inner world means your own SPIRITUAL inner peace, radical acceptance, don’t argue with reality, let go of control and claim agency, hope, resisting cynicism, cultivating your anger into passion, choosing joy and living with purpose and being at peace with your spirit, so sincerely here’s a big fuck you for even trying to make the excuse, for trying to bring a cultural practice about the human spirit into a conversation about DID and trying to claim it as your own.

And FINALLY “ This sort of meditative tool has been used in therapy for DID for over 50 years and is often used in conjunction with hypnotherapy. It should be clarified that the internal world is a tool separate of DID and not related to the diagnosis- you can cultivate an internal world if you do not have DID and you can have DID and not have an internal world. It’s just a visualization tool. “

“Not every system has one, but many do. It is also not unique to systems. Singlets may have a headspace as well.”

Do some fucking research. If people without DID can also have it what the fuck makes you think it’s uncontrollable and DID/OSDD specific?

so, i did some thinking, and after an attempt to very nicely cut contact with a previous friend of mine due to some drama involving them being incredibly racially insensitive, i have decided to come forward about them and their consistent mistreatment of me and my circle of friends. so with that being said, cavalry, if you see this, you are the stupidest and most disgusting person i have ever had the displeasure of meeting. you are a racist and a terrible fucking liar. i mean, lying is one thing right? but you could, at the very least, be good at it. but you’re not. you’re almost as horrible at it as you are as a person.

i very nicely explained to you i had made the choice not to be friends with you and your system anymore, and the first thing you do is go shit talk me in a server with MY friends also in it? send the screenshot of my polite message and call it stupid? you are pathetic and you need a severe reality check. i was kinder to you than most ppl in my situation would have been, i stayed respectful and collected when most ppl would and have lost their shit at you for your disgusting and out of touch behaviour. since you want to meet my respect with your gross disrespect, lets get fucking disrespectful.

before you go bash me in a server, how about you provide the full story and explain EVERYTHING that happened and not twist it to make yourself look like the victim? oh right, you’re allergic to that, aren’t you? because it would mean taking accountability for how disgusting of a person you are, something you can’t do bc you genuinely see nothing wrong with your pathetic behaviour, despite how many times people have tried to educate you, help you and give you chances to change.

if you fucking listened to anyone except yourself for a change (surprise, you’re also allergic to that) you would have seen or heard the multiple times we clarified that the issue was you weaponising poc struggles to avoid accountability which is exactly what you did. you harassed my friend @tsfander and when she very respectfully told you if you did not leave her alone, she would get the police involved, you LIED about it a month later, claimed you never sent her asks and then claimed you were scared for your safety against police and why was that? bc your alter is black in headspace? i know multiple ppl with black alters who are white body wise and have not once used “im scared of police bc my alter is black” in a situation where they harassed somebody, YOURE scared? what about the person you HARASSED? but no, you don’t understand that bc you’re incapable of thinking about anyone but yourself.

you have not brought up your alters race in any other situation EXCEPT for where you’re being called out, which goes to show, that you are simply weaponising racial issues to avoid consequences for your shitty actions, whether your alter is mixed or not, you literally only brought it up in a situation where you didn’t wanna have to be held accountable for your behaviour. nobody is telling you that your alters can’t be black, or white, or asian or etc but that does NOT mean you get to weaponise it in situations where YOU are in the wrong.

the fact that you didn’t even LISTEN to sams voice messages before you jumped the gun and bitched about how we tried to dictate your alters race tells me everything i need to know about your character. it’s not sams fault you couldn’t listen to her voice messages so you jumped to conclusions. that was your own stupid choice and to say she was out of line when it was YOUR alter weaponising poc struggles is fucking gross too. sam clarified multiple times she was not arguing with you, and also, how do you know what sam said if you didn’t get to listen to the voice messages?? bc she didn’t text anything regarding it. i did, mango did, and miles did. sam said everything about LOGAN in a voice message while she carried a seperate conversation about her sister with other people in text messages. another inconsistency amongst your bullshit. what a surprise!!

and at the end of the day, your alter being black in your “dreams” like YOU said will never compare to the struggles poc have to face against police every day. you are a horribly disgusting person and a very, very bad liar. nobody is saying your alters cannot be different races, that is the POINT of having an ‘alternate identity’ but you should teach them awareness and make sure they don’t try and claim poc struggles as they are in a WHITE body. your inconsistencies make me laugh and you need to wake up to yourself. i will not be accepting any of your apologies from now on in, and i do not want you interacting with me at all.

what hurts the most is i was super nice to you when i would’ve had every right not to be and the first thing you did was send negative messages about me and my friend to another server and clown on me as if YOU weren’t the asshole. it’s childish that you didn’t even ask for clarification on what we meant before you left the server and went and spoke about us behind our backs to everyone for something nobody even said. nobody said your alters can’t be black. just that they have no right to claim poc struggles, especially in response to being told they are wrong. that’s what WEAPONISING is. also it’s insane how logans message was about autistic people, and didn’t once mention poc. but you suddenly bring it up when you’re in the wrong? once again, weaponising it?

i don’t care for your excuses, blame another alter again if you want, it doesn’t change the fact you should get your system under control since you’ve proven time and time again they are dangerous, ranging from predator drama, racism drama, sexual harassment and more. i tried being a good friend to you, and once again, like every other time, you walked all over it. so sincerely, fuck you cavalry/trojan, you suck.

#also if they didn’t know the conversation was about Native American culture #why the fuck were they talking about it and trying to claim that it was for DID #and to shoot you down again #any quick google search will tell you that DID headspace is a visualisation tool

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royalsweetteaa · 2 years ago

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Hi, if its still ok on the cevance character hc

What is it like to be married to them

Thank youu^^

This is such a wholesome idea for a HC.

I’ll gladly accept it! <3

CEVANS CHARACTERS & LIFE AFTER MARRIAGE

Steve Rogers

There’s nothing but joy that will radiate from the household of Mr & Mrs Rogers! Steve will not shut up about how you are a married couple and will through his sentences alone give a reminder of your vows as he can’t help himself.

“How was your day, my wife?”

“Good thing you have a husband who can handle the handy stuff around the house, am I right?”

He has always wanted to be a married man, and he embraces it by being a traditional husband, regardless of the relationship dynamic. He works hard outside the home, fixes things when they are broken, and he always takes initiative in asking you out to romantic occasions.

While he does have his work as an Avenger, he manages to balance it quite well to not keep the relationship distant as you are of high importance to him. Steve will ensure your happiness regardless if you choose to work or become a housewife.

Andy Barber

Your household as a Mrs Barber would be of a casual suburb, living like any other happily married couple and working your normal jobs per usual after your marriage.

Andy will brag about you more to his colleagues and his associates because he thinks you deserve to be recognized. “She is an amazing woman, and I couldn’t be more proud of having her as my wife.”

Andy is all about balance in the marriage. He takes care of things when they need to be taken care of in the house, and he can depend on you doing the same when he isn’t available. This includes cooking, cleaning, paying the bills etc. He doesn’t expect it, but that is what makes you compatible with how you help each other out. You enjoy still going on dates but spending time at home is where you find most comfort in each other after a long day of work.

Ransom Drysdale

Ransom has a lot to learn as he is used to only taking care of himself, but if he was willing to ask your hand in marriage, he is willing to do a lot of things and make many changes to ensure a happy marriage.

Ransom becomes even more protective of you now that you’re his wife, especially due to how it means you are a part of his family and you would have to deal with them more often.

“Yeah, she’s my wife now so you better not fuck with her or else you will all feel my wrath.” He will warn his whole family as he holds you around your waist. Luckily Harlan is nothing but nice to you like he has always been, and the old man makes up for joining the Thrombey family gatherings.

Jake Jensen

Despite Jake taking part of a special US forces unit, you are able to live a peaceful life together, even after marriage. Jake will take on more casual work on his plate so he can be with you more often as he himself feels the need to spend more time with you now that you have tied yourself to a life commitment.

Jake is an awesome husband, always down for whatever you, his wife wish things to be. If you want to take charge in decorating your new home, be his guest. If you want to start a family, he will give you a kid right away - and if you don’t, that’s completely fine with him too.

He wants you to live the life you want as a married couple, and it doesn’t matter which way because you have already fulfilled his only wish of having the perfect wife. Nothing else matters to him.

“God, I can’t believe I’m so lucky to have you as my partner for life. You’re like my Leia to Han Solo, and it’s just perfect.”

Ari Levinson

Ari being the busy man he is takes away days a week, but the times you have together are well spent in your household. While you miss him the days he is away, you being his wife makes it a given that you understand and respect his passion in helping people. He makes up for his energetic nature of being available when he comes home even after a long week of working.

“Sugar, I could run a lap around the lake right now without breaking a sweat. Don’t worry about me. I would love to spend time with my wife, thank you very much.” He will say with glee.

Ari wants to live a carefree life as a married couple and not follow a strict plan for the course of your lives. He thinks the best for the two of you is to enjoy life as it goes, and in that way you’re able to truly connect through good and bad. You take it upon yourselves to go places that gives you peace and spend time together, like the beach.

Johnny Storm

You know you’re a special woman when you get Johnny to settle down and get married. People are surprised when they find out that he had asked you and not the other way around.

Life is just about the same as it was before you got married, but Johnny will definitely be playful of calling you by your formal title now that you have his last name.

“What do you say we go for a ride, Mrs Storm?” He will say with a smirk, and it will earn him a chuckle from you as you accept his weekly invitation of riding his bike. With him, there are constant offers of sponsorships which means a lot of traveling to exciting places. You will have to expect paparazzis invading your personal space every now and then, but Johnny seems to take pride in showing you off, so you can’t say you completely mind.

Thank you @femefetalelevelingup for sharing your idea! It was enjoyable to write! ♥️

Check out my masterlist for more HCs below ‘common room’!

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3

#cevans characters #ransom drysdale #steve rogers #johnny storm #ari levinson #andy barber #jake jensen #ransom drysdale x reader #andy barber x reader #jake jensen x reader #steve rogers x reader #ari levinson x reader #johnny storm x reader

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snappleapple · 4 years ago

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their favorite types of kisses

people in this - dream, georgenotfound, sapnap, wilbur, punz, jschlatt, awesamdude, quackity

headcanon!

the most disgusting fluff i’ve ever written

warning - cursing, i think that’s all but if there is more please do not hesitate to tell me :)

word count - 2k

a/n: okay okay, i might’ve lied earlier about that being my last post but this was short and easy to make which is why i would like to feed my readers this early haha. anyways, enjoy and please disregard the errors in this post, i hate proof reading anything lol. also, i’ve been very indecisive on the title and i might change it later and ooh, my masterlist will be made soon. i’ve just been feeling very unproductive these days. also, please put in requests, i am so bored and dumb therefore there are no ideas in this brain. and if you’d like a part 2, i might add more people for the part 2!anyways, peace!

dream -

i get the feeling that dream’s favorite type of kisses would be cheek kisses

he just likes to watch as you struggle to reach his height

“aw look at those little legs do their thing.”

ends up with you not giving him his kiss

and mans becomes SO pouty

“y/n…come on. don’t be this way.” :(

if you don’t kiss him on the cheek, will also become SO clingy and whiny

“why won’t you KISS ME!”

clenches his fists and stomps away like a teenage girl during puberty

slamming the door to your room

so then you have to go and give him all the kisses he wants

his face is slammed into your pillow

you sit on the side of the bed and pet his hair

leading him to stare up at you with puppy dog eyes

“i will give you all the kisses you want. so stop being so pouty, you big baby.”

will literally leave zero feet of space between you and him

taps his cheek to tell you he wants kisses

when you go on dates, will literally make you stand on your tippy toes to get his kisses

does not bend down at all and actually lifts his head higher to tease you

in other words, clingy but rude hoe

george -

george is a classic romantic

he loves just lip kisses

pecks or lingering ones

he doesn’t care

mans don’t need too many kisses

nor does he need to be too clingy

total opposite of dream and sapnap *ahem clingy ahem*

if he wants a kiss,

he will come over to you and get it

doesn’t get pouty if you’re busy

just waits patiently

doesn’t enjoy it when you interrupt him when he’s streaming so you do your own thing

when you’re watching a movie with him,

he will literally only stare at you with his cute smile

and listen to your every criticism of the movie

he likes to just peck your lips whenever he feels like it

and you’re just not surprised anymore

just likes to stare at your lips whenever you talk

overall, is very sweet but not to an extent with showing affection

sapnap -

omg

sapnap just vibes with neck kisses

it tickles his neck and he loves them

giggles when you pepper kisses along his neck and flushes a deep red

“y/n. stop.” giggles between each word

but when you do, becomes the saddest person in the whole world

“i was joking.” :(

when he’s streaming and he begins to miss you

would leave his room and find you just to get a kiss

just like dream, would get angry if you give him no kisses

“GIVE ME KISSIES!”

very amusing for you

and you love to tease him

“i don’t want to give you kissies.”

continues to stare at you with a large frown until you give in and give him kissies

lsg supremacy but i’ll get into this later hehe

you better give him kisses or you’ll be dealing with a very sad sapnap

sadnap :(

wilbur -

wilbur, wilbur, wilbur

what can i even say

total nose kiss guy

i bet he’ll boop your nose twenty four seven

asks stupid questions just to get your attention

“y/n?”

“yes wilbur?”

“is a hotdog a sandwich?”

“why-“

“boop.”

“did you just say boop while you booped my nose?”

if he’s streaming and you bring him a snack

he will hold your face still and leave kisses on your nose

not too clingy but not too distant

likes to be just right with you

if its snowy outside and your noses get red

makes dumb jokes about he is rudolph and you’re mrs. rudolph

just a lot of smooches from wilby

takes you to a lot of hidden cafes in the city

and while you read, he balances his head on his palm, staring at you in admiration

if you’re insecure about your nose, you legit can’t be around wilbur because he will go on a tangent about how beautiful it is

substantially, soft boy hours all day bro, besides when he gets mad then you leave the hormonal man tf alone

punz -

i don’t see a lot of punz on tumblr so here we go

punz loves hand kisses

not to an extent where he has a hand fetish

god no but just like

when your holding hands, he’ll occasionally pull your hand up to his lips and leave a kiss

lots of hand holding

and i mean lots

constantly gets mad fun of for being a simp but ignores those comments because he genuinely loves you so much

likes it when you play with his hair and messing it up

also likes to compare hand sizes with you

always has a hand on your thigh or your hand in his whenever he is driving somewhere with you

even when you go on dates, always holding hands

no matter how sweaty your hand gets, he will hold on

sometimes if he holds on for too long, you have to tell him to let go

“punz, my hand is super sweaty. lets take a break from the hand holding.”

would flat out decline so you would have to pry your hand out of his

he would also love it when you would kiss his hand

makes him feel all polite and precious LOL

would also wrap his pinky along yours when you walk together

he once came with you to a family gathering for christmas and was so SHY

shy boy held your hand for security while your younger siblings made fun of you

afterwards, when you were under a mistletoe, he kisses you on the lips before kissing you on his favorite part of your body,

your hand

c!jschlatt -

jschlatt is a whole mess

the first time you met, he confessed that he would hate you for as long as you lived because you made fun of his boots

now he says he still strongly dislikes you but you’re more tolerable

doesn’t like it when you make him soft and HATES it when he blushes

“why must you do this to me, mother nature?”

also “hates” it when you even touch him because he “hates” you

when he actually confessed to you that he liked you with his grumpy usual grandpa voice,

you kissed him on his forehead, after he bent down of course

he is an actual giant and threatens to squash you like an ant if he feels the need to

is an absolute monster to you but loves it when you kiss his forehead because it makes him feel secure and loved

likes to watch the wind blow through your hair and mess it up but gives you his hat because he like you being “all pretty and shit”

gets SUPER jealous when you hug children

like for example, when you went over to a family gathering at his house, his cousins came up to hug you

and when you let go of the child, the man child comes and lugs you over his shoulder

gets yelled at by his mom and gives her a sheepish smile before rolling his eyes and throwing you down on the sofa set next to him

his mom doesn’t approve of the way he treats you but you tell her its fine because he’s cute

when you are far from any type of civilization or in the safety and solitude of your own home, he wants kisses on the forehead

pointing up to it and bending down so you could reach it

“y/n, i only love you because of your forehead kisses.”

“you only love me for my kisses?” :(

“mhm.”

actually feels slightly bad

“and because of your personality.”

“thank you-“

“shut up. we don’t talk about this.”

in conclusion, give him his forehead kisses or perish

awesamdude -

sam just adores it when you give him jawline kisses

not because it’s basically the only place you could reach but because it’s a sweet gesture

sam is all about sweetness

i mean have you even seen this man on his stream

he likes to watch you while you have conversations with your friends

not in a creepy way but more like an adoring way

cause man does he love you

i mean not only does he love you but his whole family does

and when you’re alone with sam, you love to bury him underneath all of your love

“i love you sam!”

“no i love you more y/n!”

“NO i LOVE you more!”

“NO i LOVE you MORE!”

“SAM NO. I LOVE YOU MORE!”

“okay thank you sweet pea.”

leaving you a bit confused but happy that he accepts your love

when you cuddle, omg

he never stops peppering kisses all over your face and vice versa because your relationship is disgustingly fluffy

when he lends you one of his sweatshirts, you sure as hell better wear that shit out or else (i am leaving a blank threat here)

sam loves technology but you guys sort of have a system

a system that involves mailing each other love letters rather than texting them

you guys also go on a ton of walks just about anywhere

hand holding is mandatory even though you probably look like a child compared to him

just give sam lots of love and in return, you’ll receive lots of love

quackity -

mans cannot leave you tf alone

likes to do ANYTHING freaky around you

“i will follow you to the ends of the earth, mi amor.” or

“ayy, back off.” if anyone gets too close to you

messes with you twenty four seven and makes it his job to drive you insane

plays horror games at two in the morning for fun

and when he gets scared, hides in the safety of your arms

“mi amor. i’m scared.”

“shut the fuck up and sleep, alex.”

“okay.” shuts up quickly and snuggles deeper into the crook of your neck

loves you so deeply but HATES your cat

“look at that little dumb thing stare at me. you got a problem bro?”

your cat also HATES alex

scratches him all the time and hisses at him

if you think sapnap is babie, wait till you meet alex

“y/n he bit me!”

when you glance down, you don’t even see a scratch

“kiss my boo boo.”

wtf

“what boo boo? there’s nothing there.”

gasps as if you offended him

“this boo boo that your el demonio did to me.”

this man will do anything to get boo boo kisses

istg, you once found him provoking your cat to get some scratches

in alex’s mind, ouchies = kisses from y/n

always has ouchies from god knows where and shows it to you

even though you find it annoying at first, you grow used to it and it sorta becomes your thing with alex

alex is babie and you need to take good care of him :)

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qqueenofhades · 3 years ago

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The Green Knight and Medieval Metatextuality: An Essay

Right, so. Finally watched it last night, and I’ve been thinking about it literally ever since, except for the part where I was asleep. As I said to fellow medievalist and admirer of Dev Patel @oldshrewsburyian, it’s possibly the most fascinating piece of medieval-inspired media that I’ve seen in ages, and how refreshing to have something in this genre that actually rewards critical thought and deep analysis, rather than me just fulminating fruitlessly about how popular media thinks that slapping blood, filth, and misogyny onto some swords and castles is “historically accurate.” I read a review of TGK somewhere that described it as the anti-Game of Thrones, and I’m inclined to think that’s accurate. I didn’t agree with all of the film’s tonal, thematic, or interpretative choices, but I found them consistently stylish, compelling, and subversive in ways both small and large, and I’m gonna have to write about it or I’ll go crazy. So. Brace yourselves.

(Note: My PhD is in medieval history, not medieval literature, and I haven’t worked on SGGK specifically, but I am familiar with it, its general cultural context, and the historical influences, images, and debates that both the poem and the film referenced and drew upon, so that’s where this meta is coming from.)

First, obviously, while the film is not a straight-up text-to-screen version of the poem (though it is by and large relatively faithful), it is a multi-layered meta-text that comments on the original Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, the archetypes of chivalric literature as a whole, modern expectations for medieval films, the hero’s journey, the requirements of being an “honorable knight,” and the nature of death, fate, magic, and religion, just to name a few. Given that the Arthurian legendarium, otherwise known as the Matter of Britain, was written and rewritten over several centuries by countless authors, drawing on and changing and hybridizing interpretations that sometimes challenged or outright contradicted earlier versions, it makes sense for the film to chart its own path and make its own adaptational decisions as part of this multivalent, multivocal literary canon. Sir Gawain himself is a canonically and textually inconsistent figure; in the movie, the characters merrily pronounce his name in several different ways, most notably as Sean Harris/King Arthur’s somewhat inexplicable “Garr-win.” He might be a man without a consistent identity, but that’s pointed out within the film itself. What has he done to define himself, aside from being the king’s nephew? Is his quixotic quest for the Green Knight actually going to resolve the question of his identity and his honor – and if so, is it even going to matter, given that successful completion of the “game” seemingly equates with death?

Likewise, as the anti-Game of Thrones, the film is deliberately and sometimes maddeningly non-commercial. For an adaptation coming from a studio known primarily for horror, it almost completely eschews the cliché that gory bloodshed equals authentic medievalism; the only graphic scene is the Green Knight’s original beheading. The violence is only hinted at, subtextual, suspenseful; it is kept out of sight, around the corner, never entirely played out or resolved. In other words, if anyone came in thinking that they were going to watch Dev Patel luridly swashbuckle his way through some CGI monsters like bad Beowulf adaptations of yore, they were swiftly disappointed. In fact, he seems to spend most of his time being wet, sad, and failing to meet the moment at hand (with a few important exceptions).

The film unhurriedly evokes a medieval setting that is both surreal and defiantly non-historical. We travel (in roughly chronological order) from Anglo-Saxon huts to Romanesque halls to high-Gothic cathedrals to Tudor villages and half-timbered houses, culminating in the eerie neo-Renaissance splendor of the Lord and Lady’s hall, before returning to the ancient trees of the Green Chapel and its immortal occupant: everything that has come before has now returned to dust. We have been removed even from imagined time and place and into a moment where it ceases to function altogether. We move forward, backward, and sideways, as Gawain experiences past, present, and future in unison. He is dislocated from his own sense of himself, just as we, the viewers, are dislocated from our sense of what is the “true” reality or filmic narrative; what we think is real turns out not to be the case at all. If, of course, such a thing even exists at all.

This visual evocation of the entire medieval era also creates a setting that, unlike GOT, takes pride in rejecting absolutely all political context or Machiavellian maneuvering. The film acknowledges its own cultural ubiquity and the question of whether we really need yet another King Arthur adaptation: none of the characters aside from Gawain himself are credited by name. We all know it’s Arthur, but he’s listed only as “king.” We know the spooky druid-like old man with the white beard is Merlin, but it’s never required to spell it out. The film gestures at our pre-existing understanding; it relies on us to fill in the gaps, cuing us to collaboratively produce the story with it, positioning us as listeners as if we were gathered to hear the original poem. Just like fanfiction, it knows that it doesn’t need to waste time introducing every single character or filling in ultimately unnecessary background knowledge, when the audience can be relied upon to bring their own.

As for that, the film explicitly frames itself as a “filmed adaptation of the chivalric romance” in its opening credits, and continues to play with textual referents and cues throughout: telling us where we are, what’s happening, or what’s coming next, rather like the rubrics or headings within a medieval manuscript. As noted, its historical/architectural references span the entire medieval European world, as does its costume design. I was particularly struck by the fact that Arthur and Guinevere’s crowns resemble those from illuminated monastic manuscripts or Eastern Orthodox iconography: they are both crown and halo, they confer an air of both secular kingship and religious sanctity. The question in the film’s imagined epilogue thus becomes one familiar to Shakespeare’s Henry V: heavy is the head that wears the crown. Does Gawain want to earn his uncle’s crown, take over his place as king, bear the fate of Camelot, become a great ruler, a husband and father in ways that even Arthur never did, only to see it all brought to dust by his cowardice, his reliance on unscrupulous sorcery, and his unfulfilled promise to the Green Knight? Is it better to have that entire life and then lose it, or to make the right choice now, even if it means death?

Likewise, Arthur’s kingly mantle is Byzantine in inspiration, as is the icon of the Virgin Mary-as-Theotokos painted on Gawain’s shield (which we see broken apart during the attack by the scavengers). The film only glances at its religious themes rather than harping on them explicitly; we do have the cliché scene of the male churchmen praying for Gawain’s safety, opposite Gawain’s mother and her female attendants working witchcraft to protect him. (When oh when will I get my film that treats medieval magic and medieval religion as the complementary and co-existing epistemological systems that they were, rather than portraying them as diametrically binary and disparagingly gendered opposites?) But despite the interim setbacks borne from the failure of Christian icons, the overall resolution of the film could serve as the culmination of a medieval Christian morality tale: Gawain can buy himself a great future in the short term if he relies on the protection of the enchanted green belt to avoid the Green Knight’s killing stroke, but then he will have to watch it all crumble until he is sitting alone in his own hall, his children dead and his kingdom destroyed, as a headless corpse who only now has been brave enough to accept his proper fate. By removing the belt from his person in the film’s Inception-like final scene, he relinquishes the taint of black magic and regains his religious honor, even at the likely cost of death. That, the medieval Christian morality tale would agree, is the correct course of action.

Gawain’s encounter with St. Winifred likewise presents a more subtle vision of medieval Christianity. Winifred was an eighth-century Welsh saint known for being beheaded, after which (by the power of another saint) her head was miraculously restored to her body and she went on to live a long and holy life. It doesn’t quite work that way in TGK. (St Winifred’s Well is mentioned in the original SGGK, but as far as I recall, Gawain doesn’t meet the saint in person.) In the film, Gawain encounters Winifred’s lifelike apparition, who begs him to dive into the mere and retrieve her head (despite appearances, she warns him, it is not attached to her body). This fits into the pattern of medieval ghost stories, where the dead often return to entreat the living to help them finish their business; they must be heeded, but when they are encountered in places they shouldn’t be, they must be put back into their proper physical space and reminded of their real fate. Gawain doesn’t follow William of Newburgh’s practical recommendation to just fetch some brawny young men with shovels to beat the wandering corpse back into its grave. Instead, in one of his few moments of unqualified heroism, he dives into the dark water and retrieves Winifred’s skull from the bottom of the lake. Then when he returns to the house, he finds the rest of her skeleton lying in the bed where he was earlier sleeping, and carefully reunites the skull with its body, finally allowing it to rest in peace.

However, Gawain’s involvement with Winifred doesn’t end there. The fox that he sees on the bank after emerging with her skull, who then accompanies him for the rest of the film, is strongly implied to be her spirit, or at least a companion that she has sent for him. Gawain has handled a saint’s holy bones; her relics, which were well known to grant protection in the medieval world. He has done the saint a service, and in return, she extends her favor to him. At the end of the film, the fox finally speaks in a human voice, warning him not to proceed to the fateful final encounter with the Green Knight; it will mean his death. The symbolism of having a beheaded saint serve as Gawain’s guide and protector is obvious, since it is the fate that may or may not lie in store for him. As I said, the ending is Inception-like in that it steadfastly refuses to tell you if the hero is alive (or will live) or dead (or will die). In the original SGGK, of course, the Green Knight and the Lord turn out to be the same person, Gawain survives, it was all just a test of chivalric will and honor, and a trap put together by Morgan Le Fay in an attempt to frighten Guinevere. It’s essentially able to be laughed off: a game, an adventure, not real. TGK takes this paradigm and flips it (to speak…) on its head.

Gawain’s rescue of Winifred’s head also rewards him in more immediate terms: his/the Green Knight’s axe, stolen by the scavengers, is miraculously restored to him in her cottage, immediately and concretely demonstrating the virtue of his actions. This is one of the points where the film most stubbornly resists modern storytelling conventions: it simply refuses to add in any kind of “rational” or “empirical” explanation of how else it got there, aside from the grace and intercession of the saint. This is indeed how it works in medieval hagiography: things simply reappear, are returned, reattached, repaired, made whole again, and Gawain’s lost weapon is thus restored, symbolizing that he has passed the test and is worthy to continue with the quest. The film’s narrative is not modernizing its underlying medieval logic here, and it doesn’t particularly care if a modern audience finds it “convincing” or not. As noted, the film never makes any attempt to temporalize or localize itself; it exists in a determinedly surrealist and ahistorical landscape, where naked female giants who look suspiciously like Tilda Swinton roam across the wild with no necessary explanation. While this might be frustrating for some people, I actually found it a huge relief that a clearly fantastic and fictional literary adaptation was not acting like it was qualified to teach “real history” to its audience. Nobody would come out of TGK thinking that they had seen the “actual” medieval world, and since we have enough of a problem with that sort of thing thanks to GOT, I for one welcome the creation of a medieval imaginative space that embraces its eccentric and unrealistic elements, rather than trying to fit them into the Real Life box.

This plays into the fact that the film, like a reused medieval manuscript containing more than one text, is a palimpsest: for one, it audaciously rewrites the entire Arthurian canon in the wordless vision of Gawain’s life after escaping the Green Knight (I could write another meta on that dream-epilogue alone). It moves fluidly through time and creates alternate universes in at least two major points: one, the scene where Gawain is tied up and abandoned by the scavengers and that long circling shot reveals his skeletal corpse rotting on the sward, only to return to our original universe as Gawain decides that he doesn’t want that fate, and two, Gawain as King. In this alternate ending, Arthur doesn’t die in battle with Mordred, but peaceably in bed, having anointed his worthy nephew as his heir. Gawain becomes king, has children, gets married, governs Camelot, becomes a ruler surpassing even Arthur, but then watches his son get killed in battle, his subjects turn on him, and his family vanish into the dust of his broken hall before he himself, in despair, pulls the enchanted scarf out of his clothing and succumbs to his fate.

In this version, Gawain takes on the responsibility for the fall of Camelot, not Arthur. This is the hero’s burden, but he’s obtained it dishonorably, by cheating. It is a vivid but mimetic future which Gawain (to all appearances) ultimately rejects, returning the film to the realm of traditional Arthurian canon – but not quite. After all, if Gawain does get beheaded after that final fade to black, it would represent a significant alteration from the poem and the character’s usual arc. Are we back in traditional canon or aren’t we? Did Gawain reject that future or didn’t he? Do all these alterities still exist within the visual medium of the meta-text, and have any of them been definitely foreclosed?

Furthermore, the film interrogates itself and its own tropes in explicit and overt ways. In Gawain’s conversation with the Lord, the Lord poses the question that many members of the audience might have: is Gawain going to carry out this potentially pointless and suicidal quest and then be an honorable hero, just like that? What is he actually getting by staggering through assorted Irish bogs and seeming to reject, rather than embrace, the paradigms of a proper quest and that of an honorable knight? He lies about being a knight to the scavengers, clearly out of fear, and ends up cravenly bound and robbed rather than fighting back. He denies knowing anything about love to the Lady (played by Alicia Vikander, who also plays his lover at the start of the film with a decidedly ropey Yorkshire accent, sorry to say). He seems to shrink from the responsibility thrust on him, rather than rise to meet it (his only honorable act, retrieving Winifred’s head, is discussed above) and yet here he still is, plugging away. Why is he doing this? What does he really stand to gain, other than accepting a choice and its consequences (somewhat?) The film raises these questions, but it has no plans to answer them. It’s going to leave you to think about them for yourself, and it isn’t going to spoon-feed you any ultimate moral or neat resolution. In this interchange, it’s easy to see both the echoes of a formal dialogue between two speakers (a favored medieval didactic tactic) and the broader purpose of chivalric literature: to interrogate what it actually means to be a knight, how personal honor is generated, acquired, and increased, and whether engaging in these pointless and bloody “war games” is actually any kind of real path to lasting glory.

The film’s treatment of race, gender, and queerness obviously also merits comment. By casting Dev Patel, an Indian-born actor, as an Arthurian hero, the film is… actually being quite accurate to the original legends, doubtless much to the disappointment of assorted internet racists. The thirteenth-century Arthurian romance Parzival (Percival) by the German poet Wolfram von Eschenbach notably features the character of Percival’s mixed-race half-brother, Feirefiz, son of their father by his first marriage to a Muslim princess. Feirefiz is just as heroic as Percival (Gawaine, for the record, also plays a major role in the story) and assists in the quest for the Holy Grail, though it takes his conversion to Christianity for him to properly behold it.

By introducing Patel (and Sarita Chowdhury as Morgause) to the visual representation of Arthuriana, the film quietly does away with the “white Middle Ages” cliché that I have complained about ad nauseam; we see background Asian and black members of Camelot, who just exist there without having to conjure up some complicated rationale to explain their presence. The Lady also uses a camera obscura to make Gawain’s portrait. Contrary to those who might howl about anachronism, this technique was known in China as early as the fourth century BCE and the tenth/eleventh century Islamic scholar Ibn al-Haytham was probably the best-known medieval authority to write on it extensively; Latin translations of his work inspired European scientists from Roger Bacon to Leonardo da Vinci. Aside from the symbolism of an upside-down Gawain (and when he sees the portrait again during the ‘fall of Camelot’, it is right-side-up, representing that Gawain himself is in an upside-down world), this presents a subtle challenge to the prevailing Eurocentric imagination of the medieval world, and draws on other global influences.

As for gender, we have briefly touched on it above; in the original SGGK, Gawain’s entire journey is revealed to be just a cruel trick of Morgan Le Fay, simply trying to destabilize Arthur’s court and upset his queen. (Morgan is the old blindfolded woman who appears in the Lord and Lady’s castle and briefly approaches Gawain, but her identity is never explicitly spelled out.) This is, obviously, an implicitly misogynistic setup: an evil woman plays a trick on honorable men for the purpose of upsetting another woman, the honorable men overcome it, the hero survives, and everyone presumably lives happily ever after (at least until Mordred arrives).

Instead, by plunging the outcome into doubt and the hero into a much darker and more fallible moral universe, TGK shifts the blame for Gawain’s adventure and ultimate fate from Morgan to Gawain himself. Likewise, Guinevere is not the passive recipient of an evil deception but in a way, the catalyst for the whole thing. She breaks the seal on the Green Knight’s message with a weighty snap; she becomes the oracle who reads it out, she is alarming rather than alarmed, she disrupts the complacency of the court and silently shows up all the other knights who refuse to step forward and answer the Green Knight’s challenge. Gawain is not given the ontological reassurance that it’s just a practical joke and he’s going to be fine (and thanks to the unresolved ending, neither are we). The film instead takes the concept at face value in order to push the envelope and ask the simple question: if a man was going to be actually-for-real beheaded in a year, why would he set out on a suicidal quest? Would you, in Gawain’s place, make the same decision to cast aside the enchanted belt and accept your fate? Has he made his name, will he be remembered well? What is his legacy?

Indeed, if there is any hint of feminine connivance and manipulation, it arrives in the form of the implication that Gawain’s mother has deliberately summoned the Green Knight to test her son, prove his worth, and position him as his childless uncle’s heir; she gives him the protective belt to make sure he won’t actually die, and her intention all along was for the future shown in the epilogue to truly play out (minus the collapse of Camelot). Only Gawain loses the belt thanks to his cowardice in the encounter with the scavengers, regains it in a somewhat underhanded and morally questionable way when the Lady is attempting to seduce him, and by ultimately rejecting it altogether and submitting to his uncertain fate, totally mucks up his mother’s painstaking dynastic plans for his future. In this reading, Gawain could be king, and his mother’s efforts are meant to achieve that goal, rather than thwart it. He is thus required to shoulder his own responsibility for this outcome, rather than conveniently pawning it off on an “evil woman,” and by extension, the film asks the question: What would the world be like if men, especially those who make war on others as a way of life, were actually forced to face the consequences of their reckless and violent actions? Is it actually a “game” in any sense of the word, especially when chivalric literature is constantly preoccupied with the question of how much glorious violence is too much glorious violence? If you structure social prestige for the king and the noble male elite entirely around winning battles and existing in a state of perpetual war, when does that begin to backfire and devour the knightly class – and the rest of society – instead?

This leads into the central theme of Gawain’s relationships with the Lord and Lady, and how they’re treated in the film. The poem has been repeatedly studied in terms of its latent (and sometimes… less than latent) queer subtext: when the Lord asks Gawain to pay back to him whatever he should receive from his wife, does he already know what this involves; i.e. a physical and romantic encounter? When the Lady gives kisses to Gawain, which he is then obliged to return to the Lord as a condition of the agreement, is this all part of a dastardly plot to seduce him into a kinky green-themed threesome with a probably-not-human married couple looking to spice up their sex life? Why do we read the Lady’s kisses to Gawain as romantic but Gawain’s kisses to the Lord as filial, fraternal, or the standard “kiss of peace” exchanged between a liege lord and his vassal? Is Gawain simply being a dutiful guest by honoring the bargain with his host, actually just kissing the Lady again via the proxy of her husband, or somewhat more into this whole thing with the Lord than he (or the poet) would like to admit? Is the homosocial turning homoerotic, and how is Gawain going to navigate this tension and temptation?

If the question is never resolved: well, welcome to one of the central medieval anxieties about chivalry, knighthood, and male bonds! As I have written about before, medieval society needed to simultaneously exalt this as the most honored and noble form of love, and make sure it didn’t accidentally turn sexual (once again: how much male love is too much male love?). Does the poem raise the possibility of serious disruption to the dominant heteronormative paradigm, only to solve the problem by interpreting the Gawain/Lady male/female kisses as romantic and sexual and the Gawain/Lord male/male kisses as chaste and formal? In other words, acknowledging the underlying anxiety of possible homoeroticism but ultimately reasserting the heterosexual norm? The answer: Probably?!?! Maybe?!?! Hell if we know??! To say the least, this has been argued over to no end, and if you locked a lot of medieval history/literature scholars into a room and told them that they couldn’t come out until they decided on one clear answer, they would be in there for a very long time. The poem seemingly invokes the possibility of a queer reading only to reject it – but once again, as in the question of which canon we end up in at the film’s end, does it?

In some lights, the film’s treatment of this potential queer reading comes off like a cop-out: there is only one kiss between Gawain and the Lord, and it is something that the Lord has to initiate after Gawain has already fled the hall. Gawain himself appears to reject it; he tells the Lord to let go of him and runs off into the wilderness, rather than deal with or accept whatever has been suggested to him. However, this fits with film!Gawain’s pattern of rejecting that which fundamentally makes him who he is; like Peter in the Bible, he has now denied the truth three times. With the scavengers he denies being a knight; with the Lady he denies knowing about courtly love; with the Lord he denies the central bond of brotherhood with his fellows, whether homosocial or homoerotic in nature. I would go so far as to argue that if Gawain does die at the end of the film, it is this rejected kiss which truly seals his fate. In the poem, the Lord and the Green Knight are revealed to be the same person; in the film, it’s not clear if that’s the case, or they are separate characters, even if thematically interrelated. If we assume, however, that the Lord is in fact still the human form of the Green Knight, then Gawain has rejected both his kiss of peace (the standard gesture of protection offered from lord to vassal) and any deeper emotional bond that it can be read to signify. The Green Knight could decide to spare Gawain in recognition of the courage he has shown in relinquishing the enchanted belt – or he could just as easily decide to kill him, which he is legally free to do since Gawain has symbolically rejected the offer of brotherhood, vassalage, or knight-bonding by his unwise denial of the Lord’s freely given kiss. Once again, the film raises the overall thematic and moral question and then doesn’t give one straight (ahem) answer. As with the medieval anxieties and chivalric texts that it is based on, it invokes the specter of queerness and then doesn’t neatly resolve it. As a modern audience, we find this unsatisfying, but once again, the film is refusing to conform to our expectations.

As has been said before, there is so much kissing between men in medieval contexts, both ceremonial and otherwise, that we’re left to wonder: “is it gay or is it feudalism?” Is there an overtly erotic element in Gawain and the Green Knight’s mutual “beheading” of each other (especially since in the original version, this frees the Lord from his curse, functioning like a true love’s kiss in a fairytale). While it is certainly possible to argue that the film has “straightwashed” its subject material by removing the entire sequence of kisses between Gawain and the Lord and the unresolved motives for their existence, it is a fairly accurate, if condensed, representation of the anxieties around medieval knightly bonds and whether, as Carolyn Dinshaw put it, a (male/male) “kiss is just a kiss.” After all, the kiss between Gawain and the Lady is uncomplicatedly read as sexual/romantic, and that context doesn’t go away when Gawain is kissing the Lord instead. Just as with its multiple futurities, the film leaves the question open-ended. Is it that third and final denial that seals Gawain’s fate, and if so, is it asking us to reflect on why, specifically, he does so?

The film could play with both this question and its overall tone quite a bit more: it sometimes comes off as a grim, wooden, over-directed Shakespearean tragedy, rather than incorporating the lively and irreverent tone that the poem often takes. It’s almost totally devoid of humor, which is unfortunate, and the Grim Middle Ages aesthetic is in definite evidence. Nonetheless, because of the comprehensive de-historicizing and the obvious lack of effort to claim the film as any sort of authentic representation of the medieval past, it works. We are not meant to understand this as a historical document, and so we have to treat it on its terms, by its own logic, and by its own frames of reference. In some ways, its consistent opacity and its refusal to abide by modern rules and common narrative conventions is deliberately meant to challenge us: as before, when we recognize Arthur, Merlin, the Round Table, and the other stock characters because we know them already and not because the film tells us so, we have to fill in the gaps ourselves. We are watching the film not because it tells us a simple adventure story – there is, as noted, shockingly little action overall – but because we have to piece together the metatext independently and ponder the philosophical questions that it leaves us with. What conclusion do we reach? What canon do we settle in? What future or resolution is ultimately made real? That, the film says, it can’t decide for us. As ever, it is up to future generations to carry on the story, and decide how, if at all, it is going to survive.

(And to close, I desperately want them to make my much-coveted Bisclavret adaptation now in more or less the same style, albeit with some tweaks. Please.)

Further Reading

Ailes, Marianne J. ‘The Medieval Male Couple and the Language of Homosociality’, in Masculinity in Medieval Europe, ed. by Dawn M. Hadley (Harlow: Longman, 1999), pp. 214–37.

Ashton, Gail. ‘The Perverse Dynamics of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’, Arthuriana 15 (2005), 51–74.

Boyd, David L. ‘Sodomy, Misogyny, and Displacement: Occluding Queer Desire in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’, Arthuriana 8 (1998), 77–113.

Busse, Peter. ‘The Poet as Spouse of his Patron: Homoerotic Love in Medieval Welsh and Irish Poetry?’, Studi Celtici 2 (2003), 175–92.

Dinshaw, Carolyn. ‘A Kiss Is Just a Kiss: Heterosexuality and Its Consolations in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’, Diacritics 24 (1994), 205–226.

Kocher, Suzanne. ‘Gay Knights in Medieval French Fiction: Constructs of Queerness and Non-Transgression’, Mediaevalia 29 (2008), 51–66.

Karras, Ruth Mazo. ‘Knighthood, Compulsory Heterosexuality, and Sodomy’ in The Boswell Thesis: Essays on Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality, ed. Matthew Kuefler (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006), pp. 273–86.

Kuefler, Matthew. ‘Male Friendship and the Suspicion of Sodomy in Twelfth-Century France’, in The Boswell Thesis: Essays on Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality, ed. Matthew Kuefler (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006), pp. 179–214.

McVitty, E. Amanda, ‘False Knights and True Men: Contesting Chivalric Masculinity in English Treason Trials, 1388–1415,’ Journal of Medieval History 40 (2014), 458–77.

Mieszkowski, Gretchen. ‘The Prose Lancelot's Galehot, Malory's Lavain, and the Queering of Late Medieval Literature’, Arthuriana 5 (1995), 21–51.

Moss, Rachel E. ‘ “And much more I am soryat for my good knyghts’ ”: Fainting, Homosociality, and Elite Male Culture in Middle English Romance’, Historical Reflections / Réflexions historiques 42 (2016), 101–13.

Zeikowitz, Richard E. ‘Befriending the Medieval Queer: A Pedagogy for Literature Classes’, College English 65 (2002), 67–80.

#the green knight #the green knight meta #sir gawain and the green knight #medieval literature #medieval history #this meta is goddamn 5.2k words #and has its own reading list #i uh #said i had a lot of thoughts?

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elysianslove · 4 years ago

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haikyuu boys that ━━

━━ would absolutely, definitely, 100% get nauseous, dizzy, possibly might faint, while their s/o is in labor. one peak and they’re doubling over the hospital bed, inhaling deeply and exhaling sharply, steeling themselves. some are surprising, some are expected. all are stupid.

iwaizumi hajime; he just cannot. he cannot fathom what is happening. there is no way you’re going through that and surviving. no wonder you’re screaming in pain. of course you’re screaming in pain. he takes one look at what’s going on and just immediately takes a step back, eyebrows raised and hand pressed to his chest like “my god.” he’s an 8/10 though because he is incredibly supportive and those arms are great to grab onto. will not complain for a second (is strangely way too quiet), but he’s worryingly pale. maybe he’s quiet cause if he speaks he’ll throw up.

miya atsumu; he’s this close to screaming. or crying. possibly both. he can’t tell if he’s scared in general or scared for you or if he’s hurting seeing you hurting. in fact, no one can tell. he just looks like he’s watching an alien abduction happen right before his eyes. like a 6/10 because he probably does actually faint. it’s almost as if he’s the one in labor. and he’s the annoying kind of supportive that makes you want to smack him like shut the fuck up i’m pushing a whole child out of me right now. but his reactions are extremely endearing and hilarious to watch back because he most definitely insisted on filming.

akaashi keiji; the silent struggler. really doesn’t wanna make it obvious at all. like he really, really, really doesn’t want you knowing that he’s uncomfortable in any way, but he’s like, sweating from how nauseous he is. a big part of it is hating seeing you in pain; he cringes every time you so much as groan or pant. 7/10 because he’s incredibly supportive but his hands are way too clammy :/ like fr get a grip keiji. again, supportive, but his voice is shaky so it’s like, really ineffective. he cries when he sees his baby and it automatically makes him an 11/10.

sakusa kiyoomi; absolute coward. pussy. it’s not about hygiene, he’s just genuinely mortified. keeps asking you’re okay like,,, what do you think, sir? he keeps looking even though every time he does it doesn’t get any better? question mark? you can see him visibly gulping cause he’s in so much shock. like a 5/10 because he forgets to hold your hand. just stands there. eyes wide and mouth parted like a dumb fish. chokes back on his sobs when he hears his baby’s cries and it’s adorable how he brings his hand up to silence himself so maybe he’s a 7/10.

goshiki tsutomu; please he probably has a panic attack mid labor. definitely screams with you and all the nurses and the doctor are like ???? holds your hand tighter than you’re holding his. apologizes the whole time. the whole time. like the doctor asked him if he wants to see what’s happening, which idk why they would consider that a smart idea, and he just wailed like, “baby i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry, can we just adopt?” a 3/10. he’s so cute but. bring someone else if you don’t want to rip your hair out and his.

kageyama tobio; he absolutely tries to pretend that he’s okay but he just gets really, really quiet once you start delivering and his lips are chapped and his pupils are blown and his face is so pale. he looks like he just got off of a really bad rollercoaster. he’s not even holding your hand you’re just hanging onto an unmoving, lifeless limb. maybe 6/10, cause he could be better in the supportive department but, at least he was quietly panicking. he does have a mini panic attack once his baby is in his arms though. like just starts hyperventilating. it’s okay though! it’s actually kind of cute <3

lev haiba; actually faints. not probably. he actually faints. like all 6′5 of him just drops onto the floor by your bed and you’re like ,,, damn, guess i’m doing this alone then. he wakes up and the first thing he sees is your baby crowning and he just faints again pls. someone has to be there with you, just like to help him to you. he cannot stand straight at all, he’s leaning on the bed the whole time. 5/10 because it genuinely makes you laugh it kind of makes the pain bearable. they have to get a chair in case he just falls back cause he’s just so dizzy pls.

━━ would be so fucking annoying. who the hell let them in this room? why did you agree to this? how are you going to raise a child with them? regrets. so many regrets.

tanaka ryūnosuke; he’s like annoyingly scared. shut up and calm down for a minute i’m trying to birth your child here. swears so much like “holy shit holy shit that’s a big baby.” like pls you’re trying to push it out of you and he has the audacity to say shit like that? treats it like it’s some sort of volleyball match like he cheers whenever the doctor praises you. maybe a 5/10 cause he’s just annoying, but it’s motivating in a way. accepts any insult you throw at him too, like he’s so on board with it. “yes, i’m absolutely a piece of shit— what do you mean you’re not getting anywhere near my dick babe wait.”

bokuto kōtarō; listen :( you don’t want to think he’s annoying but he lowkey is. he’s trying his hardest to make this an easier experience for you but you just need him to be a little quieter. like this hurts bo, calm down please. you want to match his energy but it’s literally physically impossible. he’s an 8/10 though because you doubt it’d have been possible to go through it without him. bokuto’s incredibly ripped too so he lets you hang onto him and he holds you tightly too, like grips your hands and legs so strong that it’s v physically supportive too.

kozume kenma; he’s so. quiet. like say something kozume. say anything. he’s just wincing and cringing. 4/10 cause where’s the emotion. lets you hold his hand, like wow you should be honored. insults you back if you insult him???? like what’s that about???? when he sees his baby he does like, sharply intake a breath or whatever cause he doesn’t want to cry but he’s really struggling not to, which is kind of cute you guess. films the whole thing and does like a peace sign with a very nonchalant face but he has a filter on and the filter scans your face too except you’re like screaming. actually a 3/10.

sugawara kōshi; he’s incredibly supportive yes, but mans will be laughing at you. laughing. at you. probably films you and is like properly giggling and laughing boisterously. is so unfazed by anything and everything he sees. he would so easily be a 10/10 but he becomes a -1/10 just cause he’s an ass. definitely like is breathless and is so mind-blown when he sees his baby. just in awe and in shock that he laughs like, “we made that holy crap.” good to have in the delivery room because he does make the atmosphere easier and more lighthearted, but,,, at what cost? your sanity’s.

suna rintarō; the amount of times you wanted to punch him you cannot count on your ten fingers. makes some sex joke about how you’re so stretched out. you literally want to deck him. films the birthing process and makes you watch the video when you’re not even done delivering the baby? cause he’s insane i guess? justifies it as “this is a reminder of how strong you are,” like shut up with your bullshit. it’s kinda smart tho cause you can pull this on your kid later but still. he’s so fucking annoying. if you hold his hand too hard he’ll be like “it can’t be that bad stop being such a baby,” and the baby is delivered like an hour early out of spite. a 6/10 tho cause somehow you love him and decided to have a baby with him.

ushijima wakatoshi; pt.2 to say fucking something??? he’s mostly quiet cause he doesn’t really know what to say, and cause he’s never seen you in this much pain and it’s kind of shocking him. he’s not scared though, cause it’s like, a natural process of human life and the life cycle and all that stuff, he’s just like. taking time to process it. lets you hold his hand though. also if you wanna like give up halfway through he’s annoyingly angry with you like “no. you can’t just give up halfway. stop being a coward.” like why don’t you give it a try toshi??? a 5/10. could do better.

terushima yuuji; so hyperactive that it’s infuriating. doesn’t even hold your hand, he just stands back and observes and like cheers. literally will jump every time you push, like what the fuck, my love? makes really weird comments like “what does it feel like? does it feel like you’re pooping?” like???? it feels like i’m being torn in half yu :D a 4/10 only cause when you ask if you can slap him he wholeheartedly agrees and the doctor cannot hold their laugh back. also definitely plays like the chika dance and makes the nurses do it with him. probably films a tiktok too. you’re going to kill him after.

oikawa tōru; he’s trying so hard to be supportive and your backbone but he’s just so jittery and nervous. he’s not going to faint or get nauseous, but he literally cannot stay still. he’s so anxious it’s making you anxious. his hands are shaking when they grip yours, but honestly, completely unbiased of course, an 8/10, cause it really is so endearing. like he’s breathlessly and exasperatingly praising you and you can tell he’s near tears just gasping back sobs so ,,, maybe he’s not that annoying. but he is. he is annoying. a little.

━━ would be the best of the best. perfectly supportive. a lovely anchor. not too quiet, not too chatty. is so soft and gentle with you. you fall in love with them all over again.

miya osamu; definitely a 10/10. husband material. he has a cloth that’s just patting away at your sweat. kisses your hand and knuckles. soothingly rubs at your thighs. tells you you’re doing great, that it’ll all be worth it. kisses your forehead. grins at you halfway through when you need that extra motivation. literally all the nurses and the doctor are swooning over him. he’s very nervous deep down but he won’t show it, not for a moment, for your sake. 10/10. can’t stress this enough.

kita shinsuke; another king! so soft with you when you feel like giving up. just speaks to you in hushed tones like, “you’ve come this far, lovely. you can’t back out now. think of all the happy moments we’ll get to share just a few hours from now.” and you’re like “alright i’m sold.” completely unfazed by anything he sees. okay maybe a little fazed but he just kisses your forehead after sneaking a peak and tells you you’re doing wonderfully. 100000/10. imagine him as the father of your children???? like literally who else would you want????

aran ojiro; wow another inarizaki i sense a trend. except atsumu he’s a pussy. cheers you on quietly, holds onto your legs, breathes with you, smooths your hair back, literally just an angel. if you take a small break he just spends it quietly talking with you to get your mind off the pain. his knuckles are just caressing your jaw and cheek softly till you’ve calmed down. 10/10 obviously. he’s just the right amount of loud supportive and quiet supportive. kisses you full on the mouth when he first hears his baby’s cries and can’t stop thanking you. literally wtf he’s so cute.

kuroo tetsurō; he’s actually surprisingly very serious when you’re delivering the baby. he’s cracking jokes and all before to try and get you less nervous but it’s actually because he’s freaking out. he’s mostly quiet, just holding onto your hand as tightly as you’re gripping his. he holds his breath every time you push. keeps whispering i love you and pressing kisses to your temple. a 9/10 cause he’s so quiet it’s a little scary but he cannot hold back his tears when he sees his baby. kisses you all over your face after.

satori tendō; very emotional. like so emotional. he’s teary eyed the whole time, just thanking you even if you hadn’t given birth yet. it makes the nurses cry too cause it’s so lovely to see him get so visibly affected by this. he’s just whispering thank you’s and i promise not to let you down ever and i promise to love you forever and you’re pretty sure he’s speaking to the baby you’re birthing at this point. 9/10 cause he made you cry :( no but really he’s a 10/10. super loving, keeps asking you if you’re okay, if you need water, need to hold his hand, anything. angel, fr.

matsukawa issei; relatively surprising as well because you expected him to be more than just annoying, but he’s just. in awe. he’s so amazed by how much you’re going through, and he just stores it in the back of his brain. literally thanks you for the next 50 years to come. laughs endearingly with you to lighten the mood. 9/10. a point is deducted because he jokingly said that now you’ll be able to take his dick really easily. a nurse choked in shock pls. gets real close after to whisper i love you so that only you can hear. he’s just a dream <3

━━ would not let you move an inch after giving birth. all the work is on them for the next 5 years.

all of them. not a single one is left out in this one. they’re annoying but ,,, they all love very strongly <3

end note; listen idk what this is. i had a vision where iwaizumi could not handle his s/o giving birth and the thought was actually so sweet to me, just the nurses laughing at him and he’s just breathing deeply to try and not throw up and then. this happened. anyways. this helped put me in a better mood so i hope it does/did for anyone else too!

4K notes · View notes

delicrieux · 4 years ago

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 24: OH...HI

after months and too much longing, you finally meet corpse in person.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 3.8k

author’s note: we did it joe.

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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You woke up. That’s a lie, you didn’t sleep. Too much to plan, too much can go wrong and you’re...Not nervous, no, that’s not quite accurate. Excited. Yes, excited, so excited that two Redbulls and three coffees (so far!) make you jitter around the apartment like a butterfly that can’t find a flower bed to rest on.

Rae has almost had enough of your...random spurts of energy. So what if you ran a few laps, climbed a few tables, sang karaoke a bit too loud and yet another noise complaint had been issued? It arrived exactly an hour after your concert via your displeased landlord. Rae was, of course, the one to apologize because you were too busy trying on miniskirts. After that ordeal was taken care of, no sooner than Rae shut the front door with an exhausted sigh, you emerged from your room clad in your prettiest outfit. You present it to her with a bright smile and flourish.

She is not impressed.

“Will you quit it?” She questions, arms crossed over her chest. Your grin does not damper -- you’re used to such harsh treatment, having accepted her backhanded way of showing love long ago. Instead, you flick your wrists, showing off an ungodly amount of rings. You’re not certain of the exact number because you can’t count, “Y/n.” Her voice gains an edge, but you persist. Show off your shoes that have cute lil’ charms that jingle jangle not unlike the spurs on a hot cowgirl’s boots, “Y/n.” Her eyes narrow in displeasure, her stern tone making you falter in your dramatic stride down the imaginary catwalk, “Just stop.”

Okay! So maybe you’re not as used to her coldness as you thought you were. Your expression sours, and you quit the act, even if a part of you - one you barely fight off, goodness, you almost perish in that battle - wants to continue but even more annoying. As if you could somehow block her rationality with manic energy.

“What?” You ask, trying to keep the mood lighthearted despite her squared shoulders and tight frown, “I’m just having a bit of fun!” You say with a joyous little laugh, reaching for a glass of much needed water.

“No, you’re panicking.” Her words make the glass still, hoovering by your painted lips, but it’s short lived. You take a greedy gulp and it tastes fresh with a pinch of lipstick, “Look, I get it...” She shakes her head softly, “You’re meeting the guy you like for the first time, you jumped the gun straight to dating and now you’re...Anxious. It’s normal, you know.”

“But I’m not anxious.” You persist, and you really do mean it. You don’t like how she looks at you as if you’re the one that’s misunderstanding your own feelings. You set the glass down with a soft clink, heaving your own sigh, “I’m not, I’m really happy actually.” You explain softly, “It’s just...my way of dealing with it. I’m more... Worried about Corpse, to be honest.” You add, a tad quieter, “But, like, it’s all good!” You exclaim, strolling up to her and landing your hands on her shoulders, “I prepared.”

And it’s true! You had spent the night scouring the depths of the internet. Read every WikiHow article on how to deal with someone with extreme anxiety, how to not make things painfully awkward, and how to talk to boys (just in case. The last time you stumbled upon that particular article was way back in middle school when you had a crush on that one guy you saw in your school’s cafeteria every now and then. Naturally, that led you down the rabbit hole, and according to WikiHow’s How To Tell If A Boy Likes You guidebook, you found out that he was absolutely enamored with you because he glanced in your direction, like, two times. Safe to say that love story went nowhere. The point still stands).

So you forward all of this information to Rae, nestled in her bed whilst she lazily folds her clothes; clarify that you know that nothing much can happen, and that this whole situation is delicate, and that you must tread carefully because you don’t want to overwhelm him. She pauses her actions, glancing behind her to watch you staring idly at the ceiling, so peaceful, so thoughtful. And it’s not the eerie calmness you had displayed during your murderous spree in the last Among Us game, no, it’s just...quiet understanding.

“I’m actually impressed.” She says. You merely hum, counting the dust slowly descending in the cascading light, “You’re not as clueless as I thought.” Your lips quirk into a shy smile at the compliment- “Or as tactless.” - and turn downward just as quick.

“That implies that I’m always tactless.”

“You are.” She states and you sit up, a soft frown pinching your brows, “Not like, in a terrible way. You just...don’t think about your actions. Or the repercussions. You just know that you can get away with everything.”

“And I can!”

“That doesn’t actually mean you should do something just because you can. You know I’ll always support you. Literally everyone will always support you. But I’m not gonna coddle you. You’re just...a lot. Online and especially in person. But the fact that you’re actually taking this seriously and taking his feelings into consideration is...well, the bare minimum, but still, good job.”

...Much to think about. You don’t like thinking, it makes your head hurt. Though, that could just be the lack of sleep. You cross your legs and plop your head in your hand, tired eyes blinking owlishly, “Do you...think I should change what I’m wearing?”

Prompted by your question, she gives you a careful once over, “I mean, it’s signature you.”

“Signature me is a hoodie and some sweatpants.”

She smiles, “Then go change. Your outfit is a bit distracting for just...Hanging out indoors, no? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind either way, though.”

“I just...” You bite the inside of your cheek, mulling your words over. Truly, the last time you were so attentive was when you went Psycho Mode in Among Us, which, to be fair, wasn’t that long ago. Perhaps there wasn’t a chance to let your mind dull - it’s almost as sharp as your butterfly knife, “I figured that if, like,” You vaguely motion with your hands, “if I be, like, all over the place, and wearing something cute, he’d be, like, distracted? And less anxious? No...awkward silence?”

“First meetings are always awkward, it’s natural.” She chimes, “I mean, if you’re so nervous-”

“I’m not nervous!”

“-then just don’t overthink it. I know it’s easier said than done, but you’re you, and Corpse is Corpse, and he likes you for who you are, and even if it is a bit awkward, I’m sure it’ll, like, blow over in a second. It really doesn’t matter how you look, Y/n.” She grins, “Plus, it’s not like you’re greeting him in your underwear or something.”

You will not admit that that was your plan B, not when you just landed in her good graces. You nod, “...I’ll go change.”

And so you do. Pick out your cutest hoodie and some sweatpants. Put away your jingle jangle shoes with a broken heart, instead of them donning your fluffiest socks; slip off some rings because they keep falling off of your fingers. It’s almost like all of those transformation scenes in rom-coms that are still popular for some reason, except you’re hot before and after, so there’s really no transformation at all.

Now you wait. Just wait, all other activities are excluded from this. Rae comes back to find you sitting on the edge of your bed, back straight, hands neatly folded on your lap. She compares you to a Sim’s character and you allow her. After mercilessly mocking you and snapping a few pictures - for blackmail, you assume - she helpfully informs that she is leaving because she doesn’t want to get in the way, but your psychic abilities which you acquired just now tell you that she simply doesn’t want to witness this train wreck. Not that it’ll be a train wreck, it would be if you were nervous, but you aren’t.

You just aren’t. You fidget with the rings adoring your hand; toy with the hem of your hoodie; bounce your leg up and down. It’s just caffeine, okay?! Fuck this, Twitter time.

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[ADDING A MUSICAL INTERMISSION, LISTEN TO THIS IF YOU WANT (I WROTE THIS CHAPTER WITH IT IN MIND)]

The waiting commences, only now it somehow feels more intense. The sun is setting, and you really want to be one of those cute girls that fill their camera roll with pictures of the sunset and the roseate sky, but your hands are trembling and holding up your phone feels like too much of a hassle. You’d rather just sit there, alone in the apartment, in the pin-drop silence, extremely uncomfy and tense, as if waiting for the end of the world.

A notification sounds off and your life flashes before your eyes. Hastily, you check it, a sticky mixture of delight and something else, something unpleasant constricting, making your stomach churn. He’s here. Holy shit, it’s happening. You order your anime plushies to stop fucking panicking, they’re like, totally embarrassing you at the moment! You wonder if they have their own little group chat, but instead of Totally Spies it’s called Total Embarrassment. Yikes, okay, that was harsh. After a good scolding, and a heartfelt apology for getting so heated, you smooth down the non-existent wrinkles on your modest outfit, and quickly waddle over to the electronic apartment thingie something something... you unlock the main door, okay!? This is for some reason feeling very not cash money, so you break out in a little dance number.

The doorbell does not sing that shrill, unpleasant tune; rather, there’s a soft knock on the apartment’s door, and you pause your shuffling, your renegade, and perk up at the imposing future hidden behind a slab of wood. Your heart beats a melody all on it’s own, and it’s loud, uncoordinated, like a musician that’s still familiarizing themselves with their instrument. And there’s that knock again, as uncertain as you’re feeling, and your clammy fingers latch onto the lock and turn it and now there is no more hiding - such a possibility is no longer an option; no more sporadic dances or sitting in disheartening silence and letting your thoughts weight you down.

You’re not quite sure what you were thinking about before you saw him in the threshold, head tilted slightly, fluffy dark hair obscuring the bags under his eyes, hunched, one ringed hand clutching onto the strap of his duffel bag, the other frozen mid-air, ready to knock one more time lest you didn’t hear him the first two. No, truly, you can’t, for the life of you, remember what all the fuss was about.

“...Oh.” It’s a soft sound, so quiet, but not surprised, rather...relieved. Faint shimmers of a smile reach you, hidden behind a black face mask - the panini chic! You must stan a respectful king - but there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes you question it’s sincerity. He fails to return your gaze, rather choosing to stare somewhere over your shoulder. His eyes seem unfocused. Apprehensive. A wild thought occurs to you that he expected you to trick him somehow, and wild thoughts invade the land of your mind often, but never in such a way. You clutch the handle just a bit tighter.

His hand retreats to his side, up to his mask and you think he’s about to unhook it but he stills, and there’s panic there, as if he had been moving unconsciously, as if he hadn’t realized what he’s doing. He plays it off by idly scratching his cheek, muttering an equally quiet, “Hi.” to fill the silence.

Finally, your WikiHow knowledge can come in handy, along with your common sense, “Hey, pretty boy.” You mutter, pulling away from the door, “Make yourself at home!” You slide to the kitchen, your socks acting not unlike ice-skates cutting through the Arctic frost covered ground. You hope that with you occupied and not watching him as closely he’ll feel slightly more at ease.

You’d like to hug him. Kiss him, definitely. But if he’s so uncomfortable that he can’t bring himself to shed his mask in your presence, then there’s really nothing you can do.

You hear the door shut and lock behind you as you pull out two glasses from the cupboard, humming a song you can’t quite recall the name of. You ask him if he’d like something to drink - it was a short flight, yet a flight still, and planes always make you thirsty, and there you go talking his ear off. You end abruptly, but smoothly, like a true diplomat; if he notices, you have no way of knowing - he doesn’t provide even a hint. He’s hard to read, and literature was never your best subject. But you’re trying.

He sets his duffel bag down on a nearby chair, “I, uhhh,” His voice is raspy and low, another indication of a pathetic lack of sleep, “I...got you something, uhh, I dunno-dunno if I should...give it now, or?” He sends you a questioning glance, but it doesn’t linger. Your offer of drinks is momentarily forgotten, though you hardly mind.

You grin, “Sure! I love gifts, gimmie gimmie.” You make grabby hands, and he snorts, and it would’ve sounded endearing if he didn’t sound so fucking tired. He unzips the bag, and you pad your way to him, mindful of personal space (something you, in most social situations, chose to pretend does not exist). You note his hands quivering lightly, just like yours had in the agonizing wait, but he hides it well. You wish you could hold them. You’re afraid to try.

He pulls out a black hoodie and you recognize the custom art on it instantly - it’s his merch. He presents it in awkward flourish, murmuring a “Tadaaaa” under his breath; your heart skips a pleasant beat, and you have to bite down on your lower lip lest you smile appears too big. The fabric is soft under your fingers, and you accept his gift with a dramatic bow, and he turns his head away with another little laugh. You’re chipping away at the ice around him; it’s a slow process, but it’s worth the effort.

Truly, your own hoodie is shabby in comparison - icky, how could you have ever worn such a thing in the first place?! You’ll have to do extensive research in fashion magazines and Printerest so such a slip-up may never happen again. You discard it hastily and put his on instead; it smells like washing detergent with hints of cologne, one you instantly pin point belonging to him, “It’s, uhhh, it’s mine? I hope you, uhh, I didn’t have any spare ones, so-I hope you don’t...mind.”

He’s finally looking at you, but he’s still tense, still hesitant, and you shake your head softly, “No,” You admit, “I like it even more now.” You pull on the hood, toy with the strings and yank them quickly; your face is concealed, save for your nose, “Comfy.” Your commentary is unmatched, best of it’s kind - eloquent and effortless, much like yourself.

Another small laugh reaches your ears, and it sounds a bit livelier than the others had been. Success!

“Stop that.” He says gently, and you see moving shadows; his hands loosen the strings and your face is revealed to him once again. He’s close now, and he doesn’t move away; his hands come to rest on your shoulders, warm even through layers of fabric, “I came all this way to see you, don’t hide your face from me.”

Your eyes narrow playfully, your finger rapidly tapping away on his clothed cheek, “What’s all this then? Hm? Hm?” Instead of swatting your hand away, which you figured he’d do, he complies and finally tugs that fucking mask off. Your breath catches in the back of your throat and you halt your ministrations - truly, seeing him smiling on screen is nothing compared to him smiling in person. You can’t quite contain yourself any longer - your excitement might burst out in another dance number otherwise - as you throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him flush against you. He’s quick to return the embrace. Maybe it was all the encouragement he needed.

“Wow,” He mumbles, only slightly offended, “so I finally show my face to you, in person, and you just-...you just look away?”

“I’m hugging you, dumbass.”

“...Touche.”

Things fall into place after that, like a dozen puzzle pieces fitting together. He won’t let you go - he doesn’t want to. You put on some music, something easy and indie and that doesn’t require too much effort to listen to, as the two of you contemplate what to eat. Cooking by yourselves was dismissed due to the unstable relationship between yourself and cooking utensils. The stove and you had had a falling out recently, but this feud had started long ago, back in pre-school, with only short intervals of friendship. He listened to your extensive explanation absolutely enraptured and only moderately confused.

So you settled on ordering pizza from Domino’s. You have no trouble calling or receiving phone calls, because you have no trouble doing anything, and he admitted that he only really calls you because he gets too anxious to do more, so you’re tasked with ordering the food. You accept this mission with pride.

You stand tall, gazing out the window into the wild California domain: massive buildings and towering eucalyptus trees, bleeding skyline and the sun slowly getting swallowed up by the ocean. Corpse looms behind you, with his arms snaked around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, looking at you through the corner of his eye. You wait patiently for the underpaid, overworked staff member to pick up, and once they do, you have the audacity to grin brightly and chirp, “Hi! I want pizza.”

Conversations flow smoothly, and you make hot chocolate - because you are hot and you crave chocolate - and he insists he wants one too, because you want one, and you don’t hesitate to overflow his cup with whipped cream and an ungodly amount of miniature marshmallows. A premature heart attack, just for him. Whoever said romance is dead has clearly never met you. When the doorbell chimes, you’re astounded that an hour flew by so quickly.

After the delicious meal, the movie night must commence. So what if you watched 10 Things I hate About You yesterday, you insist that you have already forgotten the plot. You lead him to your room and he tries not to stare, but can’t help himself. Pretty boy in a pretty girl’s room. His eyes linger on the massive posters of Chrollo on your walls, and you sense his displeasure rolling off of him in waves.

“What?” You huff, fluffing the pillows, “You don’t like my husband?”

He jabs his finger into his chest, into the spot of his heart, “I’m your husband.”

“Side hoe, then-”

“-No.”

You didn’t lie when you said you love to cuddle, or that you’re clingy. It’s a good thing he’s just as clingy as you are, because when he lays down and you latch onto his side. He doesn’t complain, rather wraps his arm around pulls you close. His thumb draws lazy circles on your side; with your head resting on his chest, you feel each rhythmical rise and drop.

The opening credits play on the projector, the room dark enough for your pile of plushies to look like a whole fucking human just standing in the corner. A ghost! Sucks for it, you’re not scared. You feel safe. Protected. So comfortable in Corpse’s hold that you’re honestly wondering how did you manage to be so long without him. To think all of this started when Sykkuno followed you on Twitter. What a lucky accident.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice cuts through the bopping 90s soundtrack and Julia Stiles’ voice. He hums. You take it as a yes. Tilting your head upwards, you find his eyes again, a thorn of displeasure picking you as you note that that apprehension you had seen previously is still very much there, “...You really wouldn’t date me if I was a worm?”

His chest rumbles with a laugh and his lips split into a grin, “I would.” He presses your side for emphasis, “I really would.” He repeats, reassuringly. You, however, are not convinced.

“But I’d be a worm.”

“I know. We’d... roll around in the dirt together, or something.”

“But you’d be human.”

He frowns softly, “Why couldn’t I be a worm, too?”

“Those are the rules.”

“What kind of shitty fucking rules are those?”

“I dunno, it’s like the Thanos snap or something. I just turn into a worm. I’m the only one.”

“That’s fine.” He smiles, “I’d take you out on a fishing date or something.”

Shocked, offended, and heartbroken, you hit his chest and pointedly turn away with a pout, which he finds very funny for some reason, but you fail to see the humor anywhere except the movie. Despite the fact that he’d sacrifice you for a fish, you smile shyly and close your eyes. He did say you would take a nap together, and if he really thought you’d stay awake for movie night, well, then he’s just an idiot. You had decided you would fall asleep as soon as he was next to you. It’s a miracle you managed to stay awake for so long.

“...Sleeping already?” You don’t appreciate his teasing tone.

“’m not sleeping...” You murmur, “’m resting my eyes.”

“Sure.”

You’re not quite certain (of anything, really) how much time drifts by, but you’re nearly lost in unconsciousness, in the warm, nice feeling that comes along with him like a cloud. Perhaps he thinks you’re asleep, he has to, else he wouldn’t say anything at all, “You’re stuck with me now, you know.” It’s such a soft admission, riddled with the same notes of anxiety that always prevail in his speech; with the same hopeful sincerity he had been gazing at you the whole evening.

Moving your lips is such a hassle, but you manage, “’m...stuck...” You mumble, “’m...stuck...what are you doing step-”

“No!” He laughs, and your lips quirk into a lazy smile, “No, no, no. Just no. Do you talk in your sleep?” You fake snore at that, loudly, “You’re like a little dragon.”

“...Fuck you.”

“Fine, a kitten, then.” That’s better. You feel something chapped, but soft, press onto your forehead, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

God, you’re so fucking happy. Does he know how happy you are? How happy he makes you? But you’re too tired for screaming and flailing around, too tired to even crack an eye open. You want him to know all the same, “...like you.” You whisper, but you don’t know if he hears you over the movie, “...I like you.”

His reply is instant, breathless, “I like you too.”

Good, you want to say, and maybe you do - can’t tell anymore. Sleep takes you too quickly.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #corpse x y/n #corpse social media au #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #fluff #wtf i have never been this soft no one hmu

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gingerbreadmonsters · 2 years ago

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[head in wip-soaked-hands]

everything has been piling up and i’ve missed THOUSANDS of tags - please accept my sincere apologies, in the form of this ultra-mega-super wip wednesday <333 thank you very very much to @autisticempathydaemon @romirola @zozo-01 and @bicyclepainting for your kind tags!!

5 wip excerpts for your perusal - as always, titles are subject to change, but i think you can see where i’m going with this, in 5 words or less :D

you’re the cat’s meow! - silent films are so boring

(a return to the world of motion capture, now in vivid technicolour and surround sound!)

(You couldn’t even move. They’d taken him away, and you hadn’t been able to do a thing to stop it. Disappearing through the door and he’d looked so… small. It hadn’t been right. Elliott had never seemed small before. Larger than life, like he’d stepped right out of the silver screen and into your arms, like the whole world melts away when he stops looking at it.)

(Maybe it’s true, after all. Maybe the world really does crumble away when he’s not there, and this is what it’s like to fall. You’ve never known what the world was like without Elliott. The golden snatches of his time, the sweet spotlight of his affection - now, you’re swept away in the scene change, and all is silent in the pitch-black of the wings. When’s your cue again?)

thicker than water - sibling rivalry just got bloody

You might think that it’s madness. That it’s like some crazed, bloodthirsty, animal state that descends upon them, that it’s like they’re totally different people. You’d be wrong. Both of them are perfectly, boringly sane when it happens. There’s no madness here, no delusion - just a brother and a sister who hate and hate and hate. She’s entirely rational when she tries to sever his spinal column with her teeth, he’s not confused about why he’s trying to rip her arm from its socket. Perhaps it runs in the family. Tearing each other apart comes naturally.

return to me - possible human experiments in limerence

You poor thing. If only, little trickster god. You put up a good fight, but alas - the metaphysical theory behind it disproves you.

But h-

We can talk about it later, dear. He’d pretend to examine the object label on the wall to your left, brushing off your misplaced concern - you don’t really need to hear him explain all that. Far too boring, far too dense and dull. A singular waste of time and effort, especially considering how precious little time he gets to spend with you as it is.

Marble and varnished wood and wrought iron. The museum is vast and full of fascinating things. Easily enough to fill an afternoon and then some. Take your time.

Walk with him.

Beauty, it is said, is in the eye of the beholder. Blake disagrees. Whoever said that had clearly never met you.

rose and cherry red - at last, it’s all complete

(He misses it sometimes, his hometown. When was the last time he went back? How long has it been since then? It might be the nostalgia talking, but he’ll tell you it’s a beautiful sort of place - a great blue sky stretching out every which way you look, long roads disappearing in the haze of heat, peaceful afternoons that last forever. There’s a good life to be had there, if you’ve got the temperament for it.)

(It hurts, but he knows he’ll never go back. That place belongs in the light of day, the heat of summer, the sun where he’s not welcome. He has no right to it, not any more - the car door cut it out of him, and it bled to death somewhere in the rain when he wasn’t looking.)

breathe me, baby - not quite the janitor’s closet

(note: in the style of the Great Purge, this one has had to be… modified slightly for the sake of this post. i can’t imagine why…)

“What’s our rule, lovely?”

Bastard.

You’d tell him, if you were capable of complex thought right now. His voice is smooth and dark, murmuring against your neck as you desperately try to form the words to reply, but the hand over your mouth makes it a little bit difficult to say anything.

“Say it, baby, or I’ll stop…” You can hear the smirk in his voice as he says it, a low whisper in your ear as his hand slides further around your waist, pitching your hips back even more and groaning as [?????]. “What’s the matter?” It’s all so much - your heart races at the silken scrape of his teeth across your pulse, not quite enough to break the skin as he kisses your shoulder.

“My poor little lovely. Scared someone’s going to hear?”

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #IM SO SORRY #everything's happening all at once irl and it makes catching up w tumblr a nightmare #i have SO many rbs of people's fics and art that i've seen just sitting in my drafts bc i haven't had time to add appropriate tag ramblings #so prepare for that spam when it inevitably occurs

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brendonuriegotcancelled · 3 years ago

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TW: Mentions of R*pe

Let’s talk about the “joke” Brendon made a decade ago.

Times have changed and being a fan of Panic! at the Disco is different now than it was 11 years ago.

I’m gonna tell you why.

When Panic! at the Disco did their first main headlining tour in 2005/2006, the band began to notice what “skits” or “characters” would get the crowd going more.

For the Nothing Rhymes with Circus Tour that was Stage gay, though stage gay carried on until 2012.

Here is a video from that era of the same skit for several shows where Brendon is speaking to guitar player Ryan Ross. He walks up, kisses his cheek and turns to walk away saying “this is not that dream, this is hard, sweaty, angry crazy monstrous fucking”

You can hear the favorable reactions from fans.

youtube

Brendon had a “character” or “skit” so to speak for every show he did.

When their second album came out his skit was to teach the crowd how to dance before covering “Shout”

youtube

Brendon has been sexualized and invaded by his fans for years. I think at a certain point he just accepted and embraced that sexuality was going to be a part of his character.

Smutty fan fiction written about him and his band members together

People saying bizarre and sexual things to him in PERSON

People trying to kiss him at stage door

People trying to kiss/lick/grab him during Death Walk

There are many more examples of boundaries crossed by fans touching him without his consent or invading his privacy.

In 2011 after a line up change, the album Vices and Virtues was released. A handful of the tracks on this album were sexual in nature such as “Hurricane” “Stall me” and “Turn off the lights.”

The shows shared that energy with the crowd when Brendon would make sexual comments.

Here are some of the lyrics for Hurricane:

“Are you worth your weight in gold?

'Cause you're behind my eyelids when I'm all alone

Hey, stranger, I want you to catch me like a cold

You and God both got the guns

When you shoot, I think I'd duck

I led the revolution in my bedroom

And I set all the zippers free

We said, "No more war, no more clothes!"

Give me peace

Oh, kiss me”

This wasn’t a one sided kind of energy. The show in question including several others where he changed what he said slightly, is from 10 years ago and the crowd was rabid over Urie’s encore speech. I took some comments from the original video to show you that people were in fact, not offended at the time.

Brendon has a stage persona and it is very different from who he is as a person and he has said this several times on live stream. He did actually end up apologizing to someone personally at a meet and greet for making this joke. Here is an article clip from that show.

Was it a bad tasted joke? Yes. Did it offend people then? Kinda? Does it offend people now? Yeah. But again, this joke was made 10 years ago as you can see from the screenshots.

This is also not a joke he would make again but I agree with his statement below: That instead of dragging people we should be educating them or allowing them to educate themselves.

Just for a little bit of context to paint a whole picture:

Here is a video of Brendon talking about how horrific and disgusting he felt after being a juror for a child r*pe case to the point where he says he wouldn’t be able to do jury duty again because it was so traumatic for him.

youtube

The times have changed and the only difference between any ignorant jokes any of you have made and the ones Brendon has made is that his are public for the whole world to see. We as people, are not perfect and we need to allow each other to grow and change especially if the behavior in question was from a literal decade ago.

This is only one part to the handful of parts I’ll be making for the jokes people want addressed.

Shout out to PATDsnaps on YouTube for having a large amount of clipped YouTube videos for me to choose from when writing these blogs.

#brendon urie #panic! at the disco

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natty-taffy · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! Can we please get some Natasha x Avenger fem!reader where they are chilling at the compound during a snowy day and reader has Natasha in her arms, soothing her and the red head being all cuddly? Please and thank you!

hi, anon! I now absolutely love cuddly!nat, thank you for requesting me this one!

cuddle bug - [natasha x reader]

Summary: Natasha Romanoff is known to be a lot of things, but certain sides of her are reserved only for you

Words: 601

.ೃ࿔*:･

“Sing me the one from Cinderella again?” She whispers, tiptoeing in between conscience and the lack of it- her nose, rose tinted from the cold, brushes against your hand, silently asking for affection.

You smile, rearranging your position to better accommodate her on you, while travelling your hand through her soft jaw and all the way up to her braided hair.

Moving it’s not an easy task when her head is resting on your lap, her arms are wrapped tightly around your waist and her body closely curled against yours.

You could say it feels like you’ve stepped into a grapevine- but you doubt any vine could ever make you feel like you’ve just entered heaven, the way her body on yours does.

The thing about Natasha is that she’s a cuddle-bug, always craving your touches, your soft words and surprise kisses- and, honestly, who are you to deny this woman anything?

So you start humming the first chords of “So This Is Love”, not daring to utter a word too loud and risk waking her up completely, and, like ocean waves, the rise and fall of her chest slowly begins to fall into a steady rhythm.

She looks paradisiac.

You’re almost about to check if she’s already asleep when she interrupts you first, suddenly tugging your sweater “Baby, look!” and points at the window.

Sprinkling, with an outwordly peace, the first snowflakes of the winter now dance around the wind, gracing the sky before holding hands and resting by the windows.

With one movement, Natasha sits down on your lap, sleep long forgotten, giving her legs, now, the job of hugging your waist “Happy first snow of the season, моя жизнь!”

Her body is warm, just as her words, her smile and the breath on your neck- so, it’s only natural, that your smile melts into a bigger one- she feels like honey “Happy first snow of the season, love”

Another thing about Natasha is that her excitement about the little things is not only constant, but contagious- it’s about the first snow of the year, the way grass tickles her feet, dancing in the midst of a windy rain, eating raw cookie batter- those so undermost phenomenons that she cherishes so much and, along the way, made you fall even deeper for, too.

“I love you” You kiss her temple, long and softly, then, move down to her nose and her chin- she smiles with closed eyes at the glittering kisses, soaking every single second of it.

Dear God, this woman has your entire being wrapped around one pinky finger.

“I love you, too, любовь” She answers, lost in smiles and on the bliss of the moment- that’s how she’s the most beautiful to you, happy, almost golden “You allow me to be who I want to be... thank you”

You can’t help but feel like you haven’t understood the whole meaning of what she said, but you find peace in knowing you’re making her feel safe, either way- Natasha is a woman of multitudes, some of which you are still a stranger to, but that you love endlessly anyways.

“You know I’m here for whatever, don’t you?” She knows, but you ask just to let her hear it again.

And, apparently, it was the right thing to be said, since her eyes smile in a way they sparkle, almost shining at you.

“For forever, too” She says, and you’re not sure if to reassure herself or to let you know you’re stuck with her- but, for whichever one, you happily accept, kissing her temple.

“For forever, my cuddle-bug”

.ೃ࿔*:･

TRANSLATION

моя жизнь: my life

любовь: love

#natasha x reader #natasha x fem!reader #natasha romanoff #fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff has feelings #snowy days #nattytaffyarchive

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the-witch-of-one-piece · 3 years ago

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The Phoenix Knight (Marco x Fem Reader)

The Collaboration with the One Piece Fairy Tale Oneshots Event, hosted by @boa-h,@simpforroses , @jazminetoad, @lucciluv, @cherryblossom-chopper, @hollyberryfairy please check out the following posting dates for the following writers!

✨Hello my lovely Spirits! I'm a sucker for Fairy Tale stories, there is so much history in each fairy tale story and the era when they are created! This story in particular is a Danish decent story which is call The Green Knight. A lot of elements in this story does tie with Marco. One of them The Green Knight actually turns into a bird when meeting the princess and would morph into his human form. This is going to be one of my longer stories I will post and I swear to the holy heavens I didn't realize how long it was! Also have to mention there are some agnst parts on here. I hope you all enjoy this!✨

WC: 8,005 words

TW: Mention of death, Poison, Verbal Abuse, Marriage

“A princess like yourself shouldn’t be so weak. It's rather embarrassing to me and to your father.” the words echoed in your mind as you left to your room. The tears escaped from your eyes as you closed your room door. You couldn’t understand why your stepmother hated you so much. She was so kind and caring when you first met her when you were younger but she wasn’t your step mother at the time. She was a countess that lived close to the castle. You and her daughter grew up practically like sisters, always playing together as little girls, dressing up, and having tea parties. One day they were going to leave somewhere far away. I couldn’t bear to see two people so close to me leave.

My mother passed from cancer when I was very young. My father's heart was broken after my mother's passing, the woman he loved from the first time he saw her was gone forever…Before my mother passed her final request to my father was to accept any wishes I wanted to make, no matter what it was. My father promised her that final request and he honored every request since my mothers passing. As I saw the Countess and her daughter packing, I feared not having a complete family once again. The only thing I thought that would bring me and them happiness was to make a wish to my father. I request a wish from my father, to please marry the Countess.

In my father's mind, he was completely against the request but all he could say “As much as I don't want to do this. I will honor your request, my sweet child.” he accepted the request, shortly after they married and her true nature came out. Her cold harsh words day by day towards me. I would put on a brave face to show them I wasn’t weak but I would end up crying. I was so unhappy and so alone I didn’t want to eat or do anything. My step-sister, who was always so loving towards me, hated my guts if she saw something she liked that I have she took it. Seeing them for who they were I hated myself for falling for their tricks. After this last incident, I broke down. I couldn’t take it anymore. I just wanted to end my life…maybe that was the best solution to this whole ordeal. I wouldn’t suffer anymore for the harsh cruel words.

Would I really be at peace?

Your father saw how unhappy you became over the past months, once you were a ball of sunshine in his life and now you were a dim candle light flickering trying to stay burning. “My child.'' Father opened your room door. He walked toward your beds where you laid your tears hitting the pillow. The soft sobbing was all he could hear in the large room.

“I’m sorry father, I just don’t understand why… why would she say those horrible things to me?” wiping your eyes at the tears kept coming down. Your sleeve was completely wet from your tears as you continuously wiped them.

“No need to apologize.” your father seeing you like this was breaking his heart by the second. He felt he should have denied the one request and this would have never happened. You would be thriving happily, but due to the wish it couldn’t be changed…“I understand the pain you are feeling…I do not like seeing you like this.” he started off. “As much as I want you here with me I can’t see you going through this ever again.”

“What are you saying father?” looking at your father with a confused look. His words were not making any sense to you until he spoke once again, wiping the tears from your cheek.

“Somewhere you can live at peace away from the both of them…I built you a castle, the castle is located on an island surrounded by a lake. You can do anything you want there and live a happy life once again. I can promise you one thing, your stepmother and step-sister, they will never enter the castle grounds.” he gave a small sincere smile “My child you and your wellbeing are important to me and I will do everything to protect that…Please no more tears.”

The next day I was sent off to the new castle. For the first time in a long time, I felt at peace but the cruel harsh words still affected me once I entered the new castle grounds. The constant reminders of their harsh words imprinted in my brain, trying to see the positive things the words were becoming less frequent to me.

For 2 years I lived in peace without seeing my stepmother or step-sister. I was getting well, my light was shining once again. My father would often tell me the older I’ve gotten, the more I looked like my mother and I carried her beauty and grace the way she used to. The stories my father would tell me about my mother made me miss her. Even though I was young I know she loved the both of us very much. I could feel her presence with me at times when I was feeling alone or down. The comfort of her energy helped me relax.

For many nights I kept having the same dream. A dream of an enchanted creature that flew towards me, it was a phoenix. The mythical bird that was a bright blue with specks of yellow in it kept coming closer and closer. When the phoenix landed and morphed into a very handsome man, he wore a metal chest plate like a knight, his blonde hair slicked back and his blue feather cap resembled the phoenix that was just flying moments ago. I would refer to him as the Phoenix Knight.

Father came to visit but it was a rather short visit. He was going to travel far away to a tournament. He asked me if I had any special requests while he was away. I ask him to greet the Phoenix Knight for me. My father looked at me with an odd expression wondering if he heard correctly. He thought to himself, ‘Who is the Phoenix Knight?’ He didn't question but would honor your request.

Father traveled for many days, during the time of his travel he would ask every person he ran into if they had known where the Phoenix Knight lived. Each person would shake their head or respond with a no. He had no luck, no one knew who the Phoenix knight was or lived “was he a real person?’ he asked himself. Giving up hope your father felt disappointed that he couldn’t fulfill the request you asked him for. Riding home he was so distracted by his thoughts he was riding off the path until it was too late he was stuck in the dense forest. He didn’t know which way to go or how to get out. Unsure of where to go, he decided to push forward hoping to find a path that would lead to the main road. Hours passed and the king felt hopeless, his eyes were tired, he was hungry. His eyes continued through the thick dense forest, till he saw someone walking. Maybe this was his moment of luck. The king stopped and asked the man who was holding some baguettes and asked where he was at.

“You are in The Phoenix Knight forest. I’m surprised you traveled this long, not a lot of people can travel this long through the dense forest..” the man laughed as he rubbed his goatee.

“The Phoenix Knight ?!?” The king's head perked up hear what the man just said “Tell me sir, do you know where the Phoenix Knight lives?”

“Yeah, it is not far from here.” The man began to give instructions to the King on how to get to The Phoenix Knight Castle.

“Thank you sir.” the King thanked him for the directions.He felt like a weight was off his shoulders knowing the Phoenix Knight existed.

“No problem, please call me Thatch, your majesty.” He gave a smile.

“Thank you, Thatch” the king rode off. Thatch watched the king head toward the direction where the Phoenix Knights lived before turning back to the path he was walking.

Shortly after taking the instructions from Thatch. The King saw the most marvelous castle, on the outside of the castle was a lovely garden with fountains that were displayed on marble basins. The king making his way down the path saw a man walking to one of the fountains, taking a seat in his hand and he had a book. On a hunch, the King knew it was the Phoenix Knights. A very handsome man, who wore a metal chest plate like a knight, his blonde hair slicked back, and his feather cap that resembled phoenix feathers. When Phoenix Knight noticed the king's approach, he closed his book and stood up. He was rather curious to see someone make it through the dense forest.

“You are the Phoenix Knight?” The king asked.

“Yes, I’ve been called the Phoenix Knight due to my blue father cap yoi, but my real name is Marco.” He gave an idle smile while looking at the king.

“Pleasure to meet you, Marco. I’ve been looking for you during my journey to a tournament but I’ve gotten lost in that time trying to find you.” The king said.

Marco looked at the king raising his brow unsure why this king was looking for him. “Is there a reason you were looking for me?” Marco curiously asked the king.

“I’ve come to give you my daughter's greetings.” the king responded.

Marco was taken aback by the king's words. He was questioning himself. Did he meet them before and he must have forgotten? But Marco was good at remembering faces and he was sure he had never seen this King's face before. Marco could see the King looked exhausted and most likely hungry as he traveled a great deal on his journey. “I’m not sure why your daughter wanted to send me a greeting but it was nice of her…. Why don’t you stay for the night? It's rather late and the path is unbearable to see at night yoi.” Marco offered. The king accepted Marcos' offer but knew he had to set off early the next morning. During dinner your father spoke about how once you had this bright fire that glowed brightly till your flame became dull when your stepmother became the Queen. Marco saw how much your father loved you and wanted you happy. Before his father passed his father wanted Marco to be happy as well live a life with someone by his side that loved him for him.

During the night Marco couldn’t sleep. The words the king said pondered in his mind ~my daughter's greeting~ It was very coincidental that he kept dreaming of a girl who appeared to be lonely, almost wanting to give up on life. Then this king appeared with a message from his daughter. ‘Her life is fading away yoi..’ Marco thought to himself. Marco remembered his father's words he often spoke up until his death bed. ‘There are signs everywhere my son follow them they will lead you the way to your happiness.’ Marco got out of bed, following this sign he had to do something, the king would be leaving first thing in the morning and he wanted to make sure he left with something to give to you. That night Marco stood up creating a beautiful casket for your father to take inside he place to special it's one a small blue book and a phoenix feather. Marco looked at his night stand and the drawer that kept something special in there.

Early the next morning the king was getting ready to leave as he got on his horse, he was stopped by Marco. “Your highness if you could please give this to the princess.” Marco held a small jeweled casket. The King took a hold of the casket that was decorated with saphire gems. “Inside the casket will be a book she shall read and a phoenix feather.”

Your father nodded and bid a farewell to the Phoenix Knight. Days passed before your father made it back from his trip and the first stop was to visit you. He was rather eager to tell you everything he encountered. Hearing your father's story about the search for the Phoenix Knights. Feeling your heart swell up, your cheeks were a bit red. He handed you a casket. “The Phoenix Knight sent a gift for you, my dear daughter, a beautiful casket inside there is a book and a phoenix feather from Marco.”

“His name is Marco.” you felt yourself smiling opening the casket to see the little blue book and a beautiful feather that was blue. As much as you wanted to open the book you couldn't, not just yet you wanted to spend time with your father, since he was gone for a while. The rest of the day you have dinner with your father also hearing what else he did on his trip.

Later that evening in your room you opened the casket reaching for the blue feather and the little blue book. Admiring the beautiful feather you placed it right next to your bed stand. You made your way to the balcony holding the little blue book close to your chest. Taking a deep breath as you opened the little blue book the pages were empty but one sentence. “He shall emerge from the sky in his phoenix form to show his true self to me.” you read outloud. Moments after reading the sentence the wind began to pick up, the tree brustling from the wind. There were no clouds in the sky as you could see millions of stars twinkling down at you, The moon shone bright as well as the reflection hitting off the lake in the distance. In the sky, your eyes caught a familiar sight. The same enchanted creature in your dreams began making its way toward you. ‘The phoenix’ Before landing it rested on the rail of the balcony as it looked at you. Seeing its claws scratch the railing before jumping off you could see the creature morphing into a person as his feet touch the ground. He was the same person in your dreams.

Marco's eyes adjusted to see you the same girl from his dreams. Both of you looked at each other for a minute. You were honestly still in a bit of shock your cheeks dusted with a rouge color looking at the man.

Is this a dream? Is he really in front of me? God why am I so awkward right now woman speak!

Before he spoke, clearing his voice . “Good evening princess,” He bowed to you. “I’m Marco also known as the Phoenix Knight. I received your greeting from your father, the king….I have to say I was rather curious to see the lovely princess who sent me a greeting yoi.” Marco has a charming smile..

Your heart was racing 1000 miles fast, trying to keep your composure before responding “Pleasure to meet you Marco I’m Princess _____ it's an honor to meet you.” you did a curtsy. You really didn’t expect your father to find him but he did and he is right in front of you. “I honestly didn’t expect my father to find you.” you bashfully said to him.

“But he did.” he gave a small smile. Marco could sense the sadness inside you even though your face didnt express sadness. Remembering the King's words about you were losing your flame. “If I may say your highness, I do sense a great deal of sadness. Would you care to talk about them, yoi?”

Looking down at your dress “I don’t want to bother you about my issues, my stepmother and step-sister are something I have to deal with.” you said in a meek tone. Just a mention of them and you can remember the insults and memories.

You stood quietly, only mentioning them, Marco walked over to you grabbing your hand. “They are not here to harm you ______. I’m here to listen to your worries.” his calm voice soothing your anxious feeling away. You spoke of the events of everything you encountered with your stepmother and step-sister from the first time you met her. She was as sweet as pie until she wed your father. You blame yourself for your predicament right now. All the negative talk towards you, made you feel so worthless. Marco could tell you were speaking the truth, a deep hurt you were still facing and how insecure this made you feel. The next words he spoke were gentle “you are truly a beautiful person on the inside and out. You should never feel like you are less than anyone.”

His words truly meant something to you. He didn’t see anything remotely close to you being weak or worthless those words spoken to you by your stepmother and step-sister. He saw it as a form of jealousy and if people were shining bright and happy, they wanted to bring them down to their level and make them feel miserable just like them. For the time you endure that behavior from them he considers you a strong person, something Marco admired, your pure heart of just wanting a family and making other people happy as well.

As the night went on and it grew later and later both of you were lost in conversation. He could see the talk help you let your guard down. He caught your beautiful smile, your cute laugh and the way you paid attention when he was speaking. When it was time to bid our farewells you didn’t want this to be the only time you saw him, so you asked “When can I see you again?”

Marco’s idle smiled appeared once again and looked at you “Everytime the sun sets and as you read the sentence from the little blue book I will come…I enjoyed my time with a beautiful princess like yourself yoi.” he kissed the back of your hand his lips were soft against your hand “please get some rest, Princess _______.”

Pink hues dusted your cheeks as you nodded “Good night Marco.”

“Good night sweet princess may you have sweet dreams tonight yoi.”

Once you closed the book he disappeared. You haven't felt this happiness in a long time laying in bed. You held onto the feather looking at the beautiful blue color, all you could do was think about was Marco. Even just thinking of his name got you all giggly. That night you slept with a smile on your face. Ready for the day to begin so it could be evening once again.

Marco returned to his castle. The imprint of your sweet smile played in his mind and he caught himself smiling. He hadn’t connected with someone like that before, he honestly didn't want to leave as he wanted to continue the talk with you. Sitting at the edge of his bed he reached in his nightstand drawer there was a small box inside it was a sapphire ring. This ring would be the ring he would propose to the person he loved. Marco looked at the ring and imagined it on your finger. “She could be the one yoi.” he softly said to himself. That night he placed it on his nightstand top. His hands resting behind his head as he looked at the ceiling, feeling his eyes grow heavier by the min he felt himself drifting to sleep. The dream he had wasn’t of you sad or lonely but smiling and laughing. Even though he was asleep he echoed the words while being unconscious “her smile.”

The staff in the castle noticed a difference in your attitude and appearance. You seemed to have this glow around you. You couldn’t stop smiling,even your father saw it and could tell you were feeling better. He thanked the Phoenix Knight in his mind for helping you, his daughter become more like your old self again. Many nights passed as you looked forward to the evening wanting to see Marco once again. Each evening Marco greeted you with the same idle smile. You and Marco stopped using formal names with one another and used your regular names with each other.. The simple gestures you both did for one another showed how much you cared for each other. Even though the words ‘i love you’ never came out you both felt the love. The sweet words you both exchanged with one another was all you needed; those meant something special to you and to Marco.

Marco pondered on the idea more and more till he knew it was the right time to ask. He wanted to take the next step, since the days passed he kept the small box with the sapphire ring with him waiting and how to approach you. He saw the perfect time. “My sweet ________, the time we have spent together has been such a sweet bliss with each encounter we have had. I enjoy my time with you and I know you feel the same way yoi.”

“It has been Marco.” you rested your hands on top of his, giving it a light squeeze. “I couldn’t have been more grateful to have met such a wonderful person like you, You brought this light into my life. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“There is something I want to ask you.” He said in a soft tone.

“What is it??” you asked him.

Marco rose from his seating position that was next to you he stood in front and began to get on one knee. “I never experienced this type of connection we have with any other person before. You are in my dreams when I sleep, you are in my thoughts as I go about my day. You are the light I have been missing in my life _______, Will you marry me yoi?” Marco took the small box out of his coat to display the blue sapphire ring inside. Without hesitation you agreed, Marco placed the ring on your fingers as he was getting up you hugged him immediately lifting you up and spinning your a few times. Marco still wanted to ask your father for your hand in marriage but knowing if your stepmother found out she would be furious. “Everything will have be quiet for the time being. I still wish to ask your father for your hand in marriage. When I ask your father and he agrees, you will come with me to my palace where we can live as husband and wife.” Agreeing that this should be quiet for the time being. Marco promises to visit as he did every evening, this cherished secret was only for you both to know. Looking at the ring on your finger it fits perfectly. “Another sign it was meant to be ______.”

More days have passed since everyone in the castle observed you, as you hummed a tune as you went about your day. Of course, they were happy to see you happy but when they would ask what has made you so cheerful and happy more than usual you would simply respond “it’s nothing just seeing the brighter side of things.”

The night came once again when you sat on the balcony reciting the phrase. Seeing the majestic phoenix soaring through the sky, the only difference this time you weren’t the only one that had seen it this time. On the outskirts of the lake, a woman that worked in the main palace watched as the phoenix made its way towards you. She was in disbelief, she had to notify someone about this strange event she had just witnessed. The king had gone on a trip to discuss trades with the local kingdom. This information was given to the Queen. Hearing how this strange phoenix flew onto your balcony and overheard a conversation between two maids about how well you were doing displeased her. The Queen looked down at the girl who was bowing in front of her. “Listen girl, I want you to keep an eye on that phoenix, follow its patterns and report back to me.” In a demanding tone, the Queen was sitting on her throne before she got up walking towards the woman that was bowing. “Oh, and girl this is between me and you. The king does not need to know what is going on. Got it?”

The woman feared the queen as she looked up at her. The cold dark eyes glared at the woman “y-yes my queen.”

“Be gone now.” The Queen shooing her off. Walking to the study she grabbed a piece of paper and a quail, dipping it in the ink she began to write. If she got rid of the phoenix you would perish right after. Your one bit of happiness would be gone for good; you would be out of her life once and for all. She finished the letter placing it in an envelope before sealing it she placed one of her rings on the inside. “That should be more than enough for what I need.”

She ordered a messenger, and when he arrived in her presence, he saw the envelope in her hand. “Where would you like me to send this letter your majesty?” he bowed to her.

“This goes to the mad man they call Caesar. Let him know the Queen wants this as it is time-sensitive; it needs to be brought back with you. Understand?”

“of course your majesty.” The man responded. The messenger had heard of the mad man before but never his face. Different stories from different people freaked the messenger out just a bit knowing the Queen was up to no good.

The woman night after night watched the Phoenix land on your balcony. The Phoenix landed on the same rail before disappearing into your room. She never saw the majestic bird leave no matter how late it was; she never saw the Phoenix disappear in the night. She thought maybe it disappears after a certain time. The woman managed to enter the castle to observe your behavior as she was there to deliver some items from the main castle. When you weren’t in your room she decided to get some info. Looking around the room she didn't find anything out of the ordinary, stumbling onto the balcony, she noticed what appeared to be claw marks on the railing. As the girls reported back to the Queen she told her about the claw marks on the railing in the room.

“I see the creature has a favorite spot to land at.” she spoke before walking to the table where a small box was placed opening the container was a small elixir. This concoction she had in her hands was the creation of the mad man Caesar in the letter she requested poisons that would take down any creature that caused them a slow and painful death. Just an ounce of that touched a human or creature they would fall greatly ill day after day. “This mixture right here I want you to pour it where the claw marks are.” handing the woman the elixir.

The woman furrowed her brows a bit in confusion. “Will this harm the creature, my Queen??” she asked.

“If you mean by harm you mean get rid of the pesky bird then yes.” Seeing the wicked smile appear on her face.

The woman's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach seeing the intentions of the Queen “ But your highness I-.” she was cut off by the Queen.

“Are you going to try and refuse an order from your queen now!? It’s not a wise you foolish girl. When I give an order you do it now, understand!” the threatening tone fears the woman.

In a quivering tone, the girl responded “m-my apologize your highness.” closing her hand as she placed the vial in her pocket.

The woman feared for herself and her well-being the Queen would make her life a living hell if she didn't do what she said. The woman manages to make her way into the castle. Entering your room she didn't find you in there. Taking the vial from her pocket she began to pour the mixture into the claw marks on the railing. She quickly left the room before anyone saw her enter. The girl was apologizing in her mind over and over as she was walking down the hall. She felt conscious eating her up on the inside. She was only thinking of her own safety at the time. ‘Im sorry my princess.’

In the garden, you began to see the sun beginning to set. Calmly walking to your room you began to imagine you and Marco happily married seeing future ideas you both talked about before.. This sent your cheeks blushing the whole way down to your room. Walking to your room you fix your hair before grabbing the small blue book. The sun was down, as you opened the book “He shall emerge from the sky in his phoenix form to show his true self to me.” reading the passage. Spotting the blue phoenix appearing in the sky the wind slightly brushed up the trees. Marco landed in his usual spot, his claws fit the marked ones he left. Marco hops off the rail turning into his human form. “Good evening my future wife yoi.” Marco’s lazy grin planted on his face. Walking closer he picked your hand up, placing a kiss. You and Marco haven't shared a kiss on the lips yet. You were nervous about it, just him kissing the back of your hand your cheeks were on fire.

“And good evening to you my future husband,” you said in a playful tone. You’ve gone into town earlier that day to pick something up for him. “I got you something.”

“Really now?” Marco was intrigued when he saw you walking to your bed grabbing something from underneath the pillow.

“Sorry it took so long, I wanted to make sure it was perfect before giving it to you.” It was a small blue box. Marco had a bit of pink on his cheeks as he saw you open it. Inside he saw a blue gold ring. “The craftsman that made the ring let me know this is a rare piece." You grabbed Marcos left hand placing it on the ring finger.

Marco was a bit stunned by the dark blue ring that fitted perfectly on his finger. “______.” Marco giving you an embrace.

Marco spoke about you often in his castle to his friends and the servers letting them know his future wife will be arriving soon. His servants and friends around the castle saw him differently; they saw him smiling more than usual. Marco remembered certain things you enjoyed. He added them around the castle so when you arrive it would make you more comfortable. He was planning on speaking to your father this week but was notified he was out on business. Marco imagined himself waking up next to you in his arms. As you are still sleeping he would admire your sleeping figure pressing his lips against your forehead. When peaking your eyes open he would tell you good morning yoi giving you a sweet kiss..

Marco and you swayed to the music in your minds, your head resting against his chest. He had taken off the metal chest plate. You could hear his steady heartbeat through his chest. “I don't ever want this to end,” you said, letting out a content sigh as you closed your eyes for a brief moment .

“Soon we can do this and more yoi.” his hands held you a bit closer.

Looking up at Marco his eye met with yours, your hands resting against his chest. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, his hand traveled to the bottom of your chin. Marco looked at your lips then back at your eyes. Like a magnet, you both leaned forward your lips connecting, and at that moment nothing else mattered. The kiss lasted a few moments before drawing your lips back from one another.

“I have get going ______, I will see you tomorrow,” he said in a hushed tone that you could hear as he caressed your cheek.

“I love you Marco.” feeling your heart wanting to explode wanted to scream from the top of your lungs.

“I love you too ____,” he responded, the corner of his mouth curled up. He kissed your forehead “I look forward to tomorrow yoi.”

“Me too.” you walked to the open book on the counter, your hand you closed the book. Turning around you noticed the chest plate on your bed as it didn't disappear. Your fingers touched the cold metal plate, the kiss that happened minutes ago replayed in your mind. Your fingertips touched your lips and you let a smile out.

As Marco arrived at his castle it was dark and quiet he headed to his room. Something felt strange and he couldn't explain it. Maybe he was tired and needed some rest so he lay in his bed and began to fall into a slumber. The poisons that was placed where he landed got into his claws and feet. As the morning arrived Marco couldn’t get out of bed, the feeling of no energy he broke out in a cold sweat. His muscles ached and he couldn’t figure out what was the cause. The doctors couldn’t figure out what was the cause either. Marco felt useless all he could think about was ______ he couldn’t go and see her.

“I’m fine, I need to get ready for tonight.” Marco said in a groggy tone.

“Sir you must not get up.” the servant tried to keep in bed.

He tried to argue with the staff as he tried to get up and see her but he fell to the floor. “Dammit!” Marco shouted. He was letting this happiness he found slip away from his hands. He couldn’t do anything about it. Marco looked at the ring on his finger given to him last night “I’m sorry ______ yoi.”

The night approaches making your way to the balcony. This routine you had was almost like a ritual now for you . Flipping to the page and then reciting “He shall emerge from the sky in his phoenix form to show his true self to me” you waited a moment but nothing happened. You thought to yourself that you read it wrong? Repeating the phrase carefully once more but nothing. You felt an anxious feeling coming back into your chest. Closing the book, you walked to your bed and began to question yourself ‘did I do something wrong??’ That night you couldn’t sleep. You felt a bit exhausted 3 days in a row as you repeated the phrase he didn’t show. Each night you cried you didn't sleep, you feared you did something to scare him off. The light inside of you began to grow dim. You didn't want to leave your rooms or eat. You looked at the phoenix feather on your nightstand. You closed your puffy swollen eyes as you turned around. It was too much to look at even though it was just a feather.

Your Father arrived home and was given word about how you changed and was informed of the news of your recent downhill you were taking.. Your father worried about how it all changed in a matter of days. As the queen heard she was secretly happy knowing it was just a matter of time before he gave up on life.

Sitting on the balcony the sun's rays hit your skin. You looked down at the garden seeing the flowers moving as the wind passed through them. The flowers were so beautiful and vibrant in color they had so much life compared to you. “Hello miss???” you heard a voice that seemed rather small. No one appeared around you or in your room. You felt like you were going insane for a moment. Hearing a small chirp “over here.” you turned to see a small yellow bird as it looked at you on the rail.

“Did you just speak?” you asked the bird. You didn't expect it to respond.

“Yup! I traveled for many days to find you!” the bird responded.

“Really?” looking at the bird as your scoot closer you extended your hand out to the small bird as it hopped onto your hand. “Where did you come from??”

“I come from the Phoenix Knight castle. My master has often spoken about you and how you will be his soon-to-be wife.” the bird commented.

“Marco??” you raised your brow, you haven’t seen him since the night you both kissed. Then you wonder why this small bird travels from the Phoenix Knight castle and not Marco. “Is Marco upset with me?”

“No no Princess my master is sick… He was poisoned when he was in his phoenix form when visiting you last… it was the Queen doing.” The bird was on his way to meet with you when heard two crows chatting and in this chat, he heard about what the Queen had done and how you were depleting in health. The small bird knew it couldn’t waste any more time as he flew as fast as he could to you. “He is not doing well and we fear for the worst he may not make it.” Hearing the small bird's words made your heart drop. Before you spoke the small bird spoke once again “but there is a way to save him, Princess.”

In your mind, you felt anger and rage hearing that your stepmother was the cause of Marco’s illness. She was truly a miserable person. Right now all you could think about was how to save Marco. “What can I do to help?” asked the bird.

“An adder in your horse's stable just gave birth to 9 babies. Collect the babies and make your way to the Phoenix castle, let them know you are interested in working in the kitchen and plead for the position as it has just recently opened. You are supposed to make a soup with the adders. Have him drink the soup. Repeat this 3 days in a row and the master will be cured…. But a few things I have to mention is you have to cook the soup yourself with no help or it won't work, no one is allowed to look into the pot, only the master is allowed too. If these rules are broken it wont work and the master will die….. I will lead you to the Phoenix castle once you collect the baby adders. I will be waiting for you by the stables.'' The small bird flew off in the direction of the horse stable’s.

Walking into your room you had to prepare for the journey but you couldn’t let anyone know where you were going. If your stepmother finds out she will try to stop you and you will never get there. At the stroke of midnight, you quietly sneaked out of the castle making your way to the stable. You searched and found the baby adders. Placing them in a sack you took one of the stable horses as quietly as you could. You began to set off the small bird and managed to keep up with you as you made your way into the forest.

Marco couldn’t eat, he could barely keep his eyes open. The days that passed by he knew he let you down. He turned his head to his nightstand, a small hairpin that you used to have in your hair layed there. He managed to pick up the item, his eyes continued to look at the small item in his hand. ~I love you, Marco~ he could vividly hear your voice in his mind. Marco started to accept he might not make it. None of the doctors could figure out how to cure the poison in his body. “_____, I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you yoi.” bringing the items to his lips as he placed a kiss on the small hairpin. The servants outside the door could hear Marco's words of sorrow; they couldn’t do anything to help him. The palace was quiet not knowing what would happen to their master.

You traveled nonstop till you arrived at the beautiful Phoenix Knight Castle. You are dressed in more commoner clothing as you approach begging for a job. The man who was running the kitchen decided it wouldn't be for long due to their master's health decreasing... “If I may request one thing, sir, let me prepare the soup for the master today. I’m known to make the best soup in my village, but I must prepare it alone and no one shall look into the pot, only the Phoenix knight.” looking up at the tall man with pleading eyes.

He couldn’t say no to seeing a pretty girl wanting to help his master become well but with every soup given to him, he couldn’t eat and he had no appetite, with a weary smile. “If you claim to make the best soup I shall let you cook today.” Thatch maybe was hoping for a miracle too. He grew up with the Phoenix Knight; he didn't want to see him die. He also knew a big reason why Marco wasn’t eating was because he was missing you.

“Thank you sir Thatch.” you bowed to him “I appreciate your confidence in me.”

“Don’t let me down (fake name).” Thatch smiled. He called the rest of the kitchen crew out of the kitchen. It just left you alone. You began to prepare the soup using three of the 9 adders that were in the bag.

As soon as the soup was done the maid took the pot to Marco's room. The maid wouldn’t look into the pot per request from Thatch.. Marco was sitting up in bed as the pot of soup was brought to him. This was a different smell than what Thatch usually cooked for him. Taking a spoonful of the soup, it was actually really good. He hasn’t tasted anything in days and this was the only thing he could taste. After finishing the bowl of soup he noticed he had a bit more energy and his fever went down, Marco requested to see Thatch. Thatch walking into the room he saw the difference in Marco “Thatch did you make this yoi?” he asked him.

“Uhh no one of our new helpers did, was it bad?” Thatch waited for his response.

“No, it wasn’t bad after finishing it... I started to feel better.” Marco moved his hands a bit. “Whoever made the soup tell them to make it for me from now on please.”

Thatch was stunned by their words of Marco. Thatch carried the pot to the kitchen where he found you cleaning up. “I have some good news. He liked the soup and he started to feel better. Is there a way you can make it again?” Thatch asked.

“Of course, I shall make it for him tomorrow as well.” you happily said.

On the second day making the soup Marco ate it once again, he felt his energy coming back, and he was able to stay up longer. Marco began to hold onto the string of hope as he was getting well quickly. He would be able to see you once again. That's all he wanted to do but knew he couldn’t do it at this time. But knowing you were closer to him than he thought.

On the third day, the last three adders were placed into the soup. As the soup was brought up Marco began to eat. It didn't take him long to finish the hot bowl of soup. Marco was able to get out of his bed without feeling weak. He felt like he wasn’t dying at all like he was a few days ago. Marco opened the door to his room and his servants were surprised to see him up. “Tell me is (fake name) in the kitchen right now yoi?” he asked, “I must thank them for the soup.”

“Yes, she is. She must be cleaning up right now.” the servant responded.

Marco walked down the stairs to the kitchen. The kitchen was empty but he saw you with your back turned to him as you were doing the dishes. “(fake name)” Marco called to you.

Your heart was beating fast as you heard Marco's voice. He began making his way towards you. “I want to thank you for curing me of my sickness yoi.”

Slowly turned around looking up at the blonde-haired man's face. His eyes widened to see you were the person who made him the soup. “Your welcome..Marco” you softly said you could feel your eyes beginning to welt up with tears.

“______” Marco gave you an embrace holding you in his arms as he heard you softly sob. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“You didn’t do anything, Marco. It wasn’t your fault you got sick. Right now I’m glad you are better.” holding onto him tighter. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too yoi.” he rubbed your back. You lifted your head at him, he swiped your tears away with his thumb. Inside his mind, he imagined the journey you took to get here to where he was at it wasn’t something down the street it was days away from one another's home. He has seen the sapphire ring still on your finger. “You are truly a blessing in my life _____.” his lips pressed against your forehead. Moments after the forehead kiss “I love you _____ yoi.” he said in a whispering tone.

“I love you too Marco.” responding in the same whispering tone. Slowly drawing your lips to one another you felt his lips against yours. All your sorrows had washed away. Some of the servers and the head cook heard the conversation between you and Marco. They couldn’t be happier.

The wedding was held shortly after. When your father was informed of the Queen's dirty doings he banished her from the kingdom, to never to set foot there again. Your father couldn’t have been happier to see you shine brightly once more. Months have passed as you and Marco lived in the Phoenix Knight Castle and as Marco imagined many times, him waking up as he held you in his arms. He brushed the strands of hair away from your face, seeing you peacefully in slumber as you nestled close to him. His hand went underneath the covers, traveling to your abdomen feeling the small bulge forming. “This is true happiness yoi.'' in a quiet tone not wanting to disturb your slumber Marco held you once again close to him, he placed a sweet kiss on the top of your head before his eyes grew heavier and fell back asleep. Feeling his warm embrace as you didn’t open your eyes but a smile lifted on your face. Marco and you didn’t expect the surprise to happen so fast but it did. This was the family you wanted and you were able to share it with someone that truly loved you for you. All the memories we shared with one another held a special place in both of your hearts. From that love you both created a little blessing of your own that will live on with a piece of you and Marco together.

Tagging: @undercoverweeeb @kristaline2dmensimp @fireflykaizoku

#marco x reader #marco the phoenix #the witch of one piece #valval speaks #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #one piece #marco the pineapple #one piece x reader insert #op marco #fushichou marco #marco #marco one piece #one piece marco #one piece fairy tale oneshots #one piece collab #fairy tale au #the green knight #being retold

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duskamethyst · 4 years ago

Text

cozen.

a/n: just realized that the colors of my banners are different on laptop and phone and that pissed me off.

word count: 3.9k

genre: smut, nsfw

warnings: noncon/dubcon, exhibitionism, public sex, thigh riding, squirting, sexual assault, stalking, power abuse

pairing: aizawa x f!reader

summary: where aizawa deliberately takes on the roll as your guardian inside the train, but of course he has other plans.

the worst place to be during the rush hour would be inside a train.

aizawa never bothered to commute because he often walked to work and back home but for you, he was willing to make an exception.

you caught his attention during one of his evening patrols, walking alone in the big city with a short skirt that accentuated your curves and long legs. aizawa discovered the fact that you used the train to get to work daily and with the fact that you were always alone, he knew that you were always put in a vulnerable situation. so, he thought; why not keep an eye on you? maybe his job as a hero could give him a little advantage too.

like a child, he finds himself eager to get on the train. of course, he doesn’t really know which coach you would be standing in but his commute turns out to be so much worth it whenever he does end up standing in the same one as you.

in the morning, you would be there before he gets in and he’s the first one to step off the train in the evening. he assumes that you live somewhere closer to the end of the train’s final stop but he doesn’t know exactly where. so far, he has learned which station you use to wait for the train for your ride home from work.

and today seems to be one of those days where he is lucky enough to see you in the same coach, squeezed between a throng of people. aizawa always noticed the fed up and uncomfortable look on your face as you held on to the bar but it was because of no other than a pervert deliberately rubbing his front on your backside.

he’s sort of mad that you just let it happen, quietly accepting the assault being thrown at you. he can see how your face is contorted into anger and vexation as you try to nudge the man with your elbow and what he assumes as the man muttering half-assed apologies before he starts to blatantly repeat the same shit again.

you look around pleadingly for someone to intervene and your hands are balled into tight fists, ready to swing any moment but you hesitate because you’re afraid of being the one who will end up getting into trouble and especially since you don’t have any concrete evidence that you’re being harassed either.

for a moment, his gaze locks briefly with yours before you turn away, probably to seek for someone else to come to your aid. he knows that almost no heroes ride the train, since they either patrol on the streets or keep watch from up above but he is currently the outlier, and what kind of hero would he be if he just continues to turn a blind eye on this? maybe it’s time for him to steal the opportunity to play hero and finally get an excuse to talk to you after a long time of observing you from the sidelines.

aizawa slowly pushes the people aside to make his way over to your side and takes you by surprise by putting his hand on your shoulder.

“baby, why didn’t you pick up the phone?” he sighs and says a little too loudly so the creep behind you can hear. you look at him perplexingly but he just gives you a silent look that tells you to play along.

“u-uh.. i’m sorry. my phone is on silent.” you try to reply with the same tone. “but i’m glad you found me! thought i’ve lost you.”

the way you inch closer to him doesn’t go unnoticed, especially how your boob is literally pressing on his side. aizawa quickly glances to the man who still seems to be unbothered by the fake acting (not that he can tell) so he spins you around to face him instead.

good lord. maybe he shouldn’t have done that.

now aizawa can clearly see that your tits are squished against his chest through the unbuttoned top of your little white blouse. your gaze strays somewhere else, probably in embarrassment or maybe you don’t mind at all– he can’t tell nor can he think straight right now but he’s here for one purpose and he’s going to honor it.

“how’s work today?” he inquires, turning your head to him with his fingers so it would seem like you both are engaging in a natural conversation between lovers. he is able to see your tired eyes up close but they seem to carry the same soft look he’s so smitten with.

“hard.” he tenses up a little at the possibility of you noticing the erection in his pants but thank god they’re baggy or else the tent would be obvious. “i missed you.”

aizawa’s heart is bursting in his chest but he places on his mask of unfazed expression perfectly. he still has a role to play after all.

he leans down to whisper in your ear yet his eyes bore intimidatingly into the man’s, “i’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart. but i promised to take good care of you tonight, remember?”

perhaps that was a bit of an overstate, but hey, it works. now that the man has caught on, he immediately walks off the train as soon as it stops– not even bothering whether it's where he’s supposed to go or not as he tries to run away from the possibility of getting into trouble with another guy.

“you okay?” he steps back and takes a good look at you only to realize how you’re avoiding his gaze to hide your evidently flushed face. how cute. “you don’t look so good.”

“i-i’m fine.” you mutter. “thank you for saving me.”

“no problem. it’s a part of my job. i just happened to be here.” he points out in a blatant lie.

you look at him in surprise as if finally connecting the dots, “wait, are you a hero?”

“uh, i guess– yes, i am.”

it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a hero being vague about his profession– or maybe you just made him feel uncomfortable to admit that he’s one when you, a quirkless citizen should be acknowledging the heroes that are risking their lives to protect the country so they should at least deserve some recognition, him included.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t recognize you and i don’t really keep up with the heroes.” you laugh nervously, afraid of offending the male. though you can’t really tell what he thinks nor can you tell if he even cares from the look on his face but he only observes you silently before his lips turn to a lopsided smile.

he doesn’t take it to heart, of course, but he finds it endearing that you’re trying to make him feel better. aizawa is not one that likes to be in the limelight anyway, so he doesn’t blame you.

the number of people in the train gradually dissipates as the train stops station by station, leaving him and you together with some other few who have taken their seats to doze off. aizawa’s platform has long passed by but he decides to stay with you with intent to know where you actually live.

aizawa doesn’t speak much the whole ride, only answering your questions and listening to you as you talk about your life. he learns that you’re a fresh graduate who just started working in an office and saving up to buy a car so you don’t have to trouble yourself with train rides anymore. he doesn’t know why you entrust him with the fact that you live alone in your apartment, but he’s relieved that you do. maybe it’s easy to trust a hero. man or not.

but his filthy gaze lingers around your body once in a while– blood rushes to his cock when he sees the plush thighs that are exposed from your short skirt as you sit, the two buttons on your blouse that looks like they’re about to pop off from your breasts and the way your puffy lips jut out slightly when you stare out the window to watch the sun slowly disappears below the horizon to make way for the dark sky. the ride would’ve been peaceful if not for the uncomfortable throb inside his pants right now.

and soon enough, you stand up from your seat and grab your bag in preparation to step off from the agonizing ride.

“this is my stop. thank you again, eraser head. it’s nice meeting you!” you beam sweetly before you walk off the train and wave him goodbye as the doors slowly closes between the two of you.

aizawa can’t wait to see you again tomorrow– but now he needs a change of pace. since he doesn’t want to take risk of you finding out that he intentionally missed his platform, he chooses to only ride the train in the evening now.

with his height, aizawa is able to see you looking around as soon as you step into the train with exhaustion written all over your face. however, it’s instantly washed away with an exuberant look when you notice him staring at you from the other side. his heart swells with joy as he watches you push yourself through the crowd with your bag covering your chest protectively.

“found you, eraser!” you chirp as you stand in front of the male.

“oh? so you were looking for me?” he replies coyly, sinking lower into his scarf to keep his burning cheeks out of sight.

you nod eagerly and sigh, “i looked for you this morning too, but i guess you were on a different coach or something.”

“why? you wanted to use me so i’d protect you from perverts?”

“oops. busted.” you laugh.

if that’s the one thing that binds you and him, he doesn’t really mind. aizawa is pleased to know that you’re willing to be around him as much as he does. it then comes to a point where you both promise to be in the same coach in the evening.

it has been over a week since aizawa restrained his lecherous intentions. all of those days he has seen you don that short skirt that seems to hug your ass so well. every weekday evening he gets to glance down over your cleavage when you press yourself closely against him and when you’re not facing him? he can feel that ass just lightly brushing, teasing him when the train shakes and he knows he won’t be able to take it any longer.

what is he waiting for anyway? when this is all what he coveted in the first place? fuck playing the reliable hero.

aizawa doesn’t want to regard himself and the creeps inside the train as equals. he’s different. he’s a hero and because of that, he got you always wanting to stay close to him without him compelling. you’re so sweet to him, so trusting and you never give him the dirty look whenever he places his hand too low on your back.

more people are joining in from different stations so as usual, aizawa quickly pulls you into a corner nearby one of the doors which he knows won’t be opening for people to get in and get out. he only keeps guard by standing behind you as you take in the view of the same buildings and skyline.

“you have no idea how much i’m dying to own a car.” you sigh as you stare outside the glass window unheedingly and completely oblivious to your surroundings.

“yes. you’ve said that a million times.” he carefully inches closer (as much as he can anyway) and bravely takes a whiff of your shampoo that never fails to fill and rouse his senses.

“i’m sorry,” you titter. “you must’ve gotten bored of hearing it.”

“no, i like it.” he whispers audibly in your ear, just enough for both of you to hear.

“i’m gla–” you’re suddenly startled when you feel something hard prodding against your ass. you start to feel uneasy and try to shift away but a pair of hands brazenly grab your breasts, almost making you yelp in surprise.

“shh,” his hot breath fans over the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “don’t wanna make a scene.”

your heart instantly drops once you realize the person you trust most, a hero at that, is doing the very same thing he protected you from. you can see the vague reflection ahead– the way his hands are massaging your tits as he litters chaste kisses on the crook of your neck.

you attempt to pry his hands off of you, but he only grabs harder and pushes you closer to the front until your forehead presses against the cold glass.

“aizawa– stop.”

aizawa can hear panic lacing in your voice as you whimper but he simply brushes off your plea, too busy soothing his carnal needs by grinding his hard cock against your ass.

“no. you feel so good.” he nibbles your neck, sucking and biting the supple flesh to leave a bruising mark.

“p-people are gonna see.”

“that’d be really hot.” he hoists up your short skirt to prop his knees between your thighs before one of his hands guides your hip and compels you to grind your pussy against his own thigh.

your eyes lingers around the crowd in the train, in between looking for help and hoping that no one sees what he’s doing to you but everyone’s either immersed in their phones or napping and even when someone does notice you, they just turn away uncomfortably.

“looks like i’m the only hero in this train, kitten.” he says ironically as the hand from your hips snakes in front to rub circles on your clit. “feels good, does it?” he coos as you try to muffle your whines from escaping.

you’re clawing on his wrist in an attempt to make him stop, but the harder you try to, the harder he presses your mound and clit.

aizawa slips two fingers inside your panties, barely biting back a groan once he uncovers you wet beneath his fingers.

“what a surprise.” he chuckles, smearing his fingers with your slick before bringing it up to your mouth. “open up, kitten.”

you purse your lips in retaliation but he easily rubs his thumb on your hardened nipple, causing you to gasp and he quickly shoves his fingers inside your mouth. your tongue wraps around his fingers, sucking and tasting your own flavor as he observes you through the reflection.

“you like how it tastes?” he pulls out his fingers from your mouth with a lewd pop sound before tugging your panties to the side and sliding a digit swiftly inside your cunt. a surprised yelp manages to roll off your tongue from the intrusion but you quickly look down to hide your humiliation and away from the peculiar gazes of others inside the coach.

aizawa hushes you as he thrusts his fingers slowly, savoring the tightness of your walls while also attempting to keep down the squelching noises from your dripping cunt.

“it’s okay. most of them are going to step off soon, then you can be as loud as you want.” he murmurs, holding you close to his body while his other hand continuously rubs your nipple with his thumb to stimulate you even further until your world is reduced to his satisfying ministrations.

as time passes by, more and more people have left the train while a few sleepers still remain. aizawa already has two fingers pumping inside your sopping cunt and your slick is already trickling down your thighs as you try hard to hold in your whines.

“please– i can’t–” your legs have grown weaker and you can only find support by leaning back against his broad chest. your toes are curling inside your heels and your breath has come out shorter and deeper as he keeps on edging you until he thinks it’s safe to fuck you without the presence of other people seeing his unheroic actions.

“you wanna cum, pretty girl?” he finally picks up the pace, causing your body to squirm as you moan breathlessly.

“y-yes– please–”

“you’re really sucking me in.” he groans, dragging and curling his fingers against the spongy walls that makes your thighs tremble as you edge closer to an orgasm. “cum for me.”

your hands are clenching hard on his forearm and you feel the muscles in your stomach tightening with so much intensity. with his finger pressing down on your throbbing bud, you eventually come undone and you bite on his arm to stifle your screams.

“that’s it, princess. just what you need after a long day at work, huh?” he kisses your temple soothingly as you regain composure and struggle to fix your skirt, but he stops you from doing so.

“aizawa..?”

“i had a hard day at work too, you know.” he tugs your panties down to your ankles and picks it up. “i deserve something from you too, right? and i’m not talking about this.” you see him showing your panties through the glass before he shoves it inside his pocket.

aizawa wraps his scarf around your body and drags you to the middle of the coach. the fabric works as a bind around your wrists and ties onto the bar handle on top of your head to keep you restrained and exposed in front of a man that is sleeping in his seat.

“let’s hope he doesn’t wake up soon, hm?” he chuckles and takes his place behind you.

“you’re out of your–!”

you can barely contain your shriek when aizawa suddenly rips off the middle of your blouse that sends the buttons flying across from you and he quickly slips his hands underneath your bra to fondle your breasts.

“careful not to wake him up, princess.” he tweaks your pebbled nipples between his fingers to provoke the slightest sound from you but you press your lips firmly to conceal your mewls. “or else he’s gonna see me fucking your tight cunt.”

aizawa spits on his hand and smears his saliva with your slick, making you shudder from sensitivity before his fingers prod into your hole to give you a few pumps in preparation for his cock.

“i’ve been waiting for this for far too long.” he unzips his pants hastily to free his cock from its confinements and you gulp nervously when you see it in the reflection ahead– already throbbing and fully erected. aizawa lifts one of your legs up and rubs his shaft against your wet, puffy folds before lining his cock with your entrance.

you look down at the man anxiously, praying silently for him to not wake up (or maybe just never at all) to see you with your legs spread in front of his face for god knows how long it’ll be. you bite your lower lip hard when you feel aizawa’s cock sinking inside your cunt, stretching it as he pushes through your walls.

“shit. so fucking tight.” he growls in your ear as he sheathes his cock into you, pushing through your convulsing walls and until he has filled you to the brim. he starts to pound into you slowly and you bite back a moan when you feel the delicious drags of his veiny cock inside you.

his tongue traces the shell of your ear, licking all around the erogenous zone that has you shuddering and clenching down on him even more.

“mmph– you’re milking my cock so well, kitten.” he grunts, flicking your nipple with his free hand before toying with your clit.

“ah– he-he’s gonna wake up.” you pant, tugging your wrists for release as if the way it binds so securely doesn’t tell you enough that it would be impossible.

“then he’s gonna get one hell of a show.” he says nonchalantly before picking up his pace.

the squelching noises begin to fill the quiet air as aizawa continues to fuck you relentlessly. your slick is dripping down to his balls and your thighs, pooling underneath you and you can feel that you’re close to reaching another orgasm.

as your state has become more delirious, the man in front of you suddenly grunts in his sleep and a cold rush of fear instantly creeps down your spine. yet, aizawa doesn’t seem bothered when he remains to be balls deep inside you.

“i think you’re getting off on this, princess.” he says between breaths, rutting into you harder when he feels how hard you’re clamping around his cock.

“b-but– i’m gonna cum–” you whine, body squirming as you ground yourself to not cum.

your pussy is spread wide open in front of the man when aizawa easily lifts up your other leg. your heels have fallen under you and now you’re just practically hanging in mid air with his scarf and hands supporting your body. he angles deeper inside your cunny and your head throws back onto his shoulder when you feel the tip brushing against your cervix.

“then, cum.” it’s baffling how he manages to make it sound simple, not having a care in the world as if his reputation isn’t in the line right now. “look at me.”

you shyly turn your head to meet his heavy lidded eyes before he crashes his lips onto yours. you drown into his fervor kiss while the pressure continues to build in your lower stomach turns more intense and unbearable. at this point, you think it’s best to just swallow your humiliation.

“let it go.” he whispers against your lips and locks his gaze with your wavering eyes.

“f-fuck– cumming–!” you instantly draw in for a deep kiss to make him swallow your moans as you finally let yourself come undone. it feels oddly relieving in a sense that has your mind turned to mush, together with the feeling of an insurmountable high. the moment your eyes flutter open again, you realize that there are questionable droplets of water staining the glass window in front of you.

“you’re a little exhibitionist, aren’t you?” he mocks, yet proud and even more aroused that he managed to make you squirt in a public transport. “he might need to clean up.”

your eyes trail down to the man in front of you to see some amount of your own arousal trickling down on his poor face. you're so dazed with pleasure that you don’t even bother to care anymore and you just let aizawa fucks you through your high before his cock begins to twitch inside your pussy.

“be a good girl and take all my cum.” his pace soon falters and he holds you still before releasing a thick load inside your cunt. after he has emptied out, aizawa leans in the crook of your neck to catch his breath before removing his cock and putting you down gently.

“that was fucking good.” he sighs gratifyingly as he pulls his pants back up. aizawa unties your restraints and your legs wobble once they touch the ground, but he quickly catches you in his arms to keep you from falling to the floor. as if on cue, the train finally comes to a halt.

“oh, we’re here.” he picks up your shoes and bag before pulling you closer to him to stand in front of the automatic door. “do you need me to carry you or something?”

you look at him confusingly, then to the small map above your head; you’re at least two stops away from your station and three from his. “but this isn’t our stop.”

“well, this one has always been mine.”

#aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #aizawa smut #bnha smut #mha smut #aizawa fanfic #bnha fanfic #bnha aizawa #r; writes #tw; noncon #tw; dubcon #tw; stalking #tw; assault

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phr0gie · 4 years ago

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sleep softly, love; genshin impact

synopsis: how i think certain genshin impact characters would fall asleep next to you for the first time :)

note: hihi! so i finally feel like i’m caught up enough in genshin lore that i can start actually writing for it!! yay!! anyways, i’m sorry if my portrayal of them is a lil ooc, i’m still getting used to writing for them. still, i hope you guys enjoy! :D

pairings: xiao x reader, diluc x reader

tw: mentions of nightmares and death in xiao’s, mentions of alcohol and suggestive themes in diluc’s, ooc characters, mostly j fluff, not proof read (oops)

wc: 2k

masterlist

xiao:

the first few times you bring up sleeping next to him he’s probably going to turn you down

you see, xiao doesn’t really need to sleep, nor does he want to

he finds the idea of lying in a comatose state for eight hours in complete darkness to be “weird” and a “waste of time”

and his opinion on the matter doesn’t change for a while

that is, until you confess to him you’ve been having nightmares

these nightmares were like nothing you have ever had before

they shook you to your very core and, rather than the dream just leaving your mind after you woke up, they followed you around for days

once you confide in xiao about these terrors, he grows very concerned

in the past he’s known people who have been plagued with nightmares as a result of a dangerous curse that, more often than not, ended in death

the thought of you, the person he cares about most, succumbing to such a terrible fate frightens him more than anything — not that he’ll ever admit this to you.

and so, reluctantly, xiao agrees to spend the night with you

just this once, to protect you

You roll over to face him and for a moment he panics. To Xiao’s knowledge, couples who slept together often cuddled with each other. While he did occasionally enjoy a few close moments with you, Xiao couldn’t say he was very taken with the idea of physical contact — especially in a situation that left him so vulnerable. To his relief, however, you stay on your side of the bed. Your hand rests on top of your pillow and slowly, almost cautiously you maneuver it so it’s lying a bit closer to Xiao — a silent invitation to hold your hand, is what the adeptus recognizes it as. This gesture was not foreign to him, you did things like this often. You always kept your hand outstretched to him. Even if he were to pull away or turn his back, your hand was still there. You were still there.

“Xiao.”

Your gentle voice catches his attention immediately. As he looks into your eyes all he can see is admiration, his heart clenches at the feeling it gives him.

“Thank you,” you say softly, “for being here for me like this.”

Xiao simply nods his head at you in response.

“Sleep,” he whispers, his tone commanding yet soft, “I will be here when you wake.”

He desperately wants to say more. To let you know that he would always be there for you, that no challenge would ever be too difficult if it was for you, that he would rip the moon from the night sky if it meant that you would rest a little easier. Yet, the kind smile you give him shows that he need not continue. You know he loves you, you have never once doubted it. You are aware of the burden he carries and how it affects him. You know that one day he will be able to share with you the confessions of love and vulnerability that are buried deep inside him. For now, this is enough. He is enough. And so, with a content smile you snuggle even further into your pillow.

“Goodnight, Xiao.” You whisper before finally closing your eyes.

Xiao stares at your resting form for a while. It is not until your breathing evens out and he is sure you are asleep do his eyes flicker from your face to your hand lying closely to him. All of the sudden, an overwhelming urge to hold you in some way overtakes the adeptus. Again, Xiao was not the biggest fan of physical affection, however, something about you looking as peaceful as you do in this moment evokes something from him. And so, he decides to finally accept your invitation. As his palm meets yours in a tight hold — not tight enough to wake you, of course — Xiao allows himself to indulge in the warmth and safety you provide him, just this once.

Neither of you have any nightmares that night.

diluc:

you and diluc are in a fairly new relationship.

having just started seeing each other a few months ago, it’s only natural to not have done anything too domestic quite yet.

not to mention, our ever stoic winery owner is a bit shy when it comes to his affections.

the two of your were every content with your soft, simple touches.

hand-holding, hugging, and subtle kissing kept you both very satisfied.

until you decide to get drunk at dawn winery.

your work has been k i l l i n g you recently

commissions are beginning to pile up, hilichurls have invaded the area you were supposed to scout next, and you couldn’t help but think that you were getting a bit rusty with your weapon.

all and all, you are very stressed out.

you desperately want a chance to relax.

originally, you had planned on just having a drink or two and ranting to your ever so reliable boyfriend.

however, a drink or two turned into three, then four...

before you knew it you couldn’t remember how many you had and it was rather late.

being the gentleman that he is, diluc forces offers you his bed for the night

seeing as you were in no condition to return home on your own, he has no choice.

it’s the responsible decision.

however, he’s still very flustered about the whole ordeal

Dulic thinks you are a handful. Especially right now.

He huffs as he attempts to open his bedroom door one-handed. The other appendage preoccupied with keeping you slumped against his side so that you don’t fall over.

“I knew you shouldn’t have had that last glass of dandelion wine.” He mumbles, gently scolding you.

You simply blink up at him, a bored expression on your flushed face.

“You sayin’ I can’t hold my alcohol?” you hiccup, “I’ll show you…”

You attempt to push off of him, but his hold on you tightens.

“No,” he grunts, “You won’t.”

Finally the door opens and Diluc lets out a sigh of relief. Swiftly he lifts you up — earning a small ‘woah’ and a giggle from you — and carries you over to his bed. He then sets you down and turns to his dresser to get you some clothes to sleep in. He picks out a large, white, long-sleeved undershirt and. Your lips curl into a suggestive smirk and you chuckle.

“Oooh,” you tease, “Master Diluc how bold of you, are you going to dress me?”

The pyro user looks absolutely mortified but you pay no mind to it, too busy laughing and hiccupping at your own joke. A prominent blush grows on Diluc’s face as he shuffles over to you.

“Of course not!” he stutters, dropping the clothing article gently on your head. He then grabs a pile of his own clothes and makes a beeline to the door. Just as he is about to exit he turns to you.

“Wait here,” he instructs, “and try not to fall asleep yet.”

And with that, the Diluc dashes down the hall, presumably leaving you to get changed. You do just that, tugging off your shirt and removing your bottoms. You huff as you lift your boyfriend's shirt up and over your head. As soon as the garment falls over your shoulders and past your knees, you’re hit with the rich scent of chestnuts and mahogany — the scent of Diluc. His undershirt is so baggy and so warm that you cannot help but feel at ease, Diluc always did have a way of making you feel safe — whether it was the hand he always places on the small of your back when he guides you around town or the look in his eyes when he spots you across the room, so sure that you’re the one he’ll always search for. The red-head returns a moment later clad in a dark, short-sleeved undershirt, similar to the one he gave you, and a pair of soft pants. In one hand, Diluc holds a fresh glass of water and in the other a pillow that seems to be smaller than the ones laid out in his bed. Diluc gently sits on the edge of the bed and pats the spot next to him, beckoning you to sit next to him. As soon as the bed dips with your weight, Diluc is handing you a cup of water.

“Drink,” he instructs once again, “so your hangover doesn’t kill you tomorrow.”

You do as you're told, dutifully downing the refreshing liquid. The minute your lips leave the cup he takes it from you, setting it on his bedside table. Then, Diluc picks you up once more and positions you so you are laying properly on the bed. He pulls the covers out from under you and makes sure you’re tucked in well.

“There,” he says finally, pulling the comforter up to your chin, “are you comfortable?”

However, he does not receive an answer. You’re already half asleep, head slumped against the pillow, mouth hanging wide open. Diluc smiles in spite of himself. He should be mad at you, he knows he should. But, as you lay there with your hair a mess, wearing one of his shirts, in his bed, Diluc cannot help but fall even more hopelessly in love with you. Stroking your hair a few times, he finally leaves a light kiss on your forehead. Hesitantly, he gets up, being very careful not to jostle you. He’s about to head to his living room to sleep, but he can barely make it two steps away from the bed before a hand shoots out and grabs his wrist. He turns to see you, still snug in his bed, a pout adorning your features.

“Where’re you goin?” You grumble out sleepily.

Diluc looks at you curiously.

“I’m going to let you sleep,” he whispers, “You need to rest.”

He attempts to remove your hand but your grip only tightens. Suddenly you pull him down, your faces only inches apart. You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your forehead against his.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice soft — so soft that Diluc doesn’t think he would have heard it if he weren’t so close to you, “stay.”

The blush from earlier creeps back up Diluc’s neck and rests upon the apples of his cheeks. Hearing you plead for him like this evokes a sense of warmth within the pyro user. He’s never felt so wanted before you. Ultimately, Diluc gives in and indulges you — how can he not? Crawling into bed next to you, he stiffens when you rest your head on his chest and wrap your arms around his torso. Diluc stays up a little while after you doze off, admiring you.

Diluc thinks you are a handful. However, he thinks he can handle it if at the end of every day he gets to hold you like this.

please do not steal or repost my work, thank you!

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #xiao x reader #xiao headcanons #xiao #diluc x reader #diluc headcanons #diluc #frog.fiction

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the-other-art-blog · 2 years ago

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Little Women saga - Parallelisms (Part 2): Jo-Laurie-Amy & Nan-Tom-Dora

A while ago (like months ago, sorry) I talked about how similar Jo-Laurie and Nan-Tom relationships are. I do not believe that neither Laurie nor Tom actually loved those women. And both Jo and Nan have very maternal feelings towards these men. They were fixations. Really, they were very damaging obsessions that were ruining these men’s lives. And the women, to their misfortune, had to deal with them. Plus, they both had more maternal feelings than anything else towards those men.

I made 2 posts about it (Chapter 41, Chapter 41: Laurie). It is one of my favorite chapters in the whole saga. And you can see that Laurie’s head is a mess. It’s actually very frustrating to see him going back and forth between accepting that he doesn’t love Jo and admitting his feelings for Amy. When you think he finally got it, he goes back to Jo. But in the process, it’s pretty clear he does NOT love Jo or that he ever did. Why? Well, if he really loved her as much as he claimed, then why did he fight so hard to remember her? And why did Amy get in his mind without even trying?

Louisa describes the moments when Laurie/Tom get over Jo and Nan in a pretty similar way.

The moment Laurie gets away from Jo, those feelings start to disappear. Sure, he spent months wailing and feeling sorry for himself, but that was an act. Once he starts working on his opera, he realizes Jo is no the heroine he once thought. He even claims,

That girl is a torment!

At the same time, he begins dreaming of another heroine that casually looks a lot like Amy and that is surrounded by things he experienced with her in Nice. The only reason why he kept forcing himself to think of Jo was because he thought it would be betrayal to forget her.

But alas he lets her go:

Laurie thought that the task of forgetting his love for Jo would absorb all his powers for years, but to his great surprise he discovered it grew easier every day. He refused to believe it at first, got angry with himself, and couldn’t understand it, but these hearts of ours are curious and contrary things, and time and nature work their will in spite of us. Laurie’s heart wouldn’t ache.

Fastforward 25 years and Tom is going through basically the same.

Tom and Demi go away. At first Tom is still fixated on Nan and even tries to make her jealous through Dora. However, his plan backfires because he ended up enjoying Dora’s company quite a bit. She turned out to be a lovely girl who made him very happy.

LMA even describes Tom’s change in quite a similar way,

surprised to find that his heart did not ache a bit.

And just like Laurie, Tom is so excited to tell Jo he’s engaged. He’s delighted, that boy is on a cloud! (I’m imagining Jo listening to Tom and thinking “I’ve been here before”)

I spoke about Laurie’s proposals before. It’s so different how chaotic Laurie is with Jo. Meanwhile, his relationship with Amy runs smoothly. It brings him such peace. And the same thing happens with Tom,

'I declare, I feel as if a weight was off me...

Can you imagine? After all those years of chasing the wrong girl, the stress, the anxiety. Then finally, they are truly in love and those girls love them back! That must feel amazing!

Jo offers her opinion (she does know a thing or two about a boy’s fancy):

It is my opinion, Tom, that you love Dora, or are on the way to it; for in all these years I've never seen you look or speak about Nan as you do about Dora. Opposition has made you obstinately cling to her till accident has shown you a more attractive girl. Now, I think you had better take the old love for a friend, the new one for a sweetheart, and in due time, if the sentiment is genuine, marry her.'

Here’s the thing about these fancies, it’s not only about the girl they want to marry. It is about their entire life. Tom was throwing away his future just to be near Nan. He hated medicine. Once he gets over Nan, he goes into business and loves it. This is how important it is to choose your partner wisely, because they can lift you up or drown you.

Tom is basically Laurie 2.0 in this regard. They are so similar that Laurie gives him advice later on.

and Mr Laurie gave him some wise advice upon the astonishing gymnastic feats the human heart can perform, and be all the better for it if it only held fast to the balancing-pole of truth and common sense.

(I want to write a one-shot of this conversation)

But in the meantime, here it is. Finally, I finished this post that has been on my drafts since forever.

Little Women saga- Parallelisms (Part 1): Jo-Laurie & Nan-Tom

#little women #jo's boys #tom banks #dora west #jo march #Laurie Laurence #jo and laurie #nan harding #amy x laurie

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redrobin-detective · 4 years ago

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because I could not stop for death

because I could not stop for death / he kindly stopped for me / the carriage held but just ourselves / and immortality ~ Emily Dickinson

Danny Fenton was dying, properly this time.

Somehow, in the back of his head and in his worst nightmares, he knew it would end this way: bleeding on the floor of his parents’ lab where it had all began. He was so hot he felt like his skin was on fire, blood and ectoplasm were dripping all over him and his lungs and heart were working overtime to try in vain to keep him alive a moment longer. He’d imagined at the time that there would be more screaming but death, in the end, was turning out to be a quiet little affair. A lonely table set for one.

“Danny, Danny come on, you-you gotta slow down your breathing, just relax, for me, please,” Sam moaned, more than making up for his lack of noise. She was shaking and touching him all over, his chest, his face, his hair. Normally she jumped right into action but she had to know, deep down, that there was nothing she could do. All that was left was to watch her panic and cry, it wasn’t his favorite image.

“Vlad!” He heard Tucker scream cry into the phone, “please it’s Tucker, Danny’s dying I think. The Fentons had some new invention, something about his core, please we don’t know what to do!”

Ugh Vlad, he was probably going to be so happy Danny was on his way out. He wasn’t looking much forward to his last images being his archenemy gloating. Tucker hung up and reached down to grasp Danny’s hand so hard it hurt. “Don’t worry dude, Vlad’s coming. He knows so much about you half ghosts that you’ll be fixed up on no time.” Right, Danny was already dead. If calling Vlad, feeling like he did something, helped Tucker move on then he’d deal with it.

Danny tilted his head to the side where Sam’s fingernails were carding through his hair. It was getting harder to see with the blood pouring out of his eyes but he looked at her, and tried to memorize her face. He’d never been able to tell her how much he loved her, that any day spent with her was a blessing. Tucker too, his best bro and a part of his soul. His best friends in the whole wide world, through thick and thin. God, he was going to miss them.

“Glurk,” he said, trying to convey those feeling but the fluids in his mouth and airway made it impossible. “Blerh.”

“Shh shh shh,” Sam soothed, “it’s okay, don’t try to talk.”

“Daniel!” He heard Vlad’s voice shriek as he materialized in front of the portal. Sam and Tucker were violently pushed out the way. Danny wanted to be angry at his loved ones being taken away in his final moments but anger was for the living, he barely had the energy to breathe. This death was too long and too short all at once. He made eye contact with Vlad who all at once lost the frantic edge to his tone and and instead knelt on the floor. “Oh my dear boy. What did they do to you?”

“What is going on?” Sam demanded, shoving her way back in. Danny was glad, he could see again like this. “Why aren’t you doing something!”

“There’s nothing to be done,” Vlad said in a flat, monotone, he picked up one of Danny’s hands and patted it gently. “His core is dying, it’s like a ghost’s heart. It contains their very essence, it is from which everything they are comes from. If Jack and Maddie somehow disrupted it then there’s nothing anyone can do to save him.”

“But he’s human too,” Tucker defended, grabbing Danny’s other hand. His human warm skin burned but the contact felt so good, he twitched his fingers closer to his friend’s. “He-he doesn’t need a core, he’s already got a heart. So, so he doesn’t have powers, we can do normal again.”

“You-” Vlad hissed before taking a calming breath. “The accident that made Daniel like this irreparably altered him. His core was as much a part of keeping him alive as his other organs, without it, his body is shutting down.” Vlad turned down to look Danny in the eye and saw true, genuine grief in those hateful red eyes.

“I cannot imagine the agony you are going through, I’m so sorry. I’d say it will be over soon but,” a hitch that sounded almost like a sob if it was coming from anyone other than Vlad. “But you’ve hovered on the edge of death for years, son, and you’ve always been such a fighter. You have minutes at most but those minutes are an eternity when you’re suffering.”

Sam and Tucker’s sobbing blended together in the background, Vlad was saying something with a miserable, stunned expression. The swirling of the portal in the background seemed louder than anything, louder than his heart beat pounding and pounding as it ran it’s last race.

“Daniel, Danny,” he focused his eyes back on Vlad who had a stubborn, unhappy set to his brow. “Do you want me to make the pain stop? An ectoblast to your chest will end your life instantly.”

“Don’t you dare touch him,” Sam shrieked, coming back into view and looking like she was trying to fight Vlad off. “You do anything to him and I’ll kill you!” Tucker just sat and stared at him, like he too was trying memorize Danny’s face.

“It’s a mercy, Samantha or do you want his last moments on earth to be drowning on the blood in his lungs.”

“Sam, he has a point. I don’t- I don’t think we can fix this.”

“No! No we always fix things, I’ll do it myself if I have to!”

Danny’s vision was starting to go, more black than anything else. He closed his eyes and readied himself for the inevitable.

“Time Out,” Danny opened his eyes and found he was no longer in pain. He was standing up and apart from where he’d previously been lying. Sam had her hands in Vlad’s face and the older hybrid was snarling something at her. Tucker was midmotion trying to stand up, presumably to get Sam but the three of them were frozen in the moment. Danny turned and found Clockwork floating, looking very out of place in his parents lab. “Good evening, Danny.”

“You that short on cash that you work part time as a grim reaper?” Danny quipped out of habit. He looked down at his body and grimaced a bit, that wasn’t a pretty sight. No doubt traumatizing for Tucker and Sam. God how were they going to explain this to his parents? “Gonna ferry me across the River Styx? I don’t have two pennies but I think I have a bloodied $10 on me.”

“You’re core is dying and you have 17 seconds left in this world before all your organs give out and finish the process you began when you turned on your parent’s ghost portal,” Clockwork explained as he changed into child form.

“O-okay,” Danny said shakily, trying to be brave even when he was so, so scared. He was going out whether he wanted it or not but he refused to leave crying. “Nice of you to come say goodbye then but, uh but unless you have something to say then you should let me go back. No one knows better than me that you can’t outrun death. Thanks but I’m uh I’m ready.”

Clockwork stared at him for a bit, not sure how long, time was weird like this but he changed forms a few times. “You’re quite the remarkable young man, Danny Fenton.”

“Uh thanks,” Danny added, once more looking at his body which had, according to Clockwork, a 17 second expiration date. “What’s going to happen? Am I going to become a ghost? Does heaven or hell exist for someone like me?”

“I don’t get to decide what happens, I merely see options,” Clockwork stated easily, taking his time. “If you die naturally you’ll become ghost, a mere shadow of who you are now and one who would fade fairly quickly. You don’t have strong enough anger or regrets to tie you in the real world for long.” Not great but okay he supposed, hell for his friends and family though. “You could let Plasmius deliver his mercy kill, destroying what’s left of your ghost core and ensuring you do not come back.” Better, probably won’t help the Fruitloop’s instability but he can’t save everyone.

“That one comes with it’s own caveat but I’ll get to that in a moment,” Clockwork explained. “There is a third option where you get up off the floor and walk away.” Danny blinked then looked back at his body which certainly wasn’t walking anywhere but into a plush casket. Clockwork opened his hands and the Ghost King’s Crown materialized in his hands. “If you accept your claim to the King’s Cown, it will revitalize your core and your life would be saved.”

Danny blinked.

“By sealing Pariah Dark, you won by proxy and established a legitimate claim to the throne. The Zone has been without a king for millennia, most have forgotten the old rules. Those who remembered were not too keen on a half-ghost child assuming leadership and kept you in the dark. If Plasmius ends your life then your claim transfers over to him, which he is aware of. It had been his plan all along to trick you into defeating Pariah so he could steal the Crown from you at a later date, a much easier opponent.”

Danny’s mind was overloaded with information, he didn’t know what to focus on first. He stared at his 17 seconds from death face and tried to process it all. Crown? Claim? Vlad?

“Of course,” Clockwork tutted, “he didn’t plan on your dying and in such a gruesome fashion. If he kills you and takes your claim, he would spend his remaining years ruling the Ghost Zone in a just, controlled fashion for your memory. He destroys all the stable portals and keeps the ghost and human worlds separate.” Clockwork became and old man and titled his head, “it’s not a bad timeline, all things considered.”

“And if I take it?” Danny asked quietly.

“You’re compassionate, brave and motivated, you have all the makings of a revolutionary king,” Clockwork smiled. “The Zone would experience and unprecedented era of peace, there would be positive interactions between human and ghosts for the first time since life and death split into two. Your name would spoken with reverence for the rest of time.”

“But I don’t want to be king,” Danny frowned.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Clockwork stated. “Which is why I am giving you the choice. If you pass peacefully there will be no one to claim the Crown and life will continue on, ghost attacks and all. If Plasmius kills you, he becomes an effective but unmemorable king. If you take the Crown, you can get the chance to tell Sam and Tucker how much you love them.”

Danny rubbed at his face, he didn’t want to die but he’d be sealing away his entire future with a move like this. He didn’t even know if the Crown would let him go with death, maybe he’d die and be stuck as the Ghost King until his core finally gave out lord in who knows how long. Eternity was an awful long time to carry such a responsibility. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, too afraid of the answer.

“Is there ever a timeline I became an astronaut?” He asked instead. Clockwork hummed, seemingly unsurprised by Danny’s non-sequitur.

“Yes, in one of the few universes where you never walked into the portal. You never go into space what with human politics putting a halt on the programs but you work for NASA. You leave Amity Park at 17 and don’t come back save for your parents’ dual funeral.” He paused and Danny felt read down to his very bones, “from the moment you became half ghost you were always heading for this moment. The circumstances varied but it always came down to you and the Crown. Time is straining to continue, to see how this drama plays out. Will you accept it and all the joy and grief that comes with it?”

Danny looked over at Vlad, still mid-sneer but there was a scared desperation in his face. He and Vlad sniped at each other all the time but Danny didn’t really hate him and he didn’t think Vlad did either. Leaving him alone, plus making him be king was a heavy burden to put on his enemy.

Sam and Tuck probably wouldn’t recover from this, he’d put them through so much already but he just knew that they’d never be the same. Could he do that to them? Take the easy way out and leave them to suffer? Mom and Dad didn’t deserve to come home to a dead son, the truth would come out and they’d never forgive themselves. Jazz certainly wouldn’t, she was 2 states over at University but he could already hear her angry, grief-stricken screams.

Death, death was quiet. It was quiet and merciful and sad, but it was also easy. And Danny Fenton had never once taken the easy route. He reached out and took and the crown before shakily placing it on his head. He gasped, throwing his head back as his core swelled, taking up residence once more right next to his heart. Clockwork smiled, looking like the cat who ate the canary.

“The Crown of Fire, pardon me the Crown changes with each core, the Crown of Ice is now yours as is the Zone. Your reign begins now but so too does the rest of your life. People are waiting for you. Time in.” Danny slammed back into awareness on the floor of his parents’ lab, the floor he’d almost died on twice.

He sat up as cold radiated off his body, causing frost to crawl down his arms and along the floor. Sam, Tucker and Vlad, who’d been frozen up until now, jumped back to life. There was a new, familiar weight on his head that he didn’t dare acknowledge.

He squeezed his eyes shut and said a silent goodbye to a quiet, normal life. It wouldn’t be all bad, he could be happy like this but the Crown still felt like a iron manacle around his neck. But he got used to the ghost powers, he could get used to this too. Maybe one day he won’t look at the stars and say ‘what if?’

“Danny!” Sam shouted, throwing herself into his arms soon followed by Tucker. Their warm weight, their relieved sobs, their shaky breaths in his air, now this was something worth living for. He squeezed them tightly.

“But how dude, you were at death’s door!” Tucker asked, still not letting go.

“You accepted the Crown,” Vlad said evenly, “I wasn’t aware you even knew about your claim. Who told you?”

“You don’t know everything, Vlad,” Danny sighed, sitting himself upright. Ugh his shirt was covered in blood and ectoplasm. He needed to trash these clothes before his parents freaked. And find a way to hide the floating ice crown on his head.

“Even an old man can be surprised every now and again,” Vlad said wearily. He stood up to his full height before startling Danny by dipping down to one knee. “Then allow me to be the first to welcome my new king and wish him well.”

“I thought you wanted this,” Danny questioned.

“I do, I did,” Vlad said, unusually off balance. “To be quite honest, I’m not sure how to feel about it but, right now, I’m just immeasurably happy you’re alive, little badger. Now I best be off, enjoy your kingdom, my liege, I’ll be sure to come bother you some time soon.” Vlad disappeared in a swirl of pink leaving just him, Sam and Tucker still clinging to him.

Danny may have a kingdom, a job he didn’t want and his whole life decided in a spur of the moment choice, but he also had something very important. He squeezed his friends tightly.

“I love you guys, thank you for being my friends even though I have the worst ideas for activities. Dying? On a Sunday night? How lame is that?” Sam laughed, a bit hysterical but it was real and it made Danny feel weightless.

“Don’t do that again, buddy,” Tucker breathed into his shoulder. “So you gonna explain what just happened and why you’re apparently the Ghost King or something?”

“Yeah, yeah I will but let’s get changed first. Mom and Dad will be home soon and I think I’m going to need to have a conversation with them about my new job.”

#danny phantom #i was watching forever phantom and said 'i should kill danny' and then i fucking didn't #im obsessed with ghost king danny as end game #Im not sure this is the route I would want to go but I want him to end up woth tje crown #its bitter sweet bc its a *lifelong (possibly afterlife) commitment that he didnt get a choice in #he will be happy and he will be a good king but it wasnt his choice and he'll always regret it a little #i love clockwork but he's a bit shady and will always work in favor of the timeline #anyway happy fucking sunday bitches #have some homemade angst #also i typed this directly in tumblr and almost hit the power screen on my computer instead of backspace #god was trying to stop me from publishing but i overcame #Only did one quick edit Im too tired to care anymore #lmk if you want it on ao3

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