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endthedream · 1 year ago

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hygge

pairing: model!niki x photographer!reader

summary: meeting at a time where the both of you need a supportive person the most, a beautiful friendship (or more) rises from similar struggles.

words: 6k

story colour: gray

notes: I know this story is shorter than the other ones but I still feel a bit awkward writing about Niki. I tried my best tho and hope all of you can enjoy this story! <3

masterlist of 'enhypen as jobs'

Hygge

noun

a quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being (regarded as a defining characteristic of Danish culture).

If there was one word your father would describe you with it would be ‘vivacious’. You have always been full of life, walking around with a smile on your face and appreciating the small, little things in life. He called you a ray of sunshine, touched by the angels, and graced with the gift of never-ending happiness. He said you were his inspiration, his muse, his realization of how magical the world can be, and how there is always good in bad. He said you were everything he ever wished for in life.

He used to tell you stories about his travels around the world, places that he captured with the lens of his camera and people he remembered in his heart. Your father told you everything about the world, the cultures, and the unimaginable love he felt when he visited those places. How inspiration was at every corner, how he could see beauty in the tragedies of the world and how everything he felt changed him. He was just a little boy, when he thought he knew the world he never even saw before, but when he came back, he was a man, full of knowledge and respect.

One place he still carries deeply in his heart is Denmark. Not only because it is a beautiful country, so full of wonders and stories, but also because there was one thing he learned from his visit, one thing he still carries with him. ‘Hygge’ is what it is called. A word he now lives by. A word with a greater meaning that inspired the way he was thinking. Hygge is finding happiness in the little things in life. He was the one that taught you from when you were a child that happiness is made out of those small little moments rather than just grant events, finding magic in the ordinary, commonplace, imperfections. You think that he was the one that turned you into the vivacious person you are today.

Your father stopped traveling the world when he met your mom, but his love and passion for photography stayed. He sent his pictures to every agency, working his way up until this point. Until he started taking pictures of the most famous people in the world. It’s not something that he originally wanted or planned, but it is definitely something he enjoys. Because instead of traveling to meet people around the world, he invites them to his studio and takes photos of them. He has met dozens of people without even having to leave town.

It’s been two weeks since you ‘officially’ started working for your dad. You have been helping him at his studio ever since you can remember, and when he offered you to work for him full-time, you couldn’t say no.

Much like him you love photography, always taking pictures of everything and everyone. It has become your thing, your passion as well. And while working at your dad’s studio isn’t the kind of photography you originally wanted to do, it is a start that will hopefully take you far. Like him, you want to travel the world, appreciate every single country and capture everything you see with the lens of your camara. You want to have a blog where you can post those pictures and write about the experiences you have during your travels. You want to inspire people to follow their dreams, to pick up a camera and express themselves, to find who they really are. You want to be able to close your eyes, take a deep breath and know that the moment you open your eyes again, the view that will wait for you is worth every single dollar on this planet.

“You are daydreaming again.”, you can hear the voice of your father right next to your ear, making you snap out of your thoughts and turn around to him. He is grinning from ear to ear, arms folded.

“Sorry.”, you say, showing him a sheepish smile before looking back into the computer right in front of you, showing a picture of a woman who came in her just two days ago. “I am almost done with editing though. How do you like it?”

Your father leans down, eyes skimming over the picture for a few seconds before looking at you again. “I like how you enhanced the colors of her dress, but I think it’s too dark. We wanted to go with a more tropical, summery vibe and now it looks like fireworks on a stormy night. Brighten the picture and see what you can do to get rid of the white dots in the background.” You never said working for your dad was easy. He is your loving, kind, devoted father, but he is also a businessman. He knows what looks good and what doesn’t and whenever he takes the pictures, he has an exact vision of how it has to turn out.

“Oh, and we also got a last-minute photo shoot for tomorrow. I think this is your chance to show off your photographer skills.” In an instant you spin around in your chair, eyes wide and mouth hung open.

“What? But dad, I’ve never taken professional photos before. What if I mess up the shot and you will get a bad reputation?” Until recently, photography was a hobby to you, just capturing small things you saw while taking walks, taking pictures of your friends and family or sometimes even creating abstract pictures, but never have you ever done it professionally. Not with an expensive camera or twelve lights around you or with a model in front of you. God, especially not with a model that has probably high expectations in you.

“Y/n, sweetheart, this is a good opportunity for you. And I will just be two rooms away, if you struggle or have any questions, you can always get me. But you will never make it if you don’t step over your own boundaries. How will you travel the world and capture everything with a lens, when you can’t do it right now? That’s how you learn it and that’s how you grow within it. Don’t see this as a challenge, see this as an opportunity to come out big into the world of photography.” It’s quiet for a moment, you taking the time to think about your fathers’ words and your father taking the time to study your face. He knows that this is a big step for you, but he needs to push you over your own boundaries and help you over the fear of failing.

“Okay, yeah, okay, you are right, dad. I can do this. Who will I have the photoshoot with?” Placing one hand comfortingly on your shoulder, your dad smiles proudly at you. You love that look on his face, the love and pride radiating from it. It fills you with joy and the determination to always give your best in every situation. It has made you turn into the efficient and hard-working person you are today.

“His name is Niki Nishimura. He is a model from Japan, and I thought that this would be perfect for you since the two of you are the same age. I think that you will be able to hit it off perfectly.” There is something in you that stops for a second. You have heard of Niki before from girls in your class, have seen the covers of magazines he is on and commercials on the tv. He is popular, well, more than that actually. Niki is the face of the most well-known brands, walks on fashion week catwalks and on top of that is known for his sweet and polite personality. He is the whole package, and you are going to meet him tomorrow.

“Are you okay?”, your father asks you after you’ve been silent for a while. “Do you know Mr. Nishimura?”

“Know him?”, you say, voice suddenly rising. “Dad he is so popular. Everyone knows him. How do you expect me to do a photo shooting with him when he has literally been on every single magazine I see? How am I supposed to keep my cool when he walked for fashion week in Paris? Dad, this is a huge responsibility, I can’t do that.”

“No, you cannot change your mind now. Y/n, what happened when you said ‘Yeah, dad, you are right. I can do this. Thank you for giving me this wonderful opportunity. You are the best dad in this whole world, and everyone should be jealous because they don’t have such a kind, loving, fantastic, talented, handsome father like I do.’”, he says, mimicking your voice in a high-pitched tone, and you can’t hide the small grin on your lips.

“First of all, that’s not how I sound. Second, you are so full of yourself.” You dramatically roll your eyes as you let your head fall into your arms. “And third, that was before I knew the photo shoot was going to be with the freaking Niki Nishimura. This changes things, dad, this changes things drastically.”

“Y/n, stop being so hard on yourself. Famous or not, that boy is still a human being. He is the same age as you are, so don’t think of him any differently. This is the first lesson you have to learn in this kind of work. Celebrities are humans too. They are just known by more people, but they go to the toilet like you, and they probably also do dance parties in their room late at night when they think their dads are asleep.” Your cheeks turn red as you hear the last sentence, not having known that your dad actually heard you dancing late at night in your room before. But before you can open your mouth and defend yourself, your dad continues. “They are like you and me, sweetheart. So, don’t worry, okay? If anyone can do this, then you. I believe in you, with all my heart.”

Your hands are shaking as you set up the camera. The lights are already on and directed right at the boy in front of you, who is currently watching you with attentive eyes as you fiddle around with the tripod. You were aware that Niki is known for his respectful personality, but when he walked into your dads’ studio, you didn’t expect him to be this… shy. He really seemed like a little boy who lost his parents in a supermarket. Niki was barely able to mumble a quick hello to you and tell you his name.

“Are you ready?”, you ask him, looking up at the boy who quickly- almost as if he was caught doing something wrong- looks down at the ground, nodding his head. “Okay, I’m just going to fix this light, since I think it makes you look to pale, and then we can start.”

Without waiting for an answer, you walk over to the softbox, changing its position a bit.

You are so caught up in your head that you get startled as you hear the boy in front of you start to talk. “Your hands are shaking.” It’s a simple sentence, a simple statement, but it makes you stop in your tracs. You look up at him yet again, noticing that he has taken off the sunglasses he has to wear for the shoot. There is something in his eyes- softness, you think- that makes you feel comfortable, less nervous.

“Yes.”, you stutter, clearing your throat a few times. “I’m nervous. This is my first time doing a real photo shoot, and I’m… just terrified that I will make a mistake.” Niki just nods at your words, taking a few seconds to look around the room, which gives you time to take in his outfit for this shoot. You haven’t really looked at him closely, not wanting to make him uncomfortable in any way.

He wears an all-black outfit, black slacks with a black shirt underneath a black blazer. The red and white collar of his shirt gives the outfit the finishing touch, hinting just a bit of color that is needed to compliment him. He looks amazing, dashing, like he is out of a movie- a James Bond movie probably. And you realize you have never seen a more gorgeous person in your whole entire life.

“I’m sure you will be doing just perfect.”, he says, giving you a tight-lipped smile at a thumbs up. You have to scoff slightly at his try of encouragement, showing him the same tight-lipped smile, before continuing to change the position of the softbox.

Somehow your hands are even more shaky as you stand in front of the camera again, your breaths come in shallow, and your vision become blurry. You have to close your eyes for a few seconds, trying to calm yourself down, trying to remind yourself that it’s just a photo shoot and that Niki is just a normal boy. But it doesn’t work, your mind is spiraling with all these bad thoughts and can’t stop them from coming over and over again, attacking and breaking you into pieces.

“Hey, are you sure you’re fine? You look like you are about to faint.” You hear Nikis’ voice, but it is somewhere in the distance, you can’t grasp if it is miles away or right beside you. The world starts turning and you really think you might actually lose control over your whole body.

“Yeah.”, you can hear your own voice, but you can’t feel your lips moving. “Just… just give me a second.” You stumble backwards, eyes still closed and somehow you land right on your behind. You don’t open your eyes, still too afraid of how your surroundings look. You don’t even flinch when you feel two hands taking yours.

“Listen to me, okay? Just follow what I am saying.” There it is again, Nikis voice. There is a mix of concern and determination in it, but you don’t have time to think about that any longer. “Breath in, and out. Again. In and out.” You continue this pattern for a few minutes. Niki guiding your breaths and you following his orders. And you can slowly start feeling yourself calm down.

When you open your eyes again, the world has stopped spinning, your heart beats at a normal speed again and your hands stopped shaking. Niki is sitting beside you, watching you carefully. “Thanks.”, you just mumble, letting out a long and deep sigh.

“No need to thank me.”

There is a comfortable silence surrounding the two of you, and for a moment you forget that there is someone sitting right beside you, until Niki speaks up again. “Did that happen to you before?”

You shake your head, letting a hand glide through your hair. “No, never. I think I was just worrying too much about everything that my body just couldn’t handle it anymore.”

Niki nods slightly, eyes fixated at a point in front of him. “I used to have panic attacks all the time. Before photo shootings, before catwalks, before pretty much anything.” You look at him as he speaks, seeing the pain on his face as he remembers past moments. “I was nervous, terrified of messing up, of not being good enough, of failing every single person in my life. Those thoughts never left my mind, and I did not know how to stop them. I felt helpless, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it, afraid they might laugh at me or think I am a pathetic little boy.”

“What did you do to change that?”, you ask him, attentively listening to him and hanging onto every word that was coming out of his mouth.

“Well, I started believing in myself more. Because why would people book me for modeling, if they didn’t think I was good at it? I started telling myself that I am good enough, that I made it this far, because I am good at what I am doing. Believing in yourself is always the first step to a healthier mindset.” You watch as he nervously picks at the skin on his fingers, before continuing. “And then I started telling myself that we are all just tiny little humans on a tiny little planet in this big universe. Why would I waste my time caring about my looks, or the way I walk and talk, when nothing of that is important? I mean, it is important, but you know what I mean. It seems like nothing compared to the universe. Why should I care about the opinions of others, when I will probably never see them again in my life? Why would I give my precious time to people who will just waste it, if I can surround myself with nothing but happiness? After all, we are all just little humans having dreams and hopes, having a life of our own and chasing one thing. Happiness.”

There is a silent tear rolling down your cheeks as you hear his words, but you quickly wipe it away before he can notice it.

“And then I started to talk to people about my thoughts, and it helped so much. Other models told me about their worries, about their problems. And suddenly, I didn’t feel alone anymore. I felt understood, like someone tuck me into bed with a warm blanket and kissed my forehead.” There is a short moment where you both smile into the distance, caught in your own heads, before Niki directs his gaze back at you. “I’ve seen your dads’ work, that’s why I wanted to come here and get my pictures taken by him. And when he told my agency about you, his prodigy daughter, I knew that if a person as talented as him recommends you do the photo shoot with me, then you must be just as talented as he is. When I saw you today, saw the way you took so much care of the equipment and about every single person on this set, I knew that I wouldn’t want anyone else to take photos of me. You just have to believe in yourself more, trust yourself and your abilities and stop the spiral in your head. Stop thinking and just do what you love to do.”

“So, I went up to him and told him to get lost. I mean he is famous, yes, but that doesn’t give him the right to treat other people like that. Especially since my dad was having a photo shoot with him. Like be grateful that at least someone is taking pictures of you.” Niki laughs at your story, long having forgotten the hot chocolate in front of him. After your panic attack, Niki proposed a little break, so you took him to one of the best cafés in town.

“It’s so good that you gave him a piece of your mind. Sometimes fame really gets into peoples’ brains and they start thinking they are above anyone.” You nod your head, smiling at him widely and taking a bit of the cake you ordered. You close your eyes, enjoying the different flavors melting on your tongue. And when you open your eyes again, you find Niki staring at you, a fascinated look on his face. You show him a questioning look, swallowing another bite of your cake.

“I find it fascinating.”, he says, fork poking his own cake. “The way you seem to soak up every single small thing in life. Just a second ago, you looked like you were soaking up the flavor of this cake with your whole body. On the walk here, you stopped walking just to watch a bee on the flowers of the flower shop we passed by, and your eyes were actually sparkling. And it’s the way you talk about things, especially your dad. You have this way of making me feel like I was actually there with you throughout all your little stories. It’s just fascinating how much someone can enjoy life and all its little wonders.”

There is a faint tint of blush slowly creeping up your cheeks and you quickly try to hide it by covering your face with your hair. “Do you know the word hygge?” Niki shakes his head at your question, waiting for you to continue. “It’s a word from Denmark and it basically has the meaning of enjoying the small things in life and finding happiness in them. I learned it from my father and been living by it all my life.”

“That is so beautiful.” You can feel the air shift. Niki lowers his head, fork dropping beside his cake. “Sometimes I feel like my life is moving so far. I have to be somewhere new every single day. I rush from one place to another without having time to appreciate the stuff I get to see and do every single day. Everything moves so quickly, and I feel like I can’t just be a simple kid, living a simple life. I have to be a mature role model who knows everything and behaves perfectly at all times. I had to do that since I was fifteen. And it’s just… exhausting. Sometimes I just want to stop time and be… me. I want to appreciate things, stuff myself full of food until I’m nauseous, play pranks on my friends without being titled as mean. I want to act goofy without being called childish, even though I am still seventeen.”

Sniffling down your tears, you reach over to grab Nikis’ hand. “Listen to me, Niki. You are the bravest, most talented, kind-hearted person ever. Life isn’t treating anyone fairly, but we should not let that decide our whole future. If you really want to enjoy life to its fullest, then do it. Take a break, talk to your management or something like that. If you really want something, you can always get it, if you want deeply want it. People will always have something they won’t like about you, because they are jealous and miserable, but just remember that you don’t know those people and you never will. So, don’t let them decide who you are, and definitely don’t let them have power over who you want to be. Life is too short to waste it, and we won’t stay young forever. It’s important to enjoy every single little thing before it is too late.”

There is a single tear rolling down Nikis’ face, but he catches it with his thumb before it can land on the table. He takes a few breaths, calming himself down, before looking into your eyes again. He shows you a sad smile, the hand that is still holding yours squeezing in an appreciating manner. “Thank you so much for telling me all that. You don’t know how much this means to me, Y/N.”

“Don’t thank me for something like that, Niki. I just said what you needed to hear a long time ago.” A few seconds of silence fill the air, Niki just looks around, trying not to think too much about your words. He doesn’t want to tear up yet again. “Okay, before any of us will start bawling their eyes out, how about you finish your cake, and I will take you to a cool place?”

Nikis’ eyes widen at the scene in front of him. The towns autumn festival is known for being breathtaking, decorations of pumpkins, leaves and mushrooms everywhere, a fairy’s wheel laced with moos and fairy lights, games you can play at every corner and a big campfire where people laugh, talk, sing and grill marshmallows. Niki doesn’t know where to look first, his eyes trying to take in every single little thing at once, before eventually landing on you, again.

“This is, wow, Y/n, this is the coolest thing I have ever seen.” You smile brightly at him before tugging on his sleeve, silently telling him to follow you. You walk up to a stand selling waffles, smiling at the elderly guy.

“Hey, Mr. Kim. Can we have two waffles, and please give them a bit of extra chocolate sauce, my friend here has never tried your waffles before.”

“Y/n, my dear, anything for you.” Niki and you both watch as Mr. Kim prepares the waffles, adding sprinkles on them and even an extra amount of whipped cream. Before you can take out your wallet to pay, Mr. Kim shakes his head violently. “No, it’s on the house. You have never brought a friend here before. Enjoy the waffles, okay?” With red cheeks you nod at the kind man, taking the waffles from him and walking to a free table with Niki.

“So, you never brought a friend here, huh?” You can hear the teasing tone in Nikis’ voice, but you are too ashamed to look at him. It’s not like you never wanted to bring a friend here, but it just never felt right. Friends weren’t really a permanent thing in your life, having had too many bad experiences with them. And whenever you had a friend that you started to trust, you always felt like they would destroy this magical festival for you. But with Niki it was different. You just felt so comfortable with Niki, so understood. Niki is different than anyone you have ever met, and after his confession earlier, you just knew that you had to share this with him. You had to share this beautiful place with him.

“I never really had friends. Whenever I did, they only seemed to like me because my dad is somewhat known. They wanted to get some fame as well. So, I just stopped looking for friends. You are the first person I feel like could actually like me for me, you know.”

Niki smiles at you, for the thousands time today, taking a bite out of his waffle. “I already do like you for you, Y/n. And I really appreciate it that I am the first person you bring here. But I just want to say that, wow, these waffles are amazing. I feel like I’ve been kissed by an angel, like I am at the beach hearing the waves softly crash against the sand, like I am floating on a cloud, like I am a changed man.” You laugh at his words, holding your stomach and tipping your head back. Niki watches you, eyes trained on your face, and he realizes how much he loves being the reason for your laughter. “Like I want to marry this waffle, that’s how good it is. And then we have little waffle children running around, spreading sugary joy all over the world. And then me and this waffle will watch those waffle children grow up and have waffle children themselves. We will sit on the porch, in little rocking chairs and watch our waffle grandchildren play in the front yard.” Tears are flooding down your cheeks from laughing at his words. There are people staring at the two of you, but you don’t care, you just live in this moment together.

“And that cloud looks like a cat eating ice cream.” The sun is setting painting the sky in different shades of pink and yellow, as you stop at the top of the fairy’s wheel. This is your third time riding the fairy’s wheel, not caring about the amount of money you are spending on it. You subconsciously hug the unicorn plushie Niki has won you earlier- after at least twelve tries- tighter to your chest as you look up at the sky with him.

“Oh, and that cloud looks a big popcorn bucket.” Rolling your eyes at the boy sitting beside you, you can’t help the grin that creeps itself up on your lips.

“You are so bad at this, Niki.” He just chuckles at your comment, eyes focusing on you again. “It’s not a popcorn bucket it is obviously a dragon drinking a cup of Pepsi.”

“Okay, this is the first one that I cannot see, Y/n. How is this a dragon? It is just a big blob, nothing more.” Gasping at his words, you shake your head in disappointment at his lack of creativity.

“How could you say that about Mr. Dragon. Has he done anything to you? No, he hasn’t. He is just enjoying his Pepsi, and you are insulting him like that. I cannot believe you right now.” Niki tips his head back in laughter, wiping at his eyes.

“Thank you.”, he says between laughs, voice raised a few pitches higher than normally.

“For what?”, you ask him.

“For this day, Y/n. This has been the coolest day ever, and all that thanks to you. I never had so much fun, I never laughed so much and so hard. I swear my belly and my jaw hurt from laughing so much.” There is this happiness, this pride, filling your heart as you hear his words. You have never felt this way before, never had someone tell you such sweet words, and thanking you for company. You swallow your tears, blinking a few times up into the sky, before you can face him again.

“You’re welcome, Niki. I hope that you can have many, many more days like this one in the future with a lot of people all over the world. Because that is what you deserve.”

“Well, I hope I can have many more days like this as well with you, right? After this day we won’t just pretend we never met, we won’t just become strangers, right? This day will lead to an amazing friendship that will last until we are old and gray, right?” You smile at him, scooting over to him and softly taking his hand in yours.

“Of course, Niki. I won’t let you leave. You are stuck with me now.” You grin brightly at him, squeezing his hand appreciatively.

“Oh, no. I take back what I said. You scare me.”

“Nope.”, you say. “No take backs, Niki. This is only the beginning.”

“So, if you are that confident in our friendship? Will you do the photo shoot with me now?”

“Those photos are amazing, Y/n. God, I am so proud of you. You did everything just as I imagined it to be, even better actually. I knew you could do it.” Your father wraps you into a tight hug, holding you against him and a bright, proud grin on your face. Pride fills your entire body as you hear those words out of your father’s mouth. You have been editing those pictures, making them perfect, for the past few days, night and day, and knowing that it turned out amazing, was worth all the stressful hours.

“Thanks dad, but I don’t want to have all the credit. Without my muse I wouldn’t have been able to pull everything off.”

Your dad breaks the hug, giving you a stern- not serious- look. “Your muse, huh? I heard Niki and you got really cozy at the autumn festival. You can’t fool me; I have eyes and ears everywhere. I tell you, before anything he becomes your boyfriend, I want to formally meet him first. I want to know everything about this boy and then I will decide if he can date my precious daughter.”

“Dad!”, you complain, cheeks redder than the tomatoes your dad is growing in his garden. “It’s not like that. I mean not yet. We are friends, dad.”

“Yeah, but if, sweetheart, if he becomes your boyfriend, I want to meet him first.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Let’s just get out these photos.” With one last smile in your dad’s direction, you walk back to your desk, the pictures of Niki still on your screen. But before you can do anything, your phone ring tone breaks the silence in the room. Smiling as you see Nikis’ contact, you open the text message he sent you, seeing a picture of him at a zoo somewhere in Japanese with the caption ‘Enjoying the little things right now and thinking about you. I’m already counting down the days till we meet again’.

Holding the phone to your chest, you can’t help but grin like a lovesick idiot. Life is great, it’s hard and exhausting sometimes, but it’s great. And you can’t wait to continue enjoying the small little moments it gives you with Niki by your side.

Bonus

“Only three more days.” Nikis’ voice says through the speaker of your phone as you look at the screen of your laptop.

In three days, it will be the fifth time you and Niki will attend the autumn festival in your town. It’s already been five years since you met, five years since you grew up together and five years since you started to enjoy the little things in life together. It still feels surreal to you, having him by your side for such a long time now.

“Three more days till I see you again, Y/n.” The excitement in his voice is evident and it warms your heart, fills it with so much appreciation for the boy on the other side of the planet. Niki is currently in Paris, attending his last fashion week for this year, and you are in Thailand, one of the countries you always wanted to visit. You have taken thousands of pictures, talked to hundreds of people and learned so much about their culture. It has been a dream, these past few weeks, and you wouldn’t trade this experience for anything in this world. But part of you misses your home, misses your dad, and misses Niki. You had one of the greatest times of your life, but you are ready to go home again.

“I can’t wait to see you.”, you say after a while, closing the laptop, grabbing your phone and sitting down outside on your little balcony. “God, I’ve missed you so much, you don’t even know.”

“Aw.”, he coos. “Are you getting emotional my sweet tiny little baby.”

“I take my words back.” You can hear his laughter through the phone, smiling at the familiar noise that became your favorite sound over the years. “But all jokes aside, I really do miss you, Niki.”

“I miss you too.”, he says, sighing softly after his words. “But it’s only three more days, right? We did five months before, so we can easily do three more days.”

“Those three days feel longer than the five months though.” You wrap your jacket tighter around yourself, slightly shaking in the cold evening wind. It’s times like this that you long for him the most, that you wish he was by your side. Traveling has shaped you in so many ways, helped you find who you really are and taught you so much about the world, but it also made you realize how much you value having a fixed place to stay, to settle down. It made you realize what you really want.

“What are you thinking about right now?”, Niki asks you, shifting from his position on his hotel bed. You can almost imagine him, messy hair, make up stains still left on his face and his SpongeBob pajamas on.

“You, I’m thinking about you. And us. Our future.”, you answer him honestly, eyes raised up into the deep blue sky.

“This is only the beginning.”, he whispers, voice low and deep with emotions. “This is only the beginning of our forever together, of our hygge together. It’s crazy to think about that sometimes, you know. The fact that we came into each other’s lives at a time where we needed it the most, and the fact that we made it so far. It’s crazy, but so indescribably beautiful. I can’t wait for these three days to pass by Y/n. And I can’t wait for every single day to pass by with you by my side. This is only our beginning, Y/n. And I already know where we can start together.” Niki stops his sentence, taking a small breath, making you anticipate his next words. “In Denmark.”

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constellationguy · 4 months ago

Text

Another perspective

Episode three

"Text": regular talking

'Text': regular thinking

"Text": Saiki talking telepathically

'Text': Saiki thinking

ATTENTION! You might want to rewatch episode three of The Disastrous Life of Saiki K before reading to fully understand the events.

Summary: Episode 3 in L/N Y/N's perspective.

Previous episode

—————————————————————————

“Who’s ready for another tre bien trick by me! Master illusionist Uryoku Chono! Hey pink hair join the fun. I’ll do a trick to put a smile on that face!”

“No thanks, I’ve already seen it.”

“Oh I see you’re a sceptic! But once you see my show you’ll become a believer in my powers to amaze!”

‘Is he really going to ignore me the whole time? In that case, can I leave?’ Y/N thought to Kusuo. ‘No, if I have to stay so do you. We’re only going to watch so he leaves me alone’ Saiki thought back. ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this but alright.’

“Right! I hold here an ordinary cardboard box. As you can see it’s empty inside.”

‘From this angle you can’t see the bottom, we don’t know that’s it’s ordinary.’

“But watch! Just a couple taps and it’s party time! Aren’t they amazing folks?” Most of the audience clapped as doves flew out of the box, say for Saiki and Y/N.

‘I always wondered how you could get those doves to behave and stay quiet during that trick, maybe I’ll never know,’ Y/N shrugged.

“Hey there kid, tre bien, am I right?”

‘It’s not “tre bien” if anything I’m worried about that dove’ Saiki thought towards Y/N.

‘Okay now you ruined that surprise for me. Sure you can easily see through the trick but the surprise and smoothness of the illusion is still impressive,’ Y/N huffed at Saiki.

“And now ladies and gentlemen, please turn your attention here, for the main event of our show! My super illusion! Magically teleporting for one box to the other will be my lovely assistant Micheal!”

‘Lovely is a strong word,’ both Saiki and Y/N thought.

“And drum roll!” Chono was making an odd pose while he vocalized the drum roll. “La la la la!” Mused Chono as he threw confetti.

‘Okay this is awkward now. Tell me why I couldn’t leave again?’ Y/N thought to Saiki perplexed.

“Alright let’s open the box! Three, two, one. It’s party time! Tre bien!” Micheal didn’t come out of the box, instead he came out from underneath the table connecting the two boxes.

The group that was standing there walked away, even Y/N started to walk away, too tired to appreciate the faces Chono was making, but Saiki grabbed their arm before they could get too far.

“Why should I pay you for ruining the illusion?!”

“I moved at the normal speed, it was your darn pattern that got too fast. Now you hand over that 500 yen.” Micheal commented back.

“No one tipped me for this performance so I couldn’t pay you even if I wanted to! Hey, why are you hanging around?” Saiki pointed towards Chono’s hat while still holding onto Y/N making sure they wouldn’t walk away.

“What? Oh, you want to give me a tip? Haha I could never take money from a kid. The look of joy on your face is- PICO!!!!” Chono only realized his dove was still in his hat after he took it off.

“I completely forgot she was up there.”

‘You’ve done your thing, let’s go now,’ Y/N said while trying to walk away but was still held back my Saiki.

“So you weren’t trying to tip me, you were trying to remind me. Wait does that mean, that you’re a magician? That’s how you knew she was up there! With instincts that good you must have hated my show. Maybe I’m not cut out for magician game after all.” During this Y/N tried repeatedly to walk away but was still being held back. ‘I’m not the one being spoken to so why do I have to stay?’ Y/N whined internally.

“Until a few months ago I was just your average office drone. Then I made a small mistake.”

‘Let’s go. I’m gonna miss my soap opera at this rate! And how does a small mistake get you fired anyway?!’ Y/N whined at Saiki.

“Corporate fat cats laid me off. And my wife skipped town.”

‘Is it too late to walk away?’ ‘Maybe but I don’t really care.’

“With no job I couldn’t pay the mortgage anymore. One little mistake and career, wife, and home had all disappeared. And then it dawned on me. I should become an illusionist! Ya!”

“Wait what”

“Because so many things in had vanished from my life I thought it must mean that disappearing them was my talent!”

‘That’s a stretch,’ ‘Your only talent is self delusion,’ Y/N and Saiki thought towards each other.

“So even though I’d been offered another office job I turned it down to start my new life, doing street magic!”

“Again what?”

“If I can save up one million yen then I can buy a sawing a body in half trick. Then my wife is sure to come back!”

‘Okay, normally I would find this entertaining but this guy is sad and delusional and I’m missing my show.’ Y/N thought generally.

“But then I wonder if I chose the wrong path.”

‘Yes. Yes you did. Now quick street magic and get a real job.’ ‘You sure you should be just thinking this, this guy needs to hear it,’ Y/N thought back to Saiki.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to get so gloomy,” Chono said, finishing his back story.

‘Look he still hasn’t said a word directed towards me, if I’m lucky he’ll forget my existence. Now let me go!’ Y/N again struggled to leave.

“Let’s get back to your background as an illusionist and how you knew I had a dove up there.” Chono said continuing the conversation. Saiki decided on his next move and put his bag out I front of him.

“Woah, gonna pull something out of your bag? You’re gonna pull out, a dove! Well I’ll have you know I can do a bowling ball.” Saiki then reached inside of his back and pulled out Chono’s assistant, Micheal.

“That’s impossible!” Chono said while falling to the floor. “Ya, ta fricken da, can I go now?” Y/N said, a little annoyed.

“Thank you. Now I can see, if your talent was hair yours would be a flowing main and mine would be just an eyelash. Make me your apprentice!!” Chono said bowing deeply. “Does that make Micheal my apprentice by proxy?” Y/N joked.

“Yay! I can afford soup!” Micheal said holding some coins behind Y/N and Saki that he probably found in Saiki’s bag.

—————————————————————————

In the L/N residence, Y/N was baking coffee cake while the TV was running some random program.

“TONIGHT! You will whiteness a miracle! A stupendous, amazing illusion preformed by the former homeless man turned master magician, Uryoko Chono!” “Now that’s tre bien!” The TV spoke loudly in the house so Y/N could hear it from the kitchen.

“Holy shit!” Y/N ran to the living room, tripping and almost falling in their way. ‘That’s the guy from the other day! How is he on television now?!” Y/N thought, rightly shocked.

“After losing it all he became a street magician and mastered tricks that others can only dream of!”

“What tricks are they talking about? The show I saw was pretty lame,” Y/N thought aloud.

“What I’m attempting tonight is the most dangerous escape you’ll ever see!” Chono said gleefully, the screen then showed what the trick entailed.

“As you can see folks, Chono’s hands and feet are both shackled as me makes his way to the crate. Oh no he fell! He’s safely inside the box, and with that Mr Micheal, Chono’s formerly homeless assistant will lock him in.”

“Wait I’m not ready!” Chono’s nose was bleeding! Now he’s banging on the box!

“The amazing Chono needs to escape within 5 minutes or he’ll be destroyed right along with this box!”

“Why is he trying to be the next Houdini?! He’s gonna get himself killed! I can’t watch a man die on screen, I’m going back to baking,” Y/N said anxiously.

“He’s got three minutes left to escape!” Y/N tried to tune the TV out as they turned on the mixer to make the frosting for the coffee cake.

“Two minutes! Just two minutes left!”

“There’s been an accident! This isn’t part of the show! Chono is burning alive in that crate! We’ll preopt the rest of the show until we can save him.” Y/N almost fell again running to their living room. “How could he survive this?! Why is the show still running?!” Y/N said flabbergasted.

“Times up! Mr Micheal will now use the swords! 17 swords to go!” ‘I know he’s probably escaped by now but damn is this stress inducing’ Y/N thought while checking on the cake in the oven.

“This is the last one folks. How could anyone survive this?!” ‘No one could, except maybe Kusuo’ Y/N thought absently.

“Now a construction crane is hoisting the box thirty meters on the air! And dropping it!” Y/N jumped a little while finishing icing the cake when the box hit the ground.

‘Glad I’m not there in person, I bet the stress of watching this in person is way worse,’ thought while sitting down on their sofa to watch the end of the special.

“That box has sustained catastrophic damage but we still have more in store for it! We’re lighting it on fire!!” ‘Okay that’s a little much, wasn’t it already on fire earlier?’

“And now we’re running over the crate… WITH A STEAM ROLLER! ‘Gosh that’s loud, wouldn’t want to be anywhere near that thing,’

“Chono’s box is as flat as a pancake, how could he survive that? Hold on, who’s that I see?! It’s the miraculous illusionist himself, Uryoko Chono! He’s alive!!!!!” The crowd cheered and Y/N let out a sigh of relief.

“Well folks that sure was some first rate escape artistry” “Tre bien right?” “Hey, stick around for what’s next! The world premiere of a mystery called ‘Love Fantasy’, my character will try to uncover the mystery of his girlfriend’s death! Enjoy the show!” The camera then fades to a commercial.

Out of nowhere Saiki teleported into Y/N’s living room. “Oh shit, are you good?” Saiki was still covered in dirt from his escape.

“Ya, just wanted to pick up some coffee jelly,” Saiki said while walking towards the kitchen.

“I just made coffee cake if you want some, but shower first before serving yourself a plate, I just cleaned up.” Y/N said while turning to Saiki.

“Fine fine,” Saiki said, turning around and walking towards the stairs. “Just pick whatever from my closet, we wear the same size clothes anyway.” Saiki gave Y/N a quick thumbs up before walking up the stairs.

—————————————————————————

“Guess what I’ve been summoned. If I told you why I’d have to kill you Saiki, but for now let’s just say the world is in store for some pretty big changes.” Kaido said to Saiki before walking away.

“What? Did he make a friend?” “Oooo, we should follow him! I feel like being a little nosy today, come on!” Y/N said to Saiki before dragging him behind them to follow Kaido.

“Thurisaz, isaz, hagalaz,” a suspicious voice spoke from beyond the door Kaido knocked on. “Sowilō, gebō, fehu,” Kaido said back. “Ehwaz, you may enter.” the door then opened.

“Okay, I know we just got here, but what the hell was that?” Y/N whispered to Saiki, he only shrugged in response.

“I hope no one has followed you, the jet back wings.” “Not to worry Jade eyes, I’m-”

“Wait! There’s something you forgotten” “I’m sorry sir, you’re right. An energy field surrounds this room, if one doesn’t perform the holy grail ceremony within 66 seconds, they’ll vanish!” “That’s right”

Y/N could only hear Kaido clap then say “Laguz”, ‘He did something funny didn’t he? I wish I could see this,’ Y/N thought.

“So have you come to terms with the truth?”

“It’s not that easy for me. It’s like everything I’ve ever knew was a lie! You say in a past life, I was a top soldier in Dark Reunion. But then after discovering their plan to sort man kind, I stole the mystical stone Panalyze, and went rouge. And then when they cornered me, I performed the phantom technique and became a disembodied soul! And then I entered the unborn body of Shun Kaido?! It’s not easy to believe all that!”

“You seem excited by it” “I’m not really!”

“That’s fine. So long as you’re realizing the truth.” “I have always left like there’s something different about me from other kids.”

“The powers of the spirit within you are absolutely vital to destroying Dark Reunion. That’s why we’ll do what we can to help you regain your memories.” “What we? Who else is here?” Kaido asked while looking around the dark room.

“There are four others at this table besides me. Of course, they are all phantoms. I take it you dont see them, if that’s so, you have no chance to help us.” “No, no, I see them fine! They’re just not here physically right?”

“Ah yes, they are here in spirit but not body like myself. Unfortunately they don’t trust you.” “Why’s that?!”

“Because you haven’t yet presented the sworn ally absolution.” “Oh, I got that right here,” Kaido said confidently.

Y/N could hear the other person taking something from Kaido’s hand before saying “Woah, such detailed answers! It’s everything we’ve expected and more from the jet back wings! With this they’re sure to except you into the group!”

‘So ghosts have clicks now? Geez,’ Y/N thought.

“Great! If that’s all it takes I’ll be-”

“Stop!” “What?” “Mannaz, ingwaz, wunjō!” “Um, what was that?”

“Dark Reunion has found out about this room. We’re under attack!” “Attack?!” “They just killed the four phantoms,” Y/N could feel Kaido’s fear from beyond the door.

“What?! Phantoms can die?!” “Yes even phantoms can be killed, if we want to make it out of here alive, we need to act. Now we need to create a barrier.” “Ya, sure! So what do I do?” Kaido asked worriedly.

“Well first things first. I need you to put any and all metal objects on you into that special bag. Metal can interfere with the barrier magic.” “Right!”

“Even change?” “Yes! You know what- just put your whole wallet in,” “right.”

‘He sounds a little to excited to be swindled like that,’ Y/N thought that was odd.

“Great now repeat my movements” “okay!”

“Ansuz, jēra!” “Ansuz, jēra!”

“Ehwaz.” “Ehwaz!”

The room then feel silent, it took a lot of strength for Y/N not to laugh in that moment.

“Looks like we got io the barrier just in time.” “Ya that was close.”

“Now it’s time for us to go home.” “Oh okay! Then can I have my wallet back?”

“The barrier is still unstable. It’s much to risky to remove it from the bag.” “But it’s got my train pass-” “thanks for your help friend! If it was for you, I would’ve died today with the phantoms! Jet black wings, you our savior!”

“Oh, sure no problem.” “Come back same time tomorrow. And keep doing the sworn ally absolution.” “Yes” The door closed then Kaido walked away.

“Those guy’s stupid fantasies are the best thing ever! He couldn’t tell the absolution was my homework. All I had to do was play along with him! I even got the idiot to give me his wallet. Hehe Dark Reunion? Thanks for doing my homework delusioner HAHA!”

Suddenly the lights turned off.

“What the- who did that? AAAAAAA”

The next day.

“Don’t tell a soul okay? This meeting involves the fate of the world. Uh it’s open? AH what’s going on? THATS THE LOGO FOR DARK REUNION! Could it be their only one step behind me?!”

‘Pretty much’ Y/N thought while watching them from behind the corner.

—————————————————————————

“What’s wrong Kaido? You afraid of the water?” Teased Nendo.

“Nu- no, t-that’s not true! I know how to swim jerk. I’m not afraid of the water.” Kaido’s tone of voice wasn’t very convincing.

“AH water-” Kaido then fell dramatically and was splashing harshly.

“I’LL SAVE YOOOOOOU!”

Y/N then looked over their shoulder, ‘I know that butt.’

“Yo, it’s Hairo!” “Oh hey Nendo! Hey Saiki.”

“You getting some sun too?” “Actually, I volunteer as a lifeguard.”

“AH IM DROWNING!” “I’LL SAVE YOU!” Hairo then ran off again.

“I can’t believe he does this job for free in this heat. Hey, when are you gonna get in the water buddy?” “Just forget I’m here,”

‘Maybe I should forget I saw them,’ Y/N thought briefly.

“You guys are no fun! I don’t want to go swim the the ocean all by myself! So! To the ladies!” Nendo said with a smirk.

‘Never mind. This job can wait, this is going to be funny,” Y/N thought while turning off their metal detector.

“With a face like that you don’t have a chance!” “Why don’t you try walking on water instead? You’ll have better odds at that.”

“Oh ho ho. My looks don’t matter. It’s about attitude.”

“I’m sorry, I find your face repulsive.” “are you joking? There’s no way I’m giving my number to that face. “Ever hear of a mirror? You should look at one before leaving the house.” “AAAAAA DON’T RUN AWAY!” Nendo said while running after the girls.

‘Wow that was harsh. But even from this far away I could tell he was staring that their chests,’ Y/N thought with little sympathy.

“Girls are stupid”

“Well arent you just a little cutie pie!” “I love his spiky hair! Don’t you?” “Hey, stop touching my hair,” “Hey, come over to our spot!” Nendo then stood over the three of them with a very intimidating face.

“Oh I just remembered I have to move my car?” “Ya, me too!”

Y/N then had the perfect view of Nendo barring Kaido in the sand, they laughed quite hard at that, then got back to work.

“Where’d my bro go? Bathroom? Saiki?! You going pee pee?!” This almost started Y/N’s laughing fit back up. Y/N then turned away, put their headphones back on and continued metal detecting.

“I ROCK!” ‘Wonder what that’s about, probably nothing,’ Y/N could hear Nendo’s shouting but chose to not think anything of it.

“WOOOOAAAH” when Y/N turned around again the spotted Nendo “walking on water”. ‘Now that’s not something you see everyday.’

“Thanks for saving my life. Sorry I joked about how ugly your face is.”

“I’m glad you didn’t ask for her number in return for your heroics.” “I try to be a gentleman, but if that hotty fell in love with me, I’m not gonna turn her down.” “She wouldn’t” “WHAT’D YOU SAY!”

When Y/N was packing up the group finally spotted them.

“Hey it’s buddy’s friend! What’s that?”

“Ya and why are you not in a swimsuit? We’re at the beach.” Kaido asked confused.

“Oh this old thing? It’s a metal detector, my uncle has this whole business finding things that are lost in the snow, sand, and even underwater! He sent me out to do this job for him, I was able to find the client’s phone not to long ago.” Y/N smiled brightly.

“And for the swim suit thing, I didn’t think I wasn’t goin to go deep in the water so I thought shorts would suffice. Funnily enough, I think these shorts are Kusuo’s” Y/N laughed.

—————————————————————————

“Hairo, you got tan.” “Ya I volunteered at the beach as a life guard.”

“You’ve got a crush on someone?!” “Teruhashi is this a joke?” “Is it one of us?” “It’s someone I ran into over vacation. It was the 6th of August when I first fell in love with him!”

“I remember seeing you that day too. And the guy you were talking with, was Nendo!” “YOU ARE WAY OFF IDIOT! Ah uh, ya! His name is Yuriof Idiot. He’s a Russian exchange student, you should get to know him!”

“Hey Saiki. Just me or is Nendo acting weird today?” Kaido asked. “You’re the one being weird.”

“Like usually he’s always saying “we should do stuff after school buddy”” “He is quieter than normal.” Saiki agreed.

“Oh my look? Don’t worry about it, it’s a long story.” Kaido said while covering his eye covered by an eyepatch. ‘I wonder what his excuse is first dressing like that, but maybe Nendo acting different than is more interesting than Kaido’s story,’ Y/N thought.

Nendo made a couple dejected faces, did an odd form of sighing then left the class. “Pretty fishy right?” “My interest has peaked.”

“Alright -alright I’ll tell you. It all started-” “Hey! I heard you saying that Nendo was acting weird. Do you mind me tagging along to figure it out too? It sounds pretty interesting.” Y/N was able to interpret Kaido before Saiki got too annoyed at him speaking.

“Oh! Uh, sure, indubitably!”

“His house isn’t this way. He’s got something going on.” “Oh maybe!”

“Why are you two so excited about this? And better yet why are you so good as tailing people?” “Oh hush, you want to know about Nendo acting weird too right?”

“Saiki, L/N, check it. What’s Nendo looking at?” Nendo was making a creepy face at a little girl.

“Creepy” “creepy” “creepy”

“Nendo has a thing for little girls?!”

“This doesn’t look good. We should probably call the police.”

“A little quick to make assumptions but if it turns out that way then ya, we should do that.”

“He’s walking into a store! Looks like a flower boutique.” Kaido said a bit confused, Saiki was making a face that matched Kaido’s tone.

“Don’t tell me he’s got a girl-”

“No not Nendo” “No not Nendo”

“Ouch”

“Another one! That’s just gross” Nendo made another face towards a little girl.

“We’ll confirm it after we call the police,”

“Ew, ya.”

“No! We need more proof than this. I mean list of people like sun flowers. And it’s natural to smile when you see and cute little kid right?”

“I guess.”

“Good point. Let’s not be brash.”

“Hm another shop. Cakes! WOMAN AND CHILDREN CAN’T RESIST SWEET TREATS, SO WHEN YOU COMBINE A WOMAN AND A CHILD YOU GET A LITTLE GIRL!”

“Now you’re just jumping to conclusions,” Y/N agreed.

“I MEAN HAVE YOU EVER SEEN NENDO EAT THAT?! OR LIKE FLOWERS?! IT’S ALL MENT TO BE GIVEN TO SOMEONE, BUT HE HAS NO GIRLFRIEND TO GIVE THEM TO. THAT COULD ONLY MEAN THAT THEIR BAIT! AND THAT HES USING THEM TO LURE AWAY LITTLE GIRLS!”

“I think that anyone that works on has their own problems.”

“Bummer, they were all out if shortcake. Oh well, it’s not like anyone will ever eat this.”

“If it’s not for eating it must be bait” Kaido and Saiki said in unison.

“NENDO! YOUR SECRET’S OUT! HOW DARE YOU HURT LITTLE KIDS, YOU MONSTER!”

“Wait what secret? You mean my dad?”

‘I’m honestly surprised he didn’t think more about that accusation’ Y/N thought.

“So he’s dead?” “I visit on the anniversary of his bus accident.”

“But the flowers and the cake…” “respectful offerings for the dead. It’s normal to bring cakes and flowers to a family grave.”

“To think Nendo is lecturing us on normal.”

“That’s fair, I bring flowers and the favorite snack of one of my family friend’s to their gravesite.”

“When did your dad die Nendo?” “Well it was before I was born, he died trying to save a little girl who ran in front of a bus. Huh, maybe that means he was into little girls.”

“I hope not haha,” Kaido laughed nervously.

“That’s a dark joke.”

“So if he died before you were born, he must have been pretty young.” “He was only 18 or 19 years old. Here look! I’ve got his picture.”

��Hey this is just a picture of you!” “Nah it’s him! My mom says I look more like him each year, weird.” Nendo said sentimentally. “You don’t look like him, you look the same!”

“Are you okay Kusuo, you look like you’ve seen a ghost haha.” Y/N joked slightly but got a little more serious when Saiki’s face stayed shocked.

‘You haven’t developed a new power since you were like five, you better not have just developed the power to see ghosts.’ Y/N thought while looking at Saiki concerned.

“Hey wanna go get some ramen?”

“I know my powers are literally super natural, but personally, I don’t believe in ghosts. So I’ll pretend today at the graveyard never happened.”

“Is that really the best thing to do Kusuo?” Y/N laughed a bit, before following Saiki’s eyes to his mail box.

“It’s for me. Weird. I never get mail.”

The letter read “Kusuo Saiki, I know you have psychic powers.”

“What.” “Oh dear.”

—————————————————————————

Next episode

#kusuo saiki x reader #saiki fic #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki kusuo #saiki x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #the disastrous life of saiki k #saiki no psi nan #saiki k #kusuo saiki #kusuo x reader #x gn y/n #x gn reader

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the-travelling-witch · 1 year ago

Text

𝐀𝐂𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄

summary: when the mysterious guy coming into the coffee shop asks you to join him for a concert, you hardly believe your eyes when you meet him there

pairing: idol! childe x student! barista! gn! reader

warnings: suggestive at the end, otherwise fluffy

modern au series || genshin impact masterlist

Working part-time in a coffee shop wasn’t half bad. Sure, as with every job in the service sector, some people just didn’t know how to behave themselves but there were also just as sweet interactions. Your co-worker also made stressful situations a whole lot more bearable, always ready to help you out if needed and handling even the grumpiest customers with ease. Besides all of that, as a college student basically running on caffeine, getting some insight into the business was an added plus as well.

As you got ready for your morning shift on a Wednesday like every other, you greeted your colleague and surveyed the almost empty shop. A few people were typing away at their laptops, others were reading and a steady amount of customers with to-go orders came in. Nothing out of the ordinary, really.

About half an hour in, you were asked to take care of the register while your co-worker went to restock some stuff and things were going well, no fumbling with cash or mistyping any orders. The only note-worthy event of the shift was when a guy dressed in baggy clothes, a bucket hat, a mask and sunglasses came in. If you had to guess he was about your age but it was hard to say with his entire face obscured. Not thinking too much about it, you concluded you had seen weirder characters before.

Until you met him again on your Friday night shift right before closing time. This time again in an all black outfit, shaded glasses on even at that time of the day. Same thing on Wednesday as well. But when you asked if that guy was a regular you had never met before, you learnt that he’d only started showing up recently and that nobody knew much about him except for that he talked the bare minimum while being polite and leaving a generous tip from time to time. He also never showed up during rush hours, only when the shop was relatively empty.

Friday, like clock-work, he was back and when he ordered you couldn’t suppress the cheeky “One iced Americano for the mystery man” that slipped past your lips a little too quickly. The first few heartbeats after, you were terrified you had offended him, that he’d ask to talk to your manager and you’d get in big trouble for being out of line.

But then he started chuckling and pulled his mask down as he leant forward onto the counter. Hooking his pointer finger around one temple of his sunglasses, he slipped them partially down his nose and your first thought was what a shame it was to hide a face like that. Eyes as blue as the ocean and teeth as white as pearls, he looked like someone straight out of a novel, who should not exist in real life. And without his mask muffling it, his voice was smooth and melodic and it made you want to hear more of it.

“The mystery man thanks his cute barista,” he mused, lips curled into a playful grin. And then, this guy had the audacity to wink at you before sliding his accessories back into place, taking his coffee and sauntering out the door as if nothing happened. Meanwhile you were still blinking at the glass he just disappeared through.

It was just one sentence yet it was enough to pull your thoughts back to the beautiful stranger. Sure, he might not have meant anything serious by it but he called you cute for crying out loud! On more than one occasion, it had you burying your face in your hands at the memory.

So, much to your delight, the next times he stopped by, when he came up to the counter to see you working there, he always pulled his sunglasses down and generally talked more, not necessarily about himself though. It was your co-worker that informed you the guy only did that when you were working the counter, never with anyone else, and that statement had no right to give you as many butterflies as it did.

“So,” blue eyes sparkled down on you as you handed him his change, “I’ve been thinking. And I realised I hardly know anything about the pretty face behind the counter. Quite the shame, don’t you think?”

“Well, uh…” you awkwardly laughed. Pointing to your name tag, you said, “I guess you know my name already… I really don’t know what else to share.”

“Aw c’mon, don’t sell yourself short,” he smiled. “I’m sure there’s plenty of interesting things about you. Okay, let me help you out… Do you like idols by chance?”

“Uhm, I do I guess,” you tried stringing together an answer. Not really the question you expected to be honest. “There were a few groups I followed more closely but lately I’ve not been keeping up much. I’m pretty interested in music in general though.”

“I see, I see.” Leaning forward again and lowering his voice, prompting you to do the same, he continued as if he was sharing a secret. “The thing is, I have concert tickets for an idol group next weekend and I don’t feel like going alone. Care to join me?”

“Did you really spark this whole round-about conversation just to ask that?”

The guy laughed. “Maybe~ So, what do you say?”

“I-” Were you really about to take him up on the offer? No… Were you really about to reject a date with this guy? If you planned to meet at the concert hall, there’d also be a crowd around. “Sure, I’d love to go.”

“Great,” he beamed, shooting back up with energy to rival a golden retriever. “You’ll be here on Wednesday, right? I’ll give you the ticket then!”

“I can hardly wait,” you laughed, his enthusiasm contagious. “How much do I owe you?”

“Owe me? Oh please, it’s free of charge.” Before you could protest, he already held up his hand to shush you. “I have the ticket already anyway and you’re doing me the honour of your company. Really, don’t worry about it.”

That was how you found yourself trading a coffee for a ticket the following week, a sticky note with a phone number attached, the name Ajax scribbled underneath. Luckily, it was close to the end of your shift because you felt like you could explode from excitement. Walking out of the coffee shop, reality started to sink in; you were going to a concert, with a cute guy, that same weekend… You pulled out your phone and quickly scrolled through your recent calls and barely waited for the other person to greet you.

“Kaveh, I need your help with an outfit.”

Three days and a very stressful outfit and make-up session later, your entire closet had been uprooted and strewn across your room and you still had no idea who “Vizion”, the group you were going to see, was. You really wanted to check them out before the concert but, as it tended to do, life got in the way and the only info you had was that the four members were a fairly new rookie group with some sought-after trainees and a lot of potential, signed under the reputable Lapis Dei Entertainment. But that was about it.

Taking a deep breath, you checked once again if you had the ticket when the concert hall came into view. The venue wasn’t all that big, understandably so for a group still trying to grow their fanbase, and you had relatively little trouble finding the meeting place you and Ajax had agreed upon. As you waited for him to show, more and more people started filling the open space and their excited chatter and laughter was contagious, helping you calm down a little. Just when you went to check the time again, a message came in.

Ajax: I’m so sorry, I’m running late!

Ajax: Please go in without me, I’ll catch up with you later!

Ajax: Again, so so sorry!!

Okay, no need to panic. You could navigate this venue on your own and totally weren’t banking on Ajax’s expertise; this was a walk in the park, right? Yeah, except for the fact you were already struggling to make out where you had to go after passing the general entrance. Apparently a group of fans saw you staring down on your ticket in confusion and decided to take pity on you.

“Heya there!” A guy with two braids framing his face greeted you. “No offence but you’re looking a little lost. First time at a concert?”

“Uh, yeah actually,” you sheepishly replied. “To be honest, I have to idea how to get to my spot.”

“Let me take a look at your ticket,” he beamed and as you handed it to him, a blond and an auburn haired guy peeked over his shoulder as well, while their white-haired friend stood to the side giving you a friendly smile. “Oh hey, what a coincidence! We’re headed to the same area! If you want you can tag along!”

“Thanks, that’d be a great help.”

“You must have really looked forward to seeing Vizion if you’re willing to go to your first concert on your own,” the blond smiled. “That takes some courage.”

“Oh, I was actually meeting with a friend,” you said as the group started moving. “He said he’s running late though. It was his idea to come here, so I don’t actually know too much about the group performing tonight. Are you guys fans of them?”

“I guess you could say that,” Heizou, as he had introduced himself, hummed. “Actually, we know some of the members from before they debuted, so we’re here to show our support or something like that.”

“Wow, that’s so nice of you,” you smiled. “They must be happy to have their friends here.”

“Well, we’ve not been in very close contact for a while,” Kazuha corrected. “Plus, they don’t quite know we’re attending. Thoma would probably freak if he did.”

Sooner than you expected, you found yourself surrounded by other people, some of whom carried signs or wore shirts with names printed on them. You recognised the name of the friend Venti and his group had been talking about; for the others you drew a blank. To your surprise, you ended up a lot closer to the stage than expected; hopefully Ajax would find you here. After all, you mainly came out to spend time with him, not to see Vizion; although going to a concert was a nice bonus.

Passing time by chatting with your new acquaintances, you found out they ran a piercing and tattoo studio not far from the coffee shop together with two more guys. Now that they mentioned it, you did seem to recall your favourite co-worker mentioning something along those lines.

Before you knew it, the lights on stage shifted and the crowd went wild, making you jump out of your skin with surprise. Then, your attention was drawn by the four figures appearing on stage. As a man with blond hair and chartreuse green eyes stepped forward, the men next to you started hollering and cheering like crazy, giving you a hunch as to who he was. Due to the rather small venue for an idol group, he could probably hear them too, making it a point to interact with the other side of the audience while his fellow members covered this one.

And then, fluffy ginger hair and azure eyes captured your attention.

There was no mistaking him. It was the mysterious guy from the coffee shop, who you’d gotten to know as Ajax, making fans scream as he winked in your general direction, a cocky grin decorating his handsome face.Waving into the crowd some more and playing along with the people gathered in the arena, it was clear he was a natural at working the crowd and capitalising on their excitement. Gathering at the centre of the stage, they formed a line.

“Look ahead! Hello, we are,” Thoma started before the rest chimed in, “Vizion! Thank you to all our Fates who are here tonight!”

The crowd broke into wild applause and shouts as they bowed, one or the other shriek of a name piercing through the noise. One by one, the members were introduced; starting by Thoma, the leader of the group, to Chongyun, the icy-haired dance prodigy and Yanqing, the long-haired wonderchild, the youngest of the group. When Thoma lifted his mic, there was only one person left to be introduced and it would be a lie if you said you weren’t brimming with curiosity.

“Last but not least, please let me introduce our ace, Childe,” the blond announced, waiting for the ruckus to die down before continuing. “Whether it’s rap, vocals or dancing, our oldest will be sure to pull you in with his siren-like voice and visuals.”

“Not to mention that he’s as loud and obnoxious as a siren too,” the guy next to Thoma quipped into his own mic, earning him a few chuckles.

Although you thought at first Thoma was exaggerating when it came to Ajax’s -or rather Childe’s- abilities, you were very quickly proven wrong. Whether it was the fast-paced lines of a verse or the moving high notes of a ballad, you were hanging onto his every word, emotions stirring in your chest and the music flowing through you. Suddenly you understood why sailors jumped overboard after hearing a siren’s song; no wonder you couldn’t get enough of his magnetic voice the first time you heard it.

Time flew without you noticing it. What felt like minutes ended up being hours of you giving a certain someone on stage your undivided attention as you couldn’t physically tear your eyes away from his smooth and fluid movements. Despite not knowing the songs, the energy surrounding you had you jumping with everyone else and picking up on the fan chant as well.

Maybe it was your imagination, but you could’ve sworn Childe was coming over to your side of the venue more often than elsewhere, winking and blowing kisses to fans around you who melted at the attention. There was a spark in his eyes as he stood on stage, as if performing had him coming truly alive and, perhaps for just a second, you envied his passion. But most of all, you were happy for him.

The absolute kicker of the show, in your opinion anyway, was when Childe disappeared backstage just to come back holding an electric guitar. Playing a few chords to tease the beginning of a song, he soaked up the crowd’s reaction before getting serious. And stars above, he was better than good. Moving across the stage past Chongyun on the drums, leaning in to share a mic with Thoma, his fingers dancing skillfully over the strings as sweat rolled down his temple, toned arms on full display, the image ingrained itself into your brain. You genuinely wondered if there was something he couldn’t do.

Sadly, every good thing had to come to an end, so eventually the artists said their final goodbyes, thanking everybody for coming out to support them, and disappeared under the stage while being showered in thunderous applause. Even as you drifted outside in the sea of people exiting the venue, your heartbeat still wouldn’t slow down as you finally had time to sort out your thoughts. The guy you planned to meet was an idol! That realisation hit you like a ton of bricks and your brain flashed you a slideshow of every possible embarrassing moment in his presence. Very helpful, much appreciated.

“Too bad your friend never showed, huh,” Venti threw out as you finally were under open skies again. “He did miss out on not only spending time with you but also on a good show.”

“Oh he’s here actually.” Not technically a lie, you guessed. Holding up your phone you added, “He just never made it to where we were but I’m hoping I can find him somewhere now.”

“You sure?” Kazuha asked, head tilted to the side. “Should we wait with you? Do you have a way to get home?”

“Oh, I’m fine really. I appreciate the concern though,” you smiled. “Thanks for everything tonight. I really would’ve been lost without you guys.”

“No problem! As long as you had fun,” Aether chimed before waving as they took their leave. “It was nice meeting you!”

“Yeah and if you ever think about getting a tattoo or a piercing, think of us!” That was definitely Heizou shouting. What a bunch of dorks.

Waiting a few more minutes so you could be sure you wouldn’t run into them again and would have to explain yourself, you got ready to leave. Despite what you said, you were well aware there was absolutely no way you could meet Ajax right now. The way home was uneventful, yet it did nothing to quell the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. Everytime you closed your eyes you saw an ocean blue gaze and a pearly smile. Damn it, were you really crushing on an idol? Well, technically you had been before you knew he was an idol… Shaking your head, you hoped to derail that train of thought before it could even leave the station.

Plopping down on your bed, you stared at your phone trying to figure out what to do now. What did you say in a situation like this? Where would you go from here? With a groan, you discarded your phone somewhere on your mattress and let your back hit your bed before whirling around at the sound of your ringtone. Glaring at you in the dimly lit room was the caller info of the one person your thoughts were racing around.

“Hi there~” An amused voice greeted you right as you swiped the green icon to the right. “I hope you had fun today.”

“Bold move for someone who never showed up,” you tried to tease, hoping to downplay the nerves thumping up your throat. “You’re putting in quite the effort just to get people to attend your concerts, you know. I don’t think it’s an effective marketing tactic, Childe.”

On the other end of the line you could hear chuckling. “Listen, I really am sorry for pulling that stunt on you, but I didn’t want to ruin the element of surprise of it all. I’ll think of a way to make it up to you; can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“Hmm,” you pretended to think. “Maybe… But in all seriousness, I did have fun tonight and you did a great job. I think I’m gonna be hoarse from all the screaming tomorrow.”

The second the words left your mouth, you wanted to pull them back in. But hearing Ajax’ s smug voice confirmed it was too late as you could basically see his shit-eating grin through the phone.

“Oh really?~” Ajax drawled. “I’ll have to hear you do that again for me, perhaps with less people around.”

“You are the absolute worst.”

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

#┊holly’s potions ೃ༄#┊holly’s modern au ✩彡 #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact modern au #genshin modern au #childe x reader #childe fluff #genshin impact childe #tartaglia #genshin childe #childe genshin impact

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timbrhead · 1 month ago

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metanoia | pt. 05.1 - scared to live, scared to die

𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨;

>> welcome, my name is 𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐚, and ill be your scriptwriter (^‿^✿). my story will be kind of an choose-your-own-adventure story with a poll at the end of every part, where you can vote how the story continues.

This will be honkai star rail x fireader story with these elements: reincarnation, slow burn, i gave reader a proper personality (sry, not much customisation there), does not follow the original storyline

previous part <<< >>> next part (interlude chapter)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ( this is important )

mentions of light injuries

surprisingly, your plan worked better than you expected.

well, not exactly in the way you hoped— you had the sneaking suspicion that he knows that you are not really mei lian. but at least he believed you when you said that you meant no harm.

one thing you learned about the general was, that through his many years of living, he could read ordinary people like an open book. it made sense; when you live for a few hundred years, you tend to pick up on the patterns of human behaviour.

even though he tends to laze around a bit, that doesn’t mean at all that he isn’t perceptive and cunning. in fact, it makes him even scarier that way— even in a drowsy and laid back state, you cannot escape his sharp gaze.

so he lets you quietly exist beside him, the impostor housing the body of his personal servant, just in case you attempt to try anything.

that was the only logical reason you could think off why he lets you live; to keep an eye on you. to study you.

but it wasn’t all bad, being under the watchful gaze of the general. he did not harm you, and after registering the fact that you were physically in a rather weakened state for a long life species, he even began to care for you.

you didn’t even register all the physical differences your body had. you noticed that your body was thin and lean, malnourished. you couldn’t carry heavy things, and you couldn’t run for long periods of time.

it was as frustrating as it was intriguing— it really made you wonder what mei lian survived with her siblings.

on the topic of your siblings, the general was kind enough to send out a search party for them, concerned as you were over their disappearance. maybe he saw that your worry towards these children were genuine, and decided to indulge you— that was at least your suspicion.

you were grateful nonetheless, it would be a pain to search for your siblings during your long work hours as the generals personal attendant.

not that it was a particularly hard job. it was even more domestic than you thought, you muse to yourself as you pushed a cart filled with tea and rice cakes to the courtyard. you saw the general propped on the chaise lounge, leaning over the chessboard he was playing on with yanqing.

„ general, it‘s tea time… “

you announce as you pushed the cart towards him, the steaming tea pot emitting the lingering scent of jasmine through the luscious garden. as always, the general flashed you a smug smile. he hummed, resting his cheek on his knuckles.

„ ah, perfect timing “, he announced, watching with sharp golden eyes as you prepared his tea.

„ something on your mind? “, he inquires, tilting his head slightly. you flinch, looking at him with wide eyes before waving it off, forcing a small smile to stretch across your face. you took the steaming tea cup, putting it beside a plate of sticky, sweet rice cakes.

„ i have just been—it‘s just some trivial things, general. here you go. “, you mutter, noticing his smile slightly waver as he grabs the cup, taking a sip from it. you noticed that he doesn’t like it when you weren’t transparent with him. it made him think that you were plotting something.

„ if it bothers you enough, then it is not a trivial thing. i would like to know. “

you sigh, averting your eyes. biting your lip, you prevent the frustration bubbling up and spilling from your mouth. „it…It is my siblings, general, i‘m—i‘m worried sick.“

you force out, gripping the handle of the cart. it has been two months ever since you started to work for the general, and ever since then, nothing of significance has happened.

every day felt the same, wringing out your sanity bit by bit as you acted like someone you weren’t, living a life you didn’t want to live. the mask you wore was slowly merging into a second skin, trapping you in this illusion.

„ the search party is searching for them as we speak “, the general retorts, making you calm down a bit. you nod slightly, running a hand through your hair. „i—i know, general. and i‘m forever grateful, but—“ the grip around the handle grew tighter as your eyes narrowed in exasperation.

„ i just feel so helpless. “

you admit, hearing the general sigh shortly after that. „ if you wish to do more, simply pray for their return. leave this up to my people, i‘m sure they will be found. “ he says, finishing his cup. you frown, raising your head.

„ is…is that truly everything i can do? general, why don‘t you let me join a search party? i know my siblings the best, i could help—“

„ absolutely not. “

he stops you before you could say anything more. you bit your lip at that. right. if he lets you go, then he also loses the control he has over you. there was no reason to let you go unsupervised, leaving his watchful gaze.

you were just about to protest, when he was suddenly standing before you, gently shushing you with a finger pressed against your lips.

„ please, dearest. it‘s not good for you to be stressed. you will strain your body even more. “, he comments, before slyly smiling. „why don’t we take a stroll instead? it is not healthy to be coped up inside the house all the time, no? “

he suggests, and before you know it, you are taken by his hand, with no room for protest. you could only gasp out a confused „ hah? “ as he led you out of the office into the streets, your wrist in his tight grip.

no matter how you look at it, the general was sometimes even more odd than you.

as you were led through the crowd, one that was naturally parting for the esteemed general of the luofu, you noticed that it too was a test. with the way he observed you so carefully, he wanted to test your reaction to specific things, watching if anything would make you let out an unusual reaction.

that didn’t occur though, so after stuffing you full with various items of street food and buying you a silly looking hat that he photographed you wearing ( possibly to quench his silent disappointment ) , he lead you back towards the seat of divine foresight.

but just then, as you wanted to convince the general to please delete the photo on his phone, you noticed an unusual flash of green whizzing by. it was a woman in a green robe, with light brown hair that was swooped to the side.

and momentarily, you locked your eyes with her dull ones, ones seemingly swallowing you whole.

after that a whole chain reaction started.

your vision began to waver. you felt feverish, and you saw lights flashing by you. jing yuan‘s calls were a faint echo, and everything seemed to flash by in a single second. you couldn’t even register wether you were standing or not, everything was spinning, and it was too much, too much, too much—

the voices of the passer-by’s and the general were slowly replaced with memories not belonging to you, and you felt sick, toppling over before blacking out.

you heard faint screams of agony, making your body shiver.

your lungs burned, making you tear up.

from this point on, the story really begins to ramp uppp ~ so don‘t forget to vote on what the reader should do next!

taglist; @shadowypeachsweets

- xoxo, laina

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asteriastarr · 1 year ago

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Hey could you do a Deuce x human!reader and him meeting her and finding out humans aren’t as bad as he thought?

A/n: TY SM FOR THE REQUEST ANON! This may not be the best but nyways, this was requested 2 times but with a kinda seperate plot point so I'm going to make another version of this. Sorry this ones super long lol.

POV: Deuce discovering humans aren't as bad as he thought

Humans are horrible, evil creatures. That is something that had been drilled into Deuce Gorgon's brain since the day he could talk. He was taught that humans were vicious, smelly, weak creatures who targeted defenceless monsters. The only thing protecting monsters from them was their smarts or lack thereof.

Y/n L/n had lived the vast majority of her life believing Monsters were fictional, fake creatures used to scare small children into listening to their parents. Creatures that only ever truly exist in the minds of children, keeping them up at night as they peer through the cracks of open closets, or hiding under their beds, waiting to strike, she was half right.

You may be wondering, how Deuce Gorgon had found himself in the human world, how these two beings could ever possibly meet, well- as with all things, it began with chaos.

Deuce and his best friend Heath strutted down the streets of a human city, heads down until they reached a busy Café, deciding this was the perfect place to terrorize humans.

Heath threw a ball of flame towards one of the café parasols, effectively turning it to ash. Deuce removed his beanie, allowing his snakes to be free.

They continued causing chaos like that, laughing cruelly as humans ran around in a panic, just as they were about to leave, however… Deuce saw someone.

A girl around his age, evidently unbothered by the chaos- or perhaps she simply hadn’t noticed it, cleaning a table, earphones in her ears. She looked as though she was the embodiment of Aphrodite herself, her appearance almost ethereal. Surely, she was some form of Siren, perhaps a demi-goddess… but why would she be working at a café in the human world if she were either of those things?

He considered walking over to her, making himself known but stopped himself, why should he? She was a human; they were evil and bad. But this girl was far too beautiful to be some ordinary human.

Just then he saw a small child, around the age of three running over to her in tears, gently pulling on her apron.

She turned around, removing her earphones to see the small child, she knelt down to their level, looking at them in concern.

“What’s the matter hon?” She asked gently, Deuce thought her voice was hypnotic.

The child, unable to speak from their sobs, showed her a badly burnt teddy bear.

“Oh dear! Poor thing, would you like me to fix it up for you?” She offered, slowly taking the bear in her hands.

The child nodded.

“Okay, I’ll fix it.” She smiled kindly.

“P-please be quick, Mr Bear protects me from the monsters.” The child sobbed.

“Hey, don’t worry, I won’t let any monsters harm you, okay kid? Just until Mr Bear is back in action.” She said softly.

“O-okay.” The child stammered.

She paused, glancing down at her apron pocket before slowly smiling. “Okay, now… close your eyes.” She whispered, the child quickly doing as told “I’m going to do a magic trick.”

She quickly shoved the burnt bear into her pocket, pulling out an almost exact replica of the bear, this one looking brand new.

“Okay… now, open them!” She exclaimed, holding the bear out.

The child gasped, practically snatching the bear from her, clutching it tightly to their chest.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” The child exclaimed engulfing the girl into a tight hug before rushing off.

The girl smiled at the child before turning back to the table to continue cleaning the table, before finally, very calmly, pouring water over the burning parasol, taking the charred remains over to a bin and throwing it in.

Deuce wondered whether she was used to this.

“Y’know it’s rude to stare right?” He heard the girl muse, her attention on cleaning a table.

He glanced around, realising that the only people on this once busy street were him, Heath (who was busy causing chaos across the road) and her.

She turned around to face him, one hand resting on her hip, giving him a pointed look.

“Nice hair, by the way, but uh- not sure if you heard but, Halloween was last week.” She said sarcastically, glaring.

“Oh- it’s not a-” He began, suddenly feeling remarkably nervous- what was she doing to him?

“Bup, bup, bup. I don’t care.” She hissed walking forward, crossing her arms “What I do care about is that you and your little friend keep coming to my place of work, dressed in costumes, setting shit on fire- causing me to lose pay so the company can pay for replacements- freaking people out, which nice touch on the mechanical hairs- very realistic- but you're making my job harder because I’m the one who has to clean up after your little ‘pranks’ so you better cut it out.”

At that, she moved to turn around before pausing.

“And by the way, sunglasses, really? Kinda makes you look like a douche- well more of a douche.”

He watched her walk away, contemplating whether or not to call out.

“Wait!” He exclaimed, glancing around to ensure Heath wasn’t looking.

She turned around, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh- I’m sorry… how can I- can I make it up to you?” He asked.

She stayed silent, crossing her arms and giving him a sceptical look, examining his body language before sighing.

“Look, I have my break in five minutes, I’ll probably have to spend it cleaning anyways, you really want to make it up to me, come help.” She said before adding “And uh- don’t bring your friend, I’d rather not talk to someone who by the looks of things has fewer brain cells than a sponge.”

Deuce gave her a slight smile and a nod.

And five minutes later he did exactly that, he helped the human girl clean up the mess he and Heath had made, getting to know her as they did so.

“So, uh- if you don’t mind me asking, what was that with the kid? Y’know the one you gave the bear to.” Deuce asked.

“Oh, uh- they’re my friend's younger sibling… an orphan, been looking after them when I can since my friend can’t anymore.” She spoke, looking down at the table she was cleaning.

“You mean your friend is-”

“Dead, yes.”

“Oh. I’m sorry… do they live with you?” He asked.

“No… they live in the city orphanage; I help out there when I can but when I’m 18 I’ll adopt them officially.”

Deuce stayed silent, looking at the girl who’d suddenly seemed to find a spot on the table more interesting than anything else.

“You, okay?” He asked cautiously.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m uh- I’m fine… just don’t really want to talk about this…” She said looking up at him “Uh- y’know I think you’ve helped enough; I forgive you and stuff; this is my job anyway so I’ll… I’ll finish cleaning it.”

“No- I wanna help.” He said quickly.

She gave him a soft smile.

“Thanks.” She smiled “Y’know, you’re a good person, perhaps I’ve judged you too harshly.” “Yeah… I’m uh really sorry about uh… the damage and stuff by the way… truly.” He spoke.

“It’s alright, I didn’t really care as much as I let on, I actually found it quite funny most times… whilst it was happening at least.” She grinned “I’m Y/n by the way.”

“Deuce.” He said, grinning.

She looked at him for a moment before quickly pulling her notepad out of one of her pockets and writing something down.

“Here, uh- text me some time, you seem cool and I’d like to get to know you better.” She said, tearing the paper out of her notepad, folding it in half and handing it to him.

“Thanks, I uh- will.” He smiled, taking it.

“I’ve gotta get back to work now but uh- good meeting you… officially that is.”

She walked away, returning back into the café, Deuce remained standing there, staring at the phone number in his hands, a wide smile on his face.

Perhaps humans weren’t as bad as he thought.

#deuce gorgon #deuce gorgon g3 #deuce gorgon x reader #live action deuce gorgon #live action deuce gorgon x reader #g3 monster high #gorgon #live action monster high #monster high g3 #requested

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calisources · 1 year ago

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TAYLOR JENKINS REID BOOK QUOTES. all sentences are taken from various of taylor jenkins reid's books. mentions of sex, marriage,cheating, divorce, soulmates and heartbreak. change names, locations and pronouns as you see fit.

"People think that intimacy is about sex. But intimacy is about truth."

"When you realize you can tell someone your truth, when you can show yourself to them, when you stand in front of them bare and their response is 'you're safe with me'- that's intimacy."

"I had absolutely no interest in being somebody else's muse. I am not a muse. I am the somebody."

"Never let anyone make you feel ordinary."

“Men often think they deserve a sticker for treating women like people.”

“Don't ignore half of me so you can fit me into a box. Don't do that.”

“I’m under absolutely no obligation to make sense to you.”

“It’s always been fascinating to me how things can be simultaneously true and false, how people can be good and bad all in one, how someone can love you in a way that is beautifully selfless while serving themselves ruthlessly.”

“Sometimes reality comes crashing down on you. Other times reality simply waits, patiently, for you to run out of the energy it takes to deny it.”

“Heartbreak is a loss. Divorce is a piece of paper.”

“I spent half my time loving her and the other half hiding how much I loved her.”

“I think you have to have faith in people before they earn it. Otherwise it's not faith, right?”

“When you're given an opportunity to change your life, be ready to do whatever it takes to make it happen. The world doesn't give things, you take things.”

“Passion is...it's fire. And fire is great, man. But we're made of water. Water is how we keep living. Water is what we need to survive.”

“If she knew how often I was thinking about her, she wouldn't feel lonely.”

And my heart breaks for every single version of me that didn't end up with you.”

“No matter who you choose to go down the road with, you're gonna get hurt. That's just the nature of caring about someone. No matter who you love, they will break your heart along the way.”

“When you think of me, I hope it ruins rock 'n' roll”

“No one is just a victim or a victor. Everyone is somewhere in between.

“People are messy, and love can be ugly. I’m inclined to always err on the side of compassion.”

“Confidence is being okay being bad, not being okay being good.”

“How were you supposed to change- in ways both big and small- when your family was always there to remind you of exactly the person you apparently signed an ironclad contract to be?”

“You're all sorts of things you don't even know yet.”

“We love broken, beautiful people. And it doesn't get much more obviously broken and more classically beautiful than Daisy Jones.”

“We live in a world where exceptional women have to sit around waiting for mediocre men.”

“Just because something isn’t meant to last a lifetime doesn’t mean it wasn’t meant to be.”

“It hurts to care about someone more than they care about themselves.”

“Family is found...whether it be blood or circumstance or choice, what binds us does not matter. All that matters is that we are bound.”

“Nobody deserves anything,”

“It shouldn’t be wrong, to love you. How can it be wrong?”

“Isn’t it nice … once you’ve outgrown the ideas of what life should be and you just enjoy what it is.”

“Our family histories are simply stories. They are myths we create about the people who came before us, in order to make sense of ourselves.”

“I am absolutely positive that I need you more than I’ve ever needed another living soul,”

“If there are all different types of soul mates, then you are one of mine.”

“And taking pride in your beauty is a damning act.

“Must be nice. To be able to be weak. I wouldn’t know.”

Better just to stay in the now and focus on what you can do better in the future.”

“Forgiveness is different from absolution.”

“There’s no room for you in my life anymore. And I don’t owe it to you to make any space.”

“That's what you do when you want something. You don't look for reasons why it won't work. You look for reasons why it will.”

“It's the ones who never loved you enough that come to you when you can't sleep.

“Just because you can live without someone doesn’t mean you want to.”

“History is what you did, not what you almost did, not what you thought about doing. And I was proud of what I did”

“Alcoholism is a disease with many faces, and some of them look beautiful.”

I used to care when men called me difficult. I really did. Then I stopped. This way is better.”

“The truth often lies, unclaimed, in the middle.”

“I guess what I’m saying is it’s not all luck. It’s luck and being a son of a bitch.”

“But a good life is knowing people care about you, knowing you can take care of the people that count on you.”

“There was finally enough air within her for a fire to ignite.”

“Everything that made Daisy burn, made me burn. Everything I loved about the world, Daisy loved about the world. Everything I struggled with, Daisy struggled with. We were two halves. We were the same.”

“Love and pride don't mix.”

“I’m cynical and I’m bossy, and most people would consider me vaguely immoral.”

“When you find that rare person who really knows who you are and they still don't love you... I was burning.”

“Fate or not, our lives are still the results of our choices.”

“I have changed over time. That’s what people do.People aren’t stagnant. We evolve in reaction to our pleasures and our pains.”

“We are two people who are madly in love with our old selves. And that is not the same as being in love.”

“It’s a hard business, reconciling what the truth used to be with what the truth is now.”

But she was always the person I loved the most. She was always the person I would choose.

Water is how we keep living. Water is what we need to survive. My family was my water. I picked water. I'll pick water every time. And I wanted Daisy to find her water. Because I couldn't be it

“My heart hurts when you hurt because you are my heart.”

“You don’t need to find the perfect thing all the time. Just find one that works, and go with it.”

“You can only forgive yourself for the mistakes you made in the past once you know you’ll never make them again.”

“I'm not perfect. I'll never be perfect. I don't expect anything to be perfect. But things don't have to be perfect to be strong.

“We loved each other and we lost each other. And now, even though we still love each other, the pieces don’t fit like they used to.”

“What's that saying? Behind every gorgeous woman, there's a man sick of screwing her? Well, it works both ways. No one mentions that part.”

“The Chosen ones never know they are chosen. They think everyone gets a gold carpet rolled out for them.”

“Your whole world can be falling apart, she thought, but then Springsteen will start playing on the radio.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,”

“...if you redeem yourself, then believe in your own redemption.”

“I want to be with someone who lives for me. I want to be with someone who considers me the love of her life. I deserve that.”

“No one goes around throwing caution to the wind unless the wind is blowing their way.”

“You are happier to have known him than you are sad to have lost him.”

“Love is forgiveness and patience and faith and every once in a while, it’s a gut punch.”

“It seems as if you see me exactly as I wish to be seen. There is no greater gift than that.”

“I've seen a lot of marriages where everyone is faithful and no one is happy.”

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt

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smolvenger · 8 months ago

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The Boat in the Water: A Beauty and the Beast Story (An MCU and The Essex Serpent Crossover, Loki x Stella Ransome, Multi-Part), Chapter Three

Summary: Having lost her health and her husband's fidelity and love, Stella has nothing more to lose than her life. Then...she is swept away to another realm, to an enchanted castle. A castle whose master is a god...a god with a striking resemblance to her husband.

Warnings: Angst that turns into hurt/comfort. Discussions of cheating (I portray the Will/Cora affair as bad and Stella having some negative feelings about it, so if you don't agree or have a problem with that interpretation, this your warning right now that this probably isn't the fic for you), some blood and portrayals of illness, references to both canons, some silly, goofy lil moments.

Word Count: >7K. (have drinkies and snacks)

One// Two//Three//Four coming soon!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @anukulee @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr @jijilaufeyson

She kept crying so much, she did not hear his knock.

‘That’s what I get,’ Loki thought. He took a step away, lowering his hand, curling it into a fist by his side. ‘Mother was always the expert at these- no, I should remember, she’s not my mother at all! Damn her! Damn Will, Damn Stella, and damn me most!’

He took a moment and paced about. His cape flowed behind him like opened wings that would go nowhere. His mind kept racing. He was called Silvertongue, but when it came to consolation, why could he think of nothing to say?

She was still sobbing. It paused for a moment. She was murmuring. He pressed his ear to the door.

“God, I confess, I have just sinned against you in thought, word, and deed. By what I have done and what I have left undone. I am truly sorry and I humbly repent. For the sake of your son, Jesus Christ…”

He remembered that prayer. He overheard when he disguised himself as an ordinary village person, that was the prayer done every Sunday in that church to confess sins. Did she think she should repent for….for feeling sad about her husband’s infidelity? What kind of world made her to be what she is?

Asgard never taught its children to feel remorse over such things. He recalled Lady Sif. If Sif’s husband betrayed her for another, she would get out her sword and decapitate him without a word, without hesitation, and definitely without any regret.

But, Stella wasn’t Sif. And she was suffering. Norns, he had to…had to…think of something! Perhaps a charming little trick! Conjure little fireworks or more flowers for her! Yes, if all else failed, he could try that! Wasn’t that what mortal ladies like? He didn’t have much experience with them.

Before his courage could sink down, he went to the door and knocked louder.

“Can I come in?” he asked, projecting his voice.

“You…you may…” was her quiet reply.

When he opened the door, he saw her kneeling. Clutching the wedding gown from the chest in her arms like a child clutching a blanket Her blonde hair was a little rumpled, a few strands loose from her braid. The paths of tears were obvious down her cheeks, her face was a little red and puffy from crying.

He remained standing at the threshold.

“I…I don’t know how to say this, but…but…but I am sorry…I shouldn’t have said those things aloud. I shouldn’t have judged you. Or him.”

She nodded her head.

“You only like to be proven right-that was why…” she mused.

She was right. For being such a pitiful, pretty little pet unaware of her own torment and with no thoughts other than her husband and family...she was right. Perhaps her head wasn’t as empty as he first thought.

“Little Star, I still shouldn’t have said a word, I…I didn’t consider how much it would hurt-”

“I forgive you, Loki,” she interrupted, looking into his eyes.

I forgive you. Three words he had not often heard in sequence in his life. Much less directed at him.

Gently, he knelt down to meet her.

“This was what you wore when you married him,” he began.

She nodded sniffling.

“It’s…it’s rather pretty,” he admitted.

“Yes. I remember how. My mother gave her last warning about the marriage bed that morning, it was summer and stuck to my skin when I went outside to go to the church, my heart was racing and then he….he told me when I went to the altar that I was beautiful. And that night…the first night we…we performed the act…when it was done… he told me it was the happiest day of his life” she began.

She looked down at the heap of the wedding dress and veil. Then back at him, though it sat in a white heap on her lap. Her fists tightened as she clutched it over her, more like a soft shield than a blanket.

“You speak too ill of him. The first time he met Cora, do you know what he was doing? A farmer had his poor sheep stuck in a pit of mud. Will ran over and helped him. He didn’t stay in his study reading all day, clean and snug- no! He went out and helped pull each animal from the pit, ruining his clothes, and dragging heavy, thrashing sheep from the pit. He and the farmer got them to safety onto the higher field. He was drenched in mud when he came home, but the animals were safe…how could a bad man do that?”

Loki’s eyebrows shot up, and then back down.

“You should have seen how James sits on his lap, how John goes to his office with questions about hell, how he handles Jo and her little rebellions- you should have seen it all! I took Jo to be hypnotized once because I was curious. He fled in, insisted it stopped, and woke her up. The fear in his eyes…I feel so horrible about it now. Why? Because of how much he loved them!”

“Does he love you?” Loki asked.

“Yes, he does!” she repeated.

“But her loves her too…” he stated.

She froze, her face pale again.

“Yes…he does…”

She shook her head.

“He shouldn’t be alone. And the children should have a mother in their lives. You should see how happy he is with her. Loki, I can’t hate her! I like her. She writes me letters, she says how happy she is that she has me as her friend.”

Well, With friends like these, as the old mortal saying goes, Loki thought dryly, but he kept his mouth shut before he made the situation worse. Her eyes went down to the white wedding gown.

“I asked him to dance with her. I asked him to sit with her, see her, visit her, and write to her. So he could have someone…” she said. “It is the duty of a Christian to tear off your shirt for someone else. Of a wife to nurture and support her husband. I’ve done my duty…”

Her face then scrunched and went red and a hand went up over her face.

“And for once, it has made me unhappy!”

She began to cry. Loki did not conjure her flowers as he planned. He slowly reached his hand forward and placed it over hers. It’s what his mother, for Frigga in his heart, was still his mother, did. She barely flinched, but let him. He waited as her sobs heaved out.

“I…I did everything for him. The vicarage was always spotless. There were always visitors. I can’t recall one wrong step, or one failing I had. Men flirted with me after I was wed, and I had to dismiss them. I bore five children from him-”

“Five?” Loki repeated

“They weren’t always easy pregnancies. And the childbirths were painful, long, terrifying. And Two of them…we…” her tears broke down. “...Julianna died in my arms, And he was there for it all. They’re buried next to the church, and I think of them every day. Does he think of them too, I wonder? No…I know where and with whom his thoughts lay now… I made sure all was well in church. That his ministry was supported. I counseled and helped him through it all. I did everything for him…I even let him take a misteress…”

She paused. Her words failed at that moment. Then she spoke again, a small, broken smile on her face. The smile of one who accepted their defeat before the sword before them brought their end.

“I love him, Loki, and I’ve loved him for years. I feel like I loved him since the day I met him- who couldn’t? And I think, I wonder -I never said this aloud but, seeing him with her, and he….he’s no longer mine and….and the baser part of me wonders, whispering…when did I fail him? Then I tell myself it was because I was dying at least then…and that…it was all my fault. I pushed him onto her. Encouraged him. Told him to dance with her…”

She found a small lace pattern on the material of the wedding gown. Her fingers, compared to Loki's, seemed like doll hands. Tiny and delicate. One finger traced the pattern.

“Once I was the most important woman in Will’s life. He told me I was second to God and that the children were third. Cora arrived. And that changed. Now…I am the least important woman in all of England…it used to be that never bothered me…but now…the more I think on it, dwell on it no matter how I try not to…”

She shook her head as her hand curled up into a fist.

“I have no one to blame but myself,” she finished.

Loki bit back the urge to say it wasn’t her fault that she got ill. That her husband wanted to chase another skirt to satiate his lust since now his wife wasn’t an option. He swallowed lightly as if swallowing the thought down. She would reprimand him if he did. Claim it wasn’t obsession. It was love. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she was right too. Perhaps the truth was that it was both.

“Do not blame yourself. There is no one to blame but him and her. He shouldn’t have done that in the first place, no one was forcing him to. He should have resisted her and stayed with you until the end. That’s what a decent husband and lover would have done,” Loki advised carefully.

There was that sliver of rage inside him. He could have gone to that town and done all sorts of things to Will and Cora. Horrendous, violent things. Right. Now.

But he dared not move, dared not leave Stella alone with her tears and racing thoughts.

The one thing he did conjure was a handkerchief in his free hand. He offered it to her.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

She wiped off her face with the handkerchief and then put it down with the dress.

“It is not my place to let people in love be unhappy, it’s not my place to be jealous, to think badly of them, or if I let these thoughts consume me, Loki… I could do something…something horrible, I could hurt someone I care about…and it frightens me,” she admitted.

She grasped the handkerchief with both hands, squeezing it lightly.

“I…I don’t want to be a bad person,” she confessed.

“You aren’t a bad person,” Loki assured her.

She lifted her face, her blue eyes shining up. A little of her light regained.

“Then what am I?” she asked.

He thought for a moment, and then the answer dawned on him.

“Alive.”

She then settled. How pretty her eyes were, soft as snow. He gave her a weak, but present smile.

“Do not fret about being a bad person. You have more goodness in your little finger than I have in my whole body,” Loki assured her.

She tilted her head a bit.

“It always hurts…to be the second favorite…not chosen, not special, not equal to someone, even someone you care for…” he admitted. The painful thoughts and memories coming back up. Thor’s birthright of a crown. His birthright of a grave. “But…you are still good, after all of that. There’s a strength in being so even gods have failed at it. Even me…”

He saw her lips curl up to a small smile at his phrase.

“Thank you,” was her soft reply.

She paused, her eyes widening.

Then her body heaved and she put the handkerchief to her mouth. A series of coughs wracked her body. And when she lowered the handkerchief, to his horror, there was a pool of blood.

Stella stiffened a little blood on her lips, her breaths shallow.

“Loki…Loki please help!” she pleaded. “Please…the healers! I’m…I’m so scared…I’m going to die, I don’t want to die anymore, please!”

He immediately grabbed her and placed one of her arms around her shoulder and another beneath her legs. She felt her small gasp as he did so. How light she felt, how small. How was it that people described her in town when he overheard? Oh yes, that phrase Mrs. Ambrose used- “Oh, Mrs. Ransome! Doesn’t she look lovely every day? Oh, she is no bigger than a fairy and twice as pretty!” She did feel as light as a fairy in his arms. He got her to the bed and put the covers over her.

He lifted his hand and turned it, and her ballgown was transformed into a nightgown.

“I’m going to fetch them- stay here!”

He created a duplicate of himself to stand by the bed. It offered its hand and Stella accepted, squeezing tightly.

“So you won’t be alone! I will be right back. Here-”

He got a potion conjured in his hand. A little vial with violet-colored liquid. He offered it to her.

“This should help with the coughing, lessen it at least until they get here.”

She accepted it and then pressed it to her lips.

With his gifts of transportation and some swift horses, the healers arrived promptly. They gave her more medicine and their magic. Checked everything about her as they moved their hands over her body and repeated spells. Soon her coughs weren’t as common or present. She was more relaxed.

Loki would usually leave at this point, but he stayed. Stayed right in the room, dismissing his copy. Stayed by and watched anxiously, his brow wrinkling every time they finished an incantation.

Soon enough, they made her a little cup of tea to help calm her and ease the pain in her body. She cuddled up in the blankets, her eyes drooping down sleepily.

One healer, a woman with her brown hair in a bun approached him.

“She is stable. She will be fine, though there will be coughs and bouts of weakness. She just needs more time before we can declare her completely healed,” she reported.

Then they left. Her face looked pale and weary.

“Loki…where is the music? I miss it…from the ballroom…” she asked.

“That was from my magic,” he explained.

“Could you have it play for me, please? Or, do you know a…a song…I need to take my mind off of everything…”

Loki thought for a moment.

“I know a song…it’s rather fast, but there’s the slower bit…”

She stilled. Then he sat by the bed and held her hand and sang:

“I stormsvarte fjell Jeg vandrer alene Over isbreer tar jeg meg frem…”

He paused, a cheeky smile towards Stella. He looked right in her eyes, singing the next line right to her.

“I eplehagen står møyen den vene”

He gave her a wink, kissing her hand. Her eyes widened though from the scattered look, she didn’t understand what that line was actually saying, but her eyes did become a little bigger and her lips parted slightly, though no words came out.

“Og synger, ‘Nar kommer du hjem?’”

She did smile at that.

He made sure to slow the song down as much as he could, despite the temptation to speed it up. He finished the last line, and she nodded her head.

“The beginning was beautiful, thank you…I have one more request, please don’t think me selfish.”

“That depends on the request,” Loki teased, arching an eyebrow.

Her voice was soft and sleepy.

“Could I…have…a patch of ground in the garden? And a few seeds of flowers? They’re far easier than vegetables.”

“Why, yes, yes you may.”

She had a small smile and he felt his stomach turn a little at it.

I think I’m ready to go to sleep now. I’m grateful for you today, you were very kind to me. Goodnight, Loki.” she wished.

“Goodnight, Little Star.”

She kept the smile on her as her eyes drifted shut and she relaxed. They remained closed for a minute. Her small exhale and slowly rising and falling chest assured him that she wasn’t lost forever.

Then he left, closing the door quietly.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The Least Important Woman in the World found her patch of earth with a wooden sign on the ground and little stakes with azure ribbon around it the next day. There was a bag of flower seeds, a water cat, and a few tools. Then she got to work.

Stella stood in the muck, with an apron, a little straw hat over her braided hair, and gloves. She pulled up the dirt and shoveled.

A forbidden image came up in her mind. There, in the dirt, she imagined it was images of her husband and Cora. Happy and together. Like her years with him never mattered.

She indulged herself.

She picked up the shovel and slammed it in hard. She exhaled through her nose fast, simultaneous guilt and catharsis simmering inside her. The image of their dance was like a painting on the ground. She kept slamming it in like a blade. Releasing bits of her anger as steadily as a tea kettle whistling out steam when the water was too hot. No one was hurt, she didn’t want to hurt anyone. Yet her anguish demanded release. But she grunted as she dug out the dirt and slammed the shovel into different parts of the ground over and over again.

Loki watched with a slice of toasted bread with butter and a warm drink from inside the palace. He observed out the window, the clearest one so no color would distort what was happening. Clean and safe from his window like a prince observing his subject. Not that she noticed.

Part of him was struck as she was stabbing into the ground. There’s always something a little chilling when the sweetest person one knows turns angry. It’s sacred, terrifying. Even though he was a god who could bend shadows to his will, Loki felt his breathing become slightly more shallow.

When the ground was ready, she realized she was crying. She took one dirt-stained sleeve and wiped off her eyes. Then she wiped off her forehead as well, for she was sweating from the excursion already.

The holes were all prepared. She placed the bag of seeds in the pocket of her apron. She placed them in each hole delicately. Not minding that her skirts, hands, and a little of her face were dirty.

Loki couldn’t help but smirk, it was the dirtiest and thorniest he had seen this English Rose. He wondered what he would do if he was in her position. If his husband betrayed him for another, especially as he turned deadly sick, he would have loved to burn the entire village to the ashes.

She didn’t burn things down. She only gardened.

She patted the dirt over each little hole. Then she took out a watering can and put it over.

Wiping her hands from the effort, She would go about, checking on the various flowers. Watering them. She even got little scissors and snipped off surplus leaves. Wanting to do more than just amble about and admire plants.

She did see which flowers were blue and saw little blue pebbles in the ground in the garden- tiny rocks. She picked them up and placed them in her pocket. Then hurried back and put them in the box on her desk.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The next day, it was Stella was sitting in the room by the window. She was using the desk to write to her family. It was a pleasant room that caught the sunshine and made it appear golden and she could think of no better place to do so. She sat down, absorbed by detailing everything in letters to her children and husband about what was happening, as well as reading their responses that were delivered when the chests returned.

She was so hypnotized by it, that she didn’t notice Loki outside in the garden.

He looked up at her and placed his hands on his hips. He frowned as she smiled at one letter, a blush over her cheeks. She kissed it.

No doubt it was a letter from her philandering husband, Loki fumed silently. His face turned a bit red. Jealousy made a pit in his chest.

He looked at the free space in the outside courtyard- just right at Stella’s field of vision. A blank area of grass with no plants, not even a weed.

Grinning mischievously, he got an idea.

He conjured a mud puddle. Then he conjured a small flock of sheep to go about baaing. Right where she would see.

Her eyes were down on her letters. She had picked up a pen and was writing.

He tried to wave his hands to the sheep. Guiding them to stand in the mud puddle, though they were all at the edges of the puddle where it was shallow. They baaed quietly and looked around. Only their hooves were in the mud, but they were going about happily and very much not stuck. Though he didn’t like getting his fine leathers dirty, he got into the puddle. He smiled and placed his hands on his hips and looked up.

Her eyes were down.

He scrunched his nose and frowned. He let out a deep sigh as he got up and splashed some mud on his clothes and around his face. Then he waved at the sheep to go into the middle where there was more mud.

“Come on, my wooled friends, come on!” he urged.

One sheep finally managed to get into the deep middle.

Smiling again, he walked over to it. He picked it up easily and carried it over a mere one foot away from the mud to chew on un-muddy grass.

Loki checked the window.

She wasn’t looking. And still writing.

He got up another and lifted it up, high over his head. He made sure to be grunty and sweaty, just as she would have liked.

Her eyes were on her work.

Another wandered over.

“I didn’t want to do this, but it looks like I will have to,” Loki muttered internally.

He used magic to transform his clothes so that he was shirtless with fine pants. He knew he was beautiful and wanted her to see it.

And this time, the sheep were getting the memo and going over to the middle. They were not stuck, but going about the deeper mud contentedly. He picked up one, he lifted it high over his head so she could get a good look at his chest.

He checked

Norns, she was still writing!

He set it down on the grass. He then returned to the mud. He got one sheep and began lifting it up and down repeatedly as a weight, making sure to grunt in a way she would find a little titillating until there was a good sweat to make him glisten and her blush.

After a fifth rep, he held the sheep high over his head and put on his most winning smile. He checked the window.

She still didn’t look.

Right as he was on the verge of giving up, he lowered the sheep and it let out a rather loud, supported, unignorable “baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

Stella looked up.

Loki made sure everything was in place- the mud on him, his naked top, and he made sure to smile and pose with the sheep high over his head.

She gasped and left her desk in a hurry.

Was she offended? Perhaps so- perhaps the shirtlessness was a little too scandalous for her tastes. What was he doing being so crass? Doing something that Thor himself would do- did he really stoop that low? With a huff, he magicked back his shirt.

In a few minutes, the door to the garden was opening and out came a yellow head.

He felt as if he was set on fire. He hurried and picked up one sheep. He began to lift it up and down as it baaed.

“One hundred and one,” he began to grunt, loud enough for her to hear. “One hundred and two, one hundred and-”

“Come here, little darlings!” Stella cooed at the sheep, cutting him off.

When he turned his head, he realized she had a basket full of corn and peas and a wet towel in her other hand.

“Oh, poor dears! Please don’t eat in the garden! Here you are- you may have a little lunch!” she lured sweetly

The sheep gathered around her. Easily walking out of the mud without difficulty towards her. Taking the vegetables she gathered. She got out the wet towel, wiped off their hooves, and petted them.

“Are they alright?” she asked.

He did notice there was pink in her cheeks, hopefully at him. He made sure to have another of his famous smirks.

“Yes- they…they, uh, are,” he answered.

“The dirt on their wool will need soap and hot water, but that’s normal for them to get dirty when they go about,” she asked.

Loki looked down at the towel.

“I have the magic to clean them myself in a snap of my fingers if it pleases you.”

“Loki, could I clean a bit in the palace?” she asked.

“Clean? Why would you ever want to clean?” he asked.

One sheep walked to be by her side. She kept a hand on its head.

“I lived in a vicarage, given to us by Aldwinter to be our home. But since it was the vicarage, there were visitors so often. I knew if they judged the house, they would judge not only me but their vicar. So I made sure it was always as tidy as I could make it.”

She grinned.

“Sometimes I do not mind it at all! And I am alone in this palace with nothing to do until you decide to show up. May I clean a little? Lighten the magic some?” she asked.

Cleaning. All of his life, that was the job of the servants of the palace, never one of the princes. Loki tilted his head at her, he opened his mouth and for a second he couldn’t form words. But then he nodded his head with a shrug.

“Why…well, you are the one staying here, so I don’t see why not.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Stella did not mind cleaning a big palace or gardening. As her coughs lessened, as she got better, she found she no longer became tired so easily. She did miss her children terribly- she could imagine James running over to the kitchen and making himself sick on chocolates. She could see John with the dog running through the halls and opening every door, and hear his feet hurrying over the floors in echoes. She could see Jo going to the library and devouring book after book until she fell asleep with a novel on her face on the couch. How they would have loved this place!

Perhaps…when she was better…she could find a way to still keep in touch with Loki. She would take them on a trip. A free day of traveling, even though it was not to London but another world.

Nevertheless, she didn’t mind dusting every surface and sweeping off the floors. It was better to act rather than dwell all day.

As she was contentedly scrubbing away the floors of the main entryway one day, there was a knock at the door.

She jumped and released a gasp. If it was Loki, he would just conjure himself inside. Who could it be? A burglar? Surely, an enchanted castle could protect itself, could it not??

But then there was a voice, a booming, masculine, baritone voice that made her jump again.

“BROTHER!”

A burglar would not announce themselves like that.

She cautiously walked closer.

“Brother! Are you living here? Do not play your games, Loki, I wish to speak to you!” he stated from outside.

“On my way!” she replied. She picked up her skirt and walked over to open the door.

She opened the door to find a tall, large, muscular man with long beautiful blonde hair, blue eyes, and a blond beard. Stella was slightly taller than some women, but he hovered above her like a blonde bear. He looked down at her and smiled brightly.

“Oh…hello…” she greeted shyly.

“Why! Are you the Midgard lady they say lives here?” he asked.

“I…I am,” she replied. “I am Mrs. Stella Ransome, I’m pleased to meet you.” She curtsied small.

He shook her hand. She accepted it and found his grip matched her suspicion about his strength.

“Oh, I am Thor! God of Thunder and Prince of Asgard!”

Stella’s hand flew up to lightly touch her throat. Thor! Thor himself here! She was a devout Christian all of her life and now she had met not only one but two pagan gods! What on earth was she going to tell her Sunday School when she returned?

Thor kept talking excitedly, his handsome smile shining on his face.

“Why, how happy I am Loki had finally settled on a lady! He had several princesses in the past show interest, but they never liked him or he never liked them, and-”

“Oh no! I’m not his…his….his companion of that sort. This is a palace he made and I am only the guest here.” she answered.

Yet, what more did this god of thunder have to say? What was he like? What sort of powers? What was it like to be a god? She had no fear now, only curiosity.

“Prince Thor, would you like to stay for some tea?”

“Why, tea sounds wonderful Lady Stella!” he replied.

Calling her that made her smile. If this prince was a burglar, he was the nicest burglar she had ever met.

Giving him tea and a tray of biscuits, she told him about how she ended up here. Then she asked him to clarify more about Loki and him. Thor informed her that they were princes of Asgard, sons of King Odin and Queen Frigga and that he was the eldest brother and in line for the throne. Thor answered questions about Asgard. She brought out a sketchbook she found in the library and Thor drew the realms of the map. Stella was awed at it. Her world had been small in the marshes- to think there were so many other realms with so many other lives and people and their stories! How big everything was and she was just one tiny speck on a circle that moved between Midgard and Asgard.

Thor was munching on perhaps his tenth biscuit by now. Not that it stopped his talking.

“We hear that the Frost Giants wish to try to take over again- those are the ones in Jotunheim! They won’t touch a hair on my brother's head anymore. One day, I will find King Laufey to defeat him in battle!” he boasted, pumping his fist.

“It is natural to be protective of one’s family,” she commented.

Thor wiped the crumbs off his beard. “Maybe that’s why Loki’s been hiding since the battle- he’s scared of them!”

“Hiding?” she prodded.

Thor nodded, sucking down his tea.

“He has been away for some time. Father won’t tell me why, and Mother seems strong. But sometimes I think I hear her crying from a distance. You must find Loki when he shows up next- tell him that she misses him! That he has to come home!”

She clasped her hands on her lap and gave him a smile.

“I will be glad to do so. I have been able to persuade him into a few things recently, so I think he might listen to me,” she said.

“How good of you, Lady Stella!” Thor declared.

Before she could say, he slammed down his teacup, making her jump and gasp aloud in surprise, demanding another cup of tea.

The magic palace fixed the teacup back to normal, and Stella, her heart slowing down after that surprise, poured him another.

That evening, she waited for him at dinner. She was adorned with her hair up in a bun and another ballgown. It was navy blue and had little stars adorned across it, making her look like the night sky. She began to eat a little after her stomach rumbled.

She knew it was past sunset, but there was no response. Nothing. No sign of the trickster god.

“Loki?” she asked.

Her voice echoing was the only reply.

Enough time had passed. He required her to fulfil the bargain and here she was just as she had been every night for some time now. What was going on?

She got up from her chair. She passed the lush banquet and went down one hall. It had another marble floor, but there were windows with the red, velvet curtains drawn. There was a hall of doors.

She heard a sound like a grunt from the door in the far corner on her right. Green lights flashed from it.

She walked carefully closer to it. There was another flash of light, only it was light blue. And another frustrated huff.

She had heard similar huffs of frustration from a certain office for over a decade. There was no doubt now Loki was behind.

She was now at the door and realized it had creaked open.

Her eyes went to the opening. She gently said his name.

“Loki, wher-”

She saw him and her voice turned into a gasp, cupping her mouth

Loki was definitely there. The room was a smaller library with neater bookshelves and a fireplace. He stood in the center over a high table with a book full of runes on it.

But he looked different.

His skin was a bright blue and his eyes red.

Loki turned, his red eyes wide as he noticed her. Stella froze where she was, for she could not run. Was this some new enchantment he could do? Was he practicing and was that why he was late?

Yet his face turned into a frown, his teeth gritted. His red eyes glared at her. She should have run, she should have screamed. Yet she could not move.

He turned his back on her, his voice angry as he tried to cover his own face.

“Don’t- don’t look Stella! Go away!” he ordered angrily. The tone in his voice speared her heart.

“Are you hurt?” she insisted. “I was wondering why you were missing and-”

“I said to go away!” Loki barked. “And don’t look!”

Normally she would run. But something in her intuition told her to stay. There was a hurt to his voice that stirred her. He needed someone by him.

She walked inside cautiously.

“I…I am sorry I peeked in, but…Loki…”

His back was still turned. She could see bits of his blue neck beneath his raven curls. He stood before the fire.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

“No! I’m not hurt at all!” he replied, something of a choked sob in his voice.

He was behaving no better then Jo when she was four years of age.

“But your skin…did someone do this to you? do you need an ointment?” she asked.

She reached out a hand to gently touch his shoulder. He flinched away and then turned around. She took in his cerulean skin and how much brighter it made his red eyes appear.

“I don’t need the healers! Norns! I just- I’m just doing a spell and-”

She peeked and saw him uncurl his hand and clench it. His skin turned to white and his eyes to blue. But she saw there were still tears in his eyes, despite the stubborn frown on his head.

“What is happening?” she asked. “You don’t get this upset taking another person's form. Please, I’d like to know.”

She insisted he sit on the chair. She had him magic over another mug of tea and some sandwiches on a tray. They sat on the floor before the fire.

“Do you know what a Frost Giant is?” he asked.

“Yes. I hear they’re considered your enemy here,” Stella responded. She could discuss Thor and his family later.

Loki kept his eyes on the fire.

“All children in Asgard are taught to be terrified of them Stella…this is my true form. I’m a runt of a Frost Giant. Left behind as a baby to die in a tundra. Unwanted since the moment I was born. All of my life I was told of beasts who slaughter innocents. Only to realize I had to look in the mirror to see one.”

Stella’s eyes softened at him.

“Loki…that’s…that’s horrible…”

“I’m going to control it. Hide it. Push it away so no one will tell, no one will be able to see. I will be dead, I won’t be nothing, I’ll prove to father I’m worthy, I will!” he hissed. He slammed a fist onto his lap.

Stella leaned forward.

“May I see it again, please? Just once.” she asked.

He turned to her and swallowed. But he only turned his forearm and hand blue.

“May I?” she asked.

He gave her his arm and hand. She put her hand beneath his to lift it and then, with her other hand, pressed a finger on his blue palm.

“It’s cold. Cold like snow on Christmas, like a steam on a summer’s day, like a chapel in the morning…those aren’t bad things…” she consoled.

She traced up to his forearm. He felt himself shiver at her touch, his body stirring at the press of her hand on his skin. A tingling he kept down. She looked quietly and carefully.

“Could I have the box with my collection, please?” she asked.

He easily conjured it to the room. She lifted the lid and set it aside. She took out some trinkets- spoons, shells, bottles. She set them in the air like a painter, next to his hand.

Then she looked in and smiled. She got out two pebbles. Then she got out her diary and opened to the first page. She got out a pressed flower. Setting them in her hands, she moved them close to Loki’s hand.

“See! They’re the very color of your skin!” she sheered.

As Loki looked down, he saw she was right. The shade of the flower and the pebbles matched the skin of his Jotunheim form.

“Now, if only there was a box big enough, I could add you too!” she teased.

He did not reprimand her for her joke, even if he had every right to. He looked up at her.

“What about blue makes it your favorite color? Why collect blue things and not something…something red or green?” Loki asked.

She traced her finger again over the pebbles and flowers. She then smiled at the other miscellaneous things she pulled out.

“It’s the color of peace. The color of heaven. It represents the sky and the sea- the two things we think of when we discuss eternity. It’s rare in nature, for it is a sacred color. Blue dye once had to be imported, for it was costly. They say that Mary wore a blue shroud. It is the color of serenity…of kindness…”

She set the items down. Though his hand was as cold as ice, it felt good on her against the warm fire. His eyes shone up at her.

“Your skin is beautiful when it’s blue. And you shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”

Loki took in a deep breath and then shook his head.

“But…the Frost Giants are…are hated…hated!”

“I don’t hate you,” she replied.

He blinked, squinting his eyes further at her. She kept her sweet smile at him.

“What? You…you don’t?” he asked.

She released his hand and began gathering her things to put back into the box.

“I’m not your servant or misteress here. You saved my life and my health. Could a truly monstrous person do that?”

His eyes sparkled. She set them back in and sealed the lid. She looked back up at him, her plate of food untouched, as was his.

“Loki, if you think my husband is so hateful, so bad…. if I could love him, how could I think less of you? Not from anything you freely chose to do, but because of how you were born? I wish you didn’t discover it in this way, and despite what I have heard…I don’t agree about Frost Giants. They can be good and kind…”

“The stories…” Loki began muttering.

“Maybe the stories are wrong,” she suggested.

She handed him a cup of tea. His magic was starting to melt back to his usual pale color, except for his hand.

He noticed that the tea set was white except for the blue flowers painted all over it. Of course, it was in relation to Stella being the one staying here.

Looking down at his hand while it was still blue, he saw that the petals of the flower on his cup matched the shade of a Frost Giant's skin.

For once, at least for a minute, he did not feel ashamed.

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girl-in-the-chairs-void · 2 years ago

Note

Hug prompts

[ OH MY GOD ] for a hug in response to one muse learning that the other’s still alive.

Bob x pilot!reader where a mission goes a little wrong and someone has to eject out of their plane while the other listens on comms.

This idea reminds me so much of the last few chapters of antidotes and poisons…BUT we must stay focused!!

Bob Floyd x pilot!wife!reader

Bob was a reserved person. Everyone was aware of it. Having trained as a WSO his entire piloting career, he had learned not to overstate. Especially when it came down to his personal life.

He was serving in Lemoore when he got the call from Admiral Cyclone to come back to Top gun. What was more of a surprise was when he found out that you had been ordered to do the same that night.

Not many people knew about your relationship, both of you weren’t in contact with a lot of your fellow graduates from Top Gun but you knew of a few. Some of the names being: Natasha “Phoenix” Trace, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia. They were one of the best being called back. You met all of them in your first day at the Hard Deck. Sat next to Bob as you both quietly sipped on your drinks.

This mission was not going to be an ordinary one.

Turns out it wasn’t an ordinary one. Top gun had called back 14 of its best graduates for a uranium transplant mission. Even Pete “Maverick” Mitchell was called back to train all of you for this.

It was the second week of training that was the most difficult. G-LOC was a terrifying experience for any aviator, especially when death was around the corner.

You sat in the radio room. The rest of the teams dispersed around the room as you all listened to the exercise play out. Phoenix, Bob and Coyote were up for the exercise. Coffin corner, as Mav had called it, was meant to be the extreme hill climb.

So far, no one had made out of it the same. It wasn’t looking any good for your husband that was in the air either.

“bird strike!”

You heard his frantic voice over the radio, leaning forward in the tiny stool, fingers rotating your wedding bad anxiously. The cackling only got louder and all you could hear was your heart pumping through your brain and Mav screaming;

“EJECT EJECT EJECT”

Before you could register anything else, you were on your feet and running to the tarmac. Praying that they were okay.

He landed a couple minuets later, two air ambulances had passed by in that time you were pacing back and forth.

“They’ve taken them to the hospital, they don’t know what is going to happen but they are most likely to be kept overnight.” Maverick greeted you with a small tight lipped smile, a sign of reassurance if anything.

“I can give you the address, if you’d like?” He questioned tentatively, not knowing the depth of your and Bob’s relationship but the fact that you two were close.

“That would be great, captain.”

His eyes landed on the wedding band in your grasp and he was able to put two and two together, handing you the address immediately. But before he could say anything about the situation you were taking off in the direction of your car.

Entering the hospital in a short of breath, you reached the reception desk, handing them the names of your husband and friend.

“May I ask your relationship to the patient?”

“I’m his wife. And Ph-Natasha’s friend.” You clarified.

“Thank you,” she affirmed before typing away on her computer, “they are in room 421, 2nd floor.”

“Thank you so much.”

The elevator took too long for your liking as you shifted on one door to the other. It was then you took notice of the amount of stares you were being give and realised you were still in your flight suit. Your badge and gear still attached. You gave the old lady next to you a small smile as she scrunched her nose the smell of sweat that you were giving off in the stuffy elevator.

You let out a thankful breath as the doors to the second floor opened, running through the corridor to look for their room.

418…419…420…421. Stopping in your tracks, you stood outside his room. The small window giving you a peek of him being examined by a doctor. A wave of fresh tears rolled down your cheeks as you noticed the bandaged and scratches on him.

Reluctantly you opened the door, both men looking in the direction of your intrusion.

“Hello…” you began, stumbling into the room.

“You must be Mrs. Floyd. We were just talking about you.”

“Oh, uhh, is it alright if I come in?” You asked the bearded man. He gave you a reassuring smile before taking a step back, motioning to Bob;

“He is all yours, Ma’am.”

You chuckled, stepping away from the was you let the man take his leave. You and Bob were the only ones left in the room. The only noise that came was from the AC that was mounted on the wall, blowing cold air in the small room causing you to shiver.

You slowly made your way towards him, careful not to trip in your worry. His eyes were glossy as you neared him, glasses long forgotten about on the bedside table as he opened his arms to let you in. He took notice of your tear stained face, he felt guilty about causing you pain, he always did even when it wasn’t his fault.

You clutched onto him for dear life, mindful of avoiding any bandaged areas to not cause him further pain. He tucked your head into his neck, rubbing your back up and down as your sniffles became quiet sobs.

“Oh my god..”

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby. I’m here.”

“I- I thought..you..” you hiccuped, struggling to let out the words but he caught on. Carefully cradling you in his arms as he kissed the side of your head gently.

“I know baby. I’m okay, I’m with you here. You didn’t have to come all the way here, I was going to call you.”

You pulled back from him slightly, not letting go of his sides. Your brows were scrunched in confusion as you looked up at your husband.

“What do you mean you were going to call? In sickness and in health, do you not remember?”

His heart skipped a beat at the reminder of your vows. One he had taken all those years ago, of course he remembers them. But you were in the middle of training and it would have caused suspicion between the squad that you left immediately after.

Regardless, he smiled lovingly at you. Kissing your brows to smooth out the dents of confusion.

“Of course I remember. But…”

Nah uh, no buts. You are okay, that’s all that matters.” You kissed his jaw gently, cupping his cheeks before moving to his lips. They were chapped and rough but regardless you kissed him.

You heart skipped multiple bears in that moment, fireworks blasting their way into your stomach as you kissed him. It never felt tedious to kiss him, he always managed to make it feel like the first time. Causing you to act like a giddy teenager.

You pulled away, resting your forehead against his as you let out a shaky breath.

“Please don’t die on me, okay?”

“As long as you promise to do the same.” He raised his hand to his chest, extending his pinky finger towards you, encouraging you to take it.

You chuckled through your tears, wrapping your pinky finger around his as he shook it up and down before leaning in to kiss you again.

A/n; I apologise for taking so long to respond to all your requests btw. but where can I get a Bob husband??? Thank you so much anon for awaking my need to get a husband like Bob Floyd. 😭😭 Regardless than kyiu so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it?? Let me know what you think (feedback is always appreciated)?🫶🏻🫶🏻

Tags:

@lemur46 @elicheel @arson-tm @bussyslayer333 @roosterbruiser @roostersrooster @tongue-like-a-razor @ravenhood2792

#robert bob floyd #bob Floyd #bob Floyd x reader #bob floyd x female reader #Bob Floyd x wife reader #top gun maverick #Pav answers #Requests

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redsasexualdisaster · 3 months ago

Text

more kittycrons [part 2 😳]

the meowning after

it was not the chill of the morning breeze that woke nemesor zanrdekh today, but the feeling of movement. the soft breathing motions of his beloved vargard. the somali cat burried his pink nose into the warm pelt, and sneezed. he blinked awake and saw long grey fur. obyron was brown furred and muscular. oh. now in his wiser years, zandrekh did not keep a habit of waking up next to strangers and he began to worry how he could possibly have awoken next to his phaeron.

obyron was a heavy sleeper by nature and before he and zandrekh had entered a relationship he would not have startled awake from certain sounds. like his nemesors noises of fear. his head was up in seconds and he let out a worried meow. the nemesor's ears were flattened and he dove under obyron's back leg, afraid and trembling. it took some time and calming purrs for him remind his nemesor where they were, and that he was safe as they went over the previous nights events. 'i am here, dear nemesor. the sky is light and we,' he gestured to a sleeping imotekh, then to the somali with his snout, 'are all safe.'

he could feel zandrekh purring softly in attempt to destress. the rumbling of obyron's voice was soothing and he was well practiced in grounding his partner when reality could become frightening. it was slowly coming back… the phaeron's conversation about an uprising of flayed ones… the abrupt appearance of obyron and the damned winter cold that froze his joints. they had warmed him together that night. it was romantic…

as a phaeron imotekh has never allowed himself to indulge in unnecessary things outside the battlefield. and on the battlefield, where a sharp mind was needed and reflexes were what kept him alive. breathing and moving and eating when strength was low, and sleeping only when he knew he was safe - those were neccessary. but when he woke well rested and calm enough to have no need to think upon the problems of yesterday, he realised that he may have actually been relaxed. and comfortable in the company of others. he was not used to this. seeing zandrekh and his… obyron, he remembered now. they were grooming each other and chirping happily. he wasn't jealous…

he let out a yawn, tasting the air. 'later than i imagined…' he mused, made to roll onto his back and stretch his legs when he felt a soft prodding at his side.

'good meowning, my lord. may i be so bold as to ask if i can assist with your pelt?' zandrekh asked, looking much more alert then the night before. was the nemesor always so small? was imotekh's own pelt so unclean and scruffy as to bother such a tiny overlord?? standing up now, the difference in their view was more apparent. he remembered previously when the nemesor had tried to help groom him, and was unable to stop a trill of laughter coming out.

'ah. by yourself i do not recommend trying.' he almost felt bad for discouraging zandrekh's eagerness. but then he saw the handsome shape of obyron approach his partner.

'i can assist my nemesor if you are in need, my phaeron,' the jaguarundi being so close reminded him of obyrons strong paws squishing his back leg as he drooled in his sleep. cute…

now what was he to do with such helpful subjects… in a bold move, imotekh sat up straight and puffed out his chest putting his famous fur on display. zandrekh let out an appreciative noise.

'morning has yet to pass. service me it it pleases you, both.'

the three of them did a better job than when the phaeron had tended to himself, or when he and orikan used to outside of their plotting. since the cryptek sphynx had no fur he was quite terrible with the task.

if imotekh had never fought to the rank of phaeron, he supposed he would've done this with ordinary soldiers he might've called comrades. being a dynast meant comforts like trust or friendship were given up so it was almost pleasant to be cared for, not feared.

after cleaning and stretching and picking some large prey for them to share, the stormlord was stuck, well fed and relaxed against the cave wall, soft belly exposed as zandrekh rubbed against him with delight, and obyron was carefully licking away the blood from his face. they took note of each others facial scars. he gave the vargard a nudge with his nose. 'your back right leg. how bad is it?'

obyron was taken aback, he didn't expect anyone to take notice of yesterdays injury. was his phaeron testing him? the vargard gave his back legs a stretch hoping he didn't wince. the cold was a hinderance when it came to healing. the stormlord looked displeased.

'a minor concern, my lord. it won't affect my efforts, i assure you.' obyron was squashed by zandrekh then, the nemesor standing between the two.

'obyron, why didn't you say so? when was the last time a cryptek gave you a look over?' the vargard went on to explain how he'd been working harder than usual and had little time to look over cuts and scrapes, and even less time to see his overlord.

'these two were so open about their concerns and affections,' imotekh thought, definately not longing for when he had last felt like that.

'the cold brings out insurgents who ignore obvious risks, hoping for easy victories,' the forest cat confirmed. 'but nothing my soldiers can't handle.' he noticed zandrekh perk up at that. the little somali circled obyron, his tail tracing the larger cat as he walked. 'naturally, i will be leading with you in the charge. why, i'd depart for the hills right now if-' he stopped and remembered his frail body. 'well... after some rest i'm sure i'll be as spry as ever.'

the nemesor agreed to spend the nights with imotekh, obyron accompanying him thoughout the day. when the sky was dark and and cold mists were blowing, obyron flanked his partner towards the small cave again. he sat one rock step above while zandrekh took time to climb upwards. he refused all help offered by obyron so the jaguarundi could only offer encouraging chirps and a warm side to lean against. zandrekh saw the imposing figure of imotekh, pacing while his feathery tail swayed slowly, when they arrived. he must have been deep in thought till the somali announced their presence.

'ah, lord imotekh..' the cold night air made his voice tremble a tad. the comforting pressure of obyron next to him helped as they were guided towards his nest, which zandrekh noted now had extra fur and things for comfort.

'nemesor,' imotekh curled around his small body in welcome. 'vargard obyron. i trust that you are well?' he brushed his tail along obyron's side as they settled into a comfortable pile. zandrekh easily relaxed himself as the warmth of two very handsome cats eased his aches. it was near amusing seeing his love and his lord trying to adjust to the same situation all over again, while he was no stranger to a tryst or two in his youth...

'my lord,' obyron started, only after a soft nudge from zandrekh. he was apprehensive but still receptive to being held or… petted? he dipped his head down to avoid his phaeron's weighty gaze, rumbling quietly. zandrekh's purring kept him grounded.

'that we are,' the smaller nemesor stopped to yawn and turned towards obyron's round face, 'forgive me, my friend, but the journey here has tired me out.' he could hardly keep his eyes from closing, the feeling of safety and being lightly squished by his two protectors was heavenly for his frail body.

despite knowing his nemesor was leaving him to the mercy of the stormlord, obyron curled tighter around his small orange body wrapping his tail around too. they always fit together so well. 'rest well, zandrekh,' he murmured his lords name so only the tiniest of pointed ears could hear.

'night, my loves,' zandrekh mumbled, imotekh burrying his nose into the scruff of his neck. the forest cat was content listening to his nemesor's snores and stroking his vargard with his tail. until he realised that obyron was looking at him, warm brown eyes conflicted. that would not do.

'speak your mind, vargard.'

obyron dared not look directly at the stormlord, letting out a nervous warble. it had taken near a year to become accustomed to zandrekh's affections and sincerity. and now his phaeron was charming him - had already enamoured his lord zandrekh - and it was working?! he was so flustered.

'this soldier begs your forgiveness. i… am unaccustomed to such…' he was about to bow his head in shame before being interrupted.

'offering myself to your nemesor is my decision, you should be well aware that under my watch you need only concern yourself with his wellbeing,' his voice was low and he let out an appreciative purr. 'though i would indulge you just as much if desired.'

then obyron did lower his head to his paws. they chirped and trilled back and forth while obyron gathered his thoughts. he rested his head beside zandrekh's and against the stormlord's front, his chest fur hypnotically soft.

'for as long as my lord needs, i will be by your side, my nemesor,' he hoped this would suffice, and was answered with a soft head brushing against his as they curled closer together and drifted off to sleep.

obyron was dreaming. he was curled up and surrounded by warmth. he saw two bright eyes looking up at him, recognising the delicate features of his lord zandrekh. he smiled before he was gently headbutted as the somali tucked his head below obyron's and purr-growled in content. had his lord always been so large though? then a slight feeling of movement prodded against his stomach and he knew exactly what that meant.

'lord zandrekh, you are expecting kits..!' the jaguarundi was elated and fully of the belief they were his. he could feel gentle vibrations as the somali replied into his fur.

'any day now, my love. i know you'll make wonderful fathers..' this made obyron stop and think. and he felt another weight on his back, familliar and extra fluffy. their phaeron, obyron knew. imotekh rumbled with pride, and the feeling was mutual.

'while they will be possible successors of mine, they will always be our progyny first,' the forest cat nuzzled obyrons back, 'and if i could, i'd will it so you could continue my legacy too.' the jaguarundi purred with delight, leaning back to reciprocate his affections. he had to be dreaming knowing there was no way he could be so seduced by his lord without danger, and that his heart belonged only to zandrekh .

maybe in another life it could be so.

-----

i have too much free time to recover from things so its time for more ooc catcron fics. somehow i keep making multiships but its more fun. maybe someday i can move on to writing necrontyr or people ? §(*￣▽￣*)§

#meowcrontyr #catcrons ?#enjoy/suffer my curse #is that my new writing tag?

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anhed-nia · 6 months ago

Text

It's always a little sad when one of your precious niche fetishes gets popular. I'm not proud of admitting this; on the whole, you should want success for the things that you love. But in some cases it's like the sad stereotype of the childhood weird girl friendship that is doomed by the onset of adulthood. The friendship is such an important of your identity and your sense of place in the world, but then one day your weird girl friend starts to realize that she has more potential than that, she wants other things and she can get them too, and suddenly one day she's back to her natural hair color and she's wearing bad clothes and having sex with jocks, and even worse than your personal sense of being left behind is the realization that she's boring now. It's not just that you don't have that special person in your life anymore, it's that the person no longer exists. Um anyway that turned out to be a major exaggeration of what I was trying to say about the explosion in popularity of folk horror, which was previously one of my favorite flavors of horror; I mean I guess it still is, but the now when I see the trappings of folk horror it's no longer a must-see matter. It's just as likely to signal a generic, predictable, pandering movie as anything else.

Why has folk horror blown up like this? Kier-la Janisse would tell you that it's because of her epic documentary WOODLANDS DARK AND DAYS BEWITCHED, which is genuinely great and you should see it. But I have a sense of today's folk horror boom being "an idea whose time has come", something that is emerging in the popular consciousness because of our collective experiences. Like it's probably not a coincidence that folk horror has come into focus at the same time that the trad wife trend is happening, and witchtok has become a thing. I could say some pretty hackneyed things about the psychological effects of the digital age and our increasingly technologized, disembodied existence, but I will just let you imagine them instead.

Even though I know that the whiff of folk horror no longer promises me a great time, I still watch new specimens pretty slavishly, and LORD OF MISRULE doesn't totally suck. Actually it's tense and interesting for quite a stretch, up until you realize that it really isn't pursuing any big ideas. But my favorite part of it is--this is one of my favorite things in general, where something outrageous happens in a movie and the characters have a completely bizarre reaction: A child is abducted during an old pagan festival, and the parents slowly realize this is no ordinary crime. Actually the mom realizes immediately that something fucked up is happening while the husband keeps trying to do things by the books, almost hilariously, even after they stumble upon something so appalling that it's hard to even describe. I wish I had a screenshot for you. They find this piece of...art?...that's like a dripping wet animal hide wrapped around a hideous diorama involving baby dolls and all this shit, and underneath it is text that says HE STANDS IN THE FIELD AND WAITS. The whole thing is incredibly repulsive and shocking and you can't even begin to imagine who would make such a thing, like the fact that it even exists is really bad news in and of itself...and then the husband is driving them home calmly musing, "Hmm, WHO stands in the field and waits?", as if the most interesting thing is the exact meaning of this caption and NOT the fact that they've seen one of the most arrestingly disgusting objects that you could possibly stumble upon. I really wish the rest of the movie lived up to that one construction, but I guess nobody else found that as exciting as I did!

#not blogtober #lord of misrule #folk horror

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litrumi · 6 months ago

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(Main Story FINALE Spoilers) "A Drop of Light in the Night"

*(Note: These are VAGUE, ambiguous spoilers for my fanfic. But I couldn't stop thinking about it, so I absolutely just needed to write this down. Even if they might not be part of the final product, which is an EON from now. Only time will tell.)*

Any of these tracks fit: Machine in the Wall (Mausoleum) or Innocence Mangled (Depths)

Italics = Inner thoughts "Quotes" = Talking aloud

Enjoy!

Even though we walk on and on, it almost feels like no progress is being made whatsoever.

I just can't shake the feeling we're in another one of those instances...

But the pup behind me doesn't seem all that worried.

"You're not even a little scared?" I ask as we keep going down the dark, cramped, and rocky path.

I hear a small chuckle from him. "We've gone through how many whacky and dangerous adventures now?" He replies. "Besides, we've known about this place for almost a year by this point. I'm surprised this is the first time we're exploring it."

"Only because that research-obsessed elephant wants to know what's down here..." I sigh. "Why didn't he tag along?"

"You could've asked that same question about literally every other time," the dog tells me with a sheepish grin. "Does this place really make you that anxious? It's not nearly as crazy as everything else. And we haven't even heard about a single thing happening around here until now."

"I just have a very intense sort of bad feeling about this place..." I admit, focusing on keeping Dogday's hand held in my own as we venture further, with me taking the lead.

And even though I look at these cave walls, no matter how they all look the same and formed as one would expect the innards of a rocky formation to be, some of these spots give off a familiarity to them.

"Well, when we get back, maybe we can just tell Bubba that we don't wanna go exploring anymore," Dogday suggests. "We'll make this our last expedition, if you want," He smiles at me. Then he looks at a pocket watch he holds in his hand. He examines it, and tilts his head when he notices something funny. "That's weird..."

"Hm?" I sound out, stopping us in our tracks and turning myself to look at him. "What've you got there, Pup?"

"Oh, didn't you hear that last part of the page he found?" He asks me directly.

I muse on the thought. "All I remember was him saying that the page hinted at 'letting reality guide us to our destiny' or something like that," I explain.

"Well, he also said something about wanting to know how long we've been in here once we got started, so I borrowed this from him before we left," he looks back at the watch, shaking it a bit. "But maybe this thing is just broken... I swear it's gotta have been at least thirty minutes by now."

"Let me see," I say, as he then gives the pocket watch over to me. Holding it in my other free hand, I look at it closely.

The canine rubs the back of his head with his other hand. "It's at the same time from when I checked, you know, as soon as we started walking around," he says.

But even as I look at the watch, I notice that not a single hand is moving. Not even the hand representing "seconds passing."

Then, my eyes widen.

Oh no...

Frantically, I look around us.

"Huh? What is it?" Dogday curiously asks.

With so many sudden and worrying thoughts running through my head...

This just can't be. This doesn't make any sense.

I don't see anything or anyone out of the ordinary, but I tense up because the atmosphere now feels so much more sinister than before.

I don't like this.

I really don't like any of this...

"Catnap, what's wrong?" He wants to know what I'm thinking.

It is another one of those times...

Where time means nothing.

"Dogday," I look at him instantly.

"W- What is it, Kitty?" He looks at me with a little concern.

"No matter what," I begin, my body shaking a little. "Stay close to me and don't let go of my hand. Never let go," I plead.

"Huh?" His eyes widen a little.

"And please, please promise me," I gulp, feeling a lump in my throat. "Promise me... that you'll watch your back."

"What?" He seems unsure yet saddened. His own brain is trying to comprehend my fluctuation in emotions. "Don't you mean 'our' backs?"

I shake my head vigorously. "No," I tell him. "No matter what, please, watch YOUR back."

He doesn't understand. He seems more perplexed and worried than anything else. We stand in silence as he tries to process my request.

But I mean exactly what I said.

And even though he would usually try to lighten the mood and calm the tension, I could tell he knew exactly what I was feeling. He could sense just how deathly terrified and serious I was.

"..." He blinks, looking at the ground only for a moment before letting our eyes meet again. "...G- Got it..." He nods.

I grip his hand even tighter in my own. "...Good," I nod in return, believing he understands the situation better.

Without another word, we press on. But now everything just feels heavier. And it's a mess we no longer can just leave behind so easily.

Please... I'm begging whoever's out there... If there's really anyone at all...

I hope and pray, marching on into the darkness with the one I care about most.

...Just let us get out of this, together, in one piece.

That's all I ask.

Anything's subject to change when I get to this point in the story. Just thought I'd leave that out there. I definitely wanna give this portion the vibe of "This is it, it's almost the end... There's just one last thing to do."

And all that. Yup! That's it! Take care~

#catnap #dogday #catnap x dogday #dogday x catnap #daynap #sleepyday #smiling critters #smiling critters au #ADLN

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 1 year ago

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By: Eliza Mondegreen

Published: Dec 14, 2023

This was no ordinary medical conference. Over the course of three days, I learned a great many things. That eunuchs are one of the world’s oldest gender identities and that doctors should not judge their strange desires for castration but fulfil them. That, “ideally, patients wouldn’t be actively psychotic” when they initiated testosterone, but that psychotic patients consent to take medication like stool softeners and statins all the time and “people don’t pay that much attention”. That it would be “ableist” to question an autistic girl’s insistence on a double mastectomy. That patients who claim to have multiple personalities that disagree about which irreversible steps to take toward transition can find consensus — or at least obtain a quorum — using a smartphone app.

It is hard to shock me these days — but as I moved around the World Professional Association for Transgender Health’s symposium in Montreal in September 2022, I often felt as if I’d slipped sideways into some strange universe that operated in accordance with other laws: where up is down and girls are boys and medicine has left its modest brief — healing — far behind in its breathless pursuit of transcendence.

I wasn’t really supposed to be there. I hadn’t misrepresented myself — I am what I claimed to be: a graduate student researching gender identity — but this was a convocation for believers and I’m a sceptic. When WPATH, the world’s most prestigious and influential gathering in transgender healthcare, came to Montreal, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to see up close the people and ideas I had pursued through so many articles and books.

I wanted to know what gender clinicians were saying behind closed doors. I wanted to see how they understand the work they do, the patients they serve, and the criticism they face. That’s why I began attending WPATH conferences, starting with the symposium in Montreal, followed by the European Professional Association for Transgender Health conference in Killarney, Ireland, in April, and the US Professional Association for Transgender Health conference in Denver, Colorado, just a few weeks ago.

After years of flying under the radar, the field of transgender health care is facing serious questions about whether minors can consent to life-altering interventions; what role factors like autism, sexual orientation, and social influence may play in the explosion of children and young people identifying as trans; and what to make of mounting evidence of medical harm, regret, and detransition. In response, the field of trans healthcare is becoming ever more secretive. There is a sharp demarcation between what gender clinicians say in public and what they say in private.

At these conferences, the big questions confronting transgender health care hardly feature. Instead, these conferences serve a different purpose: to shore up the faithful and cultivate a revolutionary vanguard within medicine. To this end, the proceedings revolve around a strange set of parables: that of the good gender clinician and the bad gender clinician.

In this world, being a good gender clinician means deferring to patients’ self-understandings and having the humility to serve even what one does not understand. The mark of a good gender clinician is her credulity in the face of brave new manifestations of gender.

“People outside this room get hung up on questions like ‘How can we make sure people are really trans and are not going to regret their transition later?’” one gender clinician in Denver mused. “I’m interested in giving the very best possible care to trans young people, the care that they need and deserve… it’s easy to roll down this pathway of ‘how do you know if somebody’s going to change their mind?’ or ‘how do you know if somebody’s really trans or not?’ and that’s not the conversation I’m really participating in.”

It’s difficult to imagine clinicians practising in other areas of medicine not asking such basic questions, especially when the basis for treatment is so murky. But a good gender clinician, looking at a patient, does not see what non-believers like you or I might see. A good clinician falls under the sway of the same fantasy as the patient and conspires with her to bring her transgender self into existence. Under this framework, there is no “really trans” or not. There is only what the patient says and the readiness of the clinician to put herself at the service of the patient’s vision.

A bad gender clinician, by contrast, feels an “entitlement to know” why a patient feels the way she does or why she seeks a particular intervention. She clings to a traditional conception of her role as a “gatekeeper” who evaluates and prescribes. She thinks she can “discern a ‘true’ gender identity beyond what is articulated by the patient”. She may believe she can “identify the ‘root cause’ of a transgender identity”, which is seen as pathologising. She may try to leave the door open to desistance — the most common outcome before gender clinicians started interfering with normal development by deploying puberty-blocking drugs — in which case she is guilty of “valuing cis lives over trans lives”.

A bad gender clinician is easily “intimidated” by complicated patients, while a good gender clinician knows how to secure consent even in the trickiest cases. Mental health difficulties become “mental health differences”. Severe autism or thinking you have multiple personalities living inside your head become empowering forms of “neurodiversity”. When it comes to assessment, “careful” and “comprehensive” have become dirty words: “The answer always seems to be more assessment and more time. That’s gatekeeping.”

During the Denver conference, presenters role-played how to secure informed consent for a hysterectomy and phalloplasty in the case of a schizophrenic, borderline autistic, intellectually disabled “demiboy” with a recent psychiatric hospitalisation. At no point do the role-players encounter any real barriers. Instead, they persevere. At first, the patient struggled to understand why a phalloplasty might require multiple surgeries, but then the clinicians “explained everything” and the patient understood. This is called “lean[ing] into the nuance of capacity”.

The moral of this story is clear: failure to achieve informed consent is a failure on the part of the clinician, a failure of imagination and flexibility, not a recognition that some patients — whether because of age or mental illness or intellectual disability — will simply not be able to consent.

On WPATH’s private forums, clinicians occasionally express reservations about what they’re being expected to do, such as the social worker who wondered whether she should write letters for surgery for “several trans clients with serious mental illness… Even though these clients have a well-established trans gender identity, their likely stability post initiation of HRT [hormone-replacement therapy] or surgery is difficult to predict. What criteria do other people use to determine whether or not they can write a letter supporting surgical transition for this population?”

Her colleagues quickly put her in her place: “My feeling is that, in general, mental illness is not a reason to withhold needed medical care from clients,” an “affirming, anti-oppressive” gender therapist responded. “My assumption is that you’re asking this question because you’re taking seriously your responsibility to care for and guide your clients. Unfortunately, though, I think the broader context in which this question even exists is one in which we, as mental health professionals, have been put inappropriately into gatekeeper roles. I’m not aware of any other medical procedure that requires the approval of a therapist. I think requiring this for trans clients is another way that our healthcare system positions gender-affirming care as ‘optional’ or only for those who can prove they deserve it.”

Another gender clinician referred dismissively to the recommendation that mental illness should be “well controlled” before initiating hormonal and surgical interventions: “I am personally not invested in the ‘well controlled’ criterion phrase unless absolutely necessary… in the last 15 years I had to regrettably decline writing only one letter, mainly [because] the person evaluated was in active psychosis and hallucinated during the assessment session. Other than that, everyone got their assessment letter, insurance approval, and are living [presumably] happily ever after.” Everything hinges on that “presumably”.

For years, gender clinicians have reassured patients and parents that the evidence would eventually bear out the lofty promises of transition: that transition is life-saving; that psychotherapeutic approaches to gender distress don’t work and instead constitute unethical “conversion therapy”. But as the data starts to come in, transition appears unlikely to live up to these high expectations.

During the Ireland conference, researchers bracketed discouraging findings with upbeat statements of belief such as: “We all know gender-affirming care is effective.” A Swedish researcher who found that psychiatric hospitalisation increased after patients initiated puberty blockers or cross-sex hormones told the audience that she was “really concerned”, not about the results themselves, but “about how results will be interpreted” because, “as you all know, there are improved mental health outcomes following puberty blockers and gender-affirming hormones” — even when the research can’t find those benefits.

“There’s an expectation that gender-affirming hormones will improve somebody’s mental health problems,” Johanna Olson-Kennedy, one of the leading US gender clinicians, said on the opening night of the Denver conference. Why? Because “they improve gender congruence”. In other words, if a patient doesn’t want breasts and a surgeon removes her breasts, the treatment was a success, even if her mental health deteriorates and even if she experiences regret down the road. Clinicians dismiss detransition as one of multiple possible “attenuations” of gender identity, alongside “elf”, “fairy”, and “friendly non-intimidating woman”. If a patient changes her mind later, clinicians can simply treat this new manifestation of gender incongruence by the same means: no harm, no foul.

Meanwhile, gender clinicians speak with remarkable frankness about overcoming their reservations, including the plastic surgeon who recounted the alarm he felt the first time a patient requested gender nullification surgery: an intervention that involves removing all external genitalia to create a “smooth” Ken doll-like appearance. But this surgeon soon conquered his hang-ups: he now performs “a lot” of these surgeries and promotes the procedure to his more cautious colleagues. These kinds of stories frame doubt as something to be vanquished, not investigated.

And if doubts persist, there’s always emotional blackmail. In Denver, an obese patient berated the plastic surgeons in the audience, telling them “you wouldn’t be hearing from me today” had the patient not found a surgeon willing to bend the rules and perform a double mastectomy: “I had contacted over a dozen plastic surgeons in the state of Colorado, all of them telling me they refused to do surgery on me. The surgery I so, so desperately needed so as to not kill myself. Only because of my BMI.”

So if a clinician dares to enforce standard medical practices or exercise her professional judgment, she may drive her desperate patients to suicide. The most questionable sessions end with no questions at all.

But what about the rest of us? What are we entitled to know about this bold new frontier in medicine? In Denver, public-relations specialists cautioned clinicians to spare reporters, policymakers, and parents the details of what “gender-affirming care” entails. In fact, even the use of the term “gender-affirming care” is discouraged: “When [people] hear it, they think ‘trans kids in the driver’s seat,’” health policy expert Kellan Baker said. “Many of us here, we all support trans kids in the driver’s seat because it’s their bodies, their lives. But when you think about folks who don’t know trans people, they are very scared by the idea that young people are making irreversible decisions and that nobody else has any oversight over these decisions. The term “medically-necessary care” is better, he said. “Essential medical care. Prescribed medical care.”

Presenters also recommended that gender clinicians avoid specifics. Avoid ages (“this care is highly individualised and age-appropriate”). Avoid giving information about the effects of puberty blockers and hormones. Avoid discussing the ins and outs of surgeries. In practice, “holding [the public’s] hands and helping [them] understand” looks more like covering their eyes and telling them whatever they need to hear to feel at ease. “The dinosaurs are scared,” Baker deadpanned.

This is how an entire field of medical practice became committed to virtuous obscurantism. Gender-affirming clinicians feel misunderstood by their critics. They don’t trust outsiders to put the work they do in the right light. There’s always a risk that someone will look at life-saving reconstructive chest surgeries for transmasculine minors and see the wrong thing: doctors performing breast amputations on troubled teen girls. Therefore, in order to defend the “life-saving” work they do, they must dissemble, obscure, or practise other forms of “heavenly deception”.

Critics of gender-affirming care fall somewhere along the spectrum of transphobia — with dinosaurs at one end, genocidaires at the other. In Ireland, a keynote speaker described “the gender-critical movement [as] a totalitarian and genocidal force that targets not just trans people but all institutions that uphold democracy and individual human rights”. In Denver, a state legislator announced that policymakers passing restrictions on youth gender transition “will kill children. Not with their own hands. But they will.”

The result of this Manichean worldview is that there is no possible dialogue with critics and no room for serious dissent within the movement itself: “If we are fighting amongst ourselves the forces of oppression have won,” as outgoing USPATH president Maddie Deutsch put it. No one, at any conference, discussed the risks and unknowns around puberty blockers and their possible effects on brain development, or the evidence that suggests blockers may change the course of a child’s life by turning what may have been a developmental phase into a permanent condition.

In one of the most extraordinary moments in Ireland, outgoing EPATH president Jan Motmans said: “We respect everyone’s freedom of speech, but we choose not to listen to it.” The auditorium burst into applause. But the speech they’re choosing not to listen to is the mounting evidence that something has gone wrong in the field of gender medicine.

The conviction of being on the right side of history is why criticism doesn’t stick. Clinicians don’t see themselves reflected in critiques. They are, for the most part, decent people, capable of feeling genuine horror when they accidentally say “hey guys” instead of “hey folks”. Their best impulses — their empathy, their humility in the face of what they don’t understand, their sincere desire to help distressed patients — have been hijacked by an ideological movement within medicine. In the process, they have lost sight of what they do.

This blindness sets in more or less the moment a patient sets foot in a gender clinic — when a distressed girl transforms into a “boy” in need of affirmation. Gender clinicians see empowerment in overlooking a patient’s limitations. They have come to believe that medical responsibility to their patients requires them to dismantle the guardrails that stand between vulnerable patients and life-altering interventions.

Nothing illustrates this more clearly than a session on “neurodiversity-affirming gender-affirming care” in Denver, which overflowed with suggestions for clinicians working with autistic patients to achieve their surgical goals. To make autistic patients more comfortable, clinicians should dim the lights, keep an assortment of fidget toys on hand, drop the small talk, don’t try to make eye contact, avoid open-ended questions. If a patient won’t — or can’t — speak, the clinician should ask for a thumbs up or thumbs down. A good gender clinician helps patients anticipate the sensory reactions they might have to injections, surgeries, stitches, blood, and pain.

Over and over again, I’m struck by the realisation that these clinicians have thought of everything. Everything, that is, except: what if they’re wrong?

This would be better described as a religious convention.

This is faith, not medicine. And the opposite of science.

#Eliza Mondegreen #WPATH #World Professional Association for Transgender Health #gender ideology #queer theory #medical corruption #medical scandal #medical transition #medical malpractice #gender affirming care #gender affirming healthcare #gender affirmation #affirmation model #religion is a mental illness

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broodwolf221 · 19 days ago

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some pretty big spoilers and general musings

okay got halfway thru this and realized i'd need the meta banner lmao

i'm just getting started in act 2, and so far i am genuinely floored by this game

it's different, ofc! bc every game has been wildly different from its predecessors in this series. but i love it. right from the get-go i was invested in each companion, with only a few taking a little longer to develop more than a casual interest in, but it still didn't take long. i like that they're self-contained and individual, impacted but not defined by rook

i also love love LOVE the fact that they talk to each other. banter out in the world but also little conversations within the lighthouse, that's one of my very favorite mechanics this game has introduced

the scale of things is so wild, but i knew it was gonna be. solas wanted to tear down the veil, to disrupt something that has become, for better or worse, a basic structure of the known world

dao had a big scale, too, but it was comparatively contained and more familiar: a blight and an archdemon. immense challenges, certainly, but known within the larger game canon

da2 was very contained. a precision focus on a single city, really exploring how people - just ordinary people - were impacted over time by what was going on in the world

dai was about politics and the enormity of the breach; this tear in, again, a basic structure of the world

davg is about killing gods. it's about a lot more, too, ofc - but the underlying structure of scale is about an assault by the gods and a response to that. it's immense

but it's also pulled back down to the moment, the minutiae, the feelings of your companions, their personal struggles. in act one, we tried and failed to deal with things quickly. in act two, we realize that we need to attend to the needs of the team and the world, to build trust and relationships, before we can pursue this ultimate goal

and the fact that dai and davg (from what i've played of the latter) can both be viewed through the lens of following in solas' footsteps is hella poignant imo. it's like how in the bad magic future timeline in dai, leliana confronts us with the idea that this is all a bad dream, but it was real for her and for others, and it mattered. it's a nightmare for our character, something to be undone, to be quickly cleared away, but it was their reality, and how that always related to solas' perspective upon waking to a damaged world, one that he wanted to clear away; not out of malice or hatred, but out of deep concern and guilt and a powerful sense of personal responsibility

and then ofc the underlying, constant thread of loss of self, the replacement of the individual with the position they hold, their increasing inability to be a person when they have to constantly be an icon

and now, now we're the rebels, in many ways. rook is the leader and already losing bits of what makes them who they are to that role, but it's also about these underdogs fighting impossible odds. literally, rebels against gods

paying attention specifically to how these games work to foil solas' history, dai was about the loss of self to a title and the enormity of (political) decisions that will shape the world to come; davg is about being on the ground running and biting and snapping your teeth at the heels of something you cannot possibly win against but must keep trying to beat, of pulling back when you need to, living to fight another day

#da4 spoilers #davg spoilers #brood davg meta #broodmeta

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worldly-diversity · 10 months ago

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@questionablemuses ○ 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝 𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕧𝕠𝕩 ○

⤷ 『 Angel lifts his head & only groans when he sees Vox. "Please, don't tell Val I'm here." He sounded absolutely wasted, his color paler than normal & his eyes not entirely focusing. "This was the closest place I could crash fer awhile. I'm not even staying here that long."

He gazes tiredly up at the other overlord, wincing slightly. "I'll do anythin' you want. Just don't rat me out." 』

Periodic cursory camera inspections had informed him that Angel had left the studio and Val had ascended the tower. Being finished with his own work for the time being he thusly intended to head up himself and enjoy the evening with his fellows, mayhap even plot some more mayhem for them to execute.

Instead, the recent scan informed him of something out of the ordinary— Pink fur collapsed over a table. In the private section of Vox' own tower. What the actual fuck. Surely the little prick knows Vox has no sympathy towards him? Yet he's hiding in Vox' area rather than going back to that tacky project of a hotel the princess is working on.

It's child's play to observe the security footage as he turns around and begins the leisurely walk back to his own section. Guess Angel had been having bad enough of a day he'd barely made it out of the tower and had assumed, correctly, that going outside in this state would make him easy pickings for whoever wanted to have a go at him.

Whether putting himself at Vox' not so tender mercies was a step up from that, however…

His shoes click on the polished floor, hands clasped idly behind his back as he takes in the spider demon's appearance and approaches him. The intent was to scold him, maybe coerce him into a mild concession or two depending on how the conversation went, and then delivering him back to Val because it was a surefire way to fix the moth's mood when he got pissy. Just give him what he wants and poof— No more temper tantrum.

What Angel actually offers him without even being prompted however— Oh the options! The little fool is actually giving Vox a stupid amount of power over him right now and all of it is fuelled by the fear of what Valentino was going to do to him if he found out Angel tried to leave in a state like that.

Where even had he found the booze to look this drunk? Then again, it could be the drugs too, he's well aware that Val likes to supply him in order to keep him malleable and attached even beyond the ties of the contract. A contract that offered the arachnid an unprecedented amount of freedom compared to others who were foolish enough to feed an overlord's power.

Now, how to proceed…

Stepping forward he slips his clawed fingers under Angel's jaw, a slightly sharp simulation of cupping his cheek which he uses to assess the other's state. Well and truly fucked up, probably in more ways than one considering what Val got up to in that studio of his.

"You sure know how to get yourself into trouble, huh Anthony?" He mused, a sardonic smirk on his screen which was only kept minimal by his exerted self-control. Angel was offering himself for the promise of safety for just a little longer. Just a little more— Always more. That's just how these types are, but he can work with that.

Clawed fingers caressed the spider's cheek with far more gentleness than Vox ever cared to express towards the spider. Surely Angel knew that Vox disliked him? More specifically, Angel had taken to causing trouble for Valentino with his defiance, his backtalk, staying at the princess' hotel as though he could ever be redeemed when Valentino had a tight grip on his soul.

You can't let defiance like that go— Really, you can't. All it serves to do is undermine your power and reputation when people see that you let a slut like Angel get away with such disobedience and disrespect and do nothing about it. And it is nothing, for all that he's sure Angel's increased working hours beg to differ. It's not public though, and therein lies the crux of the matter.

Angel needs to fall into line, and he needs to look like he wants to be there. Nothing less will satisfy.

He lets go of Angel's cheek to instead walk around the table and take a chair beside him. Not across— Specifically not across. If he's going to pull this off he needs to let Angel think he can rely on him, that he's safe, that Vox feels for him. He doesn't, which is beside the point.

"I'm sure we can come to an agreement. It's not just anyone who can manage to slip past my security in this kind of a state, you know." He speaks in a measured tone, inflecting mild amusement and keeping the sharpest edges off his face and out of his voice. With any luck, there'll be two pairs of chains adorning him after tonight.

"You're afraid of him." Vox lays out matter-of-factly. It is a fact, after all, but he figures the demon might as well try to deny it. There's a good question, actually. Would Angel be honest with him, or would he try to hide behind his bravado? An easy thing to pop when you know where to press, but this would work more smoothly if Angel didn't put up such pointless resistance.

"I know what that's like." He murmurs gently after a brief lull in their exchange. Go on, believe it— He's not engaging his eye, not yet. It's much too soon, he needs to coax Angel over the edge first. "He's violent, always has been. Such pretty promises, yet once you're in too deep there's no way out, is there? And no one to protect you."

"I'm an overlord myself, there's not much he can do to me now—" He chuckled out a self-deprecating scoff. "Well, that's not to say I haven't had to replace the screen a couple times in the years I've known him though."

Drawing in your target audience with sensationalism is fun, but getting under their skin through something they can relate to is a thrill in and of itself. It's so much more personal, and he can't wait to see Angel's expression once the realisation hits, but by then it'll be far too late.

"You're just one of his toys though, he's not likely to hold back with you. And it's getting worse, isn't it?" He murmured, leaning forward, offering sympathy. None of this would work on Angel if he were sober, but he's not. Vox is going to take advantage as well as he can. "So what if we can help each other, hm?"

Come on little spider, take the bait~

"Val's an important part of this thing we're building. But he's impulsive, reckless, his anger can blind him to the simplest things— Like not going after you in public." He inclines his head in perhaps a slightly too subtle admission that he'd helped, at least possibly too subtle now that Angel had fucked himself up to this degree. "I need him to calm the fuck down, and you need him to stop hurting you, don't you?"

"I can make him stop." Vox reached out to Angel then, brushing a bit of fur out of Angel's eyes to sharpen his focus and at the same time associate him with more gentle treatment. Vox had never yelled at Angel, nor hurt him. He intended to reinforce that image, encouraging Angel to trust him.

"But I need your cooperation in this, Anthony. I can't calm him down if you run off wherever whenever. We have an image to maintain; you can do whatever you want within those constraints, and I'll keep Val off of you. All you need to do is follow my guidance."

His hand, which had pulled back after brushing the other's fur aside, approached once again. This time held level, palm slightly up in an entirely dishonest display of honesty and openness. Go on, shake my hand.

"Do we have a deal?"

#questionablemuses #universe • hazbin hotel #inquiry • hazbin hotel #interactions • vox #v: these electric chains #answered #i may or may not be going a little crazy right now.#this is bigger than ANY bio i've ever written!!#warning: dont show vulnerability to vox bc he will take advantage of it IMMEDIATELY— hfgdkjsdkfSKDJHGFKDFLJA #my god i wrote so much— i cant even!! AAAAAAAA #(angel be good and agree to this it's gonna be so much funnnn~)#long post

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