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ninapi · 4 months

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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Family ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Premise: Raising someone else's child is one thing, but raising your own while dealing with your insecurities could be quite a task, especially for a man like Satoru, but the moment he saw the baby his life turned upside down.

Word Count: 3104

Note: This is the third installment for a short series of mine, they all have different titles because I'm weird like that lol, but you can read the first part here, and the second one here.

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When Satoru took Megumi in, he didn’t have to do much besides giving him financial support and make sure he had everything he needed as a growing child.

He was already the person he is to this day, and Saturu had very little to add to this. So when he realized what having his own baby was going to be, his already existing demons started to kick in.

While is normally the mother the one who tends to spiral into despair thinking of the future of their newborn and the changes impacting daily life, Satoru had more than one reason to feel uneasy.

He loved his girl and his unborn child, there was no doubt there; but the implications of being a parent were heavy for a man like him.

Dealing with the elders was one thing, but being a good dad was a very different one.

All he was good at was fighting curses, that’s what he came to this world to do, but having to think of how to be a good dad was definitely more scary than a special grade curse.

Megumi was way more ready than he was, in fact, without Megumi your pregnancy would have been quite the nightmare. But he was always checking up on you, helping you with tidying the apartment, even took you to the hospital check ups and went in the doctor’s office with you.

Some even thought he was your son, to Megumi’s displeasure.

Satoru on the other hand tended to flee when things like this came upon, excuses were easy to come by when you’re the strongest sorcerer. But in reality he was beating himself over and over again for his own behavior while sitting on a cliff.

He wanted this, he wanted to be with you, wanted to have a family with you. Or so he thought at first, but what does it even mean to have a family? His was anything but conventional and he had no idea where to start.

You were his life now, he didn’t care about the future of this world if he was being honest, he never did really, all he wanted was to take you to a Polynesian island and live in a fancy luxury tree house with you, the baby and Megumi. But life wasn’t as easy, he had to deal not just with the damn old men hunting his every step, but also his responsibilities in the school, he couldn’t just disappear, not with another teacher and a top tier student tagging along.

He wanted to do better, be a good husband, a good dad, not just to his baby but to Megumi as well, he felt like he’s been failing everyone he truly cares for and that was a feeling like no other, one he could live his entire life without encountering it ever again.

But time for cowarding around ended sooner than he expected as time runs extremely fast when you don’t want to deal with your problems.

He got a call from Megumi, he was at the hospital, water came out of you and you were tugging on his hair while screaming in pain, you were certainly dying so he had to come fast. It all sounded like a nightmare to Satoru, he truly thought you were dying, he’s never seen a pregnant woman on the later stage of pregnancy deal with it, and Megumi either, so they were both panicking on a bench this very same moment.

“I can’t lose her, Megumi…what am I going to do if she dies? What if the baby dies too? What if I have to raise the baby on my own? I can’t do this…I would rather be killed by a curse…maybe I should turn off my infinity…yes, someone would come and kill me as well, then we would all die together…” a loud smack could be heard rumbling over every wall of the hospital. He’s never seen Megumi this angry before, “Can you stop and be a god damn adult for once in your life? (Y/N) needs you. She’s in labor right now, delivering your baby! She’s in so much pain, things are coming out of her, she’s probably so scared right now, and all you’re thinking about are ways of getting yourself killed!”

Satoru’s cheek was quickly getting red and swollen, how did he even manage to touch him that easily?

Zenin’s are truly a terrifying clan.

“Why does nobody care about me being scared? I can be scared too you know? I know I’m the strongest sorcerer, but that doesn’t make me the strongest husband or the strongest dad…”

Megumi was left speechless, he never thought the great Gojo Satoru would admit being scared, “Do you think I’m not scared? I love her ok? She might be your girl, the mother of your child and what not, but she isn’t just a crush to me, she’s also the only mother figure I’ve had, the only person who truly understands me and cares for me. I don’t want her to die!” tears were falling down Megumi’s cheeks as he vented all his worries out of his very constricted chest. He’s the one who’s been by your side during your whole pregnancy, what if this was his fault? What if you were in so much pain because he didn’t take good care of you? Those words kept flooding his head and Satoru was just as lost as he was in that moment, he didn’t know how to reassure his adoptive son and was in need of reassurance himself.

That was until loud cries could be heard coming from the room you were being kept in.

“What was that-“

Megumi’s ears perked, he couldn’t hear you at all, why was it so loud, he needed to confirm you were fine. “I don’t know, who’s crying? That’s not her, I’m sure…”

“Of course is not her, you idiot…” the door opened up to a very tired looking nurse, her gown was covered in what looks like blood wiped out not long ago, Satoru’s face paling the moment he saw her.

“Is…I-Is (Y/N)…” his voice was cracking, all his memories with you going into his brain like a movie.

“She’s fine, she’s currently holding your son, would you like to go in? She’s asking for Megumi, I assume that’s you?”

“No, that’s me! Can I go in too then?” the nurse was very confused but nodded anyways. Megumi ran inside the room, falling down to his knees when he saw you smiling, holding a little bundle to your chest, “Oh thank god….”

“Gumi, my love, come meet your baby brother!” you looked so tired, yet so happy, he thought he’d never get to see your beautiful smile ever again.

“Are you ok? Is the pain gone?”

“She’s fine kid, giving birth is no easy fit, hope this experience helps you respect women for what their worth. Men would never be able to give birth, they’d die within minutes.” the nurse’s words made you chuckle, it was true after all, especially for your spoiled boys.

“Toru? I didn’t know you were here, I thought you were at work! Come meet your son~” Satoru was still by the door, he thought he’d lost you, the very same feeling he felt that one day you almost die in front of his eyes, just that this time felt even more real as he saw the dried blood on the nurse. He didn’t know how to react, relief was present that’s for sure, but he was also terrified, he was happy to hear you were fine, but you were holding his son right this moment. He had a son now, officially, he is a dad now.

“Babe?” the confused look in your face made him move from his spot, he couldn’t put more stress on you, not after you had to deal with all that just to bring his son to this world.

“So a boy, huh? I thought it’d be a girl…” Megumi really wanted the baby to be a girl, to look just like you so he could snuggle the baby’s cute cheeks and spoil her rotten.

“Mhm, I haven’t named him yet, I wanted Toru to see him first…” Satoru was now standing beside you, his eyes not going down just yet, though his range of vision was so wide, he could see a tiny hand moving out and about and it made it so hard for him to keep ignoring him.

Once he finally got the courage to look at his son, his brain released a triple shot of dopamine right to his heart.

How can a newborn be this cute? They’re usually all red and wrinkly, not at all pretty. But his son…he got his blue eyes and silvery hair, but his face, he looked just like you. The cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Is he…” the moment he opened his mouth the baby started wailing loudly, startling his father.

You were rocking the baby from side to side making him know everything was fine, “Sweetie, c’mon hold your son.”

“But he’s crying (Y/N)! How do I make it stop?” you set the child in his arms, once their eyes met the baby stopped crying, a lil yawn leaving his lips, this causing Satoru to smile. “Oh, I think he’s just tired…aren’t you my beautiful son?”

“It’s a combined effort of both sides after all, he did have to help mama a lot during the birthing process.” The nurse was finally ready to leave you to rest and needed to take the child with her. “He needs to come with me, Gojo-san. But I need a name so I can set him in the room with the other newborns.”

“I was thinking of naming him Suguru…you know…to honor your frie-“

“No.”

“But baby…”

“I said no.” his stern tone of voice made your heart sink, you thought he’d be happy about this, it was some sort of a surprise even.

Megumi saw darkness loom over Satoru’s eyes and thought of intervening. “Shion.”

“What was that, love?”

“Shion, my brother’s name I mean..” the fact that he referred to the baby as his brother made you feel so much love, even Satoru’s face softened at his words.

“Gojo Shion it is then.” the nurse took the baby from Satoru’s arm and he’s never felt this empty before. “Do you really need to take him? I mean he’s a newborn, is not like he needs friends right now. Wouldn’t it be better for him to hang out with his family than with other babies?” his reasoning was beyond cute, even to the stoic nurse.

“Look sir, the child isn’t going to a baby party, he needs a check up and that’s the process in general. If everything goes out well you’ll be able to take them home in a couple of days. Now if you excuse me..” The baby was half asleep and his little hand was out of the blanket still and Satoru felt like his life lost all purpose, his son needed him so much right now, he needed to be tucked cozily under his blanket and there was nothing he could do to help him…he felt completely useless…

Megumi was cleaning your face with a wet towel, making sure your pillow was all fluffed properly, while Satoru spiraled into sadness.

“Can you get the blanket in her baby bag? There’s also some warm socks in the front pocket.”

Satoru could feel Megumi’s murderous stare and that made him go back to earth, “Yeah sure. Socks…socks…here.”

Megumi just stared at his hand with so much hate, yet he didn’t know what he did wrong this time. “What?”

“(Y/N)’s socks, not the baby’s socks…”

“Oh! Right…” he needed to get himself together, you needed him just as much as his son did.

“Here, my love.” he got your feet covered with your favorite fluffy socks, then leaned to kiss your head lovingly. Megumi covered you with the blanket he brought for you and went over the snacks he packed to replenish your strength.

“Isn’t he the most beautiful baby you’ve ever seen?” you sounded so tired, exhausted even, but to him you were the most wonderful and beautiful women in this universe. The mother of his son.

“Of course he is, he’s my son~” that made you chuckle.

“We are parents now…how does that make you feel, Toru?” that question hunted him for months, but now he was ready to answer it truthfully. “I’m scared…I don’t know if I can be a good dad…But I’m also the happiest man alive…you’ve given me so much…I want to be the man you and my son need me to be…” his face wasn’t one of happiness, it was more one of realization.

He felt so much…it was overwhelming.

But the moment he locked eyes with his son, he just knew it, this was it, this was the real reason he came to this world, to bring his son to life, to give you and his son a happy life full of beautiful memories.

“Gojo-sensei…I think she needs rest…” you were giving him a soft loving smile, your thumb rubbing the back of his hand while he processed what just happened.

“I’ll stay here, you go back to the school.” he wasn’t there for you when you needed him most, when you were confused and in pain, when you needed his love and care. But he was here now, and he wouldn’t let that happen again.

He grabbed one of the chairs by the wall and brought it next to your bed, his hand reaching for yours once more before dimming the lights, “I’ll stay here with you, baby. Just rest.”

Megumi left after making sure you had everything you needed with the promise of coming back next morning with a fresh change of clothing for his guardian.

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Having a newborn baby in the house was a whole adventure, at least according to Satoru.

He had to learn everything about babies in a couple of days and lets just say books aren’t as reliable in the subject.

Babies cry a lot and figuring out what the problem was isn’t as easy as he had hoped for.

Not only that but your nipples were sore from breastfeeding causing you to frown all day, Megumi was in a bad mood because the baby didn’t let him sleep at night and he ended up stepping on a dirty diaper this morning, twice, barefoot.

While to others this might sound awful, Satoru was living his best life.

His son was just as in love with him as he was and he was livid. Putting him to bed was his self assigned job and his favorite part of the day. He’d go on talking forever explaining how his technique works and all he had to do to perfect it, of course his son didn’t understand a thing, but his voice really soothed the child so they both loved their bonding time.

Megumi would sneak in your room and sleep while hugging one of your legs while Satoru took the child out to get some sunlight in, even if he denied it, he was very much jealous of his baby brother, he just didn’t get as much time with you as before and he had no excuses to be babied like the infant was now. He wanted more and didn’t know how to ask for it, so even if you and Satoru were aware of his sneaky nap times, you both appeared ignorant to the teen.

Being a mother suited you so beautifully though, there was nothing Satoru loved more than seeing you with his son in your arms. The way your loving eyes landed on his little face, the kissy sounds you made at him to make him giggle, it was all just so perfect to him.

And being a father suited him just as much. The baby carrier he had hanging from his chest daily and the way he would always hold one of his tiny feet in one of his hands as he walked by proudly was the cutest thing this world had to offer.

He was a happy man.

Of course, him parading around with his child made the elders realize what was going on pretty fast.

Thankfully the child didn’t display any sign of inheriting infinity, at least not yet, something he had shown almost since birth, which made them back off quite fast with the promise of him trying to conceive further children with you.

Of course, he didn’t want this. Not because he didn’t want more babies, but because it terrified him knowing one of them could very well have it and be taken away from you. The thought of his son being exploited the way he was as a child was a constant nightmare for him.

But reality plays dirty tricks on you when you least expect them..

You being such a cute mama and having those swollen breasts full of milk caused…unexpected results…getting you pregnant once more before Shion even turned four months of age.

For someone who didn’t understand the concept of family, he was quite good at making one.

His first family member being the lovely teenage boy who loved the mother of his children more than anything in this world, more than him to be quite honest. But he regretted nothing, Megumi was as important in this family as little Shion was and the little baby girl inside your growing belly.

The family kept growing at an exponential rate, and this world was anything but safe. But having the strongest sorcerer by your side did help quite a lot, specially now that he’d gotten the titles of strongest dad and strongest husband to the list as he very much wished and thought never would.

His family was not conventional, it was broken even, starting with him.

But it was perfect the way it was.

He chose his own family after all.

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Masterlist

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu fanfic #fluff #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #daddy gojo

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dragondream-ing · 4 months

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If someone defends Rhaenyra’s usurpation because of tRaDiTiOn, they better be waving a Maegor banner proudly.

I’m being serious.

So many people in this fandom care about the tradition of Westerosi inheritance and act like yelling about it justifies team green’s actions. They never seem to take into consideration what it means.

This post is inspired by my allergy to inconsistency and hypocrisy. Here we go.

The only consistent tradition of Targaryen succession is the ruler choosing their own heir. Sometimes that aligned with Westerosi tradition, often it did not. And it started with the very first heir. So either you admit Maegor was the rightful heir over Aenys, or you admit he wasn’t because Aegon the Conqueror said so.

Let me explain.

Visenya was Aegon’s first wife. In Westerosi tradition, Rhaenys would be considered at best a mistress and her children out of the succession or, at the least, behind Visenya’s children. The lords accepted the validity of Aegon’s plural marriage because they didn’t have the power to oppose the Conquerors, simple as. Tradition didn’t matter in the face of dragons. It is not a genuine argument and hasn’t been since the creation of the Crown itself. House Targaryen’s exceptionalism went beyond incest and dragons from the start, and accepting Aenys as king shows the nobles accepted this when it was convenient.

So I’d like team green to be consistent. Is the king’s word law, a la Aegon choosing Aenys as his heir? Or is this a break from tradition that was only corrected when Maegor killed his nephew and took the throne?

It gets messy from here. Maegor, as we know, didn’t have a child, so he chose his great-niece, Aerea as his heir. Jaehaerys was still alive, he could’ve chosen him. Heck, that might’ve eased like a drop of the tension between him, Jaehaerys and Alyssa Velaryon. So if you’re a tradition truther, Maegor was the proper king but then chose an untraditional heir. Hmm.

Then we get to Jaehaerys, and a tradition truther might think YES, THAT’S OUR GUY. But he’s really not.

Yes, he stopped considering his eldest living child, Daenerys, as his heir after Aemon was born. But then Aemon died.

Aemon did, however, die with an heir. Her name was Rhaenys. In Westerosi tradition, she’d inherit after him, because a daughter inherits before a brother. Now, I know the lords do all sorts of things to circumvent this (see Alys Karstark), but that *is* Westerosi tradition.

Did Jaehaerys follow tradition? Nope. He picked his second oldest son, Baelon.

Some might say there are logical reasons for this. Baelon was a warrior, older, and had grown sons. Rhaenys was like 18, married to an ambitious lord not named Targaryen, and at risk of dying in childbirth (Baelon was named heir in 92, Rhaenys had her first child in 92). HOWEVER, we see with Jeyne Arryn becoming Lady of the Vale while still a *toddler* that Westerosi tradition doesn’t set aside claims merely because such concerns exist. In fact, in ASOIAF, some Lannister married an f-ing BABY to lay claim to her lands because *she* is the acknowledged inheritor.

You could argue that it matters more when it’s the Crown, and I’ll concede that while pointing out you’ve made my argument for me: isn’t that a good reason for the Crown to do what it wants instead of following traditions that hamstring it?

If you’re a tradition truther, however, you should be in a rage and insisting Rhaenys inherit, and you should be outraged by what was done to her at the Council of 101 after Baelon dies. Her claim wasn’t even considered, Laenor’s was—ya know, her toddler son who got his claim *through* her.

So then Viserys takes the throne and continues the Targaryen custom of choosing his heir. And the tradition truthers of the fandom rise up and boo, and they cry “duty and sacrifice! What about tradition!?”

Just admit that the lords of Westeros, Alicent, her merry band of greens, and the fans that make excuses for them didn’t and don’t care about tradition unless it suits them, and they only become vocal about it when a woman stands a good chance of inheriting over a man.

Viserys never wavered in his choice, the realm knew it and so did the greens. This is precisely why Rhaenyra had far more support than her brother, and why the argument that the realm wouldn’t accept her is bs. The realm DID accept her. Because they understood something many in this fandom struggle to

There was only one consistent tradition of royal succession between the Conquest and the Dance: the ruler chooses their heir.

#anti team green #anti alicent stans #say tradition one more time I dare you #the Targaryens answer to neither gods nor men hello #is the king’s word law or not #one time I asked a team green stan this on Twitter and got blocked so fast lmao #team black forever #Rhaenyra is the true queen deal with it

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traumatizeddfox · 2 months

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we seriously need to change the language when it comes to abuse. narc abuse does not exist. abusers can have mental disorders, triggers, or traumas but that does not mean people with the same disorder is abusive.

when i first realized i was abused i fell down the narcissistic abuse tiktok trail, i started to believe the only reason my ex was abusive was because he had NPD (he is diagnosed) but then after more of my own research, and conversations with people who are diagnosed with NPD, I realized that abusers are just abusers, and that a lot of people with this disorder are the ones being abused, ostracized from society and not taken serious.

The thing about abusers is they all share the same brain cell, which is why you can list off 10 things most abusers do and a lot of victims will relate. I get countless anons of victims telling me things their abusers did, and I can usually 8/10 times relate on some kind of level, because abusers, again literally only share one brain cell.

The issue with this is abuse has been almost synonymous with the word "narcissist". The amount of shit you see with "Narc abuse", when it's really just abuse. People making countless posts about "how to spot a narcissist, how to fix the narc", etc and I can guarantee you that not all of these abusers have NPD.

BUT we live in such a world of "what about me", so when people try to break the stigma of NPD, victims assume you're telling them they weren't abused. They mention x y z thing that their abuser did, they bring up their mother who maybe was one and maybe their abuser does have NPD, but then these same people want to scream about mental health awareness. They want to say that "Your disorder is not your story", or that everyone with a disorder deserves love, respect, therapy and help but once anyone with a disorder that isn't socially acceptable, it's as if these people turn a blind eye to anyone with a disorder that isn’t classified as worthy. No one is telling you to respect or love the piece of shit who abused you, hurt you, bullied you. Fuck that, but we HAVE to stop associating abuse with npd. if we want to make a change to mental health and the stigma, we need to do with all disorders.

People make these videos, blogs, books, posts, etc on narcissists like they arent...human. The stigma has turned anyone with cluster B personality disorders into something hideous, when really, most of these people are born this way, or deep rooted trauma. BUT when people hear this, they think its giving an excuse. No one is telling you that you have to love ur abuser who might be a narcissist, or that mental disorders = pass. No. Your abuser can have NPD, OCD, depression, etc and be a completely terrible person, and no one is giving them a pass. (Maybe some might but thats a completely different story.) but to just assume NPD = abuser and abuser = npd, is incredibly ableist, but people aren't ready for that one.

The way people talk about people with NPD like they are monsters, and ghouls waiting in the dark corners of the street, waiting to snatch their next victim (who they always describe as being an empath because these people think having empathy = being a good person, when most people aren't even empaths.) They like to romanticize their abuse as well. Talking about how narcissists spot victims who are so "kind, loving, wonderful, special." They try to make it this thing that it's not. Abusers do not abuse you because you are special. they abuse you because they are abusers. Your abuser is a piece of shit who deserves to die because they are an abuser. not because they have a disorder.

period.

#actuallytraumatized #ventcore #actuallymentallyill #traumacore #ok to rb #trauma #actuallyabused #npd safe #npd positivity #narc abuse #narcissists #narcassistic personality disorder

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whatitshouldvebeen · 7 months

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A man like Johnny 😍 how nice it would be

I'm gonna burst my own bubble here and say: I'm sane enough to realize being with Johnny would be 10000% toxic.

But, I can't help the fact he turns me on like crazy. I'll break down what a relationship with him would be like.

Johnny is a supreme narcissist. The extent he cares about you directly correlates to how much you care about him and stops the moment being with you is more difficult than it's worth

He would require and demand complete submission from you, constantly. If you give him lip, you're giving him a problem, and every instance of you being an issue pushes you further into "disposable" edible territory.

The part of my brain that craves submission is absolutely infatuated with the idea of a man who would kill for disobedience. I recognize this part of me is not grounded in reality, its more like a supreme power fantasy.

Johnny would struggle to show affection, and if you need affection, you'll have to settle for the look in his eyes when he's pussy drunk.

He will cuddle you, but it's never for you. He just likes to possess you.

Johnny will never tell you he loves you unless he's at absolute ecstacy levels of pleasure. And even then, if you say anything about it, he'll tell you he didn't mean it, and treat you like shit for being stupid enough to believe what he says when fucking you.

He is supremely possessive. I consider this a good thing, but most women would probably hate not being allowed to have friends, never speaking to a male, covering up unless he was with you, and dealing with his paranoia.

He needs to keep track of your every moment of every day. If you forget to tell him where you're going, even if its just to the mailbox, he will become extremely irate.

Johnny is abusive. He will slap, beat, spit on, degrade, and straight up leave you locked in a room if he feels like you deserve it. And "deserving" it could mean as little as not having dinner ready when he gets home.

Speaking of that, if he keeps you around the house, you better keep it spotless. Johnny might not be the most cleanly man in the world, but he expects you to keep everything in order. He will use your making a mess as an excuse to beat you.

Don't expect that he will ever let you leave the house. He might take you out around the house, but he will likely never take you on a date and especially not out of town.

Johnny is my safe space to express my desire for the penultimate submission. When he says, "Die for me!" I feel like I would be happy dying if it was by his hand. I recognize being with a man like Johnny would make me into a mere shadow of him, with everything in my life revolving around him and his goals, his happiness, his pleasure.

I hear people say "I could fix him!" But in my mind, in the darkest recesses of my desire, I wouldn't want to change him. Which is why I'm absolutely in love, and thrilled he doesn't exist, because then, I'm not sure I could resist.

#johnny slaughter #johnny sawyer #texas chainsaw massacre game #tcm game #texas chainsaw game #tcm #tcm smut #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter headcanon #slasher x reader #tw abuse

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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

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CHAINSAW & HAPPINESS

PILL 3 - GREAT GENESIS / GENESIS DEI

YANDERE! CSM! VARIOUS x STOIC! READER

“Check it out. These are my kids.”

“Oh yeah? Check out my kids.”

“That’s just Denji and Power . . .”

“Exactly.”

CAUTIONS: Spoilers for the Manga. Yandere Themes. Chainsawman Themes. Religious Themes. God uses he/him pronouns.

INGREDIENTS: You reminisce about the past and think about what lies ahead in your future. Denji gets his ass almost eaten by Batman- I mean a Bat Devil. Power.

FORMULATION: horridly unedited

[previous dose] [pillbox] [next dose]

You’ve hated humanity since the moment of your conception.

One might argue it was baked into your existence as a devil, simply etched into your heart the moment you popped out of hell, but you couldn’t agree with that notion at all.

It was just how persistent they were with survival and self-preservation that whatever your peers do to oppress them, torture their very souls, devour their physical being, they still manage to cling unto hope.

They were like cockroaches, ones with wings and the unending urge to fly towards your face like if they ever stopped they’d die.

Humans don’t hate cockroaches when they’re born, just like how you don’t hate humans when you were created. You merely saw them as pests you’d rather have gone. At least, that’s what you thought.

It was when you met Makima that you realized it wasn’t hatred you were feeling. It was envy.

You were envious of how they managed to find the grit to move forward. Of how they’re able to shake off tragedies and get stronger.

Unlike you, who had stayed stagnant for as long as you’ve remembered. Too scared to ever go out of line and potentially lose everything you already had.

As the God Devil, you were both one of the strongest and the weakest devils there existed.

Many feared your name, sure. But people found God equally, if not moreso, a comfort through trying times. God was their salvation, no matter how invisible, or inactive he was in their battles. Humanity continued to pray in his name, your name.

But slowly, but surely, faith began to disappear. And your powers began to grow.

You never believed in Makima’s goals. Nor do you believed in her feelings towards you to be genuine. You fully know that she’s using you for her desire; a family and most importantly the eradication of everything bad in this world. Her jealousy was probably based on the fact that she saw you more as a possession, a precious tool than a real partner.

You see, much like the Chainsaw Devil’s ability to erase concepts from this world, you also had a few unique abilities of your own. The ability to remember everything in the course of humanity’s life on Earth. Even the parts the “Hero of Hell” removed and bring it back to existence. Your head was akin to an infinite book, you nicknamed ‘The Bible’.

Where the Chainsaw Devil was the definition of chaos and destruction, you represented peace and life.

And you loathed that. Despised how different you were from other devils. Detested the thought that you were anything but an avatar of fear.

In any case, amalgams were one of the examples of things you’ve partly brought back to the world. It’s original name seemingly inaccessible even to your hands. Though it was mostly done as an excuse for you to use your powers whenever, you had a feeling Makima thought of Denji and Pochita when asking you to revive those mongrels. Or may be not. Makima was confusing and mysterious that way.

You didn’t pry much into her plans. Only ever preparing yourself for the shitstorms her actions cause and brave through it.

But now curiosity ate at you like leech. Why was she allowing Denji so close to you like that? Was it truly because she wants to play him like a fiddle?

Why did the thought of her hurting him hurt you so badly?

“You’re going to break it.”

Angel poked your nose. His touch, with how rare he gave out, almost broke your seemingly invincible composure.

“The weapon. Don’t. It’s such a hassle to make one.”

“My apologies.” You said, as you crushed the sword Angel made within your hands. Expression devoid from your features.

The latter sighed, you were as insufferable as ever.

“Could you stop being so polite and rigid? It’s gross.”

“You know I can’t use casual language in front of them. To the committee, you’re a demon and I’m . . . ” You were about to say ‘one of them’ but you couldn’t shake the sense of otherness you’d feel whenever you were with your colleagues. It wasn’t as if they viewed you as an outcast per se, just that they seemed so nervous all the time. Which led to you avoiding contact especially during battle. You weren’t oblivious to how humans viewed and often worshipped you, you just didn’t know the extent your powers affected them. Especially those who have known you for quite a while.

And so Makima helped by pairing you with beings who are usually unaffected by your aura. At least, on the surface.

“Still. I’d prefer if you went back to how you were before.”

You knew Angel before you even met Makima, as what the two of you represented were both closely related. Despite that, your relationship remained symbiotic at most. Angel’s weapons worked best when wielded by you, and you were capable of taking away his memories and ‘sins’ thus making the number of voices in his head less burdensome. None of you made an effort to go beyond that.

Your Bible ability allowed you to remember everything even beyond your current incarnation.

But Angel knew that while you will remember him if you ever died, the emotions attached to said memories will surely disappear.

He’ll remain that, just a memory. He was content with that. In fact, that’s why Makima trusted him enough with you.

“Charismatic? Proud? A perfect example of what it is to be a devil?”

“An asshat.” Angel munched on the human blood sausage you prepared him. Well, the sausage Makima forced you to make as to fulfill your ‘wifely’ duties, that you gave to Angel since you disliked the taste of it. “But a predictable one.” His androgynous voice came out muffled as he basically scarfed down the piece of meat

“It’s fine to admit that you’re a masochist, Angel.”

“If I’m a masochist—“ He squeezed on the barbecue stick holding the sausage, about to give you the rebuttal of the century (or so he thinks) until your husband unfortunately arrived to the scene.

Oh right! Did I mention you and Angel were atop a massive pile of human and devil corpses? I didn’t? Huh, my bad. Kinda hard remembering to say that stuff when the stench is awfully, well, awful.

“I’m sorry to cut your reunion short, but your new team requires your supervision.” Makima’s signature calm and collected voice slices viciously between your conversation. You can sense the underlying malice from a mile away at this point.

“You want me to stalk your hero from the shadows again.”

Makima didn’t reply, but her usual eerie smile said a thousand words. She didn’t like you getting too close to humans. Sure, it was fine for them to cling unto hope that you’ll ever notice them, it was fun seeing the light disappearing from their eyes as they find out such a thing will never happen. But you indulging your supposed dogs with more than a glance killed her.

In other words, if she was like that with humans, she was the worst — absolutely abhorred — you making conversation with another one of your kind.

To her, humans will never be threats. Devils on the other hand . . .

Well, she supposes even they don’t stand a chance. But she preferred knowing that even without her powers, you were all hers.

She trusted Angel, sure, but she’ll never like seeing her wife with someone else.

“Well then, underling. I will see you soon.”

“I hope not.” Angel blew a strand of hair off his face. He’s had enough of your presence already. Too much and he’ll build up an appetite for it.

“So . . . Sea Cucumber Devil, huh?” You started. Your silent appearance startled Denji and caused him to almost fall off the rooftop, if it weren’t for you catching him by the wrist in time.

Yeah, you weren’t really good at starting conversations.

“[Y-[Y-[Y/N]—! I mean —“ Denji stared at the connected skin. It had only just been a day, and he was already back to acting like hormonal teen who’d never been touched around you.

“C’mere.” You pulled him towards your form. His face landed on your chest, turning awfully red. After making sure he wasn’t falling anymore, you propped his legs over your left arm and carried him bridal style.

You landed on the ground following a single jump. Your heels (courtesy of Makima’s thinly veiled threats) clicking loudly.

You looked at Denji and smiled.

Then dropped him on the massive purple disarray.

“G-god . . ?” The girl, with peach-blonde hair and horns known as ‘Power’ from the info debriefed to you, halted her maniacal laughter. Her mouth opened up in shock and a little bit of horror? Could she sense you were . . . no she couldn’t. Makima wouldn’t allow a newbie to know.

“Close enough.” You shrugged. You had to discuss this with your spouse later. Spotting a bench behind Power, you made your way past her. A cool chill crawled up her spine, who were you? You felt like that devil but at the same time you were nothing like them at all. Not to mention you weren’t as stuck up as she remembered. . .

Nah, they wouldn’t help humans. You were probably a phony of some sort.

“So, what happened?” You sat down, holding off the cringe on your face that threatened to show from unhygienic everything is. Maybe Aki’s ways were rubbing off on you.

They began blaming eachother, clearly not aware that you were there for the latter half of your journey and only gave them an opportunity to explain themselves rather than point fingers.

“You know I can’t stop Makima if she so chooses to punish you two, right?”

“Please don’t tell her!”

“Yeah, this won’t happen again. We promise!”

“I have a feeling it will.” You sighed.

“If I’m correct . . .” You stood up from the bench, and gave your behind a few pats to relieve it of dust and whatever filthy things people have put there. You looked to Power, narrowing your eyes at the way she flinched away, “Your reason for being cooperative with humans is because you want your cat back.”

“And you, aside from being paired with me, want a chance to touch someone’s breasts, am I wrong?” You turned to Denji.

“No, you aren—“

“You were not given permission to speak, dog.” You glared at him. Though your expressions softened the moment he almost whimpered at your harsh words.

Not knowing that was him preventing a moan of pleasure.

“Why don’t we make a contract per se, right now?Denji, you get to touch Power’s boobs as long as you’re able to procure her Meowy.” You grabbed his hands, hovered it over your chest for a couple of moments, and observed his face. He was absolutely drooling.

You retracted your hold and swiveled your head to Power’s direction, taking laid-back, slow steps.

“And, if you two come back in one piece and with no casualities. I’ll join your next mission and prevent this . . . “ You bent your torso to the side in order to look past the pair and unto the purple sludge and multitude of organs on the street. “Mishap from reaching Ms. Makima’s ears. Is it a deal?”

“Deal!” Power nodded repeatedly, fist clenched in excitement. A stark contrast to her almost aloof personality with Denji.

“Good.” You flicked your finger, and in just a moment, every part of the Sea Cucumber Devil’s corpse disappeared. “Try not to disappoint. Makima has big plans for the two of you.”

Denji and Power left, not before gawking at your unintentional show of prowess.

“They’re gone. You meeting with those prunes again?” Speak of the devil and she shall come. You rotated your body to see what’s behind you, unsurprisingly spotting Makima.

“You jealous?”

“I am. Very.”

“You were listening in on us?”

“I just want to know what my husband is up to. Can’t I miss you?”

“You can.” Makima stepped in front of you, leaning close to your face to take a kiss. However, you covered the lower half of her face before she could get too close.

The two of you hear a car arrive not long after, with an Aki Hayakawa inside of it, “Ms. Makima. Mx. [Y/N].”

He escorted you and Makima to her destination and then brought you to a cafe to order some drinks.

You looked around for any pests, and checked if background noise’s volume was loud enough to drown out your voices before you began, “You’re wondering why too, aren’t you?”

“You . . . are surprisingly sharp when it comes to some things [Y/N].”

“I’m not quite adept at recognizing sentiment or intention. That doesn’t mean I’m completely unaware.”

You ordered black coffee and a few desserts and continued, “Whatever she’s planning. I don’t know. But I do know it wouldn’t be great for anyone in the division.”

You stared at the sweet confectionery’s as the workers were stressing out beyond the display, “My powers only extend up to the past. The infinite future ahead is anyone’s guess.”

Aki sighed, even you weren’t aware of what Makima was thinking.

“How did you become. . . “

“Become an amalgam?”

“. . .I’m sorry for the disrespect.”

“I don’t remember.” You finally answered. Your words barely registered above a whisper. But Aki has and will always hear it better than any other sound.

He guessed your memory of your merging was probably given away in a contract and is a sensitive subject.

The two of you return to the car in silence, waiting for Makima’s return.

Once she was back in, and you’ve given her the coffee and food, Aki started up the vehicle and began heading back to HQ.

The silence between the three of you was killing him so he decided to take a shot in the dark and ask Makima of her intentions. Surprisingly, she took the bait, somewhat.

“All Devils were born with names. The scarier the name is, the more powerful it is.” She commenced her speech.

“Take coffee for example, it doesn’t really have a scary image. If there was a coffee devil out there it must be weak.” She drew her eyes to the shaky state of the beverage and made no effort to cover the cup. Then she looked outside the window, to the cars and city scenery, “A car on the other hand, it gives you the image of being run over. That might be a stronger one.”

“Denji can turn into the chainsaw devil. I just think it’s pretty interesting.” And he could potentially erase anything she deemed unnecessary, which was infinitely more than interesting.

“He’s interesting, but he’s of no use to us. Everyone in the division has a goal or faith. He has neither of those. He’s not cut out for this. Not to mention he thinks he can befriend devils.” Aki bit his lip. Denji was nothing in comparison to the rest of the Public Safety sector. He had no experience, no sense of duty, was a slob and pervert.

And yet the stars of the workplace put their trust on him on just a whim, a flight of fancy. “He’s just a kid.”

“We shouldn’t judge a caterpillar when it hasn’t finished chrysalis, or an egg that has yet to hatch.” Taking Aki’s focus on the road as an opportunity, Makima slid her hand atop yours,“The kid. One day he’ll be a man. And he’ll be your junior to use. Yours to throw at the devils that destroyed your life.”

“Give him enough time with devils.” Her visage faced yours, and she smiled.

It terrified you.

“He’ll learn to hate them. Like every human should.”

You looked away, choosing to fill your mind with something else by checking in on Denji. Your eyes widened at the state he found himself in with just a few hours outside your supervision, “Turn on the radio.”

Aki doesn’t even think before his hands reached out to follow your command.

“Bat Devil spotted fighting with a Chainsaw Devil down at . . . “

“Hayakawa. Prepare your team to dispatch the Bat Devil immediately.” Makima downed the coffee in her hand while you basically inhaled your food.

“Understood.”

A/N: First part of my surgery is finished! Might be a week or so for the next ;u; i am in pain

Chainsaw and Happiness Taglist: @saharei @kaedescrush @epsi9099 @aradia-melinoe @sleepwillow @rolo-at-midnight @acuriousmoon @moonnotsonaa @just-some-stars @justarandomweeblol @cyn9 @that-one-simp

(please make sure you’re taggable if you reply to be added)

I’m going home after my family celebrates Ramadan and Eid so slow updates until then I’m so sorry

CHAINSAW & HAPPINESS TAGLIST: @saharei @kaedescrush @epsi9099 @aradia-melinoe @sleepwillow @nordithus @rolo-at-midnight @acuriousmoon @moonnotsonaa @just-some-stars @cyn9 @justarandomweeblol @that-one-simp @somebodyrandom-613

CHAINSAW & HAPPINESS TAGLIST:

Extra Notes: I’ll delete this in case I find better moments to showcase it in the story but to explain [Y/N]’s Bible ability more in depth, you’re basically able to know everything if it has been explicitly stated (Denji’s boob touching desires) or if it can extracted from an event that happened in a being’s life(Power’s relationship with Meowy and subsequent loss of the feline). To counteract how OP this can be, you aren’t able to read minds and are pretty dense + can’t view the future + it has to be activated rather have it on as a passive. In short, you don’t know how obsessed the sector is of you since most of them know of this ability, are pretty careful about how they act in case you decide to probe their past, and you aren’t a creep (i hope). In other words, abilities’s extent is as far as a reader of history knows not the author.

(Also you just aren’t allowed to peer into Makima’s history. We don’t poke sleeping bears, especially if they have the power to control you.)

Chainsaw and Happiness Taglist: @saharei @kaedescrush @epsi9099 @aradia-melinoe @sleepwillow @nordithus @rolo-at-midnight @acuriousmoon @moonnotsonaa @just-some-stars @cyn9 @justarandomweeblol @that-one-simp @somebodyrandom-613 @cupidlot

White names couldn’t be tagged + added a few who just commented if that’s fine?

Thanks for reading!

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thefemalejoker42069 · 9 months

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okay this is gonna be a bit of a long rant (with some SA and CSA mentions so pls don’t read if that will be too much for you rn) but I’ve been thinking a lot about the “male loneliness epidemic” lately and I have some Thoughts ™

we live in very isolating, depressing and scary times. we live in a hyper-individualistic capitalist hellscape that seems to punish people who need community support. and I truly believe that we as humans should try to help each other out in the ways that we are able to.

but I lose 100% of my empathy for lonely depressed men when they start using their own personal issues as an excuse to peddle ideologies that advocate for rape, pedophilia, child marriage, sexual slavery, and even murder of women and girls. I don’t fucking care how sad you are, if you advocate for other humans beings to be subjected to the cruelest treatment possible then you either need to get serious help or die (and not take anyone with you when you do).

you do not have a fucking paramount on suffering. you are not the only ones who experience loneliness. I know you think women get to just pick and choose whichever romantic partner/friends we want, but that is false, and also being seen as nothing but a sex object by men is so incredibly isolating too. that’s not real love and connection, that’s only being valued for what we can provide for men. so many people feel so alone and it genuinely is a big problem.

I was raised in an extremely misogynistic cult that preaches that grown men are not responsible for anything they do to little girls bc “they’re wired that way.” I had very bad things happen to me before I was even old enough to realize what it meant. and you know what the excuse always is? “well it happened to him when he was younger too so he can’t help that he does it to you.” I learned very early that male suffering is viewed as more important than the suffering they inflict on innocent people. and despite going through this, despite seeing nearly every woman in my life go through something similar, despite all of this, I still would never ever sympathize with any ideology that preaches rape, slavery, sex trafficking, pedophilia, white supremacy, etc. and that doesn’t make me some super hero, it makes me a mildly normal person.

so no, nobody “pushed” you into your evil ideologies, nobody made you do that. if true suffering at the hands of the opposite sex is really the root cause of inceldom then almost every single woman I know would be the most insane incel you’d ever meet in your entire life. but they’re not, even though many of them are lonely and long for true companionship, none of them feel so angry and entitled to it that they want to murder and rape men or little boys. not a single one. the root cause of inceldom is, and always has been, male entitlement. men who were raised to believe the world and every woman in it exists to serve them in some way, but then grew up and realized that actually nobody is owed sex and you don’t get to force women to marry you and have kids, because we are human beings who deserve to be happy too. and this makes them so mad that they start thinking it’s okay to do whatever they want to whoever they want, because after all, nobody on planet earth could ever suffer as much as incels do when a woman tells them no.

I’m fucking sick of it. stop saying “they pushed me to this” and start taking even an ounce of accountability for your deranged, entitled mindset.

#radblr #radical feminism #radical feminists please touch #radical feminist community #I cooked here tbh #male entitlement #male violence #tw csa mention

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natelia-aldelliz · 1 year

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More ghost! Roach - Accidental Necromancer Soap AU : little moments

141 in the middle of a briefing, when suddenly Soap gasps, interrupting Price. Everyone turns to look at him and he looks back like a deer in headlights, apologises with a stammered excuse, something like he saw a spider or something, and the meeting continues with dubious looks.

"You're so bad at that," Roach giggles from where he's floating around above the table. "It wasn't even that big of a news, they were flirting for months! I have way worse, you know one of the Corporals under your command, the redhead one? She's been secretely married for years to the medic lady that stitched you up last week! Stop gaping at me, where's your pokerface oh my god-"

And then Soap uses all that information to win bets against Gaz.

Or also, Roach telling jokes while there's people around Soap. "Don't laugh," he taunts him. "Don't even smile or they'll know you're crazier than they think."

And then he tells the worst joke ever and Soap can't help the snort that escapes him and again, everyone turns to look at him.

"I can't believe you're laughing in a room full of explosives tied to people," Roach gasps, knowing full well that's exactly the result he wanted.

Soap rolls his eyes at him quickly and focuses back on defusing. He'll get him back when they're alone and he doesn't look weird talking to the air.

"He knows you find him hot, he's neither blind nor stupid," Roach says, peeking above Ghost's shoulder. "If you want him to blush you need to call him 'pretty'. Worked every time..."

And he's right. When Soap tells Ghost he's a bonnie lad, explains what it means, it's very obvious how flustered he becomes, and the visible part of the bridge of his nose gets very red.

"Be ready to be grabbed at every opportunity, his love language is physical touch but he'd rather die than admit it."

Roach has a bit of a poltergeist moment when he finds out he can touch things again. Cups go flying into walls, chairs move around, shoes disappear. Roach is very overwhelmed and gets non verbal, which is a bit hard because Soap only knows the basics of BSL and has to ask Ghost to translate by copying live what Roach is saying. (Ghost, who has seen the ghost of his dead lover save his life just a day before objects started flying, recognising in the back of his mind the quirks of Roach's way of signing being reproduced by Soap, but not willing to believe yet)

It lasts a few days and the whole base is convinced they're haunted by a ghost. They're not wrong, Soap wants to say. And not only one, but the others are far more apathetic, barely there.

Then Roach calms down, all at once, when he realises that maybe... maybe he can touch people too. He's very nervous. It's been years since he touched someone, years of his hand going through Ghost's arm as he tried to make him see him. Years of not feeling the warmth of a living being.

That scares him. What if he can touch Soap, but he doesn't feel anything? What if it feels the same as the glasses he's been trying to juggle for days?

So he waits until Soap is asleep and he holds out his finger, slowly, hands trembling, and presses it softly to Soap's forehead. He's... He's warm, he realises with a gasp. He's warm!

Soap wakes up to sobbing and soft fingers on his cheeks and in his hair. He gets reassured very quickly that it's happy sobbing and Roach kisses him.

Ghost, after learning about the ghosts existence, starts having really bad nightmares every night. Has to be reassured that no, he's not actually a ghost. He hasn't actually died in that grave, he's here, he's warm and he's alive and loved.

#cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghostroach #soaproach #ghostsoaproach #accidental necromancer soap and ghost roach au #oh imagine soap saying 'excuse me' walking around someone in the corridor and the other people looking at him like ? bc there's no one #because it was just a ghost walking around and he didn't realise #gaz going 'cap i think there's something wrong with soap' 'yeah i know he ate all your cereals...' 'no no something actually wrong as in #horror movie wrong he speaks to people who don't exist' '... and your first thought is horror movie? before ptsd or schizophrenia or smth?'#'yes i know he's... well i'm pretty sure he's fine he's just speaking with ghosts i'm sure of it'#and soap - sweating - being like 'ahah speaking with ghosts? me? ahah ghosts don't even exist what are you talking about ahah?'#and gaz just looking at price like see? see how bad he's lying? and price thinking it's such a bad lie that it's probably a joke

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icearts · 3 months

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A couple things about Sonic Prime that disappointed me

1. Shadow was in almost the entire trailer, but showed up for 3 out of the 7 episodes

2. An action scene that lasted for three episodes. It got redundant

3. There was an entire plot point where Sonic was dying from the prism energy being taken from him. This took 3 minutes of screen time and the risk felt minimal if it was there at all

4. No consequences = no stakes (literally there was no issue or "sacrifice" that came out of repairing the prism. Idk what i was hoping for, but the fact that everything was so easily fixed kinda hurt my feelings because it made the entirety of season 2 seem completely pointless and dumb)

5. Shadow was super protective of Sonic in the first episode, but never showed that same "Would kill and die for you in a seconds notice" energy he had in that first episode

6. The chaos emerald is mentioned again but never used as a plot point. Chekov's Gun is fake, apparently

7. It's said that Sonic can't exist in the Shatterspace without prism energy, but Shadow never had it in the first place. There is no provided explanation as to why this makes sense. The closest thing was "shadow wasn't there during the blast" but that only explains why he doesn't have the energy, not why he doesn't need it to live like Sonic does (I assume the others have at least a signature of it too which is why they cloned and Shadow didn't. Again this is unexplained in Prime. What does the prism energy even do for/to the supporting cast)

8. Why are there only 7 episodes? Why do they take up so much time in one place?

9. Rouge and Shadow only had one line of dialogue (this isn't a genuine critique I just wanted to see my favorite duo be a duo)

10. Sonic's Prism "Super Form" doesn't come back. Shadow doesn't get anything like that either. Another dud Chekov Gun. Why is this dumb little anecdotal metaphorical firearm never firing

I really loved the new season, and it was great and super fun, but those critiques really ruined some things because those were all things I thought would be a guarantee because of the trailer and because of how the other seasons were.

Why would they even bother to mention the chaos emerald, and this weird void thing if it wasn't going to be essential to the plot other than being an excuse to sideline Shadow. They could have just as easily said that chaos energy is neutralized in cyberspace because it's not connected to the world/chaos/master emerald. That works too!

Plus, why was Shadow sidelined so much? What's the reason? Why wasn't he allowed to use chaos energy and go apeshit? Why couldn't he take off his inhibitor rings in a desperate situation to protect Sonic and be able to teleport into shatterspaces even at the expense of his health?

I know it's a TV-Y7 show. It honestly did not need to be, but I'm sure it was a Netflix mandate to make sure their animation is all meant for kids and only kids, but they really ended up nerfing themselves by alienating their more passionate audience which would be teenagers and adults. Just make it TV PG that would've allowed you to work with higher stakes and a higher budget (oh wait that's what Netflix's intention was nevermind).

If you wanna see me make a list of things I genuinely liked, feel free to ask or comment that. I might do so anyway. I feel like the internet is too negative and critiques of shows tend to do too much of that, so sorry for contributing to that culture, but I really needed to get that disappointment out because it bothered me quite a bit. Feel free to disagree too, or say "bro it's a kids show. It's not that deep. Stop having passion and emotions for your special interests you dumb fuck" I get it. Anyways, good show, good season, highly recommend, it's very fun and enjoyable especially if you're a fan of Sonic

Last minute edit: I only saw the season once and my sense of media literacy isn't by any means perfect, and also, to clarify, most of my concern isn't quite "these plot points are 1000% absent and terrible" and more "I thought the distribution between the action scene in episodes 4-7 and the rest of the season's story was very poor and made the content I was more excited for seem watered down/unplanned/super easily resolved". Again the part of the show where Sonic almost dies because of the prism energy withdrawal was about 3 minutes long. Why did it feel so low-stakes?? I love action scenes. They're great, but when you dedicate over 30 minutes to one long fight scene, it becomes less interesting and there's still MORE OF THE SHOW TO GET THROUGH so those parts got super rushed

#sonic #sonic prime season 3 #sonic prime #sonic prime spoilers #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sth #breaking news: some random guy on the internet rants for an hour complaining about a kids show. never before seen live on television

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barcaracing · 10 months

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bye you’re one of the best writers on here for pedri😭 could i request a one where his girlfriend meets his parents and brother for the first time at a football match?? You’re amazing!!!

pairing: pedri x fem!reader

warnings: none

a/n: ahh tysm :,))<3 sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask, i have no excuse. i’m just bad at checking my inbox and great at forgetting tumblr exists. hope u like this one!

******

"Mi vida, I love you, you know I do, but if you don't stop bouncing your leg, I will swerve into Lewy's car and we'll both die with no money and a lawsuit for a legacy." Pedri puts his hand on your thigh while looking over his shoulder to reverse the car into the parking spot. Meeting your eyes, he winks. "And that's usually not what football players get sued for."

You can't help but laugh, pushing his shoulder lightly before forcing yourself to relax. You know there's no reason to be nervous about meeting his family, especially since they're probably the nicest people on this planet given that they literally raised your boyfriend, the kindest and most down-to-earth person you know. But that doesn't change the fact that you need them to love you. There's literally no other option. It's either that or death.

"Sorry," you say sheepishly, glancing at the expensive vehicle parked next to you. You're not sure how much it's worth, but getting sued by the striker for property damage would probably leave you dirt-poor. "He wouldn't actually sue you for hitting his car, right?" You muse. "It's not like needs the money. Or the car."

Pedri shakes his head. "No, but he'd do it to get back at me for flinging the gymnastic ball at his face yesterday."

"Oh," you say, wincing. "Sounds fair."

Pedri snorts and turns off the engine before unbuckling himself. He turns to you with a gentle smile and those big, earnest eyes of his and you feel your heart stutter.

"Ready?" He says and for a second you need to remind yourself that he didn’t ask if you wanted to run away with him and start a cute little family on a island somewhere, but if you were ready to leave the car. That silly mind of yours.

"No." You laugh helplessly. "But can't back out now, can I?"

"You could," Pedri says slowly, thumb rubbing circles into your thigh. "But they'll love you. You've talked to Fer on FaceTime and my parents are fond of you already. You have nothing to worry about and there's nothing you could do wrong. I promise.”

You can see that Pedri genuinely means every word, and it warms your heart to know how important this is to him. You're important to him, you realise, and just like that, you'd do anything for him. That’s crazy, right? He really has you wrapped around his finger and that is one mortifying and reassuring realisation to have right before meeting his parents. Leaning forward, you capture his lips in a kiss before mirroring his smile when you pull back.

"What if I start cheering for Atlético?" You ask innocently.

Pedri pecks your lips again. He pulls the keys out of the ignition and pats your knee, the metal feeling cold against your skin. "Then I'll sue you for property damage."

"What did I damage?"

"My heart."

You burst out laughing. Pedri shoots you a cheeky grin before exiting the car and a moment later, the door on your side opens. You step out, shaking your head at your boyfriend's crooked smile. "That was horrible."

Pedri closes the door and pulls you closer by the loop on your pants, pressing a kiss into your hair. "Anything to hear that pretty laugh of yours." He leaves his hand on the small of your back and rubs the familiar fabric of his kit between his fingers. "Nice kit," he comments as you make your way to the entrance.

"Thanks." You hum, looking down at it. "I wanted to get Gavi's but they didn't have it in-store so I got this. Player 8 is alright."

Cutting you a sideways glare, Pedri pinches your skin, making you yelp. "I take it back. You're horrible." He crosses his arms. "I hope they dislike you and Fer pushes you down the stairs."

You look at him with wide eyes. "Pedri!"

"That's what you get. I hope you get a good tumble in. Toppling down those steps like a cartoon character until there are birds flying over your head." He manages to keep a straight face for a moment longer before he completely dissolves into giggles. Like actual giggles and it's the cutest thing you've ever seen even if you want to kick him.

You both come to a slow halt at the entrance. It leads to the changing rooms, but you need to go through another door to get to your seats. Mikky and the others are probably already inside and so is his family, which is honestly terrifying to think about. You really wish Pedri could at least come with you to introduce you or just stand there and look pretty, but he's already running late.

"I'm sorry," Pedri says with a hint of remaining laughter. He takes both your hands into his and meets your gaze. "Just breathe, yeah? You'll be fine, princesa. My parents and brother will finally meet the beautiful, smart, funny, and kind girl that I've been talking about since March. It’ll be special." He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. For a moment, all you hear is his heartbeat and things don't seem as dire anymore.

“I’m excited to meet them too, amor," you say softly and pull back to kiss him, whispering against his lips, "Go win this, campéon. We'll be cheering the loudest in there." You poke his side. "Only if I don't crack open my skull and bleed out on those stairs, of course. You fucking sadist."

Pedri chuckles and lowers his face into the nape of your neck, shoulders shaking with laughter. After some encouraging words and a few more kisses, you part ways and find yourself moving on autopilot while going to your seats. Weirdly, it calms you. Camp Nou always has. You've walked through these halls so many times now and every time, you feel like nothing bad could happen at a place this magical.

Your heart gets stuck in your throat anyway when you approach your seats and a familiar-looking dark-haired boy in a Barca kit takes one look at you and his whole face lights up. "Y/N, hola!"

This gets the attention of Pedri's parents, who spin around and immediately greet you with warm smiles and kisses on the cheek. "It is so nice to finally meet you," Rosy says, hugging you tighter. "Pedri has told us so much about you."

"He really did," his father teases, giving you a hug as well. "Can't get him to shut up even if we wanted to."

You laugh, feeling your face heat up at his words. "He's been telling me so much about you all as well, I'm so happy we finally get to meet." Rosy squeezes your arm and Fer flashes you a smile so familiar, it makes you feel like you can actually, genuinely do this. "So when did you arrive? I hope you haven't been waiting for too long."

"Oh, not at all," Pedri’s father replies, "we just got here ourselves. We were hoping to talk to Pedri before the match, but it's fine. We'll see him afterwards."

"About that," Rosy swoops in, and you notice how soft her voice is. “We were hoping to go out to dinner with you two if that's alright with you both. And if you don't have other plans, of course."

You shake your head, warming up to the idea of spending more time with them. "We'd love to join you. Especially after that lunch fiasco today."

"That's great," Rosy answers at the same time that Fernando asks,

"What happened at lunch?"

Sighing, you shake your head and sink to your seat. "It's too terrible to talk about." You glance at them conspicuously before leaning forward as if to share a secret. God knows where the confidence suddenly comes from. "Pedri tried to cook for us."

Horrified gasps meet your statement.

"What did he make?" says Rosy, sounding concerned. "I'm so sorry, mi niña."

"Don't ever let him do that again if you don’t want to get food poisoning. He cooked for me once and I nearly saw the light," Fer warns with a shake of his head.

"Pedri can cook?" Fernando asks, looking extremely confused.

“Can’t,” all three if you say at the same time.

“Oh.” He blinks. “Well, that’s a shame considering we have a restaurant.”

“At least he’s got football going for him. Plus, a beautiful girl who eats his deadly food,” Rosy says.

“Ah.” Fer sighs. “Young love.”

You join their laughter and let your gaze wander down to the pitch as more players start warming up. Honestly, you haven’t even noticed that they’ve come out, but you suppose that can only mean that you’ve gotten along pretty well so far with Pedri’s family, which is a good thing. Very good.

Your eyes land on your boyfriend, who is already looking up at where you’re sitting with his parents and brother. There’s a wide smile stretching across his face and when he gives a wave, you all cheer and wave back. Pedri’s eyes meet yours and you could swear there’s a twinkle in them. He holds up a thumb and arches an eyebrow.

Smiling brightly, you nod and mirror his thumbs up. A dopey grin break out on his face and he touches his lips to send you a kiss. It’s embarrassing how you can’t even pretend not to be absolutely giddy and smitten by this.

You are quick to send a kiss back, which he catches and presses into chest while walking backwards, eyes still locked onto yours. He nearly trips over a ball and you can’t help but laugh, his parents and brother joining in and teasing the both of you relentlessly. The smile your face is hard to wipe off. You really had nothing to worry about.

*****

feedback is always appreciated, stay hydrated kids :)

#pedri one shot #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedri x y/n #pedri #pedri fluff #pedri x you #pedri gonzalez #pedri fanfic #pedri fic #fc barca #fc barcelona fanfic #fc barca fanfic #pedri blurb

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dragonrider9905 · 28 days

Text

Celebrating You!

Hi guys! I’ve been on here for a bit now and while I never had a follower goal, I do appreciate you guys who have decided to follow me! So now I’d like to celebrate you!

In light of TBB ending, and how much we'll be missing the boys, I thought this was as good as a time as ever!

Here’s the idea! I’m opening a prompt request for the dates of April 5th through May 5th, 2024 (you may start submitting now though!) and choose from the prompts below! You can choose one from each category, or just one category. It’s ok if it is just the prompt or the prompt and a brief idea. If you have a fun idea or prompt not listed, please share!

Rules: I only write SFW. I typically write for clones; I reserve the right to refuse requests which make me uncomfortable for whatever reason. I have had a few requests in the past that really unsettled me for various reasons. Or if I don't know the character. I'd hate to try to write something then upset the person because it is so ooc that it's cringy. (But if I said I would write your request and haven't yet, I just honestly haven't gotten to it :D I like to do well on the stories you guys entrust to me so it does take me a bit :D)

This is supposed to be fun so lets keep it fun!

You may submit as many requests as you'd like! The more the merrier!

Characters: Star Wars Clone Wars or The Bad Batch (as long as I know them. I know a lot of clones but alas, not all.)

Story genre:

Classic SW! (Pick an era if they exist in more than one if you wish)

AU of choice (modern, western, pirate, mermaid, time traveling, etc if I’m unfamiliar with the genre, I may have to change it or request more details)

Dialogue Prompts:

“Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

“If we’re going to do this we’ll need—“ “A plan?” “No! Code names! Cool ones!”

“I don’t need to be anything to you. I just want my life to mean more to you than my death.”

“You are playing a dangerous game without even a glimpse of the rule book.”

“I’ve never been terrified of death, til he set his sights on you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” “Yeah, you’re not allowed to ask that in this situation.”

“Where’s your shoe?” “The giant mud puddle in the road demanded a sacrifice.”

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist.” “Then how else do I describe the feeling I got when I first saw you?” “You…love me?” “Apparently not, according to you.”

“A fate worse than death….” “They’re burnt cupcakes.”

“White paint has more color than your face.”

“Why is there a dragon in my fridge?” “It was hot.”

“Touch **, and you’re dead.”

“I am the law.”

“Do that again and I’ll throw you out the window. Wait, what are you doing?” “Checking how high the drop is; seeing if it’s worth it.”

“I’d rather have you hate me than loose you entirely.”

“I have a mission but don’t know what it is.” “Well that sounds incredibly counterproductive.”

“I would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulties in your life.” “You are the worst at this comforting thing.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this but I’m quite petite.” “Really? I had no idea in our twelve years of friendship that you’re shorter than I am.”

“But what is power?” “Loyalty.”

“Don’t you sign to me in that tone.”

“I’m with him/her for better or worse.” “It’ll probably be worse.” “I knew that the day I met him/her.”

"I'm sorry I tried to kill you." "It's fine, but next time you should try harder."

"C'mon, like I need an excuse to spend time with you."

"You're not as bad as everyone says you are."

"The only one who gets to kill you is me."

“blood loss”? well it’s not lost. I know exactly where it went. right over there.”

“How the mighty have fallen!” “It’s a dropped chocolate bar, stop being dramatic.”

“Shit, we’re gonna die” “Now I don’t want to hear that negative attitude, look on the bright side!” “Yay! We’re gonna die! Woo!”

“How do you do it?” “How do I do what?” “Pretend you are ok.” “I’m not pretending.” “Yes, you are. Every single day and it breaks my heart.”

“Hey, so I know things are pretty f**** shitty right now but I need you to breathe for me.” “Wha-wh-wh-” “You’re having a panic attack. It’s gonna be ok. Just breathe with me.”

“Please, my arms—I can’t wipe my tears, don’t let them see!”

"Smiles are contagious!" "Don't worry, I'm vaccinated."

"I don't want to get involved, it's too risky." "Please do it for me, you're the only one I can turn to." "It's not worth it. You really want to lose everything? 'cause I don't."

"Do you ever think of anyone other than yourself?" "No"---a long pause---"actually yes, at Christmas time"

"There is a reason I go through that door first, It's to make sure everyone else walks back out"

“I can’t leave you here!” “You can and you will.”

"OH! Are you alright? Are you alright?" "Apart from being trapped under here, and maybe suffering from broken bones and embarrassment beyond what I am capable of handling. . . I'm dandy, why do you ask?"

Oh no, are you alright? You're covered in blood!" "Yes, it's yours, Now will you please let me take you to the hospital?"

"What did love ever do anything for anyone anyway?"

"What the hell were you even thinking?!" "You told me not to think!"

"With love comes loss, that's part of the deal. Sometimes it hurts, but in the end, it was all worth it. There's no greater gift than love."

“'Temporary stitches' all stitches are temporary if you have a pair of scissors and aren’t a coward" "What do you....that better not mean what I think you mean......" "Am I just talking about sewing stitches or sutures too? Maaayyybe?" "NO! Absolutely not!"

"I made the calculations, and boy am I bad at math."

"It'll be over soon, I promise."

"Working together again, just like old times." "Well, not just like old times."

"I am many things but not your enemy."

Action Prompts:

Forehead kisses

Palm/hand kisses

Dramatic rain scene

Touching foreheads

Jealousy

Dancing

Last stand

Christmas/Life Day celebration

mistletoe

Accidental hand touch

First date

First kiss

Spending time with the family

Bad day cheering up scheme

Pranks

Going to a pet shop

Going to the movies

Always go after the girl

soft spoken person has loud, unnerving scream.

Lullabies

Nightmares

injury

amnesia

pretend/mistaken to be married/in a relationship

cooking

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beanghostprincess · 2 months

Text

Usopp has never celebrated Valentine's Day. And it's not that he hasn't had the chance, because he has. In fact, Kaya was always the one saying they should be doing something together, even as friends. But... But Usopp has never liked it? He knows saying that out loud would cause a world war inside the crew because he's aware of how beloved the day is for some of them. But it's just... Isn't it dumb? He thinks it's basically just another way capitalism and big corporations have of taking people's money. If you truly love somebody, you show it every day, not just on a random day in February. Besides, his mom always seemed a bit sad and lonely this time of the year, and Usopp never liked thinking about his parents this way.

But Sanji? Sanji adores it. It's a day of joy and love and he has an excuse to give Nami and Robin flowers and chocolate without being seen as weird. It's still weird but, you know, less weird because now there's a reason behind his actions and they're always just a bit softer on this day. Sanji himself is way softer. He gives Luffy more meat and barely argues with mosshead, and if somebody asks? It's just a day for love. He cannot be bothered to be angry today. His mom loved February 14th. It was one of her favorite days because she kept saying she celebrated all kinds of love, not only the romantic ones. Sanji was always excited to see her at the hospital on those days.

So when they start dating and February comes... They have different reactions to it. It's- It's a bit hard to handle at first.

The sniper realizes it's Valentine's Day right when he wakes up, and he kind of sort of wants to die because he hasn't gotten anything for Sanji and he knows how much this day means to him. Usopp just never thinks about it or remembers until Sanji explicitly screams about it. He blames Nami for not reminding him either. Not that it's her responsibility, but the girl could've helped. Whatever- He's not panicking. He's not. It's a dumb, stupid holiday and there's no need to do anything. He doesn't owe Sanji a Valentine's Day because it's dumb.

Besides. They barely started dating. And Sanji only ever gets gifts to the girls. There's zero chance he's gonna prepare something for Usopp.

Or so he thinks. Because the second he wakes up, there's a box right next to his bunk bed and he knows he's fucked. He doesn't want to open it. He truly doesn't. But if course he does. It's a beret. One he fell in love with a long time ago. Back when they weren't even dating. Back when even the possibility of dating Sanji was just a faint dream. So he- He doesn't even want to ask how the hell Sanji got this or when, but there's so much guilt inside of him that Usopp doesn't want to get out of bed.

But he has to, doesn't he? So he does. And he hates himself a little too much during the whole day. Sanji kisses him oh so sweetly. The pet names are over the charts. The guy won't stop speaking in French, which he knows makes Usopp weak in the knees. He cooks his favorite meals, and aside from the beret, he gives him a bunch of flowers he says he has been growing himself in secret (oh lord, for a botanist that's peak romanticism). And Sanji hasn't even paid much attention to anybody else. Not even the girls. It's as if only Usopp existed. And the thing is-- Usopp is expecting Sanji to throw a tantrum or get angry or be mad about Usopp not doing anything for him.

Sanji doesn't expect anything in return, apparently, and he doesn't seem that bothered about it. That's what ends up fucking up Usopp the most, in the end. Because he knows why Sanji is like that. He knows why Sanji doesn't care about it. He hates it.

He tries to approach the topic subtly:

Usopp: I... Hey, Sanji? Sanji: Yes, mon trésor? Usopp: I'm sorry for not getting you anything for today. It's just- You know Valentine's Day is not my thing and I sort of forgot- Sanji: That's alright. Do you think I'd reduce our relationship to only today? Usopp: No, of coruse not. But, just saying, that if you want to be angry, I don't mind. You have the right to want these romantic things. Sanji: As long as you like what I have planned for you, that's all the gifts I need.

But it doesn't sit right with Usopp. The fact that Sanji never thinks about himself this way and yet keeps showering him with love and gifts instead. So he waits until nighttime because he knows it's Sanji's turn to watch the ship and he knows he'll probably be in the kitchen more often than not. It's not much, but he thinks about something he can do for Sanji.

Everybody is asleep when Sanji finds a letter, a notebook, and flowers on the dining table. While Usopp watches his whole reaction from the door, hoping not to get caught. It's a stupid, overly romantic letter that Usopp has written in no time because whenever he thinks about Sanji, the words just come out of him easily, like a story he never wants to stop telling. The notebook is basically just his sketchbook, and it isn't a gift because it wasn't planned to be one, but it is all the drawings he has made of Sanji over the time they've been together, and Usopp thinks that's way better than just any letter. Meanwhile, the flowers are just the most peaceful and beautiful ones of his garden. The ones he uses more for scents rather than explosives.

It's not the best gift he could've made. It really isn't. But he thinks it's enough to show Sanji that he deserves these things too. He doesn't want his boyfriend to spend any other Valentine's Day assuming he won't be getting any form of love from Usopp.

What the sniper isn't expecting is Sanji to start sobbing all of a sudden. That's when Usopp realizes he needs to step into the kitchen. He's panicking a little while Sanji cries, sitting right next to him and holding his wet cheeks in his hands to check if he's alright. Maybe he has truly fucked up with the gift? Maybe he didn't like it? Perhaps he shouldn't have gotten involved. Fuck. Fuck.

But... But Sanji starts laughing? For some reason? He laughs between tears and grabs Usopp's hands in his and kisses them, holding him close.

Sanji: I'm sorry. Shit. I hate it when I get like this. I'm sorry. I'll stop. Usopp: What? No- No, Sanji. What's wrong? Did you not like it- Sanji: Huh? How could I not like it, dumbass? I'm crying because it's the sweetest, sappiest most romantic thing somebody has made for me and it's from the love of my life. How could I not- Idiot. Shut up. Usopp: I'm... The love of your life? Sanji: Did I not make it clear today? Usopp: Then you... You like it? Sanji: Idiot. Yes. I do. Usopp: Well, then expect all of our Valentine's Days to be like this from now on and forever, because your fantastic boyfriend Usopp will be known as the king of Valentine- Sanji: Dear, I know you love doing that. And I adore it. But the king of Valentine's Day is me and I'm not letting you have the title. Usopp: But we're together. Then that means we're both kings. Sanji: We would if we were married. Usopp: Then... We should- Sanji: Stop right there. Usopp: Huh? Why can't you let me be romantic?! Sanji: ... If you say it I don't think I'll be able to handle it- Usopp: Oh, shit, you want to marry me for real? Sanji: Yes? No- Not yet. Someday. I- Please, don't make me cry again.

Usopp truly can't wait for the next Valentine's Day with him.

#i be writing the dialogue like this bc i gotta go to work and i don't have time for this wkekfbjkwebjk #but god i absolutely adore them #can you tell i love this day #sanji is just like me fr #i always end up including married sanuso bc i love it #one piece #black leg sanji #usopp #sanuso

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ganondoodle · 8 months

Text

as i was awake in the middle of the night for like 2 hours bc i felt sick i had more somewhat random totk thoughts

one being that i really hate how raurus response to concerned zelda is, after sonia died in that almost funny how little impactful it was way, "im sure you are here for a reason" (actually, i hate how often this sentence is used in general to .. idk i guess its supposed to be inspiritational???)

bc what does that mean actually? him saying that to someone who got there absolutely by accident really just sounds like "i dont care go figure it out yourself bc i dont want to think about anything concerning you or your troubles lol" i guess its meant to sound like OOOOH fate has BROUGHT you here bc you have to furfill a role you dont know yet (spoiler its being a sacrifice girl with no personality) and besides me hating the 'inescapable fate' trope in general (at least the way its usually done in these games, which is not to struggle against it but willingly accept whatever you are told and pretend thats good) its really jsut goddamn boring and is really only an excuse to well .. ignore her and her trouble; shouldnt you, if you were actually such a cool guy like the game wants me to believe so bad, do everything in your power to get zelda back to her own world before shes pulled even further into the war you caused now that her only ""mentor"" that could help her get more use of her pretty much useless sudden powers is gone too?? i know shes basically dead wife sonia replacement (can of worms ugh) but it still grinds my gears whenever i think of that cutscene, bc i cant help but hear it as the lamest excuse in existence to not care about her and just kinda .. see what happens which in this case means leave zelda completely on her her own since both rauru and mineru die as well (honestly shouldnt rauru have thought about like .. any plan to defeat gan besides dying himself, given hes the oh so cool and goodest guy king whos only mistake was not stabbing gan the second he stepped into their kathedral castle thing, like even if you had a plan it can still fail but it seemed like he just kinda went in with a handful of people that didnt seem to know each other at all, never got names or faces -or unique voices for that matter- to fight gan face to face inlcuding the girl that came from a different time and had nothing to do with any of this conflict and couldnt even really control her sudden new powers just seems pretty stupid)

thought 2

how totk really feels like botw but for the people who didnt like shiekah tech, its not a sequel, its botw again, but version of only sonau, its like a pokemon game that had two versions but one has weirdly incoherent story and acts like the other never existed jsut as a whole its like retreading the same points but worse, all shiekah tech that was so integral to the world and had such a long history just vanishing and no one caring about any of it like it never happened, HELL the titans were called divine beasts in english but i guess they werent divine or important enough to keep around LOL champions WHO and isntead a never before seen or even heard of race for that matter showing up and planting their ass in every place the shiekah were before, dare i say it feels weirdly manipulative, like either them or some outside force erasing every fact about the ancient shiekah and replace them with sonau stuff bc they are the hot new shit now

this is a point that just doesnt stop bothering me, how the shiekah tech seemed so carefully designed and integrated into botws world and story, its a difficult to keep balance after all, integrating high tech stuff into a medieval setting, but they made it work! and then totk comes around and throws a bunch modern day tech into it puts some vague greenish stone filter on its exterior and call that even better more ancient tech; why did they even bother to make pottery inspired laser shooting spider legged robots so well integrated when they throw a car and rockets into the next game without a thought and call it a day, what was the fucking point

it feels like someone was dead set on having a set of legos thrown into the game it had no place in, if you want players to build whatever they want make a building game instead!! especially if you are just gonna throw it in with seemingly no consideration how out of place it feels togehter with the fACT THAT YOU ALREADY HAD AND ANCIENT HIGH TECH CIVILIZATION WITH A VERY DISTINCT AESTHETIC THAT WAS ALREADY WELL INTEGRATED INTO THE WORLD YOU ARE PLANNING TO REUSE WITH ALOT OF MYSTERY AND UNKOWN STUFF ABOUT THEM TO EXPLORE FURTHER YOU COULD HAVE USED!! but i guess they just "didnt want to play with you anymore" and that so much so that they went out of their way to erase every trace of it, i dont think the words shiekah tech are ever used in the game, and the purah pad and her towers just drive me more isnane bc they are the same shit but called different and also much worse, liek the purah pad isnt some more developed shiekah stone, no its a glorified camera with a teleport function and thats it

(i know i said this before but i really cant stand how obsessed every single NPC is with sonau shit, you get told to your face every second line of dialog that they are so cool and are so mysterious that it just makes me annoyed of them even more, the game is obsessed with shoving them everywhere and telling you over and over you too should obsess over them, they werent weird like that about the shiekah stuff in botw?? the biggesst talking point in botw was calamity ganon ..... which makes sense and in totk its like ... gan is mentioned what, in a newspaper article??? once???and then not even by name i think???)

aside from that big point which will never let me go, its also just .. its not moving forward anything, it actively walks BACK the progress that was made in botw, call me dumb but i dont really count moving one step up in the social roles of each race as a character development (for the side characters like the champions desc- ahem SAGES) but mainly zelda ... god how dirty she was done, totk pretty explicitely makes her regress any development she made in botw aside from she likes link uwu and some people like her too, but also not enough to notice that that weird zelda being all evil and weird isnt her (INLCUDING THE CHAMP- SAGES WHO YOU ARE SUPPOSEDLY FRIENDS WITH??? you dont have to be a genius to pick up on that my god, were you all given the mc dumbo potion or what)

she gets put back to square one, back into the little itty bitty princessy maiden role forced upon her by her royal parentage, this time rauru edition, back into a white little dress, back into the scared puppy eyed teenager, back into a situation she cant handle, back into losing everyone around her (tho honestly botw made me care more about rhoam than totk did about rauru), back into being forced to do a big sacrifice- but worse actually

in botw she went to FIGHT AND HOLD GANON IN THE CASTLE SO LINK HAD TIME TO RECOVER AND IT WOULDNT DESTROY THE LAND!! and you are telling me in totk rauru takes up her botw role and she bascially killed herself to ... restore the mastersword.

......... she ... she did that only to be a glorified version of the stone pedestal in the forest. and then she gets returned to normal itty bitty girly no problem via magic sparkle beam at the end and

DOESNT

EVEN

REMEMBER.

it really is just botw but worse, you even get yet another ghost king of hyrule to guide you around (rhoam did it better fight me ... we dont talk about the questionable choice to make himself darker skinned when posing as just some guy)

i honestly dont think i was ever truly taken aback by anythign that happened in botw, while in totk, the further i played, the more i had to fight with myself to keep the feeling of unease, disappointment and betrayal down

its such a god damn shame, totk should have stayed a DLC, i will forever mournfully dream of a game that explores more of the ancient shiekah, doesnt erase integral parts of the world, developes characters more instead of making them regress back and make them end up even less developed than at the start of the game, dives into buried secrets and mistakes of dark pages of history without giving into a weirldy nationalist(imperalisitc?) narrative and lets characters have some agency for once

if it werent for the yiga i might have actually considered refunding the game, just to be at peace with myself

anyway, aboslutely incoherent word vomit.

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #totk #ganondoodles rants #old man yells at cloud #i know im repeating myself in alot of points #but some things just wont stop rotating in my head #ngl i felt like nintendy was trying to gaslight me in totk #what noooo the shrine of life was ALWAYS just a barren cave with a puddle of water in it #noooo dumsda (hundson) NEVER had a funny quirk of how he talks #nooooo purah NEVER cared about shiekah tech or that stone she used to have in her lab in hateno #noooooo robelo NEVER cared about the shiekah oven he named cherry #nooooo yuno was never not dumb like a rock and ridiculed by the narrative worse than koga #noooo yuno never had inheretited an ability unique to daruk #nooooooo zelda never had any character besides like white dress waifu #nooooooo the dekutree never actually played a central role #nooooo there never was any shikeah tech #noooooo there never were any champions we were actualyl friends with #why is this series so damn allergic to moving the world or characters forward #you literalyl showed us that zelda companion is doable #you made 5 fram rate killing ghosts that are more useless than useful in any fight but noooo cant do zelda #she gotta be the little maiden uwu #you could have shown us the past without sendign zelda back #you could have revealed the sonau without erasing the shiekah #you had such a good setup from botw #and isntead chose to focus 3 years on being able to glue a stick to a stick in a game that isnt about glue or building

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saint-siren · 11 months

Text

A World For Her Alone | A child of ill omen

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

cw (chapter specific): emotional infidelity, abuse, illness, murder, self harm, suicide, childbirth, vomiting

pairing: claude x fem!reader

summary: in which Claude tries again.

author's note: oh boy.

When he opened his eyes he was in his bedroom. He jolted from the sudden change, looking about him and trying to make sense of what he saw. He was lying on a soft bed instead of the hard, splintery wood he remembered from before. Just a second ago he had been sure to die and now he was home and unharmed. He felt for a wound in his chest, believing that perhaps he’d been saved from his fate, the knights who tried to stop your knight from killing him had taken him back home. But there was no pain there, not even a scar. He had felt the pain searing him for a few beats, the blood drowning him and then there was nothing, there was only this. But it couldn’t have been a dream. He did not dream like this, not so prophetic and pained.

A knock at the door made him jump, every ounce of stimulation made him feel as though he were going insane, as if any moment he would find himself back on the ground. “Come in” He said, in a voice that did not even sound like his own. It wavered with uncertainty very much unlike him, it sounded weak even to his own ears and he resented it. As soon as the butler greeted him with a measuring gaze, concerned he might be ill from the distress on his face and in his voice, he was asking about you.

“You are due to see the lady today. The preparations have been made as you commanded.”

A broken, relieved sound fell from his lips at the words. You were alive. This life he’d arrived in was new, unblemished from the faults of his past and you were the proof. He lived again, you lived again. The day was miserably overcast, the light was a dull gray and much of the room was cast in shadows. This realization of his second life felt like fool’s gold and yet he wanted it badly enough that he reached for it anyway.

“I see…” He murmured “Nevermind that, prepare a carriage now. I will visit her early.”

“My lord, are you feeling alright?” The butler asked anxiously, clearly baffled by the unusually emotional state of him.

“Do I have to tell you again?” He asked sharply, impatient. He sounded like himself again.

The butler looked mortified and had the sense to chasten himself before responding. “No, my lord. I will prepare it right away, I apologize.” He excused himself quickly but not so much so that Claude did not catch a sliver of remaining worry on his face as he looked up at him.

It didn’t matter how he looked, it couldn’t wait. He needed to see you. He needed something to tether him to this bleary new life, to confirm it was all more than a dream, more than a hell made for him where he’d be forever in waiting. He remembered what Felix said. “Do you even know how she died? How long she was held in that filthy, inhumane place?” Had you waited for him then?

This time, without fail, he’d show up for you. Even if it could not change the fact that he hadn’t before.

When he arrived, he was greeted by your parents who were surprised that he was there early but instead of meeting him with an edge of reproach, they apologized profusely for the tea party not being prepared yet. It was ridiculous how much reverence they showed, it was well past courtesy. Claude couldn’t help but notice the way their faces changed when he asked for you, when they told him you’d hurry along and be down in a minute. It was almost as though your name was unsavory gossip, existing only to be whispered and grimaced at.

Nevertheless, they directed him outside to wait for you at the table. His body had never been so wrought with anxiety as then, he thought he might truly go insane with the waiting, the desire to see you again and the fear that in his deserved punishment, he might never.

A sense of foreboding came over him, an insistence this was a doomed desire. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he believed something awful was about to happen. What he didn’t know was whether to trust in it or in his hope, his intention and need. He chose neither and merely observed the beautiful and wretched day he’d come back to, trying to hold fast to the feeling of relief he’d felt when he realized you were still alive but wielding his wariness as a weapon in front of him.

When he set eyes on you, finally, he might’ve flinched. For, even though he wished so desperately that you were here, part of him didn’t expect it to ever really happen. He expected some divine punishment, perhaps it was wishful thinking on par with wishing you would alive and safe. But it couldn’t be a punishment, not if you were here. Not if you were really alive again as he was.

He didn’t want to wait for you to reach him, he wanted to meet you halfway and take you into his arms so that he could feel your heart beating, your breathing, the little sounds of surprise you’d let slip. But he remained seated, somehow, and he was able to ignore the tendrils of doubt creeping into his always so cynical mind. Shortly after you, a figure in red. He could not yet take his eyes from you but his lips could not form words. What could he say to you that would make any sense? And how did he speak without falling apart?

When you reached the table, you stalled a moment, eyes unfocused and dead. You greeted him as you always did but somehow you felt far away from him, from everything. There was a murky look in your eyes, like something waiting to emerge from a great depth. He stood, mercifully his body obeyed, he came closer to you. It hadn’t been like this before. Did something happen to you? It unnerved him see you see you look so dead; even in the sunlight your eyes looked so flat and dark to him that they reflected nothing, conveyed nothing. Unreal, like an ink drawing.

His hand had begun to tremble. Something dark was hanging over this day, over him, over you. Ah, would he wake up now? Would he wake up to the true nature of what he believed was his second chance?

“Are you alright? This isn’t like you.” He heard himself speak, but not from the horror that ruminated in his mind, words that seemed to be at a slight disconnect with his intentions. No…what was this?

Your body was trembling, swaying like a tree in the wind. All of the sudden, life poured into your eyes, something fragile took the place of the shadows. He might’ve been glad for it, for a moment at the least, but he realized that the look in your eyes was utter ruin. Those were not the eyes of his fiancée, not steadfast or bashful and avoidant, these were the eyes of someone who had seen it, the sword falling over her head. Those eyes, he was certain, were his condemnation.

Did you know that he had killed you before? Had the you from his past lent you the view from below?

Lady Diana, whom he had not even considered until that exact moment, finally reached the table. The tightness in his chest immediately unwound. The rose red dress, her golden hair on the wind, these were images he hadn’t known he’d held to until he saw them again. The unwitting euphoria flooded his body yet again, reaching deeply inside his mind and caressing every anxiety. Diana was here. She lived just as you did. That thought was not cause for anything really, it shouldn’t be but…he felt that he wanted to cry when he set eyes on her again alive. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her and she, under his attention, looked bright and curious. Alive. Such a contrast from her before, already cold and dressed in a thin, bloodied gown. Her throat had been slit but from the struggle there were many bruises on her pale skin, along the whole of her body. He ached to see her unharmed like this, the bright girl he had loved well before. He couldn’t help himself, even with the nauseous feeling that accompanied, he longed for her. It was the only thing he could hold on to for the turning of this strange new life. That familiar and far reaching feeling drove itself past flesh, bone, blood, into something immaterial.

It wanted him back.

You dropped a teacup onto the grass, freeing him from the hold momentarily as he turned back to you. His stomach sank to see you, your jaw was clenched and your eyes were glassy with unshed tears. Had you been shadowed by something as he had?

“Are you alright?” He was desperate to know. He felt like he was speaking in a rush, something was creeping up on him as sudden as the clouds blocking the sunlight. Something cloyingly familiar and unwanted. Were you specter or human? Retribution or revision? And what was she, then? What was Diana?

You were the little ghost of something he had killed. You would not respond and he wanted to touch you, so much that his mouth went dry. When had he ever wanted something this badly? He needed to take you by the shoulders, to look into your eyes, maybe his could communicate something to you. Some sincerity that his lips refused to muster. Perhaps if he could only touch you, you’d understand.

“What happened? You’re not yourself today.” He heard it from outside his own body, automatic like breathing. He could not reach you; he was, in all reality, quite far away from you despite the closeness of your bodies.

“I’m sorry…” A wavering voice that sounded as if on the verge of tears. It made him ache inside when you showed him the same smile you always did, the smile that seemed to always be at the verge of collapse. It was as though he could feel the reverberation of the pain he felt when Felix’s sword broke his skin. It was a burning pain, the breaching of his heart. He smiled back at you and soothed a hand over your back.

This was what it meant to be ghost. He understood finally, you were not the ghost, he was. He was immaterial, unable to affect anything around him.

Interestingly, you were different this life in more than the bleakness trapped behind your eyes. You worked with a ferocity and you became a much more cunning lady than you’d ever been before. You were more involved in politics and court, willing to shake hands with twice as many people who before you would not have paid any mind to. When had you ever had any desire to be so congenial to everyone? Had you ever had such ambition in the past life? Your intelligence had always been impressive but now it was frighteningly astounding. It seemed in this life that you had somehow become more proactive in amplifying the position of the marquisate, you were fortifying it against its enemies.

It was just another way in which you were looking after him and he appreciated it but inside, there was a certain hurt that came from seeing you work that hard and be condemned by others for it. They called you a “horrible woman” and rumors swirled around high society about you more so than before when you were merely a “jealous, fearsome lady.” He could only stand beside you and your actions, he couldn’t dispel the notions about you that seemed incessant no matter how ubiquitous your goals were among nobles. He wanted to hunt those who would harm your reputation further, to hold their deeds up to the light and make them see they were not, would never be, in any position to act scandalized over what you did.

He meant what he said, he was lucky to have you for a wife. Even more than that, he was lucky that he was able to make himself express it outwardly. That was a good omen, he thought. This time, things would be different. He was no longer a ghost, he had just needed to see you to come alive. His feelings for Diana, compulsive as they were, would not win him over this time. He would not let them. Maybe he had not been saved completely by god but he had been given the chance to save himself. And he would, he would save you too.

He had all the arrogance befitting of his station.

You had become very protective of your little sister, it was a good thing, he tried to tell himself. If Diana could avoid her death, you would not be a suspect. He knew you hadn’t killed her before but the moment it was murmured into his ear that you might be the culprit, it was decided. And for how many others was that the case – considering how badly everyone wanted you to be a villainess? There hadn’t been a single voice that rose in doubt of you being capable of murdering your sister, the voice had been his and that was buried under the weight of something unmovable.

That was why he agreed when you asked him to look after her one day. He didn’t want to, he hated how his affection for her defiled what convictions he held. He tried to keep in mind that it was for your sake more than anyone’s, to guard himself. But it didn’t work, at the mere suggestion, his heart leaped. He was inundated with a joy that smothered the him that lived beneath. The sweetest of any happiness he’d ever held was to be found at her side, he could not deny that truth but it came with a horrible remorse, a violation of the self that a greater part of him wished to kill.

Diana was glad to have a visitor, no, glad to have him. The thought thrilled his dulled senses. Your parents gave no sense of wariness about having a man alone with their unwed daughter which baffled him, he knew he practically had hearts in his eyes when he arrived, overflowing with anticipation of her. He couldn’t have been more obvious and yet, all your mother did was smile. “It’ll be nice for Diana. She’s really fond of you, my lord.” Her voice was so soft and teeming with the affection she had for Diana, as if she was truly glad for her. Diana was not even her child, born to her or adopted, she came from an affair. At first, he’d thought your mother only showed courtesy out of your father’s desire. But this…it was the smile, the happiness of a mother. And she did not show it for you.

How it felt to be in her room. It was indescribable, what being surrounded by her scent, her books, her things, did to him. Her room to him was like a secret cave, shielded from society. The pink painted walls were not walls at all but barriers from the world itself. All of hell could rage outside and what would they know of it? In that room only, they could get lost inside each other. Diana was feeling better that day, so the two of them were able to have tea together. She showed him some of the books she kept, she would read her favorite parts in her airy voice that always, always betrayed her feelings. She was bursting with happiness at having someone to show them to.

He stayed for hours, captivated by every little detail he learned from her and greedy for even more. She was nothing like a wonderful hostess should be but he liked her that way, she was innocently impolite and honest, unrestrained by the graces of high society. It made her easy to talk to, easy to tease and laugh with. Had he ever laughed so much as he did with her? He felt delirious from the contrast of his headiness and his dread, the heavy stone weighing on his stomach. His body and the greater part of his soul belonged here but his mind was with you. He wondered what you’d think, knowing he promised to be home by dark. You were probably worried and that bothered him, he wanted to be the sort of husband you wouldn’t have to fuss over. He wanted to be dependable and yet it was decided now that he could not.

Diana felt like the center of the earth, a small divot in the earth for him to rest his tired body. Diana felt like a noose around his neck at the gallows, sure and wrested around his neck tightly. The inevitable she. A veritable stranger no matter how he felt he knew her. All he knew was you. You were not important, another part of him argued. You were his wife. You were not Diana.

And so raged his thoughts until he could bring himself to come home to you. He’d been told you’d gone to bed and his stomach dropped with disappointment. He’d at least wanted to bid your goodnight, tell you that he’d come home safely so that you didn’t wonder. He wanted to sleep in bed next to you but his feet led him to another room. He justified it in his mind – you needed to sleep and he would only disturb you. Because he could not control his actions, he made up flimsy justifications for them. Though, he was not sure from which voice they came from. He wasn’t sure which he hoped they came from.

The months that came after were as he imagined they would be, still he could not help but hope, he was yet unused to the kind of weakness he displayed. He was born to be strong, to be responsible for many lives, many fates and yet when was the last time he had felt in control? He needed this dichotomy of his two selves to be a war, he needed it to be something he could fight.

Even in his failure, he treated it as if it were his own fault. When he sent a letter to Lady Diana, feeling as if he had only watched somebody else’s hands write the words, he cursed himself for not trying hard enough to resist. The next time was to be different, he would gather his strength. He told himself this even knowing it wasn’t true, even when the steward gave him Diana’s response and he felt relief soothe every tense muscle in his body. He told himself the next time would be different even when he responded to that letter.

He needed to believe in this second chance. This time around, things were actually going quite smoothly with your relationship. To a certain extent, he’d been able to praise you for your efforts as he hadn't before. He’d made you happy when he told you he was lucky to have you, you looked up at him shyly with a genuine smile on your face, a very rare sight which had only grown increasingly rare over time. It was only in that moment that he was able to feel unconflicted. It was only in that moment that things were simple.

They didn’t stay that way.

A letter arrived to the manor, it was placed directly in his hands rather than yours both because he was the only one who ever received anything from your home and because it was specifically from Diana herself. The steward had whispered the urgency of the matter so he read it at the table before you, even though the him within cringed at the shamelessness of such an act. The larger part of him refused to show such inhibition and as he read the words, his heart only dropped for their contents and not for his wife watching him warily from across the table.

With a shaky breath, he announced to you that Diana’s condition had worsened significantly. He only managed the words because he had to, because it concerned you. The darkness was spreading through his body again, rotting even the reasonable part of himself he’d held above it. He could think of nothing but Diana. Her condition was such that she felt she was going to die, she couldn’t even leave bed without fainting and couldn’t keep down food. The fact that she’d been able to write him would have been a comfort, except that she’d included that she’d had to have her maid write the letter for her.

It shouldn’t have struck him so, Diana had always been ill, this outcome was not a surprising one but he felt as though he might lose his hold on everything if she died. What would he do if he never again saw that smile? He tried to stifle the ache rising in his body, his inner self had not stayed hidden, it objected and raged against the grief. He commanded himself to come together, to grin and bear it if he couldn’t make it go away. But his body did not listen, how could it when his voice was only a whisper?

Claude stood up and announced his departure, he rallied what strength he had to stop himself but it was entirely futile. His body moved regardless of his objections, just as it had the last time. Even so, he strained himself against the almost autonomous machine he’d become, until the very end, he tried to make his body stop. Even the sound of that pleading voice behind him did not give him what he needed. You were begging him to take you along and he kept finding reasons to deny you. It was vile. He knew she was your sister before he was your anything but inside him, woven around his throat was a pressing need to see her. A selfishness that demanded to be alone with her.

The thoughts were stirred up to the surface of his mind easily and they lashed against each other. You didn’t care about Diana, why should you be there? She had asked for him, not for you. You were only trying to cling to him. But why shouldn’t you? He was your husband and he was leaving you behind in matters that concerned your family. No – Diana was hardly your family, if he wasn’t going, would you have even bothered? Of course you would have, he refuted within his mind, you were a dutiful sister even if you weren’t close to Diana. How vile you are, wouldn’t Diana be able to see how little you care for her? Would she have to die knowing her sister curses her for having his affection?

Even though all his eyes saw was the picture of a woman desperate to get to her sister, he was quickly growing agitated with you. Whatever the cost, he simply did not want to be with his wife while he was falling apart over her sister. He thought his face should be the one Diana saw, he wanted to see himself reflected in her eyes. He wanted to be the one to give her hope. No, you couldn’t be there, hovering over his shoulder and serving as the cruel reminder of all that had been robbed of Diana. It didn’t matter if you were her sister or not, he wouldn’t let Diana be unhappy on top of what she was already going through. Why did you insist on being a burden so much?

He shuddered when he felt himself grab you harder than he ever would have and put you from his body. He caught a sliver of your expression and his misery only grew, suddenly stricken by the thought that he might hurt you worse and be unable to stop it again. Would he yet again be helpless? This time, would he be aware and powerless to watch himself harm you? Would he have to watch himself kill you, beat you, betray you — knowing that the difference between himself and this darkness scarcely mattered anymore?

For once, he surrendered and did not try to rebel when his body moved away from you, out the door.

Through the balmy night air, he moved like arrow darting through the sky. He reached Diana, his princess in her tower. Yet again, your parents showed him reverence and did not so much as ask about their other daughter. It was as if they were only expecting him in the first place, no — that they only wanted him in the first place. In consideration of his status, they were courteous and asked about him, congratulating him on a promotion given to him as a knight. He wanted to tell them to shut up, to stop with the small talk if they couldn’t be bothered to ask about you. He was curt with his answers, he didn’t know whether that was by his design or something else’s.

The instant they caught him up on Diana’s condition, however, he was alert. He was fully consumed by the doomed desire for her life to be spared. Every word that came from your mother’s mouth broke him. When he went into her room, finally, he was left alone with her. She was pale, thin, the light had been siphoned from her. When he went over and brushed the hair from her sweaty face, murmuring sweet words of comfort that he’d never been given himself, she opened her eyes and a little glimmer returned to them. Since when had he known of such romantic words when he was a pitiful man who could not even tell his wife once that he loved her? Since when did he have such power that he could return life to this girl?

Diana nearly exhausted herself trying to sit up to talk to him. He’d had to lay her back down as tears rolled down her ivory cheeks from the frustration of her body giving up. It broke his heart, he felt as though he might really bleed to see her cry so hopelessly. She, with her body and her beauty such a temporal, fragile thing, knew that she was withering and could do nothing to stop it. She cried as she squeezed his hand and he could bear it no longer. He leaned over, taking her face in his hands and kissed her until she calmed, until she thought of nothing but him. Her lips tasted like bitter medicine.

When he pulled away, Diana looked at him, docile and sparkling with an ill fated hope. His love for her in that moment caught in every cavern of his heart, it blanketed all else. It was a gentle intrusion like rain seeping in through his clothes. It quieted his better self for the moment. For the time being, he knew nothing but his desire to comfort her. And so he did.

His inner self was already quite tired after a few days, longing for home, for mercy from this place that seemed to revolve around Diana. She’d become the object of his misery and he’d held to the hope that you’d show up soon but you hadn’t thus far. Where were you to save him from this? It was a pathetic thought but it was true that he wanted to be at your side if his body would not allow him to come home. He knew that as long as he lacked control, it was much better to stay away from you and yet he could not deny himself the simplest desire for the sight of you.

He got his wish months later when he needed to return home for work. He saw you in the foyer waiting for him to stop, even though he kept walking as if he didn’t. He raged at himself in that moment, full of righteous fury against his own body. He wanted to hurt himself, to break his bones, to bruise and bleed his frustration, his anguish. But the moment you blurted out the news: “I’m with child!” He was able to stop, everything stopped, his vengeful thoughts and the anger churning inside his heart.

On one hand, Claude felt soft at the thought of a child between you two. You had asked him to start trying for a baby and it was the one time the greater force inside was forced to do something that his inner self was more than approving of. It was satisfying, to finally have some piece of a real marriage to you. It was more than needing an heir, it was wanting to have a family with you who would definitely make a great mother and could teach him to be a good father. His heart was satisfied in that regard.

On another…he was terrified to have a child while he was like this. He was already afraid of hurting you, of the disdain he felt for you. What would he feel for this child? There was no promise that he’d never hurt he child that would be born from you, no promise he wouldn’t be resentful that it wasn’t born from Diana. The fear was like a vice, strangling what joy he’d had about the prospect. This voice inside was like a curse.

And even still, there was another front on which he was conflicted. The greater voice inside made the other conflicts seem like drops of water in the sea. The most pressing issue was that you were pregnant and Diana was about to die. You and this child would force him from her. Why now? Why did you have to be pregnant at a time where his greatest responsibility should be comforting her? How could he tell Diana he would have to leave her for the sake of his child knowing that she could never have the family she desired? Agony filtered through his body, sapping away what warmth he felt before and leaving him empty.

In the end, with such things inhabiting his mind, he could not even express a perfunctory “That’s wonderful” or even tell you that he was thankful to you. He only left, disappearing like a coward with his poorly concealed tears to feel sorry yet again for Diana, for himself. To feel a need to break his own body.

He went back to cheer up Diana, to keep her happy even while you lay at the back of his mind. He knew that he should be there for you while you underwent something so stressful and important but the rest of him didn’t seem to mind ignoring that fact. It was glad to surrender you to thoughts of Diana. He trembled with each sign that she might recover, he died inside at every indication that she would not. He fell up and down the sliding scale of her health and all the while, whispered his love in her ears to reassure her. He felt more justified with every day he spent, that a dying woman needed him more than his wife who had always had robust health and was surrounded by servants and doctors. He strengthened this lie even as a voice of doubt tried to gain his attention. You hadn’t had robust health, not according to Felix who knew you best. Perhaps things would be different in this life but he mourned every single day he spent away from you, he wanted to crawl back home to you. He wanted you to be well, he wanted to make sure you were well.

He could not. His place was with Diana. What pleasure he took in the center of that tragedy, in living in his fantasy of being unburdened and free to love her. It was consolation he felt that he deserved. Soon, Diana did ask to see you and he had to put his greed aside.

Although he did not desire to break the immersion of him living with her functionally as if they were the last lovers alive, her wishes were more important and she was not long for this world. She, who loved you even despite your coldness, had to leave you with something.

When you came, he could not help but notice the difficulty with which you walked. Your skin was wan and you wore a grave expression, the one he’d have been wearing if he had the choice not to smile for Diana’s sake. You were heavily pregnant, he wanted to ask about your health but his mouth would not open. Your parents also did not inquire, although he had hoped with all his might that they would so that his worries would be soothed. He could only translate Diana’s wish to you.

You left nearly as quick as you came once she required nothing else from you, he wanted to catch your arm as you walked by and tell you to stay here the remainder of your pregnancy. It was dangerous to travel, especially looking as sickly as you did. In his stead, who had been looking after you? What was being done for you? He was forced to watch you leave, not even waiting to see you walk through the door before turning back to Diana’s room. His own consciousness screamed for the loss, for the feeling of impending tragedy. The darkness inside relieved the tension in his body and thought only of Diana.

He went into Diana’s room again to find her crying. She refused to tell him why even as he begged for the reason. “Is it because the lady has gone back? She’ll come back soon, it won’t be long at all before I can call her back.” He was scrambling for something to put an end to her tears when his sweet nothings wouldn’t. “No, don’t send for her. It’s nothing” Diana said as she tried to hold back sobs. “What did the two of you talk about?” He murmured as he held her, trying to bring her back to the sated girl she had been. However, his question only seemed to further upset Diana. “I told her that I loved you. How can I confess something like that to my own sister? How can I be in love with you like this? I should have kept it inside until the day that I die.” She sobbed into his shirt. It took hours to calm her to sleep.

He was soft with Diana, reassuring her that it was alright, that you would never blame her for falling in love, that you would forgive her. But when he came home, he was nearing madness with indignation. He was certain that you had lashed out at her in jealousy, if Diana had told him what she was planning to say, he would have talked her out of it. She shouldn’t need to confess to you, who already hated her.

It didn’t matter that his own voice spoke up and refuted, desperately citing that you had every right to be angry with her. What an awful girl she was, stealing away her own sister’s husband when she needed him most and then begging like a dog for her forgiveness, using her illness to force her to be graceful about a situation she should be allowed to have anger about. That denial was thin, it evaporated easily. It was insignificant amongst louder, greater ones that favored Diana.

He took his anger out on you, even though his inner self trusted that you wouldn’t have said anything to Diana. He said awful things to you, feeling like her knight, feeling as though he was seeking retribution for her. He watched you grow smaller before him, your eyes go bleak like they had the first time he saw you. He knew what he was doing to you and he hated himself for it but it was if he were only a player in a story who could not diverge from the role he’d be cast in.

Stop, please, stop.

“Everything you’ve done so far to other people”

Bile rose in his throat as each word left his lips. He tried to stop with all the desperation as one trying to save his own life.

“How can I believe you? You used that same face while scheming against others without a thought”

He knew what his next words would be, he knew they would kill you. And he could see that there was no end. He surrendered to the darkness, he wanted to escape what came next, what he knew would be another sword through his chest.

“That child you’re carrying, is it even mine?”

He left you reeling, with a visceral disgust for his wife whose jealousy knew no limit. To think that she would even choose to attack her sister as she lay in bed dying. He had no doubts that the child had to be his but it didn’t matter to him, he felt that you deserved to be humbled that way. This was the consequence of your actions. If you behaved as an untrustworthy, nasty woman, wouldn’t it make sense to treat you as such?

He went back to Diana, he wanted to be at her side before she woke up.

Diana’s room felt like a place constantly in stasis, the world was on pause when he was there and she was never to die. In his own misery, he had begun to wish that she would finally die. He knew that he would be there until she did so he prayed that she would set him free. Let her die, he thought, Please. Undoubtedly, his eyes must show it. His gaze must be casting the blame he felt she deserved. Why was she still alive, monopolizing his time? If she could only see it. No, if he could only free his body to smother her and end it.

A messenger arrived with news from the mansion. His heart dropped in anticipation. In the halls and safely away from Diana’s ears, the steward told him that you had gone into labor. He saw the fright in the steward’s eyes and knew he absolutely had to be there, regardless of what Diana needed. You mattered more. He said that it was a tumultuous birth and encouraged Claude to be there in more reverent language befitting a servant. Despite the screams from inside, he heard himself brush off the request, citing Diana’s condition even as the steward spluttered objections in shock. He himself was shocked at the extent of his helplessness even though he had no right to be. When he could not win the right to control his own body, when he watched the messenger leave, all hope abandoned him. He was a ghost and this home was his only domain as the world kept turning around him.

Diana finally passed the day after that, as he held her in his arms. Something broke apart and allowed him finally, to vent the anguish he had been feeling for months on end. He cried, he let his fingers dig into his hands so hard they bled. It didn’t matter that he knew the tears were not brought forth out of sadness for his wife, he gave them to you anyway. The only thing worth considering anymore was that he would finally return to you. Those tears were his relief, his daybreak. They were his grief and regret.

However, he was again visited with more news. He was told that you had died giving birth. The situation was further explained to him but he did not hear, all sound negated as he seemed to detach from his worthless body. He had let you die alone. Was he only brought back so that he could watch you waste before his eyes? Why, this time, could he not save you? He had let you die, weak and helpless to even do so much as be there with you as you did.

He’d likely been holding onto Diana as you died. The darkness receded and gave way to grief which weighed his body down, it left him gasping for air as his body returned to his control. He was no longer floating, he was painfully aware of himself, of his failure and what it cost. He reached for his dagger, it was the only thing he could think to do — if this was his punishment, he’d learned his lesson and he would gladly move on to the nothing which surely awaited him. But the steward stopped his hand. “My Lord!” He cried, wrenching the dagger from him and cutting his own hand in the process.

“I’ve already prepared a carriage, please, the daughter Madame left behind still needs you” He was bleeding quite a lot, but he kept his eyes on Claude as he used a handkerchief to wrap it.

The daughter. His child. He’d accused you of being unfaithful, he had said such things knowing they couldn’t be true simply because he knew they’d hurt a fragile woman already in a desolate state. And now she was dead from trying to deliver that child. His child lived same as he did. It was the same as before, same as if he’d killed you himself. Was this all that he lived for?

He allowed the steward to lead him to the carriage, made docile by the numbness that preceded. He came home to the wailing of an infant who, the steward had anxiously explained, had not stopped crying since her mother died. He was urged to rest but refused, he only wanted to see your body, to punish himself further. He wanted to commit it to memory this time, where before he’d abandoned you to a prison far away, he needed now to make himself see.

He wielded the image of your body against himself like a dagger, like his nails digging into his hands. He ripped open his wounds with it, he retched at the sight of you, bloodied and still. He was disgusted at himself, at knowing you had been torn apart for his weakness, as if presented with life he’d taken with his own hands.

He made himself look at his daughter. This pitiful, small thing who resembled him so closely…he’d used her to hurt his wife. He couldn’t bear to hold her and look down into eyes that seemed to damn him with their resemblance. It was as if god had given him his copy to say “You, who would condemn a good woman as an adulterer, have your proof of her fidelity.” When he had demanded an explanation from the doctor, even knowing it was unfair of him, the frail and weeping old man managed to confess that she had declined to save her own life by giving up the child’s.

He wished that reality would break open, would fracture and crumble. He wished that he would lose his sanity so that all that occurred would be rendered nothing to a mind who could no longer comprehend the definite nature of reality. But there was only one way toward even the sliver of a chance for mercy. It would not be given to him as a gift. He held the dagger up to his throat. In the moment before it bit into his skin, he thought of the perverse escape the darkness had offered.

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#claude x reader #wmmap x reader #claude de alger x reader #claude de alger obelia x reader #wmmap fanfic #x reader

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