#they make a point to mention it and her touch aversion

[ellelans]

Maria Sten as Frances Neagley,REACHER.

[cakeinthevoid]

Porcelain

yes minutes after my warning I am already posting a snippet. Context? What context? I decided on a quick blurb but if you genuinely have questions/want to know more—send an ask!!!!!

Zinc spends more time with Diana now that she seems cooperative. Diana tries to resist it but she’s so lonely and desperate. She grows to like Zinc, barring the fact that he’s a part of the crew. He tells her about his home and how Marc found him. Diana tells him about the landscape of her home, how it’s really a moon. About architecture and ceramics. She gets choked up. Zinc hesitatingly puts a hand on her shoulder. She tenses but doesn’t pull away. Zinc is paged away into a crew meeting. He leaves awkwardly. 

The next day, after Diana gets a batch of seeds to sprout, Zinc brings water in a ceramic bowl. It’s off white, well used with a chip and a few scratches in the glaze, but has an intricate pattern going around the rim. He gives it to her (to drink the water first, which she does in one sitting then regrets because she probably isn’t getting more) to inspect. She tells him it’s a reinforced porcelain and not pure clay. Then she does a deep dive into the ceramic quality and when it was likely made. She flips the bowl around and tracing the ridges with her fingers, getting super into it. 

“It’s… charming.” 

Diana thumbed the design. “If this was hand painted, it’s really well done,” she said, almost only to herself. “Everything is done in an even coat but—oh.” She stopped twisting the bowl and pointed at a barely noticeable break in the seam of the pattern looping around. She tilted it towards Zinc so he could see.

“What is it?” He leaned in to inspect. 

“Misprint. It wasn’t painted; it was stamped. That explains the colour and thinness,” she muttered.

Zinc looked up at her in awe. “You can tell all of that just from looking at it?” 

Diana averted her gaze, dropping it back to her hands that were fidgeting with the bowl. “It’s just educated guesswork. I work with clay.” She paused, turning the bowl so that the glaze could catch the light. “Worked with, I guess. The glaze seems kind of cheap, too,” she added before holding out the bowl. 

“What?” 

“Aren’t you going to take it back?” 

“Oh. Um,” he fidgeted. “You can—if you like it, you can keep it.” 

Diana lowered her arm. “Where would I keep it?” She said after a beat. “Just take it,” she said forcefully, placing the bowl on the floor with care and turning away. 

“Diana—“

“Don’t,” she snapped. “Just… don’t,” she whispered. She pulled away and settled by the wall in such a way that the chain linked above rested on the ground to her right, between her and Zinc. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. 

Diana said nothing, keeping her back to Zinc, despite the voice in her head screaming to turn around.

“...If you keep… cooperating… Marc will probably let you off the chain, you know.” Diana tensed. “You could be a part of our crew.” 

“What makes you think I’d want that?” She spat, still refusing to look at him. “What makes you think that the moment I’m free, I wouldn’t get the hell off this prison?” 

Zinc gasped. “Don’t say that!” 

She finally looked at him over her shoulder and chuckled humourlessly. “Or what? I can’t believe…” she trailed off as she turned away again.

His gaze darkened. “You know if she hears you talk like that you’ll be stuck like this.” Zinc shook his head and sighed, “I don’t understand what would be so bad if you just joined us.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said darkly.

Zinc looked up, exasperated. “Yeah, I think I have some idea. You think I’m oblivious to what’s going on? You already told me what happened to your moon. Marc told the whole crew about the deal.” His voice quieted. “And… I run the security systems on the ship… I’ve seen the cameras.” 

Diana was mortified to feel ashamed, and tried to drown out that burning emotion with a wave of fury. 

“You—” 

“Your home is gone. At least here, you could have a new life. It really isn't so bad, and maybe you could even go off the ship someday and help Zeyver get plants or even work with clay again! You could have real friends here. Family, even.”

Diana whipped around. Zinc flinched back at her eyes, bright with tears. 

“How dare you?” She started in a raspy voice. “My home isn’t gone and my family isn’t—they’re not—my real friends aren’t—” her voice broke off into a sob. She dropped her head into shaking hands, gasping between sobs. It hurt because he was right, she thought. She was well and truly alone. 

Her breathing hitched, body tensing at the sensation of something wrapping around her. 

Zinc was hugging her. 

She hated it. Hated him. She wanted him to let go. 

She was desperate. Pathetic.

Diana tried to relax into the hug but, “You knew…” she sobbed. 

“I voted against it, at first," he said into her hair. "But then… I didn’t know. I should’ve gone with instinct.” 

“You knew…” she repeated, again and again. 

“Shh,” he soothed, running a hand down her back. It felt like bugs were crawling after his hand. 

Despite all the noise in her head, she leaned into his touch.

She was aware of every point of contact—it felt like knives, even though he was barely touching her. She couldn’t remember when was the last time someone held her without throwing a punch afterwards. The thought tightened the coil in her stomach. 

Zinc was beginning to shake. Or, more likely, she was.

“Are you okay? Sorry, stupid question—” he began to pull away. 

“No—” Diana choked out, and promptly clicked her mouth shut, face aflame. Her damaged hand was gripping his sleeve. Zinc’s eyes dropped to it and she let go as though it too was aflame. 

Oh, she was truly pathetic now. Begging for a hit—

“You want me to… hug you?” It was a statement phrased like a question, but Diana only clenched her jaw tighter, willing the tears in her eyes to stop streaming, willing her body to stop begging for touch and distance at the same time—willing herself to stop being difficult. 

“Is that a no?” He asked slowly. Diana stayed still. His eyes scanned her and she suddenly felt much too exposed, too vulnerable. 

Gently, he raised the arm she was gripping moments earlier. Her eyes darted to it and he stopped. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask before,” he said, looking at her face even though her eyes were pinned on his hand. “I wasn’t—I wasn’t trying to make you cry and I didn’t know what to do.” He tilted his head slightly. “Did you like it?” 

No, she wanted to say. She hated it and hated him. 

She was beginning to hate herself. She wanted comfort, even if it was from the very people who held her like a beast. 

But she couldn’t say yes, because his touch felt like bugs crawling and knives pressing. It felt like the moments between Amsok’s punches, except then, she knew she would be hit. 

I am truly broken now, she thought and felt her eyes well with more tears. 

Zinc’s own eyes widened, settling into a look of worry. “I’m going to hug you now. If you say no, I’ll stop, okay?” 

Diana wanted to move, to at least nod, or even shake her head, but was terrified to realize she couldn’t move. Her muscles locked and she could only close her eyes as she saw Zinc hesitatingly lean in. 

She shuddered as his arms wrapped around her, landing like moths. 

He didn’t rub her back. He stayed as still as though she were made of glass and wouldn't risk breaking her. She felt his breath on her shoulder. It could have been peaceful. 

Diana could only tolerate it for a couple of minutes. Zinc’s arms gradually felt as though they were growing tighter and his breathing was getting too loud and it’s been too long since—she jerked her head to the side. 

“Di—”

“No,” she said. “No no no—” 

Zinc let go instantly. “Okay! Hey, it’s okay.” He raised his hands in a placating gesture. 

She took a deep breath, ignoring how much colder she suddenly felt. She held her left hand tightly with her right hand, focussing on the pain radiating through the metal, up her arm instead. She exhaled sharply through her nose and shut her eyes as fire flamed through her blood. She kept the pressure until her heart stopped racing.  

Diana opened her eyes, blinking to clear her vision, and was startled to see Zinc still sitting in front of her. 

“Why—” she cleared her throat, “—why are you still here?” 

Zinc shifted self-consciously. “To… make sure you were okay.” 

Diana took in a long breath. “Don’t say that,” she said at length. 

He frowned. She sighed again. 

Diana broke the silence when neither spoke for a minute. 

“What do you want from me?” She whispered. 

“Nothing,” he answered immediately, but she just shook her head. 

Before Diana could disagree, Zinc’s communicator began to buzz and flash. He jumped up, stuttered out an apology for startling her again and another for having to leave so abruptly, and ran down the far hall. 

Alone in the main cabin, Diana breathed a sigh of relief. Slowly, the tension bled out of her muscles and she curled up on the floor, spent. It wasn’t long before the darkness of the cabin and hum of the core lulled her to sleep.

~~~

Thanks for reading :))

[heartmaddie]

soft spot ! kageyama tobio , tsukishima kei , sakusa kiyoomi (seperate) incl ; post time-skip , fluff , mentions marriage (sakusa) , kageyama's is a bit sad ? , fem!reader

kageyama tobio ! “i need you ‘cause you’re everything that i’m not”

from the ages of fourteen to twenty-five, kageyama spent every night all alone.

with the absense of his parents, the death of his grandfather and his sister being frequently out of the house, kageyama was used to spending hours in solemnity to the point where he had to trick himself into enjoying it. that was until she had spent the first night at his apartment. after intertwined bodies and sleepy kisses shared between the two of them, it was more than just time with the woman that he had suddenly fallen in love with, but a small peek into the romance that he had missed out on due to his previous aversion to love.

he was addicted to her, addicted to her touch, addicted to the way her hands would brush over the skin of his muscular back which exhibited all the work he’d dedicated to his sport. everything about her was so different to him. her soft fingers and calming words, the way she carried herself with some sort of ethereal grace would completely contrast the monster which kageyama tobio was, or at least thought.

because when he was wrapped in her arms, head resting against the swell of her chest, he was someone else entirely. in his peaceful state of sleep, tobio was somewhat reminiscent of the little boy who had missed out on hours of slumber due to his fear of the dark, only amplified by the fact that he was all alone. so now he would greedily soak up any sort of affection she’d offer him as if it were a precious gold liquid that only he could obtain. whenever he found himself in her arms, his heart would swell to an impossible size, and it was almost like her warmth was chipping away at the ice which adorned his cold heart.

her love seeped through the cracks which dug deep. from the night terrors of his childhood to the loss of the one family member who truly loved him to the rejection of his teammates, tobio was brimming with unvoiced malaise. but only in her arms, was that pain finally taken away from him.

tobio would cling onto her as if nothing else mattered, because every night without her, he was brought back to the old reality which was sleepless nights alone, something he’d never want to experience again.

tsukishima kei ! “don’t believe in love but no one makes me feel like you do”

as of right now, her and tsukishima kei’s relationship was nothing more than quiet walks through the local art gallery with intertwined fingers or spending late nights together at the quiet library downtown as they worked together in silence, he was comfortable with that. he didn’t like the idea of being so dependent on another person, he even found it quite embarrassing when he’d see other couples cling to each other in public. he had voiced this opinion before, and it was mutually agreed upon between the two of them.

he had somewhat mentioned how he played volleyball professionally, but he didn’t tell her a lot about it - so he was quite surprised when he caught a glimpse of her signature beige trench coat and black knitted scarf, a large bouquet wrapped in her arms as she looked around curiously. before he even realised it, blood rushed to his cheeks, his teammates grinning and nudging them along as they caught sight of her too.

tsukishima let out a soft sigh before he walked up to her, taping on her shoulder and eyeing the bouquet quizzically.

“what’s that for?” he asked, his voice a low murmur with a hint of curiosity embedded between words. for a fleeting moment her eyes met him, a meek smile ghosted on her face as she awkwardly stuffed the bouquet into his arms.

“it’s a gift, for you,” she murmured, eyes trained down, just missing the flustered expression of her boyfriend. “a couple of friends told me that you had a game tonight and that it was pretty important or something..” she was embarrassed, her back was visibly tensed up. and tsukishima couldn’t help but wonder if he’s seen a more enchanting thing in his life before this.

it was almost automatic how he reached for her, bringing her face close to his chest as he carefully ensured to not squish the pink lilies cradled in the other arm. he buried his nose into her neatly styled hair, inhaling the soft scent which somehow matched her perfectly.

“thank you, it’s quite thoughtful..” he hummed, and he could feel the convulsions which pattered within his heart as he hesitantly brought tender pink lips towards her.

in moments like these, tsukishima pushed away the idea of being embarrassed, focused on the way her fingers intertwined with his as he embraced her. he smiled against her lips, suddenly overtaken by the unmeasurable swelling in his chest, and for the first time, he decided that maybe love would be okay if it was just with her.

sakusa kiyoomi ! “i hate to dance but i’ll dance with you, ‘cause i’d do anything to feel your touch”

in the dim lighting of their modern apartment, the two figures swayed in perfect sync to the 1960s jazz which played quietly in the background. the swell of her cheek was pressed against his hard chest, arms loosely wrapped around his neck as she inhaled the aquatic and woody accords which wafted around his upper body.

his arms squeezed her hips, moving together in endless circles. while she was focused on correcting her movements and not stepping all over his sock-clothed toes, his eyes were solely trained on her face. in the nighttime, and under the stars, the yellow moon cast a mesmerising glow over her face, and sakusa kiyoomi was enchanted by her. his eyes were unusually soft, his signature pouty expression gone as he found himself falling even more in love with the woman right in front of him as they danced under luminescence.

sakusa’s lips ghosted over the fat of her cheeks, pressing a tender, chaste kiss against soft skin, his arms moving to pull her impossibly closer, and he couldn’t help but smile when she melted into his embrace. if someone were to tell sixteen year old him that he’d find himself in a situation like this, he would’ve scowled or laughed it off. but now, in his full maturity as a twenty-six year old man, he would always seek the comfort and warmth of her soft body, he was almost yearnful for it.

he’s become content in the tranquillity of swaying together in the late hours of the night, he looks forward to it now. and when the record halted to a stop, his arms lifted her into the air, evoking a tired giggle from her chest before placing her languidly over the goose-down quilt and falling right next to her. his lips once again press a soft kiss against the nape of her neck, murmuring a small ‘i love you’, unheard to another’s ears as he watched her fall dormant.

his lips pulled into a soft smile, as he carefully lifted her left hand as if not to wake her up. his fingers rubbed gentle circles against the skin of her fourth finger, his heart beating impossibly faster as he imagined smooth skin replaced by the texture of the two-carat diamond ring which was buried at the bottom of his drawers.

song link

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[reve-writes]

—the set-up; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 1,8k words. ʚ from this request. | three times the crows plan to set you and kaz up + the one time they find out you're married. ʚ fluff; the crows are featured (incl. wesper & helnik ship); kaz's touch aversion isn't featured. ʚ a/n this has been sitting in the drafts for a bit. ive been suffering down the leon brainrot hole (honestly an excellent one to fall into). kaz calls reader schatje (i have a fic where he does this. i chose schatje because ketterdam is loosely inspired from 1500s-1700s amsterdam!). i wrote this in a goofy way honestly.

one. he smiles.

Wylan fiddles with jars and tubes filled with an assortment of chemicals—some of them tend to explode, all of them horrible smelling. He's supposed to be on guard duty and he prefers it over running around guns blazing alongside Jesper—as much as he loves the sharpshooter, gunshots give him a lot of anxiety.

He peers into the room where most of the work is happening.

You are poring over stacks of documents, eyes scanning quickly top-to-bottom to find relevant information. Kaz has his ear pressed against the front of a safe, gloved hand twisting the lock. You move around him in the cramped office space with relative ease, grabbing more files to read on the desk.

It doesn't take long for the safe to swing open.

“No safe is safe from Kaz Brekker, the safe-cracker, huh?” you comment. A light, teasing smile decorates your lips.

“Please never say that sentence again.”

To Wylan's surprise, the ever-frowning Dirtyhands smiles. Not the half-hearted hospitable smile he occasionally gives out, or the scary half-sneer half-smirk that is so intimidating it scares even Wylan sometimes. No, a genuine, amused smile. It is so unnatural that he has to look away, a hand clasped over his mouth in shock.

When he tells Jesper, the taller man mirrors his reaction, dark eyes blown wide and jaw unhinged.

“He smiled?” Jesper gives an incredulous stare as if Wylan has just told him that he is a member of the Council of Tide—which is impossible with Wylan's lack of Grisha ability, let alone tidemaking. “He smiled over that?”

Wylan nods enthusiastically.

“We are talking about the same Kaz?”

“Are there any other Kaz that we know?” Wylan sighs.

“Well, no—”

“I think we have to proceed with the plan,” Wylan ponders. Jesper blinks widely.

“The plan?”

“Nina's plan!” Wylan looks at Jesper as if he's just gotten a strike of inspiration, hand in the air, pointing at nothing in particular. “Operation Kaz and ____. Remember?”

Jesper remembers. It was so ridiculous that it remains impossible to remove from his memory to this day, even though it was mentioned in passing.

Nina, flushed red from too many drinks, suddenly shoots her hand up, flailing it limply. The founder of the idea seems to have a plan ready to set in motion.

“We are the gods of love!” She drunkenly declares, free hand moves to tap Wylan's cheeks repeatedly. “And as the benevolent gods that we are, our first mission is them.”

Nina pushes Wylan's face towards you and Kaz, sat at the bar, deep in conversation. The rest of the Crows followed suit, realising Nina's suggestion. She stumbles over drunkenly and with little-to-no care on making it look as natural or accidental as she can, "trips" over her foot and falls forward.

You take the brunt of the force, being pushed forward that you fall onto Kaz. The latter glares at Nina, hand coming to your shoulder to steady you.

“My bad.... It seems I've lost my balance,” she slurs. “Oh! Would you look at that? The two of you would make quite a pair, don't you think so, Matthias?”

Matthias raises an eyebrow, already hauling Nina with him to get back to their table.

“Poor Helvar,” says Kaz simply, nudging you to get back on the barstool.

“He doesn't seem to mind,” you retort, noting Matthias' loving gaze as he escorts Nina.

It doesn't take long before the chaos settles, leaving you and Kaz, still engaging in conversation as the last patrons leave the Crow Club.

“We would make a good pair, huh?” You tease, reaching over to brush your hand against his, leather soft under your palm. “You think so?”

Kaz looks at you pointedly, tugging your left hand towards him, fingers pressing on the small diamond adorning your ring finger. “Would I have given you this, if I didn't?”

Smooth with his words without even trying. A trait you find both annoying and endearing after all the years you've been together.

“I mean you have a lot of diamonds lying around—”

“Schatje.”

“Yes?” All train of thought immediately halts on its tracks. The petname has a hold over you that he oh-so-often uses as leverage. You pout. “Stop distracting me.”

He smiles—soft and uncharacteristic, contradictory to the harsh rasp of his voice and the rough scars on his skin. He smiles a smile he reserves only for your eyes, and you're falling for it, a hundred times over.

two. the demjin.

You don't like when Kaz gets like this—all wrung up over a waivable matter. It reminds you a lot of what he had to be before, the things he had to do and what Dirtyhands actually stood for. Not at all akin to the Kaz Brekker you know—the one who immediately comes whenever one of your crew is threatened, the one who stays up with you as you wait for the rest of your little heist crew to return, the one who goes out of his way to collect little trinkets to bring home to you.

You are hurt, shallow cuts all over your body from a little dagger scuffle with a mercenary, but you're a member of the Dregs—this, you can take. A little Heartrender magic and some bandages, you will recover in no time.

“You're back.”

Kaz stops and you look over him to find his knuckles bloodied, hair stuck out of place and clothes disheveled.

“You're alright, schatje?”

His room at the Slat isn't big contrary to popular belief. He sinks into his chair with a huge sigh. You're watching him three steps away from the edge of his bed.

“What did you do?”

He shrugs, tugging his coat off. “Business.”

“You went after them.”

“It was one part of the business.” He pulls at his gloves, shedding them into the trash—too bloodied for him to bother cleaning. “Are you sure you're alright?”

You tuck your hands into your elbows, displeasure visible across your features. “Are you?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“Kaz.”

“They deserved it,” he stubbornly says. “I had to make sure they know not to involve themselves with us. You understand. Besides, I'm alright.”

“I do understand,” you relent. It is business. The Barrell doesn't stop for poets or musicians or lovers, no, it thrives off of the back of violence, taking an eye for an eye. “I just wish that you were here when I woke up.”

His shoulders loosen and he is your Kaz again. Not the one molded by Ketterdam, birthed at its harbour. He's the man so in love that he will dry the seas for you if you say the word. Kaz takes your hands. They are warm on his skin and his heart swells.

“I am sorry, schatje.”

You kneel in front of him, leaning your elbows on his thighs to press a brief kiss on his lips. “Let's stay off business for a while.”

“Kaz?” A sound outside the door, followed by three raps. “Are you in there?”

“He is, Jesper. Give us a moment,” you reply.

You hear hushed whispers—both low voices, so you assume it's Wylan. Your suspicion is confirmed when the second voice sounds from behind the door.

“No, we—no, Jes—don't have anything urgent. We simply wanted to know if he is well. Take your time. We'll be going now.”

“Good night, Wylan,” you reply, immediately hearing fading footsteps soon after.

“Fifty kruge says they're already together,” says Jesper, out of your earshot.

Wylan rolls her eyes. “Fifty on them not dating yet.”

Jesper immediately clasps Wylan's hand with a loud “Deal!”

iii. the marketplace.

“Busybodies,” Kaz complained, walking a step behind you as you're treading through the Ketterdam food market. “They are not even hiding. In broad daylight. How have they never gotten caught before?”

“Kaz, my love.” You are trying not to laugh as you're picking and choosing fruits. “They usually do a better job on actual missions.”

They refer to your five lovely friends who have decided to tail you as you're coming down to the market. Kaz is the first to take notice—blurry figures moving erratically ten steps behind you.

“I should assign them something to do instead of... whatever it is they're currently doing.”

“They're curious.” You shrug, handing over a few slips of Kruge to the seller and leaving with your bag five apples heavier. “We've been acting suspicious lately. They'll find out soon enough.”

“I'll bet Inej finds out first.” Kaz nudges your fingers with his, taking the bag from you as he matches his step with yours. “The Wraith does a better job at spying.”

“My bet is Matthias.” An unlikely one. He's probably the least nosy out of the five.

Suddenly, you're pulled into a small nook, squuezed between buildings and he presses a kiss on your lips. One turns to two and you're smiling like a lovesick fool when he pulls away.

“We're being followed and you pull this?”

“Schatje, our pursuers are horrendously bad at this.” He shrugs, pulling away. You resume your trek through the market. “Look. They've lost us.”

iv. the marriage certificate.

“Fake IDs,” Kaz says, pointing at the towering Fjerdan. “You'll be collecting them from Anika.”

Matthias doesn't mind running errands, although he does think that he'll be better suited for physical fights other than fetching papers, but he doesn't argue. It seems he is doing more than simply fetching papers though.

“That is real?” He asks Anika, pointing at a marriage certificate she has on her desk. Marriage certificates are mundane enough not to warrant this type of reaction, but it is the name that shocks even him to the core. Kaz Brekker and you, married?

“As real as can be around here.” Anika scrambles to hide it away. “Here are your IDs. Don't tell anyone about it.”

In Matthias' defense, he doesn't end up telling just anyone. He tells Nina and Nina is the one telling everyone else. Within a week, every member of the Crows have known about it.

Wylan hands Jesper slips of fifty kruge, grumbling that this is unfair. Nina looks like spring has just arrived. Inej is probably the least reactive—but that is because she's already found out long before the others. She's the Wraith after all. Matthias is anxious. For all everyone knows, he is the one responsible for the news.

You strut into the dining room, seeing everyone gathered and raise an eyebrow.

“Why are you all here?”

“We want to ask—”

Before Nina can finish her sentence, Jesper blurts out. “You're married?”

You chuckle, shrugging. “You found out.”

“How long?”

“Kaz? Really?”

“How did that happen?”

A series of questions that you don't actually answer. You stand there, leaning on the back of one of the wooden chairs situated in the room—remorseless to your very core.

“Ask him about it.”

That ends the discussion. None of them will actually ask him about it and even if any of them actually finds the courage to, the likelihood of Kaz answering anything that's not a sarcastic remark or a threat is close to none.

“How did you find out anyway?”

Everyone points towards Matthias and to the Fjerdan's horror, Nina's pointer finger finds him, too.

You only smile, silently planning to brag to your spouse that you've won your bet.

[ ].

[kryaaas]

Harry is very aversive to touch!!!!!

There really only few instances we see Harry touch someone

Most of the time other people initiates physical contact with Harry. Kim often touches his shoulder to comfort him, in the end Jean walks him to the car (and in some endings Jean seems to almost forcefully shove Harry to his side, while harry hesitates). I think the one time Harry touches Kim is when you dont recruit him in the end (🥺...)

Another contact that Harry starts is when he hugs the working class woman and it cause some traumatic memories to resurface

There are certain moments where Harry physically hurts people (the Unsolvable Case, holding a woman in her apartment, punching cuno) but ultimately it seems like a common occurrence.

If writers wanted to convey some great violence from Harry could have easily been a mention of harry (during the bender) starting a fight with whirling customers or physically assaulting them and Sylvie or attacking his colleagues. But...there is almost none of it. There are tons of other bad things Harry have done, the game doesnt not shy away from it (him harassing civilians and threatening with a gun). But this harassment doesnt seem to actually fighting someone. If anything he seems more comfortable physically lashing out on inanimate objects (jean says he was things things, the skua thing, and the whole anti-object task force thought) rather than people

And of course there is a lot to say with Harry's attitude towards sex and the Half-light check during the conversation with Klassje:

Sex while sober is something scary and uncomfortable to the point Harry to the point he cant even umagine having sex without alcohol

And the high light suggests some sexual trauma (No, this cannot be interpreted as Harry being a perpetrator because it couldnt be more clear how "cant have sex while sober" is meant to be a direct parallel to Klassje and harry obviously puts himself in her shoes)

Guys, its okay, I promise you can portray pre-martinaise Harry or present Harry as an asshole without making him a rapist or overconfident flirt. You wont die from it. I believe in you. You can do it.

[waywardnerd67]

I Trust You

Title: I Trust You Summary: A chance meeting leads to midnight confessions and overcoming your deepest fears. Main Characters: Glen Powell, Reader Pairing: Glen Powell x Reader Rating: E - Everyone Warnings: RPF/Fluff/Angst w/ mentions of: touch deprivation, touch aversion Word Count: 3103 A/N: Trying to work out some feelings.

The party was in full swing. People were dancing, drinking and making out throughout the house. I happened to find a secluded corner in the backyard that no one seemed to notice. Still nursing the original beer I grabbed when I arrived hours ago. Watching all the celebrities and models mingling had me sinking further back into my little corner. I didn’t belong among the rich and beautiful, but my best friend insisted I come with her. Taking a look around, I found her sitting on some guy’s lap with her head thrown back in laughter. She belonged here.

I pulled out my phone to see if I could order an Uber home. It wouldn’t have been the first time I left a party without her. She meant well, trying to pull me out of my shell. It had been over a decade since I last felt like the woman I once was and going to some Hollywood party wasn’t going to change me back into her. I had been broken completely and beyond repair.

“Planning an escape?” A low, smooth voice said beside me.

Looking up, I was taken back by the handsome man standing there. Living in L.A. you get use to seeing movie stars walking down the street, but he happened to be one of her favorites.

“I’m Glen, by the way.” He held out his hand.

“(Y/N).” I said, taking his hand and willing mine to stop trembling, “And yes, I think it’s kind of obvious that I don’t belong here. Plus, I’m sure my friend will be taken well care of.”

His bright green eyes followed her pointing finger, “Ah yes, it looks like she has one of my friends wrapped around her finger. He’s harmless and won’t do anything stupid with her.”

“That’s good to know. She’s also a big girl and can take care of herself.” I forced my eyes to look away from him and back to my phone.

He squatted down beside me, “You know if you want to leave, I’d be more than happy to take you home. I haven’t been drinking tonight so consider me your DD.”

I smiled, “That’s kind of you, but I don’t want to pull you away from your own party. That would be kind of rude of me.”

Realization shined in his eyes as he chuckled, “So you do know who I am.”

“Oh yes. You’ve had quite the year with three major movies coming out. Hitman was in the running for my top movie this year until I saw Twisters. Can’t resist a tornado chasing cowboy.”

His laugh covered my skin in goosebumps, “I like that though you could just call me the Tornado Wrangler.” He let his full Texan accent come out, making me smile.

“I prefer cowboy to wrangler. Anyway, I should probably finish ordering this Uber and head out front. It was nice meeting you, cowboy.” This time I held out my hand to him.

He shook it, “Are you sure I can’t convince you to let me drive you home. It would be no problem and then that way I don’t have to worry about you ending up on the ten o’clock news kidnapped by a serial killer.”

I laughed as he still held my hand in his, “Are you sure? I live about thirty minutes away.”

“Let’s go.” He pulled me up from my spot and led me back towards the house.

I sent a text to my best friend letting her know I was heading home. I left out the part that it was Glen Powell who was taking me home. She replied with her usually be careful and talk tomorrow.

Glen handed his phone to me, “Type in your address.” I did, handing it back to him and he took off towards the highway.

It was a beautiful night for it being in August. The cool night breeze felt wonderful after a scorching day. Looking over, I found myself taking in every inch of Glen driving beside me. He had on a Texas Longhorns hat backwards, black tank top and orange colored swim trunks. One arm was resting on his open window while the other held onto the steering wheel. His long fingers kept beat to the song he was playing.

There was a comfortable silence between us and for the first time in a long time I felt relaxed in the presence of another person. Even with my friends or co-workers there was always an underlying layer of anxiety. The need to run from people always being my first gut reaction. Maybe it was the small amount of alcohol I had in my system or a miracle but I found myself drawn to Glen. Or it could be I had fantasized about being with him for years and my inner fangirl was showing herself more than ever.

“Everything okay?” He asked, glancing over at me.

I realized he must have caught me staring, “Yeah, everything is fine. Sorry if I was staring. Sometimes my inner fangirl shows more than I want her to.”

His smile was breathtaking, “Quite alright. Not everyday I can meet a fan who isn’t screaming, crying, throwing up.”

We both laughed, “Has a fan actually thrown up in front of you?” I asked.

He shook his head, “No. Just trying to keep up with all the cool sayings the kids say.”

“You make it sound like you're old and you're not.”

He touched his hand to his chest, “Why thank you for thinking I’m young. I will have you know that I’ll be thirty-six this year.”

I scoffed, “Meh, been there and done that.”

Glen took the exit for my house, “What? There’s no way you’re older than me.”

“Afraid so, cowboy. I will be turning thirty-eight this year. So respect your elder.”

His laugh filled the car, “Wow, I would have never believed you were older. What the hell is your secret?”

The answer was out of my mouth before I could even think about it, “I have no children and no spouse.”

It was the answer that I always said inside my head but never out loud. People asked me all the time how I could still look like I was in my late twenties. I always told them I had a baby face. The real answer was I lived alone and didn’t let anyone close to me. Hence, the no kids or spouse.

“So, no kids and no spouse. Does that also include no boyfriend/girlfriend?”

His question sent a shiver down my spin, “Uh… yeah. There’s no one except for Winchester, my maine coon. He’s all I’ve needed these last few years.”

Why was I being so open with him? I always avoid questions about my personal life with everyone. I looked over to see my house coming into view. A brief moment of relief swept over me knowing I would be safe inside my four walls of security soon. Then a sickening feeling pooled in my gut as Glen pulled into my driveway and shut off his car.

“Thank you for the ride. I appreciate you leaving your own party to take me home.” I unbuckled my seatbelt and placed my hand on the door handle.

“(Y/N), can I tell you something?” He asked, placing his hand on top of mine resting on the seat.

I tried to control my body flinching, but there was no use in it. Touch was always the one thing that set my nerves on edge. If he had noticed me flinched then he didn’t let on to it.

“S-Sure.”

“I’d been working up the courage to talk to you all night. The moment I saw you walk in, I asked my buddy who you were. He told me about your friend being a model and asking about bringing you to my party. Your friend told me that you were shy and to be aware that you don’t often talk to anyone outside your core group of friends.”

My heart was hammering in my chest, “She told you that? What else did she tell you, huh? That I’m a recluse and avoid all social interactions. That my ex completely broke me as a person. That I can’t stand to be around people or to be touched. That I’m all kinds of fucked up and damaged.”

I got out of the car and headed to my front door. My heart shattered into pieces from my best friend telling my darkest secrets to someone, especially to a man like Glen Powell. I made it to the door before I realized my keys were still in her car back at his house.

“Fuck!” I yelled, sliding down to the ground.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry, I swear that’s all she said to me.” He sat down in front of me, “What’s wrong? Other than the obvious.”

I sucked in a shaky breath, “My keys are back at your house in her car. Now not only am I completely embarrassed in front of one of my favorite actors but I’m completely locked out of the only place I feel safe.”

“Do you have an alarm system?” He asked.

“What?” I looked up at him confused, “No, why?”

“I promise I’ll pay for the repairs.” He said before he took off his tank top wrapping it around his fist and sending it through the window next to her door.

“What the hell are you doing?!” I yelled watching as he cleared out the glass then reached inside.

The familiar click of my deadbolt unlocking then Glen pulled out his arm twisting the door knob. It swung open freely and I could feel the tension in my chest release. Standing up, I noticed the blood dripping onto the ground.

“Shit, you’re hurt. Come inside and I can clean you up.” I said carefully walking over the broken glass on either side of the door.

I went into my bathroom to grab the first aid kit while Glen was sitting down at my kitchen table. Unwrapping his shirt from his hand, I found small knicks and shards of glass in his tan skin. The bleeding was coming from a gash on his arm from when he smashed through the window.

“You might need stitches.” I said, cleaning the cut on his forearm.

“You know, it looks way easier and cooler on TV.” He chuckled, “Ow.”

I wrapped his arm with gauze only then realizing he was sitting there shirtless. His well toned chest and abs on full display making my body ache in ways it hadn’t for years. The overwhelming desire to touch him nearly made my knees give out.

“Are you okay? You look like you might pass out.” He asked, grabbing a hold of my hips to balance me out.

A second realization hit me harder than the first. He had touched me and I didn’t flinch. I didn’t jerk away. I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

“(Y/N), you’re scaring me.” He whispered, his grip on my hips tightening.

“Y-You’re touching me.” The words were barely above a whisper.

He reached over to grab another chair and guided me onto it, “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t fall.”

I shook my head, unable to put the correct words together, “I… It’s just… I don’t know how to explain.”

His hands were resting on top of mine, “Whatever it is you can say it. I won’t take offense or have any judgments.”

I had no idea what kind of spell the man in front of me had casted but I found myself wanting to explain everything to him. Looking into his concerned eyes, I just knew I could trust him. Suddenly, I had tears falling down my cheeks.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to tell me anything. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” His thumbs were rubbing against my knuckles sending waves of heat over my skin.

“When I got divorced, I swore off dating. I wanted to work on being on my own, rebuilding my life and not focusing on a relationship.”

He smiled, “That’s smart. I’ve been doing the same thing these last few years.”

“One year turned into two and before I knew it a decade had gone by. No relationships. No kissing, hugging, cuddling, and definitely no sex.” He nodded, continuing to rub my hands as I continued, “What turned from learning to live alone became being alone. I desire to have someone in my life and have even tried to date, but it always turns out wrong.”

“How so?”

I took a deep breath, “Any time I thought about going out on a date I would have a panic attack. The thought of trusting someone to be with them that would lead to touching and that would send me into a complete spiral.”

Glen looked down at our hands, “Is this okay?”

I nodded, “Yes which is why I’m having a deliriously happy and panicked moment right now. I haven’t been touched by anyone in years. Sure, I will half heartedly hug my friend or family but it is always at some kind of distance. Hugging to me is the most intimate form of touch that isn’t sexual.”

His eyebrow arched curiously, “Go on…”

“Think about it. When you hug someone, you are trusting them with your whole body. Their arms wrapped around your body completely. Their whole being being pressed against yours. A hug is sex with your clothes on.”

He smirked, “I have honestly never thought of it like that. I don’t think I’ll ever see hugging in the same way again.”

“Humans need that intimacy. They need to feel that trust in their very soul and act it out physically. I…” I paused, looking into his eyes, “I haven’t felt that in over a decade. My therapist calls it touch deprivation that has formed into touch aversion. I’m desperate to touch someone and be touched, but my brain simply won’t let my guard down enough to allow someone in.”

I watched as his bottom lip disappeared beneath his teeth in deep thought, “The fact that you haven’t flinched or moved away from me is a big moment for you?”

I nodded with a fresh batch of tears flowing down my face, “Yes. I don’t know if it’s because you genuinely seem like a good person from all the interviews I’ve watched or from the good guy characters you’ve portrayed. It could very well be my fangirl delusion masking the pure panic waiting to come out. I don’t know. All I do know is I feel safe around you.”

I looked away feeling my cheeks burning. I had practically told my whole sad truth and ended with a lame love confession. Slowly, the panic was starting to seep through the joy and my hands began to tremble within his.

Glen squeezed my hands then stood up, pulling me up with him, “You feel safe?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

“Do you trust me?” He asked as I nodded again without even thinking twice about my answer.

He lifted my hands up behind his neck, interlocking my fingers. I knew what was coming and the rope around my chest began to tighten. My breaths were coming out in rugged puffs as his arms wrapped around my waist. They tightened around me as his head buried into the crook of my neck.

“I got you. I’m not going to let go or let you fall. I’ve got you.” He whispered and a strangled sob escaped my lips, “I’ve got you. I promise nothing will happen to you. I’ve. Got. You.”

My grip around his neck tightened and I pressed my face into his chest. He kept repeating his mantra that he had me and I could feel the rope around my chest being cut away. Finally, I took in a long breath feeling all the tension vanish from my muscles. Glen pulled back enough to look down at me with a brilliant smile on his lips.

“How was that?” He asked.

I could feel my lips spreading into a wide grin, “I… I hugged you. I actually hugged you. I can’t believe it.”

He scooped me up, picking my feet up off the ground and spinning me around. A loud giggle erupted from my lips that surprised me.

“That giggle is music to my ears. Proud of you! I know that must have been a big step to take and I’m grateful you trust me to take it.”

Seeing how happy he was for me stirred up a new emotion, a new line to cross and I found myself pushing myself up on my toes and kissing him. I felt his body tense up and immediately I backed away.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. I got caught-”

Glen pressed his lips firmly against mine once again. The kiss was simple, sweet and ignited an ember of passion within me. When he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine I knew he was holding back.

“You never, ever have to apologize for kissing me. I’m honored you trust me with your hugs and kisses.”

“I’m really scared I’m going to wake up tomorrow and find this all to be a dream.” I whispered.

He leaned in kissing me once more, “Tell you what. I will sleep on the couch and when you wake up tomorrow I can remind you that this was all very real.”

I knew I shouldn’t push myself any further, but the thought of him being on the couch while I was in my bed didn’t sit right with me. I bit into lip fighting with the urge to lead him upstairs to my room or to agree with him, leaving him downstairs.

“What’s the battle going on in your head?” He chuckled.

“I’m taking a leap of faith.” I said, grabbing his hand and leading him towards the stairs.

Glen stopped us at the bottom step, “(Y/N), are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything. I’m fine sleeping on the couch.”

Standing on the step, I was equal height to him, “I’m not saying that there will be cuddling or anything more. The thought of you sleeping down here doesn’t feel right.”

He leaned in, kissing me briefly, “Okay, but I’m going to apologize now if I happen to cuddle you in my sleep. I’m definitely a cuddler.”

“It’s okay. I trust you.” I laced our fingers together and continued walking up to my room.

-----

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[songofthesibyl]

Coming out of hiding because I keep seeing people say how sexy it was when Lucien comforted Feyre after her “nightmare” and it’s just probably the most disturbing scene of the book for me. Just like I did not, in any way, shape, or form find Rhysand sexy when he was terrorizing and humiliating Feyre, Tamlin, and Lucien in the first book, and it’s probably why I’m turned off of sexualizing anything from these books in general. Particularly with the fandom the way it is, I can’t be lighthearted about anything—but also reading these scenes by myself before entering the fandom I still felt the same way. 

It’s also difficult not getting annoyed by the “toxic Tamlin narcissistic jealousy” thing, because I see little to no evidence of this in the books prior to this scene in ACOWAR. The first time it is mentioned is in that same section of the book, what Feyre is provoking. She mentions the “back off” conversation from the first book, saying Tamlin was afraid it would get in the way of all of his plans. Out of anger she is ignoring the context of that scene, sure—but there is still no way that makes sense. Lucien was “jealous” of Isaac too—because neither he nor Tamlin wanted Andras’ death to be in vain, when this was probably their last chance. It is too unbelievable that it would be out of some petty immature jealousy. Fear, yes. But not out of lust and desire.

But to that point—apart from Lucien, who simply hasn’t been given a chance to be toxic as a partner yet—which male lead hasn’t been jealous? Rhysand admits to jealousy UTM and when he terrorized her at the manor; he was jealous of Tarquin when she was purposely instructed to seduce him. Cassian roared across the Sidra about his jealousy. Azriel was jealous and resentful of everyone in his bonus chapter. The former yelled and/or were violent. Azriel intimated willingness to violence (however serious he was about it). For Rhysand and Cassian the excuse would be “because mates,” but since Tamlin is not given the excuse of magic, I’m not giving it to them either. Any of the other instances I mentioned would be considered irredeemable red flags for Tamlin, yet for Cassian and Rhysand they are harmless, benign miscommunication trope scenarios.

If people weren’t weird about Tamlin all of this would be chalked up to soapy melodrama, but if people are going to treat him a certain way as a character, then the rest get treated that way too. ACOMAF was supposed to model a healthy partnership in Feysand, not a Vampire Diaries/Buffy-esque dark romance. 

So then, who was Tamlin jealous of that we could see? Bron and Hart? It’s difficult to count Rhysand considering what Tamlin saw him do to her. So, who? This is all based on a half-remembered conversation? 

The bottom line is Tamlin was mentally unwell, and so the thing was to provoke any emotion, because anything could set him off. Confuse him, distract him, unnerve him, out of a desire for revenge. And to use his only friend, who had recently been sexually assaulted by Ianthe, to do it. And so yes, when Tamlin saw the woman he thought was touch-averse due to what she led him to believe happened to her constantly getting touched by Lucien, or seemed to be touched by him, he was confused.

I don’t find any of this sexy.

[daryldixonfanfiction]

What you fight for! Pt.11 - Pure intentions (*18+)

Masterlist

Summary: Discovering she's unexpectedly pregnant, Julia struggles with breaking the news to Daryl...

Warnings: *18+, SMUT!, age gap, mutual pining, morning cuddles, fluff, comfort-sex, unprotected p in v, fingering, aftercare, scary situation, creepy men, protective!Daryl, unexpected pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, aversion to blood, mention of abortion, fear of abandonment, anxiety, panic attack, dissociation, angst.

wc. 5k

Flinching awake, Julia found herself in Daryl's arms.

His breath blows against the nap of her neck, like the tide, a steady rhythm. He was holding her tightly against him, and she didn't miss his one hand cupping her breast underneath her shirt. It was adorable. Daryl Dixon, completely out seeking comfort in his sleep like a baby. It was unusual to be the first one awake, but she was glad she was, cherishing the innocent moment of his softness.

Careful to not wake him, she turned so she was facing him. And it was a sight to see. His face was laxed with sleep, the harsh lines were not as prominent making him look much younger. And she felt curious, not knowing his age, remembering she had told him hers. It had not thrown him off so he could not be that much older, right? Honestly she didn't think age matters that much and neither did she care if he was. At most she thought him to be a decade older and she didn't see anything wrong with that.

Julia smiled, before pressing her lips to his cheek in a silent thank you. A thank you for him still being here and not regretting her. His confession echoed in her mind just as clearly as he had said it,

“I never regretted you and that's the truth. You hear'n me.”

and she felt so happy, her heart pounding freely in her chest, feeling that part of her that had been hurting melting away with the sunrise glowing on there faces.

Julia didn't know if it was love or what, but how she feels in his presence must be something close to that. And it had been there, slowly growing inside her heart sins that morning. And she had recognized those feelings for him, something significantly deeper, more profound than one would feel for a friend. Staring up at his sleeping face she knew she wanted more than a friendship, that what she truly wanted was what she had longed for…

Love.

Daryl pulled her closer, still in his sleep wanting her flush against him. His face was so close, their foreheads almost touched, and she washed him there closely, tracing the pads of her fingertips along his strong features. And, oh…how she adored him, finding him innocent in his state of sleep. Brushing his bed head out of his face she couldn't help but to feel the attractiveness there, he was a very handsome man. But no. He was far more. She found him beautiful in a way she didn't know a man could be.

She washed him snuggled into her chest, clearly searching for comfort in his sleep, and she wondered what he was dreaming about, if it was a good or a bad dream, but he looked peaceful, so she assumed it must be a pleasant one. Caressing his stubbled cheek she wanted the moment to never end, that they could stay like this forever. But as it got lighter nature called and she thought she could hold it just a bit longer, but it got to the point it felt painful. Carefully unwrapping his heavy arms from her waist she doesn't get far before he pulls her back.

“Were you going?” his deep voice questions.

"Bathroom.”

Daryl sighs with closed eyes, clearly against the idea of letting go, “Can’ it wait, let's sleep some more.”

“I got to go, Daryl.”

With a heavy sigh he opened his eyes, and she washed him back, smiling sweetly up at him.

“What?” Daryl questions.

“Nothing,” Julia smiled.

“What?”

“You slept like a baby, it was adorebulle.”

“Shut up,” embarrassment evident on his face, making Julia stifle a laugh.

Julia grabs her pack to tack with and it’s when she gets up to stand it feels like her body isn't keeping up. With her hands on her knees, slightly bowed over waiting for her vision to return and the lightheadedness to go away, Daryl moves closer,

“You good?”

“Uh, yeah. Think I just got up too fast,” Julia reassured, feeling herself coming back.

A warm hand grabbed her chin, tilting it upwards, “You're pale,” Daryl stated.

And Julia could feel she was but this was nothing new, she had been anemic her whole life so she didn't make a big deal out of it and her answer seemed to ease his worry as he released her chin, beginning to busy himself.

Julia didn't waste any time, heading straight for the bathroom. All the aisles were looted but a small area was left untouched. Female products were almost stocked to the brim with brands upon brands of pads, tampons and hair products. And she didn't think much of it until her eyes landed on the middle shelf. There was almost an audible click in her brain. She felt her mind racing and her body shaking as she stood there before the brands of pregnancy tests.

There was this intense feeling of realization washing over her. That even though she had always been irregular her entire life never had it been this late. No she can’t be - shouldn't she be throwing up if she was, she didn't know. And she certainly didn't understand why there were so many different tests, why couldn't there be just one? It was all too overwhelming and she was starting to jump to conclusions. But she couldn't stand the thought of not knowing in case she was. And she probably wasn't, right?

It almost felt like she couldn't think anymore and in her panic state and her need to pee she snagged a Clearblue week indicator test and a First Response test and locked herself in the bathroom near the back of the store.

Julia sat herself on the toilet with her pants down with the two brands of tests in each hand. She wasn't familiar with brands or which one was best. Did it matter they had expired by a year - she hoped not. Her being an anxious person she felt indecisive in which to pick so she decided to try all of the tests, which all together was six tests. Finishing up she pleased them all face down, letting them develop on top of the toilet lid.

The wait was tormenting and it read she had to wait for 3 minutes. She couldn't stay still for that long, she had to do something in her wait so she did her morning routine, changing undergarments, brushing teeth and fixing her hair. The feeling of doing something normal in a situation like this made her calm somewhat even though she was still shaking.

Taking a deep breath she looked herself in the mirror and she really was pale like Daryl had pointed out, but now it was more likely because she was scared more than anything. With a shaky hand she went for it, flipping the First Response tests over, and to her shock there was an unmistakable strong red line on all three of them, and she just stared as if the lines would disappear if she did so long enough. Then she looked at the Clearblue ones, and to her devastation it said,

Pregnant

3+

Oh, god.

Reading the package over and over again she confirmed she was 6 weeks pregnant and she have had no idea, having completely ignored all the signs.

Julia almost collapsed backwards into the sink as her mind made sense of it. But it wasn't translating - it wasn't even computing as a fact. But the positive tests were there, clear as day, staring right back at her…And it was very real.

Julia covered her mouth, eyes watering as she stared back at herself in the mirror as the world-shattering news sunk in. It feels almost like being given the news that someone was dead...That feeling of reality slipping away like it didn't exist. Her chest expanded suddenly, inhaling a deep breath to keep her from blacking out right then and there - and she looked down at herself, her eyes resting on her stomach. She took her jacket off and in her shirt she backed up so she could see her abdomen in the mirror, turning sideways and smoothed down the fabric there. It was way too early but she was already beginning to show. She could see the little curve there, feeling like it was staring right back at her - and all this time she had mistaken it as bloating. But what about the period of pain she had been feeling and her tender breast? Was it supposed to hurt? Was it normal to feel like this - and she wished she had all the answers, but she didn't, of course she didn't.

It was alive in there. A small thing that was a part of herself and a part of the man she had slept with and woken up to - no… it was a part of Daryl.

Julia felt tears in her eyes. Stupid - stupid - stupid, how could she have been such an idiot? They hadn't - they hadn't been safe at all. Not even a little bit. And why hadn't they been safe? Well...none of it had been planned - it had just…happened. Both desperately seeking comfort in one another without the thought of consequence. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind in either of the moments they had spent together - because she had craved it so badly. But then again, had Daryl not thought about it, or had he just not cared?

Julia felt like she might fall over again - the thought of Daryl...of him knowing - of it actually happening…Oh, god. She felt sick to her stomach of just thinking about it. They had barely begun a journey of knowing each other, but there was a connection there between them that had begun to come to the surface that felt far deeper than just sleeping with one another.

Her hands moved underneath the fabric of her shirt to press down her stomach, and she shut her eyes, and it felt… different, it was definitely something growing inside of her.

Several tears fell just at the feeling and the notion there was a very real baby in there, and when she opened them again she had to sit down on the floor before she would fall over. She was completely devastated, having thought things would be okay and happy, but of course something would destroy…she didn't want it to end.

She didn't know if she could stand yet, it almost felt like she actually would throw up on the floor. And she wondered if that was a sign of morning sickness or because of the anxiety?

She got on her berings slowly, vision tilting just slightly as she held herself up with one hand against the wall. Knowing if she took any longer Daryl would come knocking. So she calmed herself as much as she could, drying her tears and putting on her jacket and pack back on, discarding the evidence in the trash bin before heading out.

Walking back to the same aisle, feeling like she deserves some sort of control over the situation. Because she just wanted to feel like she had a choice and she knew she had to make one before it was too late. She wasn't sure of what to take for an abortion, if any of the over the counter pills worked and she felt like a shameful person as she grabbed an emergency contraceptive. Standing there and just staring at the box in her hand she was still making that choice in her head - and she just didn't know what to do. Did it make her a bad person if she took it? Was it irresponsible? Immoral?

On the back of the package it read, DO NOT USE: If you're already pregnant (because it will not work).

And of course it wouldn't. It wasn't an abortion pill after all, it was to prevent pregnancy after conception. If she wanted an abortion she would have to find a pharmacy, and how was she gonna explain that to Daryl? How was she gonna explain she was already 6 weeks p-

Voices of men entered the store. Julia watched the group of men begin to go through the shelves, looking for food probably and they didn't seem to know they were there. And speaking of, where was Daryl?

Julia continued to hide, staying silent as she carefully begun to move backwards, away from the intruders that loudly chatted amongst themselves and she didn't really listen to anything they said until,

“Thought you said there would be a girl here?” One of the men complained.

“No, I said I saw a girl and a man heading this way.” the other man clarified.

“You claim her?”

“Boys remember the rules. There is no such thing as claiming, only free game,” another man said and all the men started laughing.

Her stomach sank, the feeling of horror had her frozen in place. These were bad people, very bad people and if they were to find her, she imagined very horrifying things would happen.

There was movement behind her and before she could make a sound, large hands clasped over her mouth. She fought against it, tried to scream for Daryl, but she was left defenseless against the strong body. The only sounds that could be heard were the men talking and moving around the store, and her panicked breaths against the hands silencing her. Then one hand moved away and she was being turned around, faced with the man she was silently screaming for… The father of her unborn child.

Daryl.

Thank God.

Julia stopped fighting against him, looking up at him with fearful eyes. The thought she was carrying his child in a world of the walking dead was terrifying for many reasons. She could tell he was scared too, though his fear stemmed from adrenaline and survival to get them out of there, because… he didn't know.

He motioned for her to stay silent with a finger against his lips, Julia nodded and his hand released. She could see him thinking of a plan, because how could they escape unnoticed, and there were many, 8 if she counted wright, all armed. But then she remembered the window in the bathroom, they were close enough to make it without being seen.

Julia pointed towards the bathroom behind the aisle of feminine products and drew a window in the air with her hands. Daryl seemed to understand what she was referring to and he nodded, leading the way to the bathroom.

With the door closed behind them, Daryl opened the small tinted window, then motioned for her to make it true. Glancing towards the trash bin before stepping on top of the toilet lid Julia hoists herself up and out. Daryl passed his bag and crossbow before following, careful to not to make a sound he closed the window shut, to not reveal their escape.

“Go, go, go,” Daryl ordered, and they rushed into the forest away from the band of men.

Hands in her pockets she could feel how the heavy weight of anxiety loomed.

The more she thought about it, which she had done all day, finding out she was pregnant felt like either choice she was left to mourn something, it already felt like she was. She didn't even know if she was ready to take care of another life even though she had always wanted to be a mother, be married and have a family of her own. But the world was far different then when she had those innocent dreams.

Daryl turned to face her, and his pause almost made her trip over her own feet. He was staring down at her, his gaze making her feel naked, like he could tell what was wrong. With that same expression when he had told her she looked pale he said,

“I don’t like that color on your face.”

And of course her face was still pale, probebully paler for him to comment about it, but she was feeling unwell for reasons she could not tell him yet.

“I’m fine, let's keep going,” she lied.

“We're setting camp here,” Daryl declared, not even bothering to call her out and began to skin the squirrels he'd been hunting along the way.

And of course Daryl didn't buy it, she was the worst of liers there was. Their close encounter this morning had scared her deeply and jumpy all around, which she also knew he had picked up on. He seemed to notice things most people didn't, but she was relieved he didn't push for the truth.

Concentrating on tending the fire as Daryl gutted the animals Julia could not watch on like she usually did. Feeling like the sight of blood or just the notion of it made her sick. It was ironic that it was first after finding out she was pregnant she began feeling symptoms.

Only when eating did the sickness stop. She had been starving all day, the feeling of having warm food in her stomach felt so, so good.

“Slow down girl, no one's gonna take it from ya,” Daryl said from across the fire.

“This is slow.” Julia said, food stuffed in her mouth and she didn't care for manners, she was starving.

Throwing the bones into the fire it didn't take long for that heavy feeling to return, and she just wished for it to leave her alone. Hugging her pack feeling terribly overwhelmed by the events of the day she hadn't noticed Daryl watching her. He moved from across the fire, kneeling on one knee in front of where she was sitting on the cold ground, and as if he was speaking to an injured animal he said,

“Julia. Hey, look at me.”

Slowly her teary eyes looked into his. His look was one of concern, and deeply so. She knew he couldn't fully understand the visual display of emotions nor the reason behind the fear she felt - he probably thought it was a response from their close encounter with the men in the store, which was parsley true. He reached out, wiping a tear away from her cheek and said,

“Let’s go to bed, okay?”

Julia nodded weekly “Okay.”

The fire was soon to burn out, the last ambers drifting off into the night. Huddling up against one another, having zipped their sleeping bags together Julia laid turned from him, letting tears fall along her nose down into the bedding. The smallest of sniffles escaped her. Daryl moved closer, pulling her into his arms, his body warm and comforting against her. Looking up at him as she stared into his blues, taking in his lovely features. He looked so soft in moments like these, she had almost forgotten what was underneath that rugged exterior and what he was capable of. His watercolor eyes looked almost like a creature that would never harm anyone, especially when he was looking at her, with all his kindness and worry.

“Way you cryin’?” He asked, gently drying the wetness away.

He was such a sweet man.. So, why was she so scared of telling him? She didn't know - she didn't know anything anymore. Her world had turned upside down, her bubble had finally burst, and she was just too overwhelmed to think straight and, and…

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” she managed to tell true the tears that just kept on coming.

She was un ugly crier, probably making him feel put off by her distraught state. But he was not put off, more so determined than anything to find the reason behind the tears, and she didn't feel ready to tell him yet.

“Why don’t you know?” he questioned further.

But the tears worked against her, not allowing her to speak.

“Yah scared?” he tried, continuing to wipe her face.

And maybe it was evident that she was, because faces said so much, gave so much away. Especially hers.

“You don’t gotta be scared no more, they're not gonna find us,” his deep voice was so very gentle.

But she could not shake the feeling, and it was as if all the terrifying experience with men tore into her like a sharp pain shooting through her chest. Shaky hands reached out, holding onto the fabrike off his chest like a lifeline, the fer poured out before she new it,

“No! They are gonna find us! And - and, they'll kill you and then they are gonna rape me!”

Only after her words came to life did she realize she admitted to a fear so deep within herself she shocked herself. She felt him stiffen to her words, his heart beating louder as he held her as if he was gonna lose her.

“No, no,” his deep voice rumbled from his chest. “Nothing like that’s gonna happen. No one's gonna hurt ya and nobodys’ gonna kill me.”

“You don't know that. Didn't you hear what they said? They said I was ‘free game and-”

Daryl moved on top of her, caging her in and his eyes looked intense making her worry she had upset him somehow. Tears spilled from the corner of her eyes down to her ears as she stared up at him. With a more serious tone he said almost darkly,

“No. Yah ain't.”

It felt like she couldn't breathe. It sounded like a confession. He didn't outright say it. But why else would he so straightforwardly denie the idea, as if the thought angered him.

Oh.

Did he already see her as is? That would explain the protectiveness, the anger and the gentleness in his touch. Her mouth trembled and the softness in his eyes returned. He searched her face before leaning down and enveloping her in a kiss. The kiss so soft she could feel the pure intentions behind it. It calmed her to the point her tears stopped falling.

Daryl pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, Julia closed her eyes as well. The feeling of his warm breath against her face was pleasant against the cold air as he said almost pleadingly,

"Please stop crying. Just tell me what to do.”

Julia couldn't help herself as her arms wrapped around his neck, and it felt like she could not word what she needed. He let her hold him close in response to her desperate need of comfort. She opened her mouth as if to tell him about the baby. But she just couldn't get the words to leave her. She was so scared. But she needed him now more than ever. His protection, his touch, his voice, him underneath her skin, but even that wouldn't be near enough.

She felt him lean into her ear, “Tell me,” he begged.

She unwrapped herself from the embrace, her hands resting on either side of his face. Gazing up at him she felt shy to say what she wanted. He was staring right back at her, as if reading her, making her feel like an open book underneath his gaze. But what she also felt was his desire hardening against her thigh. His eyes had darkened with lust, filled with that same desire they had shared last night.

He seemed to understand what she was asking for. That same pulse began to beat between her legs and she spread them apart, welcoming him. It seemed to have heightened his own desire as his lower body moved against hers and he did it so very carefully, gauging if she would stop him. But she wouldn't. This is what she wanted. All of him inside of her.

With her hands still on his face she kissed him. His tongue entered her mouth and before she knew it he had taken control, their tongues dancing and it felt like he always was in a desperate need for more. His hips rocked against her front and the feeling of his hard length had her walls squeezing around nothing. Wetness pooled like a poodle, staining her jeans and she wondered if he could feel it. His hand traveled down, cupping her mound she gasped into his mouth. She could feel him undo her jeans, assisting she lifted her bottom and with one swift motion they were pulled down and all the way off, tossing them out without breaking the kiss.

Daryl had her panting as he pulled away for the need of oxygen. She washed on as he pulled his jacket and shirt off, leaving himself in a sleeveless button down, reminding her how strong and broad he was. Just as fast his lips returned to hers and she melted into his mouth, his hand cupped her and she just wanted him inside already. It felt like he was teasing her and probably enjoying her desperate state, feeling the wetness over her undergarment. Painfully slow his hand went underneath the fabrike, thicke fingers going along her folds almost curiously at how wet she was. Just with his fingers down there it felt so good she had to pull away from the kiss and when he dipped his fingers inside of her, going for a spot she had no idea existed inside of her, had her within seconds away from climax.

She could feel him washing her, that intense feeling building and belding before it- His hand clasped over her mouth before the moan escaped her. Julia swore he had her seeing stars, feeling almost lightheaded as she came down. A kiss was pressed to her forehead and she gazed up at him only wanting more.

The unmistakable sound of him undoing his pants has her stomach flutter in anticipation, her legs spreading even wider as he moves closer to lube himself with the wetness. Just as he aliens himself, feeling his head pressed against her entrance he paused, whispering,

“You gotta be quiet, okay.”

Julia nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and before she could ready herself her promise went out the window. His hand clasped over her mouth once more, his other hand cradling her head. Entering her all the way she could feel how her walls adjust to the intrusion. It was a tight fit but she liked the feeling of him stretching her out.

Daryl pulled almost all the way out before he pushed himself inside, beginning a steady pace. Every rock of his hips had her making sounds into his hand, making him remind her to keep quiet. But how could she stay silent when he was making her feel so good.

Daryl buried his face into her shoulder, heavy breaths of pleasure leaving him. Her legs wrapped around him, sending him deeper. His breath became more laborde as she did so and she could feel him holding himself back, not allowing his own sounds of pleasure coming to life.

The hand covering her mouth was exchanged into sloppy kisses. The pace slowed for just a moment letting her breath for a moment before his hand returned and the pace of his hips as well. Pressure built in her stomach as he went faster, his breaths turning into grunts. But he kept them low and controlled. Daryl was locked in. Eyes closed, chasing after his climax. His hair had become dampened with sweat and in her pleasure she takes in his rugged, wetherd face, his masculine beauty exudes from him. Before she knew it she was on the edge of her second climax, her face turning hot, the intense feeling building up before it would explode like a supernova. The feeling was so intense she couldn't make a sound, legs shaking intensely as she went true it, feeling the wave all true her lower body, down to her feet. It was overwhelming in a pleasurable way, having her almost feeling drunk as she came down. Opening her eyes only to be met by his piercing blue ones as he continued to move inside of her. He seemed to like washing her as much as he liked to kiss her and it felt so good to be wanted.

She could see him fighting it, as if to prolong his chase. But she could see the shift behind his eyes, the primal instinct to finish burning inside of him. As if he couldn't take it anymore he thrusts his hips harder, the pace overstimulating, bringing tears to her eyes. Their flesh collided inside the sleeping bag and she worried the noises would alert nearby walkers.

With an animalistic grunt he pulled out, finishing on her thigh. Their panting breaths filled the night as he stopped himself from completely collapsing on top of her. He reached clumsily for something in his back pocket and cleaned his mess off her thigh, the aftercare sweet she couldn't help but smile.

Puting the rag away he pressed the softest kiss she had ever received from him, closing her eyes she melted into it, completely worked out and ready for bed. With an arm he pulled her into his chest, his chin resting on top of her head and this was where she felt the safest she had ever felt in her entire life. In the arms of the man she trusted her life with, that also was the man that had made her pregnant and had no idea because she had failed to tell him.

It was nice, the unintentional comfort he provided, holding her as if her world hadn't just turned upside down and their shared journey wouldn't come to an end. Because she knew when he found out everything would change and she had a feeling it would break her heart.

And that was when she decided to not tell him. That for the sake of the future, for her selfish desires for love she would simply not tell him. Under no circumstances was he to find out until they found the doctors and finished what she was set out to do. And Julia hoped he would not hate her for it, that he would find it within himself to understand.

With her ear against his beating heart and his steady breath she drifted away from the harsh reality she would be woken to. But for now she would be with the man she just began to know and love.

Pt.12 Masterlist

[briefobservationdreamer]

Ace Rep In The Hellaverse

So after watching the latest Helluva Boss episode, Mastermind, and seeing Mammon in that episode, I had some thoughts about ace rep across the two shows.

First, there's Alastor, who seems to be on the "no sex at all" side of the spectrum and is aroace coded. As I mentioned in another post, the "ace in the hole" joke was made in the context of Charlie being "too young" for him and it makes more sense to me for that to also include romance than if it didn't. He could be either repulsed or simply not at all interested.

Then, there's Mammon. I already thought he seemed to be much more favourable than Alastor in his debut episode, given he seemed fine selling sex robots of his mascots and had a couple of robot servants under his arms at one point, and this was confirmed again in Mastermind when he flirted with Leviathan. It's uncertain what kind of interest he has in her and how much of this is him possibly putting on appearances after what Beelzebub said, but he is clearly not so averse to it that he isn't open to it.

And finally, there's Octavia, who we don't know anything about yet. Something like an arranged marriage could be a good way to explore that, though. It's interesting that hasn't been touched on at all, considering how young Stolas was when it happened to him and that Octavia is now nearly of age.

And honestly, I think it's great that the three confirmed aces we have so far are clearly distinct from one another. Asexuality and aromanticism are both very broad spectrums, after all, so I'm glad they're getting explored through multiple aspec characters.

[mercillery]

Falling Devil Yandere Alphabet

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + YANDERE THEMES + HUMAN READER + MENTIONS OF CANNIBALISM + NOT PROOFREAD + AT SOME POINT I JUST GAVE UP + OOC I THINK OOPS

NOTES: I literally watched Shrek, Hotel Transylvania, and Ninja turtles 1 and 2 while making this. It’s ridiculous how easily I get distracted when writing but whatever.

A = Affection (How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?)

She may have existed since the beginning of time—I forgot whether this was implied or theorized—but I think someone like her is resistant to influence. let alone by such powerful emotions as love or obsession, or in this instance, both...

Thus, she finds herself engulfed in the boundless depths of her obsessive love for you, a sensation she embraces wholeheartedly. She revels in the overpowering emotions she feels, expressing her affection through tangible acts of care—such as babying you. You could say she embodies the role of a devoted butler or caregiver. While she also yearns to demonstrate her affection by preparing meals for you, she respects your aversion to the idea of consuming human food—since you’re literally a human yourself.

B = Blood (How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?)

For someone typically so polite and mature, she won't hesitate to spill blood in your name if necessary.

Key word: If

If anyone or anything dares to come between you and her or threatens your safety, she will paint every corner of the earth with their blood and guts. There is no force on earth, in heaven, or in hell that she will allow to endanger you or her relationship with you. So, if you wish to avoid a gruesome bloodshed, you better remove that person yourself before she takes matters into her own hands. With that being said, she takes both your safety and the sanctity of your relationship with her extremely seriously.

C = Cruelty (How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?)

No, she would not mock or make fun of you in any way. There's not much to elaborate on here. Just know that she won't make you feel bad for being so easily abducted by her. On the contrary, she’ll only express her pleasure and satisfaction that you’re finally with her. She'll gently caress your teary cheeks, her touch tender but completely dismissive of your tears, focusing solely on the joy she feels at finally having you all to herself.

D = Darling (Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?)

I have a strong feeling that she likes to baby you a lot. Do you know what this means?

This means that she'll hover over you, constantly attending to your every need as if you're incapable of managing on your own. Each morning, instead of allowing you the autonomy to dress yourself, she takes charge, dressing you in outfits she deems the cutest. It's akin to a child's intense fixation on their cherished doll, with her playing the role of the child and you, unwittingly, cast as the doll. It's a twisted dynamic where her sense of power is derived from your perceived reliance on her, blurring the lines between caregiver and captor.

To add to that, her control extends beyond mere clothing choices. Understanding your human needs, she recognizes the necessity of regular meals for your well-being. However, unfortunately for you, her culinary expertise lies in cooking humans for sustenance. Despite this, she will persistently coax you into sampling her cuisine, assuring you that it is as delectable as any other meat. But don’t worry, she refrains from actually preparing the meal unless you explicitly express a desire to try it. And should you muster the courage to taste her food, it's important that you maintain a facade of enjoyment, for the consequences of expressing your dislike for the dish she so lovingly prepared for you are dire. In essence, she wouldn’t force you to eat her dishes—but if you express wanting to try them, you better finish it all.

E = Exposed (How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?)

She's not particularly emotive, nor does she wear her feelings on her sleeve. It's not that she's ashamed of her emotions—she simply tends to maintain a cool and composed demeanor most of the time. However, since she's fallen deeply in love with you, she has no qualms about revealing the extent of her love. The only emotion she may hesitate to display around you is her anger. Nevertheless, she'll willingly show you her vulnerability.

F = Fight (How would they feel if their darling fought back?)

Honestly? The first few times you rebel against her, she'll stay composed, not lashing out at you. However, if you start fighting against her consistently…

She’ll be offended. Very offended.

She's given you all her patience, tolerance, love, and support—and this is how you repay her? By infuriating her with your constant disobedience? How disrespectful of you! She isn't one to tolerate such defiance. You've tested her limits, and now you must face the consequences. Prepare for some very strict scolding from the chef herself.

G = Game (Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?)

Absolutely, this isn't a game to her, not in the slightest. She doesn't joke about this—her relationship with you is far from anything resembling a game. She regards the relationship with the utmost importance and doesn't even entertain the thought of trivializing it as such.

You're sorely mistaken if you think she derives any amusement from watching you attempt to escape her loving embrace. Because spoiler alert: she doesn't. I'll concede that, depending on the ingenuity of your escape plan, she might be slightly impressed. However, her predominant emotions will be disappointment and frustration at your decision to flee from her and the love she offers.

H = Hell (What would be their darling's worst experience with them?)

Anytime you’re eating.

She's the sole creator of your meals—breakfast, lunch, dinner, you name it. After all, she's literally hell's chef—whose culinary prowess could possibly rival hers? Admittedly, her dishes typically feature ingredients of the human variety, but just because you're human doesn't mean you can't partake! However, since she respects your reluctance to try them, she prepares normal food for you (steak, spaghetti, soup, or whatever). Surprisingly, despite her expertise in cooking humans, her skills extend seamlessly to crafting dishes that humans typically enjoy, something you’re very grateful for! Otherwise, if not for that, you’re sure she would’ve made you a cannibal long ago.

The reason I consider this your worst experience with her is because every single time she insists on coaxing you into trying her food, persuading you to try something different, and promising it will delight your taste buds. It gets to the point of annoyance. Once, in an attempt to end her relentless persuasion, you reluctantly accept—only to discover she had prepared a rather huge meal made entirely of human flesh. You're left with the choice of either eating it all or giving it a try but then spitting it out, leading to voicing your dislike of the food she so lovingly made, which ultimately results in her extreme frustration—which then escalates to the point of endangering your life, making it an unforgettable and traumatizing ordeal.

I feel like this part didn’t make much sense. Oops.

I = Ideals (What kind of future do they have in mind for/ with their darling?)

Her vision of a future with you isn't unreasonable, at least not in her eyes. All she desires is your total and complete obedience, love, and loyalty. She envisions a time when you abandon every trace of rebellion and disobedience from your soul, mind, and body, allowing her to love and care for you without resistance. She wants to choose your outfits, pamper you with her affection, follow you everywhere, and shower your face with kisses. The ultimate fulfillment of her dream would be you finally letting go of your human morals and indulging in the delicious meals she prepares: limbs and body parts of humans.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?)

When our beloved chef is jealous, she maintains a veneer of professionalism. Well, kind of. She confronts the source of her jealousy without hesitation, but there's an unmistakable edge to her demeanor. You can sense her annoyance, even if she tries to mask it. Think of it like this: she addresses the situation directly, yet her words and actions carry a subtle, simmering irritation that makes her feelings clear.

"Excuse me, this is my partner," she'll assert calmly, her tone tinged with a hint of annoyance, her closed eyes twitching slightly in suppressed anger.

Now, depending on the response of the other person, things can unfold in one of two ways: she unleashes her wrath, using her powers to invert gravity on the offender, therefore making that person fall upwards into the sky, inevitably plunging them into the very door that leads to hell. Or she’ll opt for a warning, her tone conveying the gravity of the situation without resorting to immediate punishment.

K = Kisses (How do they act around or with their darling?)

She remains the same: polite and composed. However, some wouldn't be mistaken if they claimed to notice a faint smile on her face whenever you're around—a silent expression of her pleasure and relief at having you near. Regarding possession, it's likely evident to most people. Depending on the situation, like when she's on the hunt for humans who have the ingredients required for whatever dish she’s working on, she might have her arm firmly around your waist or wrist—perhaps to the extent that you're lifted slightly off the ground, unable to touch it anymore. She's tall, very tall, and she's aware that there will come a point where you can't keep up with her anymore, so she occasionally employs one of those long arms of hers to lift you off the ground, if only just slightly.

L = Love letters (How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?)

She wouldn’t. She strikes me as someone who watches from afar.

But the moment she realizes the intensity of her feelings for you, she won't hesitate for a second. She'll approach you directly and declare, "You belong to me now."

No matter your answer, you're hers now.

M = Mask (Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?)

Absolutely not. She couldn't care less about who witnesses her overwhelming love and obsession for you. If anyone were to dare to call her out on it, she'd simply turn her head in their direction, her eyes closed as always, and dismiss them, urging them to give you and her some space.

N = Naughty (How would they punish their darling?)

Scolding. That's her method of discipline. She'll be as stern as necessary during scoldings, but physical harm is off the table. Still, she's strict and unforgiving in her approach. You might initially believe that a mere scolding won't affect you much, but trust me, when she scolds you, you'll find yourself feeling surprisingly remorseful. She has a way of making you question yourself, leaving you wondering why you feel so guilty after her scolding is over. In short, you may underestimate the impact of her scolding at first, but eventually, it starts to hit you.

O = Oppression (How many rights would they take away from their darling?)

Honestly, she wouldn't strip away many rights from you. The only ones she'll take are your right to privacy and your right to choose your own outfits, as she insists on selecting and dressing you herself. If you dare to voice complaints, she'll simply brush them aside, reminding you that she's seen countless human bodies—after all, she literally cooks humans.

P = Patience (How patient are they with their darling?)

She's patient enough to tolerate a few complaints from you, but insults are where she draws the line. Just keep yourself in her good graces, and the chances of her becoming angry with you decrease significantly. By staying on her good side, I mean offering her your complete and unwavering obedience, love, and loyalty.

Q = Quit (If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?)

If you were to meet your demise, she'd make it her mission to avenge you and ensure that whoever was responsible for your death pays the ultimate price. She'll deliver a punishment far worse than hell itself. So rest assured, if you were to meet such a fate, she'd be seeking revenge in your name. Until she looks in every corner and crevice of the earth to avenge your death, she won’t be able to move on.

The only time I can see her actually moving on from your death is if you were to die under natural circumstances.

If you were to escape, resentment would begin to fester and swell within her heart at your sudden departure. The idea of her beloved leaving her so abruptly would fuel an ever-growing sense of bitterness within her. Each passing moment would only serve to intensify this gnawing feeling of resentment, pulling at her heartstrings with increasing force day by day. Consequently, she won't be able to move on until she finds you again. However, her motivation for seeking you out would no longer stem from her immense love but from the overwhelming resentment and anger that now consumes her.

R = Regret (Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?)

No, she doesn't experience a single iota of guilt when she abducts you. Guilt isn't an emotion she's familiar with, nor does she see a reason to entertain it. After all, why should she feel guilty? She now has the person she loves most closer to her than ever, and if anything, she's pleased by the outcome.

Moreover, she won't ever release her hold on you. You'll never be granted freedom from her grasp until the day you draw your final breath, which will likely occur due to natural circumstances such as old age, a heart attack, or any other form of disease.

S = Stigma (What brought about this side of them? childhood, curiosity, etc?)

Curiosity.

As a devil who typically sees humans as nothing more than necessary ingredients for her dishes, she doesn't usually care or think much of them. That is, until she meets you. You must have caught her eye because there was something undeniably different about you, something that sparked her curiosity and ultimately caused her to fall for you—hard. I'm talking about the kind of fall where she face-plants the floor type hard.

T = Tears (How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?)

She still doesn't feel a drop of guilt when she sees you cry, isolate yourself, or scream. The closest she ever comes to guilt is disappointment—and guilt and disappointment aren't even in the same realm, so you can already imagine how that goes. However, she won't feel disappointment toward you unless you scream; in that case, her disappointment is directed at you. If you isolate yourself or cry, she'll be disappointed in herself for making you feel this way—I guess you could say this is her own way of feeling "guilt." In those instances, she'll try to comfort you—so that's a small consolation. But if you scream, she’ll simply tell you to knock it off.

U = Unique (Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?)

My mind is actually so blank at this point that I cannot think, so please just take this: She won't ever physically harm you—not even mentally.

V = Vice (What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?)

Remember all the times I mentioned how she desperately wants you to try her food, but you refuse because eating human meat would make you a cannibal? Well, here's a potential advantage: if you tell her you want to try her dishes, you’ll surprise her. She'll enthusiastically prepare the meal, and that's your moment—it's either now or never. While she's cooking, you have your chance to make a run for it. But be cautious; she's a long-legged woman with enough stamina to catch up to you within mere seconds. So, act wisely.

W = Wit's end (Would they ever hurt their darling?)

No.

Not sure if this counts, but you know how she only targets humans if they're necessary ingredients for her dishes? Well, here's the great news for you: you're not and will never be an option as an ingredient for her. You are the only human she will never, ever consider attacking, regardless of whether you possess one of the ingredients she's seeking. Even if all the ingredients for her dish happen to be everything that you are, she will never turn to you as a food source. She'll scour every corner and crevice of the earth if necessary, but she'll never resort to cooking you. (This part was supposed to go into the unique section, but I changed my mind because it felt wrong. So if this doesn’t make sense, sorry💪😞)

Yeah, in essence, she'll never inflict harm upon you. While your worst experiences with her may have been near-death encounters, she'll never actually harm you. The most she'll do in terms of hurting you is exert a firm grip. That's it.

X = Xoanon (How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?)

She's not a worshipper, but her actions might suggest otherwise. The way she cares for you feels akin to that of a devoted caregiver. She insists on dressing you herself, feeding you, and accompanying you everywhere. It's understandable if you interpret her actions as worship, but to her, it's not about worship—it's simply about loving you that much.

And no, she's not going to any extraordinary lengths to win you over because in her mind, you're already hers. There's no need for her to go to such lengths when you're already with her.

Y = Yearn (How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?)

Y’know how I just mentioned that in her mind, you're already hers? Well, I doubt you share the same sentiment, do you? She's not oblivious, and she's well aware that you likely don't reciprocate her feelings. If your feelings toward her remain unchanged even with all her persuasions, she'll remain surprisingly patient for quite some time. What I'm getting at is that her endurance in trying to win you over during the relationship is remarkable. I can't envision her snapping at you, no matter how much time passes as she endeavors to capture your heart.

Hoping this part made sense 😗

Z = Zenith (Would they ever break their darling?)

Like I've hammered home countless times, no—not mentally, not physically, but perhaps emotionally. Remember when I mentioned how her scolding can make you question whether you're truly ungrateful for her love? Well, emotions play a significant role in that scolding too. She doesn't necessarily toy with your emotions, but she aims for you to feel at least a tiny tinge of guilt for every instance you've angered or disappointed her.

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; beelzebub

requested by ; nobody / self indulgent

fandom(s) ; helluva boss

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; beelzebub

outline ; “dating hcs for queen bee”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

sickeningly sweet on you, endlessly supportive of everything you are and everything you do, protective but not to the point of overstepping and overriding your autonomy, and so deeply in love with you that she couldn’t give less of a shit about about hell’s social hierarchy or how others may perceive your relationship as long as she gets to have you in her life — what’s there not to love about having a partner like beelzebub?

bee can read you like an open picture book and is quick to notice even the slightest change in mood whether it’s positive or negative, and she’s also a quick learner when it comes to figuring out what you need when you’re in a bad or low mood, this means that she’s always able to anticipate and meet your needs, even if you yourself haven’t fully processed them yet — for example, if you’re feeling frustrated and angry then she’ll pull you aside to somewhere more private so that you can vent, if you’re mentally overwhelmed then she can provide the means to give you what you need to calm down/ground (alone time, sensory toys, etc.), and if you’re upset and just need to be listened to and held then she’s more than willing to provide you with that comfort you’re craving

she’s a very chilled out person in general, preferring to go with the flow of the moment unless she needs to step in to help someone out, and that also applies to how she incorporates the various love languages into your relationship at large

acts of service — your favourite foods and drinks are always fresh and available in her kitchen when you come over, breakfast in bed is a consistent part of your routine, she makes use of her status to ensure that you’re never taken advantage of or belittled ever again, all of your needs are met and then some when you’re with her, and none of this is ever mentioned by her or leveraged during your rare spats because to bee these are all just things that she does because she loves you, not because she expects to receive anything in return.

gift giving — though she doesn’t really fit the stereotype of the hellborn royal, bee is still the queen of gluttony and more than capable of buying you anything and everything you could possibly want or need. she never makes a big deal about it, never flaunts her status or wealth like the other sins do, and generally acts like any other hellborn so it’s easy to forget just what she’s capable of… until you come home on your birthday or anniversary and find a shit tonne of gifts waiting for you, that is.

physical affection — she mainly just follows your lead for this love language and only goes as far as you’re comfortable with her going (e.g. if you’re touch averse then she’ll only engage in physical affection when you’ve given her the explicit verbal go-ahead or have initiated it yourself, and if you’re more the sort that thrives off of it then she’s going to be much more touchy with you). that being said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders or waist and pulling her against your side is always going to leave her smiling and staring at you like a lovestruck teenager.

quality time — unless she’s in the middle of a meeting or something like that then she’s always up for spending some quality time with you. sometimes that means planning out a proper date to somewhere outside of her jurisdiction like ozzie’s, sometimes that means making sure to spend time with you during a party (e.g. dragging you out to dance with her when she’s singing, going to a quieter place for a bit to just chat and snack without needing to shout over the music, etc.), but mostly it just means hanging out and having fun as a couple no matter where you are whether it’s in the privacy of your shared home or out and about in one of the rings

words of affirmation — positivity and praise and compliments all come super easily to her, so as her partner you’re pretty much guaranteed to have the queen of gluttony (genuinely) hyping you up and being your number one cheerleader no matter what it is you’re doing. she’s there to earnestly compliment your appearance (clothing, makeup, accessories, hair) with a flirty comment or two thrown in just to leave you speechless. she’s showing up to every event you’re participating in just to cheer you on from the crowd and proudly point you out as her partner to anyone nearby. she’s gushing over your every achievement and introducing you to others in a way that borders on bragging every time she hosts a party in her ring. she’s making comments that leave you unable to speak and hot under the collar so casually that you start to doubt whether you heard her correctly or not (but of course you did because when isn’t she flirting with you?). she makes sure that she tells you that she loves you at least once every day. etc, etc.

she has pictures of the two of you everywhere: you’re her lock screen, a photo of the two of you wearing matching outfits at one of her party’s is her homescreen, she makes sure that her voxtragram profile picture is matching with yours, she posts pictures and videos of the two of you whenever you go out together, she has a photo of the two of you from ages ago on her desk at home so that she has you with her even when she’s doing the most boring stuff imaginable, and so on

as far as pet names go, bee tends to call you either a cutesy shortened version of your name or something more casual like ‘babe’ or ‘hun’, and she’s happy for you to call her whatever you want as long as it’s not outright derogatory

[yumeka-sxf]

A chronological analysis on Twilight and Yor - Part 7

*This is part of an ongoing post series. If you missed the Introduction/Part 1, click here*

----------

After setting up the "lovey-dovey marriage kit" before Yuri's visit, Twilight and Yor look a bit embarrassed about the whole thing, which is exacerbated by Anya once again suggesting that they're flirting, and once again they abruptly deny it.

It's understandable that Yor would be embarrassed, since she never had any notable relationships with anyone besides Yuri, especially not a romantic one. Even though it's only for show, just the thought of it is overwhelming for an emotionally sensitive person like her. But why would Twilight feel uneasiness about it?

In my opinion, around this point in the series is where he starts to show that he probably feels something for Yor…not love yet per se, but maybe a fondness on a level deeper than he had with other women, especially after their recent heart-to-heart conversation. So whenever he's confronted about it, he gets jarred. Perhaps he felt a twinge of it on their first outing when Anya initially suggested that they're flirting, but it starts cropping up more during Yuri's visit. Not only do they both recoil when they accidentally touch hands (again, Yor's reaction is understandable, but why would Twilight be anything but calm about something so minute?) but when confronted with having to kiss, his initial reaction is not what you'd expect from a spy who's wooed women before. At first he's shocked, then he has to take a few moments to regain his composure, telling himself that he's faked relationships with dozens of women and that it's just a kiss.

I'm sure he's kissed at least some of those women for one reason or another, so wouldn't he be used to it by now? Why would he have to go through a whole spiel in his head just to make himself do it again? It's also worth mentioning that at this point, he doesn't yet know that Yor has such a strong aversion to stuff like this, so that wouldn't be a reason for his hesitation.

But despite his internal misgivings, Twilight switches back to his composed Loid Forger mode and agrees to go through with the kiss. Yor, on the other hand, having never experienced this level of intimate physical contact, is completely flustered. It's debatable as to what stage her feelings for Loid are at this point – she definitely likes, trusts, and respects him wholeheartedly, and perhaps is even starting to feel something more for this man she's only known a short while yet he's given her comfort she's never had before. But unlike Twilight, who responds to emotions he doesn't understand by quickly reverting to his stoic spy persona, Yor responds in the exact opposite way...by becoming an utter emotional wreck.

When Yor intentionally gets herself drunk just so she can handle the whole situation, Twilight realizes how uncomfortable she is and tells her she doesn't have to do it if she doesn't want to. This is, once again, another example of him being a decent guy who tries his best whenever possible to consider people's feelings even if it conflicts with his missions.

But when (drunk) Yor insists, he decides to just let it happen…much to Yuri's dismay. When Yuri's shouting inadvertently snaps Yor out of her drunken state, and she realizes what she was about to do, she reacts the only way she knows how when feeling such intense, confusing emotions – with (often misdirected) violence.

Soon after, as he watches the interactions between Yor and Yuri as the latter takes his leave, Twilight comments on what wonderful siblings they are and how he admires their dedication to each other.

While he seems to be putting on his Loid Forger act here, we find out that it was not a total lie. Later that night, as he's sitting in his room, he reveals that he actually was feeling envious of the Briars' sibling bond. He can't remember the last time he felt envious of someone, envy being one of many other feelings he cast aside when he decided to become a spy. As I mentioned before, Twilight prefers not to think highly nor poorly of others, only seeing them as a means to better his missions or gather information. As a result, negative emotions, especially envy, have no place in his heart…and yet, he's suddenly feeling just that.

Not too long ago he found himself wondering what it would be like to have a family, and now he's feeling envious of a familial bond? As we'll find out later on, something in Twilight is already changing even if he won't acknowledge it.

Continue to Part 8 ->

<- Return to Part 6

[kestrel-bee]

I just finished ISAT, and. Wow. I am in shambles after Act 5 holy FRICK

Okay, now that I’m done, time to dump all of my thoughts out at once, because I NEED to talk about this game holy crap

(spoilers abound from this point, don’t read if you are interested in playing for yourself)

(CW for discussing religion-related struggles with sexuality, if that’s something that bugs ya)

Okay, for starters, I just want to talk about how well executed this game is.

The gameplay was interesting and not too hard to understand while still being unique and fun, the illustrations and art style was really cute and charming, the character designs are recognizable yet creative, the writing is entertaining and made me love all of the characters in a very quick fashion, and the story overall was just FANTASTIC.

Literally my only complaint is that i had a tricky time adjusting to how sensitive the controls were when walking. Maybe it works better on desktop, but I was playing on the Steam Deck, and the only other platform I can play on is Mac, which this game does not support.

But honestly this ended up being a nonissue, I figured it out pretty quickly and after an hour or so I had the controls down to pat.

I also love how they handled the concept of a time loop, and the slow descent of Siffrin’s mental downfall. The way he started getting so desperate at the end, clinging to every scrap of hope he could find was heart wrenching.

Act 5 was KILLER, omg, I was so wrecked over it I had to take a break to calm down 😭

It’s not often a piece of media evokes THIS much emotion out of me, holy crud.

To talk about some of the characters,

I LOVE me some found family fluff, and boy oh boy was I fed, they’re so wholesome, they’re all so skrunkly 😭

I loved the little snippets of representation in these characters, with Odile being mixed race and attempting to connect to her roots, and Isabeau’s very trans-coded backstory. And yk, the multitude of gays and lesbians throughout the game XD

Even though that kind of representation doesn’t resonate with me personally, I still like to see it.

But oh man, Mirabelle’s cutscene in Act 3 hit hard. I myself am aroace and religious, and marriage was always something I felt was expected from me.

As I got older and realized that romantic attraction wasn’t really something I feel for people, I tried to convince myself I was attracted to a good friend of mine who had a crush on me, which obviously didn’t work out.

I’ve always had a hard time identifying with womanhood in the way my church has always portrayed it as, so having Mirabelle talk about her faith related struggle with her asexuality and identity was such a comforting representation for me.

Another thing, I can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, but I love how neurodivergent coded they are?

Like, we have Siffrin, kinda touch averse and quiet,

Odile who doesn’t like change and needs her routine alone time to recuperate after every floor,

Mirabelle and Isabeau, the funny noise appreciation squad, the hyper-empathetic duo who would always get over hyped over things together,

And while I can’t think of a specific example for them, Bonnie is always there matching Mirabelle and Isabeau’s energy.

Not to mention the frequent amount of times the latter 3 would repeat each other (echolalia) when saying something fun or happy. (Like the “Pie Smell!” candle).

Do these things on their own make them neurodivergent? No, but the way they’re consistently written like this feels very intentional and I love it.

Anyway, whoof, that was very long, but TLDR: this game was PHENOMENAL, and I will be recommending it to everyone I know

[autisticandoddlyspecific]

Spinel x Touch-Averse AND Touch-Starved Reader

Except I missed the point of these bullet point type headcanon-y posts and went ham.

There are some small details about "reader" here because spoiler: it's also author. lmao. But it shouldn't be too much if you're already down for this post based on the title.

SFW, 2nd person(you, your, yours), gn reader but it wasn't exactly intentional. gender was just never relevant in any of these points. No pronouns except for the 2nd person ones used for reader.

Spinel is careful with you when you tell her you’re touch averse. She’s used to expressing affection physically, and pretty often. It took a little getting used to when you two became more than just casual acquaintances, but she got the hang of it eventually.

You had a bit of an understanding. While neither of you just dumped your life story on the other when you first met or anything, she made a comment hinting at being inexperienced with friendships and you told her you could relate to an extent.

She understands when you just stick by her side or stay in the same room as her when she’s not feeling great, but sometimes she feels she really needs someone to hold her or to hold onto.

She cried when you handed her your favorite plushie to snuggle one of those evenings. It’s yours. Not just that, but it’s your favorite one. It was almost sort of a piece of you, and you let her hold it!

It makes you consider bringing around that plushie in your bag whenever you hang out with her, even if it wouldn’t be needed every time.

That being said, there were more ways you were there to comfort or bond with Spinel than just physical proximity. You’d listen to her, talk her through her emotions when you knew what to do, and give her advice. You’d even play music or sing, even if you’ve never done that for someone before.

Spinel also grows to know a bit about being there for folks, even if some of it came from you.

To be fair, she also went and talked to gems at Little Homeworld to see what she could learn about emotions so she could be a better friend to you. She ended up getting a lot better at listening from it.

Sure, you aren’t the only person who benefits from her newfound skills, but you are the main benefactor and reason for this.

You eventually make something like a friendship bracelet you’d expect to give or be given in middle school, but sized up, and made to be held at its ends by two people.

You can’t help the warmth in your chest as she visibly gains more spring in her step after grabbing it, even if she tries not to react too much, still not wanting to make it seem like the limited touch isn’t enough for her.

To be honest, by that point you and Spinel are super close, and she couldn’t imagine any lack of touch making her not want to hang out with you.

The feeling she gets when you’d smile, or when you two would tease or snark at each other until the both of you were literally on the floor laughing– well, it almost worries her for a second, remembering back when she’d idolize Pink and want nothing but for her to smile and be happy, but Spinel can tell it wasn’t quite the same. You were real friends. You are equal and you both knew it, and treat each other as such. You both stick by each other. This is mutual, and it makes Spinel feel so full of love and life that she feels she could poof(fortunately she didn’t).

The feeling you have is maybe a bit more. You didn’t really expect to start crushing on her, but now you can’t escape the often elated and fuzzy feelings you get whenever she says or does just about anything. It’s like you’ve always known each other. You figure it’s best to wait and figure out your emotions, and wait for a good time to mention it, if you ever even want to. Only time will tell.

One day, you and Spinel are hanging out, and you can’t stop staring at her hand. You’d had a bit of a long week, but it was nothing too serious– still, you’re some kind of tired. Her hand is just on the table. She moved her hands occasionally but right now her hand’s just resting on the table.

To say you grab her hand is a bit of a stretch, as it’s just your fingertips on the back of her hand with what feels like a literal featherlight touch… at first.

Everything stops. Spinel stops talking and just stares, but doesn’t move. With a look of what mostly reads as aggressive concentration, you grab her hand and examine it like it’s some kind of science project. The touch isn’t painful, but you feel it just as intensely.

You hold her hand in your own hands almost like it were a child. You haven’t made eye contact since you reached your hand out.

“Hey, uh… what are you doing?” Spinel sounds uncertain. “Are you okay?” You can feel your eyes starting to burn.

“It’s not burning,” You answer, making no eye contact and speaking low in a smoother voice than you usually did; it seems like if you aren’t careful and slow with your own emotions you’d just burst into tears and be incoherent. Spinel seems to get what you’re referring to.

“I think…” You croaked, “Even if touch was uncomfortable with almost everyone, that doesn’t mean I didn’t need it. That I can’t be touch starved.” The tears are blurring the edges of your vision. Your hands are shaking. You think you can hear Spinel make a sharp inhale or something similar.

“It’s okay,” She stammers, at your volume, “I get it. The touch-starved thing, I mean.” You knew that. “You can hold my arm.”

You’re not sure the way you cried seemed “normal” but that was never an issue with her. She’s safe enough to touch. You’ve no reason to care in that state, really.

“So, what feels comfortable to touch?” Spinel asks. For now, it’s hands and lower arms, or her hand cupping your face if you have her arm in your hands, but that tends to be a bit emotionally overwhelming.

From that moment, you could never be fed up with her touch – even if it’s pretty much just hand holding and hand holding but weirder – but you’re not ready to do much of that in public. It feels like your trademark almost, like seeing you touch somebody was weirder to people than literally any of the gem related stuff that’s happened since 6,000 years ago.

It’s not the most logical thought, but you’re both willing to take whatever time is needed.

Whenever you two are alone, you’re practically attached to each other by your arms.

You hold her hands in yours. Just standing facing each other in your home, her left hand in your right and her right in your left. It was a pretty normal day just a minute ago. Looking in her eyes, the tears welled up in yours.

“I know I don’t have to be normal,” You sniffle, “But it just feels… refreshing.”

Her face is dusted with a darker fuschia, you’re blushing up a storm. When you look at her, her eyes show understanding and fondness you never see from people. But even moreso, you feel like you see more than her. It’s like seeing the whole universe in her eyes. That’s when you realize you’re in deep.

She makes a playful jab at you “being normal” as your new career path, and you act offended like you, and it’s back to having a normal day. But you know you should seriously consider this.

WOW! I don't think I've ever got the ideas out of me head with such efficiency while still liking what came out. I noticed how much longer and bulkier it is than the normal xreader post but I can't rely on myself to make it into an actual story that I enjoy writing and that I feel reads well, and I figure that there's no real harm in just throwing out these ideas even if I do end up just taking this whole thing and making it into a fic as is, just with more plot/words/idk lol. Fun fact: the google doc that I wrote all this down on is titled: "ZOMG SPINEL KISSES!!!! <3<3<3 >~<"

I might make a continuation, I might not. Who knows, really. Also, should I post this on AO3 as is, without "fleshing it out" more? Would that be alright? And should I keep the bullet points or get rid of them. I'd love any feedback on anything in this post!

[thelunaticghost]

xvn fic recs !!

i have been meaning to do this for a while : mostly because fic recs are fun to compile and also thee seems to be a BIG shortage of any fic rec posts!! so here are some fics i have enjoyed over the years!! ofc this list is non exhaustive please note the ratings of each fic and heed the tags before reading! sorry, that i am putting in the shorter summary

anyway!! feel free to put in more fic recs too!! :D

End OTW Racism | over the edge of all our knowings by merthurlin [ G, 10,146 words , 1/1 ]

Years down the line, after the whole business with Lumine and her brother has been concluded, Venti decides to go on a world tour. He sends Xiao letters.

merthurlin got me into xiaoven so ofc my list starts with her fic! this is just so so sweet and even if its not necessarily fluffy there is a warmth to the writing it is a comfort read for me! i recommend every work by her (regardless of fandom). though in xvn End OTW racism | never dreamed of nobody like you is another excellent fic!

nocturne by yanrans [ T, 34,540 words, 4/4 ]

In which Venti sells magical music boxes, Xiao is his unwitting customer, and there is absolutely, definitely nothing more to it at all.

modern au where venti is - a scammer? - i mean a music box seller and xiao is just a regular guy and and. its funny and delightful and absolutely breath taking. i wouldnt elaborate more so as not to spoil anything further but the fic has many unexpected surprises in it! yanrans is another writer i definitely recommend to check out more! their writing style is very flamboyant and poetic.

what hides in neon shadow by morii_tea [ T, 7,547 words, 1/1 ]

In which Xiao is a cyborg, Venti is a thief, and the glittering city of Teyvat hides more secrets than they’re prepared to find out.

its so rare to see morally grey venti is potrayed (even though he isnt v morally grey but still. xiao having to remembering that venti isnt as honourable as he appears is yesssss wohoo). this fic has some thrilling action and a v fun cyberpunk world!! i wish it was longer but it is v exciting nevertheless

every morning in the dark by magicites [ M, 77,124 words, 34/34 ]

Stuck in a time loop where he succumbs to his karmic debt, Xiao struggles to see the point in moving forward. Venti struggles to save him.

READ THE TAGS!!! character death and suicidal thoughts are two major warnings. but DAMN this fic it's just so. SO FULL of everything WRONG with xiao!! and venti too but such a GREAT angst fic!! it gets everything so Right. magicites also happened to have written one of my most favourite genshin fic too :] and if you havent read her other works!! you are missing out!!

the half-life of the yaksha is absolute by GStK [ G, 1,000 words, 1/1 ]

Venti digs his thumbs in to keep open the wound but it is too late His gaze snaps over to the teal essence dancing over Xiao’s fingers. Now all those words will belong to him And Venti will belong to him, only.

READ THE TAGS!! now that i have went into the time loop fic ofc i have to mention the beautiful corrupt xiao prose. the imagery is flowery and grotesque!

foreigner's god by smallghosts [ T, 3,818 words, 1/1 ]

Lord Barbatos falls asleep for a few hundred years. Xiao copes with his absence in strange ways.

a pre-canon fic where xiao becomes - in a way - a worshipper? it's SO GOOD. its about the yearning!!!!!!!!! SCREAMS i dont think i have to explain further

love me like you do by Limerancy [ T, 3,000 words, 1/1 ]

They aren’t the kind of friends that touch.

TOUCH STARVED AND TOUCH AVERSE XIAO!!!!!! this fic makes me a lil bit feral. a little unhinged. i absolutely enjoy reading about the yearning , the desire JUST!!!! AAAA. this writer also writes v fluffy modern au one shots!!! so be sure to check them out too :)

The Kissing Tree by Princeliest [ G, 7,581 words, 2/2 ]

Venti kisses Xiao, and Xiao does not understand why.

VENTI COMMITMENT ISSUES!!!!! as much as i adore reading xiao angst, venti angst is still something i love seeking out and its a tragedy that its not explored enough in this ship :c but anyway!!! such amazing characterization and exploration!! princeliest is one of fav genshin writers and this fic delivers!

wishing on dandelions all of the time by OedipusOctopus [ T, 8,270 words, 1/1 ]

When Venti first catches sight of the swords artfully hung on the wall of his new roommate's bedroom, he regrets putting up the sublease on Craigslist. Firmly believing this guy is a total weirdo, Venti is more surprised than anyone when he realizes the total weirdo is actually adorable. It's not against some invisible Roommate Code to dream about kissing your roommate, right?

ofc there is a classic roommate au fic!! this was one of my most favourite fic from last years xvn week: its hilarious and silly and just a perfect relaxing read!! the characterization and their banter is so entertaining i admit i have read this multiple times!

Where Words Fail by kavvueh [ T, 27,926 words, 11/12 ]

"You're Barbatos," Xiao repeats breathlessly. The young man in front of him nods. "Yep." "But..." Xiao cuts himself off and tries again. "You're the God of songs and poetry." The Anemo Archon nods his head sagely. "More or less." Xiao fixes Lord Barbatos with the most incredulous look he can manage. "... You're failing Music Theory."

this fic is such a delight!! it has some light background lore, some silly shenanigans, miscommunications, pinning - a truly fun mixture! the fic is v light hearted but written with a lot of tenderness. i am v excited to see its conclusion!

what queer sins stain thy soul by Anonymous [ M, 3,232 words, 1/1 ]

In which Xiao, long-established asexual, learns that identity is not as stable as he’d like to believe.

there is some explicit things in it (in non explicit way) i believe religious guilt is one of the best flavouring to xvn. it is an under-explored area in this ship imo and this fic not only has that but also!!! asexuality !!!!!! this fic so so personal and its exploration of desire that gets to me a lot

unholy virtues by morphasia [ E, 17,065 words, 6/6 ]

In exchange for his body in more ways than one, Venti summons a demon to reclaim something that has been stolen from him. It's a just contract. That's all it's supposed to be. That's all it was ever supposed to be.

READ THE TAGS!!! this fic truly went creature/creature. this au is just so fascinating and funny in a twisted way (but not bad). this fic isnt for everyone though but it is definitely worth the shot.

[spocksbrainworms]

I know a lot of people have pointed out how shitty it is that we didn’t learn Captain Batel’s first name until way late despite her literally being one of the first characters on screen in SNW. But I haven’t seen anyone really explain why other than “female character not given name :( #feminism”

imo it’s because up until she became a romantic interest she wasn’t really a character beyond being an extension of Starfleet. Every time she shows up she is there to demonstrate Pike’s aversion to the red tape,regulations, and obligations of Starfleet and what it demands of its people. You could argue that her willingness to do her job prosecuting Una despite her relationship to Captain pike shows her professionalism but at the end of the day that’s not what a professional would do.

A professional would step down and say they were too connected to the case to continue. This is a regular thing that happens in our legal system so the idea that Starfleet wouldn’t have rules outlining something like this is ridiculous. She’s not there as a professional, she is specifically there to make it harder for Chris and to increase the tension to the detriment of her own character.

And she only starts getting developed in any noticeable way other than her dedication to her job when she becomes more important to one of the male leads.

Does she work for the advocate general’s office? If so then why is she captaining the Cayuga? What is her role and why should we care? Why is she able to just bounce around anywhere she’s needed? Is it because she’s incredibly specialized so they need someone of her rank for this mission specifically? Is that why she couldn’t step down when prosecuting her romantic interests best friend? No. Because she isn’t developed. She’s only there as a vessel of Pike’s narrative so she only shows up to create drama for him.

Even when she says “if you can’t fix it take me out” we’re not emotionally invested in her possible death until Pike says “I’m not giving up on her” because her own death isn’t about her. It’s about what it means for him.

Not to mention that after she says that line, Pike sees her walk off then immediately undercuts her word. As Chapel’s boss, Pike has put Chapel in the position of “do I follow her word or his” and we’re supposed to be touched he cares so much when really he’s just put her wishes not to hurt anyone under his own selfish need to keep her safe. He takes away her agency and in a way, her bodily autonomy. She doesn’t say that because she wants to die but because she’d rather die than hurt others and, whether Pike realizes that or not, could be her dying wish. And he undercuts her immediately and does it when she is presumably out of earshot.