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elysianslove · 3 years

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ay yo? lmao haiiiii any chance we can get some haikyuu boys and nicknames they'd call their s/o? a lil deprived of kageyama, so if possible can you pls include him?? i hope you're doing well :)

omg wait i remember seeing this in my inbox and planning on answering it but i ,,, i forgot :( im sorry :( but here it is lovely <3

HAIKYUU BOYS AND NICKNAMES

ANGEL ! —

akaashi; out of all his nicknames for you, this is his favorite!! he just thinks it’s very fitting for you, because you’re nothing short of ethereal for him. loves to say it when he’s first greeting you or as he kisses you gn or!!! when he says thank you :)

osamu; it slips sometimes with him!! not his go-to but it’s very familiar on his tongue when it comes to you, and that’s very endearing :,) just slips casually when he’s asking you a question like, “angel, do we need milk?”

daichi; omg he usually adds to it and it ends up being some cheesy stuff like “angel-face” and it makes you all flustered because wtf man :( and he always says it while laughing teasingly too ugh :(

suna; suna has the cheesiest nicknames for you and you cannot convince me otherwise, and you can never tell if it’s genuine or ironic but,,, it doesn’t matter. he sounds so sweet calling you “angel” so whatever :)

aran; this man. this man. he says it cause he knows it has you weak. he says it so lovingly, so sweetly, so casually, so suave and relaxed and his voice is so smooth and deep. who wouldn’t be swooning over him???

aone; AONE AONE PLS AONE PLEASE. he’d just think it’s such a sweet and kind and soft nickname and he likes the way it sounds when it’s whispered and he thinks nothing is more perfect than nicknaming you angel and he says it all the time like “ok, angel,” and “see you tomorrow, angel,” and, “love you, angel,” and it’s so quiet but so sweet hwbwjsjd

oikawa; he’s about to be in 90% of these cause he’ll be calling you anything but your name. is it because he wants to be annoying and to get on your nerves? or is it because he genuinely means it? the world will never know. you’re not even sure he himself does.

DOLL ! —

matsukawa; are you kidding me this is his. it’s HIS. he sounds so hot saying it and he looks so hot saying it and he’s so charming and it’s so like easy on his tongue. and he has a slight drawl to it too and he always says it with this aura of relaxation and ease it’s so hot. he just. he loves it. he loves you. you love it. the world is a better place.

atsumu; he thinks he’s way cooler than he is when he says it. you suppose he is pretty hot when he calls you doll but you’re not gonna tell him that!!! it’s not his go-to but you can catch it slipping off his tongue every once in a while.

kuroo; yesyesyes he loves it. only ever says it when he’s so up close and personal with you like cups your cheeks and hovers his lips against yours like, “heya, doll,” and he’s just so handsome. ugh.

kageyama; at the start of your relationship, kageyama called you by your name and nothing else!! but then he had like this talk w someone and they asked him what he calls you and he realized like,,, am i supposed to be doing it differently??? spent so long just searching up “cute nicknames for my s/o” and then he found “doll” and was like ok. i’ll try. and he tried!! and it stuck!! plus timeskip kags calling you doll??? that’s so hot bye

oikawa; this might be the only sincere nickname he has for you cause everything else is either to provoke you or to be cringy and annoying. and i’m sure you prefer doll over sweet cheeks and pumpkin pie and cinnamon whatever like you hungry tōru?? anyways he loves loves loves calling you doll cause he thinks it’s such a ? smooth and serene nickname? and his voice always gets deeper and quiet when he says it so!!!!

SUNSHINE ! —

hinata; please he is all the sunshine, but he always claims that you’re the true sun in his life. idk hinata would be so lame yet so cute like that :( and he always says it with such a big grin he’s so cute pls :(

tendō; he’s so cute he’s so cute he’s so cute !!!!! your contact name is “my sunshine” definitely definitely definitely. he is literally in love with you and wants the whole world to know it. he loves screaming it out for everyone to hear but also absolutely adores like hugging you from behind and whispering in your ear as he kisses your cheek, “hey, sunshine.” :(((((

kenma; kenma doesn’t wanna think too hard on the whole nicknames thing but he also does kind of sort of really wants to call you something special and the first thing that pops in his head is sunshine. first time he used it you were Shocked but he was acting nonchalant about it (read: freaking out on the inside) and you were like “ok guess im sunshine now.” and you are his sunshine to this day.

BABY/BABE ! —

atsumu; it’s easy and it’s endearing!! he personally loves being called babe but he loves hugging you close to him after a long day and just sighing, “hey, baby,” like. he loves it okay. he thinks it’s perfect cause it fits and cause it’s like kinda traditional yk!!

bokuto; he loves calling you baby cause he just cannot fathom that you’re his like he loves to always say it!!! and he loves how casual it is too like he can just call you that?? that’s so cool??

iwaizumi; again with the traditional but endearing and fitting. he doesn’t have to think too hard on it, but also it still means something and is more than just your name or a shorter version of it. also he sounds so hot calling you baby or babe idk i just know it.

hanamaki; king of “babe! babe :( babeeee! babee. babe come on! babe! baby :(” you’re 99% sure he’s just provoking you at this point. like say babe one more time. but he actually loves resorting to baby, especially when you’re upset and he wants to be as endearing and kind as he can to you.

daichi; very traditional too tbh. honestly when you two first started dating it was all he could think of saying without feeling awkward or feeling like he was trying too hard. later on when he started to feel more comfortable and more secure he got more creative.

nishinoya; he has been waiting for this moment his whole life. the moment he can actually call someone his baby or babe. it’s his favorite and possibly only nickname (aside calling you pretty or gorgeous or handsome) and it will always be.

MY LOVE ! —

akaashi; definitely definitely definitely calls you “my love” like i am 100% sure of this. akaashi is just so. he’s just so romantic but it’s also so unintentional? he says it because it feels natural and it feels right like you are his love after all, aren’t you?

sakusa; he’s not one for elaborate nicknames honestly, and he feels like “my love” is the right balance of sweet, kind, fitting, and subtle and serene. it’s not doing too much but it’s also doing more than enough yk? also people that look like they would wear a trench coat/blazer and a turtleneck beneath also look like they would use the term “my love” hence sakusa and akaashi.

tendō; i am telling you guys he is a simp. the loveliest simp ever. he says it so sweetly too like it genuinely makes your tummy twist and heart backflip when you hear him say it cause you can hear how genuine he is in his words oh my god.

kita; he just !!! he is just husband material okay!!! he is so endearing and he says it in the softest most genuine voice ever and it’s literally his go to because yes you are his love you’re his entire world!!! he loves you!! he wants you to know it every time he calls out to you!!

BUNNY/PUPPY ! —

bokuto; ARE YOU KIDDING ME. HE LOVES IT. he. loves it. he just finds it so cute and like. he loves the way he associates it with you now. prefers puppy over bunny but like. he loves both. he adores both.

matsukawa; calls you bunny all the time. not more than doll, but it’s definitely so common. he won’t use it around others not because it’s embarrassing but more because he kinda wants it to be just a thing between the two of you, honestly.

kenma; IT SLIPPED ONCE AND HE WAS LIKE. A DEER CAUGHT IN THE HEADLIGHTS. he calls you bunny!! sometimes, not always. when he wants something from you mostly. “pass me the water.” “no.” “bunny please :(” it works like magic every time.

oikawa; oh my god can you imagine??? he loves it so much because one, he thinks it’s such a cute nickname props to whoever decided let’s use pets as literal pet names, but also two, he thinks nothing describes you or fits you better. you are just his bunny :( his puppy :( he loves you :(

kageyama; timeskip kageyama calls you puppy. i have nothing more to say.

hinata; timeskip hinata calls you puppy. again, i shall say no more.

suna; hello !!! he loves to call you bunny and/or puppy. the feel of satisfaction he gets when he calls you that like ,,, he feels like you’re properly his yk? yk.

KITTEN ! —

kuroo; this one is for him and only him.

LOVELY ! — (maybe sweetheart too)

osamu; is there anything more beautiful than a tired osamu snuggling up to yoi and with a deep gravely voice saying, “missed you, lovely,” ? no there is not. it’s his favorite nickname for you, and he uses it all the time!! kisses your forehead as he leaves and tells you, “have a good day, lovely,” and comes back home and says, “hiya, lovely,” and tilts his head when you wanna talk to him about something like, “what’s up lovely?” cause you are his lovely, you’re his loveliest.

sugawara; i have no other explanation other than i can picture it perfectly. he thinks it’s the best choice of a pet name he’s ever chosen and thought of. and he loves the smile on your face whenever he says it, he thinks it’s the sweetest thing ever <3

BAE ! —

hanamaki; is it a joke? is it not? both.

okay im sure i missed so many boys but i can’t think of any rn bc it’s like. hella late :( but i wanted to put something out for you guys!! point is, if i didnt mention a boy and you want to know, send me an ask!! and if i didn’t mention a nickname and you want to know that too? send me an ask well!! ill be happy to answer it <3

love u all mwah <3

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poppy-metal · 3 years

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I am begging on my knees for more dilf!eren who fucks his sons gf

sneaking into his room at night while his son, your boyfriend, is asleep. he'd passed out long ago after you tried to kiss him, trying to spark a light of intimacy between the two of you again, but he'd just claimed he was tired and promptly rolled over. you lay beside him for awhile trying to resist the urge to go and seek eren out but you can't. its like hes a magnet, always pulling you to him.

you tip toe down the large expansive hallway (their whole house is something out of a movie) until you get to his room, quietly pushing the door open. you don't see him on his bed, squinting curiously until you hear the sound of a shower running. his shower. he must have gotten back late from a business meeting and wanted to shower off before bed. you have half a mind to return to his sons room, but you've already come this far, and he's already corrupted you enough to not be surprised by you seeking him out.

padding over to his bathroom you slip inside, your eyes immediately being drawn to his figure, distored on the other side of a glass paneled shower. even though his image on the other side is blurry, you can still make out his physique, long and tan and lean. you bite your lip, catching a glimpse of his cock too, hanging between his thick thighs as he tips his head back under the shower head.

he hasn't noticed you yet, and you take this moment to strip out of your nightdown, letting it drop and pool at your feet. stepping out of it, you walk to the shower, already slick between your legs as anticipated coils in your gut. you've never quite been this forward, yet, though he's always claiming your a sly fox.

his expression when you pull back the glass door separating you and step inside is worth it, nerves immediately dispersing. he doesn't even jump or have a startled reaction, merely tilting his head questioningly when the door slides open and brows immediately shooting up when he sees you in all your naked glory, entering the steam filled shower with him, shutting the door. you meet his eyes and dont cower at the intensity in them, you just stand there and let his eyes drink you in. he cards one hand through his slick hair, causing water droplets to fly, as he rakes you over unabashed in taking his time. you feel his stare at the peak of your nipples, gliding down to your stomach, to between your legs. his eyes spend quite a few seconds there before he's tracking his gaze back up your body to meet your lustful eyes.

a small smirk curls at his lips, "sneaking out of his room now, are we, little monster? who's taught you these manners, hm?"

you lower your lashes demurely, the way you know gets him hot. "I get all my debauchery from you, mr. jaeger. you've corrupted me"

rivulets of water sluce down his defined, tone chest, stomach, abs, and you want to trace their path with your tongue all the way down to that thick cock weighing between his legs. you can see it filling out now, and it makes your thighs clench, eyes coming back up in time to see his darken.

he licks his lips, "yeah," his tone is so gravely and low it sends a shiver through you, despite the steam curling around you both. "my sons sweet little girlfriend by day, who likes his daddys dick by night, huh. that you, baby?"

"Yes," you say honestly, eyes darting from his beautiful face to his beautiful cock. "im so bad for you, you did it to me"

"i did, huh?" he asks, but its not really a question. he knows hes fucked you up for anyone else, for his son. and it gets him harder then anything else. he grins, "guess i should take responsibility for what my bad influence has done to you" his eyes go between your legs again, "that pussy hungry for me?"

you nod.

"Nah, tell me what you snuck in here for with your words, pup"

"its hungry for you daddy- my pussy, needed you so bad"

"is that right?" his hand slides down his own chest, gripping his cock between his hand. leaning his ass back against the opposite wall of the shower, he gives it one long stroke, shaking it once. "daddy's dick got your head all mixed up, hm? made you forget who's cock you should really want"

you pant his name, watching like a dog in heat the way his hand glides over his thick cock, thumbing over the plush leaking tip. "greedy fucking girl" he hums, gripping his balls and letting out a loud moan.

he releases his cock, it bobs, hitting his chest. still leaning back, he crooks a finger at you, beckoning you. "come to daddy then, baby. gotta feed that little pussy before bed"

#ask #i died and ascended writing this gn #dilf!eren #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger imagine

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jangofctts · 3 years

Text

Bloodsport (din djarin x fem!reader) (part one)

rated: 18+

word count: 5.4k

warnings: smut, knife kink (no blood is drawn and consent is clearly given), blowjobs, vaginal fingering, din is sorta a virg duDE, alcohol, mentions of violence (reader punches someone in the face kwejrkejh), some gambling (sabaac) also please let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: oOf this is the first fic in sO LONG IM SO SORRY YALL KEHJRKEJH BUT ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU ENJOY

It’s been a couple months since Din’s stepped foot on the sandy nightmare of a planet. Went through hell and back and kriff—it feels like a lifetime ago. But the landscape before him hasn’t changed an inch, Mos Eisley same as always—busy with all sorts of scum and villainy he turns a blind eye to.

Din hopes it’s not the only thing that’s stayed the same—selfish as it is. Someone as volatile as you is bound to catalyze and shift, so is the nature of life. A lot can happen in a month or two and it’s ridiculous to think that you would ever push your life to the side and wait for him to return.

Turns out, you are here, still working as the resident mechanic. Though in the same elated breath of hearing that tidbit of news, it’s equally dissatisfying when he somehow misses you completely. You’re off planet, looking for power converters and electrical wiring—back in few days Peli promises. Maybe by the time his wild goose chase is over, back from the butt fuck middle of nowhere, he’ll get to see you—

Nothing goes as planned—naturally. All Din finds is a man playing dress up, an oversized lizard, planetary drama he’s forced to resolve and—to top it all off—an attempted stickup. Maker—he’s not even worried about anything save for the kid and your speeder. The very same one now scattered over the sand in miserable heaps.

At least some of it is salvageable…

By the time Din reaches the outskirts of Mos Eisley, the binary suns are smearing across the horizon like molten puddles of magma. Deep aches amass in his shoulders and back from the weight of the speeder parts, his gear, and the second pair of armor. Maker—it feels like his arms are going to be ripped off.

The baby babbles something incomprehensible.

“Almost there, kid,” Din responds, sparing a quick glance down the baby. “How does soup sound?”

Instead of trudging back to the hangar, Din wanders to the cantina. Call it a hunch or just you and your aunt’s tendency to lurk around the premises, he’s certain he’s going to find one of you here.

Din is right.

The moment he steps inside, he spots your mess of hair, the low solar lights illuminating the rich colors with a soft orange. The baby coos and blinks up at Din, his tiny clawed finger gesturing in your direction.

Din hums. “Good job—you found her.”

The child’s little teeth peek out, pleased with his discovery. Din steps into the doorway, down the carven stairs and over to your table. A older man—a ship rigger by the looks of his uniform—sits across from you, a game of Sabaac spread across the table between you. You’re winning.

“Hello, Shiny.” You greet, dipping your chin in his direction. “Your armor is looking a tad ripe.”

It’s true. The layer of slime coating his armor had baked and crusted under the suns—probably doesn’t smell too good either…

“I killed a Krayt dragon.” Din states it with a twinge of smug satisfaction despite knowing how little something like that would mean to you. He could conquer three dozen planets and shower you in all the precious metals in the world and you’d still turn your nose up at everything.

“And I curb stomped a centipede today—you aren’t special.” Your eyes never leave the set of worn cards you hold between your fingers, acutely ignoring him like you would an overly enthusiastic puppy. You inhale and scrape your right thumbnail along the edge of the hexagonal cardstock—it’s a subtle tell, one Din would more than likely miss if he were the unlucky bastard brave enough to sit at the other end of the table.

“You playin’ or what?” Your opponent gripes. He scratches his unkempt salt and pepper stubble and quirks a furry brow.

You lift your chin in scorned defiance and lay your hand down—full Sabaac. The man hisses through his crooked, clenched teeth and utters a curse as he shoves his winnings towards your end of the table.

“Peli promised me information.” Din pushes, hearing the kid coo in curiosity as you begin shuffling the cards with practiced flare. “About others like me.”

“Do I look like my aunt to you?” You grumble. It’s the first time your eyes leave the perimeter of the game to look at him. They settle on the kid first with a guarded version of compassion, then leap to the faded green armor clipped to the heavy luggage, and then his visor. Your lip twitches at the green slime still coating the beskar. “I’m assuming my speeder didn’t make it.”

“A technical difficulty.”

You roll your eyes and snort, dealing out the cards then setting the stack in the middle. “Right…”

The background ambiance of the bar and the quiet rasp of cards fill the brief lull in conversation. Any other rational person would take the blaring hint to leave, but Din is just as stubborn as you are.

“I don’t remember where the hangar is,” Din lies, cocking his head to the side in mock innocence, “could you show me?”

The tip of your tongue peaks out of the corner of your mouth. The unconscious tic is not one of irritation—not yet. Though before you’re able to respond, your opponent beats you to it.

“Yeah—I know where it is. It’s between fuck off and take a hike.”

Din turns his head, the cool, even tone of his words sharper than shrapnel as he address the man. “I was speaking to her.”

This is funny to you Din realizes—one of the tiny mysteries of your entirety clicking into the place of the puzzle map he’s conjured for you.

“Well, I don’t have the time of day for cowards who wear shiny buckets over their head.” The man gripes into his drink, dark eyes flicking over to Din as he sizes him up. “What’s a Mandalorian doing out here anyway? Thought your planet exploded or something.”

The man’s ignorance irks him—sure. How could it not? But with years of harsh words and jabs at the foundation of Din’s very being, he’s learned to adapt. It’ll always sting no matter how many layers of beskar he wears but you on the other hand…

Your eyes spark, molten and bright like the last solar flare on the surface of a decaying star. Each encounter Din’s had with you, he’s bared witness to the deep well of your anger that fuels your being like the auto-mechanical heart of a droid. He’s felt the bite of your rage firsthand, but this anger—this is the tragedy of the delicate mayfly wings trapped between the black teeth of misfortune—the story of the boy who rammed a spear into the flank of an ancient beast that bites before it barks and gnashes its yellowed teeth in warning.

Din’s hand inches towards his blaster. He’s not willing to weigh the safety of the kid against your rash decisions, despite it being on his behalf.

Though, just as quick as it appears, it recedes like the cool drawback of a tumultuous ocean. Din’s arm relaxes at his side as you release a puff of air.

Your scuffed up fingers, stained with years of engine grease, scars and dirt, curl around your half finished drink. You stand, lay your cards face down onto the table and flash the stranger a feral grin.

Without a word, you toss your drink directly into the man’s unsuspecting eyes. In another breath, the pointed edges of your knuckles fly forward and hook beneath the point of his chin with a meaty thunk. The man’s head whips backwards and connects with the gravely wall—

Out like a light.

Jaw clenched tight, you shake out your bleeding knuckles and gather up the strewn credits over the table. You shove them into the pockets of your jacket and side eye Din. “Restitutions for damages,” you mutter.

The other patrons keep their eyes to themselves as the three of you hurry out the door. Only an apathetic glance from the bar tender serves as proof that something did, in fact, occur. No one wants to dirty their nose sniffing about where they shouldn’t be when they have their own business to safeguard.

The crisp night air rustles the stray strands of hair that escape from your ponytail. Ghostly moonlight carves the shape of your cheeks into an almost ethereal sight—one of those deep space creatures with pointy teeth and hellfire for eyes. Stuff of legends you’d never think to look in a dingy bar for.

But he knows—Din knows that cool mask is just a front from what you hide. It is a hungry ghost that hounds your thin stretched shadow—what ifs and the glories of war you never really escaped. You forget that you are flesh and blood and ghosts are only air and echoes, nothing more.

Din is sharp edged steel. A stray fragment of a shattered mirror, the lacerated reflection of a nameless purpose and a faceless existence. He’s torn edges and cracked glass but his heart beats within his chest with the blood of a thousand suns. Two souls under the umbrella of the word damaged but entirely different in nature.

“No one—“ you growl, your voice a steady and lethal timbre that terrifies a part of Din’s unconsciousness, “—speaks that way to my friends.”

Touching.

“Don’t look at me like that, Creature,” you huff, staring down at the child who gurgles in return. “He deserved it—“

The reunion certainly wasn’t the one Din imagined, though it’s a relief to find that there’s no roughened edge like sandpaper over skin wedged between you. Picked up right where you left off—no questions asked and no inglorious retelling of how Din nearly died on the floor of a shitty cantina. There’s not a doubt in his mind that you'd laugh at him for it—it is sorta funny…

The rest of the evening is spent walking back to the hangar, arguing over the fact that yes Din should take the couch instead of that miserable little hovel he calls a bed, and spend the night. He’d have to find some other mechanic to work through the night if he wanted to leave in the morning, because you certainly did not want to volunteer for that. And so—Din reluctantly takes the couch and agrees to let you tackle the monstrosity of fixing up his ship for tomorrow.

He has to admit…the couch is a bit smaller than the length of his body, but it’s comfortable…maybe he’d buy a better blanket while he was here. As a treat.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

You purse your lips and whistle. “I swear each time I see it, it gets worse. Y’know, I know a couple guys selling—“

“Can you fix it?”

You fold your arms over your chest and roll your eyes.“Yeah I can fix it, jeez—no need to get your undies in a twist.”

You try not to take offense, because hey—you’re offering him the info on the good deals on new ships (and at this point anything would be better than this old rust bucket). But if Din doesn’t want anything to do with that, then whatever. His loss.

When you wander onto the ship, toolbox in hand, the Mandalorian tags along. Unsure if he doesn’t trust you with his things or just wants to hang out, it blankets the space with an air of uncertainty. Turns out it was neither of those guesses. All he does is throw open his stash of weapons, collect his pile of vibroknives, and set them on a table to polish and sharpen.

Makes sense, you suppose. Everything has to be as shiny as his armor.

You drop to your knees near the closest wiring panel you find. You wrench open the paneling and frown at the disarray of sparking wires and tangled cords. You organized these perfectly last time he was here. “Who the fuck junked up my rigging?”

Mando sits at the little table tucked away in the corner, brooding over his cache of weapons. He shrugs. “Could’ve come loose when I landed.”

You roll your eyes at his half assed excuse and mutter a foul string of curses under your breath that’d make even Peli wince. It’s fine. It’s cool—no biggie. You can sort through this in a couple hours, maybe three.

But of course rarely anything goes as planned. As time ticks away, arms deep in wires older than the kriffing Clone Wars, the distractions begin. The scrape of metal on durasteel makes the hair rise into little pricks all up your arms—you shoot a glare over your shoulder. Din tilts his head, your kneeling self reflecting within the ever dark visor, features scrunched into an obvious tell of annoyance. Huffing, you bury your head back into your task at hand.

The second distraction arrives in the form of a quiet hum of curiosity originating from the Mandalorian. Out of the corner of your eye you see him bring a vibroblade up to his visor, inspecting the notch in the blade that disrupts the electrical current that flows through the weapon. Din then rubs his thumb over the handle of the vibroblade in a slow, sensual circle. You lick your lips and tear your eyes away. That shouldn’t be hot.

You furrow your brows and tear apart another wire, but the metallic tap, tap, tap of Din bouncing the tip of a different blade over the table is bothersome. You swing your head to your left, mouth parting to snap at him, but his hand—sans glove—brings you to a halting stop.

It’s alluring, the way his long, weathered fingers twirl the knife with practiced ease—like silk through water and followed by the low hum of electricity meant to slice through flesh. Din tosses it in the air, watching it spin three rotations then catches it by the handle. Your lips purse when his visor meets your eyes. He spins it between his fingers.

“Am I bothering you?”

Fucker.

You scowl. “It’s fine.”

The soft rasp of his thumb sliding along the flat of the blade entices the eye and damnit—he’s doing this on purpose.

“Doesn’t seem fine,” he hums.

“Well, it is.” You retort hotly. You snatch up your pliers and imagine you’re pulling his teeth out in place of the crooked paneling. “I’m currently thriving in my element.”

Din hums, the sound buzzing with grainy distortion. “Do you want a closer look?”

You chew your bottom lip. He’s playing with an open flame and you with volatile jet fuel.

“I don’t know, seems kinda lame from here.” You scoff, busying yourself by pinching and twisting another set of frayed wires between your fingertips. “A toothpick if anything.”

Din snorts behind you. The deadly whisper of beskar against the durasteel tabletop makes the hair on the back of your neck prick into points. You tense as heavy boots shuffle along the floor, the near silent rustle of armor tinkling behind you as Din steps closer. You’re slow to stand, even though the presence of the Mandalorian is no less than overbearing. You wipe your grimy hands onto a spare rag, continuing to face the paneling. You then turn, a coy smile threatening to break across your face.

Stars Din is broad—and close enough you swear you’re able to see the perspiration of your breath fog the beskar plating. Your eyes follow the seams of the cuirass, across the leather bandolier and up to his helmet that’s fixed in an impassive glare of tempered steel. Your back bumps into the wall as Din takes another step forward, boxing you in. To escape you’d need to duck under his arm and yet…you refuse to move.

Your breath catches as he languidly lifts his hand and taps the flat side of the vibroblade over your collarbone. The sharpened point tickles up the column of your throat, a crackle of nerves and your pounding pulse following in its wake. Din turns the blade to flat edge and pushes into the space right below your jaw—you squirm when he chuckles, the sound low and deep.

“You like this…”

Din grunts as your hand reaches between his legs, squeezing the growing hardness there. “So do you.”

Din circles his hand around your wrist with his free palm. Moons above his hands are warm. He murmurs your name—you shiver. “Tell me you want this—want me.”

A blush, hotter than the surface of Tatooine in the midday sun, rushes up your neck and pools into the apples of your cheeks. Maker you want him. With a shuddering sigh you nod—braving the scathing shrapnel of vulnerability. “I need you, Din—please.”

A low chuckle rumbles through Din’s chest. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard you say please before.”

Din drops his hold on your wrist as you roll your eyes. “Shut up, Bucket Head.”

The Mandalorian snorts and dips his head—gesturing towards the blade still lightly pressed against the base of your throat. “This ok too, Skitter?”

You flash him a wolfish grin. “Gonna fuck me with it?”

Din swears under his breath, crowding his body closer to yours. You hear his strained sigh as he dips his head closer, the beskar a chilly whisper against your cheek. “You’re depraved…take off your pants.”

You smirk, tear off your belt and shimmy out of your pants and underwear, bottom half now bare. His visor dips, entranced.

Your heart leaps into your throat, your pulse roaring in your ears as he settles one of his bare hands over the swell of your hip while the other trails the blunt edge of the handle from your clothes collarbone, and down your belly. From your mid thigh he skates the handle up your bare thigh and then rests it over the crack of your thigh. Heat flushes through your entire body, a stark contrast to the cool metal of the handle. A shiver races down each vertebrae when he drags it over the swell of your cunt and then carefully pressing it against your clit. You gasp and arch into the light touch, your thighs involuntarily jerking as he increases the pressure. It’s cold, rigid and filthy. Who knows where that knife has been—how many lives it’s taken or severed through muscle and skin.

You don’t find it in you to care all that much.

He trades his hold on your hip to slide his hand into your shirt, palming and kneading your breast through your bra as you roll and whine against his fingers. The tight circles he's drawing over your clit burns through your abdomen, drags you closer to the precipice that you’re all ready so close to. Fuck—it’s been so long since you’ve indulged in this sort of pleasure.You whine his name as wicked heat licking up your body and spreading to each limb. You arch into him, the handle of his knife slipping through your folds as arousal drips from your cunt.

Your groan as you tilt your hips into the handle, craving any lick of pleasure he’ll give. Your breath hitches as Din pushes the hilt closer to your throwing entrance, murmuring praise as he sinks the first couple inches inside of you. It’s cold—the knobby feel of the handle not too much thicker than one or two of your fingers combines. You huff and grab at his cowl, the warmth of his hand grazing your pussy each time he rocks his wrist forward.

“You’re so quiet,” Din goads, pulling the handle free from your aching center. “You usually have plenty to say.”

You shoot Din a glare, tongue weighed down by arousal to come up with a god retort. You lean your head back against the wall of the Crest and with a chuckle, Din’s hand leaves your shirt to pull you against his chest, the vocoder rumbling against your ear. The blade clatters to the floor and instead brings his calloused fingertips to your cunt. He softly rolls your swollen clit between his forefinger and thumb, delighting in the way you shake. “Be a good little thing and cum for me.”

Shit, you didn’t think it’d be that easy. Your body seizes as white hot heat ripples through your core. Stars, brighter than a dying sun burst behind your eyes, a high pitched cry filtering past your lips as shake and fall apart in his arms, your cunt clenching tight around the thick fingers he slips inside of you.

You whine as he pulls out, little aftershocks of pleasure wracking through your body in wake of your euphoric high. You groan as he lifts your head and pushes his digits, coated in your juices into your mouth. You lick them clean, tasting the tang of your own arousal and the salt on his skin. “Fuck—that was good.”

You can only imagine that Din rolls his eyes. He takes a step back but before he can escape—

You drop to your knees, a wicked smile curling over your lips. The muscles in his thighs jump as your palms smooth over the outsides of them, then up to his narrow hips, your thumbs lightly massaging the ligaments that protects the fragile joints. Din sucks in a sharp breath when your fingertips hook around his trousers.

“What are you doing?” Din asks, brushing a thumb over your jaw.

You pause and glance up at him. You quirk a brow. “Was gonna suck you off, but if you have something else in mind…“ He hisses and tips his head back, flashing the underside of his chin as your hand leaves his hip to cup the heavy bulge tenting in his trousers.

“Maker—“ He looks off to the side, inhales a choppy breath and then snaps his head back. “You’d…you’d do that?”

You nod and flash him an encouraging half grin. “Wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to.”

Din mumbles an incoherent string of words under his breath and shifts his weight onto his right leg. His fingers touch your cheek again then tuck a loose hair behind your ear. “But—“

Moons above this man is straight out of some kind of fucking fairytale—arguing about getting his dick sucked—or not.

Whatever.

“Din…” His breath hitches at the sound of his name. “I’m asking you kindly to fuck my mouth—it’s cool if you don’t wanna, but my knees already kriffing hurt and—“

He cuts you off with a hasty nod. “Yes—stars, please.”

Fuck yeah.

You smile and slide your eyes past Din’s legs to the cargo crate shoved up against the wall. “You should sit—easier that way.”

He nods and shuffles over, lightly perching himself on the edge and ready to flee at the barest hint of well—anything.

Din’s knee jumps when you place your palm over it. You assume his nerves are from the nature of his occupation—trouble always strikes when you least expect it—and what better time would that be when his pants are around his ankles. “Relax—I’m not gonna bite—maybe.”

He makes a wary sound low in his throat as your fingertips hook into the waistband of his trousers and pull. Din lifts up as you tug the fabric further down his legs, tan skin and solid muscle following in its wake. Fuck…

You swallow, mouth feeling quite dry when your eyes drift between his legs. Din is thick, a rosy brown color, flushed at the tip and curling towards his bellybutton. Beads of liquid shine at the tip, dribbling down the underside and pooling into the dark patch of curls at the base. Din’s fingers hook over the side of the crate, squirming under the weight of your stare.

Yeah—that’s gonna leave your jaw aching.

You hear his breath hitch, magnified by the crackle of the vocoder as your lips descend over a silvery scar on the inside of his right knee. You pepper a trail of wet kisses and light nips up his thighs, and by the time you reach the crease of his leg, his hips mindlessly rock with need.

The second the wet warmth of your tongue brushes over the tip of his cock, his hips jolt off the crate, a load groan echoing through the empty ship. It’s like striking a match to an open line of kerosene—devouring and explosive that’ll leave your delicate skin singed. You’re not nervous playing with fire if this barest scrap of wild heat is anything like burning to a crisp.

Emboldened by his initial reaction, you wrap your hand around the base, pulsing and achingly hard beneath the velvety flesh. You flatten your tongue over the tip, lapping up the sticky liquid the slip the head of him into your mouth. His hands fly to your hair, tightening into fists as he throws his head back. The beskar scrapes over the durasteel with a sharp squeal, but you don’t find it in you to care about the abrasive sound—eardrums be damned.

“Fuck—kriffing hell—“ Din snarls, arching his hips to seek more of your warmth. “K-keep going.”

Your own rekindled arousal blazes hot in your core hearing his stuttered pleas. You pull away to catch your breath, feeling almost guilty for doing so at Din’s low whine of protest. He picks his head up, watching as you languidly jerk him off—entranced with the way your hand rolls over the leaking tip, back down to the base, then up again. You could keep him like this—tease until he cracks under the pressure and begs you for whatever iota of pleasure you want to give but—

You’re not that mean.

Wetting your lips with your tongue, you part your mouth and slide nearly half of his length into your mouth. Din mutters something garbled, his hips jolting as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head.

Din shifts, arching his back and stuttering out broken whispers of encouragement. Placing your hand over his thigh, you can feel his pulse thrumming beneath your fingertips, wild and alive—something real beneath all that heavy armor and unforgiving helmet.

“You—you look…” He grunts as you hum around around his cock, swallowing him down further. “Shit—you look so p-perfect like this.”

You groan and squeeze your thighs together, attempting to ignore the gnawing hunger snapping at your insides.

Rolling your tongue along the underside of his shaft, your fingers slide over what your mouth cant reach—squeezing and gently coaxing him towards his high. He seizes up tight—yet, just when you think you’ve got him skidding off that precarious edge—

His hand fists your hair at the base your neck and yanks you off his cock. He huffs, breathy little pants as he folds into himself like he’s been punched in the gut, his head rolling forward onto his shoulder. Din shivers as he scrambles for control, beginning to loose that slippery foothold he’s so intent on maintaining. His cock, flushed an angry red and still slick with your saliva, twitches and throbs for the release so cruelly wrenched away.

You let him catch his breath. The fingers tangled in your hair go lax and drop away to rest at his sides. You swallow, his previous skittishness suddenly clicking into place. “Din, are you…?” A virgin. Your question tapers off, unsure if it’ll embarrass and scare him off.

“No,” he answers—not in a sharp way like you’d hear with a bruised ego—just stating a fact. “Just not—not this. Never had someone—stars—“

Your teeth roll your bottom lip between them, forcing your face to remain neutral despite the stroke of pride blooming singing in your chest. You’re his first—lucky enough to make this the best goddamned oral he’ll ever have. Something he’ll remember for years.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask, praying to the Maker he’ll say no.

He shakes his head, sucking in another calming breath and unfurling himself. His fingers clench into fists then relax, crackling with pent up energy and unsure nerves as to where he should put them. You solve it by threading your fingers through his and placing them around you head.

Your lips quirk. “You’re allowed to cum in mouth—don’t worry about it.”

His cock twitches as a quiet moan fizzles through the modulator. “You su-sure?”

“Oh, yeah.”

With a smile you bring your mouth back to his cock, tongue swiping up the entire length of him. Din groans as the soft warmth of your mouth slips over the flushed tip of cock, his thick length twitching as you hollow out your cheeks and suck. You bob your head as you slowly work him in further because even like this, hardly halfway into your mouth, you feel your lips stretching a bit too much around him. You groan and part your mouth wider, letting him sink into the soft warmth of your throat. Din inhales, the sound shaky and unsure as his hips twitch with a few tentative thrusts.

You take it slow—lifting your mouth nearly all the up to the tip then back down to the base. Din rolls his hips, helping you ease into the gentle pace. Saliva drips down his cock and over your knuckles making an absolute mess you have zero intentions of cleaning up. It’s his ship after all. Din swears as his hips stutter, your hand squeeing around him, trying to push him off that edge he so deserves. Din gasps your name, the pitch of his words knocking up to a lighter, more airy tone, warmer than melted butter.

“Ca-can’t believe, it—ah—it fits.” He groans with astonished reverence. You preen under his praise.

You swallow around him and grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you let him rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans.

You can feel is cock twitching over you tongue—he’s close—and when your eyes roll up to meet the darkened visor, he’s gone. He shouts your name and knots his fists around your hair as he spirals of that edge. You nearly gag from the force of his release hitting the back of your throat—cock throbbing and jerking in your mouth like he’s been denying himself release for months. His moans, fragile and gasping, filling the quiet space as his hips grind his cock deeper down your throat, his hands threaded into your hair acting as an anchor—the sole tether he has to the waking world.

Din’s grip relents as the last few catastrophic waves tear through his body. He doesn’t move his hands, just lets them rest over your skull as his chest heaves for precious air, a harsh crackle through the vocoder. You pull his still twitching cock halfway out, dragging the tip of your tongue below the frenulum while one of your hands circles the base of his length. Maker—he’s still going—

Last little dribbles of his cum spurt onto your tongue and drip over your knuckles still securely wrapped around him. His legs and lower abdomen flex when your hand falls lower to carefully knead at his balls, milking out his pleasure for all its worth. You let his softening cock slip from your mouth when he swears and mumbles your name.

When you rest your back against the wall, he slips himself back into his trousers and joins you. You take a risk and rest your head over the chilly beskar pauldron. You’d never call this love—the word is much too harsh for this delicate string of seconds. Love means giving pieces of yourself to others like martyrs give their hearts to the sky—or risk fragile skin against the rays of an unforgiving sun. Broken ribs and clenched fists, immensity beyond comprehension—

“You should come with us,” he says with a hesitant mumble. Love is formidable—but you know that somehow, here, pressed against Din’s side, that this is right. In a golden way, a honeyed way, a path that tastes of blood, freedom and blaster smoke that will leave your lungs stained with blackened soot. Cowardice has long made a home inside of your soul, and he’s offering you a chance to shake off the layer of frost clinging to your bones and step into the gentle merciful dawn.

“Yeah—alright, Din. I will.”

tags (only tagging some moots for now bc i have no clue what’s going on in this fandom anymore dbdndn): @goldafterglow @jango-fettish @djxrxn @blsmjoon @spookoofins @krissology @steeeeeeeviebb @teaofpeach @comphersjost @gummiishark @delusionsxfgrandeur @pettyprocrastination @huliabitch

#well it aint that good but it honest work wkerkjehr #my writing #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian #fanfic #star wars #sw #star wars fanfiction #jangofctts

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corpsette · 3 years

Text

𝑺𝑰𝑴𝑷

pairing → sykkuno x fem! reader

words → 837

a/n → this is so fluffy I- lower case intended! also, this is my first fanfic legit ever so ill probably have millions of mistakes in this lmao... n e ways, enjoy~

it was just supposed to be another boring crewmate round. a round where rae was most likely the imposter, and was also going to most likely kill you first because you were always alone... until sykkuno showed up.

"hey! Y/N! want to come stand on a vent with me?" sykkuno asked, making a goofy smile appear on your face. out of everyone- ludwig, sean, and corpse included- you were the biggest simp for sykkuno, and it wasn't just something you did for the cameras.

"of course!" you replied, wiggling your character in front of him. as you and sykkuno slowly inched towards the vent, you heard a voice passing by.

"hey! where's sykkuno?? syKKUNO!! I wanna simp for him before Y/N can!!" you heard sean addressing his chat, his voice slowly fading away. “imposter or not! I’m coming, sykkuno!!”

sean didn’t see you two, though, he passed right by you. the only reason you knew he was there was because of proximity chat.

"right here, Y/N. I have something to tell you." sykkuno said, walking onto a vent. you followed closely behind and stood on top of him.

"what is it, sykkuno?" you asked, still smiling like a giddy school girl. then again, you were always like this around sykkuno. he was just too cute to resist.

"you've been getting killed first a lot. I'm gonna protect you!" sykkuno said, making you smile even more than what you thought was humanly possible.

"and what if we get double killed?" you asked, wiggling on top of the vent. you already thought sykkuno was the imposter, after all he only really got people to stand on the vent when he was imposter, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

"oh, trust me, we won't-" he was cut off by tina's screaming as she inched closer.

"Y/N! SYKKUNO! RAE IS THE IMPOSTER!" tina shrieked, wiggling frantically. “HELP ME! SHES GONNA KILL ME! EEEK!”

"nooo!! I saw tina vent!!" rae stepped in shortly after. "oh, hey sykkuno, are you ready?" rae walked on top of tina, who immediately tried to run away.

"oh no, rae, we can't-" he was cut off once again by rae attempting to do a double kill by killing tina. "OH MY GOD RAE-" sykkuno quickly covered his mouth as he stared at his screen.

you stood still in total shock as rae started wiggling. "KILL HER!!" rae said, laughing sadistically. it was now obvious who the two imposters were.

"go on, sykkuno. you can do it." you said after a pause. "I wont mind." you smiled softly and stood there, still on the vent.

"r-really Y/N? you really mean it?" sykkuno asked, walking towards you. he hovered his mouse over the 'kill' button, but he didnt dare press it.

"yes, sykkuno. I'll be rooting for you from the grave, as always-" you were cut off by the kill animation, but it wasn't sykkuno's character who popped up on your screen.

"TIMES UP, LOVE BIRDS!!! IM HUNGRY FOR BLOOD! MUAHAHAHAH!!" rae said, laughing again as she walked away from the double kill she did all by herself.

sykkuno stood there in shock, staring at your dead body. "Y/N..." he whispered, covering his mouth as he reported the body.

"ITS RAE! SHES CHASING ME!" toast said, not waiting for sykkuno to speak. "HELP! HELP!"

"IM JUST TRYING TO SEE IF YOU'RE STILL ALIVE!!" rae replied, laughing once again. its surprising how much chaos she can cause in a matter of seconds. her kill cooldown wasn’t even over and she already had another victim.

"YES, RAE. IM ALIVE." toast yelled, before continuing. "can we vote her out, please? I dont feel safe. if you keep me alive, ill tell you who the other imposter is." toast didn’t have a clue who the other one was, but he just wanted rae out.

"OH PLEASE! I WOULDNT HURT A FLY!" rae said, laughing again and sounding like a crazy person.

"cap." ludwig stated, earning some 'oooo's from the lobby. "I have reasons to believe its rae."

"what are your reasons, lud?" asked sean.

"...reasons."

"GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME."

"wait," corpse said as sean voted. "what info do you have, sykkuno? which body did you report?"

"o-oh." sykkuno said, fixing his hair. "I reported both of the bodies. it was me, guys. im the imposter. can I please be with Y/N now?"

"awwww." rae said, slightly fangirling. "that's so sweet it makes me wish I could've killed you earlier so i didnt have to hear that."

“WH-WHAT!”

"SPEEDRUN!!" felix yelled, voting for sykkuno. the votes were pretty split. 3 skipped, 1 voted for toast, it was probably rae, 2 voted for rae, and 4 voted for sykkuno. with that, sykkuno was voted off and the meeting ended.

"hey, sykkuno."

"hey, Y/N."

"thanks."

"for what?"

"FOR LETTING ME DIE BY THE HANDS OF RAE! ALL I WANTED WAS FOR YOU TO 'CHOKE ME LIKE YOU HATE ME BUT YOU LOVE ME-'" you broke into song, using a deep voice to imitate corpse. "do you not love me, sykkuno?"

"WHA-WHAT?" sykkuno said, covering his mouth as he smiled. "of course! I do love you, Y/N!"

"you guys are too cute." tina said, giggling and floating around you both as she watched the scene unfold in front of her.

"o-oh."

"yeah, sykkuno is too cute."

"wh-what?"

"nothing."

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this-is-my-procrastination · 3 years

Note

hi honey! (●’◡’●)ﾉ could i request a oneshot with Dazai, and reader is just always sleepy? like if she sits still for longer than thirty minutes, she’ll be passed out? thank you!

pairing: dazai osamu x sleepy!reader

synopsis: sleepy y/n has trouble staying awake

request: hi honey! (●’◡’●)ﾉ could i request a oneshot with Dazai, and reader is just always sleepy? like if she sits still for longer than thirty minutes, she’ll be passed out? thank you!

a/n: omg im so sorry this literally took me 10 million years to finish!! i think i’ve rewritten this like more than four times at this point lmao but hopefully it turned out ok and you like it! as always, thank you so much for requesting ily <33

A pair of lips delicately brush your cheek. Your eyes flutter open, groggily blinking the sleep from your eyes as you slowly register the owner of the offending lips. To no one’s surprise, it’s Dazai’s smug face that beams back at you, grin softening as he teases, “Look who fell asleep again~ If you weren’t so cute, I might be offended y’know?” His playful pout causes you to giggle, your boyfriend already helping to make waking up so much less vexing than usual.

Retaliating to his teasing remarks, you attempt to ruffle his messy tuft of black hair but find that his head is sadly more than an arm’s length away, much to your dismay. Looking back down at your disheveled bedhead fondly, Dazai pulls you into his arms as you release a few indignant retorts. The movie you two were watching had been in its closing scenes, but when he looked towards you to ask your thoughts (and ask why you’d been so quiet after literally the first thirty minutes), he was met with your very cute, very endearing, very much asleep expression, eyes shut and mouth slightly ajar. Your head was adorably leaned against the crook of his neck, and he would prefer not to admit it, but he had spent more time than he realized just admiring your dozing features silently, appreciating and marveling at this human who made him feel so loved. Past Dazai would have scoffed at a serious romantic relationship that didn’t end in double suicide, but right now, the thought of not being able to spend peaceful moments like this with you was the most excruciating punishment he could possibly imagine. How could he imagine someone else when even just your sleeping face was so incredibly adorable to him?

Your freshly-awake ramblings brought him back to the present. Dazai lets his fingers drift and find its place loosely running down a stray strand of your hair, twirling it cheerfully as he listens to you continuing on.

You suddenly stop your rant, staring at him with an amused expression on your face before you gently prod his side, “What’re you so deep in thought about?” You pondered the possibilities, “Could you be thinking about what to eat? I’m pretty hungry too after that nice nap!”

“No, no,” Dazai dramatically denies your question, waving his hand dismissively, “Well - I’ll never say no to a snack, but I was actually mesmerized! You just look so cute when you’re sleepy~”

You playfully roll your eyes, nudging him with a teasing “uh-huh.”

“Is that why I can get away with falling asleep around you?” your smile is warm as you meet his eyes, and Dazai’s heart quickens just slightly, “I told you that you can wake me up since I sometimes fall asleep before I realize. I appreciate you always taking care of me though, Dazai. You’re a very good boyfriend for that~”

Your praise is music to Dazai’s ears as his lips quirk into a smirk, “Oh-ho, am I finally getting the appreciation I’ve been deserving? I’m glad you finally noticed!” Your boyfriend’s hand pats your head affectionately, and you laugh aloud as he plasters a quick sloppy kiss to your forehead.

You’re about to playfully call him out for his touchiness but your boyfriend’s chest immediately puffs out theatrically, “But don’t you worry! I’m self-sworn to protect my sleeping beauty for as long as I live - actually, even from the grave!”

Dazai’s sudden knightly attitude cracks you up as you swiftly duck out from under his hand. You grin widely at his antics before matching his energy with a statement fitting for a true princess: “oh, ya - uh! ok thanks buddy! so then, Sir Dazai, lead the way to the kitchen and let’s make a mid-movie - oh, never mind the movie’s over - a post-movie snack!”

Dazai’s cheers ring through your apartment as he eagerly yet still surprisingly delicately, always being careful to keep you unscathed and present by his side, grabs your hand and escorts you into the kitchen.

The plan was to make brownies. So, why is Dazai furiously beating a bowl of grainy “whipped cream” that he’d made using a combo of water and specifically granulated, not confectionary, sugar? Why is more brownie batter on cabinet doors than in the baking pan? Why is the salt tipped onto its side, spilling its entire contents into some kind of abstract shape on the countertop?

One reason: food fight. Maybe your abundant sleeping habits had finally caught up to you, but you had never felt as invigorated and actively mischievous as you had when you’d swiped some brownie batter onto your boyfriend’s face. It was worth it! You think. You thought. Dazai’s brown hues absolutely shined with mirth at your pathetic attempt of provoking him. You were prepared for him to laugh it off and call you adorable, maybe naive for playing with fire, but ultimately he would chuckle and move on. Except, that did not happen. Instead, he had immediately retaliated with an even bigger glop thrown into your hair, partly accidentally and partly to be a li’l gremlin, and oh boy, it just escalated from there.

The whipped cream Dazai had whipped up for “quick ammunition” was quickly used up - Dazai scooped it, and the heap had seemed to grow impossibly bigger with every additional spoonful. Currently, his smile was widening and creepily stretching ear-to-ear as his starry eyes zeroed in on your vulnerable form.

The ruthless battle continued for a while, but after finally agreeing to a truce, you both couldn’t help but stare at the resulting mess with equally blank stares.

“Mm... okgoodnightbabe! I’ll see you in the morning!” You almost trip over yourself as you flee, throwing a cursory glance at your incredulous boyfriend before giggling and rushing to close the bedroom door before he can follow. Dazai’s whining carries through the solid wood, but you playfully call back, “I’ll give you anything you want - just pleasee do the cleaning! And if it’s too much, come to bed and we can deal with it in the morning together, ok?”

You could clearly picture Dazai’s pout in your mind as the sound of his footsteps fades towards the kitchen. Smiling fondly, you quickly change into your pajamas and hop into your shared bed to wait for his return. However, listening to the distant clanging of bowls and whooshing of the tap water proved to be an effective lullaby, and you couldn’t help it as your eyes began to flutter and eventually stay closed.

By the time Dazai finishes cleaning, the dark night sky was starting to brighten and mix with the warm oranges and reds of sunrise. He quietly opens your bedroom door and is met, not really to his surprise, by your sleeping lump of a body. Dazai’s brows furrow slightly, but he quickly notices the open book laying by your form and realizes that you had been up waiting for him. He could also tell you by the blankets messily strewn around you - usually you preferred having them wrapped around you like a tight burrito.

At that, Dazai lightly chuckles, his heart warming at the thought. He takes his time putting on a fresh set of clothes and rolls his eyes as he ever-so-gently tucks the blankets over you. The bed shifts as he climbs in carefully, but Dazai quickly freezes as you start to mumble quietly. Your words are inaudible, even as Dazai strains his ears to hear any (possible) secrets that you could be spouting. Shifting restlessly, you roll around and suddenly shoot out your arm, making an interesting grabby motion. Dazai almost lets out a laugh as he wonders what in the world you could be looking for, but his eyes widen when you make contact with your boyfriend and immediately calm down, hand gripping his shirt loosely.

As your body relaxes, Dazai feels a wide smile creep up his face, adoring and almost grossly soft. And he lets it. He just can’t help himself - he leans in and places an affectionate kiss on your forehead, lingering there before pulling back and squeezing next to you under the covers. He shifts your arm into a more comfortable position, and as you unconsciously flip to face him, Dazai’s eyes soften into a sweet but intensely warm chocolate brown. If you had been awake to open your eyes, you would have witnessed a rare but genuine sight: your boyfriend’s peaceful expression illuminated by the quiet sunlight of dawn, his eyes deeply staring into yours with endless messages of comforting assurance and happiness, and his lips subtly quirking into a tenderly loving smile shared only for the two of you.

#bsd x reader #bsd x you #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai osamu x you #dazai x you #bsd x y/n #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #reader insert #dazai oneshot

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bard-twins · 2 years

Note

sooo i found this on twt and im curious about your opinion on it; https://twitter.com/windflowerlia/status/1478965838380249090?t=SlBMF-U5SbbmevNHaUnWeA&s=19

do you think its himmel, venti faking his death, or just a grave of a random character we still don't know of? 🤔

Link

I thought it would be the nameless bard at first but it would be weird to just instantly point out it’s venti/nb because bards are very common in teyvat.

You can actually talk to orpheus himself if you wanna know!

But for a short answer for your question: this is a different character but has a similar resemblance to venti

Ngl i would like to think that if nb was alive after the archon war, there’s a chance he would be the Anemo archon 🤭👀

Here’s one conversation with orpheus i snapped that caught my interest (also long theorizing under the cut)

What i would like to think of these seven children— or just byakoyakoku in general— is that they are somewhat similar to honkai’s “Previous Era” because byakuyakoku’s civilization has existed after Phanes created the human world from its shell— and maybe the celestia as well— then proceeded to annihilate the rest of the dragon sovereigns

Though this island nation has sunk when they were terrorized by the dragonheir. Phanes doesn’t heard their pleas, however, along the way, they are progressing with the help of Tokoyo (istaroth) by giving enough wisdom to Abrax (abarakusu) to create the hyperion.

This is where the seven sunchildren enter. The people of enkanomiya were power hungry and wants to rule over the place so they planned to create a religion where they would worship Helios as a god, and Abrax as the prophet who created the hyperion, and then the establishment of the leaders called Phaetons (sunchildren)

It was part of the elders’ plan to pick children as the leaders since they’re easily manipulated and are simply used as a scapegoat in case something wrong happens. So they can pretty much get away with anything. The elders knew that if they grow up and discovered they were manipulated by them, it’ll be over. So they once again planned by creating this special ritual where they would be brought up to the helios and burned to ashes.

The elders DO NOT want these sunchildren to get help or support from adults for them to become proper leader, hence the reason why the people “detest” them as clymene mentioned due to their unfit to rule the nation.

Abrax saw all of this and wants to stop them but the elders took this chance to use the children as a puppet letting them think that abrax was there to claim their position. He was then imprisoned and died.

Doesn’t this remind you of a certain deity?

Elders= celestia

Seven Sunchildren= seven archons

It seems like celestia has followed the footsteps of the elders and wants to continue this principle and custom. They really wanted to be the highest among the deities or gods

Do not question the heavens

Heaven is not to be challenged

Wisdom is concealed in stellar fragments

The God of Justice lives for the spectacle of the courtroom, seeking to judge all other gods. But even she knows not to make an enemy of the divine

Celestia is really watchful of the archons’, controlling and manipulating them. And they also get to decide who’ll be the next archon in their respective nation

Let me also add this analogy of the sunchildren being described as “unfit to rule the nation” to the archons of teyvat

Decarabian- tyrant

Ei/beelzebul- also a tyrant

Tsaritsa- lost her love for her people and became heartless

God of justice/focalor- perhaps always seeking to find the “mistakes” of the archons just to judge them however she please?

Venti- perhaps becoming too careless with these freedom ideal he has to the point mond has been in a danger twice (?) when he was asleep

I’m worried about venti because he knows celestia is dangerous and he’s becoming wary of them. Perhaps he already knows their origin and decided to keep it to himself? He does, after all, seen the fall of khaenri’ah.

Mondstadt in general is in grave danger sigh. There was this “Great Fire of Fall Equinox” where Mondstadt has a giant library. They all have sorts of books and perhaps also has “Before Sun and Moon” but was burned because it’s odd Enjou mentioned this before the quest ended.

It’s highly likely that enjou’s the one behind this fire incident.

Mondstadt has two khaenri’ahn characters, an elf who’s knowledgeable about the world of teyvat and decides to traverse in different worlds, Durin attacking mondstatd, and that one big ass statue he has in the plaza with the words “gateway to celestia”…

Oh venti you and your nation are fucking doomed and i hate where this would be going when we’re close to the ending

Sources for these theories:

Full Timeline of Enkanomiya

Great Fire of Fall Equinox

#genshin spoilers #elli.answers #chit-chatwith.anon #elliplays.genshin

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too-gay-for-marvel · 3 years

Text

nonessential

a/n: well lookie here, im still alive. AND on a second story. damn, this is considered a streak now

Word Count: 1194

Warnings: canon character death

Pairing: Tony x Natasha x Reader

When you were eight years old, an elderly man gave you a seed.

He had placed it in your hand and gently closed your fingers around it. “You’ll understand,” he had said with a kind smile before hobbling off on his way once again. You didn’t tell your mother when she brought back your ice cream, instead just putting it into your pocket.

After that day, the seed had stayed with you. The next day you had gotten the locket your brother had given you and put the seed inside. From then on, it stayed next to your heart. You didn’t know why you kept it with you or why it had become so important so quickly, but it had. Not a day went by where the seed was not on your person, and you liked it that way.

It had been with you when you had graduated high school and college, not top of your class but that didn’t matter. It was there when you got hired to be part of the HR department at Stark Industries. It was there in the left breast pocket of your shirt when you met the infamous Stark and Romanoff duo.

And it had been there when you had fallen for the couple.

It was simple, really. Much more simple than you had thought it would have been. They were so guarded, so separated from your reality. The two of them were like gods, always fighting, always winning. You had simply wanted to work; wanted to make something of yourself.

And you had fallen for them.

One passing glance turned into a simple smile, then a “hello,” then a “nice to meet you,” and it progressed from there. Progressed into something that you weren’t quite aware of until it was too late. The three of you talked business, then you went to lunch and talked business, then you just went to lunch. You listened to Tony talk about his mad science experiments, Nat talked about the Bartons.

Not once did you ever notice the look he would send your way when you were looking over his plans. Not once did you hear her voice get softer when she said your name. The gentle touches, the whispered words, the kisses on the cheek. Not until they brought you home did you ever, ever, consider more.

Because how could you when the two gods became oh so very human? For you?

You told them of your seed. Tony laughed, of course; made a joke about his seed. It was hard to understand how a seed, a single seed, could have so much of an impact on your life. Especially for them. They saved people for a living, made peoples’ lives easier, were heroes. And yet you had something, so insignificant, and it gave you hope? Gave you something to look forward to, to hold, to cherish?

There were times that you wanted to plant it. When you introduced them to your family, when you moved in with them, when they proposed. Every time they went on long missions, you would get a pot filled with soil and sit by the windowsill. When they come home, you thought, I’ll plant it. This time.

You never did.

But you found a time. The perfect time. Nine months ago to the day, in fact. A day written down in history. A day etched into your heart. Five years ago, someone, something, had destroyed life. Nat and Tony were gone, and before you could find out where they were, things had gone dark. It was like a dream, looping over and over, to the point you forgot it was a dream.

And then it stopped.

You opened your eyes to see you were still in the living room. There was dust everywhere. You tried to call Nat’s phone, then Tony’s. No answer. You gripped the locket, with the seed still inside, and fell to the floor. No answer was never a good thing.

There was no telling how many hours you spent on the floor, how many days. You hadn’t felt hungry, tired, nothing. The only thing you felt was cold. But how could you get up when you weren’t even sure if the two people you loved were okay?

Nat and Tony never called you back. They never came walking through the door, Tony never joked about your seed again, Nat never bossed you around about your sleeping schedule, they never called your parents or brother. They never did anything again.

They never came home.

You buried them nine months ago, to the day.

Your toes flexed in the dirt, testing the moisture that was left from your previous trip. Maybe it was weird, probably not the proper way to test it, but you believed six months had given you enough knowledge to test it however you wanted. And if that meant you were gonna shove your toes in the dirt, then by god you were gonna shove your toes in the dirt.

The flowers would be blooming soon; the sun was going down and it was going to be a full moon. Hopefully there would be enough flowers tonight to make a stunning sight. The vines had grown halfway up the marble and you just knew it would bring tears to your eyes.

You moved back a few steps and sat down on the grass, just far enough away to look at the marble that was being overgrown with vines and flowers. As much as you hated it, you would still visit every night. It was the only way to spend the night with your loved ones.

As darkness fell upon the marble and vines, the flowers began to bloom. A beautiful white flower with five petals, accompanied by the most mind-numbingly beautiful scent you had ever smelled. In the glow of the lights, the flowers seemed luminescent, an otherworldly sight for some godly beings.

And basking in that sight, you let your tears fall. Let them fall down your cheeks and onto your knees. The first few weeks you cried, you were ashamed. Tried to wipe them away as soon as they fell, even though no one was around to see them. But now? No, now you let them fall freely until there was nothing left.

The sun begins to rise before you allow yourself to move. Some nights you only stay for a few hours, others until the next night. But you have plans, and they would want you to go. They had said so many times in the past, and you wouldn’t let them down. You couldn’t.

You force yourself to your feet and wipe the dirt off your pants, not even caring how little you actually got off. It didn’t even matter anyway; and that brought the familiar sting to your eyes. No matter. Your face could do with some more moisturiser anyway. So you picked up your bag, turned around, and walked away without a look back.

When you were eight years old, an elderly man gave you a seed.

Not once did you ever think its home would be on Tony’s and Natasha’s graves.

#natasha romanoff #tony stark #natasha romanoff x reader #tony stark x reader #natasha x reader #black widow #tony x natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #tony x reader #tony stark imagine #iron man #iron man x reader #iron man imagine

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starglitterz · 3 years

Note

Bestie help kazuha fluff turned into kazuha angst--

The flowers didn't match. They never did; the inner poet in Kazuha was howling. But they were the only ones that you could ever remember, even as you forgot your name, your family, and finally, him. In a way, he was glad that he was the last one to be forgotten, even if it was a little selfish. He laid the flowers on the grave, looking up at the gravestone. Here lies Y/N Their ambition burned brighter than the sun "The world will not take the stars from the skies." He wiped his tears away and pulled out a thin piece of paper, unfolding it slowly. It was a photo. A photo of you and your first anniversary with him. Kazuha traced over your bright smile, remembering how that smile was softened by wrinkles on your face when he last saw you. Why did you have to use the delusion? You were always so hungry for more, always climbing higher and higher. Kazuha hoped you were satisfied now, at least. "Hello, Y/N. I bet you're probably rolling your eyes at what I carved, right? I mean... I was in a rather poetic mood. It's an excerpt, from one of my favourite poems. Do you remember it?" Kazuha whispered, pulling out a box of matches. "I hope you like it. With love, from your ronin in shining armour." He set the photo alight and watched as the memories and dreams of you and him went up in smoke. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

(AA)

WHAT THE FREAKING FREAK AA ANON, WHY DO U HAVE TO HURT ME THIS WAY ⁉️⁉️⁉️ YES KAZUHA MY BELOVED BBY BOI YOURE MY RONIN IN SHINING ARMOUR I LOVE U SO MUCH NOOO I DIDNT DIE ILY STOP AA ANON IM GOING TO FIGHT YOU

STARTS SOBBING VIOLENTLY

#i say all this as if i dont have kazuha angst scheduled for today #LMAOO #💌 — love letters !#AA anon💌#❄ — ebg !

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fizzydrink698 · 3 years

Note

“I’m hungry,” Jisung whines, letting his phone drop face-down into his lap.

Great opening i feel like im at the theatre and the curtains are still opening but the action is already happening

Straight into some certified fi grade banter love 👏that 👏 for👏 us👏

Awwwwwwwwww these two <33333333 fat uwu

Was this a personal question for vampires? Had you crossed some kind of supernatural taboo?

No Sung is just awks in the face of 😍🤤 and potentially managing the ol 💘

though after reading through im getting more of a do i tell her the undignified way I usually feed or do I try to wine and dine her

He’s perfectly still under you, almost like a statue – and your new position puts you at just a few inches taller than him, forcing him to lift his chin up just slightly to meet your gaze.

<333333333333 💕💓💞💕💓💞💕💓💞💕 just sputtering hearts. That is all.

“Like I said, it’s always…you know, all scary alleyways and…” Jisung rambles on, looking away from you. “I always feel guilty after.”

We got a catholic vampire folks he does wipe ppls memories after apparently but I wanna go off the ah fuck I should have done that but I did and im gonna do it again and feel bad again

A BIG OL CHOMP i-

She rlly went omnomnom I CANT they're too adorable 🤧

Intermission to say I'm loving all the ... and the italics like yasssss

This is torture. Slow, sweet torture, like the worst – best – kind of foreplay. There are no clear thoughts in your head, just a delicious kind of fog that swallows you up entirely.🥵

Chef's kiss ✨✨

... brought to you by grave mail

“Y-yeah, well…” you flounder for words, face growing even warmer. “You know me. I just like proving you wrong."

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW biggest 👉👈😶💕 energy

“Maybe,” Jisung teases. “If you ask nicely.”

AWWWWWW look at him all FED and CONFIDENT

🐾💥

*cracks knuckles* let’s do this! 🥰🥰

we are in fact starting right in the middle of the action. in media res. (in feed-ia res, ayyyy).

i do love my snarky banter between friends. i wanted to establish pretty much straight away that this is a friendship of equals, reader has zero fear towards this dude, it’s all good.

they are real fuckin cute dorks, i love them

hehe, we’re getting into the fun stuff. so. jisung and feeding. he’s definitely a lil awkward about being asked it, but mostly bc...well. his best friend is asking him how he feeds, and how does he explain that it’s almost always through seduction and the humans pretty much always think he’s about to initiate hot dirty alley sex? “up against a wall” indeed.

(also, related to that point above, if we’re talking about jisung ‘managing’ something...well. he’s in sweatpants. reader literally just gave him the vampire version of bedroom eyes and did the whole “slow collar pull down, stroking neck” and oh dear. there’s a reason jisung’s hands are suddenly in his lap 😇)

he’s so n e r v o u s 🥺🥺

i think he’s very much aware of the iffy consent that comes with feeding, but he can’t exactly expose the big secret to any rando he meets. it’s a very fucking difficult ethical situation to be in, and jisung really isn’t well-suited for it.

“omnomnom” was one of my favourite lines, possibly of all my fics. reader’s literally mounting this vampire and staring right at those pointy teeth, and gives zero fucks. icon.

dramatic ellipses. dramatic italics. my crutches, my loves, my lil writing tools.

my plot notes for this section is literally just “oh, reader’s getting into this”. I tried hard to really portray that in a way that wasn’t too graphic, and...yep 🤷‍♀️ words n stuff.

reader’s real fuckin cute. realises jisung has found out about The Feels and is just like “ok, no point denying this. yeah, i have feelings and you assumed i didn’t so really don’t you feel silly?”

i can tell you right now that when they finally get into the ~spice~...reader was not, in fact, the one that asks nicely 😇

delightful as always, i appreciate how much you put into your feedback, 🐾💥! this made me smile so much!

#🐾💥 anon #late night bite feedback

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bisexuallsokka · 3 years

Note

i said sad ending intially but if it means we get to read both im changing my answer to happy ending

alright, good choice! i went with a happier ending, here’s the link to the fic

as for the alternative sad ending, i’m going to put it under the cut. it’s a 5+1 fic and the +1 was the sad one, so i’ll paste that here. i would recommend reading the whole fic first and then if you want to see what i had initially planned for the ending, it is unedited but here it is

(cw for major character death)

“Are you sure you don’t want me to write it down for you?” Zuko asks his husband for the second time, an eyebrow raised.

“I got it! Don’t worry. Soba noodles, rice vinegar, toothpaste, cat treats. Easy peasy,” Sokka beams, grabbing his keys and shrugging on a jacket. “I’ll grab some Twizzlers for movie night, too.”

Zuko rolls his eyes. He will never admit it, but he has grown to love Twizzlers thanks to Sokka. It may have something to do with the large amount of Twizzler flavored kisses over the years. “Alright. I’ll be expecting your phone call soon.”

“Do you have that little faith in me?” Sokka gasps dramatically.

“Not in you, just in your track record,” Zuko tells him. "Four years of marriage will do that."

Sokka laughs and takes a step toward him, watching Zuko pull out ingredients from the fridge until Zuko notices and gives him a questioning look.

“Hey,” Sokka says, kissing Zuko on the cheek. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you too, you giant dork," Zuko responds, heart fluttering in his chest even as he pushes Sokka toward the door. "Now scram, I'm hungry!"

Sokka laughs. “I’ll be right back! I promise!”

Twenty minutes later, Zuko smiles when he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. He can just imagine Sokka staring at the store shelves, waiting for Zuko to pick up so he can ask, “Was it white vinegar that you wanted? Also, do you have a preference for the brand of noodles I get? What else did we need? I know I said I didn’t need to write it down but I should have written it down-”

Zuko puts down the salt he just added to the sautéing vegetables and grabs the phone, not even bothering to look at the caller ID as he answers. “Yes?” he asks, smiling widely.

“Zuko, where are you?”

He blinks. It’s Katara. The tone of her voice sends a chill through his body, and with shaking hands he is already reaching for his keys.

“Katara? Are you o-”

“Zuko, it’s Sokka. You need to come to the emergency room, now.”

Zuko barely has the mindset to turn the stove off before he’s stumbling out the door, keys in hand, knuckles white where he is still clutching his phone as Katara talks to him.

And for the first time in his life, Sokka breaks his promise.

…

The emergency room is deadly silent. Or maybe it is loud. Zuko can’t seem to process anything other than his racing thoughts, the roaring in his ears. As soon as he runs in, a nurse rushes up to meet him, making eye contact with him and then leading the way down the hallway to where Katara and a few other doctors are standing with their heads bowed. One of them has her arm around Katara, which doesn’t make sense because shouldn’t they all be helping Sokka, instead of standing around, and which room was Sokka’s, and-

Katara turned her head at the sound of his footsteps and met Zuko’s eyes with her own wide ones. He has a moment to notice the fresh tears cascading down her cheeks before she rushes to him and wraps her arms around his torso.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, and Zuko shakes his head, barely registering that the other doctors are walking away, giving them privacy.

“What are you talking about? Where’s Sokka?” he asks, and he feels numb but his voice comes out shaky and frightened.

“Zuko,” she pulls back to look him in the eyes. “He didn’t make it. We did everything we could, and he crashed just a few minutes after the ambulance brought him in.”

“But,” Zuko starts, because that can’t be true, Sokka can’t be...gone, he’s going to walk out of one of the rooms any moment now, smiling that crooked smile of his, and he is going to be okay, and he needs Katara to know that, that Sokka wouldn’t just leave him like this. “No, he…” His thoughts are racing, but he can’t seem to convey any of them into words. “No, Katara, he...he promised me that he would be right back. He never breaks his promises. He promised me.”

“This is one promise he can’t keep,” she says quietly.

Zuko feels her shuddering breaths as she sobs into his chest, and his arms are tight around her like it’s the only thing keeping him standing upright, which is probably true, and he has the feeling that he is keeping her from collapsing too. He rubs circles onto her back as she mourns. As long as he has known Sokka, he has known Katara, the two of them a package deal. But now, it is just Katara, grieving over the loss of the brother she has always had by her side.

They stand there for a long time, Zuko comforting the sister of the love of his life, Katara comforting the husband of her big brother, both numb and overwhelmed with emotion at the same time.

…

Katara is at his side and holding his hand, her head on Zuko’s shoulder. Neither of them like coming here alone, so when Toph tells Zuko she has work or Aang offers to stay with the kids, they make the drive together.

Sometimes they stand there for a long time, not saying a word until they are back in the car. Other times they’ll sit on the grass in front of Sokka’s grave and talk about their favorite memories of him, laughing even as they wipe away the tears of sorrow. Today she offers him a bag of Twizzlers and he takes one out and chews it slowly as he stares at the words loving husband carved out of stone.

It makes him think of Sokka’s voicemail, the one he keeps calling just to hear his voice again. “You’ve reached Sokka, that’s with an -okka, if this is important please leave a message, and if this is my loving husband, just know that I in fact do love you more, Zuko.”

The sky is getting darker, and Katara starts to walk toward the car, her fingers letting go of Zuko’s hand as he stays unmoving. She glances over her shoulder, and he gives her a nod before she turns back around and walks to the car alone.

He kneels in front of the tombstone, his head full of so many things he needs to say, but nothing comes out. He takes a shuddering breath in and places a palm on the grass, looking up at the sky where he can see the moon rising on the horizon. He smiles at it.

“I’ll never stop loving you, Sokka. Ever. I promise.”

(Zuko keeps his promise.)

#my writing #ask me stuff #death cw #major character death cw #friendshipisweird

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pinkykitten · 3 years

Text

everything stays

chapter 1 - blood on her hands :: gisela klein [ an aot oc story ]

note: hey guys i know its been a rlly long time since ive posted anything and u may be rlly let down and underwhelmed that ive chosen to write a aot oc instead of fanfic but its what i want to write and i rlly love my oc and wanna give her some love and some praise and let u a little in how i see her. im sorry i havent posted a lot im going to try to write more and who knows i may or may not finish this but its ok imma try lol but life sometimes is a butthole. i hope you love her as much as i do an tysm for taking time out of ur day to read this story. enjoy!

Even though she knew that this day would have to come and that it was near, it still was a surprise for her. She was taken aback. It didn’t make sense and add up to her; she was trained for this since she was little; preparing mentally and physically for phase one of the plan; and the day appeared through the trees; past the wall; the opportunity was present; the fate of the people were waiting in their hands; and yet she felt a sense of evilness within her heart. Was this right? But there was no time.

The day was written down in history. The stories were spread around like a disease. Heights, jaws, teeth, feet, stench, the screams. If they survived that nightmare they were seen as a tough soldier; as someone that was applauded because they probably had PTSD and had to see everyday as a reason within themselves or God that they were alive. That maybe just maybe they were saved for a reason; for a purpose. That is what Gisela Klein thought. Maybe there was something greater out there for her to do, to accomplish and that was why she saw another day; breathed another breath.

But one thing was for sure. Forgiveness would never come her way; she would never expect it. To be a warrior she had to endure the horror; the pain; feelings of worthlessness; and friendships lost.

This is the story of the 10th finding titan; the Slash Titan.

The pounding of her heart rang through her ears. It had taken everything for her to keep going on this journey; to continue on the path to and through Hell. She felt a loss within her and the light in her eyes died out. The loss of her friend made it hard for her to function. To keep her head in the game and in the plan.

She sighed as she stared at her hands. Broken and bruised like her heart; scars and scratches scattered on her skin. Her bite mark deeply engraved into her flesh. She heaved a huge sigh. Ready to give death a handshake and make a deal with the devil. Panic was rising in her chest from her stomach, almost ready to throw up.

As she thought about her family back home she realized there was no other way; she had to do this. In order to be with her family, to save them she had to do the one thing she was trained to do.

Kill.

A lightning strike shot over the wall. The wall that kept the monsters away and at bay. Something was wrong; the air seemed to change. The lightning strike caused a boom, clap and the ground started to shake.

Bertholdt drew his leg back and with full force swung his leg forward, knocking a hole into the wall that was impenetrable. Many people flew back from the wind of the blow and some were crushed by the debris of the wall.

Many were going to die; but it’s what needed to be done.

The titans were called.

Finally the titans entered the devils homes and started to rip up their lives. “This is right, this is right.” Gisela had to keep reminding herself. “For my family.” And something snapped within her. The image of her mother, tortured, flashed in her mind. And suddenly everything was worth it. “No regrets.”

Gisela eyed Reiner, an agreement, a sign. She exhaled and in a quick motion placed her hand to her mouth and bit into it. In a spark she transformed into her titan form. Her eyes were much like a cats, sharp. She was made into the slash titan, she was chosen for this program. Her titans fingers were like sharp knives, able to cut any object or person. They hung a little past her knees.

Reiner then transformed and both stomped past the hole. Many citizens glanced up, horrified. Gisela and Reiner were titans never seen before.

She nodded to Reiner, bent down and started to pick up debris and pieces of houses to throw over the bigger wall. The chunks started to smash against people. Blood splattering everywhere. Gisela almost wanted to close her eyes from the immense amount of dead bodies piled on top of others, graves upon graves.

She was hauling boulders as high and fast as she could. Her titan held a high amount of power and strength. Being slim, muscular and as tall as the armored titan and female titan. Reiner took a step back and gained his speed to go onward to destroy the bigger wall.

“Fire!” Their soldiers cried out. Fear evident on their face. They shot their cannons, not even slowing down Reiner. Gisela continued flinging, wanting to create a path for Reiner. She was faster than before and many of her hits flattened the men in the front lines. Their screams and cries loud.

“Close the gate!” They tried, it was their last hope to save humanity. But it was not enough. Reiner broke the wall and killed those running and they went flying. They reached even higher than Gisela. It astounded her almost, they seemed like helpless birds flying high in the sky; but that thought was quickly wiped clean because the second they flew up in the air they came straight down with much force that many parts of their bodies broke.

Reiner did what he needed to do, he opened up a way for the titans to get in and they were swarming by the bunches.

In the distance, the survivors fled in boats across the river to get into the other walls. Gisela put herself in their shoes for a second. They had reason to be scared. Everything they have ever known was gone; their houses, loved ones, food, a place to feel the most comfortable you can feel despite situations; it was all gone. Gisela shook the thought out, not caring about these cruel humans feelings. They had none. No emotions. Gisela had to believe that thought; what she was told, she had to believe it with all her heart, or else what was real?

They waited till they were able to not be seen and Gisela turned human first and then so did Reiner. The four of them hopped on the boat. Talking amongst themselves. The wind howled through the vacant homes. Destruction everywhere. Gisela looked around her setting and saw a little girl had been crushed because a tree fell on her, her doll mere inches away from her grasp. She died with her eyes open; almost looking into Gisela’s soul through the eyes. Gisela’s body trembled and she threw up.

“Don’t.”

Gisela looked up to see Reiner wiping blood and debris off his clothes. He picked his sleeve and turned Gisela’s head to look away, he wiped her chin and mouth off the puke. He saw the trauma in her eyes and felt guilty. But it’s what needed to be done. He kept telling himself that the more he did this the more he would understand and get used to it. It was still all new to her and he had to be strong for her. He knelt in front of her small frame. “It’s not your fault. They needed to die. We are in this together. You don’t need them. Look at me.”

Gisela looked into his eyes, away from the sadness. His eyes carried the feeling of wanting to be wanted. That was always what Reiner wanted. But they also had fear in his eyes.

“Stop acting like you’re in control when I know how sick you feel. I know how afraid you are Reiner.”

He paused and took a look at his hands and others surrounding him. “You’re right. But I made a promise to Marcel.”

They joined the other citizens arriving at the food reserves. The master of disguise was needed in this mission. People needed to see four hungry, depressed children that survived the fall of their homes, not mass murderers.

Annie was only able to fetch two loaves. “Alright, who's the most hungry?”

“You girls should eat, you’re more feeble.” Bertholdt sat on a crate, pointing to Gisela and Annie.

Annie tsked, moving a bang from her eyes, “who says girls are more feeble? I recall kicking your ass all those times in training.”

“You guys can eat it, I’m not hungry.” Gisela sat on the other crate and saw the chaos of the crowds. A boy caught her interest. He had dark brown hair, tan skin, and light blue green eyes. He was having bread shoved in his mouth and he seemed to have such a strong personality to him. If only Gisela felt so strongly about her motive and her placement in this life.

“You really should eat, you need your energy after all you did.” Annie broke all the loaves in half and shared it amongst the four of you. “It’s not much but at least it's something.”

Gisela sighed, “you’re right. Thanks.”

After that day there was land given to only a few refugees but there were too many of them. Luckily the four of them had a piece of land that was enough until further inching themselves within society. Through that whole span each day was getting easier and easier living with the lies and day by day Gisela felt more at sure with herself and knowing that she could fulfill this mission. Pills and alcohol helped the pain and ease the thoughts. She taught herself to put a gap between what she came here to do and feelings. She told herself every day that nobody else mattered except her family and Reiner. She trained her brain to not care, to not have strings attached or any love for anything. It was all a play, all a rehearsal for when the curtain would fall. She was readying herself for that fall. Everyday she educated herself more on these scums. What they liked, wanted, needed, craved for, and what they craved more than ever in their life was freedom.

She trained her body as if it were her last day, barely getting sleep. The face of her mother haunting her every night making her get up at three in the morning to do pushups or sit ups. Not only was her mind getting stronger but also her body. Even Reiner would make jokes noticing the muscles that would appear. The six pack that formed on her stomach. Her thighs growing tight and firm, her arms growing stronger. The sweat growing on her forehead longer.

With her body growing her relationship with Reiner also changed. They no longer were the tiny children that didn’t understand anatomy or the air between two people. Reiner and Gisela’s relationship was of being flirty, sharing a few kisses here and there, trying to be a couple but then yelling at each other and breaking it up and realizing maybe this isn’t right a million times. Even Bertholdt and Annie were getting tired of their outbursts. But each time they made up to be friends only and then the cycle started where the feelings came in the way and they wanted to be more. They would tease each other, especially Reiner. They were each other's best friends. Gisela was like one of the boys, loud, obnoxious, burping all the time, Reiner would get a look at her and smirk thinking he taught her well. When Reiner looked at her he felt at home and that everything was going to be okay. Her nightmares continued and each time Reiner would come to her room and hold her, let her cry into his arms. She felt he was the only person that knew her pain.

Gisela understood many things in life and for once she understood her life here, she understood why she was born and chosen.

It was the following year and in order to get closer to finding the founding titan the four became part of the 104th cadet corps.

“Are you ready to train more?” Gisela nudged Reiner, eyebrow raised.

“What do you mean train more? This is going to be a new but scary experience honestly.” Reiner spoke as if he was a different person. As if he didn’t have a life outside of the walls.

“Reiner?” Gisela placed her hand on his shoulder, steadying him. He looked fine on the outside but Gisela knew the issues were inside, his mind. She knew this was becoming disastrous to him, he was starting to have almost two personalities, two lives, two worlds, two people. Gisela tried to tell Annie or Bertholdt, they saw it too but there was nothing they could do.

All that Gisela could do was smile as they made their way to the first day of training.

note: again ty y’all sm!!!! If u liked it lmk and this is kinda new for me cuz I usually don’t post my ocs stories here or much at all but I’m rlly excited for y’all to see her and for y’all to know this oc of mine and hopefully accept her ❤️

Taglist: @witchofinterest @chlobenet @eddysocs @fpxloomis @whctsherncme-archive @ocfairygodmother @fandomchick80 @ocappreciationtag

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mrsjojokujo · 3 years

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hii <3 ive been reading some of your content for a while! i really enjoy it, i was hoping if i could request some okuyasu content? ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ (anything sort of theme is okay! im just hungry for okuyasu content <3)

AAAA YES YES YES!!! <333 okuyasu....my beloved...anyways,,, here’s some general okuyasu headcanons!!! also some if this is stuff i learned from shifting is part 4!! and if anyone wants okuyasu x me headcanons i have them

-This is actually pretty canon but, Okuyasu thinks of Josuke as a brother. Ever since the whole Chili Pepper incident, he calls Josuke “bro” which is the same thing he called Keicho :(

-Which also explains why Okuyasu is so loyal to Josuke and is attached to him, they’re family

-And also with that, I think after awhile Okuyasu sees Tomoko as a mother figure

-Like since Okuyasu is living all alone with his dad, sometimes Tomoko will invite him over for dinner so he can have a nice home cooked meal

-I feel like Okuyasu gets often upset about romance. Josuke always has girls confessing to him and Koichi has Yukako and he just gets...helpless. AND THATS WHERE I SWOOP IN-

-I think when he gets older, he becomes a chef working for Tonios and oh my gosh that just...so cute

-He loves kids!! Since he’s very family oriented he’s always dreamed of having a family of his own. Again, this is there I swoop in and save the day....

-He visits his brothers grave very often, even sometimes having lunch with him

-Okay but I just had the thought of Okuyasu visiting Keicho’s grave and telling him that Okuyasu and I are having a baby I might cry

-He can play the guitar and he’s pretty good at it!!

-His hands are always really rough and calloused...poor thing

-He refers to stray cat as his child, which is pretty accurate

-This is canon but he is so forgiving. It actually makes me cry often, what a sweetheart.

-Sometimes him, Josuke and Koichi go over to Rohans house to play Mario party and every single time Okuyasu choses to play as Bowser

-Actually I have a whole lot of headcanons about the DIU gang playing Mario party so...if anyone wants to hear them...

-His favorite flowers are sunflowers

-He’s very confused at the concept of almond milk...how...how does it milk????

-This isn’t a headcanon this is absolute truth but Okuyasu and I are actually madly in love. You can ask him yourself its fact.

#jjba #jjba headcanons #okuyasu my beloved #okuyasu headcanons #okuyasu nijimura #okuyasu #i love okuyasu #okuyasu x me

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thewolfisapartofmysoul · 4 years

Text

CURIOUS COAT

You and Dewey were panting and sweating. If you asked Dew... it was not the good panting and sweating. You wiped your brow and groaned at Dewey... he was staring at you... again. A dopey grin on his scruffy face and his brown curls sticked to his forehead. You blushed under his loving gaze, skipped towards your rockstar and heared the floor squeek dangerously among your steps. You pecked Dewey sweetly on the lips while your hand moved to brush his hair out if his face. His hands found your waist, fingers dancing along your sides and his stubble tickled on your face.

Dewey hummed in the kiss... However, it was not how your rockstar preferred to spend his sundaymorning. Throwing away stuff from the attick of your uncles home... But hey... at least he got to spend time with you doing just that. "One more box untill freedom, baby!!!" Dewey whooped loudly in excitement, gesturing to the last box on the attic floor.

The last cardboard box was moved from the wooden floor and when Dewey moved it out of the way, your interest was peaked by an old looking coat that was draped across the floor.

It must have been laying underneath the boxes...

Dewey smirked at your enthausiastic sparkle. He knew you loved old stuff. You leaped toward it and took it into your sweaty hands. The coat felt cold... which peaked your interest, cause it was a bloody hot morning. The material looked like it went to hell and back, multiple times. There was a lot of dust on it and had several holes that were roughly stitched back together.

whoever did this... couldnt sew very good...

You turned the coat around to look at the back, a smirk appeared on your lips as you exeminated the piece of fabric fondly. Dewey's eyes lit up when he saw that smirk appear on your pretty face. He loved to see you excited... It made his heart full. Gosh he adored you when you were in your zone...

You brushed some dust of the shoulder of the green stained coat. Since when... was dust... white?

You held the coat by the shoulders before you and hummed in thought. This COULD be Dewey's size tho...

You flickered your exited gaze towards Dewey, who casually leaned against a shelve. Arms crossed, hair chaotic as ever and an innocent smile on his face. His gaze glued to your every move, and you could swear that your rockstar radiated adoration for you, when he looked at you like that.

"Mister Finnnnnn...." you started as you slowly walked towards him. Dewey's face lit up and he chuckled: "Oh boy.... last time you used that voice you wanted to go tie-shopping..."

You smirked at him and scratched his scruff, you held up the coat and mumbled to him: "Do you want to try this on for me?"

Dewey rolled his eyes and tugged you closer on the beltloops of your shorts. "Depends... How many kisses do i get in return?"

You pecked his cheek as an awnser and told him: "This one already. Try it on for meeeeee?"

How could Dewey possibly say no to that adorable pouty face of you... he nodded and you hugged him before handing him the coat.

Dewey stroked your hair lovingly and muttered on your lips: "But I get to pick the movie tonight... AND the pizza... deal my love?"

You nodded quickly and kissed him one more time before turning him around, and patted his shoulders to give him some courage.

Dewey snickered at your eagerness and held up the coat to look at it. He scrunched up his nose when he stated: "Fine darling... BUT... If a beetle crawls out of it... i swear i will scream so hard that you have to get your ears checked... Just forward warning you."

You chuckled and nodded, with a happy smile on your face. Dewey brushed of some more dust from the back of the coat with a chuckle, and went to slip it on.

You swore you felt the air move when his arms slid into the coat. A brush of cold air brushed against your legs and your eyes searched Deweys when you felt this. Wait... what? Did you just... Did Deweys eyes just... had a flash of *green* in them, for a second?

Dewey smirked at you and tugged at the collar of his jacked smugly. His smirk turned into a grin when his eyes landed on yours. He gave you an onve over and bit his lip. Dewry tugged at the collar of his coat again and strolled towards you.

Wait... since when did Dew stroll that confidently...?

Before you could process what was happening you felt yourself being pushed against the door of the attic. That was unusual... but not unwelcome... Deweys lips attacked yours and his hands tangled in your hair instantly. He tugged harshly it with a hunger that was unfamiliar to you. Dewey stroked, petted, even braided your hair... but never tugged at it...

You clenched the collar of his jacket tightly and took in the earthy smell that surrounded your HoneyDew.

His stubble tickling against your face felt familiar. Dewey's hands wandered your body and you panted when he pushed his leg upwards, touching your core as he roughly pinned your hands above your head.

Deweys dark eyes found yours as he tugged your bottom lip with his teeth. He growled with need when his lips moved towards your neck.

You were too caught into pleasure to care.

You threw your head back in pleasure and moaned quietly at the sudden roughness that overtook your, sweet and gentle rockstar.

Dewey let go of your hands and muttered into the hungry kiss: "You like this babes?"

thats... growly... and gravely... and... smug and...

Dewey brought your attention back to him when he nipped on your pulse point. hard

...babes? Dewey had never called you babes before...

As his tongue worked over the bruise on your pulse point, soothing the bruised skin... between sparks of pleasure your mind wandered.

What had gotten into your boy?

You massaged Deweys scalp softly, how he always liked it and instead of the expected moan, Dewey purred.

...your boy purred

Your mind was spinning, switching from pleasure to reason.

Suddenly it hit you. You kissed Dewey hungerly and moved your hands down over his scruff, down his neck, towards his shoulders. Dewey had a manic, hungry look in his eyes when his gaze bored into you... You deepened the kiss and took his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged when you brushed the coat of his shoulders.

With a thump it hit the floor and a bit of green smoke damped off the fabric.

You watched the green flash in Deweys eyes again and Dewey's hand combed calmly through your hair. When you saw his kind gaze again you let go of his bottom lip. Dewey beamed up at you and chirped: "Lip biting huh? Thats kinky..."

You smiled at him and pointed towards your hickey on your neck. His eyes knitted together when he saw your bruised spot and you massaged his scalp softly to calm him down. Your rockstar leaned his hand into yours and hummed contently when you scratched his hair playfully. He lowered his leg between yours and when he hummed your name it was coated with love again.

His arms slowly found its way towards your hips and brushed slowly up and down on your lower back.

You pulled your confused Dewey into a sweet kiss and scratched his stubble when his troubled eyes found yours. Dewey pulled back but before he could ask you kicked the coat out if the way and breathed against his lips: "I'll explain later, okay champ?"

Dewey nodded yes and went to pick up the old coat you loved, but your grip on his shoulder stopped him. You looked into his eyes and muttered: "The only thing i will be needing from this place... is you Dewdrop..."

Dewey blushed and pressed a sweet kiss on the top of your nose. His callous fingers entertwined with yours as you took a hold of his hand and tugged him towards the door. "Let's go home Dewey... Pepperoni pizza?"

Dewey chuckled when you lead him down the stairs and you squeeled he smacked your ass when you walked down the stairs.

When Dewey was done snickering his voice sounded behind you: "Hey! Carefull... I got to pick the pizza, princess..."

You mumbled under your breath:

"You can honestly pick the pizza on any day of the week Dew... as long as im sure that I have you..."

With a slam you left the house of your uncle behind you. And you swore to yourself... that... long coats would be banned from now on...

@ironmansuucks @paxenera @heknowshisherbs @hoodoo12 @large-unit @thats-specific @vicunaburger @go-commander-kim @stranger-strings @gegehaddock @bugdrinkss

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p1nkwitch · 3 years

Note

✓ and # with Edith and Jonah!

✓: waking up either adorably confused or painfully scared

#: shaky hands

I'm going to use the Edith from the world turned upside down fic mixed with a mother’s love, i hope you don't mind!

Edith loves her child, her little miracle is the one thing that she can safely say that she loves more than anything in this world.

A new life, a new shot of keeping her son safe, this time for real. When her husband… Well, when he can't deal with her precious Jonah due to remembering their first life, she leaves, she ends things, picks up her child and goes.

James and her talk, of course they do, she did love him, but this time she wanted to keep Jonah safe and happy. So breaking up was for the best. To give him a happy childhood, his ex husband was ok with not interacting with him, even if… her boy wondered why his dad did not come to see him for his birthdays or special occasions.

And it broke her heart, but they both knew he could not deal with him and she did not want him to hurt the boy in any way. So they kept their agreement.

And things are well, they are ok for a long, long time. Her boy is happy, has Barnabas and Jonathan as friends and the three seem inseparable. Edith is just glad that everything is finally well, that this time their lives can be better.

However…

It seems that the world likes to prove her wrong, likes to make her worry.

His son’s friends suddenly dislike him and she thinks about it, has an inkling as to why, that she does not want to consider. Because that means that maybe one day Jonah will recall too and she doesn't know what to do then.

He is unhappy and she knows, but she can't get him new friends, can't explain why they were mad at him without giving more about a life that was. So she keeps an eye on him and hopes for the best.

The best comes, with one Peter Fairchild whom her son suddenly starts to talk about a lot, how quiet and annoying he is, how he never seems to talk with anyone-

Jonah talks about him like a puzzle piece and slowly it turns into him speaking about him far more nicely, how he brings him cookies, how he makes funny comments under his breath-

It makes her unbelievably fond of this boy for bringing her son his joy back. That's why she makes such an effort when he invites him for a sleepover, her Jonah was nervous and she wanted to help.

The boy is a delight and she can see Jonah look at him with a smile and laugh at his antics, it warms her heart, but also… something sort of tries to click on her brain, something she was missing.

She recalled very little of her time after her “death” but… she thinks Jonah came to talk to her grave and he… brought someone along too. She just can't remember much of it. Too weak and hungry for her childs terror of the end.

Things go well, until-

Jonah becomes ill, so, so ill all of a sudden. It reminds her too much of when he fell to the lake and that awful winter, it brings her to tears. He is in bed shaking, pale and out of it. The doctors said that he will be fine, that is not deadly-

But she fears.

She fears and ponders about sacrifices, about keeping her child alive again. Makes the calculations about their neighbours and their kids and waits to see spiders, to see them lead her to the place she needs to go.

Edith will not lose him, never. She will do whatever is necessary to keep her son alive. Whatever sacrifice must be done to achieve it she will do it.

Her hands shake a lot, but she keeps him close and sings the lullaby she sang to him all those years ago, praying its enough, hoping that nothing bad will happen to him. She brushes his sweaty hair away and hears him mumble that he doesn't want to die, the pure ache at hearing him say that makes her shed her own tears.

“No, no you will be fine my little dragon, i swear, i will protect you this time”

He curls up around her and she weeps again for her child, wanting nothing more than to keep him safe and happy.

Jonah wakes up for moments, but he is very out of it, the confused face makes her want to wrap him up in blankets and never let anything bad happen to him.

“Mom, mom im sorry, please im so sorry-”

“Shhh, there is nothing to be sorry about dear” Yet he keeps saying it and she talks to him, tells him stories to keep him preoccupied. Those seem to calm him down enough, she knows he is not really listening, but his cute little face pokes out of the sheets and looks at her mesmerized and its enough.

Enough for now to keep him away from whatever terrible things haunt him in his sleepy hours. His hands reach out to her and hold her own while brushing his little fingers softly on her.

“I'm sorry, you are very pretty mom” She smiles albeit confusedly at him.

“Thank you?”

“Mm sorry i get mad when people say i look too much like you… you are pretty and nice” Her heart is being squeezed and she imagines another life, where she can see those words haunting the boy.

“Its ok my little prince, you are very handsome” He makes a few nonsensical sounds.

“Pretty and nice and you love me lots, I love you mom, I'm sorry I'm not good…” She kisses his forehead.

“Oh Jonah you are everything I have ever wanted, my little firebug I love you, you are so good. And even if you weren't… i'm not that good either, i would love you no matter what” Her boy squeezes her hand and she lays next to him while holding him close.

“Sleep ok? I will be here, always” He nods and she ignores any wet spots on her neck, she merely draws shapes on his back and hums along until his breathing slows down and he sleeps.

Edith is not a good person, not by a long shot. She is aware that she would hurt people for her child, is willing to do it. How silly of her boy to think that she was ever good.

It breaks, the illness that is, she was relieved, so so, relieved.

However the worst is yet to come.

Jonah starts to act more irrational, twitchy, closed off, quiet-

She doesn't know what to do, he also eats so little it makes her fearful of watching him waste away. Peter seems to be doing his best to keep him company, whenever she asks. He looks sort of sad, but says that the boy shares his food with him and sticks around all the time. That at the very least lets her know that someone is looking over him.

Then he comes back one day from his sleepover without saying a word and everything goes downhill.

He is at the hospital, refusing to speak, to explain himself-

He is a shadow of her bright curious child and it makes her mad, at whatever force there is out there that caused this, that caused him to be like this. Was it her? Did she do something? His teachers, classmates-

Peter doesn't know, she asks him once when he comes to wait and that-

That also makes her sad, because Jonah rejects him yet the boy comes back every day, sits and waits for the moment he will say yes.

The name Peter sounds more familiar and the niggling sensation of knowing him comes back.

Still his little face shows guilt and fear and she wants to shake him for answers, but she takes a breath and smiles at him. He is just as worried as her.

She thinks she will kill Mister Sims and his partner, she very much wants to. For now she has to conform with a punch in the face. Still she will get their downfall one way or another.

….

Jonah wakes up.

Confused and… he doesn't know, her son who remembered his life doesn't know anymore. She is between sad and happy that he can let it go, if that's what caused him all this pain.

Still she chooses to lay in the hospital bed next to him, while he looks confused, sad and scared. That makes her brush his hair out of his face and reassures him with whispered words about everything going to be better from now on, that she will be there always.

Jonah looks at her with bleary eyes, still more or less out of it, but its ok, her little gift will be ok now. His face scrunches up adorably and she pokes his nose. She missed this, missed him.

“Mom?” He is still sleepy and she won't begrudge him that.

“Yes firebug?”

“I love you” Her heart swells and she scoops him closer to her holding him while he cries against her again. She will protect his tiny life with her dying breath.

Edith Lenore Magnus loves her son with her whole heart.

He lets the tears fall, a last cleansing of a life that was and he cant recall anymore.

She hums and he sniffles before wiping his tears and letting her calm him down until he falls asleep between her arms.

Peter Lukas.

That was it.

Jonah had called him his husband while she was in her coffin, she remembers now.

She sees the two of them sleeping, while cuddling on the couch, and thinks that she would love to finally be able to be at his wedding this time around.

The boy has proven to love her son so much it's astounding. Even if Simon says that their relationship was rather torrid most of the time, he can see this time around they were far better with each other.

She agrees and hopes this is a better life for all of them.

She sees a spider on the wall and ponders, ultimately she picks up a piece of paper and the arachnid walks on it camly while she sets it free outside.

Perhaps the first time around it was a manipulation, maybe it still is, but the spiders had helped her along to keep her Jonah alive in both lives.

She will not begrudge them at all.

#flurby gets an ask #my writingf #edith my love #based on my fics #murder mom i love you #she loves him so much #I hope this satisfies you

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