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illusioninteractions · 6 months

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Love Never Discussed

This is my first ever one-shot, but I'm quite proud of it, so I thought I'd post it and feed those Venti simps. Please enjoy! :D

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Venti x Gn! Traveler! Reader ~Angst, Fluff, and things along those lines. WARNINGS: Suicidal ideations and thoughts, sh scars... please do not read if any of those concepts trigger you, and for those reading who deal with this, please know that you are loved, even when it may not feel like it. Word Count: 2,2k

You've grown tired of the way things are. Traveling non-stop takes its toll, but it's surprising how well you hid it from everyone, including the floating emergency food who spoke to you every waking moment. Eventually, taking care of yourself, alongside all these other people, became a chore, so you walked on until you pushed yourself just a bit too far. Luckily, you were found by the one person you had only wished to see again.

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Night had slowly fallen as you trekked along what felt like a never-ending road, yet you thought you didn't deserve to rest. There were still people to help, to rescue, to find. Of course, Paimon was chatting your ear off the whole way, not even taking in the fact that you weren't responding. As you walked along the shore near Stormbearer Point, the very place where you met Paimon, the fatigue began to take its toll, but you kept moving. Little did you know, a familiar face was keeping an eye on you as you sluggishly walked the beach towards the forest, headed straight for Mondstadt. Then, rain began to fall, it started with a light drip, and quickly it moved on to a pour. Nothing was even concerning you at this point, you couldn't really remember if you did anything for yourself today. Did you even eat? Drink?

Your vision grew blurry to that thought, but you didn't mind. The cold rain pounded your skin as Paimon ran off under a tree and called you to her. Instead, you didn't listen, you let it happen, not a concern or worry that you didn't know what would happen next. "It was bound to happen," You thought as no part of you feared the afterlife. You thought this was it.

Just as your body fell numb onto the wet and hard sand, your vision was finally gone. Paimon screamed for you, floating over to you in haste as she completely forgot about the heavy condensation. She called your name multiple times, shaking your body back and forth. She looked for help, turning her head left and right.

Within the blink of an eye, the person who kept you in their sights came sprinting over, stowing away the bow he carried over his shoulder. Paimon sighed with relief at the sight of him as he knelt by your side, dirtying his white tights and placing a hand on your back, calling for you.

"Traveler!" Your corrupted mind made out, which caused a bit of force to your eyes as you wanted to see the face of the voice you recognized. He saw your attempt and moved his hand to your shoulder to gently roll you over.

As his hand touched your skin, he felt how cold you were due to this heavy rain. The wind didn't help, but the more he panicked, the more nature was stirred up as well. He snapped out of whatever worry he had dug into and put his other arm under your head so that he could roll you onto your other side without possibly injuring your neck. He could finally carry you out of there, using the wind to help glide him straight towards the city he used to rule.

It was the dead of night, not a soul was outside of their home in the city of freedom. Maybe it was because it was so late, or maybe the rain was too strong, but Venti had one thought and one thought alone: to help you. He was quick to find what he thought he needed as Paimon was barely able to catch up with the Archon.

Though this was his city, he didn't live in one place. He doesn't own a home, so even he was somewhat lost. Moments after he had grabbed a blanket from a nearby vendor, placing what money he could on the counter before taking his time to wrap you in it as best as he could, he found himself breathing hard as he looked around vigorously. He searched for a safe place to put you, but to no avail.

"Venti?" Jean's voice echoed through the empty city as the rain had finally stopped, the night sky clearing up. She held an umbrella in one hand and a lantern in the other, a confused look worn upon her face.

The god had slowly come down, the wind blowing around him coming to a halt the moment his feet touched the ground, "Master Jean... please, I need your help." He asked as he showed your face to the Acting Grand Master, Paimon nodding her head in a quickened pace.

"The Honorary Knight..!" Jean gasped as she quickly turned her gaze back to Venti. "Follow me."

The two ran through the streets of Mondstadt, as Paimon floated alongside them until they reached the Knights of Favonius headquarters. The instant the group reached the indoors, Venti felt relief knowing you would be safe there. Jean led them inside her office and suggested laying you down on the couch.

Replacing the now wet blanket, you once wore, with a new one, Venti pulled up a chair to stay by your side for a moment as he caught his breath.

"What happened?" Jean's concern was not one to be reckoned with, and Venti understood that. He knew he had to speak up on the issue, though he might not have known every detail.

"Paimon was just talking with the traveler until it suddenly started raining and-!" Paimon's high-pitched voice rang out and loud as she was still grasping the situation herself.

"Paimon, why don't you go take a breather and find Miss Lisa in the library. It isn't all that late for her, she should still be up and about." Jean suggested, though cutting off the floating person, Paimon nodded calmly and flew out the door.

"Thank you." The boy with black to blue braids nervously chuckled as he looked at Jean for only a brief moment before turning his focus back onto you.

"My question goes for you, too, Venti..." Jean continued on as she leaned forward in the chair she sat on. "If you know what happened, that is."

"To be honest, I don't really have much of a clue. I knew the traveler was coming back to Mondstadt today, the wind told me, but I never expected this. They looked tired, not only physically, but mentally as well. The sight of them broke my heart, I worry they never focus on themself. Going from nation to nation is beyond draining, even I couldn't bear it sometimes, but to also be traveling and searching for someone so dear, then getting dragged into defending ones so near. They could have barely just met, but the traveler would help them solve their issues. This is all too much for one human to hold and never let go of. Even so, they don't dare utter a word of regret or sadness. If I had to say, that is probably the problem they're facing." Venti had rushed some parts, emphasizing most as he had a gut feeling he knew what was going on while the traveler was away. "Being wind-borne is great in its ways, but as the gusts flow in, it may toss you straight into a maze."

"A maze they struggle to find the exit to..." Jean sighed, knowing the feeling. "I'll leave you two alone for a minute. I'm just going to grab the traveler some water."

Venti nodded his head, as he reached out for your hand, holding onto it as he softly ran circles with his thumb. The god's head slumped down as he heard the door shut, resting no weight into the palm of your hand. The feelings he held for you were so strong, yet he has never forced it onto you and sticks to his flirtatious ways. He wants nothing more than to express the way he feels for you but has never found the time. That's why he awaited your arrival back to Mondstadt... and why he kept a close eye on you as soon as he found you, looking for the perfect moment to swoop in and greet you. Never did he expect it to end the way it did.

As a piece of the blanket gently fell from your arm, Venti looked up only to see you still unconscious, but the scars on your arms had caught his attention. At first, he assumed they were all battle scars, yet after taking a closer look, some looked almost too organized. "Why are they doing this to themself?" His thoughts quickened and his eyes worriedly looked over every single scar as he could only hope it had never gotten too much farther than this. He thought, "If Paimon knew about it, she would've told someone, right? So does anybody even know?" He felt guilty for even looking at them, but now he knew that his guess was correct, though he never wished for it to be.

Eventually, Jean came back, to which Venti grabbed the part of the blanket that fell and calmly tucked your arm back inside while Jean placed a glass of water down on her desk before unfolding a hand cloth to use.

Venti scooted his chair back as Jean came over and knelt down by the couch to get closer to you in order to help you drink the water she offered. Of course, you had no clue... only hoped that you wouldn't wake up.

Was that completely true, though? You had heard the voice of someone you cared for, more than most, in what you thought was your last waking moments. Would it be fair to leave him?

As quickly as the night had fallen, time had gone by and shortly revealed the sun. Everyone in their city was just awakening from their sweet slumber, unlike Venti who hadn't slept at all. He was too worried about you to worry about his sleep, and although Jean tried to talk him into rest, it didn't work. Venti had witnessed the sun fall and rise, all while watching your face closely.

With a sudden sigh escaping his lips, he took hold of a lyre he so carefully strapped to his waist and began playing a tune, one which he played for you many times. He hummed the words, instead of singing them, strumming the strings to the beautiful instrument you know only he would play. The soft song had lulled you back to your senses as a smile grew on your still-sleeping face. Venti gave a soft giggle as he noticed your now peaceful expression, and to it, he started to quietly sing the words. Soon enough, your eyes fluttered open and you felt the smile on your face when you realized the melody being played right beside you. Turning your head slightly, you saw Venti, his eyes gently closed as the sun shined an orange tint inside the room and welcomed you into a new day.

The song had sadly come to an end, and as the boy began to pocket his Lyre, he noticed you completely conscious and staring right at him.

"Who knew waking up to such a pretty song would be so enchanting." You managed to say as you sat up slightly, your smile only growing bigger.

Venti said nothing, he just hugged you at your waist, his head planted softly on the blanket on top of your torso. You, surprised at first, sunk into the sudden hug, happy to be there, his arms wrapped around you.

"Are you hungry?!" Venti sat up within a split second, his eyes hastily moving from one of your eyes to another to find your answer. "Please... be honest with me."

"I- uhm..." You stuttered initially, nervous to say what you knew or what you felt. "Yeah, I am."

"Great, I'll go get something for you-!" To the sudden tug of his arm, he didn't even get the chance to stand fully before this new found confidence of yours took control.

Though you only wanted to hug him again, where this ended up going wasn't so bad either. Your faces were inches away from each other, his other hand on the couch cushion beside you as the one you held had moved to the arm of the couch. You were practically underneath him, and his face was in shock, but it gave you a clear view of his reddened cheeks. He broke the eye contact the two of you were having as he nervously chuckled and looked away, but you continued to look at him. You studied him, the way his smile curved nervously on his face as he seemed conflicted between what he wanted to do and what he should do. The way his eyes looked around, moving quicker with every thought he had. Your hand reached the side of his face with a gentle touch, guiding his gaze back towards you where your eyes met once more.

"Uhm... Traveler?" Venti questioned softly, genuinely confused.

You didn't fail to notice the way his eyes moved from your eyes to your lips in such fast and brief moments. He thought he was getting away with it, but he wasn't, he was only making it more obvious by the second, so you sat up ever so slowly until your lips hesitantly but finally made contact. The tender kiss lasted but a moment, but it felt like an eternity after having waited so long for this honest and passionate kiss between love never discussed.

#venti x reader #venti x you #genshin impact venti #genshin venti #oneshot #angst #fluff #gn reader #venti the bard #genshin barbatos #venti genshin impact #jean genshin impact #paimon #genshin impact #genshin traveler

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zhakyria · 7 months

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I had the chance to commission Kahl'ryn from @psychededoodle. I have no words for how much I love this. Everything, all the details, the expression, the scar, the cybernetics, everything is so well done!!

And with this amazing portrait - I'm gonna talk a bit about Kahl and what he is up to in my Arclight AU. So... some rambling thoughts under the cut. :)

For reference: The Arclight AU is a melting pot of various sci-fi franchises. Star Wars, Farscape, WildStar, Star Trek, to just name a few. However, the core of it is Star Wars. A lot of the universe rules are Star Wars rules - such as how space travel works and the Force.

The major players from Star Wars include: the Galactic Empire, the Mandalorians, the Sith Empire, the Chiss Ascendancy, the High Republic, and the Grysk Hegemony.

Much like swtor!Kahl, arclight!Kahl was born in the Sith Empire. His father is the (now former) Sith Lord Xhai'tan. He was trapped in a burning building when he was a child, which is how he got the burn scars. He joined the Imperial Academy and joined Imperial Intelligence upon graduating. Some of his first missions included hunting down terrorists and stopping Darth Jadus. For his double agent arc however, he didn't infiltrate the SIS.

In Arclight the Sith Empire is mostly at odds with the Dominion from WildStar. So, Kahl is tasked with infiltrating the Dominion and carrying out his mission there. The Star Cabal is still a threat and Kahl eventually dismantles it.

Now things really start to diverge. You see, most everything from Shadow of Revan onward doesn't happen. So how does my boy meet Theron?

I made the executive decision that since the Republic isn't the same Republic as in swtor and isn't the power in direct conflict with the Sith Empire, that Theron would instead be from the Dominion. ((I know, I know, not the best allegory if you know anything about the Dominion - like they live up to their name. Does make it way easier for Theron to defect though.))

Then I needed the catalyzing event. Enter the Dread Masters. They were imprisoned by the Dominion, but they escape but with Emperor Vitiate dead (did I mention that? no? So, yeah Emperor Vitiate does die, and after a short war between the Sith, Acina comes out on top and takes the Throne - this is also the time of Malgus's first betrayal,) they go rogue.

Kahl is called in to help with the situation by Lana and she eventually wrangles the help of Theron in tracking and defeating the Dread Masters. Much like in Shadow of Revan, Kahl and Theron grow close.

Then the tradegy of Grismara happens. For those unfamiliar with WildStar. Grismara was home to the Mordesh. A elf-like species who were masters of science, alchemy, and art. They were arrogant and proud, sure of their own superiority. That was until the Everlife Elixir, developed by their most lauded scientist became their curse. The Everlife was meant to give immortality, and they trusted Dr. Lazarin so much that it was distributed worldwide. Then the Everlife became the Contagion. Everyone (and the lore implies everyone) slowly turned into super aggressive mindless cannibals (basically zombies).

Grismara was a neutral world on the edge of Sith and Dominion borders. Both sides were trying to ally with them, but when the Contagion broke out - the Sith turned their back on the world and the Dominion set up a blockade and quarantined it.

Kahl and Theron disobeyed orders to try and help the Mordesh. During that terrible year long attempt at saving the Mordesh, Dr. Lazarin made a small break through. He created the Vitalis Serum, which delayed the effects of the Contagion, but also required frequent injections. The remaining Mordesh were trapped in a half-life. They no longer age (they got their immortality) but they also are unable to have children unless a cure can be found.

Kahl and Theron organized for the last of the Mordesh, to escape. Taking them to the Odessen Coalition. A small and new coalition of planets that came together with the help of Xhai'tan (Kahl's father) and Thrass (who is alive and rescued by Xhai'tan - That is another books of thoughts so if you are curious about how Thrass fits in here feel free to ask.)

With the fall of Grismara, Kahl and Theron defect and join the Coalition. Kahl eventually commanding a heavy cruiser as part of the Maarasu Nighthunters - the Odessen Defense Force division in charge of covert operations and missions that take place beyond the borders of the Coalition. It is Kahl who finds Thrawn and Ezra where they have been stranded for 7 years (again another book of thoughts that I can talk about later). Kahl then goes on to support Thrawn, Thrass, Eli, and the others Chiss fighting to save the Ascendancy.

I'll stop there but....yeah so lots of thoughts.....enjoy!

#arclight: kahl'ryn #my oc #imperial agent #twi'lek #swtor #star wars #star wars au #psychededoodle art #not my art #commissioned art #arclight au #so many thoughts #so much to write #and only the first prologue done #yep think there might be more then one before I am finished #I can and will talk for day to anyone interested about all this

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yunalinwrites · 2 months

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saved by the bell (chapter 2) | fushiguro toji x reader

previous | series masterlist | next

available on wattpad

summary: fushiguro toji never makes first moves--until he happens to meet the teacher of the son he hasn't seen in years.

strangers -> fwb -> lovers

takes place in 2006 around the star plasma vessel/hidden inventory/premature death arc; megumi is a first grader

about reader: female, around 30 or older, teacher, has a soft spot for megumi, speaks kind of formally, has daddy issues + abandonment issues

warnings: eventual smut, cursing, alcohol, smoking, daddy issues, abandonment issues, mention of child abuse/trauma, toji is initially kind of an ass, spoilers for the season 2 arc mentioned above

"Don't get how a puny thing like him can burn through a gallon in a week," he'd complained, watching the infant chug his bottle eagerly in his lap. "Damn FamilyMart workers are starting to know my name."

His friend turned back to face him, looking inside from the balcony as he took a drag from his cigarette and adjusted his tie.

"If you want him to look anything like you by the time you sell him off, you better get used to it," his friend advised. "Probably the cheapest source of protein out there."

Finally, the little boy lifted his mouth from the bottle, but only to let out sharp wails. At this, the man's friend put down his cigarette and came back inside.

"Not like they'll give me any extra money for it," the man grumbled, handing his son awkwardly to his friend. "He'll be strong enough. And fuck if I help the Zenin clan more than I need to."

Patting the baby's back gently, his friend made a suggestion: "You could always keep him. Learn how to raise him yourself. Spite 'em that way."

The man didn't appear to be listening, already having shifted his attention to the glitchy TV he'd gotten off the street and sinking into his cracked leather couch. Sighing, his friend laid down the now quiet baby beside him and headed towards the balcony to continue where he left off, his suggestion met only with the sound of footsteps as he was followed out.

"They'll make sure he's strong," the man guaranteed, taking a cigarette from his friend's pack. Once he'd successfully flicked the lighter at the end, he continued: "Probably gonna breastfeed him till age fuckin' eight."

And though he was met with no contest from his friend, he went on, with a breath of nicotine concluding, "'Just not something I'm made to provide."

***

Tossing the cap behind himself, he took a long swig straight from the jug.

He slammed the refrigerator door shut and leaned back against the counter, but--thanks to the lack of distance between everything in his cramped unit--this move forced him to meet the reflection of himself in the glass of the balcony door.

His friend seemed to have been right all those years ago. The incorporation of milk into his diet gave the man a body that he was, for the most part, proud of--mountainous biceps, chiseled abs, bulging pecs; the works. The only thing that irked him about his appearance, though, was his face--that scar, that fucking scar.

He vaguely remembered hearing somewhere else that protein was good for building tissue, which was a claim sufficiently evidenced by his body--from the neck down, that is. So it was both confusing and disappointing when he'd wake up in the middle of the night to take a piss and that nasty mark of his past would be the first thing he saw in his dirty mirror. Still, not really knowing what else to do about it, he took another sip and tried focusing his attention through the glass door rather than on it. In doing this, his eyes found refuge on the polka-dot umbrella he'd left out to dry.

It had been a little over a week since that night at the bar. It was still quite rainy here and there, so he found himself still using the item almost every night. It's not nearly as romantic as it sounds, though--at least not for you. He had mostly been using it to escort other women home.

To be fair, he had some self awareness. He felt worse every time he saw your name and number whenever he opened it for someone other than himself. But what was he supposed to do, return it? You hadn't been back at that bar since. Not that he was really checking he just figured if he was going to go out to do his nightly ritual, he might as well do it at that same joint. You know, in case you wanted your umbrella back.

And before you ask, no, he couldn't call you. He almost never, ever called first; it went against his morals, if you can even refer to them as that.

Again, he had some self-awareness. He knew he was kind of a piece of shit, so much so that even through the gray clouds and even among the 8-billion-some-odd people on His earth, he supposed God recognized him as such. So, just like how God decided whether or not the boats he bet on would get him out of this apartment, he assumed God also decided which women ended up in his web, and which would come back for a second night. By this logic, so long as he didn't make too many overt first moves, all broken hearts could simply be attributed to and excused by fate. It was a sort of heavenly restriction, if you will; he would sacrifice his initiative for the ability to keep being an absolute fucking asshole.

His sacrifices also included curiosity, he tried reminding himself; if he was meant to know something, then he would just know it already--so there was no point in wondering about you or, by association, his... that little boy.

Yes, there was no point in wondering how he managed to look that much like him, or where he got the balls to just follow curses around whenever he pleased, or why his name was Fushiguro, and not Zenin

Or, for that matter... fuck, what was his first name?

He headed towards the couch and took a seat, jug still in hand.

Shit. I don't even remember what it started with...

Forcing out a low laugh at this realization, he fished for the TV remote in between the cracked cushions.

Whatever.

He flicked through the channels with occasional sips from his drink, letting clips of people talking, singing, and laughing play no longer than a second before he cut them off with the press of a button. He kept spamming it, tapping and tapping, faster and faster, sounds merging together until:

Wasn't it an M...?

Placing the milk jug down on the dusty coffee table, he stared at the characters on the remote's number pad, his attention focused on a singular key in particular.

Fuck.

Putting the remote down beside him, he rubbed his eyes in distress, trying to massage the thought out of his head.

Goddammit...

He cursed His name, but as he used his arms to push himself up off his imprinted spot on the couch, hoped that God would forgive him just this once.

Hastily, he headed towards the balcony door and shoved the stubborn thing open. Snatching the umbrella with one hand, he punched in your number with the other, a firmness in his thumb. As soon as the phone rang with his outgoing call, though, whatever resolution that was just occupying his body had completely vanished. By the second ring, he was tapping impatiently on the rusty railing. By the third, he was trying to steady himself against it, which only resulted in a concerning creak. By the fourth, he'd headed back inside out of fear that he'd drop his outdated device, something that he couldn't afford. The fifth ring had his thumb just millimeters shy of the red button on his keypad, getting dangerously close due to his trembling, but then:

"Hello, this is Miss L/N speaking."

He exhaled after what felt like an eternity of holding his breath. As his lungs regained their rhythm, he felt his shoulders melt back down into relaxation, and soon, a smirk found itself creeping onto his lips. "Jesus--you really do talk like a princess."

"Um... I'm sorry, could I ask who this is?"

Still smirking, he took another deep breath and spoke up: "Think you left your glass slipper with me at the bar the other night," he started, absentmindedly studying the item. "But you made my job a lot easier by putting your number on it, Miss L/N Y/N."

There was a short pause, but then she realized: "O-oh! It's you--Oh my God, um... Hello..."

He chuckled lightly at her stuttered response. "It's me."

"So," he began again, "What are you doing tonight?"

For a while, nothing came through the speaker. He bit his cheek.

When she finally did speak, her tone was lowered: "I can't stay out late. It's a school night."

He placed the umbrella on the coffee table and took a seat on the couch, putting his free arm over the back.

"Won't take that long to return an umbrella," he pointed out. "Didn't realize you had something else in mind."

"N-no, that's fine, you can just--"

"I'm just pulling your leg," he interrupted. "How about now--what're you up to right now?"

That came out a little more eager than he meant for it to be. In an attempt to fill the awkward silence, he grabbed the milk jug from the coffee table and resumed his drink, gulping as he held the microphone away from his mouth.

"I'm out running errands."

"Where?"

Slamming his drink down--again, a little too eagerly--he reached for the remote and switched off the TV.

"Um..."

The hesitation was discouraging at first, but as her microphone betrayed her, it would seem that the aforementioned God was on his side today. In the background, he heard the familiar chime that indicated someone had come through the automatic door.

"Which FamilyMart is that?"

This time, there was surprisingly little hesitation: "...the one by the station."

And with that, he finished off the last few ounces left in the container and tossed the empty jug on the table, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Don't move," he instructed, grabbing the umbrella with one hand and pulling the phone from his ear with the other. Bringing his thumb back to that red button, this time with returned unwavering confidence, he finished, "See you there, princess."

***

The door chimed welcomingly as it automatically slid open, causing you to whip your head around in anticipation. To both your disappointment and relief, it was just a gaggle of teens looking for some after school snacks.

As you turned your head back to your shopping, your eyes caught on to something right next to the entrance: a bin of umbrellas, for only a couple hundred yen each. You sighed as you took your eyes off the salt in your wound. Your mother had taught you well enough to know how bad this was: a stranger knowing your name, number, and current location. So, really, the too-late sight of an alternative was just unnecessary on God's part.

But then again, as much as you didn't love the pattern she'd chosen, it would've been cruel to replace a gift from your mother. She also always said herself to pick public spaces for first dates and, given that the local high school usually wrapped up clubs around this time, more than enough people were coming in by the second. Just now, for example, a young couple walked in holding hands in their uniforms.

And this wasn't even anywhere near a first date anyway; he was just coming to give you your umbrella, that's all. But, also... Even if he were to stick around for, say, a cordial conversation about the weather, and, hypothetically, he did so long enough that it would only be polite to ask for his name... Well, you always did preach both manners and curiosity to your students.

Deciding that you'd overthought enough, you tried to direct that curiosity to the crackers, chips, and cookies in front of you. You scanned over the rainbow of packaging, searching for something that looked both appealing and healthy. Nothing in particular jumped out at you until you looked to the top shelf, focused on a specific bag. At first, you couldn't tell why you recognized it, especially considering you couldn't see all of it due to its height, but then you realized: Megumi's brought that one to lunch before...

The shelf was well over your head, but it seemed like the only employee around--the cashier--had gone to the bathroom, so you reached your arm up as best as you could. The bag brushed your fingers, which only pushed it farther back, so you had to employ the help of your tippy toes. You could feel it just within reach of your fingertips, as the crease in your flats dug into your feet.

C'mon, just a little closer...

"Need a hand?"

Suddenly, a muscular arm emerged from behind you, reaching over you and grabbing the bag with ease.

Planting your heels back down on the floor, you spun around and smoothed out your pencil skirt, only to look up and find him--him and his scarred face--startlingly close to you.

"Thanks..." you obliged, trying to look away as you gently took the bag of sweet potato chips from his hand.

Even after you had placed the product in your basket, he didn't back up, so it was almost hard to see his entire body. But, you were still able to recognize he was wearing the same thing as when you saw him for the very first time: a black short-sleeve shirt and gray sweatpants.

As you had learned to make note of in your students, wearing repeated outfits that didn't fit the season or didn't fit the wearer was typically an indicator of a low-income background. In this case, it wasn't so much that the clothes were ill-fitting... it was just that the waistband of his pants were hanging loosely, dangerously low on hips, and his shirt was.... Tight. Very tight. And thin, which was interesting considering the chilly breeze that came through the door with every customer. Along with that, you were feeling the air from the heavy exhales of his nose.

"My eyes are up here, Miss."

You didn't realize how long you'd been watching his chest rise and fall rather quickly.

"Sorry," you corrected shyly. "You didn't rush to come here, did you?"

He shrugged. "Said you couldn't stay out late. Wouldn't wanna keep you from your royal duties."

"Oh, I see... Well, I didn't mean to hurry you. You could've at least put on a coat."

He looked down to where his compression shirt hugged the grooves of his abs. "Didn't realize there was a dress code, Miss," he teased. "Am I being indecent?'

"I-It's not that," you stuttered. "It's still cold out, you know."

"Cold? It's spring."

"Yes, but you could still get sick. Especially if it rains. You know the saying, 'In like a lion, out like a lamb'?"

"With all due respect, Miss, I'm not fucking stupid."

As soon as the profanity left his mouth, he winced at his own words. He was hoping to keep up his gentleman facade a little longer, but he supposed couldn't hide his true nature forever. Taking off the wrist strap of your umbrella, he began preparing to never see you again.

But then you spoke, surprisingly calmly: "I never said you were. But you never know. People aren't born knowing everything, are they?"

He froze in his place, thinking about your words--about how they didn't hold even a hint of anger or hurt in them. He couldn't tell if that made him feel more or less guilty.

Hearing his silence and seeing the solemn expression on his face, you felt the need to apologize for your preaching: "Sorry... I guess I'm still in teacher-mode. I swear, it's what being in this uniform does to me."

Suddenly, he smiled, and his eyes were almost soft as they looked down at you and your dainty button-up. "It's alright," he rasped. His pupils definitely darkened, though, as they drifted lower, down to your form-fitting pencil skirt and your pantyhose-clad thighs. "Yeah, no, it's... it's fine."

Feeling you remove the umbrella from his hands, he snapped out of his gaze on your body as you spoke again: "Thank you for coming all this way to return it. I wasn't really expecting you to."

Cockily, he put his hands on his hips. "Yeah, well, I just happened to run out of milk, so you can thank God for that. I mean, I'm a busy man, you know? Part of why I rushed here."

You laughed. "Physical therapy, was it?"

He paused for a second, almost as if he forgot what he did for work, but resumed the banter soon enough. "Right, yeah. Got appointments left and right. Seriously, I mean, you should consider yourself lucky."

"Well, I appreciate you squeezing me in."

"I'll let it slide just this once, princess, but you'll have to pay a fee next time."

Your stomach fluttered at the prospect of seeing him again, but you still tried to hold your guard up around the near-stranger. "Next time...?" you questioned.

"Yeah. Next time you need physical therapy."

You laughed nervously. "I don't think I... understand..."

"C'mon, Miss. You're smarter than that."

You blushed, putting together that he probably wasn't talking about yoga balls.

"I'm flattered, but... we've only just met, haven't we?" you argued, though unsure if it was to him or yourself.

He shrugged again. "Don't usually meet my clients before I meet with 'em."

You were given an opportunity to turn away when you heard the door chime again. A young man and woman had come in to shamelessly ask for where the condoms were, though they weren't holding hands. And despite it being only around 5 p.m., they were obviously somewhat inebriated, which brought up a good point--you two had met before, and you'd done so at a bar, where it was common for such shallow appointments to be made. In context, it was a little less weird when you thought of it as him picking up where he left off, underneath that bar awning.

Still, you looked down instead of back at him, imagining how he probably did this often. "I don't see why you can't just find another one, then."

He sighed through his nose and shoved his hands in his pockets. For a second, you thought you'd said something wrong--he looked uneasy, dreadful almost. But just as quick, he combed his hair back and painted a charming smile across his face.

"Yeah, I guess so," he pretended to consider. "But I noticed something about you." He crossed his arms, showing off his veiny forearms.

"When you were walkin' away from me that night, you had this... sway in your hips." He looked you up and down, squinting his hooded gray eyes.

"Could sense an underlying condition, beneath that little dress of yours." His tongue peeked out of his pale lips, teasing the scar at the corner.

"Just sayin', in my professional opinion, something oughta be done about that."

You let out a shaky breath, staring up at him, eyes wide and cheeks pink. He certainly did have some expert words to say. Meanwhile, your teeth had a deathly grip on your bottom lip, so you couldn't come up with even a single consonant to respond with. Figuring that you weren't going to respond any time soon, he began to back off.

"I should probably get going," he told you, "but don't be a stranger, yeah? Ain't got a business card or anything but my number should be in your Recents."

Even as he walked away, you couldn't say anything, and the only movement made by you came from your lip managing to escape your painful bite. All you could find in yourself to do was watch, mouth agape, as he made his way to the fridges at the end of the aisle, not even realizing you didn't yet have a name for his contact.

As he grabbed the cold handle of the refrigerator door, he could see his now frowning reflection in the glass.

He was probably going to beat himself up later over all the creepy and corny things he'd let himself utter to you, but right now, he didn't think about that; he was just glad the conversation was over. Making a number of first moves and doing so in a FamilyMart snack aisle before it was even dark out--he couldn't even focus on why he'd come here in the first place. Whatever he was trying to do-which he himself wasn't even exactly sure of-it was stupid. He felt like a fish out of water, and all he wanted to do was jump out of his skin and drown himself in the current, never daring to swim against divine intervention again.

But as if he didn't regret coming here enough, he recognized another familiar face as he moved toward the registers.

"Ah, Fushiguro!" the elderly woman would always greet. "Just milk again, Fushiguro? That's good. Lots of protein. Helps build tissue. Huh? What's that, Fushiguro? You want a pack of Marlboros? Oh, you're just like my son, Fushiguro..."

He tsked. He always hated how that old hag managed to fit his name in at the end of every other sentence, loud enough for her half-deaf ears--along with the entire store--to hear. And of course, just his luck, she lived another day to work this specific shift.

He put the milk jug back as quickly as he could and searched for the most inconspicuous route to the exit. Of course, that just happened to be through the aisle you were still in. With little time to think, he swallowed his pride. Making his way over and brushing past you, he mumbled something about having forgotten his wallet as he briskly made his way to the door.

"Wait!" you called. Head darting between the milk fridge and the back of his figure, you moved quickly after him.

Frantically tossing bills at the cashier on your way out, you bolted out of the store, this time darting your head left and right as you searched desperately among the sea of other dark-haired pedestrians. You were considering giving up as you began to get dizzy, but then you saw him--the only tall, muscular figure outfitted in a T-shirt in this weather. You continued to run after him and, thankfully--since you opted for flats over heels today--you were able to catch up with him before the pedestrian light turned red again. He was already halfway through the crossing, but he stopped in the middle of the road, eyes widened in shock as you were bent over, leaning on your knee as you panted and held the jug of milk up towards him.

Realizing that you'd bought it for him, he took it from your hand and awkwardly obliged: "...Thanks."

You were able to stand up straight now, but your breathing was still somewhat labored as you spoke: "At least... let me know... your name..."

He hesitated for a moment, as if he didn't even know what his own name was.

"You know mine," you reminded him, impatiently putting a hand on your hip. "It's only fair."

His face was grave, but his eyes were narrow as they jumped everywhere around you: at the passing taxis and vans, at the salarymen flocking from their building, at the park fenced in. It seemed he found his name somewhere, but it wasn't as comically artificial as you might think: "It's Zenin. Zenin Toji."

"Zenin?" you confirmed.

"Yeah," he replied, swallowing away the dryness in his throat. "But what do you say we skip the formalities? Just call me Toji."

"Oh, um. Okay, then. Toji," you repeated, testing it out on your tongue.

A loud honk brought the two of you back to the reality of where you were, prompting you to finish crossing the street. Now back on the curb, you turned to him again.

"Um, Toji," you spoke, still getting used to the syllables.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"I, um... I want to make it clear I'm not looking to do anything tonight," you enforced, projecting as much as you could muster. "But I have one more thing to take care of, if you'd like to come along."

You had your eyes focused on the tips of your flats, so if he was in disapproval-which you assumed from his silence-he didn't need to do much with his expression to hide it. But eventually, you heard his voice, relenting with an exhale that could've been interpreted as both disappointed and relieved: "Sure."

And so, silently, he followed behind you as you traversed the city, inferring it was a path you traveled often as you didn't stop your pace once to look at a map or even the street signs.

It wasn't far from where you'd started; a few corners later, the two of you were in a residential area that he didn't recognize, although the shady alleys between dingy apartment buildings weren't much different from where he lived. He knew teaching didn't pay much, but he was still surprised that you brought him here.

"Just wait here a moment," you told him, and he did as you knocked on the nearby door with the small bag of groceries in your other hand. He waited patiently and, watching you do the same in front of the grimy door, he considered the possibility that you two weren't so different after all.

But then the door opened, and you said something, and you were only a couple feet away so he heard, but it was as if all of a sudden there were miles between you two.

"Hi!" you'd chirped. "Is Megumi home?"

Everything else faded into muffles. He watched, paralyzed, as you handed over your groceries to a young brown-haired girl who looked vaguely--uncomfortably--familiar, but he didn't process a single thing either of you said. All he could hear was that M-word ringing throughout his head.

Meanwhile, you continued to converse in front of the drab doorway, telling the girl that you had to get going because you had some business to attend to, unconsciously pointing your thumb in the direction of where you had left Toji. You bid farewell to her with a smile and turned to where you were just pointing but, immediately, your smile dropped, as did your eyes to the corner on the pavement where he'd just stood-as if you'd find him there, hidden among the weeds sprouting from the cracks in the sidewalk. But, no-it would seem that the man named Toji was already long gone.

***

previous | series masterlist | next - should b available by next week :')

#jjk x reader #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #fanfic #my writing #writing #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you

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sorcerersandskillusers · 9 months

Text

Since Asagiri refuses to give BEAST Dazai any closure im going to do it myself. Here is a short story I wrote, I'm actually really proud of this one even though it was painful to write.

Dazai was lying face down on hard asphalt. The fall had been a long one, long enough for him to reflect on most of what he’d done to get there. It was a miserable life, but in the end, it hadn’t been his to live in the first place. He had made peace with it as he hit the ground.

So why was he conscious?

After laying there for God knows how long, hoping his mind would stop thinking and he would slip into the oblivion he had wanted for so long, Dazai opened his eyes. He was face down on a pavement somewhere, strangely he did not see any blood on the ground beneath him. Confused he raised his head a little to see more of where he was. He was on the edge of a small road, opposite him trumpet vines grew along a hedge, rustling in a quite breeze. Dazai sat bolt upright. none of this was right, he shouldn’t be anywhere near here, he had jumped from the mafia headquarters. He should be dead.

As his sense’s returned to him, he realised his skin felt strange, looking down he saw that Mori’s scarf was gone. But that was soon overshadowed when he noticed his arms. His bandages were gone and his forearms were smooth and free of scars. Reaching up Dazai felt his face. Sure enough, the bandages that always covered his eye were gone too. Something was really wrong.

Finally, Dazai looked around, hoping for some kind of indication about how he got here, but there wasn’t any. He avoided turning around for as long as possible, but in the end, his burning curiosity overwhelmed his fear and he looked to the house next to him.

It was exactly how it had been the first time, the unassuming little house, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. It was shabby, cramped and unassuming as well as the place Dazai had wanted to see more then anywhere else in the world for the past six years.

He got up, his body moving on its own, as it carried him towards the front door. He was briefly distracted by the toys he could see left in the grass, those had defiantly not been their last time, but he pushed it aside for now. Opening the door, he braced himself. He’s not here, he moved out years ago. Nevertheless, he still made his way inside, stumbling a little as fought the aching in his chest. It was almost exactly the same as in his memories. The kitchenet where Oda had cooked for him, the side room with the bed he had been strapped too, even the bookshelf with the book Oda always tried to read too him lying flat on the top. Dazai stood there for a second, drinking the room in. This must be purgatory, he thought as he fought back tears. He would be forced to confront everything he had turned away as punishment for everything he did. It was a far crueller punishment then any he had ever used, but he still felt it would be worth it, just knowing he had helped one version of Odasaku find happiness. He would gladly suffer for that.

He was surprised when a loud whistle came from the kitchen. Whipping around, he saw that the old iron kettle Oda always used was boiling away. He only had a moment to ponder this before he heard foot steps coming down the hall. Every atom in his body wanted to run away, to hide from who he knew was coming, but something held him there, frozen as the figure emerged into the corridor.

“Oh…”

Dazai’s expression broke, he looked like all the years of pain he had hidden so carefully were about to come bursting out of his skull. Infront of him stood someone he wanted to see more then anyone else in the world, and who he had sworn to never let himself see again.

Odasaku stood there, the same blank expression he always had, mixed with a look of surprise. He looked at Dazai for a few seconds, before he began to walk towards him a gentle concern growing on his face.

“Odasaku…” Dazai spoke for the first time since waking up here, his voice was hoarse and wavered as searched for something to say.

“Odasaku I’m s-” But he was cut off by Oda pulling him into a tight hug.

“Dazai, I’m sorry I left you alone, I was selfish and because of that, you went through so much more suffering.”

Dazai was shaking badly, he tried to argue with him, tried to tell him he had nothing to apologise for, that he was the one who chose to do all the awful things he did. But no words came out, instead for the first time he could remember, Dazai Osamu wept.

He cried and cried, years of isolation, fear and guilt pouring out of him like water from a burst damn, Oda held him tight the whole time not saying anything. They stood there for a very long time, maybe hours, maybe years, neither of them letting go of each other. Until Dazai felt he had no more tears left in him.

After they broke apart, Oda led Dazai to the bed he had once spent so long in, then he went to the kitchen and brought out two cups of tea. They drank in silence for some time, neither sure what to say to the other. In the end Dazai spoke first.

“Where are we?” He asked, although the answer didn’t seem to matter much too him.

“I don’t know.” Oda replied simply. “I woke up here at some point, and I stayed to look after the children.”

“Children?” Dazai asked, as he remembered to toys, he had seen outside.

“They were all here when I woke up, I tried to apologise for everything, but they wouldn’t listen to a word I said, I guess not much changed there. I stayed with them until they were ready to go, although it has been very lonely without them. I thought the quiet would give me more time to write, but I think it was more distracting than anything else.”

“If they all left then why are you still here.” Dazai asked confused.

“I needed to wait for someone, someone who I hope will not come here for a very long time.”

Dazai looked down, a deep sadness returning to his eye’s “I’m not the person you’re waiting for.”

“No. you’re not…” Oda agreed

Dazai said nothing.

“But I still can’t let you leave until your wounds have fully recovered.”

Dazai looked up at him, not daring to hope he meant what Dazai thought he did.

“I hope I won’t need to tie you up this time.” Oda said plainly.

Dazai snorted “Don’t worry, I think ill stick around this time, I can’t leave, I still need to make you that super hard tofu I promised.”

Oda nodded “I’ll look forward to it.”

The two of them talked for a long time after that. The wounds Dazai now carried were deep, far deeper than any he had before, and they would take a very long time to heal. But that just left both of them more time together; Dazai told Oda stories about his life in the Agency and eventually told him the whole story of how he had ended up here in the first place. Oda told Dazai about his past, and how he gave up killing. He even let Dazai read the novel he had been working on. Time was strange in that place. They talked for as long as they needed, and when it was time for Dazai to leave, he did so knowing that Oda would follow him at some point. But until then Oda waited in that house, for a person he hoped would not come for a long, long time.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai #dazai osamu #beast dazai #bungou stray dogs beast #bsd beast #my writing #bsd odasaku #bsd fanfic #oda sakunosuke #bungo stray dogs odasaku #odasaku #beast dazai is one of the most tragic characters ever written

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ostrichchariot · 5 months

Text

Stuff has been really exciting recently. Jaysohn's really been enjoying it.

There's kind of really a lot of stuff happening right now.

Uncle Thorn's talking to the humans with Auntie Viola and Grandma, and Jaysohn's not tired, he's not, mum! But she told him they should go back and get some rest anyway now that things have calmed down a bit, and she said maybe they might see Sybil on the way. So maybe going back to the room for a bit wouldn't be so bad. And anyway, Lila's probably tired.

They don't see actually Sybil on the way, which is disappointing.

Lila settles down really fast like she always does, and then just lies there staring off into the distance thinking and not even running around while she does it or anything, like she always does. She just stays there listening, because she's really really clever, and that does mean she is also just a tiny bit boring sometimes.

Mum is sitting by the door, staring out into the warren.

"Mum?" says Jaysohn. "Are you going to die?"

Her head whips round in an instant, and she stares at him for a moment before she responds. "Am I- what do you mean, sweetie?"

"Well, you know, since you died but you came back, does that mean you'll never die?" asks Jaysohn.

She looks at him. She opens her mouth, then closes it again. She reaches out a paw, and places it, with excruciating gentleness, on Jaysohn's shoulder.

This is the flesh she tore into with raw power and savagery. This is the muscle she stitched back together with sheer force of will.

Under the fur, there is a scar, now.

Jaysohn thinks it probably looks really cool, and isn't sure why mum looks sort of heartbroken when he leans into her touch a little.

"I'm so sorry," she says. "I'm so, so sorry, Jaysohn."

Her eyes glisten with tears, and that's sad, but it's ok. Jaysohn doesn't mind, as long as she doesn't look like she did in that moment where she stopped being all weird and attacking him, and then stared at him like she wanted to be gone. Like she was gone, just not on the outside.

"Come on, mum," says Jaysohn. "I'm fine. I'm really strong, you know! Anyway, Auntie Viola exploded those humans, and you healed me, so it doesn't even matter!"

"It does matter." says mum, voice unusually forceful. "I hurt you, and that was wrong. That was unforgivable."

"Well you didn't do it on purpose, did you?" says Jaysohn. "Obviously. I could tell. Plus I know you would never do that unless someone else was doing it. Otherwise it wouldn't make any sense."

Mum's eyes soften, and she nuzzles him gently, pressing her nose into his shoulder fur. "No. No, I suppose it wouldn't," she says. "I love you, Jaysohn. I'm so glad you're alright. I'm so proud of you, you did so well out there."

"I caught the cloudless thunder," says Jaysohn.

She pulls back and stares at him, as though she hadn't quite realized what that meant until this moment. "...You did," says says. "You did. It can't hurt you. Can it?" She blinks a couple of times, looking almost overwhelmed. "You- you're very strong, Jaysohn."

"I know right?" says Jaysohn.

She looks at him, eyes soft. "You should get some rest, now. It's been a long day."

Jaysohn- well. He almost protests. He really does.

But it has been a long day.

And- there's something that's different, now, in mum's eyes. He doesn't know quite what it is. He just knows that it's not the same as it was yesterday.

"Only if you do too," he says.

"Oh," says mum.

She closes her eyes for a few seconds. It's quiet. Oddly calm, given everything that's just happened.

"I suppose it's safe now," she says. "Isn't it?"

"Yeah," says Jaysohn. "You know nothing's gonna mess with us. Auntie Viola exploded those humans."

"Yes," says mum, gently amused, "I think you mentioned that, sweetie."

"Well if Auntie Viola and Grandma are out there, no one'll ever get in at all unless they let them in on purpose."

"Your Uncle Thorn is doing a very important job out there too, speaking to the humans," says mum, for no reason Jaysohn can see.

"Yeah, he's there too I guess?" he says, a little confused.

"Alright," says mum, stifling a laugh, "let's sleep now." She curls up beside Lila, leaving a space open on the other side for Jaysohn.

Jaysohn wriggles in next to her.

She is warm. He can hear her heartbeat.

"You're warm," he says.

"I am," she says. "It's nice."

He moves just a bit closer to her.

"We can rest now," says Tula. "And in the morning, we can decide what we want to do next."

#dimension 20 #burrow's end spoilers #burrows end spoilers #burrow’s end spoilers #tula burrows end #jaysohn #lila burrows end #my writing

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bxsotted · 2 years

Text

Late Night Confessions [Stephen Strange x F!Reader]

pairing : Stephen Strange x F!reader

synopsis : Stephen ponders about his life as he lays next to reader at night, three words stuck in the back of his throat.

words : 580

themes : angst w fluff

warnings : none

💖 Reblogs and feedback to support my work 💖

A/N : Second drabble!! I hope you guys enjoy it - I'm thinking of posting next one of the pieces that I'm most proud of, though that's for a different character that Benedict plays (Patrick Melrose). I've been hyperfixating on this man for months now and I haven't been able to find lots of pieces for him, so I'm gonna take it into my own hands and write a ton of pieces for him.

The moonlight shone through the window as the wind moved the curtains softly, carrying the whispers of the night through the dark bedroom. Entangled in the sheets they laid next to each other. He watched as her chest moved up and down calmly, her breathing lull and quiet. It washed him with an overwhelming sense of peace; one that he thought he’d never feel again.

His life had been chaos, and a lonely one at that. He never really knew how to connect with others after the death of his sister and when he did, he fell into his self sabotaging habits. He pushed everyone away. Even the most patient of people would find their limits when it came to him. He was stubborn, selfish and rude; not to mention egocentric. But thanks to a twist of fate, he was forced to change.

That was something he never thought in a million years he’d do - be grateful for the accident.

At the moment it had been agonizing, crippling. The desperation took control of his life and he did what he did best - he pushed. Stephen thought he had been pushing towards the right direction. He failed to realize that as he was doing so he had also begun to shove. He drove those who cared for him away.

Spiraling down into his own hysteria, blinded by the anguish that enslaved him, he spat those bitter words to the one who swore to be by his side.

Christine deserved better and she knew that.

He knew that.

So he shoved her away.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Everything happened so fast but he was quick to adapt. He had made peace with the thought of being alone for the rest of his life. It was better that way. He had always considered himself to be married to his job anyway. But then she came in. Unannounced and unashamed she walked into the Sanctum and into Stephen’s world claiming she had heard a voice calling her.

He was pretty sure he had to thank The Ancient One for that.

And so here they were, years later, besides each other, their bodies melting into one another. His eyes drinking in every part of her and the way the moon seemed to adore her as much as he did. Softly he grabbed her hand, brought it up to his lips and planted a tender kiss on the back of her palm.

“I love you.”

It would be an understatement to say that he was terrified of how easy it was to love her. His heart and soul turned prisoners of the feelings that had so easily flourished for the woman that was laying beside him.

The words that had been dancing around in his mind finally came out. They seemed light, barely a whisper, but the weight that they carried could drown a thousand men.

[Y/N] smiled softly and opened her eyes slowly. Half-lidded and heavy with dreams, she sighed as she looked at Stephen’s stunned expression. She wrapped her manicured fingers around Stephen’s scarred hand, giving it a soft squeeze for reassurance. She mimicked his action and brought his hand to her lips, giving it a loving kiss.

“I love you too.”

Simple words that bear a great story. It was at this moment that he realized that she’d always be there. She’d never leave. He had finally met someone who would push right back whenever he tried to shove.

#benedict cumberbatch #doctor strange #stephen strange #marvel #stephen strange x reader #dr strange #doctor strange x reader #dr stephen strange #dr strange x reader #dr stephen strange x reader #stephen strange fic #stephen strange blurb #doctor strange fanfiction #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange x you #stephen strange x you

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pumpkzsafeplace · 13 days

Text

sa.m│dealing with the guilt.

!! trigger warning because this is a sensitive topic & can be triggering for others. !!

the aftermath of the incident can sometimes be as scarring as the incident itself.

for me personally, i did my best to block out the entire incident until it came back to haunt me. i even tried to re-write the incident in my head, in hopes to convince myself that it never happened.

because i was petrified of becoming a victim.

i was petfried of having this incident haunt over me for the rest of my life, i was petfried of this being part of how people would view me in the future.

i also remember feeling hollow and guilty.

mainly because i blamed myself.

i would replay the incident over in my head and pin point moments where i could have fought harder, despite knowing how little it would have helped deep down inside.

i think one of the hardest pills to swallow was the statement everybody says when they find out,

"it wasn't your fault"

even though they're right, you still feel like it was.

& that guilt, those feelings, are what really eat you up inside.

a lot of people think that once the incident is over and done with, that things just magically merge back to normal. they don't understand how it effects our entire way of life, both physcial and mental.

they don't understand how hard we fight just to appear like our normal selves,

and for that, i want to say i'm so bloody proud of each & every one of you.

gif isn't mine

#sa tw #tw warning #agere blog #agere community #agere little #little community #age regression #pumpkinposts

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m-jelly · 1 year

Note

Oh! Idea! It’s kinda sad though

Can you make a Levi x reader where the reader was like this powerful immortal warrior who was well renowned throughout the walls (she remembers a time before titans and the walls existed).she meets Levi after she saves kuchels life (yes she’s alive in this,as are Isabel and farlen).Levi is not a fan of her at first as he thinks she is stuck up and doesn’t see them as people because there from the underground but as they get to know each other through expeditions and daily tasks at scout headquarters he warms up to her and eventually is crushing hard.on a night of them just talking and stargazing on the roof she reveals that she knew there from the underground and doesn’t really care and actually really admires him and how strong he and the others are to have lived through that as she was in a similar situation as a child (think original!Ymir as a slave) and she knows how hard it is to fight and get out of that sort of situation and unfortunately she didn’t have

Someone like Erwin to help her escape and had to claw her own way out of the slums of her homeland (a nameless kingdom that has long since fallen ). The ending is super fluffy and maybe smexy 😏 ? Where Levi worships her body and her scars and tells her how proud of her he is that she survived for so long

So, this is a lot of parts being asked for and is almost a long fic ask. I'm going to say that everything in your ask has happened and I'm going to pick it up after the war has ended. I hope that's okay!

Things are different

Pairing: Post-War!Levi x Fem!Reader

Genre and tags: canon AU, fluff, slight angst, romance, heart-to-heart, talking, connecting, lifespan change, suggestive, beginnings of smut, body worship.

Concept: After Eren was killed and the titan curse is broken, your immortality also ended. You slowly come to terms with your new life and try to wrap your head around life as a mortal. You open up to your lover, Levi, and let him into your heart and soul. You two connect even more and begin to remind each other of the love you share.

Note: This story contains suggestive material.

Tag list: @levisbrat25 @ladycheesington @skittlelover69 @nbinairyn @nyxiieluna @galactict3a @notgoodforlife @li-anne @strawberrybunny123 @demonsimp6

You smiled softly at Levi's deep voice vibrating through the house as he spoke to his mother and two friends, all had been saved from a tragic fate because of you. You were happy that Levi had so many around him and the titans didn't devastate those around him.

Your cheeks burned when the door closed as your guests left. Your heart throbbed in your chest as Levi's heels tapped on the wooden floor and got closer to you. You blushed as you kept cutting up veg for a nice meat pie.

His feet came to a stop and he observed you. He could see you were a little flustered by him. He loved that after all these years he made you giddy with love. He watched you closely before placing his hand on your bum and kissing your cheek.

You smiled softly and enjoyed the affectionate act. You gasped when you felt a sharp pain coming from your finger. "Ow." You looked down and saw you'd sliced your finger a little. "Oh..."

Levi grabbed your wrist and lifted your hand. "You okay? Let me look." He inspected and hummed as you remained quiet. "Doesn't look deep. Let me take care of you."

He guided you to the sink and cleaned the wound. He grabbed his aid kit and placed some ointment on your wound before wrapping it up. He checked the rest of your hand before sitting you down and cleaning up the blood.

He finished up and noticed you'd still not said a single thing yet. He looked over at you to see you were staring at the bandage on your finger. He felt his heart sting with worry. You'd had moments where you'd stare off into the distance. You were different ever since Eren died and all those cursed were freed.

Levi dragged a chair close and sat before you. He held your hands and smiled softly as he spoke your name to you and grabbed your attention. He tilted his head a little and smiled again when you locked eyes with him. He gave your hands a gentle squeeze.

He kissed your cut finger. "Talk to me."

You welled up a little. "It's just...before when I got cut, I would heal quickly and a scar would be left, but now I just bleed and stay cut for a while." You frowned for a while. "It just got me thinking. I'm mortal now and before I was, I used to just throw myself around with little care. I am covered in scars from me not protecting myself better because I just thought I'm immortal and I'll be okay." You shook your head. "It's not the case anymore. Things are dangerous and I need to take better care of myself." You sniffed a little. "Forgive me for getting emotional. This has taken me a while to face."

Levi softly kissed your lips. "Don't be sorry, okay? This is a big change for you. You went from not being able to die to be able to. You went from crying about not being able to grow old with me to worrying that you might die before me."

You laughed a little and rubbed your tears away. "Must be so stupid to you."

"Not at all. You're an incredible woman." He massaged your hands. "It must have been so hard to be alone all those years and to watch so many die." He sighed. "It was hard for me to see some scouts die, but countless people?" He kissed your hands. "I love you. I'm never going to leave you and I'll make sure you're protected."

You rubbed your tears as you smiled. "Levi, you need looking after and protecting. You have injuries."

He placed his hand on your heart. "So do you." He smiled softly. "Just because your wounds aren't visible doesn't mean they don't hurt."

You sniffed a little. "Thank you."

He kissed you before standing. "Let's finish dinner together."

You smiled softly before joining your husband in the kitchen and making the rest of the pie. You started making the sides and the drinks as Levi set the table up. You dished out dinner and sat with your man as you chatted about simple things.

After eating, Levi cleaned up and made you sit in the living room with a book. You wrapped up in a blanket and cradled your tea cup in your hands. You smiled at your husband when he climbed under the blanket and joined you for cuddles.

Levi kissed your temple as his hand began to wander over your thighs. "You're perfect."

You blushed. "Thank you, but I'm not sure."

He leaned closer and kissed your neck. "You really are."

You hummed a little. "Levi." You gasped when his hand drifted up high between your legs. "Mm, Levi."

He pressed his lips against yours and lowered you down against the sofa. His fingers tangled in your hair as he massaged your scalp. His tongue skillfully moved against yours as you were led to bubble-filled happiness inside you. You were in utter bliss.

Levi pulled back and sighed. "I love you so much. You are perfect and being with you, meeting you, marrying you and spending the rest of my life with you is the best thing to ever happen to me."

Your cheeks burned at Levi's sweet words. "My life is better with you. You are the only one I have left in this world. I love you and I'll forever be yours. I know my life will be scary now that I'm not immortal, but I know you'll be there for me every step of the way."

"Always." He slowly popped the buttons on your shirt to reveal your wonderful body. He sighed as he took in your soft skin with some scars. "You are incredible."

"I have a lot of scars. They remind me that I was careless."

Levi leaned down and kissed a few. "They show me how hard you worked to survive." He moved his hands up your body and unclipped your bra. He removed it and looked down at your body. "You are so beautiful."

"But..."

He captured your lips. "I love you and I'm so proud of you."

You welled up. "Really?"

"So fucking proud."

You wrapped your arms around Levi and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. "I love you, Levi. I'm proud to be with you and love you." You played with his hair and hummed a laugh. "Now, please make love to me."

Levi growled against your lips and started kissing down your body. "Oh, I will, my darling." He kissed your pelvis making you blush. "But first, I eat."

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badbatchblog · 15 days

Text

Hello everyone! This is Omega. Since we've just started up this blog, I thought it would be a good idea to have us introduce ourselves!

I'll go first. Like I said, I'm Omega! I'm the newest member of the Bad Batch, and although I look like the youngest, I'm actually the oldest! I used to live on Kamino working as Nala Se's assistant until my brothers came to rescue me after the Empire took over. I'm really good at using an energy bow and playing strategy games. I have a Tooka doll named Lula that my brother Wrecker gave me. And my Trooper doll too! Oh, and I have a pet! Her name is Batcher, she's a Lurca Hound. Gonky and AZI are part of our family too, but I don't think they'll be joining the blog. Umm. I'm not sure what else to say about myself! I'm still trying to figure things out, honestly. But I'm excited to meet new people and chat with all of you!

Ok, here are my brothers! -Omega ☀

*****

heya everyone! I'm Wrecker! I like to blow stuff up and eat good food and cause a ruckus! the last part is what Tech and Crosshair say I do anyway haha. I'm the biggest and strongest of all of us and proud of it! I also get called the sweetest one by other people, but idk I think Omega is the sweetest one. I do think of myself as a nice guy tho! just don't get on my bad side hehe. uhh let's see, what else... oh! I only have one eye! my other one's a fake one. if you saw the scar on my head, you'd understand why! oh yeah and I know Omega said I gave Lula to her... which I did! but we still share her. Omega just gets to keep her more often. I don't need Lula THAT much! ...don't listen to anything Crosshair says otherwise. ok I think that's all! lookin' forward to talk with you guys sometime!

-Wrecker 💪🏽

*****

Hello. This is Tech. I am the main source of information and the main mechanic for the Bad Batch. I possess a high level of intelligence and dexterity that allows for me to bear these titles. I set up this blog as a means for us to get to know the people of this website better, with the hope that it will provide some much-desired information about the society culminated here. In fact, it would be much appreciated if we could get specific information from those who choose to interact with us; anything you're willing to provide will do. Oh. Omega has informed me that this was supposed to just be about myself... I'm afraid the rest will have to wait until another time. Or perhaps saved for potential inquirers. Regardless, I look forward to whatever is gleaned from this experience.

Addendum: It appears as though there's some confusion surrounding my existence. Misinformation, if you will. Well, I can assure you all that this is one hundred percent the real me, and any rumors surrounding my death have been greatly exaggerated. If you require further proof, by all means, ask for it. That is all.

-Tech 🧠

*****

Echo here. Wrecker already stated it, but I'm actually a former member of the squad. I'm also a former member of the 501st Legion. I still consider myself a part of the family though (and the others do as well), which I appreciate. I have several cybernetic augmentations and limbs, curtesy of the Techno Union, thanks to an accident I endured a few years ago. It's fine, I'm over it now. I've accepted who I am, and if other people can't, then that's their problem. I probably won't be as active here as the others, but I'm more than happy to answer any questions thrown my way.

Thanks. -Echo 🔌

*****

hey. name's Hunter. i'm the leader of this squad. i have enhanced senses and am good with blades. my face has half a tattoo on it. i like to keep my hair back with a bandana. don't mess with my squad or you'll regret it. i don't know what else to say. i'm no good with technology stuff.

(Addendum: It's true, it took him 15 minutes just to write all of this out. -Tech)

-Hunter 💀

*****

The name's Crosshair. I'm a sharpshooter, and the best damn one you'll ever meet. If you want to know more about me so badly, then ask me yourself. Information like that doesn't come for free, after all. I don't care how much Omega fusses at me about it either. Like she's doing right now. Yes, that's correct. Keep fussing, kid, and I'll just keep mentioning it. Pout all you want. Cry, even. Anyway... my actions speak louder than my words. Send me questions if you want, I don't care. Just know that you're more likely to get a decent conversation out of me than Hunter. The man can't even capitalize his sentences correctly. So go ahead. Ask me something. Just don't expect anything... pleasant in response.

Oh... and Wrecker was totally lying about Lula.

-Crosshair ❌

#the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch rp #tbb rp #mun note: please read the pinned post before interacting; thank you!!

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edensrose · 1 year

Note

babyyy I'm so happy the vamp AU is out, it's so exciting!

I'd like to request a little something:

❀ character(s): Eönwë ❀ prompt(s): either (authority) or (capture), whatever you prefer~

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ eönwë ⠀〳 hunter!reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. after being separated from your once colleague and closest friend, you went the way of the hunter as it was your birthright. the last thing you expected was to face off the man who once held your heart — now turned vampire. and serving the very ones you fought against ( violence ៸៸ blood ៸៸ biting ៸៸ 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅-𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 ៸៸ choking ៸៸ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌! 𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒘𝒆 )

· ⊰ note. anything for you darling <3 I really hope you enjoy! had so much fun with this hehe

˙ ˖ lore post ៸៸ character sheet ៸៸ masterlist

“Move aside, Eönwë.’’

Hilt in hands and drawn back with the end flushed against your shoulder, your blade glistens in the shimmering silver light. You bite back a curse, to have the moon shine down on your hallowed sword was a mockery to not only you but your people. Or perhaps it was the face reflected in it that angers you more. Those once azure hues that grew dark. Those elegant features — stunning as usual, but hardened by the frost of his turn.

“I cannot.’’

His refusal tightens your jaw and rage spreads throughout your chest, released by a bark of laughter to the moon that he served. “And why is that? Because it is your duty to serve those demons?” You care not for the way that his grip tightened on his sword. If anything, it lit the fire in your eyes brighter. Emotions ablaze and ready to burn down anything in your path. Including an old friend.

“I will not warn you again.’’ Taking a breath, Eönwë keeps his sword sheathed and stares you dead in the eye. Peeking from the spruce trees behind him were the towers of the palace. Dark, mighty, and proud. As though they too sought to taunt you. “If it is blood that you wish to shed I will not humour you. Turn back to the way of which you came.’’

He offers you barely another glance as he turns on heel. Even with his cold demeanour that felt so foreign to you, his beauty prevailed in the moonlight. His white hair perfect in every strand, his blue eyes blessed by the illuminating night. Yet it is that same icy countenance that has your lungs looping around your heart. Tightening and strangling the last sliver of hope you dared to have.

You knew in your soul that the old Eönwë, the one who stayed up night after night alongside you to partake in stories of old — the one who smiled at you with the radiance of the sun — and the one who swore to protect you that fateful moment of daybreak. . . was long gone. He now turns from you. Walking away as though you were nothing. Abandoning you as he did on that frightful night. Beneath the same moon.

Suddenly, the gold scars beneath your clothing felt like a mockery too. Their worth that urged you to move on diminished with his fleeting figure. A painful reminder that it mattered not what you went through, and how much you tried to make him see the light. Eönwë was long gone. What stood before you is not your old friend, nor your would-be-lover.

What strayed before your very eyes is a demon.

A vampire.

And you,

Are a hunter.

Metal cuts through the air and in your blind rage you disregard everything that was of honour within you. Attacking him whilst his back was turned; truly going back on the way of the knight that you had sworn yourself to the entirety of your life. Then again, had he not as well?

However, Eönwë was not one to trifle with. He caught your movements from the corner of his eye and in a split second his blade abandoned his sheath. The clash of two sister swords, forged under the same master and with the same material, sends a powerful gust of wind sweeping through the forest. Yet neither of your budge. Locking eyes and gripping handles. A silent reminder, and promise, that neither would back down.

“You,’’ he breathes, brows narrowing. “Have lost all honour.’’

If the fire had not been lit long ago, now it raged within you. Eager to consume everything in your path — this entire damn forest if you had to.

“Do you think I give a damn about honour!?”

The stalemate is shattered by the sheer power of your stances and beneath the twilight sky — a war of hearts commences. Gold and silver flashes spill throughout the trees. Followed by the clashing of metal. The slicing of air. Dirt sweeps from the forest floor yet neither of you pays mind.

For every hit, he dealt two back. Swift. Unfaltering. But you could keep up. Always. For every slice, you deflect. Metal sings a song through the air. Blood paints the leaves. Still, you both dance. Swords clashing. Hearts roaring. You dash forward after a shove that left you skidding. Left, right, right, left. Your sword whistles through the air in a rhythm. And he gladly provides the accompaniment. Blocking each and every one of your deadly, rageful array of attacks. Dishing his own. Slicing your skin. As you do his.

A symphony of silver. A cacophony of clamours. He circles and throws his feet onto a rock. Elevating his body before kicking off and bringing his blade down upon you. Unfailing, you counter. Dodge, dart, swing, strike. Crimson splatters your clothes. His as well. Yet neither of you seize. Once more your swords clash. Both of you holding stance.

“Is it worth it?” You spit. Eyes ablaze — contrasting his icy ones. “Is it worth fighting me over those demons?”

“I could ask you the same.’’ He sneers.

“Do not dare turn this on me.’’ You seethe. “You promised me loyalty. I vowed it to you. Yet you turned your back on me! After everything we’ve been through! You joyfully took on their fangs!’’

The whites of his widen as they gape at you. You barely managed a look of effort on his face for the entire duration of the battle. Now, he stared at you with a newfound ferocity. Despite the howling of the wind and the pounding of your heart, you still hear his fleeting whisper loud and clear. Trembling, baneful.

“Do you think this was by choice?”

Even the breeze halted in sound. You barely heard breaths, barely decipher the slice of light until you’re fighting for your life and desperately dodging his slew of attacks. Brutal in every way. Lacking any mercy he once had for you. Still, you do not regret your words, because in your eyes it was true. Eönwë had abandoned you for the sake of vampirism. It is what you told yourself all those nights that you wept into your pillow. Reminiscing on the good old days with your fellow knight and former friend.

Perhaps it was that swell of emotions that threw you off of your game. Your excellency in skill had depleted drastically, as did your stamina as you narrowly dodges his strikes. Slices to your skin. Heart in your hand. You double back and are sent to the ground with one last attack. Eating dirt and seeping your blood into it as you gasp for the sweetness of air. Your sword clammers to the side and you scramble to your knees. Your hand shoots out to grab the hilt — only for it to be forced into the ground by a hard boot. Wrist joints releasing a faint, yet ugly cracking sound, you suck in a breath and glance up just in time to feel the chill of his blade against your throat. The tip threatens your pulse. Taunting it with its sharpness.

Peering down at you like the ravenous eyes of a hawk, cerulean is consumed by amber. Pupils constrict into slits and suddenly — you felt as though you would rather his cold, indifferent stare than the one of malice shining down upon you.

“You think. . .’’ that hungry gaze trails the streaks of blood not only upon your clothes but trickling down your exposed skin. Metal is aimlessly discarded on the floor and a tight grip circles the underneath your jaw as he abruptly cranes down. “That I wanted this?”

The tremble in his voice tells you all that you needed to know. Your other hand shoots up to attack but it is ultimately weighed down by a shimmer of gold. A bangle of his magic which soon encases your second wrist as well and pulls both of them behind your back. Rendering you helpless.

“To become one of these sickening creatures — incapable of the humanity I once cherished?”

Your voice is reduced to a series of pathetic chokes and grunts when his hand tightens around the soft flesh of your throat. Thumb bruising your jaw along with his index finger, he forces your head back to witness not only the quickening of your pulse but also the blood that drips from a wound on your temple down onto your neck.

“I would almost applaud you for your ignorance. Yet it seems that through it, you have forgotten one detail.’’ Leaning in, his cold aura brings goosebumps onto your skin. Or perhaps it was the evident loss of control in his eyes. Either way, the last thing you prepared for was the hard ground against your back. His hand sends you down, clamping on your throat to suppress any cries while his knees cage either side of you.

“That I was your Knight Captain and General. Even now. . . did you truly think you could get away with drawing your sword on me?”

In response to his taunt, you draw your tongue back and spit in his eye. Eönwë so much as grunts in response before his weight forces you further into the ground and his hand coerces your neck to arch. “Even now you still defy me. But not to worry,’’ Wiping his face, he cranes down until his lips meet a streak of your essence and he groans at the sweet, metallic taste of blood on his tongue after so long.

“I will be sure to remind you of your place.’’

Before you can even think of protesting, pain sends your nerves into a frozen state. Your muscles feel as though they are contracting, flaring — yet the scream ripped from your throat is restricted by the choking that you suffer. His cold lips and fangs contrast the warmth of your blood rushing from the bite wound he has dealt you. With your hands still bound and crushed under the weight of your back, you can do nothing but attempt to kick your legs and wriggle your body.

Eönwë’s free hand slips to your side. Caressing one of your ribs through your clothing with his fingers before abruptly applying pressure. A silent warning which leaves you both horrified and sends your limbs motionless. With your head limping to the side, you attempt to mask the pain. To curl your expression into one of disgust at the loud gulping ringing through your ears. Alas, the pain contorts your muscles into one of agony, and with every bite, a sharper cry forces its way past your lips.

“Eö-Eönwë,’’ gasping, you arch your back and flush your body against his. A strange feeling swirls in your abdomen. As though his coldness brought a sense of serenity and comfort over your form. “Eönwë p-. . .please, it hurts.’’

Even still. He parts, admires his work with the backlight of the moon casting a shadow over his face, before finding a new spot and indulging once more. Against your skin he rumbles an order, one that you could only decipher the second time around. “Not until you admit my authority.”

Despite the absolute misery that left your vision blurry and your body convulsing in response — you bite your tongue just a bit longer. Refusing to back down. Stubborn as ever. And oh, he knew that. Which is why his next onslaught was targeted directly at your collarbone. Smearing your neck and shoulders crimson until, at last, you concede.

“F-Forgive this foolish —’’ swallowing your pride was like downing a stone. Nevertheless, you push through. “ — one. . . it’s you, Eönwë. You are. . . superior.’’ Flicking your head to the side, you can only hope to save some semblance of face. “Please have mercy, General!”

It took a second. Maybe two. He delighted in the sweetness of your blood and wished to savour it for a moment longer. Soon he parts. With hellish stains dripping down his chin and glinting on his fangs. The tremble of his hands clutching onto your body was enough of an indicator that it took everything within him to keep from simply diving down and draining you dry. Make you bleed for him as his heart has for you. Since the day you were forced to part. Perhaps then you would be satisfied.

An angel is what you looked like. One tainted by his own instincts. Painted with that fatal crimson. Even now, you are still the most gorgeous being he has ever set his eyes on. A wounded angel, yes, but an angel no less.

‘You have gone too far,’ a voice echoes through his internal thoughts. ‘But she will finally be yours. As she seems to want so badly.’

Ice encases your form, yet to you his arms were warm. Heavenly. The same hands that dealt you such agony now brought you comfort. If whiplash did not make you dizzy, then blood loss certainly would.

And as your vision hazes out with the only thing but the glimmer of the moon being recognisable, still you hear his deep, melodious voice against your ear. “I will not let you slip from my grasp again, my dawn.’’ The tear that you shed is kissed away as you are hoisted up into his hold. He steps towards the castle, fighting back every better judgement that screamed at him to leave you be.

“You will be mine once more.’’

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#— ꒰🌺꒱ 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐬 ៸៸ tolkien ❜‧₊#eönwë #eönwë x reader #eonwe #eonwe x reader #vampire!eönwe #vampire!eonwe #the silmarilion #silm #tolkien #ainur #maiar #vampire!ainur au #vampire!au #writing

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