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fleshdyke · 3 days

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I saw a deer rotting away on the side of the road, ribcage gaping open, sternum shattered, sagging leathery skin shedding coarse hair as decomposition sets in. Eyes and entrails long since pecked out by crows and vultures, the doe lay blind and empty, her cranium chewed open and cleaned out by reverent coyotes. Crawling with maggots and worms, she writhes.

Wildflowers bloomed tall around her, cushioning her corpse in a bed of milkweed and aster, wild lily and strawberry bursting through her drying skin and out through the cavernous hole in her body. Wasps and horseflies drink the nectar flavoured by her body, dripping sweet onto her ribcage.

A violent death unto peaceful sleep, bones crushed like brittle eggshell by steel alloy, whiplash and internal hemorrhaging as she stumbles forward and collapses into the cold ditch by the asphalt, gasping and twitching as her lungs filled with blood, shards of her ribcage puncturing her lungs, struggling to take a full breath as spots grew larger in her vision. Twin headlights barreled on, uninterrupted and uncaring as she lay dying in the ditch, the taillights of the departing vehicle bathing her in red light as it leaves. There are no other cars in the road.

Scavengers bowed their heads to her memory as they filled their stomachs with her body, gorging themselves on cold offal, worshipful as they licked congealed blood off the ground. A necessary sacrifice to the good of the many; her agony sustains them. They don't know anything else. She sleeps, quiet and alone, in the ditch by the road, as she decomposes. Her eyes, plucked from their sockets by hungry birds to be fed to their hungry chicks, no longer saw; she slept in peaceful darkness.

I wondered what she dreamed about. I wondered if she could still see, in her mind's eye, the life she dreamed of. I wondered if all she could see anymore was the wriggling of maggots in her skull.

I wondered if the deer on the side of the road left behind a herd, maybe a fawn, waiting patiently, nestled in tall grasses, for its mother to return. I wondered if it, too, had fallen prey to the great metal maw of a passing vehicle as it, hungry and cold, searched for its mother. I hoped not, but I know better; deer don't often practice crèches.

I felt kinship with her, in a way, a deer left for dead next to the country highway, carved out empty and left gaping. I saw myself in her in the way she died alone, ignored, rotting from the inside out as cars passed by, the way she was vulnerable, defenseless; she had no way to defend herself against her fate. The scales were tipped against her, the battle lost as soon as she took her first step onto cracked asphalt, doomed beyond her own comprehension and her killer's capacity to care. She had no antlers to defend herself. She didn't stand a chance.

A faceless figure in a nondescript truck, anonymous in the atrocity of death, with no witnesses and no guilt for what they had done. Perhaps I'd already passed them on the street. Perhaps I'd already wished them a good morning. Perhaps I'd done the same with others.

It was almost comforting, in a way, to see such a visceral and grotesque representation of myself, flayed open snd hollowed out and left to rot. It reminded me there were others like me, even if they were roadkilled deer. In the aftermath of catastrophe, I, too, lay broken and gasping, immobile as I watched the world pass me by, no one stopping to notice my agony. I supposed it wasn't quite as obvious as that of a deer, trembling and bleeding from the mouth, branded hot in the shape of a car's front grill. It was confusing, still. It certainly felt more than obvious.

I dreamed of coyote teeth tearing me apart, pulling out my organs as I watched, passive, of vultures picking at my skin, grunting in veneration as they ate me to the bone. I dreamed of crows eating the scraps left behind, pecking at my face and mouth, pulling out my eyes and tongue, rendering me blind and mute. I didn't mind; I hardly had use for them anyways. I dreamed of dandelion blooms crowding my airways, airborne seeds filling my lungs until I choked, and growing from my body again.

I dreamed of love, of prostration and black birds bowed in supplication, owing me their lives, surviving at the price of mine. I dreamed of love, of sickly sweet devotion, like the smell of decay. I dreamed of love, of poisonous butterflies drinking down the nectar of my body's wildflowers, of dangerous beauty. In my dream, I watched the jays snap up those sweet butterflies, bright wings crunching and shredding within the predator's beak, only for the eaten nymph to reappear as its bitter poison burns the jay's oesophagus, vomiting up the offensive prey. The butterfly is not saved. The butterfly is still dead, half-digested and broken in a small puddle of the bird's mucous, but the jay learns; the butterfly's death prevents others.

I dreamed of love, like the coyote and the badger that found my corpse one night, forty million years of evolution between the two, but perfect teamwork nonetheless. The two arrived together and left together after they'd had their fill of my lungs and heart. I wished them well on their journey and waited for the next scavenger to find me.

I hoped the deer on the side of the road found the same peace in death as I had. I hoped she found her closure in the scavengers who worshipped her. I hoped the faceless figure in that nondescript truck faced their retribution and I hoped the faceless figure in my hazy memories faced the Old Testament judgement I so wished.

As I accepted the deer into myself, let the shape of her rotting body brand itself on my mind (reminiscent, almost, of the brand of a car's front grill on her flank), I felt her dreams assimilate with my own. I felt, suddenly, the desire to walk along country highways in the dark, the desire to know what waits on the other side of the road, the desperation so strong that I couldn't stand to wait for the rumbling beast to pass. I felt the awe of staring into blinding light, larger than me and near incomprehensible. I understood why deer stopped in the middle of the road. I'm sure anyone else would, too. The first contact of the car's front grill to her (my) body felt something like love, like the embrace of the only one who could stand to have me.

I thought about the crows that picked off the smaller pieces of flesh missed by the larger scavengers. I thought about the sweet adoration between two black birds as they passed my eyeball to their mate, the pure devotion between them as they preened one another, beaks coated in congealed blood. Their love is a living thing, a separate entity, powerful and writhing. It occupies the crows entirely, not unlike parasitism. Their chicks will grow from my scavenged flesh, insatiable, fledging for the first time above my drying skeleton. To fly had always been a dream of mine, and now it is actualized by those young black birds, fulfilled as they hop unsteadily from branch to branch, their parents watching over them protectively. How lucky I am to witness this. How lucky I am to learn, firsthand, the depth of that love, the endlessness of life, how it begins again, and again, and again.

#this is one of my favourite things ive ever written tbh.#made it for an english assignment. sarah if youre checking for plagiarism and it matches with this. this is my account you can ask me if you #want to. love u sarah.#anyways. hi everyone #rambles #my art #ask to tag

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cinnbar-bun · 3 months

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Affinity (Various OP Characters x Reader)

Characters: Brook, Buggy, Beckman, Crocodile, Zoro, Mihawk, Corazon, Shanks, Law

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~4k

A/n: Reader is GN! I kinda made this after hearing about a special thing in my religion, and decided I wanted to do this. I of course made it more romantic in nature than the original idea goes, but hey, romance! I had my followers choose 7 originally but it went to 9, which is a very lucky number in my religion so maybe it was a sign? Who knows! Please enjoy <3

Tagging: @fanaticsnail @gingernut1314 @undeadeurydice @i-am-vita @kiribuchi @therosietoesy (sorry, I forgot who asked for Law my bad)

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There is a belief that before you are born, you were once a soul that had existed with other souls. Souls who had an affinity for each other would find that affinity carried in their time as a human. Souls who repelled each other would find that distaste carried over as well. Perhaps it was preordained, fate, destiny- whatever you’d call it. Regardless, it seems your soul has met with someone who once had an affinity for you…

Brook

Being an undead figure unable to pass on was not what Brook had in mind. In some ways, he was grateful for another chance at life, another chance to do what he previously was too dead to finish. Albeit, being a pile of bones did have its drawbacks.

While he could still function and do things many humans did, fact was, he was anything but. One look at him would easily make him stand out as something like a freak of nature.

Skeletons cannot love and be loved like a human. He could hold, but could not be held like a human. Admittedly, it had bothered him on occasion, but he always tried to brush it off with a simple hum or shrug. After all, he had his friends and crewmates- and he had a promise to continue fighting for. That should be enough.

But he couldn’t stop his eyes (if he had any) from wandering… couldn’t stop the way his mind wondered…

Just what could it be like if I too could fall in love?

Ah, but that’s such a silly thing for a skeleton to consider. Who could ever love the undead remains of someone long forgotten?

He’d practically given up on such silly notions like love or a relationship- it didn’t fit his current predicament.

So Brook focused on his music and his performances instead. He held up his violin and decided to waste some time on this sunny day playing for his audience of a few blue birds chirping at this green park. It was beautiful and reminded him of his day with the Rumbar Pirates- agh, nostalgia was always his weakest attribute, he thinks.

His fingers drift along the strings of the instrument, peacefully playing his weary heart away. He doesn’t recognize he has another guest until he hears slow clapping.

“What?” He turns his head, surprised to see you on the bench, smiling and clapping.

“That was lovely,” you comment. Time slows still and your eyes meet, shining (e/c) eyes with hollow black sockets.

If he had skin, perhaps he would’ve been red or sweating buckets. As a skeleton, he was not able to do things. But Brook was still a man through and through, and he couldn’t help but freeze at seeing the way your eyes were soft and full of admiration.

“I’m glad you thought so. Music is my pride and joy.”

“I can tell,” you reply. “I felt like I forgot to breathe for a moment when I heard that. I’m sorry for watching, though, if you weren’t looking for an audience.”

“N-no, actually it was…” he was too caught up in the way his soul was resonating and burning within him. “I appreciate it actually. Would you like me to play a song for you?”

“Would you? I’d love to hear more!”

Buggy

Buggy never believed in things like soulmates or fairy tales or blah blah blah- it was all junk! The only thing he ever could trust was treasure- shiny, bright, treasure! What else did a pirate need or want?

Is what he would say out loud- Buggy, even at a young age, was secretly a romantic who refused to let himself be swept up in the sentiment. When him and Shanks would sail together on Roger’s ship, Shanks would often ask what he thought about love.

Unlike Buggy, Shanks was pretty honest and confident about his assertions. Buggy would stumble and try to keep the bravado up, pretending as if he didn’t secretly yearn for a person who could look past his red nose and maybe possibly sorta kinda like him? Was that too much to ask? If you were Buggy, the answer was yes, because he would never allow himself the chance to be soft or vulnerable with someone. Especially not when he was already so sensitive about his looks and attitude. The thought of letting his guard down to be loved terrified him- what if they left? What if they made fun of him, too?

It was just too much for his fragile ego, so he brushed it aside and continued his hunt for treasure.

“Now where the hell am I?” He yelled, tilting the map in his hand left and right, as if that would somehow make his destination clearer. “Kinda crappy treasure map is this?”

He glared and shoved the map back in his pocket as he stomped around this town. He hadn’t ever bothered to come to this place before, so everything was new for him. He glared at the kids who were pointing at his nose to scare them off (mission accomplished), but his foul attitude still didn’t lessen.

As Buggy turned a corner, he accidentally rammed into someone. They shrieked, and his hat fell off his face and covered his eyes.

“Watch it, will ya? I’m walkin’ he…” he pushed his hat back up and came face to face with perhaps the most gorgeous person he’s ever met. His mouth was wide open, gawking at you as you gave an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you there,” you said sheepishly.

“Y-yeah it’s… it’s cool. No biggie,” he mumbled in a daze.

“Are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he returned to normal. “I mean, yeah, totally.”

You chuckle at his behavior, and something within Buggy’s chest makes it feel like there’s a million butterflies flapping inside his ribcage. He can’t help the dumb grin on his face as he laughs along.

“Sorry again, sir. I’ll keep an eye out for you next time,” you wink and begin walking away, making Buggy flabbergasted. N-next time? Was that a promise? He didn’t even realize what he was thinking before he turned around and tried to jog back to you.

“H-hey, wait up-!”

Beckman

Beckman was fairly ambivalent to the idea of a “soulmate” or “affinity”. Sure, he humored his often childish captain with those notions, but the fact was, Beckman was simply a sailor at heart. He didn’t think being “stuck” to someone was the life he wanted, and he was fairly sure a sane, rational person would not want to be the lover of a first mate to perhaps one of the most infamous pirate crews on the sea.

Now, this would imply you were sane and rational, and this would also imply that he was also not a sucker for you. Perhaps that was what made him attracted to you in the first place, or maybe it was something that gave him the idea that his captain wasn’t so off base.

When it came to you, Beckman was eager, a bit too eager, the others would joke. Whenever you called, he came running and answering like a loyal servant. Whenever you wrote, his lips would form a large smile while he refused to let the others look at the letter you sent. Whenever he was away from you for long periods of time, he drank a bit too much.

It was common place enough for the others to notice and tease him about, even if Beckman was adamant there was nothing there. You guys were just… friends, or something ambiguous like that. You didn’t need a label for your relationship. This was completely normal, you were normal, he was normal- nothing was out of the ordinary, so if they would please stop asking and make him confront those pesky feelings he-

Maybe he had a problem. He never felt this way for anyone else he encountered. You knew of his philandering, not seeming to care all that much, but damn it, even he couldn’t continue that streak because his mind would get occupied with you, you, you. Love was too complicated. Maybe this was the alcohol talking. Or Shanks getting in his head about “souls being attuned” or whatever spiritual jazz the red-haired captain would spout.

No, it really made sense, all things considered. There was no one else but you to make him quit fooling around with others on the islands he stopped at. There was no one else but you who invaded his thoughts, who plagued him day and night with those eyes, that smile, the way you hated that red cologne he once bought and-

Oh dear god, he was deep into this, wasn’t he?

Crocodile

Love? Spirits? Souls? Soulmates?

Yeah right, add that to the list of stupid things weak poets say to make their miserable lives have some meaning. You could jump through a million hoops to try and blame encounters and relationships on things like “destiny” or “fate”. To a man like Crocodile, however, “destiny” was just something he could control. Whether through bribes of money or through making them submit with his fearsome powers, “destiny” was nothing but another means of his affluence.

Only those who were weak and had nothing could not control their lives.

Something like love was a crutch used by those who had nothing to pretend they did. What was love to power? What was love to wealth? To fame? To greatness?

Love was the longest-running scam that Crocodile almost could be impressed with, if not for the fact that the sentiment around love made him want to gag.

Except, now he was actively looking for jewelry to buy you, flowers to deliver to your doorstep, and outfits to clothe you in for when you visited him.

It was almost disgusting how Crocodile was eagerly awaiting for your next arrival, for when he could be able to see you on the street or at his casino so he could see that face he adored so much. Those eyes that made him want to melt, that voice that echoed in his head, that smile that made him want to have an image of you adorned on his wall so he could always see it.

Something, he could never place what it was, drew him to you. Something made you seem to stand out to him in ways that no other could. He was Crocodile- world famous business man and pirate- he had no shortage of people throwing themselves at him or fearing him. Only to you was he trying his luck attempting to woo you to give him that look he loved. Only for you was he making excuse after excuse to continue seeing you, lying over and over that he had a reason to use you, that it was just a part of some master plan.

He exhaled another puff of his cigar and rubbed his temples.

Gods, why was he acting this way? He was Crocodile. Not a lovesick teenage boy, not some lonely man, not some simpering-

“Sir, (Y/n) has arrived.” His ears perked up as he quickly slicked back his hair.

“Is that so? Send them up,” he orders, grabbing his expensive cologne to spray onto him again.

Zoro

Zoro had never heard of the idea of soulmates or anything like that. When one lives, breathes, and dies by the sword, something like “soulmates” is just comical. He doesn’t need love to become the best swordsman. He didn’t need love to teach him how to pick up a sword and kill another with it. That was, in fact, the complete opposite of love.

Survival of the fittest, he thought. Nothing more, nothing less. You kill for bounties, bounties that pay, pay that gives you a chance to eat food. Nothing more to it. He never did more than he needed to, never worked harder for anything outside of his sword training and hunting. What else did a swordsman need to live?

He was currently drinking his fill at a local tavern of some random village he washed out upon. He didn’t care to get names, not when he was always moving, always killing, always leaving. “Zoro” was a passing chance encounter few got to ever meet or understand. He was fine with that. A bounty hunter didn’t need attachments. A bounty hunter definitely didn’t need someone weighing him down.

At the tavern, a few rowdy pirates were acting up. Yelling obscenities, throwing food and liquor at one another, making rude gestures- nothing out of the ordinary for drunk pirates. Zoro had no business with them, so he ignored them, continuing to order pint after pint.

It wasn’t until he heard a crash that he looked up. You were angrily yelling at one of the pirates who threw a drink at you, and his mates were drawing their weapons. It was clear you were outnumbered, so you looked around the bar for anyone that would help.

Normally, Zoro wouldn’t bother, figuring you dug your own grave by messing with pirates like that. However, when he glanced to your eyes, he found himself… staring. Lost. Entranced?

He didn’t know why he felt like he should protect you, but he always had a good intuition when it came to these sorts of things. He sighed, placed his mug down, then stood up, drawing his swords from their sheathes.

“Zoro,” he stated. A rare thing for him to admit so casually to a normal person. The pirates heard his name and shriveled up in fear. Zoro didn’t pay them any mind, instead tapping his sword against his shoulder impatiently. “Need me to shut these guys up?”

Mihawk

If you had asked a young Mihawk about love, he would have most certainly called you a fool for daring to think of such illogical things instead of focusing on one’s own strength and potential. While he had heard of the sentiments about love and soulmates before, he didn’t place much value into it. Love was a distraction from the training he could have done. Love was a waste of time. Love was just for weak-minded people who let themselves be vulnerable or gentle with another. Love wasn’t for people like him.

Which was why he was now trying to instill the opposite into his foolhardy protege, Zoro. Yes, yes, unfortunately, Mihawk was proven wrong from his earlier ways of thinking, and ever since then, he’s been doing his best to be a good man for you.

“I didn’t think a guy like you would have a partner…” Zoro would mumble.

“Of course I would. Do I not look like a suitable husband?” Mihawk replied as he was sipping his wine. “A marriage is only an aspect of your training and power.”

“How does cooking dinner help you train?” Zoro raised a brow, not believing a word.

“If you cannot handle a routine for even the most mundane and domestic of tasks, you cannot expect to be disciplined enough to train. If you think something like making your love a cup of tea or folding laundry is too hard or not worthy enough, you are not worthy enough to hold a sword.”

Zoro nodded, impressed by Mihawk’s reasoning (or maybe impressed at how you somehow made the world’s greatest swordsman so whipped and happy to make you dinner).

“Well, when you put it like that,” Zoro scratched his cheek, looking back at his mentor to see him staring at you longingly from the window. You and Perona were outside picking some of the vegetables at the garden, an activity you insisted upon doing despite Mihawk’s protests. You and the young lady were joking and laughing about something Perona said, and Mihawk sighed.

“Something wrong?” Zoro asked, unsure what Mihawk was thinking with his stoic appearance.

“No, not at all,” Mihawk shook his head, taking another sip.

“Then why did you sigh like that?” Zoro questioned. A smirk grew on Mihawk’s lips as he chuckled, continuing to look at you. You… you who were so special, who had become the apple of his eye, his strength, his joy, his passion.

“Oh, you wouldn’t understand it right now, my student,” Mihawk closed his eyes. “Fate is… it’s simply a humorous thing.”

Corazon

He always was a sensitive soul, despite his outer appearance and harsh exterior. But even as a child, Law could tell something was up with Corazon.

“Why are you always looking at them?” Law grumpily asked, folding his arms and raising a brow at his benefactor.

“Hm? At who?” Corazon dumbly responded, cigarette in his lips.

“You know who I mean! Don’t act stupid!” Law shouted. Corazon chuckled and exhaled the smoke.

“Sorry, gotta be more specific.”

Of course, Corazon knew who Law was referring to. It wasn’t like Corazon had hidden his affection for you, but that was for another time. You were something special, something that Corazon yearned for but could never have. Not when Doflamingo’s influence was so large and looming over his life. But even if Corazon himself could not love you so freely, he always did like to tell the young boy stories. Of course, Law, being a jaded little boy, had never really given thought to such things like “soulmates” or “souls knowing each other”. That was stupid and impossible.

Corazon liked to believe, though. It comforted him. It made him feel happy that, hey, even if this life perhaps didn’t work out for him and you, at least he had known you before. At least he was able to see you again. At least he got you in his life for a moment, even if it would end in nothing but heartache and pain. At he least, for just a bit, he got to see that smile, those eyes, and feel your hands over his.

It made his life a little less hard, a little less dull. The romanticism that despite Doffy meddling in his life, Corazon still had a chance with you, was meant to know and be with you… well, that was plenty enough for him. It made him happier, too, knowing Law was perhaps a soul he was acquainted with before. It made him feel like he was always going to be guaranteed love and kindness with you and Law, even if the world was unkind to him.

Yes, this new family he had found was perhaps where he belonged the most. With you and Law by his side, there was nothing more he could ask for.

Shanks

“You’re obsessed.”

“Am not!” Shanks yelled childishly at Beckman, before turning back to face the island they were planning on docking at soon. The wide smile on his face made it clear he was beyond excited to be there, and the other men chuckled.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on running off to see em?” Yassop asked, knowing the answer.

“Oh, stop bugging about it! It’s just a little reunion with (Y/n), not anything crazy,” Shanks waved off. He breathed into his palm and winced at the smell of his breath. “Crap, does anyone have any mouthwash?”

“I don’t think anything can get that stench out. If they hadn’t run away cuz of your smell before, I think you’re good now!”

“Haha, very funny guys. Besides, it’s just between friends. Nothing weird.”

Of course, that was a bit of a fib, but who doesn’t tell little white lies? Surely he’d be forgiven for saying that by whomever was possibly in charge of making this happen?

Shanks, even with his overwhelming power and influence, did believe in superstition. It would be foolish not to, especially in such a dangerous world that a pirate inhabits. Sure, some of them were old wive’s tales from scared-straight sailors, but he did find them having some merit. He didn’t like to discount the seemingly impossible, not when it made even the most outlandish things possible.

He believed it was fate he got to meet Buggy and be a part of Roger’s crew. He believed it fate he met little Luffy in Foosha Village. He also believed it was fate he saved you that day. Some things just “made sense” like that to Shanks. It certainly made his life more interesting while also giving him a chance to bother you as always.

“Oh, come on, you can’t really kick out your soulmate, can you?” Shanks would tease.

“Soulmate?” You laugh. “Is this your attempt at proposing to me?”

“Hey, if you’d like it to be, I can absolutely make it happen,” Shanks replied, an earnest look in his eyes. You smile at him- crap, how do you always manage to make him ache and miss you? It’s gotta be fate, because no way could anyone have his heart in tight vice like this.

“Well… if you’re insisting, Captain,” you begin, smirking at him. “Why not take me with you? As your soulmate.”

Shanks’s eyes widened and the look on his face was a mixture of bewilderment and excitement.

“You know I can always make room for you,” he answered, trying to steady himself.

“Good. Although, we could share a room.”

“You drive a hard bargain, dear,” he chugs his rum. “Cheers to us!”

Law

Since he was a young boy, Law always tried to remain by himself. You couldn’t really trust anyone in a world of piracy and violence like that. Corazon, of course, always recommended otherwise. He even shared stories about a place where souls all were together.

It didn’t sound plausible or even remotely make sense. How would you even know if your soul was supposedly affiliated with someone?

It had been years since those days and the loss of Corazon, and even though he tried his hardest not to, Law still kept those stories in his mind. They were pointless and silly, but they were something Corazon believed wholeheartedly, even saying it was a miracle he got to meet a young Law. In some ways, Law felt somewhat similarly.

Love wasn’t for someone like Law. Too damaged, too cold, too logical, too afraid to ever let that feeling grow. It was how he stayed and remained for his life, and how he was planning on operating for the rest of time.

Until you, quite literally, crashed into him.

Jeez, you had to be a pest. Or a virus. Or a parasite. Something like that, but gosh, you were contagious. When you smiled, he found himself wanting to smile back. When you talked, he found himself thinking over every word you spoke in great detail. Maybe he was overthinking things, maybe when you said you were happy to have met him that was just you being friendly. Or something.

Almost always his mind drifted to you, feeling a certain way for you that he didn’t feel with the others in his crew or from the Straw Hats. You were different.

Perfect? Maybe. Definitely too good for someone like him, he’d think. But even with that self-loathing and apprehension, he found himself being drawn to you like a magnet.

Cora, if this is what you meant before…

Damn it, now he was letting things like soulmates and affinity cloud his judgment. He was a grown man, not a young boy, he didn’t need those silly delusions and ideas growing in his head and making him think he had a chance with you.

“Tora-o!” Luffy called. “Come here!!”

“No,” Law grumbled.

“Law,” you asked right after. “Do you mind helping me with this?”

“...yes,” he replied, stoically walking up to you to see what your problem was. Luffy gawked and pouted from the side, while a few of the others chuckled at Law.

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livinghostly · 3 months

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hey there, sunshine — suguru geto x reader

a/n: not in love w this !! but couldn't get the idea out of my brain when i was trying to sleep. was also intended to be for choso but got too ooc sooooo wc: 2.3k yet another date didn't work out for you, and your roommate bears the burden of listening to all your complaints. he also may or may not have a crush on you. fluff/humor

the soft orange of the painted sky poured through your blinds, slipping through the cracks and almost deliberately shining down on your eyes that just barely peeked beneath your comforter. your curtains waved back and forth with the fan, soft whirrs that once lulled you to sleep now drawing you from your slumber with a ragged groan. far gone was the fulfillment of your soothing dreams, your memories running farther and farther away as you tried to recall them and sink yourself back into that peace of mind.

you screwed your eyes shut in defense from the harsh rays of the sun, huffing in the warmth of your pillow before lifting your head and sandwiching yourself against the mattress. your fists squeezed the pillowcase with irritation, pulling as hard as you could manage to encase you in the comfort of your bed.

the birds chirped in unison, chattering as they built a nest on the apartment balcony your roommate refused to relocate (he called himself a humanitarian, but you were sure part of him refrained because he knew it bothered you). the slight creaks of your rotating fan were becoming more noticeable even as you tried to calm yourself back to sleep. you were uncomfortably warm now, the frustration culminating beneath your comforter and suffocating the air.

buzz.

your phone, shaking itself to life with a notification. you sighed.

buzz.

you thrashed the bedsheets away from you, your pillows and plushies cocooning in your blankets landing on the ground with a soft thump. the palm of your hand slammed against the hollow wood of your bedside table in a blind rage, desperately scouring your clutter in an attempt to locate your phone.

finally, you dug your nails into the rubber case and snagged it from the charger with a thwack. you rolled over to your side, squinting at the sunlight as you turned it on. three new messages, and an aspiring text bubble all from one person.

080-7766-5289

hey

good morning

would you want to get coffee with me?

the pondering text bubble finally popped, and your phone vibrated again.

maybe some breakfast too?

your groggy eyes glanced at the time. 8:23am. you barely had a chance to think through the onslaught of messages. the unrelenting number belonged to a guy you’d met at the bar last week, who was sweet enough for you to trade numbers with. last night had been your first date, a simple dinner and a movie.

unfortunately for him, you felt a better connection to the movie that night than to him. he was strangely stiff when you were around, answering any questions with caution that made you feel like an intruder for asking. comments and questions of his own were dry and anything but open-ended, his punctuation hanging in the stale air while you worked overtime to keep the conversation going.

it really didn’t seem worth it.

you shut off your phone and placed it on the table again, taking a deep breath. all at once, the scent of brewed coffee beans and pancakes wafted in from the kitchen. your stomach rumbled in response, mouth slightly watering as you came to terms with just how hungry you were.

you pulled yourself out of bed, dragging your feet along the plush carpet of the apartment. sluggishly, you ran your hands through your hair in an attempt to tame what mess it made of itself. it was cooler in the open loft, the windows propped open, welcoming the dewey air and various chattering of wild critters. those damn birds.

your roommate, suguru, was in the kitchen, his back to you as he worked his magic on the stovetop in front of him. his red apron was tied into neat bows wrapped around his neck and his waist– the words ‘kiss the cook’ plastered in bold font on the front of it with puckered lips, a gag gift from gojo last christmas that he had now worn to the point of the ends being frayed and stained with various ingredients.

he was wearing a black t-shirt that squeezed the tightness of his muscles, tense and working diligently as he flipped a pancake. his black basketball shorts hung loosely around his waist– surely thrown on haphazardly as he woke up –and he donned a pair of mismatched neon-striped socks. truly, a sight reserved for you, and only you.

on the island behind him, two steaming cups of coffee were presented next to empty plates. the pink one was yours, the black one was his. your utensils had a few extra napkins stuffed underneath them.

you make a mess one time and he can’t let it go.

he acknowledged your presence with a soft hum, before turning his head and offering a small smile. it was soft and captivating, just as he was. his charm washed over you as his gaze followed every part of your figure, raising a curious eyebrow at the sight of you missing a sock. nothing he hadn’t seen before, in fact, he’d seen you much worse and much more grumpy.

“good morning,” he said, his voice a low rumble. he met your tired eyes, taking in the delicate hues that warmed his skin. your eyebrows were still pinched together as you recovered from the confusion and discomfort of your untimely awakening. “rough night?”

“rough everything,” you huffed, grabbing your coffee and shuffling next to him. you hoisted yourself up to sit next to the stack of pancakes he’d created and leaned your head against the cabinets.

suguru watched carefully as you took a sip of your coffee, a sense of pride fluttered in his stomach when a content smile graced your lips. his motions came to a slow stop as he stared you down. you paid him no mind as you wrapped both hands around the mug for warmth and basked in the taste again, then kept it close to your chest as you licked the sweetness off your lips.

after many months, he’d refined your coffee blend to your ideal taste. pestering you each time if you liked it enough, or what he could improve on to make sure that his handiwork was no less than perfect in your eyes. he reveled in the way you adored his cooking, putting pieces of himself– his adoration, compassion, and sentiment –into his creations and curating your taste closer to his own.

his grip on the spatula loosened, nearly slipping out of his hand and bringing him back to reality.

suguru cleared his throat and resumed his task, sliding an additional pancake onto the tower, slowly but surely resembling the one of pisa. he kept his head low with a merciless blush refusing to back down. you didn’t notice. “did it not go well?”

“it was… fine, i guess.” you sighed, beginning to zone out as you stared down a picture frame hanging not too far away.

it was you and suguru, one of the first few nights you had finally gotten comfortable being around him and he’d invited you to meet his friends. more so, he begged you to come out of your room and gave you no room for escape when he sandwiched you between himself and the couch’s armrest. shoko took the photo, stealthily enough you didn’t realize it existed until you saw it hanging in the hallway.

suguru’s arm was thrown over the back of the couch, a lazy grin on his face as he looked at you. (gojo told him he looked goofy with that expression. lovestruck didn’t ‘suit’ him.) you couldn’t stop laughing at one of his many sly comments he’d whisper to you, covering your face as you cackled and peeked through them to get a look at him. his stare made your face burn hot and you kept it covered until gojo managed to grab everyone’s attention, like he always did.

it felt so long ago when suguru existed as your shy, withdrawn roommate who would stare at you with, seemingly, a dull interest when you spoke to him. despite his staring, he was always polite and considerate of your needs, your time, your privacy. he invited you to the food he’d make, setting aside extra servings for you. if you had already eaten, they’d go in the fridge with a sticky note on it.

then he was recording your shows, buying your snacks, anything he got for himself he seemed to get one for you as well, in a different color. it all came with ease, drawing you into his routines like he had his own gravitational pull and you were stuck in his orbit.

as he’d gotten to know you, he learned how spiteful you were to any form of change. you hated it when your go-to brands changed their packaging, when your restaurants were out of your preferred foods, or when your route to work was partially under construction. but you adjusted, without contest, to suguru’s rituals like it was nothing at all.

“i don’t know. maybe i’m being mean, but he was so, like, hard to talk to,” you shrugged. “it is so tiring to be the one doing all the talking.”

suguru doesn’t say anything, just nods.

“and then he texted me good morning. in what world are we in the good-morning-text phase?” you pouted, looking at him. “so weird. i barely know him.”

“and he asked me out for coffee. and breakfast. why would i do that?” suguru’s gaze flutters over you as you take a sip from your mug, his eyes lingering on the way you bite your lip in thought afterward. he chooses to stay quiet, inviting you to ramble for as long as you pleased, as long as he would be the one to hear your voice. “i don’t think i have the brainpower for either of those things and carrying an entire conversation on my back. it’s not even 9 in the morning.”

he turned the stovetop off, taking the pan over to the sink to wash. the mixing bowl and other utensils were taken care of earlier and already set aside on the drying rack, always so tidy.

“so, not well,” suguru concluded, his lips turning into a smirk. he teased, “i won’t get to meet him?”

“no, never. but also i got a free dinner and a movie out of it. so, something went right...”

he chuckled. the one thing men are good for, you’d told him before. in that way, he really wasn’t any different from the rest of your roster. he supplied you with food and outings, and wouldn’t dream of you paying for them, paying no mind to the way you’d protest and nearly brawl at the register.

suguru never met any of your dates, you’d disappear into the night– or days on end, not allowing them the gratification of crossing the threshold of your apartment.

he began to separate the pancakes onto your respective plates and set a small bowl of sliced fruit between them for you to share. he cleared his throat. “on to the next, then?”

“maybe… i don’t know. the thought of going out and all the dates is just so exhausting.”

suguru hummed again. a man of few words. he liked the idea of you staying in– staying home, with him. he honestly wasn’t sure how many horrible date stories he could handle, you could do so much better. you deserved better, and he could give it to you.

he twirled his fork as you slipped behind him, gently caressing his back as you passed. a warm trail remained in the absence of your hand, burning into his skin before dissipating into nothing more than a longing to reel back into your embrace again. “are you still interested in that bodega that just opened up? i don’t want to exhaust you.”

“no, that's not…” you paused, slipping into your stool, mouth agape as you found your words. “it’s different, with you, you know. it’s easy.”

“i’m easy?”

it was too early in the morning for his games. you sputtered. “no– stop! that’s not what i’m saying.”

suguru chuckled. “we don’t have to call it a date, you know, if it makes it easier.”

“what?” you blinked, then narrowing your eyes at him. the sun from the loft brightened his toffee-colored eyes that bored into you expectantly, though not bothering to repeat himself. he’d rather watch you squirm while he kept that stupid grin on his face. “do you think you’re making me feel better?”

the gentle glow of his skin was unmatched to anything, or anyone, you’ve seen. his hair was unbrushed, the slight curls framing the sides of his face and tickling underneath his chin. he was always elegant. and pretty. unfortunately, he was just as aware as you were.

he shrugged half-heartedly, taking note of the way your fingers bounced your fork in the air as you stared. “don’t worry if you don’t want to go.”

“i do want to go.”

“so, it’s a date, then.”

suguru took a quick bite of his pancakes, poorly hiding his taunting grin with stuffed cheeks. maybe later he would feel guilty, making you all flustered so soon after waking up, drowsiness anchoring your posture against the stool. but, for now, with you in front of him, he found himself giddy as he toyed with your reactions.

“you’re impossible sometimes, do you know that?” you opted for taking a sip of your coffee, an anxious whisper in the shell of your ear warning you that you were going to embarrass yourself by chewing with your mouth full. as if he hadn't seen it before. it was hard to avoid his stare, to escape the painful position he put you in. was he serious?

you mumbled into your mug, “you hang out with gojo too much. is he gonna tag along, too?”

(gojo, the master of getting anything he wanted, any time, anywhere, no matter what.)

“it hurt's me, that you're thinking about him at a time like this.”

he smiled, more genuine this time. you watched him carefully, catching the nervous twitch of his fingertips he combated with a melodic thrum against the island. you considered how sincere his tone was, his gentle demeanor somehow becoming more soft as his playfulness subsided.

"let me take you out."

you blinked, chewing on your lip thoughtfully. "to... the bodega?"

suguru laughed. "of course. i was thinking of a few different places, though."

"as in more dates?" you poked in his direction with your fork. he nodded. "who says we make it past one?"

"why not? we've already made it to our 'good morning' and 'eating breakfast together' phase."

#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk suguru #jjk suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru x reader #geto x reader #suguru geto fluff #suguru fluff #geto fluff #jujutsu kaisen suguru #gojo mentioned #lol #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto #spleen writes

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azrielbrainrot · 2 months

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Mind Over Matter

Eris x Reader

Description: Eris sees you at your lowest and you get a glimpse behind the mask.

Warnings: Angst, Domestic Violence, Injury

Word Count: 3550

Notes: In case it's confusing this is set before Fire on Fire. Hope you enjoy!

part of the fire on fire universe

The forest looked beautiful today. The red and orange leaves cast shadows over the whole clearing, and from the tree branch you were sitting at, you could see the birds flying and even some bunnies hopping around the bushes. It had been raining all week but it finally let up this morning, the sun was now shining high in the sky making it a perfect day to sit and read outside.

Even if the season never changes, you can tell apart the “beginning” and “end” of autumn. The leaves are just starting to fall, meaning this would be the beginning of the season. In a few months when the leaves are mostly on the ground, it will be the “end” and then the cycle will repeat itself. You always preferred this time when the sun is still shining and the forest is alive.

It might be summertime in the solar courts from your calculations, not that you've ever stepped foot out of this one, or even out of the city. As much as you love the forests tinged in orange, you can't help but wonder what it would be like if they gave way to different sights every few months.

Perhaps it would make autumn more enjoyable if it wasn't constantly upon you. You think you wouldn't hate the spring or summer, when the sun is warmer and there isn't as much rain, when different flowers bloom making the forests turn into different shades of green and brown and so many other colors.

You haven't been this deep into the woods in a long time, your mother and father had both finally left the house for long enough at the same time after what felt like forever. With the rain, your mother hadn't been invited to any tea parties and your father always seemed to be working in his office nowadays, never even leaving to attend any meetings. Seems the High Lord had given him some important job.

You'd feel bad for whoever had the misfortune of their company today but these are the few moments of peace you can steal for yourself, and you've been praying to The Mother that something came up so your father was called to the Forest House or even further. If it was something scandalous enough it would take your mother to her friend's houses to discuss it among themselves too.

You get so lost in your thoughts and the book you're reading, in the calmness and silence the forest brings you that it's only when you look up at the sky and see it starting to turn the same orange tone as the trees that you realize the sun is almost setting, you were late. You weren't sure how long your parents would be gone for, hopefully they weren't coming before dinner or they would already be looking for you.

Gathering your skirt, you hop down from the thick branch you've been sitting on, shoving your book into the old bag you once stole from one of the many closets in your house. It took you a few tries, and reading a couple of books, but you had managed to charm it to hold a lot more than its size would lead you to believe. You've been using it to keep books, dried flowers you've turned into bookmarks, random trinkets you've found over the years and even a couple of pants. Anything your parents wouldn't approve of you having really, things you actually called your own. Picking it up, you winnow to its hiding place - an old hollowed tree close to the edge of the woods behind your house - and quickly cover it so no one comes across it.

The maids knew you weren't inside, thinking you were in the gazebo watching the flowers, or feeling sorry for yourself, whatever they told themselves you did all day, so winnowing straight to your room wasn't an option. There was also the risk of any of them lingering around and seeing you. The garden had to do then, the servants had probably all left the grounds by then, retiring to their own homes.

You winnow deep into the garden so you're surrounded by bushes, close to the crimson roses that overlooked the side entrance to the estate. You weren't usually allowed on this side of the garden, it was too close to the servants' gate, meaning any of the “lowly” males could see you and you wouldn't know how to defend yourself from their advances. Sometimes you think your father is convinced you need instructions for breathing too.

Waving a hand over yourself to clean off any obvious dirt for the moment, you almost sprint closer to the gazebo, the place the maids would come looking for you when it was time to get ready for dinner.

Your heart stalls in your chest when you turn the corner to find your father walking the grounds. His face turns into stone as soon as he lays eyes on you, making you drop your skirt immediately, smoothing it with your hands out of habit, always trying to appear as polished as you can in front of him.

By his side stood your fiancé, looking as elegant as ever in a black three piece suit, topped off with a muted red tie to match the soles of his shoes. You've never seen his hair this long, it was combed back and tied in a small knot. Your gaze moves back to your father's disappointed face when his eyes meet yours, always so intense and calculating, suffocating even.

It had been years since you'd last been caught outside by your father and, to make matters worse, Eris was here too. At least he only saw you in the garden, even if further in than you're normally allowed. You don't even want to think what would happen if he'd seen you winnow from the woods.

“What are you doing outside at nightfall?” Your father was clearly displeased with you, not only for going against his wishes but also for doing it in front of such an important person.

“I simply got distracted looking at the flowers,” you try to sound as demure as possible, thinking maybe you could fix this by playing dumb since your father probably didn't want to make a scene in front of Eris, “They're blooming so beautifully.”

“You must have been really distracted,” he says as he turns his head menacingly, “since you know you're not allowed to wander around unattended.”

His tone almost makes you flinch, your face dropping. It had been foolish of you to think you could talk yourself out of the situation. Eris' presence wouldn't make your father less volatile, it only made things worse. He wanted to show the other male he was capable of handling his family, not wanting to appear weak in front of the heir.

You hadn't stopped to think that this could also make you less viable for marriage. His daughter being personally chosen by the High Lord as his eldest son's fiancé was your father's greatest accomplishment, and he knew better than you that Beron's mind was easily changed, he wouldn't want Eris to think you might not be the best option after all.

In this moment you ponder tarnishing your reputation as much as you could to get out of this marriage. If only it wouldn't cost you your life with it. Your father always hated the fact that you were born female. A male would bring the family name glory but a female could only hope to wed into a noble family. If you were to lose the High Lord's favor your father would likely lock you away from the world or even dispose of you altogether.

Your father lets out what you think he means as a disapproving sigh, but you can hear the excitement behind it, can see it on his face. He's grown to enjoy the moments when he can put you or your mother in your place, it makes him feel important. He approaches you, moving away from a slightly confused looking Eris.

You knew what was coming as soon as you saw your father pull his hand back, you've been here before many times after all. You close your eyes, feeling the heat approach your face, trying not to let your instincts take over and try to avoid it, that only makes it worse. The force of the slap makes your head turn to the side, your body almost following, but the worst part is the flames, you have to bite your lip not to let out any sound as you feel the burn eating at your skin. You faintly smell burning and try not to think about it, knowing it's the smell of your own flesh.

He holds your chin with a still too warm hand, even if already rid of the flames, and looks into your eyes closely, wanting to revel in your pain. “I've taught you better than this.” He adds another light slap to your face for good measure before letting you go completely. It almost hurts more than the first one, the skin was so tender even just moving your face hurt.

Taking a weak breath in, you try to calm your mind, ignore the pain and rage warring inside you. Clutching tightly onto your dress to keep your hands occupied, in case your mind slips and you burn his face in rage the same way he keeps doing to yours. You feel the flames wanting to rise up to your skin but firmly snuff them out, making sure they stay safely hidden deep inside you until it's the right time.

The pain has gotten easier to bear over the years, now you close your eyes not from fear but to calm yourself. You don't have the strength to go against him yet or a plan for a safe escape, you refuse to lose your life so easily after enduring this for so long. One day you will make him pay for everything he has put you through but first you need a plan and you need to be stronger.

This time it was different though, Eris was watching, you could feel his gaze burning into your skin deeper than your father's fiery palm ever could. There had been witnesses to his cruelty before, even outside your family and servants, you had seen pity, satisfaction and even trained blankness in their faces, had learned to ignore them and not ask for help under any circumstance - it took you too long to realize that the ones showing pity know your pain or are as powerless as you.

But, for some reason, knowing Eris, your future husband, the heir to the throne, is watching makes you want to cry for the first time since you were a child. You bite your lip and clench your fists as hard as you can, opening your eyes only enough to look to the ground, hoping your face isn't giving away too much or the burn was at least enough to hide it.

Suddenly interested in studying the cobbled stones you've walked on for decades, you notice your earring fell off, the ruby glinting in one of the little nooks in between stones, suffocated with no place to escape to just like you felt. You briefly wondered if it had simply gotten loose with the force or if it was ripped off your earlobe, but the pain on the side of your face was too intense to be able to pinpoint a specific area. A ripped earlobe was the least of your concerns anyway.

“What do you think you're doing?” All your thoughts evaporate when you hear his voice. He sounds uncharacteristically angry, you've never seen him lose the teasing lilt to his words or crafted nonchalant tone. You can't help but look up at him with wide eyes, not even remembering the shame you had felt before.

“Not to worry. Her face will be healed by tomorrow morning,” your father barely hesitates, assuming the anger wasn't directed at him hitting you, “I wouldn't give you damaged goods, my lord.”

Sometimes you wonder how your father had lived for so long, how he managed to become important enough that he not only worked for Beron but the High Lord would also want his heir to marry you, when he could be this dense. It was clear Eris wasn't worried about your face, his anger was almost palpable.

You know he wears a mask like no one else, you've seen it in action, but, if your father hadn't been so self-absorbed, if it was Beron standing in front of him, this would end very differently. Because the mask had fallen at the same time your stupid earring did. What was staring at you was Eris' true face. Your father was too thick to notice but you could gamble your life on it.

It showed his unrestrained fury and power rumbling just beneath his skin, you're not sure how your father didn't notice the way the temperature rose around them, the air suddenly resembling the summer you had just been longing for. His gaze burned hotter than lava and the planes of his face carved out the perfect personification of fury. His face was the perfect picture of the new High Lord of the Autumn Court. It was all fire, beautifully and all consuming.

He was making a bigger effort of not hurting your father than you were. When your eyes met you could almost see him forcefully pushing his feelings away, stuffing himself down with them, burying them deep inside him to keep the plot he's been writing for centuries intact. Still, his gaze lingered on your marred cheek too long, you think you even see his fingers spasm, as if wanting to reach out, if it was to console you or to snap your father's neck you couldn't be sure but the sentiment behind it was the same.

You almost gasp as the realization comes to you. The look on his face isn't all anger but what's underlining it isn't pity, it's the face of someone who understands. He's been in your same place. It shouldn't be a surprise to you, Beron's cruelty will far outlive his name, but it's hard to imagine Eris, inarguably the second most powerful fae in this court, in your place.

Your stomach twists at the implications. If even he can't fight Beron, what hope do you have of escaping your father? Especially now that he's aligned himself with the High Lord? It's in this moment that you know Eris' warnings were correct, there's no use running, you wouldn't make it but a couple steps.

“She needs a healer to fix her face,” you can almost see him choosing his words, playing into your father's narrative enough while trying to help you as much as he can. You're starting to think you have Eris figured out. Is this how he has survived this long? “See that it gets done quickly.”

He leaves without another word, turning away from you father and letting his eyes linger on your burnt flesh one more time before winnowing out of your estate. You don't look away from where he'd just been even when your father grabs your arm and pulls you along on his way inside the house, cursing you with every step. You wouldn't be able to leave your room and escape into the forest for a while.

Later that night, when you're returning to your room, after a healer treated your wounds as usual, and made sure Eris' goods wouldn't be permanently damaged as your father had so lovingly put it, you find a vaguely familiar, faint scent lingering in the air, it makes your heart stop.

Thankfully, the maids didn't accompany you to your room, they didn't like treating you cruelly but helping you could get them in trouble with your father so they'd rather just watch in silence, or, even better, turn their face whenever it was possible.

If they had followed you, they would have noticed the scent, would run and tell your father. You're not sure if they'd recognize it as his, he doesn't visit your house often after all, but the spicy scent was unmistakably male. It's better not to think of the amount of trouble you would be in if they smelled it.

You walk to the window first, opening it as wide as you can so the chilly night air fills the room instead, making sure there would be no residuals in the morning when they came to wake you. Looking up at the full moon in the cloudy sky, feeling the wind turn to ice against the side of your face still covered in a thick cooling salve and wrapped in bandages, you hesitate one more time before moving to the foreign items sitting at your vanity table, undoubtedly left behind by your dear fiancé.

Eris left you a tiny bottle with some strange bluish liquid inside accompanied by a small red velvet box tied off with a golden ribbon. You know he won't poison you, the bargain won't allow it, but you weren't sure what else he could do if he let his imagination run wild. You decide reading the note set on top of the box might give you an idea.

He has no right to treat you like this. I'm sorry I can't do more to help you for now but I promise there will come a day when he won't be able to hurt you anymore.

The note wasn't signed but you knew it was his. Even after your agreement, you didn't think he would try to make you feel better, even going as far as risking getting caught while dropping this off, since this fragile alliance of yours had been neither of your first choices.

You pick up the bottle and uncork it, immediately recognizing the calming scent of a sleeping draught. It would help with your nightmares. This is a generous amount too, it can last you a while. You set it back down and untie the ribbon, opening the box to find some chocolate and sugar cookies.

A sleeping draught and cookies. Never in your life had you received anything like this. You can't even admit it to yourself but this is by far the most thoughtful gift you've ever gotten from anyone.

He had to have an idea of how awful your father was to you, you told him as much when you made the bargain, but he might not have realized he went as far as physically hurting you. Eris knows the pain of an abusive father, of being haunted by their cruelty even in your dreams. So, he gave you the draught to help you even a little and the cookies to console you, something sweet to fend off the pain.

Just when you were starting to feel thankful for Eris, thinking you might have been too harsh on him before, you notice something else written on the other side of the note. Turning it around and reading it as well.

I wasn't aware you could winnow so well. Just how much are you hiding from your family, doll?

Your entire body tenses at the words, turning the paper into flames lest anyone reads it. He knows. You've managed to hide this ability from everyone for decades, but now Eris, of all people, knows. You're not sure how he noticed when your father didn't. He could have arrived before him, could have wandered around the grounds without anyone knowing. Is it possible that he knew where you went? No, he couldn't have come from the forest in time to talk to your father and see you.

You hold your hand up to rub over your chest, simultaneously trying to calm your racing heart and feeling the mark of the bargain woven into your soul, trying to reassure yourself. He's your ally. He won't tell anyone, the bargain won't allow it. But what could he do with this information? You had the upper hand when you made the bargain but it feels like he just stepped ahead.

After a few moments of breathing in the cold air still seeping into the room and settling your mind, you sit down on the chair by the vanity unceremoniously, letting your head drop into your hands for a moment. A heavy sigh escapes you as you open the cookie box again. What kind of person sends you gifts and includes a mildly threatening message with them. Must he always push your buttons like this?

You take a bite out of a chocolate cookie and let the delicious taste melt in your mouth, eyeing the small bottle. It seems you'll need to use it tonight, you definitely need a good dreamless sleep after the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through the whole day.

What you fail to notice is that, between the chocolate and sugar cookies you keep munching on and the annoyance now targeted towards Eris, your face barely even hurts anymore and you weren't left thinking of the deep rooted ache in your soul after your father hurt you yet another time.

#eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris x you #eris vanserra x you #eris x y/n #eris vanserra x y/n #eris #eris vanserra #eris acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x you #eris fic #eris vanserra fic #fire on fire universe #divider by saradika

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meangirls-imagines · 1 month

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Forever Will Last

Description: reader and reneè hit a bit of a rough patch after the vanity fair oscar party.

WARNINGS: 2,677 words of angst and happiness and fluff. reader plays for the us women's soccer team and angel city. guest appearances by christen press, tobin heath, and ali krieger.

y/n's heart broke as she saw the video.

"towa bird and reneè rapp make their red carpet debut as a couple"

as she sat on their couch, medal in hand, she felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. she had just gotten back from winning the gold cup and opted out of celebrations with her team in hopes of celebrating with her girlfriend.

she was going to propose to reneè that night. and now here she was, almost shattering her phone with how strong her grip was on it. she never really understood why adam never liked her, but she never thought it would go this low.

he had proposed towa and reneè be in a pr relationship so that way the world didn't find out about her and y/n. plus, it would help launch both towa and reneè's careers. y/n didn't really have a choice, having to agree to the stunt. a little piece of her died every time she had to see towa and reneè close.

she had composed herself enough to get up and pack some things. the season was starting soon and she still had training to go to. she grabbed all of her essentials for that and some extra clothes, finding the ring while packing. tears stung in her eyes as she put the little box on the bed.

she found a piece of paper, deciding to leave reneè a note instead of a text. she took a deep breath, leaving the note on the bed and leaving. as she got in her car, she looked back at the house that once felt comforting to her. now, it just felt empty and hollow.

she got in her car, having a destination in mind, and left without looking back.

reneè and towa stumbled in the house hours later, towa laughing at the blonde who tripped over her dress. reneè had drank a lot but had sobered enough before she arrived home. "reneè, get yourself together. you don't wanna wake your girl up." reneè nodded and her and towa hugged before the girl left.

reneè tiptoed to the bedroom, ready to take this dress and makeup off before melting in her girlfriend's arms. she missed y/n so much at the party. all she wanted was y/n to be with her, showing off her hot, soccer playing girlfriend. she and adam had gotten into a fight before she had left for the party, the man taking her away from watching her girlfriend play in the gold cup.

he had even gone the extra mile and held reneè's phone for her so people would actually believe that she wanted to be there. her and towa had enjoyed themselves, but even her friend could tell that the blonde didn't wanna be there.

as she opened the bedroom door, she found the room empty. her heart dropped as she spotted the letter and the ring box on their bed. y/n was nowhere to be seen. she looked in their bathroom.

nothing.

their guest room.

nothing.

the blonde was on the verge of tears. her girlfriend was nowhere to be seen. she spotted the note once again and with shaky hands, opened it, tears finally spilling down her face.

reneè,

i never thought i would do this.

before i say anything, i want you to know that i love you with every fiber of my being.

but i can't do this anymore. i can't sit back and watch someone else get to show you off as theirs. i don't think i was ever okay with the idea but if it helped you skyrocket into stardom, i just went with it because i wanted to see you succeed. the world deserves to see you shine. which is why it's so hard to have to let you go.

i feel like an anchor. like i'm holding you back. you deserve to shine, stargirl. just not with me.

i wanted to be with you forever, but i guess forever wasn't meant for us.

you deserve better reneè, and i really hope you find it.

i'll always love you.

shine on stargirl.

y/n

reneè was sobbing, leaving tear marks over the already dried ones on the note. she had no idea y/n felt like this. she couldn't imagine how the girl felt seeing her and towa do things that she wanted to do with reneè.

reneè opened the ring box and sobbed harder at the beautiful diamond ring inside. she turned her phone on to call and notifications began pouring in, breaking reneè's heart even more.

her little brother had texted her a play by play of the gold cup final, expressing his excitement to see y/n again after her game winning goal. her parents had even texted her about the game. she went to twitter and saw the highlights of the game, sniffling as she watched y/n make the game winning shot to eventually win the final. she cried again when she saw a picture of y/n holding the cup and the gold ball awarded to her.

she immediately called alyah, telling her to come over.

y/n sighed as she trekked up the familiar path to a familiar front door. she knocked three times and waited for the person to answer. the door opened, revealing christen press. she took one look at y/n and pulled her into a hug.

christen had a gift for knowing when her adopted daughters needed a hug. as soon as the older woman's arms wrapped around y/n, the dam broke. she began to sob in the woman's arms. hearing the commotion, a worried tobin heath and ali krieger came around the corner, their hearts breaking at the girl crying in christen's arms.

tobin went to grab the bag y/n dropped as ali guided the two into the living room.

the women had no idea what had made y/n cry like this, but they were going to get to the bottom of it. quick.

back with reneè, alyah and reece had made it and were both consoling the blonde. she had since changed into one of y/n's national team hoodies and sweats. "reneè, have you tried calling her?" reneè shook her head, not saying much as she fiddled with the diamond ring on her left hand. alyah sighed, looking at reece for help.

the boy sighed and leaned forward. "nae, did y/n tell you how she felt about the stunt?" the blonde nodded. "the day adam brought it up, she expressed her concerns about it. i took them to heart but adam just brushed her off." alyah sighed. reece continued. "have you seen some of the videos fans make of you and towa? because if i didn't know you, i would think you're dating towa."

reneè looked at him confused as he pulled out his phone, opening TikTok.

video after video, reneè began to understand. if she saw videos like this of y/n and one of her teammates, she was sure she would react the same. alyah, while also seeing the videos, had tried calling y/n, but no one was answering. she just hoped y/n had the same support system that reneè had at the moment.

after explaining what she had been feeling and what was the breaking point, y/n waited for the older women to speak. tobin spoke first. "well, i think you two need to sit down and talk about how you feel and if reneè is open to finding a new team. i don't think she should work with someone that wants her to not be herself." the other woman agreed.

ali took y/n's hands in hers. "y/n, listen to me. you cannot let that girl go. she makes you so incredibly happy and i don't want you to lose that happiness. you and reneè were made for each other. please do not let her go." y/n laid her head on christen's shoulder. "i just don't want to hold her back from her full potential. she deserves the world and i'm not sure i can give her that."

the women's hearts broke at the girl's words. after y/n's last breakup, they had seen how the girl had closed in on herself, her insecurities being blared to the public. when she met reneè, they saw a sliver of the old y/n back. they didn't want her to close back in on herself after she had worked so hard to overcome that.

back with reneè, after much talking with alyah and reece, she knew what she had to do. she grabbed her phone, calling adam.

"we need to talk."

the nwsl season opener had come to quick for y/n's liking. angel city was playing bay fc for their home opener. y/n had been staying with christen and tobin for the remainder of the offseason. she hadn't talked to reneè since that night, but christen had been keeping up with the blonde for y/n. the girl was shocked when she learned that reneè had fired adam and gotten a new manager.

christen and tobin had tried to get y/n to talk to reneè but the girl wouldn't budge. she stood by her choice to let reneè be the star she was meant to be. as the team took their places in line, y/n stood next to ali riley as they read off the rosters for the opening game. the woman rubbed y/n's back gently. "you okay joey?"

y/n chuckled at the nickname. ali had given it to upon their first meeting. "yeah. i'm fine. just nerves." she didn't wanna tell the older woman she wished reneè was here to cheer her on. the defender smiled at her and they took their places on the bench, ready for the game to start.

reneè smiled at the usher who scanned her ticket as she stood off to the side, waiting for her brother, parents, alyah and reece to join her. her new manager, julie, had joined them too. reneè had fired adam on the grounds of being too controlling of her life, and she found julie shortly after.

after explaining the situation she was in, julie had immediately gotten with towa's manager and released a statement explaining that their relationship was no more than a stunt and that they are very close friends and collaborators. renee's fans had blasted adam on all socials about what happened and were very much in support of reneè.

the blonde had decided that she wasn't going to let anyone get in the way of her getting what she loved. and she loved y/n and wanted to spend the rest of her life with her.

so, diamond ring on her hand, and one of y/n's jerseys on, she and her group walked to the vip section of the stadium and waited in anticipation for the game.

obviously, with cameras in 2024, people began to notice the blonde sitting pitch side with her family. people took pictures and posted them on socials, speculating.

@reneefan2: ARE RENEÈ AND Y/N TOGETHER? BE STILL MY HEART

@y/nisthegoat: GUYS I JUST SAW RENEÈ RAPP AT THE ANGEL CITY GAME AND GIRLY HAD ON A Y/N JERSEY AND A VERY INTERESTING THING ON HER LEFT RING FINGER!! OMG

@reneerappnews: Reneè Rapp spotted at the Angel City home opener, sporting a y/n y/l/n jersey. *photo attached*

@uswntfan13: guys. reneè just took a picture with my friend and when we asked who she was here for, she just smirked and said "my baby." OH MY GOD??

come halftime, the entire stadium and world seemed to know that reneè was at the game, except the person she was here for. y/n had never really been the person to check her phone during halftime but some of her teammates were and when they saw reneè here, they all shared a knowing look, deciding not to tell y/n.

after the halftime pep talk, the teams made their way back onto the field. at about the 65th minute, y/n made her way to the ref to sub in for sydney leroux, who happened to be wearing the captain's band. the crowd started to scream louder as the hype video for y/n began to play on the jumbotron.

reneè noticed and pulled out her phone to take a picture. as they showed y/n getting ready to sub in on the screen, she snapped the picture, posting it to her instagram story with the caption "captain, my captain ❤️". she locked her phone and began to watch the game, tracking y/n intently.

at around the 85th minute, angel city got awarded a corner kick. with the score being 0-0, the home fans watched in anticipation to see if this was going to end the game or send it into extra time. y/n paced around in the box, waiting for the right moment.

ali riley put her hand up, signaling the kick, and shot the ball into the box. y/n jumped, and thanks to her jumping ability, headed the ball into the back of the net, scoring.

the stadium went wild, as the team huddled around y/n, screaming and cheering. they all got back into position and played the last few minutes of the game before the final whistle blew, signaling the end. the stadium erupted as the players shook hands and did their laps around the stadium.

as y/n was signing a young girl's jersey, christen came up behind her and hugged her. "i'll take over here, there's someone who wants to see you." y/n nodded and hugged the little girl and turned to walk back in the direction christen came from. as she walked, she noticed tobin standing next to someone but y/n couldn't see who.

as she got closer, she recognized that blonde head of hair anywhere.

reneè.

the girl stopped walking and looked at reneè in shock. she wasn't expecting the girl to be here, of all places. the blonde had finished her conversation with tobin and spotted y/n standing a few feet off, frozen in shock. the blonde smiled and walked the remaining distance to y/n stopping a few feet in front of her.

"hi." y/n shook herself out of her shocked state to answer. "hey."

reneè took this as her opportunity to speak.

"i'm so so sorry baby. i should've known to shut that shit down before it started. i thought you were okay with it and i was wrong. and when i came home that night and you weren't there, a piece of my heart went with you. and then i saw the note and the ring." at the mention of the ring, y/n's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. she then noticed the diamond sitting on reneè's left hand.

reneè noticed what y/n was looking at and smiled. "yeah. i found the ring. and reading your note helped me realize what i had to do. i did have some help." she looked back. y/n followed her sight and saw reneè's family, alyah, reece, preath and ali all standing off to the side, bright smiles directed at y/n.

y/n gasped as reneè took the ring off her finger, gently grabbing y/n's hand and placing it in her palm.

"will you ask me?" y/n blushed as she slowly got down on one knee.

"reneè, i never imagined proposing to you while all sweaty and gross from a game but here we are. from the moment we met, i knew you were the one i wanted to spend the rest of my life with. you bring light into my world, filling it with joy and laughter. i cannot imagine a future without you by my side. that being said, reneè mary jane rapp, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

reneè had tears running down her face as she nodded. "yes! a million times yes!" everyone around them cheered as y/n stood, sliding the ring back on reneè's hand. reneè leaned in and kissed y/n so passionately, it was like the rest of the world disappeared around them, letting them have their special moment.

twitter the next day erupted at the post of one picture by the official USWNT instagram page:

reneè rapp and angel city forward y/n y/l/n are ENGAGED! we wish the couple nothing but the best as they enter this next chapter of their lives! welcome to the family, reneè!

#renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #renee rapp imagine

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absideon-ephemeral · 1 year

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Dog Tags | Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes x (fem) reader

Summary: there is something about Bucky’s dog tags that drove both of you crazy.

A/N: SET AFTER THE SHOW THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER. I have a head cannon that Bucky ended up moving to Louisiana and buying a house close to Sarah.

Warnings: (hopefully) tooth rotting fluff, mild language, Reader described as having boobs, suggestive themes, illness, idk what I missed so read at your own advisory I guess.

There was something about them.

Those fucking dog tags.

He wore them every moment of every day: didn’t even take them off to shower or sleep.

They were just pieces of metal (although they had special value to him) so you couldn’t figure out why it drove you crazy whenever you caught a glimpse of them.

I was a good kind of crazy though. One that would make you go feral for him. You never voiced this to your beautiful lover, but he knew. Oh, he knew.

After finding out about your obsession from Sam a little birdie, he would make any excuse to show them off. In the shower, working out, cuddling? Bucky did it all. (His favorite was seeing them dangle and slap your face while he has you folded in half).

But his ultimate favorite ended up happening on a quiet Sunday morning. . .

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It was early. Early enough to just begin to hear the birds chirp and see the sun start to rise. Bucky unlocked your shared front door and crept inside as quietly as possible.

For the past week, he had been away on some diplomatic mission to tie up loose ends left from the Flagsmashers. His week was crammed full of press conferences, meetings, and the occasional man hunt for a left-over Smasher. And for the past week, his stress has been through the roof.

It all started when he had managed to forget his dogs tags on the bathroom counter the morning he left. For the rest of the week, an unsettling weightlessness sat on his chest and the absence of the familiar, cool metal was strange. The tags brought him comfort: it kept him grounded and reminded him of who he is. On rough days, they acted as a form of emotional support - reminding him that he is James Buchanan Barnes and not him. Without them, a strange hollowness followed him everywhere.

And to make matters worse, you ended up falling sick with something close to pneumonia the day after he left. He was helpless and couldn’t do anything more than call and pester Sarah to check on you.

So he felt empty and stressed, but now he was home and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with you.

As quietly as possible, Bucky set down his bag and toed off his mud-crusted boots, making his way to the kitchen after. He tried (keyword, tried) to quietly recreate his mom’s famous chicken noodle soup for you, but it was a bit hard when his metal arm ‘clinked’ against the pot and bowl.

Once he was satisfied with the meal he prepared, he grabbed a glass of water and made his way to your shared bedroom.

Nudging the door open, he was greeted with the sight of your sleeping form sprawled out on the bed. Setting the soup and water on the bedside table, he sat on the edge of the bed to silently admire you.

There you lay, hair a messy halo on the pillow and small snores accompanying each breath. He took note that you were wearing his old red shirt with the words “can you give me a hand?” written across it (Sam had given it to him during a visit to Wakanda when he was an armless mess). But the thing he noticed most was the harsh rasp and rattle of your lungs with each breath. A frown fell upon his face as he decided wether or not to wake you up. On one hand, he wanted you to enjoy your, seemingly peaceful, sleep; but on the other, he knew that you needed to clear your lungs before you suffocated on mucus.

The thought of you not suffocating won over and he gently shook you awake. It took a couple shakes and the quiet repetition of your name to elicit a groan from you. From there, he began to gently coax you further into awareness.

“Come on doll, I’m finally home and want to see those pretty eyes. I need you to get up, hon.” He spoke softly.

Slowly but surely, your eyes opened and you had to blink a few times to clear them. Upon seeing the beautiful face of your lover you shot up, despite the protest of your sluggish body, and threw your arms around his neck.

“I missed you so much.” Your voice was hoarse from coughing and sounded so frail.

“I missed you too, darling. I know you’re probably still tired, but how about we take a nice, warm shower together, hm? That way we can both be clean and we can loosen up that gunk in your lungs.”

You simply nodded, too tired and on the brink of falling asleep against him. He wrapped you up in his arms and carried out of bed and to the bathroom. Once inside, he set you down on the toilet and turned on the shower all the way to hot. He stripped himself bare, save for his boxers, and then began to help you.

Kneeling in front of you, he placed his hands on your waistband, a silent ask of permission. You lifted your hips just enough for him to slide your shorts off. The shirt came next. But it’s what was under it that caught him off guard.

It wasn’t the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra, no, he was used to that.

But it was the fact that you were wearing his dog tags.

His dog tags.

The ones he left behind and had felt their absence all week.

Sitting so prettily between your breasts, shining and slick with condensation.

For a minute his brain short circuited - snapping into a daze as the bathroom began to fill with hot, thick steam. But it was your voice that brought him back.

“Bucky?” The small call was followed by a series of coughs that racked your whole body.

He immediately sprang into action, rubbing your back and pushing your damp hair away from your face. Reassuring words spilled out of his mouth like a poem; guiding you through it and reminding you to try and breathe. By the time the coughing subsided and you could breathe again, your chest hurt and your lungs were so tired. Bucky could see your exhaust and it pained him to see you so tired.

“Whats on your mind?” The question caught him off guard.

“Nothing hun. Just thinking about how pretty you look wearing my tags.”

A small grin broke out on your face, “you like when I wear ‘em?”

His eyes met yours. “Honey, I absolutely fucking love it.”

A raspy chuckle escaped you. “Good. Cause I want to wear them if that’s okay with you. Especially when you’re not here. It’s like I have you right beside me no matter what.”

Bucky smiled and stood up, stripping you and himself of the remaining clothes and guiding you off the toilet and to the shower. “Doll, you can wear them whenever you want. You can wear them forever if that’s what it takes to make you always feel safe and loved,” he stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to hit him first, “but I will always be by your side. With or without those tags.”

A small smirk crept upon his face as you fully joined him in the shower.

“You don’t know the things you do to me wearing my tags. Actually, I want you to wear them every day. That way, everyone will know you’re mine.”

———————————————————————

And he kept true to his word. Everyday, he would place those tags around your neck, making sure they fell just right on your chest. More often than not it ended up with him bending you over the bathroom counter and watching in the mirror as his tags slapped against your tits. And he made sure you always had them when he was away as well. No longer had he felt anxious or empty without them for he knew that they were always beside your heart.

So, it’s safe to say, that his favorite way of seeing his dog tags, was on you.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barns x y/n #firsteveroneshot

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candle-sparking · 19 days

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How about all the birds from undertale! Yellow versions? :) In one picture!

Ink!martlet ---@chromatasia Marlette in cowboy style ----@underswapyellowofficial Marlet....with a big beak? ---@howlonomy

FNAF Martlet ---@thatsafuckeduptale Marlet in a raincoat ---@zedleaked Marlette in a red jumpsuit and a huge glove --- @akanemnon Marlette with flight goggles and bandana --- @isaacz Martlet!Fell ---@pantamonte Martlet!Outer --- @starrameee Martlet!Deltarune --- @metavandetta23 Martlet!Rotation --- @arcusnoel Martlet in the helmet of the royal guard :D --@eeveemaster22 Martlet!Hollow --@floataaaa Martlet like Toriel ---@martlet-my-beloved Martlet in armor ---@splatwav Martlet Pokemon -- I lost the author :( Martlet in brown overalls---I lost the author :( Martlet Boy -- mine

But now I understand that more versions of this beautiful bird have appeared... but I already took a picture, so there are only 18 birds

(I hope there are two authors of the two birds I lost...)

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artechoceneexplorer · 9 months

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Remember that wheel I posted like half a month ago? I finally finished it!!

Now here's some close-ups with the characters that are featured in it :>

Red section!! Featuring Garnet from Steven Universe, Red from The Sea Beast, Hornet from Hollow knight, the Scarlet Caviearer from Bivaltopia and a pointy creature by Equiëtum ❤️🍄❤️

Orange section!! Featuring Calcifer from Howl's Moving Castle, Enoch from Over the Garden Wall, The Core from Amphibia, Rahang Besar from Project Temere and the Pomegranate King by Miguel11to.

Yellow section!! Featuring Bill Cipher from Gravity Falls, Jake the Dog from Adventure Time, the Plasm Wraith from Pikmin 3, the protagonist of Abzū, the Pangaloon from The New Dinosaurs and Amphinatans mirabilis from Polinices 💛🌟💛

Green section!! Featuring Kermit the Frog, Diamondhead from Ben 10, Link from Skyward Sword, Tighnari from Genshin Impact, the Emerald Bombardier from the Dragonslayer Codex and a Samara Fairy by samuelele_draws 💚🍀💚

Cyan section!! Featuring Rika from Pokémon, a Na'vi from Avatar, the Flish from The Future is Wild, the Giant Severateel from Sinedey and Furcagnathodon from the Kiatra project 🩵🐬🩵

Blue section!! Featuring Stitch, Modecai from Regular Show, Shiver from Splatoon 3, Dory from Finding Nemo, the Inkilatura from Tales of Kaimere and an aquatic sapient from Scylios 💙🌀💙

Purple section!! Featuring Amity Blight from The Owl House, Chameleos from Monster Hunter, Double King by Felix Colgrave, Thanos, the Amoebic Sea from Darwin IV and the Violet Bunting from the Birds of Novasola 💜👾💜

Pink section!! Featuring Nimona, Al-An from Subnautica: Below Zero, Kanroji Mitsuri from Demon Slayer, Perfuma from She-ra, an Axolotl from Minecraft and Apocleavis magnifica from the The Future is Far project 🩷🌸🩷

The B/W and final section!! Featuring Tui and La from Avatar: The Last Airbender, Spiderman Noir from Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse and Umbragrus huxlwyi from the Dragons of the World project 🖤🐧🤍

Hope you like it, took me like a month to finish :")

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montereybayaquarium · 11 months

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🌊💙An ode to the ocean’s collective clusters 💙🌊

In the animal kingdom, there's something unique, A special way to describe when animals meet, It's the world of collective nouns, that are quirky and fun, Describing groups of animals with more than one.

♨️A smack of jellies. Related to the potentially painful smack of a jelly’s sting. Jellies belonging to the phylum cnidaria have stinging cells called cnidocytes. These stinging cells eject a hollow, harpoon-like structure that penetrates the flesh of unsuspecting prey and releases a venom that can cause an uncomfortable, burning sensation.

🐧A tuxedo of penguins. Penguins have black and white coloration—like a tuxedo. This countershading is used to camouflage them from predators viewing them from above and below—think looking up at the sunlit surface and not being able to see the penguin’s white belly or looking down toward the seafloor and trying to make out the penguin’s black back.

🎪 A circus of puffins. The Atlantic puffins have bright orange feet and red tips on their beaks. This gives them the comical appearance of a clown—with bright shoes and a red nose. This term was adopted for the entire circus of clown birds!

🥑Then there's the collective noun we made up for a guac of molas—no explanation necessary.

Tell us your favorite collective noun!

#Monterey Bay Aquarium #Waddling Into The Weekend #Puffin Pals #A Smack Of Jellies Is Our Jam #Make Guac Of Molas Happen!

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ginovasims · 4 months

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THE SEASONS LEGACY

A mini legacy challenge that focuses on the four seasons. Each generation will have a different set of goals and requirements before the new heir takes over.

Rules:

Pick any three of the five traits offered for each generation, and one of the two aspirations. For an extra challenge, you can try and complete both aspirations.

This challenge contains a lot of gameplay from a variety of expansion, game, and stuff packs. Feel free to skip or adjust any rules if you are missing content.

If you do this challenge, please credit me (@ginovasims).

Vague guidelines/suggestions:

The heir can be any gender, they don’t have to be female. They can also be any sexuality.

Children don’t have to be genetic, they can be adopted, and you can have science babies.

Mods and custom content can be used.

Use the hashtag #SeasonsLegacy on tweets, posts, and videos. Check out my video where I introduce the challenge in more detail: https://youtu.be/j0R4fVdiLfI

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THE GENERATIONS

Generation 1 - Spring

Spring is the season for new life and new beginnings, so what better time to start a new family legacy?!

You make the most of the weather warming and enjoy spending time outside with animals. Fresh is best and you won’t settle for anything that’s not the best quality, in all aspects of life. Your true love is out there and you won’t stop looking until you find your perfect soulmate.

Requirements:

Date around before finding your soulmate and settling down

Meet your soulmate at a park

Always keep your home in pristine condition

Raise chickens and/or a cow/llama

Befriend a rabbit and/or a flock of birds

Buy groceries from market stalls in Henford-on-Bagley

Win a competition at Finchwick Fair

Frequently have picnics in the park

Discover Sylvan Glade and/or Forgotten Hollow

Gain the hungry for love lifestyle

Always have the simple living lot challenge

Celebrate Spring Festival and go all out with decorations and festivities

Complete the insect and/or decorative eggs collection

Reach the top level of any outdoor based career (e.g. gardener, conservationist, lifeguard etc.)

Master two of the three skills: fishing, herbalism and flower arranging

Complete either the Country Caretaker or the Serial Romantic aspiration

Colours: Pink and Green Traits: Neat, Romantic, Cheerful, Perfectionist, High Maintenance Aspirations: Country Caretaker or Serial Romantic

Generation 2 - Summer

Did someone say beach party?!

Growing up, you spent a lot of time outdoors with your family, and you loved every second of it. You’re both laid-back and the life of the party. The sea calls your name and you always make the absolute most of your summertime memories.

Requirements:

Throw weekly parties (at the beach if it’s good weather!)

Frequently have BBQs in the garden

Frequently go bowling with friends/family

Have a sun tan as often as you can

Go camping at least twice as a young adult

Have a pool in your garden

Have swimming as a hobby

Meet your lover at the beach

Build sandcastles with your children

Gain the people person lifestyle

Always have the volcanic activity lot challenge

Celebrate Summer Festival and go all out with decorations and festivities

Complete the seashell and/or message in a bottle collection

Reach the top level of any active career (e.g. actor, doctor, police etc.)

Master two of the three skills: dancing, mixology and bowling

Complete either the Beach Life or Party Animal aspiration

Colours: Yellow and Red Traits: Dance Machine, Party Animal, Loves the Outdoors, Child of the Ocean, Outgoing Aspirations: Beach Life or Party Animal

Generation 3 - Autumn/Fall

The spooky season is among us…

You’re more of a homebody than your parents and grandparents and prefer to spend time tucked up at home, reading a book by a warm fire. You’ve always been interested in the supernatural, believing them to be fictional your whole life, until discovering one day that there’s more out there than you could ever have imagined.

Requirements:

Turn into any occult

Marry a different type of occult

Always own a black cat and encourage them to have kittens (with success) at least twice

Earn a distinguished degree

Join a university club/team

Throw a costume party every other week

Light fireworks at bonfire nights

Have a family club gathering at least once a week

Write children books and read them to your own children

Gain the indoorsy lifestyle

Always have the spooky lot challenge

Celebrate Autumn/Fall Festival and go all out with decorations and festivities

Complete the space prints and/or postcards collection

Reach the top of any mental/academic career (e.g. education, secret agent, scientist etc.)

Master two of the three skills: medium, vampire lore and research & debate

Complete either the Spellcaster & Sorcery or Bestselling Author aspiration

Colours: Orange and Purple Traits: Bookworm, Insider, Overachiever, Creative, Cat Lover Aspirations: Spellcaster & Sorcery or Bestselling Author

Generation Four - Winter

Life is like your own winter wonderland!

You grew up with your whole extended family around you and so this has become a very important part of how you are. Your family are everything and you want to treasure every moment and memory. Food is another big part of your life, and you relish in spending time in the kitchen with your loved ones.

Requirements:

Have a blended family (e.g. step children, adopted, etc.)

Bake with your partner/children every weekend

Always gift your household members a present for the holidays

Play outside whenever it’s snowy - build snowpals, make snow angels, have snowball fights etc.

Go ice skating on every first date

Always have a caged pet for your family

Have perfect relationships with all of your children - spoil them!

Decorate your house with family pictures

Gain the junk food fiend lifestyle

Always have the gremlins lot challenge

Celebrate Winter Festival and go all out with decorations and festivities

Complete the snow globe and/or simmies collection

Reach the top of any stay at home career (either freelance or always choose work from home option)

Master two of the three skills: knitting, baking and photography

Complete either the Mt. Komorebi Sightseer or Big Happy Family aspiration

Colours: Blue and White Traits: Gloomy, Family-Oriented, Foodie, Materialistic, Childish Aspirations: Mt. Komorebi Sightseer or Big Happy Family

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puddleorganism · 1 year

Text

Ok people went feral over mini Jimmy so I’m dropping more on your doorstep like gifts from a feral cat

In the last one I wanted to be curious about some red stone Tango was working on so I threw in one of my headcanons that there are tools for handling redstone since it’s probably not the safest to get a bunch of weird magic dust all up in your business

[Image IDs: all the images are drawings of a tiny golden harpy (Jimmy), roughly the size of an actually canary. He’s got long tail feathers and wings, which are a lighter gold than the rest of him. He’s completely covered in feathers aside from most of his face, and his hands and legs which are covered in grey scales. At the wrist joint of the wing he has little bird-like 4-fingered hands. He also has long feathered ears. In the first image he’s sitting on the ground hugging the face of Deputy Norman, a fluffy white cat with a deputy badge that has his name and a paw print on it pinned to a blue ribbon that acts as a collar. In the second image Jimmy is curled into a tiny ball in Tango’s hand. His hand is the only part of Tango pictured, here. Jimmy is resting his head on the meat of Tango’s palm causing his cheek to squish. He’s sleeping. In the third image Tango’s arm is pictured holding a hollow metal pen-like object that’s filled with redstone from Minecraft. It’s being used to draw lines of redstone. Jimmy is perched on the back of Tango’s wrist, his itty bitty little talons curled over it. He’s angled to the left, but his head is turned towards the redstone curiously and there’s a little question mark above his head. He’s wearing his tiny cowboy had with a blue ribbon and gold pendant. End IDs]

#jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #team rancher #rancher duo #bro he’s so little #his old design was bugging me that’s why this one’s different lol #I don’t know whether to tag tango because he’s just some hands lmao #oops forgot some #empires season 2 #hermitcraft empires crossover

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sorrowfulrosebud · 1 year

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I got idea from your keiko story. What if reader somehow meets kid shigaraki?

ANON. I WANNA KISS YOU SO BAD. (Consensually of course)

Content: reader finds kid Shigaraki and takes care of him (sobs)

Genre: angst, a lot of fluff tho so it cancels out

“Okay, do I have everything? Keys, purse? Yep, looks like I do,” you reassured yourself as you set off to the store. The looming thought of the hot summer sun sent ironic shivers through your body, days lolling about on the couch sleepily when your boss wasn’t demanding every second of your time.

You locked the door hurriedly, determined to stock up on essentials, as well as some treats for your kitten, and set on your way. Your earphones nestled comfortably in your ears, drowning out the whines of crying children and rowdy school students by blaring your favourite music. It was a beautiful day nonetheless, birds twittering softly as the sun beat down on you. Your bag thumped lightly against your side, providing a steady rhythm alongside your music.

The trek was relatively easy; the local convenience store wasn’t even a 10 minute walk from your house and you were soon on your way back to your beloved princess kitten, Freya, with an armful of essentials (plus a few goodies). Music thudded from your earphones noisily, distracting you from looking properly where you were going until you nearly fell over from an unknown obstacle.

“What the hell?!” You were ready to cuss the fucker out, until you looked down.

A small child, couldn’t have been much older than six years old, stared emptily back. No. The look wasn’t empty. It was hollow, as if a child was stuck in a body it didn’t belong in. His hair was a beautiful powder blue, long and stark. It was ashy too, and slightly greasy. You assumed it was from days, possibly weeks, of parental neglect. Some of the thicker strands were matted at the back, and his fringe fell heavily over his face.

When your eyes connected, something shattered deep within your chest. Small orbs that would normally be filled with tears at the idea of being lost were totally empty. Despite the lack of emotion on the poor boy’s face, you could see some small flecks of red amongst the vast space of white.

Blood was everywhere; on his face, deep in his eyebrows, caked under his nails that he held oh so tightly. The poor baby was in trouble, and you were desperate to know why. You removed a headphone and crouched down, placing the plastic bags gently either side of you.

Each move was tentative and slow, like the shivering lamb in front of you was going to bleat and run away.

“Hey there sweetheart, are you lost? Did you lose your parents?” You questioned him softly. The boy tightened up at your question, before tears started to fill his waterline. His hands wrung tightly against each other before lifting one up to scratch his neck.

“I-I didn’t mean it!” He choked out. The tone of his voice caught you severely off guard; instead of being soft or rowdy like a regular child, he sounded strained. Not unlike nails on a chalkboard, you found yourself flinching. The scratching grew more intense as you looked on in anxiety.

“Woah, hey little guy! You could really hurt yourself doing that!” You brought your arm up to stop him scratching, before flinching backwards due to a blood-curdling scream.

“NO, PLEASE DON’T!!” He shrieked, hands covering his grimy face and fell to his sides. The petrified baby was trembling profusely despite having fallen to the ground in his fear. Tears dampened his once dry and crusty cheeks, little torso shaking in heaving breaths.

A beetle that was pottering near his hand’s disintegrated immediately, and the dots started to connect. You paused; you had to be careful about this.

“Okay, sweetheart. I promise I won’t touch you, but you might change your mind after you hear my quirk. Do you want to know what it is?” You remained on his level. Slow, and gentle. Like taming a wild kitten.

This seemed to rouse the boy from his oncoming anxiety attack as he looked at you tearfully. He seemed to consider the idea, before nodding his head dolefully. A large grin overtook your features as you presented your hand.

“My quirk is called equilibrium. It means that I can balance out quirks and maintain a constant state. In exchange for being able to being ‘immune’ to quirks, I usually end up with a killer migraine that lasts a few days. It normally depends on how strong the quirk is, so I don’t really use it a lot. Isn’t that cool?!” You asked him excitedly.

The boy looked at you with curiosity. You let out a small chuckle.

“So, what I’m saying is, you can touch me and I won’t disappear. I promise you,” you solemnly swear to him, extending your pinky finger. Tenko looked at it in pure fear, almost as if the devil himself tainted it.

“I understand that you’re frightened, but you’re dirty, walking around the street with no shoes. I want to help you,” you whispered to him gently. Tenko seemed to light up at your statement.

A tiny pinky extended to you, trembling but still willing. It wrapped itself around you, and you almost shuddered at the texture of his skin. Nonetheless, you continued to loop your fingers around his small hand until you were fully holding his hand. Tenko stared at you with tears pricking his eyes again. He could… touch you?! You smiled softly.

“I told you, see? You can’t hurt me,” you promised. Tenko couldn’t help the tears that trickled down his malnourished cheeks as he dove into a hug. Your eyes widened; just what the hell has this poor baby been through? Your arms shifted under him to cup him closer to you.

“Do you want to come to my house? It’s not that far, so we can get you cleaned up, fed and then find out what to do with you,” you murmured into his ears. Tenko thought for a moment before nodding, his shaggy hair tickling your cheek.

Tenko rearranged himself to wrap his arms around your neck as you grabbed the bags that you previously dropped and nestled his legs around you.

==================================

The journey was only 10 minutes, and yet Tenko had dozed off on the way. His small snores rumbled softly in your ears as you fiddled in your pockets for the keys. Tenko jolted awake at the sound before realising where he was.

“Mph, are we there yet?” He whined sleepily, dry fists rubbing against his eyes. Your cat meowed at the new smell in her home, shaking the sleep off and meowing indignantly.

You set Tenko down with a slight grunt; carrying a small child and 3 grocery bags was not an easy feat. You knelt back down to Tenko’s level and gently rested your hand on his shoulder.

“Now, I need to know your name. I think it’s silly that we don’t know each other’s name, so let’s introduce ourselves before we start calling each other sillier nicknames,” you giggled, earning a small smile from the boy.

“I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you,” you said warmly, holding out your hand. Tenko paused before giving you his hand back.

“I’m Tenko Shimura,” he mumbled back.

“Well Tenko, I think you need a bath. Am I alright to run you one?” You asked him. He thought for a moment before nodding his heavy head.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

==================================

The bath water was an absolute godsend to Tenko’s fractured body. The soothing smell of your cherry bakewell scented bath gel calmed Tenko’s nerves as he glanced around the bathroom.

“Is the water alright in there, sweetheart? It’s not too hot is it?” You shouted from your bedroom, gathering soft fluffy towels.

“N-no. Its… nice, thank you,” he tried shouting back, voice cracking. He observed the bath water as he waded his hands through it. Once clear as diamond, the water slowly shifted to a murky brown. Chunks of dried blood dropped into the water, splashing back into Tenko’s face. He let out a whimper; he must look disgusting.

Your soft rapping at the door brought him out of his thoughts.

“Tenko? Am I alright to come in, little lamb? I can help you wash your hair if that’s okay?” You asked him gently.

“U-um… yes please,” he nodded back. You opened the door and smiled at him to reassure his jolting nerves.

“You’re certainly looking cleaner, little lamb! Look at the colour of the tub!” You giggled before feeling your heart pang at the tears forming in Tenko’s eyes.

“Oh no, I’m sorry sweetheart. I didn’t mean to make you upset,” you rubbed his hair to comfort him. Tenko’s eyes grew wider as he started to sob louder in the tub. The feeling of something so simple as rubbing his head when he’s sad was so alien to him. God, you hated whoever did this to him.

“That’s it my little lamb, let it out. That’s a good boy, just cry until you can’t any more,” you crooned sympathetically, rubbing his head and wiping away tears.

And so, Tenko did just that. Cried. He cried until no more tears would come out, he cried until his head started to hurt, he cried for everything. For his mother, for his sister and for Mon. And oh, how he cried for his dog who provided more comfort than any member of his family.

==================================

When Tenko woke up again, he was bundled up in blankets on a couch that felt worlds different than the leather one at his house. This was soft and warm, with needlefelt and crocheted cushions. He lifted his sleepy head up before jolting his hands away. But the crumbling of the couch never came.

Tenko glanced down and was met with a small pair of winter gloves, cut so that Tenko’s fourth and pinky finger were concealed.

“Ah, you woke up! You worried me for a second there, little lamb. You kinda passed out on me in the bath, so I cleaned you up and bundled you up on the couch,” you rambled on as you set down a glass of milk for him.

“Here sweetheart, drink up. You must have hurt your voice badly,” you nudged it to him as he readjusted himself comfortably.

“T-thank you,” he mumbled brokenly, voice still strained from all of the crying. He took the first gulp before realising just how thirsty he was. Next thing you knew, the glass was empty as Tenko huffed and puffed.

“Wow little lamb, you must have been thirsty, hmm? I’ll bet you’re hungry too?” You guessed. Tenko nodded his head quickly, scared that you’ll pull back your offer. You smiled at his slight change of demeanour.

“That’s alright, I’ll go make you something now. How does Katsu curry sound?”

Tenko’s eyes lit up.

“T-that sounds good thanks,” he mumbled happily, playing with his fingers shyly. You nodded at him and told him to get comfortable.

As you cooked, Tenko remained on the couch and looked around. Your apartment was cozy, filled to the brim with trinkets and photos of your friends and family. Soft knitted blankets dotted around the room, a large scratching post for your cat as well as numerous toys.

Tenko jumped as he felt a slight shift in the couch. The small black, white and grey cat he saw earlier was staring at him, sizing him up for a moment before nestling into his side. She kneaded the blanket that pooled around his knees, purring away.

Tenko thought for a moment before tentatively stroking the gap between her ears, pleased when the purring increased tenfold.

“I see you’ve become friends with my cat,” you giggle as you present two steaming bowls.

“She’s lovely,” he murmured shyly, petting her a little more confidently. You hummed in acknowledgement as you set the bowls down as well as some cutlery.

“Now, eat up. Then, we have to go to the police and see what happens next,” you smiled at him as ice flooded his blood.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. Nothing is going to happen to you. You’re only a child, and you clearly didn’t mean to kill anyone. I’ll have to check if you have any more family that can take you in,” your tone softened as you looked at Tenko’s face.

“I-I don’t have anyone else. A-all of my f-family was in the… the-,” he started crying again, gloved hands coming to reach his neck. You took his hand in yours and rubbed it soothingly, before lifting him up and placing him in your lap. Tenko buried his face into your neck and sobbed whilst you stroked his hair.

“I know, little lamb, I know. If that’s the case, then I’m going to look into adopting you myself, if that’s what you want?” You looked at him as you asked him.

Tenko’s eyes lit up before dimming again.

“B-but my quirk hurts people. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. I’ve already hurt so many people,” He whimpered. Your heart ached looking at the young boy.

“My quirk is perfectly compatible with yours, and as long as you wear those gloves then you have no reason to worry. You’ve already seen just how mean people can be with people with a quirk like yours. If you stay with me, then I can protect you and help you,” you lifted Tenko’s chin to meet his eyes.

“Sweetheart, it’s a cruel, mean world for people who society deem ‘villains’. You have been hurt and ignored by these people, and I want to make sure that doesn’t happen again. You’re only a small boy, you didn’t deserve what happened to you. It’s not your fault. It was never your fault. I can help you learn to control your quirk to prevent accidents like this again. I know it hurts now, but we can get through this. I’ll be there for you every step of the way.”

Tenko flung himself deeper into your chest and sobbed until his throat was raw. In the past few hours, you had shown him such kindness that it overwhelmed him, on a level that only his mother dared display. Throughout the day, you had a warm glow radiate from within you. Tenko knew he wouldn’t have anyone else look after him.

You cuddled Tenko closer to you as he settled down.

“Now, let’s eat before the food goes cold,” you smile.

“Okay mama.”

==================================

“Tenko? Tenko, hurry up! You’re gonna be late for your first day!” You yelled up the stairs to your adopted son.

“I know, ma! I can’t find the extra pair of gloves you gave me,” he yelled back, rootling the Eraserhead backpack you gifted him. It was his first day at UA Hero Academy, and your nerves were just as shaky as his. He eventually found them, relieved at the sight as he readjusted his tie agitatedly.

“Do you have everything? Lunch, your creams, your throat spray?” You fussed over him, straightening his tie and smoothing his blazer lapels.

“Damn ma, you were rushing me out the door and now you’re gonna make me late,” he groaned, but cracked a light smile.

You looked at him. He had improved so much since you first took him in. His hair was cleaner, his skin had better creams, his lips were smeared in soothing lip balms and his allergies were nearly a thing of the past. The thought of the young, helpless boy you took in using his once destructive power for the better of society brought tears to your eyes.

“H-hey, don’t get all emotional ma! What’s the matter?!” He fussed, stopping when you smile at him.

“I’m so proud of you, Tenko. More than you’ll ever know. Now, go be the best hero that anyone has ever seen in UA!” You wiped your tears as you hugged your son, feeling him tremble slightly in return.

“Thanks ma. For everything.”

#tenko shimura #baby tenko #shigaraki tomura #tenko shimura x reader #NO COS POOR BABY #FUCK HIS DAD FR FR #ALL MY HOMIES HATE KOTARO #shigaraki x reader #hic #sob #he deserves the entire world #my baby #I want to cuddle him so much #play with his hair and tell him he’s alright :(#tomura x reader #platonic tomura x reader #platonic tenko x reader

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