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wonysugar · 11 days

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close the door | hanni pham

synopsis : you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she.

genre : fluffy smut!

pairing : non-idol!hanni x gf!femreader

tags : they’re in love your honor, lots of kissing and making out, cuddling, l-bombs, top!femreader, bottom!hanni, they’re both virgins, fingering, clit play, nipple play, neck kissing, hanni’s dogs are mentioned twice lawl, lots of comfort, lots of consent! they’re literally just lovey dovey girlfriends having sex for the first time aheheh

warnings : none :]

word count : 2.5k

a/n : if you’re rereading this and thinking “hey the synopsis changed and there wasn’t an author’s note before!!” well you’d be right I POSTED THIS IN A RUSH I’M SO SORRYYFKEJF

anyways!! this is just to say that this fic is inspired by the lovely writer that is sorry for tagging you twice ahh @facefullofsadness’s fic right over here :] sooo GO READ THAT FIRST! it’s truly lovely and i really enjoyed reading it, hence why i wrote thisskfke. thank you for readingg<33

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

you would die for your girlfriend, actually, even if you only started dating barely a few months ago. who could blame you? that’s what happens when you’ve been best friends prior to your relationship for so, so, so long. it simply started with a ‘hi! my name’s hanni! what’s yours?’ from her part at the innocent age of seven and just like that, years later, you guys were still inseparable.

so really, your life-long friendship and months-long relationship were both with the same gorgeous and outgoing girl, and the only thing distinguishing those two was the label you used to describe them.

“bro i genuinely don’t understand why he doesn’t just… run away. cause— get this, there’s obviously a murderer in his house right? and what does he decide to do about that? just stay in there. like, okay.. like i’m aware they needed plot but lord, i don’t know at least make it somewhat realistic you know what i mean—“ was what your girlfriend said, on her bed as she sat down in between your legs and leaned her back against you, her head facing forward and resting on your shoulder.

you simply nodded along to her words as you played with her hair, trying your hardest to stay focused on the piece of media before you whilst also paying your utmost attention to her, despite her constant ranting and criticizing of the entire movie. you, having originally liked the film, were now conflicted about your opinion on it. it’s not like she was wrong, her very heavy criticism had to have come from somewhere, after all, but you couldn’t help but slightly appreciate the storyline. so, you weren’t really sure what you felt about it anymore.

one thing you were certain of, however,

was that your girlfriend looked really good while passionately rambling. like, way too good. she had tied her dark hair into a high ponytail, it also looked wavy due to the rain that was pouring on you guys earlier, her messy bangs fell perfectly onto her forehead. and her smile? it always looked perfect. she always looked perfect.

and since you apparently weren’t hiding your admiration well enough, she very quickly noticed it.

she giggled teasingly. her voice sweet like honey, her australian accent more prominent than usual, she spoke up, “hello?” before full-on laughing, “were you even listening to me?”

you could only kiss her, that seemed like the only appropriate response in the heat of the moment. she, of course, kissed back just as lovingly before pulling away moments after, a curious and confused look on her face.

“no seriously, what is up with you?” she kept teasing, smiling stupidly as she kept her gaze lingering on yours for the following seconds, her eyes unconsciously drifting to your lips. “you look stupid.”

“and you look really pretty.” was what you whispered back to her, earning a shy smile and an exaggerated eye roll from her. immediately, you made your lips come into contact with hers again. it felt as if the world would stop spinning if you didn’t, like a slowly growing urge to keep touching her suddenly came over you and you needed to fill it.

“so.. so pretty.” you mumbled, so quietly that it was almost to yourself, before going back in. you allowed yourself to make the kiss deeper and slid her tongue across her soft lips as you demanded entrance. you could hear her let out slight noises, she clearly was not expecting you to do anything of the sorts, at least not right now. she was a tad bit confused, but let you in, who in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to kiss their girlfriend? immediately, your hands wrapped around her waist whilst you continued kissing her lovingly, your tongue roaming every part of her mouth.

it didn’t take long before your hands started naturally reaching under her top, caressing on her tummy and progressively going higher with each sound she let out.

you pulled away, slightly worried of going too far, “c-can.. can i continue, hanni?”

you were scared, terrified, even! despite knowing each other for years, you’d only been dating for a few months; those are two completely different things! it’s not like you see your completely platonic best friend’s naked body every tuesday. even then, despite dating, you still haven’t gotten that stage of the relationship. and on top of that,

the two of you were a proper pair of virgins. you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she. you didn’t want to seem like an inexperienced loser to her, you wanted to take care of her and make her feel good. what if that didn’t happen? what if you made it awkward between the two of you?? it was nerve-racking.

as if barging into your mind and reading your thoughts, wanting to reassure you, she grabbed your hand in a gentle manner before nodding. then, she spoke up, “can you close the door?”

“there’s.. nobody home, though?”

she giggled, “oh i know, it’s just that i don’t want the dogs to potentially walk in on this.”

you groaned dramatically, laughing and insisting that you were too lazy to get up and that her dogs wouldn’t understand the situation if they even walked in. she, in response, just tapped your knee with a cheeky smile, encouraging you to stand up.

“come on y/n, close the door. think about milly and mia; think about their innocence!” she exaggerated.

after playfully hitting her arm and laughing along with her, you got up, proceeded to close and lock the door like she asked you to and eventually walked back to her bed, sitting back on it and positioning yourself the way you originally were, her back to you again.

“happy?” you asked in a fake arrogant tone.

she hummed, radiant, “yes, very happy.” before turning her head just right and kissing you again.

eventually back to the original rhythm of the kiss, you placed your hands back on her stomach again, slowly caressing and teasing higher and higher with time. once you reached her bra, you proceeded to impatiently unhook it, immediately taking it off of her.

her breathing got heavier with each second that passed, partially due to nervousness, probably. you’d be lying if you said that wasn’t the case for you too. the more your hands carefully roamed her body, the more self-conscious you got, you truly had no idea what you were doing.

then, as if something in your mind clicked, you had an idea. what if you just did to her whatever you enjoyed doing to yourself in moments like these? that could work.. right? maybe??

you glided your hand upwards, your finger lightly grazing her nipple. in response to the sudden movement, a lewd sound accidentally escaped from her pretty lips, her breath hitching. that sound was a small moan.

a small one, barely audible, yet it was still enough for you to feel the activation of every single neuron residing in your brain.

then suddenly, it’s like the concept of making love to her wasn’t as nerve-racking as it originally was.

“s-sorry..” she apologized, seeming slightly embarrassed.

you kissed her cheek, reassuring her, “don’t apologize, i wanna hear you.”

despite it being an accident, she seemed to enjoy the sensation of your hand on her chest, so you went back to teasing her tits and gently groping them before you eventually asked, “is it okay if i go further..?”

nodding in a keen manner, she swallowed her saliva, then breathed out her response, “yes. yes keep— keep going. please.”

well shit! even if you wanted to stop, it’s not like you could, not with how good she sounded pleading for you.

not wasting any more time, you proceeded to separate one of your hands from her chest and quickly slid it downwards; to the band of her sweatpants. now, of course, your other hand was still in its original place, working its magic, but you wanted her to feel more. so much more.

you wanted to convey every surge of affection you violently felt for her into pleasure. and, if there was one thing you surely knew how to do, it was kissing her.

so, you started kissing on her neck, which she didn’t expect whatsoever, and still heavily concentrated on the hand you had on her breast. then, you pulled on the sleeve of her tee just enough to expose her shoulder and moved your mouth towards it, nipping and gently licking it.

your hand now fully slipped into her pants, you teased her entrance through the fabric of her underwear as you kept kissing her naked shoulder. you listened to her attentively and took mental notes of her reactions; so far, her breathing got heavier, her thighs slightly clenched around your hand and she was now frequently biting her lip.

plus, her panties were wet.

did all of that mean you were doing good? …perhaps it did!

and did her drenched underwear make you short circuit? perhaps it did as well!

“d-d’you feel okay?” you asked, before going back to slowly kissing her shoulder. she threw you a quick glance, chest heaving up and down.

“s-so okay.” she giggled.

her smile being contagious, you found yourself doing the exact same thing, content with the answer she gave you.

soon enough, you traced your finger up her clothed slit before eventually sliding it into the undergarment she wore, making her shudder. after what felt like an eternity, you could feel her slick coat your digits from one swipe of the finger.

it was tantalizing.

growing impatient, you quickly yet carefully settled your middle and ring finger on her swollen clit, making slow circular motions on it, looking at her in the process. full on whimpering, this time, she stared back at you, no longer embarrassed. she wanted to let you know how good you were making her feel, hence why she was getting louder with each movement you made, and it filled you with enough confidence and adrenaline to gently push her head towards you, leaning in for a kiss.

thankfully, she kissed you back, deeply at that, her eyes closed and her quiet moans muffled.

you pulled away after a few moments, “tell me if it hurts, okay?” you reminded her. she simply nodded, brain all fuzzy from arousal.

she grabbed your other hand and intertwined her fingers with yours. “g-go slowly.” she whispered.

“i will.” you affirmed.

slowly and gently, you slid your fingers into her core, making sure not to go too fast or too rough. thankfully, the wetness was making it easier for you, and probably for her as well. every time that your girlfriend’s breath hitched, that her hand gripped harder on yours or, hell, every time that her eyes closed, you stopped in your tracks and double checked to see if you were hurting her, so it took a little while for your digits to fully penetrate her.

fortunately, she assured you that you weren’t, in fact, hurting her. some moments just felt more comfortable than others, is all.

once they were fully in, you gave her time to get used to the feeling, still double checking on her state every now and then. after a few deep breaths, she nodded.

“i-i’m ready.”

you started to pump your fingers in and out of her, taking in all of her as your speed slowly increased as time went on. naturally, as more time passed, you felt the urge to make her feel good get even stronger.

that’s when you decided to increase the pace, your fingers curling on just the right spot inside her, pumping faster and faster as your thumb played with her clit.

“is this okay baby—” you asked.

“f-fuck— yes y/n that feels good—“ was what she moaned out, cutting you off. a feeling of bliss progressively and clearly overtaking her whole body.

when you tried to look at her despite only being able to see her side profile, you could’ve sworn you saw an angel. her cheeks were slightly tinted with a pinkish color and her eyebrows were upturned, her whole face contorted with pleasure, her skin glistening with sweat. her eyes hooded with lust, hanni looked down at herself and attentively watched as you played with her. your fingers swimming in her slick, navigating in her folds the way a skilled sailor would the vast ocean, it was hypnotizing, and she realized how this was probably the way you got yourself off on a regular day, and she couldn’t help but moan at both the thought and the sensation.

you made her feel good, you made her feel happy, loved. you always did.

amidst the chaos that was her messy bed, the setting somehow looked better than every piece of artwork you’d ever seen combined. the bed creaked ever so slightly, and she looked and sounded so beautiful, especially with the way the sun set directly on her parted lips at that moment.

you were certain that your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“i love you so much, hanni.” you softly said, kissing the back of her ear whilst you kept fingering her. she couldn’t form proper words, so she simply tightened her grip on your hand more, as a way to say it back.

then, once you picked up a stable pace for a few minutes, her back arched against you, her breathing getting heavier, practically panting. her hand’s grip on yours getting tighter, you felt her hot breath hit your neck once she settled her head into the crook of it.

“y/n— baby i think i’m- i’m— mmh—“

that was the moment she reached climax, letting out a long and loud moan as she rode out her orgasm, bucking her hips against your hand before smashing her lips onto yours. quietly, she let a few i love yous slip out of her mouth between kisses, her hand resting on your head, fingers intertwined with your soft hair.

you particularly made sure to say it back to her every time.

you pulled out your fingers and took your hand out of her pants. still coming down from her high, she smiled at you with tired eyes and kissed your cheek. you smiled back, looking at her lovingly.

“d-did i do okay?”

she giggled, “..are you seriously asking me that? do you not see me right now?”

you raised your eyebrows, playful, “for all i know you were faking it.”

“yeah, actually.. i was faking it, especially with how wet i was from the whole thing. aren’t i such a good actor y/n? it’s almost like i legitimately came really hard—”

“shut up.” you elbowed her, laughing. she gave you a cheeky smile before she got up from the bed, grabbed a pair of new underwear from her drawer and opened the bedroom door, heading straight towards the living room to pet her dogs.

“hey y/n?”

“hm?”

“wanna bake brownies in a bit?”

“uhm.. yes? what kind of question is that?? let me just go wash my hands first.” you replied, getting up and walking towards the bathroom before adding on, “unless you wanna eat very unsanitary cum-buttered brownies, of course—“

you heard her contagious laugh from across the hallway, making you smile to yourself, “you’re fucking disgusting— go wash your hands, you weirdo!”

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

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messiahzzz · 13 days

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it is a conscious choice of mystra to initially present herself as this benevolent, courteous, and merciful being. a practiced and perfected approach she knows will compel gale to follow her demands with the least amount of resistance on his part. he already refused to follow her instructions when she sent elminster to request his death — his effective father figure, gale’s self-proclaimed hero, mentor, and the one who plucked him from obscurity in the first place — so another appeal is in order.

narrator: "elminster's visit weighs heavy on your mind. his face you did not expect to see again." narrator: "when you last saw him, you were in your prime. no orb, no tadpole. a mage of growing renown, all power, pride, and potential - beloved by the goddess of magic herself. narrator: "it's one thing to have fallen from such heights, but to have elminster himself now witness your humiliation is almost unbearable." gale: [his disappointment cuts deeper even than mystra's. he was your hero.] narrator: "while most know of elminster the legend, few know him as you have. he plucked you from obscurity. offered you his guidance. his faith. and most recently, his pity."

yet it is curious how quickly she changes her tune once gale doesn’t readily agree to her demand to return the crown of karsus to her, no questions asked. or even dares to impugn, or criticize her reasoning for leaving him to die.

gale: "a great ask indeed. you've given me much to think on - as you always did." mystra: "so be it. follow the needles of your own wisdom. we shall see how truly it leads you."

gale: "because i disobeyed you. you punished me for it." mystra: "how so? you think i should have cured you? erased the consequences of your actions?"

gale: "you break up with me, cut me off from the weave, leave me to die, and that's all you have to say? 'you look well'?" mystra: "i did not come here to suffer a mortal's admonitions. certainly not yours."

gale: "you were threatened. you realised you couldn't control me." mystra: "you were many things to me, but never a threat. and never a saviour." nodecontext: sharper, almost a warning - don't entertain such thoughts, gale. you won't like where they lead.

gale: "i don't know. i need time to think." mystra: "so be it. follow the needle of your own wisdom. we shall see how truly it leads you."

particularly interesting to note is how she uses his surname as a tool to chastise and taunt him. only referring to him as "gale dekarios" in the context of him displeasing her, when he doesn't readily obey, whether he simply wavers (needing time to think) or outright declines her instructions. she uses the very name he had actively discarded and refuses to be referred to at this point in time. a deliberate reminder of his fallible humanity, of the flaws he tried to distance himself from. she knows this.

gale: "i won't let you down again. when the absolute is vanquished, i will surrender karsus' powers to you. you have my word." mystra: "thank you. may the weave's light guide your purpose, and it's wisdom guide your hand." mystra: "the future of magic rests on your shoulders, gale of waterdeep". mystra: "i promise you - it is a burden you are strong enough to bear."

gale: "i don't need your forgiveness. the crown of karsus will be mine, and the karsite weave will obey me." mystra: "crown yourself, gale dekarios, and you will learn what it is to carry such weight upon your shoulders." mystra: "if it does not crush you, i will." nodecontext: an icy edge entering her voice - a hint of a challenge gale will face if he pursues this course. nodecontext: here we glimpse the true, unimaginable power of mystra. she's still in control of herself, but her anger should be palpable.

i have already addressed the overall topic of mystra & gale's relationship in several posts i wrote some time ago [x] [x] [x]. however, since then we have received new snippets of information with patch 5 that shed more light on the progression of their relationship as a whole. this post is intended to be an update of sorts, containing a more comprehensive list, as well as lore excerpts for added context and proof. i will split this essay into several sections for coherency — buckle in, cause this is going to be a long one!

✧ mystra's history of manipulation ✧

one of the epilogue letters revealed that elminster first sought gale out when he was about 8 years old. which according to gale's canon age being 35 (as listed on his idle champions character sheet) means that their first meeting occurred around 1465 DR. although elminster's wording suggests that this may merely be an estimate on his side.

furthermore - in the ending where gale dies in the attempt at ascension, raphael has the following to say:

raphael: "you were the spark of ambition that rekindled gale's ambitions, after mystra had so cleverly put them to rest."

insinuating that mystra did make an active effort to keep gale in line, to temper his ambition, lest his thirst for more knowledge would eventually prove bothersome for her. keeping an eye on him at all times, keeping him close, placating him, and urging him to be patient.

what distinctly stood out to me is how this also aligns with some of azuth's quotes in the temptation of elminster, while he gives advice to a then-young sage of shadowdale.

we are her treasures, lad—we are what she holds most dear, the rocks she can cling to in the storms of wild art. she needs us to be strong, far stronger than most mortals ... tempered tools for her use. being bound to us by love and linked to us to preserve her very humanity, she finds it hard to be harsh to us—to do the tempering that must be done. she began the tempering of you long ago; you are her 'pet project', if you will. [...]

"you serve mystra differently. she watches you and learns the human side of magic in all it's hues from your experiences and the doings of those you meet—foes and friends alike. yet the time has come for you to change, and grow, to serve as she'll need you to, in the centuries ahead."

and yet again, there is a reoccurring pattern in her relationship with sammaster, another of her chosen, as well:

sammaster fell to his knees and wept upon mystra's feet. they ended up spending ten days together. this made him the first chosen of mystra since the seven sisters. when he asked for the reason that mystra had chosen him, she replied that she had foreseen that one of her chosen would be killed in battle, and he would be the replacement. he left this encounter feeling as though he and mystra were in love.

mystra is no stranger to fostering feelings of boundless devotion that weren't present before. observing her potential chosen, appearing before them, promising them power. luring them into service without the knowledge of what this may entail. where other gods may instill fear, mystra instills the notion of love. practicing seduction while mirroring her chosen's humanity. intentionally portraying herself as someone sympathetic and approachable. syncing their language, highlighting mutuality, making them feel favored and seen. mystra sees no need in the act of divine separation, a display of godlike grandeur — inimitable, menacing, larger than life, towering above her chosen. instead, her manifestation is purposefully unassuming. she meets them in the form of a woman in her early 30s, conventionally attractive, palpable, and appealing to the masses — a human figure. the very embodiment, the very ideal of traditional beauty an impressionable, young wizard may have.

gale: "i can't quite describe it, the need i sometimes feel to see her - to draw the filaments of fantasy into existence." gale: "no sculpture or painting could ever do her justice, only the fabric that she herself is and embodies."

gale: "in her likeness, i used to read a thousand stories. she was beauty, wisdom, elegance, power... she contained universes."

player: “what did mystra’s attention feel like?” gale: “love. [...] perhaps it was not quite love, but you see, the wizard was but a very young man. it was most certainly love to him. [...]"

how we see her in the game is very likely the same form she chose to present to a young gale. beauty, wisdom, elegance. perceived perfection, yet humble in her divinity.

the mystra of now (1490s DR) retains some of the memories of all of her earlier selves, and the relatively young and inexperienced midnight is “in there,” but wholly subsumed. mystra could generate an avatar or seeming that might fool some mortals into thinking they were meeting midnight, but it would be an act. [x]

generating an avatar in the form of a mortal she subsumed. purporting mutuality. midnight was just another mortal added to mystra's long list of "human stock" — vessels intended to preserve her power. favored, chosen, and ultimately suppressed by the very essence of mystra herself. midnight is no equal piece of mystra, the deity, there is no conscious part of the mortal that remains. [x] the mystra that currently exists is a union of the original mystryl, as well as all the other reincarnations of her that melded into her being. fragments of their minds that linger in the weave, scraps of humanity that could perhaps aid in her knowledge and understanding to prevent further betrayals in the future.

mystra's approach has always been indirect, instead of being outright menacing and portentous. the fact that mystra isn't written like the other gods in the game doesn't mean she's more sympathetic to gale's struggles or more inclined to understand human nature. her concern will always be the preservation of her domain and her hold over the weave — to do as the gods do.

gale: "you're one to talk. how many innocents were you prepared to sacrifice if i detonated the orb?" mystra: "such eddies are unexceptional. souls arrive and depart your plane with every tide, in circumstances just and unjust." nodecontext: matter of fact, not interested in these kinds of specifics

ketheric thorm: "who decides what is right? the gods did not care for right and wrong when they dismantled my life piece by piece." ketheric thorm: "and when i tried to buy it back, it cost me everything - everything." ketheric thorm: "we are copper pieces in their belts. tokens to be traded for scraps."

it is often mentioned that mystra makes her attention known by brushing against her potential chosen. whispering to them, touching their skin, eliciting a tingling sensation. which is also how mystra chose to reveal herself to ariel manx (midnight) in 1353 DR, while she was 21 years of age.

gale mentions feeling a similar sensation if he chooses to destroy the summoning circle in balthazar's office at moonrise and thereby receives her blessing.

gale: "did you feel that?" gale: "if i wasn't surrounded on all sides by the darkness of the shadow-cursed lands, i'd think it was mystra herself brushing against my skin."

mystra isn't above using manipulations to get her way. once again evident in her instigating dornal and elué silverhand's union in the first place, as well as intentionally withholding information from dornal that she actively took possession of his wife, elué. to ensure that they would indeed produce her offspring — the seven sisters — her chosen and the vessels to house her power.

where elué had previously been reluctant to acknowledge dornal's advances, he found them suddenly returned with great fervor once mystra took possession of her body. [x]

"by the time elué was carrying her final child, she was in effect a lich - a crumbling shell kept alive only through mystra's power. dornal was shocked at her deterioration. he sought magical aid to cure his wife, and when he learned from the most powerful priest he could find that his wife was possessed by an intelligent force of great power, a sickened dornal tried to slay her. he struck off her head one moonlight night as they walked together in a wooded glade. mystra was forced to reveal herself. dornal was shattered by what he had done, and aghast at how he - and especially elué - had been used." [x]

dornal, who had been kept in the dark throughout, abandoned his lands and children after slaying his wife, traveling to the north, with the plan to seek his own death. he repeatedly tried to poison himself, yet mystra wouldn't allow him suicide and magically neutralized the lethal doses to keep him alive against his will. after his death in 797 DR, mystra turned him into another servant of hers: the watcher — one who wanders the realms, seeking out new potential chosen to this day.

which brings us to...

✧ mystra's foresight and her "death" ✧

mystra possesses a degree of foresight - she foresaw the time of troubles and her own passing at the hands of helm in 1358 DR for defying him and her attempt to converse with the overgod ao without the tablets of fate. the very reason why she sought out mortal vessels to house her power (the seven sisters) — to avoid disaster should another entity win control over her in the chaotic period of wildly fluctuating power struggles that was the time of troubles. this divine power slumbers within these individuals, which she can call upon.

in 1385 DR mystra (midnight) was struck down by cyric and shar, which brought upon the spellplague.

in 1479 DR mystra was located by elminster inside a cave in cormyr, guarding her mortal body. she survived cyric's assassination by inhabiting the body of a bear, while still able to contact her chosen. she returned to her full power in 1487 DR.

the important part, that i've often seen outright ignored or misinterpreted by fandom altogether, is that mystra wasn’t actually “dead” for over a hundred years. at least not in the way we perceive it. we can’t equate her death with our mortal understanding of it. her powers were diminished to an extreme and she was weakened, yet she was still able to communicate. it was in her power to contact her chosen and to guide them. evident by her calling for elminster through her telepathic link and directing him to recruit other chosen for her to restore her power.

the plot of baldur’s gate 3 takes place in 1492 DR. meaning gale's actual year of birth would be 1457 DR. while elminster likely sought him out around 1465 DR, when he was only 8 years old. however, i once again want to emphasize that “couldn’t have been more than 8 summers old” indicates that this may merely be an estimate on elminster's side. he could’ve possibly reached out to him even earlier than that, or perhaps later. gale was 22 year old at the time when mystra was found in her diminished state by elminster in 1479 DR.

✧ mystra's awareness✧

gale: “so, all it took to get mystra’s attention was to learn how to reforge an artifact that once destroyed her." gale: "it's obvious, when you stop to think about it."

even if you may personally be skeptical of elminster’s insertion into gale’s life at age 8 (as well as mystra's ability to contact her chosen during her death) to be enough evidence of mystra’s attention — she had to be aware of him for his talents alone since he was a mere child. there is no way around this.

player: "how could she possibly know we read a book? hasn't she got more important things to worry about?" gale: "the weave is a highly sensitive magical network threaded through all life on this plane. any shift in magical energy, no matter how small, is akin to a beacon, alerting mystra to its cause." gale: "opening a book like the annals of karsus was akin to us shooting a firework spelling 'look at us, mystra!' directly into the skies of elysium. she knows."

mystra IS the weave, as gale himself has stated several times. it is an extension of her being, threaded through all life. by touching the weave one is directly touching the goddess of magic herself. mystra is aware of any magic user, able to deepen this contact at her choosing.

shadowheart: "isn't it so, that every time you speak as you cast a spell, you're endeavouring to call upon mystra?" shadowheart: "i'm surprised she still listens to you." gale: "she has no choice - she's sworn to hear all magic users. even me." gale: "i'm sure she at least stuffs her fingers in her ears to muffle my invocations."

gale described himself as a child prodigy. a virtuoso that was able to manipulate and compose the weave at will from an early age.

gale: "magic is... my life. i've been in touch with the weave for as long as i can remember. there's nothing like it."

gale: "i'm what one might call a wizard prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the weave, but compose it, much like a musician or a poet."

gale: "such was my skill that it earned me the attention of the mother of magic herself. the lady of mysteries. the goddess mystra." gale: "she revealed herself to me and she became my teacher. in time, she became my muse, and later, even my lover."

someone who was able to perform feats way beyond the skillset of his peers. he managed to wield the blackstaff itself, accidentally facing an irritated death slaad, and lived to tell the tale. he summoned and befriended tara, as well as the magma mephit, k'ha'ssji'trach'ash. we also know from elminster that he was able to cast fireball — a 3rd level spell — at age 8.

it is indisputable that mystra must’ve taken notice of the precocious young wizard during this time, even in her diminished state. much like she had once observed midnight. she began to whisper to him, drawing back the veils, revealing herself bit by bit, urging him that he was special — chosen.

gale: "he fancied himself much more than that. he fancied himself favoured above all others. [...] mystra showed him the secrets behind the veils. the gossamer veils first, draped across the weave. the delicate veils next, draped across her body. ‘chosen one’ she whispered, as she slipped them off completely."

✧ final part: power imbalance & exerting control ✧

gale: "the weave is still here, all around us - inside of us too. as long as the goddess lives, magic is a tangible thing for those who know how to touch." gale: "i've studied magic for many years, and in as many ways i am still a more than capable wizard." gale: "it's just that i'm no longer able to perform those feats even arch wizards would marvel at." gale: " to have one hand on the pulse of divinity." gale: "you have to remember that the weave is a living thing, both the embodiment and the extension of mystra herself." gale: "she can give and she can take away. i'm afraid i'm still very much on her naughty list."

gale: "mystra commands all magic. salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withhold." gale: "and yet, even now, more than i fear losing my own self and soul, i fear losing my command of her art."

player: "he sounds like a very talented individual." gale: "he was. even though it was in mystra’s affections that his true power lay."

even apart from their innate different forms of existence as a mere mortal and the literal goddess of magic, mystra is in full control of gale's power at all times, able to grant and withdraw her favors at will. claiming that such a power imbalance doesn’t exist, that it doesn’t apply to their respective relationship, that it might’ve been “healthy” at one point if gale was indeed of age at the time their relationship transitioned into a sexual nature is —pardon my french— fucking insane.

this stance disregards everything we know about the gods, about mystra’s involvement with other mortals and her chosen. it disregards the level of authority she wields over any magic user. it carelessly and naively disregards the implicit difference in power. mystra is the goddess of magic, his goddess. the very object of his worship and adoration since childhood. the goddess he devoted his life, his work, and his unyielding loyalty to. it is ultimately irrelevant at what exact point their relationship underwent its final transition from muse to lover. this discussion is redundant. mystra has been a constant presence since his early childhood. his worship of her began with the practice of his first spells, even if it wasn't conscious at the time. every practitioner of magic inevitably honors mystra, regardless of their faith in her. magic is his life, in the same way that mystra is pure magic. she is in total control of the tools he wields.

✧ summary ✧

mystra possesses a degree of foresight, already knowing about the time of troubles & her subsequent passing. this being her reason to seek out mortal vessels to secure her power.

mystra feels any shift in magical energy no matter how small, immediately alerting her. gale was able to cast a third-level spell at age 8.

mystra has a history of instilling feelings of love that weren't present before and using her chosen/other mortals for her own means. (elminster, khelben, sammaster, the seven daughters, ariel manx etc.)

mystra's manifestation is a conscious choice. midnight has been wholly subsumed by her.

mystra wasn’t actually “dead” in 1479 DR, but merely diminished. she was inhabiting the body of a bear and was still able to communicate with her chosen. she directed elminster to recruit other chosen to restore her power.

elminster sought gale out around 1465 DR when he was about 8 years old, as stated in the epilogue letter.

mystra first functioned as gale’s mentor, then his muse, and later his lover.

gale’s relationship with her was indeed of a sexual nature, he has explicitly stated so several times. their intimacy wasn't restricted to incorporeal interactions either, even though they were preferred.

during the ending where gale fails to ascend raphael states during the credits that tav has “rekindled gale’s ambitions after mystra had so cleverly put them to rest”.

azuth describes mystra's chosen as "tempered tools for her use". being bound to them by love and linked to them to preserve her very humanity.

mystra's intention to shape gale into yet another loyal, devoted asset to her portfolio has been there from the very moment she chose to reveal herself, to instruct elminster to seek him out. it was a conscious decision to directly insert herself into gale’s life, sowing his conviction that he was favored above all others. singling him out among his peers, isolating him with subtle promises of his greatness, his uniqueness, and all he could yet accomplish to be under her guidance. offering him her teachings, her inspiration, and eventually her love. yet all the while tempering his perceived greed and thirst to reach for even greater heights, unless it acted in her favor. keeping him close — lest his growing ambitions should ever prove to be an outright challenge to her rule.

the groundwork has been carefully laid from the very beginning.

gale: “goodnight. and thank you for your patient understanding. [...] try not to think too poorly of me. a cat can look at a king. a wizard can look at a goddess.”

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 meta #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #mystra #grooming tw #abuse tw #long post #writing this genuinely burned me out ngl #so glad to finally unleash it though since it has been sitting in my drafts for weeks

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krisdreaming · 8 months

Text

Baby Fever

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x f!reader

WC: 1.2k

Summary: Osamu and his wife just had a baby. Now Atsumu sees them everywhere.

A/N: This kind of took a very different direction than I was originally planning and tbh, I kinda hate it now, but I spent over two hours writing it, so I'm gonna roll with it anyway. Maybe when I re-read it in the morning, I'll hate it less 😅

There's a term for it. Atsumu isn't sure what it is, but he knows that as soon as you're exposed to something new, you start noticing it around you more and more. That must be why, ever since Osamu's son was born, he's been seeing babies everywhere. They're at the grocery store. They're at the park. Suddenly, half of his teammates have been expanding their families like it's some kind of competition.

Suffice to say, Atsumu has seen more than his share of babies over the past few weeks. Sure, they're cute, or whatever. When a baby smiles at you, you can't help but smile back. When they grab onto your finger, you let them hold it for as long as they want. When they engage you in a staring contest across the grocery store aisle, you only put up a little bit of a fight before giving them the satisfaction of winning, flashing a sheepish smile at their mom or dad as you turn the corner.

The sight of the little monsters has started to trigger a strange twinge in Atsumu's middle, which he chalks up to the fact that he's an uncle now. There's a brand new member of his family, and he's really happy for Osamu and his wife. Seeing the babies everywhere reminds him of that. That's all it is.

See, the two of you had talked about this. You aren't ready for kids right now. He's in the prime of his volleyball career, and you love your job. You're both happy as just the two of you, spending your free time together doing the things you enjoy and getting a full eight hours of sleep each night. Having a baby would change everything. Your last discussion on the topic, right after Osamu and his wife had shared their pregnancy with the two of you, had ended on that exact note. He's pretty confident that's still how you feel. He's relatively confident that's still how he feels, too.

Of course, the longer it goes on, the harder it is to explain away. He watches Osamu doting on his son, snuggling him close and kissing his cheeks and smiling bigger than Atsumu's ever seen before. He knows his brother is tired, but he doesn't seem to care. He watches the way he looks at his wife, and the way both of them look at their son, and it softens something inside him. He sees you cradling your nephew close, cooing down at him with a soft smile, and his heart turns over in his chest.

Finally, one day, he comes to Osamu with a question.

"What's it like?" Osamu is wiping down the counter at Onigiri Miya, clearly trying to disguise his surprise and mild consternation at seeing his brother show up out of the blue, five minutes before closing time.

"What's what like?" He grunts, scrubbing at a ground-in glob of rice.

"Y'know," Atsumu gestures vaguely, "Being a dad."

"Ah," Osamu hums, grasping that quickly what this is all about. "It's incredible. I mean, don't get me wrong," He chuckles, "It ain't easy. It's way worse than whatever ya try to imagine based off a' everybody's helpful advice," He lifts his hands in air quotes. "But somehow, it's also worth it, in a way ya never could've imagined it would be. The way ya feel every time ya look at 'em - ya can't even put it into words."

Atsumu isn't sure how he's supposed to respond to that, so he just nods. Osamu smiles, looking him up and down with a too-critical eye. "Any special reason yer asking?"

"No," Atsumu says with a quick shake of his head, "Just curious, 's all."

Osamu nods, not saying another word, but the smirk on his face is more than enough to make Atsumu want to knock it clean off. Osamu's answer is exactly what he'd been afraid of.

It comes to a head one sunny Saturday afternoon when the two of you meet up with Osamu and his wife and son to visit a festival. The afternoon is starting to wind down when Osamu unceremoniously dumps the baby into Atsumu's arms. "Hey, mind watching him while we go to the bathroom quick?"

"Ah, sure," Atsumu says to his brother's already-retreating back. You poke at the baby's irresistibly pudgy cheeks, giggling along with him when your attentions illicit a bout of laughter.

"Oh my, what a sweetheart!" The elderly woman seems to appear out of nowhere, something Osamu is constantly describing but which Atsumu hasn't experienced until this moment. "Such a happy baby," She grins. "How old is he?" She looks expectantly at you, and after you gather your wits, you answer her.

The woman nods knowingly, as if she'd predicted as much. "Are you having a fun day with Mommy and Daddy?" She asks next in a goofy voice, completely oblivious to the way Atsumu chokes on the breath he'd just been inhaling and you shoot him a wide-eyed glance.

"Ah, well, actually-" You stammer out, at the same time Atsumu blurts, "We're not his parents."

"I see," She says good-naturedly, "Well even so, he looks very happy with you." With that, she goes on her merry way, and you and Atsumu share a bewildered look. Osamu and his wife return from the bathroom, and neither of you mentions the awkward encounter. It doesn't come up until later that evening, when the two of you are lying in bed.

"That was really somethin' today, huh?" Atsumu asks, trying to ignore the fact that his stomach is suddenly in knots.

"The old lady?" You chuckle weakly. "Yeah, 'Samu's right, they really don't have any shame, do they?"

"Yeah," Atsumu says, then takes a deep breath. "Do ya think, maybe, it's time to have that conversation again?"

You're silent for a few moments, and he can't quite place the emotions that cross your face. He doesn't have to explain which conversation he means.

"Maybe," You finally agree in a low voice. "Are you saying that your decision might be different this time?" It could be his imagination, but Atsumu almost thinks that you look hopeful.

"Maybe," He says carefully. "Would yours?"

"Maybe," You echo him, but there's a smile playing at the corners of your mouth.

"There would be a lot of changes," He says softly, fingertips tracing aimless shapes up and down your arm.

"Maybe we're ready for those changes," You murmur back, catching his hand in yours and letting him twine your fingers together.

He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. "As long as I've got you, I think I might be."

"Me too," You say, leaning in slightly to nudge the tip of your nose against his. When he kisses you, he hopes the pressure of his lips can convey even the things he can't put into words. He can't imagine living this life with anyone else.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader

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cursedcola · 2 years

Note

Dorm leaders react to finding reader/yuu crying and overhear them say "I want to go home"?

A/N: Ah. Angst. My specialty lol. I am assuming you want imagine format? Hope so because that's what I am going with. Thank you for the request :)

Note: Idia's is so long. I went so overboard omg. I am sorry. I just think that he's neat.

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle has seen many people cry, and unfortunately been the instigator for no small number of occurrences. Prior to turning over a new leaf, he was heinously blunt with his criticisms. Everyone knows this.

At the time he thought those people to be sensitive and naïve to the cruel ways of the world. They needed to toughen up!

That opinion lies in the past now. He was a prick. Riddle won't verbally acknowledge it but he knows. There is no need to bring it up because he is trying to change his ways

Key word: trying

You can't uproot years of bad habits and trauma overnight. He has his moments. From freaking out over students not studying, dress coding half the school, lecturing his friends on their diet....nothing too harsh, and no permanent harm done.

"This is not your world MC; 70% is unacceptable for a prefect to score on an exam. Slacking will not be tolerated! What kind of example are you setting for the other students?! Your grades reflect on the school!"

Perhaps he could have taken a moment to think and not let his emotions overcome him. Riddle knew how hard you studied; after all, you came to him for help many times. Each occasion he happily obliged and saw you progress using his study guides

It is why he wanted you to succeed. To show up with a perfect 100 that would be celebrated over sweets

Instead you arrived apprehensive and hiding your test behind your back. Already fragile and he-...goodness.

He sent you off running

Likely to go cower in the library and beat yourself up for disappointing him. Just like he used to do. Great Sevens he is an asshole. Ace is definetly going to rip him to shreds or at least throw his tea collection into the pond

After a brief rest to wash his face in the restroom, Riddle goes to the library and his heart shatters at the sound of sniffles from behind a particularly large stack of books.

"I can't do this anymore...this is too hard...he's right...he's right...he's right...I want to go home"

Sweat pools at his chin and his hands clench into tight, clammy fists. After hearing that, Riddle can't bring himself to interrupt and stands on the other side of the books, silent, and with his head down

He always felt regret and frustration after having an outburst - but all pale in comparison to the absolute shame and heartbreak hurting you has wrought

Leona Kingscholar

"Go home. It's past curfew"

And...no response. You are very lucky that Leona tolerates you, because ignoring him so flat-out would get you two nights in the slammer back where he comes from.

A goody-two-shoes like you never bends the rules, which is why Leona is curious to see you roaming the botanical garden so late. Not going to answer him? Now it's personal and he is your problem.

At first he opts to follow you around. Not for any particular reason, and merely because he wanted to find out if you stashed any secrets in the area

His patience runs thin as you walk up to every plaque and study each plant. You can't seriously be out here at this hour for a botany lesson, can you? Why not do this during the day

Each time you study a plant your mood seems to sour further. For absolutely no reason, at least from Leona's perspective. Not unless you have beef with the flora and fauna - which is impossible. Maybe. He really doesn't know what to expect from you anymore.

Eventually curiosity grows to concern. He's kept himself entertained, following you and leaving commentary once in a while. Yet he can't help but be creeped out with how you move around like a zombie.

With one plant left, he observes as you once again ignore him to examine it...only to let it go and sit on the floor in disappointment.

"So...You're out of plants, what now?"

He doesn't expect an answer after an entire night of nothing.

"I guess I'll go 'home'...wherever that is"

"Finally talking to me, huh? The hell is wrong with you? Do you think it's safe to be out here this late?,"

"Safe? It's just as safe right now as it is during the day"

A part of him screams to shut up and end the conversation there. It's not his buisness and he can just pretend this night never happened.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He can't help it.

"It means that nothing here is like home. Not the buildings, or the people, or the food, not even the plants. You know, where I come from roses grow on bushes not trees. And I don't have to worry about the broom I sweep the kitchen with suddenly taking flight! I want to go home where shit is normal"

Okay. You got him. He definetly wasn't prepared for that level of a stress dump.

What's worse is that he can't comfort you. He wants to. Truth be told, watching you wander through the garden listlessly upset him more than he is willing to admit. Yet he can't do anything, because that level of homesickness is something no one can understand.

"...NRC doesn't store every kind of plant in this garden. We can check other areas tomorrow"

Azul Ashengrotto

"Ah! At last, my food critique is here," Azul glows, clapping his hands when you walk into the room, "The Headmaster has given the Monstro Lounge a great opportunity to market our buisness at the upcoming cultural fair. Our stall's menu must be perfect!"

Azul ushers you inside with a hand on the small of your back and leads you to a prepared table. Truth be told, he could easily taste the new menu items himself or have one of the tweels do it on his behalf. So long as it tastes good, it will sell, right?

Wrong. In exchange for a vendor's slot and location that will actually yield profits - Azul had to make this contract worth the Headmaster's time.

In short, he promised something "never seen before," that would fit the festival's theme. Naturally, he did not do this without a plan. He had one made long before approaching Crowley with the idea.

You. You are the plan. Azul was going to theme his stall off of your world. Neat, right? All he needs is for you to monitor his project for accuracy, which he has already half-succeeded in doing by luring you here to taste test a new menu

"Jade! Bring out the first item," Sweat drips from the side of Azul's head, his inner anxiousness getting the better of him. Perhaps he should have told you instead of making it a surprise? He only had a few dish ideas to build off of from the rare times you spoke of your childhood. Sourcing similar ingredients without any idea of how things should taste was a task in itself. What if he butchers it? Would you hate him?

Jade sets the first dish on the table, and you visibly straighten up in surprise. You eye him in confusion, as if to say 'where the heck did you learn to make this? How?' and he softly smiles, "Go on. Take a bite,"

And you do. You lift a piece of the dish to your face and smell the aroma before taking a bite. A moment of silence passes, and Azul thinks he may have just killed two birds with one stone. Literally. Death to any chance he had with you or with the festival.

"It...it's not quite the same," you stare at the dish in thought, suddenly solemn, "yet still similar. Nostalgic, even. Thank you for making this for me. Truly, thank you"

A mixture of emotions fill him as he signals for Jade to prepare the next plate. Should he take that as a good response? He failed in recreating the dish perfectly, yet you appear content. Sitting there, slowly finishing the meal bit by bit and cherishing every bite.

"You’re welcome. If it suits your taste, we can add this to our permanent VIP menu," he hovers near your side before laying a gloved hand on your shoulder, "just for you"

You reach to lay your hand on top of his, "I'd like that. Sometimes I want to go home, but this? It helps,"

At that, Azul steels himself. Not only would this dish be added to his menu, but he will personally learn how to make anything you every mention from your home. He would make you talk more, and hopefully find a way to carve a place for you in Twisted Wonderland where you will never have to want for somewhere else.

Kalim Al' Asim

"Is that really necessary?"

Kalim pauses - well, to be fair, everything pauses with a flick of his wrist. Dust rags mid-air, sponges amidst cleaning dishes, the broom sweeping the floor, and so the books that were rearranging themselves in alphabetical order.

He hadn't expected you home for hours. Did Ruggie lie to him about you watching spelldrive practice?

Kalim rubs the back of his neck bashfully, and flicks his wrist for everything else to resume motion.

"Oh, prefect! You're home early. I wanted to help you fix up this dorm in return for everything you have done for me! Do you like it?"

A wet mop flies over your head, " I..uhm..yes? Yes, it's very sweet of you to offer but do we really need magic for this? I could have helped," and nearly drenches you in dirty mop water, earning a grimace of disgust.

Kalim chuckles, waving you off and out of the kitchen. He felt bad for sneaking in to your home while you were away, but he wanted o surprise you! Which...also did not happen, but you said he was sweet for it and that is exactly when he decided to stop listening.

A mantra of 'they think I'm sweet!' plays in his head as he sends more tools to clean the house as you both talk.

He makes a joke about how cleaning is easy with magic, and that you can call on him whenever you need help around the dorms. He will happily do it on your behalf

Which...may not have been the best thing to say to a magicless prefect that has been busting their ass trying to survive and be independent in a world where they do not fit in.

Just a little bit insensitive.

Miniscule enough for Kalim not to understand why you're suddenly frustrated with him.

His brow furrows when you plop on the couch an bury your face in your hands with a frustrated sigh.

"Ugh...you just- you don't get it. I swear, all you magic folk wouldn't last a day where I come from...ugh, I want to go home already"

You say the last bit under your breath but he still heard it. Kalim is aware that sometimes he does get ahead of himself, and that he has clearly overstepped a boundary. Normally he is not so hasty, but with you? All he wanted was to do something nice, and his mind was clouded.

He knows better than to flaunt what he has in front of other people. Not everyone has magic or the free will himself and many other students here are lucky enough to have. You've been working hard to be seen for your efforts, and that's something he admires greatly.

One by one the tools fly back to storage for safe keeping. All aside from the broom, which flies into Kalim's open hand. He steps in front of you, and holds the other out to help you up.

"Sorry, hehe. That was rude of me. I still want to help, so can we try again? Your way this time?"

Vil Schoenheit

"What is that thing?"

He had not intended to sound so repulsed. Disgusted? Yes. Just a tad, but there is a fine line.

You quirk an eyebrow at his comment, and follow his line of vision to the make-shift bracelet on your wrist. It was nothing fancy. Just your old shoe-laces put into an adjustable braid.

You tell him as such, and Vil cannot fathom what compelled you to make such an eyesore. He catches himself this time and doesn't voice it as bluntly

But my dear, it completely throws off your uniform. Goodness it's worse than Ruggie's oversized vest that he refuses to tailor.

"They're sentimental and from the sneakers I had on before someone put me in the ceremonial coffin. I still don't know who changed my clothes; and frankly? Don't want to, but at least they left my stuff in there,"

Okay, he understands. A piece from your past is hard to let go of but do you seriously need to wear it around campus? It completely throws off your charm.

Vil has always had a nasty habit of imposing his standards onto others, and so for the rest of the week you find him constantly eying your bracelet whenever he is nearby.

He merely wants to snip it with some scissors, he thinks, ever so tempted one evening when painting your nails.

You are his soon to be lover. Well, once you ask him to be so. Then he will turn you down and ask you himself because (1) he is not one who seeks, but is one who is sought after and (2) he must always have the upper hand despite this mindset

Anyway. You cannot walk around with those dirty laces on your wrist. He cannot accept it despite trying to on multiple occasions.

His compulsion overtakes reasoning, and as your nails are drying he "accidentally" cuts the thin cord holding the laces together with cuticle scissors

Needless to say that you are upset. Much more so than Vil ever could have predicted, and he watches in guilt as you try to salvage the laces with various knots

"I am sorry, my potato. Allow me to get you a new bracelet - "

"There is no new bracelet, Vil. This is from my home. I...I want to go home. This is all I have left and I need to fix it!"

It is not every day that Vil feels regret for his actions. He convinced himself that he was doing you a favor by getting rid of the old thing, but really? He was being selfish and ignored your feelings for what he wanted

He pushes that down, choosing not to acknowledge his fault and silently takes the broken bracelet. With a few strategic knots he has it stable, but it'll take some extra loving to fix properly.

"We can go out tomorrow to get some supplies. With a few beads, I am certain that these pieces could bind a lovely necklace together!"

He will have to be honest about breaking it on purpose, but for now Vil is happy that you have calmed down and are satisfied with his solution. Part of him wants to decipher what you said; however, he'll set that aside and take heed from his previous mistake. Something is keeping you tied to your home, and if he wants you to stay then he'll have to create a stronger bond for himself and this world first.

Idia Shroud

What does he always tell you?

No, not that there is always a catch with 'f2p' games. Well - yes, he does say that but right now we are talking about the other thing

Y'know

That the outside world sucks??? Hello??? He is essentially a broken record, repeating this every time Ortho or yourself try to get him to leave his room

Everything you need for survival can be acquired from one space. Need money? Work remote. Food? Delivery. Entertainment? Does he need to even -

Look. The point is made. Back on topic, Idia has enforced this time and time again. Yet you always insist on dragging him somewhere or going out on your own if he refuses. More often the latter, because you need to find him in a very special mood for him to go out anywhere physically. When you weren't as close, he would let you go off easily. It isn't his job to babysit you? Now though? He is a bit more 'tricky' on the topic.

Idia thrives on your attention. Absolutely adores it. When the CCTV picks you up as you bypass the Ignihyde security, his heart throbs because he knows that you have no other buisness here other than coming to see him or Ortho. Yet...he has issues being honest about this. Normally he'll be freaking out like a normie in his room until you knock, and then he speedily throws on his headset and pretends that he was in the middle of programming something important

Then you do your thing and "annoy," him with your "normie" talk. Tell him all about your day, joke around, play some games, maybe sneak out and get him stuff from the vending machine so he doesn't have to

And then it ends. Either it's late and you have to go home, or you have other plans to attend. Either way, you always extend an invitation for him to join. Just to get some fresh night air or go have some quality people time

As stated prior, at first he did not care. He'd let you go without a peep. Now? He has...ugh, emotional attachments *barf*. He hates knowing that you're leaving him to go have fun with other people, and he also is extremely uncomfortable with you walking alone at night. Did you not learn from what happened to him? Are you asking for a ghost to kidnap and take you as their bride/groom? He won't save you, y'know. He won't!

Needless to say, he is hella paranoid. More so about the second scenario than the first, because at least with other people you're just doing boring things like shopping.

So, Idia does what any sane person in his situation would do...and stalks you by hacking into NRC's security cameras. Just until you're in you’re home, safe, and he can relax. His intentions are pure and you haven't noticed yet. Why stop?

It's odd that on the night Idia begins to think his protective tendencies are unnecessary, that his anxiousness is justified

"What the f*ck?" He nearly growls, seeing three figures lurking outside his dorm, just beyond the entrance. Obviously not any of his students and seemingly waiting for someone.

His suspicions are proven right when you walk out the front door and one of them steps in your way. Idia thanks his past self for investing in high resolution cameras for his dorm, because he's easily able to get a clear picture of their face.

Unfortunately, audio recording is unethical (curse you Crowley) and he can't hear a word that they're saying - but it doesn't look good. Not from how you shrink backwards towards the front door, looking frantically for a way out. Sweat dribbles down Idia's neck as he debates what to do. He's not built for confrontation? But he's dorm leader, so isn't stopping this kind of stuff his job? Okay, but you're not a student of Ignihyde. Shit, you're his "friend" though. If he leaves you alone then why did he bother with all this in the first -

One of the figures grabs you by the collar, and Idia is out the door faster than Grimm when there's a can of tuna on the line. His desk chair left spinning in his wake as he bolts down the halls of his dorm

"Now listen here you little shit-"

"How about you listen ya filthy noob. I will give you three seconds,"

Idia throws open the front door an immediately pries the newly noted Savanaclaw student off you. His hair blazing double it's normal height and dark red, fueled by rage akin to what only Kingdom Hearts can evict from people. His eye begins to twitch just from looking at their false confidence fall apart. Of course, normies are all talk and no act when shit gets rough. What else did he expect?

"We have no buisness with you, shut-in. Butt out,"

"Three seconds. Leave or I will activate our military grade security systems,"

"Wha-"

"Two"

"Dude, you think we care?"

"One"

"Fine! Whatever! Don't think you're off the hook, prefect"

The title is spit out like a curse, and Idia nearly calls his newest project to chase after them ('Cerberus' Robotic doggos meant to deliver mail, but have an attack function. Why not?)

By the time they’re gone, Idia's thoughts begin to settle and his sense of self returns. He's outside, in his casual clothes with no shoes, there's a slight chill, and he's gripping something - or rather someone - tightly.

"Ah! I'msorryIdidn'tmeantotouchyou," he jumps back, his hair turning bright pink and hands shaking from what he did

You cough into your fist, "No prob. You didn't have to do that...I know you hate confrontation," your voice comes out shaky, and Idia's brain halts, "You're crying," he whispers in disbelief.

"What? No. Pssh. You seriously think that could shake me up? Have you seen the stuff I deal with daily?"

He is not convinced. If it were anyone else, he would have left. He can't handle this kind of stressful situation...then again, he normally can't handle confrontation either, but he just did so…

He sighs, inching closer "What...what did they say to you?" he can try. He might regret it, but he hasn't been rational all night.

Your eyes glaze over, likely reliving whatever conversation just took place before your eyes well up, "I know it's not true. I know. I know I can fit in somehow but I just want to go home. It would be so much easier if I could just go home,"

The last of your words are muffled by your hands as you frantically try to compose yourself. Idia doesn't need to hear more. He's intuitive. From what you've said and the way that student spoke your title...he gets it. Which is why he leads you back inside, lets you sleep in his bed, and prepares a special little surprise for those students with the camera footage from earlier. He was planning to stay awake playing video games, why not use his time more ‘productively’?

Idia stands by his words - the outside world sucks. Yet you know what sucks more? Pissing him off, and making one of the only people he has *barf* emotional attachments to, feel the need to leave him and go to another world to feel safe. There is a reason he was placed in Ignihyde, and it wasn't his smarts or reclusiveness.

No. It was his temper.

Malleus Draconia

“Prefect. Does this belong to you?”

Malleus holds out a phone unlike any sold in Twisted Wonderland. At first he thought his technological illiteracy was why he couldn’t pin point the design, so he brought the phone to Ignihyde’s dorm leader. Not even Idia recognized the brand, but with a bit of tinkering he was able to get the phone charged and working (through methods Malleus could not begin to fathom).

The home screen brightened up and soon they found your name in the settings. Malleus was surprised, to say the least. He did not expect you to be the owner of such foreign technology, or for Idia to throw the phone as if it burned him. Something about being a ‘red flag’ and invading your privacy? Eh. Surely there is nothing too concerning inside an old phone.

To be safe, he withholds his curiosity in favor of returning the phone to you. He could not navigate it even if he wanted to, honestly.

He made the right call. The way your eyes sparkle with recognition at the device and take it gingerly from his hands. You twirl it around a few times in disbelief, earning a bemused chuckle from him.

“I found it near the ceremonial hall. Be careful with your belongings or else they may one day end up in the wrong hands,”

You smile brightly at him when the screen lights up, and throw your arms over his shoulders in a hug, “Thankyouthankyouthankyou! I can’t believe you found this for me! I was so worried I lost all my pictures and data,”

You startle him with the physical contact. He definitely did not picture your first hug to go this way. Although he quickly composes himself, returning the gesture albeit with less strength.

He grows curious, “Pictures? Data?” wondering if there really was something worth while in the phone. You pull him at arms length and giddily start tapping away at the screen, “yeah! Having this means I can should you all what my world looks like! Food, people, scenery - oh, I think I have some memes saved too,”

He refrains from asking what a ‘meme’ is, too caught up in trying to understand you. Sure, he expected you to be happy that he found your phone but to see this level of cuteness? Are you missing anything else that he can find?

You hastily show him your phone and begin to swipe through the “camera roll,” as you call it. Once in a while you stop to laugh, explain who a person is or what’s going in in a picture. He soaks it all in like a sponge, committing each face to memory since they’re important to you.

Time passes, and you begin to slow down. Occasionally you’ll stare at a photo longingly, or revisit others to zoom in on faces or pieces of the scenery.

“I wonder if they miss me,” you whisper, and he understands where your heart is. Painfully so.

He stares at your reflection in the phone, wondering how such joy can be turned to sorrow so quickly, “They would be fools not to. You are…unforgettable…to say the least,”

You nod, wiping away a stray tear, “I hope so. I want to go home, but the thought of them forgetting me? Or the people here doing the same…I wish that I didn’t have to choose,”

You will never be forgotten. Malleus can assure you that much. The nickname “Tsunotaro,” will forever haunt him (affectionately) for the rest of his life - and you? He will always care for you, no matter where you go.

He cannot make that choice for you or take away your suffering. Neither does he regret retuning the phone and digging up these old memories. It pains him to see you so heartbroken, but he knows you love that world just as much as this one.

You won’t have to choose. He will find a way to bridge both worlds if it means that you can be happy. Then you can take him to all the places in those pictures, introduce him to the people and things you love - and then? He isn’t quite sure, but it’s a start to a long road of ensuring that you never leave his side.

3K notes · View notes

glorismorningstar · 25 days

Text

LIONHEART

Pairings: girlfriend!Lute x f!reader, fatherfigure!Alastor x f!reader, Charlie x overprotective!Vaggie + f!bodyguard!reader, situationship!Carmilla Carmine x f!reader

Summary: Charlie is asked to attend a meeting with Heaven, and Vaggie asks Y/N to keep an eye on her. Begrudgingly, she agrees, but not without taking the necessary precautions. A dreaded yet hoped-for encounter occurs, which triggers unforgettable memories.

Warnings: daddy issues, canon-typical violence, Adam being Adam, brief lesbian smut, fluff, angst, grief, sadness, mentions of sex, WLW

A/N: I'm fully aware that the trailer was a major flop, but this story is purely self indulgent and has been in my head for so long that I need to get it out :)

| Part 0 // Part 1 // Part 2 |

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

77 YEARS LATER…

“So, what do you think?” Alastor asked as he turned off the TV. He had just shown us the commercial he'd made for the hotel, and while Charlie and Vaggie were off-put and disappointed, I had to hold back a snort of laughter.

“That was hysterical,” I laughed, resting my elbows on top of the backrest of the couch. “May I have a copy of that?”

“Y/N!” Vaggie barked.

“Right, right!” I cleared my throat. While this was one of the most entertaining things I'd seen in a long while - since that dipshit Vox was unable to put on anything good in the seven years that Alastor was gone, or even before that - it wasn't oriented to what we wanted to do for sinners, it did not once mention redemption or our ambition to help souls checking out into Heaven.

“I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?” Vaggie snapped.

“Uh, yeah, one note… Alastor…” Charlie hesitated, trying to find the words to criticize the commercial without aggravating Alastor, whose grin hadn't wasted a beat in growing strained. “I mean, first off, thank you so much for making this, seriously amazing! But, um, maybe the tone is a bit off.”

Alastor, tilting his head a little and furrowing his brows in his own fashion of a glare, was visibly offended, expression betraying his ever-present smile. I had always found his grin curious, ever since the day he and Rosie had rescued me, I wondered about his choice to smile permanently. A smile is a powerful tool, he'd say, it keeps your friends inspired, your enemies guessing, and assures that no matter what happens, you're the one in control.

“We want people to want to come here, but this makes it look… um…” she continued, attempting to word her sentence properly.

“Bad. The word you're looking for is bad.” Vaggie completed. While Sera had taught me to be polite, her brutal honesty was refreshing.

“Funny, I was going for hilarious!” Alastor said and tilted his head to the side, neck rolling with a crack.

“Agreed, but comedy isn't the purpose of the ad.” I said with a soft tilt of my head.

“It didn't say anything about how we're trying to save demons from the extermination, which is the whole fucking point.”

“Vaggie is right, Alastor. The commercial is to let sinners know we are trying to help them.” Said Charlie.

“Well, my dear, I haven't been active in Hell for quite some time and everyone remembers me from my radio show - the proper medium to express oneself,” he said, holding his finger up for emphasis, which made me chuckle, then I laced my fingers together and rested my chin on my conjoined hands. “But you insisted on this noisy picture box advertisement! So I had a little fun with it.”

His inability - and unwillingness - to hide his thinly veiled contempt for modern technology never failed to amuse me. I was among the oldest beings in creation, only younger than very few souls, but I had grown accustomed to television, cinema and social media. His insistence on radio broadcasts and their superiority was quite humorous.

“Oh, fun? You had a little fun with it?” Vaggie said, getting up from her seat. She was about to lose her patience, and I couldn't blame her. This was an important thing, for it to work out, it was vital that it was taken seriously by everyone involved. “This is not what we want to represent us! When you showed up here a week ago, you said you would help run this hotel, instead you're mocking us! No one is gonna come to a place that a powerful Overlord like you thinks is a waste of time.”

As if on cue, a pink gloved hand raised from the couch opposite the fireplace. I sighed and tilted my head to look at him, boredly smushing my cheek against my hand. “What?”

“If'n ya filming a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?” Angel Dust asked, four fingers pointing at himself.

“I don't know if you can, but you most certainly may not.” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in exasperation. His views on sex were the polar opposite of mine. Heavenly standards had always discouraged giving in to such temptations, but that was one among the many ways in which I had rebelled. Nevertheless, for me sex had always been a way to express strong feelings of affection rather than just a simple exchange of bodily fluids. When I lived in Heaven, Lute and I had always made love with the purpose of worshiping and pleasuring each other, while Angel did so simply for the sake of reaching the climax, which I found immature and foolish.

“Angel, you're a porn star.” Vaggie pointed out with visible dismissal of his idea.

“A famous porn star!” He corrected. “I'll have the horniest sinners knocking these walls down to get in.”

“We're not filming a porn as a commercial.” Vaggie spoke, as if it wasn't obvious enough to the effeminate man.

“Why not?”

“Where do I begin? It's disgusting, it's unrealistic, it's immoral, and it makes little to no sense, among other things.” I listed out, counting each point on my fingers while I gazed at him with a grimace.

“No sense? Sex sells, don't it?” He said, rubbing his fingertips together. “I swear, if you film me going at it with Mr. Fancy Talk Creepy Voice here, you'd be rolling in participants willing to stay at this tacky hotel.”

The simple thought made me gag. Alastor's asexuality was to be respected, for his sake and for my own peace of mind. “Ha, ha! Never going to happen!”

“Angel, I appreciate you wanting to use your… special skills to, um… attract folks to the hotel, but I really don't want to exploit you! In that way.” Charlie winced, giving a polite but awkward smile to dismiss such a notion.

“Oh, please, baby, this body was made to be exploited,” he drawled and puffed his chest, making poses to highlight his sexual desirability. “I got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity, ha, ha, I got the legs! The gag reflex, the holes, the chest fluff the everyone thinks are tits-”

His narcissistic rambling was interrupted by Charlie's ringtone, which made me breathe a sigh of relief and stop tugging on my ears. As she excused herself to take the phone call, I zoned out for a minute, tail curling around my hip as the fluffy tip twitched idly. I heard her say “dad”, which drew a soft smile from me. If only Lucifer had been there to support my rebellion then, maybe things might have been a little different. I hadn't seen him in ages. We used to get along fairly well, and when I needed secret meetings to try to make peace, he was my main contact. Despite our friendship, I knew he'd recognize me immediately if he saw me again, so I refrained from reaching out.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard Husk once again rejecting Angel's flirting. It really was annoying.

Husk and I had met through Alastor, as the poor guy was owned by the Overlord. We had more in common than I'd thought, including our feline traits, both physical and characteristic, and a mutual annoyance with Angel Dust. I felt bad for how Alastor treated him, I always believed it was unfair, but his rage was one of the most chilling, terrifying things one could ever witness, and I wasn't stupid enough to allow myself to be the object of his frustrations. It was already a miracle he was the closest thing to a father I'd ever have.

“Vaggie! Holy shit!”

“Pah!” I yelped, ears pulling back as Charlie's outburst startled me.

“Ah! What?”

“Get over here!”

Their cute relationship made a fond chuckle fall from my lips, watching with a small smile as Vaggie walked over behind the wall to talk to Charlie.

When I heard her mention a meeting with the leader of the exorcist army, my stomach dropped to my knees. Adam.

He was almost my brother-in-law, brought into my social circle by Lute. I didn't admire him like he liked to think everyone did, but I did respect him, for Lute's sake. It was important to her that I got along with her best friend, and I couldn't deny her such a thing.

- I can do this, somehow I know it

I'll get Heaven behind my plans

- Charlie, hold on

I could hear Charlie singing. She did always have a thing for singing songs at random times, a habit that straddled the line between endearing and entertaining, and annoying and irritating.

- There's just no way I could blow this

Not this once in a lifetime chance

- It's just a meeting

Ah, yes, just a meeting, I thought with a sigh. The poor girl was about to go to her first meeting with Adam of all people. It was like taking her driver's test in a bus.

- To change their minds, to touch their hearts

Or whatever angels have

I frowned a little at the prejudice. Angels do so have hearts. It was the hypocrisy that bugged me.

- This could be bad

- Cheer up, Vaggie

This could be swell

Something tells me that today is gonna be a happy day in Hell

- Okay, but just don't sing to them

Ah, the famous last words. Charlie was already out the door before Vaggie could even finish the sentence, strutting around through Hell as if it were the land of cupcakes and rainbows.

- That bitch is halfway down the street

- Is she-?

- Oh, she's dancing

- Ugh, no

I sighed and leaned against the door frame, tail curling as I watched the princess walking down the street. “Y/N, you should accompany her to the meeting. Say you're the bodyguard or something.”

“Ha, ha, yeah, right.” I laughed with pure sarcasm. The simple idea of being in the same room as someone with divine ordainment after almost eight decades made my head spin with anxiety.

“Fine, then at least keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't run into some weirdass on the way.” Vaggie proposed. While it bordered on stalking, it was true that Charlie could be a bit too carefree, and it was the least I could do to help.

“Fine.” I groaned, pulling on the hood of my cloak, and followed her path down the street, dodging disgusting views and unpleasant sinners on the way. The fact that I'd be hearing Adam's voice after this long was nerve-wracking, to say the least. I wouldn't be speaking to him, obviously, if it were so I would have outright fainted, but being in a one mile radius of any personality from the right side of the pearly gates made my lungs constrict.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

As I stood in front of the tall golden tower of Heaven's embassy, a flurry of edgy butterflies swarmed in my stomach. I inhaled deeply through my nose and slowly exhaled through my mouth, then hurried inside after Charlie before the door could close, slipping in the shadows to keep her from seeing me.

When she signed the paper and entered the meeting room, I finally relaxed and laid on one of the couches in the deserted lobby, pulling my hood down and sighing as I stared at the ceiling. I could hear Adam's boisterous laugh, muffled by the walls, and my stomach did a backflip. I buried my face in my hands and took a few deep breaths, trying to get my shit together.

“You think I'd come down there? No, I mean, I love the vibe. Totally, love your tunes. Pretty fuckin’ hardcore, don't get me wrong, but it's such a bummer, man. Everything down there is so bleugh, heh… ew.” His shenanigans never failed to make me roll my eyes. I never once agreed with him on anything, barely even on the smallest of dilemmas, like which milkshake flavor was the best. But there was an unspoken agreement between us to put up with each other's shit, motivated by our closeness with Lute.

My gaze then flickered around the room, which hadn't changed in seventy-seven years. I could remember when I'd first been here to meet with Lucifer in secret to attempt to stop the exterminations. It all felt like it was eons ago, when in reality it hadn't even been half a century, a microscopic fraction to my long life as a Seraphim.

“Adam, sir… Mr. Adam, sir-”

“Call me Dickmaster.”

A ghost of a laugh fell from my lips at the nickname. It had been so long since I'd heard him and his narcissistic ramblings about his sexual prowess. Word in Heaven and outside was that he was just as good as he purported, which I didn't find too hard to believe, as he was neither an unattractive nor an inexperienced man.

“It's the solution to our biggest problem!”

“Herpes! Yeah, that's a bitch.”

“No, our other biggest problem!”

“Oh, um… ugly people? Math? Global warming! No, wait, that's Earth's problem. When you take her out for the fifth time and she still expects you to pay the check, and you're like, hey, I thought you wanted equality!”

“No! Our shared problem of overpopulation in Hell.”

“Oh! Well, that's not a problem! We've got that covered! Lute, how many demons-”

Lute?

Lute was here?

I scrambled to the door and pressed my ear up against it, listening for any sign of her, her voice, her footsteps, her auditory mannerisms. Anything.

“Got a good 275 this year, sir.”

I rested my hand against the door and sniffed, breathing out a shaky, broken sigh as I slumped into a ball on the floor, leaning my ear against the cold surface. Hearing the ethereal sound of her voice after eight decades felt like reaching an oasis after having wandered the desert, a ray of sunlight in a dark tunnel. My eyes flooded with tears as I let out silent sobs, covering my mouth with my hand as I kept listening for her voice, in desperate need of getting whatever glimpse of her I could.

I wondered what she thought of me now, so long after I disappeared with no trace. I could barely even imagine the pain she must have gone through - or was still going through - if she thought I was dead… or worse, if she thought I abandoned her. If she thought I didn't love her and Emily and Sera anymore, and decided I'd live a better life elsewhere. The thought of her hating me made me choke a sob, the hearing range too short for the emotions I wanted to show.

For fuck's sake, she was the love of my life. Why the fuck didn't I go in as the bodyguard? What was going through my head when Charlie said she'd be meeting Adam? You can't have Adam without Lute, how stupid could I have been to not think of that? I missed her face so much… her golden, intelligent eyes, her pretty little nose, her mischievous smirk, her thick, fluttering eyelashes… God, how I loved her face…

“They're not the same. They had their chance, and they earned damnation.”

I didn't even care what she was saying right now, I just needed to hear her.

“...but everyone makes mistakes.”

“Angels don't make mistakes.”

“You really think that?”

“I know that.”

I'd heard that before.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

With a last harsh suck to her clit, her thighs clamped around my head and she cried out my name, squirming and mewling as my face remained buried in the paradise between her legs. I lifted my head to meet her eyes and licked my lips clean of her sweet juices while her hand lingered on my hair, grip on my locks loosening as her chest heaved with the exertion. Giving her an affectionate smile, I shifted to get up and grab something to clean her, but she stopped me before I could do so. “Stay.”

I smiled at her and leaned my head on her thigh, planting the occasional kiss on her soft skin. “I love the way you taste.”

“You say that every time you go down on me.” She giggled, carding her fingers through my hair.

“And I'll keep saying it over and over, my love.” I smiled, resting my forehead on the soft flesh of her thigh and closing my eyes.

I heard her let out a quiet chuckle as her hand kept stroking my hair, head falling back against her pillow as she slowly regained her breath. Everything about her mesmerized me. Being with Lute felt more right than being with any man in this universe. The way she tasted, the way she smelled, the way she looked, the noises she made, they all made me fall in love with her more with each encounter. My thoughts wandered to her military training and the extermination. Even putting aside the betrayal of Sera making such a decision, with the way Lute spoke about enrolling in the army, I'd never have peace of mind. Heaven was a lie, indeed. I wanted to stop it so badly, to protect Emily from such knowledge, to find a solution different from violence, to take some weight off Sera's shoulders, to save Lute's life.

I shook such thoughts out of my head and crawled up to lie flat on top of her, giving her a tender kiss on the lips and resting my forehead on hers. She wrapped her legs around my waist, locking her ankles on my lower back, and said, “What's with the frown, princess?”

I sighed and looked at the helmet on her nightstand, then back into her eyes. “Do you think it's possible to make peace with Hell?”

“What?” She asked with something between a scoff and a laugh. “Of course not. They had their chance to be good, and look at what they did instead.”

“And that was a mistake,” I conceded, tenderly brushing the hair out of her eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was make this boil over into an argument, so I kept my tone soft and gentle. “But there's no one that doesn't make mistakes.”

“Angels don't make mistakes, love.” She replied.

“Strongly disagree.” I sighed, looking to the side again with a small frown. To name a few, Sera chose to approve the extermination and put Adam, of all people, in charge. It was true that he was sort of an in-law to me, and the best that could be said of our relationship was that we had mutual respect, but he was self-absorbed, reckless and obnoxious, a testosterone-fueled wind-up soldier that marched wherever his sex-clouded brain told him to. And to think that poor Emily still believed she lived in this perfect, unbiased realm of bliss.

“Hey,” Lute cooed, taking my chin in between her fingertips and tipping it to meet her eyes. “What Sera did was for your own good. She just wants to protect you, and so do I.”

She then grabbed my cheeks and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. The gesture made me smile a bit. I knew she wanted my wellbeing, but if only there was a way to do so that wasn't so violent…

“Come on, no more pouting,” she said, nuzzling our noses together. “What do you say we cuddle a bit and tomorrow we go out for ice cream?”

“Hmm… sounds fun. Thank you.” I mumbled and trailed a few soft kisses across her shoulder, then rested my head on her chest and closed my eyes, reveling in her presence.

My gaze once again fell on her exorcist's helmet. Those rotten black horns, striped with white and curled at the tips, the × over the right eye and that ragged smile… I loathed everything about it. The fear of losing her to this was too big. I'd do whatever it took to spare her and my family from this barbarity.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The moment Adam opened the door, the color dissipated from my skin.

He was holding Charlie by the wrist - thankfully she had her back to me - and beside him was Lute.

Lute, in that familiar gray uniform and that horrible mask.

Her eyes met mine for a split second and I felt the wind being knocked out of me when she squinted and her body language shifted ever so slightly, which made me gasp and pull my hood back on, ears pulling back in fear and tail taking cover between my legs, and in the time she simply blinked, I ran away on all fours as fast as my legs could carry me, not stopping until I reached the hotel. My legs felt like they could crumble any second, my lungs screaming for breath and my throat begging for water, but I wouldn't stop until I was far away from the embassy.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

As night befell the Pentagram, I laid on my bed and stared out the window in deep thought about the day's events. I opened the drawer in my nightstand and grabbed a picture, gazing at it fondly. It was me and Lute on date night, slow dancing to some cheesy love song we liked. I had an arm around her while my free hand held hers as she looked at me with heart-shaped eyes.

I wondered if she'd still look at me that way now, if she didn't hate me for disappearing without a message or note or any information on where I'd gone beforehand. A part of me didn't want to know the answer.

My phone dinged with a new notification, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Fuck.”

Hey corazón <3

21:14

You coming over tonight?

21:14

Shit, Carmilla. When my brain registered Lute's presence earlier today, everyone else was dead to me. Thankfully, I was grounded back to reality when I got back to the hotel, but I couldn't just ditch Carmilla for a person I may or may not see ever again. Then again, I couldn't abandon Lute, the woman I loved with all my heart and soul for years on end, for a mere carnal relationship.

I sighed and texted back my response,

Sorry babe, I'm not in the mood tonight :(

21:17

Good night

21:18

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lute x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin lute #hazbin vaggie #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel charlie x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel carmilla #carmilla carmine #carmilla x reader #carmilla carmine x reader #lute x reader

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sliverslipped · 8 months

Text

What qualities of you attract friends?

Piles: 1-3 from left to right

Please do note that this is my first pac. I'm still a beginner and is practicing tarot with very limited resources. Please be mindful of your words and as it's said not everything might resonate. This is a general reading. Take what resonates and leave the rest. This is for entertainment purposes only.

Credits: Pictures aren't mine. I got it from Pinterest. I've also used the divider from @cafekitsune !! Check them out

Close your eyes and take a deep breath after taking a close look at the images. Choose the one that attracts you the most. Feel free to choose two piles if you feel drawn to both.

Comments and feedback are highly appreciated.

PILE 1

Queen of cups you're someone who's seen as the mom of the group, the one who's always there for their friends, the one who's very loyal. Very loving too and this is one of the key qualities that attract strong friendship to you. You're a nurturing soul. Not only are you nurturing you're also very intuitive. You're very sensitive and when you make a connection with a person you treasure them. Page of swords you're a very charming individual who knows how to give the rest a good company. As pages depict someone who's younger either you might be younger by age or you have a youthful energy to you. You're quick witted and you might also be very curious and open minded. Five of cups you're not afraid to show your vulnerable side to your friends. Crying over spilt milk doesn't make you a miserable person either. Though the cards may depict a miserable one, think of it as you showing your vulnerable side to your friends and how much they cherish that you trusted them enough to open up to them about your worries and insecurities. Hermit you're someone who's wise and mature. You know when to withdraw from people and situations to assess and evaluate your feelings and thoughts better. You also have a healing energy to you. You're also very self aware and critical and is also the friend who's very reliable. You're also very spiritual. The sun you have strong leadership skills. You're very charming and you do not hesitate to shower your friends with compliments. You're not afraid of others stealing your spotlight either. You have a healthy ego. You also help people to grow and see their potential.

Gemini, cancer, virgo. Some of you may have these signs or have these placements. It doesn't necessarily have to be though.

PILE 2

Strength you have great leadership qualities. You're someone who's very resilient. You have a healthy self esteem. You don't find the need to get extrrnal approval or validation because you're very confident in who you are. You also make your friends feel supported. Four of wands you're someone who enjoys your life. There's never a dull moment with you. You don't take anything for granted either. You're also someone who's very social. You're also full of ideas and curiosity. Seven of pentacle you're someone who's well organized, patient and systematic. You have a balance between feminine and masculine energy. You're also a keen observer. You know when to let go and what to let go of if you think that you no longer have a control over it. You do not rush into things, it doesn't mean that you don't want to get it done fast but rather you take your time and know when to rest. You're very reliable and commited. Hanged man you're patient and is capable of viewing things from different point of views. You're someone who's afraid to stand out from a crowd. You're very welcoming of others and make them feel at ease.

Leo, venus in aries, saturn in taurus. You may have these signs or have these placements in your chart. It doesn't necessarily have to be though.

PILE 3

Hanged man you're capable of viewing things and situations from a new perspective or point of view. Very open minded. You're also very patient. You also make people feel at ease and welcomed.Queen of cups you're someone who's seen as the mom of the group. You're always there for your friends and is very loyal. Very loving too. You're a nurturing soul. Not only are you nurturing you're also very intuitive. You're very sensitive. Seven of cups you're very fun to be around. Your energy may feel like it's all over the place but in this context and getting the card upright it's not bad. You may also have many interests that keep you engaged and make you bit more interesting to your friends. You're also able to view things from different perspective. Page of cups you're vulnerable and emotionally open. You're attentive to the needs of others and is there for them. You're also Idealistic. You're very caring and compassionate. You're selfless. You also make others feel loved and appreciated.

Gemini, virgo, Venus in scorpio, Saturn in libra. You may have these signs or have these placements in your chart. It doesn't necessarily have to be though.

I'm sorry that this pile is very short compared to the previous ones so feel free to check the other ones if you felt attracted to any for more messages.

Ⓒsliverslipped

#pick an image #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick a pile #pick a card #tarot pac #pac #tarot cards #tarot reading

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majeoeje · 1 month

Text

Counting days

Zuko x reader

I hope you never know how much i cried that day

"Just how long has it been??" You giggled as you twirled Zuko around in your arms. Something you had promised to do three years ago as you bid him goodbye.

Well much to his dismay at least.

"Only 3 years, 5 months and 4 days" he said, you could only laugh in response because you weren't actually expecting a definite answer

Zuko looked embarassed not knowing if he gave the right answer, his awkward demeanor still holds up even to this day making an odd sense of comfort wash over you seeing how some parts of him still remains the same.

You guessed it was 3 years, 2 months and 4 days ago that you bid him goodbye. It was before he set sail for his banishment to a search for the avatar, like it was just another short adventure, you smiled and greet him like it was just an ordinary day at the palace. Like it will be a short trip he'll have to endure not for long. How awfully positive you were being gave him a sense of hope that the nightmare he will go through would eventually come to an end.

Your encouragement only fueled the ambition in his heart to burn brighter.

And the light would dim in your eyes watching him go. He may not see himself as talented or gifted. He told you that hard work and effort had made him strong. Though he fails to notice how he was always your light without even trying.

You wished you yourself believed your own words you said to him.

Because much to his knowledge you broke down only minutes after he left.

"Well it felt longer than that..."

You reminiced, trying to take in the moment. You're here on a mission once again in inner rings of Ba Sing Se when you saw him. You thought you were hallucinating again but upon closer inspection, you were right.

It is him.

Zuko. The banished prince of the fire nation. The fugitive. The honorless coward...

...

..Your best friend.

The sentimentality of this moment bear weight heavier than you could ever hold. Though he knows you'd never admit that

"Really? Lee? You can't be more creative than that?" you try to tease him once more

"So? There's thousands of Lees here in Ba Sing Se"

"You look more like a Chen to me"

"Well you're 4 weeks too late to tell me that" he rolled his eyes, looking away slightly. But not enough to hide the smile that had adorned his face

It was more than meaningful to see him smile once more.

You thought after being scarred so horribly by his father. It would took you mountains of blood sweat and tears to see the corners of his lips turn upwards once more. But Zuko always proves you wrong

Because what you didn't realize and never would, you could always make him smile with just existing.

The chilling air blowed past the two of you, signalling for him to bring you somewhere else.

He took your hand leading you somewhere

"Come on, you have to meet uncle now that you're here"

"Did you and uncle Iroh actually opened a teashop??" You perked up, curious at the smell of jasmine tea that lingered from Zuko's apron.

You could always tell that it was one of uncle Iroh's dream to open his own teashop seeing how critical he always of every cup of tea you served to him. Saying how "every tea is to be brewed with perfection" Making those tea lectures that he would go on about much more yawning. But still, you always appreciate it knowing how those tea brewing lessons were how he kept you company in your visits everytime zuko's not around.

"I don't think it's that surprising"

Zuko then went on a rant on how some men who came in their previous workplace just started offering a job, a building AND an apartment in the inner rings of Ba Sing Se to uncle Iroh

The whole situation would only bring you to giggle at how silly it was. Silly, but a blessing nonetheless.

One thing of note was something has tremondously changed in Zuko, was it his more positive outlook? Or was it his more carefree demeanor. Lacking of the boiling desire to prove himself. Perhaps he has truly let go the way of only pleasing his father and just live?

It does bring contentment. But you can't help but feel sorrow washing you away. Because now you guessed he won't feel the need to come back. Come back home to his country....His rightful place as the heir to the thrown.....His coldblooded father.....His dead silent home...

Or perhaps you just wanted him to come back to you.

You were remembered the days at the palace where he'd eagerly lead you to take a look at something he had took intrest to. Whether it was baby turtleducks, a new gift by uncle Iroh or even a new firebending move he learnt.

"Heyyyy, slow down!" You'd whine, feeling him tug at your hand as he ran

"Come on! We're almost there." He'd say, you were always a little out of breath trying to catch up to him as his grip on your hand never faltered.

These detour wouldn't last long however knowing how people would look for him, cutting your moments short. But you never minded. No mattrr how frequent or how short these little quest last. You were just so happy being with him.

Though as you grew up you noticed these little detour would only lessen as years passed. It was understandable really you two were growing up after all and it wouldn't be appropriate for the prince of the fire nation to be holding hands with his childhood friend to show them daily mundane things.

And you yourself were far too prideful to ask him to do it again so you cherish the memories you already had in your heart.

Still.. you never thought you'd miss how the warm skin of his palm would brush again yours. The question along the lines of 'how long has it been' would echo once more in your head, feeling how rough his hand were now....Different to the smooth small hands of little Zuko.

But the warmth still remained the same.

You bit your lip and stayed silent hoping he doesn't notice the tears that was pooling in your eyes, blurring your vision as you heard him rant about his uncle's new teashop filling in the silence.

The cold air of the inner ring of Ba Sing Se suddenly felt warmer. The illuminated night was engulfed in a glaze of sunset hues as your steps on the concrete streets of Ba Sing Se would ring a sound akin to a smooth tiled floor

It was as if you were back at that damned palace again..

It's as if you were kids all over again.

Though this time you didn't have to worry about catching up to Zuko's pace.

(A/N:not an exact timeline bc i was too lazy to do research)

#zuko #atla zuko #zuko x reader #gender neutral reader #atla #avatar the last airbender #prince zuko #fire nation #ba sing se #earth kingdom #uncle iroh #general iroh

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aloesarchives · 3 months

Text

All That is Revealed(JJK One-shot)

TW/Warnings: Some angst but Fluff ending, minor profanity, MANGA SPOILERS FOR HIDDEN INVENTORY ARC, Possible OOC Toji/Megumi/and Satoru/ Toji and Satoru still having beef after 12 years, Reader feeling stressed, Megumi indirectly cockblocks Toji

A sequel to this headcanon

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Toji x Fem!/Mama! Reader, Megumi x Mama! Reader(platonic)

AU: Toji Lives AU

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4.8k words

Summary: You finally tell your son and his friends about Satoru and Toji’s shared “history”.

It had only been a week since Megumi got cooked by his dad during their little practice sparring session, which ended with you breaking it up and reprimanding Toji for almost critically injuring his son. That is not what’s bothering Megumi, however. Well, okay, he left a little salty with a bruised pride from barely holding his own against his dad. But that’s beside the point.

What’s bothering him is what you said to him at the end of your conversations. After learning Toji was just playing with Megumi, not even using a fraction of his actual strength, Megumi asks you how truly powerful his dad is. Your only answer was, “Ask your teacher, Megumi.” You then left the school grounds without another word. What did you mean by that? Megumi had never seen his pompous teacher like this before. Satoru’s endless sweat bullets and fidgety hands looked out of character for him. He tried asking him the next day, but Satoru didn’t acknowledge the question and completely ignored it. However, Megumi noted Gojo’s increased stuttering and rapidly fluctuating curse energy. He didn’t have any luck with Geto-sensei either. Geto would give some sort of cryptic answer to Megumi’s question with a lopsided grin, but even reading between the lines was a pain for Megumi himself.

Though, Megumi couldn’t blame his teachers for avoiding his question. He is well aware that his family is not average, even by Jujutsu standards. His father, Toji, was seen as the black sheep of the entire Jujutsu society, a useless human with no trace of curse energy. But the whispers and hushed voices he heard were a different story. His notorious epithet of “Sorcerer killer” wasn’t something every sorcerer took lightly. From the reactions he’d seen about the talks of his dad, something wasn’t adding up. The disconcert and uneasiness radiated from his two special grade teachers at the mention of his father, not to mention many others having a sober expression when speaking about him. It was like an entire act missing from a volume, and Megumi needed to figure out why.

Since he couldn’t get it out of his teachers, he’ll go for the primary source itself, you. Yet, he was swamped with school and back-to-back missions every chance he had. So, he had no time to bring it up in the first place. It was gnawing at him for days, and he wasn’t the only one. Yuuji and Nobara were also curious about your vague statement and wanted answers. Seemingly more determined than Megumi himself. But it isn’t their fault since your vague answer sparked more questions than answers. Plus, on top of not knowing much about you either.

You were an enigma to the two students. They have seen you around campus but will be out of sight the next, leaving no trace other than your curse residuals behind. Yuuji and Nobara met you briefly a couple of times after the exchange event, only for Megumi to drag them away to leave you to your own devices. It also didn’t help them that Megumi was pretty reserved about personal details, especially ones involving family. Their only leads on you came from the mouths of other sorcerers and the school staff members. Their teacher, known to be a mortal deity, speaks highly of you with a pinch of fondness, which is strange since he never says that of anyone in such a manner. Not even to their other teacher, Suguru Geto, his best friend.

After constantly pestering and begging Megumi to tell more about his ethereal and alluring mother, Megumi decides it is now an excellent time to converse with you. For him, it’s killing two birds with one stone. His friends will finally stop bugging him about you, and he’ll get his answers. It was Thursday; the first years were preparing for a night mission. Gojo had told Megumi that you were coming to discuss recent curse activities and sorcerers' reports for the mouth. The students didn’t have to leave until 3:00pm, so he had time to spare. After their routine classes and training, Megumi begins seeking you out along with Yuuji and Nobara. With plenty of time before dispatching their mission, they searched the whole campus for you.

While walking through a corridor from one of the student lounges, the students hear voices from one of the nearby private rooms. Before Megumi could think, Divine Dog: Totality summoned itself and dragged Megumi to where the voices came from. Megumi didn’t know his shadows to summon themselves without his command. However, this has happened a few times, such as when you’re nearby, and they picked up your curse residuals. So, remembering that his shikigamis know your essence, he lets Totality pull him along with Yuuji and Nobara. He was proven right when your voice on the other side of the shogi door was from the other side. Totality wags its tail, pushing its master’s hand to open it before disappearing into the corridor’s shadows. Before he knocked, he could hear the different voices as well. There was Gojo-Sensei, Geto-Sensei, and— is that his dad’s voice too?

‘What the hell? Why is Dad here of all places?’ Megumi thought with his brows furrowing. He knows about the rule that Toji must always be with you on Jujutsu High grounds. He only comes to the school when he wants to tag along or you ask him to. It’s mainly the latter. Megumi snapped out of his thoughts when Nobara and Yuuji shook his shoulders to knock. He takes a deep breath before lightly tapping his knuckles on the door. There was a brief silence before your voice called out to them.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Megumi, Mom. I also brought Yuuji and Nobara, too.”

Upon hearing your son, you allowed them to come in. As the students came in, they spotted you in the room's layout. The light from the afternoon sun made the mahogany coffee table shine. Three black lounge sofas spaced to face each other, two on the opposite ends of the table while the other met the head. You sat on the head sofa with your legs crossed; Toji was on your left while Satoru and Suguru sat on the other two sofas. Satoru joins Suguru's side to make room for the kiddos to sit. You eye your son curiously, seeing his fidgeting fingers stick out his straight posture.

“What brings you three here? Something on your mind, Megumi?” You say tenderly, a soft affection for your son to feel comfortable.

“Yeah, Mom. . . It’s about–”

“Fushiguro-kun wants to know about your question from last week, (L/N)-Sensei!”

“Yeah, Fushiguro-sensei! Fushiguro has been moppy all week because of it. Would you so kindly answer his question, Fushiguro-Sensei?”

You paused from sipping your (favorite drink), looking at the trio with scrunched brows and a slight frown. Megumi reprimanded the two for speaking on his behalf before he returned to facing you, his fists unusually clenched in his lap.

“ Megumi, I’m sorry for giving you anxious thoughts and restless nights. I didn’t mean to do anything to hurt you; you know that, right? My son, what is it that you want to ask me? You said, reassuring your brooding son. You glanced at Toji, his face unchanging, but his eyes shared the same feeling. Your husband shrugged his shoulders at you, indicating he had no idea what was happening with Megumi. You direct your attention back to your son, hoping he will confide in you like always. Your son takes another deep breath to calm his nerves before speaking again.

“Last week, after Dad beat me, you said that he wasn’t even trying. So when I asked you how strong, you said ask Gojo-Sensei, and that was it. Unfortunately, Gojo-Sensei and Geto-Sensei didn’t answer me, so I wanted to ask you.”

You looked over at the two teachers who were once your students. Suguru shrugged with his hands out while Satoru whistled away with his hands behind his back, relaxing in his seat. You shook your head. You look back at your son with a soft smile.

“I see, so you had to come to the primary source. Well, don’t blame your teachers, Megumi. After all, this is a hard topic for them to discuss.”

The trio looked at each other, confused but curious in your answer. But Megumi was more confused since he had known the two teachers all his life.

“Mom, what are you implying?”

The air shifted, and tension settled in, though Nobara and Yuuji couldn’t feel it. Megumi knew what he was asking was going into a rough part of his parents' lives. Megumi may not be the brightest, but he’s far from dumb. He knows this is serious with what he knows about his father and how vague everyone has been. You were about to speak up if it weren’t for Satoru stepping in to give an answer to the young Fushiguro, albeit failing miserably as he was beating around the bush.

“Megumi-kun, how do I explain this. . . Toji-san, your father, he, erm, he actually–”

“Your father defeated Gojo-kun, Megumi.” You blatantly said, interrupting Satoru to save himself the embarrassment.

There were various reactions to your answer. Though Satoru was wearing his blindfold, you could sense his eyes widened as he refrained from talking further. Suguru and Toji choked on their own air. Yuuji and Nobara had surprised looks, mouths slightly open. But out of everyone, Megumi had the most emotional reaction. His fists clenched even harder, and his face etched in absolute flabbergast. He was completely floored by your answer. What intensified this reaction was the profound aura you gave off. Your posture was not stiff but firm, showing no sign of slack throughout your body. You set your cup down while uncrossing your legs so the heels of your shoes are flat on the ground. Megumi knew you were telling the truth. He could feel his blood start to rush throughout his body like his chest had been squeezed and forced the air out of his lungs.

“M-mom. . . In what way? And how?”

Though your eyes were severe, your soft smile never left your lips.

“I will try to explain everything to you, but there are many details that I have to give you a shortened version. I’m also speaking on behalf of your father. At the time, I was a part-time sorcerer with a full-time job in the real world. I only knew your father did freelance work with another person. I knew your father hunted curses for a check but not hits on someone. I also became a teacher at Jujutsu Tech so we could get by because my full-time job was cutting hours. Your father’s work paid well but wasn’t consistent, so we had some financial troubles. This caused your father to disappear for months at a time, leaving me to raise you and your sister alone.”

Mentioning the last part, Toji shifted in his seat to be more comfortable. It was futile because it was his attempt to respond to being reminded of one of his biggest regrets in life. Toji knew he had every right to feel shameful for his past actions. Still, it doesn’t change the fact he still gets hurt by them after 12 years. You gently reached out to place your hand on your husband’s as it was on your shoulder. Sensing his discomfort, you tried to soothe his thoughts with the gesture. He deflates slightly as your soft action gives ease, leaning his head to lay on your other shoulder. Your eyes never left Megumi’s as you resumed comforting his dad.

“The day after your Father’s disappearance, I got a significant assignment where I had to oversee and act as one of two guardians for a mission. The same one your teachers were assigned at the request of Tengan, Jujutsu society’s barrier guardian. Initially, they wanted to just have Satoru-kun and Suguru-kun do it. However, the nature of the mission needed some, let’s say, more cautious individuals, and that’s where Maho and I, a fellow sorcerer, were brought in.”

“Okay, but (L/N)-dono, we were careful and diligent if you or Maho-san didn’t come with us! Suguru and I would’ve handled it just fine!”

You raised a single eyebrow at the blindfolded fool, giving him an intense side-eye.

“Given your track record of forgetting to dematerialize veils and scooping out the perimeter beforehand, I could beg to differ. Plus, with how you were back then, your lack of self-awareness would’ve got you, AND Suguru, into situations that would have been completely avoidable.”

Everyone snickered at your comment, causing Satoru’s cheeks to be dusted over with a rosy color. Suguru even laughed at his expense when he should be backing up his best friend. Satoru whined at Suguru, and the two started to bicker with each other. You paid no mind to it as you used to it over the years.

“So what was the mission, Mom?” Megumi inquire

“Every couple of years or so, Tengen needs to merge with their chosen vessel called the star plasma vessel. The merging allows Tengen to not evolve past their humanity, maintaining a humanoid form. At the time, their chosen vessel was a girl named Riko Amanai. The mission was for Satoru and Suguru to escort her to Tengen to complete the merging. However, I was mainly assigned because a high-paying bounty was placed on Riko, so I had to help.”

“Do you know who placed it, Mom?” Megumi said, a little agitated at the person who made your mission a living hell.

Satoru and Suguru stared intently at you, wondering what you would say next. You glanced at the two and then your husband before inhaling to give you some air from the already tense room.

“The person… that placed the bounty on her, Megumi, was… was your father.”

At the mention of Toji, Megumi's face went from rage to repulsion in a matter of seconds. He looked at his father with absolute detest as Toji had regret written all over himself. Yuuji and Nobara felt like they were watching a soap opera. This is the most they have seen Megumi this reactive. They saw him as someone who kept his emotions in check, never letting too much spill out. However, seeing this version of him was unexpected but made them sympathetic since his life is more intertwined in the Jujutsu world than theirs.

“A cult member from a group that worshipped Tengen disagreed. He contacted Toji and Shui Kong, his freelance partner, to capture Riko. Dead or Alive. So Toji decided to place a bounty so others could wear us down. He didn’t, however, know I was on that mission. Nor was I even aware he was the one who placed the bounty.”

Each word you spoke carried a heaviness as you recalled the mission's events. You tried to include crucial details, having Satoru and Suguru talk occasionally. To know that it takes one mission to change everything was unbelievable. The first years, though shocked, were locked into the story. Many mixed emotions stirred within them as you retell the fable mission. Even though this happened long ago, speaking about this constantly reminded you of life’s unpredictability. It can be fulfilling, then cruel and unfair the next. As you continue, a heavy weight you haven’t felt in years creeps up as you nears the mission's climax. Getting to the fable fights that rocked the Jujutsu world forever.

The more you speak, the heavier the invisible weight becomes. The feeling of suffocation closing in. At the moment, you didn’t know why you were feeling this. But later on, you come to realize it came from the burden of having to tell your son the atrocities his own father committed, not just against the Jujutsu world, but against you as well. For as long as you can remember, you knew Megumi wasn’t always getting along with his dad. He was a mama’s boy through and through, a brother who always looked out for his older sister.

When it came to his dad, however, it was a mixed bag. Megumi does love his dad, but he doesn’t necessarily hate him. Even when Toji returned, he wasn’t forgiving of his presence like Tsumiki or open-minded like you. He was expecting his dad to vanish like before. Your heart aches to know your own son had that level of self-consciousness from a young age, meaning he and his sister were forced to grow up, all while you tried to raise them by yourself. It was clear that after 12 years, Megumi hadn’t entirely accepted his father.

Now came for you to reveal what his father had done to be so infamous. So you laid it out for them. Telling how Toji temporarily killed Gojo, fought and won against Suguru and Maho, and captured Riko. This happened when you only talked to Tengen for a few minutes, coming out of the chamber to see the chaos. Your eyes never left Megumi, watching to see how he was handling it. Oddly enough, he had an unreadable expression, but you know the rage that burned in his eyes. You can tell he was holding himself together. But if no people were around, he would have snapped at his father and lost all the patience he had accumulated over the years.

This obviously didn’t go unnoticed by the other adults in the room. Satoru and Suguru briefly observed Megumi, empathetic at his mother’s revelations. Unsurprising to them to see Megumi like this. After all, they were a part of the majority of his life, essentially seeing the boy grow up. The two knew he never wore his heart on his sleeve. The flurries of mixed emotions brewed in him like a storm. But his restraint was stronger, letting his eyes speak for themselves. Emphasizing their awareness of how much Megumi loves and respects you, he does not dare lash out because he knows it wasn’t your fault.

Toji had difficulty sparing Megumi a glance, the shame never leaving his body. The years of fatherhood have softened his hard exterior, not always bearing the cocky smirk he wore his single years. Like father like son, Toji had a blank expression, but his eyes held warmth and softness unlike any other to the blessing in his life, his son. He doesn’t blame Megumi if he gives him a spiteful look. If not for his filter, Megumi would denounce and never acknowledge Toji as his father. No matter the reassurance from you or Tsumiki, it can’t convince you to think otherwise. And he was okay with that reality.

Satoru made a backhanded remark at Toji in between your storytelling, which made Toji glare harshly at him. Suguru chided Satoru for his comment, which prompted Toji to throw one back with a smirk etched on his lips to highlight his scar. Megumi didn’t care to put up with his teacher and dad’s squabble. He was focusing on the memories you recited. He’ll leave the worrying to his classmates, who became a little on edge to see if a full-blown argument would break out. You, however, will not let any of it, considering the weight of your burden is already frustrating as it is.

“Satoru, Toji, please! Now’s not the time, and I’m not in the mood to deal with you two, so behave yourselves! Drop the pompous attitude, Satoru and Toji; this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t hung on beef with a couple of teenagers. Also, stop manspreading and sit up properly! That’s why you both have back pain from your ugly posture! Tsks,” You firmly command, staring them down individually.

The two immediately dropped their act, listening to your demand like soldiers getting reprimanded by their commander. Your tone made it to Suguru and the students because they subconsciously sat up in their seats. You sigh to try and ease the pressure of your burden caused. Surprisingly, it did help only a little as you finished the story. Speaking of Satoru’s enlightenment and newly awakened power, the dissolving of the cult group, and the eventual aftermath.

“In the end, your teachers defeated Toji. And before you ask, Riko Amanai and Kuroi survived. I rescued her and got her back on Jujutsu High grounds. The two actually live on Jujutsu Tech grounds but don’t leave the barrier often due to their safety, unfortunately.”

“So what happened to Dad afterward?” Megumi finally spoke up after sitting on the sidelines so his classmates could answer the asking.

“Your father was imprisoned, waiting for his execution. However, I pulled some strings and made a deal with the higher-ups in exchange for your father’s life. Satoru-kun did me a huge favor and came in clutch when talking to the higher-ups. In the end, your father’s execution was halted on the conditions he and I would have to abide by. The rest was history.”

You haven’t thought much about it, but this story-telling was just a conversation between you and Megumi. You forgot Yuuji and Nobara were there listening in, too. This dawned on you when they kept looking back at each other and Megumi. As much as you wanted to continue your over-sharing experience, this was a good place to stop, considering your son might not be mentally ready for the others. ‘That’s for another time.’

Before anyone could speak up, particularly Megumi, the door to the room slid open, revealing Maho, Akari, Nanako, and Mimiko. Maho glances around the room curiously before coughing into her hand.

“I’m sorry to break up your little conversation, y’all. But the first years need to get going on their night mission. Akari is here to take you three to the location now. Also, Suguru, the girls want to check out a new pop-up dessert stand while on patrol in the Taito ward.”

Suguru chuckles, standing up and straightening out his uniform. He bid you and Satoru bye while sending good luck the first years' way. Nanako started to whine that they’d be late queuing Suguru to get going. Once Suguru leaves, the first years begin to leave the room. You got up to stretch when you noticed Megumi stopping at the doorway. You start to regret telling Megumi all this because this may not allow him to focus on the mission. Putting his friends and the mission in danger.

Just as you were about to call for him, he hastily walked over and gave you a tight hug. Startled at first, you eventually returned with the same intensity. Even though Megumi was 15 years old, a young, proper man, you can’t help but see your little baby boy who always called out Mama. You softly pat his head and kiss his forehead before your son pulls away. Megumi looks at you with a soft smile he has always given since he was a young boy.

“I’ll be safe, Mom. Don’t worry, I’ll come back home in one piece.” Megumi reassured you.

“ Sweet, soft hum I know you will. Just promise me you, Yuuji, and Nobara will try to be careful.”

“Of course, Mom. We will.”

Toji grins at Megumi and nods when his son locks his eyes with him. You look over at the other two standing behind Megumi. They replied to you with a ‘Yes, Ma’am!’ in a saluting position. You laughed at their antics before shoeing them off to Akari for their mission. As their footsteps grew quiet, you relaxed your shoulders briefly before squaring them back up. You haven’t forgotten that Satoru was still in the room with you and Toji. He was still sitting, his signature grin gone and replaced with a firm line on his lips. You know he was peering up at you through his blindfold while Toji causally threw an arm around your shoulder.

“(L/N)-dono, did you purposely leave out the conditions of your deal with the higher-ups to Megumi-kun?”

“. . .Yes. My son has every right to know about what happened. But simultaneously, this is a matter to be shared with him alone, not when his other classmates are present. The aftermath of the Star Plamsa incident created a domino effect that thrust Megumi into this world. When I tell him everything, I want it so he’s not forced to put his guard up. I wish for him to be comfortable with his vulnerability to this reality our family is in. To tell there’s the possibility he could lose his parents will weigh heavily on him, and he’s already been through so much for his age.”

You attentively gaze down at Satoru. It wasn’t unusual for him to look out for you, to show his caring, almost vulnerable side. He knows you don’t like hiding truths from people, especially your children. So, for you not to tell the other details means something else that’s made you hesitant. He was right, as you revealed the other issue.

“I also don’t want to jeopardize Megumi’s relationship with Toji. I won’t force him to feel what he already has. But I at least want him to understand that his father loves his family more than anything, even though what Toji did was inexcusable. I just don’t want to put Megumi under pressure in front of other people to be this calm, reserved Sorcerer. I want my son to be present and comfortable asking me anything when I tell him. You know how Megumi is, Satoru.”

He simply nods at your answer before he stands up at his full 190 cm height. He pulls on his goofy grin, pulling a complete 180 from how he was mere minutes ago.

“Of course, (Y/N)-dono. I understand, given what Megumi-kun is like when he’s on missions. Anyway, I gotta meet with Yaga-san, or I’ll get yelled at again. I’ll see you later, (Y/N)-dono!”

Satoru walks out of the room, leaving you and your husband alone. It was quiet, the sound of nature only resonating in the room. Then you suddenly felt Toji’s arms wrapped around you firmly, laying his forehead on your shoulder. Gently grasp Toji’s forearms and rub them soothingly.

“I know it’s hard for you to come forward to tell Megs this, Hon. I’m sorry I couldn’t say my part. I'm still terrible at saying my words. Thank you for speaking in my place, (Y/N).” Toji vocalizes, his tenderness revealing itself in the confines of the sit-in room.

“I appreciate it, Honey. You know I always have your back like you have mine. But please know Megumi does care for you, Toji. He has his own way of showing it, that’s all.” You assured him.

“Yeah, I know. He doesn’t like to do those whole words of affirmation things. I get the kid.”

“Hm, where have I seen that before? Like father like son, I guess.” You feigned your curiosity at your husband.

This evokes a burst of laughter out of Toji as he turns you around while still holding you close. Looking at you like an absolute fool too deep in love.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you, (Y/N)? Come here, you.”

Toji dips his head, going for a kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed in response. You would have kept them closed if your phone hadn’t buzzed off in your pocket three times. You pulled away just as Toji was millimeters away from your lips. Toji groans as you check your phone to see who texted you.

“Who the hell is texting you right now–?” Toji asked in annoyance.

“It’s from Megumi, Dear. Give me a second.”

Toji grumbles, shoving his face in your neck to see what his son sent. You can feel your husband pouting, making you rub his head to calm him down. You read your son's texts that interrupted you and your husband’s intimate moment.

‘We’re at the location, Mom’

‘It doesn’t look bad, but I’ll still be careful.’

‘I’ll text you when we’re done, Mom.’

‘I love you, Mama❤️’

You cooed at Megumi’s text, sending your replies to him. Toji notices the texts and smiles as well. Megumi, indeed, was a mama’s boy; there is no denying it. Your sweet smile still graces your lovely lips as you look at your husband.

“Toji, stop pouting. I’ll give you all the kisses you want when we get home. I know how you are, you fiend.”

“What do you mean, Hon? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You give Toji the stare that causes him to put his hands up in defense while scratching the back of his head. You roll your eyes as you escape your buff husband’s grasp, walking towards the door.

“If we get groceries and you cook dinner tonight, I’ll let you have your way with me, Dear~. Tsumiki said she was staying at a friend’s house because they were studying for an exam tomorrow. She won’t be home until Friday afternoon.” You said in your suggestive tone, sending a wink to your husband over your shoulder.

Toji holds a mischievous smirk as he quickly walks over to follow you closely as you leave the grounds of Jujutsu Tech.

“Of course, Doll. Anything for you~.”

269 notes · View notes

spacecowboyhotch · 4 months

Text

In Plain Sight, Ch 2: A Hoard of Cupids

summary: nathan’s much more insightful about you than he used to be. it’s making you uneasy…and curious.

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, enemies to lovers (sorta), boss/employee dynamics, pining, nathan trying to be nice but he’s so abrasive lol, pining, mentions of caretaking/sick family members, mentions of emotionally abusive parents, masturbation (m), sub!nathan if you squint

wc: 2,745

AN: back at it with part twoooo. thank you all for the kind words and support on this fic, i didn’t expect it to get the response it did but i’m really excited to give y’all the rest. fair warning that these chapters seem to be getting longer as i write on. happy reading!

in plain sight masterlist | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Nathan gives you space— at first. When you return the next day at 7 a.m. sharp he’s nowhere to be found. Not in the living room or in the kitchen, not on his patio boxing. You assume he’s in his room, probably toying with one of his bots in a distasteful manner. The idea makes you shudder. But is it not easier to come to work with every task he could want you to do placed on his desk, no fuss?

You don’t like Nathan Bateman. He’s a pompous asshole, a know it all, a man who thinks only about his own desires. When he apologized— or rather attempted to— yesterday you thought that maybe you slipped and fallen down the stairs on your way out. By his standards, it was a top tier apology. You’d never once heard him apologize to anyone. On your drive home you had wondered if he had ever apologized in his life. The thought made you giggle, and then you’d turned up the music and forgotten about him until right now.

Sat at your desk, an ungodly stack of things to do. There’s a note sat on top. It’s simple and straightforward, lacking emotion but somehow still has your stomach flipping. It reads:

In meetings all day— let me know if you need anything. Go home early today.

Mr. Bateman

P.S. I’ll spruce up my apologizing skills.

You regard the note cautiously, raising your brow at it before you let yourself laugh a little. Was this a joke or had Nathan Bateman taken some criticism to heart (which is rumored to not exist). You fold the note up, and for some reason slip it into your bag.

The last thing that’s on your mind is that Nathan’s watching you. He sits in the dark at his monitors, leaning in closely. His eyes trace your figure on the screens intensely, watching as you read and read and read. He expects no reaction from you beside maybe throwing it in the trash. But then you laugh, and he watches you store it for safekeeping. A piece of him will go home with you. Nathan never thought he’d be jealous of a piece of paper, not when he seems to have the entire world at his fingertips.

—

He returns to his normal behavior after a week— partially because he thinks you settled in. And partially because…well he begrudgingly can admit to himself, in the comfort of his own mind, that he misses you. When you get to work the next Monday he’s sat on an observation table, examining what looks like a deconstructed robot brain.

You aren’t even able to open your mouth and say good morning before he’s talking to you.

“Are you sleeping okay?” He asks, his eyes appraising you intensely.

You stop in your tracks, regarding him as always, your expression pieced into that calm expression. So you’re back to normal, none of that fire. He expected it but that doesn’t keep him from feeling disappointed.

“Sir?”

“You look really fucking tired. Exhausted,” He tacts on for good measure.

Your spine goes completely rigid, your grip on your bag tightening. You are tired. So very tired. You work shitty hours for incredible money and then go home to take care of your younger sisters and mother. Dealing with Nathan is for them. For your sisters’ schooling, so they won’t feel left out when the other kids have the newest gadget or shoes. For your mother’s ever piling medical bills. It’s important that you don’t jeopardize something so precious.

“Is it affecting my work? Have I done something wrong?” You ask him softly.

“No— that’s not why I’m—“ He stutters before closing his mouth and starting anew. You’ve never seen him like this. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was flustered. But knowing Nathan, he’s just never asked a single employee he’s ever had if they’re alright. “I’m your boss, I worry about your well being. That’s what good bosses do.”

“Are you sure?” You ask evenly, eyes still trained on him.

“Am I—“ He stops, eyes wide for a fraction of a second before he bites away his smile. “Are you fucking with me?”

If he was looking at you so intentionally he would miss the way your mouth twitches. “I’m fine, Mr. Bateman. I have a lot of responsibilities, not only here but out there as well.”

“Out there?”

“The real world. Thank you for the concern, sir.”

For the second time, you’ve rendered Nathan speechless. That night he lays in bed thinking of you, like many nights prior. He turns your words over in his head time and time again. The real world. Do you think he doesn’t know what it’s like out there? He wonders how much research you’d done for the job. Nathan used his brain to get here, climbing and climbing. He hadn’t been born into this but his personality lent itself to such a conclusion. Nathan knows what his real world used to look like, though one day he hopes that any of his contraptions can help him forget. He wonders what your real world looks like.

There’s no ring on your finger, but you could have a partner. Kids? Another job? He pays you well enough for that to not be necessary. Maybe you volunteer at a puppy shelter. He could picture it. You in something other than your stuffy work clothes, a smile on your face as you drown in puppy breath and slobber.

He groans, rolling over in bed to plant his face deeply in the pillow. Maybe he can smother himself out of this. Thinking about puppies? He might as well be one, he’s practically lovesick if you have him thinking like this. When would he get used to feeling this way? His usual cynical thoughts feel like they’re being pillaged by a hoard of cupids.

He doesn’t even know if you feel the same. Being better for you is one thing, but what if there’s no payoff? What if he changes for you and you leave him high and dry? Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He feels the back of his neck sweating and sits up.

Nathan’s been down this road before, it’s brought him his fortune and an insane work ethic. It’s all brought him sorrow he’ll never be able to escape. Being with his parents feels like a fever dream sometimes and other times he feels 6 again, like he’s drowning in their expectations and insults, trying to measure up. He’d given up eventually, once he realized that they would never love him the way parents should. Why try to do anything anyone wanted but himself when they could still treat him poorly for it?

He’s the way he is from his own indoctrination. He doesn’t know where he would be if he hadn’t convinced himself that he was the only person that truly matters.

But, now there’s you. You, who looks so soft, you that scratches an itch he didn’t even realize he had. You, that he wants to goad and prod and poke until you unleash all of yourself on him. He closes his eyes and lays back, envisioning you right here with him. He feels insane, his heart— his mind, his dick— are taking him through a whirlwind of emotions right now.

He palms himself through his boxers, eyes squeezing shut tighter than before as he tries to narrate. He pictures you in one of his white shirts, it’s fabric nearly see-through with the way it clings to your breasts. He grasps his length through his boxers letting out a heaving sigh. Fuck he wishes this was you.

If there’s anything that Nathan knows how to do its not only being smartest but the most imaginative. He’s been daydreaming for as long as he can remember. Universes with better outcomes— having worth, or loving parents or anyone for that matter. Anyone to be on his side. He imagined codes and synthetic body parts that live and breathe in front of him. He can surely imagine you, breathy and horny in his bed, jerking him off. He doesn’t care if it’s fucked up, or inappropriate. He wants you, and maybe this is the only way he can have you. He slides his boxers down, finally done teasing himself. Licking his palm, he grabs his cock, starts stroking and succumbs to the thought of you.

Another moan bubbles out of his throat. He can see your nipples through his shirt when you straddle him like this. Your thighs are soft against his own and he would reach for your free hand, thread his fingers through your own. Your hands are smaller than his, smooth and supple. And god, you’re stroking him just the way he likes it, the soft wet sound making pleasure shoot through his groin.

You’d overstimulate him wouldn’t you? With that clever mouth barely pulling up a grin, eyes full of fire as you stroke him past the point of pleasure. Would you make him watch? See the way your hands would grow slick and shiny with his cum as you kept pumping and pumping, pushing him to another release. Covering you both in him, until you’re too needy to keep toying with him. Nathan cums just as he’s imagining the feeling of you dragging your bare pussy against his sensitive cock. He whines and keens off the bed, the high singing in his veins. He swears he can almost imagine the way you would moan.

His eyes open, the spell broken. He’s alone, covered in his own spend, chest heaving like he just ran a 10k. He avoids his reflection when he walks into the bathroom to clean up. His loneliness spikes again and he heads to the kitchen, reaching for the first bottle he can find.

—

“You’re late,” He says stiffly, crossing his arms as he watches you cross the space to sit at your desk.

The day after he’d gotten off thinking of you he’d had the slightest difficulty looking at you. It quickly faded, he was too greedy. Too needy, if he’s being honest. He can’t get enough, he doesn’t know if he could ever say it but you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

You’re openly frazzled; your shirt isn’t tucked in, your hair is a little more frizzy than usual and you look as tired as ever. He regrets his biting tone immediately.

Even as you explain you’re moving, setting your to-go mug on the desk, fetching your calendar, booting up your computer. “I know, I’m sorry, Mr. Bateman. My sisters were less than cooperative this morning.”

Nathan turns completely away from the bins he’s been searching through, raising a brow at you in surprise, “Your sisters?”

“Yes— one is 7 the other is 14. The little made getting out of the house…difficult,” You murmur distractedly, eyes trained on your screen.

“Isn’t that your parents’ fucking job?”

His question snaps you back to the present— you hadn’t shared nearly as much as you could’ve. But you’d gone into this job wanting to be nameless and faceless. Memorable only for the quality of the work you do.

You shake your head, daring a quick glance in his direction that you immediately regret when your eyes meet his.“I realized that I’ve shared far too much about my personal life. I should work, Mr. Bateman.”

Nathan immediately understands your deflecting. How many times has he been asked by reporters and interviewers where his family is? Enough times that he’s had his publicist strike the topic from the acceptable lists. That was about all he was good for anyway, Nathan says what he wants when he wants.

He goes back to the task at hand— though now with you here he doesn’t quite remember what that was. A part…some sort of part that he needed. Wires? Screws? A metal plate? He sighs in frustration and leaves without another word.

Your gaze is on the door as soon as it shuts, making sure he’s gone. The tears that you’ve been biting back fall and you bury your face in your hands. Your youngest sister had begged and pleaded for you to stay warm in bed with her this morning. With your mother so sick, you’ve practically raised her yourself these last few years. It makes her needy, which you understand. But what she doesn’t understand is how delicate the balance you found in caring for your entire family is. Middle sister lacks just as much understanding, with heaps of attitude. She doesn’t want to snuggle with you or with younger sister. Mediating this entire situation is what made you late.

It feels like you’re cracking under the pressure but that isn’t an option, is it? As if the universe wants to make it clear, your computer chimes. It’s Nathan, asking you to come to his office.

—

He’d meant to go clear his head in his office and come back to get whatever part he was in need of. But, when he sat in his chair he was met with the sight of you hunched over your desk, presumably crying by the way your shoulders jerked every once and a while.

He’s pinging you before he can think better of it. He watches you read his message. You’re such an anomaly— you sit up immediately, reaching for some tissues and cleaning yourself up as if nothing happened. You even check yourself in the reflection of your computer, fidgeting with your hair, tucking in your shirt once you stand. As soon as you start out of the office he turns off his monitors, not one to be caught snooping around though it’s right and was clear in the contract. Maybe you’ve forgotten. Perhaps you don’t think your anything worth watching…Nathan would like to change that assumption.

“You pinged me, sir?”

How would he play this? He couldn’t admit that he just watched you cry.

“Trying my hand at this apologizing shit again. I— Nathan Bateman— am sorry for being insensitive. Like I said last time, I don’t know your life or you. Alright, how was that?”

“I would say a solid, 5/10, which is a 50% improvement.”

“Fuck me, you’re a tough crowd. What am I docked for? You know I’m all about perfection.”

“There was a lack of originality. And you omitted your middle name.”

It takes everything in Nathan not to giggle. The way the words come out of your mouth are so funny… or maybe he’s just obsessed. It could be both. “My middle name is classified information.”

“Does Wikipedia know that?” You ask, tilting your head in that uncanny way.

Nathan can’t hold in his laugh this time, running a hand over his beard, “You’re funnier than you look.”

Your mouth twitches, and you give him the smallest nod, “Thank you, sir. Is that all?”

He pretends to think about it. “This apology is feeling pretty one-sided to me.”

“I accept your apology, Mr. Bateman, thank you.”

“Accept something else,” He proposes, going out on a limb. Suddenly your stare is too intense, the room is too hot and small. What the fuck is he doing?

“What’s that?” You ask, as soft and sweet as ever.

“Dinner. Tomorrow,” He says simply.

“With you?”

Nathan ignores the twinge in his heart— your tone barely changed. If he wasn’t with you every single day, studying you, he wouldn’t even have noticed.

“I can invite the droids if you want. They’ll just stare at us while we eat.”

Your hand tightens around your planner. Dinner with Nathan…choosing to be around him? It seemed like as of late he was trying to be…more palatable. This could be an act of good faith. But, you have your sisters and mother to think about. You’ve given her nurse enough overtime hours in the last few weeks.

“Without getting too personal, I don’t think I’ll be able to swing it sir, I have to get home to my sisters as soon as possible.”

Yes, your family, that you never talk about. He could accommodate, what’s he the fucking boss for if he can’t?

“We’ll do it early.”

You sway a little as you think about this— that’s new, he thinks to himself, filing that information away for later.

“You’ve already got me apologizing, I can’t add saying please to the list of acceptable behaviors. I’ll lose my fucking edge.”

“How early?”

“3:30.”

“Alright, then, sir.”

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue , @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @kotaropuppy

#nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x fem!reader #nathan bateman #nathan bateman fanfiction #ex machina fanfiction #in plain sight #arson writes #not sfw

256 notes · View notes

jasperhaleobsessed · 4 months

Text

The grumpy cowboy (Twilight Gift Exchange)

Jasper Hale x Female reader (gift for flesh--amnesiac)

Summary: I'm thinking maybe Jasper and the reader have a hate to love relationship? Like maybe Jasper act like he hates the reader but deep down loves her. Like he gets annoyed at things that she does. Like maybe she's what is referred to as a sunshine character. Someone who's always happy and it like irks Jasper to no end instead of making him feel at ease. Maybe he does or says something to her that really cuts deep deep and he doesn't feel bad about it until he realise what he criticized her on was for her family who was life alteringly ill or something.

Notes: Takes place during the first book twilight. I am so sorry if Jasper seems OOC but I'm hoping by the end of it he seems more like the cowboy we all know and love. This is only my second x reader fic so bear with me! I'm not the best with writing angst but I'm gonna try!! :)

Notes for flesh--amnesiac: • 𝙈𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙨 🎄 𝙄 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢�� 𝙜𝙞𝙛𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 • 𝙄 𝙖𝙡𝙨𝙤 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝙔𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 • 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 • 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙄'𝙢 𝙨𝙤 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙎𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙖 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙚

Warnings: Some angst but it'll have a sweet ending don't worry! <3

Word count: 3k

Tagging: @flesh--amnesiac and @twilight-secret-gift-exchange

Jasper's POV

My family and I walked into the Cafeteria, as we headed to our usual spot more than a few pairs of eyes landed upon us. We seated ourselves and started to converse. But the conversation wasn't eventful, all we did was some small talk. Today was going to be a long day, I thought glumly. I shifted my focus to my siblings. I noticed that each of them attempted to act as if we were eating but we failed miserably. I gave up long ago trying to act normal. I had heard more than a few ugly rumors about myself and my siblings. I shook that thought away. I gazed back at the food. Human food wasn’t…very good. But this school’s food was worse than the other school’s I’ve been to. Edward even tossed a piece of an apple across our table in disgust. I could feel his uneasiness towards our meals. They all felt disturbed by our food, I couldn't agree more it didn't exactly smell appetizing.

I felt their boredom, they tried to entertain themselves. Edward was focused on Jessica Stanley who was conversing with the new student Isabella Swan. Or Chiefs Swans daughter that many knew little about. But word travels fast, rumors run wild very quickly. I'm sure Jessica will learn a lot about her in a short period of time. That girl loves to talk. Everyone seemed to be curious and intrigued by Isabella just like they were when we arrived in Forks. Suddenly I could feel frustration and anger radiating off of Edward. I decided against asking him, he usually would vocalize these things when he was ready. So I shifted my focus to Alice, she appeared to be having another vision. I wonder what it could be? She was deep in thought, I thought it would be best if I left her alone. I wouldn't want to disturb her while in such a fragile state.

Emmett had his arm around Rosalie, they were both entranced into one another. I could feel the love they had for one another, it radiated brightly. I turned my attention away when I heard a familiar voice.

I looked to the side, getting a small view of who was conversing. I realized that Y/N was talking to the new girl Isabella Swan. She introduced herself “Hi I’m Y/N! It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She smiled warmly at her. I don't understand how she can be so…nice all the time. She held her hand out for Isabella to shake. Isabella looked surprised but took her hand, and shook it gently. “It was a pleasure to meet you as well.” Y/N spoke up and asked “It’s Isabella right?”

“No, I go by Bella.” Isa–Bella I corrected, she looked annoyed. Y/N nodded in understanding.

Bella turned to Jessica and asked, “Who are they?”

Y/N chuckled. “What’s so funny?” Jessica asked.

“Oh nothing.” She turned her attention back to eating her lunch. I think the amount of time Jessica has talked about us Y/N is sick of it.

I didn't particularly like her. We'd never quite gotten along. But some may argue that I never really gave her a chance or anyone for that matter. Most humans avoided us, but I guess what worked out well for me because of their scent. Socializing doesn't work very well due to my lack of control. The thirst for blood was just too much. I felt my throat burn, lunch will be over soon then I can get some fresh air. I need it desperately.

I could feel Emmett conflict as I continued gazed at where she was seated. But he finally got the guts and asked me, "Why do you hate her so much?"

"I don't hate her." He gave me a look. The rest of my siblings turned to look in our direction. Edward tore away from looking at Bella and turned to me. He smirked, he leaned forward listening intently.

"Okay, okay I don't love her but I really don't hate her. She's just annoying and infuriating. And she’s just so…nice it irks me.” I shivered thinking about her.

“It irks you?” Edward questioned.

“Yes, Edward it does.” Emmett boomed with laughter.

After wiping away some fake tears he said,“Uh huh. Suree.” I rolled my eyes at his antics. Rosalie looked amused as Emmett. They were truly made for each other. And Alice looked excited. I could feel her excitement, the question is what did she see?

The bell rang and my siblings and I headed to our next class. My next class just happened to be with Y/N but at least it was History, my favorite subject.

…

Y/N’s POV

I sat down in my usual spot in the classroom, I sat my romance book on the desk and situated myself. My partner wasn’t here today so I was sadly alone for the day but at least I could read. I flipped to my last spot and started to read. I was at the end of the book and it happened to be one of those hallmark books. Yeah I know it's cheesy. But it’s predictable and sweet. I was towards the end where they’d kiss and makeup. My favorite part. I smiled to myself, I felt a blush creep up on my face as the couple were finally leaning in to kiss and then the bell rang. I begrudgingly closed my book and looked up to listen to Mrs.Lewis.

“Today in class, you will be starting a project on the Civil War.” Some of the people in my class groaned while others looked at each other excitingly, hoping to be groupmates or partners.

“But I will be picking partners.” I groaned along with my peers. This was gonna be fun. Maybe it won’t be so bad? I guess I’m just gonna have to be hopeful I’ll get someone I like.

“Now, Once you all will be in pairs together…” She emphasized and then continued. “You will be deciding on a certain event or a certain person that is critical to the Civil War. For example for a certain person you could do a presentation on President Lincoln or a Sergeant even that was critical or played a crucial part in the Civil War. In other words the person or event needs to be influential to what happened in the War. Now if any of you have any questions let me know.” She looked up eyeing the class.

“Right, I almost forgot the project will be on a postboard. You will need four pictures of the event or person. You will need to explain why they were influential, 5 fun facts, a general explanation of the Civil War, and what happened at said event or what your person did.”

I wonder who I’ll be with? I kept thinking this over and over. I was starting to get nervous. I suddenly felt a wave of calmness rush through me. I drifted my eyes from Mrs.Lewis and started to look around the room and met a pair of golden eyes. Jasper Hale was looking at me. Doesn’t he hate me…? At least that’s what it always has seemed like. But you could argue that he dislikes most people at this school. But if he does hate me, why? What'd I do? If he didn’t hate me so much I’d admit he’s kinda cute. Wait what? I turned away quickly trying to forget about that thought.

Mrs.Lewis was calling partners, people were shifting to different seats. I tried to wait patiently but it wasn’t easy. I kept tapping my foot over and over again. And then I heard my name. But it wasn’t what I was expecting. Or who I was expecting to be with.

She called, “Jasper Hale and Y/N L/N.” I didn't move. I stayed still. I was shocked. I wasn't expecting to be his partner.

I just couldn't believe it. I was gonna be partnered with Jasper Hale? We’ve never gotten along. Clearly since he hates my guts.

“Ms.L/N?” Mrs.Lewis called.

“Yes?”

“Did you hear me? Are you going to move?” She asked.

“Right, sorry Mrs.Lewis.” I moved my backpack, book and headed to where Jasper was sitting. He tended to sit in the back, he was always very quiet. He also had a habit of glaring at people and seemed to be in pain. I don't know how to explain it, it just always seems angry. I don't know what his problem is. Hmm maybe he has a good reason or there's more than what meets the eye. I hope I'm wrong. I don't want him to hate me, I don't want anyone to hate me.

She nodded curtly. And I positioned myself in my seat.

I focused my attention back to Jasper. I turned towards him and asked “So how do you want to do this?” I asked.

“Do what?” He asked.

“Umm…how do you want to split up the work and what event or person do you want to do the Civil War on?” I asked, for some reason I felt kinda awkward.

He looked deep in thought, “We could do it on Abraham Lincoln. That shouldn't be too difficult.”

“Okay.” I felt bored. I don't think this is gonna be a fun project. I looked down staring at my paper. While I was shocked Jasper grabbed our papers for the assignment. I think the paper had something to do with the research. It was supposed to guide us?

“Am I boring you?”

“What?!” I felt my cheeks flush.

“N-no! I'm just unsure how to feel about the project that's all. I-it's not you.”

He leaned forward, “So it's the it's not you its me line, huh?” He joked. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile. His smile was beautiful like an angel. It may be silly or cheesy but it really did.

“Nooo… okay maybe a little.” I felt a bit embarrassed. I rubbed the back of my neck. My cheeks once again flushed. So I decided to distract myself by grabbing a history book from my desk. I grabbed a pencil and started to write down some notes for the project.

“What are you doing?” He asked, looking at me carefully.

I turned back to look at him and said, “Umm…writing down some notes for the project?”

“You sound unsure.” He observed.

I take a deep breath and say what’s been nagging at me this whole time. “Why do you hate me so much? What did I do to you that was so awful? Why do you stare at me with daggers in your eyes?” I feel anger course through me.

“Why do you care? You’re as bad as everyone at this school, in this town. You're all the same.” He said carelessly. He looked so angry. Rageful. His eyes were dark, coal back. I’ve never seen someone look this angry. It scared me. But then my anger rushed back, the nerve of this man. He knows nothing. I try to be kind, nice, good, and true. I’m not perfect but I’ve never said anything bad about him. Or about anyone. I try to be nice to him and to everyone for that matter. I am not always perfect. I may mess up and get angry but I’ve never treated him or anyone like this. I’ve never assumed that everyone is the same because they’re not! We’re all unique individuals with our own amazing qualities. But then the sadness rushed in me, I felt tears spring in my eyes. Why does he have to be so cruel and so cute? The bell had perfect timing, it rang and I left as fast as I could.

…

Jasper’s POV

I could feel her anger from miles away. Who you may ask? My pixie of a sister. Alice. She’s angry, to put it lightly. My siblings wanted to know what was wrong. But neither of us would budge. I’m sure Edward tried to read her mind but she blocked him out. I only know this because he looked frustrated. When we got home she berated me. Everyone was staring.

“What is wrong with you?!” She questioned.

“What do you mean what’s wrong with me?” I asked.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “You're gonna let her get away? She’s your mate! You love her! Anyone would say she's literally a ball of sunshine!” She yelled. I’d never seen her so angry. It was unlike her. I tried to send calming waves through her but that only made her angrier. She pointed a finger towards me, “Do not try to calm me down! I am not done! And I will not stop until you see reason!”

She continued by saying, “You thought it'd be a good idea to break her cute little heart? She cares about you Jasper, flaws and all. So go get her. Hold her tight and don’t let her go because she's a keeper, alright!” I stared at her blankly. She took a deep breath, “I know that your are most likely scared anyone would be–”

“Except for ME!” Emmett yelled. Rosalie slapped his head. “Aw!” He yelled again. Everyone watched and listened intently.

“Anyways, I know you're scared but don’t push her away, you need her. And I know you assume the worst because you’ve all you’ve known but some humans can be truly good. Think about it. Please.” She pleaded.

“I will.” I say calmly.

She pointed her small finger at me again, “You better mister or you’ll be in a lot of trouble.” She said with some sass in her voice. I scoffed at her jokingly of course.

I decided to get some fresh air, I needed to think.

When I first met her or saw her it did irk me with how much she could be kind or nice. But as time went on her kindness and sunshine felt pleasing. Most humans especially when they’re teenagers emotions are everywhere and that means it can be a lot. It can be suffocating at times. But when I felt Y/N’s emotions it was like a breath of fresh air. It felt good after so long of so many suffocating emotions. But it did take a while before it felt like this. For the first year I had met her I really did dislike her and how she acted irked me. It rubbed me the wrong way. Then I realized I didn’t hate her, I loved her. She was so kind, so sincere, so true and I didn’t want to take that away. So I avoided her, I kept telling myself I hated her with every fiber of my being. But it just isn’t true. Even though I knew she was kind I did feel a bit wary of her because most people in this High School weren’t exactly the most sincere. And then I convinced myself she was just like everybody else. It would be easier this way, I wouldn’t hurt her. I wouldn’t harm her. I honestly don’t know why I said what I did. Maybe in a way it was me trying to protect myself from harm or maybe it was the fact I wanted to protect her from me. I think I’m scared of hurting her.

The look in her eyes broke my heart. The way her eyes were glossy from tears ready to spill out of her eyes was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. Alice thought she needed to snap some sense in me but she didn’t. I already knew. I could already feel it. I could feel her heartbreak, her anger towards me. But I can’t leave her like that. I have to do something. I won’t leave the person I love most hurt so deeply. I have to mend her broken heart, I have to mend my broken heart too. I love her too much to leave her in the state she is. I remember the way it felt when her heart broke into a million pieces. I felt her anger. I could imagine her saying “How dare he?” ‘Why would he think that?” I say how she essentially ran out of the classroom because of the pain I’d caused her. I felt her fear, I wanted her to feel safe with me. But first I need to hunt quickly and I know something for certain. I will do something about this. I vow to never cause her such pain again.

…

Y/N’s POV

I felt like my heart was broken into a million pieces and was trampled on. I was currently laying in my soft, comfy bed surrounded by my favorite stuffed animals alongside my trusty tub of ice cream. I also was playing soft music in the background. I felt tears stream down my face, I snuggled closer to my stuffed animals. I know it may be childish but I need all the comfort I can get. So who cares!

I couldn’t help but think of the times when I saw Jasper help a fellow classmate or when he helped one of the teachers. Many including myself thought at times he seemed cold but that wasn’t it was it? I’m sure what’s going on with me but I don't think he is what meets the eye. But at the same time that can’t be true he literally just looked at me with such hatred. Now, I don’t know what to think. Maybe he isn’t as good as I thought. I hope I’m wrong. I turned over and closed my eyes. But just as I started to doze my mom yelled, “Y/N! You have a visitor!” A visitor? Who’s coming to visit me? What’s going on? I moved from my bed practically running down the stairs. I kept thinking who it could be. I was not expecting him to be here. I was shocked. My mom said with a small smile “I’ll leave you too alone.”

It was Jasper. He was here! He was wearing a black suit which, funny enough, suited him well. He looked very gentleman-like and handsome. I couldn’t help but blush looking down. I had almost forgotten what had happened. But it hit me like a rock. He said some pretty cruel things. And scared me half to death while doing it. I looked up at his honey golden eyes, “Why are you here?” I asked quietly. I wasn’t sure what to feel. I was unsure. But a question kept popping in my head, Why is he here? What does he want?

He spoke up and said, “I came here to apologize, I should have said what I did. It was wrong. You aren’t like everyone and perhaps everyone else isn’t so bad either. You truly are an amazing person and I am so lucky to have met you. You're so warm, so kind, nice, sweet, sincere, loyal, and true. If you can accept me for what I am, flaws and all, then I’d be the happiest man on earth.” I gasped. No man, no guy, no boy had ever said anything like this to me before.

And I could see it in his eyes. He meant it, he loved me too. He truly cared and I hadn’t felt that in a long time. I felt tears fall out of my eyes. And I hugged him and he spun me around. I had never felt this happy, this joyous.

“Of course, I forgive you! You’d be too hard not to be such a gentleman!” I let out a giggle. He wipes out my remaining tears. He speaks up again, “I have one more surprise.” He pulls out a bouquet of Gardenia. It could mean, “Purity and sweetness and they can indicate a secret love or crush. They give joy and if given you are telling the recipient you think they are lovely.” It’s funny I just read this the other day. This man is full of surprises but amazing ones.

“I love you Jasper Hale.” He smiles, “I love you too Y/N L/N too.” He leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips.

The End

#twilight #twilight saga #the twilight saga #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #jasper cullen #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale x y/n #twilight x reader #twilight x y/n #twilight x you #twilight fanfiction #twilight fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #my fanfic #my fanfiction

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wttcsms · 1 year

Note

“she fell first, but he fell harder” with any inarizaki boy of your liking please! 🩵 have a good day~

pairing rintarou suna x f!reader word count 2.6k content contains mutual pining, tutor!au, right person/wrong time, bittersweet ending, unrequited love, slight angst author’s notes maybe not what u anticipated hehe

You don’t look up from your book even though the slamming of a bookbag on top of the table obnoxiously announces the arrival of another student, one who’s obviously going to take the seat next to yours.

“Hey—” So it’s a boy then.

“—can I ask you for a favor?”

Now you look up, partially annoyed that he’s interrupted you while you were in the middle of reading a particularly interesting paragraph, but more curious than not. You tilt your head, taking him in. Of course, you know Rintarou Suna — it’s hard for any student in the school not to know him. But just because you’re aware of his existence — and if you dare to allow yourself to be bold enough, you think he’s aware of your own — doesn’t exactly make the two of you chummy enough to ask each other for favors on a Tuesday morning.

You must have a bad poker face because he raises both hands in mock surrender. “Look, just hear me out. I need to pass this English class or my coach and captain won’t sign off on allowing me to play in the next few matches. I’ve seen the rankings; you’re top of our class. You know this shit a lot better than I do.”

A beat passes.

Two startling and equally scary revelations:

Now that you’re finally seeing him up close, Suna’s eyes are a much lighter shade than you thought they were. (Not that you’ve given his eyes much thought up until now, anyway.) It suits him. And,

Suna is absolutely aware of your existence.

“I’ll owe you one.” He says, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He’s playing at being nonchalant, but you can see it in those lighter-than-you-thought eyes of his that he’s practically pleading with you.

“I want you to convince Atsumu Miya to do an interview for the school paper.” You finally say.

Raised eyebrows is the closest thing you’ll get to seeing emotion on his face, you think. “Done.” And then, “Why Atsumu?”

“He’s not an easy person to get a hold of, but I know being the first person to ever interview him will probably mean something in the future.”

He nods, taking it in. “So it’s not because you’ve got a crush on him?”

You can’t tell if he’s teasing you or not; his voice and facial expression give nothing away. Shifting a bit in your seat, you frown. “No. His bad dye job makes him an eyesore.”

The corners of Suna’s mouth curve up at that.

ii.

“I didn’t know you wrote for the school paper,” Suna says.

“I’m the president of the club.” You push a paper covered in red pen marks, all of them corrections and criticisms against him. “Suna, we’ve been going at this for almost two weeks now. How have you barely improved?”

“Maybe you’re just not a good tutor.” You can read him well enough to know that he’s only joking. “You wanna be a journalist or somethin’?”

“Don’t try to change the subject. At least pretend to look over your paper.” Sighing because you know he won’t actually do anything unless you appease him, you shrug. “I want to be a sports reporter.”

“So that’s why you were so excited to meet with Atsumu!” You don’t expect him to actually be invested in your life, but you excuse his exclamation as him being bored out of his mind and savoring any distraction he can get.

The idea of being just a pleasant distraction from the pain of schoolwork makes you feel weird.

iii.

As you near the two-month mark since your tutoring sessions began, you make progress with Suna. He’s funnier than you realize, both of you sharing the same dry sense of humor that has jokes that can only properly be delivered if you say it with a straight face. He’s shown you about 200 of the images and videos cluttering his camera roll, and you pretend there’s no intimacy in that. His grades in English have substantially gotten better, to the point where you’re certain one day he’s going to decide that he doesn’t need tutoring anymore.

(For some reason, that makes you kind of sad.)

For now, you’re content to just be sitting next to him, both of you silently working on your assignments. He’s rewriting his essay due tomorrow (he’s a bit of a procrastinator, really) and you on your latest article for the school paper. The silence in the library — the silence wrapping the two of you together — is surprisingly comfortable.

Sometimes, Suna can’t make it to the tutoring sessions, and you pretend that it doesn’t matter. You just shrug and smile and move on. After the third time he does, he confesses that it’s because he’s seeing someone.

We’re just talking, he tells you. But you know that he must really like her because Suna doesn’t usually waste his breath talking about things he doesn’t care to talk about. He’s the one who brought her up completely unprompted. You actually would have been more than okay with remaining completely oblivious to whoever Suna decides to enter the talking stage with.

He yawns, stretching his arms while he does so.

It should be illegal, you decide, for someone so out of reach to still be so close to you. If you shifted your body back against your chair, nothing would stop the inevitability of his outstretched fingers brushing against your hair. The thought of that happening makes you far more excited than it should.

(He never tells you when they stop talking, but you know when they do because somewhere in between all these tutoring sessions, you started to learn him.)

iv.

“You really think I’m just messin’ around?” He’s got his elbow resting on the library table, cheek and chin laying against the open palm of his hand. When Suna smiles, it’s a little crooked, almost like a smirk, yet warm enough to cause heat to rise to your cheeks, especially when he’s smiling and staring at you like that, like you’re the one person he actually wants to see.

“You’re always messing around,” You point out.

“I wouldn’t joke about this.” There’s that familiar pleading look in his eyes that contains enough superhuman strength to pound away at your steely resolve. It’s the same look he gave you all those months ago when you two were nothing more than classmates exchanging favors. It’s the same damn look that got you caught up in all sorts of messes: rearranging your schedule to tutor him, suddenly spending more time making sure you look good for school, rejecting the other guy who first asked you the same question Suna’s asking now…

“I’m serious. Please go to the dance with me.”

“You didn’t even give me chocolate or flowers.” You manage to say, trying to ignore the pleased sensation that overtakes your body. It’s a different reaction from what you felt when your other classmate asked, and he at least had the decency to bring you your favorite drink from the vending machine when he did it. “This doesn’t seem like a very serious request.”

He snorts. “Would you have even wanted me to show up to homeroom with a poster and a bouquet and the twins serenading you as I asked you to a school dance?”

He knows you well enough that an extravagant proposal like that would have you wanting to run into the nearest bathroom stall and lock yourself in there until school ended. The fact that he knows you would hate anything remotely close to that, less dramatic or not, makes you agree to go with him.

(Perhaps he’s spent these tutoring sessions learning you, as well.)

“Hey!”

You turn around at the sound of a familiar voice, smiling when he comes into view. Donned in the same oversized gown, graduation cap hanging from one hand, Rintarou Suna is smiling back at you.

“Knew you would graduate top of our class. Congratulations.”

“And you were ranked within the top twenty. Being a volleyball star just wasn’t enough for you, huh?”

It feels good to be out here, freshly graduated and knowing the rest of the world is out there, just beyond the boundaries of your high school. The heat is getting the best of everyone wearing the thick graduation gowns, but instead of looking like a sweaty mess like the rest of you mere mortals, Rintarou just seems to shine, as if he’s made for summer. His hair sticks up, probably an effect of being stuffed in the cap for so long, and you find yourself pressing down on his hair. This isn’t the first time you’ve tried to help him tame his cowlick, and the action is so familiar, that it doesn’t even catch him off guard.

“My tutor carried.” He says, grinning at you.

(You feel considerably warmer now, and it’s not because of the sun.)

The laugh you give him makes his grin only grow wider. You sound equal parts pleased and surprised, just like how you always do whenever he decides to randomly compliment you. Is it bad that he wants to make you laugh like this for the rest of his life?

Before he can make a proper quip, one that will surely have you laughing even harder, someone is gently tugging you away from him.

“Hey, babe, my parents wanted to get pictures of us together.” And then, as if realizing Suna’s right there even though he’s tall enough to be hard to miss and close enough to tug you back towards him, the boy stares at him. “Oh, hey. Suna, right?”

Everyone here pretends as if it’s not already obvious that you all know each other.

“Congrats on nationals, man.”

“Thanks.” Suna says, without sounding the least bit thankful, even though he should be. He thought the two of you broke up already, and he’s been preparing for how he’s going to confess his feelings for you for the past two months now. At least now, he won’t have to suffer your rejection and embarrass himself for making a move on a taken girl.

“C’mon, my mom’s going to hate us if we keep her waiting any longer.” Your boyfriend is holding your hand, leading you toward wherever his parents are. You turn your head, looking like you want to say something to Rintarou, anything at all, but instead you give him a shrug and a small smile.

He keeps that smile of yours tucked safely in his pocket, not knowing that it’ll be a few more years until he gets to see it again.

vi.

Staying in touch is hard, but Suna is nothing if not stubborn. A random TikTok sent to you at 2 AM here, an attempt to meet for lunch if the two of you are in the same city at the same time there.

Getting drunk from your high school reunion and sneaking into the library the two of you spent the better half of your high school years pining after each other in is the most fun Suna’s had in years. The two of you are lying on the plush carpet, too drunk to care about how dirty it must be.

“Gosh, we spent so much time in this place.” You’re looking up at the ceiling, tacky glow-in-the-dark stars still stuck to it, remnants left behind by students who graduated way before you two.

“Some of the happiest times of my life.” He’s being too honest without realizing it.

You laugh, thinking he’s just joking because you always think he’s joking every time he tries to hint at his feelings for you. Feelings that didn’t hit him until he realized how pretty you are, even with your hair tied back and your bottom lip being bitten to death by your teeth as you type away at an article none of the students in this school will even bother to read. Feelings that he wished he confessed to you on the dancefloor, when the two of you slow danced, and you asked him are we doing this as friends? and he didn’t have the balls to say anything but of course it’s as friends.

“Yeah, I bet having me roast the shit out of every paper you wrote was the highlight of your second year.”

“It’s because it was you doing it that made me so happy.”

You laugh even louder at that. “Oh my God, Rin, you’re such a sap when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not just sayin’ shit just to say it, y’know? I mean it.” He tries his hardest to make the sincerity in his words stick, but he’s drunk, and his words are kind of slurred, and his intentions just slip and slide away. “I liked you back then.” Still do, he doesn’t say. I still like you.

“No way, really?” You turn to face him, wide-eyed with a tipsy smile on your face that lets him know that you just don’t know how serious he is right now. “Because I had the biggest crush on you in high school too!”

He always assumed the feelings were returned, but the possibility that they weren’t — that him confessing would just fuck up your friendship and have you leave him — was too large for him to risk it. Swallowing hard, he asks,

“Did you… Did you ever think we would end up together? Back then, I mean?”

You hum, too inebriated and maybe too distant to him now to recognize the pleading look in his eyes. “I wanted us to, but then I thought there wasn’t a chance in hell you would actually like me back. Gosh, this was all so long ago, though. I can’t believe we used to like each other, isn’t that so funny, Rin?”

The used to reveals enough to him.

vii.

You’ve made a name for yourself now. You’re not just a mere sports reporter (he doesn’t know that he’s the first person you confessed your dream career to), but every professional volleyball team in Japan has deemed you their favorite reporter to see out on court. Rintarou blames the fluttering of his heart and the excitement that floods him every time he sees you at one of his games on your popularity, but he sees through his own flimsy excuse.

You don’t show favoritism when it comes to conducting your post-game interviews, but tonight, you’re standing in front of the camera with him, smiling up at him with a microphone in your hand. He’s happy you’re here, but the only question he cares to answer is the what if? that’s been haunting him ever since that reunion. What if he confessed in high school? What if he sobered up after that night and told you the truth? Would this interview be different, then? Would you still say,

“Congratulations on a game well played!”

And would he still say,

“I heard some more congratulations are in order.” He’s giving you the same lopsided smile he always gives you, the smile that rests on his face yet belongs to only you. It’s all anyone could talk about. Pictures of you flood his timeline; his teammates, other players, and sports fans alike all were overjoyed at your happy announcement. You didn’t just win his heart over, but a good portion of Japan’s as well.

“Congratulations on your engagement.”

You smile at him, practically beaming, shining so much brighter than these stadium lights, and he holds onto this one even tighter. A smile just for him, placed right next to the memory of the one you’d given him at graduation.

#suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #rintarou suna x reader #hq x reader #fluff #one shot #drabble #angst #imagine #hq fanfic #wttcsms writing warmups

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7-wonders · 6 months

Text

It's Just a Bunch of Hocus Pocus!

Summary: It's Halloweekend, and you've got a couple of parties to attend! Morpheus, who missed out on the development of Halloween into the holiday it is today, is very curious about what your plans are.

Word count: 1.8k

And now, a note from the author: Ahhh Claire actually managed to write something! I loved coming up with and writing this; I was giggling the entire time. As always, if you enjoyed, likes, comments, and reblogs (but especially the last two!) make my world go round. If you didn't like it, also let me know! I'm always down to hear constructive feedback/criticism—it's how we become better writers.

Though reader is wearing a skirt, the gender of reader is not specified! If you're non-binary or a guy and you wouldn't mind dressing up in a skirt for a group costume, I hope you enjoy this fic too!

It’s not often that Dream of the Endless visits you in your realm, instead of vice versa. While he had met you in the Waking, he had never been entirely comfortable there. That feeling, that wrongness, only increased tenfold after his imprisonment at the hands of Roderick Burgess. No, Morpheus is not overly fond of the Waking.

Tonight, however, he’s here, and you have a pretty good inkling as to why.

Though Morpheus would never admit it, hearing you talk helps to calm him down when he’s feeling stressed (another thing he would never admit to: stress). After a frustrating day of holding court—one of his least favorite things to do, but one that was integral to the functioning of his realm—you decided that telling him about your plans for the week would be a bland enough topic where he would not have to actually listen to your words, but simply your voice. Your plan seemed to be working; you could feel his body relaxing in your arms, and you had never been more relieved to hear the absentminded hums of someone who was only half-listening to a conversation.

At some point, you mentioned that you were excited about the Halloween parties that you would be attending. That got his attention, drawing him out of the reverie that your voice and your fingers carding through his hair had lulled him into. He shifted in your hold, his black pools of stars looking up at you curiously.

“All Hallows’ Eve is not for another week though, yes?” he asked.

“Yeah, but it’s during the week this year, which means everybody celebrates the weekend before.”

“Why not celebrate on the day itself? Traditionally, Samhain is a very important holiday.”

Now the miscommunication made sense in your mind. It was only natural that he still thought of the holiday as what it was before 1916. “Oh! Halloween has evolved a lot, especially in the past hundred years. It doesn’t really resemble the Samhain of old.”

He still looks a little confused but nods. “How interesting. So you will also be participating in these…festivities early?”

“Festivities” was a good way to put it, and you decided to just leave it at that. How the hell else were you supposed to explain to your eons-old, all-powerful boyfriend that the Halloween of today is about wearing a fun/sexy costume, doing spooky activities like haunted houses or watching scary movies, and partying?

“Yep!” you said. “I have plans with friends; we’re going to wear our costumes and go celebrate with others.”

“What will your costume be?”

“I’m not quite sure yet. I have a couple of different ones, so I’ll probably decide the day of.”

That interest in modern Halloween, specifically how you celebrate Halloween, is why you’re not really all that surprised when you hear him call your name from the other side of the bathroom door while you’re taking a shower.

“In here, my love!” You just barely have to raise your voice, knowing that he’ll still hear you above the sound of water raining down. The bathroom door opens, and you stick your head out of the shower curtain. You very happily accept the kiss that he offers you. “Hi.”

“Hello.” His voice, deep and as smooth as dark chocolate, rumbles through your ears in a way that you’ll never tire of. It’s impossible to resist giving him one more kiss (can you be blamed?), so you give in to the temptation.

“Give me five minutes and then I’ll be done, okay?”

Though it’s very reluctant, he does part from you. It takes you a little less than that to finish with your shower, and you open the door again so that you can at least be in the same space as Morpheus while you hurriedly put some makeup on (thankfully your costume doesn’t require anything drastic beyond what you normally wear). He’s sitting patiently on your bed, eyes already trained on you as you move through your getting-ready routine.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “You almost never visit me in the Waking.”

You’re teasing him, since, as previously mentioned, you know exactly why he’s here. Naturally, Morpheus doesn’t catch on. “I wished to see you off before your Hallowe’en celebration.”

“That’s sweet of you!” To the bedroom you go, where your costume sits waiting atop your dresser. “I’m just about ready to go, I only need to finish putting my costume on.”

Morpheus’s face grows flushed at the easy compliment you give him (you don’t think he’s ever been called ‘sweet’) and you laugh quietly before disappearing back through the bathroom with costume in tow.

A couple of months ago, two of your friends decided that being the Powerpuff Girls was the move for this Halloween and roped you into the idea. One of your friends, a natural blonde, claimed Bubbles before the idea could even fully be discussed. Your other friend was very excited to be a bearded Blossom and wear a giant bow on his head. This left Buttercup for you to dress up as, not that you were complaining.

Now, you’re sliding into a green crop top and a matching green skirt, this piece being made out of a shiny material. All three of your skirts are the same fabric (and definitely shorter than what’s considered decent), with the shirts being dealer’s choice. You finish your outfit off with black tights and a black headband—Bubbles is also wearing black tights, while Blossom will be sporting black knee-highs. All in all, it’s a pretty simple costume, but sometimes, that’s what the best costumes are.

You emerge from the bathroom once more and do a little twirl for Morpheus, whose eyes immediately light up. “This is very much a pop culture reference, so I’m not expecting you to understand the costume. Still, I think it turned out pretty good!”

Morpheus is not a man—the anthropomorphic personification of the collective unconscious, the Lord of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realm, simply chooses this as his favored form. Still, he is a man-shaped being, and like all man-shaped beings, he goes a little wild for the object of his affection in a short skirt.

“You will be wearing this in public?” he asks, standing up and approaching you.

Morpheus has lived for as long as beings have been able to dream. He quite literally lived through the Beginning when Adam and Eve didn’t know what clothes were, as well as a number of empires for whom clothing was merely a suggestion. The affront he’s showing at the clothes you’re wearing must be some sort of code for “this is my partner wearing something I consider sexy and I’m feeling possessive about other people seeing them.” That he looks at you as though you’re wearing the barest scraps of clothing and not dressing up as a cartoon superhero has you feeling mighty powerful.

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t turn you on a little bit.

“This is tame compared to what a lot of other people wear,” you inform him.

Morpheus does not look as though he’s listening. No, he’s focused on your body rather than your words. One hand rests on your waist to pull you closer to him, and the other hand comes to rest on your upper thigh where the skirt ends. He rubs the skirt between his thumb and index finger as though he’s testing the fabric.

“Am I correct in assuming that costumes are no longer worn to disguise the wearer from errant spirits?”

“Yes, you’re correct.” Right now though, explaining the traditions of Halloween is not important to you. You need some validation, and stat. “But do you like it?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Thank you,” you say smugly, smacking his hand as he tries to slip it higher under your skirt. “Not tonight. I have to meet up with the gang soon!”

“Might I make a suggestion?”

You nod. No matter how outlandish the suggestion, you’d listen to him make it, and you’d probably take it into strong consideration.

Morpheus places a delicate kiss on your jaw before he trails his lips to your ear. “Forget about your friends and stay with me for the evening,” he whispers seductively.

Oh, but that is tempting. You can already imagine the way in which Morpheus would remove your costume, the feeling of his hands on your body as he makes you forget about anything outside of you and him and the pleasure you bring each other. From the darkened look he gives you, he’s already picked up on these daydreams, and he’s in total agreement of that order of events.

Unfortunately, your brain, that traitorous organ, reminds you of why you shouldn’t be absconding to the Dreaming with your lover.

You sigh in frustration at the logic and lean your forehead against his. “I would, but I’ve had these plans for a couple of weeks now, and I really am looking forward to them.”

Though it very obviously pains Morpheus to say it, he does agree. “Yes, I suppose it would be…rude to abandon them.”

“I should probably go,” you say begrudgingly, pulling away from him and focusing intently on gathering what you’ll need so that you don’t give in to your desire.

Morpheus watches as you whirl around the room, muttering the name of each item as you grab them. Your phone is annoyingly elusive, and you think you’ll just have to go without it until it’s dangled in front of you by your Dreamlord. Gratefully, you take it from him.

“Thank you,” you say sheepishly. That’s the last of your belongings, but you feel like you can stall just a bit longer. He’s heard about your plans, but you haven’t heard of his. “What will you do while I’m gone?”

“Wait for you to return to my embrace once more,” he teases.

“Please try to do something instead of moping the whole time.”

“I do not mope!”

You give him a look, one that says you see right through this charade. “Yes. You do. I’m sure there’s a new book you’ll want to read. Maybe ask Lucienne what she’s been working on, or start creating a new nightmare?”

“Are you not going to be late?” Morpheus deflects. It makes you laugh, but he is right, so you do a once-over of your room to make sure you’re not missing anything and kiss him briefly.

“Bye. I love you.”

“I love you as well, my starlight. You remember how to call for me should you run into trouble?” Of course you do: write down his name and speak it. It’s cute of him to act like he won’t try to have Matthew follow you, though.

You can’t help but smile at the sweet gesture. “Yes, I remember. I’ll be fine, okay?”

He nods, satisfied. “I shall see you later, then.”

You’re able to sneak in one more kiss before he’s off and you’re heading to your front door, already counting down the hours until your night of partying is over. Who knew dressing up like a Powerpuff Girl could get someone so hot and heavy?

If Morpheus thinks that’s attractive, just wait until he sees the angel costume you’re wearing tomorrow.

#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus imagine #dream of the endless imagine #the sandman

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sweetdreamsofgelato · 1 year

Text

Intrusive Thoughts

(gif from google)

Pairing: Henry x Reader (You)

Summary: Henry's feeling self-critical. Hurt/Comfort; fluff with mildly spicy undertones; see author's note below

Rating: T/M just to be safe

Word Count: 1378

Warnings/Content: RPF; mild references to body image issues/body dysmorphia

A/N:

I saw this post earlier reblogged by @itsrubberbisquit and this is me giving Henry an internet hug 🥺

It's barely edited. I'm quite literally yeeting this into the hellscape and running.

Unbeta-ed. All mistakes are my own.

Reposting my works on any other sites or platforms is strictly prohibited (my official AO3 is linked in my master list). Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

“Henry! What’s going on? I keep hearing thumping.”

You swung the bedroom door wide to find Henry standing in front of the wall-to-wall wardrobes, the once neatly organised contents of which were haphazardly spilt forth across every surface. A soft, woollen jumper dangling from a lone hanger fell onto a pile beneath it. You caught Henry’s eye in the full-length mirror as he let out a low, frustrated growl and ripped his shirt over his head.

“What in the world happened in here?”

“I’ve nothing to wear. Everything looks awful.” He threw the crumpled shirt in his hands across the room.

“Ah, I beg to differ…” you replied, your eyes scanning the debris and then him. “On both accounts.”

“Nothing fits!” Hurt underscored the annoyance in his tone. “I’m spilling over my trousers and everything makes me look…lumpy.” His fingers pinched at the perfectly normal amount of flesh above his waistband.

His struggle, whilst not new, was clear and your heart ached for him. Was his body as chiselled as it appeared on screen? No, but that’s because he was sufficiently fed and hydrated as he ought to be.

The unhealthy lengths actors went to for what passed as on-screen perfection were no secret and a constant point of contention. The industry only fed his insecurities, and you always butted heads over his insistence to adhere to the ridiculous standards for the sake of remaining competitive. The extremity of the comments and practices made you worry about the toll on his mental and physical health. It was terrible and you had a mind to find every person who was rude or unnecessarily critical of his appearance and give them a proper verbal thrashing.

Instead, you sighed and walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his torso. You pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades before resting your cheek against the warm expanse of his back and murmured, “You’re absolutely gorgeous, Henry.”

Henry let out a disbelieving grunt. “I’ve taken too much time off at the gym. I need to get back to the grind.” He squeezed your hands as he manoeuvred out of your embrace. “Also, have you seen the state of these wrinkles?” He leaned in and inspected his face in the mirror. “I need to do something about them. Perhaps some new skincare. Maybe do something with my hair too. Too many greys…” he muttered to himself as he toed through piles of clothes until he found a pair of joggers and quickly changed. He snapped the waistband and grimaced.

You took a steadying breath and quelled the rage that welled in your chest. It wasn’t directed at Henry; it was reserved for every twat who ever made him feel unworthy in any way.

“Sit,” you said, rather more firmly than you intended.

“Sorry?” he asked, confused.

“Sit.” You pushed the clothes off the edge of the bed and patted the downy duvet. “Please.”

Henry gave you a curious look as he pulled a hoodie over his head and shuffled to the end of the bed. You promptly stood between his knees, pointed to his lap and asked, “May I sit?”

He smirked. “I’ll be sorely disappointed if you don’t.”

Rather than letting him cradle you into his arms, you planted one knee on either side of his hips and straddled his lap. His sharp inhale signalled his surprise, but the sly wing of his eyebrow indicated he was not disappointed and was—you hoped—sufficiently distracted as well.

“Well, this is unexpected,” he murmured as his hands slowly ran the length between your knees and hips. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your bottom.

You squirmed. Henry made an approving noise in this throat and your brain fought your baser urges for domain. You wrapped your arms around his neck and settled into a comfortable position. “Calm down, Cavill.”

Henry groaned into your ear. “You’re not making it easy.”

“Good.” You ground down on his lap for good measure. “That’s payback for the cheeky arse-grab.” He shamelessly groped you again and you laughed. “Stop. I have something to say and you’re going to listen.”

“I do appreciate when you take charge.” His lust-darkened eyes flicked to your lips and his tongue darted out to moisten his own. “Is it something sexy?”

“Henry…” you warned, mostly because if he kept looking at you like that, your mind would cease functioning altogether.

“Ok, fine.” Henry’s hands gently rested on your hips. “I’ll be good…for now.”

You dropped a quick kiss on the tip of his nose and speared your fingers through his hair. Henry always let it grow out when on a break and toying with the soft curls was a favourite pastime. He hummed contentedly, his head dropping back as his eyes fluttered shut.

“I love your hair,” you said, “and every grey one is a uniquely special thread of wisdom marking the passage of time.”

He didn’t open his eyes, but they crinkled at the edges with humour. “How poetic.”

You scrunched your nose and gently tugged on an errant curl. “Shush. I’m trying to flatter you.”

He suppressed a smile and pulled you in closer. “Do continue.”

“And these,” your fingertips traced the delicate creases across his forehead and around the corners of his eyes and mouth, “are a record of all your happy memories, imprinted each time you laugh wholeheartedly and your smile reaches your eyes.”

Henry awkwardly cleared his throat and sounded somewhat embarrassed to be under your scrutiny. “You’re making me blush.”

He wasn’t lying. You smiled smugly at the tinges of pink dusting his cheekbones.

“Good.”

You kneaded his tense shoulders and followed down the hard lines of his biceps until his muscles relaxed. Your hands snaked under his hoodie and you indulged in a bit of tender groping of your own. The colour in his cheeks deepened. His throat bobbed and his lips parted, and it took every ounce of your will not to nip at them with your teeth.

“When I look at you, I see the strength of will and your determination, but also the softness of finding simple pleasures that life would be meaningless without.”

He flinched when you smoothed over the supple sides of his abdomen. “I’m pretty sure that’s last Sunday’s roast.”

“Which was utterly delicious,” you answered without hesitation, placing a kiss on the side of his neck. “You spent all day preparing that magnificent feast and deserved to enjoy every bite.”

“I did, but—”

“No buts, and I’m not done admiring.”

He tsked. “You’re bossy.”

“And you love it.”

“You may be right,” he grumbled.

You extracted your hands and brought them to cradle his face, tracing a thumb over his bottom lip and across his sharp jawline. Henry’s gaze finally met yours. Behind the fiery want, you knew he battled with his demons and you wanted nothing more than to help him vanquish them.

Your forehead rested against his as your hand drifted down and stopped in the centre of his chest. “But the best bit is that none of that really matters because the most beautiful thing about you is right here. No matter what you look like, you’ve got a heart that loves fiercely and endlessly, and I’m thankful every day that it loves me.”

“Jesus…” Henry’s voice wobbled under a sudden rush of emotion. He yanked you against his chest, nestled his face into the curve of your neck and breathed deeply.

A protracted silence settled as you held him, gently stroking the base of his neck as he processed. When he finally looked up, he was blinking back the moisture that threatened to spill over. He brought your hands to his lips and gingerly kissed your palms. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“You don’t need to do or be anything to deserve love, Henry. You are, just as you are, and I can't help but love you.”

Henry dragged your lips to his and kissed you so long and hard that you risked becoming a barely sentient puddle. He released your mouth with a gasp, his voice ragged as he asked, “Do I have permission to grab your arse now?”

“Oh, yes,” you laughed, pulling his mouth back to yours. “Please do.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry x you #henry cavill rpf #rpf #sweetdreamsofgelato writes #fic: intrusive thoughts

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angrybathbomb · 3 days

Text

TOUCHSTARVED FANFIC

“Are you two a couple?”

MODERN AU

Touchstarved LI x gn! Reader

SUMMARY: On a coffee date with each ts LIs, both of you are stopped by what one can assume a street interviewer/youtuber who seems to be quite eager on talking to couples. What do our lovely LIs have to say?

WARNINGS: None tbh, fluff, slightly suggestive joke cracked once but it’s just implied and said as a joke/banter nothing explicit, Ais calls you sparrow and says one of his signature line he said in the demo (will be in italics).

NOTE: This is my first time writing a fanfic, please go easy on me if I made some mistakes as I am still learning. Constructive criticism and tips to improve are very much appreciated. Thank you for reading!

(also y/n == your name)

INSPO: I saw a YouTube channel (meetcutenyc) and felt like writing this for our lovely ts LIs!

WORD COUNT: <1.5K

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-PROLOGUE-

Strolling leisurely down the bustling streets for a cozy, romantic coffee date, fingers entwined, greedily savored each other’s warmth. Each step the two of you took, resonated with a rhythm on the footpath that stretched ahead in the bustling cityscape. Amidst the bustling chaos of the city, snippets of conversations floating around and the distant hum of traffic, a comfortable silence stretched between the two of you with occasional exchange of shy yet mischievous glances and tender smiles.

However, the romantic stroll came to an abrupt halt when a young guy holding a camera, most likely recording, blocked the path ahead of you two.

“Sorry to interrupt, but are you two a couple?”, he inquired with a friendly smile. His eyes, subtly reflecting guilt, silently apologized for the sudden intrusion.

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AIS

LEANDER

VERE

MHIN

KURAS

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AIS

Ais regards the guy with a cold look as he answers his question with a terse nod as he pulls you closer to him, his hand wrapping around your waist protectively which was interwoven with your fingers so lovingly just a moment prior to this, a stark contrast to the possessive hold he has now.

“Do you need something?”, he adds with a callous tone, his impatience evident. “We have somewhere to be,” he finishes as he guides you behind him, shielding you from the camera.

Sensing his defensive demeanor, princess begins to growl at the stranger. Her instincts kick in, mirroring Ais’s protective stance towards you.

The stranger, noticing the tension in the air, quickly raises one hand above his head in a gesture of surrender. He begins, “I just wanted to ask,” his tone sincere,” Would you mind sharing the story of how you two first met?”, his voice carries a curious yet respectful tone.

Ais, sensing no immediate threat, whistles lowly, a familiar command for Princess to calm down. Obedient to his command, she relents, but remains watchful as she settles between the two of you.

Ais exchanges a brief glance with you, you nod slightly signaling your willingness to share a part of your history with him. He smiles softly as he turns his gaze to the stranger,” It’s a long story,” his tone softening ever so slightly, “But I suppose we have a moment.”

The stranger beams with delight,” And I have all the time in the world!”, he reassures, grateful to have a story to share with his viewers.

You laugh quietly touched by such an innocent remark and quite frankly amazed at how eager he appears. A surge of shyness envelops you as memories of your first encounter with Ais floods your mind.

“You want my version or his?” you ask, offering the stranger a friendly smile as you lean into Ais’s warmth, he squeezes your hips in response, his hold on you not budging one bit.

“Both of yours!”, the stranger chirps up with childlike glee. A teasing smile plays on Ais’s lips, “How about you go first, hm Sparrow?”

“How kind of you,” you roll your eyes, all too aware of the mirth swimming in his crimson gaze. You shift your attention towards the stranger, your eyes alight with memories as you begin recounting the story, “I was wandering down the aisles of what used to be a Public Library, known as ‘The Senobium’, quite renowned for its vast collection of books, holding knowledge on the most bizarre subject imaginable. If any place held answers, it was the Senobium.” You continue your ramble as Ais listens patiently, silently admiring you, a fond smile adorning his sharp features.

“I was specifically looking and gathering books to research about this conspiracy theory floating around the internet that had caught my attention – The Groupminds”, you continue painting a vivid imagery of the fateful day to the eagerly listening stranger ,”Amidst the pile of books I had in my hand, more than I could possibly handle, my line of vision was blocked and I was trudging ahead, one step at a time, until I collided with this gentleman over here,” you gesture towards Ais , impishness painted all over your face.

“It felt straight out of a classical romantic movie,” you recall with a bashful smile as your gaze meets Ais’s, who responds with a playful wink and a fanged grin. “The next instant, all the books slip from my grasp, and I am stumbling backwards, teetering on the brink of hitting the cold hard floor. That is until, a warm hand catches my lower back and guides me back up to my feet effortlessly, as if I weighed nothing,”

“As I recover from the shock, I shift my gaze to take a better look at my saviour,” you pause, studying Ais for a moment before continuing,” there he stands before me, radiating an air of self-assuredness.” Your lips curve into a wry smile, “I say my thanks, anticipating a courteous ‘you’re welcome’ but instead, this bastard has the gall to quip back, ‘Watch your step, Sparrow,’ his words dripping with smug satisfaction, as though reveling in my plight.”

You pout playfully,” Thanks to his good looks, I let it slide. My hands were itching to leave a red imprint on that stupid handsome face,” you confess, your cheeks flush a deep red. Ais, not missing a beat, retorts with a smirk,” But you just did last night,” he teased with a suggestive glance, a coy smile dancing on his lips.

“Have some shame,” you roll your eyes, swatting his chest playfully. “What's that?”, he feigns oblivion, secretly relishing the sight of your embarrassment.

The stranger smiles at the shared mischief between them before turning to Ais, “What about you Sir? What’s your version of the story?”, curiosity evident in his tone.

Ais considers you for a moment, fondness evident in his scarlet orbs, before he addresses the stranger,” Let’s just say their version conveniently leaves out the part where they nearly caused a book avalanche in the middle of the library.”

You merely roll your eyes at his playful jab,” Perhaps you could have watched your step and not get in my way,” you fix him with an accusatory look,” All of it seemed as if it was planned all along.”

“Took you long enough to figure out,” responds Ais with a devilish smirk.

The stranger chuckles in amusement at the light-hearted banter between the two lovebirds before he interjects with his next question,” Could you two share your first impressions of each other?”

“First impression, huh?”, you paused for a moment, adopting a deadpan expression, before replying, “Bastard.” Your blunt response elicits a roar of laughter from both men.

“You wound me Sparrow,” Ais remarks, his six- foot frame shook with mirth. Before he answers for himself, he grins and teases,” Ah yes, I remember thinking, ‘Is this sparrow lost, or did the sky misplace its most charming songbird?’ Thankfully, they landed right here.”

“That’s the biggest load of nonsense I’ve ever heard,” you retort with an unimpressed look, eyebrows raised in mock indignation. Ais leans in to press a firm kiss to your forehead, unfazed by your tough facade.

“Mouth off all you want, I happen to like your shitty attitude,” he says affectionately while you remain stoic to appear indifferent to his tender gaze, but the telltale blush creeping onto your cheeks gives you away.

“Any tips you would like to give to a new couple?”, the stranger poses his final question.

Ais smiles sincerely, his gaze thoughtful as he offers his advice,” Be honest and real. The right person will love you for who you really are,” he says as a matter of fact, looking at you for a moment.

You nod in agreement before adding your own perspective,” If you have to pretend to be someone else, even with your lover, well, how long can that last?” you continue with an earnest expression,” If you and your partner cannot accept each other’s worst, you have no right to enjoy each other’s best either. Putting up an act doesn’t work in the long run.” you finish, a kind smile gracing your lips.

“Thank you so much! You make such a lovely couple,” the stranger remarks warmly before asking, “May I ask your names?’

“(y/n)”, you introduce yourself with a warm smile. “Ais”, he follows suit.

“(y/n) and Ais,” the stranger repeats the names, the syllables harmonizing so well, their love seems destined.

“Thank you for your time! Good day!”, the stranger expresses his gratitude as they prepare to part ways.

“No worries, it was lovely talking to you.”, you respond with a sweet smile, eyes reflecting genuine warmth. Ais offers a nonchalant wave as a farewell, but the content smile etched on his face betrays his enjoyment of the conversation.

Together with Princess, both of you set off on your way to your long-awaited coffee date, the air around both of you filled with sweet anticipation.

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End note: Tell me about your thoughts in the comments! I will be writing for other LIs soon! Thank you for reading my work 😊

#touchstarved fanfic #touchstarved imagines #ts ais #ais x reader #touchstarved ais #ais x mc #touchstarved game #red spring studios #ais touchstarved

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