#really speaks about how unlikeable I am if people lose interest in me as soon as they can buy happy things instead | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imagineanime2022 · 2 years ago

Text

Top Priority

Claude Faustus X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2028

Requested: Anon

Request: Hi!! may i request headcanons of Claude with a contracted reader, about 17-18 years in age, and they summoned him and sold their soul to always have a friend? Like they always go on adventures and Claude walks them to and from school n such? Sorry if that’s long oopsies but i’d really appreciate it! thank you :)

Claude had watched how the world changed about the only thing that stayed the same was Sebastian. Even the reapers had changed hands a few times, sure Grelle still followed close behind the cat demon and the undertaker's shop survived through the hundreds of years that it had been around but they were all small things. London was now a city of tower blocks and office buildings, companies were owned by corporations not families and people no longer valued their relationships rather what the relationship could bring and of course these relationships never lasted he watched as they broke down within days.

This world offered a chance for demons to thrive, humans were stupid enough to make quick deals for 5 minutes of fame before their demon came to collect and they all tried to bargain for more time. Claude had grown tired of it, he missed the longer bonds created and the anticipation of the meal, the hunt was completely taken from him as his deals currently stood. Claude was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost didn’t notice the young human standing in front of him, his eyes shifted to them as they seemed to turn in on themselves. “Yes?” He asked, the speech that used to take such joy in performing had gone unspoken for a long while now, humans of this age far too impatient for it. “I-I was told that I could find a friend here.” You seemed more timid than any human who came to his realm before, even Alois was more outspoken than you. “Whoever told you that was cruel.” Claude informed you, you seemed to flinch at that before nodding your head. “Most people are.” You agreed with him as you turned now seemed to turn away, you seemed more comfortable in disappointment. Claude was more interested in that. “When you have no family to speak of, you're unlikely to find true kindness anywhere.” Claude was confused, this was the type of fortune that fell into Sebastain’s lap not his, your soul was pure and your intentions even more so, he believed that you truly came here for a friend. “Why not look for friends in the rest of the human race?” Claude asked. “I’ve been trying for years and yet here I am asking a demon for friendship.” You shrugged. “Mmm why stop now?” He asked. “Well I’m 16 years old, they’ll be asking me to leave soon and I’ll be alone all over again, in an apartment somewhere that I don’t know.” You shrugged “what better time to make a friend that has to follow you.” “All you want is a friend?” He asked. “For the rest of my natural life.” You nodded and he smiled, you were a smart human. He'd give you that, but if he didn’t take this deal no doubt you would find your way to someone else, he couldn’t pass up a meal like this. It wouldn’t be that long or difficult and it provided that hunt that he had been missing. “Choose somewhere for the mark to be placed.” He approached you slowly and for a second he could see that you were reminded that was in fact a predator. “Mark?” You asked. “Mmm. It’s proof of the contract that you’ve made and the demon that you’ve made it with.” He explained holding out his hand to show you the make on the back of it. “Oh here.” You pointed to your ankle, he could see the skin there clear unmarked by anything. “Very well.” He nodded, you jumped as you felt the spider crawl it’s way up your leg and hissed when it bit you, Claude crouched in front of you wiping the blood from your leg as he inspected the mark. Claude nodded as he licked the blood from his thumb, pleasantly surprised by the taste and even looking forward to the meal that was coming. He was brought back to the present when he heard you groan, losing your balance and falling forward. “It’s time to go back, don’t you worry I’ll be there when you wake up.”

That was one and a half years ago now and while you were sure that it was Claude doing you a favour, he wasn’t so sure you had helped him come to terms with the new world that he had neglected to understand. Claude had helped you to appreciate the old fashioned things, sometimes it took a little more time but you enjoyed it all the same. Claude dropped you to school and picked up, he cooked and cleaned, he washed your clothes, he admitted that with all the new technology, even doing all that left him time in the day for other things, not that he had much interest in doing anything else.

One day you were eating breakfast, it was a Saturday morning, and the news was playing on the TV. Claude wasn’t paying attention and he was sure that you weren’t either, he had just finished washing the dishes when you spoke “Do you know anything about the Trancy Estate?” You asked. He had honestly not expected to hear that name ever again and especially not from you. “How do you know that name?” He asked, you looked at him and shrugged, turning your phone to him. “Just reading this post says that they found the old estate and that it’s haunted.” You explained. “I used to work for the last Earl.” He answered, and your eyes widened. “So you would know if it was the real mansion?” You asked. “Mmm.” He hummed “now eat.” “Can we go?” You asked, ignoring the previous order. “Will you eat if I say yes?” He asked, he had realised that even if you had asked for a friend the relationship had since adapted to one of an older sibling and a younger one. “I’m going to eat regardless, your food is amazing.” You answered shovelling more food into your mouth as if he was going to take the plate away. “We can go.” He said as he took your phone from you “after all the only should that would be haunting that place, I have taken. I want to know who’s taken refuge there.” “Ghost adventure.” You smiled as you basically inhaled the rest of your food and ran off to get ready.

You lived in the city so it took a long while to get to where you wanted to be, there was no direct route and you needed to get a train out of the city before your adventure could really start, it was a long trek that Claude carried you through for the more part, he remembered the paths well no matter how overgrown they had become, he sighed as he realised all his and the triplets hard work had been for nothing since there was no one to maintain it after they all left. “Something wrong?” You asked as he helped you over a particularly large tree root. “These grounds used to be beautiful.” He answered. “Tell me about them.” You requested as you both continued walking. “The land around the mansion belonged to the Trancy family, we were in charge of keeping the gardens and grounds surrounding the mansion, we were very diligent, there were a set of triplets who often took care of the grounds and garden for me.” He explained. “The Earl only ever wanted yellow and purple flowers.” “I’m sure it looked beautiful.” You mumbled. “Oh it did.” He promised as he pulled up a tree branch to stop it from hitting your head. “It’s a shame that there’s been no one to care for it since.” You said after a roll of your eyes in response to his previous statement. “It was probably better that this estate lost purpose.” Claude answered honestly, his mind travelling back to the last Earl and how he came to power “those who lived here were cursed by a past anyone would want to forget and a yearning that could never be filled.” “Sounds sad, he had no family either?” You asked. “His brother was killed.” Claude answered. “His parents?” You asked. “He never talked about them.” Claude lied, he had no intention of ruining you with tales of someone else's past, he was aware that you likely knew the rumours that surrounded the manor and it’s older owner, there were now people paid to figure that out now after all.

You both managed to get to the manor unscathed, you didn’t seem even a little bit scared of the ghost that was supposed to be hiding in there, he should have expected as much, you had summoned him after all. You opened the door and he followed behind you, the halls a far cry from what he had left them, movement to the left of you caught his attention though you didn’t seem to notice it, your eyes moved from place to place as you looked for anything to explain what others had seen. “This is very you, Claude.” You smiled as you looked back at him, he never got the chance to answer instead moving forward at a speed he hadn’t had to in a long time, his forearm coming into contact with an attackers and protecting you from a well aimed attack. Claude pulled you close as he moved away from them, though he wasn’t worried he knew who he was looking at. “Thompson, what are you still doing here?” Claude asked , the triplet in front of him stood relaxing his posture. “Once you dismissed us we had nowhere to go.” He answered. “You know him?” You asked. “He and his brothers were the triplet I spoke of earlier.” He answered. “The ones that looked after the grounds?” You asked. “Yes.” Claude answered. “Where are your brothers?” You asked, breaking away from Claude and looking around. “Are they here?” The two demons appeared from the shadows to flank their brother. “So you're Thompson, what are your names?” You asked. “I’m Timber.” The boy on the left answered. “I’m Canterbury.” The other answered and you smiled. “I’m (Y/N).” You said. “You said you had nowhere to go.” They all looked at each other before nodding. “You used to live with Claude, if you want you could come back with us, I’m used to living with people.” You shrugged. “That apartment is a bit quiet.” The triplets looked to Claude who shrugged. “You want us to live with you?” Thompson asked. “Well I heard that they wanted to knock this place down, I assume that’s why you’ve become so active.” You explained “so if the only reason is that you need this place to stay then come stay with me and have no one bother you.” “She isn’t lying.” Claude said as he looked at you “she just wants friends.”

The triplets decided to come back with you and Claude watched as you showed the triplets around the house, he went out to get them some clean clothes and before he knew it the triplets were lining up to shower and change while you were sitting in the kitchen with him. “Why did you offer them a place to stay?” Claude asked. “I like having you around but I know that you don’t like this version of the world, you know having people you used to know around might help.” You shrugged. “And I don’t mind having more people around.” “You're too kind to be making deals with demons.” Claude informed before patting your head. “I only made a deal with you.” You reminded him and he looked at you and nodded. “Mmm there’s no way to get out of it.” He placed your food in front of you. “I don’t plan to lose a friend.” You shrugged before beginning to eat the food that he had made, he never really understood the way that Sebastian defended Ciel until now, as he looked at you, he didn’t just see you as a meal but for the time that he spent with you, you were his top priority and he’d never let anything happen to you.

Request Here!!

#black butler #black butler imagine #black butler oneshot #claude faustus #claude faustus oneshot #claude faustus imagine #imagine #oneshot #one shot #reader insert #x reader #female reader

54 notes · View notes

elias-code · 3 years ago

Text

Asleep in Your Arms - Techno x Reader

Characters: c!Techno x gn!Reader

Summary: While a blizzard outside rages, you find comfort in Techno’s arms. He tells you a story to help relax you, and you end up asleep in his arms. Not having the heart to wake you so he could go to his Syndicate meeting, he sleeps with you.

Warnings: None!

~Ask~

Could you maybe write a small thing about short reader (like 5’) feeling safe in Techno’s arms and maybe falling asleep on his lap before a syndicate meeting and not having the heart to wake you up so he lets you cuddle him during the meeting??

~Ask~

Note: Aww I’m 5’ 5” and this really speaks to me… When I get stressed, I just feel the need to melt into someone’s arms (preferably Techno’s) and sleep. Also I hate being woken up so i would appreciate him being so careful lmao. I couldn’t figure out a way to make the meeting happen so I hope this will do! Also, the story that he tells isn’t mine, I just heard it a lot when I was a kid, so I decided to write that one instead of straight up copy and pasting something else—

—- Enjoy! —-

To Techno, this was just another bad storm, but to you, it was one of the scariest parts of living with him. The only thing that could make the blizzard go away was his warmth. Even though this was your second storm by now, you still weren't used to the sounds. Snow was supposed to be soft and fluffy, but buzzards were far from that and far from anything you'd experienced before.

“When is this going to be over?”

Techno continued to look out the window at the blinding white storm. “I think it’s going to be a while. I don’t think it’s going to let up anytime soon.”

You sighed and put your hands to your face. You prided yourself on being a well composed person, but when it came to storms, something deep in your animal brain wanted to make you hide forever. Your instincts weren’t well-founded when it came to the blizzards, but Techno comforted you nonetheless.

He closed the curtain and walked over to where you were sitting, kneeling to your level and taking your hands off of your face to look you in the eye.

“Baby, it’s going to be okay,” He cooed, “It’s just a storm, it can’t hurt you in here.”

“I know…” He stood and sat next to you on the plush couch, the cushions sinking in as he did so. He put his arm around your shoulders and invited you to lean into him.

“C’mere,” He said, motioning for you to move closer, “Sit with me.”

You complied, just as the storm picked up once again. You scooted over into his lap, leaning your head on his chest. Compared to the 6��5” giant, you were an infant. He was nearly one and a half feet taller than you, and even though you were used to people being taller than you, it always felt different with him. With some people, it was intimidating, sometimes patronizing. With Techno, you always felt at home, like he was the iron giant looking after you. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your head.

“Do you want me to tell you a story?” He asked. It was always comforting when he did that.

“Yeah…” You mumbled, shutting your eyes.

“Alright,” He cleared his throat and began:

“There once was a wealthy farmer who had three sons; Henry, Oliver, and Prince were their names. By the time he was seventy, he was on his deathbed, and he had to decide which son to give the farm to. When his sons asked who he wanted to receive it, he replied: ‘Whoever passes my test will be the one to own the farm when I die.’ The boys leaned in closer in anticipation for the challenge, ‘I will give you each twenty-five cents. I want you all to use that money to fill a room in the house completely. Buy whatever you need at the market, but do not go over budget.’

The boys understood the assignment, but were confused as to why he wanted them to do that instead of more conventional means. He could have just chosen one of them at random, one proposed, but the old man smiled and said, ‘I have my reasons, now go.’

And so they did. At the market, Henry bought the cheapest, biggest things he could find. He bought thin boxes, thinking he could fill the room with them, since they were so bulky. With the twenty-some boxes he bought, he could only fill half the room, and so he lost the farm.

Oliver was next, and initially, he thought he would be able to hire people to crowd into the house and maybe bring some friends, but no one was interested in what little money he could offer them. He came up with another plan, his father wouldn’t know if he bought above his budget, and so he bought the boxes off of Henry, and then some more. Henry charged him his full twenty-five cents, knowing Oliver was bound to lose with those boxes. Instead, when Henry went into the room they were supposed to fill, he saw a few extra wheels of cheese which blocked the entrance, meaning the room had been filled. Seeing this, he notified his father. Oliver had cheated, and so he would not get the property.

Lastly, Prince skipped into town. He was the youngest out of all of his siblings, only twelve years old at the time. He saw what his other brothers did and took note. He figured there’d be no way to fill the room with any physical objects, and so he came up with a different idea. He bought a candle and a match, with two cents to spare. When he got home and lit the candle, the room filled with light, and he explained it to his brothers.

They refused to think that their father would consider the room filled, but Prince insisted he’d stayed within the rules, and lo and behold, the father was ecstatic.

‘My dear Prince, the farm is yours! Unlike your brother Henry, you were able to fill the room. I never specified what to fill it with, and Henry just assumed that he would have to fill it with physical objects, which is not the case. You also outsmarted your brother Oliver, who had no sense of the rules and threw his chances away by cheating. You were the only one to stick to the rules and accomplish the task, I’m proud of you.’”

Techno finished the story he’d told you many times, knowing it was your favorite. You’d talked about it before, referring to it as a ‘lateral thinking puzzle’ or something along those lines. Techno had bought a whole book of them for times like these, when you were stressed. He’d go over them with you and he especially had fun poking holes in them, finding other ways to get to the desired end.

He was about to say one of his usual quips about the story when he noticed you let out a light snore. You were asleep in his lap, his arms around you, protecting you from the storm outside. He smiled, I am not gonna make it to the meeting today, am I? He thought to himself. The voices answered half-heartedly, still discussing how long they thought you’d been asleep for. He didn’t have the heart to wake you, and so he sat there with you until eventually he fell asleep, too.

#elias original #c!techno x reader #c!technoblade x reader #technoblade x reader #techno x reader #Eli sleep #dsmp #dreamsmp #dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt #Technoblade #i have a new computer so shit might be off lmao sorry

416 notes · View notes

ekaterinatepes · 3 years ago

Text

Nothing but the Best

Author’s note: it’s getting interesting here ;) enter prince charming Sugu-kun to save the day.

IX.

https://youtu.be/uhoiqVPmURE

youtube

Satoru was afraid of making a move, least he tipped you over the edge and made you bolt; he didn’t want that. Swallowing hard he looked into your eyes… God… he had missed your beautiful E/C eyes so much. Waking up every morning without you by his side, without you kissing him awake cause he was going to be late for work… again. Your absence had left a literal infinite void in his heart that he was unable to fill.

“I know I don’t deserve anything from you Y/N, but I love you and I cannot give up on us… We said forever when we got married. And I want that… with you” speaking from the heart was not something Satoru ever did. He always preferred to cover any emotions with inappropriate jokes and double entendres. But he knew he couldn’t play his stupid games, not with you and most certainly not now.

You pulled away in that moment, as if his touch was burning you. He allowed it, doing his utmost effort not to pull you back in. His hands itched resting at his sides, missing the warmth of your body.

|||

It was you and me, it seemed to last forever

The way you taste and I still remember… the sounds we made.

|||

“It would have been nice if you felt that way before you decided to ruin this marriage. Where were those promises of forever when you fucked someone else?” You asked piercing his eyes with yours. He cowered under your glare. Satoru had never been on the receiving end of your wrath and now he understood why most people chose (wisely) to not mess with you. Every single one of your words was chosen carefully to cause the most damage. At the same time… what hurt the most was that you were right.

“Leave and don’t ever come back… you and I… are through…” Satoru noticed how you avoided calling him by his name, he hated it. As if uttering his name would leave a bad taste in your mouth “Y/N…” he whispered pleadingly when you took another step away. But this time he didn’t have the courage to stop you as you disappeared inside your apartment and locked the door behind you.

|||

I bet you wish you had me back! Another chance to gain it, just like that. The best you ever had.

|||

Satoru was fucked.

—————

The next morning Suguru’s plane landed. JFK international airport was as busy and chaotic as one would expect. After collecting his luggage he made his way to a cab giving the driver your current address.

He hadn’t been able to sleep a wink during the trip, his mind swarmed with all the possibilities of what could be happening right now. Satoru didn’t play fair and of course… you loved (probably still love) the lucky bastard.

With a sigh he decided to focus instead on the city going by through the cab’s windows. It wasn’t the first time he was in New York and his mind was much more occupied torturing him instead of appreciating the landscape.

After 40 minutes, Geto stood before a very nice and modern building located in the upper east side called Hawthorn Park. You sure knew how to live in luxury. He approached the doorman and let him know his name and that he was here to see Miss Ekaterina Petrova to which the kind looking old man responded by using his intercom to contact you. Geto was soon granted access and guided to the elevator.

The elevator doors opened on the 21st floor, he walked to the door of your apartment which was already open and you were waiting for him. His smile fell once he noticed you have been crying “oh Kitten” dropping his luggage on the spot he surrounded your body in his arms “I’m so sorry…” one didn’t need to be a genius to know Satoru had found you.

You both moved inside your apartment. Settling on the spacious couch you buried your face on Suguru’s lap as you cried. He stroked your now darker strands of h/c hair without a word exchanged. He knew you needed to let it all out. After what seemed an eternity you sat back up. Suguru gently dried your eyes.

“He was here last night…” you whispered in a raw and scratchy voice, result of your endless hours of distress before his arrival “he told me he loved me, that he left Sookie” scoff “and hear this… he left her because the baby wasn’t his!” Talk about karma at its best. Suguru already knew that but he was surprised to hear Satoru had come clean about it to you “He probably thought I would fall for that! But I didn’t” you added firmly.

Suguru was proud of you. He knew how hard it was for you to resist Satoru but you stood tall and proud when it mattered the most. “What do you want to do now?” Where you planning on moving again?

“I’m not leaving…” you said looking into Suguru’s liquid amber gaze. You couldn’t help but notice once again he had such pretty eyes, like a cat. You’ve always liked them, specially when they looked at you with such tenderness. You have missed him dearly during all this time.

“I can’t keep running away from him; I mean… it’s obvious he won’t stop and I… I am tired of molding my life to adapt to his whims. I’m staying here whatever happens. Sugu… I got the part for the Swan Lake!” You added remembering you haven’t talked to him during the last week and so he didn’t know about your latest accomplishment.

Geto’s eyes enlarged before a huge smile split his handsome face and his massive frame engulfed you in a tight hug. Of course he knew everything about ballet, he was your best friend after all. This was huge! Probably as big as making it in the ballet world meant “I’m so proud of you Kitten!” He said excitedly kissing your temple. Maybe not everything was as bad as he thought.

You were upset, it was true. But then again you were not prepared last night. Satoru had taken you by surprise. Now… you knew he was here and more or less knew what to expect from your soon to be ex-husband.

“Thank you Sugu…” you stopped and pulled back just slightly to look into his eyes from your height. He was a very tall man compared to you “I missed you” you said with a bright smile to which Geto replied with one of his own before pulling you in again for another hug “I missed you too Kitten” stroking your back softly Suguru decided he was happy to be here… with you.

https://youtu.be/3oSXqLgoSq4

youtube

|||

She's given up, been holding on for way too long

She's had enough

He's coming home again

But it's too late 'cause she won't stay with him

|||

The sunshine hitting his face was what woke him up. With a grunt Satoru rolled over on his side only to fall unceremoniously from the couch where he had passed out last night. The last thing he remembered was warping back to his hotel after you left him on the roof. The memory of you, turning your back on him and walking away squeezed his heart in a painful grasp.

Alcohol was never something he was attracted to, he liked to keep his brain constantly alert and stimulated. It served a purpose of course, it kept his infinity barrier on at all times, even when he was asleep. But last night he hit rock bottom. He didn’t care anymore…

As soon as he got back to the hotel, hopelessness made a home in his chest, sitting heavy on his heart. Walking to the fully stocked bar placed on the corner of his suite he opened a bottle of whiskey. He started slow since most everything was too bitter for his taste, so he went through the process of trying every single bottle until he found something to his liking.

Two hours and about fifteen different shots of everything he decided to settle for a bottle of Amaretto, some fancy Italian liquor made of apricot kernels. It was sweet.

Everything else after that was blur. Moving his sore body from the floor he forced himself to go to the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would help ease his misery. Peeling off his clothes the smell of booze clinging on them made Gojo cringe. He decided to brush his teeth before showering. Looking in the mirror he couldn’t recognize the man starring back at him. He was a mess.

|||

Are we just ghosts out in the night?

Are we just waiting for a light that doesn't shine?

Are we just faking or is this real?

'Cause I don't know how to feel

Are we just ghosts now, you and I?

|||

Last night he had been so desperate, so hopeless and broken hearted. That’s when it hit him… his wife didn’t hurt him, she didn’t cheat on him (unlike himself), she didn’t do anything to him and yet he was feeling as if the world was collapsing around him. He lied, cheated and fucked up everything for them both.

Guilt…

Unadulterated, burning and suffocating guilt was consuming him. He felt bad before but it wasn’t until last night that he grasped the concept that Y/N didn’t owe him anything at all and that HE didn’t deserve it anyways.

The plan originally had been to get back in your good graces by doing penitence, submitting to your every whim and desire by becoming your devoted slave for as long as you would have it. He never even considered the possibility that his wife DID NOT WANT to forgive him in the first place.

He thought you left to give him a lesson, that you would eventually come back to him after he had a taste of what it was like to lose you.

But even after you both shared such a searing kiss, so passionate that every cell in his body was humming, aflame with desire you still managed to walk away from him as if it meant nothing to you.

What good did it do to him to be the strongest when he couldn’t even protect his wife… from himself.

After showering, changing clothes and ordering every sweet pastry and desert from the room service menu Gojo stopped to rethink his strategy.

What?…

Did you think he was going to stop there?

Absolutely no, love!

If anything, your rejection had only fueled his need to get you back.

“Time for plan B” sighing he pulled out his phone it rang a couple times before someone answered “good morning Mrs. Mazzo, this is Gojo Satoru. I’m going to need you to forward to me Miss Petrova’s rehearsal schedule…”

—

“This is really good!” You hummed happily after swallowing a bite of your steak. Suguru sat across from you at Keens Steakhouse, with a grin he watched as you indulged yourself in what you called your ‘cheat meal’ of the month. Being a professional ballerina was a tough and demanding commitment that controlled every aspect of your life, from how you train to what you eat. Despite it all, Geto knew you always found a happy balance that worked just fine for you.

Seeing your big smile made his heart jump in his chest, you were as beautiful and alluring as the day he met you. If only he had told you he liked you before Satoru did. This question kept him up at night, playing all sorts of scenarios in his mind. If he had taken the first step… would things have been different? Would you have ended up together? Married? Shaking his head he tried to focus on what you were actually saying. Deviating his thoughts to that kind of scenarios was dangerous. He also didn’t want to push it when he was perfectly aware you were still healing; he wasn’t a low life piece of shit to take advantage of your vulnerability.

But when you smiles at him as if he was the only thing in your world, when you held his hand across the table, playing with his finger, his throat felt dry and tight.

“What do you think Sugu?” Your curious and expecting eyes caught him like a deer in the headlights “I’m sorry Kitten, I was distracted. Could you repeat that please?” He asked with an affable smile.

You chuckled and stroke his hand softly “you look tired, did you sleep at all in the plane?” He shook his head “no, I didn’t. I never can, it’s uncomfortable” he hid on purpose the true reason why he hadn’t been able to sleep “come on Sugu! Let’s go back home! I bet you are tired” you said offering him a sweet smile.

After paying your bill you walked the few blocks back home. Suguru of course would be staying with you in the spare room of your penthouse. Holding hands while you talked to him about the activities the city had to offer, your schedule and how you intended to fit the time to do some tourism with him. “You don’t have to bother Kitten, I know you are busy enough with your job, I will be fine” he insisted.

You stopped on your tracks and stood in front of him, pouting, making him chuckle. You looked every bit the kitten he knew you to be, all bothered and moody “no! I want to spend time with you too you know! I haven’t seen you in so long! I’m not going to waste this chance!” You insisted to which Suguru threw his hands up in the air “I surrender Kitten! Do with me as you will” you giggled and then blushed. “Uh… eh… ok! I will!” He took your hand again and you both resumed your walk.

Satoru warped to the roof top of the building adjacent to yours, the lights were out in your apartment and he couldn’t sense your presence inside. You left? Where did you go?

Before a second though he warped inside your apartment but he saw all your stuff was still there, maybe you went out for groceries or something?

After a few minutes sitting on your couch he decided to wait for you on the street so he could see when you got home.

(Almost an hour later)

Oh… he wasn’t ready for what he saw.

“That mother fu….” Satoru grinds his teeth watching you walk down the street holding onto Suguru’s hand while talking distractedly. From his hiding spot in front of your building he closed his hands in a tight fist.

Well, this complicated things… a lot more.

————-> Chapter 10

———————————-

@sleepyamaya

@cloudsinthecosmos

@jxvajxy

@satoruhooraaa

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

@jscarlet06

@fiona782

@thatsharklovingwoman

@heichoustheoryofcleanliness

@syynnaaah

@shaylove418

@coldvillainess

@vampgguk

@sukuna1stwife

#jjk #jjk Gojo #Gojo Satoru #gojo #Satoru #jujutsu geto #jujutsu gojo #geto x reader #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo saturo x reader #geto smut #geto x y/n #geto suguru #jjk suguru #getou suguru x y/n #Youtube

172 notes · View notes

demonslayedher · 3 years ago

Note

Sorry to hear about the practice test! Honestly, those details sound ridiculous. I hope you're remembering to take breaks and stay well hydrated ^^

While I'm here, I wanted to ask you what you thought about Muzan and Rui's relationship. Personally, I feel Muzan might have had a soft spot for him because they both grew up sick. I wish we could have seen Muzan interact with the Lower Moons (and others in general). But in another reality where we did get such fleshed out relationships, what do you think it'd be like?

Thank you, I agree, this nerd test is a bit ridiculous, but I am a bit ridiculous. And hydrated now, thank you! As for Muzan having a soft spot for Rui, I am so here for this interpretation. (And I have drawn silly interactions for them before, tee hee hee.)

A lot of people have pointed out that Muzan may have felt sympathy for Rui due to also having been born sickly, though I have analyzed Muzan as only being able to see his own interests and therefore may not had pitied Rui, persay. However, that clear aversion to disease, and Muzan's (perhaps frequent) offer to give dying people a way to overcome it, has also led me to think that Muzan & Yushiro could had gotten along really, really well if Muzan had gotten to Yushiro before Tamayo did. Muzan does, after all, have likes and dislikes among his demons (some clear favoritism is at play with demons who are obedient or useful or stroke his ego in whatever way suits his mood), especially the ones with the highest concentration of his blood, the Twelve Moons. A factoid from the first fanbook tells us:

"Muzan was the one who named the Twelve Moon demons. He's been searching for someone with cells capable of mastering the sun, so he's generally been looking for people with qualities to their blood and body types different from the demons he's made so far, but he also wants strong demons, so he tends to aim for people with similar physicality to the demons who managed to become Upper Moons."

It's a little ambiguous whether that simply means he came up with the "Twelve Moons" term (which I find obvious that he would had been the one to do that), or if he personally gave names to the demons who were powerful enough for him to pay any attention to them. With that being the case, it's interesting to see where he chose to change someone's name and where he didn't, like, "Ume? No. We'll call her Daki. Excuse me, did I hear you talking back, what is your name? Gyutaro? Oh, that's funny, I like that, you can keep that," or "Michikatsu? Ha. No. You're Kokushibo now. Glad you like it." Rui, however, still has the name his parents called him. And, Rui initially got to keep living his somewhat normal life with them until it came crashing down, and Muzan came to collect him. When Muzan meets Rui, he's all alone, dressed in Western attire. He would have long established his Twelve Moons by then, however many rounds the Lower Moons have already been through. If we read into Tamayo's comments about how she wanted to live long enough to see her children grow old, we might guess that she was also sick, and Muzan has turned sick people into demons before. He tends to lose interest in turning certain types of people into demons once he sees what happens, like how one experiment with a Breath user was enough to satisfy him, and one attack on a charcoal-raising family was enough to see if that would be what it takes to master the sun. There wouldn't have been much incentive to enter the room of a sick little boy, all alone, especially one who he intends to leave there with the rest of his family unscathed. All he says is, "How pitiful. I'll save you." And maybe, maybe he really only meant to do that. If that's the case, my bet is that it was a passing whim, not a strong pull to this boy, but then when it didn't pan out, he felt he had to go back and finish what he started. After all, that boy did become a strong demon, he was useful. So strong, in fact, that it wouldn't had made sense for him not to be one of the Twelve Moons, however low his position. Rui didn't have much ambition in the first place, and he and Muzan both seemed pleased with the stagnant Lower Moon Five position for him. Rather than put pressure on him like he put on the other Lower Moons, he gave Rui leniency to share his unique demon cells (something which could potential lead to a demon gaining influence against Muzan), and allowed him to keep playing house. After all, as much as Muzan might not care about things like family or weak human parents, he might recognize that his actions were what led to Rui losing what he cared about more than having a strong body. It's unlikely Muzan would had seen anyone else in the same light he saw himself even if he did see similarities between his past and Rui's; Rui is like a stray pet he took responsibility for.

This is really uncharacteristic of Muzan. He probably wouldn't have been open to anyone questioning his oddly merciful treatment of Rui, so when Rui's defeat upset that untouchable balance, that may have been part of why Muzan reacted so strongly. It was preemptive, so that no one would dare to think Muzan ever had tolerance for an unambitious demon. And if there was affection, Muzan probably doesn't even realize it. As for Muzan getting along with his moons in another reality, I still think he'd treat them all as dispensable tools, like in the 4-panel comic of Muzan telling Gyokko to go something and Gyokko laughs along with him like, "oh, but I'll be killed!" and Muzan's like, "yeah, I don't care" and Gyokko is all, "........" What I would love is a modern day AU in an office setting where all the Lower Moons are there and Muzan is the boss. There's office cliques and gossip and antics on the company clock and then as soon as they start getting unruly Muzan makes a threat to fire them and everything goes quiet again. Kokushibo and Nakime are pretty assured of job security, and even if he doesn't give him unearned promotions or anything like that, everyone notices that the boss speaks in an oddly kinder manner to the quiet boy with the moles who stays to himself in his cubicle of family photos.

#kibutsuji muzan #rui #kokushibo #kny fandom theories and meta #my art #my dumb art #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

170 notes · View notes

judyhopps934-mt-zd · 4 years ago

Text

Thoughts on Miraculous Shanghai: The Legend of Lady Dragon

Warning: Spoilers! Other than that, have fun!

Also, if you want to watch the full English Dub, click here!

I love how we saw Fei's backstory as to how she became guardian of the Prodigious and how it was actually stolen because there are people who want money from her adoptive father's studio. It was also sad to see that the values her father implemented into her fade due to the circumstances they found themselves in. I speak for all of us to say that this girl needs a hug.

The intro as always is beautiful! Since it was not the first thing we saw, I was confused when looking through the episodes on YT.

I always enjoy Marinette's monologues, and this one was over how she looked forward to her holiday (it was like a vacation type thing). And how she looked forward to spend time with Adrien since his father was going to let him out. It was all perfect...

...until she went to deliver Uncle Wang's package and found out Adrien left for Shanghai at the last minute. But all is good though because she could go to Shanghai, deliver the gift personally, and see Adrien.

It hurts me to see that the writers made Marinette's purpose to go to Shanghai is to see Adrien when she can do that in Paris! It frustrates me that her character development goes back to square one, even as the protagonist of the show. People might point out this was before season 3, but I have a few points that say otherwise or that the writers are mixing things up. But first, the plot points and thoughts of everything else.

Also, I get that Marinette is 14/15/16 at the time of this episode, but how likely is it to send your child on their own halfway across the world??? On SHORT NOTICE??? I swear Sabine and Tom are too chill with this, but then again, there would be no story.

Also, I love how Ladybug and Chat Noir took the opportunity of their patrols without akumas to bond more. The Ladynoir in this episode I stan!

Gabriel you piece of trash! If you did not plan to spend time with your son, why take him to Shanghai when he was hoping to spend time with you?! And do not say "for business purposes" because even though Adrien is a face in the brand, at least don't give him false hope and that bs!

Nooro, thank you for trying to talk Gabriel out of it, but he is literally a wall (talking to Gabriel=talking to a wall)

I will say, the waiting for 15 years thing is very concerning.

Uncle Wang has been looking forward to see Marinette in person in Shanghai to learn more about her roots. He is ecstatic and its just heartwarming and heartbreaking when you think that part of Marinette's stay will be related to Adrien.

At least we see one thing that makes Marinette's stay not all about Adrien though: she is genuinely interested in her origins! Like when she asks about her family's traditional songs and about her mom, even learning her real name!

Speaking of which, Sabine's name is Xia Ping and only called herself Sabine when she started living in France. Also, I love her photo!

Bastille the bird that was around since forever is an icon!

Also, I can't believe Uncle Wang has not taken a break since Sabine moved to France, like what the hell??? Give this guy a break for goodness sake.

Thank you Gabriel for having one brain cell and allowing your son to leave the hotel! We still hate you for everything else though.

Its cool that Kwamis speak all of the languages. It is also the most logical thing because their wielder could be from anywhere. My question is are they taught the languages, does it form when a concept forms in the universe and they start existing, or like everything else is it magic?

Gorilla is iconic for two reasons: he is still a self care king, and he was willing to give Adrien some space to get action figures.

And now as I wrote that, this is where I am getting confused and start to believe this is post season 3: 1) Gorilla seems less anxious about being in a new place (unlike NY where he stayed in the hotel room the entire time), and 2) His obsession for action figures was shown in Party Crasher (season 3), which makes me wonder if the explanation is during season 3 or this episode hints at season 3. For the first point, it could be because Gabriel was not in NY to his knowledge.

Fei appears again and explains how she views the world and how she also uses that to help and take advantage of others.

She almost steals Adrien's phone and miraculous until Gorilla steps in. It hurts me because she is a good person but had to resort to stealing for a reason that we will explore soon.

Plagg, we always say your stomach causes trouble, but this time, you brought Adrien to Marinette's uncle...

...but also that ironically separated them as Marinette found them just as they climbed into the taxi.

This is also where Fei (wearing a disguise) crosses paths with Marinette and steals her purse. Then she went for the kwagatama and miraculous.

Things get worse for Fei as these boys that took a photo with Adrien earlier started chasing her. Then Marinette started going after them.

That is when she realized she was robbed and understandably, she was more horrified of losing her Miraculous.

Adrien shows up to Uncle Wang's home/restaurant. So many iconic moments happen.

1) Bastille says something about love between Marinette and Adrien. And Adrien responds with the line that makes us want to jump into the TV and talk some sense into him.

2) You say that "she's JuST a fRIenD" yet you stay over with her mom's uncle so you can surprise her lol. Adrien, you kill me and every other Adrienette fan with this contradicting statements.

Speaking of Marinette, she gets lost and has trouble communicating with others because she does not speak Chinese. And at some point says that she regrets not taking lessons?! Uh, what does this imply, that she refused lessons or that she did not have the opportunity for lessons??????? I NEED ANSWERS!

Can we say once again how talented and artistic Marinette is? Bad time? Moving on!

Uncle Wang is unaware of Marinette's tardiness, and Adrien just jokes about it. Considering that she is technically missing (reality is that she's lost), I don't think its time to joke about it.

The lady that gave Marinette some earrings that look like the Miraculous is so nice and bless her soul

The person from the pawn shop is the bad guy that we see at the very end of the NY special! And he knows about what happened to Fei's father! I am grateful that he sees no value in Marinette's stuff so he won't sell it for a lot, but I hate how he's greedy for money and was willing to exploit Fei's hunger for answers and Marinette needing her miraculous for personal gains.

Meanwhile, the boys from the photo with Adrien that chased Fei were trying to get Marinette's attention (they found her kwagatama when Fei dropped it running away and fighting them), but she thought they were gonna attack her. And then she bumps into Fei, who helps her escape.

Marinette finds comfort in Fei for being willing to "help" her (remember that she was gonna bring her to the pawn shop). She also finds Fei as a helpful, kind person who is brave: something that Fei does not see in herself, but does not have the heart to tell Marinette the truth.

Meanwhile, Chat has transformed to find Marinette and its the most endearing thing I've seen! Adrien, you blind oblivious fool! You care about her more than you think!

They arrive in the pawn shop, Tikki escaped the claw machine, and Marinette finds the earrings...for 100000 Yuan.

Fei, understanding what its like to have something entrusted to you be stolen, gets in a spat with the pawn shop owner in Chinese, accusing the owner for greed and accusing Fei for theft, while Marinette just stands her.

Also, when did Marinette become naive???????? I get that she's in another country and they are speaking in a different language that she does not understand, but based on the tone of their voices and shouting, I feel like she should have sensed something was off.

Fei swaps the earrings the lady gave Marinette and took the miraculous back. To the lady, this is why your soul is blessed. So bless your soul!!!

Apparently, Marinette realized what happened and said that Fei stole her earrings and feels bad for the man. Girl, you do not have to feel guilty for the man! He was about to destroy them before he thought about sentimental value! Also, he did not pay Fei anything for them! (Felt that this should be brought up because even though Fei was wrong in stealing her stuff, she was also robbed from potential cash and answers, therefore the man was owed nothing.)

The boys from Adrien's photo are actually vigilantes of Shanghai (and will be referred as such from now on), wanting to bring Fei to justice for stealing, which catches Marinette's attention, but not enough to ask any questions.

Also Marinette is not wanted as a criminal. She is missing as Uncle Wang called the police.

Fei still lives in the school, which has been in ruins. Despite not having much, she still offers Marinette a cup of what I believe is water (or tea?). See peoples, Fei is a good person at heart (if y'all aren't aware of it by now)

Gabriel saw and recognized Marinette. This is horrifying and if it is prior to season 3, we see why he tries so hard to target her. Or reasons why he targets her in season 4 along with everything else we know from "Truth".

Fei should have been given the chance to explain why she stole Marinette's things, but the pawn shop owner was like "you know, I might as well expose Fei myself"...

...and it really broke Marinette, who heavily trusted her. But she can't dwell on it for long...

...because AKUMA COMES FOR THE PAWN SHOP OWNER! AND HIS FAN SHOOTS KNIVES! AND HAS GREEDY MOTIVES! AND HELPED HAWKMOTH GET INTI THE CAVE WITH THE PRODIGIOUS!!!

Also, Nathalie was involved in obtaining the bracelet years ago. Again, the 15 years thing is concerning.

Marinette flees to transform, but not without telling Fei how she broke her trust and how she feels that Feinwas not genuinely helping her. It hurt me so much!

Ladybug transforms, hears Chat's voice-mail (to which she is swooned by the fact her kitty cares for her civilian self), and calls him. The best Ladynoir scene so far!

So the prodigious is like a jewel with powers, there is only one prodigious from what we see, and that one prodigious has multiple renlings that only the wielder can see. Oh, and the bracelet is like a key. Cool.

I don't like how Fei's Lady Dragon outfit looks whitewashed, but at least her hair is red instead of blonde (which still does not make this okay)

Epic Showdown between the akuma, Hawkmoth, Ladybug, and Lady Dragon. Hawkmoth corners Ladybug and Lady Dragon gets caught in some rocks.. All hope seemed lost...

...until Chat shows up and frees the akuma with the help of a basketball.

We learn something new folks: the same butterfly can create a different akuma. This is very frightening because...

The statue that determines who is worthy of the prodigious gets akumatized! The horror!

Also, if the statue says Fei cannot become the dragon because her intention to seek vengeance for her father is not noble and worthy, then what makes Hawkmoth think he will be successful in becoming the dragon??? Because it seems that his intentions are not pure or noble. Just saying.

Hawkmoth notices the akumatized statue heading to the city and all of a sudden remembers about Adrien. Confronting the statue, he gets turned into ashes(?).

CHAT, HAWKMOTH IN ASHES WOULD HAVE BEEN FOR THE BETTER IF THE STATUE DID NOT DESTROY SHANGHAI AND YOU WOULD NOT THINK AS SUCH IF YOU KNEW HE WAS YOUR FATHER! But I am not mad at you, just wanted to point out your irony.

ML WRITERS, WHY DO YOU KEEP KILLING OFF CHAT????? LADYBUG DOES NOT NEED ANY MORE TRAUMA AND THAT WAS COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY!!!! I AM SCREAMING INSIDE!!!!!

Fei is understandably upset and blames herself for what happen. I want to hug her so badly.

Marinette reassures Fei and forgives her, even though Fei felt that she could not be forgiven.

The structure they were standing on collapses and it was Fei as the Dragon who saved her, not Chat. Honestly, I love how it turned out as it strengthens their friendship, but I still prefer a Marichat alternative. WHERE IS THE MARICHAT PEOPLES???

Final showdown!

Poor statue guard was upset about the damage they caused as an akuma, but Miraculous Ladybiug fixes everything.

Fei learned an important lesson: let justice take its course, not enact revenge. But it was quite funny to have the pawn shop owner be flown away to court in a literal sense.

The bracelet has a renling-like creature, who is just so adorable, especially since they missed Fei and was waiting for the day they would be reunited. Aww!

Ladynoir version of the Moon scene from NYC! Except no dancing, just them challenging each other over who will get to Paris first if they traveled in opposite directions. No one shall ever know we were in Shanghai as civilians lol (Reminds me of my best friend when eating grapes during choral rehearsals)

Marinette, Adrien, Fei, and Uncle Wang enjoying a birthday (?) dinner was wholesome.

I love how Uncle Wang calls them boyfriend and girlfriend because of how they act around each other, yet Marinette and Adrien both deny it. Bruh, these children need to open their fricking eyes! I really wanted to jump through my phone screen!

The Shanghai Vigilantes came to return Marinette's kwagatama necklace. They are so precious even though we thought they were enemies in the trailer.

Even though they were at odds at first, love how the Vigilantes blushed when Fei played the accordion and she's just like "whatever". I stan an asexual queen.

Do I even want to know what Marinette accidentally said when she mispronounced "sister" in Chinese? Based on what Fei said, probably not.

Uh...NOW I WANT TO SEE MORE OF ADRIEN TEACHING MARINETTE CHINESE! While I do take some issue of Adrien (a white French boy) teaching Marinette her culture like most of us had issue with in "Kung Food", I also want to see them interact outside of school and hopefully bond. ML writers need to keep their word otherwise Adrienette stans will riot!

Love how the final scene turned out! Its just *chef's kisses*

Also, the hell with the business trip?? It was mentioned once again IN THE ENDCARD! It might not be as interesting, but I want to think that there was more truth to it.

Also, wifi troubles kept interrupting the show at crucial moments, but okay.

Overall, I live for the Shanghai episode! The animation is just as incredible as the NY special (which I also live for) and I love how this episode has a great focus on Fei and the prodigious. I mean, before the intro, she tells her story. And she has her monologues alongside Marinette's. In many ways, it's refreshing. Also, Ladynoir and Adrienette stans will be satiated with the scenes associated with each ship. Also, I love Fei's character development! And the final scene is wholesome!

I won't lie though: there are a few issues regarding whitewashing Fei's transformation and such. It is important to see these things and as a good friend of mine always says: you can enjoy something while also being critical of it. And that is very important no matter how devotive to something you actually are.

Anyways, we are being well fed with all the Miraculous content and I will see you all very soon! Also, get some sleep peoples! I know some of you aren't sleeping!

173 notes · View notes

handy-dandy-monster-candy · 4 years ago

Text

Ruathym, part Three

Rating: NSFW Length: 2272 Pairing: Male Drider x GN Reader

The finale for the romance for @kim-monsterlings!

xxx

Much to your surprise, Ruathym gives you space. There are fewer summons and the spies make themselves ever scarcer, until you could swear there were long stretches of time in which you were truly alone. Even more surprising, you found yourself becoming restless and ill-tempered in these moments, losing your patience with even Tinki. (Of course, you make it up to the little, well-meaning creature; spiders, you learn, are surprisingly good at puppy-dog eyes.)

“You’ve been snapping at the staff left and right,” Ruathym says with no small amount of amusement some days later, braiding your hair down your scalp. It’s gotten longer, you realise, and you contemplate cutting it before your captor speaks. “Have I displeased you in some way?”

Yes, you wish to say, but you’re sure that the King has done nothing wrong. Not truly. “No,” you say instead, though it sounds unconvincing to your own ears.

“Hm,” hums Ruathym, tugging gently at your hair in admonishment. “With the way you’ve been acting, one might get the impression that you dislike being far from my side.” You twitch and he laughs, triumphant. “Is that it, my little bug? Have you come to crave the pull of my silk?”

“I wish you wouldn’t mock me,” you grouse, sighing heavily. “It reminds me why I prefer my own company.”

Ruathym chuckles, fingertips skating along the skin of your back before he picks you up and cradles you against him in his four arms. “I thought humans needed time to mourn their losses,” he says, searching your face with something sharper in his eyes than his usual derision. “I’m no reader of minds, my sweet. You must tell me if you have want of me.”

You scoff. You can’t help it. When has being vulnerable ever served you well? You almost bite his fingers when he turns your face to look into your eyes, sighing once again in your defeat. “And if I do?” you challenge, lifting your proud chin. “What of it?”

“Then you shall become my consort,” says Ruathym, with a simple frankness that flabbergasts you.

“Your—what?” you gasp, distantly aware that your lips are flapping like a fish on the docks.

“Do try not to make me repeat myself,” Ruathym replies in exasperation, pinching your chin. “My consort. My lover. Whatever you humans call those of our stations in courtship.”

“But I’m human!” you splutter, struggling to sit up straighter in his arms.

“I’m aware,” drawls Ruathym, helping you get your bearings—at least physically. “Did you think I was sleeping with you because you disgusted me?”

“I…” You don’t have the words. You don’t know what you thought, but it definitely wasn’t this. “You think I’m attractive?”

“What did I just say about making me repeat myself?”

You huff, scowling up into his handsome, angular face. “You wouldn’t be. I want answers, not riddles.”

Ruathym snorts indelicately, one of his few habits that doesn’t come with some modicum of damnable grace. “Yes, I find you attractive. No one else has the audacity to speak to me the way that you do. I find it thrilling.”

“You mean you like it when I’m cruel.” You frown. “That’s not what I’m after. I don’t want to be cruel to my lover. If you want to court me, you do it right.”

Ruathym carefully sets you down on the bed, curling his legs up under himself and draping his humanoid torso across plump, velvety pillows. “Teach me what humans do ‘right’, then,” he commands, gesturing for you to speak.

You flounder for a moment; this was not how you expected your evening to go. “We… We court,” you say dumbly, gesticulating helplessly. “We exchange gifts of trinkets and flowers, we write one another letters, we—well, usually there’s pining involved, I suppose.”

“How dull,” sighs the King, watching you beneath his thick, silvery lashes. “Driders kill for their lovers.”

The weight of his words isn’t lost on you. You think of your brother and his knights—of the entirety of the kingdom laid to waste at your feet. You feel lightheaded, blood creeping up your neck and up into your face. You have to resist the urge to hide from the slow, smug smirk of satisfaction that melts onto the Drider King’s face. Damn the man. Had he been courting you in his own way this entire time? Damn him!

“What about the Queen?” you ask, hedging around the obvious revelation and latching onto one of your more prominent doubts.

Ruathym blinks hard, clearly startled. “What about her?”

“You’re married,” you say, “and she hates me. Won’t she want me dead once she realises her lover’s attention has strayed?”

The King laughs, hard and loud, throwing his head back with his mirth and revealing his fangs. “She’s never loved me a day in her life,” he manages to gurgle after several seconds of laughter, “and the feeling is mutual. We married for politics and to spawn strong children. That’s all. If she so much as schemes to harm a hair on your head, I will kill her or die trying.”

“Ruathym!”

“What? Does it shock you? I protect what is mine, little bug, and you are what I wish to possess in your entirety.”

You bristle at this, though you curse your stupid heart for fluttering in your chest like a tizzied moth. “I’m not a thing, Ruathym. You can’t possess me. Either you love me, or our arrangement remains the same.”

Ruathym shrugs an elegant shoulder, expression shifting into something bordering on thoughtful. “What is love to a human may not be love to a drider, little one. I want you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. Is that not love? I would kill you before I allowed you to court another. Is that not love? I would lay down my life to protect you. Is that not love, this powerful, ugly thing?”

You don’t know what to say to this. You want to object, but your heart is pounding too loudly, your thoughts are too muddled. Never has someone felt so strongly about you, and while your feelings are conflicted, you can’t deny that there’s something intoxicating about the King and his firm command of you in and out of the bedchambers.

Courtship with Ruathym is… interesting. He sends you poisonous flowers at first for their beauty, unaware that their very touch could kill you. When you correct him, he expresses his disdain for human frailty, but then he sends for roses and takes the care to have their thorns removed so as to avoid any chance of injury. It’s excessive and obnoxious, but it’s endearing in its own way, even if you’ve never been particularly fond of roses. Still, each bouquet is a different colour paired with different complimentary flowers, and you begin to look forward to your weekly deliveries with something like anticipation.

Then there are the letters.

As expected, Ruathym’s lettering is swooping and elegant, more reminiscent of ornamental calligraphy than what one would use for writing to a lover. Still, each letter holds within it a terribly sweet awkwardness that lets you know that he’s never written a letter out of love in the whole of his life. He’s strangely formal at first, addressing you by all of your names in the greetings of his first few letters, but it isn’t long before he’s dropping them all in favour of addressing you as he does in person. It makes your heart flutter oddly in your chest to see ‘little bug’ written in such beautiful, glittering script, shimmering silver on charcoal grey parchment.

Soon, they become less letters and more little notes delivered on scraps here and there. Tiny doodles of advisors dying terrible deaths done in the throes of boredom, or tidbits of trivia from the kingdom at large. Did you know we had 5,363 cattle in the region of the L’Surba Caverns? Neither did I know nor care, one says, and you snort into your tea at the thought of the King sitting proudly while some poor sod with an abacus counted out their livestock from the sum of several reports. While you missed the weight of your crown, you did not exactly miss all of the bureaucracy attached to it.

He takes you on little outings, here and there. At first it’s a simple stroll through the gardens, sharing meals and speaking about your days. Then, as you both grow bolder, outings to meet—or, in his case, intimidate—the people. Finally, with glamours and enchantments, you take to the countryside for days at a time, disguised as a couple or adventurers on a quest. It’s during these outings that you get to know him best, away from the bustle of the castle, where his impetuous charm and rakish smiles lure you to him like a moth to flame, and you crash and burn in his heated embrace.

One evening many months later, you are summoned to a part of the palace that you rarely frequent, for it is usually crawling with servants and vassals of every kind. Now, however, the halls are quiet and still, and the servant who leads you to the chamber where Ruathym awaits disappears like a whisper in the dark. There, in the centre of the room, is a set of robes unlike any you’ve ever seen, woven in shimmering silk dyed the colour of rubies. You approach as if in a dream, running your fingers along embroidery in the shape of tiny silver spiderlings along the shoulders and hems—you nearly jump out of your skin when the King drapes himself across your back.

“What is this?” you whisper, looking over your shoulder at his soft, searching face.

“Your wedding attire,” he says, and he seems unperturbed when you draw away, stunned.

“My what? Your wife!”

“Is dead,” Ruathym simply replies, shaking his head at your unasked question. “We had a clutch of eggs. She went the natural way. The children feed on her yet.”

You grimace at this, though you can’t deny the relief you feel at her passing. “You’re a father now?”

“I am. You will also be their parent, when we wed.”

“‘When’? You’re assuming I’ll accept!”

“Would you deny me?” he asks sharply, eyes narrowing into gleaming slits.

Your stomach flips. “Well,” you say, flustered and at a loss. “This is all so sudden, Ruathym!”

“Is it really?” he asks, reeling you in against him again. “We’ve posed as newlyweds before. Why is it so different now?”

“Because it’s real now! We wouldn’t be pretending!”

“Who says that I was pretending before?” he demands, trapping you between his body and the robe on the mannequin. “It was practise.”

You feel your face burning, and you’re sure you might blend into the robe at your back if given just a little more provocation. “You despicable little—“

“Yes, yes, call me names,” he says, waving away your insults. “Later. Give me your answer now.”

“You know my answer,” you grumble, pushing ineffectively at his chest.

“I know it,” he confirms, smugness in every syllable. “I wish to hear it.”

You kiss him instead, drawing him into a passionate embrace and climbing up into his arms when he lifts you off your feet. You hadn’t seen the bed in the corner of the room, but that’s where he takes you a moment later, tossing your “irritating human clothing” over the edge of it and onto the floor. You expect him to bend you over the pillows. You expect him to claw at your skin, to bite at your shoulders, to whisper filth into your ears.

He kisses you instead.

He kisses you like neither of you have ever borne a crown—as if he could find the answers in the hazing of your eyes when he steals your breath with his tongue, hands in your hair and burning along your spine. He teases you open with his fingers until you’re reduced to begging for release, and then he presses into you with soft, shuddering breaths spilling from his lips, eyes on your face as you toss your head back into the sheets and writhe.

He sighs your name like a psalm when you come around him, and then he pushes into you again and again, his cool fingers threading between yours and holding you firmly against the bed as you shake apart beneath him. You feel something in your chest unbreak when he bites you without fang, staying present for every moment that his lips brush against yours and your name falls into the pool of heat between you.

This time, when he comes, he shatters like a shower of glass and sparks, cresting against you like a wave and pushing you over the edge all over again, throat trapped desperately—willingly—between his teeth. When your eyes focus again, you find him looking down at you with a tenderness you’d never thought him capable of, and it makes you want to hide. “What?” you whisper up at him, trying and failing to tug a bit of the sheets over your body.

��I love you, little bug,” Ruathym whispers back, tracing your lips with his thumb. “I have done and will do so until this heart in my chest stops beating.”

“That’s so dark,” you say, “for a declaration of love.”

“It is my declaration, and I am not a man of light. Would you deny me?”

“No,” you breathe, shyly reaching up to touch his face. “I love you, too.”

Ruathym smiles, and despite his words, it lights up the room. “I know.”

You snort. “Bastard.”

“I know that, too.”

#exophilia #exophilia fic #monster romance #monster lemon #monster boyfriend #drider boyfriend #drider #monster x reader #gn reader #Ruathym #POSTED THIS TO THE WRONG BLOG AT FIRST LMAOOOO #My work

365 notes · View notes

bcdrawsandwrites · 4 years ago

Photo

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: T

Genre: Angst

Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Loboto’s parents

Warnings: Surgery, lobotomy, hallucinations, child abuse, EVERYTHING IS HORRIBLE AND NOTHING IS OKAY WITH THIS (but there’s nothing graphic)

Description: Just be still, and you'll be fine.

Beta Readers: @jaywings and Rocket (who I’m not sure is on Tumblr?)

Notes: who let me write Psychonauts fanfic. also some of the phrases in this fic were taken from this site.

---~~~---

“Scattering sparks of thought energy

Deliver me and carry me away”

“Here in my kingdom, I am your lord

I order you to cower and præy”

- The Mind Electric, by Tally Hall

---

Sometimes it was nice to just lay down in the park and watch the clouds float overhead.

He often had a lot of energy, both normal and... well... unnatural, but sometimes it was nice to relax, especially when he didn't feel like himself. His energy was ebbing, and there was something… something...

"Can you tell us another?"

He glanced up. Several of his usual playmates were standing around him, their faces lit up in interest. He grinned a wide, toothy grin.

"The boy babbled blatantly but was blessed with a brilliant brain!"

"Good!"

The compliment made his brow furrow. Normally they might cheer "cool!" or "awesome!" but he shrugged—he'd take it. It gave him a warm feeling inside, unlike the frequent chill of his own home. Plus, he couldn’t help but light up as he watched the smiles on his friends’ faces—some of them were still losing baby teeth, he noted, and the progression was fascinating. He knew what he could do to see more of those grins, too...

Without raising his head too much—it hurt a little, and he could see well enough from where he was—he glanced around to make sure his mother wasn't too close by. Luckily she was way off in the pavilion, talking to several other adults. Good; she wouldn't see, and neither would the other prying parents.

"How about this?" he asked, and with a tiny bit of concentration lifted a few rocks off the ground, spinning them in circles. Instead of cheering, however, the children backed away, their smiles fading.

"Look, he's trying to—!" one girl whispered frantically.

"Don't worry, he's fine for now."

He frowned, dropping the rocks. "O-oh, I'm sorry! I didn't think they would see..."

"That's okay. Can you tell us another?"

"Disappointed dogs don't do dangerous deeds." Wincing, he closed his eyes—there was a breeze that seemed to pass over his head only, running through his hair.

His scalp felt cold.

---

"Go on, Caligosto. Show the doctor how you can pick it up."

"Like this...?"

"No, the other way."

"But... mother doesn't like it when I do it that way."

"Do as you're told, Caligosto."

"...Okay..."

The fish swam all about the pond, but came closer to the surface when they realized he was watching from his usual spot on the shore. As they nearned him, he settled over the grass, staring down at his scaly friends. The fish seemed to like his company, and they wouldn't snitch to his parents if he did anything they wouldn't like.

On top of that, he felt a connection with them, almost like the sort of connection he could feel with people. They couldn't talk, and they didn't have facial expressions… but he could almost read them somehow, more and more as he continued visiting. Now he could sense what foods they wanted, or when they were scared of a nearby predator. It was nice to help them out.

It was also interesting to see the different kinds of teeth the fish had—some had sharp fangs, some had tiny flat teeth, and some had teeth in weird places, like their tongue or throat!

"Can you hear us?"

He would have jumped, but that would have scared the fish. As it was, he leaned forward, his eyes wide beneath their glasses. "Yes! I can hear you!" He could hardly contain his excitement. "I'd always thought I could hear you before, but never this clear! Do you think—"

"Good! Can you tell us another?"

He blinked. "Another what?"

"Another phrase."

Oh, right. In his excitement he'd nearly forgotten that he'd occasionally show off for the fish as well, though he'd never been sure if they could understand. "Friendly fish flip-flop fast when facing fearsome foes!"

"Very good!"

Giggling, he settled himself back down on the soft grass. "I'm glad you think so... my parents always tell me to be quiet."

Apparently, the fish had nothing to say to this, for they remained quiet, swimming just under the surface and watching him. So he kept watching them too, observing the light that reflected off their scales. But one creature caught his eye: a small turtle swimming in place. It was odd to see to begin with, but the paddling of its little feet seemed strangely frantic, its front legs moving in big sweeping arcs. It didn't speak, but he swore he could hear it—

Away, away—

---

"Is that... all he's capable of?"

"I'm afraid not."

"D—Father, are we done? I don't like it here..."

"Only speak when spoken to, Caligosto."

"Can we see anything else?"

"Yes."

"I-I don't want to—"

"Caligosto."

"Okay, okay! Let me—"

---

The seas were calm, and he had worked hard today as a navigator (or was he first mate? he couldn't quite remember, but that was okay), keeping a close eye on the compass and making sure they were staying on course. They were nearing the shore, but for now, he was taking a break, resting against a coil of rope with his eyes closed, enjoying the smell of the ocean air and the feeling of sunshine.

And also trying to forget his headache—he was pretty sure he bumped his head coming down from the crow's nest.

"You're doin' good today, mate! Squawk!"

He opened one eye, noting the parrot sitting just behind him. "Thanks, Crackers!"

Birds hadn’t been something that interested him too much at first; what kind of silly animal didn’t have teeth? That is, until he’d learned that birds have a weird organ that acted as their teeth. Fascinating!

The parrot cocked her head at him. "Do you know any more?"

Oh right, of course the parrot enjoyed those phrases. "The pretty parrot perched upon the putrid pirate's peacoat!"

Crackers gave a pleased chirp, ruffling her feathers.

Wincing, he found his headache was starting to get worse, like a bad toothache, and closed his eyes again. "Do you think we'll reach shore soon?"

We won't if you don't get out.

He opened his eyes. Crackers was gone.

---

"STOP! STOP! MAKE IT STOP!"

"What are you doing?!"

"I-I just did what you asked—"

"I didn't tell you to—!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Put him out, hurry—"

"We've seen enough, doctor. We'll schedule an appointment for your son next week."

"N-next week?!"

"Very well. He'll be there promptly."

---

The kids’ expressions had changed from bright smiles to tightly-drawn lips and wide eyes, and it made him shudder. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, it's fine. Tell us another."

"The store..." He paused, concentrating. Strange, he didn't usually have trouble remembering these things, but it must have just been his headache. "The store clerk stood and... stared at me in stupor."

"I would too after what I've seen," one kid muttered, only to be shushed by another.

His heart gave a pained jolt. "Wh-what?"

"Nothing!"

He didn't like the way they were talking—it reminded him of... something else. Someone else. Another child stepped closer to him, looking down at him with a furrowed brow and frightened eyes. He felt the sudden urge to scoot away.

You're in danger.

---

"Wh...where am I supposed to go?"

"Just in through these doors."

"Okay... Why do I have to come back here to the doctor, though? I feel fine."

"Nevermind that. Do you remember what your father told you to do?"

"Yeah! The fun phrases. I know a million of those!"

"Good."

"Would you like to hear... w-wait, who are all these people watching? Wh... what are those?"

---

The fish were swimming in circles and starting to make him dizzy. He rested his head down in the cool grass, but it did little to help. "Oh... sorry. I'm not feeling so good. I should be going home..."

"You can go home soon. Tell us another first."

"Ugh... My mom... m-my... mother makes a... marvelous... meat... mincemeat pie." Recalling these phrases was starting to feel like what he imagined pulling teeth felt like, but a lot less fun. Was his mother missing him now? How long had he been gone? "I... really need to go home now."

"No you don't."

His eyes shot open, and he shivered as he stared down at the fish. "Wh... what did you... say?"

"Don't try to move. You'll be all right."

All of the fish watched him eagerly... but the turtle was still waving its front feet even more frantically.

---

"Don't worry about that."

"N-no! I know what those tools are—I've read my dad's books. You're gonna hurt me!"

"Nonsense. Just lay on the bed and you'll be fine."

"No, I don't want to! You can't make me!"

---

The ship heaved up and down with the swell of the waves. His insides rolled with it, and he remained lying on the coil of rope, waiting for his stomach to stop lurching and his head to stop aching.

"You stopped. Keep going."

"Ugh... The newt... nuzzled in a... n-narrow... nook."

"Good."

"No, it's not, Crackers! I don't feel good..."

"You're fine, squawk! Try to distract yourself."

"Okay..." Opening one eye, he raised a shaky hand, lifting the end of the rope and making it snake through the air, though it shuddered all the while. It was a lot more difficult than usual... Normally he could lift several objects at once, and delighted the crew by juggling them. He felt like he should be able to do other things too, but what?

---

"Oh mercy! He's going to kill someone!"

"Caligosto, if you don't stop this at once, I will call your father!"

"So call him! I want him here! Why didn't he come with me?!"

"Oh no, he's trying to light the chair on fire—"

"Go get the earmuffs, now."

"MOM! DAD! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"GET THEM NOW!"

---

The sun was covered in clouds, and the humid air brought a promise of rain. Why were the other kids still here? Surely their parents would have called them home by now. He wished they would. Surely his mom would have called him, too, wouldn't she?

"Tell us another," one girl asked urgently, taking a hesitant step forward.

His head was swimming. "I-I don't wanna..."

"Tell us now."

Focusing, he managed to force his mind to concentrate. "She sniffed... and s-smelled... the stirring storm."

"Good, tell us another," one fish bubbled from the water.

A sharp pain like a broken tooth filled his skull, his insides felt sick, and the rain was beginning to fall. "I... I can't..."

"Tell us, Caligosto."

"B... Bernie read a book... b-by the... ba—babbling brook." He wanted to wipe the rain from his face, but he felt too exhausted to move his arms. "C-can I go... home..."

"Squawk! We're not to shore yet. Give me another."

He stared up at the blurred vision of the bird. "Why...?"

"Do as you're told."

"Th-the... hummingbirds... hovered... a-and hummed in... heavenly..." His voice broke off into a choked sob. "I wanna... no... I wanna... go home..."

"Caligosto?"

---

"I WANT TO GO HOME!"

"Get it on him, get it on—"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!"

"Where did he go?!"

"The monster's turned invisible!"

"I WANNA GO HOME!"

"There! Put it on right—there!"

"STOP, I WANNA—"

---

"...go home!"

He blinked.

"You are home, Cali," his mother said, beaming down at him with a wide, pearly-white grin.

"I am?" Blinking again, he looked around. Indeed, he was in front of his house, with his parents both standing on the front porch, as they had been when he'd left. On top of that, his head didn't hurt and he didn't feel sick. "I... I am!"

"You're all done with the doctors now," his father said, smiling. "We're so proud of you!"

"You... you are?" He stared open-mouthed; his father had never told him that before. "I'm all done?"

"Yes you are, dear." His mother knelt down, but he didn't come closer—something was making his hair stand on end. "Almost."

His stomach twisted.

"Just tell us another, son."

"N... no..."

The smile on his father's face faded. "Do as you're told, Caligosto."

"N-no... no, no..." He tried to shake his head, but couldn't. "I... I want to go home..."

The pain was coming back, spiking through his head, and he cried out.

"We're going to lose him—"

"No, just a little more."

"No," he sobbed. "No, no! Mom! Dad!"

The park was flooding. The fish were swirling around his head. Waves crashed over the boat.

He had to do something. Anything.

Focusing with everything he had left, he tried to think, tried to move something, tried to make something burn, tried to call for help—

Did—did you hear that?

Cali?

The agony peaked, and his vision turned orange.

---

"Ooooh... ugh..."

"Is this safe?"

"It's safe for us. The psilirium will keep him under control during the procedure."

"But can he still hear us?"

"Son, can you tell us one of your funny phrases?"

"Sure... grass grows greener in the graveyard."

"You see? He'll be fine."

---

There was no park.

There was no pond.

There was no ocean.

There were several doctors staring down at him, a great many more people seated in the theater behind them, and an empty feeling within him.

Something was gone. Something important.

"How do you feel, Caligosto?"

His brain was slow to work, and he could not form the words, but if he could have, he would have answered:

Like... a cavity.

#dr loboto #loboto #caligosto loboto #psychonauts #my art #my writing #fanfic #who let me in this fandom

96 notes · View notes

canary3d-obsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 01

(Masterpost) (Next Episode)

Warning: This is **FULL **of spoilers, not just for this episode but for the entire series. If you haven’t finished all 50 episodes, please don’t read it!

Intro: 2020 continues to be much much too much while also being incredibly boring, and Im done with Shen Wei’s Lewks, so now I’m doing a deep meta dive into the Untamed. Let’s roll!

Prologue: The Battle of Mordor

The Demise of our Protagonist

Unlike some other shows I won’t name, The Untamed kills its suicidal queer protagonist immediately, rather than waiting four seasons, so we know what we're in for.

This is Wei Wuxian, who is about to yeet himself off of a cliff. He is having a bad day.

Note: if mouth blood bothers you...C-Drama might not be your thing.

Reasons for mouth blood: a sampler

Anyway...cliff time

Note: if (fictional) suicide bothers you...C-Drama might not be your thing.

To be fair there are hardly any suicides in The Untamed. No more than ...five? As long as you don’t count the entire population of the Wen Corporate Headquarters in Yiling or those wall bandits in Qinghe or Madame Yu or all those Wens who supposedly threw themselves into the mud puddle or that Mo guy who broke his own neck. Plus watching Wei Wuxian’s cliff drop several more times from multiple angles. So, you know. Hardly Any Suicides.

This is Lan Wangji, who is about to have his first losing encounter with physics. He is having a bad day.

In fact, if it is possible to have a worse day than the guy who is currently falling to his death, Lan Wangji is having that.

This is Jiang Cheng, who is feeling extra stabby from this camera angle. He is having a bad day.

Camera operator: why you gotta take it out on me?

(Much, much more after the cut!)

The Amulet Situation

This is the Stygian Tiger Amulet. Yes, by all means, (Netflix) subtitles, let's use a 12-dollar word, “Stygian,” that every English speaker who is not a Shelley/Byron shipper will have to look up. Let’s not use a normal word like "deathly" or "corrupt" or you know... "Yin" which is clearly what they are saying on screen.

Why does this tiger amulet look like a chameleon crossed with a remora? Wei Wuxian can paint photorealistic bunnies on a flimsy lantern while sitting in a field having distracting teenage lust, but two months of meditating with super magic gets him a tiger that looks like a chameleon. And don’t try telling me this is a traditional-Chinese-art vibe because this jade tiger from frickin 1000 BCE is way more tigerish than Wei Wuxian’s attempt.

Try harder next time, Wei Wuxian.

This is thousands of cultivators having a battle. What do you mean, it looks like about 40-60 dudes?

Any time someone in The Untamed refers to a number of people, it is like when you do your high school play and look off into the wings at nothing and say “Hark, A Ship Approaches!” and everyone’s parents nod indulgently.

Jin Clan Mountain Hunt:

*viewership nods indulgently*

This is Captain Blowhard, over on the right, courtesy name Clan Leader Yao. His job is to talk smack about Wei Wuxian and stick up for whoever is the biggest asshole in any given scene.

He represents mainstream cultivation-world values so here he is shanking one of his allies to take the deadly amulet of evilness.

The Present Day

Spilling All That Yiling Laozu Tea

Down at the Exposition Tea Shop, the Lan juniors are chilling and listening to Tea Dude tell the story of Yiling Laozu.

How did they get permission to take this field trip? “Principal Qiran, we want to go downtown to hang out with the local rabble and learn about your favorite person, Wei Wuxian.”

Waiting in the wings is the man with a fan and a plan, Nie Huaisan(g), who is paying tall loot to get these stories told.

...Why? Is Mo Xuanyu having tea here and listening? Or is Wei Wuxian being summoned back by hearing all this smack being talked about him? *Shrug.*

Gank Your Soul

Drunk flag guy out here talking about spirits. Wikipedia tells me that In one school of Daoist thought, a human being has a collection of physical souls (魄 pò) and ethereal souls (魂 hún). Drunk flag guy is saying “hún ” at the moment.

The many types of souls don’t translate well into English, where spiritual vocabulary has always been shackled connected to Christian beliefs, and is too limited for this context. So when the subtitles have conversations like “Is it a soul eater? No, no, it’s a spirit taker!” just roll with it. (Speaking of hún, if you have any interest in linguistics, do yourself a favor and go read all the wonderful meta @hunxi-guilai)

The spirit-carrying flag looks a lot like Raava and Vaatu from Korra which...probably doesn’t mean anything.

The Demise of our Trill Host

Suicide #2 happens about 8 minutes in.

Mo Xuanyu is that hippie roommate with the annoying wind chimes and bead curtains and blood spatter.

He is super mad at his terrible family and also at Jin Guangyao, who sent him home to his terrible family. I wonder if Fan Man Nie Huaisang influenced Jiggy’s decision-making there. Mo Xuanyu’s choice to die for revenge might be excessive, given how easy it actually is to murder the Mo family.

Being Alive Is Fine I Guess As Long As I Get To Fuck WIth People

Wei Wuxian starts his new life by splashing a little water on his face, which instantly makes his hair go from this

to this.

He looks at his reflection and wishes he was dead, which--mood--but he gets over it as soon as he finds someone whose day he can fuck up.

And he is ALL in on being crazy.

OP wishes she had the Wei Wuxian kind of crazy instead of the kind she actually has.

Meanwhile, this is the sane Mo cousin:

This asshole is wearing one of the best fabrics in the whole show, incidentally. Asshole.

My favorite bit of Wei-Mo craziness is when Wei Wuxian does a meaningless 360 all the way around this dude before ducking in the opposite direction, which is like when I make 4 right turns around a whole block to avoid making a single left across traffic.

Perhaps I Do Miss One Thing In This Life

Wei Wuxian has pining thoughts about Lan Wangji, so he plays WangXian on a fucking blade of grass well enough for Sizhui to recognize it from his dad's guqin jams.

Wei Wuxian is a better flautist than even Inspector Gadget BeatBoxing Flute Guy (Google it).

Our Many Many Spirit Lure Flags have Lured A Spirit, Oh Shit

Lan Clan has a Plan and Wei Wuxian is a Fan

Having one single lure flag stuck in Wen Ning’s torso caused spirits to basically eat him alive, so to catch one evil spirit, 6 disciples holding flags on the roof plus 8 more flags on the ground seems like a good amount. Wei Wuxian is like “yep, a single one of these will lure every spirit for five miles, carry on, younglings.”

Baxia Does the Heavy Lifting

Wei Wuxian is supposed to kill four people because of this curse situation, and in the course of the series they all die, and he kills exactly zero of them. The curse on Wei Wuxian’s arm should be called the scorekeeper curse.

Baxia’s spirit pinballs around the Mo clan, rapidly killing three people on Mo Xuanyu’s list plus a couple extras for good measure. Who's a good blade? Baxia is! Yess you are! Yes you are!

This here is the exact point in the show where your friend, who has listened to you squee about The Untamed for three months and finally agreed to watch it with you, will say “what the fuck am I watching?” and try to get up off the couch. Tackle them!

This also the point where we all realize that the prosthetic and practical effects in this show were probably not made by the people who made the clothing, because the quality is...variable. The white eyeballs are pretty good, but the glove of death is ridiculous.

Camera operator: why you gotta take it out on me?

While Baxia goes to town on the Mo clan, the Lan Clan babies...watch? And tie up the various victims after they are already goners.

Narrator: Her son is dead.

Meanwhile,

Wei Wuxian, you motherfucker. You’ve been alive for like 7 hours and you’re already building a new zombie army. No wonder you don’t want them to call Lan Wangji.

Hanguang-Jun Cut It Up One Time

Lan Wangji shows up and very slowly kicks zombie ass with his guqin. If you are used to Hong Kong action speeds, you will find The Untamed very peaceful.

All of the baby Lans fan squee up at Lan Wangji like he's the cultivation world's David Bowie and...they're not wrong. Jesus Fuck, he’s charismatic.

Lan Wangji is soft boi when he discovers this murderous sword full of dead-bastard energy, because it reminds him of his true love.

Like the talk about souls, the conversations about the nature of the murderous entity really don’t survive translation into English.

Servant: it’s a ghost!

WWX: it’s not a ghost, it’s a spirit

Babies: It’s a spirit

LWJ: it’s not a spirit, it’s a [...] ghost

Our Protagonist gets the FOH

Wei Wuxian is soft boi when he sees Lan Wangji, but not so soft that he considers actually, like, sticking around.

Wei Wuxian is also clueless boi, noting Lan Wangji’s white clothing and thinking, as in the past, that he looks like he’s dressed in mourning. The term he uses is 戴孝, which google tells me means the type of outfit worn by Jiang Yanli after Wen Ning rips her husband’s heart out someone who is in mourning.

Actually, Wei Wuxian, you dumbass, he is in actual mourning, actually, for you. Dumbass. He probably packed away all of his blue outer robes 16 years ago and only takes them out occasionally to reminisce about that nice date you had on your mountain of corpses.

On his way out the door Wei Wuxian manages to find a red ribbon for his beautiful hair, so things are looking up.

Where to go next...hey I know, how about that one haunted mountain with the killer statue, you know, the one that all my executed friends and child came from? That’ll be fun and a great way to put the past behind me!

Episode 02 Restless Rewatch is here!

#fytheuntamed #the untamed spoilers #the untamed gifs #the untamed #restless rewatch the untamed #tw: blood #tw: suicide #chen qing ling #cql #c-drama #bl drama #canary3d-original #the untamed memes #my gifs

875 notes · View notes

brownandblackpearls · 4 years ago

Text

📜 🖋 𝒞ourting with 𝒟r. 𝒟evorak (Julian x BlackReader) Pt.3

PART 3 SUMMARY:

You are a reputable, young beauty of means in Vesuvia, enjoying the winter courting season. An odd letter from an odd doctor finds its way to your door. You are on the second segment of your first date, attending a play in Vesuvia.

─── Julian x black female reader

─── imagery + fiction

─── explicit smut

─── regency/historical/fantasy, courtship rituals, wealthy! MC, love letters, drama, handsome redheads

☾ previous. next.

.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:・゜゜・．✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *

The obsidian carriage was a comfortable reprieve from the glare of the chilled sun rays. Drifts of snow were all too happy to try and reflect the light into your eyes, but the dark, shrouded curtains of the doctor’s vehicle saved you from the visual spotlights.

Swept in by your courter, you sit and watch Julian seat himself before his man yips the horses and pulls you all off, down the snowswept cobblestones.

You watch Julian watching you, thinking quietly to yourself about the events that have happened thus far, and letting the moment of silence cover you both. Sometimes, silence was just as good as words. What kind of man was Julian, in silence?

Shy, it seemed. He tries to pretend to glance out the window before being reeled back into your gaze, and finally, staying there. Shoulders stiff, you could almost feel the thoughts running through his mind.

You graced him a gentle smile, an offering.

Julian is more than eager to return it, nervousness be damned.

You were beginning to understand a little better why you felt so fond of him so fast, you realized. He was so…eager. Open. Even with all the little charades of character he pulled from time to time, they were more entertaining than anything. It did not come off as malevolent or manipulative. It was more experimental than anything. As anxious as your presence seemed to make him, Julian seemed comfortable enough in himself to try different things, different ways of being.

It didn’t hurt that he was very easy to read, and he read a tale of a soft heart on his sleeve.

You were very good at keeping yours under your sleeves, and something told you that Julian—as well as many others—liked the challenge enough to rise to it.

“You’re enjoying yourself,” Julian says rather than asks, hope tingeing his tone.

“I am,” you confirm easily, showing your cards.

Pleased, his chest almost seemed to puff up in pride. You realize that Julian wants this courtship to be not just enjoyable, but memorable. Memorable enough for you to call upon him once more, memorable enough for you to savor spending time with him, to become hooked to it, and in turn, to him.

“What play shall we be seeing...?” You wonder aloud, tiring of your mental courting maps.

“It is a new showing,” Julian answers brightly, “’To Rake a Shrew’. One of my old friends behind-the-scenes, he explained some of the outline. It sounds delightfully dramatic.”

Your eyes widen.

You’ve always enjoyed a good, romantic drama.

“Do tell.”

Julian leans forward, looking every bit the cat that caught the canary and intended on sharing its prize. His large frame and sweeping height becomes much more apparent in the tiny space as he forgets himself and his nerves, confidence gleaming through his silver gaze as he speaks excitedly on the play.

He’s such a large man…yet graceful when he desires it…like reedgrass curtsying in the wind on a breezy, summer’s day. The whole of him is enough to cover you entirely. He’s visibly strong, you realize as your eyes rake over him. Yet he moves with such gentleness, especially when it concerns you. A helping hand, an assisting palm to elbow, a touch’s kiss above the lower back. You can feel the ability course through him, yet he remains composed and contained, as a proper doctor would.

Under the doctor however, there is yet a man.

With him this near, your senses flare.

His cologne is somewhat sharp, if not heady. All of him sticks out, dark, dashing, and enough to do whatever he’d like with you…to please…to pursue...to protect…

You suppress a shiver, taking in the sight of him. You’re not new at this particular game of attraction, but you’re still made of flesh and blood, and behave so. You swallow slightly, ignoring the way your heart picks up speed.

“…?” You suddenly realize Julian has called your name, and you’ve yet to answer.

“Forgive me,” you apologize. “I was caught in a thought! Please, tell me once more. I shall not wander again.”

Julian tilts his head curiously before smiling.

“It’s quite alright. I can be a bore, I’ve been told! What thought draws you away from me?”

‘You, actually.’

“Nothing of imminent concern, I assure you. I’d much rather hear you tell me of your friend and this play.”

Julian pauses before nodding, dropping the matter easily.

“Well, ‘To Rake a Shrew’ is about a Casanova descending upon a bustling town to find more conquests in love. He is a slave to beauty, but unfortunately for him, the most sought-after beauty in the town is a shrew unlike any other. She will bend to no one, especially not clownish, predictable seducers such as him. He changes his tactics to try and best her at his own game, however she wins in the end and dupes him while entertaining the love of another. And so...he attempts to seduce them both! The outcome of that mess is yet to be determined.”

You clap, terribly excited now. You love interesting plots and twisted triangles of romance, tripe and as common as they may be.

“Ooh, how devilish!”

“Indeed,” Julian agrees. “Do you think he’ll succeed in the end?”

“Well,” you suppose, “I’d have to see this Casanova. I want to know if his wooing is actually something of interest, or if he is simply full of his own air. Seducing two lovers at once? The gall! The work!”

Julian chuckles.

“Some could manage, I’d assume.”

“Oh?” You wonder. “Like who? You know people who could draw even those already entangled, in? That’s quite a feat.”

Surely he didn’t mean himself...? Julian seemed the shy sort, but was it all really an act? Could he be a playboy? He was certainly handsome enough to pull it off...perhaps you'd gotten ahead of yourself thinking that he was easy to read? It hadn't even been a day.

Julian pins a heavy gaze on you before flicking his eyes down to his hands casually, adjusting the hem of his glove. The leather creaks in a wonderful, quiet way over his regal fingers.

“I think perhaps, I know a few who could make that Casanova look like child’s play.”

‘Oh…’

“A few, you say?”

“Perhaps less than that, even.”

“...One?”

“Would it please you to hear so?” Julian teases lightly, a low heat simmering underneath it all.

“Only if it pleases you, to please me,” you test, returning the flame. “So it is one.”

“Perhaps.”

“Hm…an allure like no other is on the loose in our city…Dr. Devorak, should Vesuvia be afraid?” You jest, playing along with him.

Julian’s fingers halt at the sound of his title in your mouth. He levels another look at you, a smirk drawing up his face.

“Vesuvia will last. I, on the other hand…”

The carriage door sounds out a rapping of knuckles. Neither of you look away from one another. The challenge you both find there is too sweet.

“Sir Devorak, Lady _______, we have arrived at the Theater!”

You finally decide to turn away from your suitor then, the heat of Julian’s interest surprising you a little into your own nerves.

You like what you see there, you had simply…not expected to see it so soon in such a...heated manner...? Where did his nerves go?

‘So much for shy!’

The carriage door opens and Julian steps out first before clearing the snow with one big sweep of his boot, and lifts out a gloved hand to assist you. You gently take it, allowing him to ease you down onto the stones of the street. Though the sun is high in the sky now, the chill of winter has crept further into the air.

You do your best to suppress a shiver, but the concerned look on Julian’s face tells you that you’ve been caught.

“Allow me?” He asks, offering his arm for you.

“Naturally,” you consent, taking his arm in a deeper hold and stepping close to leech the warmth from him. Julian, though blushing now, seems all too pleased to have you nearer than propriety allowed, excluding chilly winter walks of course. No suitor would let the one they were courting be left out to the elements, unguarded! That was a quick recipe to losing out.

Julian leads you both away from the carriage, past the doorman, the playbill boys, the ushers, and down to the head seater.

“Tickets?” The staff member crows.

“We’ve our own box in the center section,” Julian says, his voice clear and assured.

You quietly watch as he easily discusses your seating with the somewhat confused staff member before watching as the worker realizes his grave error and bows, showing you both your way to your accommodations.

“Right here sir, madam! Watch your step! Ring the bell if you need anything—!“

A sudden noise makes all of you turn to the entrance to the private box, curtains now swishing aside as an angry, bustling man launches towards the staff member.

“This is my box!” The man bellows, puff sleeves flying. “I am gravely insulted. How do they train you louts these days? Even in Vesuvia’s worse I’ve never seen such a display of disrespect. I’ll be seeing your manager about this, most certainly.”

The man advances but Julian moves before anyone else really can, cutting the stranger off at the throat of the box’s entrance and herding him back with his own immense volume and size.

“Surely we can settle this like gentlemen,” Julian says in a soothing way, with a tone that is anything but.

“I beg your pardon? The only way this will ‘settle’ is if you all escort yourselves out of my box—“

The man tries to sidestep Julian, but finds himself blocked with every motion he makes. Julian is large, imposing, and will not let him pass.

Julian leans in then, his voice murmuring so low and so subdued that you can make no sense of it outside of the rumbling vibrations that do reach you. The staff member looks just as confused and out of the loop as you feel, but the man before Julian seems to understand with crystal clarity as trepidation colors his face. It soon melds into fear, to a quick, prideful facade.

The stranger takes a step back, scoffing loudly before exiting the box in a flurry of curtains and stomping boots.

Julian turns back to you both, a strained, yet somewhat humored look on his face.

“Well! That’s taken care of. Dizzy man, that one. Must’ve lost his way.”

“Ah,” you note, unsure of how to respond.

You were...admittedly nervous when that hostile, aggressive stranger entered the box so suddenly. It felt as if a fight had been imminent with a temper like that. And yet…

…Julian effectively diffused the situation. You’re fairly sure he used his own version of hostility, but he was conscious and chose to hide that side of him from your sight. You’re not sure why, aside from manners. A show of protectiveness does very little to wane your ever increasing interest in him.

Quite the opposite.

Maybe the Doctor is not as harmless or bumbling as he portrays himself to be...?

“Are you alright?” Julian asks you. “Is this box fine, or would you prefer another? That man will not be returning, but if you’re not comfortable, I will ensure that—“

“This is fine,” you insist gently. “As long as you’re here, I have no need to worry.”

When the initial surprise in your full trust finally fades from his eyes, Julian gives you the warmest of smiles.

“I—well, I—yes!”

The usher sneaks out as you and Julian lock gazes. The lights begin to dim in the theater. The crowd rumbles below in the pit, up in the stands, and from the teetering little boxes on all ends.

The show is about to begin.

“This way,” Julian says, offering his hand.

Julian helps guide you to your seat before securing the privacy of your box and seating himself beside you. For a moment, he is a flurry of cape and leather and boot before settling in to the cushy theater couch. His long legs jut out and he folds them, eyes on the stage, excitement in them.

You can’t help but follow suit, your eyes trailing the orchestra down below as they prepare to play alongside the show and its actors.

Suddenly, you feel eyes on you.

You take it in stride, keeping your gaze focused, but you know that Julian is peering at you. The dimmed lights have certainly sparked a more romantic mood than even the lit, dazzling, gilded chandeliers of the theater could evoke. There, in the cover of shadow and stage light, you feel yourself becoming the center of his particular show.

“You could have a portrait commissioned,” you joke lightly. “That would last you far longer, Doctor.”

A smooth chuckle resounds from your side before the words.

“If you’d allow it, I’d be honored.”

Now, it is your turn to look at him.

“You jest, sir.”

“I do not.”

You feel a smile break onto your face, before you turn once again towards the stage, biting your lip in amusement. The heavy, red stage curtains part before you can speak.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of Vesuvia! Welcome to the grand debut of To Rake a Shrew…!”

.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:・゜゜・．✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *

AN: Do not copy, repost, translate, or edit any of my work. If you see someone do so, please let me know.

☾ previous. next.

☾ check my blog for more imagines.

68 notes · View notes

mysoftboybensolo · 3 years ago

Text

The Alienist and the Soprano

Chapter 8: The Confusion

A/N: This was inspired by Laszlo’s love of opera and my thought on what if he fell for an opera singer. Multi chapter. Canon divergence, there is no Mary Palmer here (I loved Mary and Laszlo, so I don’t feel like I could have her here and have him be with another woman). A mix of show and book canons. No Y/N, OC named Evelina Lind.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029150

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem OC!

Summary: The last thing Laszlo Kreizler ever expected while investigating the death of children was to fall in love, and with an opera singer no less!

Warnings: Age gap, angst, kidnapping.

The next few days was one of the most tense anyone in the group had ever had. Unlike their other cases, the person they were on the look out for hadn’t done anything note worthy to the police and therefore not worthy of police involvement. So, it was left up to the team to handle this themselves. It was Laszlo who came up with the plan, each of them would take turns going to the opera with Evelina was a guard, and Sara would protect her from the safety of her home. It was agreed upon, particularly at the insistence of Evelina, that no one at the opera would know, as it was seen to be for the best, for if they knew, it could arouse suspicion and possibly frighten Winston away.

The first day Lucius and Marcus watched over her, and though they would have done whatever was needed to be done to help, they were glad that they were replaced by John. Out of the three men, John was the more intimidating one, and if any scuffle were to happen, he’d be the better fighter. It escaped no one’s eyes when they noticed John at the opera, and the rumors slowly grew of his reasons why.

These rumors had yet to reach the ears of the doctor, who during the day kept an eye on both his children and Evelina, then in the evening visiting her and Sara, checking in for any signs of disturbance. Sara got to see firsthand the kind of meetings that Evelina and Laszlo have had when she’d go to his office, and she began to wonder. Is it possible that a soprano and an alienist would be a love match? It seemed silly at first, but she couldn’t help but to wonder.

After four days of no sign of Winston, John and Laszlo wondered about what to do, and Laszlo decided that he would talk once again to Roosevelt and if he couldn’t move him, then he himself will go to the opera with Evelina and see if it will lure Winston out. Somehow, Evelina found out and after the rehearsal the next day, Evelina hurried to John and asked, “John, is it true that Laszlo is going to watch over me tomorrow?”

“Well, yes.”

“Why?”

He looked at her confused, “To watch over you.”

“No, I mean…John, please convince him not to. I am sure that Winston is very jealous of him, and I fear that if he sees Laszlo with me, something dreadful will happen.”

“But perhaps it will do us good. If Laszlo is what triggers him, then it will mean an end to this.”

“Not at the risk of Laszlo’s life. Oh, please,” she asked, her hands gripping his jacket desperately, “Convince him not to!”

He looked down at her amazed. “If it really means that much to you.”

She released her hands from his jacket, looked away and blushed. “I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me.”

He nods, then says, “Listen, why don’t we get a little lunch? I think it’ll do us both some good.”

He takes her to a small café where they enjoy a cup of tea and cakes and begin to relax a bit. “Oh, I think that was terribly romantic, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” she says, after he tells the story of how he tried to woo a girl from his college years.

John chuckled, then said, “Laszlo calls me a hopeless romantic, sometimes as if it is a hopeless flaw.”

“Then it is a flaw we share.”

“Funny, we both…” John stopped short, a quick glance of fear of revealing too much, then distracted himself with a sip of his tea.

Evelina smirked and finished his thought. “Two romantics, in love with cynical people.”

John looked at her and a wash of relief overcame him. At last, someone he could speak of his feelings on the subject to. “How could you tell?”

“You’ve hidden it quite well, but I’ve seen it in your eyes, they just glow when she comes into view, or even the mere mention of her name, you light up.” She bit her lip, then asked, “How could you tell with me?”

“Oh, at first, I hadn’t been sure, but then when I saw that you hadn’t run off after his probing, I only thought of two things, either you are a mad woman, or a woman in love.” They chuckled, then John, very seriously asked, “Do you think that there is any hope for me? I mean, is there in any way, I might be able to win her over? She never seems interested, and yet she is.”

She takes a moment to consider her words, then she speaks. “I think perhaps Sara is worried what it will mean. To her, love and independence cannot mix. It must be one or the other, but she doesn’t realize that she can have both. If the man loves her enough to understand her need of freedom, he will earn her eternal love, and I think you could be that man.”

“And I think you could very well be the woman to bring happiness to Laszlo. If he allows himself to have it.”

She couldn’t help but to smile at the thought. Yes, John thinks she could make Laszlo happy, but he did not confirm whether Laszlo felt the same. But nevertheless, it gave her some courage and thought she might do something about it.

Sara and Laszlo walked around the park, hoping to catch a glimpse of this man. Evelina gave a detailed account of her brother; age 27, tall and slender, dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, sharp features, and full mouth. The most distinct feature, she said, was faint scars down the left side of his face from where she scratched at him when fending him off. They walked around the city every day and didn’t seem to be any closer.

“He is around here, I know it,” Sara said, “He would never be too far from where she could be.”

“Yes,” Laszlo agreed, “The predator never loses sight of his prey.”

“I better return home; Evelina said her rehearsal is half today and I should be there to meet her. What time is it?”

Laszlo reached for his pocket watch, but out fluttered was a handkerchief and he quickly snatched it back, as if hoping it would not be seen. But Sara saw and her mouth fell open at the sight. It was a white handkerchief with lace edging and embroidered blue bird. That was where it went, and Sara had read plenty of stories to know that such a gesture was always fueled by romantic feelings. Laszlo was in love with Evelina. Of course, it makes so much more sense now. Of all the times he spoke of Evelina, how awkward and unsure he was around her, which he never was around anyone else, for he was perhaps one of the most confident insecure men she ever knew. And yet, around Evelina, Sara could see his wall slightly lowered for her, which he never did unless someone took whacks at it at first.

“I um,” Laszlo stumbled with his words, “I have to go, meeting Roosevelt now. Goodbye.” He hurried off, avoiding any words with Sara. He heard his heart pounding in his ears knowing that Sara will put the pieces together. To help distract him, Laszlo hurried to his meeting, hoping to convince Roosevelt to help in their case. Theodore Roosevelt is a good man, but he is also a practical man. “My friend, there is barely any proof that this man is after her, or rather that there is any man after her. Any one from her building could have taken her knickers, it may not even be her brother. With her profession, it is not hard to see her dealing with this kind of thing. And if I were to assign an officer to every woman who has been accosted by a man, I’d have not only no men left, but I’d have to hire more!”

“But regardless, whether it is her brother, suitor or some pervert off the street, she should not be intimidated by anyone and feel frightful of stepping out of her door. Please Theodore, I am just asking for some protection for her.”

He thinks about it, but he shakes his head. “I am sorry. Give me some concrete proof and then I’ll see about assigning someone. I appreciate that you are doing this as a favor to John, but even he must know my limits.”

Laszlo looked at him confused. “John?”

“Yes. I mean after all, for all the times they spent together, it’s clear he has an interest in her. And I must say, what a handsome couple they make,.”

Laszlo stared at him, feeling a twinge of pain in his chest, and gulped. “Do they?”

“Of course! You can tell she clearly favors him above all others. Why, as I was heading over here, I saw them at a café, and you should have seen how they were laughing and going on. It does make sense, when you think of it; both are artists, he with a pen and she with her voice. It is a good match, I think, and he better make the proposal soon if he doesn’t want to lose her.” A knock at the door interrupted them, and Theodore sighed. “Well, I better be going. Good day, Laszlo.”

Laszlo barely acknowledged Theodore as he became lost in his thoughts and insecurity. Walking back at the institute in a daze as he thought over everything. He had been terribly mistaken, as it seemed to be his curse, in matters of the heart. He had felt certain that her frequent visits were because of growing feelings, but it had to have been because she wanted to be kind to the old man who saved her from abuse. Yes, that had to be it. And he was the fool to allow his heart to be taken by someone too good for him. This heartbreak was awful, and once in the safety of his office, he grabbed a pillow and screamed a painful aching sound into it.

Sara worked at her typewriter, working on the paperwork of this case, when she felt a presence. Turning in her chair, she sighed as she saw Evelina sitting on the couch, a pensive look on her face, as if it was a matter of life and death. “I didn’t hear you come back.”

Evelina jumped at the sound of Sara’s voice, but relaxed and offered a small smile. “I only just came in.” She bit her lip, then asked, “Sara, may I ask you a question?” She patted the spot next to her, allowing Sara to sit beside her. “Have you ever been in love? I mean, really and truly in love?”

Sara was stumped by the question. Unsure of how to answer that question. “I-what do you mean?”

A slight smiled appeared on her lips as she continued. “I only ask because, well, because I need some advice. I am in love. You see, at first, I thought it was just a little infatuation, that perhaps because he rescue me, I had developed feelings that weren’t really there. Then as I got to know him better, I found that he is brilliant, brave and good. Oh, I know he isn’t perfect, he has his faults and everyone knows it, but deep down, he is a fine man, one of the finest men I have ever known. He cares a lot more than he lets on and I know it comes from a place of hurt so that is why he shields his heart. But it didn’t stop me from loving him. I know I do. What would you do, Sara? What would you do if you were me?”

Hearing her words, Sara felt convinced of who she spoke of, and pushed down her own feelings of disappointment and pain. Then her thoughts shifted to Laszlo. Poor Laszlo. He no doubt will be crushed to find out her true feelings, but like the gentleman he can be, he’d never say anything if it means another’s happiness. “If you truly love this man, you must tell him. And I am sure that John will be happy to hear of your feelings.”

Evelina looked at her puzzled then shook her head. “Sara, I am not speaking of John. Oh, do not get me wrong, he is a fine man and a good friend, but how could I even think to have feelings for him when it is clear he adores you and you him?”

Sara shook her head. “Um, that is not, we are not…No.”

Evelina chuckled and gave her a look. “Keep telling yourself that, Sara.”

Sara then gave a puzzled look and said, “Forgive me, but if it is not John, then-” she stopped herself and remembered who else was there to save her that night. “Laszlo. You love Laszlo!”

Evelina nodded. “I know that to many it is a peculiar match, but they don’t know him as I do. He is brash, closed off, and such a dear!” She says the last words with such adoration.

Sara tried to bite back a smile, but she couldn’t help it. “Has Laszlo ever said anything to you?”

“No. I think perhaps he sees me only as a friend, but I swear, I’d see him looking at me in a certain way, says a word, or perhaps touch me in a way that makes me wonder if he feels the same as I do. But I think it’s only my vain desire for him to reciprocate.”

Taking her hands, Sara smiled and with confidence said, “Evelina, I can safely assure you, you are not wrong. Laszlo does feel the same, I know he does.”

“Has he said so?”

“Not in the exact words, but everything else he does and says have told all I could ever know. Whenever someone mentions you, his eyes just have a certain glow in them, and I’ve never seen him be so at peace with himself and the world until you came.”

Evelina’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Really. And I think you should tell him now. If I were you, I wouldn’t waste another second and let it all out. And I guarantee you, he will do the same.” Sara ran a friendly finger down Evelina’s face and smiled. “You two will be very happy, I know it.”

Sara walked Evelina out and hailed a carriage, watching her get in and instructed the driver to stay until Evelina returns back to the house. Evelina popped her head out of the window, took Sara’s hand and smile. “Would you like to know something Sara? When you said about his eyes having that glow? I noticed the same in John’s eyes when he sees you. Just thought you’d like to know.” And with that, the carriage raced off to the institute.

He had not expected to see her, for the plan was for her to go from the opera house back to Sara’s and if she were to ever go out, it would be accompanied by another. And yet, here she was, standing in his office, looking radiant, excited, and happy. She looked so happy, why wouldn’t she? She just spent the afternoon with John Moore, handsome, charming, able bodied John Moore. What more could a woman want? And he felt his heart crack at the thought, and he silently began to berate himself for daring to hope that he could be loved, for once in his life, to have someone love him back. Such a foolish hope, really, a waste of a dream.

“I presume you had a pleasant day with John.”

“Yes. Today has been enlightening, to say the least.”

“Yes, I am sure.” He fiddled with his bad hand, then suddenly became insecure and covered it with his good left one. “Evelina, I feel that as we have gotten close in a few short months, I feel safe in saying this.” She looked at him with such tenderness and joy that it sent a quiver through his heart and he thought he couldn’t go through with it. “John is a good man, can even be a great man with the right kind of woman beside him. He has some rather unfavorable habits, the brothels, the drinking, and gambling, but he would gladly give it all up. For you.”

He did not notice her hopeful expression turn to confusion, then hurt. Why was he saying all this? Was Sara wrong in her assumption?

“I think it would be a rather nice match, truly. And I can only see a promising and bright future for you both.” The next words he had to turn away, for this was the hardest part. “And I am sure that with everything in your life, you’ll not be able to see me as much. Oh, we will see each other at parties and at the opera, but I think that it would be best that you do not come to see me as much as you did. Certain professions leave rather damaging marks on those through association and it would be best that before any damage is done, that we agree that we should not see much of the other in the capacity such as this.”

Evelina stood, blinking to hold back the tears. “I see. Well, thank you, doctor, I shall take your advice. And you needn’t worry anymore of seeing me. In fact, I may even let you know when I shall be performing, so you need not bother coming. Good day.” She hurried out before he could say anything and once out of the house, she began to cry. She cried through the carriage ride back to Sara’s house and then ran in and up the stairs, sobbing terribly.

“Evelina?” Sara and Tessie looked at each other and hurried up the stairs, finding Evelina across the bed, sobbing into a pillow. “Evelina, dear. What happened?”

“He doesn’t feel the same! You were wrong, Sara. He doesn’t feel the same at all!”

“But what did he say? Evelina?” She continued to sob, and Sara turned to the maid and asked her to make a strong cup of coffee. As she waited, Sara continued to try and soothe her friend and figure out what happened. She tried to encourage Evelina to drink, but she nearly destroyed the cup when she pushed it away. “Evelina, please, tell me what happened.”

Evelina looked up and managed to say through the tears, “I went to tell him what I felt, but all he did was go on about how John and I would be a good couple and tried to warn me of his bad habits. Then,” fresh tears appeared but Sara continued to rub circles on her back, trying to calm her, “He said that we should not see each other anymore. He said that certain professions can be damaging to others.” She threw her fist down on the bed in hurtful anger, “He was talking about me! My profession as a singer is damaging to him! I bring shame to him but won’t even say the words! He couldn’t even look at me when he said it! He doesn’t feel the same, if anything, I think he hates me! Oh, God, how can I bear it?”

Sara looked down in shock. No, she was certain that Laszlo felt the same, Evelina’s handkerchief was the definite proof. Why would Laszlo say such things to her? “Evelina, I know I am not wrong and I shall get to the bottom of this.” Removing herself from the bed, she turned to Tessie and said, “Stay with her and try to calm her down. I’ll be right back.”

“What shall you do, Miss?” Tessie asked after her.

“I am going to knock some sense into that man, even if it means I must do so literally.” And down the stairs she went in a flash.

Laszlo had been holding this book for ten minutes, staring at its pages. His eyes looked over the words, but his mind couldn’t register their meaning. He replayed the interaction, trying to find the mistake. Perhaps it was the truth that made it difficult for her to accept, or perhaps it was how he said the words, but he couldn’t quite understand why she made that comment of warning him ahead of time when she would perform. She never struck him to be a volatile person, so if she was angry, she could have said so.

A powerful bang resonated in the room, making Laszlo jump and look up. It was Sara, the door swinging back from the force she gave it, her face a calm fury.

“Sara, what is the matter?” He got up, setting the book aside, and moved closer, “Are you hurt?”

“I am not here for myself but for another. Someone who is hurt and therefore I share her pain.”

Laszlo removed his glasses. “I am afraid I do not follow.”

“What happened just now with Evelina?”

“Um, I tried my best to encourage her pursuit of John, but I supposed I over shared of his past as she was solemn as she left.”

Sara shook her head. “Oh, men! How on earth did we ever allow you lot run the world? You hurt her terribly! The poor girl has been a sobbing wreck. I only managed to get her to calm down enough to tell me what happened. And even when I left, she was still a mess.”

The thought of her being hurt because of his carless words broke him and he cursed himself for his bluntness. “My intentions were never meant to hurt, but to encourage and to warn. I would never dream to hurt Evelina, it pains me now to think my words made her even shed a single tear.”

Sara took a deep breathe, as if to try and calm her fury, then spoke. “Laszlo, do you know why she came to see you?”

“Because of John.”

“Because of you! If you weren’t so filled with self-loathing and pigheadedness, you would have realized that she is in love with you!”

Laszlo wasn’t sure if what he heard was correct, he couldn’t be. Evelina in love with him? “What would make you say such a thing?”

“Because she told me so herself. When she did, I encouraged her to tell you, as I know you love her. No, don’t deny it,” she quickly cut him off, “I’ve seen it in your eyes, in your voice and manners, and if that wasn’t enough, I saw that you carry her handkerchief over your heart.” Laszlo’s hand instinctively reached up to the spot where he had safely tucked the material, and he felt his face grow warm at being caught. “Admit it, you love her.”

“Yes,” he softly admitted.

“Deeply.”

“More.”

“Then I beg you, come with me and let us clear this all up.”

“No. Even if what you say is true, she deserves someone better than me. She’s young, beautiful and entire life ahead of her. I’d only weigh her down.”

“Laszlo, do you realize that you are about to give up a chance to find happiness? Here is someone who loves and adores you and yet you refuse to believe it. Even if you refuse to think of yourself, think of her! She thinks you not only do not love her, but that you don’t want to be associated with her anymore due to her being in the opera. She thinks you outright despise her and that she brought shame to you by mere association.”

Laszlo was mortified beyond belief. So that was why she made that comment and stormed out of here. His words were never to imply she brought shame to him, but rather the other way around, that he would bring shame to her. “Yes, I must fix this.” He slipped his jacket on and followed Sara out the door, thinking only of Evelina. He tried to rehearse what he’d say to her, the proper words to correct his mistake. He just hoped that he was not too late.

When they arrived, Sara climbed out then froze. Laszlo looked out and was going to question Sara’s hesitation, but noticed that her door was ajar. Pulling out her pistol, Sara and Laszlo carefully entered the house, looking around. In the den, Sara noticed Tessie laid across the floor. Laszlo went to her and took her pulse. “It’s alright. She’s unconscious.”

“Evelina was in her room last I saw her.”

Laszlo felt a surge of panic as he ran up the stairs, skipping a few steps, and barged into the room. “Evelina? Evelina!” The room was empty, but there clearly was a fight as the sheets were pulled off the bed, a vase was shattered and scratch marks on the doorframe.

“Laszlo!” He hurried down the stairs, hoping that Sara had found her, but instead, he saw her holding up a note. “It’s addressed to you.”

Curious, he took the letter and nearly torn it in half opening it. He recognized the handwriting, the same that smashed through his window.

Dear Dr. Kreizler,

Though we have never met, you and I have a score to settle. You see, we both have something in common and that tie is Miss Evelina Lind. I urge you to meet me in the cellars of the opera house, in the prop rooms. I expect you alone, for this is a party of three and it would be dreadfully rude to invite others.

Sincerely,

Miss Lind and I shall be waiting eagerly of your arrival.

Winston Lind.

Laszlo felt his blood run cold. He has her. And it was his fault.

Tagging: @monsieurbruhl @flutterskies @sokoviandelights, @cazzyimagines, @rumblelibrary, @fictionlandslanddreams, @violetmuses and @barnesxnobles. If anyone else would like to be tagged, please let me know!

#daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #the alienist #laszlo kreizler #fanfiction

34 notes · View notes

dothwrites · 4 years ago

Note

97, maybe? For the prompts? :)

---

#97--When you smile, I fall apart

---

Dean watches silently as Cas rolls yet another t-shirt before putting it into his suitcase. Neither of them have spoken in what feels like days but has only been several hours. Their silence isn’t angry, nor is it comfortable. Dean doesn’t bother to pretend like he isn’t watching Cas’ every move as he carefully removes every part of himself from their dorm room.

His posters have already been taken down and rolled carefully. Cas told Dean he could sell them or throw them away, and Dean had nodded like he was agreeing, but Cas’ posters are currently taking up some prime real estate in the back of his closet, where they’ll stay for damn near forever. Cas’ pens, pencils, and other various supplies are carefully hidden in his desk, while his furniture sits, forlorn, on his side of the room. His mattress is stripped bare. The only thing which remains is for Cas to empty his drawers, which is a task becoming shorter with each shirt that disappears into his suitcase.

With a sensation like feeling his chest rip in half, Dean watches Cas examine each drawer. He closes them with a sense of finality before he turns to his suitcase. Tight lines of tension hold his shoulders in a defensive posture as he zips the case closed. Afterward, he continues facing away from Dean, his gaze fixed on the blank wall. His fingers curl into the stiff fabric of his suitcase, but he doesn’t speak.

That task falls to Dean.

“So, I guess this is it, huh?” Dean’s voice is too loud even to his ears, harsh and discordant in the silence of the room. “E.T. goes home.”

“Not particularly,” Cas answers. He keeps his face turned away, giving no indication to his mood. “It’s not home. Not really.”

“It’s not stopping you from going back.” Dean knows his voice is surly and hurt, but he can’t stop himself. Maybe if he hadn’t held all of this in, Cas wouldn’t be leaving.

“We’ve talked about this. I have to.”

Dean clenches his jaw and says nothing. All of his arguments--Your parents never cared about you, what difference does it make whether you go home or not, you shouldn’t throw away your future for people who don’t give a shit about you--have already fallen on deaf ears.

What tortures him are the unspoken arguments, the ones that have never been spoken aloud except to an empty room.

Please don’t leave me.

I love you.

Dean bites his lower lip to keep those words stoppered within him. He won’t say it, not now. Those words are like blackmail. If he said then, then he’d be no better than Cas’ shitty family, using ties of loyalty and obligation to force him into a decision. If Cas doesn’t decide to stay on his own merits, then Dean doesn’t want it at all. And Cas hasn’t decided to stay.

Three years, two of them as unlikely roommates, countless all-nighters and drunken binges, several extremely dicey situations, some of which made Dean think that maybe his interest in Castiel wasn’t as unrequited as he originally thought, and it all ends here. On an unremarkable Wednesday afternoon, with Cas’ bags packed and them waiting for the Uber that will take Cas away to the airport and out of Dean’s life.

“It’s not forever,” Cas finally says. “I’ll be back.”

“To visit,” Dean says, unwilling to be bought with pretty lies.

“To stay,” Cas insists. Dean wishes he would turn around. Cas is a difficult guy to read on the best of days, harder when all Dean has to go on is the shift of his shoulders.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

The second Cas got the call from his brother, Dean knew it was over. Cas’ father was dying and Cas’ presence was expected. He wouldn’t be able to finish the semester and would be forced to take an incomplete. His scholarships were in jeopardy, his re-admission status in peril. Cas had told him all of this and somehow managed to sound hopeful about this whole thing, but Dean had heard the unspoken truth underneath the words.

It was over. Cas wasn’t coming back.

“Dean.”

Dean looks up and meets brilliant blue eyes. Now, as always, he’s taken aback by their hue and the emotion which shines out of them. For all the times he’s accused Cas of being a robot, when you get down to it, Cas doesn’t have a damn poker face. He can keep his expression as stoic as he wants, but those baby blues betray him every single time. Right now, his eyes are welling over with an overabundance of emotion.

Dean’s breath catches in his throat with a painful hitch. He can’t do this right now. Not when his heart is ripping in two and Cas is standing less than an inch away from him. “Cas,” he says, trying for jovial and failing miserably, “your Uber is gonna be here soon, man.”

“That’s why I have to do this now.”

Dean opens his mouth and closes it, like a particularly stupid goldfish. For all of his reticence and silence, Cas has a habit of dropping hard truths right out of the blue, like the time they were in sophomore year and a little bit drunk and Cas grabbed his shoulder and stared him down with all the intensity of a slightly tipsy robot. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” Cas had said, his normally rough voice gone subsonic. “We share a profound bond,” he continued, over Dean’s protests.

So Dean’s a little leery now that Cas is looking at him like he hears the ticking clock and that he realizes this is very much a go big or go home moment.

“I know that you don’t believe me, but I will be back.” Dean opens his mouth to argue, but Cas steamrollers directly over his objections by cupping Dean’s cheek. His hands are huge against Dean’s face, sturdy and warm. They’re hands Dean could trust, hands Dean wants to catch him every time he stumbles.

“This isn’t what I want. Dean, I know...” Cas falters, his thumb rubbing at the soft skin underneath Dean’s eye. “I know it’s a shitty time to do it, and I would understand if you tell me to leave and don’t want to talk to me anymore, but I...”

Dean can’t ever recall a time when Castiel had to grope for words. It’s happened twice in the past thirty seconds. Then Cas looks at him, his eyes like blue steel, and Dean gets ready for some hard truths to be dropped on him like an anvil on Wil. E. Coyote.

“You are the best person I’ve ever met. Everything about you--your kindness, your humor, your generosity--Dean, you’re my best friend.”

Dean’s heart sinks at that, but apparently Cas isn’t done dropping anvils. “And it’s stupid to want anything more, but I do, Dean. Dean, I want...”

Three times now that he’s rendered Cas speechless, but Cas has never been one to lose gracefully. Cas renders him speechless, thoughtless, weightless, and dozens of other ‘lesses’ as he leans forward and presses his lips gently to Dean’s.

It isn’t until Cas starts to pull away that Dean regains any semblance of rational thought. The thought of Cas leaving him is incomprehensible, unthinkable. Dean curls his fingers in Cas’ shirt and pulls him closer.

Cas’ lips are just as stupidly chapped and rough as he thought they would be, but he never could have imagined how soft they would feel underneath his. Even in his wildest fantasies, he never could have conjured up the rough, needy sound rumbling up from Cas’ throat as Dean licks across the seam of his lips. Cas opens his mouth and deepens their kiss, his fingers pushing into Dean’s hair as he pulls them closer.

“Oh, Dean,” Cas whispers. He doesn’t move from where he’s perched atop Dean, his forehead pressing into Dean’s. “I’m so sorry it took me this long to pull my head out of my ass. If I’d been thinking correctly, I would have told you how I felt years ago.” He tilts his head to kiss Dean’s cheek.

Dean’s heart cracks.

“You stupid idiot,” Dean says, before he takes Cas’ lips in an almost brutal kiss. “You could get so much better than me.”

“Impossible,” Cas tells him. “I could never want anyone else other than you.” He places a soft kiss at the corner of Dean’s lips. “Every time you smile, I fall apart.”

Dean lunges forward, wrapping Cas in a tight embrace. He wants to pull Cas into him, wants to wrap himself around Cas in such irreparable ways that Cas will never be able to scrub himself clean of Dean’s influence.

Dean’s arms wrap around Cas’ shoulders, as he grabs at the short hair at the back of Cas’ head. He licks into Cas’ mouth, determined to get to the root of him. He’s just pushing forward, Cas softening to accept him, when Cas’ phone rings.

It’s like someone dumped a bucket of cold water over his head. Dean pulls back, staring in muted horror at Castiel’s pocket.

His phone is ringing. Cas’ Uber is here.

“Cas,” Dean says helplessly, pulling Cas towards him. Their kiss is messy and desperate, teeth and tongues clashing as their fingers yank and tug. “Cas, don’t go, please don’t go--”

Cas’ hands frame Dean’s face, forcing Dean to look at him. “I’m coming back,” Cas promises. He grips Dean’s hair almost to the point of pain, but it keeps Dean’s mind from shattering. “Dean, you have to believe me. I’m coming back.”

He stares at Dean for one long, eternal moment, before he kisses him. Dean melts into Cas, clutching him so tightly that it’s a mystery as to how Cas winds up at the door, but he does. Dean leans towards him, feeling empty and cold.

Cas turns and looks at him. A dozen expressions cross his face as he allows his eyes to roam over Dean one last time. A thousand words swell in Dean’s chest--Don’t go, come back, don’t forget me, I love you, I love you, I LOVE YOU--

But then the door closes and Cas is gone.

Dean collapses back on Cas’ bed, its mattress scratchy and uncomfortable without a covering or sheets. He curls into himself, knees pressed to his chest, and settles in to wait.

---

Three months later, Dean is awoken by the sound of the door creaking. He groans and shoves his face deeper into his pillow. “Benny, if you need your shit, it can wait until tomorrow. For now, I am asleep.” He drags his comforter up over his shoulder to punctuate the statement.

He thinks that is the end of it. That should be the end of it. Benny, while occasionally wildly inappropriate, will usually fuck off when told to fuck off. However, his hypothesis is shattered when his bed dips at the middle with the weight of someone settling onto his mattress.

“Benny, what the fuck--” He rolls over, freezing when he sees the silhouette of the person sitting on his bed.

Benny doesn’t have that particular level of messy bedhead. Or those shoulders, tapering down into strong arms, almost delicate wrists, and elegant fingers. Benny certainly doesn’t have a thousand yard stare that manages to pierce through him even when the lights are off and the only available source of illumination are the faint lights from the sidewalk three floors below.

Dean chokes on nothing but air and scrambles to sit up. His heart is beating a million miles a minute as it tries to crawl through his chest and out of his mouth.

“Cas?” he finally chokes, clutching his comforter to his chest like a quivering Victorian heroine.

A flash of white, a grin in the darkness. A strong warm hand, a hand that Dean can trust to catch him and lead him through the world, rests on his bicep. Dean feels the heat of it through his t-shirt.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says.

#destiel #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #deancas #deancas fic #dean winchester #castiel #college!au #roommates #angst #happy ending #of course dean and cas facetime all the time that cas is gone #but cas wants to surprise dean so he doesn't tell him when he's coming back #cas ends up being a year behind which means dean graduates before him #dean gets an apartment while cas is finishing his last year #cas calls dean his sugar daddy #dean is simultaneously offended and aroused

332 notes · View notes

nepenthendline · 4 years ago

Text

Pulling Away - Tendou

This was a commission for @dont-mind-me-imjustpassingby with permission to post. I hope you enjoy it! My commissions are open if you would like one too! (3.1k words)

Since the start of high school, you’ve shared your classes with Tendou - someone you would call a good friend of yours. He was different from some of the other people you’ve met: unfiltered, honest, and so, so bright. You heard around the school of some of the opinions against him, ones you never thought to be true. How could someone so kind, so supporting be a monster?

He was intriguing and you couldn’t help but want to get to know him more, and he seemed to want that too. Your first experience with him was when the teacher asked you to speak to the person next to you about a passage in the class book, and you were fascinated by his thoughts and personality. Over the next few years, you got to work with him more and hang out from time-to-time. There was never a dull moment with him, whether you were out late getting ice cream together or laying on his floor, side by side, talking about your thoughts. You trusted him; you wanted to be a big part of his life, just like he was for you.

He had grown to have the same love for you. You were one of the first people who listened to him, who spent time with him and learned about his interests. You never seemed scared of him, or disgusted by the way he spoke or acted, or the way he looked, that he was so used to. You always gave him so much care and affection, hugging him or encouraging him during class or practice. Since he met you, he thought of you as the most caring, loving and accepting person he had ever met, and that’s exactly who you were – to everyone. He always thought of you as stray cat rescuer, saving people like him who no one else wanted to be around.

The two of you were waiting in the long queue at the school cafeteria since Tendou said he’d treat you to a snack. It was only halfway through the day, but you were exhausted already, just wanting to get some food in you.

“Why is this line so long?” you whined, dragging out your words and leaning your head on his shoulder. He chuckled, a wonderfully warm sound, and loosely wrapped his arm around your back.

“It’ll go down soon, and then you’ll appreciate your food even more,” he tried to comfort you, but you sent him a glare. You were about to speak when a group of your classmates approached you, asking you a question about your next class. You quickly straightened yourself up, pulling away from Tendou and letting his arm fall back by his side. One of the guys in your class talked about some of the analysis he did as part of his homework, and you stared with wide eyes, praising him for his impressive work. You were too focused on your friends to notice the way his smile faded, and how he pulled himself further away from you. You were always so kind to everyone, friends or not – he’s noticed this over the few years that he’s known you. You never held back from complimenting others or being a friend if they needed someone to speak to or if they were alone.

At the weekend, Tendou had invited you to go shopping with him since he wanted to get some more hoodies. Of course, you quickly accepted, wanting to spend more alone time with him. You trailed through a bunch of stores as he flicked through the racks, making comments about each garment that had you giggling. He picked up some options he liked and left to try them on. A few moments later, he stepped out of the changing room and gave you a twirl.

“Whaddya think?” He asked, looking at you with a nervous smile.

“You look so good! It compliments your hair nicely,” you state with enthusiasm, giving him a thumbs up. Honestly, he wasn’t expecting to hear that from you; his cheeks started burning a little and he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. ‘No, don’t get carried away,’ he thought, ‘she’s just being nice. She’s always nice. That’s just Y/N,’. It was hard enough to accept a compliment already, but it overwhelmed him a little at the possibility that people might be lying, people might just be being nice, and he’s not going to make a fool of himself on top of the comments he already gets.

He gives you a weak smile, and a ‘thanks’, before heading back into the changing room and putting on his regular clothes. As he came out, he saw you lift your head from your phone, your expression changing from a smile to confusion.

“Are you not trying on the others?” you asked, looking at the other 3 hoodies he brought in with him.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ve got plenty already,” he waved your question off, giving you a bright smile like always, then heading off out of the store once he put the clothes away. You two talked to an ice-cream café that was nearby since you knew he loved chocolate ice cream. He didn’t speak too much, less than usual, but you got the chance to watch him as he looked at the sky and surroundings. The warm sun radiated off his skin and hair, making him glow and glisten. His wide eyes looked so bright in the sunlight, and his soft hoodie was so inviting. Without thinking, you reached over a grabbed the edge of his sleeve, feeling the heated fabric between your fingers that brushed against the skin on his arm. This wasn’t the first time you’d done this so Tendou had gotten used to the feeling, but it still shocked him every time. You held onto his sleeve until you walked into the café, then dropped your hand as you looked over the menu board.

“Let me guess, chocolate ice cream for you? With chocolate sauce and chocolate shavings?” You teased, looking over to him.

He gasped dramatically, putting a hand over his chest, “how did you know?”. You let out a chuckle at his drama and replied,

“I just know you well Satori,” you gave him a warm smile, before walking to the till to order. His mind seemed to glitch a little at your words, did you really learn to know him well? No, you came here often, of course you would remember, anyone would after that many times hearing him say his order. He took a deep breath, then moved closer to you.

“And what can I get for your boyfriend?” The young, perky girl at the till asked, looking between you and Tendou.

“O-oh he’s- he’s not my boyfriend,” you panicked, stuttering through your words as your cheeks burned hot. Boyfriend? You’d thought of it many times before but hearing it out loud was different. Could Tendou really be your boyfriend? As much as you wanted to play along with the idea that he was, in fact, your boyfriend, your embarrassment stopped you. What if it made him uncomfortable at the idea?

He watched you as you defended yourself to the cashier, his eyes losing their shine that they had before. He expected you to quickly reject the possibility, but it still hurt. That was what he wanted to be, what he wanted to hear people ask, so that he could wrap you up with a grin and say confidently, ‘yes, I am her boyfriend’ and douse you in his love. He knew it would be bad for your reputation, your image to be associated with the likes of him, and he never expected you to want him in that way either, but witnessing you pull away from him was 100 times worse than his own thoughts he played in his head.

You ate your cold treat together, mostly in silence. You were still recovering from thinking of Tendou as your boyfriend, but you noticed him being oddly quiet and slower than usual, moving his ice cream around with his spoon.

“Are you ok?” You ask, leaning over to tap his arm and tilting your head. He looked up suddenly, his face first lifeless, his cheeks were pale, and his eyes drooped. After he acknowledged your question, he pushed out a wide smile,

“Hmm? Of course! I’m fine, no need to worry,” he said in his typical joking tone, patting you on the head. He started quickly finishing his ice cream, finding a way to cover his low expression and have an excuse not to speak. You noticed though, you really did know him well, and you knew that he was holding back. It was hard to get through to him, to get him to open up though. He always built a wall around himself that not even you could get through.

“Would you like to go walk in the park?” You asked as you both stepped out the café. His eyes widened slightly at your question, then looked towards the ground.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna head back. I’ve gotta help Wakatoshi with some volleyball stuff. Um, see you later,” his voice broke as he talked but he tried hard to be convincing. He gave you a wave and a grin, before heading off in the opposite direction.

You hadn’t heard from him at all over the rest of the weekend. You had messaged him once to see how things were going, but he hadn’t even read your text. You kept telling yourself that maybe he was just busy, or asleep. Maybe he really was helping the volleyball team sort some things out, but you knew this was unlikely.

When you got back to school, you thought things would go back to normal and that as soon as you saw each other, you’d be able to talk like normal, but he didn’t even acknowledge you when you walked in. He kept his head down, fiddling with a pen.

“H-hey Satori,” you sat next to him in your seat, leaning over a little and speaking quietly. He lifted his head towards you briefly, offering you his usual bright smile, a ‘hey’ then tucked his head back down. You were about to ask what was wrong when the teacher entered, sending students scattering to their seats. The whole time in class went without a single interaction between you and Tendou – he even asked the guy in front of him questions about the topic rather than you.

During your lunch break, he headed off as soon as the bell rang and sat with his teammates. You watched him from across the cafeteria – he seemed like his bubbly self, although that wasn’t usually much to go by since he was a master of covering his emotions. You tried to ignore the possibility that he was avoiding you on purpose, throwing yourself into your conversation with your friends, though you couldn’t help but look over towards him every few minutes.

It continued like this for a few days; you approached him a few times each day, saying hello or asking a question about his day, but he always found some excuse not to talk to you, ending with him running off and you being alone. You just wanted to know what you did wrong, what you did to make him hate you?

If only you know how much he loved you, and how he was doing this to protect you and himself? He thought that if he distanced himself, if he tried to forget how perfect you were to him, then he wouldn’t feel so strongly towards you and mess up your friendship. The worst thing he could think of happening would be for you to reject him after he poured his heart out to you, so he removed himself before you could.

After a week of this distance and many hours of lying awake wondering what was going on, you gave in and pulled up your phone. It read 10: 38pm; the bright light straining your eyes in the dark as you lay in bed. You pressed call under his name, and anxiously awaited as the phone dialled. You didn’t think he was going to answer, but you heard the accepting click of the line just before it went to voicemail.

“Satori? Hey,” you questioned across the phone as he hadn’t spoken.

“Hey, what’s up? It’s late you know, you should be in bed,” his tone teetered between being caring and forced.

“I… I just wanted to talk, are you free?” You heard him shuffle around a little as he stayed silent for a few moments,

“Actually, I’m just in the middle of helping Wakatoshi with some chores so-” you cut him off,

“I know you’re alone. Please just talk to me,” you weren’t opposed to begging at this point for him to speak to you, you just wanted to fix things. He went quiet again for a little while, then let out a sigh that rattled through the receiver.

“Ok,” you barely heard him speak.

“Ok? Can you meet me somewhere? At the park we used to go to behind the big tree?” You rushed out before he could change his mind. He agreed and hung up, leaving the pit of anxiety in your stomach to churn.

You quickly got ready and head out, making your way to your meeting spot. He lived closer than you did, and you saw his red hair standing out under the light of the streetlamps nearby. He was wrapped up in layers of hoodies, tucking his legs close to his chest. You sat down quietly next to him, keeping a little distance that felt so unnatural. Neither of you spoke for a little while as you settled in to being close to each other again.

“What did I do wrong?” You asked suddenly, gazing at the side of his face. He let out a deep breath and looked back at you.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” it almost sounded like a question, as if he had no idea why you were asking.

“Then why won’t you talk to me? Why are you avoiding me like you hate me? I thought we were friends, and that we could come to each other when we had a problem,” you voice was unsteady as you spoke as your mind rattled through various emotions.

“Nothing’s wrong, I’ve just been busy,” he hated lying to you, but he didn’t want to get into this – this was exactly what he was trying to avoid.

“Stop lying to me! Just tell me what I did wrong? Let me fix it. Or at least tell me that we’re not friends anymore so I know,” your eyes filled with tears, shocking Tendou. He didn’t know you cared this much about your friendship, not enough to cry over him. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, so he pulled his head down and held it between his palms.

‘I don’t want to be your friend,” he murmured, loud enough that you still heard. Your eyes grew wide as tears rolled down your cheeks. You were speechless, but he continued.

“I don’t want to just be someone you hang out with because I have no one else, I don’t want to just be someone you try and make happy. I want to be so much more than that,” his voice was muffled in his position, but you heard him clearly.

“What do you mean?” He shook his head at your question, looking up at the dark sky.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m never going to be enough anyway, not that I blame you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you are more than enough.” He let out a sarcastic chuckle at your words, not believing you at all. You moved from your spot to sit in front of him and held his hands in yours. “I think you’re amazing, Satori. You’re so bright and intelligent, you always make me happy and I love how generous and caring you are. You’re my best friend and I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you, Satori, you mean too much to me. I love spending time with you and talking to you. I… God…I love you.” You didn’t really think about what you said, letting your heart take over and spill your thoughts. He stared intensely at you, frozen in his spot. He went to speak but stopped himself and pulled your joined hands close to his face, resting just in front of his lips and closed his eyes.

“I thought if I distanced myself from you I would stop having feelings for you, because I don’t want to ruin what we have, and I don’t know what I’d do if I told you and you said no. I thought I was making things better for us,” his voice cracked as he spoke quietly, keeping his eyes firmly shut.

“You-you like me?” you asked hesitantly, watching him for a reaction. He nodded slightly and covered his whole face with your linked hands, but you pulled yours away. Instead, you lunged forward and pulled him into a tight embrace and let out a breath you had been holding. “Oh my god, I thought you hated me. I like you Satori, I really do. I have for a while I just had no idea you liked me.” You could feel him shaking slightly in your grasp, but he didn’t settle into your touch. In fact, he pulled away a little to see your face and spoke.

“You do? You mean it? Please tell me you really mean it.” His eyes were red, and he spoke so weakly you barely heard him. You placed one hand on his cheek, cupping it and stroking his skin with your thumb.

“I mean it, I promise,” you rested your forehead against his, “I want you in my life, and I want you to be such a big part of it,” you gave him a gentle smile as you looked in his eyes. He smiled back at you, one so genuine that his eyes scrunched up and they seemed to glow. You admired him for a moment, then slowly leaned in, kissing him delicately. Your lips barely brushed against each other’s, but you felt the sparks that tingled their way through your skin. Both of you paused after pulling away, revelling in this state of bliss.

“I guess I have some making up to do but thank you for being mine.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu headcanons #haikyū!!#haikyuu fanfiction #commission #tendou satori #Tendou satori x reader #Tendo satori #tendou x reader

216 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

Note

RWBY has weird gender politics. Ruby, Cinder, and Winter should be diverse characters. But they all rebel against a more powerful man (Ozpin, Watts and Ironwood), rage against him, take what he offers (magic/wisdom, plan/tech, trust/training) and then 'defeat' him. (Ruby's now leading Ozpin.) Salem exemplifies this, Robyn is a parody. But these men are never wrong, and these women lose their individuality as they become the same character with the same character beats. RT has just one plot idea.

Discussing gender in RWBY is definitely... complicated. Especially because (unlike many other stories) what the authors intended to create, what was actually put on the screen, and what the audience interpreted are often three very different things. I don’t think it’s any stretch of the imagination to say that RT wanted to write a “girl power” show (intention), yet they often fail to exemplify that in pretty basic ways (what we see on screen), which leaves a growing part of the audience reading the characters “incorrectly” (what we get out of it). Even if we remove the fact that these three pieces don’t fit well together, Volume 8 struck me as a season that really failed to grasp what it means to put women at the center of your narrative — because it’s not just putting their names in the title and calling it a day. Salem is the Big Bad of our series... but Ironwood is the one who gets a majority of the attention as the antagonist. Ruby is our central protagonist with a seven season relationship with Penny... but Jaune is the one who is given the important scene of killing her. Ren and Nora are of equal importance when it comes to being minor characters... but Nora spends the majority of the volume unconscious while Ren learns (“learns”) to be a better friend/upgrade his semblance. The Ace Ops team has two main women on it... but it’s Marrow who we follow in terms of learning to be one of the good guys. Weiss is one of our MCs who grew up in this kingdom, grew up in this family, has an abusive upbringing to grapple with and a desire to help her people... but it’s Whitley who helps Nora, Whitley who thinks to use the airships, Whitley who has the blueprints to show Ambrosius. Ruby (again) is our protagonist... but Oscar and Ozpin are the ones who take on Salem while she sits in a mansion thinking that she might do something soon. Maybe. Our title team is made up of four women... but it’s the quickly made team featuring Ren, Jaune, Oscar, and Hazel that take on the majority of the action. Yang gets to toss a quick insult at Salem and Emerald escapes with them. That’s the extent of their contribution.

Obviously this list is disingenuous to the series as a whole. I am just speaking about Volume 8 here and even then, we can point to plenty of counter examples (like Penny being the Maiden, or Cinder developing more than she has since Volume 3), but looking back at the volume as a whole, those gender dynamics — based on what RT presumably wants to accomplish; based on how the show is marketed and how it’s been written in the past — feel skewed to me. It’s so easy to look at the number of women in the show, the fact that four of them make up the title, and say that’s enough. But if the story is really about them, why is the fandom back to being frustrated that Jaune is given such a significant moment? Why are the characters with the most lore and magical power both men? Why are the five guys (Jaune, Ren, Hazel, Ozpin, Oscar) engaging in the most action against the antagonist while our title girls sit drinking tea? Why, when the show needs a generic character to do small plot things, do we introduce Pietro and just have Maria tag along? Why create Robyn leading a team of women fighters and then almost immediately separate her from that group, pairing her with men who have been around for seasons and, thus, inevitably steal the spotlight: first Ironwood, then Qrow? I don’t mean, don’t want, and absolutely don’t intend to make so conclusive (and damaging) a claim like, “RWBY Volume 8 is sexist” because it’s way more complicated than that. And, as said, we can list just as many counters too: Ruby killed the Hound, Winter gets the Maiden powers, Neo controls the Lamp, etc. But alongside that issue of how we’re “supposed” to read the story when intention/execution/interpretation are so muddled, and alongside the long-held feeling that the men aren’t afforded the same emotional sympathy as the women are (Ozpin and Ironwood in particular), I can’t help but also feel like the show is periodically falling into the (unconscious) assumption that it’s enough to just put lots of women on screen. Then it’s woke, it’s feminist, it’s progressive, however we want to phrase it... never-mind what the women are doing, or how they’re treated, or how their importance within the narrative compares to the men around them. I keep thinking about the choices here, the big ones listed above, and the smaller ones too: Ironwood doesn’t care about Robyn’s escape, only Qrow’s; Klein and Whitley do the most to help at the mansion (with some tech sleuthing from Willow), Hazel gets the heroic sacrifice while Oscar faces off against Salem, etc. The problem isn’t simply that our main characters were so passive this volume — though that’s problem enough — but rather that RWBY is built around, well, being RWBY. Being the show about how these four awesome, active, independent, powerful women run off to save the world. The show is built on that gendered reading (among others), so when that is significantly toned down — when Ironwood takes centerstage, when Qrow and Clover’s tragedy ends the last season, when Oscar is the hero who defeats Salem, when Hazel’s turn is given the most attention, when Ren’s growth occurs on screen rather than in a coma, when Marrow is the emotional center of the Ace Ops, Jaune steals the spotlight in the finale — it feels like we’ve lost something crucial about RWBY, not just about any show that might be struggling to balance a large cast. I’ve said for years that I want more development for Oscar and for Ozpin to come back, but my personal interest in them as characters isn’t an excuse for introducing so many central women, building your story around their importance... and then having them sit around in a whale, in a mansion, in a jail cell while we focus a great deal on the guys. Obviously the women did a lot in Volume 8 too, it just doesn’t feel like they did as much as they should have given the show RWBY tries to present itself as. Is RWBY the (assumed to be) progressive show about four women like its title suggests, or is it just another large cast looking for a shonen-esque protagonist in the form of Special Boy With Magic or Special Man With Sword and No Fear? Obviously RWBY doesn’t intend to be the latter, but when Oscar feels more like the hero of this story and Jaune feels more like the emotional center of our finale (to say nothing of how Yang and Ren hype up how great he is, just like how Blake hyped Ruby), you have to wonder what went wrong...

#rwby #mymetas #Anonymous

41 notes · View notes