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#and sometimes the person who was supposed to help you through this
hxltic · 3 days
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i have this idea of gymnast! reader and bokuto that I can't get put of my headddd, like her going to his practice and him going to readers as well 😫 cute
Omgomg this is so cute!! I used to be a gymnast😼
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The power couple. Y’all do everything together.
Before he went pro, you both attended the same college. He was captain for the last two years he was there, well known throughout campus, but mainly for reasons other than his volleyball talent. Innocent reasons, of course.
But I mean can you blame them? Look at him.
Big bright eyes, expressive and sweet. Huge too. On top of practically towering over everyone he meets, his vivacious nature makes you comfortable and him a likable person overall. It’s not surprising seeing all of the girls that would attach themselves to him.
He’d politely decline, and looking over his show-stopping smile, it provides enough comfort after being rejected to ask if they can recruit themselves as friends instead. He can’t say no to friends, especially after already saying it once, so he internally sighs and nods his head. It was awkward the first few times but he’s come to learn they never actually call. And if they text, it’s just basic conversation that he feels they don’t actually care to know about him.
You met at a meeting for the athletes held by the school, basically congratulating the hard work and achievements of the individual teams and important players. He went up in ranks for his hitting accuracy, dependability, and being an accomplished six rotation player. An overall asset to his team. He shakes the hand of his coach and an older man, taking his certificate, and standing up on the stage for the picture.
After entering the transfer portal, you were elated when one of the top scoring colleges for Women’s Collegiate Gymnastics gave you an offer. Of course you took the chance. With the sport being more of an individual achievement, even though the scoring is all added up in the end, you consistently dropped incredible numbers for the team. You like vault the best, but your teammates are in love with your floor routine and music.
So you go up next. Your hair moving behind you as you step up to your own coach and shake her hand, then receive the frame, ordered to stand right next to Bokuto.
His weight might be shifting, and his eyes may be flickering back and forth from you to the clapping audience of your peers, but he can’t help it. You’re the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
You’re only a few centimeters shorter, your skin glistens, and your pretty eyes are hid from him when your side profile leaves curly hair fallen over your ears. He forces himself to look forward for the last group picture of the ceremony, making a mental note to look up the name he’s heard called by the announcer more than once.
And he does just that. It was a little creepy at first but that was how you met. Now, you both go to the gym in your free time. He powers you through your sets, promising different motivators (new shoes) and food, while you try your best to do the same to him. Most of the time is spent giggling, but hey. Y’all work out with your respective teams on the days you’re supposed to, so does it really matter?
You mainly watch his games because some of your practices are on the same day. Watching these men swing with all their might knowing people on the other side are intended to receive the hit is insane to you. Watching who he explained is the libero throw himself around or get behind balls that seem to be barreling toward his face. You would literally shit yourself.
Meanwhile, when Bokuto comes to watch you, he admires the technical training and physicality that goes into running full speed at an inanimate object and tossing yourself around. How you manage not only to balance, but make it look pretty, and stay pretty doing it. He claims he gets sweaty and gross.
Sometimes after a workout, he’ll walk into your practice and finds a seat somewhere. He hears fast steps, vault boards going off, mats caving from being landed on—it’s all music to his ears now. He’s unironically close with your coach (as he is all the others, and the dietician), mainly because he’s around for you. You try not to get distracted by his slumped figure eyeing you from afar. It gets hard when you do full out routines at the end and you stick it.
He doesn’t truly understand the scoring and how meticulous it is, just that a fall is bad and you have to try your best not to wobble. Which is exactly why even if it wasn’t your best routine, it looked all the perfect to him, and he celebrates when you land your dismount.
There’s nothing more he loves than watching you get ready before meets. Braiding your own hair or letting your teammate do it, putting glitter of the school colors in spots on your face to match the leotard, doing the makeup, and putting the colorful bows in the bun— it’s all a process to him. You look gorgeous after, even when you’ve tucked yourself away in the school tracksuit that hides those thick legs he knows you has.
That’s what he loves most. God, your legs. Your whole physique really. Long, strong legs and thighs that could crush him. Arms that he has to remind you are sexy when you’re looking at yourself in a dress.
Bokuto is strong, he knows that. He’s been athletic and probably has never been out of shape a day in his life. To be with someone that matches his lifestyle and is amazing at her sport? He considers himself blessed. There’s nobody that understands him like you do.
©️hxltic
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— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —
Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for April 2024! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.
Happy reading!
* and so I have to say (before I go) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed [M, 27k, Harry/Louis]
Sometimes falling in love is taking a leap of faith, jumping into the unknown with your eyes closed, hoping someone will be there to catch you.
Sometimes falling in love is seeing the person in front of you, all their flaws and imperfections, and taking that leap nonetheless.
Sometimes it's both.
In Louis' and Harry's case, it's both.
* Pathema Proteleia by @persephoneflouwers [M, 53k, Louis/Harry]
A few years ago, Omega Prince Harry left his husband and mate Alpha Louis without any apparent reason. When enemies of the Royalty make an attempt on his life and threaten to hurt Omegas, Louis has to ask the Prince for help.
Or The Greek Tragedy AU (but with the happiest ending).
* I Want You Here With Me (Like How I Pictured It) by @enchantedlandcoffee [G, 345 words, Harry/Louis]
"I just- Everyone was there and- and they were all happy and in love and I just- I needed to get out of there, Lou." Harry sniffled, wrapping his coat closer to himself as he trudged down the street. "It's not fair. It's not fair that they all get to be happy and in love and have their partners with them when I can't be with you."
OR The one where Harry misses Louis
* A Frail Farewell by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings [M, 11k+, wip, Louis/Harry]
Louis can’t believe his luck when he is offered one of the easiest jobs he has had as a long-term house-sitter for the wealthy. He loves the money, and the peace and quiet of the empty mansions he looks after. Most of all he likes that there are no surprises until he gets the shock of his life from ex-pop star Harry Styles who isn’t supposed to be home.
* tell me what the hell we're feeling (if you don't do feelings) by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove [M, 4k, Harry/Louis]
Harry is getting over a breakup. Louis doesn't date. Neither of them is interested in a relationship -- but they are interested in each other's bodies. It takes a global pandemic for them to admit that maybe there's more than just lust between them.
* April Drools! by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright [E, 1k, Louis centric ot 5 pairings]
Louis offers a particularly slobbery blow job to his clients who'd rather not be made a fool of on April 1st. Of course, he's got an option for those who don't mind being a little humiliated as well. Part 12 of Glory Hole-idays
* I'm Praying (that you don't burn out or fade away) by @lululawrence [NR, 74k, Louis/Harry]
“Louis,” Harry breathed happily. His smile widened as he realized he’d finally found him, and he was stood before his soulstar. This was the closest they’d been in 31 Earth years, which had felt extraordinarily long for Harry, even in his star form. He could hardly withhold his happiness at seeing him again.
“Erm, yeah,” Louis said, interrupting Harry’s thoughts with his brows furrowing and looking clearly suspicious. “And you are?”
Harry and Louis are literal stars who have known they were soulmates from their creation eons ago, however when Louis came to Earth to start the next phase of their fated future, he forgot everything. Even Harry.
This leaves Harry to break the rules and instead of waiting for Louis to call him and join him on Earth, he crashes down on his own. Without Louis there to guide him and help him learn how to adjust to having a human body and everything associated with that, Harry has no other choice but to do the best he can.
As Harry tries to correct what has gone wrong, he finds that friendship can be a light even in the darkest night, and through those bonds even separated soulstars can find their fated path once more.
* Love Like This by @reminiscingintherain [E, 32k, Zayn/Louis/Liam]
A Zouiam RWRB AU, featuring Louis as the First Son, Liam as the Prince, and Zayn as Liam's friend and equerry. With appearances from Lottie as Louis' helpful sister, Harry as his best friend, and Niall as Liam's golf instructor (or gardener? or something else?).
* Ghost of a Name by @signofcomfort [G, 35k, Louis/Harry]
Louis leaves the band in the middle of the tour and drops off the face of the earth. Five years later, they might have a chance to meet him. Harry can finally have some answers and tell the truth for the first time.
- Podfics -
* Finally, You and I (Collide) by @lululawrence read by @podfic-pals [NR, 14k, Zayn/Louis]
Funny how Louis could sum up everything he’d had with Zayn so easily.
Ex. One syllable, two letters. Fourteen years of friendship and marriage and everything else they had been to each other, put together and explained to anyone who asked with that one tiny word. Ex. Ex-Best Friend. Ex-Lover. Ex-Husband. Ex-everything, really. Zayn had truly become his everything, and Louis still ached in the spaces within that used to be filled by him, even all these years later.
Sometimes love was a bitch.
Or the five times Louis was accidentally wooed by cookies and the one time he was purposefully wooed by brownies.
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Why Dipper is so loved, while Mabel is a broken base...
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I'm not the biggest Mabel fan, but even I believe that all the hate that Mabel sometimes gets is too much...
Why do almost half of the fans get angry at a little girl, while praising a little boy?
Well, we're gonna find out!
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*You see during the beginning of Gravity Falls, we get the idea that Mabel is supposed to be the optimistic heart of the duo, while Dipper is the cynical brain of the team.
*And for a while it was like that, but then came the episode of Mabel teaming up with Grunkle Stan to laugh at Dipper's lack of manliness.
*Which was the first of a bunch of episodes where Mabel (sometimes with Stan) treating Dipper somewhat unfairly.
*Teaming up with Stan to make fun of Dipper for being slightly shorter than her, not trying to help Dipper create a plan that will allow her to keep Waddles and prevent Dipper from accidentally giving Wendy a black eye, taking a picture of Dipper giving reverse CPR to Mabel's mermaid boyfriend to use for blackmail later, laughing at Bill shooting a hole through her brother (I know it's a dream, but still...), getting angry at Dipper for refusing to help Stan (cause Dipper believed that Stan hates him; Mabel could've at least been more sympathetic before going to help Stan)... almost giving away Dipper's journal to Bill (to impress a guy with her play), choosing to trust Stan over her brother (even though the portal could destroy the universe), then afterwards refuses to play his board game and even makes fun of it with Stan (which results in Dipper spending time with Ford), getting jealous that Dipper is spending more time with Ford then with her (which she caused), proceeds to make fun of Dipper again when he calmly calls her out on her teasing, she feels guilty but doesn't give a proper apology (something that even Stan does), gets upset at Dipper for wanting to become Ford's apprentice and stay at Gravity Falls, willingly gives Bill the device that almost ends the world and nobody finds out about it (I know she was tricked but still), refuses to leave her giant bubble until Dipper finally agrees to come home with her and creates a radical brother that would have a 'more supportive attitude'.
*I personally think that Mabel did the right thing by trusting Stan in the end, so Ford could be rescued... the portal still could've destroyed the universe, if Stan had miscalculated something.
*I'm also angrier at Stan for the mocking Dipper times, cause Mabel was a child and children don't know better sometimes, but Stan is an adult and he knows what it's like to be made fun of and yet he still does it to Dipper... no wonder Dipper briefly believed that Stan hated him... and no wonder Ford quickly became Dipper's Favorite Grunkle.
*As for accidentally almost starting the apocalypse, I don't completely blame Mabel for what happened, but the other characters deserved to know the truth and I'm surprised that Bill didn't tell them to cause drama.
*When all these things are stacked together, it's not a pretty picture.
While in comparison to Dipper, the brother is actually already quite supportive:
*Saves Mabel from gnomes despite Mabel yelling at him, he was willing to break up with Gideon for Mabel, he gave up his chance to be with Wendy twice to make Mabel happy, he doesn't make fun of Mabel's flaws, he comforts Mabel when she's sad, he helps Mabel whenever she asks for it (even when he doesn't like the thing that they're doing), he's always forgiving with Mabel, he's viciously protective of Mabel and gave up being Ford's apprentice to make Mabel happy.
*So, yeah the twins do have a bit of an all take, no give relationship... the writers could've handled it a little bit better.
*It doesn't help that Mabel technically does get called out on how she treats Dipper in Season 2, but the people that call her out are the Main Villain and a jerky unicorn, who are seen as in the wrong (but even the villains can make decent points sometimes)... Mabel had a chance to get proper character development and become a better sister after saving Dipper from Bill's possession... but Mabel doesn't really grow much as a person, not even during the finale... she's almost the same as she was during Season 1.
*Meanwhile with Dipper, he slowly becomes less cynical and socially awkward as well as braver and more kind-hearted over the course of the show... he even handled the fact that Wendy wants to simply remain friends beautifully... he still has a crush, but he respects her wishes.
*In contrast to Mabel, who keeps falling in love with guys and trying to force a romance, instead of letting it happen naturally or realizing that she doesn't need a boy to be happy... she also uses a love potion on Robbie and another girl to basically force them to get together and this is later seen as an okay thing (when Robbie hypnotizing Wendy with romantic music was seen as wrong).
*Even Stan and Ford go through a bit more character development then Mabel does.
*I think that's what truly bothers the fans... Dipper goes through character development, learns some lessons and slowly becomes a better person... while Mabel remains the same.
*Mabel isn't a horrible person... she's a fun, creative and energetic girl... but she wouldn't exactly be winning any 'Sister of the Year' Awards either.
*It's disappointing, because Mabel's character had so much potential... and the writers make her repeat the same mistakes... if they did handle Mabel's character better, she'd probably be almost as loved as Dipper.
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cherrysnip · 7 hours
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just that — chwe hansol
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pairing: vernon x afab!reader
prompt: "are you guys dating?" or that one time you strongly denied your relationship and he got sulky(?)
a/n: another fic for my fave secret dating x brother's bestfriend trope >.<. this was initially posted on another site before i decided to took it down and let it sit on my drafts for a year lol.
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It was already two in the morning but you were still wide awake. With all the things you have done the whole day, it was expected that everyone, including you, would doze off as soon as you get on your beds. Unfortunately, you didn't.
The guilt that has been consuming you since earlier is what's actually making it hard for you to sleep. You had been rolling on the bed too many times as if that would help ease the regret you had been feeling (spoiler alert: it didn't).
When you arrived at your vacation house this morning, you and Vernon had tried to be as discreet with your relationship as possible. You going on a trip together wasn't a new sight, anyway. Vernon and your older brother, Wonwoo had been friends since freshmen year of college so the former is usually invited in times like this and so you both thought you could just let this three days pass without anyone knowing what you really have. However, it seemed like Wonwoo already had a hint about it and had been watching you the entire time. And alas! While you were having dinner, the million-dollar question was finally dropped.
"Are you guys dating?"
Vernon was about to answer but you suddenly panicked and was the one who replied instead, "Of course not. He is just like an older brother to me!"
As soon as you said it, you already wanted to take it back. But it was too late. Vernon may not have said a word but the disappointed look on his face spoke volumes. After that, you avoided each other for the rest of the night.
To be honest, this had been a subject of your arguments a couple of times before. Vernon wanted to tell your friends and families that you have been together for four months already but you're against it. It isn't because you were embarassed about your relationship or afraid that your family would say something negative (if anything, they're very very supportive). It's just that you wanted to enjoy the privacy you had without others minding your business, especially your brother Wonwoo who had been protective of you since your fallout with Joshua, even though it had been years and you have already moved on. He's also the reason why your past suitors had immediately scrammed away after going through the interrogation stage.
"Stop scaring them, will you?" You remembered complaining one time but your brother just shrugged.
"If they get scared of me and give up that easily then they're not really willing to fight for you. People like that are not worth it."
You knew you brother means well but sometimes you just want him to tone down the scare meter a little bit. Because if this continues, you might end up being single for the rest of his life.
But then, Vernon happened.
You already knew who Vernon was since he was a senior in high school. Vernon lives alone because the rest of his family is in another country. That's why when he gets a weekend off from the university, he would tag along with Wonwoo to your house to hang out. He is basically a part of your family now. However, the both of them didn't got the chance to talk to each other because you were busy studying and usually just stays in your room the whole day when Vernon visits.
That set-up lasted for months until your first day in college. Wonwoo was supposed to give you the tour but had to cancel since he had to attend to something urgently. Of course, knowing you would whine about it nonstop, Wonwoo sent another person to guide you.
It's none other than *drum rolls please*, his best friend, Vernon. Surprise, surprise!
"Hi," that was just the first word that Vernon said to you (while sporting that smile that YOU swear would actually make anyone melt if possible), but you already knew you would fall for him. HARD.
You wouldn't admit it at first. The guy's nice (and freaking handsome and hot too) but you didn't want to give meaning to that kindness because you thought Vernon might just be doing it because you are his bestfriend's sister. However, it wasn't easy to supress the feelings when every time your eyes meet or when you smile at each other, butterflies would fill your stomach.
Not to mention, Vernon would also never forget to buy you your fave Iced Americano every chance he gets.
Luckily, it isn't a one-sided affection. Because apparently, Vernon is feeling the same towards you. The confession was nothing grand but for you, it was romantic and perfect.
It was in the middle of the crowd, during the Music Festival as your university's resident band was playing Enchanted by Taylor Swift, when Vernon looked at you directly in the eye and told you, "I like you so much y/n. I know this might be too sudden for you but I've been keeping this for a while and I just want to let it out. It's alright if you won't like me back ---"
"Shut up. I like you too," You replied while chuckling. You found Vernon blabbering cute because most of the time when you're together, you did the most talking and he would just agree and smile at you every now and then.
That was also the night that your relationship became official.
What followed was the happiest four months of your life. But now you're afraid that it would be cut short if you won't reconcile with Vernon as soon as possible.
You weren't able to take it anymore so you finally got up and carefully tiptoed as you went out of the room. You were just about to go to the next room but you heard a soft mumbling sound from the living room. That's when you realized that someone other than you were still up and is watching the television.
At first, you thought it was your brother but when you saw the brown hair peeking on the couch's headrest, it was a confirmation that it was him—your boyfriend.
Biting your lower lip, you walked towards Vernon who still haven't noticed that you were there. It didn't seem like he was focused to what he was watching, he was more like 'spacing out".
"Nonie?" You called softly and poked at Vernon's arm. The latter automatically looked up to you and blinked multiple times, probably making sure if you were really there or just his imagination.
"Why are you still awake?" Vernon reached for your hand and squeezed it lightly. You resisted yourself from crying because of how sweet your boyfriend is right now when he should be mad at you.
"I'm sorry about earlier," you said but Vernon shook his head.
"I should be the one saying sorry, babe. I told you I would respect your decision but I still acted up."
"But I know you're upset about it, Nonie."
"No. A little disappointed, I guess. I just don't want to hide anything anymore, especially our relationship. I don't want this to stay like a dirty secret because it's not."
You nodded and came over to sit on Vernon's lap. Your boyfriend was obviously taken aback but he just let you be eventually. He even encircled his arms in your waist to pull you closer.
"Okay. We'll tell them tomorrow."
Vernon's eyes widened. "Tomorrow?"
"Why are you so surprised?" You let out a laugh. "Are you still not ready?'
"Of course, I am. I've been preparing for it for months,"
"So you're not scared of Wonwoo-oppa?"
"As my friend, no. But as your brother, yes. I can even imagine him strangling me the second he finds about us."
You both knew that's far from Wonwoo's personality so he would most likely not do that but who knows? It could be worse.
"You'll be fine, Nonie. But if ever you get broken bones, don't worry, there's a nearby hospital, we can just--aw" you tried teasing him but Vernon was already pinching your nose before you could even finish your sentence.
"You're lucky I would do anything for you."
—♡—
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nick-close · 6 months
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Idk why when it comes to Glenn people forget about the generational trauma aspect of the podcast entirely. Don’t get me wrong, you don’t have to like him- but people act like he acts this way because he was just. Born a bad person. Chose to be that way. But for Henry or Ron, because they face a much more direct form of abuse it’s easy to spot- and the way it affected them is ironically more palatable for people.
Idk, people can’t stand the idea that trauma makes you a worse person sometimes. Sometimes you don’t get a fear of expressing anger, or people pleasing, or awkward and funny misinterpretations. Sometimes you just avoid being vulnerable or accountable and end up childish. Hell, we see this with the s2 dads sometimes too. If Sparrow ended up like this, it isn’t because his dad did everything right and he decided to fuck it all up. Shit happened!!! There’s always a cycle!!!
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your--isgayrights · 2 years
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It’s orvuto anon again, I stalled on your pinned post again — experimental neuroscience?? :eyes:
Yesss. I'm actually an undergrad neuroscience major... Like writing and art and stuff is just for fun, I wanna be a research neuroscientist one day lol.
#That's why I practically haven't posted the past few weeks cuz I'm back in school#I'm also in a lot of east asian history classes because I'm minoring in east asian language and lit for fun#and I've been running into this barrier recently where I feel like its hard to explain to people the overlap that exists between hard#science and the needs of the individuals that science is supposed to help you know#like for me the reason being a research neuroscientist is so appealing is because if you're going to pick a job where you mostly do busy#work all day then being in a research field just means you know that whatever pointless thing you're doing or failed experiment you perform#everything you do is a piece of data that's going to contribute to this greater process that really has tangible eeffects in helping real#people who suffer from neurological disease. which I think is comforting in a world where doing a little never feels like enough#What I've been thinking about lately though is that I have an inherent belief in that system because I really believe in the ability of#people to do good in it because I'm coming from the same frame of rationalist mindset that a lot of research is based in but that in#clinical applications there are a lot of inherent biases that prevent people from knowing what illnesses they have and how to receive#treatment for them... because in my east asian history classes we've been talking about different belief systems and ways of thought#that sometimes have to do with medicine or psychology. and I always think that it's interesting to analyze practices that are mysticized in#modernity through that lense. but it's become apparent to me that it's hard to express that interest as genuine to religious people without#them feeling as though I'm dismissing their beliefs rather than trying to analyze how they interact with the physical reality that I know.#and it made me realize that the dismissiveness of western science towards religion combined with ableism in society makes it hard for peop#le who have the symptoms of things like psychosis or mood disorders that might have an associated role in a religion to feel like#psychiatric diagnosis or treatment isn't a complete insult to who they are as a person and I think that's the fault of a lack of compassion#and respect for others in clinical practice... its just like a social norm that i really wish would change. because i don't think physical#reality has to be dismissive of spiritual beliefs when acknowledged but because of some of the habits of western scientists and#certain subsects of christianity people don't think about it enough to have that conversation sometimes...#that's just what i've been thinking about lately lol.#personal#ask#anonymous
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insanechayne · 5 months
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~ ~ ~
#sometimes I wonder if this is worth all the trouble it’s caused me#to keep holding on to someone who seems to want to be let go#trying harder and harder to keep this friendship going but every day we break down a little more#I still have so many questions that I need answers to but I know you won’t give me that clarity#time is supposed to heal all wounds but mine have only gotten worse the longer we’ve let things last this way#I just don’t have anyone or anything that can fully replace you or what you do for me#I know you’re toxic and you used me and I have better friends in my real life and my wonderful girlfriend with me#I know I have everyone’s support but I still can’t let you go#you’ve always been my safe space and we talk every single day and I can tell you anything and I just don’t have that with anyone else#the transition process is slow and grueling and I’m not strong enough to fully see it through#part of me wishes I’d never met you because look how much we’ve hurt and ruined each other#part of me wishes I’d met you sooner so I could have had more time with you the way we used to be#I wish I had someone I could just rant all of this out to without consequence#just tell them the whole story from an outside perspective and get some help with all of this bullshit#I feel like I’m burdening my girlfriend when I talk about you#I feel like I’m annoying my friends if I’m complaining about us#I can’t talk to you because you just get upset and shut me down#I’m so messed up and confused and I don’t know what to do anymore#so I make these stupid tag posts on here that you’ll never see and just let my feelings out#because where else better to do that than on my own personal blog right#I wish I could just turn all of these emotions off and stop caring about you and distance myself until I could fully cut you off#feel like I’m just dangling from strings here like a marionette that you’re toying with#personal
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dreamingpine · 5 months
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i really like them, but i also hate them. but im not really sure if i actually hate them or if i just like. hate the me i see in them. but like. is this feeling hate? or just like...disappointment?
#well they didnt /want/ to get better. not like you mc. someone who doesnt work hard. they dont-#-deserve to be saved. they wanted this so its only right that we dont geel bad mc.#that idea from before. more thinkings#so like. im really digging the scapegoat character;but this is probably because they look i used for them was a defult i use for when “i”#have to be in a story [reader insert; dating sim; etc] but i really dont want “me” in the story#and that character has become like...their own thing that has many versions of the same person. anyway.#i really like this chacter because its like. they're so chill. but so so resigned to it all. its not that they dont care#they just. dont have a reason to anymore. if they even did at all. “its just like that sometimes.”#they just go with it. because. way to much effort to fight against it. fight that good fight. and then i think about mc#who they are supposed to be a shadow of.#mc fights that good fight. they're life is screwed but they're /working/ on it. they want to get better#they want to live better. they want to be alive. they want to help but sometimes its to much. you know#typical mc fashion.#mc is like. okay.#im putting to much of myself in these characters but maybe thats why im so into this right now.#mc is like the person i want to be. whos going through it all but they want to get better. they have the blood on their knuckles#and determination and fear and /hope/. they keep saying it'll get better and they'll make it that way on god#and i want that for me but its so...so so hard you know?#and then theres shadow. or doppel. whatever#they're resigned and its just to hard to fight its so much easier to do the bare minimum even if thats getting harder#and harder by the day. but they do it. they dont have anything else going on. no dreams; no goals; no future. they're just here#so when asked to be mc's shadow its just a “whatever” thing#any frustration they might have felt gone with years of being worn down#they dont /want/ to get better. dont want to put in the work and. i like that.#there's no one thats gonna hold their hand on the path to getting better and they know that. thats also why its so easy to just live this#way since its like. normal now.#and that brings me to mc's dilemma. mc doesnt want to do thsi role that will kill them. they want to get better.#so when someone takes that role; willingly even; does that make mc “bad” for feeling relief?#but like. how would they know if this was something they wanted?#..personally. as the person writing this and the person who realtes to these 2 mc's. i wonder
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maniculum · 7 months
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Medieval Scorpions Effortpost
So yesterday I reblogged this post featuring an 11th-century depiction of the Apocalypse Locusts from Revelations, noting the following incongruity as another medieval scorpion issue:
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The artist, as you can see, has interpreted "tails like scorpions" as meaning "glue cheerful-looking snakes to their butts".
Anyway, it occurred to me that the medieval scorpion thing might not be as widely known as I think it is, and that Tumblr would probably enjoy knowing about it if it isn't known already. So, finding myself unable to focus on the research I'm supposed to be doing, I decided to write about this instead. I'll just go ahead and put a cut here.
As we can see in the image above, at least one artist out there thought a "scorpion" was a type of snake. Which makes it difficult to draw "tails like scorpions", because a snake's tail is not that distinctive or menacing (maybe rattlesnakes, but they don't have those outside the Americas). So they interpreted "tails like scorpions" as "the tail looks like a whole snake complete with head".
Let me tell you. This is not a problem unique to this illustration.
See, people throughout medieval Europe were aware of scorpions. As just alluded to, they are mentioned in the Bible, and if the people producing manuscripts in medieval Europe knew one thing, it was Stuff In Bible. They're also in the Zodiac, which medieval Europe had inherited through classical sources. However, let's take a look at this map:
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That's Wikipedia's map of the native range of the Scorpiones order, i.e., all scorpion species. You may notice something -- the range just stops at a certain northern latitude. Pretty much all of northern Europe is scorpion-free. If you lived in the north half of Europe, odds were good you had never seen a scorpion in your life. But if you were literate or educated at all, or you knew they were a thing, because you'd almost certainly run across them being mentioned in texts from farther south. And those texts wouldn't bother to explain what a scorpion was, of course -- everyone knows scorpions, right? When was the last time you stopped to explain What Is Spiders?
So medieval writers and artists in northern Europe were kind of stuck. There was all this scorpion imagery and metaphor in the texts they liked to work from, but they didn't really know what a scorpion was. Writers could kind of work around it (there's a lot of "oh, it's a venomous creature, moving on"), but sometimes they felt the need to break it down better. For this, of course, they'd have to refer to a bestiary -- but due to Bestiary Telephone and the persistent need of bestiary authors to turn animals into allegories, one of the only visual details you got on scorpions was that they... had a beautiful face, which they used to distract people in order to sting them.
And look. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but I would say that a scorpion's face has significant aesthetic appeal only for a fairly small segment of the population. I'm sure you could get an entomologist to rhapsodize about it a bit, but your average person on the street will not be entranced by the face of a scorpion. So this did not help the medieval Europeans in figuring out how to depict scorpions. There was also some semantic confusion -- see, in some languages (such as Old and Middle English), "worm" could be a general term for very small animals of any kind. But it also could mean "serpent".* So there were some, like our artist at the top of the post, who were pretty sure a scorpion was a snake. This was probably helped along by the fact that "venomous" was one of the only things everyone knew about them, and hey, snakes are venomous. Also, Pliny the Elder had floated the idea that there were scorpions in Africa that could fly, and at least one author (13th-century monk Bartholomaeus Anglicus) therefore suggested that they had feathers. I don't see that last one coming up much, I just share it because it's funny to me.
*English eventually resolved this by borrowing the Latin vermin for very small animals, using the specialized spelling wyrm for big impressive mythical-type serpents, and sticking with the more specific snake for normal serpents.
Some authors, like the anonymous author of the Ancrene Wisse, therefore suggested that a scorpion was a snake with a woman's face and a stinging tail. (Everyone seemed to be on the same page with regards to the fact that the sting was in the tail, which is in fact probably the most recognizable aspect of scorpions, so good job there.) However, while authors could avoid this problem, visual artists could not. And if you were illustrating a bestiary or a calendar, including a scorpion was not optional. So they had to take a shot at what this thing looked like.
And so, after this way-too-long explanation, the thing you're probably here for: inaccurate medieval drawings of scorpions. (There are of course accurate medieval drawings of scorpions, from artists who lived in the southern part of Europe and/or visited places where scorpions lived; I'm just not showing you those.) And if you find yourself wondering, "how sure are you that that's meant to be a scorpion?" -- all of these are either from bestiaries or from calendars that include zodiac illustrations.
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11th-century England, MS Arundel 60. (Be honest, without the rest of this post, if I had asked you to guess what animal this was supposed to be, would you have ever guessed “scorpion”?)
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12th-century Germany, "Psalter of Henry the Lion". (Looks a bit undercooked. Kind of fetal.)
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12th-century France, Peter Lombard's Sententiae. (Very colorful, itsy bitsy claws, what is happening with that tail?)
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12th-century England, "The Shaftesbury Psalter". (So a scorpion is some sort of wyvern with a face like a duck, correct?)
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13th-century France, Thomas de Cantimpré's Liber de natura rerum. (I’d give them credit for the silhouette not being that far off, but there’s a certain bestiary style where all the animals kind of look like that. Also note how few of these have claws.)
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13th-century England, "The Bodley Bestiary". (Mischievous flying squirrel impales local man’s hand, local man fails to notice.)
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13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (A scorpion is definitely either a mouse or a fish. Either way it has six legs.)
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13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Wait, no, it’s a baby theropod, and it has two legs. (Yes, this is the same manuscript, that’s not an error, this artist did four scorpions and no two are the same.))
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13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Actually it’s a lizard with tiny ears and it has four legs.)
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13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Now that we’re at the big fancy illustration, I think I’ve got it — it’s like that last one, but two legs, longer ears, and a less goofy face. Also I’ve decided it’s not pink anymore, I think that was the main problem.)
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13th-century England, MS Kk.4.25. (A scorpion is a flat crocodile with a bear’s head.)
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13th-century England, "The Huth Psalter". (Wyvern but baby! Does not seem to be enjoying biting its own tail.)
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13th-century England, MS Royal 1 D X. (This triangular-headed gentlecreature gets the award for “closest guess at correct limb configuration”. If two of those were claws, I might actually believe this artist had seen a scorpion before, or at least a picture of one.)
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13th-century England, "The Westminster Psalter". (A scorpion is the offspring of a wyvern and a fawn.)
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13th-century England, "The Rutland Psalter". (Too many legs! Pull back! Pull back!)
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13th or 14th-century France, Bestiaire d'amour rimé. (This is very similar to the fawn-wyvern, but putting it in an actual Scene makes it even more obvious that you’re just guessing.)
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14th-century Netherlands, Jacob van Maerlant's Der Naturen Bloeme. (More top-down six-legged guys that look too furry to be arthropods.)
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14th-century Germany, MS Additional 22413. (That is clearly a turtle.)
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14th-century France, Matfres Eymengau de Beziers's Breviari d'amor. (Who came up with that head shape and what was their deal?)
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15th-century England, "Bestiary of Ann Walsh". (Screw it, a scorpion is a big lizard that glares at you for trying to make me draw things I don’t know about.)
I've spent way too much time on this now. End of post, thank you to anyone who got all the way down here.
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janitorhutcherson · 5 months
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Marked Only for Me (Olderbf!Mike Schmidt NSFW)
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hii!! okay, i have never written smut before, so i am begging you all to plz be patient with me! this is very long, so my apologies.this is a part of my olderbf!mike series, so hope u guys likeee. also, for this let's make the assumption mike went to college and all of that before his security jobs. he just had burn out and was there, hence why he's working for a major company with what would be little experience. anyways, lmk what u think!
summary: mike comes home and needs to blow off some steam
warnings: nudity, sex, name calling, hair pulling, choking, marking, possessiveness, an implied free use situation, fluff at the end!!
word count: 2,925
nsfw after the cut!!
You were sitting at the kitchen table doing homework in the home you shared with your boyfriend, Mike. You're 20, a couple of years into college, drudging through math problems that make your head feel like it's sitting inside a frying pan. You had to admit this wasn't your ideal way to relax after a 10-hour shift at the bookstore you helped run. Things had been hectic with Black Friday, your store doing a special sale where everything was 50% off, and bookworms were coming out of random corners to fill their already overflowing shelves for cheap. Of course, being younger, you were the one who had to do the grunt work, carrying piles of books to and from inventory, dealing with the more demanding customers as your older coworkers would tell you that they "just couldn't handle kids these days" and that it'd certainly be better for the younger one to do it. Luckily, though, Abby was at a friend's house, meaning you didn't have distractions. You were as focused as could be with a cup of coffee beside you, the sunlight that was once beaming through the cracks of the blinds now completely gone. You were focused, your brain functioning as much as it would with the problems. Things were quiet.
...That is until Mike stormed in. He was frustrated, angry, an invisible red-hot aura beaming off him. His hair was messier than it typically was. The softness in his eyes was instead replaced with a cold look. His eyebrows were furrowed together on his forehead, his jaw sharp and defined as he gritted his teeth. Although this wasn't common, it wasn't necessarily rare either. Mike worked for a publishing company as a marketing manager. He'd gotten the job after a few months of hard work to make up for the slack on his resume after working at the mall and the pizzeria. He moved up the ladder quickly, his company admiring his friendly attitude and his somewhat shy but personable behavior. He loved his job much more than his past ones. He felt happier, got more time off, was less stressed, and was definitely safer. Even with that being said, sometimes shit just pissed him off.
Today's big issue was a meeting with his marketing team, which also involved the big guy over his head. He felt like he was criticized, demeaned, dragged through the mud, and all in front of the team he was supposed to be respected by, listened to. On a typical day, this might not have pissed him off so much. He might've mentally plotted the demise of his boss, but he wouldn't have caused the outburst he did at work, and today had been particularly awful. He'd been late, burned his breakfast, knicked himself while shaving, and even gotten into what he considered to be a little fight with you the night before. Even though you'd both settled the argument, made up, and kissed before bed, he had been thinking about it all day. He'd then spilled coffee on his brand new tie, leaving a stain, and then... that happened. Mike snapped. He yelled at his boss, showing his ass in front of everyone, causing a meeting in his boss's office to end with an inevitable write-up. 
Now, he was home, trudging in all his bad energy, disrupting your study time. You couldn't even be frustrated with him, his demeanor proving he'd obviously had a bad day. You went to stand up to greet him with a hug, a kiss or two, but before you could, Mike stormed over to you, grabbing your arm harshly. You gasped, slightly thrown off by his sudden actions. He pulled you closer to him, his eyes locked on yours and his breath heavy against your neck.
"What the fuck, Mike?" you said, your eyebrows furrowed as you stared into his cold brown-green orbs.
"Listen to me," he grunted, his voice low and gravely. "I have had a very, very bad day, and I need you to be a good girl for me, okay? I don't want no shit, no back talk, you'll listen to what I say.. do you understand?" 
His hand still gripped your arm, his fingernails digging into your skin. You could feel yourself starting to drip, your panties feeling damp against your skin as your body buzzed with excitement. All you could do was nod your head, your eyes locked on his as they clouded over with lust. Mike snapped his fingers in your face, looking at you from underneath his eyebrows. 
"Use your words," he demanded. 
"Yes sir, I understand," you stuttered out, your cheeks flushing red. Mike's face was now pleased, his entire demeanor softening a little. His hand stayed wrapped around your arm as he tugged you into the living room, pushing you roughly onto the couch. You huffed from the impact, your eyes widening as Mike dropped to his knees before you. He slid your sweatpants off, prying your knees open to reveal your see-through pink panties soaked beyond belief. His eyes were hungry, his mouth open, almost drooling as he looked directly into your eyes. 
"All for me, babydoll?" he teased, his hand sliding in between your legs as he drew small circles around your clothed clit. You nodded your head as a whimper escaped your lips, the aching in between your legs only growing worse.
"What did I tell you?" he said, his words sharp as he smacked the inside of your thigh.
"Yes sir," you corrected, your words wavering after the impact from his hand. Mike nodded, satisfied with your answer, as he slowly slid your panties down your thighs, wasting no time. You gasped once again as the cold air hit your wet cunt. Mike exhaled sharply, taking a moment to admire you in front of him. His eyes trailed up to your pathetic look, your already-glazed-over eyes, down to your barely clothed chest, only a sports bra covering your breasts he loved so much, then down to in between your legs, where you were so wet, and all just for him. His lips trailed up to your tummy, sucking on the skin in different areas, from above your abdomen all the way up to right below where your sports bra stayed, purple marks forming.
He then dove in without hesitation, his large hands gripping your sides as he leaned in, moving one hand to take his index and middle finger to spread your pussy lips. His mouth instantly attached to your clit. You yelped as you bucked your hips forward, his lips meeting the sensitive area. Mike pinched your thigh, a sign to quiet down until he said to do otherwise, two of his fingers reaching out to be shoved into your mouth.
“Suck,” he demanded, his fingers going as far back down your throat as they could. You did what you were told, sucking on his fingers and drawing your own circles with your tongue. His tongue drew tiny and slow circles against the set of nerves, your hands reaching down to tangle in his hair from desperation. God, he loved eating you out. The way you yelped, quivered, shook underneath him, your hands tangled in his hair to keep yourself from going over the edge. He fucking loved it, you were the perfect cure to his anger, calming, something he could take it out on in a productive way that made everyone feel good. Your whines were suppressed as you bit your lip, your teeth digging into the softer skin. Mike pulled away for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once again as he admired your face, your now swollen lips.
“You know what, baby? Be as loud as you want for me now, princess,” he mumbled, going back to attacking your wet cunt. Slurping sounds filled the living room mixed with your moans and whimpers as his tongue slid up and down your slit, his lips wrapping around your clit to suck as hard as possible when his tongue wasn’t fucking inside of you. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. His cock was rock hard inside of his work pants, his own face flustered as he rocked back and forth against himself. His tongue continued to lap at your clit as he slid two of his large fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them. You could feel yourself drawing close and Mike could tell. Your thighs attempted to clench around his head, but before they could his calloused hands pried them open, holding them apart. Just as your eyes began to clamp shut, your thighs shaking as the knot in your stomach started to untie, Mike pulled away. You gasped as he slipped his fingers out, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared at him with an angry glare. He chuckled as he stood up, raising his eyebrows up and down as he leaned down, his hand lifting your chin up.
“Poor baby, was all ready to finish for me, hm? You were gonna be ‘Mikey’s little slut,’ weren’t you? That’s what you tell me you are, right? My little slut?” he teased, no remorse behind his eyes. You huffed, punching his arm before crossing your arm, too out of it to say anything from the knot that remained in your stomach but too angry to take initiative.
“Awh, don’t be mad, princess,” he snickered, shaking his head as he leaned further down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “You really think I’m done with you?”
With that being said, Mike pushing you back on the couch. His right hand held you down as his lift struggled to unbutton his pants. He pulled his pants down, letting them fall around his ankles as he yanked his boxers off, his cock springing out. He stepped out of them, letting you go for a moment to unbutton his shirt before tossing it off as well. Mike then looked over to you, leaning forward, ripping your thin sports bra off of your chest, your breasts now exposed to him. He licked his lips, excitement overflowing his body. He crawled on top of you, attempting to make the two of you fit on the couch. His mouth attacked your nipples, biting and gnawing at your skin. His mouth moved up to your neck, sucking and prodding and biting until purple marks were left all around, ones you were all too aware would be impossible to hide later on. He moved down to your chest once again, marks all across your collarbone, your tits. Mike’s hands gripped onto your neck as he sat up, looking into your glossed over eyes. He pressed his lips to your ear, a soft kiss against your earlobe.
“’M about to fuck you so hard you see stars,” he said, his voice causing prickles to cover your skin. Then, without hesitation Mike slammed into you, his pace staggered. Your moans were as loud as could be, the sound of skin hitting against each other and the echoes of both of your voices filling the living room. His thrusts were sloppy as he felt himself starting to get close to the edge, his hands pushing your hips down and into the couch. Your entire body sunk into the cushions as he used everything in him, his cock abusing your poor cunt. You swore you saw stars until you felt his hand gently smack against your cheek, your eyes averting back to his gaze.
“You’re gonna look at me when I fuck you, princess,” he growled, his hand sliding up to your hair as he tugged. You grew close, clenching around his length, your thighs starting to shake. Your core was threatening to come undone.
“Fuck, Mikey, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum,” you whimpered out, closing your eyes as your head leaned back against the side of the couch.
“Cum for me, baby,” Mike stated. You did as he demanded, finishing around his cock as your liquids gushed against him. His thrusts grew sloppier before he pulled out, pressing a kiss to your lips.
“You’re such a good girl, you know that baby? You did so good for me, listening to what I said, letting me use your pretty cunt,” he stated, his thumb caressing your cheek. He then resituated, pulling you off the couch, pushing you onto the ground. You were now in the same position he was in earlier, completely fucked out. Your lips were dull from exhaustion, your cheeks red and your hair knotted in certain areas. Mike’s cock was directly in front of you, his hand guiding for you to suck on him. Your lips wrapped around his tip, the tip of your tongue licking his slit. You worked your mouth down his length, licking the sides. Mike’s moans became frantic, desperate as your mouth worked its magic. His hand tangled in your hair as he pushed your head up and down, thrusting up into your mouth.
“That’s it, baby, feels so good,” he grunted. With no warning, Mike pulled out, spilling his load all over your face. He twitched, his moans loud and low, your tongue stuck out to catch his cum. His body laid against the couch, feeling heavy as his head leaned against the back of his couch. A tired grin was on his lips as you also smiled up at him, licking yourself clean. Mike looked down at you, a chuckle releasing his lips. It was obvious all of the tension and anger was gone, as his once cold eyes were once again the soft loving brown they used to be. He looked at you with adoration, always amused by how gorgeous you were even after rigorous activity and getting your face painted.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, picking you up bridal style as he leaned down to kiss you, not caring about his own load that was now on his face. He sat you down on the bathroom counter, grabbing a washcloth out of the cabinet, running it under warm water. He started to wipe away all of the liquids covering your face, pressing kisses to your skin here and there, looking your body up and down as he admired all of the marks he left.
“You always know how to make me feel good and how to take care of me after,” you croaked out, your voice laced with exhaustion as you smiled. Mike smiled back at you, his hand tenderly touching your cheek before pushing your hair behind your ear.
“I love you, of course I want to make sure ‘m taking care of you,” he said softly. His lips once again pressed against yours. “Thank you for letting me… you know.. blow off some steam,” he said, wiggling his brows.
“Of course, honey. I was worried, though. Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, leaning forward as you slid off of the counter, grabbing a new washcloth and beginning to wipe his face with it as well. Mike sighed, shaking his head as he looked at her with sad eyes.
“I just- I got into it pretty badly with my boss at work and got criticized, I felt like a wounded animal, like I had to fight. I’m so used to having to fight that I don’t know how to shut up and listen,” he mumbled. “It was so bad, Y/N, and I got written up after that awful day I had this morning… I just.. I don’t know. I do know I feel better now, and would feel even better if we cuddled for a bit and then went out for food?” he suggested, spilling his thoughts to you. You giggled, nodding your head as you reached up to press a kiss to him. You dragged him into your shared bedroom, the two of you cuddling up together under the blankets. You turned to your side, your eyes locked with his.
“I love you, Mike, so much. And I’m so, so unbelievably proud of you. Thank you, for always making me feel good too, for taking care of me, for being such a good brother to Abby, just… thank you,” you said softly. Mike looked back at you lovingly, his appreciation for you apparent.
“I love you, princess, you don’t even know how much,” he mumbled. His eyes were heavy. He leaned over and set an alarm for an hour from now, the two of you planning on a night of dinner out and grocery shopping. He curled his arm around you lazily, your body limp and exhausted against his as you yawned.
“Oh, and baby?” he asked. You hummed, lifting your head to meet his eyes. “Wear a crop top when we go out, I want everyone to see you all marked up.” You giggled as you laid your head down, drifting off to sleep.
When you two went out, you did just that, wearing a cropped scoop neck shirt with a low-rise flowy skirt. He showed off any marks you’d left, too, your possessive boyfriend holding you close anytime someone’s eyes linger too long. Mike was strange, possessive, and sometimes a little of what most would say was unsettling, but to you, he was the love of your life, the man who made you feel good, the one who fucked you until you couldn’t think. You loved him, and you always would, blessing you with a lifelong supply of angry sex and aftercare cuddles.
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truethes · 1 year
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the sheer audacity of s.v 128 is going to haunt me for the next year or two so i'm just going to blurt out my feelings when it comes to adam/kur.o/inner!sl.oth like the fan i am because this has me so😭 every single time i read it,
first off, adam ... i am so sorry, adam. the young boy who died 500+ years ago has never had the opportunity to be properly buried, has been nothing but a ghost clung onto by those who wish to shine through him all these years later. the count, a man he never knew (as far as we are aware) created a system to chain his entire life to him, simply because he had never been able to fully process the grief over such a unpredictable death. adam was never mourned by the village who let him take blame as their sacrifice, never mourned by the one who claimed to wish to stay by his side forever by disrespecting his wishes to him, but was never mourned by himself, either. for hundreds of years ku.ro clung onto the idea that he could somehow change things and become adam again, from his first stinging question to gear in the woods all those years ago: "do i no longer look human?", because there had always been that hope. ku.ro's feigned ignorance to who he was meant adam, the boy who had already accepted his passing, could never rest so peacefully. just like the count could never claim a form to his grief, adam could never claim the form of who he was. not until ku.ro understood the reality of the situation at hand. mah.iru was right, a person who died could never come back ---- not the same, anyway. his time to rest was long ago, but someone like him could never have complained over it. to have been sent off by two prayers straight from the heart, one being the respect of his own... adam may have gone, but there will always be a part of him in ku.ro. even in his memories, that is.
inn.er!sloth really was just ... asking to help ku.ro for all these years. he's been the bad guy throughout a lot of ku.ro's early memories, and even in this chapter plays the role of an antagonistic character rather well ... in the end he had never wanted the counts world disrupted, but he had looked out for ku.ro and wished to make him stronger above all else. for years, he has simply danced with himself while the one most precious to him had considered him naught but a memory, so much so that once kur.o had finally offered a hand out, there had truly been that moment of shock. misunderstood might be the best word for him, the bad guy who wasn't fully bad in the first place. the mention of how a demons rage seems to come from rejection is something painful for a lonely soul, too.
ku.ro ... how much he's grown, in this chapter. with ku.ro, we've gone through the whole 5 stages of grief in this manga, and the sight of the acceptance stage really signals how much that's come to the end. despite his hatred of the serv.amp dynamic, everything vampirelike and inhumane in the slightest, his own interpersonal relationships rely so heavily on the same promise the count had, that with distance and time and separation, then a bond would simply cease to exist. ku.ro has always held a good relationship with humans, but that doesn't mean he considered them long lasting. even gea.r, whom he spent hundreds of years with, was considered someone who would simply stop because ku.ro chose to separate and instead, like a contract, doubted he would ever want to see him again after all they did. the count had ku.ro under similar ideals to his own, and the parallels between the two this chapter is something striking. ku.ro has finally broken free of those kinds of chains, and accepted the first friend he's made in years into his life. he chooses to look forward to the future, despite the past he has clung onto and lamented on his entire life. to accept his demon ... was a move he didn't even think he would take four days ago, but to go to the levels of understanding him ... that's important too.
ashes to ashes as a concept in christian.ity defined simply as: remember that god always has a plan. though you’re to return to dust, you’re also to be resurrected by christ himself when the time comes. it's used in a literal sense, in this case, but also a reminder that life can be lived to the fullest. adam had borrowed time, but ku.ro and inner!slo.th have what may feel like forever. mah.iru has borrowed time, and ku.ro knows he wants to spend his life doing more than just worrying about the time he'll forget him.
this is a turning point, and i am so ready to see where it leads. sorry you caught the eye and created the entire blood contract system by catching the eye of an obsessive demon in the 13th century adam but hey, there has been some beautiful things come from it too.
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rafecameroninterlude · 3 months
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader
summary: rafe surprises you on your birthday
warnings: best friends brother, sarah being the worst friend ever (what else is new?), crying, firting over the phone, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, unprotected sex
word count: 2.8k
a/n: i’ve seen your comments and ik y’all want reader to stick up for herself against sarah, so don’t worry that’s in the works!! i’ve been feeling a little sick but i’m going to try to keep up with requests as best as i can <3 mini series masterlist can be found here
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“is everything okay?” ignoring the fact that sarah just cancelled your plans, on your birthday, you refused to hang up the phone without getting a conversation that lasted less than two minutes. “w-what do you mean?” you heard the faint sound of someone laughing in the background, a door shutting loudly on the other line. “you’ve never missed any of my birthdays, and tonight you cancel after reassuring me all week that you’d see me? not to mention two weeks ago when we were supposed to go on the druthers, you said you’d be back home later, but you never showed.” you hated how you sounded like a concerned parent more than a friend, but right now you just wanted answers.
“everything is fine, y/n,” sarah scoffed, “i mean, seriously, i’ve just been busy, alright?” you don’t know if you should feel relieved that she’s fine, or hurt because she’s obviously not interested in talking to you right now. with ward, rose, and wheezie out of the house for the summer, there was no valid explanation as to why she goes days, sometimes weeks without being home. unless of course, rafe was right about her spending all her time on the cut. “have you been staying on the other side of the island?” you couldn’t help but ask, the question lingering in your mind since rafe mentioned it two weeks ago. “oh, my god! do i have to tell you everything? you’re worse than topper.” she hung up before you could say anything else.
what the fuck?
she’s acting as if she has never been like this before. was it a crime that you were worried about your best friend who you haven’t seen in three weeks? sarah once showed up to your house at three in the morning because you sent a crying emoji instead of a laughing one. it’s hard to think about, the person she was then, versus now. you felt your eyes stinging, your vision getting blurry as the tears threatened to overflow. god, this was pitiful. if someone told you that you’d be here, your hair and makeup done for the gods, holding back tears because of sarah, you wouldn’t believe them. the amount of things that have changed this past month was starting to crash down on you at once.
with sarah gone, and your parents away for their anniversary trip, the last thing you wanted to do was wander in a party by yourself. ultimately deciding to stay in for the night, you laid out your pajamas, about to unzip your dress before your phone rang. unknown caller. “hello?” there was a few beats of silence, “y/n?” your heart fluttered instantly. “hey, rafe.” you sniffled, trying to clear any indication that you’ve been keeping yourself from crying. “what are you doing tonight?” his voice turned rough. “i was just about to get in my pajamas.. why?” he cleared his throat, a small seed of hope burying itself in your chest. “let’s go to mine. i have something for you.” as if you couldn’t smile any harder, you could count on rafe to beat the odds. “what if i said no?” you teased, knowing you could never say that to him.
“then i’d have to go home to an empty house and no birthday girl to give birthday dick to.” you sighed dreamily, eyes glancing up at your ceiling. “aren’t you the gentlemen?” you got up, thankful to see that none of your makeup smudged. “so where are you right now?” you reapplied your lip gloss, running a brush through your hair for the final time. “outside your house.” you paused. “are you really?” you peeked outside your window, a black truck sitting out front. “i’ll be right out.” you hung up, screaming excitedly, grabbing your purse before making your way outside. rafe met you half way, picking you up and putting you in the passenger seat.
“you’re telling me you were about to change out of this?” his hands rested on your hips, your head leaning against the seat. “yeah, but i rather you take it off of me instead.” he smiled, pulling you into a kiss. “i rather do that too.” he shut the door, the car ride back to his house consisting of him making you laugh. “why’s it so dark in here?” rafe lead you upstairs, skipping past his room. “where are we going..” you stopped in your tracks. “ward’s room?” you shook your head, feeling like you were trespassing in some weird way. “don’t worry, keep walking.” he opened the doors to the balcony, the breath being sucked right out of your lungs.
a small cake with pink frosting and the number twenty in gold accents sat in a little box on top of the table, a vase full of your favorite flowers right next to it. “how..” you turned around, rafe rubbing his hands against his jeans. “i knew it was your birthday today, which explains the cake, and i may or may not have stalked your instagram highlights for any flowers i could find.” you blinked, throwing yourself in his arms. “this means so much to me, rafe. thank you.” you let out a shaky breath, your emotions getting the best of you once he pulled back to cup your face. “hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he sat you down, his eyes flickering between yours. “i just wasn’t expecting any of this, i’m just really grateful that’s all.” you smiled.
rafe nodded, pulling a small gift bag from under the table. “i really want to see you open this.” he placed the bag in your lap, giving you a reassuring nod when you looked at him. with shaky hands, you removed the pink tissue paper, a velvet box revealing itself at the bottom. rafe adjusted in his seat, his eyes frantically moving between you and the gift. “rafe..” you opened the box, immediately being met with probably the best gift you’ve ever received. “i’ve heard you talk about this a lot, so i figured why not?” he shrugged, “do you like it?” he watched you pick up the silver bookmark, the words ‘pretty girl’ imprinted in cursive lettering on the back.
“i love it..” you truly had no other words. placing it gently inside the box, you got up, rafe pulling you on top of him, both of you smiling into a kiss. how did he know how to do this? make you feel special and wanted and appreciated all at the same time? you deepened the kiss, his hand squeezing your thigh. “should we cut the cake?” you hummed, shaking your head, “let’s save it for after.” rafe pulled away. “after what?” his hand snaked around your neck, “after you give me birthday dick, your words.” you yelped when he suddenly yanked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you inside. “can i confess something?” he walked through the dark hallway, basically kicking open his room door.
you nodded, leaving a trail of kisses across his neck. once he laid you down, he took off his flannel, his biceps flexing under the small light emitting from his bathroom. “i’ve been reduced to fucking my hand every night since we had sex on the druthers. “all i could think about these past couple of weeks is how perfect you look under and on top of me,” he spoke quietly, “have you been thinking about it too?” his shirt was next to go, and the harder it was to resist from moaning at the sight of him. “yes,” you sat up, pulling him down to sit at the edge of his bed, “..that night replays in my head everyday.” settling between his legs, your fingers worked at getting his belt off.
“but the thought occurred to me one night;” you slid his belt out of the loops of his jeans, “you’ve tasted me already, but i haven’t tasted you.” as if on cue, you placed his belt next to him, using his knees to anchor yourself back on your feet. he groaned, watching as you moved your hair to the side. “take my dress off?” you turned around, unknowingly facing the mirror on his wall. without hesitation, he unzipped your dress, his eyes growing dark as he looked at your shared reflection. “nothing underneath?” this was a bold move for you, so you were more than happy to see how much he liked the idea of you walking around, ready for him to take you at anytime.
“nope, just wanted to save you the time.” you smiled, his hands cupping your tits, a soft gasp escaping from your lips. “we have all the time in the world.” he gently bit the skin of your neck, spinning you around. he pulled you down with him, your hips straddling his as you unbottoned his jeans. “i like your makeup,” rafe’s rubbed his palms on your thighs, “such a shame it’s gonna get ruined.” you smiled, rafe sitting up to kiss you roughly. kneeling on the floor, rafe held your hair back as you looked up at him, palming his cock through his briefs. “you gonna let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours?” he grunted, your eyes fluttering, “mhmm.” you hummed, rafe extending his hand out in front of your mouth.
“spit, baby.” he commanded. doing as he said, you laid your head on his lap, watching as he started stroking himself, both of you gazing at eachother with heated stares. “please, rafe.” he moaned, his head lolling to the side. he was still tugging on your hair, the stinging sensation shooting down your spine. he stood up, discarding the last article of clothing keeping you from being fucked into oblivion. you opened your mouth for him, a string of curse words tumbling out as his tip met your tongue. “oh, fuck,” be gritted his teeth. you straightened up, making sure to keep your eyes on his, a moan rumbling in your throat as he pushed further.
rafe licked his lips, his chest rising and falling as you started bobbing your head. if you had to be on your knees just to see the way he fell apart with your mouth alone, you’d do it all night if he asked you to. your eyes started to water, rafe smiling at the sight. “tap me if you need to.” he pulled out, thrusting back in once you nodded. fuck. your hands flew out, holding the back of his knees as he tugged at your hair, hard. “you’re taking it so fucking good,” his muscles constricted, your pussy clenching around nothing. the only word you could think of to describe the noises in this room was obscene.
heavy breathing, gasping and moaning, even an occasional whimper when you swallowed around his cock. “y/n-” he shook his head, his eyes rolling back just as you patted his leg. rafe stopped all movements, pulling out of your mouth with a wet pop. “i don’t want you to cum yet,” you stood up, your knees beet red as he pressed his thumb against your bottom lip. “yeah? want me to fill you up instead?” his words went straight to your core, a single tear drop rolling down your cheek. “yes.” your voice was hoarse as he laid you down, your arms wrapping around his neck to kiss him.
rafe teased your entrance before sliding between your folds, his cock rubbing against your clit. you shivered at the contact, your hips chasing his in order to get more friction. “it’s going to be hard to stop doing this, you know,” rafe looked down at you. “i wouldn’t care about sarah’s opinion on this, and i don’t think you should either.” he stared at you intensely as you pondered over his words. “you wouldn’t care about her opinion on us having sex? or..” your heart was racing, hoping he’d pick up on what you were insinuating. “well, that too, but i mean something more, more than us just sneaking around.” you met his eyes, a small smile gracing your lips.
“are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” rafe laughed. “no- well, yes, but not formally yet, i want to do that the right way, not when you’re under me waiting for me to fuck you.” you bit your lip, nodding your head. you could never get used to how good his body felt on top of yours, your toes curling as he pinned down your thighs. “you’re so fucking beautiful,” he kissed your temple, “this pussy was made for me.” rafe slammed into you once you settled into his sheets, a strangled cry ripping itself from your throat. it didn’t help that rafe was already filling you to the hilt, but watching his mouth fall open, and his eyebrows knit together was just as rewarding.
any concept of time was lost when you were with him, but you knew you didn’t want this to end. you loved how intimate rafe was, swallowing your moans with every kiss, massaging your thighs when he would thrust into you particularly hard, he was so good at this, you couldn’t even think straight by the time you were teetering the edge of pure bliss. “rafe, don’t stop.” you held onto his frame, his fingers circling your clit as you felt the pit of your stomach drop. “o-oh, my god,” you shook in his hold. “rafe!” you gasped. “i know,” he moaned, “fucking hell, i know.” his hips stuttered as he cummed, his eyes screwing shut while he emptied himself inside of you.
he took your lips, still thrusting slowly as he steadied you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. eventually he came to a stop, both of you laying under the sheets. “did you mean what you said earlier?” you rolled over, facing rafe as he sighed sleepily. “about being something more? yes.” you smiled as rafe took your hand in his, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “should we go for that cake?” you asked. “that sounds so good right now.” both of you got up, sharing the sheets as cover, about to leave the room until your phone started ringing. rafe was quick to pick it up from the floor, his jaw ticking as he looked at the screen.
“who is it?” you reached out, rafe blocking your attempt to grab your phone. “it’s sarah.” he declined the call, tossing your phone on the bed behind him. “come on, let’s go get that cake.” he ushered you towards the door before you stopped him. “it’s nearly three in the morning, rafe. she could be in trouble.” he stared at you for a moment, sighing as he nodded his head. “alright.” he stepped away. you pressed sarah’s contact, putting the call on speaker. she picked up after the third ring. “y/n?” you knew that voice. after fourteen years of being best friends, you knew when she was crying, even when she wasn’t in front of you.
“what’s wrong sarah, are you okay?” you stole a glance at rafe, ignoring the roll of his eyes. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry y/n. i haven’t been a good friend, and i’ve been keeping so much from you, my family… topper, i can’t handle all the lies anymore.” you felt yourself growing with empathy, rafe taking hold of your arm. “don’t fall for that shit!” he whispered. “i didn’t even tell you happy birthday!” sarah sobbed, “please let me make this up to you.” you don’t know why, but you looked up at rafe, who was shaking his head. taking a deep breath, you racked your brain for what you should do.
the fact that you had sarah on the phone, while standing in rafe’s room, naked at that, you felt like you were betraying one of them with either answer you gave. if you told sarah yes, then it would be like a slap to the face for rafe, but if you told sarah no, you’d be throwing away a friendship that grew into a sisterhood over the years. “we could have a movie night. for old times sake.” she sniffled, your own tears starting to well in your eyes. “y/n.” rafe stroked your hair. this wasn’t easy, at all. “okay.” you regretted it as soon as you said it, rafe’s hand falling to his side. “okay, that sounds good.” it pained you to see the way rafe was looking at you right now.
“friday at eight?” you gave her a quick ‘yes, i’ll see you.’ hanging up shortly afterwards. “rafe-” he slipped into some shorts, walking out of the room without a word. there was no winning in this situation. you plopped down on the bed, still wrapped in rafe’s sheets as you sat in silence. after about five minutes, rafe walked in with two plates of cake. he handed you one, sitting down next to you. “i won’t hold it against you,” he spoke up, “i just wish you could see what she’s doing.” you licked some frosting off of your finger. “i’m sorry.” you leaned your head on his shoulder. rafe hummed, “don’t be. i’ll let you find out by yourself, and i’ll be there with an extra plate for you when you do.” he rubbed your thigh.
you laughed to yourself. “thank you.”
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baeshijima · 11 months
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— hsr men in a royalty au
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INCLUDES : blade ; dan heng ; gepard ; jing yuan ; luocha ; sampo + gn!reader
A/N : what started off as a duke!blade word vomit became a hsr royalty au brain dump. sighs. also once again pushing my knight!reader agenda bc the lack of royalty aus with knight!reader is criminal.
genshin ver.
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imagine you're the personal guard for emperor!jing yuan, picked by his hand when he was still just a mere crown prince learning the ropes of what it meant to rule an empire. in truth, there's not much for you to do other than stand close behind when in public settings or indulge in his whimsical nature when in private and within the confines of the palace walls. in spite of that, you can't help but to wonder whether it's necessary to be his partner when he practises ballroom dances, despite never actually dancing in the banquets. well, who are you to question your duties, right?
there is no destination without a journey; jing yuan would know this best. having been thrust onto a pedestal from young, he's witnessed more types of people than he can count on his fingers: those who act nice in order to gain, those whose eyes cannot hide their contempt, those who are kind out of fear, those who act on behalf of others, those who hold respect without ulterior motives... he has seen them all. his view of the world grew dull, the predictability of those around him bringing only disappointment to the young heir. the days passed in a blur with nothing of note, other than a lingering emptiness which kept him awake at night and a passion which only emerges when sparring with his instructor. and so when he was told it was time to choose a personal knight after countless assassination attempts, he trudged through the halls with poise ingrained into his stride and a blank gaze reflecting his thoughts. but when he arrived at the training grounds to oversee the potential candidates his attention was immediately seized by another, his usually stagnant heart thundering. for the first time in his life, jing yuan discovered what it meant to want something as he watched you strike your training sword against your opponent, his world bursting into colours he never knew existed before then.
jing yuan sometimes finds himself envying those who can dance without care at banquets. he has an image to maintain in front of his people while you tend to be a stickler for this kind of thing, often refusing a dance in favour of maintaining your post. he supposes it's fine if you're both together, despite the numerous times he's imagined what it would be like to dance with you in front of everyone, as opposed to the privacy of the palace under the guise of “not becoming rusty”. but as he casts his gaze over to where you rest, having fallen asleep after a particularly thrilling game of starchess with your body tucked within the protective embrace of his ever-dutiful lion, he finds himself engraving moments like these into his memory and filing them away to look back on when nights to himself become a little too lonely for his liking. it's one of the many sides to you which only jing yuan has been privy to; one of which he takes immense pride in and vows to shelter from the danger which lurks around every corner.
(he will never let you know how your bright eyes is what set his once monotonous life ablaze in colour all those years ago — the aloof crown prince utterly besotted with a starry-eyed rookie knight. he will also never let slip how he still thinks back on the warmth he felt when you took his trembling, slumped form in your arms after he fought his stricken teacher all those years ago, the aftereffects of your touch still lingering on his skin even to this day.)
despite being duty-bound beside the impish emperor, there are times where you, too, are in need of some peace away from his scheming mind and watchful eyes. in these moments, you find yourself finding respite within the royal library built into the palace, a stack of books typically used as your makeshift pillow. and even if librarian!dan heng gives you a death stare from his designated place, you know he appreciates your company when he drapes a blanket over your shoulders and replaces the book pile with a cushion or two. although, you can’t shake off the feeling you’ve seen him from somewhere before…
for as long as he can remember, dan heng has always been on the run. from what? he’s not even sure anymore; it has been that long. it is but a mere shadow, a phantom which haunts him under the glowing sun and the gleaming moon. he can run — run until his body is weak and heavy with fatigue — but he can never hide, for it follows close behind and lurks around unseen corners. as unnerving as it may be, he has grown used to the chilling gaze and staying on edge. after all, no matter how far he runs, no matter how hard he tries to blend in, there is no escaping a shadow. maybe that is why he felt a churning sensation stir in his gut when he first met the emperor to discuss his newly appointed position as the librarian, whose gaze held an unfamiliar sheen of conflict veiled behind an amiable disposition upon making eye contact. amidst the eyes of the sun held a glint of familiarity, one which dan heng couldn’t put his finger on the longer he dwelled on the thought.
dan heng didn’t know what to expect when he first met you; you, the personal guard handpicked by jing yuan himself. with all the duties he’s sure keeps you busy, it wouldn’t surprise him if he never met you past the glimpses he catches here and there when in official spaces. perhaps that is why it came as such a surprise when you stumbled into the library one day, all bleary-eyed and attempting to stifle your yawns, and he could only watch in a daze as you pulled out a random set of books from the shelves, plop yourself down at the nearest table, set the books on the surface and slam your head atop the pile, your soft snores filling the once-quiet room. dan heng wasn’t sure how long he sat there staring at you for, but it was long enough to wake you up and inform you of the library’s closing hour when the day’s hues bled into the night. what he thought would be a one-time thing soon became a regular occurrence — a routine — and he has become accustomed to your unceremonious visits and wonderful laughter and draping the blanket he now keeps under his desk over your slumbering form and admiring your peaceful expression over the rim of his novel. it’s come to a point where he can no longer imagine a life without it; without you.
(sometimes he wonders whether you enjoy the time spent with him as much as he does with you, in which he cannot help but to compare himself to the emperor you have pledged your life and devoted your loyalty to. amidst those thoughts, dan heng finds himself hoping you would favour him over the shine of the empire’s revered sun.)
royal guard captain!gepard is someone you have always admired, ever since you were just a rookie knight trying to prove your worth amongst a sea of prodigal candidates like him. he is kind as he is strong, a formidable ally and a terrifying foe. however, you can't help but wonder whether you’ve done something to offend him, what with the way he sometimes avoids you if you happen to bump into each other amidst the palace grounds and speedwalks in the opposite direction with hasty apologies trailing behind him.
the landau dukedom. it is known for its military prowess and defending the borders, but infamous for the strict duke landau. as well-respected he may be by the nobles of the court, gepard only knows a strict man more like a superior than a father. it wouldn’t be a lie to say duke landau was just that; a superior — a teacher, one who viewed his children as either heir candidates or a foundation to bolster the territory’s military power. while it may be a strict method, the respect gepard holds for his father is undeniable, feuling his desire to make him proud and carry out his teaching in the name of the honourable landau duchy. he stuck to harsh training regimens, endured countless trials of tactics and wit, witnessed his elder sister begin to refute against their father’s suffocating hold upon returning from the academy, watched as she left the duchy to have control over her own life with a promise to keep in touch with him and their youngest sister. these moments were fleeting, passing in a blur until he entered the ranks of the elite, eventually promoted to captain as he remained steadfast in defending the borders.
it took gepard countless sleepless nights tossing and turning in his bed and a highly amused serval laughing at his predicament to finally understand his feelings for you. love was an unfamiliar concept to him. he knew of camaraderie between fellow knights (which was what he assumed he felt for you, but just a bit more… intense?) and familial bonds between family, so this new experience of his heart palpitating, hands clamming up, words stuck in his throat and an incessant heat clinging to his cheeks was unfamiliar, thus his avoidance. though that didn’t sit well with him, as a longing ache only seemed to replace it instead. and so, despite the apparent awkward flair his body language carried, gepard decided to follow his heart when it came to matters pertaining to you. he quickly came to discover your likes and dislikes, your miniscule habits when practising swordsmanship, the subtle cues you display when uncomfortable, the smile you showed upon seeing something you liked and the grin you displayed upon besting him in a duel. they were all segments which made up the very being you are, and the pieces which fit within his heart to establish this newfound love he holds for you.
(as your direct superior there are many things he notices when watching from the sidelines. among many, the one which stands out are the eyes which follow you — some gaze at you with envy, others regard you with awe, but there are a few which regard you in the same adoration he does. love and jealousy were never something gepard thought he would experience; not until he met you.)
with your role as one of the empire’s royal knights and the emperor’s personal guard, it comes as no surprise to be inflicted with injuries of varying severities. as a result, you are well-acquainted with royal physician!luocha through your numerous visits. you’ve come to find his pleasant visuals and soothing voice does wonders to heal your fatigue, even if he does tend to go a little overboard in his lectures when you come to him with less-than-fine wounds.
being able to wield elements and being able to use divine powers are two different things; one is widely accepted, the other is not. at least, that’s the case in the xianzhou empire. those born with the ability to use divine powers have fled into hiding, unwilling to be outcasted — or worse, executed — for being afflicted with the cursed power of the divinity. as such, having lived the majority of his life in concealment, luocha is no stranger to hiding his abilities. curse or blessing, it’s an irrevocable part of him. still, he didn’t want to stop helping others the way the nature of his powers could. and so he resorted to learning medicine. he soon became a renowned travelling doctor sought after for his vast knowledge, all of which garnered the attention of the emperor when he stopped by in the capital and was offered the position of royal physician. with little drawbacks, handsome pay, and a grand place to stay without needing to be on the run, luocha accepted and became the sole royal physician of the empire.
there was very little luocha found himself to be afraid of. with no one but himself to rely on, he’s crossed many bridges on his own without care. there was no need for such sentiment in survival. or so he thought. in all his years, luocha doesn’t think there was anything more terrifying than the day you were rushed in by a frantic jing yuan, your complexion sickly and covered in sweat and breathing laboured. as it turned out, you were poisoned, having drank it in place of jing yuan upon sensing something suspicious. he doesn’t recall anything making his heart drop as quickly as the situation then had, his mind blank yet frantic as he forced the panic-stricken emperor out of the infirmary and laid you on one of the beds. your symptoms were dire, he noted, and there was nothing in the cabinets suited for this kind of quick-acting poison. your condition was worsening, a pained furrow of your brows and haggard appearance being clear indicators. a bright glow then illuminated the room, and luocha came to the belated realisation he had used his abilities for the first time since concealing them, for the thought of losing you was far more torturous than his will to hide his abilities.
(there was no thought to the act, just sheer desperation to not let you die. it took him a long few days to realise that, all of which were spent looking after you by your bedside. he never spoke of how he cured you when you asked, eyes bleary with confusion on how you’re still alive, instead choosing to keep it to himself as he chided you for being so reckless. you will never know of the inner turmoil he endured, even praying to a deity he never once believed in to ensure your safety. should you sustain more severe afflictions, luocha has no qualms using his abilities again — if it means you live, he will make an exception.)
thinking about duke!blade, whose… less than pleasant disposition does little to help refute the fearful rumours surrounding his name. you've met him a handful of times when he visits the palace under jing yuan's summon or catching him at the odd banquet or two, and even back when he used to train with jing yuan before his visits suddenly ceased. even so, you find yourself doubting those rumours, especially when he seems to wear an expression akin to peace more often than he does of one resembling disdain.
the cold duke remains an enigma to those around him — even those who work under him. is it due to his quiet hostility? or is it perhaps something no one knows, such as a secret known only to him, his butler, his family physician, and the emperor? a curse; one of immortality where his soul is torn to shreds only to be stitched anew before he can succumb to the paradise known as death. it's a never-ending cycle, one which causes him to no longer track the days when they all feel the same. the days out on leading monster subjugations and expeditions are just a temporary means of escape — an outlet for his pent up frustrations to let loose without worry. no one knows what truly goes on in his mind, only ever witnessing or hearing tales of his brutal yet awe-inspiring deeds on the blood-soaked battlefields, and the origin of his adopted alias: blade. his true name evades him, having been discarded the moment he lost his humanity.
he has always noticed you. it was hard not to when the favour you received was blatantly obvious, even from when you were just a fledgling knight and he the young heir of his duchy. there weren’t many opportunities for him to talk to you, what with the way jing yuan always seemed to divert his attention back to their instructor when noticing his wandering gaze to your distant figure, and even more so after the curse struck him full-force and he stopped visiting altogether outside of summons and banquets. it wasn’t until he returned from a monster subjugation as the sole survivor did he first properly meet you. with his mind torn and body regenerating itself, he failed to notice someone rush towards him, an unfamiliar warmth encompassing his bleeding torso as his conscience began to fade. an unfamiliar ceiling and an unfamiliar room was what greeted him when he awoke, but a warmth he registered as familiar gripped his calloused hand. what met his gaze then was your dozing figure, your head smushed against the duvet beside his leg with even breaths giving way to your unconscious state. his typically chaotic mind was silent as he stared at you. it was an odd feeling, one which elicited a sharp inhale when you shifted in place, your grip on his hand loosening as you sought out a more comfortable position, before exhaling in relief when you resumed your rest. it was an odd feeling, but it wasn’t unpleasant. and, for the first time in his life, blade experienced what it meant to be at peace.
(while he never spoke of that incident to you again other than a brief thanks for giving him (unnecessary) medical attention, he found himself drifting towards you more frequently — whether it be conversing with you during those bothersome banquets, stretching out the time you escort him before he enters jing yuan’s office-slash-meeting room, sharing specialties from his territory during garden strolls, or even requesting you to spar with him. the victory from either side is sweet, but the strained expression he catches from notable figures is even sweeter.)
amongst the many you’re acquainted with, merchant!sampo is the one you’re most on edge around in spite of the years you have known each other for. it’s not that he’s a bad guy, but there’s something about his easy smile and ever-searching eyes and his words that always seem to form into something people want to hear which all seem… off. well, maybe you’re reading too much into his demeanour. after all, if he truly did have sinister intentions, you’re sure he would have acted on them by now — he’s had plenty of time to.
there’s a certain level of cunning one must have in order to survive. whether that be wits, deceit, getting one’s hands dirty, it doesn’t matter. they are all just a means to an end, after all. sampo has long since tread on the path of deceit, a game of cat and mouse with unassuming clients and authorities. but business is business, and what better way to make use of that than exploitation? disguised in a bar known as “masked fools” mapped across the globe sits a wealth of knowledge, hidden behind a secret code only known by those who covet wealth or revenge. it’s a fun pastime; the information-slash-mercenary guild receives money, the client has their request done. sampo quickly discovered playing the unassuming fool in front of the target only for them to discover they were the fool all along to be exhilarating. it was a rush like no other, even more so when he mastered the art of disguise and blended in with the crowd, building connections and biding his time as the airheaded merchant.
sampo admits, he was a tad hasty in his judgement of you. just a little. well, when compared to the ever-imposing figure of the royal guard captain chasing him down when he makes his weekly medicinal run for the palace’s physician, you weren’t all that impressionable at first glance. maybe it was the way you passively regarded him before walking off which led him to that belief, or perhaps it was the unassuming expression you always carried despite being the famed personal guard of the emperor. whatever the case, he was wrong. he realised that when his balance was tilted, back flush against the grass with your body pinning him down. the tip of your sword was against his throat and your eyes burned so brightly when asking what he was doing sneaking around a forbidden area to outsiders. he doesn’t remember what he said or did in response; all he does remember is the adrenaline rushing through his veins at the stern countenance you bestowed upon him. unconventional as it may have been, sampo thought you were the most breathtaking in that moment, a wondrous sight for his heart which only knew of cunning and deceit.
(it would be no lie to say money talks. in his line of business, it does all the talking. the only exception, sampo discovered, was when an ignorant fool attempted to hire him and have you… removed, to put it lightly. sampo couldn’t help the laugh which escaped him at the expression on the man’s face after his carefree refusal, a sound which ceased as he pointed his weapon to the man’s throat and demanded he spill the identity of the one who sent him. after all, a mere small-fry like him doesn’t have the ability to even dream of hiring someone against you — mercenary or assassin.)
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if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33
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215-luv · 1 month
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“OH GOD, IT’S NOT FAIR OF HIM TO MAKE ME FEEL THIS MUCH!” (HQ BOYS)
ATSUMU: says things out of nowhere that it makes you feel butterflies. it’s so sudden that it hits you like a tidal wave that knocks the air out of you. the two of you could be laughing at some random thing and suddenly, he opens his mouth to mention something, “your smile.” he says, almost out of nowhere, eyes looking at you with so much fondness that you refuse to believe that someone could ever look at you that way. “my smile? what’s wrong with it, tsum?” you question, and he chuckles, “oh, there’s nothing wrong with it.” a goofy smile plants itself over his face, “it’s just.. it’s so pretty. i want to see it more.” he says, resting his forehead over yours. “wanna be the person who makes you do all that—smile and laugh. you’re so beautiful.”
AKAASHI: “you were saying?” he questions as he’s scribbling over his notebook, studying for a test he’ll take the next day. the question almost surprises you. “i was saying..?” you ask, eyes on him as he looks busy enough writing over his notebook rather than listening to your nonstop blabbering. “yeah? you were talking about the book you just finished reading.” he says, and you sat there surprised, silenced and unable to fully process what you just heard. “well?” he ushers you to speak, the tone of his voice coming out as if he wants to hear more from you. and you couldn’t help but stare at him in disbelief. “you.. you were listening?” you respond with a timid voice. your boyfriend lets out a chuckle, dropping down his pen to look at you with interest in his eyes. “of course i do. i’m always listening to you, honey.”
KUROO: you weren’t sure what just happened, but all you could process was the fact that you’re suddenly lifted by the strong arms of your boyfriend as you walked through the hallway of the campus. it was supposed to be a normal day. you sighed, trying to ignore the stares of the students around you (and yaku, literally staring at the both of you in disgust). “tetsu, what are you doing? what’s all this? what’s happening?” you throw your boyfriend a wave of questions, unable to get a glimpse of the motive behind his actions. the deep chuckles from him reaches your ears, and you almost had to be grateful for being carried bridal style so as to not feel your knees weakening from the sound he just made. “am i not allowed to care for the love of my life?” he says, almost as if it’s an obvious fact. you roll your eyes, not convinced. you open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it—“you mentioned you walked home yesterday, right? you know, it’s pretty convenient to take the bus sometime. your house is pretty far from here. your feet must have been aching. let me take care of you, alright?”
OIKAWA: “delivery for the most beautiful person in the world!” he knocks on your classroom door, catching the attention of your classmates. you mildly panic, a rush of embarrassment flowing over you as you’re greeted with teasing smiles and chuckles. you see, tooru always had the tendency to do these things. and it honestly surprises you ‘till this day. he makes you feel so openly loved that it scares you it might disappear someday. your heart beats at a fast pace as your boyfriend nears you, eyes never leaving your figure as the corners of his lips are raised upwards. he places a bouquet of flowers on your desk, along with your favorite food on a plastic bag, and you almost choke a cry. “what’s all this?” you question, looking at him with suspicious eyes. he chuckles, “is there anything wrong with a boy simply wanting to show his love to his favorite person in the world?” his hand reaches to cup itself against your cheek, his warmth cascading over you. “let me show you what you deserve. i’m right here.”
USHIJIMA: you let out a sharp breath as you’re suddenly being pulled to collide against a strong chest which happens to be your boyfriend. you’re about to ask what just happened when he speaks first, “be careful. you were about to hit a lamp post.” your eyes widens, looking to the side to notice that you were, indeed, about to bump against one. guilt quickly begins to rush over you. “o-oh.. i’m sorry, i get really clumsy and bad at these things—“ you try to explain yourself apologetically, but your boyfriend cuts you off before you could finish your statement, “please don’t apologize. these are simply trivial matters.” he tells you. it’s only ‘till then you notice his arm wrapped around your waist in a protective manner while he keeps you steady. “matters like these are the reason why i’m here. let me be the one to keep you out of danger.”
KITA: “this one’s wrong. you messed up the formula halfway, that’s why the rest of the equation is wrong.” your boyfriend explains to you as he compares his math homework with yours. you couldn’t help but chuckle in embarrassment, inwardly beating yourself up for being dumb infront of him. you scratch the back of your head, “s-sorry, i could really get confused over these things.” you apologize, and your boyfriend could only nod in understanding. “in this number too, you got the formula wrong. you’re supposed to use this.” he then adds, pointing to a certain number on your paper. you couldn’t help but feel small under his gaze. “r-right.. i’m sorry, i promise i’ll do better.” you reply apologetically. but your discomfort doesn’t go unnoticed by shinsuke. his eyes worriedly looks at your figure as he quickly slides an arm around your waist, “hey, it’s okay. don’t worry about it.” you could feel his thumb rubbing against the fabric of your shirt as a way to assure you. “you’re doing amazing, believe me. just let me know if you’re confused anywhere. i can always help you. you’re okay.”
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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In this 1fur1 au….may I raise you wolf!price? The dog/man basically struts right into your home out of the woods and immediately takes his place as pack leader. It doesn’t matter that you’re supposed to be the one giving orders, price is in charge now.
You want to get off the couch and away from the mass of cuddles? Absolutely not. Price will be giving you a look so domineering you are sitting right back down no questions asked. He has you well trained ;)
The others don’t seem to mind the new addition either, making way for a new top dog. Price is quiet and doesn’t cause trouble, but if you’re late home be prepared to face his doggy wrath
Okay, so I love this concept, but I’m gonna raise you one - and write a new part for it.
(Don’t worry, Gaz is coming soon. This ask just really spoke to me lol).
This is also a part 1 — part 2 coming soon.
Three fuck-off sized wolf dogs is a lot. Like, a lot. There’s the fur, the food, the playtime. And then just the sheer clinginess. You’ve always thought of yourself as a dog person, that they just naturally are drawn to you because you tend to be quiet and respectful of boundaries.
Your boys though. They’re something else. Johnny was the easiest of the three to acclimate to your household. When it was just the two of you, bonding and learning him was easy. Whoever had him first had already done a lot of the work training him. And he naturally seems to like girls better so.
Ghost was more difficult. Clearly some trauma there, and a more wolfy-attitude towards humans. Primarily that he doesn’t seem to understand (or agree with) dumb pet things like harnesses, collars, and about 50% of the commands you give him unless you use your Serious Voice. He’s gotten less stingy with affection as time has gone on and his trust in you has grown.
Helped in part, you think, by learning his personality and behaviors. He’s a creature of strict habit. Likes his routines. Likes his space even more; you’ve always been respectful when he wanders off to another room, or when he climbs off the couch to lay nearby but not with you. You never mind, just call that you love him and leave him be.
Konig has been your biggest challenge so far. A lot of trauma there. And possibly a naturally shy personality; though it’s so hard to tell after everything he’s clearly been through. He’s been improving steadily each day, little by little. He’s sweet as can be, affectionate and snuggly when you manage to get him to join you and the others. The least aggressive with men when you take them for walks.
You’re lucky, the boys are so well-behaved — dislike of men notwithstanding. Scary dog privilege is a true blessing when you live alone, with no close neighbors, and right next to the woods. And they are so ridiculously sweet with you at least.
Still, they can be a lot. Any one of them is nearly the size of you, when all three of them decide to act up, it’s overwhelming.
Johnny will starting howling, pissed that Ghost has pinned him again. Ghost will start barking and grumbling - presumably trying to shut him up. And then Konig will insert himself, whining and tapping his feet, trying to break them up, you think.
Sometimes they’ll knock it off on their own, and Ghost will sneeze, shake off, and everyone will come to sit with you. But sometimes…
“Boys!”
You wade in between them, get a hold of Ghost’s scruff and push him off with your thigh against his muscular shoulder. Nearly trip over Johnny as he tries to scramble up and get at Ghost, crying and growling at the same time somehow. You curse as Konig bumps into you, nearly makes you fall over Ghost, who backs up with his nose scrunched up like he’s gonna bite.
Which is about the time you’ve had enough.
“Boys!” There’s a blessed beat of silence. “Outside, now!”
Johnny charges for the door, barking over his shoulder at ghost, who is quick to follow. Konig is slightly slower, head ducked like he knows he’s being part of the problem.
You groan with relief as they pile outside, all three immediately getting into another tussle. They’ve been keyed up the last three days no matter what you do and today seems to be the day it’s finally boiling over. You just wish it was on a day that the yard isn’t wet with mud.
Well then. You drop onto the porch steps and run your hands down your face, sighing. Best to let them stay out as long as possible — try to make bath time a little easier, at least.
You hear nails on the wood next to you, a little squeak, a snort. Figuring it’s one of the boys, you reach a hand without looking and tangle your fingers in their scruff. Pause because… that does not feel like any of your boys.
No way.
You pick your head up, turn slowly. And yup, there’s a dog you’ve never seen before. Another weird wolf one. Not as big as Konig at least. Closer to Ghost’s size — and actually similar in coloration. Cream and tan, with sharp blue eyes, a funny pattern along his cheeks and jaw that looks a bit like a beard.
“What in the…” you breathe, “is there some kind of doggy magnet on this house or something?”
You creep your fingers up his neck and around to his chin, give him a little scritch before he tilts his head to sniff at your wrist.
“Hi, handsome,” you coo, “oof.”
You hurry to prop yourself up as he shoves his muzzle into your stomach, nuzzling up under your shirt. You squeak at the cold, wet nose on your skin — and then again he licks at your ribs.
“Alright, alright,” you huff, shoving at his chest.
He backs up, though not far, ears perked forward and eyes bright. You stare back at him for a second, then sigh and do your due diligence, searching for a collar or microchip. He waits patiently until you’re done, then stands and shakes himself off.
You arch an eyebrow as he barks twice. All three of your boys stop, heads jerking up and turning to the two of you on the porch. Another bark and your little pack comes trotting back. When Johnny tries to nip at Ghost’s haunch, the new dog rumbles low in his chest. And to your shock, Johnny falls in line and slinks inside.
“Huh,” you say.
The mystery pup sneaks a kiss to your cheek before following the others inside. When you just sit there for a second, staring, he twists to look at your over his shoulder and gives you a little “boof.”
You laugh. “Bossy bastard.” And follow them in.
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 month
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Eddie loved flying. When the sun was out and he could watch the cars and houses get smaller while they reached altitude. When everything felt a bit lighter and his stress was under the clouds.
He did not love flying when the weather was bad.
In fact, he’d joked with the flight attendant that maybe they should delay the flight until the wind and dark clouds passed, but she just laughed and said the pilots were used to it.
Good for them. Eddie wasn’t.
He always sat in the window seat in first class, usually had some old businessman on his way to close a very important deal next to him. That wasn’t an option for this last minute flight though, so he was in the last row of the plane, leg bouncing nervously as people continued to board.
“As a courtesy to those around you, please stow your personal items under the seat in front of you as soon as you are in your seat. This allows a faster boarding process for all of us. Thank you!”
The announcement was a reminder that Eddie was flying without his usual carry-on items. His tour manager had packed him a checked bag and sent him on his way.
So he had his phone and his wallet, and eyes looking out the window next to him watching rain start to hit the tarmac below.
“Excuse me, I think that’s my seat,” a man’s voice said from the aisle.
Eddie looked over and saw a long line of men roughly his age in matching track suits, backpacks over their shoulders, and the Notre Dame logo on their jackets.
They were all tall. Well, all except the guy talking to him now. He was pretty average size.
“Uh. I don’t think so man. I’m 36F,” Eddie answered as kindly as his nerves would allow.
The guy checked his phone, brows creasing together.
“I’m 36F.”
No fucking way was Eddie giving up his window seat.
“Is there a problem?” A flight attendant asked from behind them.
“We’re both supposed to be in 36F?” The guy held his phone towards the attendant.
“May I see your boarding pass, sir?” The attendant asked Eddie.
Eddie pulled his own phone out, holding out the mobile boarding pass for her to see it.
“Sorry sir, it looks like you should be in 36E.”
Oh no.
Oh god no.
A middle seat?
There was no fucking way.
“I’m sorry, would it be at all possible for me to be in a window seat?” Eddie didn’t want to cause problems, but his chest was starting to clench and his breaths were coming in short pants.
“Unfortunately, this is a sold out flight. We wouldn’t have any available for you.”
He could feel eyes on him, quite a few of them, but none as obvious as the guy who actually belonged in 36F.
“We can just switch, man. No big deal.”
Eddie sighed with relief.
“Thank you, yeah. That’d be great.”
The attendant nodded and gestured for the guy to sit down.
Someone behind him sat on his other side and they immediately started talking as if nothing had happened.
See? Eddie had actually done them a favor! Now he could talk to his teammate for whatever sport he played and Eddie could watch their impending demise through the window.
The plane was rocking back and forth from the force of the wind blowing outside and the sky continued to grow darker despite the early afternoon hour. Eddie was considering sending a goodbye text to his band when he felt a hand on his arm.
“Hey, you okay?”
Eddie’s eyes widened as he turned to look at the guy next to him.
“Do you normally get nervous when you fly? Or is this your first time?” He continued. “Sometimes it helps to just close your eyes during takeoff.”
It was kind of him to try this, truly, but Eddie knew kindness wouldn’t save them if lightning hit them.
“I’m just not a fan of storms.”
The guy was watching him while his teammate on the other side of him talked to the guys across the aisle. Eddie was surrounded by this entire team. The irony was not lost on him that he spent so much of his youth expressing disdain for sports ball and might die among a group of sports ball players.
“Steve.” The guy nudged his shoulder against Eddie’s instead of offering his hand, an odd thing to do but the contact was grounding.
“Eddie.”
“You wanna hold my hand?”
Did they already die during takeoff? Did Eddie somehow end up in heaven?
This very attractive man, who definitely didn’t even know who Eddie was, was offering comfort in these trying times. Offering to hold his hand!
“Uh.”
Steve smiled. “It’s okay if not, but I figured it might help you focus on something else.”
“Sure.”
Steve held his hand out, palm up, and Eddie laced their fingers together.
“So, Eddie. Tell me where you’re off to.”
Eddie breathed in, breathed out. “My Uncle. He’s getting his appendix out so I’m trying to get there before he wakes up.”
“Oh. I had mine out when I was 10! Is he okay?” Steve seemed genuinely concerned and Eddie felt his stomach swoop.
“Yeah! Yeah, they caught it before it ruptured. But because of his age, they said his recovery might be a little rough so I’m gonna stay with him for a week to make sure he doesn’t overdo it. He’s a stubborn old man who’d probably be pulling weeds from his garden within hours if I wasn’t going so.” Eddie looked back out the window. Fingers reached under his chin, turning him away from the window.
“Eyes on me.”
Oh, Jesus Christ.
Eddie nodded and squeezed Steve’s hand.
“Good.”
Fuck.
“So, you’re close with your uncle?” Steve asked, as if he hadn’t just turned Eddie’s entire world upside down.
“Mhm. He basically raised me. More like a dad,” Eddie whispered out.
The pilot was making an announcement, but you couldn’t pay Eddie to tell you what it was for. He barely even noticed that they were backing away from the boarding zone.
“Do you visit him often?”
“As often as I can. My job keeps me busy,” Eddie shrugged, not really wanting to give it away, didn’t wanna give Steve a reason to look at him differently.
Eddie was gonna soak up this attention as long as he could.
It was actually helping distract him.
“I get that. I mean, I play basketball for Notre Dame and it basically is a full time job. We travel so much, most of my classes are online. I hardly ever get back home to visit my family,” Steve admitted with a sad smile. “Luckily, they come see me at my home games when they can. Does your uncle get to visit you sometimes?”
Just as Eddie went to answer, he caught lightning out of the corner of his eye and his entire body tensed.
“Hey.” Steve’s voice was firm, drawing his attention away from the window quickly. “Keep your eyes on me. We’re fine. Just you and me talking right now.”
They were nearly at the runway for takeoff and it was getting harder to focus on Steve’s words, the warmth of his hand in his, the fact that if it were truly dangerous, they wouldn’t even be cleared for takeoff.
As the plane sped up, Eddie whimpered.
He’d be embarrassed later if he survived.
Steve’s hand pulled from his and wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him against his side while his other hand cupped the back of his head and kept his face against his chest.
“Just breathe. I’ve got ya.”
And really, if the plane went down in flames, no one could save them. But hearing it did help, especially with arms holding him so tightly, he almost didn’t even remember he was on a plane.
But not quite.
The wind was strong enough to make the takeoff rough, shaking the plane more than usual as it left the ground.
Eddie’s hand gripped Steve’s shirt so tight, he would probably cause a tear if his nails weren’t so dull.
He stayed like that while they continued to climb above the clouds, the air pockets making the flight a bit more turbulent than Eddie was okay with.
He felt the vibrations of Steve talking, but didn’t hear him, didn’t even know if he was talking to him or the guy next to him who probably thought Eddie was an idiot.
The pilot made an announcement he didn’t hear, but he figured if he was gonna die, he could die against the chest of a nice, hot guy.
“Worst of it’s almost done, babe,” Steve said, lips against the top of Eddie’s head.
Gareth would never stop teasing him about this if he ever found out.
Being consoled by a sports ball guy during a flight he’s taken at least 30 times in the last two years.
New low? Maybe new high if he managed to get his number.
Steve’s fingers played with his hair, and he slowly felt his body relax.
His last thought before drifting asleep was how nice it was to be held like this.
***
“I think he’s probably a cookie guy.”
Eddie’s eyes blinked open to Steve’s voice quietly rumbling in his ear.
He’d been adjusted at some point so his head rested on Steve’s shoulder, one hand against his chest.
He couldn’t remember the last time he fell asleep on a flight. Maybe the last time they flew to London from LA right after a show?
And those had been perfect flying conditions.
He lifted his head as he rubbed at his eyes and tried not to let the butterflies take over when Steve’s hand squeezed his hip.
“Hey sleepyhead. You want cookies or pretzels?”
“Cookies always. Please.” Eddie yawned.
As he took the package of Biscoff cookies, he noticed how smooth the flight was and the sun shining through the window.
Steve’s arm stayed around him.
The entire flight.
Even after he’d gotten up to use the restroom.
Even when there was no real reason to offer him comfort anymore.
Even when they landed on the runway in Indianapolis and the seatbelt light turned off.
Even while they talked to each other the entire flight, sharing the smallest details about themselves as if it was a first date.
“Would it be okay if I get your number? I’d like to check on your uncle later if that’s okay,” Steve asked, suddenly seeming more nervous than he had the entire flight.
I’m “Yes! Yeah, please,” he quickly typed it into Steve’s phone, putting his name as Eddie M 🛫. “Uh, thanks for, ya know, helping. Kind of embarrassing.”
“No reason to be embarrassed. It was scary.”
“Yeah. I just figured I fly so much, I should be used to it.”
“You never told me what your job was,” Steve nudged him as he pocketed his phone.
“I didn’t.” Eddie almost didn’t wanna ruin this. But he’d figure it out or find out and then it’d be worse. “I’m the lead singer for Corroded Coffin.”
“Is that…a famous band?”
The guy on the other side of Steve smacked his shoulder. “Dude, one of their songs is on our locker room hype playlist. Dustin’s obsessed.”
“Shut up, Lucas. You know I have my own playlist!” Steve turned back to Eddie and rolled his eyes. “Sorry. So you’re like famous.”
“You could say that,” Eddie hated saying it though, at least in these situations. “You really didn’t know?”
“Nah. I’m more of a pop and 80s kinda guy.”
“Maybe you could send me a playlist? Ya know, when you check on my uncle later,” Eddie suggested.
“Sure. I’ve got a two and a half hour bus ride back to campus to work on one.” Steve smirked. “You gonna be alright now?”
“Yeah. Thanks again. For taking care of me.”
“Anytime. Anything you need.”
And Eddie was pretty sure he meant it.
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