#there is a strong connection to another battle

[natalyarose]

𝓚𝓾𝓻𝓽 𝓒𝓸𝓫𝓪𝓲𝓷 - 𝐵𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝒜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓎𝓈𝒾𝓈

warning: very, very long lol

I wanted to create an in depth chart analysis on someone, and it had to be someone famous whose life I knew well. I honestly don't keep up with celebrities much, but the obvious answer to me was Kurt. When I was an angsty, hurting, misunderstood young teenager, he had my whole heart. I came from a very 'pristine' upperclass neighbourhood, yet my home life was a battle ground. In my childhood, I didn't meet a lot of people like me who were also hurting or have been to dark places (or at least, nobody would talk about it), so someone as raw as Kurt & a sound as unapologetic as Nirvana was like an oasis, I felt love. I sort of grew out of the 'obsession' with him as a person, but I still remember the way Nirvana and Kurt's imprint on this Earth made me feel. I was utterly intoxicated. The music, the poetry, the eyes, the passion, the pain of an outcast, the sarcasm, the anger at injustice... magic.

So without further ado, let's delve into Kurt's chart. I'm going to try to talk about the key things I notice. I'll be applying Ernst Wilhelm's Dhruva Galactic Center Ayanamsa (on Astroseek, Galactic Center mid-mula).

Moon in Punarvasu

Let's start with the Moon, typically considered the most intimately personal planet in Vedic Astrology. It actually takes some adjusting for me to see Kurt as a Punarvasu Moon since in Lahiri he is Ardra and I think he's sort've become a 'poster child' for the moody, edgy, destructive nature of Ardra. Even I used him as a prime example of Ardra in a video a few years ago... but I realise now it makes perfect sense. He is still very Rahuvian, which I'll further explain in a bit.

First of all, we're looking at the Sidereal Gemini section of Punarvasu-a brilliant mind, comedic, a writer, a communicator, and as we know a musician. I see Punarvasu's Jupiterian nature in his kindness, gentleness and intense loyalty to his values when it comes to protecting & advocating for the innocent. Kurt was very protective of women and children and despite his 'rockstar' image, was humble and always seeking to use Nirvana's music to advocate for social change. I know this behaviour can be seen as Rahuvian in nature, but I actually think this perception comes from misunderstandings from the Ayanamsa issue. Rahuvians can absolutely take an interest in social/political protest, but often Rahu natives prefer to 'play the game' and find purity and order in the chaos & illusions rather than actively push for expansion (Jupiter) and change.

As seen through various forms of literature & media documenting his life, Kurt had a tendency to look out for & befriend underdogs- a common trait of Jupiterians.

Another thing to note is that Jupiter rules sound. A strong Jupiterian placement gives an extremely powerful sonic presence. Kurt was an amazingly versatile singer, his ability to alternate between soft, melodic vocals & raspy, fierce, powerhouse metal-esque vocals was- is, phenomenal. The emotion and meaning conveyed in his voice is felt vibrantly even when the lyrics are muffled (famously, Nirvana lyrics are hard to understand lol).

The gentle nature of Kurt's Punarvasu Moon really shines through in these photos I love. Not to mention, Punarvasu being the Cat yoni! Kurt adored his cats. He also adored his daughter, in the sadly, short time he spent with her, in interviews and photos taken around the time we get a glimpse of his love and tenderness.

Physically, yes, Kurt has very Rahuvian gorgeous eyes, the 'scruffy' look that's typical of Rahu men, etc. - but look at his chin! Jupiterian natives are easily identified by their prominent chins (Jupiter connecting to the voice places an emphasis on the chin/throat area). Not to mention his hair- Cat yoni Nakshatras often give very sleek, smooth hair like a kitty cat. I know a few Punarvasu men with that kind of hair.

Punarvasu Nakshatra is often connected to imagery of angels. A lot of famous photos of Kurt depict Angel-esque wings in the background. Nirvana's album 'In Utero', depicts the figure of a woman with angelic wings. I see the Punarvasu angelic effect in the way I often see people remarking that Kurt was 'too pure for this world'.

One more distinctly Punarvasu theme I want to mention - Punarvasu's mythology is all about second chances, 'trying again'. Before Nirvana, Kurt started a band called 'Fecal Matter' (lol, wonderful). The band fell apart, but then came Nirvana. It is said that Punarvasu natives always get a 'second chance' or that things come in twos.

tw//

Another much sadder manifestation of this theme: As talked about in 'Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck', as a teenager Kurt Cobain attempted suicide. He heard a train was coming then went and lay on the tracks. It turned out that the train went on the other track. I guess you could say he got a 'second chance' in a way.

As we know, his life ended through suicide :(

Kurt's Punarvasu Moon sits in his 10th house, considered the house of career, the public eye and ambition. This makes perfect sense and is a very common placement to see in celebrities. With Moon in the 10th house, the emotions and internal nature are on display to the public in some way, which is true for Kurt. The native is radiant and marvelled at in their vulnerability of spirit- the 10th house and MC can be seen as the sky, and when Moon is in the 10th, everyone is looking up at you, enchanted.

His Moon is quite close to Jupiter. Most people would say it's too far to be a conjunction and technically it is, but I have a very open mind when it comes to aspects- especially aspects to the Moon! The faster changing the planet, the more sensitive it is to surrounding planets. I would argue that the Moon can feel influenced by planets close to a whole sign away (I'll have to make a seperate post on this at some point).

Anyway, Jupiter being close to Kurt Cobain's Moon only enhances his Jupiterian qualities. Jupiter on (or near to) the Moon can amplify the intensity of a person's emotions and internal convictions.

Jupiter also relates to spirituality - Kurt explored different religious structures (Christianity, Buddhism, etc.) at various points of his life, which makes makes sense considering his Jupiter ('Guru', spirituality, faith) is in Pushya, a Saturnian (restriction, structure) Nakshatra. Pushya is also known to be the 'birth of sadness' amongst the Nakshatras.

Ascendant in Uttaraphalguni (conjunct Pluto & Uranus)

Of course, in traditional Vedic Astrology the outer planets aren't used, but I incorporate them; especially when they're this prominent in their positioning- Kurt has both Pluto & Uranus very closely conjunct his ascendant, Uranus & ASC forming a 0° orb. While amazing, it is very typical to see this or similar astrological placements in the charts of people who've had a major impact in this world! While the inner planets are more personal, the outer, slower moving planets speak of the masses. Outer planets are generational, showing their influence in major trends and global events.

Kurt having these outer planets so close to his Ascendant speaks to how powerfully influential he has been on our world. He's inspired not one, but now many generations of youth with his image, his legacy.

It is not uncommon for people with Pluto on the Ascendant to become famous for their death which rings true for Kurt. A lot of people who may know not much else about him or Nirvana, know of his death and the tragedy surrounding it. Pluto gives him a natural intensity.

Uranus on the Ascendant speaks to a person who is eccentric, erratic or somehow unusual. 'Alien-like'. Kurt is often praised for his unique, unconventional mind and approach to his artistry. The first house being intimately related to how a person dresses & represents physically, Kurt dressed in many controversial ways, often to make a statement on political issues (wearing dresses for example).

It is no wonder Kurt's ascendant is in Uttaraphalguni, a Sun ruled Nakshatra. Sun ruled Nakshatras are radiant and tend to make natural leaders. He was of course, the frontman or the 'face' of Nirvana. Uttaraphalguni tends to be very good natured, but no-nonsense. Especially in the Virgo section. Uttaraphalguni natives are often kind in my experience, but have little tolerance for lack of efficiency which is true of Kurt, who held his bandmates to a strong standard. This Solar objectivity of knowing what's up to standard and what misses the mark is likely a big reason for Nirvana's huge success! Kurt was known to be somewhat ruthless or at least, very particular in how he wanted things to go in the band. (also a trait we see in Venusian Nakshatras; Kurt having Rahu in Bharani).

Sun Nakshatras tend to bless their natives with a natural sense of ease and comfort. The unapologetic authenticity Sun Nakshatras radiate means it's not uncommon to see these people as pioneers in whatever their field is. Nirvana was a huge catalyst and made a name for themselves in the genre of 'grunge', but Nirvana continues to inspire all kinds of artists to this day.

Kurt having his ascendant in Uttaraphalguni made him a naturally magnetic person to women and men alike. People are extremely drawn to the warmth, loyalty and genuine nature of Solar natives.

Authenticity was a value held in extremely high esteem for Kurt. It was typical for him to do things like, playing songs Nirvana was told they couldn't play, just for the principle of it. While I mention Kurt's exploration of religion earlier, Kurt rejected the Catholic concept of God very strongly. He despised what he saw to be unfounded control over others' being, creativity & sexuality.

Sun Nakshatras are self made: they lead, others' follow/take inspiration.

A very good friend of mine showed me that people with strong Solar influence in their charts photograph very well in black and white because of their energetic radiance (they shine so brightly, they don't need colour to stand out). It also can be attributed to the fact that Sun Nakshatras tend to give strong and sometimes sharp & chiseled features. Another interesting thing is it's not uncommon to see Sun people with natural golden yellow-y streaks through their hair, which is true of Kurt Cobain.

Sun in Shatabisha

Shatabisha is the all seeing eye. It is the Nakshatra pertaining to secrets & the collective unconscious. Shatabisha natives are very tapped into the minds and emotions of the collective. They can be natural born mystics, very hyper aware of 'behind the scenes' or 'under the surface' societal themes.

A lot of Shatabisha natives are extremely cognizant of social & political issues. While I believe it is moreso Jupiter Nakshatras that take on that strong drive to actively make noise and make a change, Rahu is the observer, Rahu sees what is the issue. Hence Shatabisha translating to '100 healers'. Rahuvians will often dress or behave in unusual or eccentric ways, as if to show the world they cannot and will not be placed into a box of any kind. I mentioned earlier Kurt dressing and portraying himself controversially in ways such as wearing dresses, very aligned with Rahuvian nature.

Rahu/Shatabisha's sensitivity and attraction to altered states of perception (the all seeing eye wants to see the world from many angles) means that there is often a natural inclination to explore substances. A lot of Shatabisha natives I've met in real life engage in some form of escapism be it through gaming, drugs, or even sugary foods & energy drinks that give that hit. This is especially the case for Rahu influenced men rather than women, because the slightly more feminine nature of Rahu can feel less natural to men. They may feel they have a harder time dealing with the challenges/expectations related to being a man in society when they are influenced by such a flowy & feminine force. They feel themselves being the observer rather than the 'do-er' and it can cause self-esteem struggles. However, Kurt's other placements (namely, Jupiter & Solar influence especially) helped to give him a natural ability to be more hands on in life.

Of course famously & tragically, Kurt got lost in his addictions and his mental health deteriorated. I'm sure we can't blame the entire tragedy on Shatabisha energies and there's more in his chart we could look into to understand why/how this came to be, but looking broadly at patterns of Rahuvian men, we can understand the theme.

Shatabisha natives have the ablitiy make amazing art; the sheer vastness of their minds and Rahu's receptivity to external influences means that they have a wealth of ability to take in inspiration from others, then transform it into something unique and out of this world!

Every Shatabisha native I've met knows EVERYTHING there is to know about the artists, books, fashion, YouTubers, etc. they are interested in. They often have physical collections, and are very keenly attuned to pop culture (or just media in general). I've met a lot of Shatabisha natives who have a very specific genre/subculture they take interest in and know everything about, yet they still know everything about 'mainstream' culture too. Idk how they know so much lol, but I believe the all seeing eye effect of Shatabisha makes it easy for them to take in that information very efficiently.

We see this incredible art & knowledge of culture in Kurt, who was openly a fanatic of many other artists and referenced who and what he knows time and time again in his music.

Kurt's Shatabisha Sun is in his 6th house, meaning these energies are especially highlighted when it comes to his everyday life, day to day employment, etc. which we know is true seeing as he was a musician.

One of Kurt's first girlfriends used to be the 'breadwinner', and Kurt would stay home and paint or write music.

Also in his 6th house is Mercury in Purvabhadrapada- Mercury rules over the intellect, communication, thoughts. Kurt was known to be very moody and somewhat unpredictable. Purvabhadrapada's symbol is a man with 2 faces, so an unpredictable and dualistic quality can be see in the way he expresses himself. Mental health struggles can definitely be seen with this placement. Being the height of Jupiter, we also see a more aggressive form of Jupiterian challenging of limitations & societal expectations in Purvabhadrapada, which we do see with Kurt.

Uttarabhadrapada 7th House Stellium

Kurt Cobain has Venus, Saturn & Chiron in the 7th house.

The 7th house is the house of marriage, partnerships, business and other people. I learnt that the 7th house is associated with fame, as when you are famous you know a lot of people/are viewed by the people. Also, achieving fame often has more to do with connections, contracts, and partnerships than it does to do with ambition & talent alone. So it makes sense that a famous person would have a strongly lit up 7th house.

Looking at photos of Kurt, I'm noticing how Saturnian he appears- the symmetrical features, 'stern' look. That also can be attributed to him having a prominent Sun Nakshatra which gives a 'stoic' nature, but Saturn really comes through as well. He is also very Saturnian in his rulebreaking tendencies- Saturn Nakshatra men tend to have a strong internal moral code but love to break rules that they don't deem to be rules that are there for a good reason.

At 19, Kurt spray-painted 'God is Gay' and was arrested for it. He did this to irritate homophobic people, homophobia being something he stood strongly against having had a very close friend in school who was gay.

Uttarabhadrapada in particular is an extremely intense Nakshatra. It's related to sacrifice & suffering in the name of providing for the greater good, being the cow yoni (as cows provide milk). It's symbolised by the death bed. This is eerie knowing of his suicide, but beyond that I think it really fits with Kurt's views on fame. He didn't necessarily enjoy being famous or plan to become as big as Nirvana did, but in a way being that famous is sacrificial. The media milked him and his life in whatever way they could as they do with most uber famous people.

The 'suffering', Saturnian starvation and sacrificial themes in Uttarabhadrapada have a natural connection to the story of Jesus, which of course we see Kurt depicting Jesus on the cross in the Heart Shaped Box music video. A beautifully poetic song.

Venus being the planet of beauty, love, art, and femininity, means it is very important to look at in the chart of an artist, and Kurt's Uttarabhadrapada Venus being conjunct Chiron really speaks to how a lot of Nirvana & Kurt's songs speak of pain and suffering. Chiron is 'the wounded healer'- it is said that where your Chiron is can be where you have the power to help or heal others, but struggle yourself.

Of course, Kurt's 7th house Uttarabhadrapada stellium reflects his infamous relationship with his wife Courtney Love, very well. Kurt's ascendant is in sunny, jovial Uttaraphalguni, and many are of the opinion that Courtney or at least, the relationship really dragged Kurt down and wore down his psyche sadly. I don't like to speak too badly of anyone, but a lot of people see Courtney as a huge influence on Kurt's deteriorated physical and mental health. They would exasperate one another's drug issues, both struggling to stay clean even with a baby in the picture.

Courtney is really painted as a villain by many which is very Uttaraphalguni-Uttarabhadrapada axis... Uttaraphalguni is the shining Sun, Uttarabhadrapada is the dark, cold depths of the ocean... also, ice. This perception is rampant, many viewing Courtney as a manipulative 'psycho', some even theorising that Kurt's tragic death may have been a homicide of her doing.

You could even say that Courtney is the Uttarabhadrapada 'sacrificial lamb'; her own reputation taking a drastic hit so that the image of Kurt as blameless for how things ended can live on. Of course, it could be read the other way around in that Kurt was the 'sacrifice' in this relationship. Either way, these energies are present.

These photos of their wedding (famously, Kurt is in his pyjamas lol) in Hawaii are actually very Uttarabhadrapada in nature- the stormy dark weather and the ocean outside. The Sun is feint in the background- perhaps could be interpreted as symbolic of Kurt's Uttarabhadarapada 7th house (of marriage) drowning the light & joy of his Solar ascendant. Not that they had no joy together, but more that together they were headed down this dark path.

Rahu in Bharani/Ketu in Vishakha & Mars in Swati

Being a Shatabisha (Rahu ruled) Sun, Rahu in Kurt's chart becomes extremely significant being a depositor.

Rahu in Bharani is I imagine, at the root of a lot of Kurt's artistic interests. Kurt had a fascination with life & death, life in the womb, & the female anatomy, all Bharani themes. The most obvious example of this being Nirvana's album literally being called 'In Utero'. Also, there is a Nirvana song literally titled 'moist vagina' lol, a personal favourite actually (I find it so sexy & raunchy in an odd way haha)

Another thing that comes to mind is Heart Shaped Box- after Lana Del Rey (Bharani Venus & Rahu) covered it, Courtney Love revealed that the song was about her vagina lol...

Ketu in Vishakha can speak to obsession and drive, Vishakha being 'the Star of Purpose'. This is an extremely strong willed and potentially very artistic placement for Ketu. Vishakha is ruled by Indra, King of the Gods & Agni, the God of fire. Indra ruled over storms and rain. Ketu in Vishakha gives way to very intense emotions and a very powerful drive to create and fulfil what gives the native that sense of purpose. For Kurt, that was his music. I'll note that this means Kurt has a Grand Trine in the three Jupiter Nakshatras -

Moon in Punarvasu, Ketu in Vishakha, Mercury in Purvabhadrapada

A grand trine in a chart can point to someone possessing a unique gift or ability that comes effortlessly to them. As mentioned earlier, Jupiter rules the voice & sound in general. Jupiter rules expansion, growth. The weakness of Jupiter comes with overindulgence, going too far into the deep end. While Saturn willingly goes into the deep end through sacrifice & limitation, Jupiter can drive itself into dark places with its sheer lack of limitation.

_

Mars in Swati is at first glance, a very gentle Mars as Swati is ruled by Vayu, God of the Wind. It is not an angry Nakshatra perse, but it can be extremely cutting and 'quick with words' as it is the butcher caste. Of course, Kurt was a poet at heart.

One of Swati's main mythologies (to make it short and sweet) is about a boy who impressed the Gods with his bravery and abilities, and was then blessed with powers. However, the boy was a mischievous child always causing pranks, so for his 'naughtiness' he was then cursed to forget his story & his powers. However, later down the track he was reminded of his powers and his past.

This story highlights Swati's tendency to be extremely self-doubting of their own capabilities. They have 'forgotten' their powers and need to remember. Swati natives really struggle with feeling as though they aren't 'enough' and just like the story, really need people in their life who consistently remind them of their abilities and what they're capable of.

Kurt was known to be very self-deprecating in this way, often doubting his abilities and and despising the way he looked (also something we see with Chiron conjunct Venus).

Swati also gives a playful and childlike nature, often taking an interest in dolls, cartoons and other playful novelty things which is true of Kurt.

IC in Mula, MC in Mrigashira

Lastly, I'm going to briefly talk about Kurt's IC-MC axis.

The IC represents the childhood, home life & inner/private self. Mula is the final Ketuvian Nakshatra, and translates to 'roots'. Mula's primary motivation is truth, getting to the honest root of things regardless of whether it's pretty or not.

Mula for this reason is a Nakshatra associated with destruction, because the truth will often break absolutely destroy the ground of faulty foundations in society.

As the IC, this could represent a situation where in the household, this child acted as the whistle-blower of truth and saw through the family dynamics + were outspoken about what they saw. This rings true of Kurt, he was seen as somewhat of a 'problem child' at home and was outwardly, vocally embarrassed and unhappy with the turbulent family situation.

So at Kurt's core inner self, he valued truth. He would rather an 'ugly' disturbing truth than a beautiful lie.

The MC represents a person's outer persona, the identity and values the person wishes most to present to the world. Mrigashira is the birth of Mars. Mars is the maverick, the rebel, but also the fighter.

I definitely see that society at large had this perception of Kurt that he was this martian, aggressive person in some ways; especially taking the emotion and lyrics put into him & Nirvana's music at face value.

Mrigasira Nakshatra is known for being a 'troll', and Kurt trolled the media a looot. I think of that time in Nirvana when he intentionally butchered Smells Like Teen Spirit. Or him mocking the media's constant gossip about him like in this clip '...dead, pregnant, on heroin... I'm a hermaphrodite as well!' lol.

I'm going to finish this analysis here, this ended up being very long, but I hope it was interesting for someone! It was good practice for me... it also reminded me why I don't do readings anymore lol, I love astrology but... man. This was just the icing on the cake too!

Thankyou for reading ♡

#vedic astrology #nakshatras #astrology #chart analysis #kurt cobain #sidereal astrology #astrology observations

[o-lanterns]

Simon Petrikov the Episode... I know Simon's the star but I can't stop thinking about Finn.

Seeing firsthand just how badly his grief over Jake has messed him up. All of his progress in emotionally connecting with himself and with others essentially went down the drain. He can't process anything outside of the lens of epic questing. His idea to help Simon is to put the man in mortal danger for the purpose of rescuing him and never once considered that Simon could be seriously injured or killed, because of course Finn the Human is too strong! This is nothing to him, his job is to fight and protect. And when Simon does actually get hurt Finn shrugs it off. Ahh, that's just another battle wound, nothing fatal! It'll be a cool scar!

He is literally not coping but he thinks he's doing great. And it breaks my heart that it's all so... Martin-like of him. He cannot have back what he lost and he responds by bottling it and pushing through jovially as if unaffected, and in turn does not register anything as a true threat anymore because in his eyes nothing could be worse than what has already happened. He is all jokes and rowdy hubris and "Hey now, talkin' about sad stuff gets ya nowhere! Forget about it!"

Finn is just living thrill to thrill and clinging to distractions in between (and trying to find someone to fill the hole where Jake was- we saw him taking on Bronwyn as an adventure partner in Obsidian and now TV. but they don't stick. it's never going to be the same.) and we already know from Together Again that he will maintain this behavior until his last breath.

It's fantastic character writing but I am so distraught at the state of my boy.

#I'm. OUGHHHHH RHHHH. AAAAHHHH #adventure time #at spoilers #fionna and cake #finn the human

[springtyme]

farleigh start x f!reader

make it based on the party scene where he sniffs the “nose candy” off the girls hand

PLS THE FARLEIGH GIRLS ARE STARVING😫

𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 ♡

Thank you for the request ♡ I know you didn’t asked for smut per se, but I got a little carried away. I hope that’s okay, and hopefully can help feed the Farleigh girls a little ♡

Farleigh Start x afab!reader || Masterlist || Farleigh playlist

summary: You can’t help but feel a rush of conflicting emotions as you stand before him. Part of you wants to turn around and walk away, to avoid the inevitable clash that always seems to occur when the two of you are in the same vicinity. But another part of you, a part that you try to keep buried deep within, is drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

word count: 4.5k

warning/tags: smut! (18+, mdni!) Language. Drug use (cocaine). Vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, blowjob, cum swallowing. Enemies to lovers (kinda?). I had pan4bi in mind when I wrote this, but readers sexually didn’t really end up getting mentioned, but Farleigh is definitely pan/queer like in canon. This whole thing kinda started out as one thing but turned into something completely different, so just to clear any possible confusion, Reader is best friends with Venetia, being childhood friends with her and Felix, and that is how she knows Fairleigh. Reader are enrolled in a university in Cambridge, unlike Fairleigh who is in Oxford. No proofreading.

The dimly lit room is illuminated by a dazzling array of colourful lights, flickering and dancing in sync with the music. The deep reverberations of the bass are sending tremors through your body, a pulsating rhythm thumping within your chest, and even piercing your eardrums, but in the best way possible. 

The scent of spilled drinks and way too expensive perfumes and colognes are hanging in the air, mixing with the distinct smell of sweat that, no matter what, or no matter how rich you are, you’ll never be able to avoid when this many people are in one place, drinking and dancing at once. It’s filling the space with a raw, primal energy, an energy which you can feel resonate within you, right into the very marrow of your bones. 

You find yourself surrendering to the music, letting it guide your every movement as you roll your hips to the beat, grinding against the solid body behind you, enjoying the feeling of big strong hands on your waist. You don’t know his name and you like it that way. You’ve been needing this, it’s finally summer, you’re finally on break and away from Cambridge and you have every intent of enjoying it to the fullest. 

As you let yourself be carried away by the music and the pulsating energy of the room, your eyes wander around the crowd. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, your gaze meets the eyes of someone familiar, someone you had hoped to avoid, despite knowing it wouldn’t be possible. 

As your gaze locks with his, a mix of emotions floods through you. A wave of annoyance washes over you, quickly followed by a surge of frustration. 

Fucking Farleigh, the embodiment of everything you despise, stands across the room, his tall frame towering over the crowd. He’s always been a thorn in your side, pushing your buttons and challenging you at every turn. The tension between you has always been palpable, a constant battle of wits and wills.

The memories of countless arguments and bitter exchanges flood your mind, reminding you of all the reasons why you can’t stand him. Farleigh, with his arrogant smirk, like he always knows something that you don’t know, and his condescending remarks, has always managed to get under your skin. And now, here he is, invading your sanctuary of escape. 

And yet, and this is something you would never admit out loud to anyone, you have always felt strangely drawn to him, a magnetic pull that you’ve never been able to fully understand. A complicated connection, really, filled with both desire and deep annoyance.

You tear your eyes away, trying to regain your composure and ignore the magnetic pull drawing you towards him. You focus your attention back on the music, trying to lose yourself in its enchanting melody and forget about Farleigh’s presence. The pulsating beats and the heat of the body pressing against yours conspire to distract you, urging you to let go and revel in the moment. You move with more intensity, swaying your hips and allowing your body to glide effortlessly with the rhythm.

But despite your attempts to ignore him, Farleigh’s image persists in your mind, and it is as if you can feel his piercing eyes on you, burning your skin. The curiosity battles with your annoyance, leaving you conflicted and uncertain.

As the music reaches a crescendo, you can’t resist the pull any longer. With a mix of defiance and determination, you break away from the stranger behind you, making your way through the crowd in Farleigh’s direction. Not because you want to speak to him, of course not, you just want to find Venetia, Farleigh just happens to stand right next to the door.  

As you approach Farleigh, you can’t help but notice the way his eyes follow your every move. A flicker of amusement dances in his gaze, as if he knows the effect he has on you. Just as you’re about to pass him, Farleigh steps in front of you, a sly smile playing on his lips, the strobe lights flickering across his face, highlighting his features with pink and purple, and you feel how a warm flutter swoops through your stomach. Someone who is that annoying really don’t have any business being that handsome. 

You try to step past him, but he moves with a frustrating grace, blocking your path once more. “What do you want, Farleigh?” you huff, your tone laced with impatience. 

But he doesn’t answer you at first, instead, he just keeps the weird little dance going, with you trying to push past him to get through the door, and him stepping in front of you, blocking your way, until you finally take a step back, glaring up at him and you can’t help but feel a rush of conflicting emotions as you stand before him like this. 

Part of you wants to turn around and walk away, to avoid the inevitable clash that always seems to occur when the two of you are in the same vicinity. But another part of you, a part that you try to keep buried deep within, is drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and it fucking frustarites you.

His voice, when he finally speaks, is a low, velvety whisper that resonates deep within your core. “Long time no see,” he says, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The scent of his cologne invades your senses, stirring up a confusing mixture of attraction and deep irritation. 

With a deep breath, you muster up all the strength you have and respond, trying to match his nonchalant tone. “I was actually hoping to keep it that way,” you reply, crossing your arms.

Farleigh’s smirk widens slightly, and you can see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Well, that I find a little hard to believe. We are in my house, aren’t we?” he remarks, leaning in closer, his voice dripping with a hint of sarcasm.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, knowing that it would only fuel his satisfaction. Instead, you take a moment to study him. His sharp features are highlighted by the colourful lights surrounding you. Despite your frustration with him, there’s no denying that he has a certain magnetism that draws people in. “I wouldn’t exactly say it’s your house.” You retort, raising an eyebrow. “More like uncle’s house, isn’t it?”

Farleigh chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “Touché,” he says, his voice laced with amusement. “But you can’t deny that it’s my domain.”

You scoff, unable to resist a small smirk. “Domain? More like your little playground.”

His eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of challenge in his gaze. “Funny, because I always thought you were the one who loved a good game.”

The air between you crackles with tension, the familiar dance of wit and banter that has always characterised your interactions. Despite your annoyance with Farleigh, there’s a part of you that thrives on the exhilaration of this verbal sparring. “Maybe I do, but I have no interest in playing with you.”

Farleigh’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by a look of genuine curiosity. “No interest at all?” he asks, his voice laced with a hint of intrigue. “I find that hard to believe. You’ve always seemed to enjoy our little tête-à-têtes.”

You resist the urge to let your guard down, refusing to let him see how much his words affect you. “Just because I enjoy a challenge doesn’t mean I enjoy dealing with you,” you reply, your tone sharp and dismissive.

Farleigh’s gaze intensifies, his eyes searching yours as if trying to uncover a hidden truth. “Is that so?” he says, his voice low and velvety. “Because I have a feeling there’s more to it than that. I think you actually enjoy the tension between us, the push and pull.”

You scoff, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that his words are hitting too close to home. “You think too highly of yourself,” you retort, attempting to sound unaffected by his observation.

Farleigh takes a step closer, his presence seeming to fill the space between you. “Maybe,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I also think you’re intrigued by me. Admit it, there’s a part of you that wants to know what it would be like to give in to that pull.”

Your heart races at his words, a mixture of anger and desire swirling within you. “You’re delusional,” you snap, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

Farleigh’s expression softens, his eyes searching yours with a newfound tenderness. “Am I?” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. The intensity of his gaze leaves you momentarily speechless, your mind racing to make sense of the conflicting emotions coursing through you. You’ve spent so long trying to resist him, to keep him at a distance, but now, in this moment, it feels impossible to deny the undeniable connection between you.

Farleigh leans in closer, his breath warming your ear as he speaks. “You can pretend all you want, but I see right through you.” His voice is laced with a mixture of confidence and mystery that sends a shiver down your spine. Suddenly, all the people around you disappear, the only thing that matters in that moment is the charged tension between you and Farleigh. It’s as if you’re existing in a world of your own, completely detached from reality.

You can’t resist the pull any longer. “Oh, can you now..?” You murmur, slowly, you reach out your hand to wipe a stray piece of glitter away from under his eye, letting your thumb gently graze his cheek. His eyes darken with a mix of surprise and anticipation, his lips parting slightly as if attempting to say something. But before a single word can escape, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his in a passionate, desperate kiss. 

Everything around you fades away as the electricity between you ignites, the world falling away as you become enraptured by the intensity of the moment. All the pent-up frustration and desire explode in that single act of surrender and defiance.

In this moment, you can no longer deny the complicated connection that exists between you. The magnetic pull, the mix of desire and annoyance, it all becomes clearer as you lose yourself in the kiss. The room around you becomes a blur, the music and the crowd transformed into mere background noise.

The kiss breaks, leaving you both breathless and gasping for air, but the connection remains. You meet Farleigh’s gaze, a smouldering fire burning in his eyes. And in that silent exchange, the tension and chemistry between you cannot be ignored any longer. 

Farleigh’s lips curl into a satisfied smile, his eyes never leaving yours. “I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he whispers, his voice husky with desire.

You raise an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and defiance in your expression. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” you retort, trying to regain your composure. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

Farleigh’s smile widens, and he takes a step closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “Oh, it means something, alright,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a tantalising promise. 

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, a rush of anticipation flooding through you. As much as you want to deny it, there’s a part of you that craves the excitement and intensity that comes with being with Farleigh. You know it won’t be easy, and there will be challenges along the way, but you can’t help but be drawn to him.

With a mix of determination and vulnerability, you lean in closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “Fine, it does mean something,” you whisper, your voice filled with both defiance and longing. As the words escape your lips, you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. The intensity between you and Farleigh has reached its breaking point, and you both know it. Without saying a word, you take Farleigh’s hand and lead him out of the room and through the big, crowded house searching for a place of solitude, finally finding it in the form of an unoccupied bathroom on the second floor. 

The sounds of the party fade into the background as you step inside, the quietness amplifying the intensity of the moment. Farleigh takes a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “Are you sure you want this?” he asks, his voice low and filled with a mix of concern and desire.

You meet his gaze, your own eyes filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I want to find out.” 

Farleigh’s lips curl into a knowing smile, the fiery desire in his eyes never wavering. He takes another step closer, closing the distance between you, his hand inching up to gently cup your cheek. You can feel the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin, electrifying every nerve in your body.

In that moment, any last doubt or hesitation you might have felt fades away as the intense pull between you becomes undeniable. You lean into his touch, closing your eyes and letting yourself get lost in the moment. His thumb caresses your cheek, and his voice, filled with a mixture of longing and assurance, whispers, “I’ll make it worth it.”

A surge of anticipation courses through your veins as Farleigh’s thumb brushes against your lips, tracing their outline with a delicate touch. Without even thinking, your own hand finds its way to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. The air around you is heavy with desire and expectation.

As your lips collide once again, the passion between you ignites, consuming you both in a fiery haze. The bathroom echoes with the rapid beating of your hearts and the soft gasps that escape your lips. Farleigh’s kiss is both tender and intense, his lips moving against yours with a fervour that matches your own. This single act of surrender has unleashed a whirlwind of emotions, leaving you craving more. 

You start to walk backwards, until your back gently bumps into the vanity cabinet of the sink, without breaking the kiss even once. You first break the kiss as Farleigh’s hands find your hips, helping you jump up the counter. Your already short dress, hiking even higher up your thigh as you spread your legs to let him step in between them. “You got any nose candy?” you pant, making Farleigh chuckle, his breath warm against your lips as he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“I think you already know the answer, don’t you?” he replies, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and desire. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small vial of white powder and setting it on the counter.

He carefully measures out a small amount of the powder, offering it to you on the back of his hand. You take a deep breath, feeling a rush of nerves mixed with excitement. With only a very short flicker of hesitation, you lean in, snorting the powder through your nose. The effects are immediate, a surge of warmth and euphoria washing over you.

Farleigh takes your hand, putting the vial to it to make a line for himself, but you stop him before any of the coke has left the container. “No, here.” You say, placing your hand behind you on the counter and leaning back, exposing your bare collarbone, inviting him to snort the line off your skin. Farleigh’s eyes widen, clearly liking your suggestion, his gaze locked on the vulnerable expanse of your skin before a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, lining up a stripe for himself.   

As he leans in, his breath tickles your skin. His fingers, delicate and precise, trace the line of the cocaine on your collarbone before he leans down, his lips brushing against your skin as he inhales the white powder. A shiver races through your body at the touch of his lips against your sensitive skin, the combination of the drug’s rush and Farleigh’s proximity sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You both linger in this moment, caught between desire and the heightened state induced by the substance. Everything in the bathroom seems to fade away as you focus on the connection between you and Farleigh - the electric current that flows between your bodies, the shared need for a temporary escape. Farleigh pulls back, his eyes dark and heavy with desire as he locks his gaze with yours. 

“Come here,” you all but moan, making him chuckle. The lingering scent of his luxurious cologne fills the air, prompting you to inch closer on the countertop, savouring every breath of him. You reach out, pulling Farleigh closer as you crash your lips together once more, the kiss growing even more passionate and heated than before. And as the kiss deepens even more, Farleigh’s hands start to explore your body, one trailing up your thigh while the other gently cups your cheek. Your own hands roam eagerly over his frame, feeling the heat and power emanating from him.

The bathroom becomes a blur of sensations, the feel of his hands on you, the taste of his lips on yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne surrounding you. Time seems to lose all meaning as you lose yourself in the moment, giving in to the intoxicating combination of pleasure and desire. As he finally breaks the kiss, his lips trail a path down your neck, leaving a trail of sweet kisses in their wake. The heat between you builds with each passing moment, every touch and caress leaving you craving for more.

As Farleigh’s lips find their way to the sensitive curve of your collarbone, you let out a soft gasp, a jolt of pleasure shooting through your body, his touch igniting a fire within you. His hands roam over your thigh, inching higher and higher, until he reaches the delicate fabric of your now soaked panties, carefully teasing and brushing against your most sensitive area. Your breath hitches in anticipation as his touch sends a surge of arousal coursing through you.

Unable to contain your desire any longer, you guide his hand to where you need him most, sliding your panties to the side. His fingers waste no time in exploring, gently parting your slick folds and finding your throbbing clit. Soft moans escape your lips as he circles his fingers around your sensitive bud, the pleasure building with every stroke. “Damn, you’re so wet,” he whispers huskily, his voice laced with desire. His fingers skillfully dance along your swollen nub, expertly coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. 

The bathroom becomes a sanctuary of pleasure and intimacy as Farleigh expertly works his fingers, gradually increasing the rhythm and pressure. You tilt your head back, surrendering yourself completely to the ecstasy flooding your senses. You arch your back, pressing yourself closer to his hand, eager for more. The need for release consumes you, the overwhelming sensation heightening with each passing second. Farleigh, ever attuned to your desires, gives you exactly what you crave. His fingers quicken their pace, increasing the pressure against your throbbing clit, using his other hand to push, first one, then two, fingers into your craving cunt, pumping into you, while still working your clit. 

Lost in the blissful haze, you feel your walls tighten around his fingers, signalling your imminent release. Every touch becomes electrifying as you chase that elusive peak. And when the wave of pleasure crashes over you, it’s all-consuming. Your body trembles with the force of your orgasm, your moans echoing off the bathroom walls. 

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he whispers, his voice raw with desire as he continues to ride out your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure with his skilled fingers. He keeps his touch steady and relentless, expertly drawing out every ounce of bliss from your pulsing core. It’s a relentless dance of pleasure and sensation, leaving you gasping for breath as the ecstasy courses through your veins.

Farleigh withdraws his fingers, the absence of his touch leaves you yearning for more. He brings them to his mouth sucking off your juices. “Fuck… you taste good, I think I need to get a better taste, baby” he smirks. 

“Please, Farleigh,” you hate that you’re begging, but fuck how you need more of him. “N-need more…” you squirm a little in your seat, squeezing your thighs together in anticipation. Farleigh smirks again, unlike you he is clearly very glad to hear how pleading and desperate you are for him. 

He sinks to his knees before you and slowly pulls your soaked panties down your legs, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable before him all the while keeping eye contact with you. Without a word, he leans in, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin. His lips brush against your inner thighs, teasingly light and gentle, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you. As his mouth moves closer to your throbbing core, you grip the edge of the counter, desperately trying to steady yourself. 

The anticipation is almost unbearable, the teasing kisses and licks making you ache for more. Finally, his lips press against your clit, his tongue immediately finding its rhythm as he expertly swirls and flicks, drawing moans of pleasure from deep within you. Each flick of his tongue sends shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, building the pleasure to dizzying heights. He alternates between delicate licks and sucking motions, knowing exactly how to drive you wild. The sensation is overwhelming, and you lose yourself in a haze of pleasure. 

The sounds of your moans fill the room, your pleasure echoing off the walls. You can feel the pressure building inside you, your climax approaching rapidly. And just when you think you can’t hold on any longer, the dam breaks, and you surrender to the powerful waves of your orgasm. Stars explode behind your closed eyelids as your body convulses with pleasure, your voice reaching heights you didn’t know were possible. 

Farleigh doesn’t let up, continuing to lap at your sensitive clit, prolonging your ecstasy until you’re completely spent. As the waves of pleasure subside, he pulls away, a satisfied grin on his face as he looks up at you, his lips glistening with your essence. You struggle to catch your breath, your entire body still trembling from the intensity of your release as Farleigh gets up from the floor. You close your eyes for a second, as you take in the reality you’re living in now, a reality where you have been eaten out by Farleigh fucking Start, and now in this moment you almost can’t recall why you ever disliked him.  

As your body slowly comes down from the heights of pleasure, you open your eyes again, breathing heavily, to find Farleigh staring at you with hunger in his eyes. His own desire is evident, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. Reaching out, you grab hold of his shirt, pulling him closer. “Your turn,” you say, your voice vibrating with anticipation.

A mischievous smile plays on his lips as he realises what you have in mind. Without a word, he unbuttons his shirt, revealing a toned chest. He shrugs off his shirt, allowing it to fall to the floor as he confidently steps out of his shoes. Every movement he makes is deliberate, a display of raw sensuality that only intensifies your desire for him.

With a mixture of excitement and confidence, you jump down from the counter and step toward Farleigh, your legs feel like jelly, but you don’t let that stop you. Your hands find their way to the waistband of his pants, fingers skillfully unfastening them. As his pants pool at his feet, you run your hands up his muscular thighs, feeling the contours of his body beneath your touch.

Your gaze flickers upward, locking eyes with Farleigh, the intensity in his gaze mirrored in your own. Without breaking eye contact, you drop to your knees, fully engulfed in the moment. You trail kisses along his inner thighs, teasing and taunting him. His breath hitching with every kiss, the anticipation in the room building with each passing moment.

As you reach his hardened cock, you wrap your fingers around him, feeling his heat and the pulsing desire that emanates from him. He is big; girthy, with a nice vein lining the underside of his shaft. Your tongue flicks out to taste him, eliciting a low growl from his throat, before you pool spit in your mouth, letting it fall from your mouth and down his shaft. With a combination of skill and eagerness, your mouth encloses around him, the heat and wetness enveloping him. 

As your lips slide up and down his length, you can feel him growing even harder, his breaths becoming more ragged. You use your hand in synchronisation with your mouth, working him tirelessly, determined to bring him to the brink of release, moaning around his cock while breathy praises leaves his mouth.

The bathroom becomes a symphony of moans and heavy breaths as the pleasure builds between you. Your lips and tongue work magic, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. And when he finally succumbs to the overwhelming ecstasy, he spills himself into your waiting mouth, his moans of pleasure echoing off the bathroom walls.

You take him in, savouring the taste of him as his release warms your mouth as you swallow him up. It’s an act of trust and vulnerability, something you, just an hour ago, could never have imagined to be between the two of you. As he finally catches his breath, his hands gently lift your chin, guiding you back to your feet.

Your eyes meet, a shared understanding passing between you. “You know, uh…” you start, Taking in a deep breath. “Venetia asked me to stay for a bit, I’ll be here at Saltburn for the next two weeks.” you whisper, letting the implication of your words hang in the air for a moment.

Farleigh’s eyes widen with surprise, a mixture of excitement and hope flickering in his gaze. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you can see the longing in his eyes.

“Two weeks?” he repeats, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and anticipation. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

You smile, a mix of mischief and desire in your gaze. “I’m saying that we have two weeks to explore this... connection between us,” you reply, your voice filled with a tantalising promise. “But let’s make one thing clear, Farleigh. This doesn’t mean that I like you now,” and you hate how it isn’t really true. 

Farleigh’s smile widens as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “I guess I have two weeks to change that.”

Thank you for reading! If you want, please leave a comment or reblog to let me know what you thought of it ♡ also request for my 1k follower event are open :)

#springtyme writes #farleigh x reader #farleigh fic #farleigh start #farleigh start x reader #farleigh start x you #saltburn fic #saltburn x reader #farleigh x you #saltburn fanfiction #farleigh smut #saltburn smut #saltburn fandom #farleigh saltburn #farleigh catton #saltburn movie #saltburn 2023 #farleigh imagine #saltburn imagine #drabble #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #saltburn #farleigh x y/n #farleigh start x y/n

[yandere-toons]

Matthew Patel

Romantic Headcanons – Yandere

WARNING: violence, death, implied stalking, mentions of religious concepts, toxic mindset.

From the moment you invite Matthew into your life, he will carry that memory to his deathbed. The bond you forged that day is unbreakable and immortal for him: he will go blind to all other reasons for living, consumed with rage at your absence, and ecstatic at any sign of your favour.

Talk of other suitors sends Matthew into a frenzy from which he will not emerge until this obstacle to his happiness is laid low. Dispute over the value of certain traits leaves Matthew resentful—of himself for not being better, of the other person for possessing what he lacks, and of the universe for cursing him with such horrid luck.

When such a person speaks your name, Matthew is driven by his own insecurities to loathe them. The sound of their voice becomes like a cheese grater to his ears, a reminder of how close he is to losing his world for the second time, and from thence into a sound he will fight to the death to silence.

The look of this person, particularly when they light up at the mere mention of you and receive such a look in kind, is a ghastly thing. Matthew's takeaway is one of doubt and bad memories, of all the similarities to Ramona's waning interest that he had been too immature and inattentive to rectify. He vows not to make the same mistake twice.

Seemingly overnight, Matthew transforms from a brooding presence lurking in your shadow to a wellspring of offers to solve even the smallest of issues. He makes a habit of dropping to one knee and delivering a Pagliacci-esque soliloquy about how deep his affection runs, professing that you've become his whole world and that to lose you would leave him with nothing.

Despite your promise not to "betray" him, as Matthew so graciously puts it, he fears it would be a mistake to let his guard down. He believes you were sincere at the time, but Ramona's flippant attitude has left him anxious that you may change your tune and turn your back on him for no apparent reason.

For years, Matthew sought answers as to why she hurt him: on bad days, he blames her for playing with his emotions; on worse days, he blames himself for not trying hard enough to become someone she wanted. Now that he has another shot at human connection, this earth will burn before it slips away from him.

Matthew's actions arise from a peculiar sense of justice: he views himself as retribution sent down upon all those who have wronged you. By daring to replace him, their way of looking after you is inherently and unforgivably flawed. Someone who could, in reality, be quite decent will devolve in his mind into a parasite who takes advantage of you.

Whether they are cruel or kind-hearted, what obsesses Matthew and keeps him stewing for potentially years is the notion that they've robbed him of his one chance at happiness. So long as they keep you company, he sees his future darkening.

What should be a private affair, Matthew turns into a spectacle: he takes to the stage in his most flamboyant attire and declares war, goading his enemy to meet their doom at his hand. Everything, from the venue to the battle itself, is a power play, a performance art in which he displays his prowess for all to admire and envy.

Once he has struck the first blow, there is no version of events where Matthew shows mercy or admits defeat. The harder they fight, the prouder he is to butcher them. Their death will be a triumph, a testament to the fact that he is strong enough to win this war. Anyone who rolls over in the face of his challenge must not be truly committed to you and therefore deserves to feel his wrath for stringing you along.

Coming to over the shiny remains of his enemy, Matthew forgets his rage and revells in the thought of having the sole being who brings him happiness. Ready to pick up where he left off and confident he's earned that right, Matthew throws himself at you and proclaims how thrilled he is to be together again.

Matthew struggles to move beyond the past and to envision a future where he is alone. Having spent much of his life pursuing others, Matthew has no concept of living for himself. He stakes his survival on the volume of applause at the end of every performance, and in the home environment, his tendency to cling to petty recognition has taken root in all interactions.

This emotional hunger reveals itself in the unnecessary extremes to which Matthew proves his devotion, convinced that the obsequious nature of his company and continual sacrifices gives them meaning. He jumps at every opportunity to be near you, no exceptions, afraid that missing even one will be termed neglect and spell the ruin of his life with you.

At his best, Matthew is an unrelenting thespian who serenades you with ballads and calligraphic poetry. But at his worst, he is an unstable and violent creature full of pent-up rage, who conspires with Daemonettes to bind your soul to his, making it virtually impossible to give him up for another.

Do anything you want with my work, but never make me boring!

#Matthew Patel #Scott Pilgrim #Scott Pilgrim vs the World #Scott Pilgrim Takes Off #Imagines #Reader Insert #Yandere #X Reader #Yandere x Reader #Yandere Imagines #Yandere x You #Yandere Headcanons #Gender Neutral Reader #Scott Pilgrim x Reader #Matthew Patel x Reader #Yandere Scott Pilgrim #Yandere Matthew Patel #Yandere Writing #Fanfiction

[herseraphwings]

18+ A Glimpse Into The Most Intense Sexual Encounter Of Your Lifetime😈💦🍆🍑

It's been months & I had to step away from Tumblr to focus on business! I'm sorry to those who took the poll and didn't get the readings! Here is a steamy pick a card to make up for it. Hopefully I can contribute more pick a pile's to this side of Tumblr more consistently now!

Copyright 2024 © Tellot Tarot

All original works posted on this platform are copyrighted. Unauthorized use or reproduction without permission is prohibited. This pick a pile/image/card is meant to give you an idea of what the most steamy and intense sexual encounter of your life will be. This encounter could be at any point! Enjoy!

Minors DNI!!

✨This will be a creative writing pick a card✨

 Pile #1

Your Song: Love Is Stronger Than Pride - Sade

Prime Lyric: “I can’t hate you, though I have tried.”

It's a shame this is happening here. 

The cold of the marble countertop against your exposed skin sends quivers up your spine and frissons of blessed goosebumps across the curve of your rear. A warm but equally gentle and rough hand cups your derriere while twin digits grip your jawline. Timeless lips suckle at your needy neck as you draw in unsteady breaths, grasping at the walls to support the arch of your back. Thick, honeyed lust pools lower and lower with the current of your strong but fluttering heart, drawing your thighs together like aching soft magnets. Just a few minutes ago, there was gnashing of teeth and an attempted divergence witnessed by the Gods as a spectacled exchange of bitter thoughts raised like christened knives against your throats. 

It was the supposed last stand. The conclusion of your story, where you're completely, utterly, officially separated.

But as you both faced off on your war-torn battlefront for the last time, you were ambushed. Your armageddon was due to rear its ugly head and place the four horsemen of pride, betrayal, uncertainty, and, sadly enough, money issues on all sides of your connection. But surprisingly, those demons watched from up high. For the Devil always has a trick up its sleeve. This isn't the first time you've launched into battle and escaped bloodied. But it is the first time the warzone has turned sanctuary- nestling you, cuts, bruises, and all to its tempting bosom. 

What better way to fight than to fuck?

Now, your limbs are entangled while you paw at each other, vulnerable and mutilated by past sins in the bathroom of a mutual acquaintance. Hands you caressed and caressed a million lives over now grab you with need. A need for understanding. Atonement. Rehabilitation. A need to strip you even more bare than their painful words could leave you because it's you. It's always been you. You're the one that chips at their inescapable pride. 

You do this to them- challenge them to be better and tear them down to be much worse when they've failed you.

Heady kisses trace down your neck to your collarbone, all the way down, planting seeds of love; another could never hope to see bear tempering fruit like they could, down to where the heat of all you could ever want and need rests eagerly within the cage of your thighs. "

“Open your legs.”, They look up to you and whisper; their voice tickling you with vibratory lust. 

As you part, you feel teasing nips and pecks mark your sensitive skin with seductive swirling licks to echo, shifting deeper to the core of your desire until a pleasant moan escapes you.

You're not sure if you'll leave your tryst hand in hand or even on the same accord, but you at least know one thing. You both can rip profound emotions out of the other- deep from the marrow. Day or night. Spring or fall. You won't worry if that's a good or bad thing for now because as they beckon your climax to greet them at the edge of their greatest weapon against you, the past pain loses its power. 

Every precise movement of their tongue is like perfect jolts of electricity through your body. Fuck they know you so fucking well. 

Their soft lips and hums of pleasure in pleasuring you are where the true power lies. The sensual dance of their fingers strokes at your sweet spot, but the sudden rustle of the door knob snaps you back to reality. Shit! You shouldn't be doing this here. Before you allow sense to overshadow the moment,the heat builds as your moans grow more intense. You're grateful for the ruckus on the other side of the wall. You sense them smirk beneath you and lock eyes with an individual who is determined to pluck at the strings of your desire until they're taught, and muffled screams rain down on them in a frenzied zenith. Passerby be damned. Once they've drunk enough of you, you'll be ready to return the favor with equal vigor. 

This moment is a storm. Just like your love. A great and terrible storm. Strong enough to tear through villages of memories built on the foundations of a long connection. And just like you have weathered many before as enemies and lovers, these moments provide enough energy to brace yourselves for inclement weather. 

The soul beneath you loves you harder as you writhe, faster, stronger until your beautiful climax hits you like a truck. 

It's such a fucking shame this is happening here. 

You see red. Are you back on the battlefield?

The Devil rises slowly to lay a peck at your ear and whispers, "There's a thin line between love and hate."

Notes: 

This person is may come off as moody or too passionate for others. You have been together for a while at the time of this experience.

At the time of your encounter they are struggling with money.

You are separated, but attempt to find common ground at a social event

This may be the direct doing of a friend. 

I don’t subscribe to the concept of twin flames personally, but this person may truly be your twin flame.

Your relationship with them at the time may be so deep that any little act that may harm the other can blow up to extremes because the feelings run too deep. There’s so much passion!

Thank you for allowing me the honor to read/write for you, Pile 1!✨ Follow for more readings like this!

Pile #2

Your Song: Hours - FKA Twigs

Prime Lyric “ Who’d have thought, I’d be in your mouth, loud and clear?

I once read that the best love stories are the ones that start with two people who can't stand each other.

 At the time, I thought it a stretch of fictitious delusion. Understand me, Rosaline. I've had my fair share of entertainment from the comedic tropes I've watched on my various screens and read in books, but that's because the hands that pressed pen to paper or finger to keyboard behind the scenes knew how to write a good story. 

There is power in prose. 

We can all agree that the prodigal hate fuck always satisfies an audience. But that's not real to me. 

How you eclipse the moonlight of the bedroom window to stand naked before me as the birth of Aphrodite itself is real to me. It's more vivid than any lucid dream or waking hallucination I could conjure in my insanity for you. How you languidly stalk towards the edge of the bed and make prey of me as your supple breasts softly and teasingly bounce is real to me. 

I've never known anyone to be so graceful as they lower themselves to their knees. 

The throbbing ache of anticipation you draw out of me as your hands open the gate of my thighs, and your beautiful face rests at the threshold of me is real to me. That first gasp-inducing sweet lick followed by the sacred scent of your hair penetrating my nostrils is intoxicating. And, the taste of me on your lips as you pause to greet me before you take me to church is so enchantingly real.

Why? Because the most striking and tangible things of this world aren't isolated to what we can experience with the five senses. It's the things that shake us, move us, change us, and stir something profound within us that is true. We don't even have to understand the why at first. 

And oh, how you stir the most primal and obsessive urges within me. 

I raise a quivering hand to caress your crown as you lick, nip, and tease my most erogenous areas, but you smack my hand away in a warning. Your eyes pierce mine, and you remind me that you are untouchable. 

You remain as unattainable as the day I met you. 

In the beginning, that side of you was cruel. You were so severe. So chaste. A person who seemed to constantly move the goalpost as I chased and chased. Our story was an epic on the destructive nature of gravity. I wanted to be your orange moon as your sunlight cast down upon me, but your pull always threatened to consume and scorch me if I dared to neighbor you. Your glares were like ice, and your mouth spat fire at anything that had something to do with me. It must have been something that I said. But I was no child, and neither were you. We cut the bullshit and found the necessary 60 seconds to get clarity. 

Now, we're very clear on one another. Our vision is 20/20, and God, if you aren't magnificent. The noises you make as your tongue continues its assault on me are provocative, eliciting moans from the bottom of my throat while my eyes roll back and my hips writhe beneath you. Vibrations emanate from your lips as you moan in response to how you undo me, slurping and licking at me deeper and faster to build on your high. Your hands grip me tighter, locking onto the soft of my thighs, not because you need to hold me down but because you want to anchor yourself. The sensual masochist in you knows how badly you want to slowly snake your hand down to feel the wet heat of your trembling cunt- but she won't let you. 

It's the idea that someone like me would beg for the opportunity to just lay beneath and watch you as you gave yourself the depraved release you will forever deserve that drives your lust. In these moments, I'm the one lucky fool under your spell who gets to have a taste of you, but only under your rules. 

That is why tonight is extra special because I agreed to let you do everything that you wanted to do to and or on me, and to be honest, your fantasies are not as wild as you think.

As my climax overtakes me, I gaze back down at you and admire your work. 

You may see me as a fool, but I am a victor. 

The same person that insulted me, frowned at me and rejected me is the same person that now in a delicious turn of events

has my cock down their throat. 

Notes: 

This person is someone that may have chased you or made you chase them

You both misunderstood each other and miscommunicated frequently, for some to the point that you couldn’t stand each other. 

Rosaline is the original apple of Romeo’s eye. She made a vow that prevented her from marrying so she is seen as unattainable and the cause of Romeo’s strife before he lays eyes on Juliet.

For some this night of pleasure is after you have a moment of realization and see that you both actually vibe really well.

You may choose to secretly scurry off to get to know each other better, or end up having this night of passion after you deepen your commitment or get married. 

You or this person could be in a situation where one has already promised themselves to someone else, but you both have a last minute moment of truth and choose to secretly give in to your desires without getting caught.

This is a slightly kinky pile

On this night you may be exploring water sports. I see a woman squirting over their partner or their partner asking to watch them squirt or pee into a glass 

I see nipple play

Similar to pile one, there is an edge of not being seen or organizing a secret rendezvous. 

I feel like it’s the more feminine person with the Rosaline energy, they may come off as bitchy or have severe resting bitch face, but the surprise is that they are the more kinky person.

They love your breasts, but get lustful when they see your opening.

Thank you for letting me the honor to read/write for you, Pile 2!✨Follow for more readings like this!

Your Song: Seventh - BOSCO

Prime Lyric: “Giving you permission as I'm breathing, Finger on the trigger, now we reset, Here to hide, Will we die? No.”

It's such a beautiful day. Your limbs are tangled in mine as we rest peacefully under the shade of a lone tree before the chapel courtyard. Your beautiful head against my chest gently anchors me to the grass as you listen to the rhythm of my heartbeat. I gaze into the blue sky, contemplating the recipe of cool teals, turquoise, and sapphires God chose to bundle the earth. Sometimes, I wonder why God still allows us to roam this beautiful garden of Eden we call our planet. Maybe it knows that after falling so painfully hard, there really is nowhere to go but up. Or, at least in my case, look up. 

 It's so quiet that you can hear the trickle of a nearby stream. As I look around, everything seems so vivid. Each blade of grass and round tree leaf is a more lively green and rustles so clearly against the gentle currents of air caressing our cheeks- that my spirit can't help but reach toward the surface of an all-encompassing consciousness. The sky, the leaves, the air, and the stream are alive- as alive as I am right here with you. I can see it now. Is this what it's like to be high? 

How could I not be after what we just did? Even though the ceremony was intimate, I was nervous that one of our friends or family found it and somehow turned up at the last moment. 

You shift your hand to draw feathered circles on my chest and snap me out of my musings. You look up at me with a mischievously giddy smile and trace me lower and lower until you reach the hem of my pants, pulling teasingly at the elasticity. I arch my brow in surprise, looking for signs of the clergy. It would be a disaster if one were to stumble across us on their holy walk to find you performing the most unholy of acts. My eyes scan the clearing. I gather myself on my forearms and take a peek back. You're also looking around, but those naughty eyes flash with an undercurrent of different intentions. I would have missed it if I hadn't known you so well. 

You want to get caught. 

My quick scan tells me that we're alone. But you're already gripping me, slender fingers wrapped tightly around velvet steel, ready to receive your touch. You stroke me firmly and languidly as the clouds pass by overhead, and my eager tip moistens with salty essence. I won't let you pull too many moans out of me. We don't know who may be listening despite another quick look around. It feels like I'm floating in a blessed eternity as you touch me until the chapel bell rings unexpectedly. We rush to compose ourselves- one more than the other. You giggle as I try to thrust myself back under my pants and hide my shame before we embarrassingly cross paths with someone on our walk back to the car. I don't return the sentiment.

It was a bad idea anyway. If the Universe is alive and God is real, that must have been a warning. A sort of "Congratulations, but do it in private." 

I know when to listen to divine intervention. I won't allow us to suffer judgment because of your lack of self-control. So I will become a mascareri and punish you myself. 

I want you to think you crossed a line during the car ride back. That our perfect day may not be so perfect after all. You got too impulsive- too excited. So you start entertaining regrets. It's a little cruel, but you'll forgive me later. 

A few hours post your voyeuristic episode, we're diving into champagne and wine bottles. You begged me to pop one open in the spirit of celebration, but we both knew you wanted to flood the nerves in your body with libations. But your consumption of liquor is a double-edged sword. 

Three, four, five glasses down and you're swimming. Your cheeks are a luscious plump shade of rose, your skin is warm to the touch, and your feet are too light or maybe too heavy because you stumble across the floor and fall into my arms. I open a window to let the night cool you down. I'm still nursing my first glass, so I trust myself to securely hoist my bride into my arms and lay her tenderly onto the mattress. Your arms lock behind my neck, and I meet the longing in your big, beautiful eyes. You search me for emotion. Anything that would reveal the current truth of my inner world, but I keep my mask on. 

You wanted to give the Universe a show today. So let's give it one. 

I'll tear the clothing off your body so roughly that cool night air will douse your heated skin with prickles of goosebumps. You won't have time to gasp at my movements because I'll already capture your beautiful mouth with my own- my strong body pressing yours into the mattress of our lover's nest. You will squirm in need, but that won't be enough for me. I need you to whimper, to whine, and mold your begging hips so close to mine as I caress slowly, achingly, down toward heaven. I'll cup my hand at the pearly gate and watch your troubled face as you wait what feels like a millennia until you crack from desperation to feel more of me. 

But there is a warning in my eyes you have never seen before. Something that tells you that this is different. It grips you into submission, a sense of fear and excitement battling within. You've never experienced me treat you like anything other than an angel. Until now, I would never have allowed you to fall. But now I truly have you.

 ALL OF YOU. 

Tonight, you will discover that when angels fall, the devil is there to catch them.  

After our week of heavenly sin in our temporary Garden of Eden, we can deal with the backlash that awaits us. 

Notes:

-This is the person you will marry or at least form a deep commitment with.

-At the time of the sexual encounter, you are trying to eagerly move the commitment forward formally, but you're seeking help to try and make it happen.

-Like looking for an officiant or going through pre-marriage counseling.

-However, you are feeling a little confused and lost or at least frustrated at the situation because things are proving to require more work.

-This may be because other parties are trying to but in with their opinion.

-You feel like you are meant to be with this person. Or you could have already done the deed, and need to break it to your friends and family. 

Thank you for letting me the honor to read/write for you, Pile 3!✨ Follow for more readings like this!

#pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #pick an image #pac tarot #pick a picture #tarot #free tarot #18+ content #love reading #love tarot reading

[ariadne-mouse]

I mentioned in this post that I thought it would take a life or death choice about Imogen for Liliana to flip, situationally, as opposed to the party being able to convince her to change her ideology (cult juice is strong), and it seems we may have gotten an element of that in Liliana flying to Imogen's aid against Otohan. I'd be very curious what Liliana would have done if she'd gotten there in time to fight, but we'll never know, so we have to digest the moment we got. I also think FCG's death adds another dimension both in-game and above the table. Since we dropped out literally mid-scene after her arrival this post may get stale immediately after the first few minutes of next week's episode, but for now I think it's safe to say that at least for the time Liliana spends with the party right now she will not be an active antagonist. Her daughter called for help and she answered, and her first act was trying to comfort her. Matt also wouldn't hit the players with another big battle fresh off the first (and with that outcome), so if they do have to face Liliana as an enemy it would be later under evolved circumstances.

To be clear I don't think FCG dying means Matt nerfs the threat of Liliana or that this situation means she has flipped permanently, but rather, it neatly interrupts the established dynamic between Liliana and Imogen thus far and creates a chance for new dialogue that doesn't just repeat all the same things as before. Imogen hasn't needed her mother - not really - and maybe still doesn't, but she called for help and is grieving now and the conversation doesn't necessarily have to be the same old "Liliana renounce your cause" but rather "help your daughter here and now" and to connect with her through that emotion. This is probably the best opportunity they'll ever get to flip Liliana in a more than "last ditch in a crisis moment" kind of way or lay the groundwork for that happening later. Now, the party - and Imogen in particular - may rightly be angry with Liliana as an ally of Otohan, and that FCG died because of the cause Liliana supports. Liliana may want to comfort her daughter while also believing that FCG's death was unfortunate but not ultimately a reason to doubt the cause or escape what she sees as inevitable. It's messy! But it's a very interesting situation and FCG's death is such a visible wound on Imogen that it may elicit Liliana to do or consider things she wouldn't, otherwise.

#As evidenced by her convos with Imogen earlier Liliana often thinks of the cause as a way to help Imogen (get rid of powers) #or that be following through that will protect her (prevent her from becoming the Vessel) #and so it's not a strong enough tactic to say “abandon the cause to protect your daughter” #it takes a more immediate tangible threat to effectively pit the “the cause” vs “imogen's safety” against each other #we can (and should) critique the way Liliana's love for Imogen is very flawed and a bit of a time capsule still seeing her as a child etc #but it IS there in its way and may have its role to play in all of this #critical role #cr spoilers #op #c3 #c3e91 #liliana temult #imogen

[istadris]

A funny little Bowuigi idea :

Luigi never goe on adventures with Mario (shhhh let's pretend it's true here).

He hears about it and all but whenever Bowser's here kidnapping Peach he's busy elsewhere, or is sick, or is engrossed in a game to thr point of missing out on the huge dragon turtle battle right outside his window.

So when one day Luigi takes a stroll in the forest and Bowser lands right in front of him after a thorough kicking-from-the-flying-fortress-by-Mario, Luigi's reaction isn't "oh no, Bowser !!"

But "oh no, someone's hurt, I gotta help-a them!"

Bowser wakes up in a cozy little green bed (Luigi is STRONG y'all don't realize, he can carry a big turtle boi) with a guy who looks very strongly like Mario bringing him food and asking him kindly how he's doing.

Usually Bowser's reaction would be :

Roar in anger

Send everything flying

Burn everything that reminds him of Mario

Stomp his way back home

Sulk

But as soon as he starts roaring, Luigi shrieks and shoves the entire plate of food in Bowser's mouth on reflex, which shuts Bowser up long enough to listen to the Green Mario babbling about what happened and he's so sorry he startled him (Bowser scoffs) and you shouldnt move right now your shell is cracked and do you have any family I could contact so they don't worry ?

And Bowser realizes.

This little guy. This "Luigi" guy." Who seems to be Mario's biggest fan given how he dresses and gushes about him.

Doesn't.

Know.

Bowser.

...

Well, there's free food, his shell IS cracked and he doesn't want to deal with Kamek's nagging and everyone's pity after another failed plan back home.

Plus, once he's bored of the pampering, revealing the truth will be one hell of a mean prank to play on that guy.

So he gets comfortable and braces himself for some holidays being spoiled by a Mario look-alike.

...except he's cuter. Just a bit.

*

Bonus 1 : Mario doesn't come home right away because he's spending his victory vacation with Peach, and when he swings by, through a peerfect comedy of errors, he doesn't see "Luigi's guest" well or long enough to recognize

Bonus 2 : someone who DOES know Bowser (like Toad) visits Luigi to catch up on news, and the whole time they're sweating bullets while sipping their tea as Bowser is giving them the nastiest "go on, tell him, I DARE you" smirk.

Bonus 3 : Bowser didn't connect the dots about Mario and Luigi's relationship because he doesn't want to assume every guy with a moustache is related. Look at Wario and Waluigi ! Most of his own kids are adopted, after all!

#super mario world #bowuigi #miscellaneous mario madness

[cryptidghostgirl]

Ritornello (Alastor x Cursed!Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: I don't think there are any but please correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 3,565

Previous Part: Rhapsody

Next Part: Rapture

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N Okay I know that canonically Charlie is like 200 but we're gonna make her 25.

After everything with Alastor, Y/n tried to continued their life as it had been before he'd stepped into. It was challenging, they faltered and misstepped. They had been good at being on their own once but now that they had a taste of the alternative, it was difficult to fall back into their old ways. Eventually, they managed to fall into a new pattern of being.

They were a bit more careful now, they didn't dash out unannounced from behind corners or secret hiding places. Seeing Alastor was the last thing they wanted to do. Now, they had someone to avoid.

For seventeen years, they continued on like this. They struggled through their battles on their own, against the overlords and against their own personal situation. They searched high and low for a cure but the only things they ever seemed able to come up with were false promises and temporary fixes. Every day, the curse the overlords had placed on them to limit their powers was growing stronger. Every time they used their magic, played their music, it became more and more corrupted and so, they learned to fight with their hands. This was until they got the call from Lucifer, of course.

The pair were old friends of a sort. Y/n had met him by chance within their first few days in Hell when he'd pulled them out of a tight spot. They didn't spend time together ever or really see one another at all but, Y/n had a vague sort of trust for the man, a strong sense of a debt needing to be repaid. Y/n didn't like owing people things, not even back when they were alive. They didn't like depending on people in that way. When he asked them if they could keep an eye on his daughter, they couldn't refuse.

Charlie was a lot. At twelve years old, she was bright and over the top and constantly bursting out into song. At first, Y/n had been rather uncertain about the whole arrangement, even when she'd gone through her emo phase at fifteen.

Y/n tried to steer clear of them for the most part. Picking her up from school, dropping her off. Babysitting when her parents needed a night to themselves, the normal stuff. When the issues started between Lilith and Lucifer, Charlie was suddenly thrust into Y/n's life a lot more. She had no idea the real reason, both her parents wanting to keep the trouble from her due to their own care and protective natures, and Y/n tried their best to keep it that way. It didn't help that by sixteen, Charlie had practically moved in with the demon but they managed.

Charlie had always pushed for a connection, something more than Y/n making her dinner and getting her where she needed to go. Y/n resisted at all costs. They'd been hurt before by trust, by care. The idea of going through it all again was terrifying. That all changed the day Charlie found out about the curse.

Y/n hadn't meant for her to find out. One of their situation's many many downsides was that while the curse ate away at their magic, it also ate away at their physical form. If they weren't careful, if they didn't temper their emotions and make sure they were eating enough raw meat, the beast would take over.

The beast was a horrific thing in their eyes, blood hungry and devastating. It was sub-human, sub-demon even, writhing and scornful. A mass of twisting shells of prey, a mass of claws and sharp teeth.

Of course, Y/n couldn't keep it from Charlie forever and on one fateful evening, Y/n had transformed. They'd been overworked, stressed about the fact that the Vees were gaining more territory and power, that soon they would be practically untouchable. They had forgotten to take care of themselves in the rush of it all, prioritizing Charlie and their plans.

When they had come back to their senses, come back to themself, it had been to the sight of Charlie. With a damp rag held to their forehead by the demoness and a whole lot of bones from victims of their situation on the floor around them, they had opened their eyes. Y/n had expected Charlie to flinch, to run in fear, to tell Lucifer who knew nothing about the curse. Instead, she had smiled brightly and told Y/n she was glad they were okay. From that day forward, they were absolutely inseparable, completely attached at the hip.

With Charlie's help and cheerful influence, Y/n was beginning to learn how to exist. They loved the girl like she was their own and Charlie knew if she ever had an issue of any sort, she could go to Y/n about it. Even when Y/n had relayed the story of how they'd been cursed and why, there had been no issues, no qualms, nothing. Charlie promised her watcher that she would help them break the curse, no matter what it took.

It was watching Charlie come into herself as a young adult, watching her meet and fall in love with Vaggie that made the real difference. The princess of Hell was unapologetically herself and Vaggie took everything she had to offer with open arms. Slowly but surely, the search for a cure took a back seat as did Y/n's goal of taking down the overlords of Hell. Their life was different, but they were happy. They found themself wishing for the past, the one they had shared with Alastor, less and less, channeling their energy into the world around them. They didn't even notice when the reports started to come in that the Radio Demon of the overlords had seemingly vanished.

Things hadn't been without their challenges. Charlie's relationship with her dad was strained to say the least and when her mom had disappeared? She'd been absolutely inconsolable but with one another's help, they figured things out, made it through.

When Charlie pitched the idea of the Happy Hotel, Y/n had been doubtful. They knew a lot about Hell, the way it functioned, the way the demons within were. It came from decades running around back streets and surviving in the underworld of the underworld. It was Charlie's hope that did it, her earnest gaze. Y/n had caved and after months of hard work, the Hotel had finally opened.

Things were going well, too well even. Then there had been the interview with Katie Killjoy, the other shoe dropping. Y/n had watched it from the sidelines with Vaggie. As soon as Charlie had come down off the set, they had enveloped her in their arms and held them close. With Vaggie's help, they managed to get Charlie back to the hotel.

Once she had calmed down a little bit, Charlie stood from where she had been seated in the sitting room beside Y/n, Vaggie, and the hotel's one resident: Angel Dust. She mentioned something about calling her mom before disappearing into the lobby.

Y/n and Vaggie exchanged a look. They both knew the situation Charlie was in with regards to her mother and how she tended to get after one of her failed attempts to contact the woman. Neither thought this was the time or the place to step in however, and remained seated, chatting idly with Angel as they waited for Charlie's return.

When she finally did, it was with a nervous attitude and a strained expression.

"Hey Vaggie?"

"What?" Vaggie asked as she and Y/n twisted to look at Charlie who stood in the door way behind the couch.

"Can you come help me please?"

Vaggie got to her feet and exited the sitting room with her girlfriend. Y/n turned to Angel to continue their conversation but had barley gotten a word to the spider demon out when Vaggie stepped back in the room.

"Y/n?"

"Yeah?" Y/n replied calmly.

"Charlie actually needs our help with this one, I think."

"Alright then." Y/n got to their feet, shooting a glance back at Angel, "A true hotelier's work is never done." they lightly joked and Angel rolled his eyes.

"What's this about?" Y/n asked Vaggie as they followed her down the hall towards the hotel's main entrance.

"Just..." Vaggie sighed, "you'll see."

Noting the girl's odd behavior and stressed demeanor, Y/n steeled themselves. Not much put Vaggie on edge. She was strong, toughened, as far as Y/n knew, by a brutal upbringing in the streets of Hell. While each use of their powers made the curse grow stronger, they would not hesitate to protect Charlie or her dreams should the need arise. Besides, they'd become quite good at other means of self preservation over the years.

As they rounded the corner into the lobby space, Y/n was greeted by a flash of red as someone pushed past Charlie into the space from the street and a familiar voice.

"Excuse my sudden visit, but I saw your fiasco on the picture show and I just couldn't resist. What a performance! Why I haven't been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929. So many orphans."

Y/n let out a low growl, summoning their lute into their hands and Vaggie pointed her spear at the Radio Demon. It was pure instinct. If they knew anyone, they knew Alastor and redemption was not the Radio Demon's cup of tea. As Charlie shut the door, he turned to face them. Y/n walked a few steps forward, planting their feet a little ways away from Alastor and poising their fingers to play.

"Get out of here." They said through gritted teeth.

Alastor's eyes widened with recognition for the smallest moment. As quick as he had lost it, he regained his composure.

"My what a protective force this Hazbin Hotel has." Alastor mused.

"It's called the Happy Hotel actually?" Charlie hesitantly corrected and he laughed.

"Not anymore its not. I did you the favor of fixing your sign."

A little threat couldn't hurt, a little reminder of who he was dealing with. Alastor had no idea Y/n was any less capable than when he'd first met them. One little note couldn't hurt, wouldn't show any of the damage done. Y/n plucked a single string on their instrument and the room around them began to glow. Everyone's hair lifted around their faces, the loose edges of their clothes beginning to flutter.

"Get out of here now. I wont ask you again."

"Now, is that anyway to treat an old friend?" Alastor replied, smirking.

Everything suddenly clicked into place. There was something different about him. Y/n couldn't put their finger on exactly what it was, but they could tell he hadn't been lying. He'd been at the Hotel for at least five minutes by now, maybe more with all Charlie and Vaggie's running back and forth since his arrival. If he had had any truly negative intentions, they would have revealed themselves, especially to Y/n. Alastor was a good liar, but no one was that good, good enough to trick someone who had watched them become the person they are.

"Old friend?" Vaggie repeated, turning to Y/n in confusion.

Their grimace faltered, before falling completely. They released their instrument, letting it hang loosely in their hand by their side.

"Alastor! You're embarrassing me in front of my kid."

"Your kid?" Alastor asked after a moment.

This time the shocked expression that crept its way onto his face stayed there.

"You know him?" Charlie asked at the same moment as Alastor spoke.

Y/n let their instrument dissolve into the air and gestured to Charlie.

"My kid. And yes, Charlie. I know Alastor."

Alastor turned, looking Charlie up and down.

"You got with Lucifer?" Alastor asked in confusion as he looked back at Y/n.

They laughed lightly at the notion, unable to stop themselves. They shook their head.

"No. Oh my gosh, I would never. Seriously just... great guy and all but no thank you. I just take care of his kid for him. Well, used to. We sorta got attached."

Charlie walked up to Y/n as they spoke, pulling them into a side hug.

"Y/n practically raised me. They were kinda the only one who was always there for me."

Y/n looked down at Charlie with a fond smile. They ruffled her hair and Charlie quickly batted their hand away.

It was clear to Alastor that Y/n had changed. They were no longer the trouble making demon he had known, that he had loved. Still, there was that same spark in their eyes, that fervent desire, that want. From just the small interaction playing out before him, he could tell that Y/n had learned how to trust and protect rather than just fight. They had learned to live hand in hand with that creeping need woven so tightly around their bones, rather than despite it.

It made him happy to see, it made him happy for her. At the same time, it caused his heart to ache terribly. They had finally been able to let someone in, and it hadn't been him.

In the years since their separation, Alastor had never stopped thinking about Y/n. Their memory was tender to the touch, shot sparks of joy or anguish down him depending on the day. It was like an old wound that had never quite healed right. Seeing them now was unexpected. The wound reopened. He sheltered himself.

Y/n saw the way Vaggie still had her spear pointed at Alastor, aimed straight at his neck. Gently, they placed a hand on it, pushing it down. Vaggie looked at them, her eyebrows raised.

"If he wanted to hurt anyone here, he would have done so already."

Vaggie stared at Y/n for a moment. Seeing how serious the demon that had become a mentor to her was in this moment, she lowered her blade. Y/n's hand fell back to their side.

"Now," Y/n turned to look at Alastor once again, "why are you here?"

----

It was late. Vaggie had told Y/n that Charlie wanted to speak to them about something in their office and so, Y/n found themselves outside the familiar door. They knocked once on the dark red wood.

"Yeah?"

They opened the door and Charlie smiled.

"What'd you wanna talk to me about, Sunshine?" Y/n asked as they entered the room, taking a seat in the chair across the desk from their young charge.

"Just about Alastor."

They should have known. Not only was the hotel at a potential risk thanks to the decision to allow him to work with them but Charlie had always had a sharp sense of curiosity. Y/n sighed.

"Fire away, kiddo."

"Well, how do you two know one another? Can we trust him? Do you think he means what he says he does? I thought you hated overlords? I.. I..."

Y/n smiled softly, the change in their face easing Charlie's nervous temper.

"We will handle these one at a time, no prying. Deal?"

"Y/n, you realize how suspicious that makes you sound, right?"

"Fine. A little prying. Deal?"

"Deal."

Y/n leaned back in their chair, letting out a sigh of nostalgia. Their hands rested on their stomach as they kicked their feet up onto Charlie's desk.

"I... I met Alastor practically right after he arrived. We both thought the overlord system was dumb and so, we decided to team up."

There was a moment of silence, broken by Charlie. The young demoness had always loved Y/n's stories, begged to hear them. They had never once heard this one before.

"Is that all?"

Y/n shook their head.

"We dated."

"You dated!" Charlie exclaimed in shock, nearly jumping out of her seat, "You dated the Radio Demon. Were you in love?"

Of course she'd go on and ask that next. Not 'how'd that happen?' not 'when was this?' No, Charlie had to go for the hardest question first, like she always did.

"Yes." Y/n hesitantly replied, "I did."

"I... oh my god. This is actually crazy. You dated? You actually dated. Like for real, in love, dated."

"Alright." Y/n clapped their hands, taking their feet off the desk and righting themselves in their chair, "Next question."

"Bu-"

"I said some prying."

"Fine." Charlie sighed, crossing her arms, "But I am gonna get that story out of you eventually."

"I'm sure you will, sunshine." Y/n chuckled lightly, "Now. Can we trust him? I... I'm not sure."

All the excitement vanished from Charlie as she looked seriously over at Y/n.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"Because, he's up to something but not with us. Or, if it is with us, it's not to hurt us. I... something happened to him, something is different. I am not sure what I just... he's not here to hurt us... I think..."

"You think?" Charlie repeated indignantly, "Can you be a little more sure of that maybe? Why only think?"

"It's been a long time since I've seen him, Charls. Maybe being an overlord is what changed him. I have no way of knowing but my gut tells me he's okay, at least for now."

"You knew him before he became an overlord?"

"You really think I would team up with one of those bitches? Come on. You know I hate them."

"I-"

"Next question." Y/n quickly interrupted, not wanting to think on the past anymore than was necessary, "I think he does mean what he says, as was implied in whether or not I trusted him but the same caveats that applied there apply here too. And I do hate overlords, I just..."

"You just love him." Charlie teased.

Y/n's cheeks grew hot. They looked away.

"I do not. I loved him. There is a difference."

"Uh-huh. Sure. Why did you guys break up?"

Y/n turned back to Charlie. They couldn't say no to those eyes.

"Well, he became an overlord. Also I maybe... never told him. About the curse. He could tell something was up and..." Y/n took a breath, "couldn't take it after a while I guess."

"So you guys still loved each other when you broke up."

"What are you scheming over there."

"Nothing! Nothing!" Charlie quickly replied as she not so discreetly scribbled something on a piece of paper, "How long were you together?"

Y/n placed their hands on the arms of the chair, pulling themselves to their feet.

"Alright, trouble maker, I think thats enough lore outta me tonight."

"But Y/n!"

"I'm gonna go to bed. Vaggie already headed upstairs for the night I think. Sweet dreams, princess."

"Good night Y/n." Charlie dejectedly replied as she realized she really wasn't going to be getting anything else out of her mentor that night.

"Good night."

Y/n was about half way through the Hotel back to their room when they felt a hand on their shoulder. Reacting purely out of instinct, they ducked out from under the person's grip, spinning around with their fists raised. Alastor smiled down at Y/n and they sighed.

"What is it?" they asked, straightening up.

He had expected Y/n to be angry, to have that familiar sharp edge behind their voice. Instead, they looked up at him. As if everything was normal, as if it hadn't been thirty years since they'd last seen one another, as if they had just been together yesterday, their eyes met his.

"I... it's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too." they replied after a moment's thought, "What are you doing up this late?"

"You know me, sleep is not my preferred way to pass time."

"I meant what are you doing in the hall, but sure. Yeah, I know you."

"That darling Charlie asked to see me."

Y/n scoffed, shaking their head with a tired smile.

"Of course she'd... yeah."

They stood in the hall facing one another. Just a few feet apart. The silence was thick.

"You seem happy."

"I am." Y/n nodded, "Charlie is a great kid. I was pissed when Lucifer first asked me to look after her, I'll admit it but, she has grown on me."

"I didn't know you were acquainted with the big man. I thought you despised all authority figures."

Y/n looked critically at Alastor, over his whole being. He felt they were looking into his very soul, the heart of all his intentions and desires. He felt absolutely naked in the worst way under their gaze.

"No, just overlords. Especially ones who make deals for the souls of others. It's a stupid and outdated system. Even the best of them like Rosie abuse their power to get what they want."

It was a well sharpened arrow, the remark. Perfectly aimed. Alastor had, after all, introduced the small group inhabiting the hotel to Husk and Nifty just that afternoon. Y/n turned their back to Alastor.

"She has big dreams and the passion to see them through. I believe in her. Don't... don't fuck this up for her, Alastor."

----

Next Part -> Rapture

@moonmark98 @luzzbuzz @snowlotr @randomuser-89 @fakeguysarehot @xdolls-crownx

#x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #x reader fics #alastor the radio demon #fic writer #hazbin hotel alastor #x reader writer #alastor hazbin hotel #multi chap fic #multi chapter #x alastor #alastor x you #alastor x reader #the radio demon #radio demon #radio demon x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #x reader fanfic #fanfic #x reader fic #cursed reader #cursed!reader #x cursed reader

[spacebarbarianweird]

Can I request Aasimar Tav headcanons (with astarion)? I barely see anything about Aasimar Tav since it's a mod to get in game

Astarion x Protector Aasimar!Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

Aasimar are pretty new as a race and there are three main types: Protector, Scourge and Fallen.

Protector Aasimar is filled with the power of goodness to protect the weak, root out evil anywhere, and stand tirelessly in the path of darkness. From a young age, they receive advice and guidance that encourages him to resist evil.

Scourge Aasimar is filled with a divine energy that blazes within. It fuels a strong desire to destroy evil - a desire at best firm and at worst all-consuming. Many aasimars wear masks to shield themselves from the world and focus on containing this power, removing the mask only during battle.

Fallen Aasimar is touched by the forces of darkness in their youth or turn to evil as an adult. Their inner light has been replaced by shadow. Instead of angelic wings, they have skeleton ones which aren't fit for flying but good for intimidation.

I am going to do Protector Aasimar for you, and later I will do Fallen Aasimar for another request I have. If you want Scourge Aasimar or another vision of the character, let me know in the inbox!

You are born of celestial blood, a descendant of angelic creatures.

Raised among humans, your skin is pale, and metallic freckles scatter over your perfect face.

Your eyes are perfect silver, the glow in the dark.

A ghostly halo crowns your head.

And what is the most important, you have wings.

They are big and strong, you learned to fly before you learned to walk.

Your patron is Myllandra, a cold and distant creature.

Torn between two worlds, you are neither a celestial nor a human.

Not immortal, your lifespan is even shorter than one of a half-elf.

Your patron gives you orders and you have to follow them even if it means you ignore someone's sufferings.

You are given an order - you need to lead the fight against the Absolute.

If it means someone dies in the process, it's not your problem.

But you must not fight the Selunites' wars against the Sharns.

Don't look for the Night Song.

You obey and abide, cold and distant as you've been taught.

But the tadpole cuts your connection with your patron, forcing you to make decisions on your own.

You suddenly can decide whom to help. You can have fun. You can fall in love.

Astarion is absolutely bewildered by you.

An aasimar! A descendant of angels!

And, gods, your wings!

They are wonderful!

Your blood tastes divine in the truest sense.

And Astarion sort of corrupts you, teaching you to be selfish, to cherish material things - everything which was forbidden to you.

But the moment comes and he realizes he can't lie anymore. You are too pure, too honest, it's unfair to play games with you.

He confesses and waits for the divine punishment.

Instead, you hug Astarion wrapping him in your wings.

Corrupted and free, you are still an aasimar.

Now, when you are together, he often caresses your wings in public.

He especially loves cleaning the feathers of blood and gore.

And putting ointment on your back to ease the muscle pain after flying.

You are shocked to see the Night Song.

An aasimar! Just like you!

But why were your patron's orders like that? What is going on?

You act according to your ideals and win the war on your own terms.

When it's all over, you are ready to cover Astarion with your wings from the sun but instead…

He doesn't burn.

Your blood gives him temporary resistance.

But-

Your patron is back.

Myllandra is pissed.

She spares you the details of how much you have interfered with the divine plan and what a horrible creature you are.

As a punishment, she rips your wings off.

The pain is so unbearable you want to die.

Now you are locked in some interdimensional prison, restrained with chains and cursed with never never-ending pain of having your wings torn.

You've lost track of time, your life is only pain and suffering, the divine punishment for everything you did.

The thing is -

You aren't alone.

You hear the distant sounds of fighting, of some cruel battle outside the walls of your prison.

And then your chains are broken with the Orphic Hammer.

"Fuck, what has this bitch done to you", you hear the exhausted voice.

Of course.

Astarion isn't afraid of some angel who thinks too much about herself.

He is here. Along with the Night Song and the Selunites.

It takes you time to forget your imprisonment. The pain. The desperation.

What is worse, is the changes in your body.

You have the chronic pain in your back. Your skin is much darker than it was. Your eyes return to their "natural" grey color and don't glow in the dark.

Though, your blood still protects Astarion from the sunlight.

Even your patron can't take everything from you.

Together, you stay with the Selunites.

You are still Protector Aasimar - and there are plenty of ways to live up to your ideals.

Together, you are a peculiar couple.

A mutilated aasimar and a vampire, both in the Selunites' armor, go to the darkest and most cursed places to be heroes and adventurers.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe 

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion headcanon #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #spacebarbarian headcanon #astarion x reader #dnd #baldurs gate astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion brainrot #astarion fluff #astarion imagine #baldur's gate tav #aasimar tav #aasimar

[hells-wasabii]

hey,i LOVE your work! Can i request a Lute (hazbin hotel) x gn!reader who is Adam's sibling and how she's slowly falling for reader. It's okay if u don't wanna do it,but incase u do please tag me ♡

AN: Sooooo, I messed this request up. I wrote the headcanons in my google doc and finished them in one sitting so i didn't exactly cross reference the ask, and I wrote general relationship hc for lute x reader who's adam's sibling. Don't worry though, I'm not gonna let this fumble go to waste, I'll go ahead and post a full set of HC now and a Drabble that I’m working on for it at a later date.

Character: Lute

Type: Headcanons (Lute x reader who is Adam’s sibling, Fluff)

When Lute initially met you, she didn’t exactly know that you and Adam were siblings. You had come along to the exorcist training grounds for some reason or another dealing with Adam, and Lute had initially thought you were lost. It's not until the first man makes an appearance that she connects the dots. Up until that point, she didn’t even know he had a sibling

She’s surprised at how different you are from Adam. Where the first man was crass, you… let's face it, even if you have a higher level of maturity than your brother, you’re still his sibling. Do with that as you will.

After the initial meeting, the two of you saw each other more and more often. It really didn’t take long for the two of you to get closer, and eventually get together.

Of course, Adam finding out about the two of you is inevitable. How long it took for him to figure it out though is kind of up in the air. He can teeter between pretty dense to super observant. Or the two of you could even beat him to the punch and tell him yourselves. After the initial shock he wouldn’t really care, though after you leave, he pulls Lute to the side and super casually threatens her, ‘ya know blah blah blah hurt them and you’re out of the band’

The other exorcists are sure to talk, too. The most popular rumor amongst them had been that Lute was merely with you to gain favor with Adam. Another was that Lute had simply gotten tired of a (non-existent)romance with Adam and moved on to his sibling. Both Adam and Lute were quick to put a stop to that one.

With you having been around since the beginning of humanity like Adam, she finds it easier to ask about the garden, Adam is a little more bitter about it and won't go into details as a result, and when he does, it’s usually about events that centered around him. From you, she would get to learn about events that texts never went into. Though in reality, it was partially a ruse for her to be able to listen to you speak so fondly of your time on earth.

Assuming you’re just as strong of an angel as Adam is, you’ll be a constant sparring partner for the lieutenant. None of the other exorcists are a match for her ruthlessness in battle, but you had the power to keep up. You could present a challenge and by god did that give Lute a thrill she hadn’t realized she needed.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin imagine #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel x reader #lute x reader #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin lute #adam hazbin hotel

[peacelovepandora]

New Breath, All Mine (Daddy's Here Sequel)

Jake Sully x Daughter!Reader

everyone was heartbroken after the first part, and the demand for a sequel was high, so here it is. also, I want to give full credit to @vampxra for proposing this wonderful sequel idea!

I hope you like this (and also happy birthday @vampxra consider this a b-day present) ! sorry to put y'all through the trauma of the first part hopefully this makes up for it

do yourself a favor and listen to The Songcord during the first part of this one too lmao

enjoy xx.

Time no longer felt like a factor. Your existence was only peace. Smiling to yourself, you stared up at the swinging tendrils of the massive, effulgent Tree of Souls. The sky was dark and the stars--that you admired so deeply--winked down at you. As you laid on your back, allowing the softness of the ground to relax you, the feeling of an additional presence pulled you from your serenity.

Sitting up, you looked around until your eyes fell on a tall figure. As the figure walked towards you, it slowly developed from a silhouette to a blurred image before finally materializing.

Your eyes widened as you stood up, preparing to greet the approaching presence. Though you'd never gotten the chance to meet him, something within you confirmed that he was exactly who you believed he was.

He slowly made his way up the slanted roots before coming face-to-face with you. Your mouth dropped in awe as you gawked up at him. Amused by your reaction, he tilted his head, which slightly agitated the beads in his hair.

"No greeting for me?" he asked, smirking as he opened his arms.

"You are . . ." you breathed, "the great warrior. Brother of my father. Uncle of me. Tsu'tey."

His smirk grew into a smile as you rushed forward before colliding with his chest. As you wrapped your arms around his neck, he closed his arms around your torso.

Tucking your face into his neck, you spoke again. "It is so wonderful to finally meet you."

You felt his large hands briefly rub your back. "And you, as well, my strong little warrior." He pulled away, placing hands on your shoulders. "But, I am afraid I cannot stay."

You frowned at his words. "Why?"

He smiled gently, grabbing one of your hands in his. "I am here to deliver a message to you. The Great Mother has sent me."

Your eyebrows flew up as your lips parted. Remaining quiet, you waited for him to continue. "You have been called," he stated simply.

When you didn't reply, he placed a gentle hand on your cheek. "You have called back--by your family," he continued, "The Great Mother sent me to you, allowing your family to communicate this message. However, the choice is yours."

After a long moment, with wide eyes, you finally choked out a response. "You mean, I can return to them?"

Tsu'tey bowed his head, giving a single nod.

For the first time since you'd arrived--and you had no clue how long you'd been there--you felt conflicted. As much as you wanted to see your family, you felt guilty about leaving The Great Mother when she had called you to her.

Sensing your battling thoughts, Tsu'tey gave your hand a squeeze. Snapping out of your daze, you looked back up at him.

"The Great Mother understands all. Nothing will change her love for you. You will join Her again."

His words were the confirmation that you needed. Joy washed over you as a teary smile crossed your face. Raising his hand to your lips, you placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles.

"Thank you, my wonderful uncle," you whispered, "I wish we could have talked longer. I will miss you."

Another soft smile spread across his face. "We will see each other again," he replied gently, "and we will talk for all of eternity, if that is your wish. For now, go be with your family."

Taking one last look at him, you finally nodded and smiled. He gazed fondly at you before stepping forward. Then, he gripped both sides of your head before leaning in. As soon his lips connected with your forehead, the world around you went white.

-

"The Great Mother protects only the balance of life," Mo'at explained in a low voice, "The choice will be Hers."

"I understand," Jake replied, nodding his head, "I just . . . wanna give it a try."

Mo'at nodded once before raising her hands, signaling for The People to begin. The luminescent areas of the Tree of Souls, and the surrounding roots, began to flash repeatedly. Your body, which your family had brought back to the forest, was spread beneath the glowing tendrils. Slim, glowing tendrils--that were the size of blades of grass--wrapped around your body, connecting your physical body to Eywa. The People chanted--all of their voices becoming one as they begged for Eywa to return your soul.

Jake, who was sitting on your right side, stared down at your peaceful face, praying for a miracle. Neytiri, who sat on the opposite side, watched your state while rubbing a gentle thumb over your hair. Your brothers sat on either side of your legs.

As Mo'at continued to conduct the revival ceremony, the flashing lights grew faster.

"Ting mikyun ayoer, ruxte, ma nawma sa'nok!" Mo'at chanted.

"Srung si poeru, ma Eywa!" The People chanted.

"Please," Jake whispered, "Bring her back to us."

Neytiri, being the only one that heard his words, placed a hand on his. He looked up, meeting her gaze before giving her a soft smile.

"Eo Eywa oe 'ia, eo Eywa oe 'ia, eo Eywa oe 'ia, eo Eywa oe 'ia," Mo'at repeated, rolling her eyes to the back of her head.

Arms spread out, she shook over your body, allowing herself to become lost within the ceremony. The lights within the roots flashed faster, resembling a strobe light pattern now. Then, after a long minute of chanting, Mo'at came to a sudden stop. Snapping her eyes open, she signaled for the people to cease their chants.

She lowered her gaze to your body, moving slowly as she kneeled over you. Jake's heart pounded against his ribcage as he waited for Mo'at to speak.

With an awestruck expression, Mo'at finally broke the silence. "She is with us."

Jake withheld a gasp as he snapped his head to Neytiri. Neytiri, who had been looking at her mother, turned to Jake. They stared at one another for a moment before lowering their gazes to you. Reaching out, Jake brushed a loose strand of hair from your forehead before cupping your face.

The air was still. No one dared to speak, or even take a breath. All they could do was wait.

-

"She is with us."

The echoing voice was familiar to your foggy mind. However, distinguishing who it belonged to was too much effort for you. At the moment, all you could do was try to center yourself.

For the longest time, you felt disconnected--like you were a floating presence, suspended in an airless vacuum. However, ever-so-slowly, you began to feel the world around you.

There was air. It was crisp, but not uncomfortably cold. Something soft was behind you, but you couldn't distinguish what it was. Your existence slowly morphed from nothingness to darkness.

It's dark, you thought to yourself, before realization began to dawn on you, My eyes must be closed.

Then, the object behind you became clearer as you felt gravity pushing down on you.

I'm laying down, you realized, I'm laying down on something soft, and I feel it behind me.

The elements of the surrounding world, that you'd once known, were slowly beginning to materialize in your mind, grounding you from your spiritual state.

As you became aware of the body that you were in, you struggled to move. However, you felt paralyzed.

Slowly, my child. Not yet, an unknown, yet comforting voice rang within your head, startling you, You will return at your own pace.

Suddenly, something agitated you. Then, it agitated another part of you. Concentrating, you tried to picture your surroundings.

My face, you decided, Someone is touching my face.

The touch did wonders to ground you further. It gave you perspective. You relaxed into its warm embrace, allowing the remaining parts of yourself to materialize. Before long, you felt steady.

Your body was laying down on the soft, marsh-like material of the ground. Small tendrils were gripping the sides of your skin. A large hand was cupping your cheek, slowly rubbing a thumb over your cheekbone. At last, you felt like you could breathe.

"Hhhh." A small, almost intangible, sigh, left your lips.

The thumb froze its movements, lifting itself above your skin, hovering shakily over your cheek.

"Baby girl?" a hesitant voice spoke.

It was so close. It had to be right above you. Fatigue faded and a new wave of strength washed over you. Using this strength, you concentrated on the muscles of your eyes. After a minute, you managed to lift them open.

At first, everything was white. However, the white quickly faded as a hazy world transpired before you. You were too busy trying to clear your vision to take notice of the gasps and screams around you.

"Oh Great Mother!" a voice wailed, "Great Mother, thank you! Thank you!"

The back of your head was cupped and two faces nuzzled into your cheeks. Blinking rapidly, you finally saw the world clear around you. The faces lifted, and you met the gazes of your mother and father.

After processing their faces, you finally gained the strength to speak.

"Hi." Your voice came out breathlessly.

Smiling widely, they both broke into a relieved wave of laughter. Their eyes, which were pouring with tears, glanced at each other before returning to you.

"Hello, my love," Neytiri replied as Jake spoke a raspy, "Hi, baby girl."

"Baby sister?"

Your eyes shifted behind your father's head. A joyous expression spread across your face as Neteyam and Lo'ak came into view. Tears were leaking from their faces, as well.

"Big brothers," you greeted, smiling widely at them.

Neteyam ran his hand over his face, wiping the tears, before scooting closer to you. When he reached his hand out, you immediately outstretched yours. The two of you grabbed hands and squeezed tightly. Lo'ak did the same, grabbing your other hand.

"I love you, big brothers," you said before turning to your father, "Daddy?"

He'd been staring at you, an expression of astonishment still evident on his face. "Daddy?" you called again.

He snapped out of his trance. "Y-Yes?" he replied, nerves evident in his voice, "I'm here, I'm here."

"Uncle Tsu'tey," you answered, making his mouth fall agape, "He delivered the message--from all of you. He told me that you all were calling to me, and that The Great Mother could return me to you."

Jake's eyes, which had slightly calmed, were overwhelmed with a new wave of tears. Tilting his head, he gripped the back of your neck.

"Is that right?" he asked, shifting his eyes to Neytiri.

When you turned to your mother, she smiled at you. "He is your family too," she whispered, brushing a finger over your cheek, "He came for guidance."

Nodding your head, you released your brothers' hands before cupping the back of your parents' heads. They leaned in, allowing you to hold them closely. Jake and Neytiri reached their hands out, pulling Neteyam and Lo'ak in as the family wrapped themselves around your small body.

-

As your family walked away from the tree, along with the rest of The People, you looked up at your father.

"Daddy?" you called.

Jake, who had been walking with an arm around your shoulders, looked down. "Yeah, baby?"

Your mother, who was holding the hand farthest from Jake, looked over at the sound of your voice.

"Are we still living with the Metkayina?" you asked.

He sighed before tightening his grip on you. "It isn't safe for you here, because this is our home. It's known to everyone," he answered, making you nod in response, "but with the Metkayina, you'll be safer. And, should anything happen, you'll be protected by Tonowari and his family while we go out on the field."

Gazing in front of you, you answered in a quiet voice. "I won't be fighting anymore."

"No." Jake, Neytiri, Neteyam, and Lo'ak replied together.

"Hell no. Absolutely not. Out of the question," Jake continued sternly, "We lost you once, but were fortunate enough to be blessed with a miracle."

When you didn't respond, he glanced down at you. Sensing his eyes, you lowered your gaze before nodding obediently.

Realizing that he'd let his emotions get the best of him, he halted his movements before turning to you and cupping your face with both hands. "I'm sorry, baby girl. I just--I got a little . . . " He stopped, closing his eyes to collecting his words. "I won't lose you again," he whispered, shaking his head as his eyes grew hazy, "I wouldn't--I couldn't even bear it the first time."

Feeling your own eyes gloss over, you tilted your head before gripping one of his wrists. "I know, Dad. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

His hands, which were rubbing your cheeks, moved up to cup the top of your head. They smoothed over your head and ran down your lengthy hair. He'd always petted your hair, but you knew that this act of comfort was moreso for himself, than for you.

He couldn't believe you were there, standing right in front of him, breathing again. He was so afraid that, if he disconnected his physical touch, you would disappear and fade into a cloud of dust.

"Don't apologize," he finally replied, "Don't you ever apologize for this. If anything . . . we should be thanking you . . . for coming back to us."

He shifted his gaze to look at the rest of your family. Neteyam stepped closer before taking your free hand. After smiling glossily at each member of your family, you looked back at your father.

"I still needed all of you," you replied, "and you still needed me."

Cupping the back of your head, Jake placed a kiss on your forehead.

-

The pain, so familiar, was almost as strong as the first time you'd felt it. The vision of your chest, and the red liquid leaking from it, was branded into your mind. It was so clear, like you were in the moment, once again.

"Y/N."

You looked up at Neteyam, and his petrified gaze that paralyzed you.

"Baby girl, look at me. Open you eyes."

Sucking in a harsh breath, your eyes snapped open as you jerked yourself to a sitting position. Panting, you blinked rapidly before looking around, desperately trying to establish your surroundings.

"Baby, hey. Hey, hey, hey."

Arms were around you, restricting your movements. The panic spiked within you as you thrashed harder, still seized by the terror of your nightmare.

"Shh, shh, shh. I know, I know. It's okay, it's okay."

You finally recognized your father's soft coos. Freezing your movements, you looked around the dimly-lit hut. However, when your eyes failed to locate him, your breath picked up again.

"Dad," you wheezed, feeling your chest tighten up.

"Here, baby," Jake whispered, gently turning your head to face him, "I'm right here."

He was cradling you, but his arms were also restricting your arms, keeping them at your sides. You wheezed as you struggled to break from your frantic state.

"I was--It was--"

He only nodded, rocking you in his lap. "I know, I know."

Jake knew what your nightmare was about. In fact, he'd been expecting this. There was no way that you'd adjust back to your life without the trauma you'd experienced coming back to haunt you in some form.

Your shallow breaths prohibited your ability to form a sentence. "I can't--I can't--"

"I got you," he whispered, nodding down at you, "I got you, baby. It's all over. It's all over."

He grabbed your shaking hand and pressed it to his chest, allowing you to feel his heartbeat. As you rested your head in the crook of his elbow, Jake kept his gaze fiercely trained on you and stopped his rocking movements.

"You feel this?" he asked, squeezing you gently to emphasize his grip on you, "I've got you. You're mine. My baby, my little girl. All mine." He shook his head. "No one's taking you from me ever again."

Shaking all over, you sucked in a harsh, audible breath as tears began pouring down your cheeks. A long, loud sob tore through your lips before you took in another loud breath.

It took everything in Jake to hold back his own tears. The fragility of your state made it imperative for him to show no signs of weakness. You were looking to him for comfort--for protection from the horrors of your mind.

"Big breaths, baby. Big breaths," he instructed, resuming his rocking movements, "That's it."

Using his chest as a reference, you slowly adjusted yourself to imitate his breathing patterns. He flattened his large hand over yours.

"That's my girl." His voice proved to be highly therapeutic for you. It was the first voice you'd heard, and the last one you'd heard. "So good. You're doing so good."

After a long few minutes, he'd finally managed to ground you from your panic attack. Your breaths grew even and your sobs quieted. Apart from Jake's continuous rocking motions, no signs of you distress remained.

"All mine," he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief as he gazed down at you.

As your eyes began to droop, you snapped them open. Finally breaking from Jake's grasp, you sat up before scooting next to him, never taking your hand off of his chest.

He squeezed the hand that he was holding. "What is it, baby?"

"I can't go back to sleep," you whimpered, shaking your head, "I won't."

Jake sighed, completely understanding your fear. However, he desperately wanted you to get some more rest, knowing the toll a lack of sleep could take on you--physically and emotionally.

He thought for a moment, rubbing his thumb over your hand. Then, an idea finally materialized in his head. Gently, he stood up, raising you up with him. When you gave him a questioning look, he nodded towards the hut entrance.

"C'mon," he said, taking your hand and guiding you towards the doorway.

The two of you walked a small distance before arriving at a hammock that your family had set up outside the hut. Jake sat on the swinging object. Then, he spread his legs out and positioned himself to lay down. Finally, he gave your hand a gentle tug, signaling you to come to him.

"C'mere."

He pulled you into the spot next to him, cupping your head as you placed it on his chest.

"I don't want to sleep," you stressed, earning a shush from him.

"We aren't," he whispered, "We're stargazing."

For a long moment, Jake waited until he felt you relax against him--completely letting your guard down--before initializing the second part of his plan.

His mind hadn't wandered to his Earth life in years. However, a soft, Earthling tune, echoing from the distant memories of his childhood, overtook his mind when you'd first protested the idea of sleeping.

Prior to Pandora, music--or any artistic realm--never proved to be Jake's forte. However, life with the Omaticaya had changed every fiber of his DNA. Many nights had been spent singing, dancing, chanting, and celebrating. Therefore, it wasn't too out-of-character for him to sing for you. However, it was unusual for him to sing an Earth song.

"Stay awake, don't rest your head," he slowly began, making your eyes--which you hadn't realized had closed--snap back open, "Don't lie down upon your bed."

He couldn't place where he knew the song from but, for some reason, the lyrics came with a foreign ease. "While the moon drifts in the skies, stay awake don't close your eyes."

Glancing down to check on you, he watched your eyes begin to droop again. Acting carefully, he began petting your head, further coaxing your tiredness. "Though the world is fast asleep, though your pillow soft and deep," he continued, dropping his voice to a lower volume, "You're not sleepy as you seem. Stay awake, don't nod and dream . . ."

Just as he'd hoped, your head fell limp on his chest. Releasing a breath, he leaned down and gave you a kiss. Then, he relaxed against the hammock, enjoying the feeling of your beating heart and peaceful breaths--simple things he was so thankful that you'd been given a second chance at possessing.

Taglist : @eywas-daughter @pturnersblog @bombshe77 @faatxma @scryarchives @gamorxa @222krn @ellabellabus07 @perfectprofessorloverapricot @raefoxi@egirl @vampxra @itssiaaax @tinkerbelle05 @brittclass-18 @missroro @aisylazzy @leomatsuzaki @joey-hoey @eternallyvenus @mae-is-crazy

#jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully daughter #protective Jake sully #jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully x you #avatar way of water #avatar 2009

[suugarbabe]

Saving Grace V||

Chapter 7 | FINAL CHAPTER

Word count: ~2.9k

Warning: fluffy fluff

an: this is the LAST chapter. I will not be adding any more to this series. I loved writing it, but it’s time to move on to the next. I’m totally open to asks about side details or mini blurbs if you would like but otherwise we have ended with saving grace 🖤 not proof read either sorry xx

Featherlight touches along the outside of your arm are what woke you from your slumber. You turned on to your back only to be welcomed by velvet soft lips attaching themselves to the underside of your jaw. You couldn’t help the smile that spread to your face, “Good morning to you too, Teo.” You felt him smile against your skin, “Every morning is good when I wake up to you in my bed.”

You duck further into Mattheo’s chest as a pillow is thrown toward the both of you. “Can you guys not be so sickening in the morning, you’re going to make me vomit and I haven’t even fully woken up,” Draco’s morning rasp make his complaint sound more serious then he truly meant, but you and Mattheo laughed all the same.

“You’ll never be in a relationship with that attitude, Cousin,” Mattheo teased the older boy, only to be told to sod off as Draco rolled back over. Mattheo turned back to you, “We’re not sickening are we? Have I gone soft?” You pecked his lips in a chaste kiss, “Never, darling. You’re still intimidating, don’t worry.”

Mattheo smirked at you humoring him, “Well, Princess, I hope I’m not intimidating to you because I have something to ask.” You raised your eyebrows in anticipation, “Go on.”

He rested his palm against your cheek, his eyes filled with adoration. He traced the apples of your cheeks with thumb, wetting his lips with his tongue before he spoke. “Angel, would you do me the honors of going to the Yule ball with me?”

The grin that appeared on your face must have been infectious because Mattheo mirrored it immediately. “A thousand times yes,” you grabbed hold of the back of his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. He hummed against your lips, slightly stunned at your boldness but soon echoed your passion, grabbing hold of your waist and pulling you to straddle his hips.

He sat up, lips still connected, tongues battling for dominance as his hands squeezed and needed at the flesh of your thighs and bum. You ran your hands down his strong chest, nails raking against the muscles on his abdomen eliciting a low groan from Mattheo. However, before anything could get too heated, three pillows collided with your bodies, all thrown from different directions of the room.

You broke apart from Mattheo, grabbing hold of a rogue pillow and whipping it at the nearest bed to you. “Ow, what the fuck, Mattheo control your woman,” Theo was rubbing the side of his head where the pillow had connected.

Mattheo grinned, giving your bum another full squeeze, “She’s uncontrollable, Nott. You’d know if you had any balls third year.” You gasped, mouth in a wide smile as you smacked Mattheo’s chest. He grabbed hold of your wrists, leaning in for another kiss amidst the groans of his dorm mates.

Xx

The next two weeks were a whirlwind of planning for you; planning your dress, planning Mattheo’s dress robes, planning your hair, your makeup. Thankfully, Pansy, Ottie, Darcy and [ ] were by your side the entire time. Unsurprisingly Pansy had agreed to go with Draco to the ball, but what was surprising was your other three friends agreeing to go with Enzo, Theo and Blaise.

You were thrilled that your friends would be able to go with the same group as you; this made going dress shopping more enjoyable. You had fought Mattheo for two days about him buying your dress; eventually, you lost, but that also meant that you could pick any dress you wanted, regardless of the price tag.

That is how you ended up with the floor length emerald number you were in whilst getting ready with the rest of the group in your dorm. Green really was your color, and the slit that ran up to your hip was sure to drive Mattheo mad, which you were more than happy about. Once your hair and makeup was done, you and the other girls made your way down to the common room to meet the boys.

As you descended down the stairs, Mattheo’s back was turned, talking with his cousin and the rest of the group. Even from the back he was handsome. His dress robes fitting him perfectly, showing off his strong broad shoulders and lean back. His curls seem to fall perfectly from what you could see and it made your heart race in your chest at how lucky you really got all those months ago.

With a nudge from Draco, Mattheo turned, his face dropping in awe. Mattheo’s breath seemed to still as he took you in, how the green silk seemed to hug you in all the right places, how your black strappy heels wrapped around the small of your ankle, how the necklace your mother gave you sat perfectly in the dip of your collarbone; you were an angel ascending from Heaven, there to finally take him away.

Your hand on his cheek finally pulled him from his trance, “Seems you’re the one off in a daze this evening, Teo.” Your smile was teasing but Mattheo couldn’t help the bashfulness that spread across his cheeks. “You look…absolutely ravishing, Princess. I don’t know how I have been so blessed to be in the presence of an angel tonight.”

Your cheeks burned scarlet at the compliment. Draco rolled his eyes beside you, “Oi, you’ve already got her to date you, cousin. No need for the sappy sentiments. We’re gonna be late.” Mattheo scowled at the older boy, his face calming only when you laced your fingers with his, “Why the rush, Malfoy. Your group is notoriously late, tonight is going to be no different.”

Enzo hooked his arm with Ottie’s as he led the group toward the common room exit, “We prefer to call it ‘making an entrance’. And with you on my arm, love, it will be the grandest entrance of them all.” Ottie blushed, looking down to the ground.

You faked a gag, turning to Mattheo, “We were never that bad, were we?” Mattheo shook his head, seemingly agreeing, however Blaise was quick to speak behind you, “I’m sorry, were you not just with us two minutes ago. Bruv was essentially making up his own Shakespeare back there.”

You stuck your tongue out, Blaise doing the same in return. Mattheo gave your hand a light squeeze, silently assuring you he liked being cheesy with you. The group made consistent small talk on the walk to the Great Hall. Mogonagall and Flitwick standing at the entrance and welcoming students.

The hall had never looked so beautiful to you. Instead of the four long house tables, there were instead many round tables along the outside edge of the hall. A stage had replaced the head table in the front, a band playing light music for dinner time. The enchanted ceiling displayed light glowing clouds with different constellations in the background popping in and out with the different movement of the simulated sky above.

As you sat, Mattheo to your left, you crossed your legs. Mattheo’s eyes nearly bugged from his skull as your entire left leg was displayed due to the slit in your dress. His large hand immediately spread across the top of your thigh, “Are you trying to kill me, woman? Or get someone else killed?”

You batted your eyelashes with innocence, “Why would you kill someone?” A playful smirk was dancing on your lips. Mattheo was unsure if he was aroused or scared by this; possibly both. “Princess, I’m not sure if I could control myself if some tosser got a look at half of your body being displayed right now.

You had to suppress a snort, “Mattheo, hardly half my body is out. Bit dramatic you’re being.” Mattheo’s grip on your leg tightened slightly, sending a jolt to your core as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “You know I don’t like to share what’s mine, Princess.”

Goosebumps were surely rising on your neck from his breath being so close, but you did your best to keep your composure and earlier teasing nature, “I thought you said before it didn’t matter what I wore, that it was okay because what was it you said,” you tapped your chin, pretending to wrack your brain for the phrase, “Oh, that’s right. Because you could fight.”

Mattheo’s smirk made you smile, “Is that what you want, pretty girl? You want me to fight on this special night?” You placed your hand on his thigh, mirroring his earlier gesture and giving it a light squeeze, “Well, seeing you fight does rile me up a bit.” Mattheo grinned as he leaned close to you again, catching your lips briefly before you were pulling away with a hand on his chest, “Wait, why is tonight special? What have you got planned, Riddle?”

Mattheo’s confident facade faltered slightly, his eyes going wide and him stumbling on his words, “W-Oh, just, you know, just that it’s a ball and it only happens once a year.” He captured your lips quickly in a bruising kiss, seemingly distracting you for the time being before going back to conversations with his friends around the table.

After dinner, the real music began and students began flooding the dance floor. It was nice to see everyone relaxing and enjoying the night together, regardless of house or status. Even Draco was loose and relaxed, dancing jovially with Pansy. As the upbeat music began to change to a slow song, you felt a familiar palm rest against the curve of your bum.

Mattheo’s lips brushed against the shell of his ear, a smile evident on his lips even though you couldn’t see him, “May I have the honor of this dance?” You turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I would love nothing more.” Mattheo’s hands rested on your hips as you both swayed to the music playing.

“I wonder who you would’ve ended up here with if I didn’t heroically save you all those months ago,” Mattheo smirked. Without missing a beat you wittily replied, “Probably Theo.” Mattheo squeezed your hips, causing a small squeal to erupt from your lips, “I’m kidding! I dunno, can’t really see myself here with anyone else but you.”

He must have not expected such an honest answer as a tint of blush coated his cheeks. “I think I would’ve asked you.” His statement took you off guard, “Wha-wait, really?” Before you had come up to him that day for help, you and Mattheo had never even spoken before. Glances sure, but no more than any other person from any other student, or so you thought.

You could tell Mattheo was getting nervous, his eye contact with you less frequent, gnawing on his bottom lip as he searched for the right words, “I, erm, sort of had a bit of a crush on you for a while. I know Enzo told you, Theo can’t keep his mouth shut for shit.”

The laugh the left your lips caused Mattheo to smile, relaxing a little more as he continued, “Cousin had been encouraging me all summer to just approach you when the school year started, I just…didn’t know how. So when you found me that day in the hall, begging me for help I just…I saw it as an opportunity to spend time with you, get to know you. And you could get to know me.”

“So when you said this arrangement could help both of us…” you trailed off as Mattheo nodded. “I meant it was helping me get closer to you. Hopefully helping you get to know me. The real me, not what everyone paints me out to be. The Dark Lord's son, the broody bad boy with no heart. So when we started all this I was over the bloody moon. I know I was being selfish with all the touching and stolen kisses.”

“To be fair, you did warn me,” you smiled at him. “Yeah, I did,” he laughed, “and then you said you were falling for me. Merlin, I thought I just won the fucking Quidditch World Cup I was so happy. I don’t think I’ve come down from that night, the happiness I feel when I’m with you. It’s never ending, Princess. I-I, erm…”

You placed your hands on either side of his face, holding him so he had to keep eye contact with you. You could see it in his eyes, the raw emotion he was feeling, how hard it was for him to be this vulnerable, you decided to make it a little easier on him. “I love you, Mattheo.”

If you had a camera you would’ve taken a picture of the smile that elicited Mattheo’s face, pure joy rang in his eyes before he crashed his lips to yours in a searing kiss. “I love you so much,” he mumbled against your lips, “I love you,” kiss, “I love you,” kiss, “so fucking much.”

You giggled against his lips, pushing his back so you could properly talk again, “I love you, too, Mattheo. Really, really fucking love you.” He kissed you again, this time more fiercely, not caring where the two of you were or who was around. He bit your bottom lip, pulling back lightly as he groped and grabbed at your bum before you slapped his arm in warning, “Teo! Not here, wait till later.” While your tone did not match your warning, Mattheo ceased his assault on your lips and body, “I’m sorry, love. I just can’t resist you.”

Mattheo could see the gears turning in your head as your brows furrowed, “Is that why you said tonight was going to be special? Because you were going to tell me you loved me?”

Another blush dusted across his cheeks to the tips of his ears, “Too cheesy?” You shook your head, taking your bottom lip between your teeth, “No, s’just perfect from someone who saved me.” You cupped his cheek, tracing the curve of his cheek bone with your thumb, “I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for what you did for me.”

Mattheo’s smile turned devilish, “I think you’ve thanked me plenty, but I have another idea or two if you’d like to try them out.” You laughed lightly, slapping his chest playfully. “Mattheo Marvelo, you dirty minded man.”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Can you blame me? Look at you, at this dress,” he spun you around, “bloody gorgeous, my love. I could take you back to my dorm right now if you’d let me.”

“So do it.” Your bold statement caught him off guard, eyes widening. You couldn’t suppress the smirk that graced your face, “You’re not dreaming, Teo. I’m being serious.” You twirled one of the curls framing his face around your finger before letting it go.

Mattheo didn’t even give you time to properly say goodbye to the others before he was dragging you toward the dungeons, having you a giggling mess the entire time. He had you pressed up against the corridor walls several times on the way down, leaving what you were sure were bruising kisses and marks along your neck and collarbone.

“Mattheo,” you giggled breathlessly as he had you pinned against the wall beside his dorm door. “Hmm,” he hummed against your skin. “I love you.” He looked up at you, pupils blown in a mix of love and lust, “Merlin I could hear you say that every day for the rest of my life.”

You pulled him in by his collar, lips brushing against his feather light, “That’s the plan.”

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#Mattheo riddle #saving grace series #saving Grace chapter 8 #saving Grace final part #Mattheo riddle fluff #Mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x y/n

[madnessr]

Vagabond

Vagabond — wandering from place to place without any settled home

Poly Lost Boys x GN Reader Synopsis: Forgiveness is a fickle thing. When four souls find each other, the world finds its equilibrium once more; until the absence of another tips the scale forever. What happens when a familiar face shows itself back at the boardwalk after twenty years of absence?

Warnings: slight angst, lots of historical information in the beginning

Word Count: 3k

By issuing the Declaration of Independence, adopted by the Continental Congress on July 4th, 1776, the 13 American colonies severed their political connections to Great Britain. 

You had been ten during the conflicts between America and Great Britain, young and impressionable. Your family came with Puritans, who set sail to America back in 1630. Unlike the Pilgrims, who had left ten years earlier, the Puritans did not break with the Church of England but sought to reform it. All that happened before you were born; your ancestors had settled down and spread their roots into American soil. 

You recalled little of the American Revolution; after all, you were very young back then, but you remember December 15th, 1791, vividly. Your mother couldn't stop crying that day, and your father had pulled out the oldest whiskey they had that day. America was finally severed from the tyrannical rule of George III. 

You came to understand the significance of those dates more as you aged, growing into a strong individual as you helped your family on their farm. You never intended to marry; it wasn't something you had ever desired or looked forward to. The same year you had gotten married was the day you lost your immortality; both events are related but not necessarily connected. You were introduced to the vampiric community in New Orleans, a city that used the day to sleep off the mistakes you made throughout the rambunctious night. 

You had lived through the formation of the Constitution of the United States of America in 1787 when the founding fathers sought to implement more structure into the now independent country. 

The infamous whiskey rebellion. American drunks apparently were not too keen about Alexander Hamilton implementing a liquor tax to try and raise money for the national debt; asserting the federal government's power back in 1794. 

Only nine years later, the Louisiana Purchase happened in 1803. The small land purchase for only $27 million created room for the states of Louisiana, Missouri, Arkansas, Iowa, North Dakota, South Dakota, Nebraska, and Oklahoma, along with most of Kansas, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, and Minnesota.

Throughout the 1810s and 1830s, you had moved on from New Orleans and left for New York, seeking human connections and reconnecting with the younger generations. During that time, the Battle of New Orleans in 1815 and the Monroe Doctrine in 1823 seemed to fly past you. 

Then, signed on February 2nd, 1848, the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo finally brought closure to the Mexican-American war. At this time, you were no stranger to political conflicts anymore, and the stench of blood and sweat staining battlefields was, unfortunately, no stranger. 

Life moved on regardless, no matter the horrid realities life provided. For a short while, life had finally come to a stand-still, guns tucked away as the world in America resumed its development. Until April 12th, 1861, Confederate troops fired on Fort Sumter in South Carolina's Charleston Harbor at 4:30 A.M., A day that changed America forever, the beginning of the American Civil War. 

The Emancipation Proclamation, The First Conscription Act, The Battle of Chancellorsville, The Vicksburg Campaign, The Gettysburg Campaign, The Battle of Chickamauga, The Battle of Chattanooga, The Siege of Knoxville. The list continued, and the coppery smell of wasted humanity tainted the air, the wind carrying the cries of victims throughout the nation. 

The war ended in the Spring of 1865. Robert E. Lee surrendered the last major Confederate army to Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox Courthouse on April 9th, 1865.

The number of soldiers who died throughout those four years eventually got estimated to be around 620,000.

Only 47 years later, on July 28th, 1914, the Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated, beginning the cruel trench warfare of World War I. In early April 1917, America aided the effort to join a war to end all wars. You had entered the war effort, like everyone capable at the time; from soldiers to nurses, everyone gave aid. 

On November 11th, 1918, the war ended. Although the Allies won, you found no reason to celebrate. Not when mothers sold their homes since there wasn't a reason to have a multiple-bedroom house anymore, when graveyards overflowed with the dead, when people mourned their losses, when mothers' only answer to their missing sons was a notice declaring their child missing in action. 

The stock market crashed in 1929, kicking off the Great Depression that would last for more than a decade. 

On September 1st, 1939, Germany invaded Poland. Kicking off World War II and beginning one of the most brutal warfare's, Blitzkrieg. On May 8th, 1945, Germany surrendered. After the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan surrendered on September 2nd, 1945, and the Second World War came to an end.

The war ended, and the surviving soldiers returned with missing limbs and broken spirits. You were a firm believer that humans were not meant to witness so much death; it tainted them; it dulled them. Although you were a vampire, a creature supposedly made for horror, you could not forget what you had witnessed in only the span of 21 years. 

You were 201 years old now, relatively young in the grand scheme of time, but you had lived through a few of the greatest horrors the world had ever seen. 

189 years of traversing the lands, you watched grow in a desperate search to find one of your own. Since you were turned and left New Orleans, you had not met a single vampire. You watched with sorrowful wisdom in your eyes as the world passed through you, virginity in people's expressions you wish you had. A gaze untainted by warfare, civil unrest, and brutality. 

Although you have met the occasional human to brighten your own world, it did not cure you. Your search was desolate—fruitless. 

Your feet had carried you to Santa Carla, the year now being 1963, and just as the five stages of grief had settled on acceptance. You bumped into a group of four rambunctious bikers that would change your life forever. That had been the first time you had met, and you had continued to live together, going on to live through the Civil Rights movement and grieving the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr.

But on August 12th, 1967, you left Santa Carla. Your absence is only justified by a delicately written letter standing in your place. You had grown to love the boys, but you had lived differently compared to them. 

Marko and Paul were younger vampires than you, having been turned while The Great Depression was bulldozing America. Dwanye had been older, abandoning his immortality in the 18th century along with David. All of them possessed the innate ability to move on from the past, a talent you, unfortunately, did not possess. 

No matter how hard you tried, you could not find peace or excitement in the future. The uncertainty corrupted you, tormented you and your experiences, so you left. Not with the intent to abandon but to sort out whatever you had to sort out. Away from the prying eyes of those you loved, those who you did not want—couldn't disappoint.  

Santa Carla, the town you had never been able to forget. It was 1987 now; twenty years had passed since you had seen the four vampires. You had missed them—a melancholic weight having nestled its way into your heart ever since you left. You regretted the way you had left through a simple letter. A cowardly move; you were wise enough to understand that. But at the time, you couldn't bring yourself to say it to them. How could you? Look someone in the eyes, someone like you—your own pack that never did anything but love you—and tell them you were leaving? 

You didn't have the heart, and if you were a little more honest, you didn't have it now, either. But you missed them more than your hurt pride by walking what felt like a walk of shame as you wandered around the busy boardwalk. One thing you never could get used to was the constant shift in fashion, it felt like the ins became the outs overnight, and you never were able to keep up with it. 

Bright colors were the most fashionable now, with teased hair and loud makeup. You enjoyed it, your knowing eyes watching over the crowd. The smell of hairspray permeated the air, wafting towards you as you passed people. Bulky and oversized clothes were spotted throughout the crowds, some men and women wearing specific member-only jackets. Ah, it seems the surfer nazis still haven't given up on Santa Carla yet. 

The amusement park was new; back in 1867, the boardwalk had small shops littered around—like a market. Originally it mostly sold food and groceries, fish caught fresh from the sea, and farmers selling their produce. 

How has the pier changed so significantly? If it wasn't for the bold, attention-seeking sign that said Santa Carla Boardwalk; you would've thought you were at the wrong address. But stepping on those old wooden floorboards of the pier that occasionally creaked or sunk under your feet was an all too familiar feeling. The smell of salt, rotting seaweed that had washed onto the shore, and the fresh street food made you feel all too at home. 

It felt like you had never really left. 

Your appearance had changed quite a bit since you left Santa Carla, so you didn't expect either the boys or Max to really recognize you. But although you were willing to stay under the radar for the boys, Max was another story. He was a head vampire, a coven leader, and therefore needed to be notified of your presence. 

Entering Max's video store made you feel nostalgic, the same old grimy bell still hanging atop the doorframe signaling your arrival; you had been the one to put that there to originally annoy Max. You were surprised he kept it. The wooden floorboards and furniture gave off a distinct, homey smell. You had been there when the store was built, and the shiny coating across the floors now had grown mat, occasional wood panels brighter in color than before. 

"I never thought I'd meet the day I saw you walk through those doors again." 

Turning around, you met the stern gaze of Max. His outfit made you smile, a desperate attempt at blending in with the crowd. Max was always a stickler for blending in; if he had no intention of turning you; you had no business knowing who; or rather what, he was. 

"It's good to see you." 

"I'm flattered, but I doubt that I am the sole reason you returned." Max always carried that knowing tone, as if he's watched out every move you'd make before you made them. It reminded you that Max had a coven before the boys and you, one he rarely conversed about. Perhaps Max really had seen this turn out before, but analyzing that surprised expression, you could only assume who had left never did come back. 

"How right you are," You sighed, shoulders dropping as you hopped onto the cashier counter. It was before opening, meaning you and Max had some time to chat privately. 

"Twenty years is a long time," Max hummed, a low and almost chiding tone. "What made you come back?" 

"To us, it isn't," You weakly argued back. The cumbersome feeling, or rather an awareness that you were in the wrong, was nearly unbearable. You were smart enough to understand that denial was a fruitless endeavor, and yet you couldn't help but let those desperate attempts escape you. 

"For people waiting for you, it's an eternity." Max sighed in a calm but chiding tone. Although Max never did have to scold you the way he did with the boys, from not committing arson to preventing fights. Max instead focused his guidance towards you on a more emotional level, the morality; a bit ironic being taught by a vampire—but he did his best. 

You glanced outside, through the glass walls of Max's shop, watching the bustling crowd pass you. Twenty years to a vampire was nothing, but somehow the short span of time felt arduous. Why did you come back?

"I never intended on staying away forever. I knew that when the time was right, I'd return." You explained, stealing a quick glance at Max. The older man had a frown etched onto his face, eyebrows furrowed as his own gaze lingered on the rambunctious humans outside. So unaware of the constant and unrelenting passage of time. It was cruel to be immortal; the passage of time no longer hindered you. But emotions are bendable and are the only aspect of ourselves that remains from who we were. Emotions were mortal. 

"Santa Carla has changed, Y/N. It is not what you left behind; they are not the same as they were alongside you." Max recalled, his voice disapproving. 

You knew Max was correct; you knew deep in your wrenching and twisting gut. You jumped off the counter, your feet hitting the floor like gravity had shifted around you, sinking your body into the floor. "I know," you knew; perhaps the boys didn't even want to see you; they could curse you out and send your name to hell for all eternity. They deserved to do it too. 

But they loved you once, and perhaps you can't help shake the feeling that they might love you again this time too. 

Max sighed, walking over to his front door and twisting the closed sign around, and pronouncing the store now open. Each tap of his foot, synced with his steps, was like a thundering echo inside you. It prompted you to get up and to provide closure for the others. You reach the door, opening midway before Max leaves you with some parting advice. 

"I hope you find what you came here for, Y/N. But the time might be right for you now, but it might not be for them."

You nodded, not looking back as you walked out of the store. The air was warmer, humid from the ocean breeze mixing into the air, the notorious assassin for any styled and teased hair due.

Laughter was one of your favorite sounds. As cliche as that might sound, it felt rejuvenating to hear. Whether it was a loud cackle mimicking the call of a hyena or a high-pitched wheeze or whistle. There was a beauty in people's expressions, how their noses tended to scrunch up, or how others held their stomachs and nearly doubled over. Laughter was infectious, and you loved observing the dopamine spread to others. Strangers connecting over a similar sense of joy; there was a beauty in it. 

The boardwalk was filled with it, people brushing shoulders against shoulders as they walked. Groups cackling and shoving each other as they enjoyed the youngness of the evening. Music booming from different directions, punks blasting the newest rap or metal music, hippies tuning out to a gentle jam, but the loudest seemed to be a distant concert down the boardwalk and closer to the pier. Like a bee sensing some honey, you followed. Dodging the occasional passerby, ducking out of the way from shop owners lugging their merchandise around. 

The music got louder, and a small thread of excitement seemed to push you further, faster. Your small stroll transformed into a quickened step, your ears guiding you and your eyes following the crowd. The music was loud; a tight smosh-like pit had formed before the stage where people grind and brushed against each other to the beat of the music. 

Looking around, you scanned the faces of teenagers and young adults. There was an eager but dreaded nervousness to your gaze at the thought of seeing a face that looked familiar. But it wasn't your eyes that caught their presence, but rather your sense of smell. 

 Copper. 

Although it was harder to pick up when the wind stills its prancing, the occasional breeze led you further towards the pier. Away from the smosh pit, and where people stood to enjoy the music but not risk getting mulled over by a hormonal teenager. 

There they stood, strikingly familiar. Although some of the fashion had changed, most of their originality stayed intact. That tiny red flag tied around Dwayne's waist was something the two of you had stolen from a stingy bar owner back in 1964; Markos jacket still had all too familiar patches sewn into its denim fabric; Paul still wore those bracelets you gave him, and David wore the most prominent reminder of you, his oversized coat. 

The wind picked up around you, a cold and mocking breeze flowing through your hair and betraying your presence to the four men you had left behind all those years ago. One by one, heads lifted, smiling ceased, and laughter died. Although you had spent years preparing yourself for this moment, nothing felt so gut-wrenchingly real than standing before them. 

How do you look someone in the eyes after you've abandoned them?

How do you move past that moment when the world around you stills and halts. When you lose yourself in the blear of the world when mortality reaches its hand around your heart and squeezes. A vice-like grip, a feeling blooming within your chest so heavy–so unspeakable. When you see those eyes, recognize the sorrow behind them and realize you were the perpetrator. You were the one who put that agony, that sadness there.

The burden of your actions ties itself around your throat like a noose, tight and unyielding, as you realize the cruelty was done by none other than yourself. And there is no way, in any shape or form, you could reverse the damage you've done. Pain is immortal, it might yield to its throbbing, but it never forgets. 

A world with your boys back in 1967 exists now only in your memory. The four men, cold as the autumn waters, were your reality now. 

"Hello, boys."

#the lost boys 1987 #poly lost boys x reader #tlb #the lost boys marko #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #tlb x reader #tlb paul #tlb david #tlb marko #tlb dwayne #dwayne tlb #paul tlb #marko tlb #david tlb #laddie tlb #star tlb #the lost boys star #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys #tlb fanfic #tlb x you #tlb headcanons #tlb imagine #the lost boys paul #the lost boys michael #tlb michael #michael x reader

[cool-fancier]

Hidden Flames

Synopsis: You and Bada stunned everyone at JustJerk Academy with a passionate duet, sparking comments and speculations from fans about your undeniable relationship. Your real-life romance was kept a secret behind the dance, yet it was impossible to ignore your bond.

The atmosphere at JustJerk Academy was electric that evening. Students crowded into the dimly lit dance studio to watch a spontaneous dance battle, which was causing a buzz of excitement. It was today when you and Bada would perform the dance duet you had been practising for weeks to the seductive music of "Señorita"

The audience split apart to form an impromptu dance circle as the music filled the space. You and Bada were in the middle, surrounded by curious viewers.  There was a moment of uncertainty, but the connection you shared was undeniable. You gave each other a subtle nod as you started to dance to the beat.

You two had an evident chemistry that carried over into your dance with ease. With each step, you and Bada painted a picture of passion and desire thanks to her precise movements and your grace.

The dance's daring lift and dip routine was its high point. You were wrapped by the strong arms of Bada, who swiftly and expertly spun you around in her grasp.  She lowered you as the music grew louder, the surroundings becoming increasingly hazy. The audience let out astonished gasps, and the energy in the room rose to a fever pitch.

Bada brought you back up into a closer embrace as your bodies squashed against one another and your breaths mingled. The students' loud clapping and cheers were evidence of the undeniable chemistry you two shared on the dance floor.

You and Bada went to the sidelines after the performance to gather your breath and enjoy the joy of the moment.  The fellow dancers were talking about the show nonstop.

"That was amazing!" While giving you both a pat on the back, Lusher exclaimed. "You two are like a dance couple in real life!"

With adoration on their faces, Kyma, Tatter, Minah, Cheche, and Sowoen nodded in agreement. Minah added with a flirtatious smirk, "You two have some major chemistry."

You two couldn't help but smile knowingly as the compliments and comments flowed in. Little did the rest of the world know that you two were more than just dancing partners.

Later that evening, the academy's YouTube channel published the official footage of your "Señorita" dance performance. The first comments from fans arrived quickly.

@BadalovesY/n: Who else saw the chemistry between Bada and Y/N?❤️‍🔥

@DanceQueen:Seriously! They are burning up. I love them so much.🫶🥰

@BadaLover: I've already seen this one hundred times. Y/N and Bada are such a fantastic team. I hope they dance together more often!

@SecretbadaShipper:I'm sure I'm not the only one who believes that this is about more than just dancing. #BadaAndY/N4Ever 😉

@Y/NisBada's:I don't know who to be jealous of 😒😅

Fans continued to speculate about the relationship between you and Bada in the comments that kept coming in. Some shipped you together openly, while others spoke about the possibility of something more beneath the surface.

You and Bada laughed together as you looked through the comments, and you two exchanged flirtatious glances. You were aware that your relationship was private, but even the fans watching from a distance couldn't deny the amazing spark you two had.

"I wonder if they'll notice if I would've snuck a kiss?" jokingly teased Bada as she came in closer and spoke in a seductive whisper.

You couldn't help but smile as your heart skipped a beat. "Well, there's only one way to find out." You both laughed at this point because you knew that even if your love was kept hidden, it was a strong force that was unstoppable even when it was in the public eye.

#bada lee x reader #bada lee #swf2 #swf2 x reader #bebe #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee x y/n #bada lee x oc #bada lee fanfic

[doumadono]

hello

i'm incredibly sorry to ask for this emergency request

but would it be okay to ask you to write comfort for suicide thoughts with hawks or aizawa? I understand that you may be uncomfortable with it, so it's okay if this ask won't be fulfilled

thank you either way and have a nice day!

Aizawa & Hawks with s/o having suicidal thoughts

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

Aizawa

Aizawa, typically reserved, expresses concern when he notices the change in their behavior, demonstrating his deep connection with them.

Rather than pressing for details, Aizawa lets his partner share at their own pace, creating a safe space where they feel comfortable opening up.

Aizawa would stay up late, ensuring he's there when his partner needs to talk. His gruff exterior softens as he listens attentively, providing a safe space for them to express their darkest, suicidal thoughts.

Aizawa understands the power of silence. Sometimes, they'd sit together without saying a word, knowing that just having someone by their side can be reassuring.

With a rare smile, Aizawa offers words of encouragement, acknowledging the struggles they face. "You're stronger than you think. I believe in you, Y/N. Please. I can't lose you, baby."

Aizawa works with them to develop a structured routine, focusing on small, achievable goals to gradually overcome challenges.

Aizawa helps them establish a routine, emphasizing the importance of self-care. Whether it's making sure they eat properly or get enough rest, he takes practical steps to support their well-being.

Knowing the therapeutic effects of physical activity, Aizawa suggests training together. It becomes a way to release pent-up emotions and build a sense of achievement.

Aizawa encourages them to engage in activities they enjoy. Whether it's reading, drawing, or another hobby, it becomes a positive outlet for their emotions.

Aizawa gently encourages seeking professional help, emphasizing that heroes aren't just those who fight villains but also those who face their inner battles.

Aizawa assures them that they're not alone in this journey. "We'll face this together, one step at a time."

Aizawa helps them connect with friends and build a support system, reinforcing the idea that seeking help is a sign of strength.

Hawks

Hawks, perceptive as always, notices a change in their demeanor. Without prying, he gently encourages them to share what's on their mind.

When they finally open up about their dark thoughts, Hawks listens attentively, his wings wrapping around them protectively, creating a comforting cocoon.

"You're not alone in this, you know. We're a team, remember? Let me share this burden with you," Hawks says, his voice calm and reassuring.

Hawks takes them on flights, providing a unique perspective and a momentary escape from the darkness.

Hawks uses his playful nature to bring laughter into their lives, understanding that humor can be a powerful antidote to despair.

Hawks is affectionate, expressing love through hugs, kisses, and words of affirmation. "You mean the world to me, and I'll always be here for you. I know those thoughts are super overwhelming but I know how strong you are."

Hawks encourages them to explore creative outlets, channeling their emotions into something positive. Whether it's writing, painting, or another form of expression, it becomes a therapeutic outlet.

He shares stories of his own struggles, highlighting that vulnerability is not a weakness, but a strength that can connect people.

On difficult days, he surprises them with small gestures of affection, whether it's breakfast in bed or a note expressing his love and support.

Hawks collaborates with them on setting achievable goals, celebrating every small victory together. "We'll conquer this together, darling."

Hawks paints a vivid picture of a brighter future, reminding them that each day brings new possibilities and opportunities for happiness.

#emergency request #aizawa fluff #shota aizawa x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa headcanons #mha headcanons #bnha headcannons #hawks x you #hawks fluff #keigo takami x you #mha hcs #takami keigo #keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami x y/n #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks hcs #bnha fluff #mha fluff

[mggsv]

JJK! Manga Spoilers | G . S .

They called you a Star..quite literally. You were the perfect little wife for Satoru Gojo. The Gojo clan saw you as only fit for their little one at the time. Your family sold you off quite quickly, didn’t they? You remember looking at the little arrogant boy while he stared back at you with nothing good in his eyes. Scared as you held your mother’s hand while herself and your father did the signing of papers. Leaving was the hardest. There was a tight feeling in your chest when around Satoru Gojo. That must be the Star in you.

It was said long, long ago, another Star like yourself was also compatible with someone of the Six eyes. They had loved, tied together by the forces of the universe, a string connecting them of an unspoken reason. It’s said the two together would create the most powerful being. Those two did not make it to that point. Star’s were uncommon. Taking centuries and centuries and centuries to have another one, the world simply stopped depending on the rare creation. However, the Gojo clan took action early.

So..as you stood now, standing there in front of the home, you held your hand to your chest. That same aching feeling you once had so, so long ago returned. A wife! You had heard many things about Satoru Gojo as a sorcerer. Very strong..the strongest. You were quite strong too. Being a Star- the only one seen fit to be his other half.

You watched him appear before you. Grinning. It was suffocating. Everything felt tight, your chest, it hurt almost. You hated anything to be tense, but it had made do. It was right. It’s as it’s supposed to be, as it had been for years.

You had fallen quite quickly, however, with the idiot Satoru was you bickered quite a bit. Friends. You became friends before lovers. Once married it got worse, but he never made you anything but happy. Satoru had admitted to you that he also had a tight feeling in his chest. It felt lighter when he left to go be the teacher that he is, but it also longed for you when he was away. You felt the same. No one apart from the both of you and your families knew you were married, you didn’t mind it being that way. Going out in Tokyo without anyone bothering you..

You’d see him sometimes with his students, though. It was cute, watching him annoy them as much as he does you. A best friend he became. When he came home, you always had something new to show him. Gojo admired the light in your eyes while you attempted to cook, something new you picked up. You were a spoiled child, not having much to do for yourself. By the next weekend he’d come home, you’d have something new to show. This time it was something crafty like crochet. Satoru loved every little bit of every little thing you picked up. He enjoyed the time you spent together, always.

He even apologized for the state you were in, neither of you having the choice, but as he said… “I don’t think I can imagine anyone else other than you.”

You loved him. He loved you. He was is your husband for fucks sake. Satoru Gojo. He told you everything when he could. You learned about his best friend Geto, about his old battles. You learned about Megumi and what he meant in Satoru’s life, as well as his father. You learned of Yuji Itadori and his situation, and of Nobara and how much Satoru secretly spoiled her. You learned of curses you hadn’t known about as well.

He told you things about your cursed energy that you wouldn’t dare use. As powerful as you were, you were also destructive. That didn’t change you- you’d never become a sorcerer anyways.

One thing you did find out, though, was that loving Satoru Gojo was hard. You loved him but everyone else did, too, and if they didn’t, they wanted to kill him. He always came home taking about the day, about the things he’s encountered without a scratch. You were always there to watch how he acted mentally. The real him. The one that frowned when he talked about how stressed he felt after a battle- about how much he hated the situation going on at the school- his life. Satoru Gojo wished things were different all the time.

“If it were up to me, we’d all be somewhere safer. All of us. What do you think about..I don’t know- abandoned island bought with the Gojo clan’s funds all to ourselves and then we bring everyone, start a village, tax them, and then start this big economy and make bucket loads?!”

He was insane that Satoru Gojo. It made your heart hurt, knowing that someday..things won’t always be so bright and sunny outside. You loved the sun, it was always such a nice day at your home. You started gardening and kept at it, always showing Satoru your little cucumbers growing.

“Someday,” He had said to you once, “that’ll be you.”

The sun was such a thing for you. It shined on him..you loved it. He was truly a beautiful soul. Until one day it rained, thundering. You hated the thunder, but Satoru had took care of it. The first time..he had took care of you in that way. His heavy pants against your ear, hands intertwined with yours. Your eyes, filled to the brim with pleasureful tears, Satoru’s cock slipping past your tight ring. You were warm. Engulfing him inside of your heated body. You had moaned his name, trembling. He took his time, explored every inch of your body. Filling you…and then again. It was a rainy weekend, and Satoru wanted to stay there for eternity.

You started to love the rain after that. You loved Satoru. He loved you.

“Shibuya?” you spoke into the phone. It sounded busy as Satoru chuckled. “Yeah..there’s something going on. Look, It may be a while before i’m home again.”

“Toru-“

“I love you.”

Satoru Gojo has been sealed.

The phone call from Mei didn’t end well. You couldn’t sleep that night.

Satoru Gojo has been freed!

“Baby- I was so scared I..come home. Please.”

And he did. But he didn’t stay. It rained that night. He made love to you. He cherished you. He filled you. He was determined..

“I love you.”

By the morning he was gone.

Satoru Gojo fights Ryomen Sukuna.

Satoru Gojo loses.

Something inside of you snapped, as if a string had been cut. Somehow, you knew that Satoru Gojo wouldn’t be returning.

#jujustu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo #satoru #jjk gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo angst #jjk manga #spoilers #manga spoilers #jjk manga leaks #jjk anime #jjk gojo #jjk sukuna #sukuna mentioned #female reader #fem reader #gojo and f!reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #angst #v chats 🐚