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lavendertales · 2 years

Text

Tongue twister—Eddie Munson x f!reader

summary: a dare gets taken a little too far.

word count: 3.3k

A/N: yep, here I am in the Eddie Munson pit as well. anyway:

WARNINGS: alcohol, mentions of drugs, some heavy making out, wandering hands, tension, mutual pining.

gif: @eivorswolfsmal

There’s a nervousness about you when you think about tonight. It’s no special occasion, yet your stomach churns at the thought and your pulse increases.

You love hanging out with Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Eddie.

Eddie.

Even the name makes you nervous.

Somehow, miraculously, you hadn’t given away the fact that you had the biggest crush on him. Either that, or everyone figured it out and they were kind enough to not mention it.

Which would’ve been horrendous news, really.

In the end, you agreed to hang out with the group, willing to eliminate any potential suspicions even before they arise.

Even though you knew everyone and their families for four years, you still weren’t certain how you got to the point where Eddie became omnipresent in your daily thoughts. Granted, he is a very lovely personality to have around, but it had gotten to quite a ridiculous degree. You always found yourself smiling at his silliest jokes, using literally any excuse to establish the littlest physical contact with him or simply looking at him from afar and admiring the spark in his eyes when he spoke about his hobbies and his love for music.

Yep. Safe to say you were smitten.

But you decided to carry that secret with you to the grave. It would’ve been a mess, and, given how close everyone in the group was with each other, it would’ve felt like you were dating them all at the same time.

“Hey. You good?”

Ah, the very reason of your inner torment, right by your side with those soft, puppy dog eyes that made you weak in the knees.

“Yeah,” you nod nervously.

“If not… let me know. I got some stuff that can help out.”

He winks at you and you frown in an attempt to disregard the feeling that gesture wakes in you.

“What kind of stuff are we talking here?” you ask, half curious and half amused.

But Eddie shushes you, bringing his index to his lips. The image makes you gulp this time, and you realize that it’s almost impossible for you to stop staring at his lips.

“Keep it down,” he warns you sweetly, leaning in towards you. “No reason to advertise to everyone here.”

“That makes me feel so special.”

He smiles, and you swear for a fleeting moment you catch him staring at your lips in return.

“That’s cause you are.”

The way he says it whilst looking up at you from your shoulder makes you ache with a burning and forbidden desire. While the rest of the group is fumbling around, getting their drinks and finally sitting on the floor of Steve’s living room, you and Eddie exchange a stare that, if you didn’t know any better, you might easily say is filled with nerve-wrecking tension.

“So… I take it you’re not gonna tell me about that stuff?”

Eddie smiles brightly, looking around before inching even closer to you—if that’s even possible.

“Depends on what you’re looking for,” he says. “If you wanna calm down, I recommend some pot. If you wanna have fun… well. I got a whole other range of stuff for that.”

“Oh, so the real deal?”

“The real deal. I’m talkin’… coke, ecstasy… real stuff.”

“We said stuff too many times.”

“So we have.”

You giggle as you notice Eddie’s face so up close to yours, but then the smile fades, and so does his. You find yourself staring at him once again, this time nearly begging him to make a move, whatever that may be. For another fleeting moment, you feel like there’s no one else around and that time itself freezes, allowing the two of you to simply exist in that one moment.

“We’re all set up, by the way,” Steve announces.

You separate from Eddie and clear your throat, looking around and noticing the group already on the floor in a circle, drinks in the middle.

“Set up for what, exactly?” Eddie asks.

“Game night. Wasn’t it obvious from the invite?”

“All you said was ‘let’s hang out’, so—“

“It’s game night, let’s leave it at that.”

You chuckle, noticing Robin’s glare your way as she sits on your right.

“What?” you ask bemusedly.

“Nothing.”

She purses her lips and takes a sip of her beer, adding nothing else and leaving you more confused than before.

“That’s your Sherlock Holmes glare,” you say.

Robin frowns at you. “My Sherlock Holmes glare?”

“Yeah, you know, when you want to figure something out you give a person that stare. If you wanna know something, you can just ask.”

“I got nothing.”

“Okay, then why—“

“I don’t know, you just seem… nervous and happy at the same time. And also very cozy next to Eddie.”

Your heart jumps in your throat as you swallow around it, trying to play things off as cool as possible.

“I’m cozy around all of you,” you laugh it off. “It’s nothing special.”

“I’d say comfortable, but cozy is a whole other thing. You seem different around him. In a good way though!”

You giggle nervously, grabbing a beer and taking a few sips before replying anything back at her. You fight with all you’ve got to not look at Eddie being immersed in a conversation with Steve.

“Look, all I’m saying is, you seem happy,” Robin concludes with a reassuring smile. “Given recent events, whatever’s causing that… it’s good. And it looks great on you, too.”

In the end, you don’t say anything in return. You find it futile. If Robin suspects something, you let her. She definitely has a knack for understanding emotional things a little bit better than the others.

After a while, you realize that game night had already begun with something called truth or dare. For several reasons, you suspect Steve is the brain behind that, but you let it slide because—well, you can’t argue that it isn’t fun.

The rules are simple: you spin a bottle, get asked truth or dare, and either you spill the beans or do something rather regrettable. You’ve seen plenty from the latter, and that’s precisely why, should the odds be against you tonight, you will undoubtedly go with the truth.

But not with the naked truth.

“Nance. Truth or dare?” Steve asks.

“Dare.”

“Ohh, look who’s being Miss Bold tonight!” Eddie comments.

Nancy giggles.

“Hit some of Jonathan’s weed.”

There are fugitive glares being exchanged, some noises of encouragement as well as surprise, but Nancy simply rolls her eyes, smiling all the while. Jonathan obeys, handing her the earthy-smelling cigarette, and Nancy completes her dare under the group’s congratulatory claps. Seconds later, she spins the bottle, which lands on you.

“Truth,” you immediately say.

Some roll their eyes and make funny faces at you.

“Guys, it’s her choice,” Nancy reminds them, then turns back to you. “Let’s see… oh, I got it! Okay. What’s one thing you would do if you knew there were no consequences?”

“Remember, full honesty,” Jonathan tells you.

“Let it all out. This is a safe space,” Steve adds.

You hesitate, gulping. You don’t look to your left where you know for a fact Eddie is staring at you. You cannot bring yourself to do that, not when you have to answer such a question. A seemingly innocent question, but with a lot more weight than the rest of the group can imagine.

“I guess… I would confess some things to someone without the fear of screwing things up or… any other consequences.”

“Ooh, what things?” Jonathan asks.

“And to whom?” Eddie jumps in.

This time you do look at him, eyes wide and fearful. You feel your heart going at the speed of light and you could faint on the spot if it wasn’t for the beer in your hand. You chug some more, then find courage to continue.

“No follow up questions,” you say.

Clearly some wanted to ask some more, but refrained themselves from doing so. You continue the game, enjoying it alongside your friends and sharing their laughter.

That is, until the bottle lands on Eddie and Steve.

“Don’t bother asking, Harrington, give me a good dare.”

“Alright, have it your way. I dare you… to kiss the most attractive person here. And notice that I charitably said person because… let’s be real here.”

He points to his own hair, to which the girls stifle chuckles.

“You really let the nickname ‘The Hair’ Harrington get to you,” Robin says.

“It is nice hair though,” Jonathan comments casually.

“Prettiest person, huh?” Eddie asks.

“Yep. Whoever you think is the most attractive here.”

You’re definitely not in the mood to see Eddie lock lips with anyone, but you can’t exactly comment out loud against it, so you suck it up. You purse your lips in anticipation, your brows furrowed in confusion as the group’s eyes land on you.

Within the following two seconds, you notice why.

Eddie’s face is in such close proximity to yours, you might faint. You hold your breath, eyes wide staring into his.

That’s one of the best things about Eddie: his eyes. His whole persona might be exuberant and lively, but his eyes are soft and soothing.

“Can I?” he checks with you.

Oh God, being so considerate and respectful too? You might explode soon.

“What—uh—are you sure?” you ask, utterly dumbfounded.

“It’s just a kiss, right?”

Wrong.

No, it’s not just a kiss. It’s the kiss.

It’s the kiss you’ve been dreaming about for who knows how long, and, by the looks of it, it’s about to happen in a less than ideal situation.

“It’s just a kiss, c’mon!” Steve encourages you.

You doubt you’ve ever had Eddie so close to you and it’s making you dizzy. All you can smell are remnants of Jonathan’s joint and Eddie’s store-bought cologne. The aftertaste of beer in your mouth is making you feel oddly self-conscious, but you doubt he would notice. Or would he? He drank beer too, he wouldn’t notice. What if he does and he hates it on a girl’s breath?

Oohh boy, you’re spiraling. This can’t be good.

“Let’s get this over with then,” you smile, hoping to disguise your nerves.

Eddie smirks—smirks!—and your heart threatens to jump out of your chest completely. The buildup is filled with wild sensations you haven’t felt before individually, let alone all at once. Your whole body is heated up, and nothing happened yet.

But then, Eddie cups your cheek and pulls your face closer to his, and you swear you go into cardiac arrest.

His lips are impossibly soft, just as you had imagined; they press gently against yours at first, forming a tender, caring kiss. You feel somewhat eased—for a split second.

Everyone’s cheers are blocked out when the kiss deepens. Any sound, any image, they all fade. All you can feel is Eddie’s presence around you, on you, and the desire to have so much more is sparked in an instant.

Both his hands hold your cheeks as your mouth opens to allow him more access, and Eddie gladly uses the moment to his advantage. He kisses you hungrily now, almost eating you alive with just his lips. It takes every ounce of self-control you have to not moan in his mouth because good lord, this is heavenly.

“Alright, we got it, dare completed!”

Steve’s voice reaches your ears and you break things off, though it does not come with ease. Surprisingly enough, once that first touch was initiated, you both realize how comfortable and warm it feels to be with each other.

Lips swollen and pupils dilated, you stare at Eddie with shock, not quite sure what to say. You hear vague complaints in the background regarding the “rating of the dare” and that the game should continue, but your blood boils in your veins and your mind is about to explode at the thought that Eddie chose to kiss you. Out of everyone in that room, Eddie chose you.

To Eddie, you are the most attractive person in that room. You wrestle to come to terms with this knowledge.

“Wasn’t so bad, was it?” Nancy tries to smooth things over.

“Not so bad? They were swallowing each other,” Steve makes a face.

“Don’t be jealous cause you didn’t get picked,” Robin scolds him.

You catch her eyes, seemingly encouraging you. The kiss clearly confirmed Robin’s theories, and now it might as well just be out in the open.

Eddie calls out your name, but you excuse yourself and stand up, rushing to the first room you can find.

You don’t know whose bedroom it is, but you don’t care. You shut the door behind you and close your eyes, trying to breathe. You seldom allow yourself to think of a potential kiss with Eddie or wonder how good of a kisser he might be, but that kiss just made it so much worse.

Now you have confirmation that he is, in fact, a great kisser. And just how the hell are you supposed to live with this knowledge and carry on with your life as usual?

But Eddie chose to kiss you. He thinks you are the most attractive person there.

It must mean something, right?

There’s a knock on the door, startling you. Your body is pressed up against the door and you can feel the knock getting insistent. Then, you hear Eddie’s calm voice calling you out.

“Are you okay? Can I come in?”

“Sorry that I basically ran away.”

“Nothing to worry about. Can we at least talk about it?”

You falter, though you crave to see him. Wild, you think. You literally saw him a few seconds ago, and now you actually miss him like you haven’t seen him in days.

You stand back and open the door, allowing Eddie in. His face radiates an apologetic expression, and you hate to think you could be the cause of that.

“I didn’t run away because of you,” you say. “It’s not because of you.”

“Was it the kiss? Was it not—?”

“No, no! No, the kiss was… it was…”

Your tongue glazes over your bottom lip, the little action catching Eddie’s attention. He doesn’t do anything to hide the fact that he is blatantly staring at your lips, and it makes you gulp again.

“I really liked it,” you finally say.

“Good. Good. Cause I thought—you know, maybe you hated it—“

“Hated it? Are you serious?”

Hands in his back pockets, Eddie shrugs and stares at you, almost begging for an explanation of some sort.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I do. It was one hell of a kiss, and… otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed you back like that because I’ve been thinking about it for so long and—“

Eddie raises his brows, approaching you with a little more confidence than before.

“You thought about us kissing?” he asks rather coyly.

And it’s quite the image for sore eyes.

“Yeah,” you admit rather embarrassed, but also eased.

“And?”

You chuckle. “You got nothing to worry about. You’re a great kisser, Eddie Munson.”

He makes a fist, excitedly jumping in the air for a while, and you giggle some more.

“I wouldn’t worry about it either if I were you,” he reassures you.

“Oh. Thanks!”

“And uh… you’re not the only one who’s thought about that.”

That wipes your smile off your face pretty fast, replacing it with shock.

“Really?” you ask.

He nods so cutely you almost tremble. Instead, you clear your throat and try to come to terms with that knowledge as well.

God, anything else and you’re gonna get a migraine.

“I thought about… plenty of things, actually,” Eddie continues.

“Like what?”

He comes closer to you, licking his lips as he stares at yours.

“This is a conversation after two, three beers,” he teases.

“Or… this is a conversation we can have after one beer, in an empty bedroom.”

You both raise your eyebrows, unsure as to where your soaring confidence rose from, but embracing it nonetheless.

“I thought about kissing you a lot,” Eddie makes it a speech. “Everywhere, all over your body. All of the sounds you’d make…”

“Oh.”

Yeah, you weren’t prepared to hear that. It made you blush in all kinds of shades of red and set your body on fire.

“In all my scenarios, you sound damn good,” he finishes, one hand barely touching the hem of your shirt, as if testing the water.

“That’s—just as well.”

“And why is that?”

“Cause you sound damn good in my scenarios too.”

He can’t take it anymore; the more he stares at you, talking about making out and touching and sounds… he nearly gets hard in an instant.

This time around, he doesn’t hesitate in pulling you in. He’s making known the fact that he does, indeed, want you, and you crumble on the spot. You feel your back hitting the door as Eddie pushes his body into yours, nearly grinding into you.

And you don’t hold back your desire either. You moan in his mouth, and it drives him insane with lust. It’s maddening, really, and, just like that, he’s hard as fuck.

He did dream about this moment for far too long. It’s well-earned and well-deserved. It’s more than he could’ve thought of, making him drunk on your presence alone.

His hands roam on your waist, accidentally pulling up your shirt, but when your hand pulls his over your now bare back, Eddie groans. He groans relentlessly, almost unable to stop. You’re both like randy teenagers, but neither of you cares.

“We should—go back—at some point,” you struggle to get out as Eddie’s lips are nibbling on your neck.

“Agreed.”

You feel him smile against your pulse and, oh God, you feel your heart race in between your legs. It’s downright debilitating, and yet you cannot stop for the life of you.

“Hey guys, is everything alright in there?”

Robin’s concerned voice from outside the door catches you both off guard, and Eddie barely manages to lift his head from the crook of your neck.

“All good, just talking!” he shouts. “Be right outside!”

You back away, straightening your shirt. “Bit too loud, Munson.”

“What was I supposed to do, whisper?”

You throw him an unimpressed gaze, and Eddie quickly pecks your lips, taking your hands into his.

“I guess we should go back out there, huh?” he checks.

“Yeah. Probably not the best idea to take things further in Steve’s house.”

“Probably not. Also because I’m pretty sure this is his parents’ bedroom.”

You look around, slightly disturbed.

“Let’s get out of here,” you say.

But Eddie doesn’t follow you yet.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he seemingly excuses himself.

You frown. “What’s wrong?”

Eddie clears his throat, a suggestive look being thrown at you. Then you get it.

“Oh! Right. Sorry.”

It’s not really an apology when you think about the fact that you managed to get him so worked up in such a short amount of time. If anything, it feels flattering.

“Hey, what was that thing you said before, confessing stuff without consequences? Since we’re… waiting.”

You stifle a chuckle, unwilling to make him feel any more uncomfortable.

“I thought it was pretty obvious by now,” you smile shyly.

“Well, yeah, but I think I’d like to hear it.”

Your nerves are becoming tougher to handle, especially when you lock eyes and see that devilish sparkle in Eddie’s that gets you going in a second.

“Okay, here it is. I really like you a lot, Eddie Munson. I think you’re amazing.”

He smiles wickedly, reaching for your wrist as he pulls you closer to him. You can’t help but fall into his lap. You cup his cheeks, kissing him selfishly, thus earning a loud groan from his side, right into your cavities.

His hands travel up your back, eager to feel and knead and mold in between his fingers, but he pulls away.

“You can’t do this to me, sweetheart,” he fake-complains.

“I mean… I can, but we should go back out there.”

“If you keep doing this, I might reconsider and ask you to lock that door cause I won’t give a crap anymore about what those guys think.”

You bite on your lower lip, awfully tempted by the visual. He’s so goddamn adorable and lustful at the same time, you could eat him up.

Maybe some other time.

“I wanna do things the right way, you know?” he says. “This, you and me. So if you’d want to go out for a bite or something…”

“I’d really like that.”

Eddie smiles so wide, it could light up the whole room.

“But no making out like this,” he protests. “It’s too much to handle.”

“Yeah, I can see it has quite the effect on you.”

He chuckles, unable to take his eyes away from you. You really are the most attractive person he’d ever seen. Warm and loving and funny… all good reasons why he’s been in love with you for years.

But that’s something to share with you another time.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fic

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quizzicalwriter · 6 months

Note

i literally understand if u don’t do this request but dally coming home in a rly bad mood to femreader n being rough like spanking choking 🤧

Mercy

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Believe it or not Dallas had his fair share of patience, but you’d managed to wear it thin - imagine that.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Choking, hair-pulling, fingering, blowjobs, overall rough sexual themes.

A/N: Thank you for the request and the kind words! And I absolutely write things like this, so don’t worry!

Word Count: 3.4k

You weren’t normally possessive over Dallas. Alright, that was a lie. Usually, you weren’t overly possessive, but some women made it difficult. You could be at a house party, out with the guys, it wouldn’t matter if his arm was around your waist - some woman would inevitably ogle at him and you’d have to drape yourself over him like some makeshift blanket to get them to look away.

Dallas always shot them down, something that made you feel secure whenever you saw it. Most of the time he was too busy with whatever had caught his attention to give anyone the time of day, unless it happened to be you or the guys. He never faulted you for your possessive nature, he was the same damn way - only the last time a guy had flirted with you in front of him it’d nearly resulted in a fistfight.

You’d been hoping that tonight would be normal, a fun night with the guys in Buck’s shooting the shit and getting tipsy on whatever was available. For the most part, it was, you’d had enough to drink to feel slightly tipsy, and you’d somehow beaten Two-Bit in a round of pool. But as always, people flooded through the front door. With the crowd came a few women, most of whom had come with a man and stuck clear to their side throughout the night.

One, however, did not. She was pretty, pretty enough for two of the guys to notice her and give her a cunning smile, whistling obscenities that would’ve made anyone unused to their behavior blanch in embarrassment. She simply waved them off, eyes flickering over to Dallas for a moment as she bit at her bottom lip. In his defense, Dallas had been completely focused on keeping score for the current game, seeing as how he had nearly twenty dollars bet on Johnny to win.

You’d seen it, and that was enough in your mind. As soon as her eyes flitted over to you, you gave her a feigned smile, hand immediately moving over the front of Dallas’s jeans where you grabbed him through the denim. His legs jerked closed, eyebrows furrowing in both frustration and irritation as he looked over to you for having scared the shit out of him. The woman looked away, a faint blush painting itself over her features, so you considered yourself victorious.

“The hell you grabbin’ my dick for?” He asked, tone full of disbelief, but soon slipping into soft laughter as he followed your gaze to the woman who now faced the bar. “Jealous? Really?”

You had no defense of your actions, but seeing as how you hadn’t pissed him off you gave him a shrug in response. Your nonchalance on the subject made him roll his eyes, soon returning his attention to the game, although he kept his hand fixed on your upper thigh as he kept score. You’d scooted closer to him on the couch, draping one of your legs over his as you switched your attention between the crowd and the game, soon forgetting all about the woman as the rambunctious nature of the guys picked up once more.

Somehow Dallas’d won nearly thirty bucks off of Johnny, finding himself seriously proud of the kid as he continuously beat everyone around him at pool - even you found yourself amazed, although you found yourself more preoccupied with your current sitting position on Dallas's lap and how his hands held you steady.

After Dallas had collected his winnings he returned his attention to you, circling his arm around your middle as the guys dispersed into the crowd or over to the bar. During the games Dallas’d jerked on the couch, or slipped his hand higher along your thigh whenever it grew tense - so it was safe to say you were painfully horny.

“Can’t believe he won so many times.” He laughed out, snapping you out of your daze. You huffed out a laugh, nodding at his words even though you hadn’t a clue what the man was on about, something he caught onto quickly. “Tunin’ me out?”

“No.” You responded, tone a bit more snippy than you’d meant for. He furrowed his brow, leaning back against the couch with a cocky grin as he patted at your thigh, pulling your attention back to him with a hushed, “You have an attitude.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have an attitude if you’d do something about it.” You’d huffed out, eyes rolling with your words as you shifted on his lap. Not the smartest thing you’d ever said, but you blamed it on the two drinks you’d had earlier in the night even though they no longer had any bearing on your judgment, but you had to have an excuse, right?

“Excuse me?” Dallas asked through a laugh, hand moving up to cup your chin as he tilted your head back to meet his gaze. “Want to say that again?”

You shook your head, swallowing thickly as your thighs clenched together, all too aroused at the sudden rough nature of Dallas’s actions. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, eyes flitting to where the guys stood against the bar. Within a second he had you up on your feet, hand grasping your waist tightly as he led you to the stairs.

You’d opened your mouth to defend your actions, worried you’d pissed him off, but before you could utter a single word Dallas’d pulled you into his bedroom.

“No.” He grumbled, narrowing his eyes in frustration as he motioned to the floor. “Get on your knees, doll.”

The cold wooden boards bit at your knees through the frayed denim, making you wince inwardly as you settled yourself onto your knees. Despite the pain, you couldn’t help the sheer arousal coursing through your body at the way Dallas was treating you, causing your thighs to clench together as you fumbled with your hands in your lap.

“Expect me to do all the work?” He laughed out, shaking his head as he began unfastening his belt. You quickly moved, pushing his hands away as you undid his belt, tossing the leather to the floor before unbuttoning his jeans. You could feel him straining against the denim, cock twitching with each brush of your hand against the front of his pants.

As you freed his cock from the confines of his boxers he cupped your jaw, eyes softer than they had been previously as his thumb brushed against your lower lip with a whispered, “You want this?”

You nodded, a soft smile upon your lips as you rested your cheek against his touch. He returned your smile, giving your cheek a quick pat before threading his fingers through your hair, giving the strands a gentle tug as his other hand grasped his cock, pressing the tip to your lips. Your eyes fixed on his as you pressed a kiss to his tip, shifting your legs ever so slightly as you took him into your mouth.

The taste of his pre-cum coated your tongue, causing your cunt to ache as you leaned forward on your knees, taking him farther into your mouth as your eyes stayed trained on him. His grip on your hair never faltered, even as his eyelids fluttered at the feeling of your tongue circling his tip. He wanted to see his cock buried in your throat, to see you choke on him.

“Crazy how all that attitude goes away when you’ve got my cock down your throat.” He remarked, tutting afterward as he slowly inched his hips forward, a soft groan emanating from his chest as you struggled to take him deeper. “This what you needed, doll?”

All you could do was blink, eyes watering as your gag reflex instinctively kicked in. He didn’t waver, instead tightening his hold on your hair until your hand tapped against his thigh. As soon as he felt your tap against his thigh he pulled away, a string of your saliva connecting you to his cock as you caught your breath. Ragged breaths filled your lungs as you nodded, letting out a quiet, “Yes.”

He smiled down at you, a proud look on his face as you opened your mouth. He guided himself back to your mouth, slapping his tip against your tongue before pushing forward. You hummed around him, hands held behind yourself as spit dribbled onto your chest. He gave you time to adjust, free hand raising to cup your jaw as he pushed his hips forward.

You choked back your cough as you took him down your throat, tongue laving the underside of his cock before moving to bob your head. He met your movements with eager thrusts of his hips, groans falling past his lips as his pace picked up, all sense of kindness falling away at the feeling of you choking around his cock.

His hold on your hair tightened, using it to control your movements as he continued fucking your mouth, watching in lust-stricken awe as your eyes watered, yet remained focused on him. He could feel his orgasm building, cock twitching against the soft warmth of your tongue as you hollowed your cheeks around him.

“Fuck, fuck-“ He hissed, abruptly pulling out as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to cum as he listened to the sounds of you desperately catching your breath. With a deep intake of air, he nodded toward the bed, voice rough as he spoke. “C’mon, get on the bed.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, scurrying to your feet as your hand absentmindedly wiped at your mouth and chest. As you moved onto the bed you stripped yourself of your shirt, wiping your throat free of spit and pre-cum before tossing it to the floor. You watched with bated breath as Dallas approached you, cock twitching against his stomach as he turned you over onto your stomach, a groan sounding from within his chest as you immediately arched your back.

He grabbed a pillow from behind you, placing it underneath your hips before moving to remove your jeans and underwear, trailing his fingers along the folds of your cunt once he’d removed both articles of clothing. You pushed back into his touch, cheek pressed to the chilled mattress, craving his warmth. He pushed two of his fingers into you, watching with a smile as you rocked back on his fingers, whining his name into the duvet.

“Look so pretty taking my fingers.” He murmured, tone akin to a condescending coo as he pulled his fingers free, leaving you clenching around nothing. You felt his hands against your hips, pulling you back against him. He swiped his tip along your folds, warm laughter resonating from within his chest at the sheer amount of wetness that covered your cunt, giving you no less than a second to prepare yourself before he bottomed out within you.

The pace was brutal from the start, each thrust pulling a desperate moan from your lungs as you felt your cunt desperately trying to accommodate his size. His hands smoothed up to your waist, fingers still wet with your cum as he pulled you back to meet his thrusts. He was big, big enough that you were sure you could feel him in your stomach. With a whimper you reached underneath yourself, pressing your hand against your lower stomach, where sure enough you felt him - each roll of his hips pushing his cock deeper into your waiting cunt.

The added pressure pulled a grunt from him, his head falling back as he took in a shaken breath. He’d thought you were touching yourself for a moment until he noticed how still your hand was. Curiosity got the better of him, causing him to place his hand over yours, feeling himself against his fingers. The feeling almost made him cum right then and there, making him still his hips as he took in another ragged breath.

“You like feeling my cock buried inside of you?” He asked, tone taunting as he jerked his hips forward again, the movement pulling a whimper from you as you nodded. “Made for it, huh? Made to take my cock.”

You could only whine as you nodded, eyes filling with tears at the feeling of his cock brushing against that spot within you that made your thighs shake beneath you. You were utterly fucked out, something that Dallas found hotter than he ever thought possible. As if sensing how mindless you’d become from the feeling of him fucking you, he grabbed at your hips, picking up his pace in a manner that left you breathless.

You were left sobbing into the bedsheets, hands clutching for some reprieve you’d never find as he bullied his cock into you from behind. The pace was brutal, the feeling of his hands on your hips even more so, and yet you could feel your cunt squeezing around him, pulling him deeper within you with each thrust of his hips.

“Cryin’?” He asked, already having known the answer from your sniffled back whines and the way you wiped at your face with the motor skills of an inebriated person. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, bringing his hand down in a harsh slap against the plush skin of your ass as he continued. “Yet you’re squeezin’ me like you’d die without my cock in you.”

The degradation only made you whine more, eyebrows furrowing together as you pushed your hips back against him, meeting his harsh thrusts with sheer desperation you hadn’t known existed until then. He laughed in response, a deep and toying laugh you’d only heard him make a few times throughout your relationship. His hand smoothed up your back, abruptly pushing down against the middle, forcing your chest to be level with the mattress as he kept your hips up to meet his thrusts.

The angle forced the air from your lungs, tightening your cunt around his cock. You could hear him biting back groans, his hands grasping at the soft skin of your hips as he pulled you back to meet his thrusts. You could feel your cum dripping down your inner thighs, each push inward of his cock only forcing more out. All you needed was a bit of friction against your clit and you’d cum, so you snuck your hand between your thighs.

Dallas had picked up on the subtle movement, hand immediately snatching yours by the wrist to pin it against your lower back. You cried out in frustration, but you weren’t frustrated enough to move away from his cock. He let out a condescending “awe,” jerking his hips forward in a manner that all but bruised your cervix.

“Think you can cum after bein’ a brat?” He grunted out, laughter fueled by disbelief falling from his lips as he continued fucking you. You nodded, pleasure-fueled tears falling past your eyes as you struggled against his hold, needing to touch yourself so badly that it hurt. “Gotta earn it, doll.”

You didn’t argue, knowing any form of rebuttal would only garner further frustration on your part. You pushed your hips back, pressing your face against your forearm as you whined against your damp flesh, the slick sound of you fucking yourself back into his cock echoing throughout the room, paired with his self-satisfied laughter as he grabbed onto your hip with his free hand.

The pleasure was nearly blinding, just enough to have you careening on the edge as his tip brushed against your g-spot with each perfect roll of his hips. He wasn’t mean enough to make you do all of the work, but he was mean enough to watch you whimper into your arm with a smile on his face as you struggled to keep up with his pace.

You reached down between your legs, fingers splaying against the underside of his cock each time he’d pull out, earning you a cut-off groan as his hand released your wrist in favor of holding onto the curvature of your waist. You could feel each vein beneath the pads of your fingers, slick with your fluids.

“C’mon, doll.” He grunted out, voice hoarse from self-restraint. “Touch yourself, cum with me.”

You nodded against the bedspread, tears partially blinding you as you moved your hand to your clit, swirling your fingers around the slick and hardened bud as he fucked himself into you. You didn’t need much friction to build your orgasm, having already teetered on the edge for the better part of twenty minutes. As soon as your fingers circled your clit you were left sobbing into the mattress, cunt spasming around his length as he thrusted into you, his hands tightened their hold as he grunted out words of praise that were lost on your pleasure-ridden mind.

You’d hardly had a moment to catch your breath before he bent over your slumped form, looping his forearm around your neck before leaning back up, all but impaling you on his cock as he resumed his brutal pace. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, babbled out whines falling from your lips as you held onto his forearm, letting him use you.

The closer he got to his orgasm the tighter his hold got, his lips pressed against your temple as he grunted out words, each praise and degradation going straight to your still oversensitive cunt. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, air becoming harder to take in as his hold around your throat tightened.

“So fucking tight, doll.” He grunted, a low groan of your name following as his hips jerked forward, warmth following the thrust as he painted your cunt white with his cum. You whimpered at the feeling, noise in tandem with another moan on his part as he wrapped an arm around your middle, letting the one around your throat fall to his side. You sagged against him, taking in a ragged breath as his cock twitched within you.

“Hey-“ He started, lifting his hand to tilt your jaw back, meeting your bleary gaze with nothing but care in his. “You alright?”

You nodded, wetting your lips as you continued to slow your breathing, heart still pumping wildly within your chest. He gave you a short nod, pressing a kiss to your temple as his hand smoothed over your stomach, still buried to the hilt inside of your cunt.

He shifted behind you then, a quiet curse falling from his lips as he pulled out of you. You let yourself slump forward against the mattress, bottom half a complete mess of cum and sweat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care with the sheer amount of post-coital ecstasy flowing through your veins. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d gotten off his bed until he returned with a towel, delicately wiping between your thighs before wiping himself off, tossing the dirtied fabric to a far corner of the room before moving back onto the bed beside you.

“C’mon, doll.” He whispered, the tone so gentle your muddled mind could hardly perceive it until his arms wrapped around your middle, pulling your back flush to his chest as he helped you to get comfortable. “Did so good, real proud of you.”

You could only hum in response, shifting your hips as he pulled the covers over the both of you. Thankfully you’d somehow pushed the plush duvet off the mattress during the whole ordeal, leaving you both with a thin white sheet that felt more cool than anything, a genuine blessing against your still-hot skin.

“Did I fuck you quiet?” Dallas asked through a laugh, words immediately snapping you awake as you turned halfway to give him a half-hearted frown. He returned the look, clearly mocking you before leaning up to press a kiss to your forehead. “Messin’ with you, doll. I don’t think anything could make you shut up.”

“Dallas!” You laughed out in disbelief, swatting at his forearm as he chuckled behind you, absolutely pleased with himself for his joke. “Not funny!”

He relented, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck as you settled back down in his arms. You’d let your eyes flutter shut, content with the feeling of him holding you so securely to his chest, his soft breaths lulling you to sleep, only to feel him stifle a laugh.

“It is funny.”

A/N: This one is LONG. But I hope you guys like it! I honestly don’t mind writing rough stuff, I’ve read and written enough of it in the past that I might as well write it for Dallas hehehe. As always, thank you for the love you guys have shown my work! Any requests feel free to ask them and I promise I will get to them! You can find all my works over on my AO3 account, “Unscriptural.”

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imagines--galore · 3 months

Text

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Nine

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight,

A/N: So I didn't mean to stay away for so long but then life happened :/ Anyway! Hope you guys enjoy this REALLY long chapter!

To say it had been a close call would be an understatement. Not only had they escaped the Fire Nation Princess as well as the Fire Nation in the past few weeks, but somehow had managed to evade capture once more by two unknown assailants from the Earth Kingdom.

Hiding away in flower pots had certainly not been a comfortable idea, but it proved effective.

While the shopkeeper's son wheeled them away from the small village that had offered them refuge, Orora's mind caught up with all that had happened since yesterday.

Finding someone to help them.

The strange Pai Sho game.

The White Lotus Tile.

Escaping the Oasis.

Iroh's strange meeting.

Falling asleep on Zuko's shoulder.

The last one had a blush stealing across her cheeks, and the memory of it had her stomach flipping in on itself.

It was ridiculous just how strangely her body was reacting to what had happened. Especially when the waking up part had involved Zuko suddenly jumping to his feet and her body flopping to the side on the dirt floor.

He didn't even apologize for it, which only added to her annoyance of having been so rudely awakened.

As her annoyance faded to mild irritation, her mind began to wander had just how much her life had changed within the past few months.

Not only had she left home and her family, but she had also found herself a Master who could teach her. Her healing abilities had increased exponentially given the severity of the patients she had taken care of, not to mention how many she had treated. She had learned how to fight, a feat she was most proud of considering she barely had any training. The Moon Spirit herself had visited her and offered her advice. Her fingers unconsciously brushed against the white patch in her hair.

And then there was the fact that she had also found her soulmate.

Albeit one she could never accept but still. Not a lot of girls from the Northern Water Tribe claimed to have found their soulmates. Most of them had their marriages arranged to someone of their father's choosing before they could do so.

So perhaps she was fortunate enough to know who he was.

Just too bad he was the Fire Nation Prince.

Running a hand down her face the water bender sighed. "I need to stop fixating on him so much." She muttered to herself.

————————–

Boarding the boat that would carry them closer to their destination went about with no obstacles. Which was strange considering up till now whatever plan that was made hit a snag or two along the way. Still, she wasn't about to question fate and did remain on guard should anything go awry.

Her blue eyes were focused on the dock as it slowly grew smaller as the boat sailed away. Her Master had expressed his excitement by proclaiming himself a tourist, while Zuko remained as he preferred.

Pouting and brooding in a corner.

She barely overheard what they were speaking of, content on simply gazing at the clear water. She could see her reflection in it, could see the white patch of hair she had been blessed with.

Was that what it was then? A blessing by the Moon Spirit. Lifting her hand she brushed the tips of her fingers against the strands, tilting her head as she continued to observe her reflection. She wasn't someone who cared too much about her looks, but she didn't think she was unpleasant to look at. Cutting off her hair had been humbling in her opinion, and necessary. And the short hair did suit her, the strands now coming to just curl under her chin, the tips barely touching her collarbone. Still was she someone who could be described as being pretty? She pursed her lips, dropping her hand and shaking her head. Honestly, what was wrong with her? There were other more pressing things to worry about then her appearance.

"Orora, my dear." Iroh's voice barely registered in her mind, so lost she was as she gazed at the water, though she did make a small humming sound, to show she had heard him.

"It would seem there are a few passengers in need of your abilities."

That got her attention. Standing straight, the young girl followed his line of sight to see a young mother trying to console her small child. The little boy's arm was in makeshift sling, and even from here Orora could see how awkwardly the boy was holding his arm.

With an encouraging nod from her Master, the young waterbender slowly approached the duo. The mother looked up as she came closer.

"I'm sorry if his crying is disturbing you. It's just he's hurt an-" Orora shook her head, letting her lips curve into what she hoped was a friendly smile. "That is not the reason why I came. I'm a Healer, and I wanted to see if I could do something to help him."

So saying she bent down on her knees and reached out a hand towards the boy. "May I?" The mother looked a little unsure, but the child let out a loud whimper and she relented. Removing the sling, Orora uncorked her water pouch and coated her hands with the liquid. It glowed under her touch, mesmerizing the boy and distracting him from the pain as well as the fever that raged through his tiny body.

"It is a small break, but one I will be able to fix." Orora observed. She pressed her hands atop the boy's arm and took a deep breath. The blue glow around her hands intensified briefly before dying down. "Now try to move your arm." She encouraged with a smile, once she had removed her hands.

The boy was hesitant at first, but when no pain radiated from his injury, he let out a bright, happy laugh before swinging his arm around. Orora couldn't help but laugh lightly at his enthusiasm. "Well, it looks like you're all better now." She turned her attention to the mother who was looking at her in utter disbelief.

"He'll need something to make sure his fever goes away." Reaching into her bag she pulled out a small pack of leaves. "So just add this in his water and he should b-" The next moment all the breath was knocked right out of her as the mother all but threw herself forward and wrapped her arms around Orora in a tight embrace. "Thank you. Thank you so much." She all but sobbed. For her part, Orora patted the woman awkwardly on the back a few times.

When it came to physical displays of affection, her life had been quite lacking. Her father had never hugged her, her mother would only brush her hair in affection. The only embrace Orora could recall was one she had received from her grandmother. And that was so long ago.

She barely remembered it.

Once she was free of the embrace, the young girl quickly stood up and nodded at the small family before quickly retreating to where her two travel companions were. She moved to resume her previous stance when a voice stopped her.

"Why did you help them?"

Her head turned sharply in Zuko's direction. He was standing up against the support beam she had just passed, arms folded and a rather irritated look on his face. Which was the norm really.

"We're supposed to be keeping a low profile. You can't just go around and heal people." His words had her sighing in an almost exasperated manner. "Tell me Lee." The use of his other name sounded strange upon her tongue, and if Zuko were honest a tiny part of him didn't like hearing that name coming from her lips.

He much preferred Zuko.

Without so much as a hint of emotion in her features she continued. "If you came across a person, begging for water, and what you had was the last of your reserve would you give it to them?"

————————–

The silence that followed her words stretched on. Both teenagers refused to look away from the other, having started some sort of staring contest where neither wished to admit defeat. However there were subtle differences between their expressions.

Orora's face was tilted upwards slightly, silently challenging Zuko to answer and nearly taunting him with her eyes as she did. Zuko, on his part, had his lips pursed, and while Orora's stance was more relaxed and at ease, it was clear there was an inner battle that raged within the banished prince.

Then again, there was always a battle raging within him every waking hour.

Unable to bear the intensity of Orora's gaze, he was the first one to look away. The girl let out a small sound that was a mix between disappointment and annoyance. "When you're ready to give an answer to my question, I'll answer yours." She said referring to what he had asked earlier. With that she walked past him towards Iroh who stood nearby trying to act as if he wasn't paying attention to them. And failing at it.

"I'm going to take a walk around the deck. See if anyone else needs my help." With a nod of confirmation from her teacher, Orora gripped the shoulder of her water satchel and with one backward glace in Zuko's direction, walked off.

The young prince watched her as she left. He couldn't understand why she went about helping people like she did. Sure she had done it in the past, but that was mostly to get some money for provisions. These people couldn't give her any money.

Was she simply doing it out of kindness?! Was that even possible for a person to do given how dangerous things could get for her. She was a girl after all. Not defenseless, but still an easy target.

The thought of Orora being an easy target for anyone looking to take advantage of her had a sickening feeling settle in the pit of his stomach.

And it had nothing to do with the smell of the food he had received while he had been lost in contemplation. Pushing away the unpleasant thought, he turned his attention to the broth in his bowl and made a face. It looked like dirt, and he was sure it tasted like that too. He raised the bowl to his lips and no sooner had the broth touched his lips when he spat it right out.

"Ugh! I'm sick of eating rotten food." He growled, looking like he wanted to throw the bowl into the water. "Sleeping in the dirt. I'm tired of living like this!" Maybe it was the hunger gnawing at his stomach that had his previous emotions rising to the surface. Or maybe it was the thought of a certain waterbender getting hurt somehow.

"Aren't we all?" The voice came as a sudden distraction, prompting Zuko and his Uncle to look in the direction of the speaker. A teenage boy with a stalk of wheat in his mouth stepped into their line of sight. He was flanked by two younger teenagers. "My name's Jet and these are my Freedom Fighters, Smellerbee and Longshot." He introduced himself and his companions. The girl, Smellerbee, greeted back, Longshot simply gave a small nod of acknowledgment.

"Hello." Zuko spoke in a slightly dismissive tone, hoping they would go away. However, what Jet said next caught his undivided attention.

"Here's the deal. I hear the captain's eating like a king while the refugees have to feed off his scraps. Doesn't seem fair, does it?" Iroh, who was normally against stealing but couldn't deny his hunger spoke up. "What sort of king is he eating like?"

"The fat, happy kind." Jet stated in a slightly sarcastic tone. Hearing this Iroh's mouth hung open, as his mind began to concoct all sorts of delicious meals the captain might be eating at that moment. Jet turned his attention back to Zuko. "You want to help us "liberate" some food?" He asked with a smirk. Glancing down at the disgusting slop Zuko gripped it tighter in his hand before tossing it into the water. "I'm in."

————————–

With one final deep breath, Orora lifted her hands from the leg she had finished healing. "There. That should heal it." She informed the previously ailing old man who gave her a smile of disbelief and gratitude. His old wife reached out to clasp her hand in a motherly way. "Thank you so much my dear. We were afraid he wouldn't be able to find work with his injured foot when we got into Ba Sing Se." Orora smiled. "Well no need to worry about that now."

As she watched the old couple walk away, the man with an obvious spring in his step, her smile disappeared and she fell to the side, catching herself on the wooden railing. Raising a hand to her head, the young girl pressed her fingers against her temple to try and alleviate the pain that radiated from there. She had been healing for a good few hours now. And though she had had breaks inbetween where she would give out medicinal herbs to those who were sick, she had barely found time to stop and just rest. Let alone eat.

The sun had set a good hour or so ago. Maybe that was enough healing for the day. Her arms were aching from the multiple healing sessions, and her body felt heavy with tiredness. Was this what it felt like to heal people for such a long time? Your entire body felt like it was half-dead? Maybe she had overdone it.

But those people had needed her help, she told herself as she walked back to her travel companions, bending fresh water from the lake and into her water satchel. "Good evening, Orora." Iroh greeted as she sat down next to him. Giving a small nod, the girl stifled a yawn. "And to you Master." She glanced around, frowning slightly when she didn't see any sign of Zuko. "He has made some new friends." Iroh answered her unspoken question, prompting her to look at him in surprise. He simply smiled at her. She blushed at having been caught, but her embarrassment was forgotten when Zuko appeared with three other teenagers, bags over their shoulders.

Bags that was filled with food.

While Jet, as Iroh quickly informed her, distributed the food to the rest of the refugees, Zuko brought over several bowls of what looked like fresh food towards them. Iroh quickly accepted a bowl of noodles and began to slurp them down happily. Orora stared at the bowl Zuko held out towards her.

Their eyes locked, gold on blue, their string shorter when they were close. Slowly she reached out to take the bowl, their fingers brushing as she did. "Thank you."

It wasn't long before she had eaten her fill and was beginning to feel even more sleepier then before. Zuko had settled down beside her eating his own food.

Having distributed all the food, Jet came to sit down with them. She was only able to give him a nod of acknowledgement before resuming her semi-dozing state, trying hard not to fall asleep completely.

"From what I heard, people eat like this every night in Ba Sing Se." Said Jet. "I can't wait to set my eyes on that giant wall." He continued sounding almost wistful as he did. Iroh nodded. "It is a magnificent sight." Jet leaned forward, eager to hear more. "So you've been there before?"

The shift in conversation had Orora momentarily forgetting about her lack of sleep as both she and Zuko turned their attention towards Iroh. "Once. When I was a different man." The sadness and despair in his usually twinkling eyes made Orora's heart ache and she reached out to rest a hand on top of his in comfort. Her Master patted her head, silently showing he appreciated her concern for him.

Jet pursed his lips before speaking. "I've done some things in my past that I'm not proud of, but that's why I'm going to Ba Sing Se: for a new beginning. A second chance." For someone talking about the future he didn't sound so hopeful about it, Orora mused to herself.

"That's very noble of you." Iroh spoke, nodding at the teenager. "I believe people can change their lives if they want to." He glanced at his nephew. "I believe in second chances." Zuko too glanced at his Uncle, though his amber eyes shifted to Orora who rubbed the heel of her palm against her eye, yawning as she did. Iroh noticed too, prompting him to reach out and pat her on the shoulder.

"Perhaps you should turn in, my dear. You've had a tiring day." Wordlessly the girl nodded, barely able to keep her eyes open. Slowly she rose to her feet, and had barely taken a step forward when a wave of dizziness overcame her, tilting her to the side and straight into Zuko. Luckily he was quick enough to catch her, though he almost fell back himself. "Orora?" The urgency in his voice was evident as he shook her shoulder. The girl mumbled something under her breath. His Uncle quickly looked the girl over and smiled in exasperation. "She has worked hard today and has passed out from being tired." He finally stated. Zuko scowled. "Well couldn't she have passed out on her bedroll?" Even with the words coming out of his mouth, his grip around her shoulder and waist did not let up.

If anything he seemed to hold her closer. Especially with Jet looking at her like he was. Zuko did not like it one bit.

"I will lay it out for her." Iroh quickly stood and went off to get a pillow and blanket from where they were stored on the ship for their use. Zuko gave a small nod of confirmation, stiffening when he felt Orora shifting a little in his arms before settling once more. Her head rested against his shoulder, and her lips were parted slightly as she breathed deeply. His features shifted to a look of concern as he quickly tried to figure out just how long she had been healing and helping people. And that too on an empty stomach. Of course, not that he could've done anything about it. She was much too stubborn to actually listen to him, but at least he would've had the chance to tell her off when she returned.

But then why should he care? A voice whispered in his head. A voice that sounded suspiciously like his sister's. Why should he care about a lowly waterbender? What was she to him?

"She your girlfriend?" Jet's question cut through his dangerous musings. Zuko leveled a particularly irritated glare in his direction. "No." He snapped, the very word laced with poison.

Just your soulmate, his brain supplied, as Jet raised his hands in a gesture that showed he meant no harm before getting up and going to look for his companions. Zuko stayed where he was, and this time he purposefully avoided looking at the girl passed out in his arms. As soon as his Uncle returned with the pillow and blanket, he laid her down on the hard floor and left her to sleep.

And if he was extra gentle with his movements as he laid her down, he did not think too much of it.

And if he lingered over her, watching her as she settled to make sure she was as comfortable as he could get, his Uncle did not mention it.

And if he leaned back down to pull the blanket over her shoulder properly so she would not be cold, Zuko pretended that he didn't, consciously, allow his fingers to brush against the soft skin of her cheek as he pulled back.

And if he happened to glance at the string around their fingers glimmer with color, he ignored it completely.

————————–

Being on your own isn't always the best path.

His own words resonated in his ears and his mind from his recent conversation with Jet. As he watched the docks grow in size as they neared their destination, Zuko couldn't help but think over what he had said. He had tried that. He had spent nearly a month on his own and it had gotten him nowhere.

If anything, things had gotten only worse for him. Maybe he had gotten used to having someone around him.

His Uncle had been by his side since his banishment. He had been the unbreakable support Zuko had needed in his times of despair. And truthfully, he was the reason he had made it this far alive. How many times had his Uncle helped him out of difficult situations? Though he would never tell him, Zuko's affections and gratitude for his Uncle ran deep. And sometimes, even though he knew it was wrong, he wished that Iroh was his real father and not Ozai.

And then there was Orora. Someone who had come into his life and made it all the more complicated. He lifted the hand where the string was tied to his finger, and followed it's path to the other end. His soulmate stood next to Iroh. Her back was towards him, allowing him to observe her without it becoming awkward for either of them. Despite the fact that nothing would come out of them being each other's soulmates, he couldn't help but wander if mayb-

The sound of the whistle blowing cut through his thoughts as their boat finally docked. The crowd began to chatter excitedly as they made their way towards the gangplanks. Sighing to himself, he walked towards Uncle and Orora.

"Well now, just one more stop and we shall begin a new life together." His Uncle stated jovially as he led the way towards the gathering crowd.

Together.

Such an insignificant word that carried so much weight.

Orora glanced in his direction as she fell into step beside him. He allowed his gaze to meet her own for a brief moment before they both looked away.

————————–

Orora was sure that the ticket woman who stood behind the booth had to be a distant relation to her old tutor, Ms. Chiyo. She had a certain look in her eye, one that Orora had dreaded as a child since those beady eyes would assess her every move looking for a slip up on her part.

The woman had been her manners and etiquette tutor for a good few years, and Orora had despised her. She had always been so harsh and could be downright cruel at times.

"So," The woman spoke, looking over their tickets and passports as the three of them stood in front of her. Mr. Lee, Ms. Orora and Mr. ummm ... Mushy, is it?

Iroh, ever the polite old man, corrected her. "It's pronounced Mushi." The already irritated woman's expression shifted to pure annoyance as she glared at Iroh. "You telling me how to do my job?" She demanded, her voice rising in pitch.

Sensing that perhaps he had done wrong, Iroh was quick to shake his head as he approached the ticket booth. "Uh, no, no." There was a brief pause on his part before he continued with a smile on his face that was, for lack of a better word, sickeningly sweet.

"But may I just say you're like a flower in bloom. Your beauty is intoxicating." Orora could feel her face morph in one of disbelief and slight disgust at the words coming out of her teacher's mouth. Beside her Zuko was no better, looking just as disgusted.

For a moment Orora was almost afraid the ticket woman would call the guards, but instead she smiled in what the young girl could only say was a flirtatious manner and return Iroh's smile.

"You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself, handsome. Roar!"

Oh that part nearly had her bursting out into laughter. She clapped a hand to her mouth, while Zuko did the same but to his eyes, as if he had no desire to even witness what was going on in front of him.

"Welcome to Ba Sing Se." Their tickets were stamped, and they were officially citizens of Ba Sing Se. Iroh grinned happily as he collected the tickets and held them out for the two teenagers to take.

"I'm going to forget I saw that." Zuko grumbled before snatching his ticket and walking away. Orora accepted her ticket as well and followed after the prince, though she allowed herself to be amused by what had happened and let out a few giggles as she did.

Iroh brought up the rear, looking rather pleased with himself.

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As they waited for their train to be called, Orora leaned back where she stood, watching as the refugees boarded the trains that would take them to their destination. It seemed strange to know that she would entering a city. She had only seen small towns and villages so far. But a city as big and grand as Ba Sing Se would surely be unmatched to what she had experienced so far. And that included the Northern Water Tribe.

A familiar voice broke her out of her thoughts. "So, you guys got plans once you're inside the city?"Jet asked as he sat down next to Zuko. Orora couldn't help but frown at the teenager's insistence to be around Zuko every chance he got. What was his problem anyway? She mused to herself, not even bothering to hide her scowl as she glared at the boy. Just then a Tea-seller walked by prompting Iroh to quickly get up and buy himself a cup of Jasmine. Though no sooner had he tasted the liquid when he began to lament his mistake. "Blaugh! Ugh, coldest tea in Ba Sing Se is more like it! What a disgrace!" Orora couldn't help but giggle, reaching out to pat her Master gently on the shoulder as consolation. "I'm sure we'll get you some nice warm tea when we get to the city, Master." He nodded in affirmation. "Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" Jet said motioning for Zuko to follow him. Zuko sighed and reluctantly rose, following after him.

Once more Orora found her eyes trained in the direction of the prince as he walked off. They stood a little ways away talking. But whatever the conversation was, it was over just as quickly as it began. She quickly looked away, not wanting to get caught and turned her attention to where Iroh was drinking his hot steaming tea happily.

Wait!

Hot?!

Steaming?!

A startled gasp fell from her lips, prompting Zuko to falter in his steps and follow her line of sight. His hand darted out to knock the cup of tea out of Iroh's hand. "Hey!" The old man protested even as his nephew leaned down to hiss at him through gritted teeth. "What're you doing firebending your tea?! For a wise old man, that was a pretty stupid move!"

"Honestly Master, that was reckless." Even Orora couldn't help but chime in. But Iroh wasn't listening to any of them, lamenting over his spilled tea. Orora glanced up toe Jet's retreating back. "He didn't see anything did he?" She spoke softly, dread filling her as she thought of what the boy might do should he discover that Zuko and Iroh were firebenders. "I don't think so. Besides, even if he did, he has no proof." Zuko stated firmly as a way of reassuring her as well as himself. The waterbender nodded, though there was a nervousness in her eyes that remained even as they boarded their train a few minutes later.

But then that all shifted to the very back of her mind as they exited the station and were greeted with their every first sight of Ba Sing Se. Eagerly looking out of the window, Orora couldn't help but stick her head out of the window and let out a little laugh of joy as the cool air brushed through her hair.

"I hope Ba Sing Se brings something new for us." She whispered to herself as she watched the scenic view pass by.

Beside her Zuko couldn't help but hope for the same.

————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos @violet-potter @rennysketch @emma-andrea1 @fuzzyfestcat

@msrawog

#zuko x y/n #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #zuko x oc #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #avatar #the thread of fate #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last Airbender

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silenttale22 · 8 months

Text

GUMUSSERVI |JJK|

BestFriend!Jungkook x Reader Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers Warning: Swearing, readers!insecurities of not being enough :( Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JEONGGUKIE - OUR PRETTY LITTLE(not so little - fine) BUN <3

(n)Gumusservi (Turkish) - moonlight shining on the water

The sound of the ocean and the sight of tiny waves crashing onto the shore transport you to a different world. Your mind drifted softly, giving itself a brief feeling of nirvana with the surrounding nature. The clear sky was even bluer than the other days, reminding you of the unforgettable summer skies. The burning feeling of the legs buried in the sand brings you the best mood and the sun-kissed arms, now a bit sunburned, must be hidden under the umbrella. People were laughing around you, and kids playing volleyball near the place where you were. Is this what they call heaven? The place where everyone is happy.

The rays of light reflected from the rippling water made the scenery even more beautiful. You were just happy, with pathetic hope that it would last forever. From under your dreamy eyes, you found yourself observing people having fun in the water, or sitting on the shore playing with the sand like children. And that worry-free childish feeling always clung to you when you somehow did get away at least for a moment to the sandy beaches. Your problems seemed to disappear with the echo of the waves hitting the shore. These sea waves are washing away all the bad memories that could somehow appear in your mind from time to time. The sound of the wind blowing away your hair and soothing your slightly sunburned skin was like heavenly relief on warmer days like today.

The quiet sounds of tropical melodies were playing from afar but you still could hear it despite the loud people around. But most of the time, these loud sounds make you pissed off immediately, here - when your palms gently brush the grains of sand under your fingers, nothing seems to ruin such a moment.

Your gaze fell on the group of kids and teenagers on a small court made of sand. They weakly ran around to bounce the ball that ended up falling on the ground and made them burst into laughter or maybe some of them were even redder with anger because of the lost point. It made you chuckle, mainly because your friends were there too and one of them especially didn’t like to lose in such games. He was always like that, some could call him self-absorbed but some others could call him simply ambitious. Even If he drives you mad sometimes, especially while whiny screaming to your ear when he loses, you cannot hate him. You simply cannot.

But now another yell was heard from the court and you were sure that the loud ass they were, the whole beach could hear far away from there. Especially shouts of the biggest nervous rabbit of all.

After some minutes of watching the kids playing around, you get back into your book. The couple was just about to kiss when the awful taste of sand reached your tongue and cold drops of water met your heated-up legs. You were ready to throw your hands and start to yell for stopping you in such a romantic moment till you actually met your gaze with a boy. His smiling face even if it didn't exactly ease your anger, as you send one of your looks that if it could kill he would be dead for sure, made you calmer a bit. You would regret all of it later when a giggle left his lips.

“Sorry, I wasn't meant to” he sent you another adorable smile and lay down next to you.

His wet, slightly cold skin met with yours and goosebumps covered your body. Yet you couldn’t even be upset at him for a minute more because of his persona. Always enchanting you with shiny eyes. But he looked down at your skin, fingers brushing the small bulges and his eyes changed into worried ones. But you nudged him gently and your gazes met so he could meet a reassuring smile. He knew it was okay. It's nothing bad. And he lay down gently, but with hand still, so close your body.

“Kids tire you out?” The question broke the silence, and a small chuckle made you look at his peaceful face, looking at you with adoration like he usually does. As one of your best friends.

“Nah, I just wanted to spend some time with you”

“How romantic” he snorted at your sarcasm and stuck his head under the cover of your book to be with his head and wet hair on your thighs. Jungkook's eyes were now closed, pretending to completely relax when you bumped him slightly with the hardcover of the book to meet his confused sight. “Are you joking right now?” you said, being almost sure that hell ignored you but to your surprise, words leaving his mouth

“Not even a bit, my dear” A big smile could be seen by everyone around which just makes your eyelids come closer together.

“Remind me to kill you another time” you huffed, getting back to the lecture.

“You couldn't, your love for me is too big”

And he was right but nobody knows about it. What were you supposed to do anyway? These feelings clung to you two years ago when you and boy just met. Back then you didn't know how close both of you would become. And how… enchantingly he will behave with you. Sometimes, it was too hard for you. Too hard not to wish for more.

He was just different, stunning from afar and close. His often loud personality and infectious laugh only added to it. But he could also stay quiet if it's needed and give you support along with the peace you truly need. He could make you feel better without even talking. His presence was enough. His aura was making you more than happy.

Recollections of the time you spent together with him popped up before your eyes, and the sound of his laughing echoed happily in your ears. Cute pouting when he loses in some stupid game or adorable nose scrunches he made while smiling charm you to this point that sometimes you couldn't bear. Even while eating, you could see by his face if it was good or not.

Face filled with confusion?

Damn, food is good.

And it was so adorable for you. He was so adorable to you. But also…he was just too beautiful for you. Inside and outside. But you were under his spell and there was no one to break the weird feeling that grew up inside your chest.

“Are you there, dear? I'm worried.” you glanced down, finding his nut-brown eyes peering into your face, making your face flush red, which fortunately could be explained by sunlight

“I am, Jungkook”

“Excuse me? Where is ‘Koo’ or ‘Googie’ or ‘Bun’, should I be mad?”

You did not answer, just brushed his hair gently with your fingers making him hum quietly, and shut up just for a second. And yeah, it was enough for you anyway. Anytime when you could only stare at him was enough…

But do you think he will just shut up? REALLY Did you think it was over? Don’t you know Jeon Jeongguk long enough?

“Did you know that sharks have their own underwater café?” you sighed, brushing his hair faster hoping it would do something - like stop him from talking - but nah, there is no way. He only begins again.

“Oh my God, not again your trivia about nothing and everything” you huffed already, couldn't focus on your book

“Yah! Don't be rude just one more time” He grunted, hitting your leg lightly.

“I didn't even try” you took hand from his hair to flip the page but he quickly took it back, making you give up on the lecture and pay attention to him. So with a hand buried in his hair, you have to quietly stare at him and listen.

“Then look and listen to me.”

Perfect.

Like that, you ended up hearing about the scientists who discovered an area in a remote part of the Pacific Ocean where typically coastal great white sharks will migrate to in the winter. And this place they call White Shark Café.

While he was talking with his eyes closed, you were just stunned by his flawless beauty. The light of the sun on his skin made you even more amazed. The euphoric feeling went down your spine every time the small grin showed on his face while talking about nothing. This makes you calm, he makes you calm, and lucky. You felt just lucky to have him by your side.

And sometimes, it is just comforting to see his face. You don't have to talk, you don't have to spend a lot of time together, you don't even need to be close. Just a small smile on his face. Little dimples showing on his cheeks. Even while he squints his eyes because he's concentrating on something or can't see something can make you chuckle. And you never do it because you're making fun of him. You just realize with each passing moment how a relaxed state comes over your tired shoulders just by seeing him. How you want to smile again, and how your breath can get deeper and not so shallow because of constant anxiety.

You ask yourself often, how just looking into someone's eyes can make you cry at the same time so burning happily inside your chest. How it is that you feel so safe only by looking. Moles here and there make you connect them with eyes, looking for constellations, and even if there aren't too many of them sometimes, the one becomes the only shining star you're longing to see every time.

Oh, how much you wanted to squish his cheeks. 'Cause every time he squishes them when lazily puts hands on just out of the tiredness, your heart pounds like crazy. When he pouts lips while thinking about something, and you sometimes find the courage to admire his facial expressions, he covers red ears with hands because he's embarrassed, making you adorably smile.

He just…makes you a different person. Sometimes you'd say a happy one, even if you don't really can stay in this state of mind for long. So when another smile, upper cheeks puffing cutely, and eyes dancing, lit up from time to time, your heart bursts with a warm feeling.

How much only one joyful grimace can bring you comfort and hope…hope that everything, in the end, will be fine and you will be loved.

He just brings out the best of you. No matter how much you’ll try to pretend that he annoys you like hell when sometimes the one and only thing you want is for him to disappear. He`ll stay, making you fall even more. And now you couldn't stop yourself, as hand brushes his cheek gently which made him open his eyes and again look into yours. They were shining just like the sun and the stars.

“Everything kay?” He asked, melting your heart even more but you just hummed and quickly looked away to avoid the embarrassing situation that you put yourself in.

And at first, you thought it worked but when he came up, you knew that you were in trouble because when Jeon Jeongguk is worried, you cannot stop him from trying to get to the real reason for your behavior. Firstly he scanned all your face, especially your eyes from which he could often tell what was really going on inside, that is why you were so afraid to look him in the eye for longer than some seconds. Secondly, when he found even a bit of worry in your eyes, his fingers gently grasped your hand and locked it in a tight embrace. That's how it's ending right now, makes you even more awkward but at the same time your heart happily singed ballads inside your chest.

“What's going on with you two today?” Jimin's voice startled you, forcing you to violently pull your hand away from Jungkook and pretend like nothing happened. And for a few seconds, you felt like you could not breathe.

As much as you wished for your feelings for Jeongguk to be mutual. At the same time, you didn't want anyone to realize any sooner than he did that your heart could beat so fast just for him. This time, the dark-haired man's hand still gently caressing your skin failed to bring peace to you. Still, a tightness of insecurity and a kind of sadness clung to you and you couldn't get rid of it.

You knew you had to escape.

So you picked yourself up from the sand, gave Seokjin- your closest friend right after Jungkook - a knowing look, and explained to everyone that you're going to take some more sun and check the water. So you walked down the beach, closer to the sea trying to calm your fast-beating heart. The sound of waves calmed you a bit but this strange feeling still clung to you.

And for a longer while you just stood there watching the horizon. Chilly water from time to time gets to your legs making you shiver slightly. Feet buried in the sand after a while, as the sea waves were soaking the ground under your weight. Crushed shell fragments that slightly irritate your toes, the sound of smashing waves somehow soothes you. You could see how the sea was kissing the shorelines, and your heart somehow stung painfully. Because when will be the right time for you? When you will be truly happy and honest with him. You will tell that his presence is picking up all the messed-up pieces.

“Okay, listen here girl,” a Sudden voice made your shoulders jump, and hands went to your chest as heart started pounding faster 'cause of fear “If you don't tell him today, I'll, and I don't give a shit about your no.”

Have I said nobody knows about your feelings? Well, there’s Jin. This type of best friend who took his nose everywhere he could and sometimes you really loved it about him. But it's only sometimes.

“That's not so easy Seokjin,” you mumbled, facing him with a hard expression painted on your face.

“Listen, I cannot stand your painful face anytime you fight with yourself being close to him. That hurt me as hell y/n. You're my best friend and I don't want to see you like this.” His hands landed on your shoulders to shake you stronger as if that would somehow change your thinking here and now ”Also believe me, I'd love to punch Jimin for today! How he could stop in such a moment! Girl, you know how JK looked at you! Why don't you see that he's into you too,” he huffed, splashing water on you with his leg but you groaned

“I'm not enough okay? That's it,” you murmured, dropping his hands to look at the horizon where small clouds floated slowly and carelessly across the blue sky.

“Yes, you are God damn! You're more than enough and you know it. C'mon, girl…” he punched your arm gently with a laugh but it wasn't funny for you. Not this time, when you don't know what to do anymore.

The silence fell between both of you with your eyes fixed on the swaying water and the rays reflecting within it. This sense of being pathetic and useless once again gripped your body. Is it going to be like that? The words will be never said and the emotions will hide inside until they tear you apart. You hated bottling feelings up, but what could you do? You didn't want to end this friendship. But how much you have to go through to be truly happy without a doubt.

“Sorry for the disturbance. We're going back to the hotel.” The different tones of Jungkook's voice made you confused as he came for a second to spit some words out of his mouth.

Is he really mad at you now?

Or just because you have to get back to our rooms?

Yet you didn't say anything, and as he disappeared you looked sadly at Jin with a sigh and quietly walked back to the hotel, wondering if you should end it all.

-*-

Your body slumped on the bed with your head poked under the pillow was supposed to bring some peace as one girl from the group of yours you shared a room with left, asking beforehand if you were also going. But you didn't even bother to ask where, you just threw a short negative burp so that she simply disappeared behind the door slamming it behind her. You were hoping for a moment, a longer moment of peace. Maybe hoping for your head to start working and helping you to start figuring out what to do about the whole Jungkook situation, which seemed to drag on endlessly

“Hey y/n, are you coming?” Jin's head peeked out of the door and greeted you with a gentle smile but you groaned, knowing that your peace was gone. But still, you ignored him at first, pressing the pillow against your head even harder

“Where and why?” you said as he started to poke you in the back, as your face was buried into the mattress. A muffled voice of yours could be barely heard by a boy. But he heard and poked your back stronger now, it was almost like irritating pinching.

“To see the sunset? C'mon, everyone is coming,” he said with a whiny voice, but you only groaned again, pressing your face deeper into the mattress.

“Have fun then” you mumbled and just for a second, you thought he was gone but the cold hands gripped onto your ankles and dragged you out of bed with a loud bang. “What the fuck Seokjin!”

You looked at him with a furious look as you lay on the ground and rubbed the sore spot from the falling down. After the situation on the beach, you in no way wanted to leave the room at least until the next day.

When you all returned to the hotel, after changing into fresh clothes and taking a moment to get wrapped up, most of the group decided that it would be an ideal idea to go out on the town. And yes, usually soaking up new cultures and exploring new places was one of your favorite activities on any tour, but this time Jungkook's heavy gaze on your back was…foreign, filling you with uncertainty.

And you really tried to speak up. But every attempt you made to start a conversation while walking next to him ended with him shrugging his shoulders or silently grunting. And you tried also to show him anything you found funny or interesting to be ignored again. As everyone laughed, trying on all sorts of ridiculous hats or headbands on their heads, or just in general - having fun - you stood at one side of the street booth with souvenirs and the boy at the other. Both with grave faces, as it was hard for you to smile when you knew Jeongguk was angry with you. You still didn't know why, but it brought such a heavy weight to your chest that it really felt like crying.

And when you finally returned to the room, single tears actually flew down your cheeks. Tears of anger mixed with confusion. Because, after all, you are both adults, so why can't you talk like ones?

“Jin, leave me alone. I don't want to,” you whined, wanting to get back on the mattress but his hands grabbed you right away as you stood up from the floor.

“And do you think I care? Nope! Get your ass up, we have a boyfriend to catch.”

“I hate you with my whole heart” you hissed and rubbed down the hurting leg.

“Mutually” he winked and pulled you out of the hotel room. This time, less aggressive.

The sky over the sea began to take on colors of pink and red. Small clouds floated, creating different shapes bewildering you every moment and making you realize how much you loved sunsets. Feeling a little squishy sand under your feet again could work a miracle for your running head. The smell was fresh, and even the fire smoke that was floating in the air couldn't change that. The salty fragrance still softly tickles your nostrils. It was almost like your dream heaven. Almost.

From a distance, you could see a bonfire burning on the beach, around which most of your friends were already sitting, but your gaze, as always, rested on only one of them. He seemed different, a bit dim, and his smile did not adorn his face as it usually did. This made you worry. But you could do nothing, even if you wanted to do something so much. Because inside you knew that it was all your fault.

When you came near the fireplace, Jin immediately pulled you hard and took you to sit next to Jungkook but it only made your stomach flip because of nervousness that he may simply leave. That he won't hold your hand anymore, and his warmth is not going to wrap you in comfort. But he didn't leave. His arm was touching yours, and his skin felt as warm as you imagined it to be. A faint scent of his cologne mixed with usual cotton soothed you a bit, but you still knew he was mad.

And you still wondered why.

Both of you barely spoke as the sun was still up. Other people were laughing, singing, and drinking. And maybe he was mad, and maybe he was mad at you…but he almost always knew when you were god damn anxious about something, and this time he also knew. As you were sitting down, observing, your leg was bouncing nervously for a while, and as your and the boy's leg was so close, he could feel even the slightest moves of it. His hand quickly found its way to your tight. And the gentle touches of Jungkook's fingers on your exposed leg, make pleasant goosebumps. How he almost unnoticeably traces lines on your skin. Cool down the nervousness, and tossing fires inside you. With one touch he says that he is right next to you. For you.

Oh, how you loved him.

And as the sun was gone, instead appeared his good friend - the moon, which was now reflected in the surface of the calm sea. Moonlight was amazing, always making you marvel at it while holding a breath. Shining on the water makes you plunge into melancholy. The view was breathtaking, forcing you to get up from the sand and come closer to the sea. Away from the lights, away from other people. Just you, and the moon reflecting in the sea. And you knew that Jungkook would follow you.

“In Turkey, they call it Gumusservi, and it has no translation in English. In English, it's just moonlight shining on the water…but Gumusservi hits differently, don't you think?” Bright light fell on Jungkook's face, highlighting all his details. You could admire it for a minute. His outlined jaw and perfectly shaped lips didn't allow you to take your eyes off him. The small tip of his nose, on which the bright light coming from the moon was reflected, looked like the perfect place where your lips would want to be now. So that you could see it wrinkle gently right away when he got shy.

But it didn't happen as his face turned in your direction as he felt your stare. Now the only thing you saw was his shimmering eyes. He was shining.

“It sounds beautiful. Magically.” you couldn't stop yourself this time from looking into his eyes as he sat down next to you on the sand. His hand again brushed your skin and a smile danced on your lips on its own “I'm sorry” you gasped out, taking your eyes from him.

“Huh? For what” he glanced with confusion so you left a deep sigh

“I actually don't know…I mean, you're mad and I don't…” confusion took over you as he held your hand to leave a small peck on it

“I'm not mad. I can't be mad at you, more like myself. I should be the one saying sorry, for ignoring you and being a dumb ass…” he laughed miserably and looked at the ocean.

“Koo I…shit, I need to tell you something.” you felt lost in words but you knew it was your moment. The moment when everything ends or begins. “So yeah, um��”

“Hey, calm down. Your breathing became swallowed” he was much closer than before as his arm gently wrapped around your waist and guided you to put your head on his shoulder as he brushed circles on your hip

“Let me tell you first, please” his arm was still on your waist but you looked him in the eye as he nodded for you to speak “I'm sorry anyway”

“Y/N…” “I'm sorry that I was unable to show what I really feel. Unable to express how, how much I care about you and not just as a friend. Little do you know how deeply I want to be enough for you.” you felt his fingers press harder on your skin.

“ Huh, enough for me?” Now you couldn't look at him, it was hard for you to breathe ”Look at me, dear. You’re more than I ever wanted in my life.” your eyes widened, as his fingers brushed your jaw to make you look at him.

“Koo…”

“Y/N, you're the only person who really accepts all sides of my personality, and with whom I feel safe and loved. Your presence always made my heart beat faster. And shit, I tried to ignore it. Because I thought it’s not what you want. That you prefer someone who's smarter, calmer, and more like you. I mean, we`re completely opposite but still, I fell.”

“I-I didn’t know you like me… I just thought you liked me as a friend. Nothing more. Just look at me, I'm no one besides you but still, I dreamed about us,” you laughed to yourself “Hoping that the connection between us will be even stronger than it is. And I'm sorry, I'm sorry if I made you feel somehow worse. I’ve never wanted to make the person I love hurt in any way. I’m in love with you so fucking deeply and I'm terrified of this. Because I don’t know…ugh, how…to express what It feels when you’re next to me. How warm it feels to hold your hand or just be near you.”

“I don’t want your apologies, the only thing I want right now is to hold you. Are you okay with that?”

“More than okay” he smiled, and his soft lips pecked your forehead making your heart dance happily inside

"Okay guys, what the fuck with you" your eyes widened hearing Jimin’s voice behind your back but it was a second as a rushing Jin raced towards the blond boy to knock him over onto the sand, roll him a bit, and rub his face trying to shut him up.

"I said I will beat your ass and I will," Jin said, tugging on the already slightly tipsy Jimin to lead him away from the two of you.

You and Jungkook exchanged surprised glances, only to burst out laughing in a moment while still staying in each other's embrace.

The next moment between the two of you was silent. But it was this silence you adored so much. When he was giving you small signs that he's right next to you and will follow as long as he can.

He was so whipped for you since day one, and he often got mad when you refused his affection right in front of friends. Because he wanted to show that he is yours and he wishes you to be his as well. But he understood you, knew that you're not so much of a touchy person…especially in front of people. But when both of you spend time alone you never push his hand, always brushing softly his fingers with yours…making him go crazy.

He was crazy over you.

"I can't believe it's happening" your head snapped at his sudden voice, so you could another time adore his face from so close.

"What you mean Koo?

"You, like damn…You’re perfect to me in any way and don’t you even dare think differently." you laughed as he whined trying to hide in the crook of your neck "You’re the love of my life y/n and nobody can change it" He added.

You sighed brushing hair falling on his face, same as him still couldn't believe it was really happening. That you really can hold him so close, that his hand embraces you so safely, and that he really loves you back.

"I'm so glad," you said, making him lift his chin with a hum and look at your face, brushing your jaw softly with his nose "That you chose me" he chuckled, as if he couldn't believe you just said that

"How could I not? We’ll walk this path together Y/n, learning how to love each other even more. Because you’re my light, without which I wouldn’t be able to see the right direction." You smiled, feeling how your heart filled with warmth another time. Like almost every time with him.

And when the moon was shining so bright, changing water into enchanting silver, your dreamy eyes were watching him. Your private source of light and happiness you have been longing for so long.

#bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts imagine #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine

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lrdvyke · 4 months

Text

so in the want to figure out a way of life for escaped vyke should the cure prove too impossible to get ( it is 😭 ), i started to look for ways to help deal with the madness build up. it's going to always be there, it doesn't just go away be it through plucking out the eyes or the three fingers dying. from the clues that the game gives, the madness itself seems more physical in the way of what one may call a disease of sort. sometimes even just due to the fact that one's mind is not capable enough to continue caring for the body, but i'm digressing a little.

so i looked at the clarifying boluses for the biggest tell, as they are meant to get rid of the buildup of madness before it gets too much in the person's body / system:

Madness accumulates slowly, inflicting heavy damage and reducing FP once the threshold is reached. Take one of these in timely fashion to avoid such events.

the ingredients to make these are as follows: eye of yelough, crystal cave moss, and dewkissed herba, but the main one i want to touch on first is the eye of yelough due to the fact that it says more as to what kind of help it provides aside from the typical "medicinal" just by the item description alone:

Grown in lands afflicted by frenzy, it's used for its pain-relieving properties… Though it's also known to be a dangerous intoxicant.

when i say madness is more physical, i mean it in the sense that the body is in constant pain at all times. with taking the name "frenzied flame", from the looks of the people affected by madness and how their eye sockets hold a little glowing flame within them, along with the fact that the burn wounds never heal on your tarnished, i have reason to believe that in gaining the madness, there is a small source of flame inside of you that is constantly in a steady burn that brings with it a continuous amount of pain within the afflicted. also hyetta's words to you: ( which granted, she says this because you have become the lord of chaos, but it also tells of the other afflicted. you just take in the main source, being the vessel of the outer god, while the others afflicted have only an offshoot, if that makes sense )

Ahhh, the flame of chaos has nestled within you.

with the crystal cave moss and dewkissed herba, my guess is that it's included because of possible infection as they are both ingredients for preserving ( scarlet rot ) and rejuvenating ( death blight ) boluses. but i think it does something extra for the clarifying boluses because once madness effects you, your focus is punished as well as your health. focus is necessary for spells, to which the crystal cave moss is within crystal caves that are being mined by the academy. dewkissed herba is noted as being "soaked in arcane dew" and in the ingredients list for glowstones; thus sources of magic that push for a larger focus and in doing so, clearing a mind beset by madness.

ok but besides pain and infection, there is another: not eating. or in hyetta's words:

They rest their trembling hands upon me. Howling wordlessly, they gently stroke my eyes. Their frail fingers, emaciated... Yet still, they give me the grapes. But you...seem somehow...firmer.

there is no ability to undertake that demand. they waste away from the pain, the sickness, the inability to speak without screaming, a mind that can no longer focus enough for the afflicted to take care of the body. but there is a promise that the lord of chaos would take it from them, so that they may live happily again.

tl;dr life for vyke could be possible under the right circumstances should no cure come to him. it would just be impossible to do it alone, as he would have no mind to do anything let alone making the boluses, eating, or even treating the burns upon his body. he would simply act like the frenzied flame villagers: immovable in their pain until forced into violence.

#— study.#god i hope this makes sense. i feel like i started rambling towards the end bc i have so many thoughts about thishgkjsg #death in general in this game i still do not understand nor do i think i will ever lol #but given how many bodies there are in the church!! and how they are... i go back and forth in the camp of are they actually dead #or are they alive just unable to move due to the pain and madness ? ???#they are all dried out eyeless husks. practically skeletons with skin #but there are some you can still target. some don't even attack unless you attack first too #anyway im going off on another tangent hjfksdhgkj #in er fashion realistically will vyke live at all? no #but in max fashion who likes to find other ways for a story can vyke live? yes. but it will be difficult and he is forever changed #which is the meat and potatoes of this-- ok i'll shut up nowhgkjshfgk #ok another thing: allegory for grief. just think biggest depression spell of your life #ok im done im prommy

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gaoau · 5 months

Text

Friendship Spell

Wicked Witch warnings — none. word count — 1.6k

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With the weekend giving him enough time to mentally prepare himself for whatever could go wrong on Monday when he knocked on the clubroom door, Osamu returned to his sacred shrine. Still, he was nowhere near slightly prepared as he climbed the stairs, making an impromptu stop at a vending machine to buy himself a drink—and well, while he was at it, it made sense to get something for [Surname] as well, considering he was going up to see her. His face scrunched up in contemplation, weighing out pros and cons of every drink to find the perfect one.

[Surname] was a musician, [Surname] was a singer, [Surname] would appreciate water… right? That wasn't cheap of him.

Osamu heard her sigh unnecessarily loud through the door, the piece she was playing on the flute halted immediately upon hearing his knock. She slid the door open and instantly locked gazes with him. Her eyes pierced into him, bored and maybe even just a tad bit annoyed—admittedly, he'd knocked a total of three different days and it must have been getting unbelievably tiring for her to keep interrupting her practice for this one random guy. He offered the water bottle, wearing the friendliest smile he could muster as if he were handling an animal that could maul him to death at the slightest indication of a threat.

[Surname] rose a skeptical brow at him with narrowed eyes. "Is this gonna become a thing now?" She glanced between the bottle in his hand and his smiling face. Osamu hummed in confusion. "You coming here, bringing food and water, smiling like I'm an abandoned dog." Was it wrong of him to smile? "I never saw ya smile once during your game." Could she somehow read minds? "It's written on yer face"

"It bothers ya?"

"It doesn't." A weight lifted off his chest immediately; she accepted his company, she welcomed him into the privacy of a room she had transformed into her own haven. "But—" he thought too fast, "—what does, though, is not knowing what you're tryna accomplish."

His brain painted itself completely blank the moment her words reached him. He knew exactly what his motives were, but he couldn't come out and say it straight to her face. She'd simply steer clear from him if she found he was openly pursuing her. Would she, though? Ah, he couldn't be sure about anything anymore. "Friendship?" he blurted out when his silence grew uncomfortable even for himself. It was the closest thing, his first step to what his actual goal was. He wasn't lying. He simply danced around the truth.

[Surname] heaved out an exhausted sigh right in front of his face. "What's your name?"

He wondered if that sharp pain on his chest was heart failure for seeing her so up close or if her question had managed to physically manifest and stab him in the ribs. "Miya Osamu."

She stretched out her open palm, cueing him to shakily hand over the water bottle he'd been warming with his sweaty nervousness. [Surname] puffed out a chuckle, "No, I'm—" She passed the bottle onto her other hand and presented her palm again. "I'm [Surname] [Name]."

And although Osamu knew that—he'd known her name the entire three times he'd come to bother her solely because he wanted more of her company—he somehow managed to forget about everything and anything he'd ever learned in his life when her hand slipped into his. Long, pianist fingers, calloused skin proof of endless practice, a firm grip that exuded nothing but confidence. He'd never cared for a pair of hands before, but now he wished for nothing more than to hold hers.

The Interhigh preliminaries rolled around. Osamu's hopes remained up high in the Summer clouds, and yet they came crashing down to shatter on the middle of the court when he sneaked a peek towards the cheering squad. He recognized the person directing the band, but it wasn't [Name]. The same boy he'd seen during his first year before that one match where she showed up to lash out at Atsumu. The official band director, essentially.

Before the Interhigh Tournament pulled him away from school for more days than he'd like to go without interacting with [Name], he knocked on the clubroom. "Come in!" her voice called out to him over the sound of her drums. Osamu's hand hesitated as it reached towards the handle. She usually opened the door for him, stopping her music instantly upon hearing the knock. Was she expecting someone else?

He walked in and closed the door behind him, turning towards the end of the room where [Name]'s arms flew freely to slam her drumsticks down and create the catchiest beat he'd ever heard. She nodded at him as he settled down on his seat and a few seconds later finished her piece. The plates chimed and reverberated around him before she muted them with her fingers.

"You can stop knockin', y'know? Just come in at this point."

Yes, she'd been expecting him. His heart rate rose excitedly to speeds unknown to humans. A smile tugged at his lips, and not only his cheeks but his whole body warmed up with lovesick adoration. He still couldn't understand how [Name] managed to affect him this way, squeezing all his feelings out of his heart with nothing but words. He cleared his throat to assure himself he wouldn't stumble over his own thoughts. "So, yer… Ya comin' to the Interhighs?"

"No."

Well, that was harsh. "It's 'cause of 'Tsumu, ain't it?"

"Who's that?"

"Atsumu? My brother?"

"Miya Atsumu and Osamu. 'Tsumu and…"

"'Samu."

She hummed. "Yeah, it's 'cause of your brother."

When he stood on the court to play the rounds through the Interhighs, his eyes darted involuntarily up to the stands. [Name] wasn't there, she'd told him she wouldn't be there, and yet he wished she were. The music, the cheer, the noises; they all sounded different with the disturbing knowledge that she wasn't taking part in them. He sat out the finals with a pounding headache.

Osamu takes a swig from his drink, letting his throat and vocal chords take a break from all this retelling he's been doing. He ignores [Name] cooing at him as she mocks his high-school feelings going haywire at every single moment. Comments travel here and there, floating around the table—mostly Suna providing audiovisual material to go along with the tale of Osamu's crush. But Atsumu wants to take the microphone for himself for a few seconds.

He clinks a spoon against his empty cup to bring the attention towards him. "Listen here! I've somethin' to say."

Silence falls and everyone stares at the smirk on his face with narrowed eyes. [Name] starts, "Is it—"

"Yeah, [Name], it's relevant to the story."

"Fine."

First, the rumors about Osamu's crush had gone around. Now, the rumors of spotting the famous Miya twin heading all the way to the third floor daily. Word travelled extremely quickly around the Inarizaki campus and it didn't take long for it all to reach Atsumu's ears. Of course, he was alongside Suna and Ginjima when two students passed them by in the hallways, speaking about the twin they'd been looking for.

"Ya sure 'twas Osamu-kun?"

"I know it don't make sense, but he was goin' up to the third floor."

"Ya think he's crushin' on an upperclassman?"

The pair had strolled out of hearing range before any of their possible theories could reach the volleyball players' ears. Osamu going up to the third floor frequently would explain why he seemed to disappear as soon as recess was announced. A light-bulb lit up inside Ginjima's brain when he managed to connect the dots.

"The music clubroom," he announced with a snap of his fingers.

Atsumu bolted towards the stairs in a split second, leaving Suna and Ginjima to share a saturated glance. They sighed in unison before following after him and up the stairs. As the three were hiding behind the corner, they caught sight of Osamu waltzing into the clubroom as if it were routine for him—which it was. They all knew Osamu's hands were good for one thing and it was cooking, not music. Atsumu signaled the other two to move closer to the door and listen on whatever he happened to be doing behind it.

Notes and chords on a piano was all that reached them. Over the music, Osamu's voice called out, "Hey, [Name]-san."

"Osamu." And the music stopped.

"Brought ya chips."

"Are you tryna dehydrate me?" Hard plastic crinkled and a thud landed on the floor. [Name] clicked her tongue. "Gee, thanks."

Atsumu turned to his two suffering friends, wearing the most disgusted grimace he could muster. Although her voice sounded softer and calmer, he could recognize the edge that had screamed at him after his match. Even if that wasn't enough of a giveaway, he'd heard about the Wicked Witch hiding away in the music clubroom during recess. But there was simply no way Osamu willingly visited that crazy chick when he had any amount of free time. He stomped away on his own, not bothering to wait for the pair of souls he'd dragged with him into his tantrum.

Rumors quickly renewed themselves. Word spread around about the Wicked Witch and one of the Miya twins.

"I don't remember that," [Name] hummed, hiding her smile behind her wine glass.

Osamu hugs her closer to his body and buries his face in her hair. "Neither do I."

"I fucking hate you both."

Laughter resonates through the table, though [Name]'s rises clearly above the rest. "I'm kidding. Of course I remember him hitting me with a water bottle. Way to woo a girl."

He pushes her away from him at record speed. "Am I too late to take back my vows?"

#Wicked Witch #Haikyuu #Miya Osamu #Miya Osamu x Reader #Osamu x Reader #Haikyuu x Reader

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roxannepolice · 10 months

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7 & 18 for the choose violence ask meme? :D

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them? Hate is a big word and it really doesn't make me happy to complain about Chibnall Who three times a day, but unfortunately the answer is Thirteen. Of course, it all kicked off with people being extermely fragile and pearl clutchy about how the Doctor being a woman will somehow change the very core of the character, but those takes were simply a block and filter flag for me, so it is easy to ignore them. But then the canon turned out to be what it was and, extremely controversial opinion, "just poorly written" isn't an excuse for a character only best possible reason to criticise them. Still, if we are just in the canon my attitude towards Thirteen is warm rather than cold! I'm absolutely not in any "not mah doctor" club, she's likeable and has some amazing moments (much as I hate TTC, her confrontation with Tecteun is genuinely good). But making her out to be the bestest regeneration evah, and her relationship with Yaz the hottest romance in the show's history, and you just have to abandon all of the (insert long adjective from critical theory of the day) ways of assessing fiction to appreciate how subtly ingenious the writing is, and her bs moral compass is actually heading somewhere (argument persisting even after she regenerated), and she's clearly thought from the beginning to be the Doctor that abandoned all hope (fun fact: her theme is based on Luke Skywalker's, as in having A New Hope written all over it), and if I, a cis woman, can't see how brilliant a character she is, then clearly I'm a class gender traitor - yeah, fandom really wants me to dislike her. And then one day I saw a set juxtaposing Ten sweettalking the Master in Eot with Thirteen's I aM sO MuCh mORe THan yOU that had a comment about how it's good we have a representation of "softer" male characters and "tougher" female ones and I just thought Huh. So you're telling me the core of the chacter did change along with gender?...

I should add, though: in the one piece of media that has Whittaker as Thirteen but no Chibnall that got released til now, the game Edge of Reality, she's really, really good! Just to be clear, the game itself is an absolute disaster gaming-wise, but the story is really something I want to consider a valid part of EU. It just... feels like the writers wrote it for any Doctor and tweaked it to fit in Thirteen's individual quirks, rather than starting from the quirks and then making a DW story out of them. And, since it also features Ten (whose ass you chase with the sonic. yes, I believe the Master was involved in the development), it answers the biggest question of all: yes, River would be very excited about her spouse being a woman now :3

18. it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on... CATMASTER!!! This isn't completely slept on, but there can never be enough Catmaster! Specifically the machnics of how the cheetah virus somehow stayed in their biodata and every Master after Ainley is literally a biological cat to some extent! And I guess I should finish the Chibnall negativity by praising bringing this up in canon again! The day the Doctor figures out they just need a laser pointer in the sonic can never come soon enough

#ask game #thank you this is fun!#sorry for taking sometime to answer but as i wrote i treat this a warm up for *serious* writng

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best-hifi-rush-character · 1 year

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If I may openly campaign for Macaron.

On purely a character design standpoint, Macaron’s character can immediately be identified by his outfit. His cybernetics give hints towards needing fine motor skills, his outfit suggests more practicality than flair, the eye shape and the clean shave combine to give a kindness that comes through the screen, so many fine things for a humble man who deserves to be cherished.

If we are gonna talk about personality and character arc, Korsica’s arc is completed rather simply and simple is fantastic here for the game, don’t glorify your heroes. it doesn’t give us much for her personality but it served it’s purpose! I admire Korsica in my own right for being a simple character… people STILL somehow manage to mess up characterizing her and that is dumb as hell. I have more gripes with Korsica fans mischaracterizing her, I’m sorry, she isn’t a cool headed leader. She is a hot headed, curious soldier type and that is enough for me. I have seen enough Korsica posts and went “ She would not fucking say that” because fanon and canon alas are more separated than usual in this fanon when it comes to her. Like, guys, for real, a lot of the traits y’all hc for Korsica, PEPPERMINT HAS.

For Macaron, his personality is given more complexities than Korsica and his own character arc of inaction still being a choice in itself is going to be a continuous work to go through and that gives a sort of richness to his character that doesn’t seem to be appreciated. In all honesty, my love and campaigning for Macaron is because of a simple thing, his character is left at a point where he can grow beyond that and the game gives us vines to grab and climb to see that, but it is only a few people and myself up here. We wish to spread the glory of a man who will support you and is dedicated to his work as much as he can be dedicated to you.

Also I speak on behalf of those whose faves lost to Korsica who I indoctrinated into the love of macaron.

Speaking of, I’m going to go Rally for 808 because I want to see the cat and Macaron fight.

Vote Macaron! He has a clear character, a majority of his fans can give you actual personality than just Big Man Hot, and he supports the people!

#i do love macaron!#just a big kind man #and he does have an interesting arc of being angry at zanzo/kale but not wanting to take any violent action #and having to realise that sometimes thats the only way you can get people to listen #...#yeah hes a good character

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volot · 2 years

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headcanon: empathy, sympathy, pity.

or: how volo views the world through his own fishbowl lens, and how his empathy has twisted itself into something that doesn’t look like it normally should.

remember how i wanted to talk about volo’s fucked up empathy? let’s jump into that.

when it comes to a character who wishes to end the world, there’s a common debate on whether or not these kinds of characters practice empathy. in the thickets of fandom spaces, i’ve seen either side argued; a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, and like all things on this blog, i’m inclined to think it’s a little more... complicated than that?

to start, i’ll say this: i don’t personally believe volo is a heartless person. but i also don’t believe volo is a bleeding heart, either.

volo is, after all, just a man. a man who has endured alluded to trauma, both generational and connected to his heritage / culture, and presumably very heartbreaking and painful situations based on what he says. he has seen history and its bloody, ugly bones, he has likely seen others suffer as he has if not worse, and has witnessed and been through enough to believe that change is not possible, but a full reset of everything is. there is no coming back, there is no change they can reach, they must start anew, and by someone who knows it best, under a god who will account for all the suffering in the world.

but he is also a man with a complex. he is someone who has deluded himself into believing he is grandiosely special, someone who is chosen and destined to meet with god, someone who is far greater than any other due to his destiny and the blood in his veins, that he is above many things for these reasons. he puts himself in the position of someone who is no man, but is someone meant for so much more, a being on par with divinity, who will reach apotheosis and bring forth a better world of his own plan. he views himself as the closest thing to god, a savior, and one who will become god and control creation at his fingertips. he has decided this. fate has decided this.

so, that begs the question: how does he feel with all this in mind? what does this do to his perspective?

there’s one word i’ve used consistently in writing him and i’ve always used it for a pretty good reason.

to put it simply: volo pities.

to be more precise: volo has a repeated behavior in-game where he looks and acts like he’s either very distant or purposefully separating himself from things ( people, places, affiliations, so on, outside of his roots ), and/or believing he is above it somehow. the way volo’s pity works is ironically similar to the god he chases and condemns: the best way to describe it, i think, is comparing it to that of a god looking down upon something that is small and pitiful, reserved and not personally involved, but they can recognize that this is, indeed, something very sad, he can acknowledge the tragedy of it, of what a shame it is that they must have gone through or endured these things.

i’ve talked plenty of times about how volo suffers from extreme tunnel vision, focusing heavily on his own grief and using others as means of justification of his own resolution to the problem. a good post that glazes over it is this one, where i still stand by the fact that while empathetic, volo’s empathy is very selfish and self-serving. your grief, suffering, and hardship are fuel to his ever-burning fire; he will remember and carry it with him up to god’s altar when he asks why, but he doesn’t care for if you want the world reset or not: your agony is clear to him, a bargaining piece, a shard to fix in his new world. this quote of his puts it best:

"You see, ever since I was young, whenever I met with something painful or heartbreaking... I couldn't help but wonder why life was so unfair. Why I was cursed to live through such things. Of course, I imagine we all go through something like that. “

i’ve bolded an important line here, because volo talks primarily of his own grief, first and foremost. he rattles on about his own hardships, the wounds still aching; he’s focused on it first, then tacks on that he imagines ‘we all go through something like that.’ this can be read as sort of a dismissive afterthought, as though he’s saying ‘yeah others probably feel this way, too.’ but i believe this is him setting up sympathies, evoking a sense of familiarity, and equally accounting for the fact that he has seen people suffer just as he has. he knows it isn’t just him, even if he’s centered on his own orbit; there are others in this world who have gone through similar hardships, and they are one of the many footnotes as to why this world must be reset. it is resounding for him, i think. hammering the point in. to himself, to the player; that if there are others, then the world must be reset, that they would want this too; this forces the player to think: do we all go through something like that? are there others who feel this way, too? do we, as the player, feel this way as well?

that’s not to say volo is cruel about it. hardly so. if you were to bare your heart to him, then he will fall into his savior complex easily. become the shoulder you need, become the hands you need to hold you upright when the world feels as though it will shatter beneath you, the arms you can allow yourself to crumble into. he will comfort you, he will console you with soft words that sound sympathetic, gentle touches if you want them - validate your hurt your anger, your upset, your grief. he will sympathize, he will let you vent it out, he will dry your tears, he will become whatever pillar of strength and hope you require. for as much as he blathers, he’s good at it; the listening, the consoling. the whispering of promises for a better world, with the ambition to back it up if he has tried to instill this into you. someone who understands, who is hearing you, who is listening to you, who is seeing your grief and says ‘i’m sorry that this happened to you.’ ( this too is manipulative in a way, but what isn’t about him? )

...but does he relate to you? does his heart bleed for you? no, not exactly. i believe he can recognize the grief, the tragedy, he can recognize your sadness and he can pity with all he has; he feels bad for you, for your situation. his expression may turn somber, or he may scowl at the heavens. but this is less to do with you, on a level that is intimate and personal, and more struggle in his faith, a sisyphean feeling in regards to arceus; he wonders, how can a god with a heart do this? how can a god that is claimed to be compassionate and good and true able to allow these tragedies to roll by? he may feel anger at your situation, but it is all anger that is directed at god. he feels, intensely as he tends to, but not to the point of being blinded by it. there is a line he must draw. distance he must retain.

something i’ve meant to talk about in my future headcanon explaining how he manipulates is that he can recognize when someone has suffered just like he has. he can find these threads of similarity, but he does not outright relate to you: instead, he acknowledges it and uses it to his own advantage but again, remains distant and detached. this will get its own post, but hey, it’s still worth noting.

he cannot put himself in your shoes - in the same way he avoids getting attached to people in general, because this world is going to end sooner than later - and walk through your steps because it is beneath him to do so, but he can carry you over the ledges and the rifts and the mountains. he struggles to relate to you, on a non-superficial level, but most important is that he cannot bleed himself dry for you, because a god without blood will be too weak to lift the new world up. so instead, he looks down upon you.

“but lucian,” you say. “if he pities people, what about how carelessly he talks about how everyone will die when the world is reset?” and to it i say to you: i think it’s still a little complicated!

with that quote, this one:

"Of course, if I create a brand-new world, then the Hisui region that we currently exist in will be undone and returned to nothing. You, everyone you know, and all the Pokémon living here will vanish in an instant, as if you'd never been."

i’ve seen this argued in favor of him having no empathy, and while i respect that analysis, i don’t personally view it as the case. i think here, he displays a few things:

1.) he has already decided on this goal a long, long time ago. while not spoiling my written headcanon on his motivations, it is worth noting that he is also curious about the power arceus holds, and i’m sure he is of the belief that if there was someone he wished to bring over, why would he be unable to? he is delusional and on a power high, and thoroughly convinced this is possible.

2.) even if that weren’t possible, then this will not stop him. he has already been dead-set on what the outcome is, and there is nothing good without a little sacrifice. it is sad that people will lose their lives in this world if he recreates it, yes; tragic, definitely, these are things he can absolutely recognize. but he must do what he has to, and this is not something that will make him hesitate or reconsider. what must be done, must be done. their lives are already so filled with suffering and doomed: it is best to end them early before misery sets, and give them a brand new shot in the new world. the ends justify the means.

3.) he is likely saying this to also provoke the player, while not being dishonest about it: because he demands that they must fight beneath god’s eye, because that is what he wants. he wants to bid a show for arceus, to prove that he is the one that should be rightfully chosen, and then get rid of you, so that someone like you doesn’t dare oppose him.

in the end... your grief is something he considers pitiful; people are pitiful souls and pokemon are pitiful beasts, and he will drink your sorrows from the well to fill his ambitions whole.

#hc.#study.#blows dust off this hc.......#mario voice here we gooOOOOUGH #no more putting him in absolutes of 'actually he's good ):' or 'hehe him evil >:)' we have mved past the need for absolutes he's jsut Gray #listening to a very fucked up song i do not know the name of while writing this really help set the vibe i think #Vologelion 3.0: You Can[not] Fix Him

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popculturebuffet · 2 years

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So given Marcy's Journal and Art of DuckTales have had previews released now, what do you think of the previews? Do they give promise for both books? Does it make you hope they sell well enough to either get more Amphibia and DuckTales 2017 content or at least more lore books/art books based on Disney TVA series?

I can 't find them. But on the latter half obviously. I wouldnt mind comics continuations for either, especially now with their new deal with Dynamite means they have a monthly comics publisher again. On the terms of new content.. i'm iffy as Disney has shown time and time again they don't respect their children's animation content till it can make them nostalgia money, so while there's a VERY clear demand for comics contiuations or interquels for gravity falls, amphibia, ducktales or owl house, the odds of any of this happening is slim. I still hold out hope though for at least some and Frank and Matt DID have plenty of ideas for a season 4 that could be taken to comics. So new comic continuations (which wasn't mentioned but what the hell i'm on vacation), are iffy, but very possible if the demand is high enough. Lore books I feel are a bit more likely. While the shows left aren't exactly lore heavy yet (though ghost and molly mcgee does have a world to explore in the ghost realm, so maybe), it would be intresting to get more worldbuilding form these types of things for say GAMM or Big City Greens. They seem to be the only type of merch Disney regularly greenlights without any reservation or their usual stupidity. It's also very QUAINT talking about their usual stupidity after the ongoing HBO Max Dumpster Fire of 2020. Like... after putting up with so much horrible from WBD, i'ts nice to go back to Disney who can be downright awful, but are usually just frustratingly dumb.

As for Art Books, it's a coin flip. On the one hand, Disney has a VERY bad track record of underestimating this sort of thing and has only done so for their movies and what not. On the other the fact this exists itself is a good sign. While DuckTales is the only show they've acknowledged has multi-gen appeal half the time, it's also the first time they've done this. They HAD a gravity falls artbook ready, and likely still have all that stuff on file, and canned it for no reason, something I'd forgotten about till doing a google. So this MAY be a test run to see if people will buy these more often and if so we may get not only that Gravity Falls book, but also more. But they may also pull a disney and simply not do more because it was wet outside. I don't know. Disney can be entirely frustrating so it's a waiting game. I do think Amphibia has a high chance of it given both the shows massive sucess and unlike Owl House, Disney not being ashamed of it because their stupid. Either way i'm happy we at least got ONE fo rmy shelf that I intend to somehow get eventually, either via christmas or saving money or something and i'ts osmething previews or not i'm VERY excited for. I have Dark Horse's venture bros book and it's utterly gorgeous, giant and beautiful, and has been invaluable in my retrospective (Which for those watching still is happening the last few months have just been not great)

#disney #amphibia #ducktales #the owl house #the ghost and molly mcgee #dynamite entertainment

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highwayphantoms · 2 years

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happy friday, jay! how does “You can go to sleep now. I will keep watch.” sound for Rowan?

thank you! here's a little something with Rowan and Blackwall for @dadrunkwriting :)

She can’t put her finger on it, but there’s something about camping in the Exalted Plains that sets her on edge. It’s not the undead prowling the abandoned forts, nor is it the Dalish clan sighted by Inquisition scouts. Either one would make sense: Rowan’s fairly certain that images of walking, rotting corpses will haunt her dreams for weeks, and she’s heard enough tales of what the Dalish do to trespassers to know to steer clear. No, as much as the two things are obvious threats, she’s certain it’s something else.

“Inquisitor,” Blackwall says suddenly, jolting Rowan out of her thoughts. Her eyes shoot straight to where he stands on the opposite side of the fire, watching her. A moment too late, she remembers that she’s supposed to be on watch, not puzzling over the source of her uneasiness. “Something on your mind?” he adds.

She hesitates. Her first instinct is to lie, to maintain the fiction that the famed Inquisitor is not a walking knot of fear and anger—but she’s known Blackwall long enough to know that he would see through any such pretense. He’s not like Cassandra, who can be easily convinced of anything she wants to believe. No, lying to Blackwall is a dangerous game.

As silly as it feels to admit the truth, she replies, “I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something wrong with this place.” Somehow, she expects him to laugh even though she knows that he wouldn’t, that he’s a strange man who, for some inexplicable reason, deeply respects her.

Most people would laugh.

Most people wouldn’t have taken the time to not only suggest a style of fighting better suited to her abilities but to also train her in it.

Blackwall nods seriously. “Battlefields are like that,” he says. “All the death and bloodshed—it thins the Veil. Makes things seem just a little bit off.”

“Maybe that’s it,” she concedes. It seems unlikely; not that the Veil might be thinner here, but rather that she might sense it and not know. Through the Anchor on her hand, she can feel rifts in the Veil. Surely she would notice weak spots in the Veil that haven’t yet torn in the same way? A question for Solas, maybe; he always hedges with in the Fade and I suspect, but his answers usually end up being the right ones nonetheless. Rowan yawns, and says, “I thought you were taking third watch.”

He shrugs. “I am,” he replies. Neither of them speak for a few moments, the crackling of the fire and the distant chorus of bugs and nighttime critters the only sounds. Then: “You look exhausted,” Blackwall says, not unkindly.

Rowan shakes her head. “I’m fine,” she replies, and glances up at the sky. Still an hour or so shy of midnight, she guesses.

“Mhm,” he responds, sounding entirely unconvinced. “You should get some sleep, my lady. I’ll keep watch.”

That. That, she’ll never get used to. A shem, calling her “lady”? Anyone else, and she would assume it was meant as an insult—but not from Blackwall.

Still, she’s not going to say no to getting some extra sleep.

She flashes him a grateful smile as she picks herself up off the ground. Her left leg’s gone numb from sitting on it; to buy herself time to let it sort itself out, Rowan asks, “Why aren’t you asleep, if I might ask?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says simply. “Goodnight, Inquisitor.”

“Goodnight, Blackwall.”

#dadwc #dragon age #city elf quizzy AU #da fic #jay writes

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thoughtdestroyer · 2 years

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Desperation Relapse

Growing up i had a hard time

With adjustments

Life was always changing too fast

I’m excited to document why

Because it feels freeing

At last

I hid behind myself feelings

Let them take the blame

The anger, the guilt I’m dealing

With a healthy dose of shame

I have always hated scammers

And fought and somehow won

But its not because of hate that my winning

Is done

I win because I love

Freely

All the time

I am sure love is good for my health

But not after first dealing with my

Little self

The child in me was bright and clear

Not sure if pure is the word to use here

Purity isn't a human trait

It’s better left to things

Characters, fantasy, even kinks

It’s a struggle I've had for a lot of my life

It manifests when friendship with boys

Encounter desires strife

Its not like im ever intentionally excluding

I’m not trying to yank a chain

I’m not trying to dominate you

Or even put you through pain

I am just trying to be me

It is just to attempt to be free

I and therefore you am deserving of a love without stalking

Constantly checking and peeping and coughing

I swear love always has my attention

But i live in the scam world, not the

Fantasy dimension

I’m Practicing practically

The things i wish to say

The poetry within them

The music that they play

Can’t one black woman in the world

Have a little privacy?

I do love to make friends online

I love to think and give them my time

Every now and then desire climbs

And i was to follow her to the beat

Of her time

But I already know which love is mine

I really love Blue

It reminds me of god itself

Every person’s first love

Spiritually really can be decisive

Deceiving it can feel fake

It can feel like a trick played by a sexy little snake

But im just a girl

I really like cringe

I used to like gore

From the times i used to hurt before

Recoiling away? It keeps me protected

It keeps the ones i love from getting infected

Fear is hate, it’s simply said.

I’m really trying not to fear the beautiful sad old man in my head

But paranoia is a thing i had when i was little

Barely recovered and the highs made that fickle

My communication skills to not need to be tickled

But that game is still super fun

I was hoping

I’d play for a while with someone

But without concrete evidence

Everything and everyone sucks

You need to know what feel

When you want to fuck

What I’m saying is

I know stuff hurts

But it really isn't all bad

I’m leaving this note deep enough for me

That one day I’ll follow a path to find it

Asitting in my notes app

It’s not enough to step behind it

Turn it around

And behead it with a knife

Otherwise I’d never again feel strife!

Goals are never mandatory.

But action definitely is.

Cycles n patterns are real

Meanings are what we choose

I chose romance and i guess you chose this?

But it’s literally okay

I don’t need your kisses

My life is starting to look

Like I won 3 wishes

Decent enough to live in

So if you want to stay, stay

If you want to go, go

I can live my way too though

You know?

#version one #public #poetry #thoughts

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empress-of-hugs · 2 years

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Time In A Bottle - DoMAYstic day 6

Criminal Minds, Teen and up audiences.

Jason Gideon/David Rossi

Also available on AO3

"Here we are," Dave said quietly as he led Jason through a small break in the thick underbrush.

"It's beautiful," Jason breathed as he looked around the crescent-shaped clearing. The small patch of emerald grass was bordered on the outer rim by large, old pine trees and thick, almost impassable underbrush. A small, clear pond placed in the center edged the soft meadow grass, its rim lined with a short gravel beach. The pond itself ran along the edge of the cliff, small droplets of water occasionally departing from the steady but small waterfall and forming a semi-permanent rainbow just off the edge of the cliff. Jason found himself completely taken in by the sight. It all but distracted him from the sweet yet fragile fragrance of the many tiny flowers that dotted the green carpet.

Dave smiled as he looked around, "It is, isn't it? I found this place almost twenty years ago." He turned to Jason, the warm smile on his face carried through to his voice, "I've always wanted to show you, but somehow it was simply never the right time."

"It is now," Jason crossed over to the large stone to the right of the clearing and sat himself down, panting ever so slightly.

Still standing in the shade of the large trees, Dave wiped the sweat off his brow. “It’s getting warm already.”

Jason nodded, already unlacing his boots after discarding both his pack and his jacket, “I’m gonna go stick my feet into the water,” he said with a lopsided smile, “that should help cool me down a bit.”

Nodding, Dave walked over to where Jason was perched on the large rock. He placed his pack beside Jason’s and peeled off his already damp sweatshirt. It wasn’t long before his T-shirt too, fell to the soft grass. Wobbling on one leg, he took off his expensive hiking boots, placing them beside Jason’s, next to the stone his friend was sitting on. He ignored the way Jason’s eyes seemed to stick to him, smiling a little self-consciously as he realized he’d gotten a bit plump over the years. He looked away for a moment, fingers resting on the ornate belt buckle he loved so much. “There’s no one else around for miles, if not more. Why stop at only dipping our toes in?”

Jason smiled as he finally broke his gaze away from Dave, letting it rest on the small rainbow instead, “Why indeed?” he said, an amused smile in his voice. He quickly shed his shirt and socks before standing up to remove his jeans. Dave stood semi-frozen, a pensive look on his face as he stared off into the trees.

For now Jason decided to ignore his old friend’s apparent nerves. This sort of thing had never been a problem when they were younger, back when Dave had been convinced he was hot shit. Jason almost sighed. Dave still looked damn fine to him, but he’d rather have the skin flayed off his back than tell him that. The man’s ego was already larger than life, it always had been. He quickly discarded his jeans, folding his clothes in a neat pile on top of the flat stone, leaving enough space for a similar stack of Dave’s clothes.

He waited for a moment, studying the man in his periphery. When he realized it was unlikely that Dave was going to move while he was technically able to watch him, Jason let out a quiet breath. He silently wished things were different, but he knew he had no right to feel that way. Confusing the comfort of friendship with something else was a dangerous game to play, after all. He knew all too well how dangerous that game really was. Turning to the water, Jason took a deep breath before quickly crossing the small gravel beach. The rocks bit into his feet and Jason really hoped the bottom of the pond itself wasn’t lined with this stuff. He already realized that was most likely wishful thinking, but any thinking that didn’t involve Dave was a good thing right now, he decided. When he touched his foot to the water he was pleased to find it cool, yet not too cold.

Behind him, Jason heard the metal cling of a belt buckle – or rather, he assumed that’s what it was since it was the only logical explanation for the all-too-familiar sound that sounded oddly distorted in this place. Jason forcefully fought the urge to turn around – to see if he was right, surely, not because he wanted so desperately to see what Dave was revealing. He reminded himself they were friends for the millionth time. Just friends. Dave clearly had no aspirations to ever be anything more.

He had hinted at it. Jason remembered those days as if they happened in a different lifetime, and they might as well have. Those early days of the BAU, when they had traveled all over the country. Usually alone, sometimes together. The cases they had taken together had always been the better times. Not just to have someone to bounce ideas off of, not just to have someone to share the horrors with and keep each other sane. Jason smiled when the rainbow before his eyes broke and reformed as the droplets each chose their own path. Those days they didn’t have the budget that the BAU had now. Shared motel rooms had been the norm. Tiny, cramped rooms. Sometimes there had only been one bed. They had spent every minute of the day together on those occasions. Jason had realized early on that his feelings for Dave were beyond those of a colleague, a friend even. He had to continuously remind himself that their close bond was an all but inevitable result of their job. . Revealing his true feelings when they were stuck in a small office by day and a tiny bedroom by night could have easily had disastrous results. So he never did. But it had been impossible to deny every hint of his feelings. It would have been unlivable had he not allowed himself to touch on his real intent. Jason slowly closed his eyes. For all the times they had been together, for all the times he’d played at what was inside his heart, Dave had always stuck to their friendship – and nothing more. It was impossible to think that a skilled profiler like David Rossi could have ever missed the signs, therefore the only option was that he had noticed, and subsequently continuously shot down Jason’s ill-hidden attempts at being something more.

Light cursing behind him indicated that Dave had reached the gravel and Jason looked back at him without thinking. Dave still looked every bit as breathtaking as he ever had, and Jason smiled. The other man huffed, “Are you enjoying the view or my pain?”

Even after all these years of hiding, he had no choice but to be honest when this man asked him a direct question. In part, because he was certain Dave would see straight through any lie. In part because lying to David Rossi hurt more than knowing he was doomed to be nothing but a shadow in the man’s life. Always there, but intangible, something that could easily be ignored. Jason allowed a small smile to tug on the corner of his mouth, “A little of both.”

Dave chuckled and shook his head, muttering something about ancient trees and the strong smell of pine on the air. Jason only nodded along, his eyes surreptitiously taking in the curves of Dave’s body. He still looked good, even with the belly.

Dave swallowed as once again his friend’s eyes refused to leave his body. His own gaze lingered uselessly around his feet. He didn’t see anything but his own memories, however. Ever since the first time he had found this small clearing, he had wanted to show it to Jason. Jason was sure to appreciate it, he knew. It could be a shared experience. He could even guide Jason here as if he had never seen this place before either. He could make believe they had found it together. Dave shook his head ever so lightly, what had he been thinking? As if Jason wouldn’t have seen right through him. He’d known it, even then. So he never did bring Jason here. The plan was too seethrough. He himself too predictable. As always, his ideas had been far too transparent. Even now, in this moment, he was certain Jason had already ascertained his true motive for bringing him here. The searching gaze was to determine how to react. He almost smiled to himself; Jason would react the way he always had. Dave felt a particularly sharp stone underneath his foot and sucked in a sharp breath. He lifted his foot, but by placing all his weight on his other foot, the gravel dug deeper into his skin there. Annoyed, he brushed the sharp pebble off his foot before hurrying the last few steps to the water. He felt ridiculously exposed as he padded past Jason and splashed into the water. There were few rocks here, and most had been softened by the continuous flow of water. Dave sighed in relief as his toes burrowed into the soft sand.

He watched the water splash over the edge of the pond, sending droplets flying all over, extending the rainbow behind Dave. If only it could have been a sign. Jason shook his head but finally followed his friend in.

Even in the deepest spot, the water barely reached their thighs. They stood side by side and for a while, neither man spoke. Each was absorbed in their own thoughts, their own memories. Eventually, Dave spoke so quietly that the hum of the bumblebee at the water’s edge almost drowned him out. “I’ve been wanting to bring you here since the first time I saw it.”

Jason smiled softly, his eyes fixed on the rainbow that shimmered just off the cliff’s edge, “Why didn’t you?”

Shrugging, he broke the almost magical atmosphere with a tone that bordered on bitter, “Afraid you’d reject me, I suppose.”

He forced his eyes to remain on the rainbow while wanting nothing more than to study Dave’s face. But the situation was too delicate, too [painful], “Reject you?”

An unpleasant smile splayed across Dave’s face, “Reject me. I swear I should be used to it by now.” He shook his head, “But I’m not. How could I be?”

Jason searched the idyllic surroundings for answers that he knew he wouldn’t find, “What do you mean, reject you? I’ve never –”

“Oh, be quiet for once, Jason.” Dave’s voice was gruff and Jason knew that if he would look at him, he would see the unshed tears in Dave’s eyes. He also knew that Dave would never forgive him for looking. He heard him suck in a shaky breath before he continued, his voice quiet once more, “I’ve kept it from you because I didn’t want to burden you. But maybe… maybe it’s time to ask someone to share the burden with me. Someone who’s always been by my side, someone I can trust with not just my life, but my death.” Dave took another shaky breath, “But first, there’s something else I have to tell you. Something I’ve been keeping quiet about for far too long.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Turning away from the rainbow, he finally faced his friend. He searched the face he knew so well, sudden realization making his world spin as his stomach tied itself into a tight knot. “Please don’t tell me I’ve been wrong all these years,” Jason whispered. “Please don’t tell me that all these years, I was hiding the same thing you were. That we lost decades to that fear.”

Dave’s eyes seemed to search his face. Randomly scattering about from his eyes to his lips. From his forehead to his chin. From his lips to the frown on his brow and back to his lips. Jason realized what was about to happen only a moment before Dave’s lips crashed against his own.

Arms folded around him, pulling him tightly against Dave’s body. He shivered at the close contact, closer than anything they had shared before. Without thinking to, he brought up his own hands, following the shape of Dave’s arms until one came to rest on his shoulder, the other awkwardly trying not to slide below the waistband of Dave’s underwear. All this time, Dave kissed him hungrily. Without coherent thought, all Jason could do was return the kiss with equal fervor. He staggered backward, pushed back by the passion of Dave’s kiss. But before he could reach the edge of the water, Dave suddenly pulled back, slipping out of their embrace with a practiced sort of ease. Jason found himself clawing at the empty air, feeling a lonely dread settle in his heart.

Dave looked at him with shocked eyes, his lips forming words that his throat would not complete. He stepped back a few more paces and swallowed hard. “Jason,” his voice was hoarse with emotion, “did we really… All these years, we –” he stopped talking and slowly sank to his knees. The water lapped at his chest hair, drops sticking to it and reflecting the greenery around. Jason couldn’t stop looking at them. It was easier than looking at Dave’s face, for sure. Anything would be easier than acknowledging the pain and regret that they both felt. All those times they had shared a tiny motel room. All those times they’d shared the bed, joking how they should put a rolled-up blanket in between them. All the times he’d imagined Dave might kiss him now if he let him, and then convinced himself that his imagination was getting the better of him. That he needed to sleep or focus on the case instead of fantasizing about his best friend. It had taken them this long to finally admit to the feelings that had been actively denied between them for over twenty years. Jason sighed, allowing his body too, to sink to the soft sand beneath him.

Dave wiped a hand over his face, leaving countless droplets behind and almost hiding the trail of tears that disappeared into his goatee. “Jason,” he whispered, “I wish I could say that was the reason I brought you here. I wish so desperately that I could be content to leave it at this. I –” his voice broke and he averted his gaze. A few sobs racked his body, and he no longer tried to hide them. “If you want them… we’ll have about six months together. I won’t blame you for not taking me up on them though,” he gave the small rainbow a wry smile, “they’re not going to be very fun. They won’t be what you deserve.”

Jason felt his throat run dry. His lips were parted and yet he could not manage a single breath through them. His fingers felt numb, his eyes impossibly arid. He couldn’t swallow. He couldn’t produce a single sound. His body was too heavy to move. Dave cried silent tears not three feet away and yet he could not go to him. The water rippled as he tried, but something fought against him, held him in position. Too far away.

Dave took a shaky breath. He refused to look at the man beside him. Slowly closing his eyes, he lowered his head. “I understand.”

There was no pain in the words. No emotion. Acceptance. Acceptance was all there was. But he couldn’t accept it, not any of it. Jason forced himself forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Dave’s trembling body. “You understand nothing,” he managed to push out, “Nothing, you hear? Who’s your doctor? What’s wrong? We’ll find someone better, because I’m not losing you now. I refuse!” The last words were a cry to the gods, whichever gods existed. It didn’t matter that most of his time in temple had been spent there to appease his mother. He had still been there. Wasted time on something that might not even exist. Centuries of human religion must’ve gotten some of them right, they had to. Because Jason needed them now. Gods, otherworldly beings, angels even. It didn’t matter that he’d never truly believed in any of them before. It was time they repaid him. “You’re fighting this, you hear? Whatever it is, we’re fighting it together!”

Dave shook uncontrollably in his arms, no longer fighting the tears as he buried his face against Jason’s neck, “It’s cancer, Jason. It’s spread from my lungs all the way down to my liver. I never went to see anyone when I was coughing. I thought I had a cold, I thought it would pass. I didn’t want to take the time then, and now I have no time left.”

“Like hell you have no time left,” Jason growled, gathering Dave up into his arms even tighter. “We are going to make the time. We are going to carve that time out wherever we can. I’m getting you in to see a friend of mine. He’s the best in his field. Won the Lasker Award last year. That’s like, almost a prerequisite for the Nobel Prize nowadays. He’s good, he’s the best. The best of the best. He’ll be able to help.” Jason swallowed his next words, ‘he has to.’

In his arms, Dave nodded, “I’ll see him. If… if you could come with me, I’d appreciate that…”

Jason frowned as he hugged Dave tighter, burying his nose into his hair, “I’m going wherever you’re going. You try and get rid of me now.”

Dave chuckled. It sounded fragile, but sincere. He held on to Jason just as tight as Jason held onto him. He didn’t know how long they sat there, the cool water splashing against their still-warm bodies. Eventually though, Dave moved back just far enough to speak, “Jason… can I have one day? One day before the cancer talk takes over my life again. Just one day to spend with you before we let this thing take over?”

Taking a deep breath, Jason moved back just far enough to look Dave in the eyes. His hands naturally cupped the face of the man he had always loved. For a moment, his eyes searched Dave’s face. The worry lines, the wrinkles that had appeared out of nowhere, the ever-present fear in his eyes, Jason saw it all now, wondering how he’d ever missed the signs before. He forced a smile on his face, forced back the tears, “Of course,” he said softly before leaning in and carefully pressing his lips against Dave’s. He couldn’t stand to look at him now, he couldn’t manage to hide his tears. He needed a few moments to gather his thoughts. A few moments to hide his face and let his emotions be raw. Tears streaked his face as they kissed slowly.

When they finally pulled apart, Jason smiled warmly. His worries were pushed to the side for now. Tomorrow he’d revisit them, but for now, Dave needed him here. He guided them to the edge of the water, where a small ledge formed a bench and provided a comfortable place to rest. Reaching out, he grabbed his canteen of water, offering it to Dave before having some for himself. A bumblebee took a taste of the flowers surrounding their packs and they leaned against each other as they watched the little fuzzball bop around. Dave wrapped an arm around him and Jason instinctively leaned into the touch. He let his eyes fall closed as he listened to Dave’s heartbeat. They were together. The world could stand to wait for just one day.

Fin.

#domaystic2022 #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #its true love #David Rossi #jason gideon #love confessions #cancer #fuck cancer #sfw #ao3 fanfic #tragedy #first kiss #rough kissing #mutual pining #this is my longest prompt yet #i dont know how to cut a post so deal with it #prompt: A cozy corner

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mendezkloster35 · 1 year

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Minecraft Warden: how to Avoid, Spawn Or Fight

Minecraft Warden How to spawn, avoid, or fight

The terrifying new Minecraft Warden mob awaits you in The Wild Update; here's everything you must be aware of about how to spot them and how to avoid detection

Jordan Forward

Updated June 8, 2022, 05:08 ET

Do you want to know more about the new Minecraft Warden mob? The terrifying monster is lurking within Minecraft's caves as part of the Minecraft 1.19 update. It made its debut in the first Minecraft snapshot.

The Minecraft Warden patrols deep caverns, and is the only one who is blind to the mob. So, what makes the Warden so frightening? The Warden is able to track you down even in the absence of sight. Instead, the Warden uses sound to find the player and you need to be very sneaky to avoid a confrontation with this new gang - if you're clever, you can throw objects like snowballs to force the Warden to head in a different direction. However, if you find yourself exposed and with nowhere to go then you must confront this powerful beast.

Join us as we go through everything Mojang has shared on one of the most terrifying Minecraft mobs in the game from its damage output and health pool, to its movements characteristics and the location of its spawn.

Minecraft Warden spawn

Wardens can be found in the Deep Dark biome, so you'll need to be deep into a cavern exploration before encountering this mob. Wardens have unique spawn requirements. If the light level is less than 11 and there's not another Warden in the vicinity the Warden will rise from the ground whenever an individual activates the Sculk Shrieker three times.

If a Warden enters the daylight or enters a room with an excessive amount of light, it will immediately bury itself, disappearing for good. It will also bury you within one minute of losing sight of you.

Minecraft Warden tips

How to avoid being a Minecraft Warden

Wardens shuffle around, reacting to sounds they hear by skulking in their bodies. Because of the darkness it emits the Wardens may cause lights to flicker when they pass. The darkness can also affect your eyesight if you are within close proximity to the Warden.

If you opt to sneak around in the dark, the Warden will kindly glide by if you remain still and don't make a noise. To distract the Warden throw snowballs. He will eventually slip by.

If you notify a Warden to your presence by making too loud noises or by being too close or by yelling the Warden becomes more agitated, before it explodes into a rage of anger and begins to chase you. You've got a few options: run away, fight it, or simply throw it away.

A Warden can outrun a player running at full speed, so if you're going to run it, make sure you have a clear path to the outside and enough endurance to make it there in time. SKINNIGHT A word of warning though that hazards like water won't hinder it and it's able to withstand knockback and damage from both lava and fire.

There are a number of things to ward off the Warden off your scent. The first is that it could be provoked by other Warden mobs to attack them instead of moving around. You can also confuse it with projectiles, and activating a minecart. This will allow you to slip away.

How do you defeat a Minecraft Warden

A Warden has a colossal 250 hearts. The Warden's strong attack rate and health pool make them the most powerful mobs that can be made naturally in Minecraft. Because its attack power is contingent on your difficulty setting, here are the Warden's stats:

- Easy: 8 hearts per hit - Normal: 15 hearts per hit - Hard: 22.5 hearts per hit

Its attacks shut down Minecraft shields for a period of time and have a lengthy vertical range of as much as four blocks. So if you are playing in the hard mode, it will instantly kill you with a single attack, even if are wearing full Netherite armour.

If you somehow slay an Warden and get killed, you'll receive just three experience orbs to compensate for your troubles. It's a sculkblock and the blocks that surround it become veins of sculk.

Related: Here are the most effective Minecraft seeds

This is all we know about the Warden for the moment. It's definitely worth dropping a few Minecraft candles to light any dark corridors.

#SKIN NIGHT #Skinnight

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godspeedwarrior · 1 year

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I fond myself lately in a state of melancholy.

Like an animal trapped in a zoo.

In my time, I wonder and reflect on the life I've lived. The choices I've made, the friends I've let and lost, or the very lack of care towards the world I'm living in.

Since my youth I've always been posed the question, "What do you want to do with your life?" As if I had some grand understanding of the world and how it functioned. As a child, I didn't like brown potatoes. I didn't understand why, only that I preferred red potatoes, boiled and mashed. Now as a man, I recognize that there's very little different between the two, but in my naivete there was a clear and discernible difference that somehow made red potatoes better.

Potatoes are- well, small potatoes compared to deciding on a goal that you will pursue throughout your entire livelihood. It was like being asked to order at a restaurant you've never eaten at, and they don't have a menu. You don't know what's good or available to try.

I recall my sister changing her answer every other year. She wanted to be in a high well-respected position or something that paid incredibly well. In the end, she tried to go out for sports. Found she didn't dedicate her life to it early enough, fell back on medical training, and is now working a completely unrelated job with a useless degree.

I'd say, "Oh! How the mighty have fallen!" Yet it's the funniest damn thing. Our grandmother did almost the exact same path. She wanted to be a pro-athlete, found she couldn't fill the job, fell back on teaching, and found she was too old to be a gym coach.

History repeats itself, yet we disconnect from these life lessons out of a desire for independence.

I am left-handed. While it's truthfully nothing special, I put a great deal of stock in it over the simple fact that there were very few like me. I was an oddity and took comfort in that it make me special. But much like Rudolph, being special requires special circumstances to shine in. Imagine looking like your average guy, but you think yourself unique only because you prefer to write with the opposite hand. The fact that I feel alienated from fictional characters simply because we don't share common hand orientation is ridiculous. Yet it does.

It was a dark day for me when they made Link from the Legend of Zelda right handed. Nintendo was dead to me for making, what was to others, only a small change. Fellow lefties I've met in my time didn't care either. "It's only a game," they'd tell me, "So what?"

Despite the logical reasons I gave in those moments, the truth was: I related to Link. We share a resemblance, sure, but what's more is Link lived a life of adventure. He was a man of action, despite having little to say, he had much to do. I related to Link because of his diligence and desire to do good for all those he encountered. While I know now that he was written as nothing more than an empty vessel for the player to insert themselves into, I felt an unbelievable connection to the life he was leading.

Unlike most my age, the original NES Legend of Zelda was the first game I had ever really played. My father and his best friend bought it back in college. By the time I was old enough to play the Super Nintendo was out, yet I happily played away my days on that old NES. I had killed the original Zelda cartridge in a bathtub incident, leaving me with Zelda 2 as my only option if I was to keep playing in Hyrule. So naturally I played Duck Hunt instead.

That sense of adventure never left me. It wasn't long before I was all over the neighborhood and into yards and fenced areas that were off limits. Anything is permittable if you don't get caught. So I became skilled at being unseen. I didn't want any trouble, so it was best to simply pass through. Leave no marks, take not a thing. The world can be a very beautiful thing if you're just willing to look.

But just seeing places is basic tourism. Leaving no marks also removes any sense of accomplishment. What have I really done if there's no evidence? And even worse so, that's not a job one can make a living off of.

After deep thought, I concluded that what I needed was experience. Much like singling out brown potatoes, if I never tried them, how could I know that I didn't like them?

Sadly, such wisdom didn't come to me well after I had dropped out of college after a miserable year and a half. I've never liked school. Hell, my idea was to enter the work force after high school on the grounds that school work was bullshit. But my mother convinced me to try, and I still failed all my classes on account of throwing away my homework. Why the hell am I taking work home if I'm paying so much to learn in a class setting?

I was always told that my only job growing up was school work. Yet my parents never brought work home. Work was at the job, so how is it fair that I'm doing more work well after I've left what was supposed to be my job? I wasn't even getting paid for my work. So what was the point of earning some arbitrary letter for filling out redundant worksheets that I was already doing in class?

Was this what I should expect from life? Nonsense questions on standard printing paper with no imaginative design or real-life practicality to it? It blew my mind to find out I had been picking all of my classes in school, but because of how the question of phrased I took general electives just so people would leave me alone about it.

I felt like I was wasting my time because it was true. But I have to wonder, if I was to do it all again, what would I pick different? How could I have been more invested in my life when I wanted nothing to do with the society I was living in? The fact of the matter is that I wasn't living life. I have no idea, and even worse was finding that neither did my parents.

My entire upbringing weighed on the hands of two social outcasts with no idea how to raise children or interact with the very society they were living in. Considering the two were practically total opposites, it's no surprise that they got divorced when I turned 4. Mind you, I have an older sister. She is not mentally right. And I'm beginning to see where the problem stems from.

All my life I've been alienating myself from society because I've never experienced how to properly mingle or socialize. The first time my father ever rode a rollercoaster was when I was a sophomore in high school, and the best I could talk him into was a small carnival ride. He has the same friends group he had since high school. They talk about the same things, do the same stuff, and are generally unmoving.

Now, everyone has A.D.D. to some degree. Personally, I think it's the part of our brains that are constantly active, like motor functions. But it's better to argue that Attention Deficit is the part of our brains that need stimuli. Something that engages and motivates who we are as people. When you have a deficit, that length of interest is cut practically in half. If it doesn't get you thinking, you move on to the next activity. Considering the laws of diminishing return, doing the same thing everyday is fucking purgatory.

Long story short, my Dad is basic.

My mother on the other hand is a traumatized chaotic mess that's so self absorbed in her own personal hell that I'm begining to wonder if my habit of analyzing people stems from actively working over justifying her many inane choices over just the course of my lifetime. Fucking hell the run-on sentence that just happened.

My mother has never been boring. She's incredibly dramatic, quick to emotional response, and in most cases socially- has no idea what to do. I've never seen another human being so incompetent over every social situation. She claims that, "Her mind simply moves too quickly," but in reality, she only listens to respond. In her life time, my mother has developed the social behavior of a lawyer. Everything is a debate, every since is said in the interest of establishing her knowledge.

But she couldn't stop and tell you what the purpose of the conversation was for.

So here I am. Having spent my entire life on just trying to understand the people who raised me, that I can learn more about another person than I do myself.

I find people fascinating only in the sense of how much of a mess they are. But I'm now stuck with an answer that brings no solutions. After all, you cannot help those that do not seek help first.

I wish to understand me, but I lack experience and cannot see myself without a mirror. I desire to be understood, yet fear there is little to understand about me. Or worse, will be unaccepting of what I will be told.

I willingly isolate myself in crowds despite my desires to be included. I want to be the center of attention, but feel as though that's narcissistic and something I'm incapable of fulfilling. I seek to inspire and be inspired, yet by what I cannot say. To what interests me, I fear is limited.

I'm trapped in my mind with idea after idea. But to what end do I think of these things? My obsession with super powers began with the shows I watched on Saturday morning. My power fantasy to help people and do kind to the world through might quickly found it's wall.

Power Rangers were a beautiful combination of style and power. They were masterful in their execution and I was dazzled by their performance. When I was old enough to realize that it was nothing more than a show, I met my first round with denial.

Power Rangers was fake, but maybe I could make it real some day? Perhaps I was special enough that the universe would pick me to become the first real power ranger!

Life went on as normal. No monster attacks, no strange alien devices found their way into my possession, I didn't even have the decency to come visit from the future. Life was normal.

Years continued on, I wanted to do good, but it was only ever the small things. A kind word, leading a helping hand, it wasn't glorious or with flair. And I'm starting to wonder if I could have made it that way.

I wasn't ever socially normal, so who would have cared if I was that weird kid that made up his own catchphrase and tried to make doing the right thing fun and interesting?

But I don't know if I ever did anything, or if it was this morally ambiguous "right". I was a selfish kid who only ever focused on unrealistic things. If my friends had problems, I'd do my best to be there for them. However, I honestly can't say that I knew what was best for them. I remember being vented to along and giving what insight I could, a lot of the time it was just stupid stuff that needed to look at the bigger picture.

My mother tends to say, "you've always been good at looking at things from a different perspective. Seeing things from an unbiased view." But does that perspective have any real meaning coming from someone who's entirely self-focused? Every friend I had growing up I'm no longer in contact with. The longest I had interest in a group was 5 years. Sometimes I'd just stop coming around, other times it was a huge fall out.

Considering they were all socially outcast people, I'm not surprised that things are as they are. But that doesn't stop this deep gut desire to have a reliable friends group.

Which brings me to my next emotional conflict. I don't care. I find very little meaning in anything that I can't be an active member in. I've done a great deal of work to suppress the urge to speak during medium focused activities. Movies, panels, games, if there can be commentary, I instinctively have something to say. After all, my brain is constantly rolling over subjects, mulling things over, and forming conclusion based on what's present/relatable/funny.

I want to be understood, so it makes sense that I would want to be heard first. It makes me feel like I'm a part of things when I can input my insights. Be engaged in the situation. I'm sick of feeling like I can't interact in my own story for fear of stepping on toes or upsetting someone.

I mean, fuck those guys anyway. They're usually never brave enough to confront you over it in the first place. So why should I let such minor people be the major in my life?

Although, if I can't be considerate, how will I make friends? It's just one step forward, two steps back. Am I getting in my own way to find what I want? Do I fear making mistakes so much that I'd rather do nothing at all than take a chance?

Certainly. I'm reminded of my first real crush. I met her at the new church my Mother started going to freshman year. I was deeply depressed at this time, so many of my actions were dictated by fear of failure.

I can recall the first time we met. I had noticed her immediately when we first arrived. She was skinny as a rail with large dyed hair in an emo cut. Her bangs were blond, but the rest was dyed black.

Unsure of the new place, I took a seat in the lobby. That was when she approached me. She had sparkling blue eyes, a cute dimpled nose, and the most lovely lips I had ever seen. We exchanged names, and I foolishly told her my persona I had been indulging for sometime. Her name was Emma, and for no other reason than her beauty and her kindness, I secretly gave her my heart. She asked me to sit with her twice and in my naivete, I failed to see that perhaps she actually had interest in me. But since I feared failure, I barely spoke to her. And I think that gave her the wrong impression of my opinion of her.

2 years went by of this silent crush, she eventually left our church for another. By the time I had developed enough courage to talk to her, she would be in a relationship. Never having learned at that point that friendship was the true key to any relationship, I kept my distance. Waiting for my time to reach out to her. I was a fool for not learning that the right time was then and now.

I never got to truly know her. It's only in hindsight that I can truthfully admit my love for her was superficial. Only desiring the ideal of who I thought she was.

She's the only woman I ever purely desired. Even as a horned teenager, I kept the idea of her pure in my mind. I wanted to know her and hear her interests. I wanted to find her doing something she loved and join in to make fond memories together. But what I wanted was a specific situation that came into play instead of just taking the initiative and talking to her.

I have to believe that my fantasy ruined my chances in reality. If there was ever really a chance at all. Remember, I glorified this girl. I wasn't thinking of her as just another person with their own life and problems, she was a walking dream that came into my life and would make it better.

She could have seen me for the troubled teen I was and was only trying to help out of kindness. After all, she did approach me first many times just to lightly socialize. I'll never truly know what she thought of me. And all these years later of just dealing with the cringe of my own behavior, it's probably for the best that I never ask.

Every now and then I'll hear a bit of gossip from her family at the church. Bias opinions on her husband, her social views, how they're worried about her. But at the end of the day, it's not my problem. I'm not her hero. Hell, I was never actually her friend. Yeah, it reminds me of how cringy and narcissistic I was. But my best move forward is to let it be the past and work on my social skills without thinking beyond friendship.

Even though it's probably just my ideal version of her talking, I like to think she'd want that for me.

If the gossip about her is even slightly true, I wish the same benefit for her.

Geez, anyway, that's enough from me about the past. I know looking forward requires reflection, but I feel like I got a bit too personal there.

But at the same time, I did focus on the problematic foundation of my social skills. Followed by a time that such skills failed me at what felt like a crucial time in my life. I've done my best to be honest about the reality of the situation and even came to what I hope is a healthy conclusion to the experience going forward.

-H

#journal

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