#i’ve had several thoughts about confronting them & how i would go about it but it’s exhausting not knowing how they’d take it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cleo-fox · 10 months

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Surrender

Summary: Finding your soulmate is supposed to be a romantic, life changing experience.

No one tells you what to do when a). your soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of your planet and made himself king and b). you kind of still want him anyway.

(Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering.

A/N: look, I was intrigued by the idea of a Loki Wins AU and also a soulmate AU and this just sort of happened. I may write more of this concept because it gave me IDEAS. This is also available on AO3.

The mark on your wrist begins to burn the minute he walks into the room.

At first you think it’s a coincidence or a mistake—there are guards walking with him, perhaps it’s one of them. But then he flinches, his right hand going to his left wrist and your heart sinks to your knees. It could still be a coincidence, you tell yourself halfheartedly.

He scans the room and when his eyes land on you, it’s like the tumblers of a lock clicking into place and you know.

He’s much taller than you thought he was—that’s the only conscious and coherent thought you manage to have as he approaches you. Being the subject of his gaze is overwhelming in a way that you sort of expect, but it still makes you want to sit down and close your eyes. He looks you over, his gaze lingering briefly on your nametag from work.

“Show me your wrist,” he says.

You don’t think he’s using his powers, but you comply automatically, extending your arm toward him, wrist turned up. There’s a frisson of electricity that buzzes along the back of your hand when he touches it—if there were any remaining doubts about who he is and his relationship to you, that feeling surely puts them to rest. You know that he must have felt something too from the way he looks at you sharply, as though he thinks you’ve done something intentional to cause this. You can only hope that your wide eyed bewilderment convincingly conveys your innocence.

His expression betrays nothing as he examines the mark on your wrist, which is now glowing a bright gold that would be pretty if the circumstances were different.

It’s funny, you think. You’ve been waiting for this moment your entire life and all you can think is that you wish it wasn’t happening.

He releases your hand and looks at you in a calculating sort of way. “Come with me,” he says finally.

You do, of course. What other choice do you have?

The next several hours are a blur.

You are shuffled from place to place. Usually there is at least one guard—you’re not sure why. The idea of you being able to do any damage to him is laughable and escape doesn’t exactly seem like an option. Where could you go that he could not find you?

It’s a depressing thought; you try not to think much about it.

You know exactly when the news breaks because it coincides with your phone basically becoming unusable due to the flood of notifications, calls, and texts. You put it on airplane mode to compose a short message to your family and friends. Your reassurances feel a little trite given the circumstances: I’m fine, I’ll call when I can.

You can’t exactly type what you’re really thinking, which is more along the lines of I’ve just learned that my soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of our planet. I’m doing about as well as you’d expect.

You turn airplane mode off long enough to send the email. Once it sends, you power down your phone. It doesn’t seem prudent to leave it on, at least not right now—right now, it only serves as a reminder of a life you know you’re going to have to leave behind and you’re not at all ready to confront that particular loss.

They eventually take you to what you assume are his rooms. You’re surprised by how traditional the decor is—you had expected a cold sort of minimalism, but there’s more wood and warm colors than you would have thought. You are informed that there are clothes for you in the closet; you nod and say nothing, though you wonder how they managed to pull an entire wardrobe together in the span of only a few hours. Magic, perhaps.

You are finally left alone, though you’re fairly certain that you would find guards stationed outside if you were to look.

You take one of the elegant velvet throws from the bed and wrap it tightly around yourself before settling on the couch next to the window. You’re not exactly cold, but it feels like a necessary armor between you and this unfamiliar place.

You stare out the window for a long time. You’re too high up to people watch and you’re not sure that you could handle that anyway—it would be yet another reminder of the fact that your life has changed in a massive, earth shaking way that you can’t even begin to understand. Instead, you stare at the tiny cars on the city streets below, snaking their way to destinations that feel so far out of your grasp that they might as well be on a different planet altogether.

It’s late when he finally shows up—so late that you’ve actually gotten ready for bed, donning one of the silk nightgowns that had been left for you. You can tell it’s more expensive than any sleepwear you’ve ever owned in your life. You’re just glad that it’s modest—you had half expected to find that all your pajamas were bustiers, thongs, and thigh highs in some sort of ill considered attempt to seduce you. But this is elegant and understated, with a matching robe that you cinch tightly around your waist.

You sit on the couch, the throw still wrapped snugly around you. He looks at you, the corner of his mouth curled up in a slight smirk.

“I hope you don’t intend to stay there the entire night,” he says.

“I hardly know you,” you say before you can even contemplate whether it’s wise.

He looks…amused isn’t quite the right word, but there’s a subtle tilt to the corner of his lips—not quite a smile, but maybe somewhere in the vicinity.

“Give it time,” he says, and something about that makes you shiver.

You intend to sleep on the couch, at least for these first few nights when everything still feels so raw and strange.

Or that was your plan, anyway.

Loki doesn’t say anything else as he prepares for bed and you stare resolutely at the window so as not to invite any more conversation or prompt any invitations to join him in bed. Eventually, the lights go out and you are left alone with your thoughts in the dark.

The room is much colder at night.

You’re not sure if it’s on purpose, though you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Perhaps he likes it like this. Perhaps it’s to lure you to him, to tempt you into seeking out the warmth of his bed and body.

You pull the blanket more tightly around your shoulders. Eventually, you allow your eyes to drift shut.

You wake some time later in the middle of the night. The room feels even colder, the velvet of the throw and the silk of your nightgown and robe a scanty defense against the chill. You burrow against the couch cushions and it’s sort of bearable.

But you also have to pee.

You hold off for as long as you can, but you eventually summon the will to leave the couch and seek out the bathroom.

The bathroom is even colder—perhaps it’s all that glass and marble that makes the difference. You’re wearing your robe and you’ve still got the blanket wrapped around you, but your teeth are chattering by the time you wash your hands. You run the water as hot as you can stand, but it only does so much. If you were braver—if it wasn’t your first night here, you would run an extra hot shower and stay under the spray until your fingers and toes pruned and the chill was chased from your bones.

Instead, you hustle back to the couch, burrowing against the cushions, throw and robe wrapped tightly around you. But you still can’t seem to shake the cold. You huddle on the couch, shivering, trying to calm your body.

Time passes and you don’t grow any warmer. You wonder if you can steal another throw from the bed—surely he won’t miss one—when a voice speaks from the darkness.

“Come to bed,” Loki says.

You clear your throat. “What?”

“I can hear your teeth chattering from here. Come to bed and stop being absurd.”

You hesitate, staring into the dark. You consider the cold, the slight kink in your neck from the way you’ve been sleeping on the couch, the late hour, the way that sleep pulls at your eyes. A bed is appealing. Maybe more appealing than it should be.

You find yourself getting to your feet and slowly making your way across the room.

You pause on the other side of the bed—your side, you suppose, though calling it that still feels too intimate. You can just make him out in the dark.

“You’ll stay on your side,” you say, like making it a statement will make it so.

“Well, you hardly know me.” His voice is clipped, more bitter than you expect as he echoes your words from earlier.

You can’t help but scowl. “I’ve known you for less than twenty-four hours and it’s the middle of the night. I’m not doing this right now.”

He laughs. It’s sharp and brittle and unexpected, but it’s a laugh all the same, and something about that helps, if only a little.

You don’t say anything else as you climb into bed. You find that the blankets are warm—warmer than you expect—and heavy. There’s a part of you that expects yourself to be too nervous and on edge to fully relax, but the coziness of the blankets piled around you is oddly calming, even with Loki mere inches away. You hunker down underneath the blankets, situating yourself on the pillows.

He doesn’t say anything and it’s not long until his breathing becomes steady and even.

And after a while, yours does, too.

Consciousness creeps up on you slowly the next morning, a far cry from the jarring alarm on your phone that usually disrupts your slumber. You are warm and cozy, cocooned in the blankets, safe from all of the bullshit that had happened yesterday.

It’s such a peaceful, easy awakening that it takes you a moment to realize that you aren’t alone.

It takes another moment for you to realize that your cheek is pressed against Loki’s chest. And to make matters worse, not only are your arms wrapped around his him, your right leg is also flung across his waist, like you can’t bear to be parted from him for even a moment.

But before the panic sets in, there is a barely perceptible moment where your body just enjoys the feeling of being pressed against him. It’s quick and you’d deny it if asked, but the rush that you get from giving into the pull of your soulbond for even that brief moment is nothing short of incredible.

But it’s just a moment and your mind quickly turns to the matter of extracting yourself without drawing his notice. Ideally, he’ll just stay asleep and you won’t have to deal with any awkward fallout. If you move very slowly and carefully, perhaps he won’t notice.

You carefully start to move your leg from his waist.

“To be clear, you’re on my side of the bed,” he says.

God fucking dammit.

You abandon all subtlety and quickly peel yourself away from him.

“I must have rolled over in my sleep,” you say, incredibly conscious of how stupid that sounds.

He smirks, which is somehow worse than if he’d said anything.

“It won’t happen again,” you say.

It does.

This is your new routine: you start every evening on the couch, wrapped up in your robe and throw. You wake some time in the night, teeth chattering. Sometimes, Loki will tell you to come to bed. Other times, you quietly give up and slip under the covers on your side of the bed.

But every morning without fail, you wake tangled around him.

Sometimes, he’s spooned up behind you; more often, though, you’re the one clinging to him. It’s as though your body has a homing device that leads you over to his side of the bed in your sleep, dutifully ignoring all of your stern warnings about who stays where.

The worst part of it is that you’re fighting your own instincts. On a very basic, physical level, you yearn to be close to him. There’s a part of you that revels in these unintentional moments of closeness, that wants to allow yourself to enjoy the feeling of him, to allow him to put his hands on your body, for you to put your hands on him.

The fact that he wakes up noticeably hard most mornings does not make this any easier.

This is a problem that you’re not entirely sure how to solve and the second week in, your desire for information finally outweighs your desire to avoid social media and the deluge of emails and texts that you know are waiting for you on your phone.

You turn your phone back on and immediately delete all of your social media apps. You don’t know what they’re saying about you and you don’t care to. You turn off all of your notifications, even the little number icons that show you how many unread emails and texts that you have. You want absolutely no distractions.

You open a private browser window and pull up Google.

Newly connected soulbonds are the hormonal equivalent of pouring out a bunch of gasoline and striking a match. Soulbonds are intended to be consummated. You know this. There are people who wait it out for one reason or another, but that’s very much the exception—it’s a physical and emotional test of endurance. And you’re beginning to understand why.

The internet is not very helpful. You already know what happens when you don’t consummate a soulbond promptly—increased arousal, restlessness, vivid dreams, and so on as time goes on. You’re more interested in mitigation. You find a few blogs that have entirely irrelevant suggestions like cuddling on the couch or holding hands. “While you’re waiting for intercourse, why not try some outercourse?” one post muses with a level of earnestness that causes you to immediately turn off your phone and fling it across the room.

You’re going to have sex with him at some point. That’s inevitable. On a very basic level, you want him—it’s more or less coded into your DNA. But that is at odds with the reality of who he is and what he’s done. It might feel good to wake up tangled around him, but it only takes a minute to remember the battle of New York and it nearly extinguishes the desire burning within you.

But only nearly and only for now.

The third week is when things start getting increasingly difficult.

Loki seems content to wait things out. You can feel the burn of his gaze on you, but he doesn’t push, doesn’t prod.

You, on the other hand, find yourself slipping into a heightened state of arousal that is becoming impossible to ignore. Midway through the week, you finally give in and try touching yourself in the shower in the hope of some relief and you come so quickly and so hard that you have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out and your legs very nearly buckle from the force of it. A few twitches of your fingers has you sprawled on the shower floor and coming again, harder than before. You repeat this trick a few times but even as strong as it is, it doesn’t really help—you’re back to where you started within minutes.

Worse though, is the fact that it’s his face that you see when you come. Every. Single. Time. You imagine him over you, his gaze dark and intent as he watches you come; slack jawed and hissing in pleasure as he pushes into you; growling in approval and impatience as you take his cock into your mouth. The images come entirely unbidden and stick in the forefront of your thoughts like a burr clinging to wool.

When you see him later that afternoon, his gaze lands on you in such a way that it feels like he knows everything you’ve done and everything you’ve seen, from that moment in the shower to the shameful thoughts you had as you came.

The dreams start shortly after, and they are objectively worse.

The dreams are far more vivid than just images. In the dreams, he’s touching you, coaxing you to peaks you could never have imagined, pressing into you, taking you hard and fast and achingly slow and everything in between. The dreams leave you out of breath and shaky, aching for a touch that you know that you should not want, but do with every fiber of your being. By some miracle, they only seem to occur while you are on the couch and not when you’re in bed, but that luck won’t hold forever.

Perhaps more importantly, you know it’s only a matter of time before you give in. Deep down, you’ve known this from the moment the mark on your wrist started to burn. Your resistance is eroding like a sandcastle at high tide and it’s only a matter of time before you crumble.

But not yet. Not yet.

Five weeks after your arrival, you wake sweating and out of breath from another dream.

You take a few deep breaths. It was similar to the ones you’d had before. Thinking about the details makes your core ache and your clit throb so you try to keep them out of your mind.

You’re half surprised that you’re not tangled around Loki, given the content and subject of your dream, but that makes sense when you realize he’s not in bed. Instead, he sits on the couch, staring into the middle distance. Perhaps he is struggling with the same kinds of dreams.

The idea of you making Loki too hot and bothered to sleep is more appealing than you’d like to admit. You hastily dismiss the thought before it can bring any more heat to your already too warm skin or add more fuel to the flickering desire that seems to have settled permanently in the cradle of your hips.

You slip out of bed and go to the window, folding your arms across your stomach as you stare out at the sleeping city.

“You were calling out in your sleep.”

More heat prickles at your skin.

“Hm,” you say, trying your best to sound casual.

“What were you dreaming of?” he asks.

He’s only asking because he already knows the answer. You know this. But the lie still slips from your lips: “I don’t remember.”

He laughs, a quiet and dangerous sound that stokes the fire in your belly. “Have you forgotten, darling, that I am the god of lies?”

You can hear him walking toward you, but you keep your back turned. Has the room always been this warm?

He waits until he is directly behind you to speak again. “Will you lie again when I ask if you were dreaming of me?” His voice is so close, full of depth and a little husky.

“You flatter yourself,” you say.

You can hear the smirk in his voice, feel the whisper of his breath on your neck. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” He pauses for a moment. “But you were calling out for me.”

Your lips are dry. You want to deny it, but it feels useless. Worst case scenario, he’s still mostly right: you were dreaming of him and you can’t even really deny crying out for him because you were asleep and you don’t know for sure.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he continues. His voice drops. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you writhing in pleasure beneath me.” He pauses. “Or I see myself between your legs, worshiping you with my mouth, bringing you to ecstasy over and over before I finally take you.”

Your heart is pounding and every nerve in your body feels as though it’s connected directly to your clit. You are warm—too warm—and you can feel your pulse pounding in your throat.

“What were you dreaming of?” he continues, his voice barely a murmur.

“Nothing,” you say.

He clicks his tongue. “Try again, darling.”

You say nothing and after a moment of silence, he seems to decide that it’s time to switch strategies.

“You must be so wet,” he murmurs, his tone low and soothing.

Your stomach and your cunt clench. If he starts talking dirty to you, it’s over.

“We’re not meant to go this long like this,” he says. “We both know that. It’s been five weeks. Your poor cunt is probably aching for me, just as I ache for you.”

Your breath is coming in shaky gasps. You need him. You can feel your resolve starting to slip.

“Yield to me.” His voice is rough with wanting, like this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “I know you feel it. I feel it, too. You yearn for me, you crave my touch. Let me make you feel good, darling, let me ease that ache. Yield and I will give you everything.”

You draw in a shaking breath and slowly turn to face him. He’s looking at you with an intensity that you expect, but it takes your breath away nonetheless.

The remnants of your resistance are lost to the wave of him and the only thing that’s left in its place is a raw need like you’ve never experienced before.

You don’t know what to say, so in the end, you settle for his name. Just his name, said quietly with all the desperation and longing that has been making your life hell these past few weeks.

You get a glimpse of the fire in his eyes before he’s on you.

There’s nothing gentle about this kiss. It’s the kiss of two people who have been deprived of each other for too long, your teeth bumping against each other, tongues twisting and tangling. You end up pressed against the wall next to the window, your leg wrapped around his waist, his hand supporting your thigh. He presses his hips against you and you moan into his mouth at the feeling of his hard cock dragging against your swollen, sensitive clit. He draws back slightly to look at your face as he slowly grinds his hips against yours, his free hand moving to palm your breast over the silk of your nightgown.

You moan again, your head dropping back against the wall. The soft, slippery friction of the silk of your nightgown against your nipple and the soaked lace of your underwear rubbing against your clit is enough to make you go cross eyed, a slow tease that only fans the burning embers within you. Your body is overheated and too tense, but Loki is blessedly cool in a way that somehow both soothes and inflames.

“You’re drenched. I can already feel that,” he says, his voice thick with desire as he moves against you. “I could make you come like this.”

You whimper, rocking your hips back against him. “Please.”

He shakes his head. “Another time. Tonight I want to feel you when you come.” He drops his hand from your breast, trailing down your stomach and moving in between your legs. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, and you let out a needy whine as he strokes the slick folds of your sex. “Is this all for me?” he asks, his voice slipping into a low growl.

You barely manage a breathy affirmative.

“Sweet thing.” His thumb rolls over your clit as he slides one finger into you, and your back arches automatically, your breasts jutting out. “We’re going to have to do something about this, aren’t we?”

“Please,” you breathe.

“How can I resist such a sweet plea?” he says, sliding another finger into you and curling it just so. “Or such a wet and needy cunt?”

“Don’t stop,” you say.

“I ought to make you beg me for it after everything you put me through.” His eyes darken as his thumb presses against your clit and you moan. “But perhaps I can be generous. I can feel how much you need to come on my fingers.”

You nod, slack jawed and panting.

“You’ve been waiting for this,” he murmurs. “You’ve tried to deny yourself, but you need me, you need my touch.”

You whimper, your hips rocking.

“Say it,” he says, stroking your clit.

“I need to come,” you moan.

“A good start,” he says, his voice a stern purr. “But not quite what I asked, my love. Try again.”

A twinge of irritation manages to work its way to the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly in a state to be playing twenty questions.”

His eyes light up with a predatory gleam that heralds the arrival of something that you know will end enjoyably for you.

“Oh, darling, that attitude won’t do at all.” His fingers are immediately and conspicuously absent and you very nearly cry out in frustration. But before you can, he is sweeping you into his arms and making the journey to the bed in several long strides. He sets you gently on the bed and looms over you, green eyes flashing as his hands stroke up your thighs. You lift your hips and he pulls your underwear off, tossing it to the side.

“Let’s try that again, shall we?” His voice is a growl. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need to come.” You know it’s the wrong answer, but this particular game of cat and mouse and the predatory gleam in Loki’s eyes are making you even wetter and god, you need him.

His eyes flash with a barely concealed delight. “Try again.”

You spread your legs rather conspicuously, hiking your nightgown up to your waist. “I need to come.”

He’s looking at you intently, lips slightly parted. “You’re trying to distract me with that pretty cunt, you wicked thing.”

“Is it working?” you ask.

He lowers his head to kiss the inside of your left knee. “It would work much better if you answered me properly and told me everything you need.”

You think you have an idea of what he wants to hear, but you’re not quite ready to give up the game yet. Instead, you pull your nightgown up and over your head and toss it to the side. His eyes are dark as he looks at you, his gaze lingering on your breasts and trailing down to the apex of your spread legs. You wonder what it would take to make him lose control, to take you in the way that you both need.The thought sends another flood of heat to your aching core.

You lick your lips. “Will you make me come, Loki?”

Another wolfish grin. “Closer. But not quite. Try again.”

You let your hand slide down your stomach and between your legs and you part your sopping folds so he can see the full extent of what he’s done to you—every dripping inch. The look he’s giving you now only heightens the feeling.

“Should I make myself come?” you ask and you’re immediately rewarded with an almost feral look and a sharp smack to your ass.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls.

You put on your most innocent expression, even as his visible hunger makes you ache. “I thought you’d like seeing me touch myself.”

“Oh, there will be time for that later,” he says, his eyes still dark. “I’m particularly interested in seeing what prompted those intriguing little noises I kept hearing while you were in the shower. But every tremor of pleasure that wracks your body tonight will be from me alone. Now,” his eyes glitter and his hand replaces yours on your cunt, his long fingers spreading you open, but not touching you, his expression rapt with undisguised greed, “tell me what you need.”

Your capacity to tease and resist him was well and truly exceeded when he smacked your ass and was further obliterated by the monologue he just delivered. “I need you to make me come, Loki. I need you so bad.”

His smile is filled with dark promises and a hunger that you have every interest in sating several times over.

“Good girl,” he says.

And his fingers slide back into you as his mouth envelopes your aching clit.

You moan as your hips lift and your hands tangle in his hair. He mumbles something that sounds like “perfect” against your clit, first teasing you with the tip of his tongue and then pressing it flat against you and rubbing in slow circles. Meanwhile, his fingers have found that soft, aching spot inside of you and he presses against it in slow, firm thrusts that make you tremble.

You initially think that you’ll be quite quick to come because you’re already so wound up, but Loki seems determined to find the edge and keep you there for as long as possible—and he’s really, really good at it. He falls into a rhythm where his tongue strokes your clit once, twice, three times and withdraws; his fingers pick up the thread, stroking your walls once, twice, three times and withdrawing, only for his tongue to resume where he left off. In this way, he keeps you balanced on the edge in a perfect kind of torture. It feels so good, but it’s not quite enough to get you there just yet.

You make liberal use of his name—it’s a plea, a curse, a benediction, a moan, a sigh. Instinctively, you know that he likes this, but it’s not enough to distract him into letting you fall even a moment before he wants you to.

The ache that’s been building in your hips for the last couple weeks is growing, burning bright and warm. Your body feels electric in the best way, your nerves humming and buzzing and straining for release.

“Loki,” you moan, partly as encouragement and partly because you want him so badly.

You’re so close. Your entire body is tense and trembling; all you can think about is how badly you need to come, how much you are aching for your release.

So close.

“Loki, please,” you moan, truly desperate now. “Please let me come. Make me yours—”

You’re not sure if it’s what you said, the desperation in your voice, or pure coincidence, but in that moment, he shifts his rhythm so that his mouth and fingers are no longer alternating, but are instead moving in sync. And this is what you need to tip you over, to allow that wave to finally, finally crest and then break.

Your orgasm hits you hard, pulling a loud moan from deep within your chest and making your entire body quake. Sparklers are dancing along your veins, champagne bubbles fizzing along your muscles, stars bursting behind your eyes. You have never felt anything like this before—you are satisfied but also aching for more, falling apart and being remade over and over again.

It’s only when you’re decidedly in the blissful wave of the aftershocks that he dares to lift his head and he looks you over like you’re something wonderful. Before you can raise your hands to reach for him, he’s crawling up to you, claiming your mouth in a kiss that feels deeper than the ocean.

He slides his hand in between your legs and you whimper, shivering at the sensation of his thumb stroking your sensitive clit. But somehow, he finds that particular angle and pressure that’s just enough, but not too much. You moan and he slides a finger back into you, rolling in the same rhythm as his thumb on your clit.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Keep going for me, darling. I want to watch you come this time.” His voice is so firm and authoritative and it strikes sparks up and down your spine.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your hips rocking with his hand.

“You’re doing so well getting ready for me,” he purrs. He lowers his voice to a rough growl. “I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re trembling and coming all over my cock like the wicked, filthy girl that you are.”

It’s the combination of his words and his voice and his perfect hands that does it this time. A rolling, fluttering shudder fizzes through your body, building to a peak that has you letting out a guttural moan as you clench around his thrusting fingers.

“Yes, that’s it,” Loki says as he watches you through hooded eyes. “You are gorgeous when you come undone.”

He kisses you slowly, fingers moving steadily until the final shudder rolls through you.

Somehow, through all of this, he’s remained fully clothed. There’s an aspect to this that’s appealing—it makes everything feel particularly decadent and a little forbidden—but your palms are practically itching with your need to touch him. You need him inside you, but you also need him close, bare skin on bare skin.

Your hands sneak under his shirt and you suck in a sharp breath when you feel the heat of his skin underneath your palms. You tug his shirt off him and make quick work of his pants before drawing back to look at him.

He looks like art. It’s a silly thought, but there’s some truth to it—there’s an almost ethereal quality in the sharp angles of his face and the elegant symmetry of his musculature.

Your gaze drifts down to his cock. He’s long, thick, and hard, the tip flushed and slick with pre-come. An ache courses through you—something about seeing the full evidence of his arousal makes everything seem more real, makes you want him with renewed ferocity.

You want to touch him and so you do, your fingers curling around his shaft.

“Can you feel how much I need you?” he asks as you stroke him slowly. He is remarkably composed, though you catch the slight hitch in his breath and it sends a thrill through you.

“Will you show me?” you ask.

“Every day,” he says.

It’s an answer you’re not expecting. You were speaking strictly in the immediate, physical sense. This feels deeper, more meaningful. You’re not quite sure what to say, so you kiss him and he kisses you back with an intensity and thoroughness that makes your toes curl.

He rolls over you, his body covering yours. It’s almost overwhelming how good his bare skin feels against yours. You take his cock in your hand again and stroke him, slowly rubbing the tip from your clit to your entrance, coating him in your slick.

You expect him to just push forward when you guide him to your entrance and you’re almost disappointed that he doesn’t—you’ve both waited so long for this and your need for him is burning inside you like an inferno.

But instead he pauses, his eyes locked with yours.

“Will you have me?” he asks. There’s vulnerability in the question, a softness in his green eyes that you don’t expect. It feels like a loaded question, though not necessarily in a bad way.

You don’t hesitate. “Yes,” you breathe.

Something like relief flashes briefly in his eyes before he leans in and kisses you. You tilt your hips up again and this time, you feel the blunt head of his cock slowly press into your waiting warmth.

You’d read people describing first times with their soulmates and it had always sounded so hyperbolic and silly. They’d throw around words like euphoric and transcendent and all you could do was try not to roll your eyes.

But the moment Loki is fully seated inside you, you finally get it. Every overwrought, overused cliché seems to occur to you all at once—puzzle pieces falling into place and locks and keys and halves made whole and all that bullshit—and it all makes sense in a way that it hadn’t before.

Loki’s eyes are stormy above you, to the point that you think you may have angered him, but then he kisses you with a ferocity and possessiveness that steals your breath and makes you tighten around him.

“Mine,” he growls against your lips. “Mine.”

There’s a lot of emotion in that word. There’s history in that word. It’s the sort of thing that the two of you will probably need to unpack later. For now, though, you wrap your legs around him and meet his demanding, hungry kisses with your own.

“I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips. “Take me.”

You expect him to respond to that plea with a frantic pace. But instead, his first thrusts are slow, like he’s savoring it. Your body yields to him instinctively, your muscles drawing him in and then tightening further as he withdraws. You are so slick, so ready for him that it almost feels a little obscene.

“You are exquisite,” he rasps as he sinks into you, his head bowing to kiss and nip at your neck. “I have been aching for you.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

You’re not entirely sure what you’re asking for—more of this, more of him—but he seems to know anyway. He kisses you deeply as you wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips up to meet his.

In one fluid motion, he rolls you over so that you are on top. He looks up at you, an irrepressible smirk curling at the corners of his lips.

“Go on,” he says, his voice low. “I want to see you take your pleasure from me. Claim your throne, my love.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. This is a man who single-handedly conquered the entire planet and he’s telling you he wants you to ride his cock until you come. It is raw and sexy and undeniably hot and the way he’s looking up at you makes you feel beautiful and powerful.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on the mattress, tilting your pelvis until you find the right angle, the one that makes your stomach tighten and your breath stutter.

A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. “Right there?”

You let out a shaky breath and rock your hips. “Yeah.”

It takes a moment for you to find your rhythm, but you find that you want—or perhaps need—to go slow and steady. Loki watches you, his hips rocking with yours as he lets you set the pace, his hands sliding from your hips to your breasts and back again, like he can’t get enough. His gaze is intent and intense and you get the sense that he’s cataloging every movement, every gasp or sigh, furrowed brow or bitten lip.

The coil in your hips is starting to wind tighter and you know it won’t be long.

As though he knows, Loki slides a hand down your body, palm gently pressing against your lower stomach. A fantastic pressure begins to blossom in your hips and you whimper.

“You’re doing so well,” he purrs. “So tight and wet. You’re perfect.”

“Getting close,” you breathe.

“I know, I can feel you,” he says.

You’re at a point somewhere beyond words, riding that wave, chasing bliss that you can almost feel. A choked whimper falls from your lips.

“That’s it,” rasps Loki. “Be a good girl and come on my cock.” He flicks his thumb against your clit and you completely unravel.

It was good the first two times, but having him inside you as you come sends you to another plane of existence entirely. Your orgasm seems extended, the feeling of his cock against the spasming muscles of your cunt creating more even rippling pleasure. And the noise that he makes, the filthy praise that falls from his lips, the way that his fingertips dig into your hips just makes it all better.

He rolls you over onto your back just as you’re starting to feel boneless, and pulls you into a deep kiss. He thrusts into you, a little faster than the pace you had set, but still slow and steady.

“I want to feel you come again,” he breathes. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this, how good you feel?”

You shudder as his cock drags again against that spot inside you. He repeats the motion and you keen, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“That’s it,” he rasps, bringing your leg up over his hip to press even more deeply inside of you. “Come on, darling. Let me feel you.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, meeting his hungry, demanding kiss with your own. You roll your hips with his, chasing the flickers of bliss that he’s steadily stoking to an inferno once more.

“Please,” you mumble against his lips. “Need you. Please.”

He groans and increases his pace just enough to make you whimper. The desire inside of you is catching fire.

“I…fuck, I—” Your hands are gripping his shoulders, your body shaking as you approach your end.

Loki’s eyes are wild, his teeth bared. You can tell that he’s close, that he’s chasing the same incredible feeling that you are.

“I want you to come for me,” he grits out. “And the second I feel your tight cunt start to tremble around me, I’m going to come inside you.

You moan, fingernails digging into his shoulders. You are unbearably close.

“Do you want that, darling?” he says. “Do you want me to come inside you? Do you want your perfect cunt filled with my seed?”

You are almost beyond words, but not quite: “Yes. Please.”

Despite how close he is, he still gives the impression of being entirely in control. He lowers his head so that his lips graze yours and his eyes are all that you can see. “Then come for me,” he says.

Two more deadly smooth rolls of his hips and you do. A guttural, plaintive sound falls from your lips as your whole body trembles with the force of your orgasm, your cunt squeezing around the girth of his cock. He groans, mumbling something in a language you don’t recognize before he, too, starts to unravel.

His face is rapturous when he comes, his head tipping back and his mouth falling open, brow furrowing. If you weren’t so distracted with the rippling shocks of your own pleasure, you would try to commit it to memory. Instead, you simply try to enjoy the feeling of him emptying himself inside of you, the stuttering thrust of his hips, the soft groan that falls from his lips. Finally he stills, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. You can feel his heart pounding against yours.

You feel…it’s not different, exactly, but there’s a kind of ease and connection that just feels right. The restless ache inside of you is finally quiet and you feel loose and languid and pleasantly sleepy.

Finding your soulmate isn’t necessarily the same as falling in love. Sometimes it all happens in the moment. Sometimes it’s years in between.

For you, though, you can pinpoint the exact moment that seed was planted: Loki raising his head to look at you, his hand curled against your cheek. His gaze is careful, reverent, like you are as warm and golden as the dawn just barely beginning to streak the morning sky.

#loki smut #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki x you #loki fanfic #loki x yn #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson smut #loki fanfiction

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spaceshipellie · 9 months

Note

hear me out, ellie, “is there someone who has your heart, that keeps you gone, away from me?”, angry confessions in the rain, modern or tlou au, angst and smut if you want. (i really am just fiening for a heated confession LOL)

“is there someone who has your heart, that keeps you gone, away from me?”

pairing: ellie x reader

summary/warnings: you’ve been dating ellie and everything’s been great, until you suspect she might be involved with someone else and have to confront her. angst. cheating. modern au. mdni

i hope this was heated enough! i’ve been writing a lot of angsty personal shit lately so needed to write an angsty request whilst it’s still in my system lol

being with ellie had always felt like the sun was kissing your skin with smiling lips. like when you first step into a pool and at first the coolness nips at your skin and you’re unsure if you want to go any further but once you allow yourself to be completely submerged, it feels delicious.

you hadn’t had the best of luck with relationships in the past which admittedly made it easy for you to get anxious. the sickening cold rush that travels up through your body, debilitating any move you try and make, was one you felt often and you hated it about yourself. not that it was your fault but you couldn’t help but beat yourself up about it.

ellie knew this and had always gone out of her way to make you feel good. she showered you with reminders about how beautiful and funny and smart you are, how lucky she is to have you, how she never wants to make you feel bad and if she ever does you’re to tell her so she can fix it.

you had nodded your teary face when she had told you this, a weak smile on your lips preparing an apology for getting emotional. you always felt embarrassed crying in front of people, especially people who you were dating. but ellie had held your hands, wiped the tears from your cheeks with delicate touches and kissed them before kissing you like you were her everything.

it was a saturday night and you were lying in her bed, naked, breathless and completely fucked out. she was lying with her face smushed in your neck, a hand comfortingly holding your boob and a cosy smile on her face letting out tiny satisfied sighs. she then reluctantly climbed off of you to go to the bathroom when your phone dinged on the bedside table. you rolled over to grab it but not before seeing a message light up on her phone which was right beside yours, reading:

ava

god i literally adore you

that familiar cold rush creeped up your body and your face went hot. that word, adore, was jabbing your mind. maybe if you knew who this person was you would understand the context of the message but you had no idea. ellie came back in the bedroom then and you quickly shuffled as if you were just getting comfortable. she didn’t seem to pick up on anything as she slid in behind you, wrapping an arm around you and kissing your shoulder.

you held her close, as if it was tricking your brain into believing it would keep her there. that hugging her tightly meant she was yours and couldn’t possibly be someone else’s too. you turned in her arms and glanced down at her closed eyes with her pretty lashes and freckles scattered like a painting. she was so beautiful it made you want to cry. but you suddenly felt like an imposter being here with her, naked in bed. so intimate yet so detached. what if another girl had been in here with her recently? holding her like this with her hand trailing soft lines up and down their arm, fucking her like you just had, making her cum on their tongue whilst she tells them how good they make her feel, giggling and exchanging i love you’s when it’s over. no, she wasn’t like the others. she couldn’t be.

you had pushed the thoughts so far back you had nearly forgotten about them several days later, until a girl drunkenly waddled up to you at the bar you were at with your friends. she touched your forearm to get your attention and hiccuped when she giggled, her eyes struggling to keep contact with yours.

“oh my god, are you ellie’s girlfriend?”

you looked at her, confused.

“yeah? i am, why?”

“oh,” she laughed again, her friends now catching up to her and snickering. “no reason.”

okay, what the fuck? your body suddenly felt too heavy to hold up as you leant further against the bar.

“who are you?” you asked but her friends had already started to drag her away. however, the blood drained from your face when you heard one of them say “ava, come on.”

i adore you. it screamed in your head like a banshee. you needed to speak to ellie. you made an excuse up for your friends and cursed when you walked outside into the pouring rain. hugging your jean jacket around you tightly you marched in the direction of ellie’s apartment, deciding to call her on the way.

“hello?”

“hi, i need to talk to you.”

“sure, what’s wrong? are you still out?”

“i just left. ellie i– please say you’re at home.”

“i’m not.” your heart sunk. “i’m at jesse’s but i can walk back right now if you need me to.”

“please. i really need to talk to you.”

“okay, babe. see you in a bit.”

you were drenched at this point. your hair was sticking to your face and your jacket felt heavy. you hadn’t quite made it to ellie’s street yet when you suddenly saw her walking over the road. you called her name and she spotted you, immediately checking for cars quickly as she jogged over.

“baby, what’s going on? why are you by yourself?”

“who’s ava?” you’d hoped you could be more chill about the situation but the little bit of alcohol you’d already had had made you lose all hope of that.

“what?”

“ava, ellie. some girl i know you’ve been talking to.”

she stared back at you. her face scrunched slightly due to being pelted by rain drops.

“what are you talking about?”

“don’t do this right now,” you sighed, “this girl came up to me giggling and asked if i was your girlfriend and i’m sorry but i saw you had a text from her a week or so ago so, explain.”

you wiped your cheeks as if that would get rid of any of the rain droplets and folded your arms across your chest. her face looked forlorn and concerned.

“how do you know that girl was av–“

“because i heard her name! fuck, is that really what you wanna say first?”

“no, sorry.” she looked down at her feet and didn’t follow up with anything.

“ellie! tell me what the fuck is going on!”

“nothing! it’s not like that.”

“what does that even mean? just be fucking honest, please.”

“we just talked, i swear. nothing happened.”

“talked about what?”

“i don’t know, stuff. fuck.”

“stuff.. hmm. like what, like how much she adores you?”

her eyes shifted to look away from you.

“i saw the text. promise i wasn’t snooping but maybe you should be more careful about your phone next time you decide to fuck around with another girl.” your voice was bitter and she looked like she was struggling to find the words.

“that, that text– fuck. okay. i fucked up. i slept with her once and i regret it entirely.”

you squeezed your eyes shut, desperately trying not to keep it together in front of her.

“when?”

“like, two weeks ago.”

you paused for a moment to relive the past two weeks in your head. all the touches, late nights, texts, kisses, photos, words, all tarnished by the fact that her attention had been shared with another girl.

“why? how?”

“honestly, i don’t know.”

“well think.”

“i–i met her at a party. i messed up, i wasn’t thinking.”

“is that the best you can do?”

“what do you want me to say?!” her voice was raised now, leaving you both in a bit of a screaming match.

“what is wrong with you? i thought everything was fine. what the fuck did i do?”

“nothing! i just– i don’t know what to fucking say other than i’m sorry and i’ve blocked her already. it’s not going to happen again.”

“oh, you’re so considerate,” you snapped sarcastically.

“tell me how i can fix it.”

“i’m not sure, ellie. i think i need to go home.”

“please don’t.”

“i can’t do this.”

she tried to reach for your hand but you slipped away and walked quickly back to your apartment, not daring to look back at her. halfway through the drenched walk you realised you could have called an uber but you just needed to get away and the adrenaline was carrying your legs too fast.

you had no idea what you were going to do. the sound of ellie’s laugh when she danced with you in the kitchen and ava’s smug giggle when she approached you fought for centre stage in your head. you closed your eyes, praying that when you opened them it would all have just been a huge nightmare, but it wasn’t. ellie had hurt you, just like the ones before.

#tlou x cain requests 🌙#anon requests 🌷#ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams oneshot #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie angst

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sapphicantics · 1 month

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Don’t Want Another Lover

Pairing: Janis Imi’ike x fem!reader

Summary: Janis ditches a blind date you’d spent helping her prepare for and you confront her at a party to find out why.

Contents: best friends to lovers trope, pining!Janis, talks of unrequited love, Janis is constantly talking about being alone,

Word count: 1.4K

Authors note: This was not supposed to be the next fic I posted but Towa put me in a chokehold with her song and I’ve spent all weekend working on this so here we are. Also imma say this now, I guarantee you guys are gonna get tired of me because the amount of fics running through my head inspired by this song is fucking ridiculous but we’ll see if I actually stick with them and they’ll come out. If you haven’t already, listen to the song down below.

— — — —

Janis Imi’ike can’t believe she let herself be talked into this again.

The this in question is yet another date her best friends somehow convinced her to go on with a girl they’re sure she’ll like because she needs to put herself out there if she ever wants to get a girlfriend. Janis had scoffed at this because Damian doesn’t even like girls so what would he know about getting a girlfriend.

Still, she agreed if only to get over this ridiculous crush she has.

Except getting over her crush is damn near impossible when said crush is also one of her best friends who originally started this whole ‘get Janis a girlfriend’ thing in the first place and is currently helping her get ready for date number whatever.

“Where are you guys going for your date again?”

Janis looks up from her sketchbook, watching you rummage around in her closet. You’re dressed in a white crop top and a pair of black cargo sweatpants that are hanging low on your hips, and Janis can’t stop her eyes from tracing over the skin on display.

“Janis?”

Janis wonders if your skin is as sensitive as it looks; if a single finger would have goosebumps raising on your flesh.

“Janis?”

Janis wonders how it would feel to press kisses along your skin; how many kisses it’d take to make you melt and turn you to putty in her hands.

“Janis!”

She jumps, her eyes shooting up to yours. “What? Sorry, I- I didn’t hear what you said.”

You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. “I asked where you were going for your date.”

“Oh, uh,” Janis licks her lips in thought as she tries to remember exactly where she’s supposed to be meeting this date, Laura she thinks this one’s name is, and what they were supposed to be doing. “We’re going to an art museum.”

You nod and turn back to her closet, rummaging around for a few more moments before emerging with several items in hand. You toss them all on the bed and tug Janis up by her arm, and she has to bite back a groan as she prepares to be turned into a human mannequin.

If it was anyone else, she would’ve snatched her arm away already, but Janis has never been able to deny you anything, so she stands in place while you hold up different articles of clothing until you’ve seemingly decided on the perfect outfit for her; leaving the accessories and makeup to complete the look up to her.

She turns to you once she’s finished and her breath hitches as you reach up and adjust the necklaces around her neck, your fingers tracing lightly on her skin and it takes everything in Janis to fight back the sigh of content that so desperately wants to escape her lips.

She’s done such a good job hiding her feelings from you and she can’t reveal them now. She’s already had several close calls before and she can’t risk destroying her friendship with you over feelings you’ll never return.

No matter how much Janis wishes it was different, she knows the way you’re smoothing down her shirt and brushing off her shoulders is purely platonic.

“You look beautiful.”

Janis blinks her eyes open, unsure when exactly she closed them, and she gulps at the bright smile on your face.

You seem more excited about this date than her and you’re not even the one going on it. She wonders if you’d look that excited if you were going on this date, and her heart clenches in response because she knows you wouldn’t be going with her.

She pushes back how much that thought hurts and instead gives you a smile. “Thank you, it’s all thanks to you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jay, you’re always beautiful. The most beautiful girl in the world.”

Janis swears she’s going to fucking combust if another compliment falls from your mouth and she has to act like it doesn’t mean anything to her when it means absolutely everything to her.

She can practically hear Damian’s voice in her head calling her hopeless — which she is, but she doesn’t need his two cents even if he isn’t here to actually give it.

Thankfully (or maybe not depending on how she looks at it), she doesn’t have to dwell on that too much longer because it’s time for her to leave if she wants to make her date on time — which she totally didn’t forget about until just now — and while she’d much rather stay here with you, she’s not rude enough to bail 15 minutes before the initial meetup.

“Have fun, Jay,” you call. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

Admittedly, the date is nice and Janis does vibe with Laura, but she ends up cutting the date short because she keeps picturing you in Lauras’ place instead and that’s not fair to anyone.

She does not tell you that, of course.

She’s actually been avoiding telling you anything about the date which is only making you suspicious about all the things that could’ve happened and made Janis shut down on you like this.

It all comes to a head at a party which you convinced Janis ( and invited Damian because that man needs no convincing when it comes to parties ) to come to and got ample amounts of alcohol in your system.

You end up stealing Janis away from her corner where she’s spent majority of the time glaring at anyone who isn’t you or Damian attempting to talk to her and drag her into an empty room upstairs away from the party.

You’re not tipsy, but you’re also not drunk enough to where you can’t consent to anything or will forget about tonight.

Janis knows this as she’s gotten drunk with you multiple times and she knows you get bold when you’re like this, but she still doesn’t expect the words that come out of your mouth once the door closes behind you.

“Janis, what the fuck?”

Pure confusion laces her face, but you continue before she can say anything.

“I just ran into Laura and she told me you dipped out in the middle of the date.”

“Damian called me, said he was having an emergency.”

Janis can’t seem to deny you anything, but lying to you is apparently really easy. Of course, she’s lying to keep you in her life so that’s probably why it’s so easy.

“Bullshit, Imi’ike,” you scoff. “You’ve been crying about wanting a girlfriend, doing absolutely fuck all to get one, and then you keep accepting to go on these dates I’m setting up for you that are going absolutely no where, for what reason?”

Janis has the decency to look guilty, but in her defense she never asked you to do any of that. She was perfectly content to remain single and alone for the rest of her life while everyone else in her life got to fall in love and find their happy endings.

It fucking hurts that she won’t get hers.

And that combined with the alcohol in her system seems to be enough to make the truth finally come out.

“I don’t want a fucking girlfriend, I want you as my girlfriend!”

Silence falls between the two of you and Janis takes the time to process what she’s said.

Fuck.

Janis decides she fucking hates Tequila and is never going to drink again. It’s cost her a 6+ year friendship and Janis swears when she’s older she’s absolutely going to destroy Tequila manufacturers for this.

“Say it again.”

She can’t believe you’d actually be this cruel to her.

( Somewhere in the back of her head, Janis can hear a voice that is fed up with her shit calling her an idiot and a useless fucking lesbian.

It’s Damian again, she’s sure, and she wishes he’d stop popping up in her head at these times. )

“Janis, please say it again,” you whisper. “Say it again so I know it’s real and not in my head this time.”

It takes a moment for the words to register in Janis’ head and there’s a slither of hope in her heart as she stares at you. Slowly, she releases a breath and speaks. “I want you as my girlfriend.”

“Then kiss me and prove it.”

“Are you sure?”

You place your hands on her neck and her hands fall to your hips, pulling you flush against her. Your lips are inches from hers, breaths mingling together, and if she moves the slightest bit, she’ll kiss you.

“Positive.”

But that’s what you want.

And well, when has Janis ever been able to deny you anything?

#janis imi'ike #janis imiike x reader #janis ‘imi’ike #janis ‘imi’ike x reader #janis ‘imi’ike x fem!reader #janis imiike x fem!reader #janis x reader #mean girls 2024 #Spotify

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reysdriver · 11 months

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sirius black x pureblood!slytherin!reader where he takes her home for break or for the summer and walburga and Orion are enthralled by her which pisses sirius off for obvious reasons and he distanced himself from her and eventually she confronts him and reassures him

When Sirius brings you home to Grimmauld Place over the winter break and then starts to distance himself, you feel the need to confront him and talk about what's going on — sirius x fem!pureblood!slytherin!reader hurt/comfort

warnings: themes of a toxic/abusive family

words: 0.8k

a/n: I was kinda unsure how to write this one since the family is canonically super abusive to sirius so I'm just kinda pretending they're more just cold and rude to him so I could make this, I hope you like it :)

“Regulus,” You called alongside a knock on his door, pulling his attention away from the book in his hands. “Do you know where Sirius has gone off to?”

He sat up so his back was up against the hard headboard. “He’s probably moping in his room. That’s his favourite thing to do here.”

You would have laughed at that if it weren’t for the fact that you just couldn’t find your boyfriend. “I’ve checked there.” You sighed. “But that’s alright, he’s somewhere around here.”

After thanking Regulus politely—even if he couldn’t help find his brother—you left his bedroom and went back to looking for Sirius.

Over the winter break, you had noticed yourself having to play this one-sided game of hide and seek several times. It was frustrating, especially when you didn’t know why he was so distant. Nevertheless, you kept your head up and just continued the search.

You checked the drawing room and sure enough, there he was, sitting by the window and looking outside. You walked towards Sirius and tapped him on the shoulder to show him what you had wanted to show him in the first place.

“Siri, look at this bracelet your mother gave me. Isn’t it nice? She said I could even have the whole set as a wedding gift eventually!” You said happily, flashing him a silver bracelet adorned with small but shining emeralds.

He flashed a tiny smile, not nearly matching your emotions or genuineness. “Yeah, love, it’s pretty.”

You could tell he obviously didn’t care. Sirius was pretty fashion forward and has been enthusiastic in the past when you’ve shown him new clothes or jewellery, so that excuse couldn’t be used.

Running through different excuses and reasons as to why he was acting this way, you had thought that maybe he was upset that both you and his mother had been thinking about marriage. Insecurity surged throughout your whole body.

You had spoken about marriage before, but it was never more than pillow talk or teasing jokes; was your relationship getting too real for Sirius? Was he upset that you had been talking to his family about your future together? Had he lost his feelings?

The different theories flying around in your head were getting to be too much, and you couldn’t let them go unanswered. You were determined to figure out what was going on as soon as possible.

You sat down on the loveseat with him. You were close to him, but you still gave him enough space in case he wanted it.

“Sirius, what’s wrong?” You asked softly. “You’ve been seeming off lately.”

He just brushed it away. “Nothing’s wrong.”

You knew it was a lie so you kept pressing gently. “I know there’s something that’s upsetting you. Just tell me what it is so we can fix it.”

“I’m fine.” He insisted. “You can go back to hanging out with my parents, maybe they’ll give you my bedroom by the end of the week.”

That stung slightly, but it did at least partially reveal the reason for his recent distance. He was upset that his parents were so taken with you. Of course, you understood that Sirius didn’t have the best relationship with his family, but you had hoped he would be happy seeing you getting along with them. The thought of him being jealous hadn’t even crossed your mind.

You brought a hand to his upper arm and rested it there. You tried speaking softly to make it clear you weren’t judging him at all. “Siri, are you jealous?”

“They like you more than me.”

“They don’t. They’re just happy I’m in Slytherin. They like that they’ll have pureblood grandkids with the most Slytherin lineage as possible.”

“But you like them too.” Sirius said sadly.

“I only like them as much as they like you.” You explained. “If they’re gonna be awful to you, then I don’t like them at all. I can just pretend otherwise in exchange for some priceless family heirlooms.”

There was a smug smile on your face as you shook your bracelet in front of Sirius, causing him to chuckle.

“You’d steal from my family for me?” He asked you with a fake pout.

You cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss to those soft lips you love so much. “Of course I would. And once we graduate and get the hell away from them, we’ll sell it all and buy a nice house without ever dipping into your uncle’s fortune.”

“Alright.” He sighed overdramatically. “If it’s for a great cause like that, then I think you should go ahead and ask my mother for a tour of all her priceless jewels.”

“I’ll make sure she gives me a nice brooch so we can have a pool, my love.”

#sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #sirius black angst #sirius black fluff #hurt/comfort #marauders era #marauders angst #marauders fluff #xena's requests

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somanyratsinthewalls · 4 months

Text

Burning Hearts Chapter 11

Pairing: Law x Straw Hat Zoan Type (named) OC

Summary: You were teleported across the globe in an instant, away from your crew. Your body was badly broken and beaten, thrust into the harsh landscape of a Northern island. You are discovered by the Heart Pirates and brought back to health. Startled upon waking up in a foreign place with an unfamiliar crew, you are shocked with the news that you’ll be spending two years there. Trafalgar Law, the captain of the Heart Pirates has made a promise to train you, but will it become something more than a mentor relationship?

WC: 3000

Taglist: @cottoncandyloverrrr @zoros-fourth-sword @nothing-but-brass

Burning Hearts Chapter 11: Coffee Break

— —

Law was a creature of habit. Your training begun every morning, Monday through Saturday, at 8 AM sharp in the clearing in the forest. It would end promptly at noon and the two of you would return to the base together for lunch. Law didn’t wear a watch, he was so meticulous that he could run his daily routine in his sleep.

The opposite of how you were. Your body was finally used to having a strict wake up time, but even then Ikkaku would often have to bust through your door and hoist you out of bed when you were feeling extra lazy. You missed your life on the Sunny with your friends, there was organized chaos every day. You could roll out of bed at 6 AM or noon, Sanji would make your favorite breakfast anyway. You could spend your days sparring with Zoro, doing makeup with Robin, or playing Go-Fish with Chopper… no one breathing down your neck about what to do and when…

“Why can Bepo talk?” You ask, trailing behind Law on your way back from training. It was a few days after your confrontation with him on the submarine and you had continued your training without addressing it again.

“What?” Law replies.

“He’s a bear… but he’s also like… a person? I’ve seen him swim so obviously it’s not a devil fruit situation…”

“You’ve never seen a mink?”

“A who now?”

“A mink? The people from Zou?”

“Nope.”

Law sighs.

“They’re a race of bipedal animal beings. History says humans evolved from them, we just became less hairy.”

“So everyone there is a polar bear?” You cock your head.

Law sighs again, frustrated.

“No. They’re all different mammals. How have you not heard of this? I thought you said your doctor was deer?”

“A reindeer. And no, Chopper’s a real reindeer, he just ate the Human-Human fruit.” You respond.

“Hmm… Interesting.”

Several more minutes pass with no sounds except the squelching of your boots in the mud underneath you as you made you way back to compound. Law glances back at you.

“So… ah..” Law begins, uncomfortably. “Do you like to have coffee?”

You furrow your brow.

“Like… in general? Do I enjoy coffee?” You respond, confused.

“No, shit, I mean like…” Law stumbles over his words. This was very much not like the composed, mysterious pirate captain you trained with. “What I mean is, do you want to have a coffee later? In my office.”

Those last words almost looked like they pained him to get out.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh! Well I…” You begin.

“I got some books when we went to town the other day, I want to show you a few things from them. It might help with developing your devil fruit ability.” Law quickly interrupts.

“Right, well… it’s tomato season so I’ve got a bunch of work to do in the garden, then I’ve got kitchen duty for dinner… but if you can put one of the guys on dishes I think I can stop by afterwards.”

“I can do that.”

— —

“Daisyyyy! Shachi is hogging the sandwiches!”

You spin around with a grilled cheese in your mouth.

“Shachi if you don’t let that plate go I’m going to set you on fire!”

“Jeez, okay mom.” Shachi rolls his eyes and passes the plate of sandwiches to Penguin.

You wolf down the rest of your dinner and pour a hefty bowl of soup to set on a little tray. You place a spoon and a napkin on the tray. You ball up the dishtowel on your shoulder in your hands and throw it at Shachi’s head.

“Your greedy ass is on dish duty tonight, I have a meeting.”

“Oh a meeting?” Ikkaku raises an eyebrow over her bowl of soup.

“Yes a meeting to make sure your captain doesn’t die of scurvy and malnutrition. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” You push out of the galley with the tray of soup and head to Law’s office.

Upon reaching his door, you knock with your heel due to your hands being full. The door cracks open with some unseen force… oh yeah.. the room thing…

“Supper’s on!” You smile while pushing the door open with your shoulder. You see Law at his desk with stacks of old, coverless tomes surrounding him. The books had notes crudely shoved into certain pages. He looks up from the text briefly to beckon you into his office further. You set the bowl of soup and a spoon in front of Law on his desk after folding up the book he was actively reading.

“Eat. You’re borderline skeletal.” You meet his eyes then nod towards the food.

Law hums and picks up the bowl.

“Its tomato and egg soup, I grew the tomatoes myself and I added some white pepper and ginger. Tell me if you think it’s-“

Law gulped down the entire bowl in a few seconds and wiped his mouth with his hand. He placed the empty bowl back down on his desk. You raised your brow in surprise.

“Gods when was the last time you ate?”

“Hmm… yesterday?” Law grabs one of the books from his many stacks and opens to a marked page.

“These are texts on medieval creatures. It’s not devil fruits, but it might help us figure out what you’re capable of. If you look here- wait. I promised you coffee, didn’t I?”

You smile a little.

“That you did.”

“Well, excuse me then.” Law stands, shut the book and moves towards his coffee maker in the corner of his office.

As Law fiddles with his espresso machine, you take the time to get a good look around the room. You had barely spent any time in here so you wanted to see what Trafalgar Law, Surgeon of Death keeps in his safe space. It was bookshelves, mostly. The antique wood of the bookcases and the worn leather and suede of the furniture was sure a stark contrast to the cold steel flooring and walls. Everything was meticulously clean and organized, except there were tiny little human touches that didn’t go unnoticed by your. His wastebasket was full of empty shrimp-chip bags, crushed energy drink cans, and salt water taffy wrappers. This must be what he lives on when you don’t force him to eat.

“For a doctor, your diet sucks.” You chuckle as Law returns to the desk with two cups of coffee in hand. He hands you one and sits back down in his desk chair. He smirks.

“I forget about food.”

“That’s insane.”

“Is it?”

“Food is… so important! It fuels your body! Your brain! You can’t live off caffeine and carbs… but I think you know that, doc.”

Law rolls his eyes. “Thank you for the soup.” He opens a drawer in his desk and roots around before pulling out a small bottle of whiskey. He pours a shot or two into his coffee before handing you the bottle.

“Is this a good idea, after what happened the last time we drank together, Mr Trafalgar?” You smile cheekily at him before grabbing the bottle and pouring some into your cup of coffee.

Law blushes. Oh gods you had never seen him blush before. He was quite adorable when he was flustered…

Law makes a hand gesture as if it say “shut up” and cracks his book open again.

“A wyvern is much like a traditional dragon… scales, breathing fire, long tail, but the difference, as you know would be the wings. It’s clear you’ve harnessed quite a few of these attributes, but you’ve failed to unlock your full Zoan form. I think if you look at these pictures and notes, you might find some information that might help you.”

You look down at the dusty page. It was filled with vicious, fire breathing dragons ripping the heads off unsuspecting villagers.

“I…. I don’t know if I was to be just like… that…” You point down at the page.

“Of course not. That’s why you need to learn to control yourself and your abilities before you assume your final form and-“

“So I have to stop accidentally burning your eyebrows off?” You interject.

“That would be appreciated, yes.” Law responds, playfully annoyed. “Once you can burn my eyebrows off on purpose, we can move forward.”

You snort-laugh into your spiked coffee. Was he funny? Or was it the whiskey talking? First you think he’s cute, now you think he’s funny? Was it a full moon? Were you finally losing it?

“What’s with all those newspapers?” You take another sip of your drink and stand up. You walk towards the stack of old newspapers at the bottom of one of Law’s bookcases.

“It’s not for the newspapers. It’s for the comics.”

You nod your head down and give him a look.

“The comics?”

“Sora, Warrior of the Sea. It’s the greatest comic ever made. I have ever single issue ever made.”

“hmm… never heard of it.” You say as you flip through the stack.

“What? You’ve never heard of Sora? Stealth Black? It’s been running in the WENP for years.” Law asks.

“Nope, nothing rings a bell.”

“Grab the bottom one. Bring it here.”

You oblige and carefully pull Issue 1 from the bottom of the stack of papers. You bring it over to Law’s desk and he flips open immediately to the beginning of the comic strip. “See look, this is Sora. He’s a marine hero, and he fights against Germa 66. He’s got this robot here, see?”

Law points at the comic on the page and you listen intently. As he explains the years long lore of this fictional hero, you notice a certain sparkle in the pirate captain’s eye. He wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the figures on the crusty old newspaper page with awe and splendor. You listened for what felt like ages about this nerdy comic strip, but you were mesmerized at the sight of Law finally showing interest in something.

“So who is this guy?” You point at a character on the page.

“Good question, this is a new character in this chapter so… wait you’re actually listening?” Law turns to finally meet your gaze.

“… yes? Why would I not be?” You cock your head.

“I-I just thought you’d be.. bored… or something..” Law still looks at the page.

“I’m not bored. I’ve never read this before. It’s interesting. Can we read one more? Tomorrow’s Sunday… no bed time, am I right?” You ask.

“O-Of course! If you want to!” Law quickly moves from his desk and grabs Issue 2 from the stack. He hurries back to his desk and opens up to the first comic panel.

“I-If you really want to see the art, you can move your chair over here…” Law scoots his desk chair over to make space for you on his side of the desk.

You oblige and move your chair to the other side of the desk so that you and Law were sitting shoulder to shoulder. He points to a character in the comic. “So if you see here…”

Law rambles through the entirety of the comic book with great interest. You alternate looking from the page to his shining face as he smiles, explaining the deep lore behind the story. You had never seen Law so impassioned about anything, let alone a nerdy piece of print media. The hour was drawing late and you yawn involuntarily.

“Hey, you should get to bed. You worked hard today.” Law closes the old newspaper.

“Hm. Thanks. You know I really want to hear more about Sora. Maybe we can read more another time?” You ask.

“R-really? I mean.. Yes. We can do that. Enjoy your day off.” Law replies with wide eyes.

“Goodnight, Law.” You smile as you head towards the door of Law’s office.

“Goodnight.”

You shut the cold steel door behind you and return to your room. Halfway through trudging through the base you realize you had a stupid grin plastered across your face. It was so fascinating to see such an uptight and cold man let loose and info dump about his special interests. He liked superhero comics. How were you supposed to ignore how cute that was?

You sigh and push open the metal door to your room.

“Well, well, well.”

“Ah!” You jolt in surprise.

“It’s 12:30 AM. Where were you, miss girl?” Ikkaku cocks her head as she closes the gossip magazine she was reading while lounging on top of your bed.

“I-I told you I had a meeting!” You respond defensively.

“Alone? With the captain? Until the wee hours of the morning? Hmm?”

“OK don’t ‘miss girl’ me! He had some books he needed to show me!” You unzip your jumpsuit and start to brush your hair out for bed.

“That man doesn’t let anyone in his office for more than 10 minutes, let alone several hours! What the hell were you talking about!” Ikkaku asks you in an accusatory fashion.

“Oh my GODS, nothing! He wanted me to learn about my devil fruit powers and we got side tracked talking about that weird comic he likes!”

“Sora?”

“Yes, Sora. The Sea Warrior guy.”

“Damn.” Ikkaku opens up the magazine again and looks down.

“What?”

“He didn’t tell us about his boy-crush on Sora for YEARS! And you’re already reading it with him after a few months? You think I’m stupid?”

“What do you mean? Of course I don’t think that!”

“He likes you. Clearly. Do you like him?” Ikkaku cuts straight to the point.

“I… I don’t know yet.” You sit down on the bed next to her as you stripped yourself of your clothes. Ikkaku wraps an arm around you.

“And that’s okay. Just… be careful. You’ve been through enough, I’d hate to see you get your heart broken too.”

You sigh, relaxing into your pillows.

“I know… Hey… please don’t tell anyone about this, okay?” You look at her.

“of course.” Ikkaku holds out her pinky to you and you smile and hook it with your own. You press your foreheads together and laugh.

“Shit, if he starts getting laid it might be a lot more chill around here.”

You smack Ikkaku on the shoulder and the both of you fall into a fit of laughter.

— —

The next morning you wake up at your own pace, thrilled to not have to train. You throw on some sweatpants and decide it’s time to get some breakfast. As you swing open the door to your stateroom you notice an ugly, dirty glass vase filled with marigolds and coneflowers at your doorstep.

You lean down and pick up the bouquet. It was put together haphazardly, but you recognized the blooms. These were from your garden. You pick up the arrangement and bring it to your nose, inhaling its fresh airy scent. You turn back and place the flowers on your vanity before heading to the kitchen for breakfast.

Ikkaku was at the stove making rice and eggs. You come up behind her and pinch her hip.

“Good morning.”

“Morning, sunshine!” Ikkaku turns her head and smiles at you. “I made a plate for you and one for the captain. Can you drop it by his room?” She smirks.

You roll your eyes.

“Yes ma’am.” You grab both plates and head to Law’s office.

Once reaching his door you shout instead of knocking.

“Chow time, Cap!”

The door opens and you push yourself in.

Law raises his head from his desk and clears it from the medical journals he was reading.

“Good morning.” You smile.

“Good morning, back.” Law looks at the plate you placed in front of him. “Guessing you weren’t on kitchen duty this morning?”

You laugh.

“Ikkaku makes a fine breakfast, you’re just getting spoiled.”

The two of you eat breakfast in silence for awhile.

“Y-You saw the flowers?” Law stutters out in between mouthfuls of rice.

“I did. They’re lovely.” You smirk. “So you snuck out into my garden and picked my flowers to give them to me?” You ask with a playful smile.

“T-that’s… the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.. when you say it like that…” Law puts his fork down and rubs his eyes. Your heart pangs with sympathy. The man had tried.

“Hey, it’s the thought that counts. I loved them.” You finish your plate of food.

Law still doesn’t meet your gaze.

“Thank you for breakfast.” He says while finishing his plate.

“Thank you for the flowers, Law.” You picked up his plate and stacked it with yours. Before grabbing the tableware you make your way around Law’s desk.

You grab Law’s cheek in one hand and lean forward to kiss his other cheek. You let your lips linger on his skin before pulling back. Law freezes.

You take the dishes out of his office and back to the kitchen to clean. As you wash the dishes, you can’t help but worry… were you really going to get involved with this man? This relationship would have an expiration date… would that be fair to either of you? Did you care? He made butterflies erupt in your chest simply by being vulnerable… there was no denying that you felt something from that kiss, too. The noise in your head was too loud. It was time to take your red satchel and head out to the garden shed…

Authors Note:

chapter 11! it's here! If you guys have suggestions on where you want this to go from here, I'd love to hear them! I have a few thoughts floating around but I'm open to suggestion! Law is just such an awkward loser nerd in my head that's why I simply have to write him as one. (He might close the deal soon thought hehehehe)

#one piece #one piece anime #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #law x reader #trafalgar d law #trafalgar op #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar d law x reader #law one piece

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torscrawls · 1 year

Text

Cold Snap

Bruce tries to protect Phantom during his first real mission but he soon finds out that Phantom needs less protection than he thought.

Words: 4 307

Can be read on AO3!

"Phantom. Stay back," Bruce said gruffly as he pushed the Justice League's youngest member behind himself and out of the line of sight of Poison Ivy. She was currently calling forth a small jungle in the middle of the street; vines forcing their way up through the pavement, stems and roots rapidly growing up the sides of the surrounding buildings as they sprouted a copious amount of leaves and flowers.

Predictably, Phantom immediately tried to protest, "It's fine, I can–"

"No," Bruce cut him off as he drew a batarang, "she's dangerous."

Bruce gritted his teeth. Of course Ivy had to show up when it was just him and Phantom on the scene, and unprepared for a confrontation to boot. Bruce had been showing Phantom around Gotham—not giving his new son a tour of his place, no matter what his other children said—but because he wanted Phantom to have the tactical advantage of knowing his surroundings if he ever had to fight in the city. Which proved to have been a very valid point, considering their current situation.

It would be a tough fight to go head to head with Ivy while keeping Phantom safe at the same time. At least the civilians in the area had almost all completely fled by now; routine and repetition really did wonders for the effectiveness of evacuation.

Phantom scoffed. "She's just producing a few flowers. This isn't the first time I've faced someone who's controlling plants, you know?"

Bruce was now positive that Phantom wasn't used to fighting real threats and was severely underestimating the danger. The young ghost had been a part of the Justice League for a fairly short amount of time—coming with them on missions and helping out where his specific skill set was required—but it was enough for Bruce to come to the conclusion that he was an enthusiastic teenager with a lot of potential in the sneaking-around-undetected-business, but he was generally a bit too impatient or just plain untrained to make full use of his potential.

Then again, he hadn't been involved in a full-blown confrontation since he joined the League, but what little fighting Bruce had seen him do was sloppy and more haphazard than he would have liked.

Bruce might have made a mental note to offer some hand-to-hand training for the boy as soon as they had the time to spare. Only to make sure he wasn't a liability in the field. Of course.

But to do that Bruce needed to keep him safe, so he tried to put as much seriousness into his voice as he could as he growled out, "This isn't up for debate, Phantom."

Phantom's retort was drowned out by the deafening sound of a car getting crushed beneath a mass of twisting vines and then by Poison Ivy's voice ringing out across the street, "Enough with all the pollution! Enough with all the destruction! Enough with—"

Before Bruce could stop him, Phantom had called back, "Isn't that a bit ironic considering what you're doing?"

Ivy's eyes fixed on him and Bruce swore under his breath. Of course he had to call her attention to him. Of course. "And who are you supposed to be?"

"I'm Phantom! It's…not nice to meet you, but, you know. Hello."

That seemed to stump her for a second before she laughed. "I like you. Too bad you sided with the wrong side."

Phantom crossed his arms over his chest. "You're the one hurting people and destroying things."

Batman sent him a warning look, trying to get him to stop antagonizing her.

If there was one thing that was good about Ivy, it was that she tended to at least be possible to argue with, to try and find another solution. She did what she did out of a misguided sense of justice, not to simply destroy and hurt. But that also meant that Phantom shouldn't needlessly push her.

She heaved a sigh and shook her head, looking very disappointed. "If that is how you want to view things. Then I guess I have to hurt you too. And Batman, of course."

Ivy added the last part with a wink in his direction and Bruce's frown deepened as he raised his batarang and breathed out to steady himself, and then he stopped. He frowned as he took in the way his breath was misting in the air in front of his face. In the middle of July.

And now that he thought about it, he did notice that it was an unmistakable and sudden chill in the air. He hadn't noticed because of his thick armor and focus on Ivy, but it seemed like they might have another threat on their hands. He cast a quick glance around to try and spot the new variable in this increasingly unpromising equation, and that was when he noticed that Phantom had gone very still at his side.

Bruce risked a quick glance down to check on him, not wanting to take his eyes off the enemy but needed to check that their young member was okay. He didn't have time to babysit him right now, but he couldn't just look the other way if a kid was panicking right next to him. Especially a kid that Bruce had indirectly dragged into the situation himself and was partially responsible for. So he said, in a voice that was only slightly gruff, "You don't have to be scared. I'll protect you."

It came out less reassuring and more annoyed than he had been aiming for, but hey, at least it was something. Bruce privately thought he was getting better at this whole comforting people business, but then Phantom shook his head. "I'm not scared."

Bruce opened his mouth to say that it was okay to be scared, that he knew Phantom wasn't used to fighting real battles against strong enemies, but before he could say anything Phantom spoke again, and this time it was with an echo and a snarl and loud enough that Ivy would be able to hear, "I'm angry."

That… was not what Bruce was expecting him to say. "What?"

All thoughts that the sudden drop in temperature could be caused by a natural occurrence flew out the window as Phantom's stillness seemed to spread—both through the ghost himself and through the environment around them—and goosebumps broke out all over Bruce's body as the temperature dropped even further. It came from Phantom.

This was unlike anything Bruce had seen from him before and he hated to admit it, but it was an unknown, something he hadn't taken into account, and he decidedly did not like it. So he turned to his companion and asked, "Phantom?"

But Phantom didn't have time to answer before Ivy spoke up, "Well, if you won't listen there's only one way to make sure this all ends…" She raised her hands and with them, all the vines surrounding her rose up too. "I have to take control of everyone's minds and make them respect nature!"

Bruce cursed under his breath as a cloud of spores erupted from the flowers around her, immediately starting to disperse in the wind as it carried the cloud deeper into the city, and thankfully away from him and Phantom.

Bruce threw his batarang at the closest wine, not waiting to see it connect before throwing three more in quick succession.

"What is it with you plant-people and mind control?!" Phantom growled out from next to him, and his voice was no longer anywhere close to human.

A shudder traveled down Bruce's spine and he couldn't tell if it was due to the sound of Phantom's voice or the sudden and steep drop in temperature, making the surroundings, impossibly, even colder.

He could already feel numbness spreading through his fingers and toes as he started shivering as a chill settled in, deep in his bones and much too fast to be natural. Bruce threw another batarang and watched as it missed its mark.

"Phantom!" Bruce barked out as he looked to his teammate and the blooming frost that branched out from where he floated, looking like deceptively beautiful and delicate latticework.

"Aww, what a pretty ice-show," Ivy cooed with a laugh. "Let me take Batman here out of the picture and we can talk. Just the two of us."

A vine shot out towards Bruce and he cursed himself from getting distracted. The cold surrounding him made him slow enough that he wouldn't be able to duck in time, he just had to trust that his armor would protect–

Or not.

The vine suddenly stopped in mid-air, overtaken by ice.

Phantom rounded on Ivy. "How dare you threaten my friend?!"

By now, the air was cold enough to hurt going in and Bruce had to struggle not to gasp as his shivering turned into painful shaking. It was cold and it was all his brain could focus on. Cold cold cold cold—

Bruce managed to convince his legs to move enough to take a couple of stumbling steps away from Phantom, hating that the action wasn't a conscious decision, and hating eve more that it left Phantom's side vulnerable. But his colleague didn't seem to mind, instead it was Ivy who looked suddenly exposed and unsure.

And Bruce couldn't blame her, and he definitely couldn't fight like this; while having to keep an eye on his ally at the same time. He needed his head clear, and to do that, he needed Phantom to calm down and stop whatever it was he was doing. Preferably now.

"Phantom. Calm down," Bruce tried again through chattering teeth, "You have to stop this."

But Phantom didn't seem to hear him, or if he did he ignored him, as he kept addressing a wide-eyed Ivy. "You have nothing on Undergrowth, and I won't allow you to destroy the city. It takes ages to restore the damages caused by the roots."

At the end of the sentence, Phantom's eyes blazed blue and Bruce realized that he couldn't remember a time in his life where he had ever been this cold. But wait… Maybe he wasn't cold? Bruce realized that he almost felt warm on top of alarmingly tired. Bruce blinked. That… was a bad sign, wasn't it?

When he blinked again he got distracted by the sight of his own eyelashes laden with frost, and then, again, by the sight of all the plants surrounding them suddenly freezing in place. Bruce watched in horrified fascination as a second later, they all turned brittle and hard before crumbling to pieces, and he realized—to his horror—that despite how cold he felt, Phantom was somehow protecting him from the worst of it.

His aching eyes landed on Phantom where he floated perfectly unaffected by everything going on around them, and even Bruce's struggling brain managed to come to the conclusion that he might have severely misjudged Phantom's skill set and what he was capable of.

It hadn't been Phantom's safety he should have been worried about

Ivy seemed to share his conclusions as she didn't waste any more time before turning and beginning to stumble away.

Which proved to be a mistake as it prompted Phantom to move, and with him all the pressure, all the focus of the sudden all-encompassing cold moved as well. Like an avalanche rolling down the street, unstoppable and terrifying.

Ivy stopped, frozen to the spot as he approached, wide eyes fixed on Phantom's form, and Bruce couldn't tell if that was because she was actually frozen to the ground, or if she was simply frozen in fear.

And then it was as if Phantom shed the burden of all that heavy power, and in an instant the slow inevitability of his movements switched to swiftness and Phantom faster than Bruce could follow, faster than he had ever seen him move before, and in the blink of an eye he was in front of Ivy and with his hands raised towards her—his expression was completely blank and deathly cold as his normally lively eyes held nothing but ice.

Bruce felt a sudden dread twist his gut.

What if he was about to kill her? He couldn't allow that. Not while he was there—he couldn't just stand by as the League's youngest member become a murderer. A voice in his head whispered that he apparently knew nothing about his team member and that Phantom might very well already be one.

How he managed to get his aching throat to produce words was beyond him, but he did manage to croak out, "Phantom, stop!"

And—this time—thankfully, Phantom did.

He tilted his head in Bruce's direction with a questioning look in his eyes. "Shouldn't I capture her?"

Capture her. Of course. The relief he felt at that barely registered beneath the mind-numbing cold and even if he wanted to, he couldn't give an answer as his shivering lips and hacking teeth refused to form any more words. Instead, he settled for gesturing with a shaking hand around them and to his throat, hoping that Phantom would catch on to what he meant.

Phantom frowned in confusion for a second before his eyes widened with sudden realization. "Oh, right. Sorry. Wait a second."

And, just like that, warmth started to spread across the street and across Bruce himself and he could feel a painful tingling starting up in his fingers as they came back to life.

The next breath he took almost burned on the way down as his frozen throat thawed.

Phantom looked the same as ever, as if controlling the very climate of a whole street was nothing to him, as if commanding the power of a tundra, an ice storm, was nothing to him.

Maybe it wasn't.

Ivy sank to her knees and Bruce would have followed her if he hadn't managed to lock his knees at the very last second, a skill honed after countless times of staying on his feet for far longer than he really should have.

Bruce forced his throat and mouth to work. "Don't hurt her."

Instead of answering him, Phantom turned to Ivy and asked, "Will they be okay? The people you mind controlled?"

She nodded. "Yes. It will wear out in an hour and they will be unharmed. I won't ask them to do anything. Please, you have to believe me, I just wanted to help—"

She stopped speaking abruptly when a Phantom moved, and Bruce had a second to tense up before he saw that Phantom simply crossed his arms and nodded as he said, "Alright."

And it felt like a judgment.

Bruce let out a slightly unsteady breath. He had thought he had become used to powerful beings, what with aliens, literal superheroes, and living legends being on his team, but this was foreign in a way not even the aliens they had encountered were. This was foreign to life itself.

After Bruce was able to move again, they made short work of capturing Ivy and sending her back to Arkham. For once, she didn't argue or try any tricks to get away, her eyes stayed locked on Phantom the whole time until she was taken away.

When it was only the two of them left, together with a couple of small and inconspicuous puddles that was all there was left of all the frost and ice, as well as quite a lot of destroyed plant matter, Bruce turned to face his teammate.

And all of a sudden, he started to doubt what had transpired; his brain having trouble connecting what had just happened with the innocent looking boy in front of him. But the street around them as well as his own shaking body spoke of the truth. That it had really happened.

Besides, the whole street as far as he could see bore traces of the melted ice and the crumbled plants. He felt himself hesitate for a split second at the implications of that—at the sheer size of whatever power Phantom had unleashed so casually and at the potential danger that it posed.

But then Bruce looked back at Phantom's face and the way he was keeping his earnest attention on Bruce—waiting for what he was about to say; waiting for his judgment—and felt himself relax.

Phantom had never done anything since he'd met him to earn his distrust and to his surprise, Bruce found that he didn't want to ruin that. His children had told him that he was too paranoid for his own good and maybe this was the time to start working on changing that; to prove them wrong.

Bruce fixed Phantom with what he hoped was a stern look and said, "Let's go debrief."

Phantom at least had the sense to look faintly ashamed. "Are you sure? Shouldn't we—"

"Watchtower. Now."

This time, Phantom followed him without further debate, and Bruce breathed out a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure that he would be able to force Phantom to come if he didn't want to.

As soon as they arrived at the Watchtower, Bruce led Phantom to an empty meeting room and closed the door before anyone could stop them to talk. He was grateful for the effectiveness of his glare in keeping people away.

Bruce placed his hands on the table and fixed Phantom with a stern glare. "We need to have a serious talk about following orders. As well as withholding important information."

Phantom grimaced. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so angry. I just… Hated that she threatened you. I couldn't just—"

Bruce cut him off with a stern, "I can take care of myself." He couldn't have a young boy risk himself in a misguided attempt to protect him. "But I need you to listen to what I say in the field."

Phantom looked like he wanted to argue for a second, before he deflated. "Yeah, sure. I'm sorry."

Bruce had sons of his own; he could tell Phantom didn't mean it, so he raised an eyebrow and stared him down in silence until the boy broke.

"Okay, fine! I'm not sorry! I could help in that situation and to stand back and do nothing wouldn't have helped anyone!"

And that was a good segue way into the other topic Bruce wanted to discuss. "Why haven't you used those powers before?"

Phantom hesitated. "I was scared of hurting you guys. We've only really been on missions in small spaces and my skill set isn't really made for that." Then he paused with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well, except for the invisibility and intangibility and stuff, but that's just basic powers, you know? Every ghost can do that."

Bruce had thought that was his only skill set.

He mentally tried to re-categorize everything he knew about his teammate, and started on making new contingency plans.

Phantom took a deep breath. "I normally try to hold back a bit. I know humans aren't really as durable as ghosts and I don't want to hurt anyone more than I have to, I don't want to destr–"

Phantom cut himself off, a pained expression flashed across his face, but it was gone before Bruce could get a good read on it.

And that was part of the problem, wasn't it? He didn't know enough about Phantom to know what to expect, not really.

He had been blindsided by Phantom's apparent youth and humor, how willing he was to cooperate, and how happy he always was to interact with the other members of the league. But Bruce knew, better than most, that appearances could be deceiving.

He should have dug deeper.

He had just assumed that there wasn't anything more to dig up on a dead child. That had been a faulty conclusion. He was getting weak. Lenient.

Well, he could start to work on fixing that now.

So Bruce crossed his arms and fixed Phantom with what he hoped to be a stern stare. "Why didn't you tell us you had powers like that?"

"I promise I didn't mean to keep it from you guys! It's just… I forget."

Bruce raised an eyebrow in question. Forgot what? He wanted to see where Phantom went with this. Thankfully, Phantom seemed to take the hint and elaborated, "My powers."

Okay, Bruce took it back. That didn't really clear anything up.

After a few silent seconds in which Phantom didn't seem to think he needed to explain further, Bruce caved and asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean I forget what my powers are sometimes. Or at least some of them."

"…What?"

Was Phantom messing with him? He couldn't seriously mean that he didn't know his own powers?

"Yeah… I know it's bad."

Bruce blinked. Or… He was serious. "How can you not know what your own powers are?"

"It's not my fault I get new ones all the time! I mean, of course I know about the ones I use on the regular, but the others… I get new ones so often it's hard to keep track!"

Well wasn't that a terrifying admission? Bruce almost didn't want to ask, "How many do you have?"

Phantom paused with a thoughtful expression on his face. Bruce wanted to cut in that it was a fairly straightforward question.

Then Phantom groaned and threw his hands in the air as he exclaimed, "Well that's the problem, isn't it?! I'm not sure!"

He couldn't really be serious, could he…?

Bruce looked into Phantom's eyes that were once again back to their familiar green color, and found only honesty there. Well, honesty and a fair share of annoyance and resignation.

What was he meant to say to that? He got new powers just like that? Was that typical for ghosts?

…How was he supposed to keep a detailed list of his teammate's powers if Phantom himself didn't even have the information and if it changed all the time?

Phantom seemed to take Bruce's silence as disapproval, which wasn't completely wrong, as he raised his hands defensively in front of him and plowed on, "I didn't know that was, like, a requirement for you guys! There's nothing I can really do about it."

"What about making sure you know your current powers before going into dangerous situations, at the very least?" Bruce barely recognized his own voice, he sounded so exasperated.

Phantom looked at him as if his statement was in any way shape or form an intelligent and revolutionary one. "That might actually be a good idea. I can try to write a list down if you want?"

"I can help you compose the list." The words were out of his mouth before he had made the conscious decision to say them and Bruce cursed himself as soon as he let them slip. His teammate might get the wrong idea that he wanted to help him out of the goodness of his heart, but it was simply to keep a closer eye on Phantom and learn his strengths and weaknesses. Of course. Nothing else.

Phantom stared at him in silence for long enough that even Bruce started to second-guess himself, before he broke the quiet with a barely audible but clearly awed, "You would do that? For me?"

Bruce cleared his throat. "It would be bad to not know your powers. It makes you a liability and a danger in the field."

"Aww, you care about me!"

"Of course I—" Bruce cut himself off. He would not admit to something like, especially not for a colleague of all things. And of course he didn't. He just needed good intel to make sure a repeat of today never happened again. What if next time Phantom got hurt or—

No. What if next time, Phantom compromised the mission. That was what he cared about. Only that.

Phantom's green eyes suddenly shone with tears and Bruce stood up straighter. Please, Bruce begged silently, please don't start crying. He hated it when his kids cried. Not that Phantom was one of them. Of course not.

But then a wide grin slowly spread across Phantom's face, stretching his mouth wide and squinting his shining eyes into mirthful crescents. The innocent picture was slightly ruined by his fangs peeking out from between his lips. "I care about you too!"

Those words shouldn't have almost made Bruce smile back, but he forcibly reminded himself to focus on his faulty assumptions and on the risks this whole thing posed instead of the warmth spreading through his chest. And Bruce could admit to when he had been wrong, despite what his sons said, but it had been a long time since he had been this wrong about something or someone. He didn't like the feeling, and he would make absolutely sure it didn't happen again. And that no one found out that it had happened.

He shook his head, forced the small smile off his face and said, "Prepare a list of all the powers you do know about until tomorrow."

Phantom sloppily saluted him with a grin. "Yes, sir!"

Bruce scowled harder, but it only made Phantom's grin widen. He needed to make sure Phantom knew the importance of this.

"And next time I tell you to do something, you do it," Bruce growled out.

Phantom nodded, still grinning. "If it's not too stupid."

Bruce could recognize when he had lost an argument and decided to take what he could get.

The next day Bruce found a note on his desk at the Watchtower with a long list of increasingly absurd powers in a very scratchy handwriting covering both the front and back and covered his face with his hands as he groaned.

They had a long way ahead of them.

#dp #danny phantom #dp x dc #dp fic #danny phantom fic #phic #i'm sick and i'm tired and that means i'm back on my bullshit #have some more op danny #just confusing bruce with his usual shit #i hope you enjoy!#my writing

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st4rfckerz · 2 months

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Imagining the soulmates trope with ani BUT we include his turning to the dark side :(((

Since the AOTC era, you were inseparable. You always had a feeling that he was your soulmate, but since he was a Jedi, you ignored it. Forbidden love is barely love. Love without representation barely exists.

The yearning chased both of you like a hound to its prey, and it became too much for your mortal hearts to bear. You both knew that your souls were interlinked, and Anakin knew that was not something to push away. Many people don’t even find their soulmates, let alone have them so close but never touching. Never fulfilling.

Time passes, and that’s when he begins yearning for something more than the life he lives. Being so constricted, trapped in the confines of the Jedi code that he cannot even love his soulmate openly. His only hope is the dark side. And that tie you have to him telling you deep down, knowing what was going to happen but not being able to confront it. Waiting for the bomb to explode.

Begging for him to stay, trying so desperately to convince him that your lives can be better without the dark side, trying to grasp on to the little bit of Ani you can see behind his cold eyes. But it’s too late. He’s too far gone. He’s gone.

And afterwards, you feel that utter despair in the emptiness. The bed is empty, the rooms are empty, your heart is empty. Yearning for what you’ll never get back until it gets to severe that you’re whisked into a life of tears and basking in the memories of the man that you can barely remember the voice of. The memories of his touch being like a phantom limb, haunting your dreams and causing pain like no human should have to endure. Knowing that the invisible string has been broken, because now there is nobody on the other end.

He’s still alive, but he is dead.

-🪩

Back to yap just like I said!!! Period was supposed to come two days ago so I’m feeling like ruining lives ig

you’re tugging at my heartstrings GODDDDD

you just want your beautiful ani back. it bothered you that the person you loved the most was gone without really being gone. you noticed the drastic change in his demeanor almost immediately. the once sweet, kind, and loving man you once knew turned cold and bitter, and would sometimes snap at you unreasonably. of course the thought of how he was turning towards something he swore he would destroy kept you up at night.

the sleepless nights grew longer and colder and soon he was gone for good. you still heard whispers about him after you restricted yourself from seeing him again, but the stuffy, suffocating feeling in your chest never left, and it probably never will for as long as you live.

yayyy the yap sessions are back!!! i always love hearing what you’ve been conjuring up in that brain of yours. and speaking of periods, i literally started mine 5 minutes before i had to go to work and i’ve been cramping SO BAD like i literally almost had to leave work early because of it. but if we both end up on our periods at the same time i guess we have no other choice but to lay together and watch hayden’s bad movies 🙄 totally wouldn’t want that

#ani come home ☹️#anon 🪩#nai answers!#anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker blurb #st4rfckerz

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

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aita for waiting until after opening gifts to confront my grandmother?

my (25f) mum (50f) experienced a severe psychotic mental break last winter. i ended up living with her and my siblings (seven, all younger than me) for the better part of 2023 to help take care of the house and kids AND support my mum financially, and only moved back out into my own place in november along with my partner, my 19yo sister, and my sister’s gf.

during my mum’s breakdown, my maternal grandmother completely took my mother’s side against me even in the midst of her delusions, disagreed with me when i tried to get her into a more intensive therapy program, and generally refused to acknowledge my role as a caretaker for my mum AND my siblings. when i told her i was worried about my siblings mental health and well-being after watching this happen to my mum, she spun my words and then told my my mum that i thought she was a danger to her kids, something i never said. it hurt a lot and seriously damaged our relationship, and she never apologized to me for it.

now, the holidays have finally rolled around, much to my dread. i avoid celebrating family holidays as much as i can, since after a childhood full of trauma, i’m not fond of them. our little household have planned a small winter solstice celebration for the four of us and a few other siblings who can attend, and that’s basically enough holiday for me. but my grandmother wanted to hold an extended family dinner, and invited me and my partner specifically. i decided i’d go. i also knew she’d be getting both of us gifts, so i got her something in return.

the day before, however, i found out some really horrible information about other family members - without going into detail, it involved sexual abuse, and the abuser has been allowed to attend all of our family get togethers despite my grandmother knowing what he’d done. i was horrified, and i blame my grandmother for allowing him to attend functions where my young siblings will be. i’m not the best at handling conflict, so i froze up significantly and was not sure how to approach this. the abuser had already left the holiday dinner when i arrived, which is good, because i probably would’ve started a verbal-and-maybe-violent altercation with him. (it wouldn’t be the first time. again, i’m not the best at handling conflict. i’m in therapy about it.) instead, i was awkward and uncomfortable the whole dinner, and at the end of it when it was just me and my grandmother, i snapped at her. i think all the built up frustration ive had towards her since last year combined with this just exploded out, and i accused her of refusing to consider my siblings’ well-being our entire lives and prioritising her own kids instead, even when they’re the ones endangering us. she cried, i yelled that i would never be attending one of her family dinners again, and finally i stormed out and left with my partner.

after i got home, i had calmed down a bit and saw the gifts she’d gotten for me and my partner, and that’s the only time i’ve felt guilty about this. should i return the gifts she got me? was it wrong for me to wait until AFTER i’d opened our gifts to yell at her? maybe i shouldn’t have gone to the dinner at all.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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spatialwave · 8 months

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Hi dropping on to say I’m so thankful someone else is currently as captivated with Limoreau as I am but is a writer and creates sweet sweet content. I think you’re doing amazing at writing them, thank you so much.

Obsessed with Jordan and Marie always trying to protect the other, always looking at each other even when they were rivals. I like to think that at some point Jordan notices Marie protecting them and at first doesn’t get why and tries to make sure they’re protecting her and not the other way around. And then a cycle of this until they finally just ask her why she’s putting herself in danger for them and then they both turn into queer mush idk I love them 💖

you... are so sweet oh my god! i am so glad i can write them for you, it is a pleasure! 🩵 (warning: writing this little musing ficlet made me cry.)

protecting others was the reason why students wanted to major in crimefighting, or at least, that's what should have been the main reason. jordan li took that promise very seriously, and it showed when they had to fight luke. without any hesitation, then stepped between their friend and a girl they hardly knew - just to protect her.

that’s when jordan realized a pattern. maybe it was because either one of them hated the notion of owing each other a favour, regardless, the two of them seemed to be crazy protective of each other.

it was an unending cycle, jordan would protect marie, then marie would step in and protect jordan. it was weird, jordan couldn’t comprehend why she would want to step in like that.

the more jordan thought about it, the more it made them frustrated and angry. the last thing they ever wanted was for marie to get hurt because of them. they'd live with that regret and guilt forever.

it hurt especially when they got close, emotions rose and feelings bloomed. that fear of marie getting hurt was beginning to swallow them whole, and it was a complicated feeling. marie was her own person, she was strong... jordan didn't want to bring it up and come across like they didn't believe in her.

that just weren't used to someone wanting to protect them, too.

it wasn’t until after they got their memories back — when jordan remembered the fight with sam, where jordan had put themselves between marie and sam only after she jumped head first into battle. oh, how it rattled them. how could she have been so careless? to jump in without even as much of a plan?

it was eating them away when they returned to godolkin later that night. they had spent several hours sitting on their bed wondering how they were going to approach this without making it seem like marie was incapable, but they couldn’t take it anymore.

the confrontation started with jordan knocking on marie’s door with a heavy fist, five knocks for good measure. marie opened the door and her eyes widened, a smile spreading on her lips, “hey-“

“why are you so frustrating?” jordan questioned immediately, pushing past marie into her room. much like the time of their first kiss.

she was taken back, blinking a few times as if she was having deja vu.

“excuse me?” she asked, already offended by their verbal attack, “what did i do?”

jordan turned around, tucking back a few loose curls behind their ear as they looked at marie, “you… you’re always getting in the way! every fight you’re always running in head first and trying to protect me. why?”

“what?” marie shut the door, walking a bit closer to jordan with a confused look on her face, “you’re mad at me because i’m… helping you?”

this is exactly the energy that jordan was avoiding, but they didn’t exactly do a good job at positive communicating. they sighed as they ran a hand down their face, trying to take a moment to relax before they continued to run their mouth off like a maniac.

“look,” they started, taking a step forward and looking deep into marie’s eyes, “i’ve just- i’ve never had someone like you in my life before, alright? i don’t want to see you get hurt.”

those words made marie’s heart skip a beat, but she was hesitant to let it go, “i can take care of myself.”

“that’s not what i’m insinuating.”

“then explain it better. use your words better.” marie stood her ground, arms over her chest as she watched jordan with thinned eyes.

it sent a shiver down jordan’s spine. she was right.

a few moments of silence passed before jordan parted their lips, “i’m scared you’re going to get hurt because of me. when you put yourself in danger like that it fucking sucks, okay? i hate feeling like i’m the reason you’re going to get yourself caught up in something stupid just to protect me.” the words came out of their mouth easier than expected, their breath quickening and heart rate sky rocketing. their eyes shook with vulnerability as they stared at marie.

tears had began to well up.

“oh, fuck,” marie murmured as she saw the pain in jordan’s eyes, walking close to them and wrapping her arms around their shoulders tight, “i didn’t know.”

an awkward laugh bubbled up as a tear rolled down jordan’s cheek, “yeah, well, obviously i’m shit at communicating,” they said as their arms gently wrapped around marie’s waist, fingers curling into the fabric of her red hoodie.

she pulled back slightly so she could look at jordan, moving one of her hands to wipe away the tear that rolled down their cheek.

“i can’t promise that i won’t get hurt,” she spoke softly, the most gentle smile forming on her lips, “but i’m not going to stop. i care about you, jordan. i care about you so much that i would rather get hurt if it meant you didn’t. that’s what you did for me with luke… and i didn’t appreciate it until it was too late.”

jordan couldn’t speak, their eyes filling with more tears that dared to spill. they could only listen to marie, hearing those words that soothed their angry heart.

“i’m making it up to you.”

#limoreau #jordan li x marie moreau #jordan li #marie moreau #gen v #this one hurt my heart lol #wordsbyspatial #spatialanswers

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mizukagami-takamagahara · 24 days

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Annon-Guy: What are your thoughts on Rachel Alucard and Mei Amanohokosaka as characters?

I'm asking because Tsundere type characters being devisive, with Harsh Tsunderes being hated for being "abusive" girls that deserve to die for attacking physically and/or verbally.(whether they're in love or not)

It's apparent that we Western Fans (no offense to you) don't view them the way Japanese Fans do.

It is interesting how widely JP and Western tastes differ! I have a buddy who is really into studying fandom culture, and we’ve talked about the wildly different reactions to tsundere between the cultures! I wonder if I should call her in sometime to discuss why that is…

Anyways, personally I have no problem with the archetype. Sometimes they can annoy me, especially if they feel ‘forced’ into their archetype; if the character seems mean for “absolutely no reason,” to the point where it breaks my immersion, then I tend to dislike them.

I’ve never had this issue with BlazBlue, though. I really, really like BlazBlue’s character writing. I’d still say that if I ever met these girls in real life, I probably wouldn’t want to go drinking with them… but as characters in their stories, and as believable products of their environments, I adore them!!

- - - - RACHEL = ALUCARD

Rachel is SUCH a tragic fucking character. You can like or dislike how she’s coping with it, but if you engage with her character on any meaningful level, you have to acknowledge that her cruel, jaded behavior is a believable response to the situation she’s in. It’s not nice, it’s not pretty- neither is the life she’s trapped in. In what world has trauma or helplessness ever made us prettier, cleaner people?

She’s cold, distant, unempathetic- because if she lets herself remember how much she cares, the weight of it all might break her. She’s incredibly sensitive under that cold porcelain shell; she snaps into aggression very quickly when under pressure. Specifically when confronted things that she hasn’t been able to distance herself from, things she cares too much about to feign distant superiority.

- - - - MEI = AMANOHOKOSAKA

Powerlessness is something of a through-line among the tsundere characters in BB. Mei is also a character struggling with powerlessness, pain, and fear; and she responds to her situation n a lot of the same ways Rachel does.

To avoid feeling weak or trapped, she falls back on her lineage, seeking escape in her sense of pride. She’d rather tell everyone (including herself) that she’s separate and above everything around her. The alternative would require her to face the horrible truth that if she did try to seek comfort or companionship under her employment (servitude, extortion, etc.) to Unomaru, she would be denied it.

Her fear turns to aggression when backed into a corner, when her mask of aloof superiority can no longer protect her. In these cases, she can be explosively emotional; which isn’t at all surprising, considering how much she’s bottling up all the time.

Thinking about it a little, Rachel and Mei share a few more parallels, don’t they??? They both get very quiet when they let down their walls, reflecting the exhaustion they suffer from. They’re both in a uniquely knowledgeable position, with access to information about the world that most people don’t have, which further serves to alienate them- and creates this sort of “being the world’s protector” feeling I’d argue they both express.

They both lost their parents incredibly young, inheriting positions of nobility, leadership, and responsibility they were certainly not prepared for. They both keep going in the hope that a specific man in their lives will one day be able to have a future.

Their designs share several elements too. A delicate, doll-like feel to their features. Long straight hair that veils them from the world (despite Rachel tying hers up) and, in JP media, often symbolizes spiritualism and divinity. They both wear lolita fashion, with many layers that could also be argued to ‘shield’ them from the rest of the world, providing a form of mental armor and obscuring how small and fragile they are under it all.

I doubt these similarities are coincidence.

#mei amanohokosaka #rachel alucard #blazblue #xblaze #bb meta #ao no kokagami

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secretsandpurplethoughtss · 1 month

Text

Candy's / Ysaline's Backstory

I decided to write a story based on what we already know about our Candy in MCL New Gen. I obviously took some creative liberties and I am imaginaing this to be my Candy's story, but I hope you guys like it. As the game goes on I might turn this into a full on fanfic! :)

Enjoy:

I studied journalism at university, because writing is truly my passion and I’ve always wanted to become a writer, a journalist. Following said dream, I moved to Spokane after graduation to work at my dream company as a “Staff Writer and Analytical Assistant”. EPMC had its headquarters in Los Angeles, but they were a huge company and so they had a couple of offices around the U.S. I always thought that EPMC seemed fun and lively, but I realized on my first day already that it was all just an appearance to please the readers, the content consumers, its customers. The company was cold, and it was extremely competitive – something I wouldn’t necessarily mind normally, but I was raised to believe that competitions should be fair and honest. At EPMC, backstabbing and sabotage was not just allowed but encouraged.

The only person I trusted at the company was my boss. It felt like we pretty much had the same values and he always voiced to me how “he hated the atmosphere in the office” and how “barbaric these competitions were”. Because I felt lonely and most of my days were filled with fights with colleagues I couldn’t stand, I was a more than frequent visitor in my boss’ office. We’ve became friends and soon… more. I should have known that dating my boss would bite me in the ass, but he seemed like such a great guy, and I was so lonely and desperate for kindness and companionship. Not to mention that I upkept the “happy façade” to my friends and family, because I didn’t want them to worry about me. My boss, my boyfriend was the only person I could confide in. My colleagues soon caught onto the fact that we were dating, but I didn’t really care about them gossiping about me. Even before my boss and I got together they would gossip and try to make me feel bad just for existing in the same space as them, so… it didn’t really matter. I was happy with him; at the time he might have been my only source of happiness.

That and my weekends where I ventured out into the city to explore it – museums, coffee shops, hikes. I liked the city: Spokane was breathtaking.

Things started to go even more downhill one day however, when I was in the office of my boyfriend waiting for him to return from a meeting. We were scheduled to discuss the analytics of the EPMC website, but his meeting was running late. He left his phone on his desk, and it kept buzzing, buzzing, and buzzing. It was unusual for him to forget about his phone and although he did get a lot of texts – the company didn’t provide us with separate work phones, so his phone was always going off, my mind went to darker places. What if his phone wasn’t buzzing itself practically off the table because a lot of people emailed him, but because there was an emergency? What if something happened with his family?

I was an overthinker and so my panicked thoughts led me to picking up his phone. I couldn’t see the texts he was receiving since they only showed themselves through face ID, but I could see the name of the person who sent them – “my love”.

My heart skipped several beats, before I put the phone back on the table. Could “my love” be anyone else besides a lover? No… he was cheating on me.

Soon, after I came to the shocking realization that he was unfaithful, he came back to his office, and he acted like everything was normal. Like he wasn’t a cheater. He gave me a kiss on my cheek and started apologizing for being late, cracking jokes and laughing at them.

I knew I needed to confront him, but I questioned myself – what if I was somehow wrong? What if he wasn’t cheating? I went on, telling him about the analytics and at the end of my presentation he commented on my “strange behavior”. I just lied about having a headache and left his office shortly after. At my cubicle I was bombarded with mean comments by my colleagues (as always), telling me how “I was sleeping my way to the top”. Usually, I didn’t give any attention to these comments, but that day I did. And then someone called me “a dirty mistress”.

“I’m a mistress?”, I asked the colleague that called me that word with genuine confusion. “Why would I be a mistress?”

“Are you really that stupid?”, he lifted an eyebrow.

I truly didn’t know what he was getting at.

“Wait, NO! DON’T TELL ME! HAHAHAHA!”, he started laughing and kept calling attention to himself. “She doesn’t know guys! She really doesn’t know!”

Other people caught on and started laughing with him and kept giving me certain looks. Their behavior always reminded me of high school or those nightmares where I was naked and people pointed at me, all while also ridiculing me.

“What are you talking about?” Anger was boiling inside me, but I knew that giving them what they wanted, an angry reaction, wouldn’t benefit me at all. Plus, then they’d win.

“He is married! You’re his mistress, his side peace. He doesn’t wear his ring at work but come on! Did you really not know?”, the guy finally explained with tears in his eyes from laughter.

My entire world shattered in that moment. They were liars, they were jealous, they were competitive assholes, but I knew they were telling the truth just for once. It would explain why I never stayed at my boyfriend’s place after all these months (he said that they were doing construction at his place and that he was currently staying at some hotel), why he had someone in his phone under the name of “my love” and why I barely met anyone from his private life. He wasn’t really unfaithful to me; he was truly unfaithful to his wife. I was the other woman, not the woman in his phone named “my love”.

All the frustration inside me just broke loose – I hated my job; I hated my colleagues, and I hated my boyfriend for being a lying, cheating bastard. I got up from my desk and marched straight into his office, determined to break up with him, to let everything out. He was on the phone, but when our eyes met, he quickly ended the conversation. I closed the door behind me – quiet forcefully – and started chewing him out.

Normally, I wouldn’t let myself get so off the rails, as I always tried to rail in my negative emotions, to have some kind of control over myself, but I’ve been through hell ever since I walked inside EPMC building on my first day of work. He was the only one I trusted, the only one who made me happy in Spokane and he wasn’t even the person I thought he was. I quit right then and there and packed up my desk on the same day. I threw every gift, every memory of him and I in the trash, when I got home and called my mother, telling her, crying to her about the whole thing.

“Come home, baby. Just come home! We’ll work this out, I promise!”

So, I did. After that phone call, I put on some music and packed all my things. I started to re-assemble all my furniture, despite my inability to be handy. I blocked all my previous colleagues’ and my ex’s phone number, and I booked a ticket to Seattle for the next day. I was exhausted and I was in pain – all I needed was my mom and my sometimes-annoying little sister.

Seven hours later, my apartment looked just like the way it did when I moved in almost a year ago. My entire life was in boxes and in a couple of hours, movers would come around to get all my things. Almost all my furniture would go to a storage unit, and I’ll sell them on Facebook Marketplace as cheap and as soon as possible – I didn’t want to own the things he touched, where memories with him and his bittersweet-lies would always hunt me.

This new chapter of my life closed too soon. Not even an entire year did I live in this apartment, in Spokane and worked at EPMC. This was not at all how I imagined it to go: I was mentally drained and heartbroken. My dreams shattered and now I was left with anger and embarrassment. Despite all of this I tried my best to look at the bright side of things. I missed mom, I missed Tasha, Taki and I missed Seattle, so going home would be good. I would start therapy again – My God, I so was desperate to message my therapist this entire time, but because I moved and felt confident in myself, I broke it off with her before I moved to Spokane. So maybe, when I focused on all these things this will be good – I’d find a good place to work, would spend some desperately needed time with my family (maybe even dad).

A new start. A fresh start. Truly, what are your twenties for if not that, right?

With a sad and somewhat forced smile on my face I closed the door of my apartment one last time.

I would focus on the positive from now on. It’ll all be okay… this is just a new chapter in my life.

I will welcome it with open arms.

#mcl new gen #mcl #my candy love #corazon de melon #amour sucre #beemoov #candy #ysaline #new genesis #amor doce #backstory #original story #fanfiction

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knockyasocksoff2022 · 1 month

Text

May I Love You - RANPOE Oneshot

FT: Yosano, Dazai, Kenji & Fukuzawa

This is my first time writting anything not an AU for ranpoe, and only my second time in total writting them. Also This is my first time writting Yosano & Dazai interactions in depth, I really like their dynamic and I hope to write more of them.

This is differnet from my usual stuff, it focus less on ranpoe and more on the ADA dynamic, which I love writting.

Thanks to @autumnleaf1111 for reminding me to post this. It's been in my drafts since FOREVER.

Ranpo’s Perspective:

I deduced my boyfriend's– I mean rival’s intentions days and days ago but he’s been working on a new manuscript that I haven’t had time to confront him about it. Ordinarily, I would beat him to the punch but it’s fun watching him be all shy.

A scratching sound from behind me brings my attention back to the office. I’d know that sound anywhere. Karl. My best friend. It’s time.

I turn, and he drops the leather-bound volume in my lap. I start to reach in my pocket but he skitters away before I can give him a treat. How odd! He’s just as much a sweet tooth as I am, is Edgar mad that I haven’t mentioned his recent project? I’d assumed he’d wanted space to work on it.

I open the volume.

It’s blank.

There isn’t a trace of ink or indenting on any of the pages. This is getting more confusing by the second, which is distressing because confusion isn’t something I feel often. Then I spot it.

As soon as I see the note taped to the back, the situation becomes obvious. Ah, Edgar, you managed to stump me for a second! You really are my soulmate.

I start to get up but the amount of effort Edgar must have poured into this, given how shy he is, must have been immense. If he’s asking this of me I really should respect his work.

Already itching to see the book's author, I turn over the last page and read the carefully scrawled note. Edgar’s handwriting can appear at times somewhat messy, almost fevered when his mind is supplying him with ideas much faster than his hand can move. But this note has been written in delicate decadent script, the characters almost taking on the appearance of English cursive as they curve elegantly. He thought about this, most likely writing several drafts until it was perfect.

It reads:

“I’m sorry, I know I should be doing this in person, but I’d be far too embarrassed with all of your colleagues present. I suppose this is what I get for being too impatient to wait until your work hours end. And I’m sure by this point you’ve already deduced my intentions, however, I do wish to do this formally, so if you have any intention of accepting my offer, meet me outside.”

I’d been expecting this, I know I had but I can’t help the way my heartbeat accelerates, pounding in my chest, filling me with butterflies.

I almost knock over Kenji as I run out the door.

Yosano’s Perspective

I’ve never seen Ranpo run before.

Well, I have, but that was when we were about to be murdered. Other than dashing around when he accompanies one of us shopping, his pace is light and even, without a care in the world.

Now he sprints through the office, heading straight for the door. Last I checked there are no new murders he’s been asked to help with. Does he even know where he’s going?

I saw that Racoon, Kyle, I think its name is, drop off a manuscript from the Guild author that comes by often. Did something in the book upset Ranpo that much? And why didn’t Ranpo get sucked into the book after the first page?

I hope we don’t have to go look for him, especially since we’re down four people. Kunikida and Atsushi are out on a reconnaissance mission and it’s the Tanizakis’ day off.

I start down the stairs after him, he doesn’t even turn at my footsteps, and when I get almost out the door I see the raccoon again, and a sleek black car, an American company.

The author is here! I see. That means I should give them some privacy then. I giggle and creep as quietly as I can back up the stairs, so as not to disturb the two men.

Dazai is already standing at the window, looking out over the street below. I go to meet him, still smiling as I think of the detective and the author together.

Dazai looks over at me nodding to the boys below us. Even though they’re older than both Dazai and I, I can’t shake the feeling of watching two teenagers have their first love. Maybe it’s because they’re both so different from others of their age. Maybe it’s because both our pasts have aged Dazai and me so much beyond our physical years.

We’re silent as we watch them share an embrace and then a kiss.

I reach over to the desk and pull the manuscript from the table, a note falls out. My smile only grows as I read it. A love confession, or nearly. Ranpo has a boyfriend now.

Dazai sighs, turning away from the window, back still resting against the sill, looking back to the office. His gaze is fixed on me now, something like a smile on his lips. A smile different from the wide grins he usually flashes, it doesn’t look so painted on. A smile tainted by all he’s been through. Real but fleeting, never wide or bright enough because of a dark, twisted past. I don’t think he minds it, he should, but he doesn’t.

“That makes four of us with partners from opposing organisations” The chuckle that leaves his lips is a twisting hollow sound, not unlike his smile.

“Yeah” is all I can say, trying to ground myself in the calm moment. I force myself to think only of how happy Ranpo looks, the rosy blush dusting his cheeks. If I’m happy for him I can’t be sad for me.

Gentle footsteps echo, Kenji is at the window beside us. He stares at Ranpo and his new boyfriend.

“Wow! Ranpo-san looks so happy, good for him!’ Kenji cheers.

Dazai pats the farmer boy on the head and presses his pointer finger over his lips, shushing him. “How about we keep this between us? After all, this isn’t our secret to tell.”

Kenji’s eyes widen in realisation and he looks around just to make sure the office is empty as he nods, “Alright, of course, I won’t mention it. You have my word.”

“Thank you, Kenji-kun.” Dazai’s words are so quiet I almost can’t hear them and from there, silence creeps in, the comfortable kind, the happiness still like a blanket over me even after we turn away from the window.

The warmth of the feeling only dulls when something occurs to me.

“Wait, earlier you mentioned that there are four of us dating those from other organisations, who’s the fourth? Did Atsushi and Akutagawa finally get together?”

But that would still leave one couple?

“Nope!” The grin is back on Dazai’s face again.

I try to puzzle it out. There’s me and Kaji, Dazai and Chuuya, and now Ranpo and the Guild Author. Who’s the last couple?

Finally, I give up. “Then who?”

“Not my secret to tell either.”

I feel the cool steady pressure of someone's gaze on me. There’s only one person who could make you feel that just by looking at you, the only person I’ve ever met who has such an unshakably calm aura—the President.

I turn to greet him, but he’s already walking out.

“Oh, President, where are you going?” I ask because I’m a little embarrassed to be caught just staring out the window and doing nothing during working hours.

He offers a small smile, “Just out. You needn't bother yourself, return to what you were doing. I’ll be gone for the remainder of the day, but should you need me for anything you know where to contact me.”

I watch him go, he’s taking his bag with him. It’s rare for him to leave early, this must be important.

Yukichi’s Perspective

I shake my head as I head out the office door.

Yosano-kun and Dazai-kun have resumed their banter. I listen for a moment.

“Dazai, pleeease!” Yosano-kun drags out the words in hopes of breaking Dazai-kun’s steel resolve.

“Nope!” I can picture that clownish smile of his, so like the look someone I know gets when he’s about to pull something mischievous, only Dazai-kun wears it all the time. As if it was plastered onto his face or he put it on so many times he forgot to take it off or forgot how.

I continue down the stairs, and the last thing I hear is Yosano-kun’s scream: “You little shit!”

I know Dazai-kun won’t reveal the name of the fifth agency member dating someone from another organisation. He’s withstood far more gruesome torture with a smile on his face. Most of the time I can only hope he’ll relax into a life in the light. I wish he would accept that he is truly safe now, but now I’m grateful. If that name were to get out it wouldn't be good for anyone involved

Speaking of couples, I owe a certain surgeon money.

Oh, my Ranpo, my beloved son, why couldn’t you have waited another month to start dating Poe-san?

(A/N: Even Dazai doesn’t know about Tachizaki)

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd ranpoe #ranpoe #ranpoe relationship reveal #relationship reveal #akikaji #soukoku #fukumori #morizawa #sskk #skk #shin soukoku

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inkstainedhandswithrings · 4 months

Text

TBB s3 ep4 Thoughts!!!

Oooohh starting off strong

Omega immediately wanting to go back because “it’s right”

Crosshair wanting to keep moving, not because he’s scared of going back but because he understands that he can’t help anyone if he’s dead

Ah there he is. The bitch. The Hemcock.

I wanna say Nala Sa deserves to be in prison but idk I’m starting to feel for her

Pretty sure she won’t survive the season though

IM SORRY THAT SHOT WHERE THE COAT IS HANGING OVER THAT POWER LINE???

is that,,,, a reference to yanno,,, shoes hanging from a power line?

hahahahahahah poncho stormtroopers

“You’re the one who wanted to bring… the hound.”

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH

YOUR HONOUR I LOVE THEM

best duo this show has given us

If Hunter was the hesitant but willing dad, Crosshair is the exasperated older brother that was forced to bring his younger sister to the party he was invited to an now has to spent all night watching her

Ey not cool Omega. Someone was using that jacket to advertise their business

“See, isn’t this better?” “No.” “Ugh.”

HAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHHA

“I could take out half of them before they even know what happened” 😳😳

Yeah, I believe you sir

Damn fuck how many more clone crushes will I have to be burdened with

Jesus Christ

“That went well” “Stow it”

THEM

YOUR HONOUR

THEM!!!

Scottish Robot ahhahahahahaha

Say what you will about Crosshair, when that dude sat down across from Omega he was ready for a FIGHT

big ol’ softie <3

“You or your dad”

Glad Hunter wasn’t there to hear that

Or Crosshair for that matter

Both would’ve blown their cover

Tbh Crosshair makes a fair point about leaving while they can. The planet is filled with Empirials and they are running out of time

But he also hasn’t been part of a team in a while and maybe he’s forgotten some of what that entails too

Either way, loving how “selfless” and “selfish” are meeting in this ep

“I’ll do it your way BUT I WOULD LIKE THE RECORD TO REFECT THAT I DONT WIKE IT!”

Crosshair giving Omega a boost to get over the wall I’m crying

“Shouldn’t we free the other animals too?” “Don’t push it.”

HE IS MY SOULMATE (based on sarcasm. I am vegetarian and I would free those animal friendos in a heartbeat)

The extra head shake and eye roll at that question too, he is already so done I can’t hahahahahahahah

“I hope your take-offs are better than your landings” “we’re about to find out”

Aaaaaaand that just reminded me that Tech was the one who taught her to fly

🥲🥲🥲🥲

That fucking shriek when the stormtrooper got blasted by the engine hahahahahaha

Ohohoh altered batch theme after take off? Okayokayokay I see you👀

Jesus Christ, Crosshair trying to prepare Omega for the very real possibility that Hunter and Wrecker are dead?

Like I know it seems cruel and defeatist but it’s actually kind in a way

Managing expectations in order to save her from a worse fall out

FUCK I THOUGHT I’D HAVE TO WAIT TILL NEXT EPISODE FOR THEM REUNION

JESUS

AAAAAAHHHHH

“We crossed the galaxy four times looking for you”

SIR

I AM QUACKING

why did Hunter’s appearance suddenly piss me off

Like Wrecker had a cute line and Hunter had to walk up like

“Um, five actually”

Like idk it felt like he was taking over the moment (which makes sense because he’s her dad but still it just sounded awkward)

EXCUSE ME??? I BEG YOUR BIGGEST PARDON??

Omega just explained that she only got off that planet AND survived so far thanks to Crosshair and all they can do is look all bitchy butt-hurt

Like I expected this from Hunter but why isn’t Wrecker hugging him?

Bc they went looking for Cross before, I thought we were past the straight up hate?

Love how stoically Cross is taking it though

I have to admit, so far this is one of my all time favourites. The comedic timing, the very real story line, the confrontation of previously opposed characters? Wonderful. But the pièce de résistance? Crosshair’s character description rings true again. “Severe and unyielding” Tech had said. I’ve rambled about this a lot recently, but the boiled down version is that when Crosshair commits to something, he commits all the way. Like how he committed to the Empire so hard that he hunted down his brothers. Or when he finally decided the Empire was a bunch of shitbags and shot officer shitbag (I forget his name) in the face. He has now decided to commit to Omega, for whatever reason. And it shows. Because even when she tells him to go, he’s literally only a minute behind her. He lets her employ her own strategies despite his preference and experience. He’s ready to beat up Captain Dickhead (did they even give him a name?) for sitting down across from her. He tells her to get into the ship first while he lays down cover fire.

Crosshair’s next “severe and unyielding” decision is Omega’s safety. And I couldn’t be more excited to see where it goes!

AND I cannot believe how much I suddenly like his character. I was so disinterested in him for like s1 and maybe 90% of s2 but now I am more interested in what becomes of him than I am in what the deal is with Omega’s M-count.

I’m saying it now. These seasons hyper focuses are: Rex, Echo and Crosshair (in that order) (for now, we’ll see)

Thanks to everyone who sat through that, have a good day/night/whatever, friend!

#THIS EPISODE #HOOOOOO BOY #gah this was good #honestly made me so happy #I am hanging out with people all day today but if that wasn’t the case there probably would be a new chapter of when we bleed today as wel #but you can’t have everything I guess #star wars #the bad batch #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #sw tbb #tbb #tbb s3 #tbb s3 spoilers #tbb spoilers

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 6 months

Text

Sharon Salzberg

I’m mostly in denial that I’m about to turn 70 years old. I often find myself saying, “Let’s just not think about it. I’ll pretend it isn’t going to happen.”

But of course, as I contemplate my upcoming birthday with disbelief, I remember that I’ve spent all these years in a Buddhist tradition that encourages reflecting on your own death every day. So maybe it’s not something I should put off anymore!

When I do this reflection, I think about letting go. During the pandemic, I let go of many things: travel, seeing friends, and much more. And so I ponder what it would mean to let go of everything.

Of course, aging is a mixed bag. Wisdom, perspective, gratitude—so many things grow stronger as we get older. But there are also distressing, growing incapacities from one’s body; the fear of what a moment of forgetfulness might mean; the sheer indignity of being treated as unimportant by some; even the frustration of having to scroll down for a long, long, long time on some websites to get to the year of your birth (my personal pet peeve).

And then there is the painful fact, so relevant recently, that one’s body tends not to mount as strong an immune response to illness.

I do also feel the joy of aging. For example, I don’t feel ambitious. If someone asks me what I’d like my legacy to be, I think, “I’ve done it.” Hopefully I can still accomplish things and make things happen, but I don’t feel competitive. I don’t feel haunted by the folly of youth as I might have been at one time.

I once attended a retreat focused on aging led by the Tibetan master Tsoknyi Rinpoche. Although he was still a fairly young man at that point, Rinpoche had noticed that many of his students were confronting the challenges of growing older. One afternoon, someone in the retreat was waxing on about the tremendous joys and delights of growing older. Exhilarating insights, followed by a litany of pleasures, followed by impressive triumphs, all spoken faster and faster (“What is she running from?” I thought darkly), until Rinpoche interrupted her.

“Don’t just make a poem out of aging,” he said. “It can be really hard sometimes.”

He wasn’t encouraging cynicism or despair—more an invitation to see and openly acknowledge all aspects of our experience. We don’t want to deny the difficult, of course, but we also don’t need to be completely defined by it. Being enveloped in and defined by what’s difficult is relatively easy to do, so it takes some intentionality to recognize all aspects of our experience and remember the positive forces in our lives.

So how might that work in practice?

First, while the difficult parts of aging are unavoidable, we can try not to add to them. For example, I have seen, throughout my life, the tendency to rehearse some catastrophe and thereby live it several times. So I think the first question is always, “What are we adding onto a situation which is already hard enough?”

Not being able to do something I used to be able to do, or being in physical pain, or losing people we love – these are already very hard. But we often add more suffering onto them, like thinking it shouldn’t be this way, or feeling shame or fear. One possibility of mindfulness is to notice where we’re adding to the suffering that’s already there, and try not to fall so much into it.

Second, I learned an interesting form of lovingkindness meditation from Ananda Matteya, then an energetic, 94-year-old Sri Lankan monk visiting the Insight Meditation Society in 1993. He taught us what he described as his favorite meditation: combining loving-kindness meditation and a body scan. He would go through the body, part by part, wishing each part well: may my head be happy, may my eyes be happy, and so on through the whole body. Even “may my liver be happy!”

I’ve taught that meditation to people with injuries, scars, diseases, difficult diagnoses, and all kinds of things, and it makes a difference. It can help counteract our tendency to add bits of shame or resentment, even subconsciously, to whatever is already there.

Finally, there’s the perspective of wisdom.

I first met Joseph Goldstein at my first meditation retreat, in India, in January, 1971. Just before lunch, I was in a madly frustrated state, because I couldn’t keep my attention on the breath. I said to myself, “If your mind wanders one more time, you should just bang your head against the wall!”

Fortunately, the lunch bell rang just then, saving me from that fate. This retreat was not silent, so waiting in line for lunch, there was a conversation going on between two people behind me. One asked, “How was your morning?” And the other replied, “I couldn’t concentrate at all, but maybe this afternoon will be better.”

He was so casual about it that I was horrified. I thought “This guy doesn’t understand how extraordinary these teachings are – he’s being so glib!”

Of course, ‘this guy’ was Joseph Goldstein. The difference, of course, was that I had been meditating for four days, while he had been meditating for four years and had a kind of perspective on change, on the inevitable ups and downs of meditation, that I was nowhere near having.

Now I feel that way about life in general. Things change, there are ups and downs, and with practice, we can learn to let go, again and again.

#Sharon Salzberg #Buddhist #aging #quotes #teaching #meditation #wisdom #age #contemplation

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ejzah · 2 months

Note

Can you please write a fanfic about Kensi and the Team spotting Deeks supposedly on a date and confront him, only to realize they just screwed up an LAPD undercover op and gets Deeks in big time. Obliviously can it be set back when it was still with the LAPD and before he and Kensi got together.

A/N: Hi anon, I’ve written similar stories to this before, but never with them completely ruining his cover. Sorry for the delay!

***

Critical Error

“Oh my god, I shouldn’t have eaten that last chicken wing,” Kensi groaned, rubbing her stomach as she exited a bar with Sam and Callen. It was a new place they decided to try since one of their usuals was closed for repairs and the other had no empty tables.

“Yeah, it was definitely that and not the five fried mozzarella sticks and nachos you had before the wings,” Callen commented wryly. Kensi paused long enough to glare at him.

They walked slowly, casually continuing a conversation from the bar. Sam and Michelle were trying to plan a birthday party for her mom. It was proving difficult since she never wanted presents and disliked most people’s cooking outside her own.

“Maybe you can gift her a mini vacation instead,” Kensi suggested.

“And hear all about how rude the staff was and the quality of food? No thanks.”

“Well, if she doesn’t want anything, maybe just don’t do anything. Like with Hetty,” Callen said, and Sam made an unimpressed sound.

“That’s less helpful than your suggestion that I buy her tickets to an amusement park.”

“Hey, it’s like you don’t want our advice,” Callen told him facetiously.

Kensi grinned, imagining which inventive suggestions Deeks would have if he’d joined them. At least one would probably involve an offer for a deal on a strip club. Courtesy of his many friends in the business.

“Hey, isn’t Deeks supposed to be on some big undercover assignment?” Sam asked, drawing Kensi out of her musings. She stopped alongside him, realizing they’d reached the slightly finer dining section of the street.

“Yeah, it involves a mob-like gang,” she answered. “He said LAPD spent a couple months putting the operation into place. Why?”

“Well, his important undercover work looks a whole lot like a date.” Sam nodded to a small cafe with outdoor seating off the side of the main structure. There were several people around the handful of tables, at the far corner, were Deeks and a blonde haired woman.

“He told me he’d be busy for weeks,” Kensi murmured, almost to herself. Lies aside, she couldn’t quite articulate why it bothered her so much. Maybe it was the fact that Deeks had apparently brushed them—her—off for some unknown woman.

“Well, let’s go say hello,” Callen suggested.

“What? No, let’s just leave,” Kensi protested. She knew Deeks dated, but didn’t need to see direct evidence of that fact.

“Oh, I bet his lady friend would love to hear a few stories about him.” Callen shared a mischievous grin with Sam and she rolled her eyes, following after them.

As they approached, she could see Deeks talking animatedly, his hands gesticulating in relation to whatever he said, body inclined towards his date. His mouth split with the wide grin usually only saw when he found something particularly funny.

Kensi saw the exact moment he noticed them; his posture straightened, and he shook his head ever so slightly. Sam and Callen either didn’t pick up on it, or more likely, didn’t care.

“Hey Deeks, imagine finding you here,” Callen explained loudly, stopping next to Deeks’ table. This close, she could see the dismayed resignation in Deeks’ eyes.

“We thought you were busy with work?” Sam added.

The woman turned in her seat, glancing between each of them and Deeks in curiosity. By the time she drifted back to him, he’d shifted from resignation back to an easygoing smile, though there was still a slight tightened around his eyes.

He really didn’t want them there, Kensi realized.

“Jason, who is this? And why are they calling you Deeks?”

“They’re just some old friends,” Deeks assured her. “Deeks was a nickname in college.”

“Oh, well, I’m Connie,” she said a friendly enough smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Jason’s been pretty reticent about his friends.” She gave him a fondly annoyed look.

“Maybe that’s because he’s afraid of what we’ll share,” Kensi joked, but with enough edge that it made Connie frown just a little. Deeks tilted her head, giving her a pleading look, which she decided to ignore.

“I’m sure it’s all good,” Connie decided, rallying nicely. “She reached across the table to squeeze Deeks’ hand. “He’s such a sweetheart.”

“His stripper friends do love him,” Kensi continued. She flashed Deeks a goading smile.”

“Strippers.” Connie’s smile faltered.

“Oh yes, Onyx, Amber, what were the other names Deeks?”

“Fern, could I speak with you for a moment?” Deeks requested abruptly. He stood up, stopping to take a very uncertain and concerned Connie’s hand. “I’ll be right back. Don’t eat all the breadsticks without me.”

He didn’t give Connie a chance to object. “Do not say anything else,” Deeks muttered to Callen and Sam as he passed. After a moment, Kensi followed, only stopping when he reached the back of the next restaurant’s parking lot.

“What the hell are you doing?” Deeks hissed, a blazing anger in his eyes that Kensi had rarely ever seen. It made her take a step back.

“Well, I—”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”

“Oh, please do not act like you have the moral high ground here,” Kensi threw back, crossing her arms over her chest. “You blew us off for a date and now you’re embarrassed you got caught.” Even as she said it, it didn’t sound right, but she couldn’t come up with a better explanation.

Closing his eyes, Deeks pinched the bridge of his nose. He groaned quietly. “Kensi. I’m on assignment right now and you pretty much just obliterated my cover. Do you have any idea how long this took to set up. To find an in to the family?”

“She’s part of your undercover operation?”

He nodded once. “Yep.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you lie?” Kensi asked, trying to reason through her growing guilt and horror.

“Because it’s supposed to be confidential,” he explained softly. He shook his head again, disappointment in his eyes. “And because I thought you’d trust me when I said I had work.”

“Deeks, I am so, so sorry. If there’s anything—”

“No forget it. I’m going to see if I can salvage this night with Connie. Maybe I can convince her you guys were drunk and have a horrible sense of humor.” He waved her off with a heavy sigh.

“And if you can’t?” Kensi asked, already knowing the likely answer.

“Then LAPD will probably scrap the operation,” he answered dully. He started to walk off, but she grabbed her arm.

“Deeks, is there anything I can do?” she finally got out. “I feel horrible.”

He paused, then answered, “Go home.”

She watched him walk back across the lot, resisting the absurd urge to cry.

***

A/N: So there may be some slight OOC going on here. I was trying to make it different enough from my other stories like this. Hopefully it’s alright.

Thanks for the prompt!

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #Sam and Callen #pre densi #light angst #anonymous prompt #ejzah fanfiction

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okchijt · 2 years

Note

Can you please do a Karma or Nagisa with an S/O who frequently cries? I have bad separation anxiety and abandonment issues and they’re my favorite characters

Author's Note: Thank you so much Anon for the request! When I read this my first thought was "Why not both!?" and so I went with that! It's double the fun and comfort after all! I’m so sorry if Karma or Nagisa are out of character, it’s been a hot while since I’ve watched the show😅 I did some research when writing this to make it as accurate as possible, so feel free to correct me if anything is wrong! Hope it does the job for you or anyone who can relate to said request! And lastly, go ahead and check out my masterlist if you like what you just read and if you want to request anything yourself, thank you, and enjoy!❤

Karma Akabane

😈 The first time Karma saw you crying, his brain went full stop. He just stared at you with a dumbfound expression until he snapped out of it upon you noticing him and immediately rushing to your side to comfort you.

😈 Now Karma has never seen you cry until now and he never had the pleasure of comforting someone before, but he tried his best just for you. Whether that was trying to make you laugh or trying to make you tell him who hurt you, he'll do and say just about anything to make you feel better.

😈 Once you've calmed down and explained to him that when you woke up this morning and found him nowhere to be found(you two had a sleepover at your place) and with no message left behind you assumed the worst and all of your insecurities and worries came to light, making you start crying.

😈 Karma would be even more taken aback than he was before after hearing such news. He never once noticed you feeling this way because of how well you were at trying to hide it. Not knowing how to react, Karma would just awkwardly pat your head while giving you some words of reassurance, vowing to himself to do better.

😈 Karma will start to take mental notes of what makes you want to start crying, it could be the most severe thing ever or the stupidest reason for you to begin baling, but Karma would take both just as seriously. Though he sometimes thinks you're overreacting, he won't say anything and still try to calm you down with smooth words, hugs, and pats on the head.

😈 Karma will try to get rid of the problem as quickly as possible, as soon as he understands who or what will start making you cry, he will confront the issues head-on. If it's a person, for example, Asano was bothering you because of the class you're in, he'll literally fight them and threaten them. Maybe it's the sounds of nails on the board or visual gore in movies, or the fact you might arrive late to class. Karma might not understand all of your worries, but he'll shield you from them all proudly.

😈 You both agree that all of the things you're suffering from are tiring for both of you, so Karma will help you to the best of his ability to get rid of or at least lessen your fears. Karma's way of helping would include you facing all of your issues head-on. You'd have to explain to him what was bothering you at the moment to make you want to cry, and Karma would force you to face it while standing right behind you. Of course, he'd start slow with you though, like if interacting with people bothers you, he'd make you order something at a cafe while on a date at least once yourself. Or if a sound/visual is bothering you, he'd make you listen to the sound in minimal doses, each time turning the sound a little bit higher when you get used to the previous level. And with the visual, he'd put on the video or images in low resolution, turning it up each time you get used to the previous visual. When it's something out of your control, like being late to something or not being ready in time, Karma would tell you that you'll do better next time and congratulate you, and praise you with affection if you do actually manage to accomplish the thing that was worrying you.

😈 Now that was surprisingly the easy part for Karma to help you with. When it comes to your abandonment issues and separation anxiety, it's a different story. Karma would only ever do any research for his own benefit or for school, but you are someone immensely special to him so he'd start searching for ways to help you as soon as possible.

😈 With separation anxiety, Karma's way of helping you would include him leaving you with your favorite plushy or something that reminded you of him for brief periods of time and short distances at first. The first few times were extremely hard for you, almost immediately calling him on the phone to come back to you. To help you with that, he'd relax you by making you watch TV or read a book with the object in your lap while he left to do whatever. With time you'd get used to the separation and begin to handle it better.

😈 Another thing Karma would do is reassure you that he will be just fine upon leaving. Communicating to you that there is nothing to worry about, especially since you both know Karma can handle himself perfectly fine. Still, Karma will make an effort to send you a funny photo of himself and a message when he arrives home or at his destination safe and sound. Making you less anxious each time he leaves.

😈 Regarding your abandonment issues, you and Karma would start to notice your daily feelings, reactions urges, and words you choose to use. Which would lead to Karma challenging some of your limits and seeing how far he can stretch out dose feelings of yours. The more you force yourself to linger in those uncomfortable situations like not talking with him for a few hours or not being in his presence for a while, the more you'll begin to function independently without worry.

😈And lastly, know the difference between a feeling and a fact. Emotions can come over you and overwhelm you, but remember, feelings are temporary. Just like being away from Karma is, it wouldn't be long until you see and talk to him again. The feeling is him leaving, but it's a fact you'll see him again. So check the facts when you notice emotional overwhelm, and bring yourself back to your core.

😈 Everyone has their limits though and Karma gets that. So if he ever sees you're getting overwhelmed with his help or not up to facing anything that day because of how tired you are, he'll let you have a day or two without your "exercises". Instead, he'll spend the day with you doing whatever you want to do, anything you want is a-okay with him because it'd be his way of congratulating you for how far you've come. Whether it's small or huge progress, he's still proud and happy you're trying to help yourself. And at the end of the day, Karma will always reassure you he'll always be there for you, that he'll always come back to you, that he'll never leave you, that he'll always protect you, and that he'll always love you. After all, Karma is a man of his word.

Nagisa Shiota

🐍 Nagisa has already from the start been suspecting there's something going on with you, he could never pinpoint it though. He was also too shy to ask you himself, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

🐍 But during the last lesson of the day you, unfortunately, had fallen asleep due to overworking yourself and being tired. Thankfully Koro-sensei was nice enough to let you slide with that one and you slept throughout the whole lesson. By the time you woke up, everyone was already gone, even Nagisa who always walked home with you after school. That was when you started baling thinking he got tired of you and left you without saying a word, overthinking the whole situation.

🐍 Suddenly the doors opened revealing Nagisa standing in them, his expression turning to one of concern once noticing the state you were in. It was then that his suspicions have been proven correct once you explained the issues you go through daily after he told you that he left the class without you because Kaede forgot something from her desk and he ran after her to give the item back before quickly getting back to you to wake you up.

🐍 After much explaining from both of you, Nagisa would focus on trying to make you feel better. He'd hug you, walk with you home while holding hands, and offer to go to one of your favorite cafes for dessert. And on the way there he'd reassure you of how much he loves you and that he'd never leave you like that without a warning again.

🐍 Nagisa would be very similar to Karma in how he deals with your issues, but there are some differences! For example, Nagisa would also make notes, but physically this time to what upsets you to the point of making you cry. He would use the same technics as Karma, making you face those issues head-on with him being by your side the whole time, the only difference is that Nagisa would have more knowledge of how to help you in said situations.

🐍 He'd tell you to focus on taking slow, deep breaths. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. He'd lean on you and say to try to replace negative thoughts with positive ones or think about something funny or silly instead. Seeing the lighter, funnier side of a stressful situation can make things easier and stop you from crying so easily. He'd cup your face, make eye contact, and tell you that when a person cries their face tends to tense up. Focusing on the muscles on your face and relaxing them can help prevent crying.

🐍 And lastly, he'd sit down with you and just listen to you vent, failure to communicate properly can lead to anger and frustration, which can trigger the urge to cry. Learning how to express feelings clearly, staying calm, and using words can help to keep tears at bay. All of these are great ways to prevent or reduce someone from crying, and you can bet that after every exercise, whether it works or not, Nagisa will shyly cover you with affection and praise as congrats.

🐍 Now compared to Karma, Nagisa has more of a better idea of helping you with your separation anxiety and abandonment issues. Therapy! If you can't afford it then get ready because Nagisa and his mom are both ready to spend every penny to help you out with that. They just can't help it, they adore you too much! And of course, after every session, you'd have to tell Nagisa what your therapist recommended you try to do to get over your problems. And you can expect that Nagisa will make sure you follow through with them by also helping out.

🐍 When it comes to separation anxiety Nagisa would develop a quick "goodbye" ritual with you. Those rituals are reassuring and can be as simple as a special wave through the window or a goodbye kiss. It's important to keep things quick and not let the goodbye linger, it will help you realize that Nagisa leaving isn't as much of a big deal as it seems, but a normal thing instead.

🐍 Another thing he'd do is tell you the exact time he'll return or the day you'll see him again. It's supposed to develop the confidence that you need to handle separation, so it's very important Nagisa returns at the time he promised you. And he very much keeps to his word 100%, he won't betray the trust you put into that promise and it's a helping exercise, so you can bet that Nagisa will always return at the exact time he promised you with a little souvenir in hand as a gift for believing in him and yourself.

🐍 About abandonment issues, Nagisa would tell you to self-validate. And the reason is that if you don’t self-validate, you’ll be dragging your “seeking validation self” to anyone who will listen to you, unconsciously seeking their approval and validation. If you thoroughly self-validate on a daily basis, you can ask others for support, but it isn’t from the same desperation for them to grasp the intensity of your emotional experience. It'll make you feel stronger and more in control of yourself, so that means you won't feel the need to consistently seek validation from Nagisa or anyone else when you can do it yourself now.

🐍 Another thing Nagisa would tell you is to focus on making healing your responsibility. Yes, others may have hurt you, but this is your life, and the more important you make your healing, the farther you’ll get and the better your life will be. Taking accountability is the opposite of self-abandonment, it is the way to self-embodiment and self-care. That of course doesn't mean that Nagisa isn't there to help you out all the way he can. What he means by that is that in order to make any actual change, it's you that has to put all the work in, Nagisa is just there to add additional help when needed.

🐍 Of course Nagisa knows that you can get sometimes overwhelmed with everything you're going through, and just like Karma he will allow you to have some days to yourself without a care in the world. Rather he'd come up with a day with just you two filled with all kinds of your favorite activities, which would quickly turn into dates. But if you'd rather just stay at your or his house and just sit around doing nothing, that's fine with him too, whatever the love of his life wants is more than fine with him. No matter how big or small the progress you make in improving yourself, he's always going to be proud of you and remain by your side all the way. Just like Karma, Nagisa is a man of his word, so there's no doubt he's staying with you till the very end and it doesn't matter how many times he has to say it or show it, he will prove his devotion to you eventually. And when that day comes, you'll know just how much he loves you and will never leave you for the world.

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