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estcaligo · 22 days

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Sebek's ears

Sebek x gn!reader, with a bit of angst

"Sebek, put that down!" a worried shout pierced the room. Doctor Zigvolt dashed towards the boy, but it was too late - the child had already nicked his ear. It wasn't a serious injury, thankfully, but blood stained his son's ear, neck, shirt, and his mint hair.

Hearing the commotion, Mrs. Zigvolt hurried into the room. "Darling, what's-...!!!" Her voice caught in her throat, turned into a scream of shock that thundered throughout the household, startling every bird in the vicinity into a flutter of panic, as if sensing an imminent danger.

But there was no danger. Only blood. And tears. And a kid in front of a mirror with a kitchen knife in his hands.

"Sebek, let me take a look. You might get an infec- " Mr. Zigvolt tried to approach Sebek gently, but the boy pushed him away, sobbing loudly.

"This is your fault! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!! I HATE YOU!!!" Sebek cried out in despair, tears streaming down his sorrowful face as he ran past his parents. Mrs. Zigvolt could easily treat any wounds (it was one of the reasons she had been accepted to work at her husband's clinic despite lacking medical training), but now was not the time - Sebek wouldn't listen. So she just stood beside her spouse, watching their youngest son run away, not daring to break the silence. Words were unnecessary; they both understood. Sebek, despite being only 5, had already expressed a grand displeasure towards his human side. The destructive prejudice he had acquired not without help…

…

"A kitchen knife?... Back in Briar Valley, my grandfather would always look displeased whenever I entered the kitchen. So, I'm entirely unfamiliar with all cooking implements." Sebek said to the ghost chef.

"Oh? Why is that?" the chef asked.

"I have no idea... But he especially kept me away from sharp objects, like knives." he replied, examining the object in his hand.

"Well, mastering this skill is necessary for the course, so do your best!" the chef cheered, floating next to him.

"YES, CHEF!" Sebek boomed, making all the pans and pots shiver, and got back to cooking his dish.

…

It was rigorous but rewarding training, Sebek reflected, slowly washing his hands. Days spent in the kitchen were filled with various instructions and orders from the ghost chefs, requiring quick reactions, but due to their ghostly nature their words often faded, lingering in the air, so a regular human would have trouble hearing them. BUT NOT SEBEK ZIGVOLT. He had perfect hearing, his ears were sharper than...

…Sharper than what?....

He looked into the mirror of the Diasomnia dorm's bathroom, coming to wash away the smell and smudges from the Master Chef course. His face darkened once again as he lingered too long on his right ear. He remembered that day vividly. When he, a young and immature kid, tried to... tried to become a fae? Tired of being bullied by those around him, he believed that if he changed his ears - made them pointy like everyone else's - it would help him fit in. But now he understood how foolish it was.

Yet still. What makes a fae? A pair of pointy ears? “Not necessarily” is what his mother always used to say Be blessed by night, but don’t forget about the day And remembers, and he knows No need in those Yet still.

A bitter feeling of unfairness washed over him as he was drifting off to sleep.

Why? Of all human qualities, why did he have to have round ears? He had asked himself this question a million times. And it wasn't as if he lacked fae qualities - his hearing surpassed any human's, and he could even hear and understand the fae language, something no human could do due to its nature. He possessed all these abilities, yet they were overshadowed by this small, bitter nuance - his appearance. Genetics had played a cruel joke on him, he thought. Despite his efforts, he will always look like a weak, useless human.

Speaking of weak humans.

You and Sebek had arranged to meet at the gates to head down to Foothill Town today. Rumor had it that the famous bookshop there had new arrivals, and you were eager to take a look. And since Sebek was so knowledgeable about books, you invited him along. Of course, it wasn't like he really wanted to go with you! He had far more important matters to attend to. However, he couldn't risk you selecting subpar books that you might later mention in conversations with Master Malleus - Sebek couldn't let your lack of discernment in literature reflect poorly on the Young Lord!! So, he was coming with you, for that reason alone, nothing more! … The road wasn't long, and once you arrived at the shop, you began browsing the shelves. The selection was vast: novels, scientific works, poems, historical texts, dictionaries, even books in languages you couldn’t understand. Unable to decide, you grabbed a handful of books that caught your attention and retreated to a quiet corner to examine your finds.

“Get on with this human, I don't have all day” he said, standing next to you, arms crossed.

“Ok ok, how about this one?”

"It looks fine. You can keep it, I suppose."

"Great! And this?" you showed Sebek another book, but he frowned slightly.

"It doesn't seem like a decent book to me. Better put it away."

"Why? It's about knights. What exactly do you dislike about it?"

"The cover doesn't look appealing. As if they didn't put much effort into designing it properly!" he declared loudly enough to draw a few judgmental glances from the other customers.

"And that's it?" you blinked at him. "But the plot itself must be good!"

"I've given my opinion, do as you wish, human!" he huffed, turning away.

"...Oh, Sebek. Never judge a book by its cover."

…

In the end, you purchased quite a few books (Crowley had been unusually generous this month, providing you with some extra money), and Sebek helped you carry them back to the Ramshackle. As a thank-you for accompanying you, you offered to share a cup of tea together and he agreed.

...However, for the two of you, it was never just "having a cup of tea".

As usual, you found yourselves engrossed in intimate conversations, drawn close to each other.

Grim was absent, so it was just you and him on the couch in the spacious Ramshackle hall. Two cups of tea, long forgotten and gone cold, sat on the table.

Sebek rested his head on your lap, as he often did during your moments together, rambling about the books, his duties, or about Malleus, speaking quieter than his usual self. And you just patiently listened, knowing how hard he worked every day and wanting him to have some rest once in a while. The fact that he could relax in your presence made you genuinely happy.

Wrapped in serenity, you gently caressed his mint hair, occasionally running your fingers over his ears. You had grown accustomed to seeing them very clearly, as Sebek wore his hair swept back all the time. But when he was with you he sometimes let his hair loose and his ears became hidden amidst the soft waves of green, looking like two small islands surrounded by endless grassy seas. Or like curious animals peeking from the leaves. It was both adorable and endearing, and you couldn't help but giggle quietly. “Human! Is there a problem with your ears?! I’m talking to you!” Sebek’s loud voice brought you back from your daydreaming.

“Oh, sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment.”

“Hmph! And what was so captivating that you ignored my question?”

“Oh... er... your ears” you smiled shyly.

“My... what?”

…

“Your beautiful, lovely, adorable ears" you laughed at his reaction, showering him with compliments before placing a kiss on his right ear - the one he had once tried to...

A wave of strange warmth suddenly flushed through his body. Why would you say such things about his terrible flaw?

All his life, people around him in his homeland had diminished him because of his round ears. On Sage’s Island, people just ignored this feature, so he assumed they wouldn’t comment on the obvious. But you? The way you touched them, the way you kissed them - without revulsion, without hesitation, without doubt.

For a moment, he felt something unfamiliar - like nothing else mattered. An unusual feeling, one he only experienced by your side. But he liked it.

Who cared if he didn't have pointy ears? Who cared about others' judgments?

You were right - only fools judge a book by its cover.

“Sebek, do you hear me?” you were the one asking this time.

“Yes. Yes, I can hear you very well, dear human” he said, leaning in for a kiss.

#yes i'm doing it #i really like this one #twisted wonderland #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader #caligo's stories

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tojisun · 1 year

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“your heart is where mine lies” IS SO GOODDDDDD. toji’s cuteness, the way toji reveres the reader and gojo’s secret crush is so AMAZING. I’d give anything to see more of that💕

omg thank you so so much!!! 🫶🏼

i just. i was going through something and i needed something soft and lovesick to pull me out of my slump. im so so glad that you liked it 🥹 means so much to me <33

im a goner for gojo having the biggest friend-crush on reader. just him adoring you and caring for you and just being an amazing, sometimes annoying, best friend!!!!

like my god he’s so possessive of you!! always cuddled you and held your hand and wrapped his long limbs around you because ugh you’re sun-personified and he just wants all your loveliness and gentleness and softness.

when you first started talking to toji (mr. fushiguro, some older guy you met at the local festival that satoru unfortunately ha to miss; mr. fushiguro who so happened to be behind you as you practically fumbled about your being before slumping in defeat at the realization that you’ve left your wallet at home; mr. fushiguro who stepped up beside you and told the vendor that he’d pay for your candied apple and one cola float for him, thanks) satoru found himself not approving of it. he all but told you that toji is old and weird. you rolled your eyes at him and whacked him with your pillow.

satoru almost whined and sobbed as he flung himself across your lap — short as you are — because he didn’t know what to name the feeling that was curling at the pit of his stomach; because he didn’t want to know why he felt that way.

but. you looked so happy. you still do. and satoru — campus’ most popular man because of his dashing looks and his fat wallet, full of daddy’s money — loves you.

“not like ‘that’ (not anymore), don’t you worry your pretty head, babe.” winks.

so gojo satoru gave you two his blessings — “we really didn’t need it but thanks, toru.” — and cheered you on as you replied to toji’s confession that yes, you love him too and yes, you’d love to be with him too.

nothing really changed after that. satoru still flings himself across your lap, spoils you with his dad’s money, sticks his tongue out at toji — “wait, what?” — and he is still the most amazing best friend in this world to ever bless your pretty self.

(toji rolls his eyes at seeing satoru flip him again while the overgrown bastard of a cat nuzzles his cheek at your shoulder, his pale face creased with a frown that toji almost wonders, with a sort of apprehension, if satoru’s face would cave in with how deep his frown has gotten.)

#anon #ask #toji fushiguro x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk #i luv toru-reader friendship sm 😫#but i luv toji the most teehee #suns #edited

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traegorn · 2 years

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There are a bunch of posts floating around my dash today by non-Wiccan witches saying "Don't say Blessed Be to me."

I have some thoughts here.

I get that folks don't want to hear it -- like I see your reasons and respect the boundary (and I never liked saying it anyway for unrelated reasons). And, again, you're right -- it's a religious phrase that as far as I know originated with Gardnerian Wicca. I've never deep dived it, but that's what every source I currently have says -- linking it back to the (kinda gross) "Fivefold kiss" ritual that most Wiccans outside of BTW don't really do.

As in, "I have been a Wiccan for twenty-five years and never done that."

The phrase became a common, mundane greeting between Wiccans long before I became one, and I understand that non-Wiccan witches are tired of getting grouped in with us. I see that it bothers a number of folks when it's said to them, and it does me no harm not to say it.

So yeah, boundary understood and respected. I probably wasn't going to say it to you before, but I definitely won't say it to you now. We're good.

There's another part of me that isn't, like, bothered or offended that it bothers people, but is maybe just a little confused? Like I know I don't need to fully understand someone's feelings about a topic to respect them -- especially when it doesn't hurt me at all to do so. So, like, don't take this as an argument or anything. I'm just... offering insight into what's happening in my head? Like if you were just concerned about whether or not I was going to do the thing -- don't worry, I'm not going to do the thing. You can stop reading if that's all you cared about.

It's just... I get told "Bless you" or "Happy [Christian Holiday]" so often. Like sometimes daily. And, like, it doesn't bother me even though I'm not a Christian and literally my worst experiences with religious people have all been Christians. Like screamed at as a child that I was going to hell experiences. But when religious Christians say "God Bless You" to me in a genuine way... it never even clicks that something is wrong? I see it as a person of that faith engaging with me.

And again, I'm not trying to say you aren't allowed to feel how you feel when you hear something. I'm not in your head, I'm not in your house. I'm not saying this to dismiss your feelings. I don't need to fully understand why something bothers someone to understand that it does bother them. This was not an argument for or against anything.

This was just a brain ramble on the off chance anyone cared what I thought. And a reminder maybe to the Wiccans like me that might also be confused as to why it bothers folks -- that "harm none" bit in our rede? If folks are saying something harms them, maybe listen to them -- okay? You don't have to "get it" to respect it. It costs you nothing to just not say the words.

#Witch #witchblr #wicca #wiccan #witchcraft

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saras-devotionals · 1 month

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Quiet Time 4/5

What am I feeling today?

I’m feeling alright, I was quite productive yesterday which was good! I’m a little anxious of what today will bring but I look forward to it anyways! Hope to be in the OR this morning but whichever unit I’m floated to is sure to be enjoyable🤗

Luke 19 NIV

(v. 8-10) “But Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, “Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.” Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.””

Zacchaeus was a tax collector and some people were judging that Jesus would be eating with a sinner. But here we see that he was willing to give up his possessions and Jesus rewarded him. Also the last line is so crucial! Jesus came to seek and save the lost!!

(v. 35-40) “They brought it to Jesus, threw their cloaks on the colt and put Jesus on it. As he went along, people spread their cloaks on the road. When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!” “Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!” “I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.””

I really like this last line. Because obviously that people of the crowd are praising him as we are His creation and meant to give praise. But Jesus is here saying that even if the people were quiet, the stones (and I interpret this as all of God’s creation) would cry out! I just think that’s powerful, that all things are meant to praise the Lord!

(v. 41-44) “As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it and said, “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes. The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side. They will dash you to the ground, you and the children within your walls. They will not leave one stone on another, because you did not recognize the time of God’s coming to you.””

he wept :( I appreciate these moments because it humanizes Jesus. He was human, he had emotions, he cried, he did all things that we do as well and we’re so lucky to have the Lord know what it’s like to be us. He loved the perfect life and our aim should be to imitate him in every way.

(v. 47-48) “Every day he was teaching at the temple. But the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the leaders among the people were trying to kill him. Yet they could not find any way to do it, because all the people hung on his words.”

It’s just really intense when you think about it. They wanted to kill him. They were set on that. Every really early on and it’s quite disturbing really for them to pursue it so much to the point that they finally made it happen. And what a gruesome death it was :(

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meowcatsposts · 2 years

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Snowmen [Long Mian]

Overview

You were best friends during childhood

Almost inseparable

Playing in the snow and making snowmen

Then timeskip

Long Mian is now a Shadow Guard

And maybe a little unhinged

You two are no longer in touch

And you witness his destruction

But one day, he pays you a visit

“(Y/N)! It’s snow!”

The little boy’s white hair shimmered gently under winter’s waning sunlight. He dashed outside, admiring the blank canvas before his eyes. Milky ground, ivory rooftops, frosted branches…he wished he could somehow preserve its beauty, along with the lively little dot on his canvas–you.

You were currently molding a ball in your mitted hands, attempting to perfect its roundness with those little fingertips, too focused to even feel the biting frost.

“Are you making a snowball?” Long Mian asked, crouching down next to you, curious.

You shook your head, replying a little frustratedly, “I’m trying to make a snowman…but it’s not turning out well…”

The boy inspected the frost ball in your hands and began to make one of his own, but a little smaller. He then gently took your snowball from your hands and keenly placed his atop it, clumsily trying to stick the two spheres together. After a few moments, he breathed out, “...There! A snowman!”

His contented smile grew wider as he noticed your beaming expression.

But now, he relished the horror plastered on your face, as you viewed him behind a crumbling pillar.

The way his hair weaved through the wind. How he sliced the air cleanly, as if it were slabs of meat. Glacial, broken mirrors flying through the air, stabbing, cutting anything that dared step in its path. It was quite the sight to behold. Those ethereal horns and tail, a crystalline reflection of the dragon prince who bestowed him with ruthless power. How his cold lips turned into a small sneer, eyes narrowing just the slightest. And of course, those eyes–piercing golden eyes, spearing through your soul.

You couldn’t do anything, really. A measly little human, against a god-blessed Esper? All you did was follow the intricate patterns of his unstained attire, distancing from reality, mind ready to sear in pain–

Yet somehow, you lived to see another day, saved by his mercy.

Usually, Long Mian’s frosted heart had no room left for compassion.

Especially when it came to his collection.

Or after the death of his beloved dog.

Or Daniel’s betrayal.

But when the both of you were still children, your generous heart was always beating for him, ready to take on the burden of loss alongside him. You consoled him, even supported his idea to preserve his pet, when it died.

“Well...if it makes you happy,” you had said. “I think you should do it.”

His scarred little heart clung onto those words as if they were his lifeline, and ever since, he preserved anything and everything he found timelessly beautiful.

Every night after that incident, Long Mian’s haunting eyes would chase you through a labyrinth of artifacts; some contained the remnants of your frozen family, others reflected shards of memories you had with him long ago. And when your legs could carry you no more, a little boy, cuddling his limp dog, stares back at you with a smile so big it reaches his ears. He whispers, “I’ll make you part of my collection, too!”

Eyes shooting open, a single bead of sweat rolled off your pulsing neck. After calming your ragged breaths, your eyes darted to the window, seeking relief's warm embrace. Through the foggy glass you noticed small soft flakes floating down from the sky, and tremors wracked your entire body. From the dream or first snow, you couldn’t tell.

“It’s snowing.”

Frost always reminded you of the Long Mian who had bright keen eyes, void of death’s cruelty, with such a warm heart with so much to offer. Yet, after enduring so much loss, the fire kindling in his heart slowly died to blackened ash. Soon, you had to let go of the person he’d become; so cold, and unforgiving. But from time to time, especially during the days of first snow, you wondered how he held up–until now.

After looking death in the face, you realized he truly closed his heart off, layering it with thick ice.

“Because it brings me joy…” Long Mian muttered to himself, crumbling under Daniel’s cruel, piercing words, “...I do it.”

How Long Mian hated that he trusted a fool, whom he thought was his mentor, his companion. He nearly grew white with rage at himself, for letting his walls thaw, but even more so at Daniel, who never understood the beauty of his art. How marvelous those lifeless Miramon looked, caged in bars of ice, only he would understand.

However, whenever he felt voided, unloved, Long Mian used your words as an anchor to remain grounded. Grounded, so he’d perhaps be able to see you one day, after all those years. Grounded, so he wouldn’t drown you in an avalanche, unlike the rest of the deuced world.

Truly, you were the only thing he wanted to preserve alive.

A firm knock on the door pulled you away from the window, nearly startling you. Wondering who the visitor was, you cautiously opened the door, peeking out into the sliver of light. It wasn’t long before you were paralyzed by those glacial, golden eyes from long ago.

White hair. Shimmering horns. Black suit. Refined demeanor. It was undoubtedly him.

“It’s snowing, (Y/N). Would you like to make snowmen?”

#dislyte #dislyte long mian #dislyte x reader #dislyte long mian x reader

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iguessitsjustme · 6 months

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it looks like pit babe has broken containment because of the whole omegaverse thing and i've also seen some just...disturbing discourse floating around. i'm gonna be real honest i'm happy with my dash and i trust the people i follow 100% but if i see anyone saying shit or starting shit, i'm gonna start blocking on sight. and that goes for saying shit to me or anyone i follow. i don't have patience for it anymore and it's for the best that my feisty ass sits out any arguments cause i can and will make people cry and that goes against my whole trying to be kind thing i've got going on.

so all this to say, i will do my best (i can never make promises about this) to not join the discourse. i will post about the show the way i normally post about shows. that includes if i don't like something but i have a feeling i'll be fine with the show itself (give me a thousand more races thank you) and have issues with certain parts of the fandom. actually this goes for a few other currently airing shows as well. but i'm writing this specifically because pit babe broke containment and i saw some things in the notes because i went looking like the nosy fool i am. also to every single person that said something about "k dramas will do anything" i need you to stop for just a minute and reassess some things okay? if you're not heavily in the world of asian dramas i can understand making that assumption but i don't understand not even looking for yourself. south korea is not the only asian country and neither is japan for that matter and there is a whole world of media from so many different countries. again, not knowing that thailand has the biggest bl industry is fine. but just assuming that any asian show with a weird premise that you come across is a k drama is concerning at best. so if you're one of those people and by some weird fluke of the universe you see this, please just take a moment to think why you made that assumption.

and don't even get me started on the weird take i saw someone talking about when it came to sexual positions. granted the people i saw on tumblr talking about it were talking about how queer presentation does not equal sexual position and the folks on tumblr were fine (god bless this hellsite) but if any of that discourse spills over here, i start blocking let i go feral and absolutely ruin some people's day.

#this is about the show that broke containment and my thoughts on it #it's under a read more for a reason

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scribbledquillz · 1 year

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As promised, a little life update on me for - well mostly me, but also anyone who'd like to know where in the hell I've been.

Around when I was last here winter of 2021, the hip pain I'd had since I was pregnant with my little one - which until then had mostly just been annoying - started to become more of a problem. It became far more prominent and persistent, as well as moving up into my pelvis and lower back. Spasms, achiness, stabbing pains, lots of fun. It made basic necessities difficult, and continuing exercises other than using the treadmill (which a friend of mine graciously gave to me for free, bless her) impossible.

Fast forward through physical therapy, x rays, mris, steroid injections and a last ditch effort with acupuncture and I'm finally in a place health wise that is, while not ideal at least generally manageable. There's something going on in my SI joint compounded with 30+ years of random factors that probably made it worse that causes just. Boatloads of inflammation. Massage, acupuncture and walking keep it in check, but sadly I don't know when or if I'll be able to get back into weight lifting the way I used to. But hey I can function and I can grocery shop without spending the rest of the day in agony on the couch, so I'll gladly take it!

In that same time in a more positive lane, I did a lot of work on myself and my mental health. I took the time to try new hobbies, dabbled in a lot of creative outlets I never thought to try, and started keeping houseplants. Most of which - save a few casualties to my learning process and one poor rubber tree plant that just can't seem to catch a break - are doing great and making my house feel so much more cozy!

I also got the kick in the ass from a friend (the same one who gave me the treadmill, girl is amazing) to start an original project that I'm really excited about. I'm writing a graphic novel style comic. 😁

It's a long, LONG way from ready to share. But my prologue script is done, and I've connected with a comic artist who I've been working with to illustrate the pages. Once those are done and I've got enough of the main script drafted up, I'll be looking into getting the prologue posted / hosted, as well as a Patreon running to help finance the development of the main story. I don't want to give anything away about the plot just yet, but I will say I want to get this right. Hence the possibility of a Patreon to help fund hiring on several sensitivity readers as well as hopefully bumping up the hours I can afford to pay my illustrator to work.

So yeah - that story is my main priority and focus right now. I want to see this done and completed, because I genuinely think people will like the story I have floating around in my head and the idea of finally being able to turn writing - something I've been passionate about for as long as I remember - into more than a hobby would be AMAZING.

But that being said, I will always have love for Revka and Zevran. Their ship is what pushed me back into writing after a years long dry spell, and I want to give them their due. Not to mention I miss the idiots. ♥️

So that's it! I'll be poking away at their fics as I have time, but want to make it clear their stories will have to stay as something I do as I have spare time and energy. I most likely won't be able to do a lot of meme style writing or prompts - at least for the time being. But I'm excited and happy to be here to gush about my favorite fictional husband and share my love for whatever random fancies pop into my life with you all, and to continue seeing your lovely digital faces on my dash.

I can't wait to share my writing with you all again, and to eventually let you be some of the first folks who can check out my comic!

#personal stuff #real life shenanigans

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ask-paradox-and-friends · 11 months

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CHAPTER 13 THE HAPPINESS OF A SMILE PT2

—---------------------------------------------------------------

*Zero soon lunged with his misery ax only for Bun to kick him in the stomach which caused him to keel over and puke all the while complaining and yelling at him. The Hero just looks over and sighs.*

Bun:are you done?

*Bun was getting flashbacks to the old classmates he used to have and the people he knew. It was always the same. So much power and influence looking down on others and the second someone steps up or knocks them down a peg they cry and scream about how unfair everything was and how that deku shouldn't fight back and how he was wrong and yadayadayada.*

Zero:rrrgggggg!!!!

*the god charged turning his ax into a pair of bladed nunchucks and started swinging faster and faster as his weapon got progressively bigger shooting blades all over the arena as Bun with a stomp of his foot shot fire and manipulated the ground around him to make a large barrier to stop Zero from hurting others.*

Bun:don't! Do that!

*the Zero kept fighting as Bun Activated the quirk Foresight and started floated along with flying around dodging the attacks as soon Zerofuku weapon changed into a large spiked club and swing it hitting a flurry of feathers that shoot out at him as Bun was using his skills and analysis to get an upper hand. He soon saw Zero get so mad he turned the misery ax into a gaint weapon that sprouted several blades much bigger then even him as Bun used Fa-Jin and Blackwhip to dash to a free safe area and landed using the muscle tendons of his muscle power to soften his cannonball into the ground.*

Zero:WHY!? WHY ARE YOU NOT TAKING ME SERIOUSLY!? *he continued screaming about how he just wanted to be loved and how he tried his hardest and got punished for it.*

Bun:Zero. Get up. I think I see now. You don't really hate humans…do you?

Zero:what?

Bun:you wanted to help others to spread happiness and joy but you didn't know how to do so and just saw the darkest parts of humanity. I..I was the same. I wanted to be a hero to help others and make everyone feel safe with a smile as I just liked helping others. I put my all into it only to be beaten down by the "blessed" and "More deserving" hero candidates even though they just wanted fame money or power. I almost considered ending my pain but couldn't because of my mother. Soon I came to meet someone who trained me and gave me the chance to become a hero. I took it. It wasn't what I thought it'd be. I saw hardships. I met some who wanted to be saved and others who didn't want to be saved. I faced so much unfair bias for things I could not control or I was hated for being blessed. I lost family friends and teachers. Like you I stared to hate most people for what they represent and what they've done. I soon realized I didn't want to be a hero. I just wanted to do good and help all I could with my life. Like me you wish to be loved by those close to you but you also want nothing more then to help others.

*he soon knelt down and held put his hand planting Randgriz into the arena floor.*

Bun:come on Zero. Let's do this like real mature men. Let's work and take our frustrations out.

*Zero looked at him like he was crazy but he soon rethought his life and Bun was right…he was jealous of Buddha he was angry at himself. He wanted to help. That's all he wanted…he needed to work on himself and love himself and keep helping all he can. He wants to do this! HE NEEDS TO DO THIS!*

*Zero threw his ax away feeling no misery both of them started laughing and smiling growing happy as they punched each other. Both remembering why they wanted to do what they did. Not out of hate but out of love. Zero wanted to help and loved spreading joy and happiness and Bun loved his fellow man and wanted nothing more then to help and save all who need it.*

*after the round of punching both of them fell on their backs laughing and enjoying their company Zero was about to forfeit and help Bun up as both his horns soon came off and slithered into his heart and mouth Bun reacted and charged to help but was knocked away by two dragons that consumed Zero and became a large scaly dragon like sphere that soon broke open with a sea of blood and out came a demon who towered over Any champion of the gods or of the humans. This was the demon who destroyed half of Nefilim this was the being who'd power was too much for his body and the demon who tried to tempt buddha from enlightenment. THIS WAS HAJIN*

Hajin:*walking out of the sea of blood as the blood forms clothes of him.* Devine reputation is coming for you Mortal.

Bun:what..what the fuck? WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ZEROFUKU!?

Hajin:consumed him completely and killed that third-rate god.

#story

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magicallymeta · 1 year

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Alright, folks, I've got a slightly melted cocktail (Blue Hawaii Ramune, a few drops of orange bitters, a healthy dash of this locally made spicy pear shrub, and two shots of tequila) and episode 6 of Wednesday to get through:

1) love the circular mirror visual so much; they have a lot of fun iwht it in shots, but I still feel like they could have used it more. It reminds me of when Chloe becomes The Watchtower on Smallville and they both used the set a lot and never enough. (And yeah, I'm going to fucking mention Chloe and Smallville in 2022, okay? That show is important to me, contrary to what has become of certain people who were once involved with the show. The characters are not their actors and vice versa, unless you're Jensen Ackles/Dean Winchester. I don't make the rules!)

2) ENID IS SO FUCKING CUTE ALL OF THE TIME. GIve me her entire wardrobe. I mean, I want Wednesday's, too, but I think that's the difference in emotional expression: Rachie sees a Wednesday look and thinks "that's so stupid and cool, whatever, fuck off" and Dawni Rae sees Eni and thinks "OH MY GOD WHERE DO I GET THAT IMMEDIATELY?!" It's all about the balance, baby.

3) This surprise party for Wednesday is so fucking cute, and I love her for reacting to all things Manic Pixie Mary Sue about her in annoyance. Blessings.

4) I'm loving Jenna Ortega's balance between Wednesday and Goody. I love a good "same actress/different characters" in a story, especially when it's a "hey look, my ancestor and I happen to look almost EXACTLY the same!" Amazing.

5) The music shift when Enid gives Wednesday her snood. MY HEART. Everythning about that scene was a gift, specifcally, for me.

6) Angsty white boy scenes are so annoying, good god. I can't wait for that part to be over when I've finished.

7) Obsessed with Bianca/Lucas now. Don't know why, but I love that she immediately was honest with him and then admitted that she knew exactly who he was. I think because I've found myself liking them seperately that it means them together has a better chance for both of their character's extending throughout the story moving forward. I hate it when there are good characters just randomly floating on the sideline of the main storyline. Like, those people are where it's at, man! Don't walk away from them!

8) Ugh, more of the Well Intioned White Boy scenes are just as annoying as the Angsty White Boy scenes. it's annoying that some of Wednesday's best moments come when she's against he worst scene partners. This includes the Sheriff. Especially when she's opposite the Sheriff.

9) It's all coming together, more or less, and I'm so excited for it to finish. The fireplace in the Principal's office is so fucking sick, and again, I love Christina Ricci.

10) "Take the win Enid" "Two Best Friends!" I'm so in love with them, be still my little heart.

11) Wednesday is like, "For my birthday, I want a bisexual creepy date with my boy/girl love interests to who is more deserving of my affections." The answer is Enid across the board, but it's cute that Tyler is still sticking in the game for hetero storylines.

12) I love that the "pretty" boys get "sexy scar scratches" and the other boys get mutilated in some way. Seems about right. Very CW.

13) Enid blowing up and leaving her pastel side of the room to haunt Wednesday while she curls up in a ball. WENESDAY. GIRL. Shatter my heart. I feel so alive.

If I wasn't so set on following through on writing up my thoughts on every episode, I would have for sure finished by now, but I'm proud of myself for following through on this. It's like, every little step leads to a bigger things at some point, even if some of it you have to slog through.

On a side note, I was really excited to have the house to myself this weekend and to get so many of the things I'm constantly trying to get done, done, and I've been putting in a lot of work, but it doesn't feel like I've accomplished as much as I was hoping to. It allows the voice in my brain that tells me if my dreams were important I would be doing this all of the time, but I'm not because it must not be. I hate that voice, because it sounds like very Boss Bitch and Capitalist Christian that's ever made me feel like I'm broken or lazy for not being able to "hit the grind" or whatever the fuck.

I keep wanting to stop writing these post and just enjoy the show. It's an argument I'm constantly having inside my head -- do I want to enjoy and consume, or do I want to consume and create? These are entirely different ways to do things, but they're both equally important and I struggle to find the balance between them or when to initiate which roll when I'm dealt a circumstance of life. I share this hear because it's on my mind and I want to and it's my blog and I can do what I want, but also because this is what it's become for me for awhile -- where do I put my time and how do I use it? I constantly feel as if my time is not my own, and all I want is to get it back.

Okay, I only have 2 episodes left of this show and then I can go to sleep. I doubt I'll get through both of them tonight, I can feel myself waning (see above philosophies), but I'll set alarms and finish it in the morning with my coffee. I won't have the house to myself for very long, but I bet I could get through this and then move into my mirror project, which was the one thing I wanted to have completed by the time this weekend was offically over. Depending on my schedule this week, maybe I'll take Monday off and give myself an extra weekend day to finsh up everything on my list! Wish me luck, friends!

#magically meta thoughts #magically meta #wednesday

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cesswords · 2 years

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Void and Metal Episode 1: The Deviant Prisoner

Examinor Tzomas Gauge stares out of the massive bow window of The Deviant, where he’s currently being held prisoner. He sees nothing, and Nothing sees him. He doesn’t feel like a prisoner. Doesn’t look like one. Isn’t treated like one either. Really, he’s only legally a prisoner, as the Neotholic Church-State recorded him as “Missing - Kidnapped: Pirates” several months ago. Now, the NCS is famous for their dedication to reclaiming lost members of their flock. As long as a kidnapped cleric had been in good standing, had above average credit, and could afford to pay the Church back for any necessary ransom or lost materials with money or service, then they had no reason to worry. The ransom would be paid.

As an Examinor, Gauge can meet all these conditions with ease. In fact - the Church-State is desperate for his return, and would probably waive the usual 2.5% ransom processing fee if he asked Xeryl in accounting nicely enough (and he always has). So, why then, is Gauge still on this pirate ship, floating seemingly without aim through the openness of space? He sips his Martian Coffee - still hot after sitting in the mug for hours - and ponders this himself.

“What in the fuck am I doing here?” And the words move out of his brain and onto his clerical collar. The red neon letters march across his neck, and he reads them backwards in the reflection of the window. His eyes focus on the reflection, on the Something over the Nothing, and he can see how little he’s aged in his months aboard this ship.

“Perhaps that’s why.” New words across his collar. That’ll have to be fixed. His mind is far too loose these days.

A knock at his door before it opens. The Quartermaster of the vessel - Holliand e’Bravo, peeks in cautiously.

“Uh, Father?”

Gauge takes another sip. The caffinoids buzz in his brain. Synthetic coffee is better than the “real” stuff, and he’d die on that wave if he had to.

The Quartermaster takes a step in and continues. After all, e’shouldn’t need permission. Gauge is’er prisoner, right?

“We’ve spotted a cargo ship. It’s got Earthmark. It should have an escort, but looks like they got separated. The crew and the captains would like to engage.”

Gauge sighs. These greedy pirates don’t know what’s good for them. Over his shoulder he quotes the Revolutionary Psalms.

“‘Our hold overflows and still we starve. We cannot eat gold. We must eat Mars.”

Holliad clears their throat in such a way as to indicate - “What in voidfuck does that mean?” Gauge understands, and finally turns around to face the Quartermaster and answer.

“You’ve taken three prizes on this Out already. I doubt you even have the room for whatever treasures may or may not be on that vessel. Why not get back to Mars as planned, and live to spend your riches?”

The Quartermaster pauses, even though e’knows exactly why. E’can only hope the gaunt, serious, religious man in front of’er will understand the answer.

“It’s coming from the Kam.”

And Gauge does understand. He quickly thanks God for such an expedient answer to his earlier question, and covers his collar to hide the thoughts. Holliand pretends not to see such blasphemy - even an Examinor could be hanged for that.

“Well, then. It’s not as though you need my permission, is it?”

“No…But, your blessing.”

Gauge laughs and tosses his mug to the side. The ship receives it before it can crash, quickly sanitizes it, and places it on the dash for tomorrow. The poor Ship expects routine, doesn’t quite understand what it’s used for or why. Gauge quotes his favorite book of the Bible: The New Gospel According to the New John, with his arms wide open in holy celebration.

“The Universe is your inheritance, human! Seize it, lest it waste away unexamined, and unused!”

The Quartermaster nods with excitement, and dashes back into the hallway to deliver the news: “The Prisoner agrees! The Prisoner has blessed the attack!” with only a tiny percentage of an idea of just how important this ship will be. Not just to the pirates of The Deviant, but to the future of the Known Universe.

#pirates #space pirates #writers on tumblr #writing #stories #oc #sci fi writing #serial story #wip

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inkedtae · 3 years

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a lover’s howl ⇾ kth. [M]

⟶ inspired by Howl’s Moving Castle and part of The Ghibli Series

⌁ pairing; howl!taehyung x reader (f.)

⌁ genre/rating; studio ghibli au, howl’s moving castle au, smut, a dash of fluff, a bit of angst, 18+

⌁ summary; an unforsaken spell blesses you with his presence again

⌁ word count; 4.1k

⌁ warnings; howl!taehyung, blonde!taehyung, bigdicc!taehyung, dom!taehyung, sub!reader, unprotected sex, rough sex, praise kink, dirty talk, oral (f. receiving), fingering, body worshipping, basically a moving amount of filth~

⚘ happy birthday juno ♡ (@onherwings)~

⚘ a huge thanks to my beta readers, @kkulmoon, @nottodayjjk and @uhgood-dooghu, for taking the time to read this over and fix it up for me. it means a lot and i don’t think i will ever be able to thank you enough. also a special thanks @yeoldontknow for letting me talk at her, giving me ideas and always supporting me. I owe this fic being finished on time to you.

The rumble of the train trembles the walls of your workshop. Black fumes cloud the moonlight. Your candles flicker atop your desk, threatening to diminish and leave you sewing in the dark. Weaving feathers in and out of a black hat, you’re too preoccupied with thoughts of him to be fazed by the sound. He writes often, enclosing a black feather with every letter, but doesn’t visit as much. You’re not sure what of this “important business” is so dangerous that you can’t come along as well. You have survived much worse, witnessed his near death and helped him rebuild his castle afterall. And though you told yourself countless times that there’s no good dwelling on the past, you can’t seem to stop wondering what exactly changed his mind.

A prick of your thumb stings you out of your thoughts. In a jolt, you drop the needle and hat to shoot out of your seat with a hiss. You lick the wound before it bleeds then press your fingertip upon it. You hope the pressure subsides the wound long enough for you to fetch a bandage from the first aid kit.

Now, where did Taehyung say it was? Something about a library... or was it a living room? You make your way up to the attic, hoping he did in fact mention the library. All you can really remember from that conversation was how handsome he looked in that pink coat you stitched up for him. It just frames his broad shoulder so well only to narrow around his thin waist. And then there was that knowing look in his eyes that told you he knew just how much you weren’t listening at all.

“Baby,” he had whispered, cupping your chin. “Are you listening?” And once you had found the mental capacity to resist the urge to kiss him and slowly nod, he had smirked and repeated, “The kit is in-”

The library flickers to life when you enter. Dust settles upon every inch and you begin to wonder why he had forbade you from entering before as you scan the shelves for the kit. Leather bound books and tightly rolled scrolls reside on every surface. Trinkets of his journey clutter around as well. You had thought you talked to him about the importance of organization, but it seems that he prefers this mess best.

Your attention settles on the desk, sitting in front of a large window. Presuming it’s probably in one of the desk drawers, you make your way over with the intention of rifling through them and nothing more. You’ve learned from past experience that it’s best to never tinker with his things. However, once you stand before it, a red, leather bound book catches your eye. The imprinted title is written in an unreadable script and seems to be floating off the cover. How could that dance off the surface like that? Against your better judgement, curiosity hovers your fingers over the font.

Slamming open, the book flips and flicks through various pages only to suddenly stop. Rose coloured font apperates into view in that unreadable script again. You furrow your brows, attempting to read it anyways, until the strokes of ink shift around the pages. They rearrange themselves into a script you can decipher.

A Lover’s Howl.

Yearning of heart and

Tethers of soul.

I wish to end my misery

And the distance apart

Together unruly and-

The tremors of the train erupt every wall of the attic, pulling you out of your thoughts. Startled, you glance out the window to find that it is not the train at all you owe this rukkus to, but the upset clouds. Flashes of lightning burn the sky alight as rain beats down the busy street.

You turn back to the desk and shut the book. That’s enough snooping for a night. You still have that first aid kit to find. Rummage through the drawers, you finally find a little tin of bandages under a box of rose and emerald ink pots. Teeth between the thin paper, you rip open the little bandage and wrap it around your thumb. However, it seems like once one wound is taken care of, another flames.

Aching, your heart sits heavy in your chest. You take a deep breath, hands too shaky to return the kit back beneath the ink pots. The action seems to push the numb pain to your gut. A little whimper escapes you. You lean on the edge of the desk, inhaling sharply. You’re still breathing, you try to remind yourself. And that should be a comforting fact if your pussy didn’t begin aching as well. With a shaky gasp, you press your thighs together and wonder why the thought of being bent over this very desk seems to be unfathomably appealing right now.

Your fingers hover over the pearl buttons of your dress; it suddenly seems awfully tight in this hot room. Wait- when did the room get so ho- “Agh,” you whine as another pang of pain makes you needier.

The newfound heat suffocates skin, hands moving fast to push that blue dress off your shoulders. It doesn’t hit the ground before you start to discard your bra and panties as well. Still, your body burns with a desire to be overtaken. It’s as if you’ve been edged all day, left half finished and ready to finally unravel. Desperate to feel just that, you slide a hand down to your aching pussy. It clenches emptily, yearning for Taehyung's huge cock. God, it’s been too long since he last stretched you out. Nothing can ever quite compare to his size, your fingers and vibrator a weak excuse for anything besides clitoral pleasure.

Rubbing at your clit, you try to soothe the craving for him now. However, the pain only seems to intensify. It’s as if your body knows it’s not your own hand you crave, but Taehyung’s. And where is he now to graze your folds between his fingers and tease with little praises? You can just see him peeking up from between your legs, tongue poking out of his lips and breath fanning over your heat. And you’d push yourself up into him. So, he’d smirk and chuckle, and tell you to be patient or he won’t do anything at all. You can even hear him now, taunting at your desperate, half-naked state in the very section of the house he told you to never enter.

“What did I say about looking through my things?”

Hand cupping your heat, your attention snaps to the door. Taehyung leans against the doorframe, the candlelight sculpting his features sharply. His name leaves you in a whisper as you begin to wonder how desperate you are to have resorted to hallucinations? Maybe you should really call him if your mind’s gone this far. But, as you attempt to move around the desk, another shot of pain holds you back. You gasp a quiet cry and harshly rub circles around your clit.

Concern colours Taehyung’s features. “Sweetheart,” he calls, rushing over to you. You’re about to pride your mind on such a vivid and accurate imagination when you feel his large hands settle on your arms. Soft and cold, he holds you tight and guides your hunched over frame onto the desk. Shrugging his coat off, he drapes it over your shoulders and asks, “What’ve you done to yourself?”

“You’re here?”

“I’m here,” he smiles.

A breathless chuckle bubbles out of you as your hands wrap around his neck. Your arousal slicked hands stain his shirt, but he doesn’t seem to mind, pulling you into a tighter hug. “You shouldn’t have come in here,” he mutters between peppering little kisses in the crook of your neck.

His vanilla cedar scent coddles your heart and aches your bones. You whimper into his shoulder at how quickly the pain intensifies from a single whiff. Taehyung pulls half an inch away, concerned and confused. With his forehead resting against yours, he licks his lips and you can’t think of a better use for that tongue if not to lick at your pussy. The pain shoots at you again just as your thoughts become interesting. You swallow your whimpers as he brushes your hair out of your face.

His gaze falls to your bare chest before lingering around your pussy. Suddenly aware of your nakedness, you shyly press your thighs together. Every inch of you just wants to beg him for his cock already, no matter if you're bent on his desk or pressed against the window. You just need him on you, in you, touching every part of you.

The courage to ask for what you want finally presents itself when he shifts his gaze to something behind you. You sneak a glance over your shoulder to find that open book. A little sigh escapes him and he returns his attention to you with a little smirk. “You missed me this much,” he teases, caressing your cheek, “that you just had to cast a mating spell, hmm?”

Is that what that was? You weren’t even sure you could read it before it rearranged. You’re about to apologize when the pain cinches your words in your throat. Doubling over, you rest your head against his shoulder and whine, “Ah, Tae!”

He wraps his arms around you, further engulfing you in his scent and you don’t think you can take much more of this. Whatever this mating spell is, you’re sure it’s not supposed to be tearing you apart. Clutching on the collar of his shirt, you mumble, “I need you, Tae. I need your mouth and fingers and- I just need you so bad.”

You wish you can say you hate the way his eyes glisten with power. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he knew exactly how you were feeling and was just waiting for you to say it. He’s told you before that the sight of you so needy always awakes something dark within him. He loves to watch you whine and quiver.

His hold on your face tightens as his fingers dig into your skin. You swallow thickly, another whine escaping from the mere thought of those fingers deep in you. He licks his lips before asking, “What do you need me to do so bad, sweetheart?”

He trails his fingers down your neck, past your collarbone and the valley of your breasts; waiting, watching. When all you can muster is his name in a little mewl, he whispers, peppermint breath fanning over your face, “Do you want to start on your knees?”

“Anything,” you gasp, tugging on his shirt. You just need him close, need him now. “We can do it anyway you want, just please fuck me already.”

Surprise alights his eyes for a moment. Never have you spoken this crassly, without his cock already deep in you that is. He chuckles, on the verge of teasing you about it when another pained whimper escapes you. Taehyung settles his large hands on your thighs. Leaning in, he brushes his nose against yours then places a soft kiss upon the corner of your lips. “I know it hurts, sweetheart, but I can’t do much if you don’t tell me exactly what you want.”

You pause for a moment, wondering how much clearer you could be. Usually, a declaration to be riled is enough to set him off. You’re never the one guiding him as he always insists on guiding you. He says it's because he loves how obedient you suddenly become when his dick is involved. And though you have tried to fight him on it in the past, there’s not much you can deny now. So, you bite back a whine until you have enough strength to order just above a whisper, “I need your mouth, Tae. You’re fingers too. Honestly, anything will do just as long as you're tasting me.”

He bites back a chuckle as he lowers himself to his knees. Spreading your legs, he urges you to lean back a bit. The gesture pushes a variety of books and pens to the floor. Neither of you can be too bothered, however, with his face inches away from your pussy.

Holding your gaze, Taehyung dives in. You expect him to lick a long strip up your pussy to start, as he always does, only to have him suction his lips around your clit. Either way, you’re sure the pain withers away. A relieved gasp echoes in the small room as you throw your head back. You can barely even feel the previous ache when he releases your clit to lap up your wetness. All you can focus on is how you missed his warm tongue.

“Oh fuck, just like that,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut. Your hips roll up to meet his tongue, body craving more of him.

“Keep talking to me, baby,” he mutters around a mouthful of pussy. “How fast do you want it?”

You run a hand through his hair and hold on tight. “Fast!” Taehyung groans against you, making your heart flutter enough for you to forget what more you wanted to say. Until a small ache pokes at your gut again. With a whine, you reply, “I need your fingers. I need you to shove them in me and lick me and make me cum. Fuck, Tae, just please make me cum.”

Taehyung circles two fingers around your tight, little hole, muttering, “About time you remembered your manners.”

Not much strength lives in you to tell him that you’ll remember your manners when he finally lets you come along with him to whatever “important business” that’s taken him this long. And even if you could speak, all you can really think about is how you missed his fucking fingers. So long and slender, they slide into you so far and curl just right.The pain dissipates and you throw your head back with a loud moan. You’re not sure what this spell was, but you’re thankful for it if it means bringing Taehyung back home.

You attempt to ride his face again only to have him remove his lips. He smirks up at you, amused gaze peeking through his blonde bangs. His fingers quicken and bash just where you need them.

“Taehyung,” you sigh. Voice breathless, strained with the return of that painful, greedy desire to unravel, you whine, “I need your mouth.”

He chuckles. You shudder. Has he been gone so long that you’ve genuinely forgotten just how much you adored that laugh? You’ve never been able to process the duality of it, the cheerful tone sounding so deep and dark.

“And what do you want me to do about that?”

Oh, right. The spell. It only seems to let him follow your orders. You make a mental note to tease him about it later, the gnawing ache of your gut begging to be eased. Still, under your breath, you mumble, “Must I hold your hand through this?”

Taehyung clenches his jaw. His eyes blink cold, hard and darken into vexation. If he could, he’d smack your pussy, bend you over for a spanking only to edge you thrice before finally letting you cum. At least, that’s what he did the last time you talked back. Instead, he resorts to glares and little reminders to “behave” since “the spell will break before the night is over.”

You shiver with every moan as you sit up. A few more scrolls roll to the ground from the shift of your position, but you pay them no mind. As the thunder roars beyond the little library, you cup Taehyung’s wet smeared chin and guide him back onto his feet.

“All I can ever think about,” you start, attempting to speak through your moans, “is all the time lost not getting fucked in that moving castle.”

“It’s d-”

“Dangerous,” you finish. “More dangerous than a mating spell? Than this stupid libr- fuck, I think I’m close.” You fall forward to rest your head against his shoulders. Taehyung scoffs and you don’t need to glance at his handsome face to know he’s smirking. You can hear it.

Hand shooting to his wrist, you stop his fingers mid-thrust. The spell’s pain lingers around your pussy, tightening your walls around him. It threatens its return as your orgasm slowly disappears. He whispers your name, but you only meet his gaze when you’ve bitten every needy whine back long enough to say, “I just want you to fuck me like you want me.”

“What makes you think I don’t want you?”

A little whine slips past your lips. Taehyung’s expression softens and he shifts in place, likely feeling helpless when you don’t allow him to ease the ache. “You left, Tae,” you sigh. “You left me here. I want you to fuck me like you never did. I want you to replace your fingers with your cock and touch me like you love me.”

Taehyung pauses. “You think I don’t love you?”

Though the answer is on the tip of your tongue, you know better than to tell him it now. Taehyung is no fun to fuck when he’s genuinealy upset. And if you are going to be rid of this unforsaken curse, you know that you’ll need to keep the rest of your thoughts to yourself. So you let go of his wrist and the spell compels his actions once more.

Taehyung removes his fingers then rids himself of his clothes. You can’t seem to keep your hands from wandering over his chest and clutching onto his shoulders. He smiles at you and, though it’s small, that smile of his makes you wonder if perhaps you’ve ruined the entire mood and now he’ll only fuck you because he wants simply to help.

Then he seizes your hips. You’re pulled forward until the length of his cock presses between your folds. He strokes his nose along your cheek, wet lips whispering, “I think the real issue is how you have trouble following orders.” Rolling his hips against yours, Taehyung groans into the crook of your neck. “It looks like I have to show you how it’s done.”

You lose your fingers in his hair, clutching onto his bicep with your other hand. You missed how much he loved to tease. Lips biting into your collarbone, Taehyung reaches a hand between your bodies to align himself. A gentle push in and you’re exchanging praises. He’s definitely been gone too long if you’ve forgotten just how big he is. His mere tip stretches you enough to lose all words, incoherent affirmations taking their place instead. Eyes rolling back, you thrust up to try meeting his hips halfway, but Taehyung grounds you in place.

A specific speed never left your lips and you just now realized that fast is in fact Taehyung’s default setting when it comes to fucking you into submission. All the pain you thought was returning feels as though it never arrived at all. You’re about to tell him to thrust harder when he clutches onto your neck.

He stares into your desperate eyes, his own looking needier than usual - a fact he has never enjoyed admitting. “Do you know how many times I almost used this fucking spell?” he hisses as his thrusts become harsher. “Every night, I stare at that fucking page and think about how pretty you’d look when you’re full of my cock.” He growls a curse under his breath. The hand around your neck tightens just to let go. As it trails down your body to cup one of your bouncing breasts, he groans, “You look even more beautiful when you’re desperate for it. Did you know that?”

You let out a shaky moan. Hands sweaty, you try to maintain your grip on his shoulders as he plays with your body like a passtime. He thumbs your nipple, gazing down at how you arch your back and push yourself further against him. Breathless from the sheer sight, he picks up his pace. The desk scratches at the floor with every thrust. Your moans drown its sharp creaks as Taehyung buries his face between your breasts. Licking and biting, he feasts on you like he never left, like he does this every night and still can’t believe he has you.

Cradling his head closer, you feel that once painful ache in your gut tighten, twist and slowly begin to beg for a chance to release. And you know he can feel you inching closer as well, little praises pouring out of him between his appreciation of your chest.

“That’s my girl,” he rasps. “Taking my cock so well.”

True, you’re annoyed it took a fucking spell to bring him back, but you’d be lying if his insistence of you being such a good girl didn’t just replace all your anger with affection. “Taehyung!” you cry.

You’re about to ask for permission when you recall the fickle detail that you are the one calling the shots this time. Even still, you try to subside your urge to cum long enough to ask, “I-it’s okay to cum, right?”

Taehyung laughs against your skin. He trails quick kisses back up to your lips, only to mutter moments later, much to your constant whining, “You don’t need to ask this time, sweetheart.”

Like being doused with cold water, you allow yourself to come undone. Fingers digging into his skin, eyes rolling back, you scream out his name over and over again with the rhythm of his hips. Every new thrust adds to the quaking of your body. It breaks in your voice as you cry out for him.

“Does that feel better?” he teases, voice husky and strained. If that isn’t enough indication that he’s close, the little twitch of his cock gives it away. “Is my dick enough or do you want me to cum too?”

Nails imprinting into his skin, you try to meet his gaze. “If you don’t cum in me right now,” you start, breathless and desperate, “I swear I’ll cry.”

Taehyung nudges his nose against yours before pressing his lips to yours. He lets you swallow all his moans as he pulls you close by your ass and holds you tight. Then, he bites your lip and fills you until you’re stuffed with more than just his giant cock.

A few more rushed kisses and sloppy thrusts are offered before Taehyung ceases all movement. He rests his head on your shoulder, fingers still sunk into the curves of your ass. Sweaty, heaving exhaustion overwhelms your senses. Pussy pulsing, you find that the longer Taehyung remains in you, the more twinges of that pain return. You know you should tell him that, only you’re worried that he’d go the moment he pulls out. He has served the purpose of the spell after all.

Taehyung stands straighter now that his breath has returned to him. He shifts his hands from your ass to your hips and gently pulls out. A hiss escapes him. You feel empty all over again.

Crossing your legs, you softly push his hands off your hips. It might just be best to make this easier on both of you, you wonder, and give him a chance to go. Maybe that way it won’t feel as though he’s abandoning you.

“I guess you have to get back then,” you say as you hop off the desk.

You both know he can sense your discomfort. “I can stay for a little while.”

Grabbing your dress off the ground, you ignore the emotion in his words. “Lucky me,” you mutter, turning back to find him inches away.

Eyes locked, Taehyung maintains his sincerity. He tentatively wraps his arms around your waist and, when you don’t interject, presses you against his chest. “I’m- I-” he stutters for a moment before the words come together once more. “I thought leaving alone would be the safest. I didn’t think it would take this long.”

You shake your head. He’s missing the point. It shouldn’t take a spell to compel him to return. He shouldn’t have left you alone. “It shouldn’t matter how long it takes. I should always be there.”

Taehyung falls silent. Guilt flashes in his eyes as he reverts them to the floor. Swallowing thickly, he meets your gaze again to mutter, “I just can’t risk losing you again.”

“Then don’t leave me alone,” you whisper.

Taehyung pulls you into a warm hug. A tearful apology is mumbled into your shoulder. You’re not very interested in it though. All you want is him; with or without a lover’s howl.

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#bangtansorciere #bangtanhq #networkbangtan #taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #kim taehyung angst #taehyung ghibli au

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bonny-kookoo · 3 years

Text

Sing to me: JJK x Reader 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mermaid AU, Siren!Jungkook, Prince!Jungkook, homeless!Reader, Romance, Smut duh

Wordcount: 5k (medium)

Tags/Warnings: okay so, spoiled kook, possessive kook, Theres literally an attempted murder lol, drowning? whoops, blood oh no, reader is hella fucking dense ok, biting, courting lol, fish boy is in love, whoops, anyways we got sexy times too, because in this AU fishboy got legs n all of that hah, unprotected sex because, guys pls this ain't supposed to he realistic, wrap it before you tap it folks, its also not all that filthy lol, blink and you'll miss the scene, honestly I didn't include much smut because yall nasty so you will ask for dirty drabbles anyways, not that I mind lol, k I'm done I think, wow mom I've sinned less than usual..

Summary: Help me love myself, and I might learn to love you as well.

Or alternatively: you save Jungkook from being killed, and he totally gets the wrong signals. But he's cute, so its fine. Probably.

Jungkook is floating.

He thinks about what lies above the waves, and cant think of anything he really finds interesting. The surface is littered in junk, in things humans leave behind without thinking twice about it. It's air is thick and stuffy, hard to breathe and never clear at all. It's crowded, with creatures who at the end of the day all look the same in his eyes. There's nothing exciting about the world people walk on.

Its boring, and dirty.

His own home is, compared to that, a kingdom radiating like the moon itself. It shines and sparkles, and harbors some of the most beautiful creatures ever to be found. He and his family, as well as everyone else, live in peace with nature down underneath the waves, existing side by side instead of trying to gain the upper hand all the time.

And he's reminded of the cruelty of man, when he finds himself caught in a net.

He's somehow made the fishermen drop it instead of pulling him up on their boat. But that doesn't mean he's free- he's still struggling with it, fighting it, but he cant rip it apart. All he does really, is tie the knots tighter, have them dig into his skin until spots are rubbed raw. He can't really swim anywhere at this point, gives up as he can see the last lights of his distant home fade into the distance.

Jungkook is floating.

He's slowly being led by the waves, by the love of wind and waters, as he closes his eyes. Its a pity, really; for a prince held so high to die by the mere hands of the poor, he thinks. It's upsetting him, very much so, but he takes it as it is. There's nothing he can do anyways, as he slowly comes into contact with the sand below. It washes him up onto short, the dry sand sticking to his body, waves pushing him higher and higher onto the ground.

He shivers, the cold outside air biting at his skin now unsheltered and defenseless.

He doesn't know how long he lays there.

But at some point, steps are heard on the sand. He keeps his eyes closed, doesn't care about what will happen next- he really just wants to have it be over by now, the ropes already painfully burning his skin at certain spots. He's sure theres sand in his wounds as something touches him- warm fingers, hesitant, and almost shy.

He keeps his eyes closed.

"My god, I hate humans.." You mutter under your breath, your voice hitting his ears, making him notice the way it sounds. He thinks it sounds very similar to some of his kind; sirens being blessed with voices sweet and enchanting. Maybe you were one of the strays who had decided to live on the surface for some reason? But your smell was entirely human, although much sweeter and pleasant than anyone he'd met before. And then, after a small short moment of pain-

He's free.

His arms flop to his side, and he breathes in deeply- finally able to fully move again. His eyes open, and adjust to the night for a moment, before they meet yours.

How interesting.

"Jungkook?" Jimin asks him, curious to what has gotten the young Siren so occupied. Typically, Jungkook would be watching the annual kingdom dances with at least some form of interest; even if it was just a glimpse of it, just to make his parents worry less about him misbehaving. But today, as the graceful dancers move around to the orchestra playing, the young prince is absolutely not there. At least not mentally. "Jungkook." The older one scolds, getting Jungkooks attention- his gaze hard and annoyed. "Please, young prince- at least try to pretend you're interested. This is after all part of our culture." He strategically uses his title as teasing- something which makes Jungkook snort without any fun.

"I really don't want to be here." He explains, and Jimin sighs. "I'd rather be at the surface.." He mumbles, being careful not to be too loud- but Jimin does pick it up, and so does his partner, Taehyung, next to him- now leaning a bit forward to hear better.

"Oh?" Jimin asks. "What could be of interest there, I wonder?" He teases, and Jungkook grows even more irritated.

"Nothing that should interest a whore like you." He says harshly, though Jimin knows he means no harm with it. Jimin is, after all, a man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life- which is why he can't quite grasp why Jungkook, a young man in his prime like himself, doesn't seem to care about whats going on around him.

"Hm, but I think she must be absolutely divine if you're willing to risk the wrath of your own mother just to see her." He says, and Taehyung snickers next to him, clearly amused.

But to both of their surprise, Jungkook grows.. calm. Theres even a glimpse of a smile on his lip as he rests his head on his head, elbow on the armrest of his throne. "That she is." He says, quietly, as he watches the young woman in front of him. He has to imagine you there instead, moving oh so gracefully to the sounds of his Kingdom's greatest musicians- dressed in the most beautiful gown he'd gift you. "That she is.." He repeats, a dreaming look on his face that Jimin has not seen before.

Jungkook watches you.

He enjoys watching you on your daily trips to the beach, picking up cans and bottles, and other things people throw away without care. You're cleaning up the beach, and he thinks its a very good behavior- he likes the way you always carefully scan the ground and sides for any garbage. He swims a little closer as he spots you squatting down; eyes lighting up as you pick up a shell he'd personally not care much for. It's slightly pink- but nothing he hasn't seen in his life. They're so common, and he suddenly thinks that if this already makes you happy, what if he was to bring you something else? Something better, something more worth your attention?

He feels a rush of excitement.

Dashing into the opposite direction, he makes his way towards the ground below, eyes scanning the ground as he searches for something. He spots it after a few minutes of searching, but when he holds the pearl, he hesitates.

Its not enough.

No, that's not what you should get. He's only paying back his dept, yeah, that's what he's doing. But what if he was overdoing it by bringing you something too expensive or rare? No, he should be smart about it, yeah. Start small, and work your way up he thinks, as he takes the pearls he's collected while deep in thought, and pushes himself back to the top, swimming easily. He hopes you're still there-

And there you are, dipping your feet into the water.

He looks at what he can see; only able to see clearly underneath the waves rather than above. There's a bracelet hanging around your ankle, and it looks cheap, he thinks. It only helps him by giving him ideas for his next gifts- if you would accept his first, that is. He's never been rejected before, but then again, has always rejected instead. Nothing had interested him to the extend you did. Maybe you really were of his kind, secretly.

When he slowly brings his head up the waves, you don't get scared, or flinch. You simply look, spot him, and smile.

He likes that expression.

He comes closer, free hand helping him onto the stone you sit on, his hand holding your gift eagerly pushing against yours. You understand quickly, and open them, and he smiles. You're smart, he notes, and it only adds to your qualities, he thinks. Dropping the pearls, your eyes sparkle again- as they should, he thinks with pride. You inspect them with big eyes, as if you've never seen something alike. He enjoys your reaction- and you nod at him. "Thank you- are they for me to keep?" You ask, pointing to them, and then at your chest. He's not fully fluent in human language, but has picked up on some words and phrases, since Seokjin had recently strayed- teaching him some stuff whenever he got bored and visited his younger brother.

So Jungkook nods. "You." He says, and you like the sound of his voice; fittingly just as handsome as the rest of him, you think. But then again- his kind is known for its beauty and enchanting voices. "Keep." He tells you, pushing your closed palm a bit closer to your body as if to underline his statement. You think its cute, in a way.

"Okay." You say. "I'll keep them-?" You ask, and he doesn't understand, until you point to yourself, and say a name- yours, he supposes.

"Ah-" He starts, pointing to himself. "Jungkook. Jeon, Jungkook." He tells you, and you nod, smiling.

"It's nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook." You smile, and he grins back, slightly sharpened canines in stark contrast with his bunny-like smile.

He thinks its nice to meet you too.

"But you're a witch, aren't you?" Jungkook argues, staring at Taehyung. "I thought you were all so capable." He challenges, and Taehyungs eyes darken- quite literally, since sea witches do technically have black eyes- but conceal them, as to not scare off people. He regains his composure however when Jimins hand lays on his shoulder.

"Now now, no need to become huffy." He says. "He didn't say he can't do it- he simply told you that its not that easy." He explains, and Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes. Ever the spoiled prince, they think to themselves.

"I don't care about that." He states. "Can you do it, or can you not?" He asks, and Taehyung thinks for a moment.

"I.." He begins, before he sighs. "I can. But, there's a catch, Jungkook." He tells him, and this time, the youngest of the group seems just as serious as he listens. "I can't promise that.. the result will be what you will expect." He says.

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks.

"There's a chance she won't survive it."

He doesn't think much about why you're so often sitting on that rocky structure close to the deep- he likes not having to get out of the water to be close to you. And you think, Jungkook is quite the interesting being.

He’s curious; that much you can tell. His hands rest on your knees, your toes sometimes brushing against his abdomen as he swims closer- face coming forward to properly look at you. His vision must be bad outside of the waters you assume, his brown eyes squinting in concentration until he huffs and let’s himself back into the waters. You chuckle, and simply take off your jacket, slipping into the water as well as you control your breath- his entire face brightening at your body now underwater in his world, finally clear to see for his eyes.

You’re pretty, he thinks, definitely prettier than any other human he’d encountered before. The clothes covering your breasts and private parts a bit dull and boring for his taste- but he’d change that soon. He smiles, happy, before holding up his finger as if to signal for you to wait before he swims away, elegantly and fast. You swim up to breath some air, catch your breath, until there’s a hand around your calf, holding, fingers running over the skin, signaling you to come down again. You follow his question, taking a deep breath to meet him underneath the surface; his excited hands wrapping something around your neck, before he swims in circles as if he’s suddenly got too much energy. You point to yourself, as if to ask if you can keep it- and he nods, wide eyes watching you with a smile that you can’t help but mirror.

You don't quite realize what he's doing.

He however thinks you know. You know that he's courting you, and you're interested in him. You know that he's just given you more than a simple gift. He only believes you're letting him work for it- something he happily does, taking on the challenge as always. He swims closer, holds your shoulders, as his eyes look into yours, his gaze happy and child-like almost. He's close to finally showing you affection- but you suddenly swim to the surface instead.

And even though he knows you only wanted to breathe, he can't help but feel slightly sour at the ruined moment.

"You're awfully happy these days." His mother says, watching her son in the gardens of the palace. "May I ask what has gotten you in such a bright mood?" She asks, and Jungkook doesn't quite know how to break it to her. He knows its not forbidden, knows it has, and does, happen each and every day it seems- but there's still fear inside of him. Theres still hesitation, even though he is not ashamed of what has happened- of what he has done. His mother however notices. "You know you can trust me, right?" She says, and he nods.

Its now or never.

"I've found a mate." He says, and his mother smiles warmly, holding his cheek as she kisses it in congratulation. "Its a human." He says, quietly, hurried- but his mother continues to smile.

"I have suspected as much." She states. "Your friend- Park Jimin- is not very good at talking quietly." She snickers, and Jungkook curses under his breath about how he wants to strangle him. Theres a huge weight lifted off of him however; finally having said it, made it very real to him, in a way- even though it was already.

Because, after all; you were wearing his kingdom's sigil around your neck already. He had claimed you.

He's restless the next time he swims to the shore to meet you again- eager to see you to give you the news of his family's acceptance.

You're late- later than usual, and his brows are furrowed, mood upset at your mannerism. You're usually always on time, always just as eager to see him he thinks- but this time, you're not there. After his anger however, he grows increasingly worried instead. What if something had happened to you instead? Oh what a bad person he would be to be mad at you for getting into an unfortunate situation. As guilt slowly makes his way into his body, claims his muscles, he moves to sit on the stone he usually finds you on. He tries to look around- rain on his skin making it possible to be out way more comfortably.

He spots movement above.

Theres a person he can't make out- throwing something off the cliff down into the sea, and Jungkook clicks his tongue in anger, already upset- but still curious on what it was the person had been so eager to discard. Typically, its tiny things or plastic he finds- but this is something else, he knows.

Underwater, he smells blood.

His pupils contract, eyes widening, as he spots the black bag slowly making its way to the bottom of the sea- red trail leading from it. Its not the blood however that makes him frantic- its the smell of it, of you, that stops his heart.

He gets you out the bag, his anger over the entire situation diminishing into nothing as he holds you close, eyes spotting the deep cut on your side, and the scratches on your face. Unsure where to bring you, he holds you close, brings you onto his back as one of his hands hold yours, your arms around his neck. He swims quickly to the only place he knows you can breathe.

The underwater cave is big enough for now, he thinks, as he brings your body onto the ground, out the water. He doesn't notice he's crying, doesn't quite speak, his native language of clicking sounds and little noises escaping him as he whines out for your attention, waiting for you to wake up somehow. He's been so invested in making you like him and accept him that he's got no idea what to do with a human. Are you cold? How can he warm you up? How does he stop bleeding wounds? How much can you bleed before you die? Are you already dying?

Jungkook doesn't know what to do. So he simply lays by your side, holding you close, in hopes his slightly higher body temperature can keep you warm.

"He's doing the best he can-" Jimin says, Seokjin next to Taehyung as they both lean over your body. Both witches are concentrated, already exhausted, but there's no way they're giving up on you now. Not only because you're important to Jungkook- but because no one deserves to simply die like this.

"I know, I know!" Jungkook huffs out, pupils turned into cat like slits- a clear sign of the absolute terror and chaos inside of him. "What if they're best isn't good enough? Jimin, I can't loose her, you don't understand-" He starts, but Jimin holds the younger one's shoulders, for the first time serious with him.

"I do." He glances at Taehyung. Jimin had saved Taehyung before as well- the young sea witch having been hit by a fisherman's harpoon years ago. Ever since then, Jimin had been attached to the witch like glue. "Trust me, I really do. And they're doing all they can to make sure she's going to be fine." He promises, and Jungkook nods.

All he can do is pray.

When you wake up, there's several things you notice.

First, you're alive. Having a raging headache, and your limbs and muscles feel horribly tender, but you're alive. There's also strings of rope tied to two rock formations acting like a clothing line, several blankets and clothes hanging from it. They don't look human-made to you- the fabrics and designs not something you would think of as regular. There's a bucket and several stained rags- now copper-brown with old blood. Its then that you look down, seeing your cut sewed shut.

You also notice its rather soft underneath you.

Its sheepskin laid over seaweed you notice- the whool soft and fluffy, and warm. Everything seems to be so thoughtfully placed, even some decorative items- you can spot fireflies casually sitting in a jar close by, and burned wood, probably to . Probably to make light during the night. You're tired however, so you simply lay down again. Quite honestly, surely you should fee worried about the situation- but then again, there was no one to miss you, no place you called your home anyways. No use in worrying- because deep down, you had your suspicion.

A Jungkook swims to the surface with the plastic box in his arms, he's careful not to throw it too hard onto the ground. As he steps out the water, he's sure to at least try and his his hands of most the water before he goes to check on the blankets he had brought this early morning. They've dried enough, he notices, and is glad about that, as he picks one up.

You don't have to be cold anymore, he thinks.

He's unnaturally careful for his typical character- his usual behavior quite the opposite as it was now. Now, he's making sure you're properly tucked in, as he notices your eyes watching him.

He freezes, for a moment.

Jungkook hasn't really thought much about what would happen if you were to wake up- after all, Seokjin had told him he was unsure if you were to wake up this early in the first place, and Taehyung didn't even know if you would wake up at all. He'd told his younger brother to be prepared for any reaction really; fear, confusion, maybe even anger. But you seem calm, curious even, and Jungkook decides to sit down in front of your face, waiting.

"You brought me here, right?" You ask, and he nods, eyes not leaving your form.

"You-.. hurt." He points to the spot where your wound had been. "Also hurt." His hand points to your head. "Brothers, helped." He informs you, and you smile, nodding at his words. He suddenly looks at the ground, mumbling. "I.. worried. Thought... you, dying." He tells you, and you sit up slowly again, keeping the blanket around your shoulders.

"I'm not dead though." You say, and he nods. "Thank you, Jungkook. Now we're even." You say, and he tilts his head in confusion- a mannerism you could only think of as cute. "I saved you- you saved me." You say, and he smiles, nodding.

"I-" He starts, leaning forward a bit, now way more energetic and lighthearted as before. "I- we-" He growls a little in frustration, and you cant help but giggle at his troubles- the chirps and clicks escaping him foreign- but somehow, they feel hazy, as if your mind knows the language, but has forgotten what it meant. He's trying so hard you notice, and appreciate. "You like here?" He asks, and points around. You nod, and he beams at you. "I made." He tells you, proudly so.

"I guessed as much. Its very thoughtful of you, thank you." You say, and he nods, happy you like what he did for you. Its not a permanent solution, obviously, but as soon as you're healed well enough, he already planned a new spot for you to come with him.

You just don't know it yet.

There's a weird feeling inside of you.

It's like homesickness, you think. Every time you look at the waters, you feel- sad? It's making you uneasy, and with every day passing by, it just gets worse and worse. But it's today, that you cant take it.

When you dip your legs into the water, it soothes an ache you can't recognize ever having. It helps your skin, it somehow feels as if you're breathing again. But It's not enough, you think- before you let yourself fall into the deep end.

You're floating.

It's like leaving a stuffy and crowded mall, just to stand in a park, fresh air after it had rained, and light breeze clearing your head. Everything is silent, but not at the same time- the water around you feeling as if you're being hugged, held. It makes you relax, makes you let go, makes you only exist for a moment.

You're floating.

And there's a sudden wave of realization that you're also breathing. There's no water in your lungs- or maybe there is, and you just don't feel it being there. Darkness surrounds you as you don't know where you are exactly- theres no telling where is where, no way to know if you're upright or not. Maybe you've died?

Did you drown?

If you did, it would explain Jungkook being there. He's swimming towards you with a face full of worry, as he grabs your wrist and holds you close. "I can't even let you out of my sight for a mere day it seems, my love." He sighs, and your eyes widen. Its almost comedic how his own do the same, focusing on your neck, as he touches.

You're sensitive, and shift away from his touch.

"It-" He starts, now holding your shoulders, as he begins to smile. "It worked! It really did- by the dragon kind, you look absolutely divine!" He laughs, and can't help but hold your hands, eyes roaming your appearance, as you don't quite get it- until you follow his gaze.

Just like him, there's fins now on the sides of your calfs, smaller ones on your ankles as well. Theres also ones decorating your outer forearms- they look like the ones you'd always see on goldfish as a kid. There's something alike to scales as well, but barely noticable. "I- what happened to me?" You ask, and Junkook smiles.

"You.. almost died." He admits, taking your hand and swimming to what you assume is back towards the cave. "You had been robbed during the day, and when I found you.. well, you know what happened." He says. "While you were asleep, we were thinking about what to do. There was no way you would survive as a human- so, a friend of mine- Taehyung- performed a ritual, together with Seokjin, my brother." He says. You finally spot light, glad to be able to have at least some form of orientation. "I'm glad you're adjusting so quickly, my love." He states, smiling at you.

You notice the petname again.

"Jungkook-" You start, as you both reach the cave again, sitting on the edge of where the ground of the cave meets the water. "Why are you.. calling me that?" You ask, and Jungkook seems confused.

"Why do you ask?" He questions. And you don't quite follow, until he continues. "You're my mate- I am only addressing you as such."

Your eyes widen. "Wait- we're-" You start, and its only then that it clicks in Jungkooks head.

"Oh." He says- the dissapointment bitter and evident in his voice. "You.. didn't know?" He asks, and you shake your head, unsure what he means. "I see.." He tells you, suddenly distant. "I.. will bring you breakfast tomorrow.. sleep well." He abruptly says, and before you can say anything, he's already gone.

What just happened?

"There you are!" A voice says, deeper than Jungkooks, but not unfamiliar. Taehyung had been visiting and bringing you food and nescessities ever since that talk with Jungkook. This time, however, Taehyung seems like he wants to say something. You look at him, silently urging him, and he sits down next to you, sighing.

"Does he hate me?" You ask, quietly, and Taehyung looks sad.

"He could never." He says. "He just.. didn't take the rejection well. He'll need time to come around. It won't take that much time- his mother is already trying to get a new partner for him." He explains, and your head whips around towards him. "I- you.. did reject him, right?" He asks, slowly. "You do.. not love him, right?" He urges again, and you groan suddenly, throwing your face into your hands.

"Oh my god I'm so stupid.." You say. "It all.. everything was so overwhelming, I didn't even notice what he was doing." You cry into your hands, as Taehyungs hand places itself onto your back, trying to soothe you. "I though.. especially after I found out about his status.." You mumble. "How could he want me?" You ask, and Taehyung sighs.

"Head up, little siren." He says. "He's still able to hear you sing, if you want to." He says, and you look at him.

"But how?" You say. "I have no idea where the kingdom, or anything really is. And he won't come see me until its too late." You say.

"Well-" Taehyung says, standing up, and holding out his hand. "-allow me to escort the future princess to her lover."

"How did you find me?" He simply asks, not turning around, as you float closer. "I'm sorry, but I still need time to.. get over-" He starts, but you don't let him finish, instead leaning into his back, your arms around his middle.

"I'm stupid." You say. "I'm really, really stupid." He shakes his head, but you continue. "Just because I didn't realize- doesn't mean that I don't feel anything for you." You say. "I just.. felt unworthy, I guess. Insignificant." You admit, and he turns around, holding your face in his hands.

"You really are not gifted with the mind of the dragons king, my love." He states teasingly, the glimmer in his eyes returning. "My status means nothing to me, if that meant I could not have you." He says, and you lean forward, capturing his lips. "I hope you know what this meant, at least." He teases, and your eyes widen, scared you might've done something wrong. "It means you love me." He says, and you chuckle.

"Good." You say. "Because I do."

Even though he thinks you looked like a goddess reborn in your white and pearl decorated gown from the wedding, he enjoys you without it, close to him, just as much. He's alive, he's feeling, he's in love, as his hands move over your skin, his senses filled with you and nothing else.

The sounds you make for him are sweeter than any siren's song he's ever heard or could ever sing himself. No member of his kind is as enchanting as you, he decides, as he bites and kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. Jimin had teased him relentlessly the entire evening and night by trying to send you sweet words, to which you didn't react- but that didn't mean that it didn't piss him off.

You were his.

His princess- and soon to be queen, one day.

And he's planning on making that very evident, as he marks up your skin with little bites, visible for everyone to see. He wants everyone to know, even though by tomorrow, the entire Kingdom will celebrate the marriage of its prince anyways. He's more than ready to show you off, to hold you close, to have people see the divine being at his side that's you.

It's only natural for his hands to roam your skin, for his lips to worhip every inch it seems, as you reach out for his hand every second it leaves you. It's painfully endearing he thinks, how you can be so innocent and pure, while he's between your legs, performing the sinful act of pleasuring you with his mouth.

You pull him towards you, as you straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him. He's in god's divine lands he thinks, as he suddenly feels you sinking down on his awaiting length. You fit around him perfectly, more so than he could've ever imagined. And as you both move, he holds you close, happy that here, in his world, he doesn't need to breathe.

He can kiss you as long as he wants.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. I spilled strawberry milk on my poor laptop while writing this.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Sing To Me AU

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

The late Daniel Fenton

It was shaping up to be a beautiful if chilly December day and Casper High, as always, was bustling. It was 7:49 and class was about to start. The teacher watched the last few kids stumbling in at various levels of wakefulness. He already knew who would be the ones to rush in after the bell but that was alright. Life was too short to stress about being a few minutes late to class, especially in Amity Park of all places.

He looked up to see Madison, one of his shyer students walk in before making a beeline for his desk. She was biting her lip and nervously rubbing her hand down her skirt. “Hey,” she began quietly.

“Good morning. What’s up, Mads?” He asked casually. She looked upset, he could probably put on a video for the class if she needed to talk. They really needed a permanent counselor but the constant ghost attacks ran off most of them so he’d taken up the unofficial mantle. It felt good to help his students like that, make up for past wrongs.

“Are we um, expecting any new students?” She asked, her eyes darting over to the door she’d just come through. “Any transfers, exchange students or anything like that?”

“No,” the teacher frowned. “Amity isn’t the kind of place people transfer into. Why?”

“There’s a kid in the hallway,” she mumbled. “I don’t recognize him, he’s got a backpack and everything but he’s... I don’t know he doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh you’re talking about that weird dark haired kid,” Kyle said as he entered and sat down with a slouch. But even the class slacker looked unusually tense. “Dude’s creepy, can’t put my finger on why but he definitely doesn’t belong.”

“Oh,” was all the teacher had to say. Suddenly he realized how cold the classroom had become, the uncomfortable feeling that was pressing ever so slightly down on them. “I suppose it makes sense, the ghosts have been quiet lately with the Truce and all. He probably got bored.”

“Sir?” Madison said.

“Shannon,” he said instead, looking over at the frizzy haired girl hunched over her sketchbook furiously at work. “Would you do me a favor and move to the vacant seat in the second row? Just for today.”

“What? Why?” the girl whined even as she gathered up her various arts supplies and got ready to move.

“That’s Mr. Fenton’s seat,” he said taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes in preparation for what he was about to see. Danny would come here, of course he would. This was Lancer’s old classroom and Danny had him for first period English Lit. He and Dash both did.

“Mr. Baxter? What’s going on, is it a ghost?” Malik asked from the back row while Shannon shuffled to her new temporary seat.

“Yes but you don’t need to be scared,” he said softly, evenly. “He won’t hurt you.” The bell rang but Dash didn’t start the lesson. Instead, he waited. Danny had never been on time to class the entire time Dash had known him, of course death wouldn’t change that.

“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Lancer,” Dash gripped his desk so he didn’t jump when Danny Fenton simply appeared in front of his desk instead of walking through the door like any other student. “My folks couldn’t drive me, they’re still working on their stupid ghost portal.” A quick glance over at this class showed varying levels of fear, shock and curiosity but they were Amity kids through and through. The cold, powerful energy radiating off Fenton told them it was best to play along with whatever the ghost wanted.

“Perfectly alright Mr. Fenton,” Dash said softly, searching the 14 year old’s perpetually young face. He hadn’t changed a bit since Dash last saw him their second week of freshman year. It seemed unreal seeing how the years had taken their toll on Casper’s favorite son, Dash Baxter. God had they really been that young once? “Take a seat and we’ll get started.”

Danny shrugged and walked over to the seat Shannon had just vacated. He sat just the same, one leg stretched out and the other propped up against the leg of the desk. As soon as he took off the backpack and put it around the chair, it disappeared. He didn’t say anything else, just sat as stared at Dash with piercing blue eyes like he could see right through him.

“We had been talking about the lead up to the Civil War but let’s table that for today,” Dash said, proud his voice only wavered a little. He knew other people had seen Fenton around town. Lina saw him standing outside the Nasty Burger maybe five or so years ago. Dale, who used to live near Fenton Works swore he sometimes saw someone moving through the windows of the long abandoned house. He’d always secretly dreaded the thought of seeing Danny Fenton again, afraid he’d finally get was coming to him.

“Instead, we’re going to talk about local history,” he continued, not daring to take his eyes off the undead teen. Every other living student was tense, afraid. He wished he could assure them that the ghost wouldn’t lay a hand on them. In the event Fenton decided to ditch the hero schtick, it would be Dash and Dash alone he’d come after. “Amity Park has long had rumors of being haunted dating all the way back to the 1600s. It wasn’t until the last century that scientists determined that Amity Park is located on top of a thin spot between our world and the ghost realm. Natural portals form here all the time allowing spirits to pass through.”

No one spoke and barely anyone breathed except for Danny would wasn’t breathing at all. He just sat and stared at Dash with steady, unblinking eyes.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton were the scientists who discovered the weak point in reality in Amity. They devoted their entire life to the study of ghosts and made remarkable advancements in our knowledge of ectobiology and culture, the first being,” he paused as Danny cocked his head in confusion, squinting his eyes suspiciously at Dash. “The first being their manmade portal to the ghost zone. The portal remained active for almost two decades for research purposes but was shut down following their deaths.”

“You’re not Mr. Lancer,” Danny said suddenly, his eyes shifting from baby blue to an ectoplasmic green. Marty, who was sitting to the left of Danny, swallowed a squeak of fear and squeezed his eyes shut.

“No,” Dash sighed, “Lancer died almost thirty years ago now. Best teacher I ever had, he gave me his blessing when he passed on the job to me.”

“I,” the ghost ran his hand through his hair which was starting to lose its color. Seeing Fenton looking so scared and confused made him ache. It reminded him of old times. Dash had spent most of his life making sure he helped hurt kids if only to make up for the one he’d never been able to make it up to. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, Danny,” he soothed. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“The portal, it wasn’t working at first,” Danny justified, his aura glowing a little more. “Sam and Tuck, they were curious. They wanted to look but I told them it wasn’t allowed, Sam, Sam she dared me to go in. I put on the hazmat suit and went inside and found the on button inside. I accidentally hit it and-” he paused midsentence and looked down at his hands. They weren’t pale flesh anymore but covered in white gloves. The black was completely bleached from his hair. A few of the students gasped as they saw the strange would be student melt into Phantom, the ghostly hero who’d been protecting their town since their parents were young. “I died.”

So much time had gone by. People were born and people were buried and the truth became distorted until it was just a legend passed jokingly around cafeteria lunch tables. Amity’s youth had forgotten their town’s history until it was sitting in a desk, trying once more to be one of them.

“You did,” Dash said sadly. He remembered hearing the news of Fenton's death. An assembly had been called the morning after the accident. Lancer had cried at the podium, Manson and Foley hadn’t returned to school for a week and had never been the same again. Dash hadn’t known what to think at the time, only that the kid he’d beat up for the crime of being different would never show up to school again. Or so he’d thought. “It was a tragedy, you were mourned by a lot of people.”

“I know you, don’t I?” Danny said quietly before he sat up straighter. “Dash?”

“In the flesh,” Dash grinned shakily.

“But you’re so old,” Danny said, once more distressed. “Your hair is grey and there’s wrinkles on your face and-and you’re a teacher now?” The last line was said with incredulity, his eyes flaring again. “You used to push me down the stone steps of the school and shove me into my locker and call me names.”

“Yeah, I did,” he sighed, feeling every one of his years. He was pushing 70 but he didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling like a stupid 14 year old who took out his frustrations on the ones who didn’t deserve it. “But you were the last; I never touched another kid again. I’m married now, four kids. I’m vice principal now, teach History and coach the school’s football team. It’s,” his voice caught again, still unable to process how young and stupid Fenton looked sitting there like no time had passed at all. It made Dash feel like all his accomplishments and attempts to be better would never amount to anything so long as his last victim roamed the earth unable to find peace. “It doesn’t fix what I did back then but I make damn sure that there won’t be any bullying at Casper so long as I’m here.”

“Huh,” Danny said, slouching once more in his seat but it looked less like his earlier teenage laziness and more weary. He and Dash were the same age after all, just because only one of them got old doesn’t mean time didn’t still affect them. “You did change, a lot of things did.” Danny looked down at the desk, “how long has it been?”

“Almost 50 years,” Dash sighed. “My wife wants me to retire but I guess I always find more things to do.” He paused then decided it was now or never. “I’m sorry Danny, for hurting you back then. I wish I'd gotten to know you better.”

For just a moment, Danny was perfectly clear. Even half floating out of his chair and looking like the local celebrity, his eyes were so painfully human. A boy killed before he ever got a chance to get started. Who’s will to protect was so strong it lasted half a century. It haunted him late at night to think of the glory and power of Phantom overshadowing just how incredible Danny Fenton had been. Not that anyone had seen it at the time. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone left to remember that quiet, kind teenager and then Danny Fenton really would be dead. Kill him just as thoroughly as that portal had.

The moment was broken by a breath of cold leaking out of the ghost’s lips and, just like that, his highschool classmate was gone and Phantom was left in his stead. He looked curiously around the classroom as if he didn’t know how he’d gotten there.

“There’s a ghost, stay here and don’t leave unless the fighting gets too close. I’ll get it though, don’t worry. No kids are dying today.” Maybe it was Dash’s imagination but he thought he saw Phantom’s eyes linger on him for an extra moment, trying to place where he knew the teacher from. Dash just smiled.

“Our lives are in your hands. Good luck, Phantom,” the ghost teen saluted before fading away entirely. Dash let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, suddenly exhausted but also lighter at the same time. It wasn’t every day you got to look your mistakes in the face and apologize. “Shannon, you can move back now.”

“No, I’m okay here,” Shannon said as she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook and looked intently at the spot where Fenton had once sat. “It’s like you said, that’s Danny’s seat.”

“I had no idea, Phantom’s been around for like, ever,” Freddie mumbled, pushing up his glasses. “But he used to be just like us.” And still was, Dash thought sadly. Danny would never grow old, never go to space like he’d always dreamed or marry Manson like he’d probably intended to. He was stuck, in more ways than one for who knows how long.

“Yes, that’s why it’s important to know your history. The Civil War and my other lessons are important but we can’t forget these smaller, more intimate histories. If we lose these lessons to time then we risk repeating the same mistakes over again.” He looked his students in the eyes, holding their attention.

“So we’ll continue today with the local history. Before he was ghost butt kicking superhero, Phantom was Danny Fenton, son of the local ghost hunters and a bit of an outcast in town. The Daniel Fenton Foundation was founded about a year after his death and was-”

#danny phantom #dead danny au #if bitch fartman won't redeem dash then I guess it up to me #god can you imagine growing up and growing old only to look at your past victim in the eye and see nothing has changed for him?#i could go on and on about what other characters got up to #but this is about the tragedy of the loss of Danny Fenton #not only his life but his memory #time moves on and Fenton got lost in the mix #once Dash's generation dies then Fenton will just be a cautionary tale #a ghost story #No one will remember that their hero was one long before he got his powers #god Im fuckign sad now #eat up and enjoy your angst

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bat-burrito · 2 years

Photo

A Catra Carol

(Another lengthy one, full under the cut)

Catra couldn’t shake the unnerving feeling she was being watched while she slept. She awoke with a start to find that this was in fact the case. “Entrapta??” Catra sputtered. “How are you here? This isn’t possible, you should be on Beast Island!”

The glowing aura around Entrapta flickered as she spoke: “Catra, in life I thought that we were friends, but you threw me under the bus to save yourself. To be clear, you did not literally throw me under the bus, but you did send me to my death, which is very closely related.”

Catra stared. “Well, what do you want?”

“I’ve come to inform you that you will have to answer my riddles three,” Entrapta replied.

“What??”

“Sorry, my bad, wrong line.” Entrapta cleared her throat. “You will be visited by three spirits- Well, four including me, but I don’t count in this scenario. So three additional spirits will come visit you tonight.”

Catra’s eyes narrowed. “Why? Can’t they just show up all at once and get this stupid thing over with?”

Entrapta shook her head and her hair-chains rattled. “They will visit you consecutively. I don’t remember why. But finding out is half the fun! Byeee!”

And with that, she disappeared, leaving Catra alone to await her next visitor.

It wasn’t long at all before Catra was plummeting to her death. “Whhhhaaat thhhee fuuuuuck!” she screamed as she hurdled to the ground.

At some point, she realized she was no longer falling, but floating in midair. She turned to see her ex-girlfriend beside her. “Hey, Adora,” she muttered, feeling quite ill.

“Not tonight!” Adora replied. “Tonight I’m the ghost of Christmas Past. Look over there!” Adora pointedly aggressively to another Catra and Adora, from about a year prior. “Remember when you tried to kill me? Multiple times? Not cool.”

Catra’s brows furrowed. “It was an accident.”

Adora frowned. “How do you accidentally try to kill someone?”

Catra shrugged. “Childhood trauma?”

Adora hummed. “Speaking of trauma...”

Before another word was spoken, Catra was flying through time and space once more.

“Welcome, darling!” The Double Trouble of Christmas Present crooned. “Look who we have here! It’s your second-in-command, Scorpia. Remember how you verbally abuse her every day?”

Catra sputtered. “I..That’s...”

“And look at this,” Present Trouble continued. “When you sent Entrapta to die horribly, she left behind her only daughter, Tiny Em. Scorpia had to adopt her, and she doesn’t know how to fix her sticky left leg.”

Catra paled. “I...I didn’t know it was that bad...”

Double Tresent grinned. “Too bad, it’s for Christmas honey! Next!”

Catra was yeeted roughly to the ground. She blinked up at the tall figure before her. “Shadow Weaver? I was hoping in my future, you’d be dead.”

The ghost of Christmas Future who didn’t even need an outfit change gestured to the tombstone before them.

Catra felt sick. “What? No... I’ve only used up six of my lives, I’ve got three to go! Please don’t let Shadow Weaver be the last thing I see before I die, please!”

And then Catra woke up.

It was all a weird dream. She knew she shouldn’t have eaten that expired ration burrito before bed. But the thought of Shadow Weaver outliving her did give her a new outlook on life and she dashed out of her room.

“You there! Weirdly festively-dressed guard! What day is it?” Catra demanded as she ran into the hall.

“Oi miss! Why it’s Christmas day!” The guard replied. “Did ye hit ya head? A spot on the ol’ bip bop, maybay? Pip pip tally-ho?”

Catra didn’t know what that meant, but she knew what she had to do.

She madeout with her ex, now current girlfriend, on the floor of a Macy’s. She didn’t even bother changing out of her nightgown, although she somehow found time for a haircut. She gave Scorpia a raise and they saved Entrapta, who wasn’t dead, so it was weird that she appeared as a ghost but they decided not to talk about. Then they all bought Emily a new leg, and Christmas was saved.

"God bless us, everyone!” Emily beeped in morse code, but Entrapta whispered God would soon perish.

The end.

#Uncle Bat's 25 days of shitmas #it's been quite the journey #I hope you were as cursed looking at all of these as I was making them #merry christmas to all and to all a good shitpost #long post #catra shitpost

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Burden

Characters: Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,261

Warnings: None

Premise: Xiao fell in love with your goodness, with your selflessness and generosity towards others. Perhaps, however, in doing so he had misunderstood your own complexities.

In which the reader feels they are a burden.

Author’s Note: I feel like I should note that there are going to be some relatively extreme emotions, mostly negative. I don’t feel like it’s enough or specific enough to be given a warning, but if anyone wants to tell me to tag it for something I will gladly. That being said I’m pretty proud of this one

Xiao

Ever since your first interaction you had been helping Xiao. It had seemed so natural, even then, even when nothing seemed natural about interacting with a human, those strange people from who Xiao must always be separated. Yet there you were, asking if this perfect stranger was alright. And there Xiao was, suddenly seeing his world opening up before him.

Perhaps it was for this reason that your relationship had developed in the way it had. To Xiao your selflessness, your never ending kindness, the fact that you would stop to help someone regardless of circumstance, all of that was normal. It was innate in your personality, and perhaps that was why Xiao never questioned what effect having that kind of personality might have on you. It is easy to assume that a kind and selfless person is also one with a short memory. After all, how could they stand it otherwise?

So when the first, barely noticeable, traces of that burden which Xiao saw so often began to swirl around you the yaksha’s initial reaction was that of utter panic. Was this not the exact reason that Xiao had chosen to disconnect himself from humanity? Was this not proof, right before him, that the chains he carried could not be contained. Though Xiao generally thought of humans as vaguely useless, deserving of protection because Rex Lapis proclaimed it be so, the idea of harming any one of them with the legacy of his own sins, it was something that he could never stomach, no matter how many times he feigned apathy. That you should be the person upon who his burdens should be transferred, how could he bear it?

Of course a small, more logical, part of him urged the adeptus to stop and think. The miasma that Xiao attracted in such high concentration was everywhere, and humans were not exempt from this burden by themselves. After all, did humanity not channel great evil as well as good? Did not the most ordinary human, dejected by their lot in life, become swarmed by little wisps of evil? Yet those were other, ordinary humans. Ordinary humans couldn’t understand the sheer capability to love that you seemed to possess. No, if Xiao could sense such a miasma around you then it was surely his fault.

Still the idea of leaving you was something quite painful to Xiao, to the adeptus who had so recently learned what it meant to love someone wholeheartedly. He told himself that it was best to leave immediately, best to disappear with the wind and never look back. Yet a part of him couldn’t seem to bear the idea; and that was the part that won out as Xiao approached you later in the day, as if in a desperate last attempt to prove himself wrong.

“Are you alright?”

“Xiao!” You jumped slightly, having evidently been lost in thought. Smiling widely you shook your head. “Of course I’m alright! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I…” Xiao paused for a moment as the idea of telling you what was going on flitted through his head. Almost immediately the thought was squashed. After all, would the knowledge not worry you more? “I was just asking.”

“Well thank you Xiao, it’s very kind of you to think of me.”

“It’s my duty.”

“Still,” your smile never faltered. “You deserve thanks for what you do nonetheless.”

Xiao tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach, tried to block out the emotions that crashed over him like great waves as you leaned in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. Was this not a good thing? After all, if Xiao was what cause this miasma to float around you, then was that not your salvation? Xiao knew how easy it was to drown in the burdens that one must shoulder. He knew how easy it was for humans to sink to the bottom of their despair and never once more emerge for water. Why should it not be a blessing that you would never have to fight to keep your head up, to keep yourself from a life full of burdens? Why, why did it hurt so much?

During the night, Xiao would leave during the night. After all, you deserved one last evening of happiness, if the yaksha could even believe that he brought you happiness. Or maybe it was for his sake that he refused to leave before the world was plunged into darkness. Maybe it was simply that Xiao could no longer imagine a world without you, and that such nightmares came out easier at night. Lying on top of the roof, eyes closed, ears focused on the familiar tread of your feet, Xiao willed himself not to think. He could regret when he was far away from you, when you were once more safe. For now he could only follow that ritual which had so long kept him sane, kept him from joining his brethren. For now he thought only of the contract he had once made.

The sound of your feet on the ground below came all too soon, as the sun finally began its descent across the heavens in earnest. Keeping his eyes closed, as if to stall the darkness for a little longer, Xiao took a deep breath in. He needed to steel himself for this evening; if not, well, Xiao had no wish to cry for the first time in a millennia.

Only once these thoughts finished flitting around in his head did the yaksha finally recognize the change in your footfall. Usually you were very light on your feet, dashing this way and that, stopping to ask Goldet or Yanxiao some mundane question, inquiring after the old lady who had basically set up permanent residence on the bottom floor of the Inn. This time, however, you seemed to drag, as if you were indeed carrying something very heavy. Alarm flashing through him, Xiao willed himself into perfect stillness. He wished to hear more, wished to understand what had caused such a change in you.

What he certainly hadn’t expected was the labored breathing of someone seconds away from tears.

The moment Xiao heard the door to your room close the sobbing began in earnest. Though you certainly seemed to be trying your hardest to hide your tears the sound of your muffled sobs rang through Xiao like a siren, flaring up every bit of alarm he had to offer. Jumping off of the roof Xiao catapulted his way through the hallways of the Inn, not bothering to hide his presence to the few, very confused, residents that were out. Reaching your room he didn’t allow himself a moment’s hesitation before grabbing the knob and opening the door.

Your head snapped up, eyes a mixture of dark emotions as you stared at him. For a moment you seemed ready to flee, to run and hide somewhere, or perhaps to throw him out. However almost immediately you seemed to sink back into yourself, and though Xiao could still sense your distress, at least the initial shock of his arrival seemed to have passed as quickly as it would otherwise.

“Xiao! I, I didn’t expect you. I, could, could you leave? I don’t, I don’t want, I don’t want to be seen right now.” It was all you could get out before another round of sobs wracked through your body.

Trying to remember what you had done for so many people, for himself, Xiao grabbed the pitcher that sat at one of the tables in the room. Pouring some water into a glass he crept towards you as softly as possible, hoping that he could convey his worries in these odd, brusque actions. He knew that he didn’t have the talent you had to comfort people, knew that all his gestures of kindness inevitably came out cramped and awkward. Nevertheless he shoved the glass into your hands, staring just past you as you tentatively downed the water. Taking the glass from you Xiao then reached out one of his palms to you. His relief when you placed your own palm on top of his was indescribable.

“I guess you probably would like an explanation,” you rasped out.

Xiao said nothing, waiting for you to act on your own. If he knew anything the yaksha knew that attempting to force the truth out of anyone would never worked. Hadn’t his own years as a pariah taught him that.

“It’s just,” you finally continued, taking in deep, labored breaths. “It’s just so hard. It’s so hard Xiao, I can’t stand it anymore!”

“Stand it?”

“Stand the… the hurt!”

Your eyes filled with tears, and you went to grab the handkerchief that you left on your nightstand. You always needed one with you, as your eyes stung terribly whenever you began to cry. Xiao said nothing as you sobbed once more, only moving to draw small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

“It hurts so much, to see other people. To hear their problems. Not that it’s their fault, or that I don’t want to help them. I do, I really do. I look at all the people suffering near me and I just want to take all their burdens and give it to myself, after all they don’t deserve all their sufferings. But it’s so hard Xiao, it’s so hard to take on people’s burdens, even a little bit. And I feel so selfish when I think that, so selfish and so worthless. How can I say that? But it’s true, it’s really, really true. And when I think about that, when I think about all the other people suffering worse than me, it just makes me feel so horribly selfish. Like, like all my problems are so stupid and selfish and telling others would only hurt them, and didn’t I want to take everyone else’s burdens away? I’m so stupid. And it just, it hurts.”

Xiao sat there quietly once more, waiting as you cried. At one point you seemed to collapse in on yourself, leaning against his shoulder as if to support yourself. Only then did Xiao allow himself to move. Carding his hands through your hair he said nothing, he merely waited.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. You already have enough burdens, I know. I shouldn’t be complaining to you of all people. I, if you want you can tell me if something is wrong. I mean, you always can, I, just. I don’t know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“My burdens are my own,” Xiao replied softly, finally letting the emotions swirling through him try to string together as words. “It has nothing to do with you. It never will. You, you should come to me when you feel burdened.”

“But then I’m only passing my problems onto you!”

“I told you, my chains are my own. They are the payment for my contract. They aren’t what you tell me or push on me. If you feel these burdens then give to me. That is my duty.”

“But Xiao, I, I don’t want to. I don’t want to be a problem.”

“How can you say something so stupid,” Xiao scoffed. Bringing his hand to your cheek he sighed softly. “You will never be a problem. You will always be dear to me. Let me help you. You help so many humans. I want to help you.”

“I, I don’t know,” you spoke, voice faltering.

Though Xiao could still feel the tension in the air, could still see the miasma which swirled around you, there was something fragile about it. It was as if Xiao could reach through the tangled threads and pull them away, if only he could find a way to do so. Stroking your cheek softly Xiao pressed his forehead to yours. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath in. After a few moments he heard you do the same.

The rest of the evening Xiao stayed vigilant by your side, listening as you finally let yourself say all the things that had been weighing down upon you. It was painful, listening to you. Xiao constantly had to fight the urge to tell you how wrong you were, how much you mattered and how far he would go to bring you all the happiness he could possible gather in his stained hands. Still he said nothing, for if you had taught him anything it was that simply listening could do infinitely more than promising to fight or trying to shoulder each burden as you lay them out in the daylight.

Eventually you grew exhausted, a combination of the crying and the talking and the reliving. As Xiao listened to your breath even out, softly shifting your head from leaning on his shoulder to resting in his lap, the yaksha thought about all that had happened.

Xiao had assumed that you were somehow above all the humans around you. Purer, gentler, kinder. He hadn’t stopped to think how that might have affected you. Now that he knew that wasn’t true, now that Xiao knew how deeply you felt, how sometimes your mind too chased after darkness or found itself struggling to keep above water, he couldn’t help but feel as if he’d missed something before. Perhaps you shouldered these burdens and perhaps you were just as human as the rest. You were still kind, kind and selfless and utterly beautiful. And Xiao still loved you in a way that continued to burn brightly through his soul.

#genshin impact #xiao x reader #xiao #alatus #genshin impact fanfiction #requested #oneshot #my writing

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