#he's so fine and if you disagree you're wrong. very very wrong
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"i don't believe friendship between a boy and a girl exists."
being best friend with suna rintaro for years, you didn't expect to hear those words come out of his mouth while you're sitting on your bed. you were scrolling through tiktoks each on their own phone, and you saw a video with a boy joking about being in the friendzone. you laughed and shoved your phone in his face, expecting him to find it just as funny as you did. but the only reaction you got out of him was a little grin and that sentence. the sentence that left you quite a lot puzzled.
blinking fast, you frowned and looked at him: "wh-what do you mean?"
suna took a deep breath and put his arms behind his neck, getting in a restful position. "well, biologically, we're made to procreate. so when you find someone whom you can bond with, you can't help but think of them as a potential mate."
you still didn't get it. seeing your confused expression, suna breathed loudly again and dropped the scientist-like act he put on. "one of them has got to be in love with the other."
you mantained your baffled expression for a second, then burst out laughing. because he must be kidding, right? suna raised an eyebrow and looked at you with the same face as you. "what are you laughing at?"
"well, i am not in love with you!" you joked back. then your laughter faded, as the words he just said sinked in.
suna was probably hearing the wheels in your mind turn. with excessive nonchalance, and a badly hidden smirk, he checked his phone and just said: "ah, it's gotten pretty late. 'm goin' home."
and with the biggest audacity in the world, he leaned in and planted a kiss on your cheek. then he got out of your room, leaving you with the same position and expression for about five minutes.
#idk what this is honestly#like it just came to me at midnight#ofc i had to do this with my man suna rintarō#he's so fine and if you disagree you're wrong. very very wrong#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintaro x y/n#rbs are appreciated!#suna rintaro imagine#suna rintaro scenarios#suna rintaro fic#suna rintaro x you#suna rintaro#suna x reader#suna x y/n#suna imagine#suna scenario#suna fic#suna rintaro fluff#suna fluff#haikyuu#haikyuu fic#haikyuu scenarios
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There's one convo with Astarion that's one of my favorites that I haven't seen mentioned or discussed yet happens (I assume) if you have high approval with him but play a good-aligned character. (This is at 60+ approval, start of Act 2.) It's probably because it's not a romantic cutscene so it doesn't get mentioned as much as the others (or because he's racist in it and some of y'all don't like to acknowledge that he has character flaws), but I think it's vital to his character and to explain his early relationship with a good-aligned Tav.
I would like to break it down a little, step by step. Because we are all cringe here.
First, he claims to feel a connection between Tav and himself, and the reason for this is because he believes he's identified "ambition" in Tav (and I'll explain why he's wrong later, but that's mostly headcanon territory, so we'll ignore it for now).
But, there's also clearly something holding Tav back from realizing their full potential, which is their naivete.
"Just that you ... have a big heart. You like doing what's right."
(The animations and voice acting here make him look and sound so fucking condescending, 10/10.)
However, Astarion doesn't tell them this is wrong, or that he disagrees. He implies it's a flaw, but doesn't state it outright. That's dangerous territory, see, and might predispose them to get defensive and reject what he has to say next.
No, he tries (and fails in my case, but it's cute that he tries, bless him) to manipulate Tav by appealing to that big heart of theirs.
"So I was thinking, what would be the right thing to do when we get to Moonrise Towers? When we come face-to-face with whoever is controlling the parasites in our heads."
"I'm just saying there's an opportunity here. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and liberate the world from this evil."
See what he's doing? You like doing what's right, so what would be the right thing to do? We can keep ourselves safe. Liberate the world from evil.
It's very blatant, but he's trying to appeal to Tav's good nature by framing his questionable ideas as something that will benefit the greater good, something that's morally righteous that they would agree with.
And of course, it's incredibly funny when you ask how he thinks you'll do that, and he fumbles and admits he's not a "details person," but it's also revealing.
He thinks he's found in Tav ambition, when all he's actually found is ability. Tav exercises power proficiently, while Astarion does not. If he had the authority they have, he'd let ambition drive his actions, which is why he assumes that's what drives Tav when they exercise their power. A good-aligned Tav has very little ambition, I'd argue, but they have plenty of opportunity to exercise their power, which they do when their hand is forced.
So what Astarion is saying is, in effect, hey, you have power, I have ambition. Will you please use your authority/ability to do what I want? Here's how it'll totally be for the greater good, I prommy.
This is brilliant writing, and I really applaud Larian for managing to walk that fine line of making Astarion so sympathetic while he's literally trying to manipulate the player character. Because when I first got this convo, my thought was both "wow, I adore how blatant and terrible his manipulation attempts are, it's kind of endearing" and "he's so terrified, it's genuinely quite tragic."
If we control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe. This works only somewhat as an appeal to good-aligned Tav, because it could also potentially sound very selfish, especially if Tav is the self-sacrificing sort. So notice how, when he says "liberate the world from evil", it sounds kinda tacked-on, an afterthought designed to bury his main goal, which is keep "ourselves" (i.e. himself) safe. Like, yes, this will keep us/me safe, but if you're not into that, then it'll totally help the world, too! It doesn't quite work, because he still sounds ironic and like he doesn't believe they'd be liberating anything from any evil (work that 10 Charisma, boy), but that's the intent, I think.
Does he want power for power's sake? Yes. Is he gleefully powerhungry? Absolutely. But he's also fucking terrified, and that slips through just a little bit, even behind the smug and confident facade.
He's trying to get Tav, whom he's seen exercise their power over others, to lend some of it to him, so that he may never fear anything ever again.
All of this from a short, smug convo where he admits he's too stupid to figure out how to fulfill his dreams of world domination.
God tier characterization, 10/10.
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The Hufflepuff Code
James Potter x gn!Hufflepuff!reader (no use of y/n)
Word count: 3.6k
CW: Use and discussion of weed, mentions of alcohol, light kissing, reader under the influence of weed, mentions of food and eating
Summary: You have a secret.... Or, at least, your Hogwarts house, Hufflepuff, does, and you can't tell your Gryffindor boyfriend James. Only problem is, your boyfriend is very charming and has an inclination for mischief. What could go wrong?
A/n: Hiiiii, I hope you enjoy! This work is vaguely based off the Harry Potter discourse on TikTok a few months ago, about what parties would be like in each Hogwarts house! Please don't take offense if you're a Gryffindor lol, I love them. Also, until I find a fancast for James Potter that I like (I imagine him as desi), I will be using ATJ.
Going to Hogwarts requires a lot of studying….something you are trying to do but failing, because a pair of hazel eyes can’t help but bore into your face. You double down into your books to avoid your boyfriend’s gaze, but his intensity only increases. He shifts from mute staring to pokes and silent whispers of your name.
Finally, you snap your head up and look at him, “what?!” You whisper.
“Just missed you s’all,” James says sheepishly.
Your heart can’t help but melt a little, “sweetheart, I’m right here.”
“Yeah but you’re studying and not paying attention to me.” He whines.
“Well, I did invite you to the library to study, not snog or make small-talk.”
James eyes light up, “oh that sounds like so much more fun. We should do that instead.”
“Sorry Jamie, as much as I’d love to, I can’t. Gotta study.”
He huffs and rolls his eyes dramatically, “fine. But I expect your full, undivided attention later.”
You cringe a little and guiltily avoid his sweet, beautiful face. “I-I’m sorry I can’t hang out later.”
“Baby,” he says rather loudly.
You shush him a little and grab his hands in apology, “I’m sorry, I made plans earlier this week.”
The brunette pouts at you and shakes his head, his mop of curls falling into his eyes as he does so, “with who?”
“My friends-“
“Friends? What friends?!” Your boyfriends protests.
You glare at him a little.
“Sorry, sorry,” he whispers, “I just mean, what friends could you possibly be hanging out with instead of me? I mean, I’m the bestest friend.”
You kiss one of his hands intertwined with yours, “I know, sweetheart, you are. But I need a little non-boyfriend-friend-time sometimes, you know?”
“Well-uh I can pretend to not be your boyfriend for a night,” he disagrees, “I can gossip and, do whatever your friends do.”
You chuckle a little, “I know you can, and honestly, I’m sure they will be happy to have you in the future. But that’s not the type of hangout we’re having.”
“Okay, so then what are you doing?”
“Burying bodies, holding seances, the likes,” you tease, trying to avoid a serious answer.
James just glares at you, not impressed by your jokes.
“Sweetheart, don’t be mad,” you plead, bringing out your puppy dog eyes, “promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he answers, dismissively waving his hand. “That I’m not concerned about anymore. What I really wanna know is what you’re getting up to tonight,” he says, quirking an eyebrow.
You’re pretty sure his eyes peer into your soul, trying to unleash all your secrets. It makes you shiver and look down at your paper.
“Oh you know, typical Hufflepuff things.”
“Hmmm?” He asks, shifting closer to you. “Like what?”
“Uhhh eating food, potting plants, being loyal.” You mumble out.
He gets closer and lifts your chin to make you look at him. James, the bastard, knows the effect he has on you. Teasing you with your closeness, knowing his cologne drives you crazy, his eyes make you melt, and his lips leave you defenseless. He licks his lip a little and you slightly groan.
“So you’d rather pot plants than spend time with me?” James asks quietly.
Words leave you at this moment and you only stutter a little. You try to lean in for a kiss, the tension unbearable, but he pulls back. “Nuh-uh.”
“You don’t get a kiss for lying.”
You whine a little. “I’m not lying, I’m just concealing some of the truth.”
“Why, love? Do you not trust me?”
Your face softens, noticing the slight sadness in his voice. You grab his face and brush his dark curls away from his eyes.
“No Jamie. It’s not that, it’s just- well it really is sort of a Hufflepuff thing. A code of conduct, you know?”
He furrows his brows, “uhh, not really, no.”
“Well, I’m sure Gryffindor has some traditions, right?”
James shakes his head, “well it’s sorta the same thing for Hufflepuff, just more secret.”
“But I won’t tell anyone” your boyfriend says softly, kissing your hand, “promise.”
“I know, sweetheart. It’s not that I can’t tell you, it’s well, I can’t tell-“ you hesitate.
“Who?”
“Gryffindors,” you say, quietly.
Confusion clouds his pretty face, “what d’you mean you can’t tell Gryffindors?”
You cringe and pull away, “I’ve said too much already, sweetheart. Sorry, house loyalty.”
He scoffs, “what about loyalty to me?”
“Don’t do that,” you tsk, “it’s really not that serious. Just silly house traditions, a little bit of rivalry, yeah?”
“Well then if it’s not that serious, just tell me,” he counters.
You groan. He’s really not gonna give this up.
“Fine,” you mumble. “Come on, let’s go somewhere more private.”
You gather your books and motion for him to follow. He stands up obediently and packs up his things before taking yours from you. As you walk down the halls, you find an empty classroom and push the two of you inside.
“You know if you wanted to get me alone, you could’ve just asked,” he teases.
You roll your eyes and slap his shoulder playfully, “pervert…just wanting to get in my pants.”
“Can’t help it when you’re so beautiful,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your lips.
You hum in content and lean into the kiss, holding onto his arms gently.
“Could keep you here all night,” he sighs against your lips, as his warm hands wrap around your waist.
You huff in disappointment and pull away a little, “you know you can’t Jamie baby.”
“Worth a shot.” He sits down on a desk and spreads his legs a little, letting you stand between them, “so if I can’t convince you to skip this tradition, then tell me what it is at least. And why can’t Gryffindors know?”
You sigh a little, “okay, don’t get mad, because I didn’t decide this, remember, it’s tradition.”
James pauses and then shakes his head for you to continue.
“So, basically, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw have this arrangement to have three annual parties. One hosted by Hufflepuff, one by Slytherin, and one by Ravenclaw.”
“And why not Gryffindors?”
You wrinkle your nose in awkwardness, “well…cause the other houses don’t really like Gryffindor all that much.” Before James can protest you add, “it’s not that we don’t like Gryffindors at all, it’s just, we don’t like when you’re all together. On your own or in small groups you’re fine. But in large party settings you guys get loud, and stupid, and well…..annoying. And, the other three houses got sick of it, so they decided to start hosting a few no-Gryffindor-allowed parties every year.”
James simply stares at you in silence. “And this has been going on for how long?”
“Uh, 20 years at least,” you say.
The boy’s mouth drops, “and no Gryffindor has ever found out?!”
“Not really, no. We keep it super secret.”
James scoffs, “I mean, well that’s sort of ridiculous don’t you think? Hosting secret parties just to keep us out?”
“Look,” you say gently, grabbing his knee, “I didn’t say I agree or disagree. It’s just tradition. And well, I’m not gonna be the one to break it.”
“So what do you even do at these ‘parties’?” he asks with a huff.
“Well Ravenclaw hosts the first, in the Fall, a sort of poker, gambling game night, but with lots of booze. Very classy actually, typical Ravenclaw. And Slytherin hosts next, right before Christmas. It’s a sort of Christmas, bougie, boozie party. Very swanky and jazzy. And Hufflepuff, well, that’s the crowd favorite. Held in second term.”
The brunette raises his eyebrows in curiosity.
“Basically we get a shit load of weed from our secret plant stash, and everyone gets high and eats food. We like, raid the kitchens before hand.”
“WHAT?!” James almost shouts.
You put your hand over his mouth to quiet him. “Shhh, people could hear.”
He takes your hand off. “Hufflepuff has a secret drug stash?! And you hide it from us?!”
“I mean, why do you think we’re so happy all the time?” you say, laughing a little.
“So you-but.”
Your boyfriend’s brain seems to malfunction, “damn, Hufflepuffs are druggies? My partner is a druggie?”
You let out a laugh, “I wouldn’t say druggie…just…plant-positive.”
“So…there. That’s my secret. But you can’t tell anyone. I have my dignity to uphold.” You warn.
“Can I at least come?!”
“No! I’m not even supposed to tell you. Let alone bring you!”
“But-“
“No. Im sorry James, I don’t make the rules.”
“But I wanna get high…and see you high.”
“Well, another time.”
Your tone was final, but James did not take it as such. Instead, he became more determined to find his way in to this mysterious party.
*****
After making James promise to not impose, you left him behind in the classroom with a kiss and a lot of regret. On one hand, you had just broken so many Hufflepuff rules… if anyone were to find out, you’d be shunned for sure. On the other hand, you also felt incredibly guilty for leaving James out. Your sweet boy with his soft eyes and kind smile… but also his loud personality and pranks. You knew he’d never mean any harm, but the likes of him at this sort of party would not be welcome. He’s the definition of Gryffindor. And of course you love him for it, but you’re not sure your peers would.
Back in your dorm, you throw your books down on your desk and then plop onto your bed.
“Long day?” Your friend Emmeline asks.
You groan, “terribly.”
“Good thing we have a chill night ahead of us,” she reminds you, plopping down next to you on your bed.
“Touché Emmy. I’m very ready for an edible and a bag of flaming hot Cheetos.”
“Mhmmm, and those chocolate chip cookies from the kitchens?”
We both sigh in content.
I can feel her staring at me. “Something’s wrong…”
You turn on your side and look at her, “yeah… I just, well, told James I couldn’t hang with him tonight because I had plans and I feel sorta bad… being all secretive you know? We don’t keep secrets.”
She hums in acknowledgement, “hmmm yeah, I get that. But I mean, it’s not like a bad secret y’know? Just tradition.”
“Which is what I told him but still..”
“You didn’t tell him, did you?” She asks, slight mortification on her face.
“No, course not,” you lie, turning back on your back. “Hufflepuff code n’all. Just hard having a Gryffindor boyfriend.”
“Yeah, babe, I know. But you only gotta lie a few times a year, he’ll never know the difference, yeah?”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m overthinking this, I know.”
“Indeed,” the brunette answers, shoving your shoulders lightly. “Now come on, lighten up, we’ve got a fun night ahead of us.”
You smile and sit up, “yes you’re right.”
“Now, I know the vibe is obviously cozy, but I still wanna look cute y’know? What should I wear?”
You hop up and walk over to her closet. “Oh babe, you gotta do your yellow Hufflepuff sweatshirt. With your brown curls and pale skin, you look like freaking Belle from that muggle movie.”
She gasps, “a whole princess?! Wow, I’m flattered. And what about pants?”
“Leggings maybe? Something that makes your ass look good?”
“Take me to dinner first!” She squeals.
You laugh a little and wink, “sorry baby can’t help it.”
Her shoulder length curls bounce a little as she shakes her head at you.
You go into your own trunk as you strip off your school uniform and instead opt for black pajama pants and one of James’ t-shirts that has some muggle band on it. It still smells faintly of him and your heart aches a little at leaving him behind. You brush it off, though, when your other two roommates come in the room, grocery bags in hand.
“We’ve got the goods!” Amelia and Trinity cheer.
“My hot Cheetos?” You ask.
“Course,” Trinity answers, rolling their brown eyes, “this isn’t our first rodeo.”
You squeal and peck them on the cheek before giving Amelia a hug too.
“You guys are my favorite, you know that?”
“Better be,” Amelia huffs. “Otherwise we’d have words.”
You all excitedly chatter as you go through the groceries and get ready for the party.
Trinity ends up in Ravenclaw blue, which looks fantastic against their dark brown skin.
“Trying to impress anyone?” Emmy asks, quirking an eyebrow.
“Hmmm, maybe a certain Pandora Lovegood?” Amelia quips.
Trinity tries to hide a smile but can’t, “duh! She’s just so cute, especially when she’s high.”
“And Amelia? Trying to impress anyone?” You ask, scanning her dark gray sweater and black leggings.
“Nope!” She says, popping the p, “only here for me, myself, and I.”
You force everyone to gather on your bed and hold up your disposable camera, “smile everyone!”
You take a few photos, cute and silly, and then wander down to the common space.
The common room remains mostly the same, besides a few added bean bags and blankets for comfort.
A low, quiet base thumps in the background as people from all three houses lounge around. Amos Diggory, a seventh year, sits at the contraband table.
“What can I do for you folks tonight?” He asks.
Emmeline asks for a blunt, Trinity and I take an edible and Amelia shakes her head, motioning to her pen instead. We crash on the carpet, waiting for the weed to kick in. Everyone around us is laughing, chatting, and snacking, at different levels of gone.
When Pandora walks in, Trinity waves and motions her over. She’s followed by a few of her friends, including Regulus, Rosier, and Crouch.
“Baby Black?!” You cheer.
He rolls his eyes as he sits down next to you. “I thought I told you not to call me that?”
You shrug your shoulders and pat his cheek, “yeah, but I chose to ignore you. I love how cute you get when you pout.”
He can’t help but blush a little and he softens. You have a way with that boy, and he with you. Surprisingly, you are very close friends.
You turn and nod in acknowledgment to the other two, “Rosier, Junior. How’s it going?”
“Better once I’m high” Barty answers. He turns to his friends, “what do you want?”
They tell him and he stalks over, giving Amos a glare while he’s at it.
“Always the delight he is,” Amelia teases. Her eyes are a little heavy, telling me the pen is already working.
“So, Black? What brooding have you been up to recently?” Emmeline jokes.
You swat her arm and can’t help but giggle, maybe a little too hard. “Be nice.”
“Oh you know, just planning your demise” he answers with a smirk.
“I’m the subject of your brooding?” Emmy fake swoons, “I feel honored.”
You laugh again and hug Regulus around the neck, “am I ever the subject of your broodings?”
He looks at you with a small smile, “course. I think about killing you once a week.”
You gasp in fake offense and stick out your tongue. Barty, who’s back with the weed, hands Regulus a blunt. He takes it between his fingers and inhales. Then he looks at you and rolls his eyes again.
*****
James Potter is usually good at keeping promises. However, he’s even better at making mischief. So despite his promise to you to not come to the party, he finds himself a little while later outside the Hufflepuff dorms, albeit hidden under the invisibility cloak. From outside, the hallway is quiet. Any passerby would be oblivious to the party going on within- must be a silencing charm. Unsure how to get into the common room, realizing you hadn’t told him before, he waits outside for someone to, unknowingly, open it for him. He, luckily, doesn’t have to wait long, as two unsuspecting Slytherins stroll past him and up to the barrels sitting outside. In quick succession one pulls out their wand and quickly taps it across the barrels. The brown barrels jump apart, revealing a door. As the two walk in, James closely follows behind, assuring he doesn’t remain locked out.
Though you briefly explained the parties to James, his imagination far underestimated the reality. When you said all three houses went to these parties, you weren’t kidding. The place was packed, with every 4th year up from all three houses lounging around the badger den. The room was thick with smoke and reeked of marijuana. Students were everywhere, standing, lounging, laughing, eating, and even sleeping. Music played in the background, but no one was dancing, seemingly too high to really notice it. He scanned the room and found you in the thick of it all, seated on the carpet by the fireplace. You were with your dorm mates, Emmeline Vance, Amelia Bones, and Trinity Taylor, and also a few Slytherins. He recognized them all actually, one being Sirius’ little brother, who he knew you were actually good friends with. Also Rosier and Crouch, who he wasn’t as fond of, and Pandora, the one Ravenclaw he sorta knew.
Still hidden under his cloak, he weaves through the crowd, careful not to bump into anyone, afraid of getting caught. He throws himself into a corner by the fireplace, listening in on your conversation.
“But Reggie, you’d look so cute with dyed hair!”
The Black boy scoffs at you, “yeah right. What should I go for, bright pink?!”
Your eyes light up as you giggle, “yes! And I’d start calling you baby…. pink? Instead of baby black, cuz you know-“ you giggle again, “your hair would be pink!”
Your words sort of slur together, not that you realize it, and so Regulus only nods, himself also struggling to comprehend what’s happening.
“Wait, I think I have some dye, let me go get it!”
“Wait-“ Regulus calls out but you’ve already gotten up.
James’ heart jumps as you come closer to him, weaving through the crowd on the carpet…
*****
As you stumble towards the stairs of your dorm you freeze. You could’ve sworn you smelt... James’ cologne…..
You shift backwards a little and sniff again. Sure enough, his fancy cologne, one you love but always tease him about, permeates the air. Either you’re really high or….
You suddenly fling your hand outwards to the left. Though there is nothing next to you, you make hard contact with something in the air, and hear a small “oof” from next to you.
A chill runs down your spine and out of the corner of your mouth you mumble, “James. My. Room. Now.”
You don’t bother to hear an answer, knowing he’ll follow you like a lost puppy.
When you’re in your room you shut the door firmly behind you and whip around “James- what the hell.”
Your boyfriend appears before you, taking off the invisibility cloak sheepishly. “Hey, baby.”
“Don’t fucking hey baby me. What are you doing here?” You slur together.
“Uh, missed you?” He says hesitantly.
Your nose flares and you stalk towards him. “You. Fucking. Missed. Me?!” Each word is punctuated with a smack to his chest.
You don’t realize in your unsober state how hard you’re hitting him or how loud you’re talking. He tries to minimize his flinches as he grabs your hands and holds them together.
“Love I-“
“What? Wanted to risk me getting shunned?! Jamie I asked you not to come! I trusted you!!”
“I know lovie. I’m sorry, I just got jealous… and curious. It’s no excuse I know but…”
You huff and throw your head in your hands. It’s spinning for more than one reason, and the weed keeps you from thinking clearly.
“We’ll talk later. You, just stay here with your cloak, yeah?”
He sighs and nods.
His sad puppy dog eyes get to you and you soften a little, pressing a small kiss to his cheek.
You then walk towards the door and open it, only to find the whole of Hufflepuff standing outside your door, staring in shock.
“You, you broke tradition!” Amos Diggory yells, pointing at James.
“I- well- shit” you mutter.
“This is like, breaking the law,” another Hufflepuff argues.
You feel tears prick at your eyes, “I’m sorry guys I- uh.”
“Wait,” your boyfriend says.
Everyone goes quiet.
“It’s not their fault, honest.”
No one seems to believe him.
“Look, I got suspicious of what they’re up to, so I followed them, with my invisibility cloak on. Swear!” He even holds up the cloak, demonstrating its invisibility.
Everyone gasps, “no way, that’s fucking sick.”
“Please don’t punish them because I’m stupid and nosy! Please!” He pleads.
Diggory turns to the head prefects of the other two houses and quietly confer. After a few minutes of quiet whispers, Diggory turns back.
“Fine, fine, you’re off the hook,” he says to you.
“And as to you Potter, well, I guess you’re officially inducted into our little secret now. We can’t have you going around spilling. And I swear, if you tell any one of your little Gryffindor friends, all three houses will rain hell. Understood?”
Even you turn to James and raise your eyebrows. He really does feel a little threatened and nods. “Uh, yeah. Course.”
Diggory claps his hands together, “great! Well then, get Potter some weed.”
As everyone files out, James turns and looks at you nervously.
“Well?”
“You heard the man, let’s go get you some weed.”
“Okay, just- wait.” He grabs your wrist and pulls you flush into his chest.
He kisses you deeply, “love you, baby.”
“Love you too, sweetheart.”
#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter fanfiction#james potter fluff#james potter fic#marauders fanfiction#marauders era#the maruaders
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Better Together
Pairing: Rafael Barba x reader
Summary: Barba acts like he hates you because it's the only way he can keep his cool in your presence. Things come to a head and you call him out on it...
Warnings: cursing, Rafael is a bit of a dick at first. Use of nicknames (baby, cariño, querida, etc.). SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)
A/N: Spanish translations in brackets/italics after each sentence.
cariño/querida: sweetheart/dear/darling/baby/etc.
por favor: please
qué: what
hermosa: beautiful/gorgeous
"Right...and what makes you qualified to make that determination?"
You glared at him. "Eight years of education and ten years of practice."
"Fine, but how long did you actually talk to him?" he countered.
"Four hours."
"So now you're an expert in his mental health?"
You groaned. "He belongs in a psychiatric facility, Barba. Not a prison."
"I disagree. He raped and murdered five women."
"I'm not defending his actions, but I'm telling you he's incapable of understanding the consequences of his actions."
"She's right, counselor," Olivia Benson cut in. "I got the same feeling she did when I first talked to him."
Rafael Barba let out an annoyed huff. "Fine. What do you propose?"
"Offer him a deal," she suggested. "Send him where he can get the help he needs."
Barba nodded, expression still slightly annoyed. "Fine." With that, he walked out of the precinct, presumably to go write up a deal.
As soon as he was out of ear shot, you turned to your friend and colleague. "He argues with me for ten minutes straight, but you tell him the same damn thing and he immediately agrees?"
Olivia shrugged. "You know how he is."
"Pompous, arrogant, rude, and downright insulting?"
She laughed. "All of the above, but he's also a pretty damn good ADA."
You sighed. "I would absolutely love to disagree with you, but you're not wrong. Part of me hates that he's so good at his job. And I hate his smug face and his attitude and those damn three piece suits he looks so goddamn good in," you finished your ramble with a groan.
"Maybe if you told him you thought he was hot, he'd be nicer to you," Olivia said with a wink.
"I hate you."
She laughed. "No you don't."
"Fine, I don't, but I will do no such thing. He quite clearly despises me."
"Does he?"
"Does who what?" Nick Amaro asked as he entered the squad room.
"Does Barba hate (Y/N)?" Olivia asked.
Nick chuckled. "Without a doubt."
"See?!" you said smugly.
Olivia rolled her eyes. "One of these days you're going to have to talk to him. Tell him off for being such an ass to you all the time."
"Now that I agree with," Nick cut in.
"If he pushes the right buttons, I will."
**********
Little did you know that two days later, Barba would push the exact right button.
Olivia, Nick, Amanda, Fin, and yourself were gathered in the squad room discussing your latest case. You had two dead girls in two days and 1PP was already breathing down your necks.
You were going over the profile with the team when Barba walked in. "I know it sounds crazy, guys, but I believe the perp is a girl...probably the same age as the victims."
"Why?" Fin asked.
As you started to explain your reasoning, to include the lack of sexual assault, the relationship between the two girls, and the anger clearly present in the attacks, Barba cut you off with a harsh laugh.
"You think a 10 year old girl is capable of inflicting that kind of trauma?" he interjected. "There's no way."
You took a deep breath in through your nose and exhaled from your mouth before responding. You needed those ten seconds to calm yourself so you didn't murder him. "Were you ever a 10 year old girl?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Obviously not."
"Are you a forensic psychologist?"
"Again, no."
"Have you been working violent sex crimes for 10 years?"
"No..."
"Then be quiet and listen," you finished harshly.
You'd never snapped at him quite so intensely before and he was taken aback. He was also very aware that he may have taken it a little too far this time. He'd made it a point to keep you at arm's length (or farther) for the past 6 months, and he was belatedly realizing he may have been too cruel.
You finished your profile, answering the questions posed by the rest of the squad, before everyone went about their assigned duties.
Barba announced he was going back to his office to update the DA and you were thankful to be rid of him.
"Maybe you were right, (Y/N)," Olivia said softly. "He either hates you or he hates shrinks."
"Likely both."
"I'm proud of you for clapping back," Amanda said warmly. "Someone's gotta put that guy in his place every once in a while."
You smiled mirthlessly. "Once this case is over, I may have more to say to him, but for now, let's focus on finding the person who killed those girls."
**********
Three days later and you had your suspect in custody. You'd been right in your assessment of the perp...it turned out to be a 10 year old girl who had been relentlessly teased and bullied by the two victims for an entire year. The girl finally snapped and killed them both in a blind rage.
After hearing all of the terrible things that had been done to her, you felt sorry for the girl. You understood why she'd killed those girls, even if you didn't condone it.
"Hey, (Y/N/N)," Fin called. "We're going out for drinks. My treat."
"I think I'll take a rain check guys...I've got something I need to do."
"Awww no fun," Amanda teased.
Olivia gave you a look, but you smiled at her reassuringly. She took it to mean you were okay, so she followed the others out.
You'd decided to pay a very special visit to a certain ADA...
You arrived at his office 20 minutes later, and you belatedly realized you probably should have checked to see if he was even there still. It was already after 6pm, but you hoped since he was a workaholic, he would be unaware of the late hour.
When you reached his office door, you found yourself taking a deep breath. You started to question yourself and whether this was a good idea, but then you thought about the way he'd been treating you and you got a burst of courage.
You knocked on his door and waited. You heard a slightly annoyed "Come in", so you opened the door and stepped into his office.
Barba looked up from the paperwork he was buried in, a look of surprise ghosting over his face. "Dr. (Y/L/N)...to what do I owe the pleasure?"
You shut the door behind you and took a step towards his desk. "Do you have a problem with me?"
"Excuse me?" he asked in surprise.
"Do you have a problem with me, specifically, or is it psychologists in general?"
"I don't have a problem with psychologists."
"So it's me, got it. Do you mind telling me what the hell I did to you?"
He had the grace to look sheepish. "You didn't do anything to me."
"Then why do you treat me like I'm some sort of imbecile?"
"I...I never intended to make you feel that way," he said honestly.
"Really? How did you intend to make me feel? You belittle me, insult my abilities and my intelligence, you're unnecessarily rude to me in front of my colleagues..." you trailed off.
He rose from his seat and came around the front of his desk. His expression was unreadable, but his shoulders had slumped slightly. If you didn't know better, you'd think he actually felt bad for the way he'd been treating you.
"You're right," he admitted. "I have treated you entirely unfairly."
It was your turn to look surprised. Out of all the things you'd expected him to say, an admission of guilt was certainly not one of them.
"I don't want you to think, for even a moment, that I don't think you're brilliant. You are the sharpest woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting and you're downright phenomenal at your job."
You opened your mouth and closed it a few times before you could formulate a coherent response. "How in the hell was I supposed to know that?"
He blushed and cast his gaze to the floor. "I suppose there was no way for you to know, given the way I've treated you."
"Why, then?" you asked softly.
He sighed deeply and ran his hand over his face. "It's--complicated."
"Enlighten me, Barba. I've got time."
His green eyes raised back up to meet yours and you found yourself nearly breathless--and not for the first time. His eyes were beautiful, typically sparkling with whit and mischief; but in this moment, they shone with emotions so complex you couldn't begin to comprehend them.
"I never intended to be cruel to you, only distant. But I found that being aloof wasn't enough to keep you at bay--I needed something stronger. So...I started treating you as if I hated you. It was just easier, and perhaps safer."
"Safer?"
He nodded, but neglected to clarify. "Keeping you out of my life has become a necessity, Dr. (Y/L/N)."
His formality annoyed you, but you didn't comment on it. "Then why didn't you just tell me you didn't like me?"
He groaned and turned back to his desk to pour himself a glass of scotch. "Because it's not true, and I'm many things, but a liar isn't one of them."
"Okay, but you want nothing to do with me?"
"Exactly."
"You do understand how contradictory that sounds, correct?"
He took a long drink from his glass and leaned back against his desk. "It sounds moronic, yes, I am aware."
You debated your next words with care. You knew if you said what was on your mind, you might regret it, but you also knew if you didn't say it, you would regret it.
"When I met you, I was instantly intrigued by you," you began. "It was obvious you were highly intelligent, but you were also funny, charming, and impeccably well-dressed. It's a rare combination."
You crossed your arms and sighed. "At first, you were friendly and I quite liked you, but things between us turned icy in an instant. I didn't understand it then and I don't understand it now, but what I can tell you is it hurt me. It hurt me deeply, Barba, and it still does."
If he'd felt like an ass before, he felt 1,000 times worse now. "I never intended to hurt you," he said quietly. "You're a kind and loving soul...and you don't deserve to be treated the way I've been treating you."
"You're right," you whispered. "I don't."
He winced slightly and downed the rest of his scotch. "I am truly sorry, (Y/N). More than you'll ever know."
His use of your first name was not lost on you. You could count on one hand the number of times he'd said it and you'd reacted the same way each time. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, your breath caught, and your heart began to speed up.
Rafael had never noticed before...had never really paid attention to you the very few times he'd said your name, but he saw your reaction this time. For the first time since he'd met you, he began to wonder if you shared his feelings...
You quickly recovered yourself--praying he hadn't noticed. "I appreciate your apology." Your voice was slightly off pitch and you wanted to kick yourself for letting any emotion show.
"May I ask you something?" he said suddenly.
You nodded, not trusting your voice in the moment.
"You said what you thought of me when we first met--what do you think of me now?"
"Do you really want to know?"
He nodded.
You swallowed thickly. "Everything I said is true. You're a brilliant man and an even better lawyer...and you can be funny and charming, when you want to be. But that's not the Rafael Barba I get. I get the one reserved for the criminals and defense attorneys you dislike. The ones that make your skin crawl. You're pompous, arrogant, and cruel."
He closed his eyes tightly. Hearing you say what you really thought of him was much more painful than he'd anticipated.
"But I don't believe that's who you really are," you said so softly he almost didn't hear.
He looked back up at you in surprise.
"I think it's a facade you put up--a mask you wear to hide behind."
"What makes you think that?"
"Call it intuition, or perhaps training," you said with a shrug. "Either way, I am certain you really are the man I met in the beginning--not the man you've been the past several months."
"How could you have that much faith in me? After the way I've treated you..."
"Perhaps it's foolish...or maybe I just want it to be true."
He stared at you with a strange look on his face. It was as if he was trying to decide if you were playing him or being sincere. His expression slowly morphed as he realized you'd meant every word you'd said.
"May I be honest with you?" he asked.
"I want nothing less."
"Truthfully, I'm terrified of you. Absolutely, 100%, completely terrified."
Your jaw dropped slightly. Once again, he’d caught you off guard.
"You got under my skin the moment I met you and I haven't been able to get rid of you since. I've never felt like this--like I can't control my own actions or my emotions--and it's petrifying. I thought pushing you away would change how I felt, but it only intensified it. I think that's why I became crueler over time--I was angry at myself and angry with you for making me feel this way. It's not fair to you, I know, but it's the truth."
You were once again shocked to the core. You almost couldn't believe what you were hearing...if you weren't so good at reading people, you'd be convinced he was lying, but as it stood, you knew it was the raw, painful truth.
"You can't control everything, you know," you said quietly.
He laughed harshly. "God, how I wish I could."
"What are you so afraid of?"
He took a moment to answer, but once he did, the words poured out of him. "I'm afraid the way I feel about you will ruin both of our careers. I'm afraid that once you see the man behind the mask, you'll run and leave me broken. I'm afraid that we'll fall apart...that we won't stand the test of time. I'm afraid of falling so deeply in love with you that I lose myself completely. But most of all, I'm afraid that I've already screwed this up beyond repair."
For all your education and all the eloquent words you've learned in your lifetime, you found yourself stunned into complete and utter silence. No words came to mind, no coherent thoughts emerged. You stared at him and he stared at you, as the silence dragged on.
After what had to be an eternity, Rafael spoke again. "Please say something. Anything. Tell me you hate me. Tell me you never want to see my face again. Tell me you'd rather jump off a building than be with me--"
"Stop!" The intensity of your demand silenced him. "Just stop talking…I…I can't find the words I want to say, but I do know one thing: I'm not afraid."
Out of all the things you could have said, all the beautiful sentences you could have strung together, those three words were the perfect response. Fueled with sudden courage, Rafael crossed the space between the two of you in three long strides, coming to a stop a few inches from you.
With a shaking hand, he gently stroked your cheek. "May I?" he asked quietly.
Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes met his and you softly begged, "Please."
He leaned into you, lips pressing against yours with soft insistence. The kiss ignited something within you--a desire so deep and powerful it almost frightened you. You grabbed ahold of his suspenders and tugged his body closer to yours as you deepened the kiss.
Rafael moaned softly against your lips, tongue pressing forward, requesting access. You obliged, lips parting to allow him entry. His hands traveled down your soft curves until they landed on your hips. He used his gentle strength to pull you flush against him, his own body backed up against his desk to support him.
You could feel his need for you in his kiss, in his touch...and in his pants. His growing erection was pressed against you, so close to where you wanted him, yet so far away.
Rafael broke the kiss for a moment. "Carmen left for the day."
"Mhmm," you hummed in response.
"But I don't want our first time together to be on the couch in my office."
"How 'bout the desk?" you teased lightly.
He groaned. "Don't think I haven't imagined it, but I'd like to take you home...do this properly--in a bed."
You stared at him for a moment. "If we stay here, it can be casual, unassuming. If I go home with you...that changes everything."
"I don't want casual. I don't want a fling. I want you--and everything that comes along with that."
You studied him closely before responding. You noted the sincerity in his voice and his expression and decided to--for once--allow your heart to lead your decision. "Take me home, Rafael," you whispered.
He breathed deeply, as if trying to control himself. It appeared that you had the same effect on him as he did on you when you called him by his first name.
He didn't say a word--you weren't even sure he could have if he'd wanted to. He simply grabbed his jacket, took your hand, and practically dragged you to the elevator. Once outside, he hailed a cab and helped you into the backseat before sliding in beside you.
As the cab began to move, you rested your hand on Rafael's thigh. He glanced at you, but didn't say anything. You were feeling bold, so you slid your hand slowly up his thigh, inching closer to his evident arousal.
When your fingertips brushed against his clothed cock, he hissed slightly. He leaned over to whisper into your ear so the cab driver wouldn't hear. "Careful, querida. O puedo perder el control [Or I may lose control]."
You inhaled sharply--something about his tone mixed with the hushed Spanish words, sent a jolt of pure arousal straight to your core.
Your reaction didn't go unnoticed by Rafael. He smirked as he discovered one of your kinks. He tucked the knowledge away for later use.
You managed to behave yourself for the rest of the short ride to his apartment, but once inside the building, all bets were off.
His lips were on yours the moment the elevator doors slid closed, pressing your body firmly against the wall. Your fingers tangled in his hair, messing up the perfect locks.
As the elevator dinged and the doors began to open, you reluctantly pulled away from each other. You saw the desperation in his beautiful green eyes and you knew the same look reflected in yours.
He wasted no time guiding you to his apartment and the moment you were both inside, he had you spun around and pressed up against the door.
“Querida,” he whispered hungrily against your lips, fingertips dancing under your shirt.
You moaned softly as you tugged harshly on his suspenders, pushing them out of the way so you could remove his shirt.
Within moments, your clothes and his were strewn across the house as he carried you to his bedroom, nothing left between you but underwear.
Rafael tossed you gently onto the bed before climbing on top of you. He eyed you hungrily—sprawled out beneath him, desire evident on your face.
“You are perfect, hermosa.”
You blushed. “Rafa…”
He groaned. “Fuck. Don’t do that.”
Confusion clouded your expression. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong…
He’d closed his eyes and his face gave away the internal struggle he was experiencing.
Realization suddenly crossed your features and you grinned. You gently raked your nails down his chest as you murmured the nickname again, “Rafa.”
His eyes shot open and he rutted his hips against yours, mouth pressing wet kisses to your heated skin. His teeth nipped at your neck and collarbone, leaving love bites in his wake.
He was taking his time with you. Wanting to explore every part of you, taste every inch of your skin, catalogue every detail in his mind.
You whimpered softly, not used to such attention, nor such deliberate slowness. “Rafael, please.”
He looked up at you with his trademark smirk. “You ever been with a Hispanic man before, Cariño?”
You blushed and shook your head.
His smirk widened. “We like to take our time, make sure our lady is properly loved and appreciated. This is about your enjoyment, (Y/N/N), not mine.”
“I want you to enjoy yourself too…”
He kissed you gently. “You keep making those pretty sounds for me, querida, and I promise you, I’ll enjoy myself.”
You found yourself unable to respond as he continued his slow descent towards your core. Each gentle caress of his lips against your skin seemed to set your nerve endings on fire--the need within you growing exponentially.
You whined prettily, hips shifting upwards, desperately seeking his lips where you needed them most. "Please," you begged.
You didn't know it yet, but Rafael would never deny you--not in the real world, nor the bedroom. The moment he heard your soft voice begging, he glanced up at your face. You already looked so far gone--your hair was a mess, your lips swollen, your cheeks flushed, and your breathing was ragged. He smiled to himself as he lowered his head, giving you no time to adjust as he dove into you with abandon.
You gasped as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. As skilled as the man between your legs was in the courtroom, he was even better suited with his mouth hungrily devouring you.
In the span of mere minutes, he'd turned you into a gasping, moaning mess--every one of your senses overwhelmed with feeling.
"Rafa--I--I'm close," you gasped.
He hummed against you, lips wrapping around your clit to increase his assault. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, holding you in place as he sped up his ministrations.
Your jaw dropped as a flurry of sounds--some of which were intended to be his name--slipped from your lips. Your orgasm sent wave after wave of intense pleasure through your body, but that pleasure soon turned to sensitivity.
"Rafa, too much--" you whispered as you tried to pull away from him.
He laid his arm across your lower belly, effectively holding you in place as his mouth continued to work you. His eyes flicked up to yours to check if you really did want him to stop, but your head was already thrown back, chest rising and falling rapidly as the familiar knot tightened in your stomach.
The moment your cries turned to moans and pleas to continue, Rafael stopped and lifted his head. "Did you want me to stop, querida?"
"No!" you cried loudly, fingers grasping his hair in an attempt to guide him back where you wanted him.
He smirked as he complied with your direction, lips and tongue once again sending you into a spiral of pleasure you'd never experienced before.
As you came down from your second high, Rafael finally slowed his assault and allowed you to pull his head up when it became too much.
He placed soft kisses against your heated skin, gently soothing you as the aftershocks shuddered through your body. His lips traced the curves of your face with gentle affection until your breathing had begun to normalize.
Rafael kissed you deeply, desire evident in the action. In response, your hand slowly descended down his chest and abdomen, until you reached his throbbing cock. You lightly ran your nails across the still clothed member, enticing a groan from the man above you.
You teased him for a few more seconds before sliding your hand beneath his boxer briefs and palming his cock in your warm hand. He groaned loudly--hips rutting against your hand instantly.
"I wanna taste you," you murmured against the shell of his ear.
"You don't have to..." he said softly.
There was something in his voice that caused you to pull away so you could see his face properly. He looked worried and perhaps a little apprehensive.
"But I want to," you reassured him.
"You do?"
You nodded. "It's something I enjoy very much, Rafa, so if you're okay with it, I would really like to suck your cock."
His eyes closed briefly and he moaned softly, forehead dropping against yours. "Por favor," he begged in a broken voice.
You grinned ear to ear. "Stand up."
"Qué?" he asked in confusion.
You nudged him gently and tilted your head towards the edge of the bed. "Stand up, handsome."
He did as you asked and watched in surprise as you lowered yourself to your knees on the floor in front of him. He felt like he needed to remind you again that you didn't need to do this for him, but when he saw the hunger in your eyes, he fell silent.
You slowly dragged his underwear down, freeing his cock from its constraints. You were a little surprised by his size--he was longer than average and quite thick--but surprise quickly turned to hunger.
You looked up at him, a playful smirk dancing on your lips, and all his worries faded away. It was obvious you wanted this...perhaps just as much as he did.
You wasted no time in wrapping your mouth around his cock, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could, eyes never leaving his face.
You gagged slightly as he hit the back of your throat, but you pushed past it, determined to provide him with as much pleasure as you could muster.
As you began to move, his fingers intertwined in your hair and his hips stuttered forwards occasionally. You knew what he needed, but it was clear he wasn't going to do it without some prodding.
You pulled off of him with a *pop* and waited until his heavily lidded eyes met yours. "Rafael, I want you to enjoy this."
"I am, cariño," he said in confusion.
"Not as much as you could be." You licked the tip of his cock for emphasis and his hips jumped slightly. "I want you to use my mouth for your own pleasure, Rafa. That's what it's there for."
He shook his head rapidly. He'd been expressly told not to do that by several women before you.
You rubbed his thighs reassuringly. "I want this, baby. Please," you begged. "Please fuck my mouth."
The moment the words were out of your mouth, you sucked his cock back into the warmth of your lips, hoping he would take you seriously. You pressed yourself forward, pushing past the gag reflex to take his entire member into your mouth.
Without hesitation, you began to guide his hips, urging him to give in and take what he wanted--what he needed.
You flicked your gaze up to meet his and nodded your head as best you could, hands still encouraging him to move. He very tentatively began to move his hips and you smiled, fingers digging into his thighs.
When you didn't pull away, he started to put a little more force into the movements. When you still didn't pull away, he sped up, fingers wrapping in your hair to keep you still.
You let him take control, eyes still trained on his face. He slowly began to thrust in earnest, fucking your mouth like it was his favorite place to be. You watched his head fall back, moans of intense pleasure leaving his lips.
You held onto him and focused on breathing as you let him use you. A few minutes passed before his hips began to stutter and you knew he was close.
You prepared to swallow everything he had to give you, but he surprised you by pulling away, your mouth coming off of him with a *pop*.
His breathing was ragged and his eyes were wild--pupils blocking out the brilliant green. "I need you," he said, voice raw and husky.
You understood his meaning and quickly crawled back onto the bed. He was on top of you almost immediately, lips latching onto your neck, teeth nipping at your flesh.
His cock rubbed against the outside of your pussy and you both groaned.
"Fuck," he mumbled. "Do I need a condom?"
"Pill," you gasped as you shook your head. "Wanna feel you fill me up, Rafa."
He let out a low growl and his eyes turned even more feral. He gave you no warning as he plunged his cock deep inside of you, stretching you in ways you'd never been stretched before.
"Rafael!" you cried out at the sensation.
Normally he would have forced himself to give you time to adjust, but his mind was too far gone. He set a brutal pace almost instantly and you were simply along for the ride.
There were so many new sensations that you were having a hard time staying focused. Everything just felt so incredible.
Your pussy throbbed around him, pulling him in even deeper. "Te sienetes muy bien, querida." [You feel so good, sweetheart.]
You moaned loudly, nails digging into his back as you arched against him.
"Te gusta cuando te hablo español, ¿no?" he growled into your ear. [You like it when I speak Spanish to you, don't you?"]
"Yes!" you gasped.
"Chica sucia," he chuckled darkly. [Dirty girl.]
"Rafa, please--I'm so close."
He groaned. "Quiero que vengas conmigo, cariño," he mumbled. [I want you to cum with me, sweetheart.] "Can you do that for me?" he asked in English.
You nodded your head rapidly.
"Esa es mi buena chica," he praised. [That's my good girl.]
You moaned lowly, preening at his praise. He smiled and picked up his pace, not wanting to stop until he felt you fall apart. "So close," he mumbled.
"Don't--stop!"
He knew you were close--could tell by the way your pussy fluttered around him--so he whispered, "Cum for me, baby."
You cried out as your orgasm hit you with more force than either of the two you'd had earlier. Rafael groaned your name as he spilled his seed within you, filling you up as your walls milked him dry.
You both began to come down from your highs, the intensity of your orgasms taking the wind out of both of you. Rafael pulled out and collapsed beside you, completely spent and satiated.
"That was pretty decent," you said between breaths.
He snapped his head in your direction and started to laugh when he saw the mischief in your eyes.
You grinned and joined in on his laughter, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him.
"Very decent," he muttered against your hair.
You laughed again. "'Fucking incredible' would be a more accurate description."
"I couldn't agree more." He sighed softly. "I don't wanna move."
"Who says we have to?"
"We probably should...we do have work in the morning after all."
Your body tensed slightly and he felt it, realizing how his previous statement may have sounded. "I want you to stay, querida. I'm just saying we should probably get up and shower before we fall asleep."
You relaxed. "You may have to carry me."
He chuckled and dragged himself out of bed, pulling you along with him. He scooped you up despite your protests and carried you to the bathroom, placing you on the counter while he started the shower.
"I was kidding, Rafa!"
He smiled. "If my girl can walk immediately after sex, then I did something wrong. I'm always happy to carry you."
You smiled back at him, realizing he was completely serious. You watched him quietly, completely lost in thought.
"Where's your mind, querida?" he asked softly.
You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. "I'm happy...that's all."
Rafael kissed you gently. "Me too, hermosa. Now come on, let's get you cleaned up."
Once you were both clean and dry, he carried you back to his bed and laid you down gently before crawling into the bed beside you. He tugged you in closely against his chest and you sighed contentedly.
"Go to sleep, cariño. I'll be here in the morning when you wake up."
Somehow he seemed to know exactly what you needed to hear. Knowing he wasn't going anywhere and feeling his strong arms wrapped around you, allowed you to feel a calm peace you'd not felt in years.
Within minutes, you'd drifted off to sleep in his arms. Just before he fell asleep too, Rafael kissed the top of your head and whispered, "Te adoro con locura." [I adore you madly.]
#rafael barba x reader smut#rafael barba x reader#barba x reader#rafael barba smut#law and order svu#law and order svu smut
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HOT TAKE on the episode 6 conflict
I see posts about how Blitz and Fizz making up was too rushed and how Fizz shouldn't have forgiven Blitz because he "made him lose his limbs and burn alive" etc. and. Like, don't get me wrong, valid points, but.
1. It's been 15 years
2. It's been confirmed to have been an accident
3. It was obvious Blitz still feels guilty and super bad about it (those lines from Brandon Rogers were just *chefs kiss*)
Like, I think the main reason why Fizz was upset with Blitz in the first place was because he thought what was done to him was on purpose and maliciously. But after seeing Blitz in distress and actually apologising for it, that was cleared up. Maybe if Fizz's life wasn't good he would hold more resentment but like he said, he's doing pretty well overall and makes the most out of his situation. And he isn't alone, that's very important!! He managed to move past his trauma enough to be able to have a healthy relationship with Ozzie who "understands him". The same cannot be said about Blitz who is pretty much alone in his suffering.
I'm not saying that if someone fucked you over you need to forgive them if the person is super pitiful, but if that's the one thing that keeps you both from moving past the trauma and deciding to close that chapter? Maybe it's for the best. It's been 15 years, yo. And the conflict was based largely on a misunderstanding. Yeah maybe it was underwhelming that the feud that's been presented from the beginning of the series could have been solved by one single conversation, but that's kind of life.
Personally I have a shit ton of conflicts that could be solved if me and the other person just sat down and heard eachother out, but it's just not happening. It's realistic. Just because you technically CAN solve the problem by talking doesnt mean you will actually talk. Both people need to be in the right headspace.
So I think based on all the facts we got it's not surprising Blitz and Fizz made up. This doesn't mean they will be besties or anything, but it's a start. They can let go of the resentment and steess and guilt over the broken relationship and start moving forwards. It was incredibly mature of Fizz, and hopefully it's gonna help Blitz get more in touch with his feelings and maybe get a bit of courage in trying to keep others in his life (*cough cough* Stolas *cough cough*)
I'm prepared to get mixed feedback on this and if you disagree thats fine! Let's have a convo if you're up for it, I don't have that many people in my life who I can discuss HB with :D
#helluva critical#helluva stolas#helluva blitzo#helluva spoilers#helluva fizzarolli#blitzo#stolas x blitz#fizzarozzie#fizzaroli helluva boss#fizzarolli#stolitz#stolas#vivziepop#vivzieverse#helluva boss
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husband material
a/n: I make no apologies, I made fun of Gojo a lot but I can't help making fun of the characters I kin ok...as you can tell I am unwell and clearly in love with one Nanami Kento. Please enjoy this purely self indulgent one shot that is just me ranting about how Nanami is the perfect man. n e ways- cw: some language and it eludes to sexual content, so you know the drill
"If you had to choose any sorcerer, who would it be?"
"Any sorcerer to what?"
"Like to date. If you had to choose," Gojo was leaning over the couch in the Jujutsu High lounge, wearing a smirk like he was confident in what your answer would be, "who would it be? And why is it me?"
You let out a laugh that's more mocking than genuine. "It would definitely not be you."
Gojo's jaw drops, like he can't believe it. For a very long time he's quiet - very unlike him - in utter disbelief. It had been a joke, but he was your best friend. If not him, then who? He needs to know.
Again, he asks. "So...who then?"
"Easy. Nanami."
"Nanami?!"
"Nanami."
"Why?"
"You're telling me you wouldn't date Nanami if given the opportunity?" You put your cellphone, giving up on the game you were playing seeing as Gojo was not going to let this go.
"That's not what I said." Gojo plops himself down at the opposite end of the couch, looking eager and ready for any new gossip he could wring out of you. "But I can't date myself, so therefore I would pick the next best option."
"He's definitely the best option."
"Respectfully disagree."
"That's fine." You shoot back. "Everyone is entitled to their wrong opinions. Especially you."
Gojo is once again silent. Until. "I hate you."
You can't help the chuckle that escapes.
"Why?!"
"Why what?"
"Don't be coy. Why Nanami?"
"I'm sorry," you give him a genuinely confused expression, "have you met the man? He's incredibly good looking, financially stable-"
"I'm also those things."
"Emotionally competent enough to hold a relationship for longer than three weeks-"
"That's...yeah ok, that's-"
"Is the type of man who gets along with both of your parents, so much so that they ask you every week when you're on the phone with them why the two of you aren't married or at the very least engaged yet-"
"This is getting very oddly specific."
"Radiates an aura that subtly screams 'I have a huge dick but I don't brag about it'"
"Clearly you've thought a lot about this."
"Somehow explains things without mansplaining them to you. Like if you were to ask him to explain how the stock market worked he would sit you down and make economics sound like the sexiest thing in the world while still remaining respectful."
"That's not fair. You know I'm bad at economics."
"I'm serious. He's like a total catch. Husband material. Dating isn't enough. If you date that man, it's endgame. He's already picked out the perfect ring and planned the entire honeymoon."
"Perfect is a strong word. Some would say it's too subjective even."
"He's the type of man to slow dance with you at 3 am in the kitchen of your upper class suburban home that he probably paid for in cash, while your two kids sleep soundly in their little bedrooms upstairs all tuckered out from your weekly family outing."
"Again. Very oddly specific."
"Face it, Gojo. Some men are just walking green flags." You stand and pat him on the shoulder, comforting him as he pouts. Clearly this wasn't the conversation he was hoping for. "But I have to get to my next class before my students get started without me, or Maki might accidentally give another kid a concussion. And I don't feel like explaining that to Yaga again."
Gojo waited until you were out of the room to huff in exasperation. "Psh. I'm a green flag."
"Yeah, if you're colorblind."
The sudden voice on the couch at the back of the room makes Gojo startle and jump in his seat.
Nanami lays just out of direct line of sight from the couch Gojo is sitting in, the one you were previously lounging on as well - so much so that Gojo has to lean over to see him lift the small folded towel from over his eyes.
This only sours Gojo's mood even more. "Well, I bet you're just so impressed with yourself right now."
Nanami lets the towel fall back over his eyes. "Don't feel bad Gojo," he can't contain his smirk, "not all of us can be husband material."
#nanami fluff#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk headcanons#nanami kento
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Ok so I have had this idea for a while and it’s like Wilbur and reader are married and they decided they wanted a baby.and like how Wilbur is with you during the pregnancy and after you have had the baby.
a/n: pls, i'm in such a dadbur mood bc of you. i love this concept. i even started rewatching all the wilbur an tallulah clips (edit: i named the kid tallulah bc why not)
warnings: afab reader, mentions of trying to get pregnant - nothing smutty, mentions of infertility,
word count: 1.5k
masterlist
You always knew you both wanted to have kids, you spoke about it many times but it was always limited to the phrase "one day". You and Wilbur were happily married for about 6 months before the final decision was made. The comfort of settling down and feeling established in your late twenties added to the feeling that something was missing. You had a stable income, Wilbur was happy doing music. You loved each other, in fact there was so much love that you felt the need to give it to someone.
Getting pregnant wasn't as easy as you thought. Sure, it had its benefits but for some time it was a struggle. Nevertheless, you were there for each other all the time. It started to become a bit stressful for you. What was wrong? It shouldn't be that hard to do. Maybe you weren't necessarily sad, but you were disappointed or sometimes even angry and started losing hope. Wilbur noticed that your attitude has changed. He knew that as your husband and the dad of your future kids he had to take care of you. He held you every time the test came out negative, he would talk to you - a lot of the time praising you for how strong you were. He didn't want any of you to be alone with their emotions. Like he said "it was teamwork". "Maybe we just have to forget about this, try not to overthink it. Let it be. I feel like it's taking a toll on us. If it happens, it happens, if it doesn't, it doesn't" he said while you were laying in his arms on the couch. "And how do you imagine this?" you say not understanding how you could just "stop thinking about this". "I think we are under too much pressure. Constantly checking, doing tests. Let's stop this. Lets stop all this baby making and obsessing over damn lines on a plastic stick. We stopped making love. That's the key. We started treating it like a task".
It wasn't easy but with time you two stopped thinking so much. The topic came back when you started feeling nauseous. It was unusual for you to vomit and you have even fainted once. Wilbur knew something was different this time and suggested taking a test. Who would have thought that two tiny lines would make two people this happy. Wilbur immediately showered you with kisses, hugging you tightly. He was constantly repeating "We're gonna be parents, I'm gonna be the dad, you're gonna be the mum, we are having a babyyyy. MUAH''. Holding you with one hand on your lower belly Wilbur called his mom not wanting to wait anymore to share the news with her.
The only problem was that he was supposed to leave for tour in a week. He insisted on canceling the shows and staying at home but you disagreed. You would be alright, it was gonna be less than two months, everything was gonna be fine. With a bit of arguing he agreed on leaving. "Please tell me if anything happens, update me all the time. You know, I don't want to miss out on anything and I want you two to be safe and healthy." he said hugging you, his chin resting on your head. "I know, I will. Don't stress too much, please. The tour is gonna be over before you notice". You know your husband had a tendency to panic a bit. You appreciated him being literally overprotective but you never wanted him to feel stressed. He had asked his mom to visit you every week just in case. She was so happy for you two, she knew you were going to be great parents but she also knew you had a lot to learn. She was very helpful - not only did she do what her son asked her to do but also she gave you a lot of support in terms of any questions or fears related with raising a child. However, Wilbur called everyday, even a few times a day. He was constantly asking how you were feeling, if you were alright.
Wilbur told his friends about the pregnancy but he decided not to reveal it on the internet yet. When he got home he didn't leave you alone for even a minute. He never missed a doctor's appointment, he would always get the food that you were craving (even if it meant going to the store at 2 am) and he helped you in the most basic tasks like tying your shoes. He was constantly on a search to make this time easier for you. "Honey, you don't know how strong you are for carrying this baby" he said as he laid on the bed next to you. He rested his head on your belly trying to hear something. You hand went to brush his hair. God, you wished the baby had his hair. "What are they telling us, huh? Have you heard any messages?" you said jokingly. He scrunched his face as if he was really focused "Wait, wait. Oh! I think they are trying to tell us something, captain! They say they would like to join us on board very soon!". Wilbur has developed a habit of keeping his head next to your belly. Having a hunch that the baby can hear him, he would often sing lullabies or slow little songs that he came up with. He knew his singing calms you down as well as your child.
Thankfully, your daughter was born healthy and strong. Wilbur was scared that once you go to labor he will panic, but actually he did a great job at keeping it cool and doing his best. Although, It probably was the adrenaline that helped him. Either way, you were both very happy and tired. You were out like a light while Wilbur was seated in a chair next to your hospital bed, newborn in his arms (he wasn't used to it yet so it felt a bit unnatural) as he was gently singing.
The baby was definitely daddy's girl. You could have sworn he has some sort of talent when it comes to kids. Wilbur woke up to the sound of your baby crying. His tired groan filled the room as soon as he realized your side of the bed was empty. The floor let out a creek as he carried his way through the hallway. As he opened the door he saw you standing in the middle of the room, slowly rocking the baby. You turned around when you heard him “I fed her, I changed her diaper. I don’t know what is wrong” even with dimmed light he could see small tears forming in your eyes “Oh honey, I’m sorry.” he kissed you on your cheek. “You little trouble maker” him taking the baby was like lifting weight off your shoulders. You loved being a first time mother but it was tiring and caused a lot of stress. Sometimes you felt that the baby loved Wilbur more. The tiredness made you more clingy than usual as you held your husband that was trying to make your baby fall asleep. After a while of you three holding each other and gently swaying the cries quieted down. After Wilbur put the baby down he looked at you “Aw, baby, you're about to fall asleep on your feet. Now let's get you to bed”.
When the little one got bigger you started going for walks with her. A bit of sunlight and fresh air never hurt anyone. It was also a great way to use some of her energy. As you were to leave the flat you send a quick text to Wilbur letting him know that you are going out. “Here honey, hold my hand” you said to your daughter as you were approaching a crosswalk “Where’s dad?” “Dad’s at work. Don’t worry, he’s gonna be back for dinner”. You could see that she wasn't very pleased but quickly got distracted by colorful wildflowers that were growing near the sidewalk. As she was picking the flowers you heard a ping “Wanna come to the studio? Boys insist. They haven’t seen Tallulah in a while”. Wilbur’s bandmates were like uncles to your child. They have seen her grow up, they like to play with her and sometimes they babysit her for you and your husband to go on a little date. You didn’t want her to distract them from finishing the album they were working on but they missed her so you gave in. “Sweetie, how about you pick some flowers for your uncles and we go visit them”. As soon as she heard you she had started running around trying to find the best flower for each one of them. On your way to the studio you barely kept up with her. She ran up the door and started knocking but it was still too quiet for them to hear so you gave Wilbur a call. Once he opens the door she quickly hugs his leg and continues to chaotically run up the stairs. Not wanting to wait any longer to meet her uncles she leaves her giggly parents behind.
June 29 2023
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possibly unpopular Pjo Opinions
Also, if you disagree, that's fine. people are allowed to have differing opinions. But, if you decide to be dick about it in the comments, the comment will be deleted. we can disagree but there's no need to be rude about it. However, if you'd like to respectfully and civilly discuss the differences in opinion, I'd be happy to. I always enjoy hearing different opinions. However I will warn you, while I'm not strictly anti-percabeth, there are some anti-percabeth or negative towards percabeth opinions in this post. If you're one of the toxic percabeth stans who hates on anyone who dislikes or says anything negative about the ship, you have been warned, any toxic comments will be deleted. I won't be arguing with you because it would be pointless. You're not going to change my mind and I'm not going to change yours. civil and respectful discussions only
Is it bad that I don't like Bianca Di Angelo. Like, don't get me wrong, I don't hate her, I don't think she's terrible, she's 12, she's a child, but try as I might I just can't understand her choice. I get that she's 12 and left to take care of her brother but they have no one else at that point and the first chance she gets she agrees to leave him. She agrees before they even get to camp, before she's even made sure it's safe and I've said it before I don't think there's a world where Nico stays at Camp Halfblood. I don't think Bianca necessarily dies in every universe. There must be at least some where she actually listens when told not to touch anything or even where she, an untrained, inexperienced 12 year old isn't picked for this quest where they know one of them will die because it's been prophecised, but I do think Nico, at least in every universe where Bianca agrees to join the Hunters, always leaves camp after discovering he's a son of Hades, and then he's really not safe. they're each other's only family and she chooses to leave him. In 2 years he'll be the same age as her, and a year after that he's older. He'll live his entire life while she pops in and out when they can, maybe sees him if he's at camp halfblood at the time. and, to be fair to Bianca, I don't think the Hunters should offer this to 12 year old anyway. but, no, Bianca will either be dead, or 12 forever as he younger brother grows older, as he nearly dies trying to save his friends and help his family. Although I would love to see her and the Hunter's reaction when Nico shows up in the fifth book, same age as Bianca, with 3 gods and, if I'm remembering correctly, an army of skeletons, as she realises her younger is growing up. Honestly I could see them finding a way to send messages and Nico, despite knowing there's no place for him there, going to Camp Halfblood when he knows the hunters will be there so he can see his sister. see, i like the idea of alive Bianca that lives in my head, because i love the angsty idea of her seeing her brother get older and get married and make new friends and meet the half sister and her still being physically 12 but so much older mentally and wondering what could have been if she hadn't agreed to be a Hunter. But canon Bianca? i get that she's young but, maybe it's because I'm the youngest of a family with quite a few cousins that are very close but I can't imagine a world where my older brother or one of my older cousins agrees to just leave me somewhere without first making sure it's safe, even if they were 12. and the fact that they're each other's only family on Earth at that point? and then in book 4, instead of appearing directly ti Nico and telling him not to come to her, she uses Percy as a middle man? Nico is not Percy's responsibility. No, you agreed to join the Hunters, you agreed to go on this quest when you were untrained and inexperienced (because somehow there was no one more qualified or better suited after the other Hunter couldn't go).
Honestly, maybe my problem is more with the Hunters than Bianca herself now that I'm thinking about it. The way they act like they're better than everyone's else but get upset when they retaliate. The way they hate all men. There's just something about their attitude in the third books I hate. Maybe it's because it's from Percy's POV but, I don't know, they just rub me the wrong way. Maybe it's because they're supposed to be feminists but they're written by a man who thinks the extent of feminism is "we as women hate all men and think we're better than them" which, while is admittedly how some women are, is not supposed to be the point of feminism. I was taught feminism was equality between men and women, not one being better than the other, not hating on one while hating one the other, both men and women being equal. Is this where I realise that my problems actually boil down to problems with Rick Riordan writing women and girls? Zoe's dislike does make some sense and I do like her character but it feels like the other Hunters are, like, radical feminists who believe men and women should be separate?
Also while I'm here, might as well add, as someone who read the first five books but does plan to read the others, Percabeth means literally nothing to me. I don't hate them but I don't ship them either. They're fine as friends but as a couple? I'm sure there are much more interesting ships for both of them. The first five books is more or less them not being together but getting jealous of anyone of the opposite who talks to them, (though Percy's is also annoyance because, you know, Luke tried to kill him and Annabeth still has hope she can get through to him even though he's betrayed them. Percy's fatal flaw is loyalty, he doesn't take betrayal well, we saw how he reacted to Nico's perceived betrayal), and (Usually Annabeth but Percy sometimes) picking arguments. Ah, yes, the old married couple. Now, the moments where they actually bond outside of quests and camp halfblood? Not many of them. They have a couple of cute moments but, as a couple, I don't really care for it. I don't mind them as friends but, as more than that, not really. Annabeth chose Percy over Luke? oh great, and so the rest of camp Halfblood, the others who stay there all year? They mean nothing? If it was't for Percy, she would've just left them? Interesting. Percy gave up immortality for Annabeth? Not really, sure, she may have been part of it, but the main part was making sure children of all Greek gods had somewhere safe to go and would be claimed. also, why would a depressed, possibly suicidal teen want to be immortal? want to be with the gods who have just used him and his friends and half of whom hate him? Also, next to Annabeth Percy is always made out to be the dumb one but he's not really. Sure Annabeth is better at planning but Percy is better at improvising when things go wrong. See: him tricking Crusty. Also in that first book Annabeth also makes some not so smart choices. See: going to the Arch to sightsee in the middle of the quest. Percy is also the one who figures out The Lotus Hotel situation, not Annabeth. They have different types of intelligence but Percy is not dumb.
#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson#percabeth#anti percabeth#kinda but not really#nico di angelo#bianca di angelo#hunters of artemis#anti hunters of artemis#kinda not really#possibly Rick Riordan critical? like not really but kinda maybe#annabeth chase#no hate towards annabeth chase#I've read the percy jackson and the olympians#No mention of heroes of olympus#i haven't read that so know nothing that happens
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“But Mr Kamisato…” - Ayato x GN!Reader (Modern AU)
A/N - Just a random ass thought I had with a Modern AU Ayato. According to my friend it’s a brain rot?? In any case have random scenarios I have about this AU before I go to bed >:D
Imagine working at a restaurant. Nothing fancy, just your regular restaurant with your usual annoying kids in the corner and Karen in another. Yet for some reason, one of your regulars is Mr Kamisato himself, quite the popular and rich individual that could easily eat at any fancy restaurant he wants yet he chooses the one YOU work at, simply because he seems to have fallen for the lil waiter there :>
Ayato can and will plop himself in your section even if the table is dirty, he just wants to see your pretty lil face as fast as he can.
Will always tip you, and by quite a bit. He advises your boss/manager that whatever money he tips is ONLY for you. And should not be split between your co-workers, and who are they to disagree?
Despite him coming there so often, that he should know what every item on the menu is. He will always point to one menu item and ask about it or even asks for your recommendations even if you always say the same things. He just wants to hear your voice.
When he first brought his sister and Thoma over, they stared at you intently. You tried introducing yourself and all they could say was a strained out
"We know…"
Seems like someone always talks about you at home.
He refuses to get served by anyone else but you. If someone else is his waiter, he’ll request for you, and if you’re not working that day? He’ll politely excuse himself and leave.
If we pretend he’s a CEO for a famous and successful company, imagine all the stares he’d get as he happily munched on his mediocre fish and chips.
Speaking of all the stares he gets, he doesn’t pay any attention to them. His eyes are only on you. And you alone.
Bro goes into the restaurant so many times (or as many times as his work allows it) that there’s just a designated table for him and co-workers and your manager just know to call for you when he arrives, knowing he won’t take anyone else.
Left his number on a napkin. Whether you decide to text him is up to you. If you don’t he understands, but if you do choose to text him he’ll be over joyed. Expect sweet and cute “Good Mornings” and “Good Nights” even if you two aren’t dating.
He tries to make you call him Ayato and not to be formal with him. But it’s just a habit! Plus it’s respectful, how can he expect you to casually call him by his given name so casually??
Y/N: Mr Kamisato? You're here again?
Ayato: Hm? Just Ayato is fine
Y/N: But Mr Kami-
Ayato: No
Ayaka and Thoma are very much done with him and his constant rambles about you. Don’t get them wrong, they’re happy he found someone he really likes…it’s just…
Ayato: And then they gave me my order with a smile :D
Thoma: My lord…that's their job
Ayaka: So how much did you tip them?
Ayato: €500
Ayaka: ON A €12 MEAL??
================
IWHEJSUD I’m still in love with this AU. Maybe it’s partially because I’m a big Ayato simp…I didn’t write a meeting scenario, y’all can let your imaginations run wild with that 👀
If youse like this I’m more then happy to write more :D
#genshin impact x you#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshinimpact x reader#genshinimpact x you#genshin#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshinimpact#Kamisato Ayato#Kamisato Ayato x reader#Kamisato Ayato x you#Ayato x you#Ayato x reader#Kamisato Ayaka#Thoma#genshin imagines
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stray kids : the nickname they would call you !
content. stray kids ot8, headcanons, established relationship, gn!reader, skz head over heels in love — fluff.
warning. none
wordcount. 850+
a/n. this is only a headcanon, feel free to disagree with my opinion
bang chan ( 방찬 ) ; darling
though shy at first, chan decided pretty quickly on the nickname he would call you. it rolled off his tongue easily and whenever he heard the word being pronounced or read it, you were the only person he could picture. if he had to be cheesy and say what he held to be the truth, he would say that the nickname had been made for you and no one else. he uses it a lot, way too much if you have to be honest but nothing beats the curl of his lips whenever chan utters his favorite nickname.
"sorry darling, i won't be home before 3 in the morning again"
lee know ( 리노 ) ; honey
part of honeyracha it is no surprise that i would pick this one for him. honestly, it had started as part of a joke. you had expressed faux jealousy over the fact that he called both jisung and hyunjin 'honey'. as minho's actual significant other, you claimed to deserve the nickname more than his friends did. true to himself, your boyfriend had decided to play into that little act of yours, and over time, the nickname stuck.
"honey? since you're going to the grocery store, can you get a few cups of pudding for me?"
changbin ( 창빈 ) ; beloved
changbin likes to be over the top, he likes to go all out; especially for you. so, when he asked whether you were comfortable with being called nicknames, you knew he was going to pick something a little unusual. when he introduced the idea of calling you his beloved, you could not help but giggle a little bit. though it was not the one you expected then, it was so him, so very seo changbin that you were surprised you did not figure it out. it was more than okay, obviously.
"you're fine my beloved, cry it out if you need to."
hyunjin ( 현진 ) ; love
a simple man of simple words. hyunjin loves you, therefore you are his love. he does not call you it that often, reserving the nickname for times he feels especially soft and enamored with every little thing that makes you you, his love. 'love' just sounds right to him, he could not explain it in better words. to hyunjin, calling you 'my love' is beyond natural, it is like that is what you always have been to him: love.
"what's wrong, love? do you want to talk about it?"
han ( 한 ) ; babe
you see, jisung tends to find nicknames a little cheesy. usually, he would stick to your preferred name, which he absolutely loves and finds to suit you the best out of every word he could ever come up with. yet, without even realizing it, the word 'babe' escapes his lips from time to time. when he is in a rush for example, he cannot help but choose to call you that term of endearment. it is like it is out of his control, whether he likes it or not, you are his babe and that is all there is to it.
"uh babe, have you seen my keys?!"
felix ( 필릭스 ) ; angel
though slightly unusual, felix feels that 'angel' is what suits you the most. you have lost count of how many times he has said that you are like an angel who fell down from heaven for him. so, it came as no surprise when he ended up using it to refer to you instead of your name. honestly, it makes you feel a little shy, especially when he absentmindedly says it in public. but, each and every single time, it makes you feel giddy inside so, who cares?
"angel, i'm so happy you're here."
seungmin ( 승민 ) ; dear
even if he tries to hide it, seungmin is a sucker for cute nicknames. he wanted to pick the one he would call you carefully, which is why it took him a while before he found the perfect one. not only that, but seungmin is of reserved nature, pretty shy when it comes to displaying his love so boldly. so, the first time 'dear' escaped his lips, a pinkish blush crept up his cheeks. he tried really hard to hide his nervousness so you did not say much about it. 'dear' was more than fine to you; especially if it meant you would get to see him like this everytime he called you that.
"how was your day, dear?"
i.n ( 아이엔 ) ; baby
at first, he was petrified at the idea of calling you anything but your name. what if he picked something you particularly disliked? what if you found him corny or absolutely hated the thought of him using terms of endearment? so, naturally, he asked you whether it was okay for him to use them or not. of course it was. then, he tried out a few nicknames, the safest ones he could think of; yet, none of them ever sounded right to him and neither did they to you. only one seem to satisfy him: 'baby'. unoriginal you would think, and you would not be wrong, but uttered by jeongin, it was the most perfect nickname you could have ever imagined. and, it being chosen for you made it even more meaningful.
"baby, i'm home!"
taglist. @zoe8stay @starlostseungmin @starzzns @dumbfound-princess — let me know if you would like to be added / removed.
#🐈⬛ sol writes#stray kids#ficscafe#straykidsland#stray kids imagines#stray kids headcanons#stray kids fluff#stray kids x reader#skz#skz imagines#skz headcanons#skz fluff#stray kids bang chan#stray kids lee know#stray kids changbin#stray kids hyunjin#stray kids han#stray kids felix#stray kids seungmin#stray kids i.n#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#han x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#i.n x reader#han jisung#yang jeongin#bang chan
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SWEET SERIAL KILLER.
❥⠀masterlist. ⠀:⠀ ( scream masterlist. )
synopsis: what it would be like to date billy loomis.
warnings: gaslighting. mentions of murder. fluff. mild angst.
pairings: billy loomis⠀𝒙⠀gender neutral!reader.
josie’s note .⁺ ˖ ⌒ this is a repost from my old account, but this time i actually fixed my grammar mistakes. your media consumption is your own responsibility, read the warnings and enjoy!— reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated !! ♡
⠀
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Billy. Loomis. A relationship with him is not for the faint-of-heart, let’s be honest.
At first, he’d be your average-high-school boyfriend. He would drive you around, hang out in your room, having movie nights, that typical stuff. You’d think every was fine, until eventually his true colors start to seep through the cracks.
“Oh shit!” you jump, nearly spilling the popcorn all over the floor, as one of the camp counselors on TV gets brutally gutted.
Even though you weren’t the biggest horror fan, you tried to tough it out for Billy. You side glance over to the boy laying next to you, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he intensely stares at movie. It’s hard to miss the excited glint in his eye each time jason goes for the kill.
⠀
His love language is words of affirmation. Since his mom abandoned him, it left him with a lot of insecurities, so words of encouragement and telling him you love him, and you won't leave him eases his anxiety.
He’s much more introverted in comparison to his friends (friends being literally just stu 💀), so he tends to observe other people a lot. You catch him just staring at you for long periods of time, while at first you find it cute, at times it gets a little bit.. unnerving.
You two would sit on the window sill of your room, and talk for hours. Sometimes he’ll bring cigarettes— he doesn’t smoke often, but sometimes he does it to take the edge off.
He’s not big on PDA, so the most he’ll do in public is let you sit in between his legs if you’re at a party or something, or he’ll wrap an arm around your shoulders.
But in private… oh-boy.
He’s much more touchy-feely in private. He feels more comfortable now that it’s just the two of you, rather than having loads of people seeing you guys.
He likes to be little spoon, don’t even fight me on this.
Even though it’s hella greasy, he loves when you play with his hair. twirling it between your fingers, braiding it, or scratching his head is his kink. It makes him feel so relaxed.
He’d vent to you about his mom. You're his only safe space where can put his guard down (or at least some of it). You’d let him cry in your lap, and soothe him by running your nails down his back, or whispering comforting words.
He’s got some anger issues, because deep down he’s a very passionate person. So he tends to yell, and snap a lot.
He would begin to feel a little bad when he sees how you flinch at his outbursts. He’d mumble a quick sorry, and gradually calm down, or just leave you alone for a while.
Random head-canon, but I feel like Billy is one of those people who literally drives in silence. I'm sorry, I just can’t picture him listening to any music. But, when you are with him, he’ll let you play whatever you want.
His favourite holiday is secretly christmas. It reminds him of a time when him and his family were happy— it has a bittersweet sentiment. But he’s not gonna do anything big, like costumes or flashing decorations. You two would spend it together inside, watching christmas horror movies and enjoying each other’s company.
Now, getting into the less fun side of dating Billy.
Like I said before, he has a bit of temper. He’s very passionate about what he thinks, and he doesn’t have a healthy way of expressing that.
If you two disagreed about something, he would definitely give you the silent treatment. Or even worse, probably gaslight you into thinking you were in the wrong, and that you’re the one with issues.
“See! This is why I can’t talk to you about anything, [y/n]. You’re so goddamn sensitive over everything.”
It would get ten times worse after he gets arrested when Sidney calls the police on him. You’d obviously want to stay away from him, and so you do (unofficially breaking up).
You go a few weeks without talking or seeing him, but you can’t seem to shake off the feeling that someone’s watching you.
When Billy loves, he loves hard. He'd let you go, pretending that you're broken up, and let you blow off some steam. But, trust that a certain masked figure will be visiting you soon.
#☆. scream.#billy loomis x reader#billy loomis imagine#ghostface imagine#ghostface x reader#scream imagine#scream x reader#scream 1996#skeet ulrich
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Golden Era w/ Prompt 14
Now in their Fifth Year at Hogwarts, Mattheo and the Reader are in a happy relationship. Of course, with Professor Umbridge as the new Headmistress, they can't show it. They resort to longing glances in the halls and passing notes in their classes. They can get away with it in most other classes, but Umbridge still teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts...
TW: mentions of blood, open wounds, torture.
"Hold my hand. You're going to be fine"
Mattheo and Y/N had more or less mastered the art of discretion. They had to if there was any hope for their relationship with Dolores Umbridge around. She'd gone on a power trip, her Educational Decrees posted all around Hogwarts.
Number 31 said that boys and girls could not be within 8 inches of each other. Y/N had found that decree to be particularly ridiculous, especially when considering Quidditch practices and games, the teams being comprised of both girls and boys. Speaking of Quidditch, they also weren't allowed to fly unless at an official, authorized practice.
There were ways around the rules. Mattheo had managed to successfully sneak Y/N into their common room in the dungeons on several occasions, and nobody in Slytherin or Gryffindor dared to report them. Especially not since Draco was a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, and one of their best friends. He'd threatened members of their own house with telling Umbridge about their rulebreaking if they said anything about Mattheo and Y/N (on several occasions).
Sneaking into an out of the common room was risky with Filch and Mrs. Norris prowling the halls, so those visits were few and far between. Since many of the other professors disagreed with Professor Umbridge's crazy decrees, they let a lot slide in their classes. This included note passing, which was Mattheo's favorite form of discreet flirting.
"The whole school should be bowing before your beauty", "Your smile tears me apart in all the best ways", and "Each wait between visits pulls apart at my soul, and your kiss is the only thing that can put it back together" were some of the notes Y/N would open and furiously blush about, even hours after receiving them. Professor McGonagall, who disliked Umbridge more than anyone else, was the most lenient with note passing.
Mattheo got his high from breaking the rules in Umbridge's class. He'd turn from his seat in front of her and give her a peck on the lips when Umbridge had her back turned, earning claps on the back from Blaize every time he got away with it. He'd pass back the sweetest notes, and usually Y/N could read it quickly enough and then hide it under her papers and continue to pretend taking notes while actually writing her response.
Usually.
"I'd love you from light-years away, 8 inches is nothing."
Her wide grin quickly turned to a mask of neutrality as Umbridge called her name. "Miss L/N, while I'd be thrilled if you were to prove me wrong, I'm sure you don't find the Theory of Magic so riveting as to grin like a baboon receiving a banana. Show me what you have."
Y/N picked up the note, knowing well what was about to happen, and held the note out to Umbridge. The moment the borish woman had touched the paper, however, it folded itself into a bird, flitted just above reach, and burst into flames. The ashes fell back onto the table like snow, a red rose resting on top of what once was a love note.
"I'm going to ask you once. Who handed you that note?" Umbridge smiled but it looked more like a grimace. She leaned in and said quietly, "Tell me who it was and your punishment won't be as severe." Y/N locked eyes with Mattheo just briefly enough that Umbridge didn't notice, looked back at her and simply shook her head. Umbridge stood up and brushed some non-existent dust from her dress. "Very well then. Detention! My office at 5 o'clock," she leaned in again to finish her sentence with a wicked grin, "sharp."
"I'm so sorry, love. I didn't think she'd have seen it." Mattheo was groveling. He felt absolutely horrible, and Y/N he did, but it was her own fault for not putting the note down sooner. She'd reminded him of that over and over again, but still, he'd apologized relentlessly. She'd just sighed and wolfed down some ham and a roll before heading to Umbridge's office to serve her time.
Umbridge opened the door just as she was about to knock. "Ah, punctuality. We may just be out of here before midnight. Come in. Sit."
Y/N glanced around the room. The walls were bright pink and there were ceramic plates with cats on them, prowling about, not unlike the moving portraits throughout the halls of Hogwarts. Everything in the room was very... pink. Y/N supposed to woman who lived there was, too. She noticed some parchment and a quill at a small desk in the center of the room. She also noticed that there was no ink pot. She took her seat, and Umbridge sat at the bigger desk in the corner of the room.
"You'll write 'I will not be insubordinate' until I tell you that you may stop." Y/N was confused. "Professor, I don't have any ink." The woman chuckled and it sent a chill down her spine. "You won't need any. Begin."
Y/N picked up the quill and started to write on the paper, instantly met with searing pain. She looked at her hand and gasped. There were deep cuts in her own messy scrawl, reading exactly what she'd written on the paper. They healed over before her eyes, and she glanced at the paper.
"Is this-"
"Your blood? That it is. Neat little thing, isn't it?" Umbridge just smiled and then turned back to her paperwork.
Y/N knew things would only get worse for her if she didn't do as she was told, so she picked up the quill and continued to write, grimacing with pain each time the skin on her hand healed over.
After a few hours, the pen couldn't do much to heal her hand. She was smearing her own blood on her hand before continuing to write. She was nearly numb to the pain now, tears in her eyes as Umbridge asked her a question.
"Do you have something to say?"
Y/N was unblinking as a tear slipped down her cheek. "I will not be insubordinate."
"Good girl. I'll write you a note in case one of our wonderful prefects stops you so that you don't end up right back here," she giggles and Y/N shakes violently. "Go directly to your dormitory, do not make any unauthorized stops along the way, unless you intend to use the restroom. Have a good night, and I'll see you in class tomorrow, Miss L/N."
Y/N couldn't find it in herself to go to the restroom, though. She walked straight up to Gryffindor Tower, Godric's painting swinging open for her, with almost an apologetic look. It was like the founder's portrait was saying "I'm sorry for what our institution has turned into." Y/N sees Hermione, Ron and Harry chatting on the couches in the center of the common room. Hermione glances over and immediately stands as she lets out a sob.
"Y/N! You've been in Umbridge's office for hours. She must have been really furious after... your hand!" She scurries over as Y/N looks down and sees the blood still dripping from her hand. "She made you use the quill, didn't she?" Harry doesn't seem shocked at all. She can't seem to make the words come out, so she just nods. "Madam Pomfrey loaned me a roll of tape and some gauze, just in case someone else from our house has to put up with Umbridge's torture. Hermione, do you want to clean her hand while I grab that stuff from my dorm?"
Hermione nods and grabs one of the throw blankets from the couch, whispering Aguamenti and wiping her hand with the wet cloth. Harry is back with the tape and gauze just as Hermione is dabbing her hand to dry it, grimacing each time Y/N hisses in pain. He covers it tightly enough that the bleeding would stop within the next few minutes, but not tight enough to cut off circulation.
"Who passed you the note, Y/N? It was Mattheo, right?" Hermione elbowed Ron. "Ow! What? I was just asking. Quick thinking with the fire." Y/N shook her head. "That wasn't me. We charm the paper we use to pass our notes so that they aren't there in case we're caught. We've never been caught, so I didn't know his would do that. The ink just vanishes from mine when someone other than him and I touches the paper."
Hermione nods, seemingly impressed. "It's very late, I think we should all get some rest. Won't be learning properly if we're all exhausted." She heads up the stairs to her dorm, and Ron and Harry exchange a look before standing, stretching, and heading up the stairs to their own. Y/N just sits on the couch for a while, tracing the words 'I will not be insubordinate' over her bandages.
She doesn't say anything to anyone at breakfast, and is silent in her other classes. Mattheo doesn't try to hand her any notes, but he does cast worried glances and try to make eye contact, but Y/N can't look at him. She can't look at anyone. She's afraid that if she does, Umbridge will accuse her of some other act of insubordination and she'll end up right back in the disgustingly pink office.
She's a model student throughout the rest of the day, hurrying from the room after her last class of the day, Potions. A hand covers her mouth and pulls her through the portrait doorway of the Slytherin common room. She immediately panics, dropping her books and turns to try to leave without them so that she isn't caught somewhere she isn't supposed to be, but a pair of strong arms wrap around her, making hushing noises that are meant to calm her as she sobs.
When she finally calms down enough to stop fighting, Mattheo turns her to face him. He wipes a tear from her cheek, and she looks down. "Oh, baby" he says quietly, heartbreak clear in his tone. He brushes some hair from her face. She starts crying, sobs wracking her body, and he pulls her into his arms. He has one hand at the nape of her neck, the other around her upper back, shushing her once again. When she's calm, he uses his hand to push her chin up. "Look at me."
Y/N forces herself to meet his gaze. Her lip quivers and she sees sorrow and empathy in his deep, brown eyes. He doesn't have to utter a single word for her to know what he's trying to say. He grabs her hand, thankfully the one that isn't wrapped, and walks her to one of the sofas in the middle of the room. He sits down, hand on her hips to hold her close to him, just looking up at her.
Y/N starts to pick at the bandages on her hand, the nervousness from before creeping up into her again. She looks towards the door, expecting Filch to suddenly burst into the room and drag her by her hair all the way up to Umbridge's office. Mattheo pulls her out of her thoughts, gingerly grabbing her wrist to exam the bandages. He slowly and carefully peels them back to look at the damage.
She sees his jaw clench and unclench and then clench again, and there's a dangerous look in his eyes. He takes a deep breath, gently covering the cuts that are sure to scar, and kisses the rebandaged hand. "I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry."
Y/N is violently shaking again as she sobs, and he grabs her uninjured hand. "Hold my hand. You're going to be fine. I'm here. I'm sorry. I love you so much."
He stands, crossing the room to grab something resting on the mantle. He turns, a red rose in his hand. He hands it to her, and as she takes it, he presses a kiss to her forehead. He holds her close as she twirls the rose between her fingers. "That bitch will pay. Someday, she'll pay." It's a promise that he makes to her, and to himself. "I'm sorry. I love you."
#mattheo riddle#draco malfoy#blaize zabini#theodore nott#enzo berkshire#slytherin#slytherin boys#x reader#reader insert#harry potter#hermione granger#ron weasley#golden era
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Top 5 Best & Worst Characters in Hellaverse
So, for the most part, Hellaverse has pretty meh to bad characters. Buuuuut, there are a few decent/good ones, so, just for fun, let's go over the top 5 best AND worst characters in Hellaverse (in my opinion).
5. (Worst) Stella
So Stella. Stella, Stella, Stella...you had so much potential to be interesting...but you just...aren't. Just for the record I don't think making Stella abusive is a retcon since it doesn't contradict any of her past behavior in season 1 minus like...one background painting.
That's not really my problem with Stella being abusive. My problem is that it makes her boring and the show does that as a way to woobify Stolas. Really not much to say, she's just...boring.
5. (Best) Octavia
It's pretty funny how Octavia is pretty much the most beloved character in the critical community. She's both decently likable and is a bit interesting when you look at her, as she's a girl who was negatively affected by her fathers' actions and is dealing with the negative changes that have happened to her due to her parents always arguing...
...also her father is Stolas so she is therefore the most sympathetic character by default. Really, there aren't that many good characters in either Hazbin or Helluva, and Octavia isn't an amazing character, she only appears in like, two episodes, but she's still fine by herself and is one of Viv's better characters.
4. (Worst) Charlie
I already made a full post about the issues with my problems with Charlie as a character so I won't once again go very deeply here. You're probably wondering why Charlie is even here to begin with since I stated that I don't exactly hate her.
...well, just because I don't hate a character doesn't really mean I like that character. A majority of Hazbin's characters have similar problems of not being that developed at all and the development they do have often feels rushed. The reason why I put Charlie as the 4th worst character in Hellaverse is because, well, out of every character in Hazbin's main cast...Charlie is just kind of the one with the biggest issues.
Again, I already talked about my issues with Charlie in my post about her but just to recap; Charlie suffers from being heavily underdeveloped, she isn't a very compelling protagonist and has 0 growth throughout the show. She learns absolutely nothing. Her mentality is never once challenged by the narrative and she is always portrayed as right and anyone who disagrees with her is automatically wrong, and she also feels heavily overshadowed by the rest of the cast despite being the main character.
Charlie is also not the best person at times like some people have pointed out (she KNOWS THAT ANGEL IS BEING ABUSED and she chooses not to do anything about it. Wow, what a great friend), and overall she kinda sucks as a protagonist.
4. (Best) Lucifer
I've seen Lucifer gain a lot of flak from people with them calling him a bad person and it's not entirely unjustified. I can definitely understand why it may be hard to sympathize with the guy who literally greenlit annual genocides of his own people because he thought that they deserved death.
Not to mention him calling Charlie a "failure" in the pilot which is just...never addressed here. Also it's fairly weird that despite Lucifer being the sin of pride...he isn't really prideful of anything...? So ya, there a few issues with Lucifer as a character.
In spite of that though, I don't think that Lucifer is a particularly bad character. If anything, he's actually one of the more well-developed of the main cast and he has an arc that's decently compelling...?
He initially started out as a dreamer, someone with many creative and imaginative ideas for Heaven, but his ideas were always rejected and he was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven.
After he was cast down to Hell as punishment for accidentally letting evil seep into the world, he lost his will to dream and fell into depression, having a heavily cynical view of Heaven and Hell due to his past experiences. He closes himself off and doesn't stay in contact with his loved ones, mainly his daughter due to his depression. He tries convincing Charlie into his cynical views because he doesn't want his own daughter to face the same crushing rejection he faced.
However, he reconnects with his daughter and brings back a spark in him that was lost long ago, and he promises to support Charlie and her dreams, despite his depression not immediately disappearing.
Admittedly that part is pretty rushed, like Charlie just says "but dad...mah people!!!!" and he's just like "ok". Again, it's not perfect and has some small issues, but compared to most of Hazbin and Helluva's other characters, Lucifer's arc is far more well-developed and is interesting in it's own right. If anything, Lucifer thinking that his people deserve death simply shows his cynical mindset that he's had for years, and Charlie's able to bring back that dreamer that was crushed long ago.
So ya. Lucifer is not amazing, but I like him. He's neat.
3. (Worst) Chaz
Chaz sucks. Chaz is a character that only exists just to make a bunch of unfunny sex jokes and nothing else. He is completely one-dimensional and is nothing more than a walking sex joke. And his "jokes" aren't even remotely funny.
I really don't have much to even say about Chaz. He's just THAT one-note.
3. (Best) Velvvette
I've talked about my thoughts on Velvvette before so I won't go too in depth here again. Buuut needless to say I think she's probably my favorite character in hellaverse. She's one of the few antagonists Viv's made that's actually entertaining and fun to watch, with a well-developed and charismatic personality that's not just "asshole who swears a lot". She isn't the best character in hellaverse though, but she has far more depth as a character compared to most of the other antagonists.
2. (Worst) Adam
I've spoken about my thoughts on Adam before multiple times so at this point I don't know if I have anything left to say about him. Adam is a boring, one-dimensional character with very little depth or personality as a character. He only exists just to be a pure straw character so he can be proven wrong by Charlie.
He can't have any real depth as a character because he only exists just to be torn down by the story. Again, already talked about that in a previous post so I won't go too in-depth here, but needless to say...ya, Adam still sucks.
2. (Best) Alastor
Like Lucifer, I've seen Alastor gain a heavy amount of criticism but personally, like Lucifer, I think Alastor is one of the better characters in the main cast. The has a sense of mystery and intrigue to him that makes him pretty interesting as a character. You're left wondering what his whole deal is & what he's planning.
That combined with Alastor's charisma makes him an entertaining antagonist for the show. He's one of the few characters that I'm interested in to see what they do with in the next season. So ya, I like Alastor...
Now time to get to a character that makes me want to punch myself in the face.
1. (Worst) Stolas
.....Honeslty what can even be said about Stolas that hasn't already been said? I've made so many posts complaining about this stupid owl and you already know my opinion of him at this point. If you really want to know every single critique of Stolas I have, read every post I've made that's tagged "anti stolas". But...I'll just say this.
Stolas could have been a good character. Hell, he could have been the show's BEST character. He had all the potential to be super interesting and compelling character with a great arc...but instead, Viv decided to completely retcon everything season 1 established in order to try and make Stolas an UwU soft boy the show REALLY wants us to sympathize for, in spite of Stolas being a bad person.
I'm sorry if I can't sympathize with the guy who SA's an lower class imp for his own pleasure and frequently neglects his own daughter and pays more attention to st. imp. And, as an artificial way to make Stolas sympathetic, the narrative has to wipe away any actual flaws he has and demonize any character that even remotely gets upset at his actions (which I talk about here), because god forbid we hold Stolas accountable for ANYTHING right? We have to coddle and absolve him of ALL his mistakes despite his flaws being what made him interesting in the first place.
Stolas NEVER grows or develops as a character because of this and so he has basically no character arc. Not only is he a poorly written mess of a character...he's also just BORING now. There's nothing interesting about him anymore, he's just an UwU sad sack. He had so much potential to be interesting but that potential was completely wasted in favor of this bullshit.
And THAT's what makes Stolas SO FRUSTRATING. Really, he pretty much represents HB, and, to an extent, all of Hellaverse as a whole; it started out good with a lot of interesting ideas and potential but through bad writing, all of that potential got squandered and now we're just left with a completely disappointing mess.
Stolas is the worst character in the show because he's the only one who legitimately FRUSTERATES me. He's my least favorite character in all of fiction and a complete mess.
1. (Best) Sera
I already talked about Sera before in a previous post so I won’t go too in depth here, but Sera is one of hellaverse’ better antagonists for having more depth and nuance as a character. She’s the head seraphim of Heaven and greenlit exterminations in order to protect Heaven….and Emily.
In spite of that though, she clearly doesn’t want to do this and is only doing it because she wanted to try and protect her people, and Emily, who she clearly cares deeply for as her older sister. She’s a lot more compelling as a character that most of hellaverse’ antagonists, not being good or evil but rather morally grey, having nuances to her as a character.
To me, Sera is the best character in all of Hellaverse because she's the one with the most nuance and depth compared to 90% of Viv's other characters, especially her antagonists. She actually has REAL DEPTH and complexities to her that make her a lot more interesting compared to most of Viv's characters. Hell, most of the characters in the best list are put there BECAUSE they are just more developed than most of the other characters (which just shows how bad Viv is at character writing)
Like Alastor, she's one of the few characters that I am interested in seeing what they do next with season 2, as she is likely going to get a redemption there. Well just have to see. But for now, Sera is the best character in all of Hellaverse.
So...ya...that was my top 5 best and worst characters in Hellaverse...
....bye.
#vivziepop critical#hazbin hotel critical#helluva boss critical#helluva boss criticism#vivziepop criticism#hazbin hotel criticism#anti stolas#spindlehorse critical#spindlehorse criticism
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An Outdoor Argument
AKA: The Girls Are Fighting
"Barbatos called. He wanted to let you know that he was on his way over here. Apparently he's set up a television interview for you tomorrow morning."
"When is he due to arrive?" I ask.
"A couple hours. I'll get his room set up in the meantime."
"That can wait. We need to talk." Lucifer gives me a weird look.
"Is that really necessary?" I nod, and he begrudgingly sits in the patio chair beside me.
"If it's about the way my brothers behaved this afternoon--"
"It's not that." I sigh. "I know you're upset with me."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Classic move from Lucifer: deny, deny, deny.
"Lucifer, we both know that isn't true." I lean forward in my seat. "I just want you to be honest with me. It's all I've ever asked from you." Jaw clench.
"I am not one to tell you what you can or cannot do, but I think you're allowing yourself to become way too distracted. You're the future Demon King, and yet you can't even get through a day's work without feeling the need to jump out a fucking window."
I will admit, that wasn't one of my finest moments, but I couldn't very well waltz out of my office and risk getting caught. I have Barbatos keep a close eye on me for a reason; otherwise, nothing would ever get done. Completing paperwork has always been a drag for me. I can never focus long enough. My mind wanders too much.
Lucifer, on the other hand, seems to relish in it. He'd be content being locked in his office with a few bottles of Demonus and cursed records playing in the background. Doing paperwork soothes his mind from the constant screaming that occurs inside. That's why I give him as much of it as I am allowed to.
But that's beside the point.
"At the end of the day, I'm still a demon. I can only resist temptation for so long before I start to feel twitchy. You can relate to that, can't you?" Eye twitch.
"I just think you should be acting with a bit more decorum, that's all."
I can't stop the laugh that escapes out of my mouth, nor can Lucifer help his eyes narrowing in frustration.
"This isn't funny, Diavolo."
"Oh, I disagree. It seems as though you expect me to believe that you and your brothers have never been distracted and failed to complete your duties as a result."
"I know that my brothers are not the best at finishing assignments. No matter how hard I try, I can never seem to get them to behave--"
"And what about you? I can recall a couple of times that you've turned in something late because you were preoccupied with other things."
"At least I came back to it when I was done."
"And I will do the same when I return." Crossed arms. "How does my desire to spend time with MC differ from you and your brothers?"
No response.
I sense someone hiding in the shadows. Interesting timing on their part, seeing as this conversation pertains to them.
"You know, I think that you're jealous. You don't like that MC and I have grown close. It bothers you."
"You're free to do what you want. It's not like I can stop you." A dismissive tone. He's trying to keep his composure.
"You're one of my closest friends, Lucifer. I hate seeing you like this."
"Don't." He's getting close.
"Just tell me what's wrong. I want to help you--"
"Will you stop?!" Lucifer's chair scrapes on the concrete as he jumps out of his seat, his eyes flashing with anger. If I can just push him a little further...
"Tell me the truth."
"You want the truth? Fine. I am so sick and tired of you getting everything you want. I've had to bust my ass to get a mere fraction of the respect that you receive, and all you had to do was to be burn into fucking royalty for everyone to throw themselves at you, begging for the chance to fulfill all of your desires." I stand up from my chair, gently pushing it back behind me.
"Do you see me as competition, Lucifer?"
"How can I? Just by making your presence known, you've already won before anyone else even has a chance to play. There is no competition to be had."
I knew that Lucifer was pretty insecure as a result of his sin, but I had no idea that I was one of the reasons why. I mean, he's Lucifer Morningstar, once the most revered angel in the Celestial Realm. He has just as many admirers as I do, if not more.
"May I remind you that MC was practically head over heels for you from the moment they first saw you? You didn't even have to say a single word to them. I, on the other hand, was on their bad side for a very long time. The only reason they reached out to me the last time was because they didn't want to worry you unnecessarily. I had to get them to trust me before we could even be on friendly terms, let alone romantic ones."
"You still got to them before I did."
"Well, if we're talking about engaging in bedroom activities with them, so did most of your brothers."
"I'm not worried about them." I really shouldn't say what's on my mind right now. For one, it would be a much lower blow than my previous statement, and I don't like hitting below the belt. Also, we do have an audience, and I don't want them thinking less of me.
Then again...
I recall a conversation I had with MC while they stayed with me at the castle, one that occurred early on during their visit. Among other things, they mentioned that they hated feeling like they were a mere object incapable of making their own decisions.
I wonder...
I step closer to Lucifer, who's currently glaring at me.
I'm going to be profusely apologizing for this.
"Are you afraid that I'll fuck them better than you ever can?" Lucifer clamps his hands on my shoulders.
"MC is mine!"
"Lucifer Morningstar!" MC emerges from the shadows and storms over to us, making Lucifer let go of me in shock. They're pissed.
"MC, I--"
"Sit down." Lucifer hesitates. "Now." The power of their pact makes him do as he's told. Once he's seated, MC grabs both sides of the chair and leans over Lucifer rather closely.
"How dare you." Any anger Lucifer had on his face is replaced with immense fear. "I ought to punish you for breaking your promise."
"I'm sorry." The apology comes out so softly that I can barely hear it, but the regret on his face says it all. He knows he's fucked up, and he appears ready to accept whatever punishment MC has in store for him.
Question is, will they?
MC stares into his eyes, appearing to contemplate their decision. The tension between them is intense. Part of me feels like looking away in order to give them privacy.
"I accept your apology." MC gives him a quick kiss before leaning slightly back and tilting his head up. "And for the record, I don't like to choose." They let go of the chair and walk away from him, intent on heading inside.
A simple yet determined glance in my direction has me following close behind. Once we're away from prying eyes, MC turns to me and simply states,
"Well played, Diavolo." I shrugged. "Did I pass whatever test you decided to spring on me just now?"
Perhaps Solomon is right. They are too smart for their own good.
"Hold out your hand." MC extends the hand with the crest of the Sorcerer's Society on it out to me, and I gently grab it, positioning my free hand so that it hovers over theirs.
"I, Lord Diavolo, Demon Prince and heir to the throne, grant you, MC, Solomon's apprentice and future sorcerer, the Star of Gratitude." Once the star appears on their skin, I squeeze their hand softly.
"Thank you for not hurting my friend."
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My uncle made me into a nerd
I just wasn't that academic I used to tell my mum - she disagreed - she thought I was just lazy. She was probably right.
I was 16 and leaving school and I didn't have any plans. So my mum announced that she'd spoken to my uncle, who had kindly offered to give me a job as the office junior at the firm he owned. As he lived and worked far away, it had been agreed that I would live with him.
The following Sunday I got the 2 hour train to my uncle's, where he met me at the station.
My uncle was quite a traditional man - he had a fully, neatly trimmed beard, fairly short coiffured hair, and generally wore tweed jackets and cardigans, and was seldom seen without a tie, and loved to smoke a pipe. He was a serious man, and definitely not one to have a joke - he could also have something of a short fuse, and could be a man of few words. Despite this, we had a good chat, and he seemed genuinely pleased that I was going to be working for him - he said that he felt I had great potential, and that he was sure I would do well - I just needed to follow his instruction and do my best.
I knew my uncle would want me to be fairly smart for the office, so I'd brought my old school trousers and shirts to wear in the week. I mentioned this to him, and he said we'd sort everything in the morning.
I settled into the spare room, which was a big, comfortable room with a double bed, chest of drawers, TV and big wardrobe which was currently half full of all sorts of stuff, such as an old computer, boxes of paperwork and some old clothes.
Monday morning came, and when I got out of the shower and there was a multi-packet of briefs and white vests on my bed. My uncle passed my room and said to put on the underwear and then he would be back - I explained I already had underwear that was fine to wear, but he said it made sense that I wore what he had got for me as it was new, and could I just do it please.
I did as he asked, to save starting off on the wrong foot, and then my uncle came in "Right, we'd better get you ready for your first day at work! Are you excited?" I assured him I was, and was ready to get stuck in. He said he had sorted some clothes for me to wear, but I reminded him that I had already brought some trousers and white shirts with me. "Oh no, you don't want to be wearing your school uniform! You're an adult now, so it's only right that you look the part. Now, I've looked out some clothes I don't use that will be perfect, given that we're a similar size - and you're welcome to keep them." I said I could buy anything that I needed, but he said that wasn't necessary, and I should save my money, and he was only too happy for me to make full use of these things that had just sat in his wardrobe. This was clearly an instruction rather than an offer.
I looked at what my uncle was wearing - a pair of bluey-grey wool trousers and a pale grey check shirt, with a dark grey tie with cream stripes through it - he always looked a very washed out, as he generally only wore shades of grey or bluey-grey, with only his brown shoes adding any colour, and everything always looked very old fashioned. I could only hope that the clothes he was offering had been rejected by him for being too casual or colourful.
He went over to the dresser and opened the top drawer and pulled out a pair of chocolate brown socks which he passed to me. I looked a bit confused. "Put them on" he said - I genuinely hadn't understood, as I could believe that anyone would think that a 16 year old boy would wear brown. I slipped the socks on, and he instructed me to pull them up. I did so. He then went to the wardrobe and pulled out a shirt that was very similar to his - a cream colour with a check running through it. I buttoned it up. It seemed very baggy and long in the body, but my uncle assured me that was the style. Next, he pulled out the most horrible pair of flannel trousers. They were a mid-brown colour, made with thick wool and tailored loosely - again, I said I'd just wear my own trousers, but this time he was clear "put them on." I grudgingly took the trousers from him. They were very rough texture and surprisingly heavy. I slipped them on and as I pulled them up my legs I could feel the coarse material rubbing against my leg. It felt horrible. I pulled them up and on buttoning them up I found they fitted my waist perfectly. The twin pleats meant there was extra fabric which then made for a wider trouser than the normally skinny jeans I'd normally wear. Sharp creases ran down the middle of each leg and then a turnup at the bottom gave extra weight which anchored the trousers which then hid part of my foot, due to being wider than I was used to.
I was then told to do up my top button. I did so but it was really tight! I was then passed a brown tie with beige stripes. I tied it and my uncle then clipped on a solid tie bar about a third of the way down which attached to the shirt - very similar to one he was wearing. "You'll always want to wear one of these as it stops your tie getting in the way"
"Now, shoes," he said digging into the bottom of the wardrobe. "I bought this pair but they were too big for me, so I bought another pair in the size smaller, so I'm thinking these will fit you perfectly. He then presented a pair of highly polished tan brogues. They were covered in intricate stitching and decorative small holes in the leather and with a row of very fine laces running up the middle. I recognised them. They were identical to the pair my uncle was wearing. I said something about hard leather not being good for my feet, but he assured me I would soon get used to them. He pushed them onto my feet and then tied the laces tightly. What between the collar cutting into my neck and now the shoes restricting my ancles, I was not feeling so good, and that was before the horror of the suggestion of having to wear this outfit out of the house!
My uncle had one last surprise up his sleeve, as he showed me a tweed blazer in a light tan colour, wide lapels, and a longer, boxy fit. it was again heavy and felt too big. My uncle did up the top button of the two on the front and declared it perfect. I was then shepherded downstairs to be paraded in front of my aunt, who declared me to look very handsome, and that the colours really suited me.
My uncle explained that he had tried wearing shades of brown for a short time, but he felt grey suited him better, so he relegated those clothes to the back of his wardrobe. I thought back to when I'd looked in the wardrobe and the various being brown, fawn, cream colours in the wardrobe - it now dawned on me that these weren't just random clothes that had been put there for storage....
There was a big mirror in the hallway, and I stopped to stare. I looked ridiculous. If you chopped my head off you'd think I was a middle-aged man (or older!) as no-one under 50 would wear any of these clothes, or in any of these colours. And this look definitely didn't suit me, and nor did it go with my lovely hair which flowed freely to just below my shoulders and with the gently tussled look that I had perfected after getting out of the shower. At least my hair was there to express my personality.
"Right, will we go then?" my uncle said. I nodded grudgingly. He opened the front door and gestured for me to walk in front of him to head to the car on the drive. I took one step 'clack.' And another 'clack.' I then walked closer to the car 'clack. clack. clack.' I lifted one of my feet and looked at the sole, fitted with metal plates. I then remembered you can also hear my uncle coming a mile off. I'm used to it now, but it always used to take me by surprise, as, on any hard surface you would hear his shoes clacking as he walked. People would look up and stare. Now this was me too. Though, to be honest people would stare anyway given what a 16 year old boy was wearing, but this would mean they'd get an audible alert.
We travelled in silence to the office. I was reflecting to the last half hour. It was really bad. the only saving grace was there was no-one I knew was there to see me.
We arrived. I got out the car. I took a couple of steps, still trying to get used to both the slippery soles of my shoes and the noise they made. My uncle strided off towards the door. I followed him into the office, both off us clattering down the polished wood floors in our polished brogue shoes. Everyone instinctively looked up. With that racket, who could blame them, and also I guess in heralded the arrival of the boss. Many pairs of eyeballs stared at me.
We reached the corner and he pointed to a desk as part of a group of 4 "this is yours, take a seat" now this is Sally, Daniel and Mark. And this is Alexander" I said hi to each of them. Sally was probably 60 and I knew to be my uncles secretary. Daniel was around my uncles age and I found out was office manager, while Mark was a graduate who had joined the firm the previous summer.
"Make yourself comfortable, and we'll talk through your induction shortly" I sat down, and Mark sat next to me did a bit of small talk, and we got onto the fact I'd just left school. "was it public school? by any chance?" Mark asked. I said no and asked why he'd said that. "Well, it's just based on your outfit, I can only imagine that someone from public school might have clobber like that!" I explained that my uncle had had a guiding hand in the outfit. "Ahh, that explains it - I'm surprised you got away with that hair in that case" I queried this "well he made me get my hair cut shorter because he said it looked too messy." I looked at Mark's hair it wasn't long but it just about reached the collar of the shirt he was wearing, and just above his eyebrows, brushed to the side. He looked a bit surfer-like. "I love my hair, so there's no way I'm cutting it" I said.
The morning went quite quickly. Everyone was friendly. I took my jacket off as soon as I could, as all the other men were just wearing open shirts, so I felt over dressed (as well as being downed in a sea of turd-coloured clothing).
It got to 12.30 and my uncle said "right, grab your jacket, we're going out." I grabbed it and clicked along behind him. He turned round "well put your jacket on then" which I did while trying to keep up with him as we headed to the car.
We parked up and headed to an open doorway, and I found myself in a barbershop. My uncle had a few words of greeting and then pointed to me "This is Alexander. He needs smartening up, as we discussed" I was told to take my jacket off and sit straight in the chair.
I said I just wanted a light trim, as I was being caped up, but the barber patted me on the shoulder and told me to just relax, as my uncle had already sorted everything.
My hair was about a maximum of about 10 inches long at the front, and maybe 4 or 5 inches at the back - it was all swept back in quite a loose, bohemian style that I loved. I really didn't want to loose that style.
Before I could say another word the barber had his clippers in his hand and with a comb he was pulling out my hair from the side of my head about an inch or so and then cutting off the remaining hair. Massive long stands of hair were falling to the ground. This was years' of growth. "I really want to keep the length on top" I blurted out. The barber just smiled vaguely. This combing and clipping continued round the back and to the other side of my head, so that the hair on the sides was now drastically shorter, though still a little bit shaggy, and just nestled on the top of my ears. It was already way shorter than I would like. He then started on the top though this time leaving maybe 3-4 inches of length. I was devastated. He then dragged the comb down my head causing a slight pain on my head, and leaving a very precise parting down the left side of my head, as he combed the hair carefully to each side.
This done, he now turned back to the sides and using his comb, he now angled it downwards and swiped more hair off the side of my head. This time about half an inch of hair fell, and I could soon see that he was leaving shorter hair of only about an eighth of an inch at the bottom and blending upwards to maybe half an inch higher up, and progressing round my head once more. He then took a smaller razor and went round my ears and then also cut a line across the top of my sideburns, and I could feel him carving a line across the back of my head.
On the side of the brand new part he then continued with clipper and comb taking the length of all of the hair to the part line progressively longer, but the maximum length still only being about three quarters of an inch. Then across the top of my head he did some snipping with the scissors but with only very small specks of hair flying off. He then went around the upper sides blending the shorter sides with the longer length. This was all looking very short.
Finally, he then brushed down the long hair at the front and cut across my forehead at a diagonal, leaving long hair by the part which hung just above my eyebrow and finishing near the top of my head on the right side of my face.
Suddenly the chair was tilted back and shaving foam slapped on my face. My little facial hair was quickly removed, and I could feel him shaving off my entire sideburns. On being returned upright, I could see that my face looked very pale following the removal of my attempts at facial hair - while the hair on my head made me look like some sort of preppy American Highschooler with the side part hanging loosely over my forehead. The barber took some gel in his hands and ran it through my hair working outwards from the part line. He then took the hair at the front of my head and flicked it upwards and to the side creating a small ridge.
"Done" he announced proudly. My uncle stood up "excellent, now Alexander looks like a man you'd be proud to walk beside. Excellent work."
The barber showed me the back, which was a short blocked taper, where less than an hour before had been my beautiful mane. My neck was so pale! I saw what was a very standard business man's haircut. I guess it's exactly what my uncle would choose. In fact, it was just a shorter version of his haircut really. We definitely had matching side partings now. It was too grim for words. But he was the boss.
Back at the office, I felt even more embarrassment and we both clacked through the office, and me - not just a vision in brown, but now with my short business man's haircut. On sitting down, Mark whistled "that's some haircut you got there. Thought there was no way you were cutting it?" "Well my uncle made me realise that shorter hair is easier to manage when you've got a job." Neither of us bought that - it was blatantly obvious from the style of what was on my head that only one person had had any input into my new conservative haircut, and my new outfit, and it wasn't me.
Back at the house, my aunt was thrilled with my cut, and said how I looked like my uncle when he was younger!
I took my jacket off and sat down. I undid my top button, and started untying my shoes as my uncle jumped in - "we don't take out ties or shoes off until we retire to bed", he admonished me. I grudgingly re-tied.
"Now, I've a treat for you - as a working man, you deserve a treat, and I'd like you to join me in a pipe." Now, he smoked regularly, but I had no interested - and in fact, I hated even the smell. I'd never smoked, and didn't want to. I politely declined.
He opened his drawer next to his seat and took out two pipes. One was newly boxed, he passed that one to me. I unwrapped it. He showed me how to roll tobacco and pack a pipe. He gave me a tobacco pouch, and lighter. Mine to keep he said. He then lit my pipe for me and put it in my mouth "now breath it" I tried not to breath in much, but even the little I did made me cough. "and again" I tried and coughed more. We continued this for about 20 minutes until the nicotine was making me feel faint. It certainly wasn't a treat.
By the end of week one I was hating it. The daily outfit remained identical, other than alternating between tweed blazers, shirts and ties, all in earthy shades. And he kept making me persevere with the pipe. I was coughing less but really didn't like it, and I now stank of tobacco.
I'd been getting on well with Mark - I think he felt sorry for me, and invited me out on Saturday with my mates. My uncle was happy to agree. I explained I'd like to wear my own clothes, but my uncle couldn't understand it - if you have good quality smart clothes available, why would you want to wear lesser clothes. And also all my old clothes had mysteriously disappeared. This wasn't a new work wardrobe. This was my only wardrobe.
Mark smirked when I entered the pub - "do you ever not dress like a grandad" he said.
We had a company away day which included some drinks afterwards. A couple of the guys said they were going for a cigarette, and my uncle said we'd join them. He got his pipe out and nodded to me. I shook my head, but he gave me THE look. I grudgingly got my pipe out. We lit up. Mark looked at me with disbelief. I could understand it. Here I was dressed in brown tweed, with the geekiest haircut and smoking a pipe. I was a lost cause.
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Violent delights
Warnings: Swearing
Pairings: Jacaerys Velaryon x oc
1.03
You sit before the queen, the king's hand, the High Septon, and the maester who helped deliver your baby, listening to the conditions of your annulment to Aegon, who was nowhere to be found. Daemon and Jacaerys weren’t allowed in the room, so without their support, you found yourself giving into Queen Alicent’s terms quickly. The queen's reasoning for wanting the annulment for her son was that you were unable to produce a male heir, which was a cruel thing to say even by her standards. Alicent smiled while declaring you and Aemma were no longer to have the last name Targaryen, and Aegon wasn’t to be named as Aemma’s father on any documents. Making Aemma a bastard was the ultimate insult to your family, one you were sure the greens would delight in.
You suspected House Hightower's alliance with the faith was the only reason the High Septon was allowing this to happen.
You give Alicent a shocked look when she asks if you agreed to her terms, knowing if you disagreed with anything, the annulment process would be stopped and you would be forced to stay in the Red Keep with Aegon. “I agree to the terms, your Grace.”
Alicent’s nostrils flare as she stares at you, and her features only soften slightly when her father whispers something into her ear. You wonder if she was expecting you to challenge her. She sits back in her chair and says, “Very well then. Is there anything else you’d like to address, Lyarra?”
“If possible, I’d like to return to my old bedchambers, assuming my belongings are still inside them. I’d like to take the dragon egg I had picked for Rhaegar home with me, if your grace allows it.” You can catch glimpses of humanity in her eyes, and you hope she will allow them.
“Very well. I shall have Ser Criston escort you.”
“Thank you, your Grace.”
—
The walk to your old bedchamber was in silence as bitterness radiated from Ser Criston. Soon as the door behind you was closed, you picked up the dark blue egg you had chosen for your son, then paused. You glance at the door, then look at the wall hiding the passageway that connects your room to Aegon’s.
You know it’s the wrong thing to do, but you can’t help the burning desire to know if Aegon had endangered his own baby’s life. You needed to know what you were up against. You glance around your old bedchamber, which was once a prison to you, then head towards his bedchamber.
It is no surprise to you that Aegon is passed out on a chair, butt naked. You try to shake him awake, but when it doesn’t work, you pour a jug of water over him. Startled, he sits up, frowning at you, and groans while rubbing the water dripping from his hair out of his face. “I thought you left to go live with your mother. Or did you miss me terribly and return?”
You swat his hand away when he presses it against your hip, saying, “Do not touch me.”
“Gods, you're so uptight,” he says before flopping back down. He lets out a huff and asks, “Did you bring the girl with you?”
“No.”
He stares up at the ceiling with a distant look in his eyes and says, “Probably for the best.”
“If you do not wish to be a part of your daughter's life, that is fine, but I need to know if you sent Aemond after us on dragon back.”
“What?” He shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed, and lazily he pushed you out of the way so he could refill his knocked-over cup with wine. “I have no idea what nonsense you are talking about.”
“Aegon!” Frustrated that he wasn’t taking you seriously, you grip his jaw so he’s unable to avoid making eye contact with you. Vhagar is the largest dragon in the world; no other dragon would stand a chance against her. You only got away safely because Aemond was too scared to act when Daemon was present. “When I left to return to Dragonstone with Aemma, your own flesh and blood! Aemond followed me to Vhagar. Did you ask him to try and scare me into returning to the keep, or kill us?”
Surprisingly, Aegon’s bloodshot eyes filled with tears. “no. I was unaware this had happened. I’m many things, but I’m not a kinslayer.”
You believed him. Aegon looked genuinely hurt by the lack of knowledge of what his brother had done. You let go of his jaw and walked to his door, leaving him to drown out any emotions he may feel in privacy.
Just as you reach the door, Aegon mumbles, “It wasn’t all bad, was it?”
Sighing, you clutch the dragon egg closely to your chest and exit Aegon’s room for the last time without replying. You didn’t have the energy or the heart to explain that you had no good memories of being married to him.
You’re so distracted that you don’t see the person standing in front of the door until you slam into them. Shit. You gulp down, “Jacaerys…”
He grabs your hand, pulling you behind him until you're out of earshot of anyone else. Jace was furious at the way you went off without telling him or Daemon, but you couldn't help it. It had happened almost entirely on instinct, with some silent voice telling you to confront Aegon before your brain even processed how dangerous the situation could turn. “Me and Daemon have been looking for you for some time; we grew worried when you never came back from the meeting. The guards told us you’d gone to your old bedchamber.”
Your voice is small as you say, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I just needed to talk to Aegon.”
Jace lets go of your hand and spins around fast; his face is hardened except for his pleading eyes. “Mother used to cry herself to sleep at night; she never forgave herself for letting you marry our uncle. She wishes she had fought against it.” He takes a step closer to you and says, “You’ve no idea how much we’ve missed you, yet you act so recklessly." We’ve all heard the stories of what he does to the servants; he’s capable of anything.”
“Trust me, I know I know exactly what he’s capable of; how did you know I went to his chamber?”
“Because you're my sister, my other half. And I—” He stops before finishing his sentence.
“Jace, what were you going to say?”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
Frowning, you repeat the question, “What were you going to say?”
Shaking his head, he starts to turn away from you, saying, “We should go. Vermax is getting restless, and it’s not safe for us here.”
—
The trip back to Dragonstone was mainly in silence. Daemon had picked up on the tension between you and the queen's protector but never asked anything; instead, he sent you home.
Ser Criston grits his teeth as you walk by him to get outside. The knight looked furious. Without realizing it, your pace quickens until you cross the bounds of personal space with Jacaerys, and your arm brushes against his with each step you take. He notices but says nothing as his eyes remain glued to the ground.
When you reach Vermax and Caraxes, your stepfather, Daemon, crosses his arms over, holding Ser Criston’s glare. The knight was now standing by the doorway, watching intensely as you got ready to leave. Daemon clicks his tongue and says, “Go straight home; we will discuss what happened with your mother present.”
Your heart races in your chest as you replay your brother's words. You had been reckless. Aegon could have tried to physically harm you, force himself on you, or kill you. And in your fragile state, you would have been able to attempt to fight him off.
Your arms tighten around Jacaerys waist. “I’m sorry,” you say loudly so he can hear you through the wind blowing in his ears. “I should never have spoken to him alone.”
When Jace doesn’t answer verbally, you think he’s not heard you, but when one of his hands rests atop yours, you realize he has, and the tension in your body settles a little.
—-
You watched as the sun disappeared behind the thick gray clouds forming above; it wouldn’t be long until the storm reached. You stare up into the sky as an uneasy feeling settles in you; your stepfather hasn’t returned to Dragonstone yet. You didn’t dare say it out loud, but you were petrified that one of the other dragons might have attacked Daemon and Caraxes.
You didn’t notice Jacaerys talking to you until he put his arm around your shoulder and said, “We should go inside; you’re sick, Lyarra, and I don’t want you getting caught in the rain.”
It hurt to think of all the times you would let the rain soak you without a care in the world. “You used to love dragon riding with me in the rain.”
“Ñuha dona mandia, we will ride our dragons in the rain again soon, but for now, I need you to go inside and get warm.”
Your brows pull together; you weren’t a child who needed to be coddled. Puffing out your cheeks, you look down at the ground. It didn’t matter that you had a child of your own for Jace; you would always be his younger sibling he needed to protect. A thought suddenly occurred to you. “You didn’t know where I went after leaving my bedchamber. You went to talk to Aegon yourself, didn’t you?”
Jacaerys clears his throat. “I spoke to him while you were in the meeting with the queen. When I returned and Daemon said you hadn’t returned, I thought you might have gone there.”
You considered asking him what was said but decided against it; it was probably best you didn’t know. “I sometimes forget how alike we are.”
“Look!” Jace points up flashes of red above, followed by a loud roar. From so far away, it looked as if Caraxes was twirling in the sky, otherwise known as Daemon, making a dramatic entrance. “They made it back safely.”
—
Soon as Daemon's feet hit the ground and heavy rain started to fall, he ordered you and Jacaerys to go clean up for a meeting with your mother.
You walk with your arm linked with Jace’s out of the tunnels the dragons resign themselves to and towards the castle's entrance. “The maesters said you would have died of exhaustion if you hadn’t arrived when you did. But now you are safe, and we can look after you here, so there’s no need for you to feel like that anymore.”
During your walk, you confided in your brother how lonely you had been in the Red Keep.
“Thank you; being surrounded by family certainly helps. I just hope Mother and Daemon aren’t disappointed in me for agreeing to Alicent’s terms so easily.”
“You could never disappoint any of us.”
It surprised you how much Jacaerys had changed over the years. He had grown into a handsome young man; he was good-natured and smart. You had no doubt that when his time came, he would be a well-respected king known for his kindness.
—
Even though you weren’t Rhaenyra’s oldest child, you had to grow up much faster than your siblings; being the only daughter meant you had to make sacrifices. You would have preferred to have spent the last few years attending lessons and dragon riding by your brother's side instead of feeling isolated. But you would never complain out loud, “If I hadn’t done my duty, then my daughter wouldn’t have been brought into the world.”
“That’s very well, but Alicent has made a complete mockery of House Targaryen,” Daemon hissed. The prince slams his hands against the table while standing up, “this cannot stand. I will fly back to the red keep and inform Viserys of this myself.”
You mothers face is stern as she looks up at while stroking her bump, “you will do no such thing.”
Daemon's eyes darkened and his jaw tensed a little. “Aemma is your blood, They have made her a bastard! What will you do about it?”
The servants clearing the table kept their heads low, too afraid to look at the enraged prince. Your mother sighed, “Lucerys, Joffrey it’s time to get ready for your remaining lessons.”
You start to bounce your arms ever so slightly to help the babe in your arms sleep, watching as your two younger brothers left the room, Luke didn’t seem to mind but Joffrey sulked on his way out. You felt your blood boil under your skin, “Alicent and Otto want a reaction.”
“Snakes waiting for the precise moment to strike their prey and spread their poison,” your mother states. Her eyes are hazy as she stares out of one of the windows, looking deep in thought. “There are many ways this issue could be resolved without returning to the keep.”
Daemon who is now pacing lets out a scoff, “like what?”
“Start a petition, have my father legitimize her… or if push comes to shove we could come up with a different story. Hardly anyone saw Lyarra in the keep-”
“I won’t have my daughter grow up in a lie.”
Jacaerys stands, gaining attention from everyone in the room, “there is one other way. Aemma is only a few days old,” he looks directly at you. “If you are remarried then it would be believable that he would be her father.”
His suggestion made you laugh. You understood where he was coming from, but it wasn’t realistic. “And who would you propose for this knight in shining armor?”
“Me.”
Ñuha dona mandia - My sweet sister
#house of the dragon#jacaerys velaryon x you#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic#jacaerys velaryon fanfic#Jacaerys Velaryon#jacaerys velaryon/you#jacaerys velaryon fanfiction#violent delights#Jacaerys Velaryon x oc#Jacaerys Velaryon x fem oc#Jacaerys Velaryon/oc#jace velaryon fanfic#jace velaryon fanfiction#jace velaryon x you#Jace Velaryon x oc
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