#It's terrifying to have emotions you can't connect to anything. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hericaslibrary · 13 days

Text

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 ?

featuring : gn!reader + Zoro, Mihawk and Ace

warning : none

masterlist

Roronoa Zoro

His heart suddenly beats more rapidly whenever he sees you smiling, laughing, or even doing the most random thing. On top of that, Sanji's overly complimentary remarks towards you make him want to reach for his swords. No, this can't be. He's stared death down a thousand times, cut through countless enemies. Yet, this new feeling blooming for you – it's terrifying.

Zoro coming to terms with his feelings for you? Buckle up, because it's going to be a hilarious journey. Denial will be his middle name for a while, trust me. This dense swordsman will be in for a wild ride before he finally connects the dots.

Thanks to Nami's interrogation skills (and a little sake), the whole crew knows Zoro has a thing for you. Now, expect endless teasing from Luffy and Usopp, who'll probably try to spill the beans before a certain mosshead gives them his best glare.

Zoro finally figuring out his feelings for you? Great! Now comes the real test: talking to you about them. Because let's be honest, under that tough-guy act, he is probably a nervous wreck, sweating bullets at the thought of rejection.

Zoro's not exactly the Romeo type. So expect a confession that's straightforward, maybe a bit awkward – but heartfelt nonetheless. If you feel the same, a weight will lift from his shoulders. But if not, he'll respect your decision and try to keep things smooth between you.

Dracule Mihawk

Don't be fooled by Mihawk's stoic facade – because he is quite aware of his feelings for you. Years have honed his instincts, and unlike his pupil, he has no time (and he is too old) for childish denial. His emotions are clear, even if unspoken.

That man has a very calculating mind. He'll dissect every interaction, every glance, searching for a sign that you love him as mush as he loves you. Despite his solitary nature, his mind might already be constructing a future by your side – a future dependent on your response.

Mihawk is probably one of the few men in One Piece who are very romantic (Oda told me so). His brand of romance is subtle yet charming. Imagine leisurely strolls through his gardens or watching the sunset with a glass of wine by his side. A subtle offer of his arm, a hint of a blush from you – that might be all the encouragement he needs to take things a step further.

Once confident your feelings mirror his own, Mihawk will approach things in an (VERY) old-fashioned way. Be prepared for a carefully crafted dinner invitation, where he can formally request the honor of courting you. His pride lies in being a gentleman, and rushing into things is simply not his style. He prefers to court you slowly and respectfully, allowing your relationship to develop naturally.

After a series of thoughtful dates, Mihawk will finally take the next step and ask you to be his partner (Perona and Zoro might have placed a bet on the timeline, of course). Like everything he does, Mihawk will approach this new chapter with utmost seriousness. Your well-being will always be his top priority.

Portgas D. Ace

Ace isn't the denial type. The ache when you're gone, the quiet competition with Marco and Izo for your laughter – these are the clues that tip him off. Ace falling for you? It's written all over his flustered face. He stutters and turns red like a tomato when speaking to you unexpectedly.

The entire crew is a nuisance and teases him constantly about his love for you. They have grilled him mercilessly – “When will you confess?” they ask, convinced you feel the same.

Denial ? Once again, not Ace's style. But baring his heart, admitting his love for you ? That's a terrifying vulnerability he fears more than anything. On top of that, I believe he is also afraid of losing your friendship by making things awkward if you don't feel the same about him.

Thankfully, Marco, ever the voice of reason, is there to guide this lovestruck dummy. And honestly, this old man is tired of watching you two pining from afar. A stern talk from Marco might be just what Ace needs to understand that silence could lead to a missed opportunity for a great relationship.

Ace's confession? A masterpiece in the making, at least in his head. Daily mirror pep talks and a meticulously planned romantic gesture – that's how he plans to declare his love. Just imagine the blushing, the stammering, the potential for minor explosions (caused by Ace's nervousness, of course).

Dinner over, Ace reaches for something hidden in his pocket. His nervousness is palpable, a sheen of sweat forming on his brow. But then, with a determined glint in his eye, he throws caution (and the letter) to the wind, ready to confess his true feelings directly from the heart.

#divider by cafekitsune #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #zoro roronoa x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #portgas d ace x reader #zoro x reader #mihawk x reader #ace x reader #zoro roronoa x you #portgas d ace x you #dracule mihawk x you #zoro x y/n #mihawk x y/n #ace x y/n

688 notes · View notes

vampiresfromxenon · 7 months

Text

I Wanted To

Astarion x gn! Reader/Tav

Almost 3.5k words

Tags: Fluff, kisses, cuddling, angst, biting mention, no use of y/n, words of affection (so much sappiness), soft! Astarion, they’re in love your honor!!

CW: Slight mentions of SA and trauma (extremely minor, incredibly light piece)

Summary: You and Astarion decide to start your relationship over once you both confess your feelings. It's a mutual decision to take things extremely slow, celebrating little victories of intimacy here and there. Tonight, you can't hide your words of affection as he becomes more comfortable and vulnerable around you.

It’s been a few months traveling with this rowdy crew, and you can’t help but smile thinking about how much you love them all. Granted, they all piss you off on the daily, what from Shadowheart and Lae’zel attempting to kill each other, to Gale eating your favorite pair of enchanted gloves, but you can’t help yourself from smiling every time you think about how close you’ve all grown. One particular member in the party you have become very close with stands out a bit more than the rest, and thoughts about him are enough to make you unsettlingly giddy.

For the longest time, you and the pale elf fought your feelings, too cold to warm up to each other. You both had a wicked past, something that tainted your current perceptions of love and romance. His may have been far more extreme than yours, but regardless of that fact, your feelings and emotions were still valid. For a short few weeks, you found yourselves being extra intimate, dismissing it all as stress relief and nothing more. Those little excursions were merely there as a form of self protection: He gained your trust and protection, and you felt less alone and vulnerable at night. Or, so you thought, until you noticed how distant he was, his eyes never meeting yours every time he sought to pleasure you.

It wasn’t until recently that these barriers slowly began to be chipped away for the both of you, your infatuation not only becoming more real, but unfortunately, more terrifying. One night, you approached him, being brave and understanding if he had other thoughts about what you two could be. It was late, most of the camp either asleep or preparing for bed. You approached him, a soft hand on his shoulder, even though he was well aware you were there. What you were there for though, remained a mystery to him. He turned, smiling at you, taking your hand and kissing it affectionately. As your heart raced, you began a discussion with him, asking his thoughts and feelings about your ‘connection’ rather than just bombarding him with an overwhelming confession of love.

He seemed stunned to say the least, unsure of what to say or how to feel. It was strange for him, his cold heart beating a little faster, feeling a little warmer at the sight of you in front of him, actually seeing him for him and not just another plaything. All these feelings were bubbling up inside him because, for the first time in a long time, someone not only asked him what he wanted in a romantic relationship, but they respected anything he said on that subject matter. In all his nervousness, he felt that he could be honest in his reciprocation to see how far you two could go, this time with real feelings. That was a few weeks ago, and all this time since has been magical.

You haven’t intimately slept together since just before that night, instead establishing boundaries and focusing more on the non-sexual ways to be intimate, loving, and kind. He loves the way your hand brushes his, the way your fingers interlace with his as he moves in to hold your hand. You love the way his hand lands on your back, stretching to your hip to pull you closer to him, especially when meeting new people from town to town. While you still struggle with eye-contact in general, it feels easier around him, especially now since he has found himself to be more comfortable actually looking at you, taking in your appearance and being more present in your conversations.

For many nights now, you’ve been cuddled up nicely in one or the other’s tent, fingers interlaced, hands gently wrapped around hips, legs occasionally intertwined. He still continues to feed on you, though he makes sure to gain your permission before bed each night. On the nights where you felt too tired, too drained mentally even, he would leave you be, hoping to keep you as comfortable as possible. Those nights were just as romantic, as you could feel his breath against your neck as he cuddles you tightly, his lips on your shoulder as he falls into the soft rhythm of sleep.

Tonight didn’t start off any differently from any other night; you both gathered in his tent, doing your nightly routines as per usual (always before promptly passing out until the next morning hit you like a boulder). Most nights he would wear a nice, silky pajama set, one he purchased from an unreasonably expensive fashion designer in a small village. You didn’t have as luxurious of pajamas, but yours still covered most of your body, keeping you feeling safe and snuggled up each night.

Neither of you expected that this night would change everything.

He’s standing off to the side of your shared bedroll, changing into his pajamas while your back is turned to him, fiddling with the blanket you both share. You notice just how used this blanket is, and you realize that it might have been the only thing giving him comfort, the feeling of security over the past 200 or so years. Astarion was far from one to share, whether it was his feelings or his belongings, and it isn’t long before you have a second realization: you are possibly the only person to have ever slept with that blanket besides him. Your fingers gently roll the decaying fabric between your fingers, taking in all of his memories that have been exhausted on the threads.

You hear him walking over and you drop your thoughts about the blanket, not wanting to pry into more of his distressing past. He kneels, picking up the blanket and sliding next to you, your bodies touching in an instant. Turning your attention away from the blanket, you look up to see your love is shirtless, moving around in the bedroll, trying to be more comfortable at your side.

You know just how insecure he is about his scars from Cazador, that disgusting, vile, treacherous bitch, but it was so lovely to see him stepping out of his comfort zone. While you’re quick to notice this new change, he’s even quicker to notice your reaction. Diving back into his comfort charm, he smirks at you, loading a phrase to protect his vulnerable side.

“Like what you see, darling?” His eyes flutter to the side a bit, and you immediately notice his withdrawal from the conversation. With a calm and gentle hand, you caress his cheek, turning his attention back to you.

“I always love what I see…” You smile, your eyes looking at him in such a way that your face beams with pride, though you try to find a balance between that and neutral so as to not overwhelm him. To see just how much he trusts you, is willing to open up to you and be vulnerable… Your heart can barely take it. In a quiet voice you’re sure to check in on him, wanting to make sure he feels secure in his choice. “Don’t feel you have to do this for me though, okay?”

His hand reaches up to hold yours against his cold cheek, his stare suddenly becoming more present. “I wanted to.” His voice is low, his hand taking yours off his face as he leans in gently to kiss your palm. He kisses your forehead before moving to lie down, making himself comfortable in your small space.

You sit there for a moment, considering your options. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but you want him to be aware that you feel the same sense of shared comfort. As he turns to the side, looking at a book he left on the ground earlier, you move to remove your shirt, tossing it off to the side. He moves the book away from you both so you don’t roll into it in the night. Turning back to face you, he pauses, taking in the sight of your bare chest. He looks up at you, tilting his head, nearly asking you the same question you just asked him.

Before he can say anything, you lean slightly closer to him, your voice a loud whisper. “I wanted to.” His eyes soften, and you can tell he’s flattered by this display of intimacy. You begin to crawl under the old blanket with him, and he pulls you close, his hand around your waist. The feel of his cold, soft skin against your bare back is enough to send shivers down your spine, and you realize that this must be so close to what heaven feels like. His free hand reaches up and caresses your jaw before tangling in your hair, gently playing with it as he knows it helps you fall asleep.

Your hand rests on his bare chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat slowing down as he continues to relax in your care. You lie there for a while, trying to sleep, but something is keeping you awake. Perhaps it’s the looming threat that you could all die soon in brutally vicious ways, or the fact that you don’t want to waste a single second enjoying this time with your new lover. Suppose you’ll never truly know.

Regardless of what is keeping you up on this night, you begin to feel a little restless, unable to lie there in that position for too much longer without your arms going numb. You sit up a little, leaning on the arm you’ve been lying on, trying to not wake your companion. However, his body shifts with you, and it appears that he is still just as awake as you are.

“I didn't wake you, did I?” You whisper in a worried voice.

“Not in the slightest, my dear. Unable to sleep tonight, as I am sure you understand.”

You sigh, still leaning over him slightly, his hand that was once on your waist now drawing circles on your shoulder blade, the hand in your hair now resting on your hip. You want to speak, but you find yourself getting lost in the way his face looks in the moonlight peeking through his tent flap. It frames his face so perfectly, almost as if this scene was sculpted by the Gods. He notices your sudden distance, and he is quick to check in on you.

“Are you alright, love?” He asks, a tinge of concern in his voice, once again tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“Sorry… Yes, yes. More than alright.” You reassure him, not breaking your focus. A beat; he attempts to determine what’s on your mind. Thinking he’s found it, he smirks.

“Admiring how beautiful I am?”

“Yeah… Just looking at creases around your eyes…” You say in a loving tone, not even remotely aware of how backhanded the comment you just made sounds.

He begins to shuffle, pushing you away, offended by your lack of sincerity. “Alright, there’s no need-”

“No! Not like that.” You chuckle, snapping back into reality. You grab him, pulling him back to you, his head pressing back into the pillow below you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just-” You can’t stop yourself from laughing a little at the sight of your pouting partner underneath you.

You notice just how unamused he is, and you abruptly stop laughing, clearing your throat and composing yourself in a more serious manner. Your hand reaches up and the pad of your thumb brushes against his crows feet, your mind falling back into your feelings of love and adoration for him.

“The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh… The way your eyes sharpen when you’re glaring at me, like you are right now… The way they soften every time I walk in the room… I love those wrinkles, they’re such a beautiful part of you.” He relaxes again, taking in your words, though still unhappy at your mention of his wrinkles, making him feel old. Though, no matter how much he hates his aging characteristics being brought up, he will never turn away any form of flattery.

“Well, augh. You really are sweet, aren’t you? But I’m sure you like more of me than just my dreaded wrinkles.” He was definitely fishing for compliments, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t aware of just how much you wanted to smother him in loving words. You lean forward and kiss his crows feet on both sides, surprising him. Smiling, your thumb traces over his eyebrows, taking in their shape and feel.

“My eyebrows, really? Nothing else catching your eye?” He whines, his hands going back to resting on your shoulder blade and hip. He can feel your body shake as you laugh, your head falling forward towards his chest as you continue to giggle from his pouting. You bring your head back up, focusing on his face once more.

“One thing at a time, dearest.” You pause, analyzing the shape of his eyebrows. Just how sharp they are, how often he uses them to his advantage when he is charming people. As you continue to gaze at them, he raises one of them, making your heart go crazy.

“You’re so expressive. Your eyebrows are so perfectly shaped, the way you use them like a weapon… I know it’s silly, I know they’re just eyebrows, but they’re your eyebrows, and they mean so much to me.” You trail off, your face flushed with embarrassment as you realize just how overly sentimental your words are. He smiles at you, knowing just how hard you’re trying, and appreciating every second of it. You kiss his eyebrows before quickly moving on.

Your fingers trace along his face, noticing his mole. By now he’s exhausted, you’re three for three with things he’s sensitive about. “Darling, if this is your way of making me feel less upset about not being able to look in mirrors, I must say it’s starting to work.” His words deceive his face and body language, but you still try to abide by his wishes.

Wanting to show your love, without spending too much time on it, you mention how much the mole under his eye suits him, how he would almost seem incomplete without a beauty spot. The usage of ‘beauty’ in ‘beauty spot’ convinced him to let it slide, but the ice you were dreamily skating on was wearing thin. Kissing his mole, you move on once again.

The skin of his nose was soft as you trace the pad of your finger down the bridge of his nose. “Your nose… it’s so sharp. Don’t laugh, but one of my favorite feelings is when I wake up and your nose is either on my back or my neck. I can feel your breathing on my skin, your nose pressed against me while you sleep. It’s so calming, having any little part of you so close to me.” He looks at you a little confused, mostly due to the fact that you’re still here appreciating him. The things you’re saying, they’re so small and insignificant, yet you enunciate each word like it’s the most important thing you’ll ever say. Each word has a purpose, a meaning, and they fall out of your mouth effortlessly; something he still has yet to learn how to do.

You kiss the tip of his nose, your fingers tracing down his face to his smile lines. Oh his smile lines. You just can’t help but adore his smile lines, no matter how much he absolutely hates them. He hates them because they age him, but you love them for all the same reason. To know he laughs, smiles, has any semblance of being happy is enough for you to be overjoyed at the sight of these lines that prove the existence that he has been able to enjoy life enough to have physical proof on his face.

“Don’t you dare.” He teases, though you wish he could bear with you for just a moment to explain your thoughts. Figuring you could do it another time, as tonight has already had enough excitement, you kiss his smile lines and spare him from your honeyed words.

Last, but certainly not least: his lips. Your thumb traces over his lips which are closed together, gently pushing up just enough to where you wonder if he was trying to secretly kiss your thumb. As you continue to run your thumb over his lips, reminiscing on all the times your own experienced his, he takes you by surprise.

Removing the hand from your hip, his thumb graces your lips, and you find yourself trying to inconspicuously kiss at it like he did to you just moments ago. You open your mouth to speak, but he uses his finger to silence you, gently shushing you.

“My turn.” His voice is smooth and tender as his thumb continues to trace over your slightly parted lips. “Your lips… They have always been so soft and inviting.” He pauses, still staring at them.

“I must admit, I despised them at first.” A confused expression crosses your face just before he continues. “They would taunt me on a daily basis, the one thing I couldn’t have no matter how much charm I threw at you. When I was eventually graced with them, I loathed the way my name would be cried out from them, almost as if you were saying it like a prayer. It tore me apart, wanting something I wasn’t sure I actually wanted, or even felt like I deserved…” He trails off, though his gaze remains constant on you.

“How do they make you feel now?” You softly ask, just barely loud enough for even yourself to hear.

He thinks on this for a moment, searching for the proper word.

“Safe.”

He leans up to you, cupping your cheek as he kisses you, the most delicate and loving kiss you two have ever shared. You both pull from the kiss, exercising restraint and respect for your pre-established boundaries. A hand resting on his chest, you encourage him to lie back on the pillow once more, which he does. You lean forward, kissing every part of his face that you mentioned, as well as a few spots just because you wanted to. Kissing his lips again, you pull apart just enough to whisper against his lips.

“I admire everything about you. Every aspect of you is just so lovely… Thank you for being here, with me. I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

He smiles, his fangs poking out this time. His hand moves a strand of hair out of your face as he clears his throat.

“And thank you for all the kisses.” He says, resuming his usual charm. You try to hide your slight disappointment, but you know he is trying his best and you can’t expect him to always meet you halfway, especially in this time of healing.

“Always.” You whisper, lying down next to him as he wraps his arms around you, holding you closely. It’s late, and now that you have this feeling lifted off your chest, you find it easier to sleep. Your heart rate begins to slow, your breathing finding its usual pattern, your lover wrapped up tightly with you.

When you’re on the edge of falling asleep, you feel his head tilting down towards yours, which is resting on his chest. His lips kiss the top of your head, his chin then resting on that same spot. A quiet voice breaks the air, unaware that it still has an audience.

“I love you.”

You freeze, unsure of whether or not you have actually fallen into a dream state, or if you just heard him correctly. In this state of grogginess, your body shifts as you attempt to determine the truth.

“Shit. Did you hear that?”

“Mhm.” You sleepily groan. He lets out a sigh of relief, thinking he’s talking to you in your sleep like he has before. Settling further into the bedroll, making himself more comfortable, he pulls you tighter, finally deciding to rest.

“I love you too.” You break the silence, your voice more awake this time. His eyes flash open, his red irises laser focused on you. You can feel his heart pounding as you rest on his chest, and you lean over and kiss just above his heart.

“Safe.” Is all you can say before promptly passing out, your warm skin slowly heating up his own. He sits there for another moment, taking in the events of today. It was a lot, to say the least, but he felt comfortable and confident in his decisions, and that was almost truly a first for him. His hand finds its way back into your hair, stroking it as he begins to drift off to sleep, for the first time in a long time feeling comfortable, guarded, protected, safe.

Author’s Note:

He’s extremely OOC, I’m 95% sure lmao but I love making characters total softies, even if we don’t see that side of them in the media they’re from. (I'm still in the very beginning of Act 2 so I'm learning a lot about him through this site too)

I’ve never experienced love, I’m also sure that’s obvious- I’ve always wanted to do something like this with someone though (look at their face and kiss all my favorite spots). While I was writing this, I felt so awkward writing such sappy dialogue, but I realized that moments like these aren’t smooth and rehearsed; feelings get mushy and oftentimes people say dumb and dorky things because they’re just so in love. I hope it gets translated that way at least hahaha

My Spotify is fucked because I listen to specific songs on repeat whenever I write. I have probably about 4-5 hours of “Blue Moon” by Billie Holiday logged on there now because of all the time planning, writing, and thinking about this fic- I got this song from Neil’s Astarion playlist, it’s so sweet and loving :)

Edit: So many people are saying he’s actually pretty in character so thank you for the validation because I was nervous 😭

2K notes · View notes

soulofapatrick · 4 months

Text

Falling Into You - Stiles Stilinski x Female Reader

Summary: you and stiles finally give into your unknown crush on each other

Words: 2.6K

Warning: Heated makeout session; if you squint there's dry humping

Y/N’s POV

Living with Stiles has been far from boring. Ever since my dad was killed and my younger brother - Isaac - went to live with Derek, Sheriff Noah Stilinski graciously opened his home to me. That meant living with Stiles too, and let me tell you, it has been anything but dull. Stiles has this knack for turning even the most mundane day into a storytelling session filled with the antics he and Scott get up to.

I’ve grown to love it here. The Stilinski house is like a second home, and the sheriff is like a second dad to me. He’s been incredibly supportive, especially during the tough times. And then there’s Stiles. He’s… well, he’s Stiles. Quirky, witty and always wearing that mischievous grin.

Lately, though, something’s shifted. I’ve caught myself stealing glances at Stiles when he’s not looking. His passion for solving mysteries, his loyalty to his friends—there’s something undeniably endearing about him. Maybe it’s the way he cares for everyone around him, or the way he throws himself into every insane situation without hesitation. But it's more than that. There's a warmth in his laughter, a genuineness in his concern, that makes my heart flutter a bit faster. And as much as I try to ignore it, I can't deny that a crush has been slowly blossoming.

Living under the same roof, it’s hard to keep these feelings under wraps. I find myself wanting to spend more time around him, hoping for moments where it’s just the two of us, away from the chaotic everyday that is Beacon Hills. Yet, I’m also terrified. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if it ruins our friendship or makes things awkward while living with him?

Stiles is currently sat cross legged on my bed, looking so engrossed in whatever supernatural mystery he's delving into. His dedication is admirable, even if it means sacrificing proper posture for the sake of research. I can't help but steal glances at him every now and then, admiring the furrow in his brow as he concentrates.

I wish I could tell him how I feel. But the fear of ruining what we currently have, the fear of changing the dynamic between us, it’s suffocating. So instead, I go back to focusing on my assignment, the words blurring on the page as my thought drift back to him.

The room is quiet except for the clicking of keys and the occasional muttered comment from Stiles. As I sit at my desk, trying to concentrate on the assignment in front of me, my mind wandering again—this time an entirely different scenario and it’s one that feels both exhilarating and terrifying.

I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to set aside the fear and uncertainty, to sit next to Stiles and lean in, closing the distance between us. What would it be like to press my lips against Stiles’? Would they be as soft as they look, as warm as his laugh? My heart races at the mere thought, a flurry of emotions dancing within me.

I picture the moment vividly: closing the space between us, feeling the warmth of his breath mingling with mine, and the anticipation before our lips meet. I imagine his hands, tentative yet steady, finding their place on my skin, maybe on the curve of my cheek or the small of my back. How would it feel to have his touch ignite a thousand sparks, to feel the electricity between us?

There’s a mix of longing and hesitation, the desire to experience that connection, yet the fear of disrupting the comfortable equilibrium we've found in our friendship. But in my mind's eye, it's a beautiful chaos—a leap into the unknown, a chance to explore something deeper, something that might exist beyond our late-night conversations and shared moments.

Before I can continue imagining me and Stiles the said boy breaks my thoughts, “Hey Y/N! Come here,” He speaks, excitement in his voice but his eyes never once leaving the screen.

I force myself out of the reverie, blinking away the vivid daydreams as Stiles called out to me. His excitement is palpable, contagious even, and I push aside the rush of emotions to focus on the present.

I rise from my chair, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and nervousness as I make my way to where Stiles is seated. He’s still hunched over the laptop, his attention entirely captured by the screen. With a careful step, I settle on the bed behind him, leaning over him enough to rest my chin on his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s got him so intrigued.

His warmth seeps through the fabric of his shirt, radiating against my chest, a sensation I try desperately to ignore. The scent that envelopes me—a blend of old books, faint traces of motor oil and a lingering hint of coffee—should be distracting, but it’s oddly comforting. It’s quintessentially Stiles, a unique combination that feels inexplicably familiar and reassuring.

I glance at the screen, feigning interest in whatever supernatural phenomenon has grabbed his attention. But truthfully, my focus wavers between trying to understand what he’s showing me and the proximity between us. His presence feels magnetic, drawing me in, yet I fight the urge to let my thoughts drift into forbidden territory.

“Look at this,” He exclaims, pointing to a section on the screen. His enthusiasm is infectious, and for a moment, I forget the inner turmoil, getting lost in his excitement.

Stiles is engrossed in explaining something on the screen, his energy palpable. I try my best to keep up, nodding along as he talks, but the proximity between us amplifies every emotion within me.

Suddenly, he turns his head, excitement lighting up his russet eyes as he tries to make a point. His words trail off mid-sentence, and in that suspended moment, our faces are unexpected close. I feel his breath, warm against my skin, a sensation that sends a shiver down my spine.

As if in slow motion, I notice every tiny detail—the freckles scattered across his pale skin, the way his eyes dart down to my lips for the briefest moment before meeting my gaze again. My breath catches in my throat, and I’m sure he can heart the erratic beat of my heart. There's a shift in the air, an unspoken tension that crackles between us. His cheeks flush with colour, a shade of red that matches the intensity of my own emotions. I can't tear my gaze away from him, from the way his eyes flicker between mine and the way his lips part, as if searching for words that elude him.

For a moment, time seems suspended, our silent exchange speaking volumes. I feel a surge of courage and vulnerability intertwine within me, a silent plea for something more, a leap into the unknown.

But just as quickly as the moment arrives, it slips away. Stiles blinks, breaking the trance, and clears his throat, shifting slightly away. "Um, sorry, got carried away there," he stammers, his voice a tad higher than usual.

The air feels charged with an awkward tension, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. I try to ease the discomfort by standing up, intending to head back to my desk and salvage what’s left of our usual camaraderie. But before I can even take a step, Stiles’ hand shoots out, wrapped around my wrist in a swift motion that catches me off guard.

Caught off guard by the sudden proximity, I stumble and practically find myself in Stiles's lap. His warmth envelopes me, and for a moment, our heartbeats synchronise in a chaotic rhythm that seems to echo the unspoken emotions between us.

Stiles’ eyes lock onto mine, a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability swirling within their depths. His tongue darts out to wet his pretty pink lips, a nervous gesture that betrays the intensity of the moment. Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, his hand finds the back of my neck, drawing me closer.

In that heartbeat before our lips meet, the world around us seems to still. His touch sends a surge of electricity through me, igniting a fire that I didn’t know was simmering within. And then, finally, our lips touch in a kiss that feels both anticipated and inevitable.

As our embrace intensifies, the laptop becomes a mere afterthought, pushed aside to make way for the burgeoning heat between us. Stiles's movements are deliberate, his hands finding my hips with a confident touch, guiding me to straddle his lap as our bodies mold together.

The kiss deepens, the connection between us sparking a newfound intensity. Stiles’ hands, warm against my skin, slip under the fabric of my teeshirt, sending shivers cascading down my spine. His touch is electric, fingers tracing patterns along my hips, a gentle yet possessive hold that ignites a fire within me. I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, feeling the soft strands between my fingertips as I tilt his head back slightly, deepening the kiss. There’s a dominance in his action, a confidence that surprises me but also excites me in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

His lips move with purpose, fervent and seeking, a silent demand for more as our breaths mingle in the shared space between us. Each movement, each touch, feels like an unspoken confession of desires long kept hidden.

My heart races as I lean into him, relishing the sensation of his lips against mine, the way his body responds to my touch. And as I lose myself in the passion of the moment, it becomes clear that Stiles, despite his usual playful demeanour, possesses a commanding presence that takes my breath away.

As the intensity of the moment heightens, Stiles’ touch remains both from and reassuring, his hands guiding me with a tenderness that contrasts his newfound dominance. With a gentle yet firm pressure, his long, nimble fingers press against my back, coaxing me to lower myself onto him. There’s an undeniable pull in his touch, drawing me closer until I’m lying atop him, our chests pressing together in a shared rhythm. Our breaths mingle in the small space between y=us, the heat of the moment making the air around us feel charged.

His chest rises and falls with each breath, syncing with mine, creating an unspoken harmony. The sensation of our bodies pressed together sends jolt through me, an electric current that ignites every nerve ending.

As I rest against him, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat against mine, a rush of emotions floods over me—desire mingled with a newfound intimacy, vulnerability meshed with a sense of comfort in this uncharted territory.

Stiles's gaze holds a mixture of passion and tenderness, a silent understanding passing between us in the shared silence. His fingers trace gentle patterns along my back, a gesture that speaks volumes, conveying a reassurance amidst the fervour of the moment. His lips part as if to speak but instead, in a very Stiles fashion, a torrent of words spill out in a hurried stream.

“I-I've wanted to do this for so long, and I'm sorry, I should've asked, I mean, I wanted to ask, but then this moment happened, and I just... I didn't want to ruin it, but I should’ve—" He babbles, the words tumbling out faster than I can comprehend. His apology mixes with an admission that he’s wanted this as much as I have, and amidst his rambling, I can’t help but laugh softly, finding the sudden flood of words endearing.

Before his apologies and explanations can continue, I decide to silence him the best way I know how. With a gentle yet decisive motion, I cup his face in both hands, capturing his lips in a kiss that speaks volumes, stealing away his words and replacing them with the silent language of our shared desires.

The kiss is deliberate interruption, a way to convey everything I’ve been feeling in a single moment. It’s a tender yet firm assertion, an assurance that words are unnecessary amidst the eloquence of our connection.

As our lips meet, I feel a shift in the air, the nervous energy dissipating into something more serene. Stiles’ initial surprise melts into a reciprocated warmth, and soon, the kiss becomes a dance of shared affection and unspoken apologies. In that suspended moment, the kiss becomes a story of its own—a narrative of unspoken emotions conveyed through the gentle meeting of our lips. Stiles's initial surprise gives way to a newfound ease, his lips molding against mine with a familiarity that feels surprisingly natural yet exhilaratingly new.

His touch, tender yet assured, ignites a cascade of sensations. His hands explore, tracing the contours of my back, sending tingles racing along my skin. There’s a delicate balance in his touch, a mix of reverence and longing that speaks volumes about the dept of his emotions.

As our kiss deepens, I’m enveloped in a whirlwind of emotions. Stiles’ lips against mine feel like a discovery—a blend of softness and fervour, an unspoken language that surpasses any verbal communication. Each movement of our lips is a revelation, a testament to the unspoken connection between us. His closeness has a gravitational pull, drawing me in and enveloping me in a sense of security and desire. In this moment, I feel cherished, desired, and seen in a way that goes beyond mere words.

The intensity of our kiss, a universe of emotions contained within, is abruptly interrupted by the jarring ring of Stiles’ phone. Startled, we break apart, a shared groan escaping both of us as the moment fractures, replacing by the intrusion of reality. Stiles fumbles for his phone, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. With a sigh, he answers and puts it on speaker, revealing Scott’s urgent voice on the other end, asking if Stiles had found any leads.

As Stiles responds to Scott’s inquiries, I take the opportunity to sit back up, adjusting my position so that I’m straddling his waist. The shift seems to catch Stiles of guard, his breath hitching slightly, and I can feel the bulge pressing against my ass. I watch as Stiles bites his lip, a subtle attempt to suppress any involuntary sounds, his focus divided between the phone call and me, shifting on his lap. His eyes meet mine for a fleeting moment, and I can see a hint of frustration at the interruption, mixed with a smouldering intensity that sends a thrill through me.

Leaning closer, I offer an apologetic smile, silently acknowledging the disruption but unable to resist teasing him but grinding my hips against his, pretending to get more comfortable on his lap. I notice the way his breath catches again and his hands dart for my hips unsure if they want to stop my hips or help me roll them against that growing bulge.

“Sh-shit,” A moan escapes him and Scott falls silent as Stiles’ cheeks bloom a pretty shade of red, “Fuck, I gotta go, talk later.” And with that Stiles is hanging up, practically throwing his phone on the floor and in one quick moment has us flipped over so I’m laying underneath him.

“Hi.” I breathe quietly, an ache between my legs.

“Don’t you ‘hi’ me you little tease.” He grumbles, leaning on his elbows either side of my head.

“What you gonna do about it?” I challenge, loving the gleam in his eyes.

Stiles chuckles softly, his eyes dancing with mischief as he leans closer, his breath brushing against my lips.

"Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you've started."

Teen Wolf Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

548 notes · View notes

mcverse · 1 year

Note

hi!!!! i have a req for neteyam x na’vi reader with a “marriage of convenience” trope. where reader does genuinely try to make it work with neteyam, but after months of being shut down she stops trying after talking to kiri. neteyam has always treated reader as a duty to be fulfilled, but LOWKEY has feelings for her he keeps SUPPRESSSSEDDDDD. however, after one of readers good friends from another clan visits, neteyams jealousy gets hold of him. you could make the rest however you’d like, but happy ending please🫶🏽

Pairings: Neteyam x F! Na’vi! Reader

Type: One Shot

Word count: 3.1K

Warnings: Angst, Miscommunication, slight jealous, not proof read, edited to fix mess ups

Side Bar: You’re amazing for requesting this! Thank you!!!

Avatar Masterlist

please keep in mind that all characters in my stories are always 18+, and although I can't monitor who reads my work, if you are not 18+ I advise that you do not engage in my page or stories.

Love, that elusive and mysterious emotion, has captivated you since you first heard about it. The concept of love is a feeling of warmth, passion, and a connection that's deeper than anything else, impossible to ignore. It's terrifying and exhilarating, often filled with moments of joy, uncertainty, and vulnerability.

But falling in love? That's a whole different story. It's like the world suddenly shifts into a whole new perspective. Colors are brighter, sounds are louder, and everything you didn't care about before suddenly becomes beautiful and captivating.

Your thoughts, your mind, your body - everything is consumed by the object of your affection. No amount of daydreaming or silly little creepy crawlers in your tummy could ever prepare you for finally being seen by them, for being loved by them.

It's tragic that not everyone has the luxury of falling in love for themselves. In many clans, people come together for the benefits of both parties. Love becomes an afterthought when situations arise, and it breaks your heart. It's almost like love becomes foreign to them, despite having found it on their own.

But to be forced into a relationship of convenience, not truly knowing the other person, is frightening and challenging. They're a stranger, and it feels so wrong to love them. It's like they weren't made for you, like Eywa didn't create them for you. And it hurts. It's a deep, stabbing pain in your chest that never truly goes away.

Why is it that anyone but you is allowed to love who they want?

The thought reverberates in your mind, a constant reminder of the burden you bear. Love, the very essence of Na’vi emotion, was supposed to be a choice, a right, not a privilege granted by duty. But there you are, trapped in a loveless relationship, forced into a union that you never wanted.

"It's your duty," they told you, as if that was supposed to make it easier. As if it was supposed to alleviate the guilt and the pain. "You will learn to love Neteyam, the chief of the Omaticaya Clan." It was always for the greater good, always about the needs of the clan. "This alliance will strengthen the Na'vi, it is the will of your father."

But what about your will? What about your heart? You didn't want to learn to love someone; it wasn't realistic, it was forced. The very idea of it was distressing, and it made you sick just thinking about it.

You knew, deep down, that it wasn't about how you felt, though.

It was clear as you saw your future mate leave your shared hut hurriedly, feeling the weight of the unspoken understanding between you. He was just as much a victim of this situation as you were, and it was obvious that love was an afterthought to him, just as it was to your people. You were just a means to an end, a pawn in a game that you never asked to play.

But you had to play along, no matter how unbearable it got. You sought him out against your better judgement, watching him like always from the distance at first. It was justified, your future mate was intimidating in both height and build. If he wanted to, he could break you easily, ridding you of existence due to your constant annoyance over the past few months.

When you finally work up the nerve, the training session have ended and you use that time approach him, fiddling with the small basket of Yovo fruits, “Ma Neteyam,” you called out to him, grabbing his attention immediately.

He tenses up, his face hardening as he motions with his head for the last young warrior to leave before giving his attention back to you, “Ma [Name], what are you doing here?” He asked, eyes flickering to the basket. His hands twitched by his side but remained there.

“I knew you would be training hard, Neteyam, so I thought I'd bring you a treat," you said, smiling up at him. You cringed inwardly at how needy you must look, reminding yourself why you had to get along with him.

Neteyam's lips formed a tight line, and his forehead creased as if he were pondering something difficult. Finally, he bowed his head to you. "That's kind of you," he said, his eyes drifting off to the side. "But I don't want any. Perhaps the trainees would?"

You could tell he was playing the nice card, as he always did. What he really meant was, "I don't want anything from you." Your ears flattened against your head in disappointment, and you lowered the basket.

"Of course," you said, trying to hide your disappointment. "What a great idea. Do you mind giving it to them then?" You raised the basket, suddenly feeling the weight of it more heavily than before, and offered it to him.

As Neteyam took the basket from you, you couldn't help but feel a small spark of hope. Maybe this time would be different. But as his fingers brushed yours, you felt him pull away as if your touch was toxic. His reaction stung, but you tried to hide it as he turned away from you.

"Of course," he muttered, barely looking at you.

You couldn't stand how he was treating you. It seemed like no matter how hard you tried, he was always shutting you out. You couldn't help but wonder if he was even trying to make this work.

You were caught between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, you couldn't force him to love you, but on the other hand, you couldn't bear the thought of being alone if he doesn’t come around. The fact that this was all just for the benefit of your clans didn't make it any easier.

You tried to salvage the conversation, “Will I see you for dinner?” You tried again to make the effort, only to be shot down immediately, no hesitation whatsoever.

“I have patrols. Don’t wait up.” He left soon after, leaving you frustrated and hopeless. Nothing you ever do is reaching him, was he made out of actual rock?

It's annoying how one-sided everything feels.

You always initiate contact, never the other way around. You bring him gifts, participate in his customs and traditions, and cook for him, only to be met with silence or absence. And yet, you continue to do it all with a forced smile, hoping that one day he'll see your effort and reciprocate.

But the reality is, you don't know how much longer you can keep up this charade of a marriage. From the outside, it's a picture-perfect union, respected by all. But inside, you barely speak to each other and can't stand being in the same room together for more than a few minutes. It's like there's too much space, yet you feel suffocated at the same time.

You expressed how you felt later that day with Kiri, as you always do. She, along with her youngest brother, Lo’ak understood what it was like to feel different from her people—soon to be your people. So it felt right confiding in her, knowing she gets you when your future mate doesn’t make the effort to try.

Kiri sat next to you, intently fixing a necklace for one of the clanmates who had messed up. As she worked, she spoke softly, "That's unlike my brother, I don't understand why he's acting like this towards you." She gave you a sympathetic look before continuing, "I know it's frustrating, but give it some more time."

You couldn't help but let out a frustrated huff, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. "That's all I've been giving. When is enough time enough?" you asked, your voice tinged with annoyance. You knew you weren't exaggerating or imagining things.

Kiri paused her work, considering your words for a moment before offering a suggestion. "Perhaps you need to approach it differently. Focus on yourself, as he focuses on the village. Maybe then he'll realize that he should have been focused on you too."

You looked at her with surprise, not expecting such wise advice from her. As she placed the finished necklace on the low table, you smiled genuinely for once, feeling a glimmer of hope. This was the best advice she had ever given you, and you knew it was time to stop waiting for him to come to you and start putting your own feelings first.

After thanking Kiri and complimenting her handiwork, you left her hut feeling a sense of relief wash over you. The air felt fresher and lighter, as if the weight of your worries had been lifted off your shoulders.

From that moment on, you threw yourself back into your tsakarem training, determined to become a skilled and respected member of the Omaticaya clan. By immersing yourself in their culture and customs, you began to feel a deeper connection to both the people and the land.

This newfound sense of belonging also opened up new opportunities for you to assist with the day-to-day tasks of the tribe, and in return, they offered their guidance and support to help you adjust to your new way of life.

The perfect example would be currently, where you were in your hut crushing herbs that Tuk had brought you after hearing you asking about them. You were actually happy knowing Neteyam’s family were warming up to you. But Neteyam was still distant.

As you crushed the herb, you couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration and hurt. You had heard countless stories about the Omaticaya chief, Neteyam, and his unwavering loyalty and attentiveness to his people. Yet, when it came to you, his soon-to-be mate, he seemed to give you the cold shoulder.

You had tried to make him a priority in your life, but it seemed like he didn't feel the same way. Why did he get to act like he didn't want you while you had to pine after him? It didn't make sense to you, especially since you were in an arranged marriage for the sake of your clans' alliance.

As you were lost in thought, you were startled by the sound of your hut's entrance swooshing open. You looked up to see Aeknim, one of your close friends from your old home, smiling at you. "[Name], I was hoping you were here!" he exclaimed, taking a seat across the low table from you.

“Aeknim, what are you doing here?” You asked, curious about the goofy grin on his face. You haven’t seen him since you left, to come out of the blue must be important.

He chuckled, raising his head high, “I have found a worthy mate.” He proudly said, patting his chest with his right hand for a job well done.

You put down the pestle you were holding and clasped his hands in yours, "That's amazing news, my friend! Tell me all about her." As he shared the details of his new love, you couldn't help but feel happy for him.

Aeknim spent the afternoon telling you all about his new mate while you caught up on old times. You even forgot about your tsakarem training for the day, knowing that there were other healers in the village who could cover for you. One day wouldn’t hurt.

As night fell and it was time for Aeknim to depart, you walked him to the edge of the village to say goodbye. You ignored the curious glances from your fellow villagers as you hugged your friend tightly and bid him farewell, wishing him well on his journey and sending him off with some healing ointment in case he needed it.

When you approached your hut coming back, you noticed Neteyam standing in front of it, his expression inscrutable as he watched you approach with a predatory gaze. You tilted your head up to meet his eyes, wondering what had brought him here.

Without preamble, he demanded, "Who was that?"

Confused, you asked, "Who was who?"

Neteyam inhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tensing as he closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, they blazed with an intensity that made you take a step back. "The man you were walking around the village with," he said, his voice deeper than usual as he stepped closer to you. He bent his head, allowing a few braids to fall into his face. "That's who I'm talking about."

You recoiled at the sudden change in Neteyam's demeanor. The tension emanating from him was uncomfortable and you couldn't maintain eye contact with him any longer. As you tried to process his words, you looked away.

Aeknim was the man he was referring to, but you couldn't fathom why Neteyam was so bothered by you walking with him. You decided to meet his intense gaze again, but his eyes, usually a bright yellow, were darker and it made you shudder.

"Yes, Aeknim came to visit me," you confirmed, hoping to dispel any misunderstandings.

"He came to see you?" he repeated, furrowing his brow in confusion. He leaned back slightly and asked, "Why did he come to see you?"

You paused for a moment, caught off guard by his sudden interest in your life. You couldn't recall a time when Neteyam cared about what you did or who you spent time with, and it annoyed you that he was being so attentive now.

"Why does that matter to you?" you asked, your tone defensive as you tried to keep the frustration out of your voice. You noticed his tail swishing behind him aggressively, and it only served to make you more uneasy.

Neteyam didn’t like what he was hearing. No, he didn’t like what he was seeing. His mate was defending another male, it made him sick inside and angry… the only male you should be protecting is him.

"You are my mate--" he began, but you cut him off, your ears flattening against your head at his words. You could feel your own anger rising, a fierce determination filling you.

"Yet, I am not your mate yet," you corrected him, standing your ground. You had done nothing wrong, so where was this interrogation coming from? It was almost as if he had lost his mind.

Eywa help him.

Neteyam shook his head, his braids swaying with the movement. "Now and then, you are my mate!" he spat, his face scrunched up in disgust. "Who visits my mate late into the night is my concern. You are my concern."

“You have an interesting way of showing concern for your mate, especially over the last few months,” you retorted, holding back a scoff as you watched confusion flash across Neteyam's face.

“Did you forget? Because I certainly haven't,” you continued, your expression softening slightly as you finally allowed your exhaustion to show.

It had been a constant struggle trying to reach him, and now is the time you choose to feel vulnerable, “You've been distant while I've been trying to connect with you. Not cold, necessarily, but you might as well have been with your absence.”

Neteyam's face softened as realization dawned on him as you continued, “I had to learn how to live here from people other than you. Your family has been around more than you have.” You finished, waiting for a response, but he simply stood there, eyes lowered towards the ground.

This time your scoff freely at him, honestly disappointed. You thought this conversation was getting somewhere, somehow to a point where you can come to some sort of agreement but there he goes again avoiding you.

Having enough of him, you brush pass him to enter the hut, “Of course, you have nothing to say.” You expected him to leave after that, like he does every morning to get away from you but he enters behind you, his expression morphed into determination.

“I have nothing to say,” he started, standing in the doorway, despite his expression, his body betrayed him as he’s slightly hunched over and his ears a deep purple, “because I don’t know how else to act with the one who I’ve already fallen in love with, but haven’t fallen for me yet.”

His words catch you off guard, and you turn to face him fully, shoulders losing its tenseness, “What?” You can’t believe he just said that. He loves you?

“I’ve noticed you more than you noticed me. I know that your actions mean nothing to you, while if I returned them, it would mean everything to me.” He started walking towards you, “I know your feelings you display towards me are not genuine. I know you don’t want to mate with me. I know and still can’t help but fall.” He stops a feet away from you, eyes trailing over your face.

“How can I do those things knowing what it means to me, that you don’t see me like I see you.” He finished, looking you in the eyes. There they were, bright yellow, nothing like the other harsh color. He looked as you expectedly, gentle, yearning and vulnerable.

Your throat tightened with emotion as you gazed up at him. His confession was a shock, but a welcome one. It was as though a veil had been lifted, and you saw him in a new light. Perhaps you had been blind to his feelings, too caught up in your own concerns. Perhaps you had been the one in the wrong all along, insensitive to his emotions, and acting selfishly.

Looking at Neteyam now, you saw a man baring his soul to you. He was hoping for your acceptance and understanding, acknowledging his mistakes and making an effort to set them right. You saw him in a new light: gentle, kind, compassionate, and fierce - just as all the stories said.

How could you have missed this before?

"I had no idea," you said, your voice quivering with emotion as tears welled up in your eyes. "I was so focused on my own desires that I neglected to ask about your true feelings."

Neteyam shook his head, "It was my fault for not showing you how I truly felt. If I had, we wouldn't be in this position now."

You chuckled softly, tilting your head down as you brushed a stray hair behind your ear. "You're right about that," you said, reaching out to take his hand in yours. Bringing it to your chest, you looked up at him with a shy smile. "But it doesn't matter. I see you, Neteyam. All of you."

Neteyam's eyes lit up, a goofy grin spreading across his face. He looked so handsome and carefree, and you couldn't help but think that this was what had been holding him back all this time.

"I see you too, [Name]. I always have," he said, pulling you close to him. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours in a long-awaited kiss.

Maybe you can learn to love him, wholeheartedly and authentically.

Edit: Thank you for all the likes and reblogs! Means a lot ❤️ Helpful hint for reblogs, be sure to add # to be found

Avatar M.List

New post : all my life I had to fight, Lo’ak x human! reader

3K notes · View notes

febuary30thday · 1 year

Text

Flora, Fauna

Okay, but I'm imagining a demon reader, who uses chlorokinesis as her BDA. But the catch is that she seems so comforting and warm with no ill intention until it's too late.

She is the New Upper Moon Six as a replacement for Daki and Gyutaro, and very often interacts with the Uppermoons so they happen to go yandere for her.

This man is powerful, and he very often makes it known.

He's a cold, terrifying demon who cares very little about human emotions.

He's ruthless and strict, so he bottles up his heart

So, when he meets his....match? He's not letting go.

When you were first introduced as an Upper Moon, he didn't think much of it

He just acknowledged your presence and that was it

That changed when he stumbled upon you devouring an entire village of people, still looking elegant and poised

That surprised him slightly, normally all the demons all crazy when it comes to battle, and let themselves go

He is humble, and you ask him to join you in your feeding session.

With that elegant smile on your face, how can he say no?

You are quiet and he finds himself enjoying your presence more and more

You carry yourself in a very elegant way, and over time, he falls in love.

But then things get dark from there.

He doesn't want you to leave him, always accompanying you when you hunt for humans, using his position against you, and not allowing you to interact with the other Uppermoons, and his threats are not empty promises.

"Kokushibo, I need to leave, I'm going to go hunt."

"I'm coming with you."

"There is no need. I insist I can go by myself. I'm not going to die."

"That wasn't up for discussion."

Good luck with him.

(He is so daddy. I'm sorry, but he is)

Muzan isn't loving, he never has been

He believes he is the perfect being, and that you are an extension of his perfection

Anything you do, connects back to him

He can read your thoughts and read your emotions and actions very well, so he can basically read you like an open book

This man sees potential in you, so you receive much more blood from him, and are promoted to the status of an Uppermoon.

He's seen your blood demon art before, but can't find it important enough to remember what it is

All he remembers is your carnage and chaos he had stumbled upon as you killed the last human in the village

He didn't bother caring about you

Until once again, he stumbled upon your chaos, only this time, he got to observe it, firsthand

He watched as you danced calmly in the streets, your voice ringing a strangely sweet sound in his ears

As people came out of their homes and watched, listened to you, enraptured by your voice

It was annoying watching you, so he went to leave until he heard a scream

It ended just as abruptly as it began.

He wasn't mesmerized, but he did enjoy your rather fast and efficient way of killing, but then he watched in surprise as you placed a hand on the ground and a red spider lily bloomed

He calls you over.

"My Lord! Forgive me for not noticing your presence earlier."

My darling, please tell me, what it was that you just did.

"Please forgive me, My Lord! I didn't mean to..."

"Answer me."

"Do you mean when I bloomed the spider lily? Did that inconvenience you, My Lord?"

"Tell me, what other flowers can you bloom?"

"Anything I wish, My Lord! I just need to know what it looks like and then I can make it!"

"No matter how rare?"

"No matter how rare, Muzan-sama!"

"My dear, you've done well. I have one simple task for you, if you can complete it, I'll be extremely proud of you."

"Anything!"

"Can you make me a blue Spider Lily?"

"Yes! Of course Muzan-sama!"

Out of simple excitement, you made quite an abundance of them, and he scooped you up and the flowers with one hand an all-to-knowing smile on his face.

"Good job, my perfect darling."

You are never leaving his grasp again.

"I wonder when Muzan-sama is going to let me leave." You thought, a puzzled expression on your face.

There was a smirk on his face as he studied the flower, not truly believing that this was real, and that it was all a fever dream.

"You don't get to leave, my darling. Stay in here and be a good girl, and I'll reward you with more of my blood."

This man can't feel a thing, so when he meets you and his heart skips a beat, he is instantly intrigued

You catch his attention pretty quickly, with how humble and elegant you are in comparison to him.

This man is flashy and sort of gaudy

He follows you around like a lost puppy

So much so, that Kokushibo has started to get annoyed with Douma following around his beloved

Even if Douma was assigned by Muzan to make sure you didn't step foot outside the Infinity Castle, that doesn't mean he could be obnoxious about it

Douma is very affectionate, so expect plenty of hugs and cuddling and stuff

He is forceful in his affections but you'll just have to learn to accept that!

What? What do you mean you need to leave and go hunt?

Muzna assigned him to make sure you stay alive and healthy and never leave

Don't be stubborn now!

He also occasionally leaves kisses on your cheeks, arms, and hands

Just because he's obsessed doesn't mean he's possessive, right?

Wrong.

He is clinging to you like a baby and legitimately feels discouraged when you aren't around

He guilt-trips you a lot

Fake crying, begging, the like, he has even ripped out his heart to offer it to you

You can use his vulnerability to your advantage, like crying as well, pouting, sulking

He hates seeing you sad, and when you are sad, he does his best to reassure you, even if it means he has to leave to get you food to bring back

He showers you in affection and makes his followers worship you too, proclaiming you a goddess because of how beautiful he thinks you are

He buys you everything and anything

He offers up his prey to you so you can eat together, thinks of it as a date

He loves spoiling you, so just don't leave him, alright?

"You don't get to leave, snowflake! I have all sorts of things planned for us today! Behave, okay?"

#yandere muzan #yandere kokushibo #yandere douma #yandere x reader #demon reader #upper moons #yandere douma x reader #yandere muzan x reader #yandere kokushibo x reader

1K notes · View notes

vixstarria · 2 months

Note

You know what I just realized? Astarion’s unending hunger for blood got replaced with unending hunger for power if he ascends. He absolutely has no need for Cazador’s palace or political connections now that he can travel in the sun, but he’s so obsessed with protecting himself he happily takes up residence in his abuser’s home, despite all the terrible memories in it because it’s perfect for a power grab.

Essentially.

Tbh I'm a bit surprised to find this in my inbox as I don't think I've really said anything on the Spawn vs Ascended Astarion route. Ultimately, it's all pixels and people can do whatever they want with them.

But, hey, sure, here's a little rant under the cut.

My biggest gripe with Ascended Astarion isn't even that he's evil, or that he may be in any way mistreating Tav, or that he's power hungry, or any of the other usual complaints people have about him.

It's that he's simply boring.

You start off with this theatrical goofball, who is also an evil little shit, sure, but a hilarious one, who's terrified and riddled with trauma, and who just wants to experience simple joys and be safe and autonomous again.

Spawn ending - what does Astarion do? Well, anything he bloody wants to, really. Look at some of @spacebarbarianweird's headcanons for examples. Maybe he's an adventurer, maybe he's leading a quiet life running a shop, maybe he's a pirate, maybe he's a dragon rider, maybe he's in the Underdark, maybe he's somewhere on the astral plane. Maybe he's got kids. Maybe he found a cure for vampirism. Maybe he found a way to walk in the sun with an artifact. (I would add that maybe he's gathering a 7,000-strong vampire army in the Underdark and trying his hand at taking over the world as a spawn after all, but we know he can't plan that well)

He's charismatic. He's loving. And he's still the little shit you initially fell in love with.

Meanwhile, what's Ascended Astarion doing up in his castle?

Paperwork.

Dealing with bureaucrats.

Hosting occasional balls for people he despises, where he sits on his throne stroking his comically overinflated ego. In the very same castle that he just spent 200 years wishing to escape.

I just don't understand the appeal.

The archetype is essentially that of a corrupt politician or a ruthless head of a corporation. It's lacking in empathy and completely void of any positive emotions. Power and money for the sake of power and money. This is not the type of character I find appealing or compelling whatsoever, whether in fiction or real life.

"Oh, but you're giving him what he really wants if you ascend him!"

You just turned your favourite character into a bland, heartless megalomaniac, trapping him just as much as the blood craving and sun vulnerability would have, if not more. 🤷‍♀️

P.S. Ironically, some of my favourite fanfics actually happen to be Ascended Astarion fics, so no, he doesn't have to be boring. The above picture is a summary of what is implied by the game, together with the general gist of most AA fics I've seen.

#asks #vix musings #astarion #ascended astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

122 notes · View notes

short-honey-badger · 2 months

Text

Peppermint Tea 29 - Chamomile

Heyyyy guyysss. So I am FINALLY back with an update. I've had some other works get in the way *Crocodile and Hazbin Hotel ahem*

I've worked on this when I can and it's a bit longer than my usual chapters. Sorta of an introspection chapter. Our girl has to do a lot of thinking. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! Also! I've used A LOT of the live action gifs. I'll be swapping to anime!

Warnings! None I don't think? Drinking.

Link to Ao3! -> Here

Masterlist

Being pregnant is weird. You ache in weird places, and your feet constantly hurt. You hated how emotional you'd become and how much you still longed for the familiar comfort of your boys. You missed the easy companionship and the warmth of their love for you. How they held you close whenever you wanted and went out of their way to bring you little gifts. But then you are reminded that Shanks and Mihawk are nothing but liars and are left wondering if anything that the three of you shared together meant something to them.

It's a horrible way to think, and it makes you feel guilty, but you can't help it. What else could they have lied to you about? Shanks had told you he loved you early on, but Mihawk had never uttered the words once, preferring to show you how much you meant to him. But were you just play thing with them? A convenient source for both men to use? You didn't know, and it made you even more upset thinking about it.

Your tummy moves, and you glance down at the sight of your baby squirming. You can't help but grimace at the weird sensation. Your baby is always moving, never allowing you the rest you desperately want, and it's just one more thing to stack on top of all the rest of your woes. Sometimes, it felt like the growing bundle was punishing you for sending your boys away, especially with how much worse you've been feeling lately without their presence.

Shanks had been so happy to find out that you were pregnant, but he was less enthusiastic about the more gross details and what came with raising a child. He had promised you over and over that he would be there to help, but that he'd definitely have to get used to it.

The redhead drops to his knees, arms wrapping around your thighs as he presses the side of his face to your tummy. It's hardly a bump, but Shanks loves the growing bundle inside of his treasure all the same. He kisses your stomach, lips lingering there as he imagines a tiny redhead running around.

Mihawk stands behind you, still over the moon with the news. He was worried, very much so. Even if your pregnancy and birth were smooth sailing, that meant that Mihawk would have one more person in the world that he would need to protect. It terrified him, but running was the last thing on his mind. In reality, the hawk couldn't get over how radiant you looked and planned to worship every inch of your body until you begged him to stop.

You frown and push the memories aside. Maybe they hadn't been lying to you about everything, but both of them knew that you had no idea who you were. How could they have kept that from you? Why had they waited so long to tell you?

You would have forgiven Mihawk if he had been truthful to you from the start. You were desperate for any kind of company then and had become spoiled on his, so you hadn't thought to question his words back then. But now that you are thinking about it, you can recall how Mihawk had hesitated the day you first told him of your “dreams”.

You would have been upset, yes, but you didn't love Mihawk back then. it would have been much less of a betrayal, but his decision to wait had made it one of the worst things he could have done.

You had an older brother out there who you didn't even know existed, a connection to your past, but Mihawk was too fucking selfish too see that. Damn, now you're just getting angry. But maybe that was good? Maybe you needed to let it all out. You stand from where you'd been curled up on the couch. You have the sudden urge to move. It's been days since your boys left and you've done nothing but lay around and sulk.

Hank jumps up after his human, dark eyes sparking up in excitement to see you finally up and about. He follows after you and lets out a low yip to grab his little brother's attention. Sukuna would kill him if he didn't wake him up.

The orange fluff ball appears within moments, greeting Hank with a yowl and rubbing up against your legs. You crouch to love on him for a second before you continue on, manic energy coursing through your body. They follow their human to your bedroom, and you prop open the door, intending to start deep cleaning the room. You've let too many clothes pile up.

Hank lays under your vanity, and Sukuna squeezes in beside the mutt, big golden eyes never leaving you. They can smell Your raging emotions, and neither want to accidentally get in your way.

You start in the corner, lip curling up in annoyance when you immediately find a pair of Shanks’ pants that he'd left behind. You chuck them to the floor, and soon, it becomes a growing pile of clothing that both men had left behind. You pause once you reach a familiar white shirt, hesitating in tossing your favorite to the pile.

Hank whines when he begins to smell your rising distress and crawls out from under his hiding spot to go to your side. He doesn't like that his human has been so upset lately and is curious as to why her mates haven't shown back up to take care of her. Hank knows that they had a fight. It's why he had gotten in between his human and the one armed man, even if Hank really liked him.

You turn to your dog, a sad smile on your lips as you hold the ruffled and well-loved shirt close to your face. Hank whines again and presses his face into your side, trapping the shirt between the two of you.

“Oh. Alright. I guess it'd be okay to keep this one, huh, buddy?” You murmur and gently shove Hank away so you can lift the shirt you're wearing now and toss it into your hamper. You shrug on Shanks’ shirt, snickering when the material grows tight around your swollen belly. You can't help but think that wearing the shirt feels like the redhead is there with you, wrapping you up in a hug.

You blink as your vision swims and quickly stand, going to the pile of their clothes and shifting through them until you find a large overcoat with delicate designs.

It's during a rare storm on your island that Mihawk decides to show up. His coat and hat are completely soaked through, and the warlord feels more like a wet cat than anything at that moment. This must be what Sukuna feels like when you give the poor cat a bath. Mihawk emphasizes with him.

He barges into the cottage like he owns the place, scaring the hell out of you from where you sit in the living room putting together a puzzle that he'd brought you on a previous visit. The piece you're holding goes flying into the air, and you level a glare at the soaked warlord.

“I'll never find that, you know!” You shout after him as he trudged to the bathroom. He ignores you, closing the door with a snap and quickly undressing. He hangs up his coat to dry and then hops into the now steaming shower to wash the cold rainwater away.

Mihawk joins you back in the living room half an hour later, dressed in nothing but sleep pants. He settles down on the floor behind you, tugging you close to his chest and hooking his bearded chin over your shoulder. He presses an apologetic kiss to your neck.

“I'll buy you another if we can't find the piece later,” Dracule promises. You give a satisfied nod and smile, leaning back into his chest.

“I'll hold you to it.”

Mihawk never took that coat with him again.

You stare down at the dark coat, licking your lips before, ultimately saying screw it and sliding your arms through the sleeves. It's massive on you, dragging the floor and swallowing you up, but it brings you that comfort that you desperately need right now. You clutch the lapels of the jacket close, sniffing pathetically as you sit in the middle of the pile of clothes. Fuck. You miss them so much.

Sukuma meows at you and makes a show of walking on the shirts and pants that surround you, sniffing at them before making biscuits and settling in. Hank plops down beside you, and you can't help the water laugh that escapes.

“I dunno if it's sad or not that the two of you can communicate with me better than a human being,” you quip and let yourself wallow in pity for a little while longer before you stand. You sigh and gather the clothes up and place them in the ditty laundry with everything else. You don't have the heart to get rid of them, not when you can't even decide for yourself if you want them to come back or not.

Sukuna and Hank share a look as they follow you around for the rest of the day. They don't dare leave you alone, not when you reek of sadness and self-pity. Hank does his best to make his human feel a bit better, bringing you his favorite toys and being a big goof when you toss his ball. Sukuna made sure to keep close, his purring, a constant, thunderous roar that drowned out the sad little voice in your head.

~~~~~~~

Their company makes you feel better, but you are still down and miserable a couple of days later. It's been just over two weeks since you sent your boys away, and you've had a lot of time to think during that time. You aren't nearly as upset with Shanks as you are with Mihawk. The redhead had only gone along with Dracule's dumb ass decision at Mihawk's discretion, so you didn't think it was very fair to be so upset with the Emperor.

You were still angry with him, but you could forgive the redhead.

You still hadn't found a good enough excuse for Mihawk, however. His lying to you had been nothing but selfish desire to keep you his. You don't understand how keeping such information from you could be considered keeping you safe, but then you think back to what Shanks had told you the morning before everything had gone to shit.

“Sometimes Mihawk thinks he knows what's best for us, even if he goes about it the wrong way.”

Well, wrong he was, but in a weird way, you could almost see his logic.

Your family, your home, your kingdom, it was all gone - destroyed by Big Mom and her family. You'd been so young, six years old, when it happened, that other than the same memories that plague you nightly, you hardly remember your family or your home. Aside from Tomura, and even then, the memories were vague at best.

Did it make you a bad person if you stayed with the man who had killed the people who lived on your island? Your apparent subjects, because you're some long lost princess? Not that you being royalty mattered, not to you at least. Why would you want all that responsibility when you've lived such a free life away from the rest of the world? How can you grieve for something you've never known?

You hated all these new questions and doubts that his confession had brought on. You almost wish that he'd just kept his mouth shut, but then you think about the brother that is still a mystery to you. Tomura had been your only friend as a child, and you wish you could ask him what he thought about all this.

A sudden pounding on your front door has you jumping out of your skin, and fury rushing up your spine. Really? They couldn't even stay away for a week?

You stomp over to the door, a curse on your lips that sputters out the moment you see who exactly is at your door.

“Perona?” You demand, brows shooting up.

The pink girl barges in like her father figure, strutting into your home like she owns the place.

“Wh-what are you doing here?”

“Coming to see you, duh,” Perona quips like she busts into your life on the daily. Which she does not. She plops on the couch, sighing dramatically, “I couldn't stand another day being around Mihawk. He's not stopped moping since you made them leave.”

Her words catch you off guard. Perona had come here to complain about Mihawk to you of all people? Was she crazy? Perona opens her mouth and spouts off before you can get a word in.

“I'm surprised he even got inside the castle as drunk as he was! The humandrals probably stayed away because of how badly he reeked!”

Your mouth grows dry. You didn't think that Mihawk would be the one to go off into a drinking stupor, and despite yourself, you still felt concerned for the older man. Mihawk was such a recluse, and it had taken months for him to open up to you, and who knew where Shanks was. You had expected the men to at least find comfort in each other.

“Shanks isn't there?” You ask her and take a seat in Mihawk's armchair. You haven't been able to bring yourself to call it yours again, even in your head.

Perona shakes her head, sending her bouncy pig tails flying, “Nope. Not that I saw anyway. But enough about him. How are you doing? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

You smile at her concern and push down the emotions that threaten to swell up like the ocean and pull you under.

“I'm okay. The baby is okay. A lot more squirmy than usual, actually.” You assure the other woman and smooth your hand over your stomach. You are wearing one of Mihawk's shirts today, a brilliant red in color styled in his usual fashion.

Perona squeals in happiness and claps her hand, “Oh good! Can I feel it?”

You nod and watch with a soft smile as the younger girl kneels by your seat and gently rests her hand atop your coveted belly. She giggles when the little one kicks her hand almost immediately.

It's quiet for a while, and that concern for Mihawk resurfaces with a vengeance. You lick your lips, and Perona seems to feel the shift in the air, for she sits back and plops back on the couch. She watches her friend, feeling guilty and sorry for the other woman. It wasn't fair.

“Mihawk told me what happened. Well, more like he drunkenly yelled about it and threw a lot of things, but still. I wanted to come see you. Are you seriously okay?”

Her big eyes are full of nothing but worry for you, and you feel the walls crack and break under her kind gaze.

“Ah-no not really,” you admit quietly and sweep your hand through your hair, “I guess I didn't realize how much they were picking up my slack around here. Being pregnant fucking sucks, and I feel horrible for missing two men who betrayed my trust.”

You sniff and force the tears back. You are so sick of crying. Sick of feeling like crap, and you just want everything to go back to the way it was.

Perona stands and gathers you in for a hug, and you gladly bury your face in her shoulder and cry. It feels like it's been forever since you've had any kind of human interaction, and having Perona here has broken you. She holds you until you've stopped crying, and then when you let go, the ghost girl lopes to the kitchen to fix the two of you hot cups of tea. The warm drink does wonders for your sore throat, and you let yourself relax back into Mihawk's chair.

“I think you sending them away was the right thing to do. For now, at least,” Perona begins, and you glance up at her from over the rim of your mug. She sits criss cross on the couch, and you smile when you see that Sukuna has curled up in her lap. Big fluff ball only liked girls.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that this alone time gave you some time to think, right? I know Mihawk did bad, and I told him more than once that it wasn't okay that he was keeping that from you, but, _.”

You look at Perona when she says your name, and you frown at the insurge of wrongfulness that swims in your chest. You don't know if you want to hear this.

“He's a disaster. I've never seen him like this before, and maybe you could give him a second chance? Maybe give him a call to know that you're okay?”

Mihawk had become Perona’s guardian and father figure all rolled up into one big surly warlord. She loved him and hated that Dracule was wasting away alone in the castle at Gloom Island. He deserved to be happy, and the ghost girl knew that you and Shanks were the only two for him.

You stay quiet. Could you do what Perona asks? The more you think about it, the more you come to the conclusion that yes, you could definitely do this. You wanted to talk to Mihawk. You needed to see how the older man was doing.

“Is he really that bad?” You ask softly, and Hank seems to notice the stress that coats your tone. He rises from in front of the fireplace and lays his big head on your lap. You slid your fingers into his fur and found that easy comfort.

“He won't stop drinking and yelled at me when I tried to take his booze away. He won't eat, won't shower, and hasn't trained since he got to Gloom.”

It's one nail in the coffin after the other, and you find yourself up out of the chair and to the snail transponder that you've intentionally forgotten about. Your hands shake as you dial the familiar number, and you glance to the living room to see Perona giving you a double thumbs up.

CA-LICK

“Who the fuck thinks that they can call this number.”

Gods. Perona really wasn't joking when she said that Mihawk was a mess. He sounded sloshed, voice thick with alcohol and lack of sleep.

“Mihawk? It's me,” you say quietly, and the silence is loud even over the phone. You close your eyes and picture the look of shock that the warlord no doubt has.

“Angel? You called?” His voice is full of disbelief and aching hope.

“Perona asked me to call you. She said you aren't…doing very well.” You finish lamely. It's never been this awkward between the two of you before, and you do not like it.

“Oh, so that's where she ran off to. You shouldn't worry about me, Darling. I'm perfectly fine- oh!”

You jump when you hear a loud crash over the receiver, “Mihawk? Are you okay?”

“I'm fine my dear. Only tripped. I'm quite clumsy today,” Mihawk slurs and you crack a smile at his uncharacteristic behavior. You hear him shuffle about and settle down in a chair, voice sobering up just a bit as he focuses on speaking.

“It's good to hear your voice, sweetheart. I missed you something terrible, you know? Are you doing well? Is the baby okay?”

You can hear his voice catch a frantic edge, and you are quick to reassure the warlord. You dont want him sailing across the Grand Line sloshed.

“We're both fine. She's been a little more rowdy than usual,” you say quietly and bite your lip, a tiny sigh leaving you. You rub your tummy, eyes sliding shut, “She misses her daddies. So do I.”

It's quiet on the other end of the line, just the sound of Dracule breathing. It's honesty nice to hear, and you find yourself relaxing again the wall, head thunking against it.

“...I'm so sorry, Angel. What I've done to you is irreversible. I wish that I could take it all back.”

His apology hurts. You want to forgive him for his sins, assure Mihawk that nothing had changed and that he could come back home. But you couldn't, even if he had saved you and your brother at the end of the day.

“You can't, Mihawk, and I don't know if I can ever forgive you,” you hear his lungs hitch on the other end, a sharp intake of breath that sounds near painful. You look down at your growing belly, tears spriouting, “But it isn’t fair to you to keep you away from her, and- and I don't think I can do this without you.”

“Her? You think the baby is a girl?”

A smile plays your lips. Of course, that is what he picked up on right now.

“I just have a feeling, is all,” you admit to him. You hum quietly, and thousands of miles away, Mihawk relaxes in his armchair for the first time in weeks at the sweet sound.

“ …You would trust me around her? Around you again?” He asks you, and Gods, how were you suppose to answer that?

“Did you ever lie to me about anything else?” You ask instead of answering that. You needed to know if anything you had shared with Dracule had been fake.

“No. I've always been truthful to you, Angel. You’ve become my whole world, and I wanted to do anything I could to protect that.”

Even over the snail transponder, you can tell that Mihawk is telling the truth. You only have one last question, one that makes you almost nauseous to ask.

“Do you love me, Mihawk?”

On Gloom Island, the warlord looks stricken, face growing pale and falling at the mention of that four letter word. Did he not show you how much he cared for you? Did his actions not speak of how much you meant to him?

No, it didn't. His lack of action that had cost him everything. Mihawk wouldn't let that happen again.

“I don't think I should answer that over the phone, Angel.”

He hears your breath hitch, and do he plows on, shoving away the unease that wants to settle like a deadly cloak.

“I want to see you, again. Will you permit me that?”

Before you can answer, you hear a commotion on the other end of the line. Curious, you listen in.

Mihawk cocks an unimpressed brow when the door to his study flies open, banging against the wall and sending a couple of books falling from the shelves. Shanks gives him an unapologetic grin and shut the door softly behind himself.

“Sorry about that, Baby,” the redhead slurs. He is drunk as a skunk, and Mihawk curls his lips at the stench that clings to Shanks, “I wanted to come see you, you've been avoiding me.”

“It's not avoiding if you aren't seeking. I've been here this whole time,” Mihawk grumbles at the younger man and points to a chair on the other side of his desk. Shanks ignores him, loping around the desk to instead drape himself across Mihawk's shoulders instead.

“Who're you talking to?” Shanks demands when he catches sight of the snail on Dracule's desk.

“Hi Shanks,” the redhead zeros in when he hears your voice, dark eyes going wide and he makes grabby hands for the receiver.

“Treasure! I miss you!” Shanks whines into the phone, and your chest tightens at the forlorn tone that coats his words, “When can we come home?”

You can't help but giggle at his request, though that guilt still eats at you, you want to see them again. Maybe Perona was right about that second chance. It felt so good to speak to both of your boys, even if they hadn't been taking care of themselves, but you still didn't think you could have them here. Not yet.

“Not yet, Shanks. I need some more time,” you murmur and wish you were there with them when you hear the sound of flesh meeting flesh.

“Don't bother her with questions like that. She'll take all the time she needs,” Mihawk snaps and glares at the redhead who now lays sprawled on the floor.

You listen to Shanks whine like a child in the background, and the sound of your two boys together makes you long to be there with them.

“He's fine, Mihawk. How about you let him stay there with you, and I'll call you again soon?” You suggest softly. You know that Mihawk won't willingly ask Shanks to stay with him, but you didn't want either of them to be without the other right now.

Dracule sighs heavily but nods all the same, golden eyes landing on the redhead who looks seconds away from passing out, “Only because you asked, Angel.”

“Don't act like you don't love him,” you admonish quietly, and his next words shock you to the core.

“You're right, Darling. I do love him.”

You can hear the quiet astonishment in Dracule’s voice, and this time, it's happy tears that will up and threaten to fall. You sniff harshly, “See, that wasn't that bad, was it?”

A fond smile plays on his lips, golden eyes soft, “No, no it wasn't.”

A stilted silence settles over the connection, and the two of you speak up at the same time.

“I should go-”

You huff a soft laugh and continue, “you should make sure Shanks hasn't drunk himself into a coma. I'll um, I'll keep in touch, okay?”

“Alright, Darling, call again soon, okay?” Mihawk, please and grips the receiver harshly, voice turning desperate, “We miss you.”

You swallow harshly, eyes clenched shut, “I will. I miss you too.”

You hang up the transmitter, taking a deep breath before going back to Mihawk's chair and plopping down with a world weary sigh. Perona cocks a brow at you.

“Did it go okay?”

You shrug, “Yeah, it was good hearing from them. Shanks will probably still be there when you go home, by the way.”

You snicker at the sneer that ghosts across Perona’s face, finding amusement in her disgusted reaction, “Fantastic.”

@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax @jaguarthecat @atricksterwithwings @black-swan-blog27

125 notes · View notes

detshin · 17 days

Note

uhm, how exactly will gosho develop the cousin thing in the manga.

I mean, I wouldn't know, honestly. What goes on in the mind of that man only he knows (and sometimes I doubt even that).

My opinion under the read more...

Personally, I've already stated many times that it's a trope I've liked and headcanoned for a long while now, and it's not like it's COMPLETELY out of the blue. The whole "they look the same" is a big factor, there have been references to them having some sort of "ancestor" in common, the Toichi and Yusaku tease was already there in the childhood case of Shinichi (where Toichi appeared and called Shinichi big bro btw 👀) and there was a time long ago that Gosho said something about it in an interview and that it was going to be talked about.

Anyway, point is, I could see this going in different ways. I would LOVE to see this being explored and dealt with nicely and seriously, but my hopes for that are low. He'll either just have it mentioned and never more explored or talked about (like with akemi and akai), or maybe in the mk manga now to talk about Toichi, I don't know?

Because honestly, I feel like people are getting hung up on the cousins thing and are forgetting about the confirmation of what we all have been fearing and it's that Toichi is indeed alive and both of Kaito's parents suck ass. And what scares me is the possibility of it being comedic or Kaito being okay with it or something when he deserves to have that be explored. He became a criminal because of it! And his parents know and aren't doing ANYTHING!

I've said this before, MK is not as shits and giggles as it seems. Story is pretty darn dark if you think about it. Kaito is one of if not THE most solitary (lonely) character of the dcmk universe. He is not as the fandom tends to represent him sometimes. That's not Kaito. The over the top, flirty, pompous one is Kid. It's a mask. A facade. Kaito is not like that, he is just a teen who is struggling to make real connections with people and who is terrified of being found out as a criminal and cannot for the life of him let people IN because they'll see right through him and whose "dead" dad taught him NOT TO SHOW HIS EMOTIONS.

Kaito NEEDS some support. Jii alone is not enough. His own parents have lied to him his entire life and he's constantly alone, grieving for something that is not real. He has Aoko, but he CAN'T let her in completely for obvious reasons. Hakuba's there, but same thing. And I'm sorry but Akako I don't really think counts either, he actively seems not to really even like her or whatever...

MY POINT IS. If Kaito can get some new family members that could support him... Why refuse it, no? I'm not talking about Yusaku because he's also been keeping him in the dark and all and hasn't really seemed to do anything about it. But Yukiko (yes I'm choosing to believe she's also oblivious to Kaito being put in that situation) and Shinichi? Oh, those two could do wonders for someone like Kaito, in my opinion. Because Yukiko is Yukiko (she was born to be the cool aunt), and Shinichi is... Well... Shinichi. He could understand Kaito and actively show him support and help. They COULD be amazing as family.

Now it's all just a matter of... Does Gosho WANT to go that deep into this? Or is he going to continue to disregard Kaito's suffering and not give him anyone to lean on?

Anyway, cousins Kaito and Shinichi rule!

#detective conan #dcmk #shinichi kudo #kaito kuroba #ask me!#movie 27 spoilers

96 notes · View notes

cuntypyramidhead · 28 days

Text

Yandere The Unknown x reader (part 1)

(Dead by daylight)

Note: don't question this

Also this is going to become a proper fanfic, I have no idea how long. I might connect it to my dbd fanfic.

Also I might edit it to make more sense, a lot of this has been written at 3am. Please ignore any errors they might be fixed at some point.

----

You found a new job a few weeks ago, working at a movie theatre. Honestly, you were kind of happy for it. Although the area was dirty and sticky, you were able to get a discount on the movies and snacks, which made it worth it for you. It isn't something you wanted for the rest of your life, but it was good enough for now. You moved to this new town a few months ago, and previously worked at a wreckers, but quickly moved on since the people working there were sketchy.

One of your old friends suggested to work here and of course you agreed. You got discounts and your friend everyday, she also helped you get the job. But not long after you started she disappeared. It was difficult, and you hoped every night she'd come back. The place hurt to be at sometimes, but maybe one day she'll walk in through the doors with that beautiful smile on her face.

You shook your head, you couldn't think about it now. You can't do anything to get her back. You just had to hope the police would take it seriously. But with the recent disappearances, you doubt they'd focus heavily on her. Within the past month there's been over 10 people who've gone missing. Maybe to them she's just a number. There's a few people who go missing every month. It's just... normal for this town. The police do what they can... I guess. But they never will focus for long on one person, because there's always another who goes within a few days or a week. There's just too many crimes happening that it's difficult to keep track. There's maybe a few thousand people who live there, and maybe two stations. So there needs to be more, but they probably won't bother. It's been the same two for maybe 20 years from what you'd heard.

You vacuumed the crumb covered floor, wiping down the chairs, trying to get it as clean as you could. You wanted to keep this job, at least till you could find something more stable. While mopping the linoleum floors, you listened to some music. You ignored the world around you. It was nice to have a distraction. Although cleaning wasn't a nightmare, you'd prefer not too. Some parts of the cinema was darker, your boss was always insistent on turning off the lights if you aren't in the room. It was a bit unnerving, but eventually you learnt to get used to it. It wasn't exactly welcoming, but it wasn't terrifying either.

Occasionally you'd take off your headphones for a few moments, as your ears started to get sore from the pressure. You wanted to get better ones, but you were in a somewhat small town, and there weren't a lot of electronic stores. It was annoying having the wire in the way, but you learnt how to deal with it. You decided to just let them sit on your shoulders, around your neck. Still hearing the music, although it was quieter. You hummed along, eventually sighing at peoples disgustingness. Was it so hard just to put their rubbish away?

Once the bin was full, you picked it up and went outside. The dumpster was almost overflowing, but it wasn't your job to empty that. You threw the bag on top, trying to prevent it from falling down. Once it was stable, you were about to walk inside when you heard someone voice from in the parking lot.

"Can... can you please help me? I'm stuck!" The voice sounded wrong, it's tone was off as it lacked any emotion behind the words he was saying.

You were about to walk over, but remembered all the disappearances. You felt a loud tinge of guilt. "I'm... I'm sorry I can't! I'll get the police to help." You yelled back.

"P-please I really need help!"

You gulped and stepped back, "I can't, I promise the police will come soon!"

You ran inside slamming the door, hearing the cries begging for help coming closer and closer. You were confused, if they were stuck how were they getting closer... Something wasn't right. The situation made your skin crawl. You ran to the phone which sat on the desk. You dialed the number for emergency services and asked for a police officer. You explained the situation, and made it sound more normal as you didn't want to be labelled crazy. You said it rather simply, that there was someone saying they were stuck but something seemed off and suspicious and you wanted the police to take care of it.

While you waited for the police, you sat on one of the chairs at the front desk, fidgeting while listening to music, trying to prevent yourself from panicking. You wanted to keep level-headed. You sang the song quietly, tapping your fingers on the desk. You laid your head back and closed your eyes. You kept one side of the headphone off your ear, so you could hear the police knocking and let them in.

Once they arrived, they checked the whole building and area surrounding it, eventually finding nothing. They also checked the security cameras which showed only you, nothing else. The footage showed no one in the parking lot or anywhere else.

This made you doubt yourself even more.

Eventually you went home and laid in bed. You struggled to fall asleep as all you could think about was what happened and the fear you felt. You kept replaying it over and over, analyzing any details you could remember. You remembered how off the voice was, how almost inhuman it was.

You brushed it off, maybe it was because of a lack of sleep. You weren't sure anymore. You tried to stop thinking of it because you really needed to sleep. But it kept squeezing through the cracks and coming back into your mind.

Your eyes slowly closed, and your breathing softened. You were so tired, so, so tired. You just wanted to rest.

Eventually, you started to hear light tapping against the window and low whispers of which sounded like it came from hundreds of people. You thought it was just because you were exhausted. It went away after a few minutes, leaving you to think you were right.

However, after tossing and turning for another 30 minutes, you were rustling in the bushes and voices near your bedroom. You shot out of bed, then peered slightly through the crack of the curtains.

You saw a head peeking out of the bushes, the main thing you noticed about the being was it's lifeless, black hole like eyes. It had no emotion and truly seemed inhuman regardless of its humanoid-like stature.

You felt your stomach drop and your heart stopped for a few moments. It twitched its head every few seconds, every time, it made your stomach twist more and more, the anxiety and fear filling you to the brim. You couldn't look away, it was almost hypnotic and left you in an awful trance with its horrifying appearance.

"Can you help me? I'm... Stuck." It said without its face moving. Your eyes widened in utter horror.

"I'm scared, please help me." It said with a loud snap of its neck, finally pulling you out of your trance. You fell onto the ground with a loud thud, you rubbed your back attempting to soothe the pain. After about a minute you got up, and went back to the curtain.

You watched as the legs of the creature disappeared from your line of sight. You weren't sure if you truly saw that, maybe you were truly going insane you couldn't tell anymore.

---

You awoke in a cold sweat to your alarm blaring into your ears. You groaned, turning it off. You didn't remember crawling back into bed, was it a nightmare? You shook it off. It was just because of the fear you felt last night, it just made you bring it into your dreams.

You stood up and got ready. You looked awful, but attempted to fix it with some makeup. You wore some more dramatic makeup, especially around the eyes. You wore some eyeliner, smudged it a little and combed your hair. You then applied some lip gloss and grabbed some random clothes from your closet.

You decided to call your boss. You knew it would be better to tell him yourself than someone else. You made it sound less bizarre and brushed it off. You didn't want to lose any shifts if he thought you needed a break.

After attempting to cover the tremble in your breath as you explained the situation, you walked to your car and headed to work. You've been taking longer shifts to earn more money. You would've left earlier yesterday if you could've but apparently that... Thing had to show up.

You stepped out of the car, the harsh winter wind making you shiver. You felt ill as you walked to the door. You had to go in though, you knew there was no other choice.

You took a deep breath and opened the door, you were swapping shifts with one of your coworkers. Your shifts often start from 6pm to 12am. The theatre often closes at 10pm, which then gives you a couple hours to do some cleaning. Sometimes you do have to stay overtime, however, which can be a bit frustrating.

As you stepped inside your coworker greeted you. Another one was working as the cashier, which you also did but in between movies you gave a quick clean to the theatre room. The other coworker leaves at 10pm, which then leaves you alone in the building.

You plopped down next to them at the register, asking how busy it was.

They sighed, scratching the back of their head. "Surprisingly, not many. A lot of people are too scared to come down this way."

"Huh? Why?"

"I'm surprised you don't know. Last night there was another disappearance nearby. The police are on high alert and people are freaking out."

"How'd they figure out they disappeared so quickly? Doesn't it normally take longer?"

"Well... It makes more sense when you know that there were screams at 2am coming from their house."

"I guess so... Sucks knowing I'm gonna be in this creepy place in the middle of the night." You grumbled, leaning back on the chair.

"Better you than me man, I'd rather quit than do that shit."

"Wow so comforting of you, thanks." You rolled your eyes, drawing on a random piece of paper to distract you.

"Yeah yeah, at least I'm being truthful! Honestly it's kinda shitty boss is still telling you to continue your shift.

"Ehh, it's fine. I need the money anyway, so the more hours the better."

"Your time not mine, just keep an eye out."

"Was planning on doing that. Also, do you think boss is going to be more of a tight ass? I hate having to have half the place pitch black while cleaning. Not the safest or efficient way to do it."

"I'm sure more people will come in the next few weeks, let's just hope the next disappearance is further away."

"I can pray, maybe god will damn help me this time." You murmur, tapping the pencil against the desk.

----

Very few people came in, only maybe 20 compared to the normal 100 or more. It meant you had less to clean, so maybe... You'll be able to leave earlier. And won't have to be in this uncomfortable place anymore. You can only pray.

As the shift passed, some people were on edge, but overall seemed fine. One child must've overheard about what happened recently, as they were scared, their eyes wide, they grabbed their mothers arm and attempted to pull them away from this place.

The mother rolled her eyes, saying they were safe since it was daylight.

"Monsters don't come out during the day, darling. You'll be fine. And there's other people here, they'll make sure to protect you." She leans down and pats her daughter on the head. "I promise you'll be okay sweetheart, it's just a movie theatre."

----

As night crept in, you started to slowly dread being there more and more. It started to slowly consume your thoughts, of what could potentially happen if you were left alone once more in this building. You hoped that since there wasn't as many people, you had more of a chance of being able to clean faster. And therefore, be able to leave earlier.

As your coworker left and put the closed sign up, you felt your stomach sink. You were sure that you were fucked. But what else could you do? You had to do your job. You had to do it regardless of what you wanted.

You went to the janitors closet, pulling the strings which turned the light on. It was rather claustrophobic. Dust had built up after what seemed like years of not being cleaned. You grabbed the vacuum and left the closet, and went over towards the front desk. You started there, and moved towards the movie room then upstairs. You were hyper aware of your surroundings, you couldn't help but feel on edge after last night. Every tap on the windows or hum of the electricity made you feel sick.

Once you were done vacuuming, out started to mop the floors. You wanted to listen to music, but you were afraid of not hearing if someone was lurking inside. You wanted to know what was happening around you.

After you did the basics, you sat down for a bit and wondered if you could get away with leaving the theatre like this. It's not like your boss comes in everyday.

You eventually decided to leave the place as is, you didn't feel safe being in there any longer. You instantly grabbed your handbag, but noticed your keys were missing and so was your phone... And wallet.

You felt bile instantly run up your throat. That awful feeling of knowing you were truly at another's mercy started to suffocate you. You panicked, looking under the desk, in the janitor's closet... Nothing. It was nowhere. You attempted to calm yourself down, saying you just misplaced it. That's all you did. There was nothing lurking around the corner watching your every move waiting to pounce and kill you.

You were fine. Just fine.

How the hell was everything missing? There's no way it all fell out when it was closed, and that it's been in the same spot since you got here.

You rushed around the building, searching everywhere for your stupid belongings. And in the middle of the already awful experience, you started to hear tapping on the windows. It was slow and intentional.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You went over towards it, moving the curtains. Nothing was there, but the bushes did move slowly. Those same, dead eyes pearing at you. That's when you realised everything you've witnessed was real.

Something was after you.

And you had no idea what the fuck it was, it definitely wasn't human. No humans neck twists like that, no human has the void-like holes, where no ounce of light can go through.

It slowly crept out of the bush, it's mangled limbs moving in unnatural, inhuman positions as it came towards the window.

It has already came in before, why the fuck was it trying to come in again? It could come in before, what now? Was there more than one? What did it want? Did it just get off on scaring you?

You stepped back, feeling like how you did the night before.

"No... No no. No." You murmured, grabbing the phone that hung on the wall. You attempted to dial the emergency services, but the lines were down. You shook your head, you had to have something to defend yourself from that... Thing. All these awful thoughts came into your mind. Of what it could do, of what it wanted.... And what it's true form was.

You heard popping sounds from the other side of the window.

"Can... You help me?"

Those distorted voices sent a shiver down your spine. That unnatural, disgusting sound.

You slowly glanced over your shoulder at the monster. It had the most awful, disgusting grin which showed all its teeth. It's disfigured head and body contorted as it started to tap on the window again.

"I... Need your... Help."

It said as it cocked its head.

"I am... Scared." It's mouth twitched wider. Both it's hands were placed on the window. Its face squished against it.

"I'm so scared."

If the situation wasn't serious, you would've laughed at the irony.

"Stay away from me!"

You yelled, grabbing a pair of scissors from the drawer. You pointed it towards the creature, even though you knew it was futile.

"Stay away from me!"

It mimicked, the dread which formed was sickening. It... Said the same thing. The two voices at once made it even more horrifying. The distorted sound triggered you more. It said things which were already unnerving, but it mimicked you in your tone, just slightly distorted was utterly mortifying. The fear you felt that night here and at home could never compare to this.

You decided that you had to get far away from this thing. You couldn't sit there forever, even another second was enough to make you want to crawl into a hole and rot. A being like that shouldn't exist.

You ran up the stairs, you felt it's... Sockets following your figure, analysing every movement. You went into the bathrooms and slammed the door shut. You locked the door, then moved over to the window. You glanced outside, and saw that it was clear.

You heard fast, but light footsteps coming from outside. You knew it was toying with you. You knew it enjoyed the chase and it made you feel sick.

The tapping continued once more, but this time at the bathroom door.

"I'm scared... Why won't you help me?"

"What do you want from me?!" You screamed back, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at the door.

"I'm stuck."

The more you listened to it, the more its voice sounded normal and close to human. You rapidly shook your had, murmuring to yourself.

"No, no this isn't happening."

It sounded so normal, its panic was so evident and felt real. Earlier it didn't, what was going on?!

You felt dizzy, your vision started to become slightly blurry. You collapsed onto the ground, in front of one of the bathroom stalls.. Your head thumped, the pain made you groan. You knew you had to get out, that's the only thing you could do. You weren't sure what was going on anymore. You had to get out.

You slowly stood up, holding onto the edge of the stall. You moved towards the window, contemplating how you were going to get down. There were bushes underneath, but you knew you were screwed if you landed wrong. There were no other options unless you wanted to face that thing. You slowly opened the window, attempting to be quiet just in case the... Thing will hear. To your relief it made no noise. You slowly placed your legs over, holding onto the edge tightly. You took a deep breath then pushed yourself off.

You groaned as your body hit the floor hard, causing pain to radiate through you. you groaned, knowing your body was going to be covered in bruises. You hissed as you slowly sat up. You brushed the twigs off of your shirt, then used the brick wall to attempt to help yourself up. You moved around the outside of the building, attempting to be quiet.

You knew you couldn't use your car, you had no idea how to hotwire it. The only option you had was to walk home, well, better run.

You started to sprint away, ignoring every aching muscle and joint. You gritted your teeth as you forced your legs to move. You occasionally glanced over your shoulder, and to your relief, saw nothing there. You started to slow down when you felt safer since you were further away from that thing.

You leaned over, placing your hands on your knees as you took deep breaths. You felt dizzy, but knew you had to get home. After a minute, you started to walk again. As you walked down the street, occasionally you spotted cars driving by or the really odd person or two walking by. You always held the scissors tight, regardless of how much it dug into your skin.

Eventually, you got to your home. You searched your pockets for your keys, then remembered you lost them at the theatre. You hoped that thing wouldn't find them. You went to the backyard and grabbed them from under one of the pots. You unlocked the door, then went inside.

You placed some chairs behind the front and back door under the handle. You then slipped the latch so unlocking wouldn't work. You made sure you did everything you could to prevent the thing from coming inside.

You felt relieved once you glanced around knowing that you were safe.

So you could finally have a good sleep, you went to have a warm shower. You washed away all the dirt from your skin, watching as the dirt slowly went down the drain. You sat in the warmth, soaking up the comfort from it for as long as you can. You sat in the shower for a while till the hot water ran out, forcing you to go back into the cold. Reminding you of the bitter reality you'll have to face eventually.

You got dressed then went to the kitchen, grabbing a knife from the utensil drawer. You tapped the point, dragging your finger across the blade. You wanted to make sure it'd actually be useful if you needed to defend yourself.

You locked your bedroom door, making sure the latch would be strong enough to keep anything out. The hairs on your skin were constantly standing. Every shadow and movement puts you on edge. Your own home didn't make you feel safe, only the slightest bit safer than if you were to be outside.

You walked over to your bedside drawer, then placed the knife on top of it.. You left the lamp which sat beside you on. You pulled open one of the draws and grabbed one of your old alarms since your phone was lost.

You haven't used it for so long it took a while to figure it out. Once you set it, you laid down in bed. You stared at the ceiling, getting dragged into your thoughts. You occasionally focused on shadows that danced on your walls, wondering if one of them will ever be the creature which tortured your emotions hours before.

----

#yandere x reader #yandere the Unknown #yandere dbd #yandere #the unknown x reader #the unknown #dbd x reader

52 notes · View notes

theerurishipper · 6 months

Note

Idk I always find it bizarre when people shocked that Marinette just let rubble and whatever fell down to Emilie's coffin just so Gabriel move to protect it as if it's smt new. Miraculous can be inconsistent with it's characterization sometimes, but not for Marinette. Her characterization is still strong and constant from s1. Her let the rubble fell to the coffin is her s1 equivalent of taking down Eiffel tower at the Mime episode or s2 when she baited anansi to punch the arc de triomphe so she'd be buried under it's rubble.

What bizzare is the amount of what Marinette destroyed is far exceed what Adrien, as the holder of desruction ever did. Chat Blanc excluded because he was akumatized while Marinette did all that intentionally.

Can't imagine just how much destruction she caused if she were the holder of black cat miraculous instead. Must be terrifying.

I feel like those other two were different because The Mime and Anansi were akumatized villains with superpowers, so they wouldn't die from that or anything, and they could defend themselves just fine. But it's not the same with Emilie Agreste. This is an innocent woman who as far as she knows wanted no part of this. This is the mother of the boy she supposedly loves and is fighting for. And she drops a whole elevator onto her body without a single second of hesitation. That's so cruel. That's awful.

This literally proves why Marinette is so unsuited for the role she occupied in the finale. She has no connection to any of this. The whole Agreste arc was built on their family drama and the emotions they have for each other. We're supposed to feel something for Emilie Agreste, regardless of her lacking presence in the story. And here comes Marinette, who cares fuck all for any of them, treating this innocent woman like a prop in her fight, literally dehumanizing her in order to get an advantage over Gabe. There's no consideration for Emilie, from the narrative or the characters. Gabriel had to be the one to save her from Marinette.

And I am a proud "Emilie Agreste was an abusive parent" truther, but that doesn't excuse this. At the end of the day, she was an innocent in Gabriel's supervillainy, and Marinette threatening her life as part of a strategy to defeat Gabe is awful. And like I said, this shows why it's so counterproductive to have her take the central role in the resolution of this conflict. We're supposed to watch Emilie's heartfelt words reach Gabriel, as if she matters, when Marinette just treated her like an object and almost killed her (not sure if she's already dead or just in a coma, but my point still stands). The emotions are all gone. Nothing matters expect Marinette being a girlboss (which is literally the stated reason for why Bug Noire happened, so that Marinette could look cool).

Like, can you imagine if Adrien was here? Could you imagine how he'd feel watching his partner who supposedly loves him using his mother as a tool to defeat his father? Could you imagine how he'd feel to see his mother's body be almost destroyed, to see his mother be killed because Ladybug wanted to beat Gabe's ass? How would it feel to see that Marinette doesn't consider his mother a person more than she thought of her as a prop to get an advantage over Gabriel?

But no, treating Emilie Agreste with any kind of dignity is secondary to letting Marinette be awesome and cool ig. Removing the character who is the emotional core of the story removes all emotion from the finale, who woulda thunk it.

Thank you for your ask!

#Meta #My meta #Asks #ML Salt #ML Writing Salt #ML Writers Salt #Marinette Salt #Ladybug Salt #S5 Finale

117 notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 10 months

Note

🤖+JK+"I never needed anything before but I know that I need you now"

There was no genre given, so I just chose myself. We need a breather from that last angst haha- this one is fluffy, slightly suggestive, but mostly fluff.

"What do you mean, I'm leaving?" He worries, standing at the door to his room in your little apartment. You've started to pack his things, and he wonders what this all means. He knows the most logical conclusion as to why you'd pack up his personal items would be, that he truly has to leave- but why doesn't really spark up in his brain.

"Your evaluation.." You mention, folding a t-shirt of his on his bed. "..you passed. You're officially a fully accepted citizen." You shrug, putting the folded shirt to the side to fold a pair of his sweatpants instead. "You got a 9.8 in emotional expression actually. So you no longer need me, basically." You say simply, and he walks into the room at that, shaking his head.

"I refuse." He denies, taking his clothes out of your hand much to your surprise. "I know that I said that.. I never needed anything before-" He offers, and you're fascinated at how.. expressive and human he's become over the past year of living with you. "-but I know that I need you now." he confesses to you, eyes determined. "More than ever. In fact, I doubt that there will ever be a time I won't need you." He argues stubbornly, and you giggle.

"So you got a crush-" You want to joke, smiling. "-I get it, we kissed, kind of.. made out, it was exciting and all-" You try and reassure him, but he shakes his head yet again, brows lowering in frustration as he holds onto your shoulders.

"You're right. It was exciting-" He admits, nodding. "it was more than that. It gave me a feeling of euphoria I've never felt before." He agrees. "But I have done enough research into human terms and social behaviors to know that this isn't a simple 'crush'. This is a much deeper connection I am experiencing, and you cannot convince me that you have not developed a similar emotional connection to me." Jungkook says, and you can't help but look away. "Right there. Clear avoidance, because you know that I am correct." The former military android observes.

"Jungkook- what if we don't work out?" You worry. "I'm annoying, and childish, and clingy, and-" You rant on, and he recognizes those words as the same he had used in the past to describe you. And that has been what you felt like to him in the past.

Way too carefree. Never worried about anything. Hell, you'd laugh at your of misfortunes- he clearly remembers you tripping and painfully scratching open your knee after someone had bumped into you on the sidewalk- and you had sat there, held your bleeding knee, and laughed.

While he'd been terrified at the first clear reminder that differently to himself, you're weak. An easy target. Quick to get hurt, not only due to your clumsiness.

But these days, he'd never use those specific words for you any longer.

You're comfort for him. Something so soft he's not sure if you can even be considered real. He wants to protect you, keep you close, hold your hand and never let go. He wants to stay with you forever, prove to you that he can love you right despite your evident differences.

He knows he can. He knows he wants to.

"Let me love you." He asks, his grip a lot softer on your shoulders now as his hands travel down them, before holding your hands.

"That sounds awfully suggestive, mister." You tease like you always do, and he can't help but smile at that, this emotional response by now just as instinctual in him as in regular humans as well.

"Well, if you want me to.." He offers, stepping closer before leaning down to your lips.

"I can surely love you physically as well."

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader

151 notes · View notes

kangmoon27 · 10 months

Text

Memory Lost || Jungkook FF oneshot

The rain is pouring so hard. It's raining cats and dogs while you're running alone on the dark alley, crying.

Grabbing half of the weight of your wedding gown as you continue running away. You fell on the ground after one of your heels broke, groaning in pain and started crying painfully.

You feel so down, you feel like you aren't alive anymore more like a lifeless person on someone's living body. The pain from falling didn't match with the pain you felt after your groom ran away from your wedding.

You aren't a runaway bride but it is your soon to be husband who runaway from you, he didn't even said a single word before leaving you alone in the aisle Infront of everyone.

You felt embarrassed cause you knew you can't control people's minds some will pity you while some will blame you for not being able to keep your man and even tho it's not your fault they will find false scenario to put the blame on you.

Hugging yourself while laying down in the middle of the road. You didn't knew where you are, you just keep on running as you also wanted to run away from the pain but it keeps on following you.

You continue hugging yourself like a ball on the empty road while crying painfully, the strong sound of the thunder made you scream. You're scared of thunder and right now all you have is yourself.

The rain and the thunder join forces and it's terrifying you since you're in the middle of the empty road alone, you decided to get up to run to the bus station waiting area but before you could even reach to the other side, a light suddenly appears Infront of you making you distracted and with a blink of an eye everything went blank.

"I remember getting married a-and some how I remember your face" you said while looking at the man Infront of you. You tried to remember everything but nothing seems to work, the doctor said it's the matter of time and all you have to do is to wait.

"Exactly, it is because I'm your husband, I'm Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook and you're Jeon Yn, we got married the night you got into a car accident, you tried saving a puppy but the truck was also on its way till it hits you." The guy said while caressing your head.

He peck your lips and hug you all tho you felt strange you just hugged him back and try to accept the faith that will come into your life.

He pulled away and smiled at you, you just smiled back and hope for your memories to come back cause right now being with him is making you uncomfortable, it's like you don't or you have never love this person, you feel like there's so attraction, care love, emotions that you felt towards him or it's just because of your memory lost?.

Did you also forgot how to love him or even feel anything for your so called husband?. You're helpless, you don't know what to do at the same time you don't know anyone around you except from him so all you have to do is to trust him for now

Living with him was fun, he's giving you everything, love, care, time, efforts within a few weeks you actually did fell in love with him again.

Right now you've confirmed that this person is your husband, all th feeling that fated away after your accident came back and you're so happy. You love him and you're sure of it.

While you're trying to look for a place to hide you suddenly found a room on the underground area of the house, with thinking twice you immediately run to the door thinking of hiding inside but because you cause even open the door someone from the back pulled you making you scream.

"Gotcha!! Come on come on kiss me now" Your laughed at your husband and started giving him peck all over his face making his smile, you giggles and pulled away from him.

"I love you Koo" you said, the man simple smiled at you and slowly grabbed you by you waist and caresses your cheek and connected your lips together, his tongue started fighting with your, your tongue fight dominance and that's when the kiss started getting hotter.

His tongue wins and he suck yours, you both pulled away and look at each other, both eyes are filled with admiration, affection, love, and addiction.

Pulling him closer and kissed him, within a sec he replied, you wrapped your legs around his torso, he picked you up before deciding to take you upstairs again leaving the underground but before he leaves he look at the door you wanted to enter earlier and left.

His b"ner is visible in your hand as some precum leaks out of his c*ck while you're palming him.

After taking few pump on his members, you slowly opened your mouth and let him entered his c*ck inside you making him moan louder.

You started popping your head in and out while playing with his balls with your hand. The man is already sweating so much. The pleasure is too much for him yet he didn't want you to stop.

Soon he c"m inside you and you swallow it all.

You both smiled at each other, he pick you up from the ground as both of you lay down on the bed while staying in each other embrace under the blanket.

It your wedding day and something suddenly happened while you're on your way to your wedding. The car that you're riding got hit by a race car and the two mans are arguing outside.

Opening the window and look outside you saw a man with full of tattoo and piercing while looking like a racer, and as expected he owns the car that got hit.

You get out of the car and went straight right at them, he stared at you and smirk making you feel uncomfortable but you still manage to speak.

"As you can see I'm almost late for my wedding so can we please talk some other time I'll give you my number so that we can fix everything but please I really need to go now." You beg the man while he was just staring at you with strange look.

"Fine but I want one night with you and I want it on your honeymoon with your soon to be husband" He said making you shocked.

You slap his on the face as his stare changes, you can see that he was pissed but he's such a pervert. "Fix this problem uncle I'll find other taxi"

You left after getting humiliated by someone. You glance at him while he did the same till you find taxi to ride.

Jungkook was drunk while driving on the way home, he couldn't accept the fact that a girl slap him and even declined to sleep with him but all in all he couldn't lie about getting attracted to the girl, she's beautiful and brave.

It was a bad luck that she's getting married or even married by now cause if not he would do anything to take her and keep her to himself but sadly she's married.

The man is so lost in her though when he suddenly hit something. He came out of his car and saw a girl laying on the ground, soon he realized that it was the girl from earlier.

After finding out that you've lost your memories Jungkook decided to pretend as your husband but after finding out that your memory lost is just temporary he started giving you medicine that can make your brain stop function making it hard for you to bring your memories back.

He's affair that you will leave him so he also started k'lling you relatives after finding out they're looking for you and he keeps their lifeless body on the room in his underground.

You walk down stairs after freshing up, you found your husband on the kitchen cooking while he's shirtless.

You came to hug him from the back making his startled but quickly return a bright smile, he will keep on lying till his last breath and you will be stuck with him as long as he's alive.

"I'll have a race later tonight do you wanna come?" He asked while turning his head on you.

"Of course I would, I'm your biggest supporter love!!" You said while h pulled you into a kiss.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkookff

148 notes · View notes

butmakeitgayblog · 11 months

Note

How would you have wanted to see the season 3 bedroom scene go down if Clarke didn't hold back her obvious thirst for femme disaster Lexa in her nightgown

Have them fuck nasty 😤

Nah I'm just kidding

For real though, I actually took today to think about that because I think if you asked everyone in the fandom, you'd probably get a big variety of answers. There was just so much going on at that time and so many raw, unsettled emotions and resentments on Clarke's part. Realistically, I can absolutely see why she turned Lexa away (not the how tho, cuz damn).

But if I had to rewrite it through my own rose colored glasses, I would've liked it if Clarke had asked Lexa to stay and talk. Not even about the mountain or their people or anything that wandered too closely to those still healing wounds between them. More like asking Lexa about her childhood. What it was like growing up on the ground. Maybe about the different clans or what Lexa had dreamed about becoming before she was called to be commander. And I would've liked to have Clarke tell Lexa about the wonders of space. Not many though - that subject still holds too many nightmares. I would've liked to see them get to know each other beyond the pictures they have of each other as leaders and what they have to be as those people, and instead started learning more of the pieces of themselves that they'd learned to lock away from everyone else.

I would've liked to see Clarke grow sleepy to the sound of Lexa's soothing voice. Yawning while deliberately denying that she's yawning, even as she shakes it off and smacks her lips from it. And then of course, that fond little smile that Lexa always gets around Clarke, the one that barely kissed the sides of her lips but shines so brightly in her eyes. Usually in response to the skai girl's stubbornness, but that's neither here nor there. I would've liked to see Lexa offering to leave because even though the night had taken a very strange and unexpected turn, it was still lovely, and wonderful, and she likes to think of herself as chivalrous when circumstances allow, and regardless of what did or didn't happen, oh, you could see just how happy her little Heda heart was to have had that time together.

Without the usual looming thundercloud of Clarke's animosity.

I would've loved to see her trying to urge Clarke to go to bed and rest, only for Clarke to ask her to stay a little longer. To join her on the bed - sensibly, only because the bed was more comfortable than the old spindly chairs of her guest suite - and keep talking about all the good things on earth. Because she usually can't sleep anyway and because... that was the first night since she'd walked away from Camp Jaha that the demons of her past have been quiet.

I would've liked to see Lexa's internal battle of her emotions play out in nothing more than a series of blinks. A stuttered breath. The catch in her chest as she unfolds and refolds her hands in her lap. All the tiny cracks in her armor that you have to be looking for just to see, but they're the ones that give her away every time.

Because even tho she'd hoped— Even tho she'd thought, maybe Clarke's relief at her winning and staying alive might mean something for them... Even tho she'd come here with every intention to open herself up to whatever Clarke was willing to give to her, to connect with her... she hadn't at all anticipated the night to go quite like this. So intimate and bare, but not at all in the way she'd yearned for when she'd knocked on Clarke's door, blood still hot from the battle and the look Clarke gave her across the arena.

This was sweeter than she'd anticipated, somehow deeper, and her hunger and love for this woman is all the more terrifying for it.

But Lexa does stay, because she really is quite terrible at denying Clarke anything within her power at that point. Not that she wants to anyway. Not now that Clarke looks at her from under her furs with soft questioning eyes, instead of darkened pools filled with betrayed disgust.

I would've liked to see Lexa settle down on the bed, above the furs with her back sloped against the iron headboard that is terribly uncomfortable against her skin, but she'll bear it. And as she picks up the thread of what she'd been talking more to settle her own nerves than because she actually knows what she's saying. She's just babbling, which entirely unbecoming on The Commander but what else she can do when she's this close to this woman?

And ok fine, she's not a saint.

She does like the feel of Clarke's eyes on her. She likes the thrill that rushes through her at her own boldness careless ease when she adjusts her legs, lifts her knee just for comfort and, oops, lets the loose hang of her nightgown slip down to pool at her hip. It's an~accident~ she doesn't bother to fix, just like when the thin strap falls down off her shoulder as well. She's just comfortable in Clarke's space so it's totally, totally fine.

It wouldn't escape her (or us, the faithful viewers) that Clarke doesn't look away.

And I would've liked to see her watch as Clarke grew sleepier. Watched her very obviously struggle to stay awake by asking Lexa the most mundane questions could think of through her half-slurred haze as Clarke adjusts and readjusts and every time she finds herself that much closer. Until eventually there's nothing for it, she's just pressed against Lexa's side, and it's nothing to wrap an arm around Lexa's waist and push close. Lean her head on Lexa's shoulder and breathe in the scent of whatever soaps Lexa used in her post-battle bath (you hear that, Clarke. S o a p). And I would've liked the scene to end on Clarke drifting off to Lexa's comfort. To the feel of Lexa matching her every breath. To the gentle weight of Lexa pressing a kiss she'll insist in the morning that she was too sleepy to remember to the crown of her head.

That's how I would've liked to see it go.

#anon #clexa #lexa kom trikru #Clarke Griffin #gif 1 by doortotomorrow second one just on gif finder 😕

168 notes · View notes