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mayaree-darling · 6 months

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who's to say what's real or fake// Genshin SAGAU

from aree: impostor au but you actually are the impostor? but ofcourse theres a twist. I think i'll call this FakeGrace!Reader. This was just going to be a headcannon post but ended up a whole fic plot

warnings: themes that all come with the sagau tag (yandere, lots of religious talk, cult, etc.)

word count: 2k~

You end up on Teyvat and immediately the characters recognize you as their Creator; of course you're their Creator - you have the same face, name, and voice. You go through the ordeal of getting to know all the characters all over again and they in turn love you as the god they’ve been waiting for all this time.

You decide that well, this is the world and characters I spent blood, sweat, and tears building (even if it was behind a screen) so might as well help out and do what needs to be done. The people come to you for their problems and you find that they're not as difficult as when you were simply a player. Maybe a minor dispute here and there between the NPCs, but now the vision holders and the Archons ask for your thoughts on how to go about political matters concerning their nations. Even Snezhnaya has signed a peace treaty with the other nations as a show of good faith to the Creator (even if you know for a fact its a temporary one).

All has never been better.

Until another Creator appears in Teyvat, and this one bleeds gold the way their stories foretold. In a way you do not.

The vision holders are torn. Yes, you are an impostor, and they want to hate you for tricking them, but at the same time haven’t you only shown them love? Haven’t you been patient with them and understanding despite being thrown into a world you’re unfamiliar with?

But with careful coercion from the other god, they have to choose to follow their true Creator. You decide to take pity on them and step down from your position yourself, choosing to live with the Aranara who have gladly taken you under their wing (fake god you may be, you are still a friend of the forest, and the forest always remembers its friends).

The Archons tell their new Creator that you are no more. They pretend to not hear when the Creator says they should have brought your head with them, maybe just a bitter reaction for finding out that they have been serving an impostor all this time (the Archons are lying when they say they do not feel sickened at the idea of hurting you, and disgusted at this new God's words)

It soon becomes clear to the people of Teyvat that this new Creator is not you - none of the patience or kindness you had showed them. This new one thinks helping their people is below them, even laughs at some of their problems. They chuck their duties as a god to the vision holders and spend their days leisurely, wining and dining on the best food, expecting to be waited on hand and foot. And at first it was fine, the characters understood. Maybe their Creator was just enjoying the fruits of their labor for once (although in the back of their mind, they can't help but compare you - you who worked tirelessly to attend to everyone even when they’d almost beg you to take a break). The characters tell themselves that they just need to get used to this new god, their true Creator. It will all right itself in time. Even as the Creator acted more like a child by the day, calling for the punishment of characters for the simplest of things. It’s fine. It’s fine.

It didn't take long for their will to break.

The God of Wisdom is called as such for a reason. Nahida may be younger compared to the rest, but she is braver than most. She simply tried to impart a fraction of her wisdom, softly suggesting to the Creator to show mercy for their people who were gravely punished for things they did not do.

This Creator was not you. They did not have a drop of patience that you had, nor any love for their creations. Their god saw this as nothing but an act of treason. How dare a mere Archon tell them what to do? She dares to question who the Creator can and cannot punish?

The silence is deafening in the throne room as the Creator calls for the death of Lesser Lord Kusanali and the destruction of Sumeru. If it is mercy she asks for then it is the last thing she and her people will receive. The other Archons agree past gritted teeth, the sin of Khaenri’ah weighing heavy over their shoulders still.

Nahida had been banished to Sumeru before the order was given, so the Archons make their way to the Nation of Wisdom to tell her of her sentencing, hoping to beg her to ask the Creator for their forgiveness.

This can't be how it ends. Are they to spend their lives in fear of the god they so revered?

They enter a forest emitting divine energy in search of their friend, hearts heavy, but they found something else.

They found you. They found the Creator they loved once upon a time.

They seemed to have caught you mid-conversation with Nahida, and to their surprise (and resentment) the Tsaritsa; they can only assume that the god of Snezhnaya has informed you first of Nahida's fate. The Wanderer catches sight of them and stands in front of you in protection. You don't even bat an eye. You swallow hard and stand, Nahida's hand enveloped in yours, and the other gods would be lying if they say they did not feel jealousy strangling their lungs.

With a steady voice, you tell them that should they take one step against Nahida, you will meet them halfway. If they decide to send Sumeru to hell, they will have to go through you first. You will do everything you can to stop them, and if Sumeru falls then you fall with them.

They don't have to look at the others to make up their mind. There's a beat of silence but first it's Morax, and Beelzebul and Barbatos and then Focalor, and they are on their knees, heads bowed low.

It is only right to show respect to their god, after all. How could they be so blind?

Validation of their actions comes soon after as you let go of Nahida's hand and tell the Wanderer to stand aside. You do something that tyrant of a Creator that sits on a glass throne would never - you kneel before them and hold out your hand.

"Why are you all kneeling? Stand up. I am no longer your god. But I hope you will have me as a friend. Will that be alright?"

There are tears in their eyes as they let out stuttering laughter. Yes, this is their god. Their god with so much love and compassion and a heart that does nothing but bleed for them. A heart that does not ask for them to bleed.

You are their god. You are their true Creator. Golden blood be damned. All that gold has done nothing but blind them.

Eventually, you all end up on the forest floor. You accept the role of a friend as promised, and catch up with them. The Archons are almost in tears as you listen to their stories earnestly, squeezing their hands in sympathy as you listen to the pain they've been through under the rule of their so called Creator (they really should find a new title for you, the god that sits on your throne has sullied your rightful name). At one point they stop telling you stories of their mistreatment, unable to see your face be any sadder than it already was. They take to retelling your stories together, reminiscing better days - because is that not what they have done all this time? Think about the lovely you for every wrongdoing the other god had done in your name?

As you laugh and smile with them and their stories and their company, the idea burrows through their mind without your knowledge, taking root, and they refuse to let it go. Wouldn't it be so much better if it was always like this? Seeing your smiling face with them, a person that deserves to be called a god even more so than all of them combined. Knowing you were safe from harm, not having to defend yourself, especially from them under orders from a tyrant. Knowing you loved them the way they loved you.

It was all better with you.

When you weren't looking, the Archons gave each other knowing looks and curt nods in understanding.

You are their beloved Creator.

As a peaceful silence falls over you, they watch as you smile sadly, their hearts breaking to see such an expression on your face. In a soft voice, you apologize for not being able to do much to help them. When you lift your head, golden resolute eyes meet yours.

"You’ve done enough, Your Grace. Let us handle the rest."

You may have laughed at the old title, but the Archons are hell bent in returning it to you. Although it hurts them to say goodbye, they know it’s only for the moment. Soon, you will be with them. Back in your rightful throne, as you have always deserved.

Nahida is the youngest, and so they decide to spare her the carnage. The rest know she is no fool, they don't need to tell her what they had planned for her to know what happens next. She does not fully agree in the others' decision, yet she stays in Sumeru, promising to make sure you do not find out. Word travels fast to the other vision holders in the form of a breeze from Barbatos. Barely anyone had disagreed with the notion of removing the rejected god from the throne, and those who were hesitant at first changed their mind after hearing how you were ready to go down with Sumeru. Morax and the Tsaritsa lead the rebellion.

A god is only as powerful as the people who worship them. By the time the Archons arrived in the throne room, the Creator had no one to hide behind.

They made it a spectacle. They spin a tale for the people that the god they so worshiped was an impostor who had switched bodies with their rightful god, which explains the gold blood that should be yours. They say you were patiently waiting for them all to come back to you, to remove this impostor from your throne. You were ready to accept them all, they just needed to get rid of this filth that dared destroy your name. The Creator - no, the Impostor - is horrified when the people accept this story so easily, but they only have themselves to blame. Who cares what they have to say to defend themselves, although it’s not like they can anyway - how can they when their tongue was cut off?

Teyvat was silent as gold painted the streets of Liyue Harbor. Teyvat no longer cares for golden blood, not after all the blood and tears it had taken from its people. After all, a golden soul stands ready to take back their rightful place.

Your followers thought it had all been worth it - the pain, the hardships, the blood - to see you smile the first time you set foot outside Sumeru after what felt like years to them. And yet, despite the joyous occasion, you hesitantly turn to them and ask a question not even Irminsul would answer you.

"What happened to the Creator?"

You would be lying if you said the soft smiles each of them gave did not unnerve you as they all said the same thing, like a joke everyone knew all except you.

"We simply removed the Impostor from Your Grace's presence."

They are thankful that you are blinded by your love for them to see the gold shine on their hands. You do not ask about the shimmering streets either. Liyue was the city of gold after all, was it not?

For now, their biggest concern is your acceptance that they are your equal, but that can easily be fixed. You are their friend now, but someday you’ll be their god again. Slowly but surely. They will sit you back in your throne. They will kneel before you again. They will give you the reverence you so deserved.

It will all be yours.

You're their wonderful Creator, after all. Maybe not to you right now. But you always have been for them.

They’ll start from calling you Your Grace. You’d be too kind to tell them off over and over.

You always had been good at adapting.

You had gotten used to it then, you’ll get used to it again.

✨ Masterlist ✨

Taglist: 💛@anime-allover 💛@faeriessky 💛 @prksolon 💛 @dai-tsukki-desu

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

#genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin au #sagau genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact reader insert #sagau x reader #genshin cult au #sagau

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norrisleclercf1 · 9 months

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Mafia!Lance Stroll Headcannons

Warnings: Fake dating, you're an escort, Lance pays you to date him, wants his dad off his back about forming an alliance

A/N: Let's get it took me a while to find a plot but I did

good money, good money, you'd never have to work again money

your Madam handed you the contract as you sat in her office

Stroll

you knew that name, everyone in Canada did

The Stroll family, the largest, richest, most powerful

family in Canada that ruled it with an iron fist

you scuff throwing it on her desk saying no

no way would you go out with the leader of such an awful

family

your Madam chuckles, taking off her glasses and tells you it's

the son

you hate the way you second guess

you'd seen what the infamous Lance Stroll looked like

picture in the media once in a while

he screamed daddies money, but also had this soft edge to him

seeing your hesitation she knows she's got you

tells you that you'll be meeting him for dinner to get to know

one another

she refuses to tell you why he needs an escort, that he could

just looks at one and they'd gladly do whatever he wanted

arriving to the place you curse your heels hating them

they're new and started to dig into your skin

the door opens, a young man stepping out

He's wearing black dress pants with a silk royal blue shirt

the first 2 buttons undone

When the male looks up, you instantly know him

Lance Stroll

taking a deep breath you place that mask on perfectly

You say his name, drawing his attention you move to

plaster yourself to his side but he steps back

tells you that he doesn't need you to do that

escorts you into the restaurant to the back where a private area is

set up for the two of you

sitting down he gets right to business letting you know why

you are needed

faking dating

his father was starting to push marriage onto him and he needed

a way to stop it and that his brother in law gave him the idea

that dinner was 2 years ago

2 years of fake dates that started to feel real

fake touching that became private and reserved for the two of you

fake kisses that actually took your breath away

except that was all it was, fake

you still did your job going on smaller scales to make money

Lance hated it

he was paying you good money why'd you still need to escort

you scuff telling him this was fake and while he was paying you

when this ended you would need this job

It always leaves a bad taste in Lance's mouth

this relationship kept his father at bay not mentioning the

marriage contracts again

tonight was a family dinner one who've done a thousand times

yet the two of you were left unaware of the guests and who'd

be joining the dinner tonight

Lance's breath was taken away seeing you

wearing this gorgeous emerald dress, his favorite color

a set of emerald earrings and necklace adored your skin

he had bought you those jewels

Adjusting his pants he has calm him down

Lance couldn't help it, he always loved seeing you wear

what he bought you especially with how gorgeous

you made the pieces

noticing the movement your red wine lips tip up

you tease that you'll take care of that later

arriving to the dinner Lawerence meets you at the door

Kissing both cheeks and then hugging his son he ushers

you to the dinner table

Lance and his father talk, stepping into the room you freeze

coming face to face with a client you've been out with

multiple times but stopped when you noticed that he knew Lance

Lawerence clocks the reaction immediately but chooses not to

mention it

your stiff the entire dinner, waiting for the other shoe to drop

but it never does until dessert

Lawerence is the one who brings it up about how your client

keeps giving you these looks, he fakes the image

of a worried father, that his son's woman was being eyed like meat

Lance tells his father it's fine but he ignores Lance's words

The client just laughs saying he does know you but it's a secret

the man winks, you feel your stomach twist in knots

Lance's hand molding with yours squeezes it

Rage is forming Lance's usually indifferent face

it scared you how easily he could flip

Lawerence hums saying you probably knew each other since

your an escort

the sound of silverware on china stops, eyes moving to you

Lance licks his lips, cranes his neck ands sits back in his chair

Lawerence asks if he is wrong the air in the room changing

it was no longer relaxed, but a spoon could cut the tension

dropping your head you whisper that he's not wrong

He asks you if his son is a client as well and that he hopes

he pays his whore well

Lance slams a hand on the table furious at his father calling you that

Defends you, but you just settle a hand on his back

you whisper that you're leaving

Lance tries to follow you but men in black swarm him

refusing to answer his calls, texts, even knock on your door

fed up one day you rip the door open, ready to yell

but you snap your mouth shut seeing the large frame

of Lawerence Stroll standing in your doorway

Asks if you'll invite him which you do

slaps an envelope of money on the table

telling you that you need to disappear and never return

he slides a black box to you

you hate the joy and hope bubbling in your chest

tells you that you can marry Lance

that you had...tainted him for prospects of marriage

you can't help the laugh that escapes about you tainting Lance

he was long tainted before you bedded him

Lawerence watches as you grab the box, flipping it open

it was gorgeous

a small round emerald with tiny little diamonds around it

making the jewel look like a flower on your finger

Lawerence shakes his head and nods at a guard at your door

Lance stands there, eyes and hair wild looking like he hasn't

slept

Neither of you care for the audience as you launch yourselves

at one another

Lance has a few tears escape but hides them as he buries his

face in your neck

whispers how much he loves you as he holds you close

Lawerence might not approve of your relationship

but this one was one that Lance chose

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felixschokehold · 1 year

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I would love Caius headcanons for Caius x human reader! Just maybe some general headcaons for if he had a human mate! Thank you 💕

Oh, dear. First, sorry this reply is so long lmao. I have a lot of thoughts and no self control.

Well, you see, I see Caius as a very cruel, cold creature. In my mind, he's the one that really twisted the twins into the cruel being they are today. His heart is closed off to anyone he crosses paths with and does not care who he hurts.

But...

If Caius had found a human mate, there would be many hesitations in his cruel actions.

At first, I imagine he may be extra cruel to them out of fear of his own emotions. Whether this be in criticizing who they are or what they like, it's just up to his mood. But, he doesn't show physical cruelty, which is the first sign that this human is special.

Caius either recognizes immediately he's somehow 'accidentally' formed a mating bond with a human, or he doesn't recognize his emotions at first and all the kindness and softness he suddenly wants to start expressing repulses him.

Aro and Marcus, of course, know immediately and try to have one of the guard constantly assigned to the human in case Caius gets frustrated and tries to take it out on his mate. But this triggers a jealousy in Caius and in his own selfishness, he starts to keep his mate present with only him. His behavior isolates the human mate for a while until they have a mild break down over suddenly being cut off from everyone; they fear that perhaps everyone has suddenly started to dislike them, or perhaps there is something wrong with them that the other guard don't want to be around.

This causes Caius some distress and this is where I see him first beginning to actually outwardly show any softness. Perhaps it's just him offering a tissue for the human to wipe their tears away, or maybe if Caius is feeling brave, a comforting hand on their shoulder.

But, his words stay short. "That is not the reason you have not seen your friends," would be all he'd say.

Caius, feeling bad (as he should) for this, tries to push his jealousy aside and allow his human mate to be social again. And this activates something more in him; seeing his mate smile and have fun thaws his heart. Day by day, little by little, but he never shows any outward tellings of this.

Not until he can't take holding back anymore. Just one, small impulse of kindness (see also: affection) would be all it would take for his human mate to realize their feelings are requited; a small kiss on the forehead before they retire to their room to sleep, a gift of a beautiful piece of jewelry, or even Caius sending a guard out to bring back the human's favorite meal.

After that, it's history.

Caius may fight feeling human emotions but once he hits that turning point, he begins to melt like butter in a microwave.

Click below to read about my headcanons after they fall completely in love and he no longer holds back.

Caius loves to show off his mate with nice, shiny things. Which means he showers them with gifts. Dresses, rings, bracelets, necklaces, earrings. Shoes; heels, sneakers, boots, you name it. Dresses and skirts and jumpsuits and coats. Anything he would like to see on his mate, or that his mate wants, they get.

Does the human mate have glasses? Welp, here's a new pair with blood diamonds imbedded in them. Ope, here's a pair made of pure gold or silver. Oh, they hate wearing glasses? Here's money for lasik.

Every single thing Caius thinks his mate could ever need will be brought into the castle, which may cause some tension. There is no need to leave, everything will be delivered right to your door, darling.

Now, while other Volturi members are around, he would likely act casual. He may hold their hand or tuck their hair behind their ears, but when they're alone, there isn't a moment where his mate isn't in his arms or his lap.

I also see him biting frequently as a show of affection. Clawing. Squeezing. Pinching.

But oh, do not get him jealous. He will attempt to have anyone he sees as a threat tossed aside. His mate has to reign him in and scold him frequently; "Stop trying to get Felix to rip Demetri to pieces and set him on fire. Demetri laughed at a joke I made, he didn't grab my ass".

Ah, the tense romance of it all. Soft, fragile human frequently scolding Caius and putting him in his place as he pretends to be the scariest, meanest monster one can ever dream of.

And he is, of course.

Just not to his mate.

#my post #own post #ask #request #reply #caius #caius volturi #headcanon #caius headcanon #i hope you like it T_T #i am so sorry it's so long aaaaa sd;ljahdjkha lmfao #i had more in the second half written but my dog jumped up in my lap and erased a bunch of it and almost closed out of the window lmao #requested headcanon

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teary-eyed-tiaras · 1 year

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They're all gonna laugh at you part 2

Tw death, blood, bullying, abuse

The students gathered around Matt's corpse, unaware he had died just a few moments earlier, foolishly clinging to the hope he had actually just passed out.

A few grabbed his shoulders and tried to shake him awake, others snapped their fingers and yelled his name in hopes he would spring back to life.

Nothing came though, Matt remained a cold emotionless corpse, blood still gushing like a fountain from where the bucket had struck him.

Suddenly, the crowds attention broke from Matt, distracted by the loud bang of the big doors to the school yard being thrust open by an invisible force.

In the door way stood a familiar bloody figuire mostly cast in shadow, illuminated only by the fancy purple and blue prom lights reflecting off the mirror ball above, his normal nervous and polite smile twisted into a scorned frown. He trudged through the gymnasium, paying no attention to the baffled looks of his peers. They just stood there in dumbfounded silence at his presence as Jon stepped onto the stage with out a word.

Standing in the exact spot where the blood had been dumped, He shut his eyes tightly and like magic, flashes of pain and torment played on a loop in his minds eye. Twisted memories filled with agony, depression, lonliness, and spite polluted his thoughts and clouded his judgement. The bathroom, the bullying, the bucket, the blood that even now was dripping down his body and staining the floor. All of it, creating the perfect cocktail of rage.

He began to heavily breathe, the more memories played back in his head the more his anger bubbled like a broth in one of his papa's special iron pots. Voices that had they not come from his head he surely would have thought belonged to some one else started to play over top his memories. "They're all gonna laugh at you!" "Plug it up! Plug it up!" "Open your heart! Let jesus in!" "And Eve was weak!" "The curse of blood!" "Heaven hates a sinner!", the voices whirled around and blended together, layering on top of each other until Jon could barely even make out a word.

His eyes began to twitch and he felt an odd tingling sensation in his eyes, like the fizzing in a pop, but it oddly didn't hurt, in fact, it felt wonderful.

While Jon stood there seething with rage, the others on the stage had begun to step back every few seconds as Jon's silent rage became more and more apparent.

One of the students, Kim, audibly gasped and pointed at the ceiling. Right above Jon a pool of blood had formed, but it wasn't from some kind of leak or an accidental splash, somehow, the blood on Jon had stopped dripping down and began to drip upwards, defying all laws of gravity.

The kids whispered among themselves in panicked disbelief but Jon didn't care.

He was still stuck reliving all of his worst moments, the high lights of his miserable existence. He thought about Matt's untimely death, he thought about Tord's incessant bullying through out the years, The agonizing lonely night's he spent locked inside a prayer closet because he messed up a hymn, the complete unfairness of it all when Jon had tried nearly everything he could to be a good, kind, god fearing person yet still was given nothing but abuse in return. Sixteen years of abuse and torment, and for what crime? Standing out.

Jon screamed, a deep primal scream from the depths of his soul that pierced through the stunned silence of the crowd and made their blood run cold. Years later when recounting the events of the Black prom incident, survivors still found his scream impossible to describe and most of theme didn't even want to try. With the scream came an unstoppable force, stronger than a thousand men and lighter than air. It pushed all the students in front of Jon off the stage and into the crowd. Jon had finally hit the breaking point and there was no turning back.

Still in shock from the scream, everyone rushed towards the doors but Jon just forced them shot. One poor kid even tried to force his arm through to stop it but all that did was break his arm in half. It was a bit difficult to keep them all shut with the constant screaming distracting him and people pouding on the door but he eventually managed to stay focus. Head master Hargreaves desperately yelled for everyone to just stay calm and stay away from the doors but was drowned out among the sea of terrified teenagers. Bing poked his head out from behind a floor length curtain, holding the AV clubs video camera, recording the whole spectacle.

Jon could feel the presence of a camera somewhere in the room, and that just made him more angry. He stared at the lens and his eyes widened with recognition, recalling a boy in the locker room filming him with the exact same camera. Recognition and sadness soon turned fury, and with a simple gaze a crack began to crawl up the lens. The next thing Bing knew one of the refreshment tables was soaring through the air right towards him and before he could even scream the table slammed him against the wall, crushing him to death.

Jon looked at the shiny disco ball on the ceiling, he imagined the hollow center of the ball, picturing himself presssing on the inside of it with all of his strength until the ball combusted, sending glass shards every where, including the students faces.

Their teacher, Mark Desjarden, watched silently in the center of the room, too terrified to even say anything. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, innocent, tiny, jesus loving Jon White was killing fellow students and faculty members with out any hesitation. Mark tried to screech but felt the presence of something gripping his throat and hoisting him into the air. Mark looked at Jon with the pleading hopelessness of some one on death row but Jon remained perfectly still, his frown permanently locked in place and his eyes devoid of soul.

Against all odds though, there seemed to be a small spark of recognition for jon, much similar to the camera.

He remembered just how sweet Mark had been to him, he was the only person to ever consistently show him kindness in his life. He had stopped the attack in the locker room, encouraged Jon to come out of his shell, and even hugged him when he showed up at the dance. He was the closest thing to a ally Jon ever had.

So, in a brief moment of mercy, Jon threw Mark to the side of the room and shifted his focus to a fire hose in the corner, untwisting it very slowly. Water exploded out of the nozzle towards his class mates, ruining their clothes and hair and even rupturing one of the girls ear drums. Then like big pythons, wires came from the rafters, some of them wrapping themselves around the students feet and yanking them across the floor. A few more came down and ripped themselves in half, causing sparks to shoot out everywhere and descend on the helpless teens. The nozzle then turned towards the ground and created a massive puddle.

Mark laid on the gym floor, holding his newly sprained arm, confused as to why he would go through all that effort just to spray some kids and make a puddle before it finally dawned on him. Wires, water, electricity. Holy shit. "Everyone get off the floor!" Mark screamed, jumping onto a chair. Headmaster Hargeaves was immediatley electrocuted as well as around sixty other students who didn't hear Mark's screams among the chaos. Some of the students who did however pulled out the bleachers to run up and hopefully bust the windows to get out. Their plan soon proved to be fault though because upon stepping on the first row, the bleachers began to rumble and shake on their own, Opening and closing over and over again, swallowing and crushing students like they were the gnashing teeth of a giant monster. Things were not much better for the ones who made it to the top either, the constant rattling made it nearly impossible to stand and everyone either fell down to the bottom breaking something or fell in between the rows and were crushed.

Outside of the Gymnasium, Edd was pressed up the window watching everything, Hellucard saw him and screamed for his help right before falling and getting his legs chopped off by the closing rows. Edd was so startled it actually knocked him off the pile of boxes he was standing on to peak through the windows. Knees buckling from pain and clenching his newly broke wrist, a panicked Edd got up and ran to the first phonebox he saw to call for help. "999, what's your emergency?" "You have to help me! I'm at the Ewen prom and I-" Edd paused, unsure of what to say, if he tried to describe what he saw of course nobody would come. He could of been pranking them, Nobody would ever believe what he saw. "I don't know how to describe it but people are locked inside the gymnasium and i think i just saw the power go out and kids are screami..." Edd's word's trailed off.

The operater begged for more detail but edd heard something that rendered him speechless, the screams of the students transforming from ones of terror into pure agony. He then noticed a disntinct orangish glow illuminating his backside and spilling onto his shoulder. A horrified Edd slowly turned around, dropping the phone in shock, the entire Ewen high school Gym was now on set ablaze with five hundred people trapped inside.

Candles had been knocked over and lit the curtains on fire which eventually spread to everything else that was flamable. Jon had began to throw flaming objects at students, Laurel had even tried to take off her stilletos in an attempt to dodge them better but stumbled and caught the tip of her dress on fire. Jon found it quite humerous seeing her twirl around in it and flail her arms all about while she screeched at the top of her lungs. No wonder people picked on him so much, tormenting the weak and helpless was so much fun! Just barely dodging flames, Paul and Patryk attempted to hide under a table for cover but jon quickly spotted them and threw it against the wall. When they tried to stand up and run away he forcefully knocked them over onto their faces, and when they tried to get up he forced them to stay back down.

Suddenly, a door to one of the schools hallways swung open and a stampede of badly wounded and half dead prom goers raced for the door. Pushing and pulling on their class mates to get ahead, completely unaware that just below their feet, Patryk and Paul were being stomped on.

Their pleas for help and cries of pain went ignored, as they continued to have sharp high heels crush their spines and step on their throats until they were both dead on the floor. Jon walked back down the stage, carefully keeping the flames and electricty at bay with his powers. Larry had collapsed in jon's way by accident, unable to stand from the pain. Jon just slid him out of the way with all the carelessness you'd expect from some one sweeping up litter and continued on his way. By the time Jon had left the gym, you couldn't even tell if you were looking at a school or the deepest pit of hell.

The fire department soon arrived and Jon realized that although the school was burning, his job was not quite done yet. "They'll put out my fire" Jon thought "We can't let that happen". Steadying himself so he wouldn't let the adrenaline rush of revenge make him lose focus, he proceeded crush every fire hydrant on the block like they were tin cans. Jon was so proud of himself he didn't even notice the tears welling at in his eyes in between maniacal chuckles. For the first time in jon's life he felt free, then, he felt a familiar pair of judgemental eyes on him. He turned to see, Tord glancing back at him from the passenger side of Tom's car, eyes wide as saucers from pure cowardice as they sped down the street away from the massacre.

Jon furrowed his brow and frowned, still seething and unsatisfied from his rampage. He slowly walked after them, knocking down lamp posts and forming cracks on the pavement with every step.

This still wasn't over.

Not by a long shot...

#eddsworld #ew #eddsworld neighbors #ew neighbors #ew jon #eddsworld jon #ew fanart #eddsworld fanart #eddsworld au #ew au

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madraleen · 22 days

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Bungo Stray Dogs - Kafka Asagiri/Sango Harukawa Volumes 9-10: A Commentary; the one where I look beyond Dazai's pretty face for a sec (*anime spoilers and manga spoilers up to ch.114)

-AN ATSUSHI-AKUTAGAWA COVER, LET'S GOOO (it's so pretty)

-i feel bad for akutagawa re: how dazai treats him, i really do. it's not like chuuya who can give it back just as good. aku-kun is like an open wound when it comes to dazai

-the agency and port mafia have flip phones and mr richman francis out there be using The Iphone

-IS THAT ODA IN THE BACKGROUND WHEN DAZAI TALKS TO KYOUKA! oh this is PERSONAL for dazai, damn

-i know they all have similar hands, but there's something about aku-kun's big frilly sleeves that makes his look extra elegant

-it's sweet how double black bicker very wittily, very creatively, and the new double black mostly just call each other variations of "idiot"

-"the painful words of the past have essentially nothing to do with who you are."

-this is such a silly comment, but there's this panel where dazai sits talking to kyouka and he has one foot firmly on the ground and one on his toes and that's such a small detail and i love it?? that they included such a small thing??

-genuinely, at least in my experience from watching it the first time, in the prettiness and novelty of the anime, the depth of the characters and of the plot flies over your head a little. yes, shenanigans, absurdity etc etc, but bsd is so much more than that, and it's so much easier to take that in when reading the manga, when you can sit with the panels.

-atsushi and aku-kun are so babies when they fight together, i can't :") someone protecc them

-HOW DOES EVERYONE HAVE SO MUCH CHEMISTRY WITH EVERYONE, WHAT IS THIS CAST

-akutagawa always saving atsushi's ass, smh

-three consecutive atsushi bubbles are just "...!" and i love that. sometimes all you can say is "...!"

-"conquered herself," i like that

-I SEE YOU IN THE SAME PANEL WITH DAZAI, FUKUZAWA! REMEMBER YOUR BLACK SHEEP SON DAZAI, FUKUZAWA?! YOU BETTER REMEMBER HIM, FUKUZAWA!

-the fact that it took until vol.9 to explain why atsushi can now control his skill

-ATSUSHI GRABS KYOUKA-CHAN'S HEAD TO HUG HER, LMAO

-AKUTAGAWA LOOKS SO SMALL AND BABY IN DAZAI'S POV, A LITERAL CHILD OMG!

-the way atsushi is genuinely happy or sad for others.

-no wait, is kenji-kun saying cheers with a tomato?? yosano with an entire bottle?? who's holding a freakin jug???

-dazai, from the time he met atsushi-kun: ah yes, this new stray will be perfect for my ex stray

-FYODOOOORRRRR

-on their DAYS OFF, the agency flocks to the agency building's cafe. sit on that for a minute.

-"DAZAI-CHAN"

-THE LOVELY WAITRESS SMACKED DAZAI-CHAN'S HEAD RIGHT ON THE TABLE AHAHAHAHA

-listen, i don't want bad things happening to the agency, ever. but also, anything that discombobulates mr i-can-predict-everything-i'm-300-steps-ahead dazai-chan makes me happy.

-it's sweet how atsushi goes "dazai-san!" in his moment of panic when he sees the bartender's cut finger. miss doctor is right there, but atsushi calls to his number one senpai first, you know?

-you really do see the "anemic" part of fyodor, it's more pronounced than in the anime

-the trauma is strong with this one (*atsushi-kun and the orphanage director)

-dude, this is actually difficult to read. it's actually hard to read. (*the director's treatment of atsushi)

-it's just. it's so twisted, but atsushi and akutagawa are so good for each other. they're terrible *to* each other, but because of who they are as people, their natural behavior enables each other to save themselves from themselves.

-atsushi to aku-kun: "are you going?" no, he's going to hang around for tea and therapy. what kind of question is that, bb?

-there's something about dazai. you could say he's jaded. you could say he's calculating, sus, desensitized, moving strings. his guide to living is oda's guide to living, but. but there's still something so intrinsically nurturing about him. something so delicately caring. idk, that's how i perceive him.

-idk, i think one of the themes that comes out of bsd is "i'm not gonna save you; only you can save you; but you won't have to be alone while you save yourself." 'cause there's always a "we" implied in bsd. in every character's loneliness, there's a "we" that they belong to, there's people behind them, backing them up, reaching out in their clumsy, convoluted, twisted or unconscious ways.

-this is a complexity that's so important to me. "you were in hell and hell raised you right" and "you need to acknowledge both of these things, but you don't have to forgive any of it." it's a terrible thing to acknowledge, that something decent in you was created or reinforced because of something horrible that was done to you. it's bone-chilling. it's so important to me that atsushi can still cry/is allowed to cry/allows himself to cry over the death of his only (barbaric, unforgivable) father figure, even if he hated him, even if he can't forgive him, because he was such a huge part of his life, and that he doesn't have to explain why he is crying, if it's confusion or shock or relief or loss or all of those and then some; he can just cry.

and atsushi asks dazai what he's supposed to feel, and dazai doesn't tell him how to feel. he only gives him the facts. "you know what you know, an unforgivable and barbaric experience. here’s what you don't know, who that man was - not the monster looming in your mind, but an actual person. take that and do what you want with it. he was your father figure, and people usually cry when their fathers die, but it's you who gets to decide if that's you, if you consider him worth crying over." and atsushi doesn't have to decide. he can just allow himself to feel his feelings, without explaining them to us.

and i think that's very dazai of dazai too, 'cause that's what dazai does. he does his machinations and brings people where he wants them, but at the end of the day, the choice of what they do with their circumstances is always theirs. dazai makes highly highly educated guesses, but he doesn't *know*, he can't account for the unpredictability of humans, he can only adapt to it. he brought akutagawa where he needed him to be, but the choices were akutagawa's, from the moment they met. he brought kyouka where he needed her to be, but her choice to save the city was still hers. you could argue that they didn't have real choices since dazai brought them to a point where there could only be one inevitable outcome given their characters, but that's not true; isn't it dazai who says early on that there's always a choice? i don't remember, but there's always a choice. it's who they are that makes their choice inevitable (and in line with dazai's calculations), so in a sense it's a free choice that's slave to the characters' nature (my aot is showing).

-i have a soft spot for trench coat-less dazai, 'cause it's so casual. just chillin'. just botherin'. no hardships.

-i find it incredibly charming that out of work aku-kun is dressed in more casual clothes and not his usual outfit

-i'm sorry, higuchi is lovely. i don't know if it's her by herself, or that she acts this way for aku-kun of all people, but she's lovely.

-higuchi considers atsushi a "seasoned" foe, aw. seasoned. little baby tiger

-like, at this point "jinko" is just the port mafia's pet name for atsushi. not insulting or derogatory or anything.

-*shakes fist* FYODOOOOOR (right now he's one of my favorite antagonists)

-"HE IS SOULLESS. A VAMPIRE." lol, mori looks like "bitch what"

-FYODOR IS GNAWING ON HIS FINGER, IS HE DRAWING BLOOD, IS THAT WHAT HE IS DOING, IS HE ACTIVATING *IT*

-oh come now, he calls himself anemic too, SURELY (in retrospect) this is some kind of blood-related clue?

-oh, even i don't like this, smashing a bottle on fyodor's head. too demeaning

-FYODOR'S FACE AT HIS WET HAT

-if villain why so pretty, fyodor? hm?

-if villain why so funny, fyodor? hm?

-HE CUT HIS FINGER ON A PIECE OF GLASS. it's blood-related, it is.

-man, i can't wait to rewatch the anime with the benefit of hindsight

-seriously, maybe he transfers his consciousness to others via blood and that's why he's anemic and that's how he communicates with "the rats" when he's locked up. i mean, have we even seen a "rat"? maybe they're all fyodors, I DON'T KNOW (have we seen a rat?). maybe the crime is killing fyodor and the punishment is getting more fyodors, I DON'T KNOW

-WHAT IF HE IS NOT ENTIRELY LYING, OR LYING ABOUT LYING, "CONSCIOUSNESS AND SPACE," TRANSFERRING HIS CONSCIOUSNESS THROUGH SPACES IE PEOPLE'S BODIES- ch.114 has made me lose my mind

-imagine calling fyodor "stupid." how embarrassing for ace

-OOOH, fyodor knows about ALL the port mafia skill users oh no.

-whose blood is this, even? is it the kid's blood? it could very well be fyodor's blood, his hand is blocked by the kid's head. i trust nothing.

-wait... fyodor is "soulless"... and tells the kid "may your soul find salvation"... coincidental soul references? I TRUST NOTHING

-i thought the read would go by faster, but no, i actually need time to process, even though i already know the story

#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs manga #manga commentary #this got deep for a minute there

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mirceakitsune · 1 year

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I do NOT justify what I think, feel, or create to anyone

I want to make something clear in very direct words for today's cult of a society: I do NOT justify myself for what I think what I feel or what I create, especially not under pressure or under threat. I need no thought passport from and for anyone: I owe no information or explanation to any individual or platform or government, especially because some twisted minds think certain content has special meaning associated with remote harms in their paranoid minds. I can draw or render whatever perfectly normal or completely crazy thing I want if I feel like it, I can freely share what I think feel or make with whoever I want, I can be whoever I want and was born being… you own nobody and the rights to their mind, period.

I have no obligation to trust anybody I don't feel like trusting… particularly not anyone who's looking to take away my rights and freedom, especially corrupt oligarchs now playing the role of popes while hailed as saviors by the very people they're ripping off. I don't need to know or care how your mental triggers work: I don't have nor comprehend them, I can see an image of the most horrible stuff and just scroll past it. I respect that some don't work this way and are more affected by what they put their eyes on, until the moment their sensitivity threatens my right to exist as a being with individual thoughts and creative freedom: If one's "empathy" and diseased complex thinking spiral to the point of going crazed tyrant, it's time for some spirits to be crushed and desensitized in tears, because the rest of us aren't going to live in a hell of angry authoritarian children harassing us everywhere we go because some have too many feelings and can't keep it to themselves! At that point fuck feelings, you're gonna be made into a man sonny: Here's your ticket to Ukraine for treatment soldier, go shove your nose up a few dead bodies scattered on the streets till your empathic condition has been cured.

I'm sickened by the way complete strangers, including the owners of large services or politicians to the comedy of it all, address me as if they're my parents / brothers / children and entitled to my trust whereas I'm obliged to understand their culture. I'm sorry but what hole in the ground did those people crawl from and who the fuck are you? I don't even know you nor need to, at this point I actively don't want to nor want anything to do with your demented world! You think just because I exist I need to be in line with your choir and part of some fashion, be it far-left or far-right or any other woke trash I need to pick from the official lists of ideologies? I feel and believe only what I personally experienced, which was rather isolated from society and other people thank goodness for that! if you think using every direct or indirect method imaginable to endlessly harass and control and interrogate me is going to change that, you're upping what you see here every single time.

My only obligation in this shit world is to not practically and realistically harm others: No going out on the streets mugging or pick-pocketing folks to steal their belongings, no kidnapping punching stabbing shooting poisoning or creepily touching people, and as far as the internet goes no hacking of accounts or making bomb threats… the list goes on for similar common sense stuff. Those clearly justified things are the only actual obligations me and everyone else have: Beyond this we have zero! I'm not obliged to understand anyone's culture and whatever struggle for the "common good" (WTF) they feel I need to be involved in… in turn you aren't obliged to understand me, in fact I actively want people to not truly understand me as any info they have can be used against me by the enemy.

This is an issue of concept and principle, something I know few people these days have instead of wrongly thinking they do: I will be up in arms over it even if it's things I'm not into or downright dislike. Stuff like toddler / very young cub porn is in fact on that list, not to mention death or gore which fuck that shit: It's really not my thing if I'm being completely honest… yet I will defend it too to the death, because just as they can judge and attack those that like it so can their judgmental mind turn against me if the random paranoia already in their brain ever gets rewired, and I'm not gonna play around with monkey brains to find out how this shit works just so I can briefly imagine "maybe I won't be next on the list".

Thing is that the more people try to stop me or interrogate me over things I normally wouldn't even think about if I didn't hear them from others, the more it makes me want to create those things just to spite them. I'm starting to feel that if I don't make my art offensive toward whatever is in fashion today I'm wasting the effort, this doctrine shit actually pushed me into feeling like that. Which sucks because I wish I could at least just focus on what I truly like doing… but hey, if even thoughts are a weapon in some medieval ideological war to you, may as well mix them up and play along a bit!

To sum it up: If I feel like it I can draw swastika dick monsters wearing a "black face" yelling the holocaust never happened while fucking 7 babies and their parents at once: Don't look if you don't like it, none of your or the world's business ootherwise. Capiche?! Of course I likely won't draw that in particular as it's seriously not my thing, plus I don't want the simpletons thinking it must be something I truly believe if I made a drawing about it… that's just to say it is my right to create whatever insanity I'd want free of your hateful judgment.

Was going to talk about the shithole Patreon and more have been turning into, but I ended up writing this instead so best left for another time if still necessary. Just yeah; I've more than reached the end of my rope with whatever alien society is out there beyond my bedroom window… if there's no way we can let each other exist any longer, best I don't speculate.

#rant

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fang-natic · 3 years

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hide and seek

<omega!tsukishima x top!m reader>

author's notes: i jacked off, did some algebra, and then speedran this in three hours or something. i have two exams to prepare for. what am i doing

cw: noncon, a/b/o dynamics, locker room, semi-public, breeding, creampie, knotting, humiliation, light bondage, plugging, virginity loss, degradation, biting, mentions of blackmail at the end

He tried so hard to hide it. Took on this superior, know-it-all sporty persona and limited how many people he really talked to, but you could tell the moment you laid eyes on him. Even despite how he acted, you could tell he wasn't anything like the proud beta he claimed to be.

Maybe that's why you wanted him. You don't usually care, you're popular enough that you could have any omega you wanted, but the fact that he bothered hiding it made him desirable. That's why you corner him in the locker room one day, slamming him against the metal and kissing him before he knew what was happening, and by the time he realized you were already ripping away his shorts and boxers.

"Y/N-!" He grunts, struggling against you as you grab his small cock, tugging on it ruthlessly as he fights back a groan. "W-what are you-"

"You really thought you could hide it from me, didn't you? Tsukishima-chan," You growl, twisting your hand and making him cry out. "You're not as clever as you think, omega."

His face pales, anger and confusion getting replaced by fear in a split second. "I don't know what you're talking a-ah!" He tries to play it off, but you press a finger against his hole and he gasps, back arching. He's tight, as expected of a virgin, but he's already wet - no surprise, given how roughly you're handling him, and your pheromones that no doubt must be working against whatever suppressors he'd been using. You laugh, and press a little harder, and that little bit of pressure is all it takes for your finger to breech him. His walls clamp down on your digit, practically sucking you in, and if that wasn't just more evidence to the secret, slutty omega that he was, you didn't know what was.

The hands clawing at your shoulders aren't so much there to push you away anymore, as they are to help keep him propped up as his legs threaten to give away, leaning against the lockers with eyes closed and filthy sounds escaping his mouth. You lift up one of his thighs to give yourself more access, and thrust into him with two fingers, scissoring slowly so he can feel every inch of the stretch, can hear his own slick squelching with every slow push. Two fingers wouldn't be nearly enough to prep him, but you always liked it tight. As you press up against his prostate, his back arches, and he moans wantonly into the thankfully empty locker room.

His eyes shoot open when he hears his own whorish voice echoed back at him, and he slaps a hand over his mouth. Just as quickly, you grab his wrist and wrench it away, claiming his mouth in a rough kiss and biting his lip bloody, licking the metallic taste off of his tongue.

"Don't hold back, Tsukishima-chan," You croon as you pull away, a string of saliva still connecting to his mouth, as he blinks dumbly. "You should show off how much of a slutty omega you are. It's the least you can do after lying to everyone, isn't it?"

"M'not an omega." he insists, voice trembling.

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, right. And this little pussy isn't aching to get bred." You punctuate that sentence with a sharp press, digging into his prostate, and he actually squeals, knocking his head against the metal as you rub relentlessly at that little bundle of nerves, his tiny cock sticking straight up and leaking. You laugh, and pull your hand out in one sharp movement, before grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and dragging it up over his head, wrapping it around his wrists to keep them tied behind his back.

You turn him over, pressing his bare chest and face against the cool metal and making him yelp, gripping him by the bindings around his wrists. They're not very tight, and he could break free if he tried, but he's surprisingly pliant to your touch, and his back is flushed so prettily. His legs are weak, so you have to help prop him up with one hand on his hip.

"Still think you're not an omega?" You whisper right in his ear as you pull out your cock and line it up against his slick hole. You don't bother giving him time to reply as you force yourself in, with one powerful push. It's not easy, because you definitely didn't prepare him enough, and it's tight enough to almost hurt. But the sight of his face, his mouth dropping open in a gasp, tensing up and then going limp with pain even as his dick stayed erect, was enough to have you setting a ruthless pace. Each deep thrust slams against his prostate, rattling the metal lockers, making his eyes roll up; he couldn't even moan, and judging by the way his breathing was stuttered and erratic, you could guess that you were basically fucking the breath out of him.

"Nn-no-sto-" He manages, and you laugh and reposition your grip on his hips, driving deeper. "Hurts-"

"Don't lie to me," You snap, landing a sharp slap against his ass, and he cries out. "Look at you. You're taking me so perfectly, your tight hole is practically begging to get bred. It's practically milking me." His pale skin somehow gets even redder with your words. "You should thank me for breeding your dirty pussy. Go on, say 'thank you'."

He sinks his teeth in his bottom lip in resolute refusal. What a stubborn brat. With a growl, you land another slap against his other cheek, turning it bright red, and his shoulders actually shake with a sob, though you can feel his ass tighten up at the same time. "Well? Tsuki-chan? I can't hear you. I won't let you cum until you do." To make your point, you reach around and pinch the base of his cock, still dripping pathetically against his stomach. "Say 'Y/N-senpai, thank you for breeding my dirty pussy.' If you're so smart, you should be able to say that, shouldn't you?"

He's tearing up behind his glasses, struggling to focus on you. "Puh-please," He stammers, "I-I won't tell anyone, just-"

You click your tongue. "That's not what I told you to say," You tut, and you pull out, sitting down heavily on the bench. You drag Tsukishima down with you, positioning him so he's facing you, cupping his cheeks, and holding him over your waiting cock. "Did I already fuck the brains out of you? Last chance before I tie you up and leave you here for everyone else to find. I don't waste time with disobedient omegas like you."

He shakes in your grip, and you can tell he's having a hard time deciding what to do. Between knowing that he shouldn't be wanting this, that this should be his nightmare scenario, and the fact that he was finally allowing his omega side be satisfied for once, all those brilliant cogs in his head was burning out in a thick haze of arousal. His hips twitch downwards, his body betraying him, and tears finally spill out of his eyes.

"Th-thank you, Y/N-s-senpai," He stutters out. "For b-breeding my dirty pussy."

You smirk, and drag him down. From this position, you're able to fuck him deeper than ever, and his head shoots back in a wail as you bottom out. "That's a good boy." You wrap your arms around his waist and fuck up into him, pulling him down at the same time. His legs lock around your own waist, pulling him closer to you, and he's moaning without restraint now, fully given in to instincts and the sensation of being fucked. From this angle, you can bite marks into his collarbone and chest, and pull his nipples between your teeth, making him moan louder, drool spilling out the corner of his mouth.

When you finally cum inside him, it's enough to send him over the edge too, the sensation of hot seed filling him enough to his cock spurt over his bare stomach. He practically passes out against your chest, face nestled against your shoulder as you pull the t-shirt off of his arms, using it to wipe up the mess he left on his abdomen.

You lay him out on his back on the bench, spreading his legs apart to show off his hole, flushed and almost leaking your cum onto the wood. You chuckle, whipping out your phone to snap a few pictures of the pretty sight, before pulling a silver plug from your pocket and shoving it into his hole. You're tempted to leave him here like this, for all his teammates to find, but the whole point of blackmail was ensuring that you had all the cards to yourself first. You settle for grabbing a spare pair of shorts from your duffle and sliding them on him, before draping the soiled t-shirt over his torso.

You reach up and swipe a thumb at the corner of his eyes, beneath his glasses, clearing away the tears before you go.

#top male reader #dark content #dark fantasy #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #dark haikyuu #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x reader smut #tw noncon #tsukishima x male reader #fang-natic works

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lovequartz · 2 years

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bruise.

ওpairing: farmer!joshua x reader

ওgenre: fluff, angst, within the same realm as g&b

ওwarnings: minor character death mention

ওword count: 768

ওi bruise like a peach and i'm twice as sweet

ওnotes: this is actually a repost of the first fic i wrote for this acc! i privated it because i felt like i could do it better but actually i was way too hard on myself i think it's pretty good i just did some minor grammar fixes but otherwise it's the same!

It's just shy of ridiculous, you think. Trying to stand in the shoes of someone who's a size and a half smaller than you are. Not that you are, trying that is, to squeeze into her strappy summer time sandals. The ones that she'd wear to the beach, on a date with her husband, the sea breeze tugging at her skirt. Or her everyday sneakers, worn down with love and motions of her errands. Not even her house slippers, gray and cozy with cartoon-ish cat ears embroidered on them. The way she spun in the kitchen with them and was held in his embrace.

You'd never take something that didn't belong to you, never try to force yourself into a puzzle piece shape that wasn't your own.

When you first arrived in this little seaside town nobody really paid you any mind. Sure outsiders were a bit of a curiosity and new faces were a treat, but as you kept to yourself your new face wasn't so new. It wasn't until you acquired a job on Joshua Hong's farm that the town's people started to take an interest in you.

The rumors started as whispers. A hushed murmur to your left and a quiet mumble to your right. You hadn't noticed they were speaking about you at first, never one to gossip you didn't quite care what the older women across the marketplace were talking about. Until you hear one say "It's shameless really," and the other nods in agreement. "Making moves on a widower, she has no sense of empathy. Sweet Elle, the poor girl's probably rolling in her grave." Their words are sharp and twist into your gut like a silver blade. Is that really what everyone thought of you? The consideration is enough to make you blanch.

You spend the next few days locked in your room, lying to Joshua about a sudden cold that gave you an awful headache. The headache, unfortunately, wasn't a lie.

He's understanding, and leaves soup outside your door and tea brewed by Vernon's herbalist 'friend'. A note wishing you health signed with his name and a smile, your heart clenches.

Reluctantly you realize that you can't ignore the world forever and you return to work. Harvest season is fast approaching and the more hands the better.

With Joshua being at the market today it's your responsibility to take care of the trees. The fruit that hangs from them isn't quite ripe but they're picturesque none the less. Pruning the branches as you listen to the soft sounds of nature is rather therapeutic, and the busy work takes your mind off some of the more unpleasant thoughts plaguing your mind.

A slight wobble from the ladder you're currently on pulls your attention away from the tree in front of you. However, your reaction time is delayed when the ladder decides to tip backwards, sending you heels over head. The back of your head knocking against the grass jars you, and you groan loudly, hands coming up to try and soothe the pain.

You hadn't noticed Joshua standing over you until he's helping you into a sitting position, the man's thumb stroking your temple and his other hand resting on your back.

"Do you think you can stand up?" He asks, concern wrinkling his brow. You nod, not really wanting to hear your voice in your already reverberating skull.

Next thing you know you're seated on the couch inside the farmhouse living room. Joshua has a ice pack gently pressed to the back of your head. "Hold that still." He gently urges, lifting your arm up to keep the compress secure. "Got yourself pretty banged up now, didn't you?" The strawberry blonde says, a teasing tilt to his voice. You offer him a grimace in response.

Your left arm and leg respectively have bruises forming, still red from their impact with the ladder and then the ground.

"You bruise like a peach." He notes, not even trying to hide the smirk that tugs at his lips. "Very funny." You murmur, voice dripping sarcasm. "Aren't I?"

His smile brings your heart a bit of warmth, and it gives you some much needed courage. Gossiping grannies unable to mind their own business aren't the ones who get to define your relationship with Joshua. They could never understand the scope of your feelings, and that realization sets you at ease. You lay back into the cushions of the sofa and bask in the warmth of this farmhouse you are lucky to call home and the man in front of you. Grateful for his care.

ওnotes: as always please let me know what you think! im happy i got to repost this i just adore peach farmer joshua <3

#joshua hong x reader #joshua x reader #joshua hong #hong jisoo #caratwritersclub #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen #bee.pollen #fic.

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dreamypqulson · 2 years

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— i’ll be home for christmas

summary: you invite harriet to come to your parents house for christmas to meet them for the first time. although your parent already know about you both and is accepting, she's still nervous because she knows her own parents would never accept your relationship but you're there for her and everything turns out okay.

pairing: harriet hayes x reader

word count: 1500

Your cold hand interlocked with Harriet's jittery one. She was nervous, it wasn't any secret. And she didn't have to tell you for you to realize, you knew from the moment you asked her that she would get all anxious

"Harry" no response. She thought she had answered you but apparently she hadn't. "Harriet" you said, only a little louder, enough to pull her out of her train of thought that was about to crash into a series of everything that could go wrong today.

"What?" she replied. This time she had actually answered you although her voice was very low, almost like she didn't even realize she was talking. "It's all going to be okay" you said, pulling into your parents driveway and suddenly the car filled with negative energy from all the anxiety she was feeling, so much that you could feel it.

You felt terrible having put her in a situation that was so uncomfortable and nervous wracking for her but it had to happen. She had to meet them one day, especially if both you marry each other.

"It's okay. I'm here. They're going to love you. Just be yourself." you gave her hand a little squeeze and just sat there for a moment. You knew your siblings were probably watching you through the window but you didn't care. Right now, you needed to focus on making Harriet feel somewhat relaxed and comfortable.

"What if they don't like me" for the first time in the whole car ride, she had finally produced a full sentence. "Well you don't have to worry about that because I know for a fact that they will."

"I love you, nothing will ever change that. I'll be right next to you the entire time and if you ever feel uncomfortable or need a break, just tell me, okay?" she nodded, that was all you needed to know that she fully understood you.

Yet she was still scared. 'What if right as they saw their daughter with me, with a woman to be exact, they immediately take back they’re acceptance' Harriet thought. All she could think back to was her parents and how they would think so awfully of her if they saw they saw what road she took in her dating like. If her parents were still alive, she wasn't sure she would even be in a relationship with you because of their impact with just their words.

"Ready?" You queried. She only hummed approvingly before getting out of the car. You were her one comfort, she always held your hand whenever she could to feel safe and loved but right now, holding your hand and having everyone see that you two were really in a relationship, that you both really loved each and were the same gender didnt seem to comforting to her.

You knocked on the door, immediately hearing a dog bark. It was definitely home.

Time began to move much slower for Harriet. It was only moments until that door would open and they would see who their daughter has picked up.

The door knob began to twist. Any second now. Then it creaked as it opened.

"Y/n!" Your mother had greeted you with a hug. "Hi mom" you've been so busy with Studio 60 that you've hardly had time to see your family. It was only a brief moment later that she turned to your girlfriend, her smiling never fading away.

"You must be Harriet, y/n has told us so much about you" you blushed. "It's nice to meet you Mrs Y/L/N" you could hear that the shakiness in Harriet's voice has subsided and it must've been we from the way she wasn't greeted any differently than if she were to be a male.

"Please, call me Y/M/N.”

You looked over at your girlfriend before stepping into your house with her following you in. Immediately, you felt a dog right down at your legs. You heard Harriet let out a little giggle. I'm glad she's feeling more comfortable, you thought.

"There's my baby!" You exclaimed, picking up your little dog and kissing it all over it's head. "I feel jealous" the blonde whispered in your ear, earning a belly laugh from you.

By now, your mom had wondered off into the kitchen, leaving you alone with your girlfriend, so, you leaned forward and before she could realize what you were doing, you began repeating what you did to the dog except on Harriet. "Y/n, no! Those lips were just on a dog!" she tried to be stern but her own giggle prevented her from sounding serious.

After a moment of getting carried away, you stopped when you realized where you were "let's go meet the rest of my family, hm?" You immediately saw her tense up so you slipped your cold hand into hers. "It's okay."

Without letting go of her hand, you led her into your kitchen where the rest of your family sat. "Hey! Y/n!" Your dad said, taking off his oven mitts and walked over to hug you.

“And this must be the famous Harriet Hayes!" He pulled Harriet into a hug as well, taking her by surprise. "It's very nice to meet you!" Harriet said with a smile that could charm anyone.

"As for you. We've heard many great things about you!" Harriet looked over and smiled at you when she saw your cheeks flushed red.

After meeting your brother and sister as well, Harriet felt much more at ease. You both sat beside each other at the dining table, your sister on the other side of you while your parents and brother were across from you three.

Your father placed down the last platter of food and you knew the questions would be rushing to Harriet any moment now.

"So Harriet, we would love to hear a little about you." your mother started up the conversation. You squeezed Harriet's hand under the table for that extra reassurance.

“Well, i grew up in Brighton Michigan. I'm one of seven children although i'm the only girl. Harriet is actually my middle name, originally I was Hannah Hayes but there was already a Hannah Hayes in the unison. I also attend church every Sunday" she finished with a breath and the whole time you watched closely to your parents expressions; not once did they seem unimpressed.

"A religious girl I see" your dad said and you let out a laugh, almost a snort. You knew Harriet was going to yell at you for that one later. "Yes, none of my brothers are religious but my mother was a devout Baptist and introduced me to Christianity, she was the one who had me going to church every Sunday."

"You say 'were,' does your mother not believe in that anymore?" Your mom asked and you and Harriet both shifted in your seat. You totally forgot to tell them to not ask about that. "Um" the blonde gulped "My mother died when I was teenager and eventually my dad died as well."

Everyone's face in the room had fell "Oh i'm so sorry, I had no clue" your girlfriend shook her head "It completely alright, you didn't know."

The rest of the dinner had went smoothly, everyone broke into conversation and Harriet got a few questions here and there but nothing she couldn't handle.

"How about we watch a Christmas movie after I finish cleaning up?" Your mother asked and everyone agreed, it was a tradition so really, nobody had a choice.

"We'll be right back, I just have to talk to Harry for a moment" you pulled Harriet around the corner and with a confused expression, she followed you to your old bedroom.

When you finally in your room, you grabbed Harriet by her waist and pinned her against the wall. No time was wasted before crashing your lips onto hers. "Mm" she hummed at the taste of your sweet lips against her own.

You eventually pulled your lips off of her yet your hands stayed put on her hips. Her eyes stayed shut and you were sure she was going to need a moment to recover. "What was that for? I loved it but what was that for?"

"I'm just so proud of you. And i'm happy that everything's going so well. I just love you so much" she smiled at you, her bottom lip sliding under her top teeth and she bit down so hard that her lip was turning white. "I love you too...so do what you did again."

You let out a chuckle just before putting your lips were they were moments ago, kissing her lips hungrily like you didn't just eat dinner moments ago. She let out a throatily groan and pulled at your hair. "Mm okay okay, we have to get back now" you murmured against her mouth, wishing this moment didn't have to end. She sighed and would've been more upset about it if she wasn't at your family's house for the first time.

“Okayyy” she said, dragging out the word. “I love you” she pecked your lips one more time before interlocking her hand with yours “I love you too Hannah Harriet Hayes.”

Taglist: @loverofallthingssarah @goodeday2u @lanawinters-ily @futuremilfcheck @talulahmae @sapphicforsarahh @ahsfan05 @tatelangdonprincess

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#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #harriet hayes #harriet hayes x reader #studio 60 #american horror story #american crime story #ratched #cordelia goode #mildred ratched #sally mckenna #lana winters #billie dean howard #oceans 8 #ally mayfair richards #wlw #wlw fanfic #lgbtq

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angelguk · 3 years

Text

oc is back on her bullshit!!! miss out and about im gonna forget about you!! im so sorry for this part actually. descriptions of oc sleeping with someone who is not jaykay (warning!! infidelity but not really). suppressed feelings on jks side. chayoung is still Suspicious. everyone is now mildly shitty actually. roughly 2k. listen to not gonna cry by emma steikbakken and stranger by tove lo.

titled — fuel to the fire

It's been three days since you last spoke to Jeongguk (and four weeks since your break-up). Not about your relationship or the horrendous state your sudden break-up left you in, or about the fact that Jeongguk had moved on before your heart had even registered the cracks he'd left in his wake. No, not that – none of the actual life changing important stuff, only him briefly mentioning that you needed to hand in your event proposal for the student committee before the deadline approached. It was unbelievably strange to watch the person you'd basically surgically attached to your being behave like a complete stranger. It didn't help that he didn't seemed unfazed approaching you, while you on the other hand actively avoided him and all the usual corners of campus where he liked to lurk (which sucked because those corners were some of your favourites places too). But there he was, ambling to you with an ease that made your gut violently twist, acrid bile slithering up your throat.

He'd spoken so freely, the sound of your name on his tongue a brand on your skin. You'd frozen, heart a wild animal locked in your chest, before you could summon the mettle to look him in the face.

The first thing you noted was that his hair was no longer long. Dark locks cropped short around his ears now and casually gelled back, idle strands playfully framing his face. His features are what you settled on next, eager eyes remapping the sharp slope of his nose, easily identifying the sneaky dimple on his cheek begging to burst free and then shifting down to the dark mark right below his soft pink lips.

Your first instinct was to pull him into your arms but they were frozen, glued to the table beneath you before that blinding rage rose it's head, sparking through your veins the longer you looked at him.

He didn't even seem to realise it, rattling off the list of things you needed to email him for the spring scavenger hunt or else the event could be cancelled (which sucked because that was an idea you had created with Jeongguk and now you were stuck carrying the bulk of the event alone).

Your replies had been curt, blunt as they left your lips before you'd pointedly turned away. Maybe if you had looked a little longer you would detected the lingering gaze he granted your features, how he shuffled on his feet, unsure and hesitant, words on his tongue longing to be released. Eventually he had swallowed him down, mumbled a quick goodbye and wandered off, the hands shoved in the pockets of his baggy jeans aching to hold yours again.

You, however, didn't miss the muffled giggles of girls he passed on his way out, a sick icky feeling clogging your throat. You didn't mind the fan girls when you were dating because you knew Jeongguk was yours and yours alone. But now? When he'd moved on not even a weak after your break-up you didn't know how to feel. Jealous, maybe. Furious, absolutely. For a second, you considered throwing your mini stapler at their huddled heads, weighing the odds of possibly going to jail for assault. But there was no reason to truly justify that reaction, not when Jeongguk was single and apparently available for everyone. But did that feeling still brew inside of you? Turning into something black and vile and vengeful? Perhaps.

And maybe that's why you're here now, the body of some boy pressing against yours, your bare back prickling as the night wind grazes against it. The dress you'd plucked from your closet was criminal, clinging to the dips and rounds of your body perfectly, a silky emerald backless piece that shimmered beneath the soft lights of the porch you'd abruptly accoupled. His name might be Lucas – you may have been able to accurately remember that three drinks ago but you're beyond that now. And it didn’t really matter when all you wanted was for him to fuck you. He's also big and huge, massive shoulders caving you in, and his hands is snaking it's way up your thighs, ginger kisses peppered along the span of your neck.

Which is not what you wanted. Not in a one-night stand at least. You don't want soft and gentle, you want something wild – feral even. Something harsh enough to wipe the memory of Jeongguk's hands on your skin, something bright and fierce and new. Something to make you feel alive again.

Lucas gets the hint soon enough, spurred on by the bold movement of your hand guiding his closer, right between your thighs were you wanted him. Deft harsh fingers on your clit followed, pressing against the damp fabric with no remorse. You couldn't help the whimper that floats from your lips, the tension stringing through your limbs finally alleviated.

"Cute," he murmurs, seemly pleased judging from the broad smile that tugs at his lips. You make a noise of agreement in return, drawing in him for a kiss as the pad of this thumb toys with you. There's the sillage of whiskey on his tongue, something that nearly makes you freeze because you're used to tasting that on Jeongguk. But you beat down that apprehension, a muffled moan breaking past your lips when Luca's tongue mets yours.

"My place?" He suggests, lips glimmering from your lip gloss. You smile, a familiar giddiness bubbling in your chest when he shifts a little, hard bulge bumping into the base of your stomach. You give in a little bit more easily than you normally would have, clinging onto his hand as he guides you out of the party towards the neighboring building. Chayoung and Sieun are going to kill you later for this but you simply can't force yourself to care.

"You're in that frat?" You finally murmur out when he keys himself into the building. Lucas hums, glowing under the moonlight when he smiles at you.

"Mhm, Sigma Chi for life, babe."

Babe. A complete one-eighty from the bunny you'd grown accustomed to.

It hits a little harder when he gets you into his room, the mess unlike anything you'd ever seen at Jeongguk's (he's very anal but his room and how clean it should be, specific down even to the various scents he kept around to ensure the air he breathed was perfect). Lucas was the average frat boy, messy but neat enough that you find yourself naked on his bed a couple moments later, his tongue deep inside of you. Your brain couldn't help but recall the last time a head had settled between your thighs, Jeongguk eager to lick out the pool of cum he'd left there. But this wasn't him and as of five seconds ago you decided you’re no longer allowed to think about him.

Lucas makes it easy, tongue skilled and swift around your clit, a fervour in his movements that leaves you dripping down his chin. Jeongguk evaporates from your mind entirely when Lucas descends on you, his mouth glistening and his tongue tasting of you. His kisses are hungry now, forceful, just what you need. Your palms stray down his wide back, a strange tingle erupting in your gut when your nails dig and he groans right down your throat.

"You're so big," the comment is a mumbled slur, lost in Lucas's mouth. For a second, you think he misunderstands, his hard cock twitching against your thigh. You're actually talking about his shoulders; they're broad, muscles rippling every time he shifts to press you harder into the mattress. You like the weight of him on you, it makes forgetting easier.

But Lucas knows what you're saying, discerning your wandering fingers and clouded eyes well.

"I know," he returns with lopsided smile. "Perks of swimming."

Oh, of course he was an athlete. Maybe you had a type after all.

Before Jeongguk has a moment to resurface Lucas has you in his arms, easily twisting you around so that your face is buried in his sheets. It short-circuits you, brain sparking with how large and huge and strong he feels. The following sudden press of his lips against your ass doesn’t help, your heart thumping loud in your head as your shuffle onto your elbows.

"Good?" Lucas asks, rising to fetch a condom from his drawer.

"Mhm," you return, thighs trembling when he returns. He easily lines himself up with you, the head of his cock pressed into you coaxing a low groan from your throat. The first thrust hurts, probably because you're body isn't as on board with this as you thought. But that changes quick when Lucas's hand slides underneath you, swiftly settling on your clit until you're leaking around his length, skin tight with tension and sweat beading along the length of your back. The stretch feels strange – he's larger than Jeongguk, wider. At first it's too uncomfortable to feel good. Your senses narrow on the sound of your meeting instead, loud and lewd, your pussy squelching with every drag of his cock inside of you. The ripple of your ass helps you relax too, a pleasant almost dizzy feel spreading through your body when Lucas draws you closer, shoving himself deep inside, the whine floating from his lips painting your skin warm. He fucks you hard enough to leave marks, large fingers digger into your hips with every resounding collide of your bodies. You shiver when he finishes, a grimness appearing on your skin. It's vanished by Lucas tugging you close, his mouth light on your lip as he kisses you, cock slowly slipping out.

It feels better the second round. He's perceptive, quickly learning how you like your clit touched, or that you like when his teeth sink into your skin rather hard. You actually cum this time, spread open over his massive strong thighs, his length splitting you open, the stretched welcomed.

You forgot about Jeongguk and your sore heart for a total of two wonderous hours, before your phone starts blaring from your discarded mini-bag on the floor. Lucas is the one that gets it for you.

"Hi?"

"Y/N! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?" Chayoung's tone is aggrieved, wavering through the sound of some song blasting in the background.

"Oh. I left." You hope she gets it, doesn't press any further. But what was Chayoung if not a button pusher?

"WHERE? YOU WENT HOME? WHEN?"

"No, I'm not home. And awhile ago." Lucas is pointedly not listening, pattering through the adjacent bathroom of his room. The pressure ebbs when he turns the tap on loud.

"WHAT?"

"I said I'm not home! And please stop yelling!"

There's a loaded pause. You can feel Chayoung thinking through the line. "Okay... Who are you with?"

"Fine, yes I'll meet you there," you say instead, completely ignoring her question. Lucas is out of the bathroom now, massive and still naked as his knee sinks into the mattress. He crawls to you as you scramble to get out, phone wedged between your shoulder and ear. "Yeah, yeah I know I'm sorry. I'll come get you."

"What the hell are you talking about Y/N? Who are you with?" Chayoung's words are bitter now, stinging as they hit your ear.

"Gimme five seconds, I'll be right there," you return, swiftly cutting the call. Chayoung is going to kill you the second you see her but you'd rather attempt to live through that than Lucas overhearing you gossip about him on the phone with your friend. The man in question is watching you with a chary gaze as you hurriedly tug your dress over your head. "Sorry," you supply, pulling the hem down hard over your butt. "My friend needs me."

He nods slow, strawberry blond locks swaying. He's actually very hot, an observation that has you stilling for a second.

"Cool. See you around, yeah?" His eyes are round and big, bright even – almost like Jeongguk's. That breaks the spell.

"Yeah, see you around." And then you take the chance to flee, bag swung over your shoulder. Except Lucas halts you with a low cough, raising his hand, something bunched up in it.

"You forget this, though." It's your underwear, red and lacy. Your cheeks match the colour of fabric, flushed hot as you pluck it out of his wide palm. Lucas watches you slip them on with a smug smile, one that you should hate but there's a humour in it that blooms through you. He lets you part with a fond squeeze of ass when he gets up to open the door, still grinning.

"See you, Y/N," he says, leaning against the doorframe. He's very tall too, how did you miss that?

"Yeah," you squeak back, eyes shifting from his face with speed. "See you."

He's not Jeongguk, and that's good. He also makes it easy for you to forget about Jeongguk, another plus. And you can't help but wonder as you scurry back to the party, that it might be nice to see him again.

—

That sentiment gets jumbled when Chayoung avidly spills to you later that she'd stumbled into Jeongguk with his hands tangled with another girls, leading her right out of the party as Lucas had lead you. It stings, of course it does, but not as much as the first one. Not when Lucas is in your DMs, his messages sweet albeit corny, and you can still recall the taste of you on his tongue.

But despite everything, even with Jeongguk a new stranger and Lucas's body warming yours, you haven’t truly let go. You can feel it in how you cling to the clothes Jeongguk had left in your closet. He hadn't requested to come pick them up yet, a fact that keeps a wedge in the door you're not sure you can close alone. Your heart still spikes when you see him on campus, and there's a home game coming around the corner that you're longing to go to. Because you still want to see him. Still want to be by his side Sometimes it felt nice to want to forget but you couldn't – not yet at least, not until you know whether he wants to forget about you too.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #bts x reader #bts angst #jungkook scenario

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omniscientwreck · 3 years

Note

Let me combine both of your favorite things! I would love a little thing about Caduceus (in his infinite wisdom and questionable intelligence) trying to give either Essek or Caleb relationship advice that may or may not be actually helpful. Those two wizards are probably too much in their own heads to see what's right in front of them and could use a little nudge. Just imagine both of them going to Caduceus for advice on how they're attracted to the other and Caduceus just sitting there trying to fight to urge to facepalm.

Hello! Thank you for combining my two favourite things into this fic that took way too long but I'm quite pleased with! I hope you enjoy!

In which Caduceus has three conversations with two wizards fighting against a force bigger than either of them.

----------

The first of these conversations Caduceus had was expected. Gardening alongside Essek, teaching him how to sow beauty where destruction had laid waste had been therapeutic for both of them. Caduceus had never given up on the war criminal. It’s difficult to feel no sympathy for someone whose story was written across their face in blank but pleasant stares and a mask of platitudes.

The state he’d been in when they met him at the outpost had filled Caduceus with determination. He’d been as close to a wreck as they’d ever seen him and now kneeling alongside him and looking over to see a small self-satisfied smile as he observed the work they’d done, it feels like they’ve done something right. This second chance had been well earned and he has faith that Essek will continue to earn it for the rest of his days.

This Essek is determined to right wrongs, and he’s started with the garden. He pays careful attention to the plants, always asking if he’s unsure about the compatibility of certain species, and making sure to put them exactly where they tell him. When they work past the point when the sun disappears behind emerald leaves he takes off the gloves Jester had made him and digs his hands into the ground. It seems to bring him peace, it’s good that he’s found any.

Most of the time when they work it’s silent, creases pressed into Essek’s forehead. He sweats through the layers that serve to keep him safe from the heat overhead and always has to be cajoled into taking breaks or drinking water. It reminds him a bit of Yasha.

On the third day, when he’d nearly gone faint Caduceus has to intervene, “You don’t need to hurt yourself to repent you know.”

Essek takes great care to swallow and not choke on the water he’d been sipping, bad timing. The mask comes up again, “I don’t know what you mean.” he states flatly. He knows that Caduceus is smarter than that and it shows.

“Hurting yourself doesn’t change anything. It’s the creation of beauty here that tips your scales, not the destruction of yourself.”

He nods slowly, indigo eyes downcast. “I suppose you’re correct. I have much to atone for Caduceus. There is much work to be done before I will deserve any of the kindness you foist upon me.”

“Hey now, I decide who deserves my kindness. We all do.”

Essek nods again, running a dirt stained hand through his silver hair. It leaves streaks of dirt, Caduceus says nothing.

“It’s difficult to be made aware of your stark moral failings, to learn what it means to truly care for someone again. It’s difficult to care more than you expect and to know what is enough, if anything is.”

His eyes flick behind Caduceus, where he can hear Caleb explaining something to Luc and he understands more than Essek probably wants him to. “You’ll find enough.” Essek looks at him, eyes full of a delicate hope, easily shattered, “He’ll tell you when it’s enough.”

His eyes widen just slightly and a deep blush spreads across his face alongside a smile so small it’s like he doesn’t want to let himself accept the barrage of feelings it holds back. “If.” His voice is small but the weight is heavy in the tone.

Caduceus reaches a hand to cover one of his, “When. Remember, I see things the rest of you don’t.”

Essek smiles wryly at that, voice full of mirth, “Of course Mr. Clay the ever observing.”

They go in for dinner and Essek speaks up a little more, he’s a little more alive. The change is small, but Caduceus notices.

----------

The second conversation is less expected, completely unexpected if he’s being honest. Caleb arrives at the doorstep of the grove one evening around 8 months after they’d last seen each other. “Hallo friend, I hope I am not intruding.”

His smile is easier now, though still restrained by sadness. “Not at all Mr. Caleb you are always welcome here. There should be left overs from dinner, fix yourself a plate.”

Caleb allows himself to be ushered in and fussed over. He tells a few stories of the trial but Caduceus tries to steer away from that particular vein of conversation. It’s raw and it doesn’t look like he’s fully healed. There’s still one catch somewhere that he needs to loose himself from before the smile will be easy and free, before he can walk away from his past and toward the future.

“I am going to Aeor next.”

Ah.

When Caduceus doesn’t say anything he continues, voice laced with trepidation, “I am going to ask Essek to join me.” he wants Caduceus to convince him of something.

“Well, two wizards is better than one.” He eyes Caleb knowingly and the wizard squirms a bit under his gaze.

“It is just, a little strange isn’t it? The directions we are led in.” He trails off again, maybe he’s hoping for wisdom. Caduceus decides he can probably dispense something.

“You’ve never seemed like someone who wanted much to be herded into decisions to me.”

“It’s been a journey.”

Caduceus clears his dish and sets down a teapot, “It’s a journey you’re still on. One that might not have a definite end. Is it worth it to deny yourself happiness because you’re worried about whether you deserve it?”

That caught him a little off guard, copper hair shook a bit as he’d clearly gone a little further than Caleb was expecting. He likes to talk in metaphors so that he can hide from truths later, or at least pretend everything can have multiple meanings. It’s time for Caduceus to stop letting him twist words around in that expansive brain of his until the original meaning is obscured by hypotheticals.

“I cannot tell you what’s right Caleb, but if you came here for a reasonable perspective listen to the one I’m giving you.” He pours the tea and offers honey, “You will never know if you don’t go and I know you better than you think. You don’t like loose ends, not as long as there’s something to learn.”

He nods, staring into tea, they’re so similar and so stubborn that Caduceus can feel the loving annoyance usually directed at his siblings creeping in. “Caleb, stop punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault in the first place.” Caleb nearly interrupts but Caduceus keeps barrelling through, “Self-flagellation won’t get you anywhere, you’ll just end up with regrets and what ifs. Go explore Aeor, forget everything else for a bit. Do that thing the two of you do where you’re finishing each other’s sentences and nobody knows why you’re bothering to speak out loud because it’s obvious you’re thinking the same things.”

Caleb’s smile is smaller now, but lighter. “Ja mein Freunde, I think you will. Thank you for tolerating questions I don’t know how to ask out loud.”

Caduceus smiles back, “I think this will be good. If you need anything while you’re there don’t hesitate to reach out. Stock up on healing, you’ll need it.”

Caleb laughs at that and spends the night, before heading to Zadash the next morning, undoubtedly to clear out Pumat’s stock of healing potions.

----------

The third time this conversation is had it’s his fault. He doesn’t mean to start it, but honestly the situation is getting ridiculous and the sibling feelings Caduceus has to both the wizards are firmly cemented.

They decide to get everyone together maybe a year after the last conversation. It’s his first time seeing any of them since then and as soon as they’re all in the same room it’s like no time has passed at all. Essek had come to get him while Caleb gathered the rest at Beau and Yasha’s home in Rexxentrum. Jester wraps him in a crushing and loving hug, Beau gives him a punch that’s soft for her but still stings, Yasha offers clippings of flowers immediately, and Fjord’s hug is warm. Veth’s family is here and she looks happier than he’s ever seen her. Caleb greets him with the warmth that’s always burned behind eyes that hold less and less sorrow every time he sees him. He hopes they’ll drop it all together one day.

When they pop back into existence from the way Caleb and Essek look at each other Caduceus expects something to happen. He doesn’t know what exactly but they hold each other’s eyes in a profound way. There’s gravity to them and everyone can feel it, he’s getting tired of watching them fight it.

It seems so simple even though he doesn’t feel that kind of pull, to see where this is going. It’s feels like the days before a big storm, when everyone knows what’s coming and it’s getting a little ridiculous that you’re still waiting for lightning to strike.

Everyone else drinks, they cook and eat and tell stories. Caleb and Essek sit apart but spend the entire time stealing glances across the table when they don’t think the other is looking. Nearly always they catch each other.

Yasha plays on the bone harp, she’s gotten very good and Jester swings Veth around into a dance. Kingsley, three sheets to the wind, grabs Beau and whips her into a reluctant dance and her initial protests eventually bubble into laughter. Caleb sits beside Caduceus and Jester has switched to twirling a flustered Essek across the floor of the livingroom. It often turns to dancing with these people and he loves that they love it so much.

“As I recall you’re an excellent dancer Mr. Caleb, go cut in.”

He shakes his head, “Ah- I couldn’t. Yasha is playing and I don’t think you’re much of a dancer.” He looks over with a quirk of a brow.

“I’m sure Jester won’t mind a break.”

He coughs at that, “I ah-”

Caduceus shakes his head, “No, talking is done, this is getting ridiculous.” He puts a hand square on his back and guides Caleb to stand, “You two will weave circles of metaphor around each other until one of you drops. Go Caleb, follow gravity.”

He seems to understand, seems to accept Cadcueus’ words and as soon as he stands to full height, Essek is watching over Jester’s shoulder. She, thankfully, understands the same way Caduceus does and even sends a wink as she loudly proclaims, “Oh my gosh Essek I’m so tired, I think Caleb needs someone to dance with, go to him.” She extends her arm, releasing him, and his levitation doesn’t allow him to stumble at the abrupt change in momentum.

Essek and Caleb meet and Essek steps to the ground gracefully as Caleb holds his hand out and pulls him in.

Nobody says anything for fear of spooking the delicate peace that settles over both of them as they gently turn, but Yasha slows the music she’s playing a bit and a quiet celebration is shared in the eyes of the rest of the Nein.

Caduceus breathes a sigh of relief and Jester sits herself beside him, bringing an overly sweet juice she’d found on her travels for him to try. She tells him stories into the night, and the wizards never let each other’s hands go.

#shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #caduceus clay #critical role #the mighty nein #cr fanfic #critical role fanfiction #tm9 #my writing #omni writes #my fic #a little worried this is ooc for Cad but also I think he's just treating them like he'd treat his siblings #eventually you just gotta push people in the direction they're heading

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cryptiql · 3 years

Text

smoke signals

pairing: dabi/m!reader

warnings: smoking, mentions of anxiety and abuse, but otherwise okay. please do not read forward if any of the listed warnings might trigger you in any way, and stay safe <3

words: 6.5k

a/n: this is my first ever mha fic and the fact that i decided to do dabi first shows i have some massive balls but i'm giving it a try! if he seems ooc at all or i get some facts wrong, please lmk and i'll fix them. (heavily inspired by smoke signals by phoebe bridgers—would recommend listening to it or any of her other songs while reading)

dabi found the meaning of life in a simple strum of chords; a melody twisted by melancholy tunes that resonated deep within the gates of his mind. they haunt him—either by breaking his conscious from a much needed rest to bring him tossing and turning in the damp air of the loft, or making sure that he stayed wide awake during the late hours of the night and well into the creeping day. the lyrics are so surreal that he has to sit down and contemplate their meaning like an english teacher would to the color red, but they're painted saccharine and drip with honey flowing from the mouth that sings them and he hates it. he hates that he's wasted moments better spent wrecking havoc just to understand that stupid little ditty that clings to his heart like a leech. but this song did not come from his own craft—no.

dabi had known the putrid stench of sweat and vermillion blood when the flames licked at his skin, breaching the coarse flesh of his palms to rain hellfire upon all those who dared oppress him. he could weave lies with knots that would take years to unravel, and set whole cities ablaze with a mere finger. clawing oneself from a well built to drown them in their trauma does tend to leave scars on ones hands, and dabi's body was practically a canvas for mutilation, so he could consider himself an expert on the matter. he could attempt to make such a song by strapping in with his many hours of free time and diligent persona, but his hands were not made for music; neither delicate, sonorous tunes or dark, grating strains. they were made for war.

so if anyone had asks, "no" is his answer. "i don't play." and yes, it is while he's drumming a rhythmic beat that he claims this to be true, but the last thing he thinks about is donning a set of drums during his free time. he's far too distracted by the image of your taper fingers curled around the neck of your guitar to consider anything else.

the gentle but keen plucking of chords startles him from yet another ridiculously long-winded spiel by shigaraki, and dabi swallows a strangled groan behind his grinding teeth. it's in his head, now, and so far the only thing that has succeeded in reaping it from his memory—if only for a few minutes—is the blood stained battlefield that he's found himself fighting on far too many times this month alone.

what's he complaining about, though? it's not as though he minds getting down in the dirt. in fact, he's ecstatic to dig his claws into any gruesome ordeal so long as it benefits him in some way, so why is he so invested in this little to and fro game of twenty questions with the likes of you; someone as significant in the world as a paperclip without paper to hold? why come back, despite there being nothing in it for him besides a series of migraines?

not from you, a voice answers from inside. you're an absolute pleasure.

dabi nearly snarls at the confirmation that his own mind is turning against him, and as he does this, a plume of smoke erupts from his lips, billowing and curving to create intricate patters before dissipating into the atmosphere. a second time. a third. a fourth drag from the cigarette has completely obscured his face from anyone's view, and he relishes in the instant of privacy it gives him. however, it has also blocked him from seeing everyone else in the room, and while he normally would have considered that a blessing, it appears tomura has had enough of it.

you get headaches because you smoke too much, comes a second voice; yours, scolding in a way he'd only expect from a worried mother. dabi only has a split second to register it before shigaraki's head pokes through the fumes, red eyes alight with rage and lips pulled back into a snarl.

"would you quit doing that inside? it's fogging up my brain and i can't think straight." he grates.

"strange—i assumed there wasn't a brain in there to fog up in the first place." tomura's nostrils flare and dabi's pride spikes.

"besides, you came in here and looked directly at me as i was smoking—why didn't you ask me to stop then?"

"i was telling you with my eyes, idiot. you should know when it's time to either take it outside or put the damn thing out. there are ashtrays for a reason, and not everyone here wants to inhale that shit." he interrupts their intense staring contest only to wave his hand to clear the smog. now he can see the rest of the league clearly (oh joy, he thinks) and gives an indignant grunt when spotting toga at the bar table, covering her mouth and nose as a pitiful aim to block her lungs from the smoke. twice, who had unfortunately used up the last pack of his own cigarettes that morning, leans forward to take a whiff, exhaling soon after with satisfaction.

kurogiri stands at his usual spot behind the bar, seemingly unaffected as he idly scrubs away at grime infested glasses, while sako lounges at the opposite end of the room. his mask is on, leaving dabi to wonder if it's been like that all day, or if he just recently put it on to better fend off the fumes. he doesn't really care, whatever the case.

after a beat of silence, dabi wets his lips to respond, a lopsided smirk growing on his features.

"oh, i'm sorry your frail body hasn't adapted to a bit of vapor in the air. and with that flakey skin of yours, it's no wonder you're extra sensitive—"

shigaraki's hands come flying through the next waft to slam against the tabletop where dabi's feet lie, causing it to wobble and creak in protest. the ravenette doesn't even flinch as the harsh, raspy words are spat in his face.

"if you're not going to pay attention, then leave. actually, i'd prefer you do that either way."

and dabi would have happily disregarded his request if not for the faint ringing in his ears, rising higher and higher before receding back into his skull like the tide. a scowl morphs its way onto his once vacant expression as he puts pressure on his temple, rubbing softly where his eyebrows knit together. just for today, he'll indulge his so-called boss's whims. the piercing screech that emits from below when he pushes his chair back does nothing to help with the ever-growing headache, but it hardly matters now that he's headed out the exit. he's able to catch the last fragments of shigaraki's raving before the door closes, leaving him to stand amid the tumult of the city in all of its glory.

the alleyway is dark with looming shadows, but people are still milling about, so dabi considers himself lucky for already being dressed in his disguise. he flips his hood up, pulls the surgical mask over his nose and quickly slides on his sunglasses for good measure before slipping out into the traffic, sometimes going with the flow and then weaving past those moving too slow for his liking.

right now, his patience is a mere thread; hair thin and on the edge of snapping whenever someone bumps his shoulder. their negligence is infuriating, and he's tempted to roast them into a charred, mangled mess then and there—the consequences of blowing his cover be damned—but by some miracle, he manages to refrain from doing so. it takes about five minutes for his temper to shorten to the length of a matchstick, and he knows that one more shove will be what strikes it. dabi pauses for a moment to crane his neck, allowing the sea of people to flow around him like a stream to a rock as he searches for an alternative route. it appears as though he'll have to take his chances with the crowd until he hears the repetitive ringing of a bell and a man's voice calling for passengers to board. public transport was risky, what with him being a menace to society, but he can't possibly be the single most shady dressing person on the train, right?

he wouldn't bother answering his own question when daylight was burning, so dabi pushes himself from the swarm and leaps for the streetcar just as it begins pulling away from the stop. there's a shuddering jolt before the passengers settle in for their departure, and as his palms squeeze the metal railing in response, he notices the peeling red paint clinging to the car's exterior and finds himself staring at it for a ludicrous amount of time, not thinking about anything in particular.

the rickety trolley is semi-packed with civilians, none of whom regard his presence with anything more than a noncommittal glance. good—that makes his job ten times easier. to his chagrin, it runs over more than a few opposing train tracks or crudely paved bumps in the road, and this causes the whole cart to jostle before stilling completely, the process repeating itself over and over.

the knowledge that his trip to the outskirts of town is a short one is the only thing that calms his nerves.

when dabi finally arrives at his destination, the sun is gradually descending from its peak in the sky, and the clouds are more like wispy tufts than the luscious, cotton candy lumps they were just hours earlier. overhead, the baby blue hues turn to shades of opal; a forewarning of rain. the feelings of irritation and malice from earlier are still bound to him like chains that threaten to snap him in half when drawn too tight. the crippling weight causes his feet to drag along the gravel path at a sluggish pace, his own hot breaths fanning against his face from behind the mask. if anyone actually lived out here and they were to see him, their first impression would be that a living corpse had just waltzed onto their property. it was just his luck, then, that you were the only person out here, and by extent, the only one not deterred by his appearance.

even so, dabi's mind kicks into gear. was this a good idea? he doesn't even know why he came here—he just needed a place to blow off steam and his body had already made the choice on its own. this isn't any different from all the other times, though, and he can't ignore the fact when it sits in the pit of his stomach like an anchor. you're always the first person he goes to at times like these (dabi subconsciously rules out the man working at the local 7/11 who sells his liquor cheap, though he's still appreciative of the bottle to numb his thoughts). that tells him more than he wants to know.

your house is quaint, like those old country cottages he sometimes sees pictures of, and squats on a large, grassy mound of earth surrounded by heaps of rocks and sand from the neighboring beach. it merges with a towering lighthouse, and dabi notes that there must not be any sailors due to make port yet, otherwise the light would be on. the second thing he takes in are the flowerbeds sitting under your two front windows, and how they look withered and close to death.

"i wanted to add some color, but i can't keep plants alive for shit." you had said, huffing in amusement to yourself as you tended to the weeping alliums. "succulents are the only exception."

a small pot of them sits on the windowsill, but they seem to have gotten to big for it; the rubbery leaves spilling over the cracked rim. he hardly registers how much of a stalker he must look like until he stands on your welcome mat, peering through the dirty glass panes to find you nowhere in sight. the lights aren't on, so he can only see the outlines of furniture when bands of light stream in to reveal them.

sitting back on the balls of his feet, dabi curses under his breath. it's not like he was expecting anything. how was he supposed to know whether or not you were home when you had no way of telling him?

"jesus, patch!" a shout startles him from his brooding, but he doesn't let it show as he looks towards to ocean. you're hauling yourself over a large rock to wave him over, wearing a familiar grin. so that's why he couldn't see you. dabi makes careful work of leaping over jagged stones and threatening to bake any nosy seagulls as he makes his way to where you sit, with your favored instrument slung over your shoulder. the ghost of a smile graces his lips when he recalls how you would have scolded him for being mean to the birds, but that was before last week.

"pesky fucking bastards—they keep shitting on my music sheets!" another seagull waddles into your vicinity, only to squawk in distress as you shoo it away with your foot. "i wonder if this is natures way of telling me to quit while i'm behind. . ."

after breaching the treacherous terrain and nearly scraping himself in the process, dabi squats on the stone beside yours, looking up at you with hooded eyes. you meet his gaze with nothing short of merriment and a shake of your head.

"if someone had seen you, you would have been arrested on the spot for being a peeping tom." you chuckle, combing a hand through your hair with a smirk. "what? you lookin' you catch me in the nude or something?"

dabi scowls, choosing to ignore the question rather than give into the bait. as if i would be satisfied by looking at anyone but you in that state. he swats the air as if it would drive the notion from his mind like a bothersome fly.

"in the middle of fuck-ass nowhere? i'd never get caught."

"aw, don't be like that. if you really wanted a peek you could've just asked." the mocking tone in your voice spurs him to smack your thigh, which earns a hearty laugh in reply.

"ooh, don't treat me so roughly, or i might begin to like it!"

dabi has had more than enough experience with your flirtatious tendencies, and he feels he should have gotten used to it by now, but his heart still clenches every damn time. the worse part? he can't say that he minds. you don't give him a chance to respond, but dabi hasn't a clue what he would have said, so he lets you continue, watching intently as you rifle through your bag to fish out a guitar pick. shifting into a crisscross position, you perch the guitar on your lap and begin tuning the strings, idly talking about how uneventful the past days have been. dabi pretends not to have heard that it was because he wasn't there to visit, and instead gives his attention to the lighthouse in hopes that you won't see the faintest of reds dusting his ears.

five minutes pass before you actually start playing, and even then, it's only a few experimental notes here and there that help you build towards the perfected melody.

it's too sweet for his taste; dabi swears that's why his stomach turns so ferociously and prompts him to lean against the boulder to his right for some sort of stability. he won't even humor the idea that it's because of the way your lips twitch into a near half-smile before melding back into a concentrated frown the moment you strike a wrong cord. an embarrassed flush captures your cheeks as you study the music sheets, briefly pressing down on them when a sudden breeze flutters the pages. the pencil that was once tucked behind your ear now sticks out from one corner of your mouth, a flash of pink and orange melding together when you go to absentmindedly gnaw on the wood.

many more minutes fly by, and you've long since abandoned the new tune just to pick up an old one. dabi's back straightens at the first set of strings you pluck, and he recognizes them as the same ones that have been playing on repeat in his head since the day you met.

dabi's heart hammers in tune with every footfall that slaps against the pavement, tearing through the small pools of water that grow with every second. it hasn't stopped raining since the chase began, and there isn't an inch of him that hasn't been soaked through. still, something good must come from this little dilemma—the burning sensation that clings to his arms has almost settled down. the silhouettes of trees merge with inky blackness when he blinks, and he reaches with trembling hands to wipe the droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes.

a yellow square of what assumes to be light shines in the distance, contrasting wildly adverse to the darkness that sweeps him up from under his feet and pushes him forward. the sound of police sirens has been reduced to a mere memory in the time that was running, but he isn't about to risk going back to the league's base in fear of a stakeout waiting to get the jump on them. besides, why stop there when the possibility of shelter awaits him?

the bottoms of dabi's shoes are slick with mud, and blades of grass have snuck their way under the cuffs of his jeans to scratch at his skin. the sensations paired with the numbing cold are beyond uncomfortable, but he won't have to worry about that once he gets inside—that being if the person inside doesn't put up a fight.

he'd expect them to be mad if they did anything except that, no matter how welcoming the house looked. dabi's instincts tell him that someone out this far from the city doesn't a have a lot of connections, and thus killing them wouldn't cause an uprising if it were needed, but the minute he grips the doorknob, a thought occurs. if they have a quirk, its power could level my own or even surpass it. . . he grits his teeth. but like hell i'm going to let them win.

the hesitation vanishes in an instant as dabi turns the knob and thrusts himself inside, wielding a blue flame in his dominant hand to further illuminate the room. the wind is so fierce that it pulls the door shut for him, and the villain finds himself staring down the unperturbed figure of another man, perhaps around his age, hunched over a stove and glaring at a steaming kettle. they lock gazes, and almost immediately, the kettle gives a high pitched whistle. you look away first, lifting the pot and turning the burner off whilst opening the cupboard overhead to pull out two mugs, both of which adorn ugly christmas-themed patterns that dabi wishes he could forget ever seeing.

his glare hardens when you move to the table in the far corner and begin pouring what he assumes to be tea, taking one cup into your own grasp and leaving the other at his own disposal. your one mistake is grabbing your phone from the counter, but when dabi's flame enlarges, you hold your arms up in defense. then, before he can even formulate a proper threat, you toss the phone to him. he catches it easily and observes the dark screen, masking his astonishment with a more sinister expression.

the only other move you make is to drape yourself across a cushion on the window seat with an acoustic guitar in hand. you look more relaxed by the second despite being cornered by a dangerous criminal, and dabi has to refrain from voicing his shock when you address him with an almost bored tone.

"if the tea isn't to your taste, there's more in the cabinet. shower is down the hall to your left, and there's a spare bedroom upstairs to the right. do whatever the hell you want, just don't burn the place down or touch my freddie mercury records."

dabi is stuck to the spot for one of three reasons, he determines. one, your attitude has surprised him into a stupor that not even hiw own will can break. two, his refusal to believe that you're handling this situation in a calm manner is really just his defense mechanism kicking in, and he won't move until proven that you won't do anything when his back is turned. and three, you're quirk is similar to that of madusa's and you've successfully turned him into a fleshy mannequin.

"if you're worried about me calling the cops, what you're holding is the only working phone here. the power is out due to the storm, so my landline is dead, and the nearest form of help is a crippled old widow five miles west. i'm not going to risk running when i'm up against someone with a quirk."

dabi considers everything said, but never once allows his fire to dim. he took the surrounding area into account while making his escape, and he can see the landline is in fact out of service, so the male's assurances checked out. hell, the light source that guided him here was nothing but an old-timey oil lamp. the fact that you're quirkless does him a great amount of good as well.

with cautious steps, dabi makes a beeline for the bathroom, but he stops halfway to stare at you again. you respond by quirking a brow and kicking your feet up, something akin to mischief in your guise.

"i can take the shower with you since you're so afraid i'll make a break for it." you drawl, and dabi snarls, a fowl cuss bubbling in his throat as heat crawls its way up his neck.

"why, with a blush like that you might not need any drying off~."

dabi decides that he's had enough and storms down the hall, already peeling off his dripping clothes and and silently promising that he'll burn the guy to a crisp if he so much as tries to catch a peek. he can hear you calling out in hilarity even as he slinks into the shower and attempts to drown you out with the static-filled haze that captures his senses.

"the name's, y/n, by the way!"

try as he might, dabi had never been able to keep from coming back. now the reason why has been revealed to him on a silver platter, and he won't even spare it a glance.

your soft singing snaps him from his reminiscing as he stretches his legs, stifling a groan when something pops as not to disturb you. while digging through his pockets for a cigarette, he stops momentarily for fear of forgetting how to breathe when he lays his sights on you. you're in your own little world; everything else—him included— seems to have disappeared as you play from the heart. you need no standing ovation, no adoring fans or fantastic lightshows. you've said it once, that fame and glory mean nothing to you, and that you have all you could ever want or need right here, nestled in the beachside view of what you call home.

"and i have you." a cool breeze ruffles your dirt stained overalls as you reach up to wipe a bead of sweat from your forehead. the sun beats down on you, never shining half as bright as your smile, and the shore kisses the boulders with waxing and waning waves of aquamarine; frothy, foamy masses washing up with it to carry lone strands of seaweed. "otherwise i'd go mad without your company."

okay, that was lie. the truth is right there, practically spitting in his face how much of an idiot he is for trying to deny it, and dabi is glaring right back at it. he feels like an impatient kid on christmas eve, sneaking glimpses of gifts under the tree and feeling like he's committed a felony after getting caught. and you do catch him.

"penny for your thoughts, patch?" there it is—that stupid nickname. it's always been laced with mirth when you call him as such, but now it's replaced by genuine curiosity. and is that a hit of concern he hears? you study him with pursed lips and stony features that gradually morphs into that of concern when the silence stretches on. dabi forces himself to sneer at you, and something stirs inside his chest when you don't flinch.

he hates it. he hates you.

dabi nods to the sky, a guarded noise building in the back of his throat as he tugs on his earlobe.

"s'gonna rain." your jaw visibly clenches, but you humor his evasive habits just like you always have, looking to the clouds, which have darkened considerably in the last hour or so. it's around this time that the weather patterns become more unpredictable, but you've noticed the distinct lack of rainfall in spite of the gathering storm brewing overhead. you could sit out here for a while longer without much activity in the sky, and it would take more than a little shower to drive you inside, especially when you finally had the chance to enjoy some quality time with dabi. you notice the way his shoulders droop and the tension from his facial muscles all but disappears when he sits amidst the smell of fresh salt water and unpolluted air—the weight of his past slowly but surely ebbing away. you'd like to hope you have some part in that. oh god, do you ever hope.

you plead to whatever omnipresent being above that he's not just here to hit a blunt without getting reprimanded for it, or that he's making these daily visits out of pity.

"nah. it's been like this for a little while—looks like a storm will hit, but then it passes before it even begins." you sling the guitar back over your shoulder and gather up your music sheets, eyeing dabi from your perch. you're challenging him now, and normally you would never dare force him to speak if he didn't want to, but something about his aura is off. you can sense it in his words; the very air he breathes; and it compels you to hold him close, if only he would let you.

"so, you gonna tell me why you're avoiding the ques—" a deep rumble interrupts you, and dabi lets out a sigh of relief that you're thankfully too distracted to hear. a single drop of water hits your nose, followed by another, and another, and—

"you were saying?"

"oh shut it." you don't get to finish speaking, for a crack of lightning strikes the far end of the beach, scattering sand in every direction. you just barely manage to scoop up your belongings before sliding from the rock, but your footing betrays you and send you stumbling to the ground. dabi is there to catch you, wasting no more time in hauling you to your feet and rushing you as carefully as possible through the jagged maze. he can't refrain from smiling when you splutter a string of profanities pass poorly hidden laughter, an unmistakable "FUCK ME!" spilling into the cold evening when you accidentally stub your toe on a particularly sharp stone. it's pouring within seconds, and no sooner do you reach the doorstep do you both realize how sopping wet you are.

the last thing you think of is your chattering teeth, however, when you see dabi's spiky tufts of hair dripping with residue and his electric blue eyes gazing into yours. what you do think is that for the first time in your painfully ordinary life; your twenty three years of mediocrity and progressive isolation from the world around you; you have found the single person who understands your struggles and has chosen—for some unfathomable reason—not to abandon you. you wish you could say your parents were the same, but you also have scars from a distant childhood that brought you to this place.

this old lighthouse is your home, yes, but dabi is your sanctuary. he might as well be a god by how often you worship him from afar, wondering if ever you'd be so lucky; so eternally blessed; as to call him yours.

you don't register that he's opened the door to let you both inside until a cozy warmth envelopes you. no, wait, that's dabi's fire. it should terrify you that the same man who threatened you with those flames is now at arms length, but you trust him not to hurt you in any way, and so you lean into the gentle licking of heat on your skin, humming in content as your shivering comes to a halt.

dabi's fear of burning you diminishes when you flash him a grateful smile, a whisper of thanks echoing across the walls and pummeling his heart without resistance. he averts his eyes with a curt nod, a feeling like molasses weighing down his tongue and drowning the words he wants to say.

"you're welcome." is all he can muster.

half an hour later, your guitar is drying by the hearth and the two of you are huddled on the window seat, nursing cups of coffee and watching the storm in a comfortable silence. you haven't blinked in a while, meaning you've wandered off the tracks of consciousness as suspected, and pretty soon, you start singing quietly to yourself; the deep crooning used as background noise to your aimless meditation. dabi nudges your calf with his foot and is rewarded with a brief quirk of your lips and a nudge back. he doesn't have the patience nor the brain power to decipher how long this goes on for, but it doesn't matter.

this is fine. the image of red hair and a tall, intimidating figure invades his train of thought, and dabi curls inwards on himself. this is fine.

but it's not.

trembling, he places his mug on the table before retracting back into his seat, clasping his hands together. he tries visualizing the ties of his life coming together to form a rope. the fingers on his left—memories from his past—linking together with those from his right—memories made with you. his palms connect, bringing instant relief with the knowledge that he's here now, practically nestled between your legs, out of harms way. you're both fine.

dabi takes the swelling anxiety and pretends to crush it within his fist; clenching and unclenching it until his peace of mind returns.

"penny for your thoughts, patch?" you ask again, still in somewhat of a trance. this time, dabi answers.

"why do you call me that?"

you're caught of guard, half expecting him to ask why you haven't turned him in to the authorities. you've seen him without his disguise, you know his name, and for the past eight months you've been socializing with him like normal human beings do. that's more than both of you could have said in the past. of all the burning questions, he chose that one? "i've heard 'patchwork' and 'staples' and just about everything in between. why shorten it to patch?"

you gape at him, opening your mouth, then closing it, and so on. the pitter patter of rain against the window has ascended into relentless pelting. it sounds like gunfire to dabi; assaulting his ears in floods; but to you, it's nothing more than a waterfall hindering your view of the ocean. the deep breath you take seems to put more suspense in the atmosphere than needed, and it makes dabi's heartrate quicken for an entirely different reason, yet he makes no sign of stopping you.

"because my first thought whenever i see you is how much you remind me of a doll." oh. what?

you can tell by dabi's reaction that that wasn't what he was expecting, so you gesture for him to wait. he isn't sure he likes the forlorn expression you're wearing.

"typically, when kids first get a doll, they treat it like glass and make sure to tend to it with love. other times, doll owners are reckless and tear them apart just to stitch them back together like nothing happened. you use that camouflaged to blend in with the public, and i'm lucky enough to see what's under it. . .but sometimes i wish you'd keep the mask on so i don't have to see you upset."

upset? a fizzing sound erupts from his palms that he struggles to put out. he's not upset.

"don't try to hide it. you're always scowling when you think i'm not looking, or when you forget i'm even here, and i know it's because someone broke you without the intent of fixing you up."

once more, red clouds dabi's vision, and he moves to stand up.

"you had to clean up after their mistakes because no one else would, but instead of reusing the bits and pieces of your old self, you burned them. you destroyed any and all evidence of who you used to be and now you're patching yourself together with parts that aren't your own, because you don't want to hold onto what happened. though, something tells me you still haven't let go, otherwise you wouldn't be so angry."

"you don't know that!" he snaps, but he knows it's not true.

your hand closes around his wrist, and dabi recoils with such strength that it yanks you from your seat. dabi doesn't want you to let go, no matter how much he thrashes in place, because the sensation of your skin on his grounds him. somehow you know this, and you give a comforting squeeze to his pulse.

"but that's not all i see. because dolls are beautiful, and it's the ones who still love them after they're broken that they need the most. no one's told you they think you're beautiful, have they?"

dabi shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze even when you cup his cheek with your free hand tilt it towards you. every touch is filled with hesitancy; feather light and more intimate than anything dabi has ever witnessed, let alone experienced personally. with the way you hold him like he's water in your hands, your eyes overflowing with a love he hasn't known in forever, dabi knows he won't find another feeling like it. you're not the embodiment of good—at least not by society's strict standards—but at least you can sit there and say you've committed a crime. you've never bloodied your hands by hurting others, much less gotten a thrill from doing so, and that's why he pulls away. he has to, because dabi is a harbinger of war, and if he holds you any closer it will only be to kill you.

he says something; a snarl mixed with a broken plea that he prays will make you stop; and you do. his silent victory doesn't last for long, though, because then you're using both hands to cradle his face and fuck, the pads of your thumbs grazing his scars feel like heaven. "won't you let me be the first?" how could he say no? how, when the taste of honey and whiskey is so addictive that he's already drooling into the kiss and willing to beg for more; when your mouth slots perfectly with his and dabi begins to wonder if he's stumbled right into the scene of a cliché wattpad story. the idea causes him to huff out a growl, and although neither of you can talk, he can imagine how strongly you must want to poke fun at him for the action. he can feel you smirking—the smug little bastard you are—and dabi ponders how long it will take to reduce that attitude of yours until you're submitting to him.

not yet. he chastises himself, completely unaware that you're currently thinking the same thing. dabi kneads the flesh of your hips through your jeans while you comb your fingers through his hair, gasping sharply between bruising, wet kisses and keening when he leans down to nurse your lips with soft pecks afterword. you're still trying to process the fact that you've coerced this devious criminal into making out with you in the pale glow of your seaside residence, but for the moment, you need not concern yourself with the details. you've forgotten all about dabi's ego and how this whole situation is no doubt feeding its flames. his grip on your waist is making you too delirious to care.

"fuck." dabi's breath is staggering when you finally pull back, an aura of clarity and desire hanging between the two of you.

"y-yeah. . .that was. . ." you can't produce a word, or even a paragraph to describe it. you know you're going to hit yourself later for admitting such a banal phrase in the midst of what could be classified as your very first kiss, but that is neither here nor there, and you would rather suffer an agonizing death than let dabi find out that he stole your first. you're too preoccupied envisioning all the other firsts to come, so you don't notice the way he stares at you like some precious jewel, but his fingertips brushing your bottom lip succeed in snapping you out of it.

"hm?"

dabi goes quiet, contemplating what to say as the thunder moves abroad and the rain comes to an end, leaving the house in a numbing state of tranquility.

"why not call me doll, then? it'd be easier."

you chuckle in response, playing with the hairs at the base of dabi's neck and making sure not to miss the way he melts into the affection. "i thought that'd be moving too fast." and dabi; still drugged from your kiss and what he can only hope is love; rasps out a genuine laugh, cupping your jaw with a tenderness that makes your knees weak.

"you offered to take a shower with me the night we met, and you think a nickname is moving too fast?"

you stick your tongue out at him, and dabi resists the urge to grab it, even if it's just a bluff.

"would you have let me call you that anyways?" you ask, something hopeful ridden in your tone. dabi feigns consideration as he looks to the ceiling, snickering when you smack his chest. eventually, he murmurs what you audibly hear as "brat" before resting his forehead on yours, an impish glint in his gaze.

"no."

you turn your chin up at him, giggling when he nips at the skin. dabi knows just as well that your attempts at escaping him are halfhearted, so he encircles his arms around your waist tighter, delighting in the flush that paints your cheeks.

"then i think i'll settle for my love, or darling, if that's alright with you."

dabi can't fend off the blush for his life, but he's not afraid if you acknowledge it. he can get you back easily, and he plans to. "fine by me, doll."

#⛓.dabi #dabi x male reader #dabi x reader #anime x male reader #mha x male reader #touya todoroki x male reader #my hero x reader #my hero x y/n #boku no hero x reader #x male reader #bnha x you #dabi fluff #dabi angst #dabi imagine

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ravysu · 3 years

Text

Sannin headcanons and thoughts

The last thing I would like to post for the sannin week. It is still 24.04 here! :D @sannin-central

This is long. Spoiler alert. Mostly Orochimaru, some Tsunade, a little of Jiraiya (because his story is pretty clear and spoken and idk what I can add). Also I recommend to read this meta about Orochimaru, it has influenced me a lot and has some good points. Sorry for any posible grammar mistakes. Also I really should put here a lot of references to the manga or anime but it was something that was piling up for a year and I'm soooooooo lazy. After all, those are just headcanons. Also: Im not excusing Oro's bad stuff here, Im trying to understand the reasons.

Ive already posted some hcs, here, here and here.

1. First if all, the chronology pic of sannin lifetime based on the info i found on naruto wiki and also some statements about wars from this post. It was tough considering what a mess naruto’s chronology is.

2. Sannin story shows what it cost to be a legend. They're like Team 7 but more realistic. Tsunade literally carried the war but left with nothing and developed a ptsd and have problems to just live on. Also anger control issues. I think she can be pretty bossy and stubborn which is not always nice. Jiraiya is the hero of the day but also very idealistic and can ignore some important details in the real word whether its the fight (he always injured during flashbacks maybe because each time he took too much to handle and on the one hand it's heroistic but on the other is a mistake that can lead your team to situations like in that Iwa cave) or your friends issues (I bet he saw what's going on but thought it's fine until Oro actually got red handed and left). He lives in his world and may have problems to get out to see it through someone else's shoes. As for Orochimaru, it seems like he was a normal guy for 20+ years (I mean, he didn't do crazy criminal shit and had something good in him and it was stated somewhere that it was his teammates influence. It is obvious they considered him as a friend, I don't thinks it was for nothing) but we mostly know his darkest side. Despite being a moster he is a human that have empathy and some ordinary human traits (man just decorates every bit of an environment he is in lol).

3. Tsunade was the leader of team Hiruzen.

4. Tsunade sometimes hit Jiraiya for some stupid things he did or said but never touches Orochimaru even if he did something same. Jiraiya complained about it once and almost got another hit.

5. Jiraiya had problematic parents that didn't care about him much and a lot of time he was wandering in the streets.

6. Judging by the look of Oro bangs and hair, he sometimes cut it off. A stress relief huh? And the fact that he doesn't do it now in Boruto..

7. It was shown that Tsunade and Orochimaru was acknowledged before they become a team. Maybe they did just before, or maybe some longer time before. I prefer the second option and hc that they met because both had no real friends - Orochimaru seemed weird and scary for everyone and Tsunade was Senju so everyone wanted to hang out with her but didn't really care. They weren't seen as what they were - people put the labels on them. But they didn't care about each other's labels and actually saw each other in true lights.

8. Tsunade knew it was an accident and it's not right but still she blamed Orochimaru for Nawaki's death for some time. It was something that seriously damaged their friendship and the team. Orochimaru was mad but also guilty, after all, he was responsible at least as a shinobi since Nawaki was under his watch. So he started to act cold and emotionless and was trying to distance himself from his teammates.

9. Jiraiya was in Ame while Dan died.

10. The whole his orphans mission was a bit irresponsible tbh. They already fought Hanzo and as he stated the conflict between Konoha and Ame is going to an end with Konoha's win. It's weird to stay here for three years in the middle of the war while there were other lands to fight. He left his teammates for some idea. Maybe that caused another crack in their team friendship.

11. If Tsunade would have find a way to live on with her trauma and follow the will of fire and stuff it would affect Orochimaru as well just as her grief affected him. It's like he would get an example that you can live on with this pain. So death isn't above human capability and we are not just the slaves of mortality (sounds stupid but i dont know how else to describe sorry). But as we know what he actually saw is that it broke her crucially to the point she couldnt be herself again. And so the death is above everything.

12. Oro wasn’t just acting as a cold pragmatic bitch in that cave but also tried to save Tsunade. Jiraiya knew it and that’s why he showed this sign to him like "I see what youre doing here" and that stunned Oro because he would prefer to look rather like a cold pragmatic bitch hehe

13. Just a thought. People in the village probably treated Oro as a foreigner or just wouldnt accept him because he looked so differently and had a weird attitude. That's why he sometimes didn't feel that Konoha is his home. After the wars where people were treated as means and tools, even the children, he himself developed this view on people - he dehumanized them and used as the means to his goals, just as his village did. Funny thing some people were straightly dehumanizing him too like Ibiki thought that he was a demon (tho he was a child). And he probably weren't the only one. Anyways the point is that it's logical that Orochimaru don't care about anybody but some few people, he's the product of his era. He's like Naruto that would chose the hatred way. But naruto had some good and understanding people around him and.. Orochimaru had them too, but match how Iruka treated Naruto and this Hiruzen's "I sAw tHe mAliCe in This cHiLd fRoM tHe BegGinNinG". And oro didn't even have a big ass evil fox in him. sry i hate hiruzen

ANYWAYS the moral of the story is not "go criminal if they hurt you" but always treat people like people. Waving my hand to Kant.

14. The reason why Orochimaru didn't pick some good morals to stick with through the hard times no matter what (like, idk, Jiraiya or Naruto) is because 1) I think he is/was pretty depending on people around him 2) the war fucked him and his friends up too much (Nawaki incident + Tsunade) 3) twisted addictions (though I don't think he's that sadistic, we never saw him torturing randoms just for fun, it was always some science experimental shit. He tends to get fun out of cruelty only when it's personal) that maybe developed as a way to sublimate anger and sadness caused by his parents loss (that's what they share with sasuke - unlicke naruto, they knew their parents and it's other kind of pain. Sasuke developed a revenge issue and Orochimaru - cruelty pleasure which... is kinda the same but less epic and more occasional lol).

15. Speaking of that, Orochimaru cared for Sasuke because he saw himself in him.

16. Oro hold grudges against Hiruzen for not choosing him to be Hokage not only because he was ambitious and/or egoistic, but also because Hiruzen was some kind of a father figure for him and his approval was important tho i doubt he was aware of that. He also probably could tell that Hiruzen was suspicios about him when he was a child and that led to many conflicts and was hurting as well.

17. Tsunade knew things weren't pretty with Orochimaru after the wars but she never expected them to be this bad. During the week that she was given in her arc she thought not only about how much she wants to see Nawaki and Dan again despite how wrong would it be but also was trying to bury all the good memories she had left of Orochimaru so it would be easier to kill him.

18. She poisoned Jiraiya exactly because she knew he would not let her do it. Jiraiya was always hesitant to kill and inclined to forgiveness, while Tsunade, as mentioned by Orochimaru, could be merciless (so much so that he was not surprised when Kabuto suggested that she wanted to use Jira for Edo Tensei).

19. That was one of her traits that scared Jiraiya and fascinated Orochimaru.

20. Remember how Oro grabbed Jiraiya's neck when the latter was trying to cover with hair jutsu? On the snake, in Tsnade's arc. Orochimaru could have easily kill Jiraiya by pulling the sword out of the mouth (arteries are right there) but he didn't. As well as he could kill Tsunade when she was still shaking - just aim for the neck or the heart. Instead, he just injured her lung and kicked her which is not a big deal for the kind of shinoby like her at all.. Also he helped Anko not accidentally kill herself but it would be way much profitable to let her do it. "Orochimaru has no feelings".

21. The reason he suddenly wanted to kill Tsunade instead of forcing her to heal his arms as it was planned (which is weird since it will not going to get him heals and he kinda said that he wouldn't want to kill her just minutes ago) is that not only she refused to help him (he thought he could work it out) but she also prefered the village over him (from his point of view). Out if everyone she was the closest to being able to understand him since the village caused her painful losses too but nevertheless she agreed to be on it's side.

22. He wasn't fighting her back in the end partly because he thought he deserved that. Somewhere deep inside hahah.

23. Tsunade got a fear to develop deep bonds so they probably weren't very close with Shizune (also the way she knocked her down in this hotel.. oh).

24. Orochimaru will be here when she'll die.

25. Orochimaru's eng dub to Tsunade: "I often wondered what it would be like to ring that pretty neck yours". No comments.

26. Orochimaru is either bi/pan or ace. Anything or nothing lmao

27. Hiruzen knew about at least some of the Oro’s illegal experiments and was okay just as he was okay with the Foundation all the time. Because it’s useful. Then he has discovered he went too far OR he knew everything and oro just became too inconvenient because of his methods. The way Orochimaru tells Sasuke about reasons they are well treated as the criminals is based on in his experience with Hiruzen.

28. As you may know the lyrics in Orochimaru’s music theme goes “don’t talk with the silence of the heart”. It was taken from one Indian song that also had lines like “don’t question life too much”, ”pain arose somewhere in the chest”, “don’t speak to the wounds of the heart”. Though I’m not sure 100% because I was translating it with some hindi dictionary with like zero knowledge of hindi

29. I like to think that this “silence of the heart” theme and the fact that he called his village a hidden sound village are somehow connected. The hidden sound is the possible explanation of all things waiting to be listened to but the truth is silent and you know it deep in your heart and it bothers you. The world is silent just like the life is meaningless but people can only hear. *Sigh* anyways

30. Orochimaru’s journey is the one about accepting death. When he saw Karin released her chains while was trying to get to Sasuke he understood that the death is a part of human’s strength.

Can’t wait to feel that everything I wrote is wrong or not enough or stupid and obvious lol. Anyways, it’s something that I wanted to share until I move to some other fandom.

#sannin week 2021 #orochimaru #tsunade #jiraiya #sannin #naruto #naruto headcanons

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thatweeboverthereisthirsty · 3 years

Note

OK so I got this idea. S/o (who's this time has to be female) is also an octo mermaid but still from another world. So s/o gets into one of the pools and they discover she's a blanket octopus (if you haven't seen a female blanket octopus they're one of the most beautiful octopus out there with their gradient colors) and they get popular af like everyone is like "wow she's such a beautiful meroctopus" Yada yada. And Azul it's mad. Part 1

Part 2. And both Jade and Floyd notice it and decide to tell s/o who is shocked and sad because they have a HUGE crush so they decided to give him a gift. Since they know he doesn't have a octopus pot they decide to make him one. After months they give it to him and confess and he's shocked and ask for their forgiveness as it isn't their fault. At the end he and s/o cuddle inside of the octo pot in their mer forms.

OMG THIS TOOK ME FOREVER!!!! I probably got this ask before thanksgiving so I am very sorry that it took me this long, HOWEVER, it is the longest oneshot I have ever written so that’s quite an accomplishment. There are photo references that go with this story as well so check those out before you read.

Warnings: Slight language, insecurities, fluff, very very minor angst, fem!s/o

Word count: 4,710

Azul x Reader: Cuddle Pot

The above images are references for the s/o’s octopus species and the octopus pot. I don’t know who the original artist is for the second so if you know please let me know so I can give credit where due.

“Wait seriously? You’re a mermaid!” Ace practically shrieks and you giggle. Placing a finger to your lips, you shush him as Deuce slaps the back of your over energetic friend’s head.

“Yes. I am a mermaid, but you can’t tell anyone yet.”

“Why not?” Jack questions. His tail flicks in confusion.

You sigh and think back to the last time anyone found out about your true form. Most of the people back in your world found merpeople to be odd and cursed. It was considered a disability and a disease. Human society often shunned what they didn’t understand. And that lack of understanding led to fear.

A boy in your old school had been your middle school sweetheart for approximately 7 months before you decided to tell him your secret. He had seemed so eager to finally go swimming with you that you had naively believed that it was all going to be fine. However when he stared at your flowey, shimmering form you felt yourself grow worried that he would no longer like you.

“Babe,” you started, leaning closer to try and grasp his face with your smooth, webbed fingers. “It’s alright. It’s just my merform. It’s going to-” He quickly slapped your hand away and stumbled back.

“F-freak, monster, disgusting. Stay away from me you animal! We’re over you deceiving B*tch!” He quickly ran away from the side of the lake where you had brought him. As dawns lovely lights sprayed your body with pinks, and soft oranges, tears slid down your cheeks and into the water below. He hated you. Oh what a fool you had been to think that he would be different, that he would love you anyway.

School had become increasingly difficult after that. Word spread fast and you were quickly isolated by everyone you had called a friend. Eventually you moved to a new place and decided that you would never love again.

This wasn’t the case however in Twisted Wonderland. You were so pleasantly surprised to find people like you, and they weren’t considered freaks because of it. It had been a shock and you quickly found yourself yearning to tell others about what you truly were. Fear had you back though. At least up until that point.

“I had a bad experience with someone I cared about back in my home world.” You stated softly. The boys looked at each other and smiled.

“Well this isn’t that world. You're good to go here since I can’t imagine anyone judging you for what you look like in this place.” Ace’s words reassured you.

“He’s right. At NRC it’s highly unlikely that you’ll be bullied because of something like this. But what are you anyway?” Deuce questioned.

You giggled and leaned in closer to the 4 people sitting at the lunch table, (5 if you included Grimm, but he already knew). “I’m an octopus.” You said with excitement and slight nervousness.

“Really? That sounds so cool!” Epel was quiet but excited when he spoke up for the first time since the conversation started. You smiled to yourself and mentally sighed in relief that the people you had next trusted with your secret didn’t view you any differently.

“Wait hold the phone. Octopus? Like Azul?” Ace pressed close enough that you could reach across with a napkin and wipe the side of his cheek that had been smeared with BBQ sauce when he scarfed his lunch.

“Yes and no, Azul is a Common Octopus, which means that he is the standard octopus you mostly see around the ocean or in pictures. Basically what you imagine when someone says Octopus. I’m a different type of octopus, one that is more rare.” You pulled out your phone while talking to bring up an image. You held the phone so everyone at the table could see.

“This is a female Blanket Octopus. We’re pretty rare but we are also one of the most beautiful kinds.”

Everyone went wide eyed and watched the screen as you scrolled through images of your fellow eight legged friends. Epel turned to you and grabbed your shoulder.

“You absolutely have to show us your merform.” Ace, Deuce, and Jack all nodded in agreement. You flushed and fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

“I don’t know guys. It would be a hassle to find a place where we could do it and I’m not sure I want anyone else seeing me. What if someone shows up and freaks out?” This time it was Jack’s turn to speak when he leaned back before smiling slightly.

“Not that I care but I personally would show up to support you if you needed it. Besides, the school pool is closed after dark. However I’m pretty sure Ruggie has snatched a copy of every key to every lock in the building.”

“Of course he has.” Deuce says rolling his eyes. “That hyena couldn’t keep his paws to himself even if his life depended on it.” You giggled but ignored the comment in favor of asking Jack if he could get the key. The wolf nodded and you told everyone to meet you by the pool at 9:30. Your friends nodded in agreement just as the bell rang.

----------

The air was humid and warm, it was perfect for a late night swim, although your clothes would likely stick to your body when you changed back. Still you shifted uncomfortably at the idea of getting in the water with what you are wearing. A pair of leggings was slipped on underneath a waterproof skirt. You had a jacket over your bikini top but per usual you were unable to wear bottoms unless you wanted them to tear. You would have to be very careful not to let the skirt go up before you shifted.

A sigh left your lips and Grimm, sensing your nervousness, rubbed up against your leg in silent comfort. Your friends were unlikely to freak out but it was still nerve wracking to think about exposing your true form to other non-merpeople. Hundreds of scenarios where something went wrong filtered through your head and promised that your anxiety wouldn’t leave anytime soon.

“BOO!” Half a shriek pierced the night before a hand clasped over your mouth.

“Shishishishishi.” You turned around in surprise and pulled the fingers away from your face.

“Ruggie! What are you doing here?” You whisper shouted. The hyena snickered again and held up one finger. He made a circular motion and a key ring twirled around in response.

“Jack said you needed to get in here. Thought I’d tag along.” The smirk on his face irritated you but you couldn’t be surprised. You should have known that having Jack of all people ask for keys to break into the pool after hours was going to raise some eyebrows. Honestly you should have just asked him to invite Ruggie along anyways. Key or no key the hyena was likely to want to know what was going on.

“Alright fine, but if you tell anyone what you saw here today, and I mean anyone, then I will hide your piggy bank from you.” Ruggie’s eyes went wide before they narrowed.

“You have my word.” You smiled knowing that you had convinced him to keep your secret despite the fact that if he really had told someone you wouldn’t have actually done more than try and punch him. Of all people you knew how precious money was in this world, considering the fact that you had none.

Footsteps alerted you to the approaching presence of your other friends. You turn

around and find Jack, Epel, Ace and Deuce walking over to you. They wave and Jack frowns when he spots Ruggie.

“What are you doing here? I thought you already gave me the key.” The hyena snickers and points towards the key Jack was holding.

“I gave you the one to the janitors closet, which I’m gonna need back by the way. I wanted to see what was going on for myself so I hung out here till Y/n came over, and then I figured it had to be interesting if she was involved. I didn’t know there was gonna be a crowd though.” He looked at you, “This must be one hell of a surprise if you got all the first years here.”

Deuce pointed out that Sebek was a first year as well but the hyena shrugged it off saying “he doesn’t count as a student since he’s basically just a guard.” You figured that was Leona’s opinion and Ruggie agreed.

“Guys it’s already late and I don’t wanna get caught so let's go in already.” Everyone nodded and Ruggie opened the gate.

Carefully you unzipped your jacket as you walked over to the bench. The water appeared calm and undisturbed, allowing a clear view of the illuminated bottom which was surprisingly clean considering teenage boys flung about in the water all day.

You sighed and shrugged the jacket off before stepping out of your shoes. Setting down the bag with your extra clothes you mentally prepared yourself for what was about to happen.

Ruggie leaned closer to Jack and whispered something you didn’t catch but Jack’s response of “You’ll see.” was enough to tell you what had happened. Pushing your anxiety out of the way you lowered yourself into the pool, sighing as the cool water licked your skin. Giving yourself a moment to relax you let your worries leak into the water around you. You had always felt better in the water. It’s a merfolk thing.

“Are you guys positive you won’t freak out?” You called to the edge of the pool where your friends were standing.

“Not unless you grow 10 heads.” Ace sniggered until Epel elbowed him. You rolled your eyes and looked suspiciously over to Ruggie who still had no idea what was going on.

“No promises.” You sighed, but smiled when Jack nodded at you, signaling that it would be alright. Who were you kidding Ruggie was a hyena man who grew up in the slums. What did he care? Feelings of worry taken care of, you sunk deeper into the water and closed your eyes.

The feeling that comes with shifting is always a little strange. It’s almost like your skin has been turned to putty and it is remolding itself and when it reaches the desired outcome it snaps back into place and holds like it has been that way the whole time.

Once you felt the transformation had completed you righted yourself in the water and peeked an eye open to look at your friends. Ace and Epel had their mouths wide open in a gasp. One that quickly turned into a smile. Jack looked as though he had just witnessed a miracle and Deuce was still in shock. Ruggie’s reaction was by far the most extravagant. His eyes were wide and his mouth was curved into a questioning gape. He had taken several steps back and his ears lay flat on his head. Behind him his tail bristled and stood fairly straight, pushing up the too large shirt.

You bit your lip and examined their faces trying to come up with a conclusion to what they were feeling.

“That… Is so cool!” Ace blurted out excitedly and ran over to the pool's edge to get a closer look. Deuce and Epel followed him and Jack trotted over as well, but not before snorting at Ruggie. The hyena man looked your form up and down and took in the swirling shades of color that decorated your now sea creature bottom half. He made a small noise before shaking himself and casually patting down the fur on his tail, which was still tense but not as much.

“Ok, of all the things I’ve seen. That, I was not expecting.” You giggled at Ruggie’s flustered reaction and felt yourself relax now that you knew pitchforks and torches weren’t coming out.

The hyena moved closer to the pool and joined your other friends who were staring at you in awe. You blushed uncontrollably as you felt their gazes roam your colorful body. Decorative markings that spread up to your collarbone changed to a darker shade with your blush.

“So like can I touch you?” Deuce smacks his hand against Ace’s chest and gives him this look that says “dude you can’t just say that''. You giggle and glide closer to them before lifting your arm which was for the most part pretty human, but had a lavender shade to it and a long silky strip of webbing that shimmered as it moved. The longest tentacle on your body rose out of the water as well and you shivered as the webbing stuck together in an uncomfortable manner.

Ace leaned forwards and stroked your arm and tentacle. His eyes were filled with curiosity and wonder. Deuce looked a little more unsure but Epel had no problem reaching out and gently caressing your webbing. Ruggie joined him and Deuce eventually stuck his hand out to stroke your arm, but Jack held back and decided that ultimately he only wanted to look.

“Wow! This stuff is so soft!” Epel said excitedly. He was generally pretty quiet so you were glad he was comfortable enough to speak out.

“It’s so colorful. If we had silks this pretty in the savannah then we’d have lots of money. Say, where could I find more of your kind.” Ruggie’s smirk told you that he was just joking but you glared at him anyways and flicked water his way.

The hyena flinched and shook his head before laying his ears back and moving away from the water. Jack and Ace laughed at the antics before Ruggie growled playfully and distracted them from what had happened moments before.

It was then that Ace leaned a bit too far forwards and fell straight into the pool. You jumped and swung your tentacles back, instinctively spreading them out to make yourself look bigger.

You willed your body to relax as you recovered from the little panic attack and laughed when Ace’s head bobbed to the surface. He sputtered and swam over to the edge and climbed out of the pool. He lay on the concrete and breathed heavily while the boys around him cackled. Ace glared and stood up.

“You jerks I’ll show you how you like it.” Deuce shrieked as Ace shoved him into the water. You laughed with everyone else as Deuce came up for air. Sensing a sudden threat of being pushed into the water Ruggie backed up against the gate and watched as Jack pushed Epel in before diving in himself. The five of you giggled and splashed as Ruggie snickered at your antics.

You were so glad your new friends didn’t mind your merform. Even better, they really liked it. It felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders as you dived down to swim with your friends. As the five of you splashed and played with Ruggie distracted with your antics, none of you noticed a dark form smirk in the bushes. Nor the click of the camera that he had with him.

----------

The next day was a nightmare. Apparently someone had spied on you and your friends and photographed you in your merform. People swarmed you asking you all sorts of questions. It was difficult to just get through the halls. Luckily none of the people who stopped and talked to you had anything unkind to say and the stares you received were more curious than malicious but it was still an uncomfortable situation to be in.

For the most part people who knew you were pretty considerate about your space and privacy. Cater seemed absolutely thrilled to know that you were an octopus but only asked if you were alright with everything going on, instead of bombarding you with questions.

Kalim was a little more enthusiastic about the whole situation. Jamil ended up apologizing for him and pulling him away. Vil and Rook subtly commented on your merforms beauty before moving on. Diasomnia rarely came near you but Lilia gave you a sympathetic smile. Trey offered you a few baked sweets as he sensed that you were overwhelmed and as for everyone else you had yet to see them.

The person you were most worried about seeing though was Azul. He was an octopus merman like you, yet you had never seen his merform. Unless you counted his overblot the only time you had seen him in full shift was in the picture you had borrowed from the museum.

He and the Leech twins will probably have an absolute field day over the fact that you’re also a mertype. You worried what Azul was going to think of you hiding it. Over the past few months you had developed a crush on him. You had a plan to confess and everything, but now that the secret was out you were worried that he wasn’t going to like you for keeping it from him. In truth you planned on telling him first, but figured there was no harm in letting your other friends know. Turns out there was and the whole school knew.

Trapped in your thoughts, you failed to notice the two approaching twins and bumped into them as you turned around a corner.

“Hiii~ Shrimpy-chan~!” Floyd’s ever changing mood seemed to pleasant as he greeted you with a smile and not a squeeze.

“Hello, Y/n. How are you today?” Jade's gentleman persona greeted you but failed to hide the questions and mischief in his eyes.

“Just say it already. I know you two already know.” You sighed and watched their faces light up with excitement. Floyd grabbed your arm and took off, dragging you behind him. “Wait!” Soon the three of you arrived at an empty classroom which you were promptly shoved in before the tweels followed, shutting the door behind them.

“Y/n, my apologies for Floyd’s exuberant behavior, but we have been meaning to speak with you in private since the most recent exposure of your true nature.” Jade was calm and collected as always when he spoke and gently fixed your crumpled uniform which had been shifted while running.

“Shrimpy-chan! We have something to tell you!~” Floyd sing-songed before sitting on a desk.

“What? Wait what is it? And where’s Azul? Wouldn’t he want to speak with me too? If this is about a deal the answer is no.” You folded your arms in front of you and put distance between yourself and the seemingly respectful brother. The twins looked at eachother and you caught a glimpse of something passing through their eyes before Floyd pouted.

“Aww, what’s wrong with making deals with us? We promise to be real nice this time and not leave you homeless. You could stay with us at Octavinelle!” You rolled your eyes as Floyd giggled and swung his long legs despite the fact that they could easily reach the floor from his seat.

“The truth is, Azul is jealous.”

“What!” You turned and exclaimed at Jade’s statement. The tall mage nodded and continued with a strange look on his face like he wasn’t bothered by this at all.

“You are far more beautiful than him in your merform and he is bothered by it. Everyone has always shunned him for his octopus body and now you present yourself as one and everyone goes wild with excitement over your gorgeousness. Something he believes to never have possessed.”

You were stunned. Azul was jealous of you. He was upset because you were more beautiful than him. No. You wanted him to love you, not be bothered by you. Why hadn’t you thought of Azul’s insecurities. He just wanted to be an attractive merman and here you were, the same mertype as him and you were advertising your beauty to the world where he had to hide his away due to the fact that he was insecure.

Not bothering to say a word you quickly left the room and raced down the hall. You needed to fix this as soon as possible. Otherwise Azul might not like you ever again. Two pairs of mismatched eyes watched your retreat and shone with anticipation.

“How long do you think it will take?”

“Not long Floyd. Luckily she was already prepared before we released the picture.”

----------

Azul was so over this whole thing. He had rewatched the video and looked at the pictures about 20 times. You were so gorgeous and graceful in your merform; it just made him frustrated that he couldn have been admired for his tentacles. They were simple and slimy so most people hated them yet you were swathed in colorful silks that attracted every creature in the ocean. While most would swim by him or threaten to eat him, any sea animal that came across you would be hypnotised by your beauty.

The worst thing about you being an octopus is that it gave him one more reason to tell himself that you will never love him. He was so drab and you were well amazing. Of all the creatures in the sea you had to be a blanket octopus. If you had been a simple mermaid or even better a common octopus like him then surely he would have a chance with you at least.

A sudden knock on the door startled the mage and he stood quickly to make sure he looked alright before answering the door. You stood anxiously as he opened the door and grabbed his wrist before he had the chance to shut it. Surprisingly, Azul offered no resistance as you dragged him to the entrance of the aquarium.

Octavinelle’s aquarium had two sections, one was for regular fish and the other sea creatures that were on display from the mostro lounge. The other was for the residents. Any and all merfolk could use the aquarium if they felt homesick or separated from their true forms. This was where you chose to place the gift you had made.

Coming to a stop you turned and looked at Azul. He looked confused and excited at the same time. You took this as a good sign.

“Azul. Will you swim with me?” The merman’s eyes widened and he stood there processing your request for nearly a minute before responding.

“Sure.”

Giddy with glee you quickly leapt into the water and shed your clothes before transforming. Rising to the surface you looked up at him from just underneath the surface and he peered back at you.

Strange. He thought for sure he would feel angry again when he saw you but the darling flush on your face and how you were genuinely happy to swim with him gave him another feeling all together. It bubbled inside of him and made him blush as he slowly lowered himself into the cool water beside you.

It had been a while since Azul had consciously shifted so he was a bit worried that he would do it too fast or slow and something would go wrong. Fortunately he was able to shift without incident. Once shifted he suddenly felt very self conscious. As a common octopus he was far more simple and plain compared to your swirling and colorful body.

You didn’t seem to mind however as you twirled and circled around Azul excitedly.

“Come on I have something to show you.” Azul frowned in confusion but followed you regardless. You led him to a sort of grove area that he had never seen before. It was very well hidden but gorgeous as well.

You looked back at him excitedly and pushed through the sea vines to an open area where a ray of sunlight fell across and illuminated the gift you had spent months on. Azul’s jaw dropped when he laid eyes on the octopus pot that sat in the middle of the small room.

The base was grey and made of some type of stone. Around it sat lavender pillars and corals that surrounded the base except for the entrance. The round opening was smoothed and carved in a delicate design that resembled sea coral. Behind it sat a dark velvet cloth that was tied back with a golden rope.Azul assumed that was to block the entrance or allow for privacy.

The inside was decorated with lavish pillows in all sorts of cool shades. They were illuminated by a small yet classy lamp that hung off to the side. The outside of the pot was for the most part smooth and grey with a few purple undertones, but off to one side there sat a carving that resembled the waves and water foam, on top off which held a large pearl that glinted in the sunlight. On the other side a darker grey octopus clung to the top portion of the pot and spread its tentacles out in an elegant manner. Azul took note that the few that rose off the pot appeared to be for hanging things and one looked suspiciously like it was meant to support a staff.

You floated in place for what felt like hours as you waited for Azul to react. You reminded yourself to stay patient as he might not respond to it immediately. When he finally did react he did so without words. He simply pointed to himself and raised his eyebrows. You nodded excitedly before bowing your head bashfully.

“I’m so sorry that I upset you Azul. I never meant for it to get out in the first place. I was actually planning on telling you first and then giving this octopus pot to you since I know you don’t have one. Then things got messed up and everything and I’m so sorry. I think you’re beautiful in your merform and I hope you’ll accept my apology.” Your face burned when you spoke and you swished your tentacles nervously.

“What?” You looked up when Azul spoke and saw confusion on his face. “I’m not upset at you. It’s not your fault you’re beautiful. Besides I could never be upset at you, octopus or not. I was distraught because I thought you were so amazing and I’m so plain and that there was no chance that you’d like me back.” You gasped and watched as his face slowly turned pink.

He dove into the pot and curled up, mentally berating himself for letting that slip. Shocked you glided over to the entrance of the pot and leaned your head in.

“Azul. Do you mean that? Do you really like me?” He didn’t respond, you took a deep breath and admitted your own feelings. “Well I like you so…” His head snapped up and he let his expression grow into an ecstatic smile before coughing into his fist and composing himself.

“Well in that case, do you want to come in and lay with me?” Azul ignored the fact that his face felt like it was on fire and waited as you giggled and moved in beside him.

“I’d love to. What do you think of the pot?” The merman smiled gently at you and spoke as he curled his tentacles around you and yours, him.

“It’s exquisite. I couldn’t love it more. Where did you get it?”

“I made it.” You muttered and flushed at the surprised and impressed look on his face. He shifted closer to you and gripped your hand with his.

“You did an excellent job. Thank you.” Your fingers intertwined with his and you pressed your forehead against his.

“I love you Azul.” You mumbled sleepily.

“I love you Y/n.” He spoke before shutting his eyes and enjoying the warmth that spread through the pot. You’re silky webbing fell across the two of you like a blanket and after a stressful morning Azul allowed himself to slip into a comfortable sleep.

----------

Two pairs of heterochromatic eyes watched the two octopus merpeople sleep soundly inside the pot and smirked with wicked teeth.

“How did you know she was an octopus as well?”

“Floyd, surely you must have noticed. They both smell like takoyaki.” The eels laughed and quietly zipped away, leaving the octopus pot behind.

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arminbitchlover · 3 years

Text

Confession (F!reader x Jean Kirschstein)

content warnings: mild language, smut, oral (F receiving), praise, unprotected sex, alcohol/intoxication

summary: reader and jean have been in love w one another for years, but never actually admitted it. it wasn't until one night at marley, drunk jean decided to change all of that and finally make them his.

word count: 3.1k

DO NOT POST/SHARE MY WORK ON TIKTOK

You forgot what it was like to genuinely have fun with your friends again. You couldn't recall the last time you got together and not worry about your lives being at risk. It didn't matter to you whether it be making bets to see who takes a shot or reminiscing on old times during training, it just made you feel somewhat at peace.

"C'monnnn, y/n!! a single shot won't hurt anybody." Hange playfully shoves your shoulder as they hold a shot glass in front of your face.

"I rather not, but thank you anyways." You giggle and push away the shot from your view.

"More for me." They chug down the alcohol as if it was water, not being affected from the after burning effect.

You never really liked the idea of being drunk; having little to no memory of what you're doing and having to deal with migraines and nausea the next morning did not please you in the slightest. Jean, on the other hand, didn't seem to care much about the consequences.

"Y-Yeah, ssoooo then I-I zoomed in and swoosh titan DEAD!" Jean hiccups and waves around his hands as he tells Connie his, more than likely, fictional kill.

"You sound like an idiot." Connie playfully smacks Jean's shoulder, laughing out loud.

"Youu are— More pleaseee." Jean slurs out his sentences into one while pointing at his empty glass.

"Sure, buddy." Connie smiles and grabs his glass, walking over to the bar.

Before he could call over a bartender to fill Jean's cup, you clear your throat to catch his attention.

"Don't you think Jean is going a bit overboard with the alcohol?" You flash a confused look to Connie and immediately break out into a smile.

"Oh fuck yes, but he's enjoying himself so I'll let this one slide." He sits on the chair next to you, glancing at Jean and Armin having some kind of competition.

"Yeah, he is..." You trail off, letting your mind wander off as you stare at Jean.

You never had the courage to admit to Jean how much he meant to you since the day you met him. You recall it as if it was yesterday, you were practicing with ODM gear and one of your hooks stopped working and Jean didn't waste a second to help you. You remember everything about him at that moment, how he had a grass stain in the mid left of his shirt and how he had a small scratch right under his left eye as well.

Before you got the chance to tell him how you felt, you found out about how Jean was basically in love with Mikasa and fuck did that hurt, but it was over now. That was 4 years ago and now you're here, still with the same little crush but understanding there was no point of trying to make it anymore than that.

"Uhhh, y/n?" Connie snaps you out of your thoughts, noticing your eyes never leaving Jean.

"Huh? Oh— sorry." You turn your head back to Connie, wanting to get Jean out of your thoughts.

"You know, he's stupid if he doesn't see what an amazing person you are." He smiles, immediately seeing through you.

"Is it really that obvious?" You slightly smack your forehead.

"Somewhat, but, hey, you really should try to shoot your shot. Jean got over Mikasa a while back and I notice the way he glances at you when you're not looking." He hits your shoulder with his, getting a small chuckle out of you.

"Yeah as if." You grin and continue your conversation with Connie, unaware that Jean has been shooting quick looks at both of you when neither of you were looking.

Jean never likes thinking about his feelings, let alone talking about them, especially after being rejected by Mikasa, but he will never get over how everything about you causes butterflies in his stomach.

He will never forget when he noticed how perfect you were, it was during dinner with all the scouts and the usual argument between him and Eren had arisen. Everyone else was telling Jean to quit and that he was being rude for no reason, but you were the only one who stood up for him. He will never forget how you looked, you had a bruise on your forearm and a gash on your right cheek from cutting yourself with a branch, but he still thought you look absolutely beautiful

Now it was two years later, and he never actually thought of ever telling you how he felt since he just assumed that it was some type of infatuation, but it was so much more than that. Before he had the chance to tell you how he felt, his self doubt clouded his mind, telling him that it was just a one sided crush and he believed it.

"Armin, d-do yerrr think y/n and Connie— together?" Jean clumsily turned his head to Armin, seemingly forgetting what they were talking about in the first place.

"Jean, you're completely over analyzing them. They're just friends." Armin laughs, quickly noticing Jean's jealousy.

"I-I hope so," He hiccups, still staring down Connie and notices you laughing at something he said.

"Oh, fuck this." Jean tightens his hands into fists, gets up and walks towards you, not aware that he was leaning to his left.

"CONNIE!" He grabs his best friend from his collar, pulling him out of your seat.

"JEAN— WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?" Connie grips Jean's wrist, pushing him away.

You stand there in shock, not knowing how to help either of them.

"Y-Y-You know how I feel about y/n and youuu still decide— steal her from me," He stammers while using the bar table for balance.

You and Connie both look at each other, completely stunned from what just came out of his mouth.

"Jean..." You trail off and slowly make your way towards him, scared that what he says is too good to be true.

"Whattt?" He makes eye contact, genuinely curious why you were calling him.

"Maybe we should go back to the hotel and get you some water." Connie rubs Jean's back, completely disregarding what had just transpired between them.

"Wait—" Jean pulls away from Connie and faces towards you.

"I love-love you, okay?" He grazes his fingers across your forearm, not thinking much of what he just confessed.

You feel your face start to heat up and your heart begins to pound rapidly in your throat. You couldn't believe what you just heard, you think it's some sort of twisted lie that his drunken self has just stirred up. It was all too good to be true, right?

"You're wasted, Jean." You move your arm away, doubting everything he just spat out.

"I knew you didn't f-feel the samee way." He looks down on the floor, looking as if he wanted to barf and cry at the same time.

"Let's uh— go, Jean." Connie gives you a weak smile before taking him out of the bar.

You sit alone for a few minutes, not knowing what to do with yourself before deciding that you just needed to end this night already. You get your things and make your way to your hotel and check in.

You grab the keycard from the receptionist and head to your room, feeling completely empty inside. You didn't really feel like staying up any longer after what happened even though it was barely 11:30, so you took a shower and went to bed with Jean's confession playing repeatedly in your head.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

You wake up to knocking at your door, leaving you completely startled. You rub your eyes before looking at the clock, 4:54.

"What the fuck.." You mumble to yourself and get out of bed and check the peephole, seeing Jean with no shirt and pajama pants.

Your chest tightens and you immediately open the door, not giving it any thought.

"Y/n..." He rubs the back of his neck, not making any eye contact.

"Jean." You keep your body somewhat hidden behind the door, not knowing what to do.

"Can I please come in?" He looks at you, hoping you'll say yes.

"Well, are you still drunk?" You smile, trying to lighten up the mood.

"Oh no, I— um slept it off, I just have a headache." He laughs as you widen the door and allow him to walk in.

"Is everything okay?" You sit on the bed, hoping that he doesn't bring up anything he said at the bar.

"So, uh Connie told me everything." You feel your heart drop to your stomach, already assuming what his next words are going to be.

"And?" You close your eyes, preparing for the worst.

"I can't really take back what I said, you deserve to know the truth," Your eyes widen and you turn to look at him, his eyes on you, "I just need to know if you feel the same way."

"Y-You really like me?" You feel butterflies in your stomach, everything beginning to feel so surreal.

"Of course I do, what is there not to like about you." He chuckles and takes a seat next to you.

"Well um- I like you too... For a while now actually." You hesitate as you realize that this was real, Jean really sees you as more than just a friend.

"Really?" His face turns red, not noticing that he immediately took a hold of your hand.

"Yes, really." You squeeze his hand for reassurance.

You both stare into each other's eyes for a little bit, enjoying one another's presence, unaware that both of you start leaning in at the same time

Your lips slightly brush against each other, feeling the electricity trill through your body before connecting them and letting the warmth of his body consume you.

You've never shared a kiss like this before; one that's so deep and passionate and could almost feel all the feelings you have for one another being poured onto it.

"God, you're perfect," Jean whispers as he slowly lowers you to the point when you're laying flat on the bed and he's on top, both of his legs on each side of yours.

You glide your hand across his chiseled jaw while he has a firm grip on your waist, scared that if he let go it would all be over. You completely underestimated how much you wanted him, not just physically, but all of him.

"Do you want this?" He lifts his head and rubs his thumb in tiny circles on your cheek.

"I do." You grab his face with both of your hands, pulling him in for another slow and sensual kiss.

You grind slightly against him, already feeling the arousal pooling low in your stomach just from a kiss. You slide your hands down to his abs, lightly tracing them with your index finger.

He moves his hands down to your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it off to the side. His eyes widen, completely in shock that you were without a bra.

"What?" You giggle, lifting his chin to make eye contact.

"Nothing." He grins and gives you a peck, before turning his focus back down to your chest.

He starts by kissing on your collarbone, intertwining his hands with yours by the sides of your head; tightening his grip each time he marks your skin.

"Shit." You exhale heavily, loving the intimacy Jean created with everything he was doing to you.

He made his way to your tits, taking his hand to massage your left breast while he kisses and lightly sucks the other one with care. You run your hands through his hair, taking in everything he was doing to you.

"Is it okay if I- um go down on you?" He breathes out, feeling his hard cock get tight against his pants.

"Of course." You feel your face heat up and help him pull down your underwear.

He pepper kisses all the way down your stomach before reaching your slick center. You feel your heartbeat start to quicken, already feeling prepared as this was something you would think about endlessly, but before he did anything you feel your legs being hoisted onto his shoulders and his grip on your outer thighs become more firm.

You suddenly felt the pad of his thumb lightly press against your clit, involuntarily causing your hips to buck up. You glance down and see a smile across his face.

"I'm going to take my sweet time with you and I'll make sure you feel nothing but pleasure, okay?" He smirks at you and goes back down, not waiting for a response.

"O-Okay." You took in a sharp breath, unexpectedly feeling his hot wet tongue take in your arousal that covered your slit.

He focuses on your clit, doing sloppy circles at a tedious pace. Even though he just started, you love every second of this. It makes you feel so special to have someone wanting to spend a great deal of time just pleasing you and not worry about anything else.

His hands slowly rub up and down on the outer sides of your thighs, making his actions so much more intimate. He continues his sensual pace, as you grip his brown locks, feeling fuzzy.

"Mm, Jean," You moan, grinding against his mouth wanting a bit more.

He didn't hesitate, seemingly already knowing what you wanted, and slips his middle finger into you. He still wasn't rushing anything, wanting to make everything last as long as possible, wanting to ensure your first time with each other was nothing but perfect.

It slips into you effortlessly, taking his finger in while your walls clech against it. While you don't realize, Jean's dick is seeping with precum, making a small wet spot go through his boxers and onto his sweatpants.

"Another please." You're so ready to gush all over him; you never understood the effect unhurried foreplay could have on you until this moment. You didn't think it could turn you on this much, let alone cum, but fuck, Jean was making it happen and it was coming fast.

He pushes in his ring finger, curling them both to hit your g-spot, causing your vision to swim.

"Cum on my face, please," Jean mumbles, slightly picking up the speed but nothing too harsh and abrupt.

It didn't take long for you to fall apart, your thighs trembling against him as you moan out his name while gushing on his face and fingers.

"You sound so pretty saying my name." He pulls away and smirks at you, gently rubbing your clit to bring you back down from your high.

"Well maybe you should try and make me do it again," You giggle, feeling ready for what was about to happen.

He makes his way back up your body, pulling off his pants and boxers before aligning himself.

"Are you sure you want this?" He looks into your eyes, worried that he'll fuck up somehow and ruin everything.

"Yes, I'm sure." You pull him in for a gentle kiss, feeling him push into you and stretch you out.

You gasp, not expecting him to be as big as he was. You feel your walls clench against him trying to take him in as smoothly as possible even if it was borderline painful.

"Shit— are you okay?" Jean stops, giving you a worried look, noticing discomfort flash across your face.

"I'm fine, keep going," You reassure him and you mean it. It wasn't anything that was excruciatingly painful, but rather just pressure and soreness and you had to admit it felt fucking amazing.

"I'm still going to take it slow alright? I just— really want to enjoy this moment with you." He kisses your forehead and moves your hands to the top of your head, holding them with one hand and the other gripping the bed frame.

So many thoughts go through your head at once. One part of you was so happy that you and Jean were finally together, admitting to each other what you've kept hidden for years. The other was so fucking scared, scared that there was no certainty that either of you would be alive by next week. So you understood Jean's words and you wanted to enjoy every second with him as well, as if it were your last.

He slides further into you, already feeling his cock start to twitch in you from how tight you are.

"Fuuckk," He drawls, feeling his tip hit your cervix.

"Y-You feel so good," You whimper, feeling yourself coat his dick in arousal as your back starts to arch against his stomach.

He keeps his slow and sensual pace, resting his forehead against yours while giving you soft kisses between each thrust.

You close your eyes, savoring what he feels like inside you, his sluggish movements making you feel fuzzy and warm.

You feel the pressure build up in your stomach again, feeling him hit a spot so deep in you that you didn't realize was even there.

"'m gonna cum again." Your eyes roll back and you move your hips against him, seeing stars as he puts a bit more pressure into your sweet spot, feeling your walls start to flutter.

"Don't hold back." He moves his hand that is holding yours back down to your clit, setting you over the edge.

"Jean!" You throw your head back, losing yourself in the waves of sensations and feeling yourself tightly clutch on his cock.

"Fuck, I think I'm gonna cum too." He immediately pulls out and begins pumping himself.

Your stomach becomes painted with hot white spurts of cum, seeing Jean's face wash over with bliss and relief.

"That was... wow." Jean smiles and pulls you in for one final kiss before putting back on his clothes and walks over to the bathroom to get paper towels.

"That was worth the wait," You giggle, reaching your hand forward as you try to grab the paper towels from his hand.

"No, please, let me." He lightly pushes you back down, gently wiping down your stomach and making sure you were clean before laying back down next to you.

"Thank you, Jean." You rest your head against his chest, listening to his heart beat.

"Why are you thanking me?" He clumsily traces your back, taking in your scent.

"Making me happy." You pull away and look into his eyes, caressing his cheek.

"Well in that case, I promise I will do everything I can to make you as happy as possible for the rest of our lives." He chuckles and kisses your temple before pulling you back into his chest, both of you drifting off to sleep.

#jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein smut #attack on titan smut #attack on titan #snk jean #jean snk #tw: intoxication

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