#because she has rarely any lines for most of it so we just see her looking pretty and it's like. that's zendaya. in a perfume ad | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dfortrafalgar · 28 days

Text

Special Delivery

(Sanji x Fem!Reader- Offscreen)

Sanji reaches out to Zeff for the first time in years.

I wrote this many, many months ago now, and it was the first fic i posted anonymously on AO3. I got a few requests after it was originally posted to write a second part, which I eventually did!

You can read Part 2 here! Original AO3 link

(I figured I should let my blog breathe a little in between the really heavy and emotional Law fic im writing, and what better way to cool down than some sanji fluff <3)

A sharp squawk awoke Red-Leg Zeff from his daze. With a grumpy expression and a low grunt, he peered towards the direction of the sound.

A messenger coo was seated on the railing of the Baratie's upper deck next to where Zeff stood slouched over with his forearms leaning against the wooden support. It cocked its head to the side as if it was deconstructing Zeff's appearance before reaching into its pouch and procuring a parchment envelope. Zeff found it strange. Messenger coos only usually delivered the newspapers or the latest bounty reports, very rarely were they put in charge of personalized letters. It must have been paid off by whoever wanted this delivered.

The gruff man took the parchment from the beak of the bird and watched as it took back off into the air, leaving a few molted white feathers behind in its wake. He looked at the envelope.

All it said on the front, in very elegant handwriting, was "Captain Zeff." He flipped the paper around, revealing a wax stamp holding the opening down, which he peeled off with a calloused thumb.

Tucked neatly inside the envelope was a white piece of paper, tri-folded over itself. Zeff slipped the paper out, unfolding it to reveal the written contents of the letter. The penmanship was impeccable, and the ink was very sleek. He knew immediately it was from Sanji, not many other pirates had handwriting as good as his. He had completely lost track of how many years it had been since the curly-browed boy left with that ragtag group of pirates to sail to the Grand Line, but Zeff had every single one of his bounty posters. He'd never admit it, but they were tacked up on the wall of his sleeping quarters. Every time Sanji's bounty increased, Zeff felt pride swell in his heart.

"How are you doing, you old geezer. It's been a little too long since we've had any contact, so I thought I'd write to you just to see how you've been. You're no slouch, I'm sure you've been keeping up with the world's events over the past however-many years. Do the Marines even bother to keep sending our bounty posters to the Baratie anymore? Well, regardless, I'm sure you can read right through me. I can't deny it, I miss you, old man. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life, and such a huge part of that is thanks to you and the guys back on that old cruiser. Every recipe I try to make, I imagine you screaming in my ear and telling me that it tastes like shit. Some days I really wish I could be back there, but most of the time I'm joyful. Life has been really, really good. A few years ago, I met someone. Last year, we got married, and soon after our lives changed so drastically. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, and she's as sweet as an angel. I mean it, too. I know you'd probably think something along the lines of me playing up my affections again just because she's a pretty woman, but I mean it. You'd love her, Zeff. Living as a pirate is the most stressful thing anyone could ever do, but she makes every day worth it. The crew was discussing the possibility of returning to the East Blue a bit ago, and when we do, I'm going to introduce you to her. I've spent the last years talking all about you, how you taught me everything I know about cooking, and I can tell she's just as excited as I am to finally see you. This letter's gone on long enough and I don't want to use up all of Nami's paper.

-- Sanji"

Zeff felt a lump in the back of his throat. Sanji had grown into such a fine young man, eloquent with his words and his feelings. He knew how big of a deal it was for the boy to be so honest and open. But one thing in the letter caught him off guard. What did he mean by, "Soon after our lives changed drastically."?

Zeff peered into the envelope, where another, smaller envelope was tucked inside. He almost didn't see it. Pulling it out, he held the letter and original envelope in between his fingers while he opened the second. Sanji was thorough with his packaging, that's for sure.

Inside, there were three photographs printed on thin, matted paper. The first was of Sanji and you, the wife he wrote about in his letter, taken by someone else holding the camera. Sanji had his arm around you, holding you against him, and you had your face nuzzled into his neck. His other hand held a cigarette away from the two of you, like he was in the middle of telling a story. The two of you were smiling brighter than the sun, Sanji's eyes completely closed with the motion of laughter, and yours creased, your irises looking up towards him.

The second photo made Zeff's eyes water. A photo of you and Sanji on the deck of the Sunny, exchanging rings. Sanji was wearing a sleek navy blue tuxedo, while you were wearing a gorgeous white ballgown. For pirates, you cleaned up phenomenally. He could just make out tears in Sanji's eyes as the photo displayed you sliding a band onto his finger. A skeleton with poofy hair stood between the two of you, which Zeff found a little odd, but he chuckled at the absurdity of it all.

Zeff flipped to the last photo.

The tears that were welling in his eyes from the previous image finally slid down his cheeks in heavy, salty droplets. His lip quivered.

Sanji sat in a chair, beaming down at a bundle of cloth held gently in his arm. He was crying in this photo as well, and was reaching a finger over the top of the bundle, where a smaller hand was reaching outwards to grab onto it. A small glimpse of blonde hair could be made out from under the cloth securing the baby tightly. On the back of the film, Sanji wrote the birth date and the name of the baby.

Zeff used a sleeve to wipe his blubbering eyes. His lips quivered, but he couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face.

Was he allowed to call himself a grandfather now? He figured it was only appropriate.

#fem reader #reader insert #x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #special delivery

207 notes · View notes

chloe-skywalker · 7 months

Text

Give Them A Chance - Robb Stark

Robb x fem!reader Baratheon/Lannister

Warnings: GOT

Word count: 1,362

Summary: Robb and Y/n don’t know that their fathers plan to betroth them. But Ned has a reason for not telling. Will his reason work?

Authors Note: Takes place in like the first episode of season 1 Game Of Thrones. Like right after the whole “You got fat” lines.

Masterlist

Game Of Thrones Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Y/n watched the exchange between her father and his friend Ned Stark Warden of the North. It was very odd but she thought it was nice that they were such good friends that they still joked around with each other. She didn’t see her father act so freely like this often. It was a rare welcome sight.

“So I take it this is your oldest.” King Robert sighed looking at the eldest of Ned’s children with a scrutinizing gaze before breaking out into a smile.

“Yes, this is Robb.” Ned introduced his oldest son to his friend.

Robert slapped a hand on the young man’s shoulder, smiling widely. “You're a handsome young lad.”

Robb tried to contain his blushing that he was sure he was doing. “Thank you, your Grace.”

“You should meet my oldest. Y/n!” Robert called over his oldest daughter, but not before sparing a knowing glance to Ned. As Y/n came to stand next to her father, smiling politely at the Stark family before her. “This is my oldest. A year younger than you I believe.”

“Princess.” Robb bowed, before looking at the princess. She had caught his eye when she first entered Winterfell on horse back alongside her uncle. He could not deny she was gorgeous, and he couldn’t believe how fast he had started to fall for her.

“Mi’ Lord.” Y/n curtised, biting her cheek. Thus Robb Stark was by far one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. And she had seen a lot of people growing up in KingsLanding. She wondered if his personality was as nice as his looks.

“Would you like a tour of Winterfell?” Robb asked, offering a way for them to talk and get to know each other a bit. He also was one of the most qualified people to show her around.

“I would love one.” She smiled. Looping her arm through his and the two young adults that in some ways are still kids went off exploring.

While the two went off getting to know each other and everyone else did God knows what, King Robert and Net Stark headed down to the crypts.

“Have you told your son?” Robert asked once they were done talking about Ned’s sister. The King was curious if his friend's son had offered to show his daughter around on his own or out of duty.

“Not yet.” Nod squinted, he didn’t like the idea of taking this choice from his son. But the other part, this was a good alliance, and you don’t deny a king.

“And why not?” Robert had told Ned of the idea to marry their oldest months ago. But to be fair he didn’t tell his daughter either.

“Because I wanted to give them a chance to fall in love before knowing they might be betrothed.” Ned explained his reasonsings, and even though Robert would never admit it he admired Ned’s heart and how he was trying to make this a better situation for their children. It was better than just throwing them together.

“Very well. I didn’t tell my daughter either. She would’ve fought me on coming.” He chuckled. Y/n would’ve tried to fight him or talk him out of it, and it might’ve worked even the slightest. Out of all his children she was the only one that had a somewhat relationship with him.

“They’d be more reluctant if they knew about what we had planned. The two of them being in the dark might lead to them actually gaining feelings for the other.” Ned just hoped that the two would get close and at least see they could make a marriage work. But he was truly hoping that maybe they could fall in love on their own and there wouldn’t be any hard feelings or reluctantness.

^ ^ ^

It had been a few weeks and things seemed to be working out for Y/n and Robb like Ned had hopped. Y/n seemed to fit right into the Stark family. She got along with all his children and they all act as if she’s one of them. Things between Robb and Y/n had taken some people by surprise. The two had been spending almost all their time together. They only separated to sleep it seemed like.

Ned was happy to see they had a lot in common. The two went horseback riding constantly and Y/n seemed to know how to use a bow and a sword no doubt thanks to her uncle. They didn’t even eat apart at meals.

Today Robb and Y/n had gone out riding, once they were far enough away from Winterfell the two dismounted their respective horses walking along next to each other.

“Are you having a good time in Winterfell Princess Y/n?” Robb asked, hoping that the time they’d spent together had been as enjoyable for her as it was for him.

Y/n smiled, nudging him teasingly shoulder to shoulder. “Yes, I am as matter of fact. My favorite part is the company.”

Robb blushed looking down before looking back to her. Robb had no idea why she could so easily make him react like that, but she could and he didn’t mind it. “You flatter me y/n.”

“You’ve been flattering me the whole time I’ve been here. It’s only fair.” Y/n smiled. As they came to the set of trees that they had made their spot over the time she had been in the North.

Robb just stood there watching her for a moment. He never expected to fall in love with her when he first found out the King, Queen, and their children were coming to visit. But he had and he didn’t regret it. “If I may be bold and speak my mind, Princess?”

Y/n nodded, smiling back at him as she turned to face him. She noticed how he wasn’t right next to her and Y/n wondered what had made him stop and if it had to do with what was on his mind. “Go ahead. I won’t stop you.”

“During your time here in Winterfell I have become quite taken with you.” Robb stated walking over to her. He looked in her eye’s trying to notice how his works were being taken.

“And I you.” Y/n blushed, biting her lip at her response back to him admitting his feelings for her. Which she reciprocates.

“I have a proposal for you Princess Y/n Baratheon.” Robb felt an air of convenience hit him at Y/n admitting she feels the same.

Y/n furrowed her brow, it confused her on why he was using her title and first and last name. “Go on Lord Stark.”

Robb took a deep breath, he knew what he wanted he just hoped she wanted it to. “We may not have known each other for very long or very well for the most part. But I would like for us to get to know each other better over time. If you’d like that of course.”

“I would.” Y/n nodded liking where he was going with this so far.

“Would you also like it if we could become husband and wife, Lord and Lady.” Robb stepped right up to her, reaching out to intertwine their hands. Looking into her eye’s Robb reached up with one hand leaving the other one still in hers, he cupped the side of her face, “Would you do me the great honor and become my wife? For all my days till the end of my days?”

Y/n reached up with her free hand and cupped the back of his neck, while squeezing his hand holding hers. Looking up into his eyes with what could only be happiness and adoration Y/n answered. “I would love to.”

In her short time visiting the North Y/n had really connected with the Starks and of course Robb the most. Yes, she’d miss her siblings (minus Joffrey) and she'd miss her uncles but this felt like the better place for her. And as long as she has Robb, Y/n will always be happy.

Taglist; @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @misspendragonsworld

@starkleila

455 notes · View notes

sunflower-lilac42 · 5 months

Text

✧ 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | connor bedard ♔

summary: after a blackhawks win, connor shows up at his girlfriend's apartment like every other game night.

warnings: celebrating christmas too early

notes: ah my first connor fic. i love him so much. justic for connor fr.

nhl masterlist | main masterlist

Dating the first overall pick was an experience, to say the least. Y/n and Connor had been dating since they were sixteen and she was by his side every step of the way through his hockey career.

When they knew where Connor was going to be drafted, the two of them got this sinking feeling in their stomachs. They didn’t want to do long distance, it would be too hard on both of them. However, there was something that y/n never told Connor.

She applied to the University of Illinois-Chicago on a whim. She didn’t think she would get in, so she didn’t see the point in telling her boyfriend about it. Yet, when she got her acceptance letter, she was troubled. She had never seen the campus, knew nothing about Chicago in general, she didn’t know what classes she would have to take.

But, when she thought about the other schools she had looked at, none of them even compared to being just down the street from where Connor would be every day that he wasn’t on a road trip. None of them were worth being so far away from her boyfriend.

A week after she got her letter she sat Connor down to talk. Connor didn’t like the way y/n sounded when she said, ‘I need to talk to you’.

✧༺✎༻∞

“Con, I need to talk to you.”

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed and sat down on y/n’s couch holding her hand as y/n looked around anxiously.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“What, no, of course not. There’s just something I have been keeping from you.”

“I don’t know if I should be relieved or more nervous now.”

Y/n laughed nervously, “No, uh. You know how we were talking about how we didn’t want to do long distance?”

“Yeah?”

“We might not have to.” Y/n handed the envelope to her boyfriend and watched his reaction nervously.

Connor had a confused look on his face as he looked at his girlfriend and then at the envelope. He opened and his face was met with the UIC causing him even more confusion.

“You applied to Chicago?” Y/n just nodded her head and urged him to keep reading.

He only had to scan a few lines before he was standing up and looking at the girl, “You got in?”

“Mhm.” Before he celebrated he contemplated the situation. He didn’t want her to move to Chicago just because he was going to be there. He loved her yes and he wanted her to be there, but he didn’t want her to give up her life for him.

“But what about-”

“‘But what about’ nothing, Connor. I love you and I want to be with you. And if that means going to Chicago with you, I will. Chicago has something no other school doesn’t.”

“What?”

“You, you big dope.”

✧༺✎༻∞

Connor was forever grateful that she kept that secret from him. If he knew that she applied to UIC and didn’t get in, he would be devastated. However, there were ups and downs to being there in Chicago. Connor rarely saw y/n despite her being just down the street from the UC.

Any time he had an off day, she would have class and anytime she didn’t have class, he would have practice or a game. It was the luck of the draw when they got to be with each other. At points in time, they both thought it would’ve been better if they just stayed in their respective cities.

Overall, those cons were outweighed by the pros. When Connor had a rough day he could literally walk to her apartment to the UC, though he never did. And when y/n had her rough days, she would call Connor and they could be at each other's places within minutes. Though most days when they had a night game, or any game really, Connor ended up staying at her apartment.

That was what happened tonight. Y/n was watching the game from her apartment, she had lucked out with only getting one roommate and she had gone home for the break. It was the Friday after Thanksgiving and y/n didn’t particularly want to go home, spending time with Connor was enough for her.

They had played the Leafs and Kevin scored the overtime goal with an assist from Connor. She had cheered so loudly that she was glad that almost everyone had gone home for the break. She watched post-game live including the interviews and everything that went along with it. When it was done, she turned on the Vancouver game as background noise while she added some food for her and Connor along with some cookies for later.

She truly had no way of knowing when and if Connor was coming back tonight, but she knew him. She sort of blacked out from the end of the game to when Connor came in through the door, causing her to jump when she heard the sound of his bag against the floor.

“Hey, Con.”

“Hi.” He took off his suit jacket and his hat, his cheeks rosy from the of Chicago.

“Thought you guys would be celebrating.” Y/n turned around from where she was stirring at the stove.

“They offered but cuddling with you was much more tempting.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and dropped his head onto her shoulder, “Whatcha making?”

“Soup and I went out and got a bunch of stuffing, because why not.”

“Thank you.” She turned her head and kissed his cheek, “Always.”

Connor went to shower and change as she finished making their food. The two sat and ate dinner while watching the game, talking about whatever came to mind. Connor was going to go shopping with her tomorrow even though Black Friday was today. They were going to buy Christmas decorations so they could decorate her room and apart of the main area of the apartment.

When they were done and the game was done, they climbed under the covers of her bed, Connor wrapping his arms around her as she laid her head on his chest.

“I’m proud of you.”

“For what?”

“You’re OT goal assist. Con that was amazing.”

Connor shrugged and tightened his hold.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And that’s how almost every game night is spent for Connor and y/n. Those nights were their favorite.

#sunny lune writes #hockey #nhl #chicago blackhawks #chicago #blackhawks #nhl blackhawks #connor bedard #connor bedard x reader #cb98

277 notes · View notes

amaesama · 2 years

Text

𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛

So the Slenderman has chosen another troubled soul to manipulate, force to do his bidding, induct into the mansion, great! We’re all one big happy family here, so I’m sure you’ll fit in just fine! Whatever may have happened in the past is over now. This is your new home, and everything is going to be just fine.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⨂ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

Everyone is really weary of newcomers.

For the first few days of you being there you will absolutely 100% catch people staring at you, like ‘what is this new thing and what do we do with it.’

The first people to come and talk to you are Nina, Jane, Liu and Dina.

Nina wants to make new friends so she’ll try her best to be nice and welcoming to you, she might be a bit too much at first but she means well.

Jane and Liu are there to warn you of any potential pastas to stay away from (*cough*Jeff*cough*), Liu will do most of the talking because he’s lovely.

Sully won’t front straight away, he will watch you when you talk to Liu to see what you’re like but otherwise he’ll leave you alone.

Jane will try to introduce you to Clockwork but 9/10 she’ll be ‘busy’ so it might take a while to get to know her.

Dina is an absolute sweetheart and they will try their best to be welcoming to you and make sure nothing bad will happen.

There’s a chance that they might try to introduce you to Helen but he just will not make an effort to talk to you, you’ll have to find another way to get to know him.

Dina will also introduce you to Ann and Johnathan, Johnathan will be a bit more talkative but you have a feeling that’s only because he wants something out of a relationship with you.

Ann won’t be all that interested. If you actually want to pursue a friendship with her then get beat up and she might be in the infirmary. Might be.

Speaking of the infirmary, that’s the best place to find him E.J, he spends most of his time down there, so if you ever want to talk to him or need something from him he’ll be down there.

He’s not too social and it’s rare to see him anywhere else, but he will always help someone if you’re injured. If you spend time to get to know him he’ll be very happy, though (he’ll probably ask if he can have your kidney somewhere along the line, he’ll assure you that the operation will be safe but he’ll respect you if you say no).

BEN and Sally are also two people that will be the first to talk to you.

Like Nina, BEN tries his best to spark conversations with people. He’ll probably play a few pranks on you though so be careful.

Sally just wants to play so she talks to everyone, she has no ill intentions so she’s a pretty safe person to be around.

You’ll 100% see Hoodie and Masky around as they basically do everything the Slenderman asks them to do, and if you’re new that’ll be to train you and do the whole initiation process. You’ll see Toby less frequently, but still pretty regularly in comparison to most other people.

Jeff will test if you’re good enough to be friends with him by setting Smile Dog on you. If you don’t run away from him or if you don’t try to kill him you’re good.

However, being friends with Jeff means you probably won’t be friends with Sully. Liu is a bit more accepting (strangely enough) but he’ll still be a bit iffy, he believes you should be friends with whoever you want but he probably won’t be around you if he’s there.

Ok onto actual life in the mansion.

Very rarely will you have a proper meal.

And by very rarely I mean only if you make yourself something or on one of the pasta nights.

A pasta night is something that happens every month (or every other month if no one can be bothered) where someone makes a shit ton of pasta for dinner for laughs.

It’ll almost always end in an argument because there are so many dysfunctional people living in the mansion.

And then there’s an argument on who should clean up, in the end they came up with a router where everyone takes turns.

E.J only comes along to these nights because he feels he has to, he can’t eat the food so he just kind of sits there.

Not many people can cook, so it’s usually either Tim, Brian, Clockwork or Liu who make the pasta.

No matter what your background is there will most likely be someone who went through the same thing, so if you’re happy with talking about it and so are they then you’ve basically got a therapist buddy.

Smile Dog is the family pet except instead of seeing him as a full blown family dog he’s treated like a person, minus all the responsibilities and stuff.

He’s a freeloader. That’s what I’m trying to say.

Also a great guard dog.

Not every room is an en suite so there’s a chance you’ll have to share a bathroom with like 5 others. And sharing a bathroom with literal serial killers? Not fun.

They’ll always flush, don’t worry, but some of them take excruciating long. Jeff is known to take long ass showers and sing obnoxiously loud (because he’s a dick) so avoid the bathroom that’s closest to his room.

Honestly it might be best to befriend someone with an en suite. Helen has one (mostly because people were annoyed that he kept going to refill his water when he’s painting), and he’ll probably be indifferent to you using his bathroom.

E.J also has one and he basically lives in the infirmary so he probably won’t notice if you use his, but you’ll have to ignore the mini fridge in his room. You just know what he keeps inside it.

He also doesn’t like being called ‘E.J,’ he mostly puts up with it. With two Jacks around it can be confusing so he understands why people call him that, but when the other one isn’t around he doesn’t get why people call him this. Call him Jack and you’ll be in his good books.

The proxies have their own bathrooms as well, and since they’re always out you might be able to use theirs.

EVERYONES ROOMS ARE A MESS.

Hardly anyone can be bothered to clean their rooms so they all live in their own mess.

If you complain about it enough then you could potentially bully some people into cleaning them.

Jeff is the worst.

Absolutely vile.

Jane has one of the best rooms because she’s a literal goddess so of course it is.

Helens is covered in paint.

Jacks is passable if you ignore the mini fridge.

Tim’s absolutely sticks of cigs so you probably don’t want to go in there.

Toby’s is- yep. It’s definitely… something!

Also for room arrangements, the people who hate each other are located a far away as possible from each other to reduce conflict. There are multiple floors, probably around 3, with the ground floor being where the living room, kitchen, infirmary and all that stuff is.

Floors 2 and 3 are mostly bedrooms. Liu, Jane, Nina, BEN, E.J, Helen, Dina, and a few others are on floor 2.

Jeff, Tim, Brian, Toby, Kate, Ann (if she’s at home) and some others are on floor 3.

Bless you if you end up on floor 3. It’s so noisy. Mostly because of Jeff.

During the day you probably won’t see many people, you may see them crawl out of their holes to get food but that’s pretty much it.

You’ll most likely get into a few fights because these fuckers are aggressive and argumentative.

Say anything mean to Sally and everyone will hate you forever.

It’ll take a while for you to fully feel like you fit in (a few months to a year) so try to keep on everyone’s good side and everything will be just fine.

If not then you’ll be hated forever. These assholes know how to keep a grudge.

You won’t see Slenderman.

You’ll FEEL him, but hardly ever see him.

If he does contact you it’ll be via Tim or one of the other proxies, or he’ll talk to you telepathically.

If you’re in the house then he’ll always be watching you.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⨂ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

4K notes · View notes

erisenyo · 9 months

Note

“Please come get me.” For Zukka

Please make this as angsty and emotional as possible I was it to hurt thank you

(Maybe self-inflicted damage? Not necessarily SH but just by being willfully reckless?)

For this prompt game!

“You don’t think this is concerning?”

“No, Sokka,” Katara says again, patient, a familiar blend of exasperation and fondness in her chest as she glances over to where he’s fiddling with his wrist wraps, frowning down at Zuko’s latest letter. “I think it’s fine.”

“You’re sure?” he presses, anxious in a way he so rarely lets himself be this openly, at least in front of the people he’s anxious about. And because she knows how much he does worry no matter how much he tries to hide it, she leans over, gently taking the letter out of his hand and indulging him in scanning it over once again.

“He says it’s not as cold as he expected,” she says, skimming over the lines as Sokka pulls a little face, “That Arnook was nice, that he misses you—” she peaks through her lashes at that bit, looking for any twitch on his face as he just continues to nod along. “—that he’s looking forward to seeing you again, that the food’s good, that tomorrow’s going to be a big day.”

She lets her hand drop to look at him, expectant, sighing when he just continues to nod, face anxious.

“Sokka,” she says gently, “He says he’s fine. And I know you miss him,” she adds when he continues to look unconvinced.

“That’s not it,” he protests immediately.

“But he’s only going to be gone for a few weeks.”

“Katara, that’s not—”

“And you’ll see him soon, okay?” she finishes, reaching out to grab his hand, giving it a little squeeze until he sighs and leans back.

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, okay,” he repeats, grabbing back the letter and putting on a bright smile like she doesn’t know exactly how to see through that, like she can’t see the way his thumb continues to worry at the edge of it. “So what was it you needed help with again?”

“Penguin sledding,” she says, abruptly changing the plan for the day and grinning at him when he blinks, nonplussed. “We need to pick out the best hills for the new season, for the little ones,” she says. “Make some maps, maybe, plan some routes, do some schedules.” All of his favorite things she can think of, to keep his mind off his worry.

“I don’t know,” Aang says apologetically as he and Sokka jump across a gap where the temple floor’s fallen away. Probably no one should stay in this hallway until they fix that… “I don’t think I’m hearing it.”

“No?” Sokka says, the syllable cracking with uncertainty.

“Tell me again, though,” Aang says quickly. “What did it say?”

Sokka huffs, a faint furrow between his brows as he digs out two pieces of paper, peeling the latest letter off the top. “He greets me,” he rattles off, eyes flicking over the page, Aang keeping half an eye on the placement of his feet since Sokka isn’t anymore, “He talks a bit about the canals, he mentions Yugoda, bending, bending, bending—”

“Oh?” Aang says, perking up. “Did he—”

“Stay focused,” Sokka orders, waving a hiding hand.

Aang sighs but obediently puts on his most attentive face.

“And then he says—” Sokka clears his throat, drawing himself up, so Aang makes sure he’s actually paying attention. “—that he had an interesting afternoon of discussions, that Sei Zun is missing his office, and that everything is going fine.”

Aang nods, projecting attentive with everything he has and freezing a little when Sokka just hits him with an expectant look.

“I mean,” Aang says slowly, scratching the back of his head. “It sounds like everything is going fine?”

“Fucking—” Sokka cuts off with an aggravated noise, throwing his hands up.

“I can write him myself for the bending stuff,” Aang blurts, scrambling for something to get the worried tightness off of Sokka’s face and wincing when Sokka just lets out another garbled noise because…yeah. That…probably wasn’t it.

“Run it back at me again, Loverboy,” Toph orders, flicking a little bit of stone toward the sound of Sokka’s feet when he makes a questioning little noise. “I can hear you worrying over there,” she says, giving an exasperated look in his general direction. “Get it out.”

He pauses, heartbeat a little too quick like it’s been all day, then, cautiously, “You already said it was nothing.”

“Maybe I was wrong,” she shrugs. Sokka is excitable and far more anxious than he tries to let on, but that excitableness has gotten them out of more than one bind.

“…Um,” he says after a moment, hair rustling as he scratches under his wolftail.

“I mean, I don’t think I am,” she allows, grinning when he snorts and making a kicking up her feet. “But maybe you explained it to my shitty.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughs, a good sound over the rustle of papers as he tugs out those letters again. “Okay,” he says, getting serious, her words as much on his heartbeat as his words as she tries to pick up on what exactly is worrying him about this, “So it starts with saying things are fine—” ba-DUMP. “—talks about training a bit with some of the staff fighters—” ba-dump. “—talks about a canal ride—” BA-dump, interesting. “—he had a formal dinner, the food was nice, sea prune stew reminded me of him.” Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, filling up his expectant silence as she plays back the words and weighs them and tries to pick them apart and…

“Yeah, Sokka,” she finally says, apologetic and wincing a little when he audibly slumps, heart dropping in a way she usually can’t literally sense. “I’m not hearing it.”

“You don’t—he doesn’t seem off to you?” Sokka presses, sounding like he isn’t sure whether to let the anxiety out or whether he wants to be assured.

“I mean, based on how you read it…” Toph shrugs. She always assumes Sokka puts the most dramatic read on anything that he’s able to, given the opportunity. He’s second only to Zuko, there.

“I just, I feel like I should go up there,” he says, weight shifting back and forth and back and forth.

“Do you think,” she says carefully, “That that might muddy the waters for him?” She flicks a pebble back and forth across the ground when he stays conspicuously silent. “He’s trying to build his own relationships, Sokka. Right?”

“Yeah,” he acknowledges, reluctant, beads rattling softly as he shakes his head. “I just—I just don’t think he’s okay.”

“He said he’s fine, like, multiple times in each letter.”

“Yeah,” he says again after a beat, sounding doubtful, and Toph nods, slow and serious and silently tossing aside every loose plan they had for the day. They don’t need to be talking to officials and discussing infrastructure projects when he’s in a mood like this, she decides. They need to be riding Omashu’s mail carts.

“And none of these are horny?” Mai checks again as she takes the offered stack of letters.

“No,” Sokka says again, openly fretting, not even exasperated, so Mai shrugs and quickly skims through the stack. She keeps her face still, her movements measured as she sips her sweet waterorange juice, her eyes skipping over bland descriptions, over details of Zuko’s day that are all about what Zuko did—

“Oh,” Mai says.

“Yeah?” Sokka pauses in his pacing, something half hopeful and half nervous on his face.

—over talk of other people and none of himself—

“Oh yeah,” Mai repeats, setting down her juice.

“Right?”

—and fine, fine, fine repeated over and over again.

“Yeah, this is not good,” Mai agrees.

“Thank you.”

“Wow,” she says, going back over that last letter again and lingering over the careful curve of Zuko’s characters. “He’s about to lose his shit.”

“Okay, yes.”

She flicks him a flat stare, incredulous. “Why are you still here?”

“He’s supposed to be building relationships with the Northern Water Tribe on his own,” Sokka says, shoving both hands through his hair and looking like he has to physically stop himself from tearing I out. “And everyone is saying I’m going to get in the way, and I don’t want to mess it up for him but I also don’t want it to be harder than it has to be, and he’s not okay I don’t care what everyone—bird."

Mai instinctively ducks beneath the table, watching from safety as a messenger hawk dives down to smack Sokka square in the back, the pair of them screaming and squawking and flailing in a mess of limbs and wings until the hawk finally manages to dump its scroll case and take off, disgruntled, leaving Sokka mussed and breathing heavily in its wake.

Mai cautiously slides back into her chair, Sokka’s eyes wide and flicking around the sky as she waits as long as she can before huffing pointed.

“Well,” she demands, flicking the scroll an expectant look. “What does it say?” Because she knows one of Azula’s overdramatic, overly trained birds when she sees one, which only two people in the entire Fire Nation use, and that one clearly wasn’t for her.

Sokka scrambles into motion, fumbling the scroll case opening, hands hasty and quick and—“Fuck.”

Mai straightens, snatching the scrap of paper out of the air when Sokka suddenly tosses it at her and takes off, staring after him a moment before carefully flattening it out along with the others he left her, knowing he’ll want them all back, and raising her eyebrows when she sees one firmly scrawled line in Zuko’s distinctly overly formal hand:

Please come get me

“Well,” Mai purses her lips, wondering how exactly Sokka’s going to get himself there. “Fuck.”

Sokka leaps out of the newly streamlined transit balloon he’s been designing as soon as its close enough to the ground for him to not fuck up his knee with the landing, shouting a thanks over his shoulder and dashing over the freshly constructed landing pads, calling hellos in response to the startled exclamations he gets and scanning across the promenade for—

“Zuko!” he cries as he catches sight of that breadth of shoulders he’d recognize anywhere, that politely attentive angle of his head, the deep maroon of his robes standing out against the snow and in the cluster of periwinkle blue around him.

Zuko pivots toward him, face momentarily open, surprised and startled and relieved. “Sokka!” he calls back, immediately ignoring the others, hurrying forward, not exactly funning but intent, focused, determined, sweeping Sokka into his arms the second he’s close enough, leaning into him as Sokka leans back, sighing in relief to be surrounded by his warmth, to feel him solid and heavy against him and so, so beloved.

“Hey, love,” Sokka whispers, ignoring the uncertain crowd around them and mouthing a silent thank you when Poak catches his eye before waving everyone else back to give them space.

“Hey,” Zuko says into his shoulder, shaky, laughing a little and clutching Sokka even tighter.

“I missed you,” Sokka says, clearing his throat and feeling his eyes stinging as he presses his smile against Zuko’s hair.

“Mhm.” Zuko pushes harder into Sokka’s chest.

“I decided I couldn’t wait to see you again,” Sokka murmurs, running a hand up Zuko’s back, something in him unwinding as he feels the familiar lines of Zuko's back moving as Zuko laughs again, wet. “So I figured hey, why not take a little trip.”

“Is that your new experimental design?” Zuko asks, shifting just enough to glance over Sokka’s shoulder. “It didn’t drop you out of the air.”

“Nope,” Sokka grins, sinking his fingers into Zuko’s hair. “It did not.”

Zuko hums, turning into his neck. “I missed you,” he whispers, heartfelt.

“Yeah,” Sokka says, the words coming out thick as he pulls Zuko more firmly against him. “Me too, buddy.”

Zuko sighs, relaxing into him inch by inch, the two of them just breathing together, even and slowly falling into sync.

“I am going,” Zuko finally says, tone nearly abstract, distant, “To punch him in the fucking face.”

Sokka blinks a little. Wha—

“If I have to see one more smug look—”

“Ah,” Sokka says, realizing.

“—or listen to one more fucking sour, pretend offhand comment—”

“Right,” Sokka says, smoothing a hand down Zuko’s back and glancing around, making sure Pakku isn’t actually in Zuko’s line of sight right now.

“You would not believe—”

“Oh, I would,” Sokka says, with feeling. The meetings he's been in with that man...

“That man,” Zuko hisses, literally steaming with the force of his anger.

“Yup,” Sokka agrees, giving him a solid pat. Sokka knows exactly how he feels.

“If Katara gets to lay him out—”

“Katara isn’t the Fire Lord,” Sokka quickly points out. And Pakku is, for better or worse, enough of an ass not to want anyone to know he got decked by a girl.

“I’ll fucking give it up for the chance to—”

“Okay, okay,” Sokka says, giving Zuko another firm pat and glancing around for some redirection. Lighting things on fire should probably be out, Sokka didn’t bring his sword—“Want to go find a big stick?”

Zuko is still a moment, then pulls back just enough to peak at him, gold eye half-narrowed and suspicious.

“I can throw some snowballs,” Sokka offers, inviting. “You can smack them.” Zuko hesitates, openly considering, so Sokka adds, "They explode."

“Okay let’s go,” Zuko says almost before he gets the words out, grabbing his hand and interlacing their fingers together as he hauls Sokka off and away from the confused clump of Northerners, Sokka tossing a wave over his shoulder and an apologetic shrug, happy to let himself be pulled along—at least until Zuko pauses at the first intersection, uncertain, and Sokka can take over.

#asks and answers #ask games #Anon you do not know how hard it was for me to not make this about Zuko crashing his razer scooter #Which did not seem to quite fit the requested tone lol #Sokka #Zuko #Zukka #fic writing #my writing #The Gaang

440 notes · View notes

faeryarchives · 3 months

Note

I have no idea if your requests are open or not so I apologize if they're closed 😭🫶

But could I request the octatrio with a fischl reader (female if possible ♡)

I love the octatrio sm rn and I rarely see any works with them so I just had to request

hi hi anon of course! do you think they would accidentally create an elemental reaction whenever floyd pokes oz 🧐

octavinelle with a fischl-like female reader!

a mysterious girl called "prinzessin der verurteilung" travels with oz, a night raven. through her unique abilities, eccentric character, and hard work, she has become a rising star among the guild's investigators, earning all the recognition. and yet she still fares mostly on her own

༉‧₊˚. azul ashengrotto

you were an unpredictable and quite eccentric person! its true that you have a quite different way of talking from others but it made you stand out!

"you dare to call my familiar and grim as monsters?! you must prepare your self, because it is time for retribution!"

"where did you get that bow?!"

"mein fraülein, if i dare to say so - that isn't one of your lines. but thank you for defending me."

your achievements in the school mainly were praiseworthy, azul knew for a fact that you were a strong one that he didn't want to come across with

until you got roped into the octavinelle issue and instead of looking at him with disdain - you were even willing to help him out?! maybe those rumors about you were true at all

as being someone who will willingly go out their way to help others in your own way, even if you come out harsh

what bothered azul most was how you were quick to intervene his plans as well as helping him with his problems

"why are we walking around school? where is oz?" "my dear familiar is taking his good rest. as for the reason of walking around - well i heard from a little bird that you are having a hard time on something. would you like to accept her majesty's help?"

surely and slowly, he was beginning to see right through you, even without oz's interpretation and to be honest? you weren't so difficult to understand at all

the most likely to spoil you rottens by letting you do as you please whenever you went to go visit their dorm

"didn't you mention before that you like reading? you can borrow some of my books here because it just so happens that i am an avid reader myself!" "...! i-i never thought that you were keeping that in mind, thank you azul."

as time goes by, the bad rumors surrounding you gradually dissipative → students will think twice of talking shit about you because this comes as a package deal for being friends with the octavinelle dorm leader.

༉‧₊˚. jade leech

"one is aware that fate has brought me into this path. hm-hm, may the glory of the prinzessin bring light to this wicked world." "oh my, how bold of you to address our world as such!"

true, jade couldn't really understand how you were able to say such things in front of the whole school and shrug it off

he is the type of friend that would take his time to sit down and listen for you for hours and even ask some questions about your previous adventures

"you met your evil twin?" "it was more like a shadow version of me, and oz here decided it was fun to leave me for her." "*gasp* i take full offense to that!" "oh my god, the prinzessin's most beloved familiar is a traitor."

jade knew for a fact that you were entirely different from the octatrio so he tries to steer you away from trouble as much as possible but with your friends and sometimes even floyd, maybe sometimes are not just possible

don't tell the other two but if you would pick someone trust the most to see you behind your act - it would be jade

knowing how observant he is, you wouldn't be surprised if he had seen through you already but you trust him enough and that's all you need

"hmm, this is troubling..."

"what seems to be the problem?"

"it looks like one of the students broke the contract and went hiding among his peers."

"that sounds like a problem, but no worries we can assist you."

color him surprise after seeing your investigation skills 😮 the task that should've took a day to complete got immediately solved less than half a day

and your fighting skills are extraordinary! from that day on, you would get extra allowance every time the octatrio need your help

while you seem capable of yourself, jade took it as his and floyd's responsibility to look after you because you were still kinda an airhead

"(name)..."

"i forgot the stove was still on..."

as you hail into their world as an outsider, he will do his best to provide you the best experience until you bring the glory of the prinzessin among them - after all, that is what friends for

༉‧₊˚. floyd leech

you are such an interesting fishie! or are you a bird? did you just turn into a bird? can you teach him that too?

it was like he finally met someone on the sam wavelength because floyd surprisingly went along with your act - taking the role as your confidant

"ne, ne (name) - can oz talk to other birds?"

"my dear ozzie?"

"'cuz if he can talk in human language can he understand animal language or he is just built different?"

if you think that sometimes you can't understand yourself, you couldn't understand floyd even more!

each of his random question just made you wonder your whole existence because this man will text you at 2 am asking "what would you call a male ladybug?"

"If peanut butter wasn’t called peanut butter, what would it be called?" "for the love of everything, floyd it is 2 am..." "yeah? so what would it be called though?"

being with floyd is like being hit with an uno reverse card and honestly - you were having fun!

it was like you were relieving your childhood with the eel and with his random outburst it motivates you to be more open about yourself

from time to time it was funny to see him trying to chase after oz, trying to ask your familiar over and over again if he could do the same thing

"i am afraid it would not be possible." "but we haven't even tried it out yet?" "why are you wrapping your hands around m- no, no, no we are not going into the water!"

news flash, they did. 😭

anyways! he adores you and oz and never fails to give you your daily hugs

as said before - floyd sometimes gets you in trouble by breaking rules and getting involve in the punishment but hey! some times its okay to let loose but not just too much.

still, you friendship may be a little unexpected to others and floyd knows that you are similar yet also different from each other but he will try to make your stay more bearable than letting you suffer all alone

220 notes · View notes

liesmyth · 6 months

Note

would you be able to give examples/explain more about how race only impacts gideon in the tlt-universe? not being facetious or condescending, genuinely asking. thank you!

Hi anon! If you mean my tags to this post, I wrote

#earth conception of race doesn't impact any character in the series except the canonically brown main antagonist

By which I mean my Worstie and main antagonist of the series, John Gaius (PhD).

I don’t think TLT as a series engages with race in any especially meaningful ways. It’s set in a post-Earth society with entirely different social norms, and there’s no concept of race and ethnicity within the population of the Nine Houses. Physical descriptions of the characters are scarce to say the least, and they rarely spell out the kind of features that suggest specific racial connotations, because the POV characters don’t seem to think it’s something worth remarking upon. iirc, it takes until halfway through HtN for the narrative to confirm that Harrow has brown skin.

[See also Tamsyn’s GtN characters description post. It quotes passages from the book, and you can see how minimal the descriptions are, and she repeats several times that her characters’ appearances are up to the readers’ interpretations. It just doesn’t seem to be a big concern of hers]

Then there’s John, who grew up in twenty-first-century New Zealand and IS explicitly Māori in a way that absolutely impacted his character arc. It's not A major theme of his Nona chapters, but it’s there if you read between the lines. The boarding school he went to, which IRL had a high percentage of low-income Māori students on scholarship. The depth of his climate anxiety, his uncompromising “Nobody left behind” stance before the cryo project was halted, and his fervent hatred of ‘the trillionaires’ afterwards... these are all informed to some extent by his background as an indigenous man imo, and so was the global reaction to his developing powers. The “We were going to put you fellas in jail, weren’t we?” the way his initial attempts at publications are all flat-out ignored by the scientific community and dismissed as culty gimmicky faith healing until he leans into it.

John being Māori is just one of the many pieces of his backstory, and far from the most impactful to what eventually went down, but my point remains that he is the ONLY character in TLT whose racial background 1) affects his story arc and 2) is relatable to the audience. Everyone else is ten thousand years removed from Earth, and I’m just not very interested in using racial identifiers when exploring these characters and their dynamics, because the characters themselves don’t care and neither does the narrative.

#on a more hashtag meta level #John is why I’m personally uneasy about any analysis of the series that tries to interpret TLT through racial allegory lenses #especially when it’s weaponised for discourse purposes #You can write meta about John’s war crimes without comparing him to white imperialism #Or you can go ahead and do that anyway but I highkey disagree that it’s a fitting metaphor or in any way deliberate on Tamsyn’s part #and I think the implications are unfortunate to say the least #That said I AM extremely interested in the ways John relates to the culture he left behind #and why he made the choices he did when it came the moment to reshape humanity’s cultural consciousness after the Resurrection #but that’s on a character level!#I don’t think we can apply twenty-first-century social / identity labels to the series as a whole #especially a series where the author says 'I imagine X character as Y but it doesn't raelly matter'#and it doesn't influence the canon directly in any way #SORRY THIS IS LONG!#anonymous #ask #ejg #tlt thoughts #elle tlt posting #tlt

353 notes · View notes

albert-tsum · 1 month

Text

I just want to give my thoughts on the whole "Wesker preys on Rebecca due to the photo in RE2" rumors since it still seems to be relevant and discussed about? (atleast there are posts, asks and comments on Tumblr, Instagram and Pinterest and probably Tiktok and Twitter about that from this or last year)

Tl:dr I don't think he ever felt something for her* and if I'd be sure he preys on her I wouldn't have this tsum and account

Soo just a few reasons why I think so and information I came across when I was researching this, this post will be way too long but here we go

*if you have official canon information saying he is into her pls write me but I didn't come across smth like that (yet) and also feel free to inform me if my information are false

-------------------

1) it's an *easter egg* most likely put in by the devs for the player to see and not meant to be canon information (you have to search the desk multiple times, I think that indicates it's an easter egg and not any canon information they want the player necessarily to know)

2) the RE devs love *fanservice*, just look at e.g. some outfits of their female characters, putting the device control on Jills chest etc so it's not unrealistic that they do that shit to Rebecca too even tho she's only 18

3) the picture was *undeveloped* so Wesker couldn't even know what the photo looked like, also there is no evidence or indication that he took the photo like some people assume, they simply could have placed a camera on or in his desk to but there isn't

4) it has smth like "new member/recruit" written on its back (and yeah it was kinda weirdly translated as "rising rookie" in RE2 but I think that meant the same as the japanese text) so it seems to be a official photo given to the STARS captains and showing her in (an official RPD) Basketball uniform would show that she's athletic, smth important for her job und the uniform is designed by Capcom bc as I said they love skimpy outfit fanservice stuff (also she is knowingly posing for the photo so it's not a creepy stalker pic made without her permission)

5) the desk is *most likely shared with Enrico Marini* who is the actual captain of BRAVO team, the team Rebecca is a member of and not ALPHA team which was lead by Wesker

6) also some canon stuff about the interactions of Wesker and Rebecca:

Well, the only canon interaction between them has Wesker shooting her without hesitation, if they wanted him to be into her they could simply having him try to abduct her and showing her the tyrant in RE1 remake to impress her but no he doesn't care about her and is focused on Chris

(Also I saw some fanart, posts etc where they depict Rebecca being the fav of STARS Wesker while hating Chris which is bs bc he rarely knew Rebecca since she just joined a short time before the mansion incident and Wesker compliments Chris, saying he is his best man and is proud of him)

7) also in RE0 when he and Birkin are watching Rebecca and Billy they could simply put a creepy line from Wesker about her but he is just neutral about her

Also there is no notion that he tried to come after her post RE1 or to observe or abduct her

Sooo, sorry for bringing that topic back, maybe I'll delete this later because it's unnecessary but I just felt like writing that

PS: I am fully aware that Wesker is a horrible human being and it's understandable to hate him but that doesn't automatically mean he's a sexual predator

#albert wesker #chris redfield #resident evil #biohazard #rebecca chambers #resident evil wesker #resident evil 2 #resident evil 2 remake #william birkin

76 notes · View notes

sky-kiss · 7 months

Note

Hi there, it's me, your girl, knocking on your door and asking for a tiny fic if you take to this prompt 😊

Strip poker. Lmao no. But maybe. It'd just be Tav getting naked as they lose horribly to him.

Okay actual prompt, sorry. I love possessive Raphael, it shivers me timbers.

What if after he successfully gets the Crown with Tav's help. And Tav thinks they're done forever, and is sad about it during their hurrah meal (THAT HE PROMISED US BUT WE DIDNT GET IN GAME?), but Raphael is very much not done with Tav yet. But plays them along a little, delighting in how attached they seem to be to him.

But also, feel free to do the strip poker adjacent if that appeals more. 😉 Thank you my dear!

________

A/N: I’m going to be super honest, babe. I almost did the strip poker prompt.

________

“This, my dear, to a most successful partnership.” Raphael held up his glass, a beautiful crystal flute that seemed to catch the firelight; held it. Tav didn’t want to guess how rare it was, or how much it cost. Raphael seemed inclined to excess; the meal he’d promised so many moons prior reflected those beliefs. The first wine he’d served was centuries old; the second was even older. The gown he’d left provided, perfectly tailored, was set with enough jewels to sustain a small kingdom.

Tav smiled at his toast but could not find it in herself to respond. As fine as the night had been, it held a note of finality that sat heavy on her heart. It was the bow on his victory and his crown. After this, they’d go their separate ways.

It was objectively the correct course of action. Dealing with a devil of any sort was ill-advised; dealing with one so intimately bordered on suicide.

Raphael smirked at her, cocking his head to the side. The firelight caught him in profile, sharpening already fine features, casting his eyes in deeper shadows. He leaned forward. “My, has the cat finally caught your tongue? Here? At the end of all things?”

“Not in the least. Only tired.”

“I could send you back…”

“No!” The answer was far too quick. The devil arched a brow, smiling with teeth. He folded his hands in front of him, long fingers interlaced. Tav tried not to fixate on them, or the way his thumb shifted, stroking some invisible line across his wrist. “No, that isn’t necessary. It’s only…I supposed a part of me didn’t expect things to end so soon.”

“But it’s been months, my sweet. Are you not tired of the road? The violence?” Lower, a note of teasing crept into his voice. “My company?” Tav huffed. The adventurer sipped her wine to stop her immediate reply. The one the devil undoubtedly wanted. His eyes, bright as hellfire, glowed. “It should grieve me to leave you wanting, little mouse. You need only say that word and…” he snapped his fingers. The candles leaped with new liveliness before fading to a more intimate level. “We might find some new way to occupy our time.”

“You have hells to conquer.”

“And what is a conquest without dear friends?” He chuckled, and Tav fought the urge to shiver. The fireplace was far too large for the banquet hall. Avernus was naturally hot. The air in her lungs felt stagnant and overheated. “Admit it. You're curious. What will Raphael accomplish?”

“I don’t doubt you if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Never. I would not dream of slandering my talents or your good sense, pet.” He extended his hand, palm up. “But I would never force my suit. You are, as ever, entirely free to make your own choices.”

Tav pursed her lips. The little alarm in the back of her head was screaming. Run, it said, get far from here and far from him. She’d never been good at listening to those notes of reason. Raphael must have seen it too. The devil smirked, the right corner of his lips curling back to highlight the point of his fangs. “I wouldn’t…see us part ways. Not yet.”

“Mmm. And why not? Indulge this…inquiring mind.”

She sighed, shrugging. “Because I’m…fond of you, devil.”

“Good girl, honesty is always the best policy.” Gods, but he looked insufferably pleased with himself. Raphael leaned back, resting his chin in his palm. He drummed his fingers against his cheek. “It would be dangerous for you to stay, of course, and I could never endanger one so dear to me. Unless…” he let the sentence hang between them, full of potential and thoroughly premeditated. Tav could feel the noose tightening, the hooks he’d set in her flesh from their first meeting tugging at her soul. “A patron makes all the difference in the hells. Were you to swear yourself to me, you might remain.”

She laughed. “Is that all? Just put myself in your hands?”

“My hands, my lap, my bed.” His smirk took on a particularly feline quality. “Don’t look so surprised, pet. I kept the Emperor out of that lovely head. Did you think I hadn’t seen what was in it?”

He made a vague gesture with his left hand, and those lurid imaginings came forward. The dreams that had chased Tav into an uneasy sleep for months: his touch smoothing over her hips. His mouth on her breasts. Touching, and teasing, and…

“Enough.” She swallowed, head spinning. “You’ve made your point.”

“Swear you are mine, devote yourself to me, and I will give all your imaginings form. What is one mortal life compared to pleasure eternal?” He held out his hand again.

And Tav took it.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #my fic #asks #tav is drinking idiot juice bless their heart

308 notes · View notes

ystrike1 · 7 months

Text

I Took Away the Tyrant's Chastity - By 백단 (5.5/10)

It's rough out there for puppy yandere lovers. It's rare to find one that isn't presented in a comedic way. Finding one that comes with a good plot is even rarer. Don't get your hopes up for this one. It's not a proper story. It's all empty wish fulfillment.

Judith was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. The real Judith wasted that spoon. She acted selfishly until her own family gave up on her, and her fiance wasn't even criticized for executing her. She was that awful. Judith reincarnates with a different soul. It's a Korean college student, who knows the ideal world she exists in is a book. She's sad for a bit, but she quickly notices that all the building blocks for the perfect life are there. A loving family. Wealth. Guaranteed good marriage...if she doesn't act like a sociopath. So, she doesn't. She becomes a beloved daughter.

Judith is a bit of an idiot, but that is her only character flaw. She has vowed to be a good and filial daughter. She will marry and continue to be a supportive force for her powerful family....but she wants to fool around first. Masquerade balls for unmarried women and men are the norm. Fooling around before marriage seems to be expected for both genders. You have to get your desire for adventure out of your system, before you marry for politics. It's not the worst idea. Judith goes to a state sactioned hook up ball for young adults and...all of the men are ugly. Oh no!

She sees one handsome option just before she gives up. She wants to fool around, but not enough to debase herself for rude men. The stranger is reasonably polite, and we get enthusiastic consent on both sides before the hook up. By the way this is also a way to get married. Lots of couples get formed during these parties, but you're not obligated to stay with your partner...most of the time.

Handsome Guy is the Emperor, Theo, and he's always been a little crazy.

Theo married Past Judith, and he also executed her so he could marry a better woman. Judith was deeply insecure and unpleasant to everyone. She used the title of Empress to stroke her own ego, and she bullied every woman who spoke to Theo. The way she behaved was extra stupid, but it explains alot. Theo is a scary and bloodthirsty husband. Judith was the only woman dumb enough to marry him for power. Theo killed close family members to get his throne, so when Judith stepped out of line...yeah he didn't even hesitate.

New Judith has no interest in him, but she wakes up in his bed.

Theo pressures her to take responsibility and...I admit it. The scene is kind of funny and entertaining. Emperor Theo is tired of being drenched in gore all day. He thinks Judith is adorable, and she's clearly attracted to...his body. That's good enough for him. He wants a bride he can relax around. The spoiled rotten sweet version of Judith is perfect for that. Her powerful family loves her in this timeline too. He's obsessed with creating a happy home with her.

He almost throws his chef in jail for serving food she doesn't like, because he's so obsessed with impressing her. Judith isn't into that. She wanted a normal husband. Theo is too crazy for her. So, what's the plan? How the heck is she planning to get away?

.....

....

.........

Judith is a moron. She sneaks out and she plans to switch places??? With her maid??? So she can leave the country until Theo finds somebody else??? Even though he has already proposed and its clearly too late??? It's also clear that Theo will kill her maid and the people who try to hide her???

He's not threatened by her brain dead plan. He picks her up seconds after she sneaks out of her parent's mansion.

Theo is cold as ice. His mother could not handle court politics. He can handle betrayal and any worst case scenario with ease. Judith not liking him and not wanting to marry him is a minor problem. It's not even close to the level of drama he's used to. Everything she does is cute, compared to what his enemies do. She's moved by his handsome face too, and he finds that endlessly entertaining. The other ladies piss themselves in fear at the sight of him, so Judith being dumb (and lusty) is a huge plus for him.

Serne was the heroine in the original story. She was a serious, smart woman who could match the Emperor in battle. Theo married her after he got rid of Judith. Together they cleaned up the castle and made it more organized, and less corrupt. The thing is...Theo doesn't need someone to fix the castle. It's running just fine. His enemies are too scared of him to do anything serious, and Judith isn't crazy. So nobody is causing cracks on the inside. He is totally free to marry a cute and useless bride.

Judith thinks he will still fall for Serne, but its pretty obvious that he never fell in the first place. He married her because she was good Empress material. He wants current Judith because she makes him happy. The yandere moments are very janky, but they're there.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #otome #otome isekai #I Took Away the Tyrant's Chastity

163 notes · View notes

sentinelpri · 3 months

Text

Just A Prank

James Wilson finds himself flustered as he leans against the wall of the diagnostics conference room with two pairs of eyes piercing right through him; one dark blue and one dark brown. Chase sits on the edge of the large table while Foreman sits in House’s spinning chair. Cameron, who would usually put a stop to what is currently going on, is out sick with a stomach bug she caught from a patient, and House is… Well, House. It’s over half past noon but Wilson figures House will show up some time in the next hour

With the rare dynamic of just Chase, Foreman, and Wilson, odd things are bound to happen; such as Chase suggesting that Wilson randomly kiss House as some sort of… Prank. Were it anyone else being asked to do this, Wilson might encourage it. House isn’t used to any displays of affection these days, let alone used to being caught off guard by them, so someone walking up and kissing the guy without any warning would elicit a pretty good reaction. But Chase is insisting that he, James Wilson, be the one to do it- not Cameron or Foreman or Chase himself, because apparently, that would be wrong. No, it just has to be Wilson.

“And I have to be the one to do this because…?”

“Kissing someone without their consent isn’t something that most people take kindly to,” Foreman points out.

“And you think he would take kindly to me doing it?” Wilson asks. “Also, I have to point out that it’s really not fair or correct to lump House into the category of ‘most people’.”

“I don’t think he’d ‘take kindly’ to it, per se, but you two already treat each other like that all the time,” Chase argues with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Weird pranks, crossing boundaries, doing things to each other that would normally be friendship ending… It’d just be a normal Tuesday for the two of you.”

“That… Is still totally inappropriate. I mean, romantic fraternization with other hospital employees. It’s technically against hospital policy. Everyone might’ve encouraged the date with Cameron, but that’s a little different than me just going up to the guy and kissing him,” Wilson continues, his face burning bright red.

On a normal day, he’s not so easy to read or so easy to embarrass, but he’s never been able to help it when it comes to House. The thought of kissing the man he’s been in love with since 1999 makes his head spin. He shouldn’t even entertain the thought, but with the ‘prank’ that Chase is suggesting, he does sort of have an excuse…

“What, like he’s gonna report you to Cuddy? If you don’t wanna do it, that’s fine, but at least make your excuse a believable one,” Foreman scoffs. “You know as well as we do that the man wouldn’t report someone to her unless they stole his Vicodin. Anything else is fair game to House.”

At that, Wilson stumbles over himself and nearly hits the floor. He doesn’t know what to say. With a sharp breath, he sits in the chair across from where Chase is on the tabletop and crosses his arms over his chest.

“That may be true, but-”

“And c’mon, it’ll be priceless!” Chase laughs with a mischievous grin. Part of Wilson wants to laugh along with him. The other half of him wants to reach across the conference room table and smack Chase in the head for coming up with something so stupid (and so tempting). “Don’t you want to see his face?”

“I can’t imagine how pissed he would be, so no, not really,” Wilson crosses his arms. He can feel his own gaze darting around the room, probably to avoid making eye contact with Foreman and Chase. “Where the hell did you two even get this idea?”

Wilson nervously paces the room, running his hands through his wavy brown hair.

“It wasn’t my idea,” Foreman quickly spits out, dark brown eyes shooting to Chase, who offers a shrug in return.

“What can I say? I was thinking of more ways to screw with House and it was something that came to mind. I’d argue it’s one of my best ones yet.”

Wilson wants to do it. He’s been looking for an excuse to cross that line with House for years. He shouldn’t, because once he does it, there’s a chance he’ll never be able to go back. Better yet, there’s a chance Wilson will kiss House only for the older man not to give a shit anyways. That’s arguably the worst case scenario. Wilson knows that, if it were to happen, he wouldn’t be able to look House in the eye afterwards. Then, House would know. It would be a nightmare.

No matter how badly Wilson wants to grasp at this opportunity, he’s well aware it could backfire. He gathers what’s left of his willpower to refuse.

“No,” Wilson says, shaking his head.

He hopes that’ll be the end of it. Chase, however, remains persistent.

“Look, if Foreman and I aren’t enough to convince you, how about this? I’ll cover your clinic hours for a month.”

“I’m not House- I don’t mind working in the clinic and I’m caught up on my hours. It’s actually a nice reprieve from my day to day.”

With a sigh, Chase reaches into his wallet and pulls out two bills. He holds them out to Wilson. Foreman holds his head in his hands with an exasperated expression.

“...If covering your clinic hours isn’t enough to convince you, how about two hundred dollars?”

Wilson is an oncologist who makes hundreds of thousands of dollars a year. His debt from medical school is already paid off and he lives a comfortable life despite the three divorces and subsequent alimony payments he’s wracked up. Yet, with Chase so determined to convince him… No one can say he jumped at the opportunity to do this. House will probably just laugh it off- find it hilarious- love that someone was playing him at his own game by pulling a prank so inappropriate and controversial. It’ll be fine, and if it does go to shit, he can just pin the blame on Chase for coming up with the idea in the first place.

So, against his better judgment, Wilson agrees.

“Fine.”

He reaches out to take the money from Chase’s hand and shoves it into the front pocket of his white coat.

“Where do you think he’s at, anyway? He’s usually late, but not this late,” Foreman stands and gestures to the clock on the wall. It’s already almost one in the afternoon.

Knowing him, he’s probably in the cafeteria. He doesn’t have any cases today, so he showed up late to avoid clinic duty and made sure to time it so he wouldn’t get here until the start of his lunch break. He’s just using it to find out where Cuddy is so he can avoid her for the rest of his shift since she can’t make him work during his scheduled break,” Wilson explains. “If I were you guys, I wouldn’t count on seeing him much today.”

“Oh, I know we don’t have any cases, I didn't want to see him for work purposes. I’ve just gotta be there for the big moment,” Chase says while excitedly gathering his things so he can stand and head towards the door. “Well? What are we standing here for? Let’s go; to the cafeteria!”

“You know if he figures out you’re behind this, he’s going to have you covering his clinic hours and shining his shoes for the next year, right?” Foreman chuckles.

“Wait,” Wilson’s eyes flicker between Foreman and Chase, who are now standing by the door and peering back as if they’re waiting for him to join them. “You- you want me to go do this right now?”

“Yeah, duh,” Chase answers. “Now let’s go!”

Chase and Foreman both leave the conference room. Wilson, too stunned to respond, takes a moment to catch up and follow them to the cafeteria. When they arrive, it’s easy to spot House. The man is six foot two and gorgeous, so Wilson manages to pick him out of the crowd in seconds.

House walks by himself in the middle of the cafeteria with a tray of food lazily held in one hand and his cane in the other. His narrow shoulders are adorned with one of the many t-shirts he’s stolen from Wilson and his favorite leather jacket. Wilson’s heart skips a beat when House smiles. The man is probably thinking about some interaction he’s had today where he’s fucked with someone- just for the fun of it. Wilson hates that he’s so in love with that antagonistic side of House, hates that he’s head over heels for House despite years of the older man meddling in his personal life, pulling shitty pranks on him, teasing him, and generally screwing with him at each and every turn.

Maybe this prank isn’t such a good idea. But, as nervous as Wilson is, even he can admit that House deserves to be the one being messed with for once.

“Oh, do you see him?” Foreman says.

“I do,” Chase pipes up and nudges Wilson’s side with his elbow. “Well, what are you waiting for? That money wasn’t for nothing- go for it!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. You owe me twice as much if he starts beating me with his cane for pulling this crap while we’re at work,” Wilson grumbles.

He breaks away from Chase and Foreman and goes up to House, who catches his eye and offers a smile. Wilson forces himself to smile back as House meets him in the middle of the cafeteria with his tray still in hand.

“Hey, Wilson,” House greets, a twinkle in his icy blue eyes. Wilson swallows the lump in his throat and stares back at his friend, who shamelessly eyes him up and down. “What, cat got your tongue? Or did you swallow sandpaper? Seriously, the face you’re making right now makes you look like a constipated-!”

Before House can finish, Wilson goes for it. He places his hands on House’s shoulders, screws his eyes shut, and gently presses his lips into House’s. The other man’s mouth tastes like coffee and Vicodin. It’s a bitter and terrible combination, but it’s House, and Wilson realizes that this may be the only chance he gets to experience it. He commits it to memory, savors it, loves it as if it’s the man himself.

Wilson expects House to pull away. It doesn’t happen.

Fine enough- he figures it’s out of shock, and that House will pull away in a few moments. Wilson is proven wrong when he hears House’s lunch tray clatter to the floor. Surely then, House should retract to pick up the mess. Again, it doesn’t happen.

His cane falls right after the tray, and Wilson gets ready to move, but he finds himself frozen in place when House grips him by the collar and drags him in to deepen the kiss. He moves his mouth against Wilson’s, chapped lips consuming the oncologist’s softer ones.

Wilson is snapped out of it when he hears gasps and whispers in the cafeteria. He jerks back so he can look up at House. There’s no mirror around, but if there were, Wilson is sure he would see that his face has paled with horror. He can’t so much as make eye contact with House.

And for a moment, House appears smug; shit-eating grin, raised eyebrows, and that familiar darkness that takes over his gaze when he feels like he’s won something. However, that smugness is quickly washed away when House scans Wilson’s face.

“It-” Wilson stutters, unsure of how to explain what he was doing or why he was doing it. Unsure of how to react to House kissing him. Unsure of why House kissed him back at all, but especially unsure of why House kissed him back so fast. He barely manages to force out the breathless words his brain jumbles together in its panicked state. “It was just a prank. Chase, he- he thought it would be a good way to mess with you, paid me two hundred dollars. I’ll give you the money, if you want…?”

The initial disappointment that laced House’s expression just seconds before transitions into hardened anger; the kind of ice-cold rage that he so brilliantly displays whenever he feels like he’s been betrayed by someone he trusted. It makes sense. Even in his anxious state, Wilson is thinking rationally enough to know he deserves it and should’ve expected it. After all, House has never taken well to any form of embarrassment.

Without saying so much as a word, House retrieves his cane and swiftly turns to exit the cafeteria, leaving Wilson to pick up the mess of his lunch tray while everyone else stares holes into him.

The next day, Wilson is an anxious mess. He went to House’s office multiple times after lunch yesterday and couldn’t find the man. He called and sent multiple texts, and each and every one was ignored whether it was to House’s office phone, flip phone, or pager. He hasn’t been able to find House in any of the clinic rooms, in the conference room that the diagnostics team uses, or in any of the staff offices including his own, but he knows House is there as the team is apparently working on a new case. House has just done a masterful job of avoiding him specifically.

Wilson quickly comes to the conclusion that House is angry; justifiably so. On top of being kissed in a group full of their patients and colleagues, Wilson also accidentally rejected him in front of said people by jerking away from House’s kiss as if it were the plague and loudly announcing that his initiating of the kiss was just a prank. It’s a miracle the man didn’t quit on the spot and move across the country following that kind of humiliation, because Wilson knows he would have if it were him.

Wilson feels awful about it. All he wants to do is get a hold of House so they can talk in person and clear up this misunderstanding. House put himself out there by kissing Wilson back, pretty much confessed his feelings as eloquently as he could without using actual words, and Wilson went and fucked it up with his panicked response.

The brunette is sitting in his office stewing about the kiss; partially wishing he hadn’t done it in the first place, partially praying for it to happen again. He has a thousand things he should be doing instead; writing a speech for an upcoming conference, emailing patients, looking at lab results for said patients, scheduling consults. Sadly, all he can focus on is House and how badly he wants to find the diagnostician and confess his feelings before this situation can get any worse.

Poor Cameron returned to work today and is clearly uncomfortable with the tension, Chase is amused by the whole thing to an annoying degree, and Foreman is so clearly fed up with all of them. Wilson wishes things would go back to normal- or at least not be like this any longer. It’s only been one day and he’s already exhausted by it.

He has a lunch tray sitting in front of him with a bag of chips and a scrambled egg bowl that he’s hardly picked at. In front of him also sits his laptop, which is opened to show his emai inbox. Before Wilson can start sifting through said emails, the glass door to his office is slammed open so hard he’s surprised it doesn’t shatter and break. He looks up to see House, who angrily hobbles in.

If the situation weren’t so tense, he’d find the whole thing comical; House’s evident anger, House’s childish avoidance of him, the fact that they kissed in the middle of the cafeteria.

“So, it was just a prank,” House says, his tone accusatory.

“Uh,” Wilson nods, takes a sip from his water bottle, and clears his throat. “Yeah. Why did you kiss me back?”

“Well,” House scoffs, eyes darting around the room. He stands in front of Wilson’s desk and impatiently taps his cane against the floor; something he does when he’s trying to come up with an excuse for something. As per usual when he’s been rejected or perceives a discussion as a conflict, he goes on the defensive. “Obviously, I was just playing into the bit. That’s all it was, right? A joke?”

“House, you don’t have to lie. The cat’s out of the bag for both of us now so it’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you to-”

“Now give me the chips on your tray,” House huffs and walks behind Wilson’s desk to stand right next to where he’s sitting. He snatches the chip bag off of the lunch tray in front of Wilson but remains standing so close that Wilson can smell the sandalwood laundry detergent he uses wafting off of his outfit. “I’ve got a case to work on, and this one isn’t a cancer patient, so it has nothing to do with you.”

“But I-” Wilson objects in hopes that House will listen to him enough for them to talk this through, only to quickly be interrupted.

“One more thing,” House pauses.

Wilson is optimistic that they’ll finally get to talk like he’s been wanting. Instead, House puts the chips down, grabs Wilson by the tie, and yanks him up for a kiss. Wilson barely has the time to register the taste of toothpaste and breath mints prior to House pulling away and taking the chip bag back from the desk.

“What the hell-”

“Oh, sorry about that! Try not to get your hopes up or anything,” House says in a mocking tone and feigns a pitying expression as he briskly heads towards the glass door with his cane in one hand and Wilson’s stolen chip bag in the other. “After all, it was just a prank.”

And then, House is gone.

Wilson slumps down into his office chair and lets out a long, heavy sigh. As tempting as it is, it’s best not to chase after House in the middle of the hospital- the jackass will embarrass him someway, somehow. His dark brown eyes land on his now half-empty lunch tray, and then on his open laptop.

“Fucking breath mints… He planned to catch me off guard by coming in here and pulling that, didn’t he? …God, I’ve got so much to do.”

Another day passes with no progress. Wilson was hoping the situation would smooth itself out naturally, but it seems as if House is still equally as pissed as he was the afternoon Wilson kissed him in the cafeteria, so he decides he’ll simply have to find House and sort it out himself.

Wilson knows better than to try and do this honestly. House raged and ran out on him at the hospital the other day, and then avoided him and treated him like shit yesterday. Every call and every text from Wilson has been ignored while House’s team says he’s still responding to them as usual.

So, Wilson brings a box with him to House’s apartment complex. He knocks on House’s door, sets the box down, and quickly hides a few feet away to avoid being seen through House’s peephole. The moment House opens the door to retrieve the surprise ‘package’, Wilson approaches. House quickly scoffs and tries to retreat inside to shut the door, but before he can pull it all the way closed, Wilson blocks it with his foot.

“Nice trick, Jimmy. If I weren’t filled with such unbridled rage and disdain for you right now, I might be impressed. Did you forget you have a spare key?”

“Okay, House,” Wilson starts. He doesn’t bother acknowledging House’s quip about the spare key that was, in fact, forgotten on his keychain. “You’ve been avoiding me and I think we’re just a tad overdue for a nice, long talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about? You kissed me and I kissed you back. You’re not stupid, Wilson,” House rolls his eyes. Realizing that Wilson isn’t going to give up, House swings the door open and stares down at him. Wilson shrinks into himself. While House’s face doesn’t betray his emotions, his hands certainly do. One of them is gripping the doorknob so hard that his knuckles are burning white, while the other is braced against the wall his cane is propped up on. He’s upset; angry, still. “You know how I feel now. There’s no need for an exchange of words.”

“W-Well, I-”

“I can’t even be mad at you, you know. That’s the worst part,” House rambles. Without any indication that he’s going to do so, he storms into his living room, leaving the door wide open. Wilson takes it as an invitation and slinks into the apartment where he shuts the door behind him and takes his shoes off at the entryway. House continues his rant and plops down onto his brown leather couch. “Going and kissing someone as a prank- if I would’ve been in your shoes with Chase telling me to do something like that, I would’ve done it to fuck with you without getting paid. I would’ve jumped at the idea, reveled in it, found it fucking hilarious!”

Wilson blinks, still standing awkwardly in the middle of House’s entryway.

“Then why are you so mad?”

“Because I loved it! I stood there and made out with you like a teenager in the middle of the cafeteria,” House pauses, shakes his head, and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger. “...And I loved it. You know I haven’t been able to solve the case we got yesterday morning because of you? Chase solved it before I did! All because I’ve been letting my brain rot by using it to replay that moment over and over again, thinking of what I could’ve done differently to save myself that kind of embarrassment. I kissed you back, only for the whole thing to be a fucked up joke. Do you know how that feels?”

“You’re saying all of this as if I didn’t also enjoy it,” Wilson spits. To his utter dismay and frustration, House’s icy blue eyes narrow in suspicion. The damn idiot doesn’t believe a word he’s saying; the kiss, the prank, it’s broken the trust that they so blindly had in each other before it happened. It’s turned their entire world upside down. “Seriously, House, you think I would’ve kissed you for enough money even if I really didn’t want to do it?”

“I don’t know what to think,” House whispers, low, almost as if he’s talking to himself. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at the ground. His cane is haphazardly dropped on the floor in front of his bare feet. “I never thought you’d kiss someone at your job like that, much less me, and yet…”

“I’d kiss you in front of just about anyone if you’d let me. Maybe I just like you that much,” Wilson offers. He manages to muster up a smile along with the courage to look House in the eye again. As House stops to process what he’s just said, Wilson slowly walks over and sits next to him on the couch. “And… Maybe the prank was an excuse to kiss you, just to see what it’d be like. I never imagined you’d reciprocate. I panicked and didn’t know what to do because I was caught off guard. Before I did it, I mulled it over and came to the conclusion you’d find the whole thing hilariously disgusting, assume it was just for the money, and we’d never talk about it again. I guess I only got one of those things right.”

“Your deduction skills aren’t the best. They never have been,” House snarks. The anger seems to leave his body as he deeply inhales and exhales. His arms fall into his lap, and much to Wilson’s relief, he smiles back. “At first, I hoped it was a genuine gesture. It’s out of character for you to act out something so dramatic in public, but I’ve felt this way for such a long time that I got my hopes up, so when you panicked… Well, I’m sure you get it.”

“Yeah,” Wilson nods and reaches out to hold one of House’s hands. Surprisingly, it’s the first time they’ve done this, but House intertwines their fingers as if it’s natural for them. Wilson could get used to the warmth that comes from House’s calloused thumb gently stroking the back of his hand. “I think I do, but… It was wrong of me to agree to do that in the middle of the cafeteria for my own selfish reasons. I should’ve manned up and told you how I felt on my own instead of using that stupid prank Chase came up with as an excuse to kiss you and gauge your reaction.”

“I’m not going to deny that. Still, though, are we going to sit here and pretend like I didn’t deserve it to some extent? I know I’ve run you through the wringer for a long time, Wilson,” House laughs and leans back into the couch, eyes now trained on the ceiling above them. “I’m sure the sadistic part of you that you refuse to admit is there got some sort of satisfaction out of making me miserable for a day or two.”

“Not really,” Wilson chuckles. House is staring at him now. It looks like he wants something- maybe like he wants Wilson to say something specific- but Wilson isn’t sure what it is. “I wanted to shock you, maybe, not make you scorch-the-earth pissed for two days. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“Well,” House smirks, icy blue eyes flickering to Wilson’s lips and then back up to meet the brunette’s gaze. “I do have one idea, but I’m afraid you may not be comfortable doing it without an audience; say, a cafeteria full of our patients and coworkers.”

Wilson scoffs and rolls his eyes, a fond smile taking over his face. He scoots closer to House and places his spare hand on the man’s thigh.

“Fortunately for you, I’m afraid you’re wrong- and yes, you are capable of being wrong.”

“Really? Then prove it.”

“Fine.”

With that, Wilson leans in and kisses House once again, the two men struggling not to grin against each other’s lips.

#james wilson #greg house x james wilson #gregory house #james wilson x gregory house #hilson fanfiction #hilson #house fanfiction #house x wilson #housemd #house md #oneshot #oneshots #drabble #drabbles

79 notes · View notes

that-basic-simp · 1 month

Text

Smile

Mizu x Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 1.1k+

A very rare moment, yet fleeting one, was seeing Mizu smile. An even more rare moment was hearing her laugh. And when she did either of them, I cherished it. I cherished those moments with her because she has not known peace in a long time and for her to be loose and at peace like that, it meant everything to me. For her to be like that in front of me, I wanted to rid of every thing that would stand in her way just to ensure she could smile and laugh on a normal basis. But with her past, it was hard to come by.

She'd have spells of nightmares where she'd remember those times of her youth and her previous relationship. To when both her husband and mother betrayed her in a sense. It took a long time for her to trust me, but I had shown her time and time again that I would never betray her. Not even after she left for London and didn't return for a very long time. I was just worried sick. And when she did return, it was a moment of relief for her and I. Now we could settle down for a bit, but it was hard for her to return to a peaceful life after living one in constant fear and blood.

Upon her night returning home to me, we celebrated well into the late night and early morning. But it wasn't the typical celebration that most would think. It was just her and I, sitting, drinking tea and her recounting the events that happened in London and beyond. How she had to adapt to not only the clothing style, but the fighting style. Like Fowler brought guns to Japan, London was more technologically advanced for the time period. So it was hard for her to fight at times. I remember the one conversation we had when she came back.

"Holding a gun is easy, being able to shoot one off is hard," she said, staring into her reflection of the tea. "A gun makes killing people a lot easier than a sword or a spear ever could."

"Is it because there's no effort into it?"

"It's like what Swordfather told me. A sword is a line between life and death. A gun takes lives easier than a sword. I have to put in the effort because I know that if I don't, I will get hurt. Or even killed."

"But you were successful."

"That I was," she said, sipping her tea.

I smiled, "I knew you had it in you."

She smirked, "What are you talking about? Are you saying you doubted me?"

"Who knows? Maybe I was," I chuckled.

That smirk turned into a smile, and before I knew it, it turned into a small chortle. My heart fluttered as she tried to hide that smile behind the cup of tea. Reaching over, I lowered it and found her smile. The smile that always made my heart soar whenever I saw it. The smile I loved seeing and whenever I do, makes me realize how much I love her. How I have fallen head over heels for her the minute I saw her take down Taigen with ease.

"Mizu," I whispered.

"Yes, Y/N?" she asked, her smile still lingering as we found one another's eyes.

It was that night when we slept together in a long time. A mess of wrapped up and entangled limbs. Just how I liked it. And in the morning, it was even better knowing that she didn't have to leave, but she still trained. She didn't have to anymore, but she still wanted to retain that talent she had with the sword. And I'd sit and watch her from the porch as she swung her sword with ease. Moving back and forth fluidly like water. Like her name.

For the most part, after she returned home, was the same thing day in and out. Wake up in the morning, eat breakfast, she'd go train, and then I'd do some things around the house. It was a routine both of us had to get used to. But spending it with Mizu made it all the more better.

"Mizu?" I asked one night while we were eating dinner together.

"Yeah?"

"What do you have planned for the future?"

She coughed slightly on her tea. Removing the cup from her mouth, she patted her chest before clearing her throat.

"I-I didn't really have any plans. T-The last time I settled down, it didn't go well."

"I know," I said.

"I just need to be prepared for anything that comes our way."

"Do you think people will come after you again?"

"I don't know," she shook her head. "But you can never be too sure."

"Do you worry about me turning you in?" I asked after some silence had passed.

"Never. I never worry about that."

I let out a sigh of relief, knowing that she can still trust me.

"Even if someone tried to get information out of me, I'd never tell them anything."

"If someone so much as touches you in a malicious way, they are losing their hand without a second thought."

Her face turned serious, almost like a scowl. I sat there, blinked a few times before my lips cracked into a smile. Soon, I started to giggle, and then that turned into full on laughter.

"Did I say something funny?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"No," I smiled. "It's just that, you'd go to great lengths to keep me safe."

"Why wouldn't I?"

I shrugged, still smiling. "Never really thought I'd find someone who would want to protect me."

"Y/N," she set her tea cup down and grabbed my hands. "If there was ever a reason I needed to raise my sword and take a life, you're that reason. My mission may be over. My path of revenge has finally stopped and there was so much blood on my hands. But, I put that behind me. It's over and done with. I don't even want to raise my blade to another person's neck. Unless I have to. I have a new mission now. A new path. A path of a protector. Protecting you."

A soft smile appeared on my lips as tears started to form in my eyes. She removed her hands from mine and cupped my face softly, wiping the tears away. Leaning towards me, she lightly placed her lips against mine. My eyes fluttered closed and I melted into the kiss. It only lasted a few seconds until she pulled away, pulling me into her embrace.

"I never want to lose you," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "I think I'd lose myself if I lost you."

"I'll never leave you, Mizu. And I know you'll do anything to keep me safe."

"I will do anything."

Pulling away, I reached up and placed my hand against her cheek, entranced by those blue eyes of hers. How they popped out against the firelight that flickered beside her.

"I love you, Mizu."

A very soft and gentle smile appeared on her lips. Tears formed in her eyes as she pressed her forehead against mine.

"I love you, too, Y/N."

#bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #mizu #blue eye samurai

129 notes · View notes

ofbreathandflame · 6 months

Text

(heavy discussions on sa - this is actually an older post that i made like months ago, and was actually the first draft of the amarantha taboo post, so some things sound similar! just a heads up!)

you know i actually think there is a wider discussion to be had about rhysand's sexual assault - or sexual assault and trauma as it functions in the wider narrative. ive always felt that bc the story puts rhysand in this vulnerable position (i.e. a victim of sexual violence) the story always needs to like...make up for it, if that makes sense?

what i mean is: the story creates this dynamic where rhysand is a victim; he has no power, control, or say - but it also has a very hard time reconciling to the fact that he was placed in this position. and so there's these weird placeholding pieces of information that often addle or confuse the narrative. and i talked about this before with rhysand's framing of his 'service to amarantha.' i also contributes to the moments of hyperviolence with rhys in the books, as if he constantly has to make up for the fact he was placed into these vulnerable positions in the first, implicitly.

the first book - and other books thereafter - imply that rhysand's court is specificially shielded from amarantha because he aligns himself (action word). rhysand's decision is framed as a 'sacrifice' which implies a choice (that he didn't really have). it always implies that rhysand is the one consciously 'one-upping' amarantha by 'agreeing' to be her 'right hand man' again - notice how despite the fact amarantha is characterized as a sexual deviant, she's rarely the focus. its what rhys 'gave' and not what 'amarantha did.'

and this is fine if this is the way rhysand chooses to see what happened to him - bc then that's a trauma response. he can't acknowledge it so its better for him to rationalize it - that would have been great writing.

but thats not how his sexual assault and role utm is discussed.

other characters view rhys sexual assault as a statement of heroism (which ew) and not a just a statement of amarantha's capacity for sexual violence. tarquin literally says something along those lines. which again is implying that RHYS HAD A CHOICE. we can't frame this as heroism. he was raped, he did not sacrifice something...it was taken.

in the initial scenario - where we remove the idea of autonomy (e.g. the idea that rhys purposely aligns himself with amarantha) he's a victim. but then - so is tamlin, tarquin, beron, kallias, and helion. in short - rhys being taken advantage of says nothing about him. it's a statement on amarantha's cruelty. but the story isn't satisfied with this bc...how would he be any different than tamlin whose vilified for being directly affected by his trauma, who 'sat on his ass for fifty years' as the book says.

its the tragedy of how male sexual assault is rationalized in this series. the story literally purposely sets up a mirror position where rhys and tamlin are consistently compared for how they work through some of the craziest trauma ever known to man. the level of trauma the story is asking these characters to 'overcome' is actually quite insane.

so the story ups the ante, it doesn't want rhys to be 'just a victim,' it wants him to be the MAN TM. bc tamlin and tarquin are 'just victims' so ewww. like even lucien is given another horribly written experience with sexual assault (which it literally has to bend the worldbuilding to accomplish) and then kind of position his complaints abt ianthe as whiny. or how tarquin's trauma is...not 'dark' enough for feyre. these men are often characterized as cowardly or not enough in relation to rhys. helion, thesan, tarquin, and tamlin are all consistently characterized as 'cowards' with little to no initiative or backbone.

so the story does that thing where it provides impossible situations: rhysand is the most powerful being in the world, he's so powerful that even without his 'real' power, he's still light years more powerful than the others when they're powers are ripped away. he can read minds, and has two wraiths that can literally walk through the walls and spy. he's often sent on missions on behalf of amarantha and can waltz in and out of the spring court without any issues (ie. its easy for him to convince amarantha he needs to go to the spring court multiple times. and then when he works for amarantha - he's the mastermind, not her. he's playing her all along and blah blah blah). but then it doesn't know how to write this dynamic with rhys and amarantha. and then it depowers him, while shaming the other men in the series for not doing 'enough' even when the most op character with all of those advantages isn't even able to over power her.

there's little introspection into amarantha as a character and as a villain -- and you'll notice she's hardly ever mentioned after the first book...despite the fact that she was literally the high queen of prythian and was the governing oppressive force for a half-century. as said in this post - the story isn't actually concerned about making a point about male sexual asault.

and that's why i talked about why that amarantha taboo is...kind of important to how the story chooses to conceptualize sexual violence/assault. the choice to create amarantha (and ianthe and maeve too) as these caricatures of sexuality - which is pretty much the case of all of sjm's villains.

the story doesn't want to fully commit to a tactical scenario, because it doesn't believe that he's a victim in that capacity - or at least that the victimhood is valid. bc its spends so much time invalidating the male trauma around rhys, the only way to make a distinction between rhys and the others to have rhys "orchestrate" his own assault to save everyone.

#anti sjm #anti rhysand #anti feyre #anti sjm: rhysand #anti feysand #anti sjm: amarantha #anti acomaf #this was actually something ive thought about for while #i can never quite put into words the weirdness in narrative framing around #amarantha #in which the story can never just allow rhys to actually be a victim without having to moralize his actions #believe or not #it actually would be much more compelling if rhysand's behavior were framed #as trauma responses. he doesn't have to be moralized #he just has to make sense in the given frameworks of the story #or the story could just drop the morals an just allow these characters to be shitty in a grimdark way

139 notes · View notes

alpaca-clouds · 7 months

Text

Rape, Abuse, Trauma and the Need for Power

This topic has been sneaking around in my brain for days now. Because I find it quite interesting to see this depicted in now multiple franchises. And I really want to talk about it. Partly, because I see some people struggling to understand it. So, let me, an abuse victim, explain.

You see these three characters? Yeah, they actually have a lot in common. Let me explain.

Spoilers vor Castlevania, Stray Gods and Baldur's Gate, obviously.

All three of them were victims of abuse and (probably) also rape. It should be noted that with both Carmilla and Persephone it is never outright said that they were raped, but it is heavily implied. With Astarion, obviously, it is outright stated.

More than that, we do know about all three of them that they were also abused. Both Carmilla and Astarion by their respective sires. Persephone by Hades.

And they also have one other thing in common: Their character arc features them trying to get some sort of power. Let me go through with them.

Carmilla was abused by her sire. We do know very little about the details, only that he was very cruel. There is some heavy implication that the abuse involved rape. At some point she killed her sire. Her entire character story is about her trying to get power for herself. First by trying to get control over Dracula's Castle. Then she tries to build her own empire. With her mental health getting worse, she ends up fantasizing about world domination.

Persephone in Stray Gods was kidnapped, raped and abused by Hades. She had everything taken from her during this, until she finally could not take it any longer and killed Hades. But the other gods denied her to take control over the underworld. Her basic conflict stems from her wanting to regain control over the underworld again.

Astarion is of course the odd one out, given we learn a lot more about his abuse. But like the two women, he was abused, raped and tortured. Due to the DnD vampire rules, he had no way of actually fighting back against his sire, with him escaping just through what amounts to sheer luck. When he learns that his sire wanted to sacrifice him (and many others) to gain a lot of power, Astarion wants to finish the ritual for himself, gaining the power.

The outcome of course is different for all three.

Carmilla gets killed, once she goes down the "world domination" thing. While with Persephone and Astarion it depends on player choice. I would argue though, that the happy end for them both is them giving up the power. That is Persephone giving up the throne and Astarion not finishing the ritual.

What is the interesting thing about this... Or, well, interesting might be the wrong world. But it is well written. Because this is very, very realistic for their backstories.

See, both abuse and especially rape are a lot about power. The abuser/rapist takes full control over the victim's body and life. (Which is also why rape rarely has to do with sexual enjoyment, and more with the rapist wanting to assert power.) Or, from the perspective of the survivor: It is all about having the power taken away from them.

This is bad enough if it is something that is a one time occurance. But if the survivor is in the situation for a long time, they experience a prolonged period of powerlessness and fear. The survivor is constantly afraid, constantly in survival mode, constantly trying to just get through it.

In my life I have seen too many bad takes along the lines of: "Rape survivors should stop whining. How bad can one rape be?" And those people do once again not understand: Rape is not about the sex. It is about having control and power over your own body taken away from you. It is about you being turned into a thing to be used by someone else. Which does not even mention the feeling of fear most people experience during a rape, as they do not know what kind of other violence might follow.

And this is something that leads the survivors to even after escaping the abuse, the trauma often leaves them feeling powerless. They might objectively not have less power than they had before the abuse happened, but to the traumatized nervous system it feels like that. And the traumatized brain does not work logically or objectively. All it knows is: The survivor has not enough power to prevent this situation from occuring again. But here is the thing: No amount of power will make them feel like they have enough power, like they can meaningfully protect themselves from further abuse.

This is why Carmilla is escalating so much in season 4 of Castlevania. Because no matter how much control and power she gets, she does not feel like it is enough to protect herself.

This is also why I do feel like the happy end for both Persephone and Astarion is them giving up their symbol of power. Because the thing is, that them gaining the power will just push them along into a spiral of needing more power to keep themselves in a feeling of being safe. Which is why the good ending for them needs to involve them being convinced to basically trust people again. Because that is a path that given enough time can lead to healing. Them gaining the power won't. In terms of their trauma the power they might gain is just a bandaid on an infected wound.

I have seen a lot of people argue that you should let Astarion finish the ritual, because it "is what he wants". But the thing is... it isn't. All he wants is to feel safe. And he thinks if he gains that power, he can feel safe. But he can't. To feel safe he needs to heal.

#analysis #baldurs gate 3 #castlevania #castlevania netflix #stray gods #astarion #bg3 astarion #castlevania carmilla #stray gods persephone #trauma #cw rape #cw sa #cw abuse

127 notes · View notes