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vampiric-hunger · 2 months

Text

𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕕𝕖

pair: Ascended!Astarion x female! spawn !reader

tags: no y/n is used, rating - E, teasing, biting, choking, blood drinking, fingering, spanking, verbal degradation (mild), reverse voyeurism, PIV, praise kink, dirty talk, blowjob, begging, cum, facial, reader is quite cheeky in this one, plot what plot

summary: meetings, forever boring, never quick enough. you're irritated that no one seems to be able to stay on track and Astarion is not helping at all, he's enjoying the gossip. it's time you move things forward if you want to leave the Council Room before whole day passes without anything productive being done. but Astarion is not too happy that you take initiative without his permission. he'll punish you for this and you will make sure to enjoy it.

word count: 6,931

a/n: written for a friend. thank you so much for many many fun times <3

for @rhiaden

Slow. So slow. The sun coming in through the windows, the chatter of men and women, the sound of shuffling papers. It’s like time itself has slowed down in this moment. Your eyes sweep around the room and you see all the familiar faces that you have seen many times before, even in this very same room. Some laughter. You frown. This again. Why nobody just gets on with the meeting, you don’t want to spend the rest of your morning here.

The tapping of fingers to your side begs for your attention and you glance over almost absentmindedly.

“Darling, you’re scowling again, you know that scares them.” Astarion mutters so that only you can hear and you resist the desire to roll your eyes. Of course they are scared, that’s deeply ingrained in their nature after all, to be scared of those who don’t bend or bow no matter the circumstances.

“I’m just waiting until they pick up the topic again.” You give Astarion’s tapping fingers a short glare and he stops immediately then looks around. He’s not fond of these meetings either even when they are, in their own way, mandatory.

“It might take a while unless someone makes them focus on the task at hand. You know how they get - most of them gather here to gossip and share secrets that belong to someone else.” he responds with a small grin and looks back at you, his gaze meeting your eyes.

“You are here for the same reason.” you lift your eyebrows at him and Astarion chuckles lightly.

“Perhaps. But that’s what’s fun, love. Gossip, not this…” he waves his hand trying to emphasize a thought that you know very well.

He never has been a details person and he didn’t suddenly become one after he took his place as a Lord. He’s learning though, you can see that much. From others and from you, and it makes pride swell in your chest. Lord or not - he’s still the one you love and want to see succeeding.

“Listen, I’m not going to sit here all day looking pretty just because they can’t keep themselves on track.” you tell him and Astarion pats your hand that’s resting on the table. He looks like he wants to say something but then you both hear his name being called out. For a second you notice a shade of annoyance pass over his face before your lover composes himself and plasters on a perfectly pleasant smile.

He stands and pulls at his doublet, straightening it out, then gestures over the room.

“My dear patriars, why don’t we get back to our topic?” Astarion asks loudly, making the room fall silent and all eyes turn to him. He pauses for a moment until every last person present stops shuffling around or moving and starts paying him full attention. “Let’s not forget why we’re here, shall we?” his charming smile is as beautiful as ever even though you can see how fake it is. He hates these meetings, after all.

“But what can we even do, Lord Astarion?” one of the nobles asks and you don’t need to look who it is to recognize the voice with ease - he’s one annoying man you wouldn’t mind getting rid of yourself. “The assassination attempt just tells us that we have to be careful about who we cross!” what a coward, you almost scoff.

“Yes, we should be vigilant but now there’s a spot open in the council. Why don’t we try to find a suitable candidate for it?” Astarion keeps his little smile and you have to keep yours down. The assassination, after all, was your doing. Astarion even has a new candidate picked out, he only needs to make others see why they should vote for this newcomer.

“So who do you propose?” another voice and this time you look at the speaker. Lady Lyssa is probably the oldest member of the council but so far she has not been trying to interrupt Astarion’s schemes. Good for her.

At the question Astarion glances at you, wanting to receive your confirmation before he announces his chosen but you just want to get on with it. Instead of nodding to him or giving any other sign of approval, you stand up, very much to his surprise, and decide to take over the proceedings that usually take painfully long.

“We believe that Lord Folwin is perfect for this position, he has proven himself loyal and trustworthy to the Gate.” you begin and notice Astarion giving you a pointed look, but with a grin he sits down in his chair crossing his legs and leaning back, letting you take over.

A murmur washes over everyone gathered and you continue, making sure your voice is loud and clear for everyone to hear exactly what you are telling them. Wrapped up in this whole discussion you don’t really notice the intense look Astarion is giving you, neither do you notice an edge to his smile that you would recognize easily - while he’s impressed that you are quickly moving the meeting and are persuading others to agree with his selection, he’s still not entirely thrilled at the idea of you possibly thinking that you can easily upstage him whenever you wish.

By the time most of the arguments are resolved about this new candidate you start noticing something - a foot tapping rather impatiently and when you glance back at your lover his eyes immediately meet yours, burning into you with intensity of hell’s fire. You raise an eyebrow at that but turn away when your attention gets called, deciding that you can deal with whatever bothers Astarion afterwards.

And yet the tapping doesn’t stop, beginning to irritate you as you speak to the nobles, now feeling hyper-aware of it. Fortunately, the meeting doesn’t last much longer and you feel free to dismiss the patriars who start leaving the room by one or in pairs, discussing things that matter only to them.

Tapping of Astarion’s foot only stops when you at last turn to him and cross arms on your chest.

“What was that?” you ask immediately, even before the last noble leaves and Astarion raises his eyebrows at you, feigning innocence.

“What was what, my treasure?” he smiles and finally you see that edge in his features. Ah, he’s unhappy about something although you are not really sure what exactly.

“The noise.” you respond sharply and Astarion’s smile fades as if it was never there.

“I was just waiting for you to finish your little performance.” he says sounding almost casual but both of you are irritated now and it’s obvious.

“My performance?” you snap at him, raising your voice just enough to show him that you don’t want to take his attitude and Astarion frowns, standing up now.

“Darling, did you think I won’t notice?” he reaches out to you, trailing his fingertips along your jawline and you almost move away but his touch is warm and comforting, making it hard for you to remain serious.

“Notice what exactly?” you break into a grin and Astarion gives you a curious look then allows himself a small smirk.

“That you’re trying to be leader of our little meetings. Not the first time you speak up without permission.” his thumb finds your bottom lip and rubs it slowly, his eyes focused on what he’s doing and you press your palms against his chest softly.

“Permission? Since when I need a permission from you to speak?” you dip your head slightly forward and catch his thumb with your teeth, making him inhale sharply. You’re getting to him and you know it. So much for his bravado.

“When we’re in meetings discussing things of importance I need you to be compliant and agreeable, my dear.” Astarion grins wider and his fingers grip your chin tighter as he pushes his thumb into your mouth before you can bite down harder and stop him. “You see, when patriars of this wonderful city are watching, well… I can’t allow them to think that you’re the one speaking for us, love.” your lover’s eyes finally rise to yours and you see his thoughts clearly written in his expression, it’s almost as if you can read his mind just without the tadpole anymore.

He wants to remind you that he’s in charge because it did annoy him that you took initiative without consulting him first. Appearances matter, that’s something he always repeats to you. And his appearance matters most of all.

You watch his expression change immediately when you lick at his finger provocatively and bite down just a little bit stronger onto his thumb.

“Ah! Release it, darling. I need you to answer me.” Astarion scolds you softly and you are almost tempted not to follow his instruction but relent and release the digit from your teeth.

He pulls it away and steps closer now, making sure that your eyes never leave his, making you drown in the scarlet of them.

“You have to promise me, love.” he pauses while his hands find your waist and pull you closer. “Promise me that you will behave next time.” Astarion’s tone of voice is serious and you can’t help but melt at his touch, this closeness, however it’s just too much fun to tease him.

“And if I don’t?” you ask, grasping onto his doublet with your fingers and giving it a gentle tug. “You will punish me? Teach me my lesson? Oh no, how I will survive the wrath of one Lord Ancunin.” you tease and notice his jaw clench even though his smile remains.

“I always knew you liked to play with fire, but this is not something I’m willing to discuss. Either you agree to do as you are asked or I will have to remind you of your position.” he leans in and you expect a kiss but instead he whispers into your pointy ear. “And your position is on your knees in front of me, darling.”

You pause, for a moment smelling his perfume and enjoying his body pressed against yours, but you don’t want to just agree with him. If he wants you to agree and comply, well, he’ll have to show you that he’s worth complying for.

You lift your face, getting closer to his ear and smile widely.

“Is that so? If I recall correctly it was you who kneeled in front of me last time.” you whisper, feeling almost giddy because it’s true. Indeed last time he was kneeling with his mouth pressed firmly between your legs while you grasped the curtains where he cornered you. The memory sends a tingle down your spine.

Astarion pauses at your words and you gasp loudly when he suddenly bites your ear just enough to send a shockwave of pleasure down your body. Damn elven ears. You try to move your head away and he lets you as he leans back to look at your face. The grin you see on his face spells danger. But the kind of danger you like.

“Insolent little pup, seems a lesson is in order after all.” Astarion’s voice carries a promise that you won’t leave this room without being reminded that you’re his, for eternity.

“Go ahead then, teach me that lesson.” you smile to him and he frowns just a little bit, then returns your smile with a smug one of his own.

Without another word he turns slightly to the side and pushes you backwards until you’re against the table. You make a point to check if the door is closed, but finding it ajar you decide not to mention it. With growing anticipation to crown this boring meeting with something much more pleasant, the thrill of being seen by some spoiled noble only adds to your excitement.

“You’re not escaping.” Astarion misinterprets you looking away from him and you return your attention to him with a chuckle.

“Would you let me if I tried?” you tease and he grins, the type of grin that shows his fangs like a promise of danger.

“Want to try?” he asks but you’re not given the chance to answer because suddenly you feel his fingers grip at the seams of your pants then pulling at them, forcing you up the table and sitting you on the edge of it. Another moment and he easily pushes your legs apart, taking his rightful place between them. “But if you do try….” Astarion continues speaking while his fingers release the fabric of your pants and grip your hips possessively. “…I don’t promise to play nice.” with a whisper he briefly brushes his lips against yours and then his head dips down, to your neck.

You lean your head back and gasp when you feel his lips press wetly to your skin. Your hands move to embrace him, one arm around his waist and another around his neck, you tangle your fingers into his silver locks.

“Maybe sometimes I don’t want you to play nice.” you whisper, letting your eyes close as you relax into sensation of his tongue sliding across the bite marks he left you with on the night he made you his forevermore. Yet your words give him a pause and he chuckles.

“Is that so, my dearest pet?” he asks cheekily, making you smile, and you pause before replying because you begin to feel his fangs against the skin of your neck, grazing lazily, poising to bite.

You gasp when his teeth sink into your skin and you pull his body closer to yours in an attempt to signal your growing need. After a moment or two of taking a few swallows of your blood Astarion lifts his head and looks at you, amused.

“So eager already?” he taunts and you give him a look from under your eyebrows, tugging at his hair lightly.

“You are the one eager here, I just…” you pause, then smile. “Follow your lead, as you wished.”

“Funny.” Astarion licks his lips clean from last traces of your blood, then glances at the door himself, seeing at last that is still ajar. “You saw this and said nothing.” it’s not a question but a statement and you blush ever so slightly because you got caught.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared to be seen.”

“Oh, darling. Of course I’m not. If I so desire I will fuck you in the middle of Baldur’s Gate while the crowd cheers with my every claim to your body.” Astarion smiles and something in his tone tells you that he’s not just teasing, he truly believes he can do as he pleases within the city. It makes you squirm slightly because his confidence is something that always makes you want more of him, more of his touch.

“Then what are you waiting for? Didn’t you want to teach me a lesson?” you tug at his hair again, this time stronger, making Astarion inhale sharply and give you a dangerous smile.

“I’m not sure if you’re going to learn that lesson unless I get strict with you, my love.” he pauses, thinking for a moment, his eyes flick to the door and back to your face. You know it betrays your desire underneath the cheekiness that you’re displaying right now. He knows you maybe even better than you know yourself. “But fine. I’ll indulge you. If my consort wishes so.”

Astarion offers you a smile that you can’t quite read before he grabs your throat and squeezes, not letting you inhale. His expression turns to almost vicious satisfaction at your reaction.

“Good. I like that expression on my bratty little love. It fits you.” he says and steps away from you while still holding your throat, making you release your grasp on him. Without another word he pulls you off the table, making you stand on your feet and walks you alongside the table until he finally seems to have chosen a spot. “Perfect.” Astarion sounds almost gleeful now but in a way that doesn’t sound unpleasant. Whatever he has in mind - you want to experience it.

You are not given the time to read his expression and possibly understand his intentions because your lover turns you so that you bump into the table again and he leans to your face, releasing his punishing grip on your neck at last.

“Try to be quiet, little love.” there’s real threat unveiled in his words, a promise of punishment if you fail, and you know that this time he means it.

Indulging you or not, his reputation still hangs in the balance if he’s caught fucking in the Council room. You swallow dryly and nod, not even arguing anymore. How he handled you just now was enough to make your craving for him bigger than your need to be bratty with him.

“Let’s see if you can be a good girl for me or if I’ll have to fuck you like a back-alley slut to make sure you listen to me.” Astarion grabs your hips and turns you around, then his hand shoots up and grabs the back of your head, forcing you over the table and you finally realize why he pulled you here - from your position you can clearly see the open door.

That bastard.

You grin to yourself but then pause as your eyes widen in short surprise because you feel Astarion’s hand slide underneath you, finding the buttons of your pants. He really does intend to fuck you here and your head swims with the promise of pleasure.

“You’re so naughty, you know that, right?” Astarion murmurs as he works your pants and you smile, almost shivering from anticipation, not resisting, letting him do what he wants. “You always try to provoke me and you always succeed.” a squeeze on your neck tells you that he is in fact irritated at your earlier behavior and you have to fight yourself lest you chuckle audibly.

“I was just doing what I thought was right. The meeting was going nowhere with the pace it was crawling at.” you respond and glance at the door, for now relieved that you don’t hear anybody approaching. You don’t want to be interrupted before he fills you in that deliciously familiar way you can’t get enough of.

“You always say that.” Astarion replies and his hand slips from under you, then his fingers curl around the waistline of your pants and yank it down your hips, exposing your rear. Another yank on your pants and they end up somewhere near your knees. You bite your lower lip because you don’t want to respond, you don’t want to risk stopping him.

Astarion easily elicits a gasp out of you when his fingers press between your legs, right against your clit and rubs it slowly, teasingly even.

“Quiet now.” he reminds you and you just hum in agreement, moving your hand closer to your mouth just in case you need to silence yourself. Your eyes do not leave the maw of the open door but your focus is entirely on what you feel - his fingers and the arousal that quickly makes you feel as if your body is on fire. He knows what he’s doing and he’s good at it.

Your lover continues for a while, making your body shiver and your legs tremble until you give in and allow the table to support your weight entirely. You remain quiet the entire time, just breathing heavier when a familiar pleasure begins to build. You say nothing, enjoying yourself but then gasp in protest when his fingers retreat. You want to move your head, to look at him with a question of why, but the grip on the back of your neck is not relenting so you remain as you are, with your cheek pressed against the wooden tabletop.

“Not so eager, darling.” Astarion says with a smug chuckle and if you weren’t so much in need to have him fuck you, you’d reply. However, your own desire right now overrides your wish to tease him further.

But you fail to obey him. Just a moment after he says those words to you, you feel his two slender fingers slide right into your cunt and you moan, forgetting your promise not to. Astarion’s hand immediately leaves your neck and he smacks your rear, leaving a sharp sting in its wake.

“I told you to be quiet.” he hisses and you let out a quieter moan but then a louder one when he slaps your rear again. “What did I say, hm?” his tone is harsh but laced with his own evident desire. You know he’s hard if not leaking for you already. “If you’re going to moan like a cheap whore, then I’ll have to fuck you like one.”

You swallow heavily, your need almost choking you now and you move your head when you hear his movement, but don’t get to look at Astarion standing behind you. You just feel him push his fingers deeper into your sopping core and his other hand comes into your view.

“What are you doing?” you ask, unsure but you hear only a low chuckle before his fingers seek out your lips.

“Open, my precious spawn.” he commands and you nearly moan again but part your lips for him, letting his fingers into your mouth. Two of them anchor on your lower teeth and tug at your jaw. “Keep it open for me like that, darling.” Astarion croons and you blush heavier now. He’s not making it easy for you to follow his instructions about being silent as if he wants you to fail.

With his fingers in place, Astarion begins to move his digits inside of your pussy slowly, teasingly so, knowing very well that you want it harder and faster yet not giving it to you.

“The lesson here is-” Astarion begins speaking, his tone sounding like he’s giving a lecture to bored patriars instead of having his fingers buried inside you to the knuckles. “-that you don’t like to listen, do you?” a pause while his fingers keep working, not increasing the pace just yet, and you move your hips, trying to buck them against him but he only laughs at your effort. “Nod instead of acting like a slut worth 5 gold coins.”

Slowly you nod and can’t help letting out a small moan. You want him to know how badly you need him to do just about anything else instead of only teasing you because if someone came over to the Council room and interrupted you, you’d probably kill them on spot and that would not be a good thing for either of you.

“Oh you’re always so impatient.” Astarion chuckles again and at last, gloriously, his fingers pick up the pace. But he’s not done teasing you. “You act like a little spoiled brat, my beloved consort, acting with no grace or decorum befitting your status. Do you do this on purpose? You like to be punished, don’t you?” he coos again so sweetly that you almost believe he’s going to stop any moment and tell you to pull up your pants. But you know better. You know him better.

To his words you simply nod while at the same time swallowing the saliva beginning to pool in your mouth. Your eyes are still on the door but you don’t see it anymore because all you can see is Astarion’s face and his intense, loving gaze so clear in your mind’s eye even if you don’t see him in front of you right now. You remember it so clearly because you have witnessed that face portray pleasure thousands of times already, every single time you share the joys of intimacy, whether it’s him fucking you senseless or you just pleasuring each other, trying to discover new and unique ways to make one another tremble.

“Good, you’re starting to listen.” Astarion comments and with a disappointed whine you express your disapproval when his fingers leave your core. “Now now, best is yet to come.” he chuckles and you close your eyes, moving your legs and your hips, trying to find better footing in preparation of him claiming you which he does with almost religious fervor every single time.

Another unexpected slap on your ass makes you flinch and you hum a question.

“I’ll fuck you when I’m ready, I thought I made that clear.” Astarion hisses at you again, then falls silent because you both hear the same thing - footsteps.

Dread fills you and not because you are afraid to be caught, not at all, you just don’t want this to stop here. You’re so close to getting what you desperately need right now and you do your best to keep quiet instead of expressing your frustration. His fingers on your teeth twitch ever so slightly when the footsteps get closer then stop and you both hear a male voice humming a tune making seconds stretch to eternity making you so sure this is it. But no, seems fortune favors you after all because you hear the footsteps resume, except now they echo away from the Council room.

You exhale with relief and hear Astarion do the same, then he laughs quietly.

“That was close. I hope it’s going to be worth it if we get caught.”

Your body relaxes on top of the table because you didn’t even realize how tense you became but you sigh again, letting yourself enjoy the thrill of nearly getting caught like this, it almost makes you giddy. And just to remind Astarion where you both stopped, you swing your hips again, only to receive another sharp slap.

“I swear to gods, you’re not leaving this room on your own two legs, darling.” Astarion snaps at you and you chuckle lightly but remain still.

Instead of responding to your chuckle with yet another smack on your already sore skin, he caresses the spot instead, his palm is warm and soft against the burning patch and your eyelids droop. You know he likes to play games but this is starting to become unbearable. Especially with the risk of being walked in on he’s definitely taking his sweet time to toy with you.

“I think you’re forgetting what this is all about.” your lover begins as if he just read your thoughts. “This is about reminding you who you belong to.” Astarion’s palm keeps caressing but then it leaves your skin entirely, leaving you aching for more of his touch. “And I fully intend to remind you of that.”

Vampire’s fingers seem to find a better grip on your lower teeth and you feel puzzled for a moment, but then you cry out because he drives his full length straight into you without a warning.

“How is it that you never listen?” Astarion scolds you but you hear smugness in his tone, he knows exactly what he’s doing to you and the fact that he doesn’t proceed to move is telling enough - it is a punishment, and you’re not enjoying this as much as you thought you would.

You try to buck your hips against him again in a futile attempt to get him thrusting but he just tugs at your teeth and grips your hip with his other hand.

“I’d want to hear you beg but I like when your mouth is busy doing other things.” he says in a tone of voice that tells you he’s enjoying this very much. You mewl slightly in response, trying not to be too loud now just in case he decides to prolong your torture any further but it seems that this time he is satisfied with your response. “That’s much better.” he gives your hip a squeeze and finally begins moving.

You can feel your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head from relief that you feel right now and the pleasure that envelops your body. Finally. Finally he’s giving you what you want most - himself. And sensation of him filling you at last is divine. It’s everything. It’s familiar, it’s desperately needed and it gives you a sense of being one with him. A feeling no other indulgence in this world can even come close in comparison.

Astarion’s thrusts begin slow, lazy even, in reminiscence of his teasing earlier and you moan again, wanting him to hurry up, to give it hard and fast - he made his point after all.

“Tell me you will listen to me from this point on.” Astarion’s voice reaches your ears and you nod slightly. “Do you promise to behave?” you nod again but smile too, you know your promises are empty and so does he. It’s not the first time you two perform this dance and it always ends the same. The most delicious cycle you will never tire of repeating. “I could almost believe you.” he laughs but then you feel him lowering himself over you. “Still, pet, if I hear a sound out of you - I won’t hesitate.” the warning is clear even if you don’t know what that entails. You nod once more and have to choke back a moan when he nips at your ear again, his teeth sending another shiver down your body.

Astarion’s fingers leave your hip and his palm finds its place next to your shoulder, then, after a briefest pause, he picks up the pace. Faster and harder. What started as almost gentle love-making is becoming just fucking and it’s exactly what you wanted. His hips snap against your ass, the room fills with sounds of his skin against yours and you keep your eyes open, once more watching the ajar door as if it’s a threat to ruin your fun. You try to keep silent, you really do, but more and more moans begin escaping your throat with Astarion’s increasing pace until he’s nearly punishing your body with how hardly he slams into you with each thrust. Saliva pools at the base of your teeth and begins dripping down his fingers that are still clinging to your bottom teeth while your fingers try to find a grip on the smooth tabletop.

“Shut up!” Astarion growls right above you and you try to move your head to look at him, but he does not let you because his fingers keep your face pinned to the table. “You want to act like a spoiled little brat, I’ll show you that you can take it only this far.” his tone is not seductive anymore, it’s carnal and deep and you recognize it well - he always loses himself when he’s with you, this time is no different than countless others. It almost makes you grin with satisfaction that you can get this deep under his skin with just a little bit of teasing.

His trusts assume a punishing pace, one that will leave you sore afterwards and you know it. In fact, you welcome it and try to keep your voice down but fail miserably. You don’t care if anyone comes around anymore, because when Astarion gets like this - you know there’s no stopping him. As you begin to sink into the feeling of pleasure, letting it spread through your body, you suddenly feel your lover’s fingers leave your mouth and wrap around your throat. You only manage to lick your lips before you feel yourself being pulled up, his thrusts not stopping and keeping their pace, but Astarion makes sure that your back is now pressed against his chest. His other hand moves to your folds, sensing with his fingers how he’s moving within you and you feel his grin against your cheek.

“So obedient when filled with my cock.” he says right against your ear and it makes you moan. Your fingers grasp for purchase against the table while Astarion leans his head lower and you feel his fangs in your neck again.

You whine slightly as your head swims from pleasure and you grasp onto his hand that’s still gripping your neck, yet when you do that he releases your throat and moves that same hand to your face, his wrist all bare for you. When he presses it against your lips you pierce Astarion’s skin with your fangs, drinking his blood that tastes sweeter than nectar. Vampire’s fingers still are feeling how his cock is thrusting into your cunt but in a moment or two he moves those digits to your clit and begins rubbing. It’s practiced and you shiver while he pumps himself into you, making sure that you’re fitted on his dick neatly, just like he prefers it.

And the you hear a whisper again, you didn’t even feel when he pulled back from your neck.

“You’re most beautiful when you’re unraveling on my cock.” he whispers and chuckles. “You’re such a hungry whore when it comes to me, aren’t you?” you nod, you don’t want him to stop but he pulls his wrist away from your yearning mouth and you open your eyes, trying to look at him but not being able to. “Moan for me like the slut you are.”

And you do. You let your voice fill the room, completely lost in your body being taken by your lover. Lost in the feeling of him claiming you as his and his fingers working you to your bliss. You still grasp onto his arm when he returns his grip to your throat and you let your eyes close once more, smiling when you hear his strained grunts right against your ear.

“Cum for me.” he orders and you gasp for air because he knows you’re close.

You hold his arm firmer and lean your head back onto his shoulder, giving into the sensation of your orgasm as it washes over you, letting it overwhelm your mind. You tremble and shudder, not able to focus even though you feel Astarion suddenly stopping his thrusts and just working your clit to let you ride out your bliss.

“Good girl.” Astarion whispers while you’re still at the height of your ecstasy and you feel him kiss your cheek. “My perfect consort, so easy to please.” he taunts with a grin and you mewl as you begin to come down from your pleasure.

You’re out of breath and you can barely stand straight. You probably would collapse if Astarion wasn’t pressing you against the table. With your body satisfied you are ready to take a moment to recover, forgetting that Astarion still has his lesson on his mind.

“You did well, my treasure.” he coos and you hear that he’s panting too but then he pulls back from you, his hands leave your body and you hurry to support yourself against the table before your legs betray you.

Confused and still dazed you glance at him over your shoulder, finally seeing his face that is sweaty and flushed from all the exertion but his smile is as smug as ever. He raises his hand and with one finger points to the floor.

“On your knees, darling.” he commands and it takes your blurred mind a moment to process the task at hand, but when it does you turn and drop heavily to your knees, looking up at him and trying to understand what is it that he wants you to do.

Astarion smirks and caresses your jaw, his hard cock coming into your view and even without a command you open your mouth for him. Pleased with your willing obedience he grips the base of his length with his free hand while propping your head higher and he traces the tip of his velvety soft tip against your lips, leaving trail of your own arousal in its wake. You lean in trying to capture it with your mouth but Astarion chuckles.

“Tisk tisk, darling. Beg for it.” he taps your lips with his cock and your eyes meet his before you swallow dryly, wanting nothing more than to taste him right now.

“Please, Astarion.” you begin, you were never good at this, but he always tells you what to say.

“Please, my love, let me taste you.” he instructs and you lick your lips, tasting yourself.

“Please, my love, let me taste you.” you repeat carefully but eagerly and Astarion grins wider, satisfied.

“You always obey.” he says smugly as he positions his dick at your lips. The moment you part them for him, he thrusts himself into your wet awaiting mouth, letting your lips clamp around his hard shaft. “That’s much better.” Astarion exhales with satisfaction and you can see it clearly in his face with his eyes clouded from pleasure. “I do like when you talk, but I can’t resist silencing you.”

His hand tangles in your hair while he’s pushing himself deeper into your throat but he’s careful not to push too deep, almost gentle now, letting you begin to bob your head instead of thrusting his hips against your face. You watch his expression, so beautiful when painted in colors of lust, and it makes you eager to please him. His satisfied smirk remains on his lips and stays there while you keep swirling your tongue against his shaft, feeling the bulging vein with the tip of your tongue, caressing the tip of his cock gently, all while you suck on him with dedication only an eternal lover can show.

“Mind the fangs, darling.” Astarion comments and you have to tame your smile to keep focusing on pleasuring him, but suddenly his grip on your jaw tightens, preventing you from moving your head and he pulls his dick out of your mouth with a wet pop. It looks beautiful in the sunlight cascading from the windows, still glistening from your eager ministrations. “Finish what you started.” he orders and your eyes search his for answers but then you understand what he wants.

This is your lesson. Utter submission.

And submit you will.

Your hand replaces Astarion’s, gripping his shaft and you begin pumping his cock with your fingers clenched firmly around it while his hand still grips your hair tight enough to keep your head in place as if you would even dream of moving away. No, you want this just as much as he does.

With your eyes locked on him you keep moving your hand, parting your lips wider, watching every micro expression on his perfect features because you know that each and every one of them is meant for you and you alone.

“Wider.” Astarion gasps, you see his shoulders tensing and you recognize the look in his eyes - he’s so close, he only needs to let go.

You open your mouth wider, eager and more than willing to make him happy right now, completely forgetting where you are and what you are doing, because nothing else matters besides making sure that he knows that you want this, want him.

“Fuck, you’re too good.” Astarion gasps and his eyes close the moment his orgasm hits.

His fingers clench almost painfully in your hair and you keep stroking his dick, trying to aim it but his seed ends on your face rather than your mouth, lacing hot webs across your nose and your cheek until you manage to aim it at your mouth and take what’s left. Astarion moans loudly and shamelessly as he empties himself with your help, your hand working to draw every last drop out of him but when he finally looks at you his eyes slightly widen at the sight of mess.

“Darling…” is all he can say for a moment while he’s out of breath, then he moves your hand away from his softening length and leans down, lifting your face ever higher by your jaw he kept holding onto through his ecstasy, then he presses his lips against yours. You only have a moment to gulp down what little of his cum ended up in your mouth and you answer his kiss before he pulls back. He chuckles and wipes his seed from the tip of your nose with his thumb. “I should clean you up before we leave but I can’t help admitting that this is a very lovely sight.”

You smile proudly and grasp at his hand, bringing it closer and giving it a kiss before Astarion helps you to your feet.

“Here.” he takes out a handkerchief, beginning to wipe your face with a smile on his lips. “I don’t think you learned your lesson.”

“Maybe I’ll need another reminder later?” you ask with a grin and Astarion raises an eyebrow.

“It’s dangerous to let you out of the palace.” he laughs and you smile even wider now, feeling mischievous again while you let him get your face clean.

“You love it.” you say and tuck him back into his pants while Astarion rolls his eyes at you.

“You say like you don’t.” he comments making you laugh, then you receive a kiss on your cheek. “You did well.” he whispers to you and you smile.

“Oh I know.” you respond smugly and Astarion pauses then sighs as if he’s fed up but you see playful embers in his eyes.

“You’re going to be so much trouble, aren’t you.” he leans down and helps you pull up your pants. You button them up quickly and then grasp at his doublet with a fist, bringing his face close to yours.

“You wouldn’t dare to stop me.” you smile and he grins right back at you.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #lord astarion #ascended astarion x female reader #reader insert #x reader #female reader #astarion #astarion x reader #ascended astarion #astarion smut #astarion x female reader #ascended starion smut #ascended!astarion x reader #ascended astarion x reader

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moodymisty · 1 year

Text

Sound Asleep

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙| 𝕬𝖔3]

Author’s note: I’ve had this little snippet jumbled up in my phone's notes for longer than I’ve currently been on tumblr, so I decided to finally clean it up. I have so many little things like this scattered across my various devices... Help.

Relationships: BOBF!Boba Fett/Fem!Reader (I only say that because of one usage of the nickname 'princess' there's no pronouns or specific body parts mentioned.)

Warnings: A little bit of crying, Nightmares, Age gap if you squint so hard your eyes actually hurt, Cuddling, Fluffy fluff, Mean ol' Boba being a bit of a softie

Word count: 1220

You swore you hadn’t had a nightmare since your childhood years; But even then, you couldn’t remember one like this. It had all felt so real, almost touchable. You sit up awake in a daze still feeling as if it had just happened.

Jolted awake in the middle of a cold Tatooine night your hair is just starting to stick against dewy skin, heart pounding in your chest. With a few kicks of your feet you push the blanket off of your body, wanting the air to cool your flush skin, and to stop that almost strangling feeling.

You’d fallen asleep down here because of how tired you’d been, and the trek upstairs to Boba’s personal room had seemed like leagues away; Without any surety that he would even return there before you awoke the next morning. He was a busy man, sometimes rest wasn't a guarantee.

So you’d slept in your old personal room he’d given you after he brought you to Mos Espa, but now you're wishing you hadn’t. It feels so lonely in here, the room feels giant and the shadows an abyss but at the same time suffocating.

When you manage to get your heart to stop thumping on your chest so hard it feels like knocking, you slowly lay back again with your head hitting the pillow. The ceiling is cracked- your eyes following the black string down past your feet before you dare to close your eyes.

But when you open them again, the room is still dark with not a hint of light from the windows. It's as if your body was forcibly stopping you from sleeping, still spinning in whatever your mind had dreamt up. And even as your eyes feel tired and body heavy, there's no amount of quiet breathing and counting that is letting you fall asleep. The knot in your throat tightens, back of your neck aching with how tense it is.

Eventually, the constant tossing and turning proves too much to handle, and you lean up and turn to slip your legs off the side. They dangle for a moment, hands clutching the sheets as you decide if it's worth it.

Was it worth trekking what seemed like lightyears up to someone who might not even be there? Or should you stay here and lay back trying to see if you could get even a few moments of rest before the suns start rising?

Bare feet gently hit the slightly rough, sandy floor with a soft pat, the light in the room just bright enough to see around. It was a straight shot to the door, and you slowly slip off the bed before softly opening then closing it. The steps up to Boba’s private room were tall and winding, and each one felt progressively harder than the last. At least none of the droids are around, you wouldn't want even the the stars outside to see you in this sorry state.

Once you reach the top of the steps, it's easy to open the door and slip inside. The door opens to a pale glow of moonlight, and you can see Boba’s outline. He's already awake; Leaning upright.

There’s patterns deeply ingrained in him and sounds are a big part of them; The soft opening of a door or footsteps were always things that set him alert. When he sees it’s you, easy to tell by the silhouette he can just barely see through the flowing fabric of your nightclothes, it’s enough to lull those alarm bells in his head a small bit.

And with a gravely, sleep coated voice, Fett calls to you.

“Need something, princess?”

His tone is almost taunting, teasing, but you don't respond to it with any of the usual quips. When you step deeper into the room, Boba can more clearly see the ragged expression on your face. The way your body is turned into itself. He makes no noise; Instead pulling the thin blanket back revealing more of his bare stomach.

“Come here, little one.”

You don’t need to be told twice.

Bare feet pattering across the floor you walk to him and place one knee onto the bed, before hefting yourself into it and slipping underneath the blanket. Within moments you feel his chest against your back, an arm wrapping around your waist. One of your hands grasps his while the other lays empty, and you feel his chin on the top of your head.

He doesn’t ask what happened to render you like this; He knows nothing he could say would help with it anyways.

What does seem to help is just him; As it’s not long of you curling up around his arm like it's your life line that you’re finally asleep. He can hear the soft sounds of you breathing, the way even in your sleep you're attempting to fruitlessly hold him tighter. You have his arm in a death grip, and any attempt to pull away would surely wake you.

Fett doesn’t quite know how to feel about it. That he’s let you come so close to him that you feel safe, reassured he isn’t dangerous enough that you can be lulled asleep like this. These aren't clean hands you're holding.

But if you want to be here, you'll be here. He'd never refuse you.

He's no stranger to nightmares and terrors either, though he's had longer to learn to deal with them than you. His mind is more armored, less feeling. It's how he's learned to be.

Fett, not long after he sees that you've for sure fallen completely asleep, decides to stop watching you with such soft eyes; And get some rest himself. He doesn't get too many chances to do so.

When you wake up you can still feel the ache of a headache now passed, but your body doesn’t feel as tense as the night before. It requires a bit of an odd angle to raise your head, rubbing your eyes blurry as Boba's torso moves upward so he can look down on you.

“Going to let me go?” Fett watches your hands tighten even more against his arm, where it had been locked most of the night. You'd been gripping it like a lifeline, the only thing holding you to the ground.

“No.” Fett lets out a chuckle, one deep from his chest and still raspy with sleep. You can feel it in your own chest, as he raises up on his other elbow.

"Can't stay here forever, princess." His arm flexes in your hold, just about to pull away from you. Quickly you tighten, making a noise from your throat before you can get out the right words.

“Wait! Boba, just- Just a few more minutes?” His hand halts, but his eyes still bore down at you. The soft skin of your fingertips brushes against a myriad of scars, as you fruitlessly attempt to hold him still. He's placating you, as you know well he could easily just pull away and leave you alone.

"Mos Espa can wait a little bit," You say, holding onto his larger hand. He relents, and lays down on his side again; Pressing his bare chest against your back again.

Maybe it can, maybe it can't; But either way he can deal with the outcome.

Join the taglist here: @simp-legend @nekotaetae @coffeyorky @lokigirlszendaya @totesnothere04 @get-wr3ckered @rebel-finn @mandoloriancookie @therealnekomari @loverofclones @fxlsealarm @crosshairs-wife @sinfulsalutations @pb-jellybeans @jediknightjana

#is this particularly self indulgent because of some irl stuff? maybe :3 tehe #boba fett x reader #Boba Fett/Reader #tbobf x reader #mywriting

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written-with-blue-ink · 6 months

Note

Hi, may I ask you about Ayato x reader who is strong and independent, but she/they like when their partner is protective about them? Be strong and independent is good, but sometimes I think that people right now forgot how comfortable it's feeling when you have person which you can trust and who will take care of you when you have bad day or you feel more fragile etc. I have this problem that I put on myself pressure that I need to be strong 24/7, no place to rest, cry etc, but deep inside I want have opportunity to feel more fragile sometimes. I hope you understand what I want to say. Have good day <3

I got you, i took it in a more literal sense but I think you might like this <3

My Savior

Ayato X Reader

There was something to say about the relationship between the Commissioner of the Kamisato Clan and his Personal Bodyguard. People knew the two were dating but most didn’t know how the two of them came to be except their close proximity.

The Commisioner, as the most eligible bachelor is Inazuma, was a very indirect man. Born to a well-off family and in a position of power, Ayato was always quiet and silver-tongued when it came to his position.

(Y/N) on the other hand was born to a poorer family, but their expertise in all sorts of combat quickly had them climb up the ranks of the Shuumatsuban. Almost the opposite of their partner, they must’ve been the most straightforward person in Inazuma who was unafraid to speak their mind or get into a scrap over it.

The two together though were a sight to behold. Ayato pleasantly watches as (Y/N)'s fights in tournaments or (Y/N) subtly shows her disdain for someone's idiotic idea and the two share a look. Silent communication as partners was ingrained into their relationship

The day started off like many others, Ayato and (Y/N) went to the far edge of Inazuma city to scope out the location for a festival in a few weeks. You could faintly see the outline of the old fox shrine off in the distance and the statues that dotted the landscape were perfect for the remembrance put on by the Grand Narukami Shrine and the Raiden Shogun.

(Y/N) played with the cryo vision that hung around their neck as Ayato inspected the land. Eyes glancing at where the stalls would go versus the game stands, neither noticed the shadows moving closer.

“Hey-Mph,” (Y/N) stated as someone grabbed their arms, restricting their movement and causing Ayato to turn around to see nobushi, at least eight of them walking up. Two of them held onto (Y/N)’s arms as they stood still, glancing at Ayato in surprise.

“Well well, Commissioner,” the leader, a kairagi in purple armour, stated coming out from behind his henchman with a deep, booming voice. “Now, I don’t want to hurt you or your little partner here. Just put your hands up and come with us. You’ll be fine till we get the mora for your return.”

Ayato’s attention was never on the kairagi, always on (Y/N) whose eyes met his with a sense of confidence and the slightest, almost imperceivable nod. Quickly and without a word, (Y/N) swung their legs up, contorting their body to knock out the nobushi on their left, a ray of frost seemed to coat the impact on his chest.

Taking the opening, Ayato swiftly moved forward, summoning his blade and slashing the nobushi on (Y/N)’s right so they had full range of motion.

Stumbling forward, (Y/N) caught their partner’s shoulder to catch themselves. Summoning their catalyst with their spare hand, a sweet smile appeared as they muttered, “Thank you.”

Ayato simply nodded, eyes glancing at them for a split second to meet admiration and love in their eyes. Shifting the attention back to the armed enemies, he watched as they pulled out their blades and got into position.

Raising his sword, Ayato analyzed his enemies for an opening…. Luckily he didn’t have to wait long.

“Okay, time to pay, assholes,” (Y/N) shouted, running up and decking one of the ronin’s noses and knocking the hat off her, covering it in ice and frost before throwing another punch and landing another blow right in her abdomen.

Letting out a small chuckle, Ayato released his stress as he rushed forward, taking out two of the disgraced samurai in a single attack.

Both focusing on the battle, Ayato barely saw the kairagi lift his blade, preparing to strike his partner’s back without their knowledge. Instinct kicking in, he left the nobushi and put himself between the blade and his love.

The sound of metal on metal rang in (Y/N)’s ears. Before they could even turn, they heard Ayato’s voice mutter, “Mind the deluge, my love.”

Drops of hydro energy fell from the sky, landing in their hair, they understood the opportunity this made. Pivoting onto their right foot, (Y/N) went around Ayato’s left. They leapt, landing their foot in a small opening of the kairagi’s armor and the combination of the cryo and hydro froze the man in place.

(Y/N) continued to pummel the frozen man, breaking the ice before refreezing him after each strike. They only stopped when the body fell to the ground, ice shattering as the man lay there knocked out cold.

Turning around, they saw their love over the rest of the nobushi who were also on the ground. Letting out a sigh of relief, they stumble forward and rest their forehead on his collarbone, wrapping their arms around their side. Taking a second to inhale the scent of clean linens and cypress, "Thanks for saving me.”

“Of course,” Ayato cooed, returning the gesture and kissing their hair softly, “I’m just glad you are safe.”

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato #inazuma men x reader #inazuma #genshin x reader fluff #genshin headcanons #genshin impact #inazuma genshin impact #ayato x reader #ayato x you #ayato x y/n #ayato x gn reader #kamisato ayato x you

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nikethestatue · 9 months

Text

So I've been thinking about this.

The Inner Circle, as we came to realise, isn't exactly perfect. It's a stagnant place for the 5 people that had occupied it for so long. It's a relationship of secret resentments, lies, half-truths, and mistrust, and while the Archeron sisters relationship is wrought with issues, compared to the IC, it's based on honesty. These women don't always like each other, also resent one another, are frequently annoyed and unhappy, but they don't hide. They don't hide their natures or their feelings.

Here is what's interesting: Rhys looks at the IC with these absurd, rose-coloured glasses. He doesn't want to 'interfere' with the Moriel x Cassian, situation, offering the pretense of him being uninvolved and simply an observer. He CHOOSES to not see things around him--chooses not to see Mor, chooses not to see Azriel, and generally expects Cassian to just go along with everything. The lies that they've been telling each other for centuries are so ingrained in them, that the moment someone new arrived--Feyre--Rhys immediately began feeding her the same crap he's been so keen on accepting as truth for so long. 'Azriel is madly in love with Mor' and 'Azriel's been hoping/waiting for the bond to snap' and 'Azriel's been pining for her non stop for 500 years'. And naturally, Feyre, seeing that all-important confirmation bias, begins to 'see' the same thing. She begins to trust and believe Rhys's opinions as if they are facts.

But these 'facts' don't coincide with realities. Feyre finds out that all of these people have had numerous lovers throughout the centuries. She finds the dynamic between Cassian and Mor and Azriel odd and begins to question Rhys about it. He, as always, tries to sweep it under the carpet and tells her not to interfere.

Yet, who is the first person who questions the bond between Lucien and Elain? Feyre. And what does she ask? She asks 'why not make them (Azriel and Elain) mates?" Because from her fresh, new perspective, which isn't coloured by deceit and BS, that's what she immediately notices, and feels innately--why aren't Elain and Azriel mated? It feels right to Feyre that they should be. On the flip side, what does Rhys do when he confronts Azriel? He immediately slides back into the familiar status quo of 'What of Mor?" It's almost like he can't fathom that something 'unsanctioned' by him should be taking place in his Inner Circle.

Nesta--another Archeron sister, who is keen on seeing things as they are, and telling things as they are--sees her sister with Azriel, and immediately notices that something charged passed between the two of them. She sees it at once, as soon as she observes them together, whereas her 500 year old mate is still unable to comprehend as to what might have caused these changes in Azriel. It's at Cassian's fingertips--and yet he still can't put two and two together.

Lastly, what does Azriel say about Elain? That she was 'well aware' of why he was avoiding her, and that she could always see through him. What those who were closest to him and who seemed to have known him the best couldn't understand or acknowledge about his behaviour, Elain just...knew.

The sisters coming into the IC is probably the best thing that could've happened to all those people. People hate Nesta for being rude to Rhys and not liking him, but it's because SHE can see him for what he is. Not this idealised version that Cassian and everyone else seems to believe, but the real him.

Same with Feyre, to whom Mor is finally able to come out. She couldn't do that with anyone for 500 years, but Feyre saw, and understood her.

Elain, the quiet, gentle Elain, is refusing to bow to the bond, and questions the expectation of male entitlement to her time and affections. When Rhys immediately falls back to 'well, Elain and Lucien are mates! We shouldn't be going against that, we shouldn't be starting wars or blood duels, and I forbid you (Azriel) from pursuing her' Elain is finally offering a new stance on the bond issue.

I love seeing these three girls shaking things up and opening some eyes and some wounds.

#the inner circle #the archeron sisters

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reztoru · 1 year

Text

───── Music of the Forest

彡 Satoru is on a journey of coming to terms with his feelings for you, and he's come to find that the music his soul yearns for dwells within you, wherever you may be.

tw / cw : fluff and a tiny bit of angst? there's a happy ending ,, tobacco is briefly mentioned but not used for smoking lol, slight jjk 0 spoilers ,, i think that's all but lmk if i missed anything

pairing : gojo x reader

gender neutral, no physical descriptions of reader

a/n : born out of my love of the forests and inspired by a stsg painting I did. im so happy with how this turned out.

kinda me coded with a tiny tiny sprinkle of my own culture, but I think I kept it vague enough for everyone to enjoy.🫶🏾

w/c : 3.1k

Satoru has a knack for being a pest, at the best and worst of times. He needs to nourish his brain with information, desperate to know what causes people to tick. And as he’s grown older, he’s found himself observing the crowds around him a lot more.

He takes note of the way their energy engulfs them with the different emotions they endure. He sees how their anger is jagged and rude, or how their happiness appears in serene waves. Annoyance comes in spikes and sadness drizzles down.

And today is just another day for Satoru. Sat in his office, playing with a pen, avoiding work. Choosing to observe silently at the surrounding people. Seeing as they moved room to room, it was rather dull.

He became intrigued when he saw you wandering into the spooky forests. Mostly because you're someone he’s never gotten the opportunity to know. Thus, he couldn’t help but follow along — anything to get out of this boring paperwork.

He makes the hasty decision to teleport himself right next to you. Which caused him to startle you, popping up out of thin air like the menace he is. You tried giving him a smack, but his infinity stopped you, foiling your plan. Instead, you opted for scolding him. Warning him that if he was going to come with you, he best keep his mouth shut.

It was hard for him to abide by the single rule. Satoru being the never quiet man, always with something to say, and now with so many questions swirling within him.

“So, you wanna tell me why we’re sitting in the middle of the forest?” He said.

You shot him a look and shook your head, “I come here to heal, to think, whatever I need.”

He nodded slowly, pondering on your words, “and the forest helps to do that how? You eat berries and feel better?”

Rolling your eyes, you pat the spot beside you, telling him to listen. And he did, though he hadn’t really understood at first. He’ll admit the wind was gentle, it was calm. You could hear the leaves moving and the wildlife scurrying about, but nothing felt healing about it — well, he certainly didn’t feel healed.

However before he could prod at you further, you reached over to pull something out of your bag. It was a small sack of brown flakes — tobacco, loosely wrapped in a red cloth, with little beads tucked into a design on the chunk of it. And he was left feeling even more confused, especially after you stood up to scatter some about.

“It’s an offering. I’m giving back what I’ve taken.” You said as you turned to face him. Almost as if you could read his mind.

Yes, you were a mysterious person to Satoru. Sitting in the middle of nowhere to heal your soul. Sprinkling brown flakes on the ground like you were seasoning the earth. It just made no sense to him, but you did seem content every time you emerged from the trees; looking more at ease.

And he couldn’t help but tag along with you whenever he could. Wanting to know what this was all about, what you were all about. He’d poke at you, bombarding you with questions on the occasions that you’d begrudgingly allow him to.

Slowly, you became a part of his routine, ingraining yourself in his already busy schedule. And these trips into the forest turned into getting lunch rather late in the day, or coffee a little too late at night. And your woodlands started to become too familiar to him.

It began with you asking him to come along and get a drink and then it was a picnic. After a while, these things were almost routine and if he wasn’t able to stay and chat; he made it a point to at least stand in line with you before he had to go.

During that time, he began to know you on a more human level, getting to understand how your gears turned. And during these fleeting moments he learned how you like your coffee, your favourite food and color. He also learned of the way you heal; the way you replenish your mind. It’s so vastly different from the way he literally refreshes his brain — it’s so mundane in comparison.

“I just don’t get it.” Satoru said, sipping his overly sweet drink.

You sat across from him, swirling your own beverage with a straw. Your leg bounced as your eyes met your own in the reflection of his imposter sunglasses.

“Well, maybe you haven’t found your music yet.”

“I have music,” he gasped, “like that one song by Avicii- “

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. Your theme song,” you snickered, “this music is different, though. It heals your soul.”

You’d always tell him that his sound will find him, as it does with everyone. When the time is right, you’d say. He wasn’t able to wrap his head around your words, and he’d preach to you time and time again about how he didn’t get it. But you’d only ever roll your eyes and shake your head at him, “be patient.”

This was something that his eyes couldn’t give him answers to. Because even someone as godly as him was unable to fully comprehend it through sight alone. It wasn’t cursed energy, or some grand battle tactic. This was a reminder to him that there are boundaries and limits to what even the most powerful beings can understand. And this is something he had to experience on a deeper level, beyond the realm of vision.

When time rolls on, he starts to hear it. The sound of a distant melody. It was the brassy thrum of his heart when you’re near and the dewy pitch of your voice. And your rippling cackles that crashed through him. Though, it’s a little scary at first, this feeling isn’t new — and it’s certainly one he wasn’t hoping for a sequel of.

Because when Satoru falls, he falls hard. And it’s not a soft pillowy fall by any means. It’s in a way where he crashes and burns. His love scorches him and claws at his heart. Taunting him with what’s barely in his grasp — and that of which has long since left.

His feelings linger in his brain and dance deep within his core. They seem to flow through him in a more complex way, taking twists and turns that are difficult to predict. It’s all a little unnerving to him — you’re a little unnerving to him.

As he drifts away into his thoughts, he thinks to himself how you bring nothing but uncertainty. You’re a storm rippling its way through his steady breeze, bringing chaos in your pursuit. Though he supposes your rain is a kind of refreshing that his abilities can’t provide. And you leave behind a beautiful burst of colours when you go.

“You okay? You look kinda stupid with that lost look on your face.” You asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m a little busy right now.”

You give him a look, one that makes him feel a little too small. It feels a little too personal, and it’s a bit too knowing, as if you were the one who wielded the six eyes.

“Mhm right. When you’re done sulking, there’s this new bakery that I wanna check out.”

Admittedly, he feels a little giddy with the knowledge of you wanting to go out with him. Maybe his heart skips a beat right after the words leave your mouth, but he tries his hardest to brush it off and ignore it because this feeling doesn’t have a home in this wretched place of his.

It’s because he knows love is truly the most twisted curse of them all. It’s a swirl of every emotion under the sun and it can swallow you whole. One wrong move and everything could fall apart. There’s no manual for how to navigate through this sticky feeling, and there’s no right way to do it either. It’s as beautiful as it is cruel.

You add the fact that there’s a constant target on his back. People want him dead, curses do too. Logically, he knows that having you is selfish, it puts you at risk. Because allowing himself the pleasure of loving you is a losing game. And for that reason, he chose not to play; to be somebody who only watches as the show unfolds.

Thus, he tries to keep his distance, never letting his sickly emotions take the reins. But it seems the harder he tries to pull away, your soul holds him a little tighter; enticing him back in.

“Look, ‘toru!” You point to a group of funny looking mushrooms, with eyes shining so brightly they could put the sun to shame.

Your smile reaches out to grasp at his heart, holding it tightly, not wanting to let go. That’s when he swears the world stops; or something cheesy like that. The pieces of his heart crash around in his chest and he forgets how to breathe — how to move, how to function.

He sputters out, “Can we eat them?”

“Yes, or we could pick them and sell em for a fortune.” You let out a mischievous chuckle, “I’m only giving you a percent of the profits though, you already have too much money.”

He doesn’t know why he asks what kind of mushrooms they are, because he already knows. In fact, most of the things he listens to you ramble about he’s already quite knowledgeable on. But he gets to listen to your damn voice, and your attention isn’t on anybody but him as you explain these little interests of yours.

And he thrives in your rays of light. He almost seems to forget what emotion this is and what it entails. But maybe, he thinks, just for a moment, he can be Satoru, the annoying guy who gets under your skin, rather than Satoru Gojo, the strongest with the all-seeing eyes.

And it’s not until some faculty meeting that he realizes he’s down bad. Every time he tries to listen to what Yaga is saying, his orbs wander to you. He wonders if you’d want to get dessert later, or if you’ll invite him on a little picnic again.

It seems Satoru just gets lost in you. It’s become so blatantly obvious to everyone around him. Shoko nags at him and tells him to just go for it. Saying things like, “You’ll regret it more if you don’t.” And he hates that she’s probably right, he hates that he has these stupid feelings even more.

“You’re acting like an angsty teen.”

He huffs, crossing his arms, “am not. I just don’t have time for that relationship stuff.”

Shoko pauses what she's doing, placing a hand on the table in front of her as she turns to look at Satoru with a deadpan expression, “but you have time for dates.”

“They’re not dates.” He mumbles.

He wants to argue. He really does, but he knows he can’t. He especially knows because he’s stumbled down into Shoko’s grim abode more than enough times, asking her what the hell should I wear.

And maybe these feelings get a little too real when he finds himself focusing on you, when he should really be paying attention to his students. Observing in a daze as you walk across the field. Your arm shoots up to give him a wave, or maybe it was a wave to everyone, but he likes to think it was reserved for him.

Or maybe it’s when he’s making a cup of coffee, and you brush against him. And he just pauses what he’s doing because he finds you so captivating. He can’t help the way his hands yearn to trace every curve. To sculpt you into the space of his mind, and create a masterpiece that is you.

But whenever you’re near, his body is always left feeling a little confused as this calm and unease both settle as lovers within him. The unrest that stems from the lack of control, that unpredictability leaves him nervous. And he knows vulnerability comes with weakness, and to be weak is to be slashed down.

When he stumbles back into his office, he realizes he forgot cream and sugar. And it’s the little things like this that make his thoughts race. His brain wants him to run far away from you. It’s telling him to leave you behind before this can go any further. He tugs at his hair, clawing at his scalp. His eyes scan for something they can’t see. He desperately scours his mind to figure out what to do.

Knock knock

And his head shoots up. He feels like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. That is, until he realizes it’s you, and then things feel a little okay. Almost as if you bring along the unspoken words he’s searching for. You don’t pry, and you don’t ask questions he doesn’t wanna answer.

Maybe that’s why he’s grown to feel this way for you. You don’t push too hard, and when you do, it’s always at the right times. Oh, and you’re always sure to bring him some proper food when you pop in to say hi. You do all these things and expect nothing in return.

You dig deeper than the flimsy mask he wears and you’re patient with these circles he finds himself running in. You don’t chase him, instead you stroll behind, cherishing the journey that you’ve found yourself on. In the end, he feels human with you.

“Did you eat something today? You look ghostly.” You giggle, holding up a bag, “I brought lunch, let’s eat.”

And it’s now, he thinks, it starts to fall into place, when he feels it the most. It’s almost as if when you’re around, a sense of peace washes over him, a feeling of calm that he can’t find anywhere else. It gives his soul a phantom sensation of being so tenderly held; of loving arms around him. It’s not just a physical sensation, but something deeper, something that touches his core.

It’s like he can feel his essence expanding, reaching out towards something unknown, as if they were two halves of the same whole. It’s a feeling of completeness, of being exactly where he’s meant to be. And when he breathes, it’s as if he’s inhaling remnants of himself; or rather, somebody foreign, yet so very familiar to him.

And it’s days like today where he craves this sound the most. Days where the world feels a little empty and dull. No amount of reverse techniques can mend the passing of a friend you once cherished so much. He doesn’t wanna listen to the talk of the surrounding people. He doesn’t want to boil in anger and sadness. And he especially doesn’t want to be left alone thinking about all the what ifs.

Like clockwork, you poke your head into this wintery office of his. You take a seat and push a bottle of water towards him, followed by a little sandwich that you probably made at home. You don’t say anything, allowing him to wither in the noise you bring. And little by little he nibbles quietly on the food you offer, sipping the water as he goes.

Your eyes find his when you break the silence, “Seriously, Satoru, are you okay?”

“Always.” He gave you a toothy grin, but his facade has grown to become useless against you.

In return, you give him a soft smile; a knowing one, “Whenever you’re ready, you know where to find me.”

Off you go again, into those trees to listen for something he can’t seem to find. His heart yearns for this sound that you speak of. It’s dire for him to know. He craves the calm you have and the peace you carry. And he wonders if you’ll ever give him a taste of it.

He lets himself linger in the essence you’ve left behind. Pondering on the events that have taken place over the months. You’ve so diligently taken care of everyone affected by the tragedy, and yet you still find the time to come to him and comfort him in a way he doesn’t know he needs.

Satoru sighs loudly, running a hand through his snowy hair. He asks himself if he could handle your death, if he could let you go. He also wonders if he’s looking too deep into this.

His heart reaches out to find your remnants, begging for your peace. It pleads for your calm and yearns for your ease. And this is when he almost subconsciously gets up to follow you along into your pillowy green song. His legs started to move before his mind could protest. It feels natural; it feels normal. Your vibrations linger on the path he follows and his roots guide him to his haven.

It’s in these woods Satoru has found his heart lies with you. It dances with you as you pull him in to move along to the sounds of your music. His heart sings a little out of tune with you in the mornings and it sways along to your memory. And as he delves deeper into these trees, the sound is clear to him more than ever.

He can hear the echoing hums that follow the wind, guiding it into the ears that are willing to listen. The leaves that dance and sing, and the life within them that stomps their feet. The wild flowers that do their best to keep up, giving to the little bees that decide to follow. And he sees how the sun shines brightly down on the whispers of the world, carrying its warmth to those who may need it.

This is where peace is found. And this is where the heart goes to heal, taking the sacred medicine and using it to prepare the soul for its next battle — whatever it may be. And this is exactly what Satoru needs; a cleanse of his broken heart. Far away from the bustling city life. It’s a place where time stands still and chooses to tenderly embrace the wandering spirits that pay it a visit.

Deep within is where he finds you, basking quietly in the light rays. Allowing your body to nourish itself with what’s offered to you. And during these scarce moments, Satoru has come to find that the music of the forest dwells within you, wherever you may be.

#𓂃 ⋆｡°﹆ ⁞ spirit writes #gojo u stupid cheesy man #i hate him sm #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #gojou x reader #gojo satoru x gender neutral reader #gojo x gn!reader #gojo x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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val-writesstuff · 11 months

Text

Not Going Back

Summary: Your past seems to catch up to you but it's not who you expected to see

Wc: 1k+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Taglist Form

Bucky paced the hallway outside of Steve’s office as he waited. He knew he shouldn't have kept what he knew a secret, knew Steve had a right to know the truth. He just hadn't found a good time to bring it up; it's not exactly breakfast conversation.

When he heard Steve hang up his call in his office, he walked in, dropping the file he had put together on the desk with a thump.

Steve raised his eyebrows as he pulled the folder closer, flipping it open to a grainy black-and-white side-view shot of a woman. A voice in Steve's head said he knew her, but he couldn't place her. “What am I looking at here, Buck? Is this some Hydra scientist we need to take care of?”

Bucky sighed and paced for another moment before lowering himself into the chair opposite Steve’s desk. “We worked closely together when I was the winter soldier. She got out a few months after I did. When I got back, I started looking for her.”

“I’m glad you want me to help you, but who is she? Why is she so important that you've been looking for her since you returned? That’s a long time to look for one person, Buck.”

Bucky didn't get nervous often, but this might be the hardest thing he had done in a while. He steeled his nerves and took a deep breath before answering. “It’s your sister Steve. She's out there."

==========

*three months later*

I chew my lip nervously as I glance over my shoulder. There's no reason for anybody here to follow me, but I can't shake the feeling I'm being watched. I duck down an empty side street and lean against the brick wall of a nearby building. I reach into the pocket of my leather jacket and thumb at the switchblade.

With what I do for a living, it was stupid to think I could stay in one place for so long. I should've left months ago, but the people were so friendly I could almost pretend I wasn't in hiding, running from a past I could barely remember.

After a while, with nothing suspicious happening, I decide it’s safe enough to head back to the apartment I had just started calling “home.” Guess that was a mistake.

I rush into my apartment and start shoving things into my bags. One bag for clothes, one for weapons, kept it easy to pack. There were certain things ingrained in my head; one of them was ‘don't own things that you can not replace’ Sure, I could leave with nothing and be fine, but it was a pain in the ass, and I liked my stuff.

I leave and head off toward where I know I can steal a helicopter. I take side streets and back alleys, trying to hurry when I get that feeling again. That itch in the back of my brain tells me somebody is watching me, but when I look over my shoulder, there’s still nobody there.

Another twenty minutes of walking pass, and I can see the airport when I hear a crunch behind me. I spin around and see a blond man staring at me. He looks vaguely familiar, but I can't place him.

Grabbing a weapon from my bag would take too long, so I'm left with only my switchblade and ability. He doesn't look like he wants to fight me, so my best bet is to run.

I turn and take off at a sprint. No regular person can keep up with me, so I should be in the clear. I'm only a few feet away from my escape when something heavy slams into my side and grabs onto me.

I look to see what it is and see a face I could never forget; he haunts my dreams. They sent my own damn partner after me. I recognize the expression on his face; it's the same one he makes on missions just before the end. Angry, determined.

With a grunt, I raise my knee and kick his chest as hard as possible. I know I'll never be able to beat him, mainly because there's this tiny voice in the back of my mind screaming not to hurt him.

"I'm not going back!" I scramble away from him and leap to my feet. I snatch the switchblade from my pocket and flip it open. My other hand flexes, and I prepare to use the ability I had spent months shoving down. "I'd die before I ever go back with you!" I spit out and glance between them. The blond still looks hesitant about this, so he should be easy to deal with. The soldier is challenging, but I can get out of here if I can just get past him.

I run towards him, and just before he reaches out to grab me, I hit the ground and slide between his open legs. Yet again, I run for my salvation, not pausing for my dropped bags.

Stupidly I think I'm in the clear when the other one grips my wrist and yanks me towards him. He wraps his arms around me tightly; my arms are trapped at my sides, and I try to slash out with my knife.

The soldier huffs as he snatches it away from me, closes it, and shoves it into his pocket.

"I'm not going back with you!" I jerk my head back and slam it into the chin of Mr. Hesitant. Winter immediately grabs me and tosses me like a sack of potatoes. I land with a grunt. I try to strike out at him, but he grabs my wrists in one hand, pinning them to the ground above my head.

"Doll, I didn't wanna hurt you, but you're not making this easy." his other hand is pinning my hips to the ground, and he's sitting on my legs, so I can't kick him off me. I look around, trying to find the other guy, when the unmistakable feeling of a needle pierces my neck. Found him.

“Fuck you!” I do my best to thrash and fight even as black spots begin to invade my vision.

Remember, likes are nice but reblogs/feedback are golden!

Tags: @charmedbysarge @cjand10

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2af-afterdark · 6 months

Note

Ok. I wrote a 2hole thing in here before with each of the angels specifically and my thoughts but it got deleted so I'll just ask for a request

DomGod!Mc spanking Gabriel?

NooOOoOooooOo. I would have loved to read that. Curse you Tumblr! Let the Anons speak!

But... Gabriel spanking... there are so many ways to go with that. A lot of the God!MC au was made before we really had a good idea of what the characters were like, so sometimes I adjust things to fit more with what I see in game. I like my version of Gabriel though, so I'm gonna made the two together here and see how it works when he's completely and utterly selfish about getting MC's attention but also acknowledges that MC is their own person.

Heaven is boring. The entire place was made to revolve around God, so little was added that would distract from being able to revere them. MC is the new God and they can see why the old one left. It's stifling to be the center of Heaven. It's oppressive to be loved by angels that revolve their entire existence around them. They aren't even sure if "love" is the right word. It's more like the angels of Heaven use MC to feel better about themselves and their place in the universe.

And Gabriel? Gabriel is the worst of them all in some ways. Okay, they all suck, but Gabriel is a special kind of suck. Gabriel is the only one that calls them but name, but there is a subtly mocking tone when he says it. Not mocking them, per se, but mocking the idea that they think they can still be only MC. At the same time, he sounds euphoric when he says their name, because he's the only one that uses it in all of Heaven. It's something of theirs that's only his and he will abuse the privilege.

Their name is sickeningly sweet as it drips like honey from his lips. It echoes in their head, beating against their skull and driving them mad. He says it so calmly, like a lover whispering in the night. He uses it so casually and with such reverence...

It makes MC feel sick.

They've asked many, many times for him to stop. They've told him that he's not allowed to use the same name as their friends. He isn't allowed to address them like that. They aren't friends!

But he keeps doing it...

Do you know the phrase "spare the rod, spoil the child"? MC is starring to understand what it means. If MC is supposed to be God now, doesn't that mean that punishing disobedience is their job? Perhaps Gabriel can be the first one they test their new duties on.

He's almost too eager to lay across their lap when they tell him to. If MC didn't know better, they would think he was smiling.

When they bring their hand down against his backside, he barely makes a sound. They do it again to the same response. They scowl as they pull down his pants and expose his bare buttom. Then they smile as he finally yelps when they hit him.

They do it again and again and again until they lose track of how many times it's been and Gabriel's ass is cherry red. The entire time, he hasn't said anything, but the sound of his cries are ingrained in MC's memory. Between each one, it sounded almost like he was praying. Not the kind for forgiveness, but the kind given in thanks.

MC feels vile afterward. Not because it was wrong, but because they enjoyed doing it. They are sick to their stomach that they allowed Gabriel to get enough of a rise out of them to do that. And they are disgusted that they want to hear him cry more. Maybe spank him until he can't sit or walk properly...

Gabriel, for his part, does not seem upset. If anything, he appears to be amused as he calls MC's name yet again just to see the shivk in their eyes turn to anger once more.

#❖ nonie #love letters ❤️#talkin' whb #god mc au #whb gabriel #whb mc

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hopewritcs · 2 years

Text

handwritten wounds.

pairing: steve harrington x reader

word count: 3k

request from @scoopsahoyharrington: Can I request a Steve Harrington x reader fic that’s a soulmate AU where you can see the red string of fate when you close your eyes that will lead you to your soulmate or soulmates can write of their skin and it shows up on the others arm?

notes: i love soulmate aus sm, they’re some of my favorite things to write. so this one is set a bit of a mix of canon and pre canon / canon divergent timeline as well, a little time jumps here and there. for now, no s4 spoilers as it’s a bit more canon divergent than the actual timeline of the show, but everything else is explained in the fic.

stranger things tag list: tba ! ( i’ve refreshed my tag lists. if you want to be added, please send me a message ! )

Soulmates. It was a term that you learned as soon as you could comprehend language. The word had been ingrained in your memory as soon as humanly possible. From what you understood, you could communicate with your soulmate on your skin.

Were you supposed to write to them first? How did you start that conversation? You’d been thinking about it more and more, about actually striking up a conversation with your soulmate. You felt almost bad, you were a doodle on your skin while bored kind of person, and your doodles weren’t always great ( mostly scribbles or stars or half finished flowers ) so whoever they were they’d be walking around with those marks too.

It didn’t help that your soulmate seemed to be writing answers to their tests on their skin. You’d wind up with homework due in english or math test tomorrow on your hands as early as fifth grade.

By seventh grade, you almost thought your soulmate had forgotten that you existed. Then again, maybe they thought you forgot about them too. Neither of you were actively communicating with each other, but you could still tell there were marks on your arms. So, you decided to finally say something directly one afternoon. In the midst of what seemed to be your soulmate studying ( there were marks on your wrist for equations ) you took the pen you’d been using for homework and decided to write.

Do you really need to study on your arm or can you use a piece of paper?

You didn’t know what to expect, but the fact that there was no response bothered you. You wanted to pretend like it didn’t, but it definitely did.

Though, the study notes seemed to stop too. Which you were a bit thankful for, though you missed seeing the writing on your arms every day. It was kind of a sad moment, because you wished maybe your soulmate had said something back to you. But instead, there had just been no response and instead they’d totally just not responded.

You’d almost given up hope for hearing a response to anything when you finally saw a note from your soulmate, and it was directed at you.

Were my notes really that annoying? Or is it just my handwriting?

You looked down at your arm and smiled. Finally, you thought. It was about time to hear back from your soulmate, thinking you’d blown it all. A laugh fell as you looked at your hand, as a preteen, you felt yourself feeling all sorts of emotions just by having a simple communication with your soulmate.

It’s distracting, I’m not about to be accused of cheating. How can I explain that my soulmate is the one writing those things?

You and your soulmate had begun talking by then. You learned many things about each other. He, you had learned that he was a boy but you had both not yet told each other your names, played basketball and lived in a small town in Indiana.

You had said it was unfortunate that he lived in Indiana, as you lived one state over in Illinois. Or maybe that was fate trying to give you something to work for.

You spoke every few days, it was enough that you knew about each others lives but it wasn’t like you could learn that much over short messages.

However, you both promised not to tell each other names until you were ready to meet for real. It was more interesting that way. Though you wondered what his name was, especially as time went on.

Once the two of you were in high school, things seemed to be different. No longer did you write notes to each other frequently--still, you talked, but it was sporadic at best. It was like he didn’t have time for his soulmate any longer.

Instead, the most you saw were once again the scrawled notes from studying and tests coming up. But also a few notes that looked like they were written by somebody else.

You couldn’t dare ask about who it was, but one day you got the news.

Sorry, I have a girlfriend.

You could feel your heart break. Your heart was breaking for a boy you didn’t even know his name, and yet it was breaking all the same. It was difficult to explain. But you had to write back to him, to let him know that it was alright. Because, it should be alright, right? You weren’t able to think of words for a long time. Finally, you figured out how to reply.

That’s good. I’m happy for you.

And you meant that in the loosest of terms, that you wanted him to be happy.

After that, your conversations stopped. You could tell that he, whoever he was, was trying to keep himself from writing on his arms when he took to studying. One of the worst parts of it all was the way he would be writing on his own skin, how it would appear on yours, and then suddenly a quickly scrawled apology would appear.

You tried to follow suit, doodle less. But it was an absentminded motion that happened when you weren’t thinking. Did he mind? He never wrote back when you were doodling, so what did that say about your relationship with your soulmate?

It was just after graduation when you left your city for the first time. You’d gotten a job at a small paper in a state over. It was a photography gig, a bit of fact checking, sort of internship. But it was all kind of interesting.

You hadn’t heard from your soulmate in some time. You wanted to reach out to him, to talk to him about graduation and ask about his life. But what if he hadn’t reached out for some specific reason? Like he was still with his girlfriend or if everything wasn’t going well.

You knew he was alive. He marked up his arms every so often with notes during finals time, and you had written a small good luck message on your arm just in case he needed it.

He wrote you back a small, you too. But that was the last time you’d heard from him.

Your first day of the job, you met this couple who was around your age--Nancy and Jonathan. She was an aspiring writer and he was a photographer. You didn’t know what you wanted to do just yet, but you had wanted to see what life was like outside of the place you’d grown up.

Something about what you said made their faces turn, like they were hiding something from you. But you didn’t dare ask about it. It did make you interested in everything about the small town, though.

One minute you’re hanging out with Jonathan and Nancy trying to help them work on a story and the next, somehow, you’re dealing with monsters and otherworldly creatures and things that don’t seem real.

Yet they’d just been chasing you through the hallway of a hospital, so that was pretty real. You couldn’t fight with everything you had just witnessed.

Once you got to the store with everyone, while you were all trying to help get El back to her feet, you were looking for a pen or a marker or anything to write on your arm.

“What are you doing right now, Y/N?” Lucas asked, turning to you as he walked down the aisles with you and Max.

“I’m trying to find a pen.” You replied, as if it was an obvious answer.

“But...why?” he repeated his question.

“’Cause of something on my mind.” You answered, finally finding a pen and uncapping it before turning to look at the two of them. “Any other questions or is that it?”

Lucas and Max shrugged at you, continuing down the aisles and left you to write a message on your arm. You hadn’t planned on this right then. You’d hoped that it would come one day after talking for a long time to your soulmate. But you’d really just figured out that life was too damn short to wait for that perfect moment.

Hawkins, Indiana. I want to meet you. Please don’t tell me it’s too late.

And yet, you got no response. But it could be a while before the answer comes, you have to remind yourself. So you focus on everything else going on, trying to put it all out of your mind. The mark of your own handwriting still the only note on your skin whenever you notice it.

You’re at the mall with everyone, focusing on what was happening and not even remembering what you wrote on your arm until later that night when everything is over and you’re sitting by one of the ambulances with the younger kids.

El is the one who points out the mark on your arm.

What a coincidence, I’m in Hawkins too.

When Jonathan and his family moved, you were somehow part of the going away party. Having been inducted into the whole friend group during the events of the summer. It was nice to think that this was a place you could have made friends.

“So, is this a going away for Y/N too, she’s going back at the end of the summer right?” Will asked, turning to look at you when you were all standing at the car and the moving truck saying a final goodbye.

You shrugged your shoulders as you looked at everyone, “Well, I don’t think I’ll be working at the Post, given what happened this summer. But I might want to stick around a bit. I don’t know how I could...go back home after all of that.”

“It’s hard to say goodbye to this place.” Joyce said softly, looking around at everyone.

“But, it’s not forever.” Jonathan added quickly, giving Nancy’s hands a soft squeeze as he looked at his girlfriend.

“We can make a plan.” Joyce nodded her head. “Breaks for school and everything. We’ll talk about it once we settle in.” She said it so simply, like it was the truth. Like she promised it and meant it all.

Saying goodbye to people you’d just met, people you became friends with so quickly was difficult. But it was hard to do it still. You didn’t know what to do. Your internship was up at the end of the summer, but you didn’t want to say goodbye to this town. To these people.

To the fact that your soulmate was among the people in this town. You just hadn’t met him yet.

Or maybe you had.

You never left Hawkins after that day, not for good anyway. But you still hadn’t met your soulmate.

Somehow you managed to convince the Hawkins Post to give you a full time job--you still didn’t know what you wanted to do with everything in life, but you wanted to stay here and this was one of the better ways to do it. Plus they, unfortunately, had some openings with staff moving around after deaths and disappearances over the summer.

You were, however, talking to your soulmate a lot.

How is it that you’ve been in Hawkins since the summer and we haven’t met yet?

You laughed at the comment on your arm as you were in the office and shook your head. Been busy, only just moved into my place. You can blame that.

I think you’re just hiding from me! Or maybe you don’t exist.

If I didn’t exist, who’s been doodling all those horrible flowers on your arms all these years?

Hey! Don’t say that. I love those flowers.

When we meet, I’ll make sure to do one in person.

You spoke a dozen times like this, but still, you hadn’t met him in person. Maybe it was just bad luck. Maybe it was fear that was keeping you from meeting him and setting a real time to meet up. But it was all difficult.

When will that be?

It was like he was reading your mind.

Soon.

You promised.

You walked into Family Video that night expecting to see Robin behind the counter, because she’d told you she’d be working. That she had some movie picked out that you just had to see. That you would love. But instead, when you walked into the store you saw Steve and Steve alone behind the counter.

“Hey, Y/N.” Steve said, looking up at you when he heard the noise of the door opening.

“Hey Steve. Robin here? She said she had some video she wanted me to see?” You said, walking up to the counter and leaning on it, peering around as you did to see if you could spot your other friend.

Steve shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, “She’s on break, I think. You can hang out for a bit if you want. I’m not sure what she wanted you to get.”

“Alright.” You nodded your head and looked around the shop, tapping your hand on the counter and looking over at him. “So is there a place I can hang out or should I just stand here?”

Steve nodded, gesturing for you to join him behind the counter. “Come on back, I guess.”

“Thanks.” You took a seat on the stool behind the counter and turned to look at Steve, facing him. Of all the people in Hawkins, you hadn’t spoken to him as much as everyone else. You wondered why that was. “So, how are you doing?”

“You mean after this summer?” Steve asked, his voice softer as he turned to look at you while he continued working. “Fine, I guess. Not every day you’re taken into a Russian bunker and given truth serum.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Yeah, I don’t think many people can say they’ve seen what we have. It’s hard to open up to people without thinking about keeping that part a secret.”

“It’s definitely hard.” You commented, pulling a pen from your purse--you always kept one on you at all times just in case you needed to either take notes or wanted to talk to your soulmate--and began doodling a small flower on your wrist. “I think about, like, one day meeting someone and having to explain all of this.”

Steve wasn’t really paying much attention to the motions you were doing, because he was busy making sure tapes were getting rewound properly. But he nodded his head. “Right? At least we’ve got everyone to talk to. Our friends, I mean.”

Nodding you replied, “Yeah, but say one day we meet...I don’t know, our soulmates, or whatever. How do you plan on explaining all of this to them?”

“I’d have to meet her first.” Steve said, shrugging his shoulders as he turned back to glance at you. “Have you met your soulmate?”

You shook your head, “Not yet, but I’ve been told he lives here in Hawkins. So maybe I’ll meet him soon.” You put the pen back in your purse and dropped your hands down to your side. Not really looking for anything, you looked around and that’s when you saw it.

Steve’s wrist, there was something on it, under the sweater he was wearing.

“Speaking of soulmates, I think you’ve got a note from yours.” you pointed out, gesturing toward his wrist with a small smile and a nod of your head.

Steve tugged his sleeve up and you watched as he did, but turned your gaze up to look at his face. He lit up at whatever was on his wrist. You hoped that wherever your soulmate was, he looked just as happy whenever he got a message from you.

“What’s she saying?” you asked softly, hoping you weren’t disturbing the moment for him. But you were curious.

“Just a doodle.” Steve answered, showing you his wrist and speaking. “She does that sometimes. But they just remind me that she’s real. That she’s out there, y’know?”

That’s when you saw it. The small flower you’d been doodling just then.

“Steve.” you couldn’t think of whatever else to say, trailing off after that, still staring at the flower on his wrist.

He glanced up at you, having only been looking at the flower on his wrist and looked a bit confused, “Yeah?”

All you could do, was hold up your wrist for him. Because what words could you even find in that moment to say anything right. What if you messed up, or said the wrong thing. Or what if he was upset by it all. It just seemed too real. Too surreal.

You both looked at each other, at the matching marks on your wrists right then and then back at your gaze.

A smile broke out on his face and on yours as well. You didn’t know what to do, but Steve moved closer to you and you moved closer to him. Neither of you spoke right away until you were standing close enough to touch.

You spoke first, “So, are you happy I finally made it to your small town?”

“I’m glad you didn’t leave it when you had the chance.” Steve replied.

“Without meeting the soulmate I’ve been talking to since seventh grade?” You laughed softly, shaking your head and looking at him. “Like that was really going to happen.”

“I can’t believe I’ve known you all these months and I didn’t know.” Steve said quietly, looking at you with a smile.

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t know either. But I’m glad it’s you.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded your head, and then before giving you a chance to answer, Steve kissed you softly. And it was everything you’d ever thought it would be, kissing your soulmate for the first time. It was the best first kiss you could have thought. You dreamed of it off and on since you were in the seventh grade, and this was real. It was someone you knew and trusted. And the best part? You really liked him too.

Neither of you noticed the door opening, Robin walking back in and laughing, “I knew it. Soulmates.”

#steve harrington x reader #reader x steve harrington #steve harrington x you #soulmate au #stranger things x reader

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jellsrants · 4 months

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Gwen and why she lies

This one is going to be a bit messy because I'm very tired after work, but I can't not talk about this anymore.

It's easy to criticize Gwen for lying to Miles. She was obviously in the wrong, right? The narrative calls her out, the characters call her out, and, oh boy, does the fandom call her out.

But dismissing her lying as "manipulative" or just "being a bad person" is doing a disservice to yourself. Because if I see you say that I will literally murder you assume you have no media literacy or desire to comprehend what you are shown beyond the surface level.

In ITSV Gwen claims she’s been Spider-Woman for two years. Her being fifteen years old, that makes her having taken that responsibility when she was thirteen, which is an incredibly formative age.

Moreover, she clearly has a strained relationship with her father, and her other parent, if she ever had one, is not in the picture entirely. Even in the flashback of a supposed happy memory of sharing a meal with her father and Peter, Gwen and her dad don’t seem to be on the same page at all.

Miles, on the other hand, has two incredibly present parents (and a really cool uncle). Do they also not always see eye to eye? Surely, but it’s obvious that love and support to each other is central to their household no matter what.

I believe that Gwen very early on understood and learned the old and true “lie to protect” way of thinking, and by the time she just met Miles, she already had it ingrained in her. Look no further than their second interaction - where she purposely bumps into him (no, really, find that scene, she literally leans back so he can bump into her), and then lies, cringes at herself, lies again, cringes more, and so on and so forth.

Gwen saying weird stuff and then cringing at herself around Miles is, like, a repeated thing, but that’s not the point here.

The point is, by the time ATSV arrives, the stakes for Gwen are really high. If she disappoints or angers Miguel, she might be sent back ‘home’, which would be akin to a death sentence (and which ends up happening anyway). If she tells Miles the whole truth she risks losing him, and from the context clues of her just having his pictures scattered around her bedroom we could tell he’s pretty important to her.

Thing is, she wanted everything to work out. There’s a reason Hobie and Pavitr seem to almost instantly recognize Miles, despite meeting him for the first time ever. And there’s a reason Gwen chooses him after all, despite all of her fears.

So, to get this train back on track, Gwen didn’t just lie simply because she didn’t trust Miles, and definitely not because she wanted to hurt him. She lied because in the turmoil she was feeling that was the only thing she knew to do.

For years, between her responsibilities, her father’s neglect, and her tragic loss of Peter, Gwen learned, even if wrongfully, that lying and keeping secrets is the only way to keep things in any sort of peace and balance.

But will she have enough time to unlearn that?

#fandom rant #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #spiderman #gwen stacy #miles morales #tw neglect

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smallestapplin · 2 years

Note

Heyheyhey I just need to get this idea out here before I forget. Ingo and Emmet (separately) having a crush on someone who doesn't smile or laugh around others because self esteem (they think their smile/laugh is goofy). The twins have known their person to be blank faced and unbreakable, but one day they get to hear them laugh out loud at something their pokemon did. Ingo is blushing so hard he's about to faint, and Emmet is mentally on his knees thanking whatever deity that he got to witness something so profound. I am soft for the train men. -chandelure anon

Chandelure anon coming in clutch after I broke everyone’s hearts.

(I know I woke up at 3pm and it’s 10pm rn, but I’m so tired after all them tears, I might take a fat nap.)

🔲Ingo🔲

- he understand the smiling part, it’s almost impossible for him to smile. But laughing? He wants to hear how beautiful your laughter is.

- Ingo has fallen for you, sure he hasn’t confessed yet but he wants you to be comfortable with him.

- He tries every subtle thing he can do to get to you laugh or crack a smile, but nothing seems to work. He’s tried puns, dad jokes, long thought out jokes, hell even making a fool of himself, hoping his pain would make you laugh.

- But you never broke from your stoic expression, and just worried over him.

- You were at his house with your Pokémon. Deciding a play date would be nice for the companions.

- You were out back with both parties while he went to get you two a drink. The windows are wide open since it’s such a nice day out.

- And on his way back just as he was about to open the sliding glass doors.

- Your deerling run around excited before it accidentally runs into the sliding glass door.

- Your own loud laughing quickly stops Ingo’s.

- He can see you, your head tossed back and eyes closed, your holding your stomach, snorts breaking through.

- Ingo always drops the drinks. He can feel his face burning, your smile makes his knees weak and your laugh makes him melt.

- He’s in love, he is so in love, he loves you and he can’t even hide it. He is thanking everyone and everything possible for allowing him to see and hear such gorgeous things.

- He wants to live in this moment forever. Your smile and laughter permanently ingrained in his brain.

🔳Emmet🔳

- At first Emmet accepted he’d never see you smile. That’s fine! He can smile for the both of you! But you won’t laugh? Even Ingo laughs!

- He isn’t even subtle about it, he’s doing everything in the books to get you to laugh. Ingo gets involved, not by choice.

- Nut shots are always funny! Why aren’t you laughing?

- The more he falls for you the me he wants to hear your laugh and see you smile. He is desperate for it.

- It got to the point that when you told him you don’t out of insecurities he was livid. He wanted to hunt down every last person who made you feel insecure about it and just turn rabid

- You two were at a park, this particular time of day no one was here so all the better. He stood up to walk around a bit and stretch his legs, he was only a few feet away from you.

- You both watched as your small scraggy trying to square up to Emmet’s Garbodor, it’s hits not doing anything to the large trash Pokémon, but Garbodor seems to but be having and it light pushes scraggy, who is knocked over in one light shove.

- For some reason that had you laughing. Your smile broke and your were laughing, leaning back before leaning forward at the simplistic yet hilarious scene that played out before you.

- Emmet stares at you, his mouth agape.

- His heart is pounding, tears are stinging his eyes.

- You’re smiling! You’re laughing! This! This is perfect! He couldn’t resist, he was so filled with emotions!

- Just as you laugh was dying down you squeak.

- Emmet throws himself at you, hugging your so tightly and leaving kisses all over your face.

- “Precious! Darling your laugh is perfect! Melodic! Your smile is brighter than the sun! I love it! I love it all so much!”

- You aren’t getting him off you for a while, he is just so happy.

- Though he accidentally confessed his feelings, tragic.

#pokemon #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader #pokémon #pokemon fluff #pokemon ingo #pokemon ingo x reader #pokemon emmet #pokemon emmet x reader #long post

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puffinshufflin · 2 years

Text

MK X READER (idk what to title yet lol)/Porty MK x reader.

(A/N): Okay so I hope this doesn’t suck but it probably does. I’m not sure where I’m gonna go with this story or if I’ll even write more, it just depends tbh. But I had this idea while bored at work and couldn’t not write it down. Pls forgive any spelling errors I’m kinda dumb!!! ⚠️There is definitely some suggestive content in here but nothing graphic atm, but I’ll give warning if things progress in later chapters. Also I don’t care how much of a jerk he is, all MK’s, clone or not, ask for consent!!!⚠️ This is an MK x reader fic that starts out with Porty MK x reader, not even sure if Porty MK will make a comeback for a while. Set just after season 1! TW- Alcohol and some light cursing. Ok I think that is everything! Pls let me know what you think!!!

Blaring base made ripples in the drink you clutched. What little was left before you threw your head back and downed the rest of it at least. Despite this being your…5th? Yeah 5th sounds right. Despite this being your 5th drink of the night, the heat of the bitter liquid still made you cringe like you swallowed a lit match. But it went smoothly and your head felt light as you rejoined the dance floor. Your friends had all parted ways, posting up at different areas of the club with different groups, leaving you to figure yourself out in the middle. Now, this wasn’t usually your scene, much more of a stay inside kinda person, but you started a new job that upcoming Monday, some little restaurant and the stress was mounting. After spending time and money in college working for a practically useless degree and claiming your independence early on by moving out as soon as you had the chance, you would take any job you could get to keep your lights on and water running. And it seemed like Pigsy’s Noodles would be that job for the time being until you could move on to a steady career. So a little liquid courage makes total sense.

The push and pull of the crowd had managed to get you closer to the front and the base somehow managed to ingrain the beat into your skull, you could feel the pulse from behind your eyelids as they fluttered groggily. It took a few seconds before you realized that you were making eye contact with someone. Said someone being the DJ as his shutter shades dropped from his eyes and rested on the bridge of his nose. He gave you, and this is not an exaggeration, the douchiest smile you’ve ever seen and you felt yourself smiling back almost immediately. He looked like a stereotype of a rave boy had gained consciousness, your eyes didn’t know what to look at first; the comically large teal headphones, the aforementioned fuchsia shutter shades or the literal leopard fur coat that was slung over his shoulders like a cape. He clearly thought your prolonged staring meant he should pose for you to check him out, so he did. A variety of hand signs were thrown your way, gang signs maybe..you weren’t sure, then he leaned forward and rested his chin in his hands, squishing his cheeks out, then he went as far as to turn himself around to send a smoldering look over his shoulder all while showing off his ass and damn…this dude has clearly never missed a leg day. You laughed outright at that one and his grin widened before he reached for the mic. “Alright porty people, make some noiseee”, his obnoxious frat boy sounding voice had an immediate effect on the crowd, you included, as you all cheered wildly. “That’s what I like to hear! Now I’m gonna take a quick break to rehydrate, but this dance floor better still be bumping when I come back..or else”. Oh dear lord he had fangs. Why did you find that hot? Where you really that drunk? When he glanced back to you and jerked his chin in the direction of the bar, you decided that yes you were that drunk and you followed.

Pushing past a crowd was difficult when sober so it was nearly impossible now, but you managed. The DJ was already seated and had an empty barstool waiting, a drink somehow already in his hand. You could see the people around him excitedly nudging each other and getting photos of him but he didn’t seem to pay attention as you approached. You didn’t sit, just in case your little dance floor interaction had been a side affect of the booze and you were about to make a fool out of yourself. But then he gestured to the chair then you you and you got the message. “Hey”, was all he said and got a closer look at those fangs. “Hey yourself”, you had at least attempted to be flirty and casual, but his little chuckle said he could see right through you. “What can I get you”, he raised a hand and immediately the bar staff was pushing over themselves to get to you both. A young, giggly woman approached and quickly got your preferred order down as well as the DJ’s second before scurrying off again. “So what brought you here…”, he lingered a bit so you could fill in your name. “(Y/N)”, you gave it. (Y/N)! My first guess”, he snapped his fingers and you rolled your eyes at the obvious lie. “Amazing”, you said flatly, matching his smirk. “So (Y/N), you porty much”? Porty? Wow this guy was committed to his persona. “Honestly no, it been a while. But with the way my life is going to could see it being a more frequent occurrence”. Wow, not three sentences in and you were already over sharing, nice one (Y/N). He didn’t seem to mind, just chuckling, “I wouldn’t mind you becoming a regular sight”. You flushed, blaming it on the alcohol, “Wow! You are very forward Mr. DJ”. “MK”. You hummed. “My name is MK”, he elaborated. “My second guess after Mr. DJ”, you snapped back. Your drinks had arrived as MK laughed and the conversation continued at the same pace. It was like talking with him was a competition, both of you trying to one up each other with sly remarks and shameless flirting. Well maybe you felt a little shame but you swallowed it with your drinks. MK eventually and to leave to get back to work, but you caught his eye numerous times while swaying along with the crowd and you met back up on his next break. And the next one.

As the night turned to morning, the club crowd began to filter out save for the die hard partyers. Portyers, you thought with a snicker. You had switched from alcohol to water as to not totally overdue it but you were still sloshed and MK was just as much if not more. He wasn’t up on stage anymore, but pre mixed tracks still blared through the significantly smaller mosh pit that you found yourself in the center of. Arms were around you from behind as MK lazily hummed and murmured along to the current song. Your head was thrown back onto his shoulder and you peered at him from behind the shutter shades that had somehow migrated onto your face. This wasn’t the first time you had gotten a little touchy-feely that night, you had both thrown that out the window within the first few hours of knowing each other. But as he turned you to face him, this was the first time you felt his hands travel to a more pg-13 area. Your ass, he was shamelessly pulling you closer by your ass. Not that you cared too much at the moment. You both clearly have something going on, even if it is just a drunken fling. So you got even and grabbed his ass right back and he had the nerve to groan lowly. His shades slipped down your nose as you made eye contact briefly. He looked as smug as ever but you could still see the question his his eyes. You nodded.

The walk back to your apartment took considerably longer as you drunkenly pawed at each other but you made it. At just the right time, cause as soon as the door was shut, your back was against it and those fangs were pulling your bottom lip to give him access. Not that you minded in the slightest. For such a pair of chatterboxes, there wasn’t too much talking after that, just a lot of huffing and panting as you blindly stumbled to your bedroom. He had you down on the mattress and you could swear his eyes were glowing. “Are you sober enough”, he looked serious for the first time that night. True you could feel the alcohol still in you but no more than you would after a few glasses of wine and you could very clearly understand and consent to what was about to happen. “Yes, I’m fine. Are you”, you asked him and his lazy smiled returned, “You know it baby”. With that out the way, he dove down into your awaiting arms. “Let’s gets this porty started”.

#lego monkie kid #lmk x reader #porty mk x reader #porty mk #mk x reader

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wooahaes · 2 years

Text

lonely hearts club [final]

pairing: non-idol!wonwoo x chubby!fem!reader

word count: 2.1k~

warnings: two idiots are hesitant to communicate with each other and get tricked.

daisy’s notes: (posts this early as a way of forcing myself to take a final rn instead of waiting until tomorrow)

summary: With graduation fast approaching, Wonwoo only meant to vent about his feelings to an anonymous Twitter account known for giving people a space to vent and an anonymous way to express themselves. What happens when the person he has feelings for is the same person behind the account... and the same person who thinks he’s in love with their best friend?

< prev || masterlist || next/epilogue >

Work seemed to drag by that Sunday. Seungkwan had been working with you again, and you’d watched him scribble doodles idly on the back of receipts. When customers weren’t looking, you’d kept looking back at your phone, your messages to Wonwoo (your texts--you weren’t going to look back at the things he’d unknowingly sent you on Twitter) open. You hoped he wasn’t looking as you kept trying to type message after message to him. A “Hello,” a “How are you?” that hopefully didn’t sound forced, a “Can we talk about us?” that you deleted quicker than the rest. There was no “us” for the two of you to talk about yet. Not in the present tense, at least. In a romance novel, maybe you’d run to his store and by some miracle he’d be there working, and you’d passionately embrace after an emotional apology to him. You knew what everyone would tell you: to just ask to see him. Maybe meet for coffee or something. But your situation wasn’t something you could erase with a drink between the two of you and a simple “sorry I thought you liked my best friend and made myself think she might like you back and broke your heart” wasn’t easy to say. They didn’t print shit like that on cards.

Seungkwan said nothing to you except his normal “Get home safely,” when the two of you parted ways after work. You took the bus that day, not in the mood to walk, and watched the city pass by until it was time for you to get off. You dragged yourself upstairs, waved to Jiyoung working on her classwork at the dinner table, and went to get changed. You swore every time you worked that the scent of coffee ingrained itself deeper into your skin. To be fair, it wasn’t the worst thing to smell like, but it could get nauseating after a while. You showered, changed into something warm to sleep in, and collapsed into bed. You hadn’t had anything to eat in a while, but all you really wanted was to lie down for a while.

Right as you closed your eyes, your phone went off. You blindly reached around next to you, groping the space next to you in bed until you found it, and took a deep breath before opening your eyes again. You hoped it’d be Wonwoo, only to see Junghoon’s emojis before you saw his name.

hoony ☕️💾: I know its late but i really need you to meet me right now.

sunny 🌻☕️💌: oh shit

sunny 🌻☕️💌: is everything okay?

hoony ☕️💾: I’m in front of the library rn

hoony ☕️💾: It’s serious and I really dont want to say it over text

hoony ☕️💾: Okay?

hoony ☕️💾: Stay safe btw.

sunny 🌻☕️💌: i’ll be there, hoony. just give me a few minutes to grab my shoes. do you want me to call?

hoony ☕️💾: Its fine

hoony ☕️💾: Just hurry

tiger 🐯 kwon: are you almost here?

wonwoo: i’ll be there soon

wonwoo: is everything okay?

wonwoo: soonyoung?

tiger 🐯 kwon: it will be :)

wonwoo: i don’t want to know what that means

tiger 🐯 kwon: :)

wonwoo: stop

wonwoo: i can see campus. i’ll be there in a minute.

All Soonyoung had said in his earlier texts was that this was important. He knew it was eleven at night on a Sunday and that Wonwoo had just went home from work, but it was “vital” that he get to campus right then and there. All Wonwoo wanted to do was collapse into bed and sleep for the next six hours, but if it was an emergency, then he was glad to make the quick run to campus. Mingyu knew where he was in case he needed to take Soonyoung somewhere else. He was surprised he was Soonyoung’s first pick for something considering Jihoon was likely home anyway. He stood underneath one of the lamps that illuminated the sidewalk in front of the library, looking down at his phone. He’d change Soonyoung’s name back next time he felt like it, that little tiger emoji staring him back at him as he sighed. It was late. If Soonyoung truly had an emergency, then he should show up sooner so Wonwoo could help him with it.

Minutes passed. Wonwoo grew aggravated. Some customers had been hell that day, trying to find things that he told them weren’t in stock--demanding he call other stores to locate the record they were looking for and that he should tell his boss to “get better stock” before finally leaving. Wonwoo had assignments he needed to at least get a little progress on before he slept, too. If Soonyoung was just messing with him (those smileys were the stuff of betrayal), then Wonwoo would chew him out later. He didn’t have time to fuck around on campus, especially this late at night. He opened up Soonyoung’s contact, about to hit the button to call him when he heard the sound of someone’s footsteps against the pavement. He was about to sigh in relief, Soonyoung’s name on the tip of his tongue.

But when he looked up, there you stood. You’d been dressed in pajama pants and a hoodie, looking entirely ready for bed. It was late. You shouldn’t be out--really, no one should unless they needed to, because safety should come first. If you were there, it must have meant--

Oh.

“Wonwoo?” You had called out, and you continued to grow closer to him. “Junghoon said he’d be here,” you’d held up your phone, screen illuminated and open to what looked like a text conversation. “He said it was important.”

And he held up his phone in turn. “Soonyoung asked me to come here.”

You sighed, folding your arms across your chest. “Well,” you said, “I guess we both have friends who meddle.” You rocked on your heels, likely debating whether you wanted to stay. He hoped you would. It would be easy for you to turn and leave, but he wanted to talk to you so badly. The last week of not seeing your face, of you actively avoiding him, hurt him. He knew you were hurting, too, and refused to hold that against you.

“How are you?” He asked, pushing his hands into his pants pockets. It was warm out, and he hoped that you didn’t overheat in your hoodie, but at least you looked comfortable. He’d rather have changed before he came.

“Fine...” You stopped, clearing your throat. “You?”

“I’m fine.”

Silence, mostly. The crickets chirped in a long drone, filling the space between the two of you. He remembered what Mingyu had told him that morning: something that your best friend had told him. If it’d come from anyone else, then maybe Wonwoo would doubt it.

So he took a deep breath. “I don’t like Jiyoung,” he finally said. “She’s nice. She’s pretty. But I’ve never looked at her like that.”

“Junghoon told you?”

“He told Mingyu.”

You nodded. Maybe both of your friends thought you needed a push or you’d never act.

“I run that Twitter,” you confessed a moment later. “When you messaged me, I thought you were talking about Jiyoung because I didn’t think anyone would choose me over her.”

“I didn’t,” he said. “I didn’t choose because there wasn’t a choice. It was you.” He took a step closer to you, hesitant and gauging your reaction. “It was always you.”

His words shook you, and you just forced yourself to keep going: “Sometimes I get called smart. Sometimes passionate. People always go for stuff like that when they don’t think you’re pretty--or if they don’t want to admit it.” The look in Wonwoo’s eyes was so, so soft but you needed to say what you felt. He deserved to know. “But you made me feel pretty. You said you liked the way my eyes lit up, or you’d tell me that I looked pretty whenever you saw me, or...” You took a deep breath. “You made me feel really, really good every time we were together. But the more time we spent together, the more I realized you never liked Jiyoung. I thought maybe you’d change your mind if I just didn’t accept it because I was stupid and I didn’t think you’d actually like me that much. Then when I--when we kissed,” you corrected. He kissed you back. “It made it real.”

Wonwoo said your name quietly. He’d drifted closer to you, just one step away. You took it.

“I like you.” You finally admitted it out loud, and it felt as though a weight was lifted off of your shoulders. “I like you so, so much. I know it’s stupid that I started all of this because I wanted you to end up with my friend, and it felt like I was leading you on for a while even though I didn’t know yet, but... I fell really, really hard for you. If you don’t want to see me after this again, I get it--”

Wonwoo had hesitated to reach up, fingers grazing your jawline for a moment. “Can I...?” And that time, he finished it, just to make it clear exactly how he felt about you: “...kiss you?”

The first time Wonwoo kissed you, it’d been wrong. His touch had been soft, sure, and he’d been glad to kiss you, but it hurt to think about it before. It’d been good. Better than he expected, but not right. Not when things were misunderstood between the two of you. In a sense, it was suffocating to thing about the way things were before the air was cleared. The idea of kissing you when you thought he didn’t genuinely like you felt... wrong. Wonwoo liked you and only wanted to kiss you. At least you knew that now. You’d kissed him last time, catching him off guard. It wasn’t an exchange of equals, but an impulsive thing in the worst kind of ways. He’d always savor the moments leading up to that kiss, because he’d been falling for you more and more, but he’d make up for them in the future and do it right with clear intentions.

This time you met him halfway. His lips were gentle against your own, one hand cupping your face and tracing his thumb along your cheek. You were uncertain on what to do with yourself at first, but you reached up, wrapping your arms around his neck, slipping one hand into the little bit of hair that you could reach--the black beanie he wore covered the rest of it. Just to toy with what you could. The last time he kissed you, you ran from him and hid. He barely had the time to process the feeling of your chapped lips against his soft ones, or the feeling of you pressed close to him, or the way he could smell the scent of coffee that clung to your skin whenever you worked your shifts. You could still smell his cologne, fainter than it’d been last time but still there. It felt like a dream to kiss you, to be right there in that moment with you. If it was, he didn’t want to wake up yet. Wonwoo just wanted time to stop long enough for him to tell you that he loved you.

Instead, he pulled away and just gazed at you with this content smile on his face. “Can you say it again?”

You just blinked at him, still starstruck by that kiss.

“I like you,” he said instead. His thumb traced over your cheek once more. “It’s hard for me to get the words right, but I want you, if you’ll have me.”

All you could do was just smile at him, hands sliding down to stay at his bicep. “Yeah,” you said. “I like you, too, Wonwoo.”

In the end, you knew who Jeon Wonwoo was. Jeon Wonwoo was the guy who sat across from you in your literature classes and looked in love with you when all you did was speak your opinion on the book at hand. He was the guy who saved his words for when he really wanted to share them and blew you away every time because he was always so well-articulated. He was the guy who sat next to you in classes where you didn’t have Jiyoung because you made him feel comfortable with speaking. He was the guy who gravitated toward you when you walked next to him down the street, the guy whose cold hands would find warmth in your own, and the guy who kissed you and made you feel like sunshine lived within your chest. He was cute, he was kind, he was patient, and now? He was yours.

And that was all that mattered.

stay tuned...

taglist: @yoongischeeksluv @rebelspy @mystiicturtle @hwashiningstar @x-veex @nothingbutadeadesceane @cersti-mo0 e

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x y/n #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x you #wooahaes.lhc

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firefly--bright · 1 year

Text

Blooming Hearts

Jean Kirstein x reader (**implied fem, they/them pronouns used) mini series, reincarnation au.

** - implied that reader stays with Sasha and Mikasa in the girl's dorms as a cadet.

summary : you never thought that some freshly bloomed flowers and newly brewed tea would help you meet the one person you desperately wanted to meet.

warnings : some angst, mild manga spoilers

a/n : last chapter!!! sorry this came out so late i just haven't been finding the motivation lately but here it is!! hope you guys like it :D

enter my taglist!

tagging: @a10vely-yutazen

Chapter Five - Rebirth

You stretched your limbs, sore from the ODM gear and relentless fighting. You should have been used to it, really. All the killing, all the screams and blood. But you weren’t, even after so many years of being an experienced soldier.

How could you ever get used to killing? It was a ruthless thing, to kill a part of your own species, much less your own comrades. The face of the Commander Pixis as a titan was still ingrained into your mind, unable to cast it aside.

You stepped out to the deck of the ship, looking around for your lover.

You spotted Mikasa to your left, lost in thought, as her hair flew wildly in the wind. Your gaze turned forward, finding the back of your beloved, deciding to approach him first.

His forearms were pressed into the railing. To everyone else it would’ve seemed like he had everything together, but you knew better. His gaze was distant, eyebrows slightly furrowed and you could almost hear him grinding his teeth.

Your hand reached his jaw, caressing it softly, making him loosen the tightness he had welcomed into it. His eyes fluttered close.

“how’re you feeling, flower boy?” you asked gently, not wanting to disturb Mikasa.

The nickname seemed to relax him a bit, and his lips twitched upwards. You counted that as a win in your books.

He sighed heavily, his broad shoulders slumping with defeat.

“its… its too much. Its so much. I want it to stop and the worst part hasn’t even started yet.” He said, voice cracking.

Your hand travelled up his jaw and stopped at his cheek, where you rested your palm near the corner of his mouth.

“I know. There’s… a lot going on right now.” You sighed, “I dont know if it gets better. But, if its any consolation, I promise to be here with you when it does.”

His eyes opened at that, “it is. It’s plenty consolation, poppy.” He kissed your palm and kept his eyes focused on you.

“you’ll have your dream one day, Kirstein. After this last thing is over you’ll be able to live semi-peacefully, somewhere safe.” You said, leaning into him.

“semi-peaceful? Why not fully?” he asks. He wants to humour you, and you know it. So, you let him, just like all the other times.

“well you don’t expect your kids and two cats to be quiet, do you?”

He chuckles in what seemed to be forever. You hadn’t seen him laugh in so long, you had almost forgotten how good it made you feel.

His eyes crinkled shut, his hair flying because of the wind, strands of it framing his face. You almost forgot how much you loved seeing this sight, how much it only strengthened your feelings for him.

Your love for him was rooted so deep into you, and you had gladly let it. Your heart was in his hands, roughened by the years of abrasiveness to them, yet still so gentle to you. He had burrowed himself in you, in your thoughts and memories and happiness, that it almost felt like he was a part of you. you had etched him on to you like a promise you’d keep repeating to yourself, a line you kept saying so that youd memorize it. And truly, you had memorized him. you had memorized every wrinkle, every hair, every freckle and every scar on his body and mind.

And you’d never forget him. you would carry him with you till the day you died, and perhaps even lifetimes after that.

That wouldn’t be so bad, you thought, as he kissed your nose and looked out to the horizon again.

It wouldn’t be bad at all.

your mind was buzzing as you stood infront of the door to the “mansion” as sasha had put it, and she wasn’t wrong.

The house seemed to be massive, the gate itself had tight security as you spotted four guards near the front. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help it. You, like your other friends, looked at the structure in awe at the numerous amounts of windows, some with their lights on.

You could here soft music playing from the inside, followed by a rumbling round of laughter. It seemed like the party had already started.

Jean let out a whistle. “this is fucking huge.”

You heard Connie whisper a “that’s what she said”, followed by Sasha elbowing him in the ribs.

“should we… ring the bell?” you asked. Marco shrugged, still looking at the building, taking in the architecture. you took that as a yes.

The bell rang with the same tune you knew it would ring in; the tune that all rich families had in movies.

You knew Historia was a queen previously but you didn’t know that it would translate to… this. You hoped she had a relatively happy life as compared to her last one. She deserved that.

The music inside stopped, and the enormous front door finally opened.

A short, familiar looking blonde with blue eyes crinkled with a wide smile greeted you, “welcome, guys!” she said chirpily, but there was no fakeness behind her smile, no lie in her happiness this time.

You had seen her around campus, and had spotted her and ymir, you guessed, together at the tea shop in some of your shifts. You never recognized her, though. You’d never been keen to introduce yourself to her everytime you saw her, but it made sense now seeing her being historia.

The memories flew by everyone’s heads. You had gotten kind of used to this, as had everyone else, so you just mirrored historia’s smile, though yours wasn’t as wide. You didn’t think anyone’s smile could match hers.

“hey, hisu!” sasha said, and you could almost see tears in her eyes.

Your shoulders relaxed as your feet carried you to the blonde, hugging her tightly as she hugged you back. You felt sasha join, followed by connie, then marco and jean.

the warmth made your heart swirl around in your chest, like how your hair would sway with summer breeze.

It all felt so familiar, your bones almost hurt.

Then again, it could just be connie squeezing you.

The group separated from the hug, but jean’s hands had somehow found yours, with no physical inclination to removing it.

You hesitantly welcomed his gentle yet firm grip on your wrist, as historia led all of you inside the house you had stood admiring for three minutes. Historia glanced at jean’s hold on you, as she sent you a wink, and led your group into the house.

Historia was really one of the first people you openly admitted to having a crush on Jean. Though she couldn’t really help much because of your stubborn reluctancy, she did cheer you on from the sidelines as you did her with Ymir. You and her grew apart over the years, after she had been crowned queen, and with Ymir gone, you’d hardly hear from her for months. Regardless of her busy schedule and broken heart, she replied to almost all of your letters. The last one you sent stated about you were scared of the war, asking about how she was doing with her pregnancy. You didn’t know if she had ever answered it, and you wouldn’t have known even if she did.

You could almost feel the excitement as you entered the house. Your gaze was fixed on historia, talking animatedly with sasha and Connie, promising to give them a tour of her house. The hallway that led to the main drawing room itself was long, leading to a staircase.

“please give us a tour of the kitchen. I swear I won't touch anything I just really want to see.” Sasha pleaded. You smiled, biting the inside of your cheeks, seeing niccolo hide his face with his hand, pretending to be embarrassed, even though you knew he wanted to see the kitchen as well.

Marco piped up from your left, “calm down sash. Im pretty sure hisu has snacks for us.” He said, to which historia nodded enthusiastically.

“well why didn’t you say that before, and what are we still doing here-“

“there you guys are, finally! We were wondering what all that commotion was about.” You heard someone’s voice boom through the corridor.

Jean instinctively shuffled closer to you, shoulder touching yours as his grip slightly tightened on your wrist. Based on his reaction alone, you immediately knew who’s voice it was.

“Jaeger bomb!” connie almost shouted. Even though connie had met eren last week, it didn’t stop him from tackling him with a hug which eren thankfully reciprocated with the same energy.

“eren, wait.”

Mikasa.

Her voice was the same, gentle and scolding, kind of like a mother, though the hard edge of it was gone. She emerged in the hallway, her red scarf nowhere to be found. Instead, in its place, was a choker.

You had to admit, her aesthetic fit her more than you’d have imagined. She wore an oversized black t-shirt, paired with a short skirt that almost hid under the shirt. Her neck was adorned with about three chains, and you wouldn’t have been surprised if she had gotten a belly button piercing as well. Her eyeliner was bold, and she wore black lipstick as though it was made for her, and you were pretty sure it was.

Her hair was longer, tied into two buns. You left jean’s side and joined sasha in going in for a bear hug, swaying lightly as Mikasa swayed with both of you.

the sheer familiarity of all your oldest new friends almost made your knees buckle. You were pretty sure you’d have fallen down already if it wasn’t for Mikasa and sasha’s grip on you.

“come on, (y/n)! everyone else who’s done it has been caught!” sasha cried, holding your hand in hers.

Mikasa sat beside the two of you, on your shared bunk, as she watched sasha practically climb on to you, begging you to sneak into the kitchens to bring her a snack.

Everyone knew sasha’s definition of a snack was basically a feast.

“this is peer pressure! I will not succumb.” You said, but you already knew your resolve was crumbling. The smile on your face slipped out, and sasha knew she won, a smile of her own creeping on her lips, as she let out a small squeal.

It was almost a weekly occurrence : after your hand to hand combat training in which you’d always somehow end up paired with jean, sasha would get incredibly hungry, usually right after dinner time. Everyone else in the dorm would get ready for bed, half anticipating sasha to convince you into submission. She’d eventually sit right beside you, pleading eyes meeting yours as Mikasa would try to tell her to calm down.

Of course, after you caved, youd sneak into the kitchens expertly, escaping shadis’ hawk eyed rounds while sasha and Mikasa would cover for you. returning with some leftover bread and cold potatoes, you’d leave some for the boys near their dorms and make your way to your own bunk, where sasha and the rest of your friends would greet you with wide smiles and whispered “thank you’s” while grabbing some of the food,one of the rare occasions where Mikasa and sometimes even annie would crack a smile.

“when eren and I were in singhanshina, we’d always do this. Carla – eren’s mom – would always pull eren’s ear in the morning when she found out that half the bread was gone.” Mikasa said lowly and she munched on half of the potato you shared with her.

You smiled thinking about it.

“when I was little, I’d bring home all the produce from the garden but sneak some into my room before my dad found out about it. I don’t think he ever found out about it, actually. To be fair, it was a lot of produce. Oh and the mea-“

“don’t speak with your mouth full, sash. You’ll choke.” You said, swallowing a bite of your own potato.

“eh. It’ll be worth it. Better than dying at the hands of titans.”

“fair. I’d like to die doing something I love.” You said, which grabbed mikasa’s attention.

“and what would that be?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe of old age? That’s pretty boring though.”

“oh, maybe you should go out in a blaze of glory!” sasha said, eyes bright.

“nah, that’s not my thing. Maybe just something peaceful, knowing I’ve done my job well, yaknow?” you whisper, stuffing the last bit of the potato in your mouth.

Mikasa sighs softly, “I just…. Don’t want to watch my friends die before me. I know it will be inevitable… but I don’t want to be the last one remaining.”

“you wont be, mika.” You say, turning to look at her on your left. Her gaze was fixated on her lap, the skin of the boiled potato discarded into her left hand. The soft glow of the candle made her grey eyes look softer than how they usually looked during training.

“yeah! Besides, we’re brave enough to protect ourselves. We want to be here for you too.” Sasha said, hugging mikasa’s side, as you did the same.

Mika placed her own non-dirty hand on the ones engulfing her in a hug, burying her chin into her scarf.

“thank you,” she says, “thank you.”

jean’s hand found it’s way to the small of your back, almost as if being with his old friends activated the reflexes that he forgot he had, as if his hand would burn off if he didn’t hold you in some way.

But everytime you moved away from his touch he felt his heart stop. He expected this, of course. He’d hurt you and it was idiotic to think that you’d forgive him just like that.

Jean watched from the side as you interacted with reiner and bertholdt, laughing at ymir’s harsh jabs at reiner. Jean mostly remained silent, watching the others joke around and catch up, adding his own opinions once in a while. Sitting on the plush couch that he knew cost more than his entire tuition, surrounded by his friends’ laughter and warm chatter, jean felt…alone. You were so far out of his reach now, standing near reiner, at the other end of the room, where your voice didn’t quiet reach his ears unless you were laughing.

He sighed slightly, getting up without an excuse to tell marco, exiting the current conversation between marco and eren. Something about eren’s degree that jean didn’t really pay attention to.

Making his way over to you, he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“jean! How have you been?” reiner exclaimed, having noticed him first.

Jean shrugged, “can’t really complain. Glad to see you’re here, though.” He says, and he means it. Over the years, he grew to find in himself the forgiveness reiner needed, even growing closer to him after…everything. Now, especially in this new life, he knew reiner didn’t need to be blamed for that. Though jean still had troubles when he first met him, he quickly got over those bitter feelings. No need to carry them into a new life, right?

Reiner beamed at him, something he never did before this life. He seemed at peace, for once, and who was jean to ruin that?

Reiner continued talking to you, pulling out his phone to show you pictures of his dog, lola, who jean had seen multiple times before. Jean watched you coo at the pictures, zooming into them and pointing out details about the dog he hadn’t even noticed himself.

Jean’s eyes softened. He had to do something about this tension he so readily welcomed before, he had to fix this. So what if he felt like he would loose you again? he’d make the most of it, this time. He’d dreamt about asking you to marry him way too many times for it to not have become a reality. He was not going to hide behind his fears anymore, if he was taught anything from his past life was that he was a coward, but a brave one at that. He would prove it now, with you. he owed it to you, to himself.

He cleared his throat, a desperate act to grab your attention. You, however, kept on reiner’s phone, who was now showing you a video of his new coffee machine he got with bertholdt. Jean tried again, this time reaching his hand on the small of your back. his spot.

You look at him, finally, and jean cheers internally.

“can I talk to you for a minute?” he asks, and he’s sure you'll say no. you’re sure you’ll say no, too, but you couldn’t. like an instinct, something you couldn’t control, you nodded. You couldn’t throw away a lifetime with him for his stupidity, and you for one, were well acquainted with jean’s stupidity.

You excuse yourself from reiner, asking him to send you more of the videos of the coffee machine, and followed jean to one of the many giant balconies in historia’s house. How he knew the way, you had no idea.

He closed the glass doors as you stood by the railing. You knew he was nervous about explaining whatever situation he was in to you. mentally preparing yourself for hearing the worst of the words you kept hidden in your mind these past few months, you braced yourself. You were scared that hearing it from him would make it more real, more soul crushing, the fact that your past lover now loved someone else. You wouldn’t know how to handle it, if even you could. It was ironic, really, that in your last life you’d fought till your last breath, only to be scared of a mere sentence in this world. You wanted to delay this as much as you could, you wanted to keep the memories of jean in your arms in the nights you spent in marley, the only time you allowed yourself to have any semblance of a normal, domestic life with him.

Jean shuffled next to you, and you tried to control your breath.

“look…” he started, turning his head to look at you. you refused to meet his eyes, fearing the lump in your throat would bubble its way up through your tears. You kept your focus on the lone pole star that twinkled in the sky.

You heard him sigh, “can you… look at me, when I do this, please? I need to know what youre feeling.” He asks.

You let out your own breath, mirroring his sigh. Staring down at his shoes first, you reluctantly bring yourself up to look at him. the grip you had on the railing tightened, and his eyes flickered down to them. Swallowing, you nodded for him to continue, your face remaining expressionless.

“I’m… okay, I know I’ve been a complete dick to you these past few months. I have an explanation, I really do, but I wanted to say sorry first. You definitely didn’t deserve that. God, you… you deserve so much more than this, really,” he let out a sad laugh, “but I’m sorry. Im so, so, so sorry.” He says.

You blink, tilting your head slightly. You weren’t expecting an apology for his behaviour, but honestly, you took it. He had been a dick, for lack of a better word, and you were glad he was apologizing for that instead of telling you he found someone new. You knew it was coming, but you decided to savour this moment a little bit before jean continued. He opened his mouth to speak before you interrupted him.

“its alright. You have been…”

“terrible? Rude? Asshole-ish?”

Your lips twitch. “all of the above.” You inhale. You had to do this yourself, instead of hearing it from his mouth, the same mouth that kissed you in your last life so lovingly that you were sure he could’ve brought you back to life if he tried. “I know what you’re gonna say, and it’s… it’s okay. I mean, I’d only expect you to move on, you know? Its literally been a lifetime. I… its okay if you ran out of patience and wanted to-“

“wait, what? What are you talking about?” he asks. His hands are no longer stuffed into his pockets, instead reaching out for yours. He looks at you like he’s hurt, his eyes scanning your face desperately. Your own brows furrow. Okay, now youre confused. He hasn’t moved on like you thought he had? That still made no sense, jean wouldn’t have just ignored all your advances just because he felt like it. You trusted him more than your own hands to know that he wouldn’t do that to you if he wasn’t influenced to.

“I thought… I thought you moved on, that’s why you were being like that. I mean I am hurt, but I also didn’t blame you for finding someone else. was that… not what you were going to tell me? that you’ve found someone?” you asked, mind whirring. Your grip on the railing loosened.

Jean looked at you for a minute, unblinking, and you baited your breath. He lets out a laugh then, his shoulders slumping. His hands cover his face up as he laughs like a madman, and you're left wondering what could’ve been so funny about what you said.

His hands slip off his face. He looks at you, eyes fixed on yours, no longer uncertain or confused or guilty. Theres a glisten to them, like he’s about to cry, and if you didn’t know any better, youd think he was angry, but the crinkle in the corner of his eyes showed you otherwise.

“jesus, you thought I moved on? From you? are you insane? Fucking hell, (y/n), I don’t think I could do that even if I tried. You’re… quiet literally my soulmate. I don’t know how I even survived without you for so many years.” He says.

“huh?” is all you can manage to say. you let out yet another audible breath, feeling like your heart could beat again. relief floods your veins in an instant, like his words magically have that effect on you, and you’re sure they do. They have to. He has to.

His hands make their way on your waist, and the butterflies that should have subsided by two lifetimes flutter in your stomach once more.

Jean feels shitty, he really does, but he cant help smiling. You're allowing him next to you, you're letting him hold you like this, and it feels right, like your waist was meant to be held by him and him only, like the lines on his palm would spell out your name if he squinted. He wants to kiss you already, but he knows that would come later, after he’s done explaining himself. So, he gets on with this, refusing to waste another second hurting you stupidly.

“the reason I did that was because I was scared.” He starts. Now he’s the one averting your eyes. He feels your gaze on him, but he looks at his hands placed on your waist instead. “I was scared… that I'd lose you again. I didn’t want to love you just to end up being more hurt than I was last time. It's selfish, and stupid and, again, im so sorry I did that, but god, you don’t understand how bad it was after you…” he trails off, pausing to blink his tears away. Clearing his throat, he continues, “it hurt so much without you. it hurt to look at every flower and think about you, it hurt to live in the house we’d always talked about without you, it hurt to even… it hurt to breathe without you, love, and i… I didn’t want to live without you again. and just the thought of losing you a second time…. But I realised that loosing you was far better than refraining myself to love you. you’re hard to not love.”

He lifts his head up then. Your eyes are shining, your mouth slightly agape, and when he moves to rest his forehead against yours, you don’t stop him. you eyes flutter and he feels your hand reach for his cheek. You rest your palm there, and he fights all the cells in his body to not kiss your hand.

“im sorry I ever did that. Im sorry I hurt you for so long, im sorry that I had to consciously not think about you. please forgive me.” his voice cracks at the end. Your thumb traces circles on his cheekbone. Jean’s heart aches, like the way his joints do when he’s been sitting down for a long time and he finally stands up. jean feels like he has just woken up and is stretching his limbs from their position. He feels anew.

He only hopes you feel the same, and when you smile, he knows you do.

“youre such an idiot.”

He smiles too, and your feel his muscles move from under your palm, “the biggest.”

“you’re forgiven. Just… never do that again.”

He shakes his head, his hair tickling your forehead as he moves. “never. I promise.”

“just fucking kiss already!” you hear a muffled voice say. both of you turn your heads to see connie with his hands cupped around his mouth, and sasha with some popcorn in her hand, chewing them with a big smile. Marco stood along with them shooting you an apologetic smile along with two thumbs up, and you heard jean groan at the three.

Shaking his head, he looked at you again, “so… can i?”

Your answer came in the form of pulling him even closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and tangling your hands in his hair. He didn’t seem to care about the fact that you were messing up the hair that he meticulously styled for you, and you kissed his lips, his nose bumping into your cheek. You heard muffled cheers from inside the house, but the only thing you were focused on was his hands rubbing circles on your waist, one of them gradually finding its way to your cheek, trailing up your side in the process.

You swore you melted right there, and you swore he rebuilt you again, in two seconds, and when you both pulled apart from some much needed air, you sighed.

Pressing your lips onto the centre of his chest, you promised yourself to find him in all other universes all over again.

He smiled then, kissing the tip of your nose as shivers went up your spine. The soft yellow light glowed from the inside and he swore to himself that he’d find you in all other universes and hoped to kiss the tip of your nose just like he did in his last lifetime, just like he did in this one, just like he would in the next, and then the next, and then the next.

And even more after that.

He hoped.

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirstein #aot #jean kirstein x you #jean x reader #connie springer #sasha braus #marco bodt #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin

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gaoau · 4 months

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You can't bathe in the same river twice

Raison d'Être warnings — none. word count — 2.8k

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[Name] peered into the shop to try and see if she could catch a small glimpse of Chifuyu moving around to close for the day. Instead, another face she hadn't met before stared back at her with curious eyes. She blinked at the man, scanning her gaze over his apron and assuming he worked for Chifuyu. He seemed frozen in time as he rearranged the items on the shelves. He surely was an employee. Her knuckles didn't hesitate to knock on the locked door.

She caught Chifuyu's muffled voice calling from deep inside the store, making the man turn away from their staring contest for a moment. He nodded towards Chifuyu's detached orders and abandoned his task to unlock the door for her. [Name] clutched the strap of her bag while walking past him and into the store, hearing the click of the lock behind her. But then she turned to face him. Up close, her brain absorbed every bit of visual information it could as if it were a sponge.

The mind of an artist, no matter which field, has always worked in curious ways. [Name] was no exception even if the title felt alien on her. She stared at the man standing before her; there was so little to look at but it was more than plenty to have so much fun. Light, wide eyes with sharp pupils that almost pierced right through her. The shape of his face and how the two strands of bleached hair framed it perfectly. His hair—oh, man, his hair. She could spend hours and even days playing with the contrast in his hair with those streaks of blond here and there. Not to mention the beauty mark. The universe wasted no creative juices when designing him. Somehow, some way, for some reason, all the inspiration she needed crawled onto her hands willingly

"[Name]-san, welcome back!" came Chifuyu's greeting to snap her out of her trance. She spared one last glance at Kazutora, making a mental note to draw him at least once in her life, before turning to meet Chifuyu and his bright smile. Her lips rose on their own as they mirrored his expression. "This is Kazutora-kun, he's an employee. Kazutora-kun, this is [Name]-san, the one I told you about."

She stretched her hand towards Kazutora out of practiced politeness. "[Surname] [Name], it's a pleasure to meet you."

"You too. Hanemiya Kazutora," he nodded in response. His gaze flickered between his employer and this new woman. With a curt bow, he scurried away back to finish his job. Something about [Name] unnerved him greatly. She hadn't looked at him as if he were a person at all. Her eyes were looking somewhere completely different and Kazutora didn't like that.

Chifuyu excused Kazutora's behavior in his stead, which [Name] waved off with a chuckle. She understood the want and need to be quiet and unseen by new people. Her pupils darted towards the working man anyway, trying to ingrain every detail in her brain for later reference. In her brain, Kazutora seemed like he would be so much fun and so astonishingly interesting to draw. It was a chance she knew she couldn't pass up.

Her attention returned to Chifuyu before he could notice she had been staring at his employee. The smile that painted itself on her face at the mere sight of him was more than welcome. "Thank you so much for all your help, Matsuno-san. Not only with Ai, but also this." Her art supplies clattered in her bag when she motioned towards it.

Chifuyu laughed it off—yes, his curiosity was practically killing him, but he knew better than to push an artist to expose their works. He would've been lying if he'd said he hadn't accepted her request partly because he was interested in seeing her in action. The moment he'd heard her mention art, he knew he had to witness those same shaky hands that had saved a life become a new entity entirely to create something out of nothing. Chifuyu knew [Name] had it in her; judging by the way even her eyes seemed different than anyone else's he had ever seen before, he knew she was meant for more.

"I've been calling you by your given name this whole time, [Name]-san. Chifuyu is fine with me."

Strangely, oddly, for whatever reason, his words were a kind offer with no traces of hostility. He went straight for first names, and although [Name] didn't mind it on herself, casually addressing others could paralyze her. Intimacy—terrifying. "Then," she swallowed to let his name simmer on her tongue a little longer, "Chifuyu-san, thank you again for helping with this. I know it would've slipped my mind to take Ai to the vet, and now letting me paint here. I can't thank you enough."

But his smile was so reassuring. "Don't worry, I understand it's a big change. Anything I can do to help, and that includes painting fish at my shop." He didn't know how big of a change it actually was, he didn't know a single thing. He simply smiled and nodded and offered every bit of aid he could give. And [Name] looked into the intense blue of his irises and never felt warmer. She wondered if her hands could ever replicate something as fascinating as Chifuyu's eyes were; the eternity he drew with his gaze—she wondered if she could ever replicate him.

She started slow, because Chifuyu told her that was how it should be done.

Art had always been weird—or maybe it was [Name] herself. There never was any consistency in it at all; the approach, the feelings, the struggles, the weaknesses, the strengths. Nothing was ever consistent. Nothing was ever the same. For better or for worse, things changed. So she found herself cross-legged on the floor of a pet shop, straining her neck upwards, enjoying the process of mixing acrylics to the fullest. Something that a week ago had seem torture now regained its charm.

Chifuyu had left her to her own devices and resumed his work alongside Kazutora to close down. Painting was definitely not one of her fortes or a go-to medium. Colors were not made for her to play with. Still, it took only seconds, a simple glance to the swimming fish in their tanks for her to decide she'd whip out her brushes again. She had been surprisingly successful with Ai, so the fish were sure to help as well. While she listened to the two men and their footsteps around her, and the muffled words they exchanged, she sat by herself to fulfill her artistic needs.

Suddenly, art was fun again—it was so much fun. The hues on her palette were limited to two different colors, giving her a chance to paint the world in its most contrasting aspects. The white of her sketchbook disappeared underneath screaming yellows and swallowing purples. She didn't have to work around it when she used colors to build up shapes. She didn't have to work with white at all. Art wasn't consistent, but [Name] knew she could find joy in it as many times as she wanted, just as much as she could find pain. For now, dabbing complementary colors to find a fish, she appreciated her own talents.

She lifted the painting away from her face, taking a step back to scan over her progress. Curling lines and fluid movement. Fish. A grin tugged at her lips as her eyes flickered back and forth between the living reference and the product of her hands. Yes, her neck hurt, but doing this had never filled her chest with so much bliss.

The sheet was full of various fish in different shapes and sizes, all sporting the same monochrome shades of yellow and coming to life with purple volume. She smiled to herself while giving herself a pat on the back. The feeling of accomplishment overcame her as she set it aside to dry before she could go home. Her cheeks ached from beaming so widely.

Footsteps approached her as she reached for her drink beside her. The last brush she'd used landed safely in the paint water while she craned her neck up again, this time not to admire the fish but to meet Chifuyu's gaze. He offered her a simper, starting, "We're done already, [Name]-san. You can take your time, though."

[Name] mirrored his gesture as she multitasked. "I'm done here, too. I just need to pack up," she informed, tapping her brushes dry and bringing her drink to her mouth.

Chifuyu's eyes strayed for only a second—man, he was practically dying to see her painting. He hummed, trying to peer at the fish on the floor, mumbling, "How's Ai doi—What are you doing?" And when he looked at [Name] again, he was mortified to see her paint water so close to her face.

[Name] blinked and set the cup down. She stared in disappointment at her actual drink and how it was now ruined with her dirty brushes. "I should seriously stop doing that—oh, Ai?! He's doing great, would you like to see? He's a fantastic model."

And it seemed the universe was finally answering to Chifuyu's desires when [Name] rummaged through her bag to produce a different sketchbook. She opened it up to the last page she had used, a spread filled with Ais of all sizes and in all poses. Pencil studies, pen sketches, complete paintings, stylized versions, semi-realism. To quench the curiosity eating at him from the inside, he didn't hesitate to flip the pages backwards.

As [Name] packed up her art supplies, she heard the distinctive sound of sheets of paper turning. Her eyes flew wide open in panic and she froze. With a deep breath to tame her impostor syndrome, she pretended not to notice Chifuyu peeking into her latest failures—latest meaning a month old. She wasn't about to cry over someone flipping through her sketchbook, but she was about to cry over someone flipping through her sketchbook.

Chifuyu was impressed, to say the least. Maybe even surprised. Of course, he didn't know [Name] well enough to have an accurate judgment of her character, but he certainly did not expect her creations to look this vivid and strong. She seemed meek and hesitant, like an abandoned puppy drenched in the rain. All of her drawings, all of the spaces she'd filled with her skills, all of them glared back at him in large displays of pure ink. Solid black against the default white of the pages, building up strokes of pen and india ink and liners to work around the nothingness of white, creating something out of nothing. Such contrasting tones and visuals that he could have never been prepared for.

"These are…"

"All the same, right?"

He raised a brow at [Name] as she zipped her bag half-way. She was meek and hesitant, and yet she managed to make splatters of ink on a sheet of paper mean something. "Striking, bold. I like them." He patted himself on the back for finding the right words for her. He really did like them.

"Thanks." Her smile was thin. Chifuyu returned the sketchbook onto her hands. He caught the look in her eyes as she stared down at her own talented efforts. "I wish I could say the same. They're so… boring. I've been in a rut lately." He flinched slightly when [Name] nearly slammed the sketchbook shut and shoved it into her bag. She reached for the paint water still on the floor so as to avoid looking straight at him.

"I think they're really interesting to look at." And he grinned so genuinely. And he meant every word. "They catch the eye." Wordlessly, he grabbed the two cups from her hands, ignoring her protests. "You're very talented, [Name]-san."

Again, she dipped down to dismiss his compliments. Her fingers swiftly snatched the fish paintings off the floor and she self-consciously hid them against her chest. She glanced at the complementary yellows and purples. She stopped for a second, then looked into Chifuyu's eyes. "I think your employee is visually interesting. Is there any chance I could draw him?"

"Kazutora-kun…?"

[Name] nodded. Her attention flickered between Chifuyu and her spread of fish. The intense blue of his irises guiding her back to the counter and the golden yellow she'd whipped up in a second. Colors were coming back to her. "The values in his hair, the shape of his face, the color of his eyes. I'd like to try something like that and see if it helps, too."

She had only seen Kazutora for a brief moment and absorbed information he had never thought about despite years of knowing the man. Now, that explained why Kazutora had pulled Chifuyu to the side and quietly expressed he found [Name] unnerving. She had eyes—she had more eyes than regular people did. The world through her eyes was sure to be an interesting view.

"I see," Chifuyu hummed as he set down the dirty cups. "I'm sure he won't mind." That was a lie, but he would find a way to convince Kazutora.

[Name] smiled at him in gratitude. He couldn't help his own pupils from darting to the painted fish when she settled the sketchbook on the counter. "Sorry to keep you guys here while I played around. But thank you so much for the opportunity." She gave him a formal bow and flipped the fish paintings towards him.

"Anytime," Chifuyu replied on instinct. But he wasn't paying attention to her as he admired the dozens of fish swimming on a piece of paper. He gazed in awe at the images [Name] managed to skillfully capture in less than an hour. He locked eyes with her, unable to hold back his grin. "This is wonderful, [Name]-san. Do you take commissions?"

And [Name] almost lost her breath. Her brows bounced in sheer surprise at the excited words Chifuyu chucked at her. Commissions? He wanted to commission her? After seeing both her ink illustrations and these half-assed blobs of paint that vaguely resembled a bunch of fish. "It's, um, it's complicated. I mean, I'm sure I can make an exception for you, but I—Are you sure?"

"Yes, I love it." He what? "I'd like something for the shop; something like this would be amazing." He lifted the sketchbook to his eye level. Envisioning it on the empty walls of the shop, he decided he definitely wanted a painting like hers.

But [Name] could barely process the situation. "This?" she questioned, glaring at the fish. "You like this? You want to keep this?"

"Can I?"

"This?"

"Yes, it's beautiful. How much?" And Chifuyu only smiled to reassure her of her talents.

"You want to pay me? For this?"

"You worked hard on it."

"Chifuyu-san, this is a sketch," she emphasized as she removed the sketchbook from his grasp. She glared at her own creation in disdain as if it had insulted her bloodline. "I didn't even think about composition with this. It's for fun, not for sale."

She could almost see his excitement dissipating while his lips faltered. "Oh, so I can't have it? It's too pretty to just stay in a sketchbook."

There was no way this grown man was pouting over a drawing. There was no way he wanted that drawing so bad. "You can—You can have it for free, if you'd like…" There was no way she was giving in just like that, so simply, so stupid.

Chifuyu's eyes seemed to sparkle again while he protested, "But you—"

"No." The sound of paper ripping off the booklet clamped his mouth shut. She slid the sheet of paper towards him with hesitant determination. "It's a gift. Take it as a thank you for all your help."

And although he accepted it, he knew she was meant for more. "I'll pay you for the next one then."

It tugged at her chest to hear him. It made her heart feel so sore. [Name] failed to understand why he'd trust her skills enough to want to pay for a measly, mindless sketch. He kept it regardless. He called it pretty. She could barely process how astonishing it was that someone appreciated her art. The look in his eyes as he admired the fish told her if she let him go, she'd be losing the biggest fortune she'd ever found.

#Raison d'Être #Tokyo Revengers #Matsuno Chifuyu #Chifuyu #Matsuno Chifuyu x Reader #Chifuyu x Reader #Tokyo Revengers x Reader #tokrev #tokrev x reader

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ducknotinarow · 9 months

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2012 Karai - All Symbol Headcanons please uwu

| Send me a symbol and I will write a headcanon about… For multimuse blogs, please specify!

Personally speaking Karai is a very big favorite of mine being always in-between as an ally and enemy of the turtles. 2012's take is a favorite of mine though I do still sort of prefer 03's back story. Personal hot take I just don't care for her being Splinters daughter Miwa. It didn't really go anywhere and I am sad that she never got to like bond with the turtles after the reavel and such? Sure they risk a lot to try and save her but really only Mikey seems to see her like a sister. Which is sad to me I feel we could have seen some fun dynamics with her more included. But I won't get into that XD once again this is mostly going towards the Foot!Casey au. But anything not outright directed to that can be applied to Karai over all.

𝓕 : My muse’s handwriting. (Is it good, bad, difficult to decipher, do they prefer writing by hand or with the help of some form of machine, e.t.c.)

"A steady hand is needed when you deal with weapons." From Karai's hand writing we can she is sensible, even tempered and rational. She can be optimistic. well also being discreet and value silence. She notice everything and pays great attention to detail. Karai is a careful, methodical thinker.

Which I would say is a fitting result on here handwriting. Before I break down into that i'm sure you noticed the lack of a surname in her's that is on purpose. As Karai tries to sever her ties with her father even dropping her name, despite Karai needing to be kept to the shadows and such her father dose hold some ties mainly in Japan. So Karai legally gets emancipated. She is of age to be able to do it after all.

back to her hand writing results, Karai is a sensible person she likes to have all the information before she acts. She isn't often motivated by her own emotions even openly dissing her father on his obsession saying he needs a hobby. Karai can hold her temper and act much more rational. But she can sometimes get trigger into actting on her own emotions where they too much and this is when she tends to go against her usual ways. Jumping in head first with no plan or course of action her drive is to hurt. Surprisingly she can be pretty optimistic but thats a survival tactic being the daughter of Shredder offers a pretty bleck life so anything that can be something good to hold on to she needs too. Rather it's finally getting justice for her mother to making sure her Brother and sister finally can be free. Taking into account she is a kunoichi discreet and silence is just ingrained into her. Along with her need to pay attention to detail.

As how shes able to pick apart April's lies about the turtles when mention she has four brothers who speak Japaneses and such. Or how she is too damn aware of how people carry themselves able to mock the body language needed to fool others. When her emotions are not ruling her actions she very good at planning steps ahead. Able to get the better of many for her thought and plans alone. Emotions are her only true weak spot.

✈ : My muse and traveling. (If they do it frequently and why, if they never left their home town, e.t.c.)

"I really only been to Japan and New York." Karai didn't outright join Shredder until a bit later she grew up in Japan where Shredder main base for the foot clan resides and a lot of her training was. She later moved to New York so she could join her father on his revenge mission. Working as his right hand almost. Outside of this Karai hasn't travel around too much in her life. But it's something she would love to do more.

✿ : My muse and nature. (If they are an ‘outdoorsy type’, like the sound of bird’s singing, if they have never set foot in a forest, e.t.c.)

"I know how to survive if having to go into the woods if that's what you mean?" Sort of, Karai isn't big on camping and such shes a tad prissy this way. Not that she'll be against it she just ain't having much fun sleeping in the dirt. She rather stay up and play look out. So no she isn't all to connected to nature. Funny considering she is part snake now?

☼ : My muse’s first memory. (Where it was, who was with them, how this memory makes them feel, e.t.c.)

"First memory? it could be a dream but I swear it's real. Looking at a women with long dark hair telling me sorry."

Karai's first memory is also the day she lost her mother int the fire. Her mother was trapped in the building that ended up getting set on fire thanks to the fights going on. Her mother was trapped under some of the roofs structure trapped her. She just has the word sorry trapped in her mind. Karai is positive that memory is the day she lost her mother. The vague memory just fits so while to the photo she has of her mother. But for all she knows she made up that memory.

☙ : My muse’s favourite food. (Bonus: A memory, be it good or bad, associated with said food.)

"If a certain red colored turtle hurts my brother? I know someone who can make them into turtle soup for me."

It will be turtle soup if Raph ever hurts Casey. But I would say her favorite food is Baozi. She prefers them with bean paste more of treat but sell eat the kinds with meat and veggies as well. If going more savory she likes pork. In part it's why she took so well to the pizza goyza almost being close to her own favorite food. It's something easy to eat and you don't really need to sit down and eat.

♬ : My muse and music. (What type of music they like listening to and in what context, what music they would never listen to, e.t.c.)

"hmm not big on music anything that's good is fine, i just have natural good taste."

Karai come across ver underground music lover, indie artis and such she not to fixed on a style of music punk rock may be a norm but sometimes she'll branch out.

I feel Karai is the type to indulge her lost childhood healing towards her inner child she has a guilty pleasure enjoyment for musical songs from Disney movies, shows and more. Can blame it on watching those kind of movies with angel but she can and has been caught humming them to herself at times. And sometimes the songs hit her a bit too close to home.

↺ : My muse and the past. (Do they live in the past and struggle to let go of past grievances, or move on more easily, is there anything in their past they want to forget, e.t.c.)

"I guess I do when it come to my mother." Karai never got to know her mother, take from her when she was just a baby. Karai often tries to hold anything she can as a connection to her even down to the flower she claims is her favorite. Purely based on knowing her mother loved them. Karai dosen't care much for her fathers vendetta against Yoshi, not till he tells her he killed her mother then she sees them as her enemy. April stating she lost her own mother was also enough to trip her up and give the lesser experienced fighter a chance to beat her. Karai often wonders if shes anything close to the person her mother would want her to be.

Karai after things with Casey goes down even more so worries about this, feeling she is willing to sell her soul to be rid of the demon she now see's their father as. She is certain her mother wouldn't want her to let revenge eat away at her. But she could have lost someone important to her someone who sort of filled the void left by her mother in her life. She Nearly lost Casey because of Shredder same as she lost her mother to him. Letting him live means her loved ones will always be in danger.

She may not be too different from her father in the end stuck in the past and letting revenge become an obession.

☾ : My muse and sleep. (How much they sleep, how much they wish to sleep, if there is something that never fails to put them to sleep, e.t.c.)

"Periodically, I sleep through the night most I don't. I must be alert often after all."

Karai is pretty light sleeper something she was trained as when studding under her teacher. She never knew when he would strike so she got used to sleeping as light as possible that way she could both work off little sleep leaving a moment of weakness out of her but also meaning when she can sleep she only dose in short periods of time. She gets by with a near like nap like of sleep.

✧ : My muse and art. (If they have an artistic side or not and why, favourite artist if they have one, e.t.c.)

"Eh not my thing, next?"

Shes no artist but I like to think she likes looking at Casey's drawings as they grew up.

❃ : My muse and social media. (If the muse is/would be on social media and why/why not, their general opinion on it, e.t.c.)

"I'm in the foot clan we don't do that?"

Casey might use some but Karia not really at all, she only joined twitter as an act of rebellion since they are meant to not take part of the world and remain unknown and hidden from it. Thier father pissed her off one night so see made an e-mail and a twitter. Pretty sure she had to get Casey to help with both. As mentioned she only has Twitter and she hardly looks at it when she dose it's most just for aesthetic posts from Japan or China. Or overly decorated weapons.

Eventually she starts using it to follow indie musicians and find out where they are holding shows that she will sneak out to go watch. She still not all to versed in how twitter works she can't figure out how to save the cool poster made up for flyers for a lot of the musicians get made up on to her phone. Casey don't be rude please show her again u-u

✉ : My muse and others. (If they social and outgoing or more introverted, and why. If they prefer communicating with others face to face or in written form, e.t.c.).

"I'm clearly a people person?"

She is far from a people person. Karai may be very observant which is a great skill but she knows nothing on interacting with people. This is actually why she wasn't picked for the mission to betray the turtles. She lacks social skills very very badly and it's not hard to see why. She isn't too good about blending in either. Shes very stand offish and cold. And a clear required taste not someone who can go behind enemy lies and not come across as a possible threat.

This even extends to her and Casey. She may be able to tell he is lonely but she doesn't understand past this why he keeps away so much. She can easily read a person buuuut interaction comfort and just stuff most people learn from growing up? even empathy? shes has a glaring spot of lacking that skill set. It's a big part of why it's a miracle she even has Shin as a friend.

▶ : My muse and level of education. (If the muse has some form of education, what education they perhaps wish they had, e.t.c.).

"All my schooling is home, dad wasn't cutting corners and made sure the best of the best taught me." More reason why she is bad at interactiong and even just acting her age she never went to a public school always home school with best teachers money could buy. Karai is very smart she graduated early even. As stated she is very good with computers with their piratical uses and can even trick Donatello or least give him an annoyance so that's where I would set her intelligence.

◐ : My muse and animals. (If they like animals and treat them well, do not care for them at all, e.t.c.).

"hmm I did want a pet as a kid." Karai was lonely of course she wanted something like a cat or a dog but she never got one. But that didn't stop her from getting attached to stray animals here and there. Sneaking food out to alley cats and homeless dogs. She has a bit of a soft spot for them.

❒ : My muse and gifts. (If they are good/bad at finding gifts, good/bad at receiving gifts, good/bad at wrapping gifts, e.t.c.)

"Five finger discount works well." I feel like despite being rich Karai knows how to steal and dose it way to often it's fun she doesn't even want the stuff but sometimes it hard to not steal? So lets just say when she is feel extra nice Casey may be gifted better eyeliner and such and Angel new dolls or things that she can use for her dolls. So I'd say shes a good gift giver and long as you don't care where it comes from? Just enjoy the present.

☘ : My muse’s relation with their family. (If they speak with each other and how much, if they are close or estranged, e.t.c.).

"It's well, yeah."

Mother- Karai's mother is her whole world, she never met her but she is always on her mind and carried in her heart. Desperately hopes to avenge her own mother's death by killing her true killer. Even though she doesn't know what her mother was actually like, she cares deeply for her and is even carries a torn-off, dilapidated photo of her mother around with her. And Karai wishes to be more like her but she has become her father instead and choose to which is worse but she rather burn in hell if she can right somethings.

Father- actually quite complicated. She seems to fear the Shredder at certain times, but obeys him. She doesn't hold much respect for him more out like most teens with their parents. Often makes remarks and argue with him. But she still saved him a very times when he could have died still seeing him as her father first. Until she learns how he has been treating Casey and that its the reason Casey goes to kill himself.

Angel- Her younger sister, she and Angel bond over the fact neither of them ever got to met their mother. Sometimes it's hard to understand a connection you should have with someone you never even met. Karai on her own end has a tend more of a motherly older sister approach to Angel because of this. It's why shes in comparison nice to Casey. She often can be found brushing Angel's hair and styling it, if Angel dose wish to make her own like Karais she would help with dying it even. Angel could ask anything of Karai nearly and she would do it with out hesitation. She wants Angel to get what she and Casey didn't the pleasure of being a kid.

Casey- Karai and Casey are the same age but Casey is older only by a bit so for a few times during the year he is older. Despite this all Karai dose learn to sort of lean on Casey as if he is the older sibling. She's not the best as being open and vulnerable but she has exposed this side to Casey. Telling him about her mother and such at least something he relates to with her on and over. Casey is a very soft and caring person and Karai honestly could out right tease him by saying he acts like a mom but she dosen't because she likes that about him. How he worries about her and gets on her case even. Casey is a lot of things to Karai. So she will do anything for him as well, she would have helped him with the turtle even without their bet. When she dose find him after his suicide attempt she sees that she could have lost someone who has impacted her life in ways she wasn't aware of before. And its the last straw for her when it comes to their abusive father.

#muse| karai #madamkezzie #aflockoffeathers #[ your annoying and weird but your still my brother aflockoffeathers]#[ in clam or stormy weather little sister -aflockoffeathers]#((it's from a pome i ike XD))#[foot!casey]#muse bio: karai #meme anaswers #ic reply #tw: suicide mentioned #tw: abusive parent mentioned #tw: character death mentioned #stayed qeued

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