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#it’s kind of embarrassing that people just see us that way and not as the super creative and fun corner of the fandom that we are
sillymilie · 3 days
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Charles Leclerc imagine
In which you and your boyfriend go to a business party and two men try to seduce you.
Warnings: men trying to seduce you, a little bit of alcohol
Word count: 959
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Dressed in all black accompanied with gold jewelry, you and Charles made you way to the entrance of the building in which you were invited to. Your fashion business had gotten really popular ever since it launched. You had already a decent reputation and Charles could only help with that. Of course, your boyfriend had advertised your business and you went really, really big.
Charles opened the door for you, as always, planting a small kiss on your cheek as you entered first. Everything looked amazing. Charles followed close behind you, making sure to not lose you in the crowd of people. You made your way to the reception, asking for directions to your business event.
"The room is gonna be on the fourth floor, on the right side. And also, just in case you need any more help, there are bodyguards present on the same floor as you're headed to. Have a fun time!" The receptionist smiled at us.
"Thank you!" You smiled at her, wrapping your arm around Charles', getting closer to him. He looked satisfied, but you didn't bother it and you made your way to the elevator.
"Fourth floor it is." You exhaled, feeling a bit stressed.
"Fourth floor indeed." Charles added. "Are you feeling okay?" He asked, lightly squeezing your thigh and looking down at you.
"Yeah, I'm just a bit stressed." You answered, letting out a sigh and looking down at the elevator floor.
"Everything is gonna be okay. We're gonna have a nice time. Plus, I'm here for you. If you want to go, just tell me and we'll get out of here anytime." Charles comforted you, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you towards him. He grabbed your chin and kissed your lips. You kissed him back immediately.
"Oh wow!" A man said, entering the elevator. You hadn't noticed the doors that had opened right in front of you.
"Sorry!" You said, pulling Charles out with you. You heard your boyfriend laugh behind you and you turned around. "That was really embarrassing."
"It was funny, mon amour. Kinda risky too. I loved it." (my love)
You rolled your eyes playfully and decided to go explore the floor a bit more. There were in fact some security guards near a small café corner. You looked around and made your way to a hallway that led to multiple rooms. On the left side were another business' name and on the right was your business logo with the name of it. You smiled and looked at Charles excitedly. He let out a small laugh and kissed you.
As you entered the party room, it was surprising how many people were there. You saw some of your employees in a corner dancing and talking all together. There was also a lot of people you didn't know because everyone could invite who they wanted.
"There's so much people. Do you know all of them?" Charles asked.
"Not at all. I only know a couple of them." You admitted.
"Let's go then, what are you waiting for?" Your boyfriend asked.
"Um, nothing! Let's do this!" You said loudly, exploring around.
You headed over to your employees and had a small talk with them. You really wanted to just go and see what there was in the room. You found it kind of weird that you barely knew who there would be and what there would be at your own business party, but you decided to still enjoy the moment. Charles wasn't with you anymore which you found good because you really wanted him to meet some new people.
"(Y/N)!!! COME OVER HERE!" One of your employees yelled, waving at you. They were sitting at a mini bar.
"Oh my God! What is this? There's a mini bar?" You said, surprised.
"YUP! Get a drink!"
You got yourself a drink and talked with your girls. All of you were having such a good time. You never wanted this to end. As another drink was ordered from you, two men sat down on seperate stools next to you. You tried your best to ignore them.
"Hey beautiful." One of the men said, placing his hands on the counter.
"I'm taken." You said, not looking at any of the two. You felt trapped, which was a feeling you absolutely hated.
"That's fine, your man don't gotta be aware of anything." The man in the back said, giving you a creepy smile. You didn't answer, trying your best to ignore them.
"Oh come on baby, talk to us." The man besides you said, sounding impatient.
"I don't need to talk to you whatsoever."
"Don't be like that, doll. I'll bring you back to mine. I can't wait to take your dress off and-"
"Who are you?" Charles asked, showing up behind you, looking at the men.
"Who are you?" The two men asked at the same time, eyeing you up and down.
"Come mon amour, let's get out of here." Charles said, helping you get up since you were a bit tipsy. You put your arm around his neck and you walked away. The two men watched as they sighed in disbelief. (my love)
"I hated that, a lot." You said as you watched the doors of the elevator close.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there faster." Charles apologized, placing a strand of your hair behind your ear.
"It's not your fault. It's those men. They're weird." You replied.
"They are indeed weird, but I could've been with you to stop that. I'm so sorry." Charles apologized again, giving you small kisses all over your face.
"Don't be sorry. Let's just get out of here for good. I don't want to see them again."
"Of course. Anything for you, (Y/N)."
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jedijune · 2 hours
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Jedi June 2024
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A creative fandom event dedicated to appreciating the Jedi, taking place during the entire month of June! Each week will feature two prompts, around which people can create fanwork (of any kind – fic, art, cosplay, edits, anything you can think of) or meta focusing on the Jedi and the Jedi Order. All eras and continuities are welcome; OCs, established characters, doesn’t matter – it just needs to be about appreciating the Jedi!
Rules:
If you are participating, please tag your work/meta with #jedi june and/or @ this blog so that I will see it and reblog it here. All work must be your own. Feel free to crosspost it off-site.
This is an appreciation event, focusing on what we love and enjoy about the Jedi – not what we don’t. This is not the place to air your grievances with the Code, take potshots at the Council, prop certain Jedi/certain eras of Jedi up at the expense of others, or disparage the Jedi Order or their philosophy (including the concept of non-attachment) and way of life in any way. You are free to do that on your own time if that’s your thing, but it has no place within this event.
AUs and crossovers are allowed, with caveats: again, the purpose of this event is to appreciate the Jedi as Jedi, so sticking your favorite Jedi characters in something like a modern AU or making them all Sith or Mandalorian is not really within the spirit of this event. However, AUs such as making a non-Jedi character a Jedi, having a character survive their canon death, giving a character a different teacher or padawan, or killing Palpatine off-screen in an unspecified yet embarrassing and painful manner, would all be perfectly fine. Use your best judgement to determine whether an AU fits the spirit of the event or not.
Ships are allowed as long as they’re not between a child and adult, and following the above rules.
Please tag any spoilers up to two weeks after the relevant content has aired.
Following the prompts is encouraged, but not required. Any sort of pro-Jedi content is encouraged all year month long, and if tagged (and following the rules), will be reblogged.
We also have an AO3 collection!
Prompts:
Week 1 (June 2 - 8):
Prompt 1: Fun/Joy
Prompt 2: Comfort
Week 2 (June 9 - 15):
Prompt 1: Advice/Inspiration
Prompt 2: Balance
Week 3 (June 16 - 22):
Prompt 1: Art/Music
Prompt 2: Peace
Week 4 (June 23 - 29):
Prompt 1: Non-attachment/Letting go
Prompt 2: Cross-lineage mentorship
Bonus (any time):
Prompt 1: Eyes Closed/Trust in the Force
Prompt 2: Animal Friendship
If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask! I hope you will have fun participating!
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Static banner credit @independence1776​​
gif banner credit @trickytricky1​​
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viperwhispered · 3 days
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I don't know about you, but I find shared baths deeply intimate. Mostly cause first you have to be very comfortable with the person you're bathing with and there's an intense feeling of safety that you boundaries will be respected.
Apply this to Jamil who is arguably the most paranoid man in all of TWST. Imagine he and his s/o are getting serious and Jamil is finally starting to really open up. It's also the stage where things are getting steamier, so to speak.
As both a sign of trust and a way to get used to each others naked bodies, the couple starts bathing together. The physical vulnerability of it since their both nude is further amplified since they have to wash/touch each other. That in itself requires a lot of trust.
Just imagine this: gently applying shampoo into Jamil's silky hair while he rants about his day, slowly revealing more about his past and insecurities. Then they switch and now the reader is the one opening up about their struggles while Jamil massages the soap onto their back. Kissing any scars they might have, talking about the most random things, playing with the water, and just enjoying this moment between Jamil and his beloved. Jamil is just so busy that he relishes being able to just enjoy their presence close to him.
There's also a strong desexualizing element. Jamil and the reader likely grew up with a notion that nudity is embarrassing and should only happen with a sexual partner. While this statement is technically true, they aren't in a sexual situation. They're trusting each other to respect their boundaries in such a way that the way they view each other goes from "potential sex object" to "a body that so happens to belong to my dearest".
Which further adds to my hot take of the "If evil why hot" route with OB!Jamil being pre-relationship.
Also, fun concept: washing away blot.
Imagine they're at the very end of the overblot Jamil boss fight. The phantom is defeated but there's still some blot left. So the reader pushes him into the river created by Kalim and holds him there as the water washes away the blot. When he starts calming down, they gently start rubing the blot off. Slowly trekking their fingers through his hair as the snakes dissappear. By the end they're left with an exhausted sulky wet Jamil. The reader then kisses his forehead as they wrap a towel around him.
Aww there definitely is a lot of potential for sweetness with stuff like this. I mean, having someone wash your hair, cleaning up together… It really can feel so intimate and vulnerable.
Now, I feel like I should add the caveat that I'm Finnish, so I'm fairly used to seeing other people's bodies in the sauna, for example, and the whole concept of nudity = sex is not quite so strong for me, personally. (Though personally I'm not likely to go to a mixed sauna, especially with strangers, but still.) So my perspective for the nudity aspect may be a little bit different, though I do definitely agree with these scenarios being intimate and potentially vulnerable. Like, you really do need to let your guard down to let someone see you bared like that, no hiding behind your clothes (or status) or anything else. Just, people, together.
Which definitely ties into that whole opening up for each other. We always tend to say that people are equal in the sauna, and it (perhaps surprisingly) is a good place for those deep, intimate conversations. So I can definitely see that same vibe for this bathing together, too.
Also just, the thought of squeezing into the tub together, trying to figure out how to adjust everyone's limbs and bodies so that you're both comfortable in there (and covered by water enough to actually get to enjoy it). One of you wrapping your arms around the other, holding them close, it's just… So sweet, and intimate, and also you kind of have to be “normal” about it to make it work (I don't really have the words for these vibes, just, yes it's intimate and vulnerable but at the same time you kinda just have to treat it as a normal thing if it's gonna work).
Just eugh I love this concept so much.
(Also now I'm definitely wondering how the twst guys would feel about sauna, perhaps even with the whole “run off naked to the lake to cool off a bit and then go enjoy some more heat” extra shebang.)
Oof that washing off blot, though… Oh it's going straight for my heart 😭 Just the whole I'm still here for you, I'm here taking care of you, let's wash away what happened (both literally and figuratively). Oh boy what a concept ripe for being picked apart.
(Also for some reason it's making me think of like washing off bodies for funerals, but in this particular case more in the sense of washing off the old self / what happened, something to allow rebirth or something. Or like, this could've destroyed him, but didn't. Idk, there's just so much one could do with this. Maybe it's just the talk of being washed in a river specifically that's making me think of like Lemminkäinen’s mother and all sorts of stuff.)
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mcflymemes · 1 day
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NOCTURNAL ANIMALS (2016) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary
please don't say that. i don't want to be like my mother.
do you ever feel like your life has turned into something that you never intended?
that's a deal breaker for me.
we might be perfect for each other if we didn't live in the real world.
why do you always think the worst of me?
you're wrong. you and i are nothing alike.
i see we're settling for less now!
a package arrived for you. i found it in the mailbox this morning.
i'm sorry, but could you help me open this? i just cut my finger. paper cut.
in the end, you left me with the inspiration that i needed to write from the heart.
where were you last night?
by the time i left the office, i was late for my dinner.
it would have taken you fifteen minutes. fifteen minutes, and it would have meant a lot to me.
you didn't come to bed last night.
i didn't want to wake you up.
that doesn't sound like you.
are things a little better?
i'm surprised. i thought we were hiding it pretty well.
[name], i'm worried about you.
seriously, look at me. you scared me the last time that we talked.
i'm fine. i just can't believe i told you all of those things. i feel embarrassed about it.
what right do i have to not be happy? i have everything. i feel ungrateful not to be happy.
i think we just want different things. or maybe i want different things.
we get into things when we're young because we think they mean something.
do we really have to stop tonight? i'd rather just get there.
don't look at them. don't give them any reason.
sit still. they've probably got a gun.
don't get out of the car.
you're not supposed to leave the scene of an accident. it's a crime.
don't come any closer.
i'm a gemini, my favorite color is petal pink, and i like long walks and kittens.
you know what, we should call the police.
you got no fucking right to talk to me like that!
you'll get killed if you don't watch it.
may i use your phone?
could you see them in the dark?
i just wanted to hear your voice. i miss you.
you sound weird. are you okay?
you look beautiful as always.
would you like to have dinner?
you know, you were my first crush.
what a weird thing to say.
i'm sorry. i hope that doesn't offend you.
this is a ridiculous conversation. you're too young to get married.
oh my god, did you just say that? you really just said that? that came out of your mouth?
it's like the whole thing is a blur.
now listen. i've got to be honest with you. right now it's not looking good.
if i write it down, then it will last forever.
you know my name. i told you.
you didn't sleep again, did you?
who the hell are you? get off my property!
you'll take this the wrong way, but i think that you need to stop writing about yourself.
please don't start that again. it makes me feel like you don't believe in me.
you always get so fucking defensive about it.
i really wanted to be this person that you thought i was. i really did, but i'm just not that person.
you're wonderful and romantic, and sweet and sensitive, and all the things i'm not. life for you is kind of a dream.
weak. i'm weak. that's what you want to say. go ahead and say it. you've said it before. weak.
i'll live to regret this. i regret it now.
i got a certain pride in how people talk to me, and there are certain things i don't put up with.
nobody gets away with what you did.
may i get you a drink while you wait?
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nalyra-dreaming · 2 hours
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Oh I love these:
Jacob Anderson
On Sam Reid's performance as dream Lestat: "I noticed after we did a few scenes together with that dynamic, I would just notice Sam copying me. I would have to be like, 'OK, he's studying the way that I stand or the way that I say things. It's the story. It's what's supposed to be happening.' But occasionally I was like, 'I don't do that!' Now I've seen the season, and I'm like, 'It's genius.' I'm looking forward to seeing what Sam says about playing Louis, essentially. It's Lestat as Louis remembers him, filtered through the things that Louis doesn't want to say, and can't say. And maybe the things that Louis is embarrassed or ashamed about, Lestat just says it."
Sam Reid
On Lestat and Armand's relationship: "They have a very, very, very messy relationship. I think a big part of why Lestat didn't want to go back to France, in Season 1, when they were in New Orleans, is because he doesn't want to run into Armand. He doesn't want to see Armand. He's got a very, very complex relationship with him. It's not like he's like, "Ugh, Armand!" [Disgusted noise] It's like, "Ugh." [Exasperated noise] He's not twisty, turny, thinking about Armand every single day or whatever. He's like, "Ugh, I just would rather… Yeah, I don't want him around." But when he does the flick of his wrist when he thinks about Armand, he's also flicking a huge chunk of his life away."
Delainey Hayles
On Louis and Claudia's relationship: "The book became like my Bible in a way, where I was able to look back and look at how Anne Rice describes Claudia. And I was taking into consideration that it's been her and Louis for a very long time. As a child, you absorb your surroundings. Claudia has spent a lot of time with Louis over the past couple of years. So I think, in a way, his empathy kind of rubs off on her."
Assad Zaman
On the show's memory theme: "I personally think often we equate — if the memory's a little bit inaccurate, then the feeling isn't real. [But] if you think back to our childhood, we elaborate on the stories in our heads so much, and often the tiniest things, moments that meant a lot to us become bigger as we remember them. Time slows down or speeds up, and people become larger or smaller in our heads depending on how they made us feel in that time. I think [there's] a lot of that this season — when we go into Paris, I think that's where the performative nature comes into it. We get to really embrace those emotions. The love between Louis and Armand, the romance, is one of the most beautiful parts of it, the way it starts."
Eric Bogosian
On his experience working on the show: "To be working on such complex material and be asked to do things that I haven't done before, and to be working with such amazing creative team — I mean... I've been around. I'm not speaking from, like, this is my second show or my third show. This is like, my 35th show, or 60th, or something. So when I say that Rolin [Jones] is amazing, Hannah [Moscovitch] is amazing — that's our writing team — and that Jacob and Assad are amazing — these guys are very generous. And I think a lot about [how] when you go into deep work as an actor, you have to feel safe. I have definitely not been safe [in the past], especially with men. Men can be real jerks on set, and the audience can't see it, because we have to do our job. But if you're with a bully star, it's hard to go to where you need to go to. And Jacob, who's mainly who I'm working with, he's a very loving guy. Maybe people don't want to know this about him. Maybe I'm only supposed to say things like, 'In real life he's actually a vampire,' but in real life, he's actually a real, very sweet man. Very human."
Ben Daniels
On Santiago's approach to the theater: "It's like people trolling on Twitter. It's like, they're hidden behind the screen, but his screen is the fact that he's pretending to be a human. And he sort of is getting those mortals by the scruff of the neck and saying, 'Look at yourselves. Look how ridiculous and pathetic you are.' But they lap it up because they think it's a show."
THERE'S MORE!
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jujutsukgojo · 3 days
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My gifts to you
feitan portor x reader
Summary: You knew him for years for only moments at a time. Yet, you take it upon yourself to love and mourn him anyway, even when the world won't. tw: light smut, slight yandere feitan, spoilers, mentions of murder, light angst, fluff(?), injuries, cheating, time skips an: didn't mean for it to be this long. Feitan is a bit tricky for me but oh well :) kind of inspired by criminal minds 'no way out'. 10.8k
“If you tie it like this, it should stay, okay?” You tap the boy’s foot. Although he is smaller than you in height, his feet are bigger. It’s quite comical but you don’t dare laugh. In this blasted city, you’d be bound to die for such a thing. Especially if you laugh at someone with crazy hair and carries a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.  
  He says something in a foreign language that you can’t understand. If you are correct, it may be inverted Japanese. In the books that one kid collects, there is a country, Japan, where the common language originates. Since the common language isn’t his mother tongue, it makes you wonder where he’s from and why he’s here. 
  The boy stands up to his full, but short, height. You sit on random rubble and look up at him, waiting for what he’ll do next. Will he call over Phinks or even bring Uvogin? He hangs out with Phinks mainly but who knows these days. 
   Instead of swinging the bat at you or calling over his friends, he pats your head awkwardly. You don’t make any sudden movements or noises. The boy leaves right after. A sigh escapes your lips after he leaves you behind.  
   What's his name again? Feitain? 
__________
  In your hut, you slightly stir the food that sizzles in the pan you found. It’s rare to come across tomatoes and eggs but you managed this time. The smell is mouth watering. You hope no one else can smell it. 
As much as you want to live elsewhere, this is what you settle for at the moment. In another world, you’d be out of this city and somewhere clean and safe. Like the church or something. No, even better than the church. You’ve heard of the outside where there are bright flashing lights and diamonds and pearls on people’s necks. There are flowers of all colors out there. Different shapes, smells, and meanings, they’re all beautiful. You hear that food isn’t scavenged but bought or given to people without a price.  
   People said they’ve seen the safety of children your age that play without a care. There are parents for the lost kids and doctors for the injured. Clean clothes and showers on the regular. You can even see the sun clearly and the big, round moon that doesn't bring out the wolves in men. 
There are pastors and priests that don’t turn people away, either. Hell, you have even wondered if there were schools there that allow everyone to get in. You're sure that you are reading and doing math wrong. How embarrassing.  
Finally done, you place the food on a plastic plate you found. You made sure to wipe the grime off the plate and rinsed it with clean water before using it. Even though you can just eat out of the pan, you want to seem sophisticated like the outside. They don't eat out of pans or use dirty plates. 
  The food steams and is welcoming. Without a lot of utensils, you pick at it with your hands. It burns at first but you’re too hungry. The flavor bursts in your mouth. Even without the proper seasonings, it’s still heaven. You haven’t eaten in a while so you’ll take what you can get.  
   Suddenly, the boy, Feitan, enters your hut. You gasp and protectively cover your food. He brings his foot out. His shoe, which he stole, is untied again. You swallow the substance and point out, “I taught you how to tie them.” 
“Tie.” 
“I taught you.” You set your plate down.  
“Tie.” You roll your eyes and pat your thighs. He walks over to you and places his dirt caked shoe on your lap. Slowly, you tie them.  
“There, see? Come on now, you need to learn. A little boy can’t grow without tying his shoes.” 
“I’m not little boy.” You give a breathy chuckle. “Of course you are, honey.” 
  He leans in close to your face. “I’m older than you.”  
...He does hang out with Phinks, who is a couple years older than you. In fact, it is rare to see them apart. Is it possible that it’s true? Is Phinks the type to be friends with someone who is younger?
 Curious, you ask, “Then why are you so short?” His eyes widened in shock. Then, strangely, he laughs while patting your head harshly. Studying his face revealed what looks like the beginning of a sinister smile.
  He looks at your plate and sits down in front of you. You’re both on the dirt floor. 
 “Give me.” You scoff and snap at him. “No! Find your own!” 
The little beast decided that the two of you should ‘share’. He smacks on his food, making you want to punch him repeatedly. He’s gaunt and bony, but not really bad like last time. His face has a tiny bit of roundness to it. 
  “Stop staring.” He inhales a tomato. “You look better than last time.”
“Better?” He cocks his head to the side. The remnants of the tomato smeared a little on his cheek.
“Yeah, healthier.” He stares at you for a second. “Thanks.” His accent is thick, and you still can’t place it. Nevertheless, you understand. Afterwards, much to your surprise, he sleeps in your hut now that his belly is full. Satisfied and strangely not afraid, you follow suit. It’s nice to have a friend, however strange.
You are barely awake, sleep still heavy in your eyes, when you see him pop up. Drool is crusted on his cheek, and he rubs his eyes. He yawns and then spots you next to him. Feitan eyes the entry of the hut then back at you. He puts the only cover you have on you then pets your head. 
  Before he leaves, he places his bat in your hand. Feitan secures the entry as he exits the hut. 
_____________
  It’s been years since you and Feitan have talked. You've gotten familiar with him but when Sarasa had died in such a disrespectful and gruesome way, he withdrew. In the meantime, you waited for him and studied a power you discovered. No matter the eyes that were always on you, you didn’t care about the mysterious and hidden audience. 
  You don’t know what it’s called but it started when you witnessed some kid about to get her ass handed to her by some thugs. The man had moved a pair of scissors without using his hands. They aimed right towards her and in a moment of instinct, you rushed to push her out of the way. Unfortunately, the scissors stabbed you in the shoulder.  
  It was then did you feel the rush of a force so strong, that it knocked everyone away from you. A faint white light that glowed from your skin that only your eyes could see. As you looked around in shock, you saw that same glow coming from that man and his friends. 
  You were gasping when you fell to your knees. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t be here!” The girl your age ran for her life and left you behind. In a moment of fear, you call out to her to help you. You were so afraid; you couldn't tell if the screams were hers or yours. Given the situation, you were too rattled, terrified and hurt, to focus.
The men shook for a second then got up to face you. The blood from your shoulder wasn’t stopping its flow. Crimson red stained your clothes and the ground. It was all so strange, such an unusual feeling of adrenaline that you couldn’t help but memorize. Almost as if the world had finally made sense. Every single thing became so much clearer to your dismay.  
  The men came towards you with malicious intent. While putting pressure on your injury, you managed to kick one of their legs, causing them to buckle and hurt his knee. He screamed in agony. 
  “G-get away!” You try to stand. The press of your hand on the wound isn’t helping. Is it supposed to bleed this much? It hit your shoulder, but did it nick something?  
  You need to stop it, to heal and get away from them. In this city, people like you are in danger from men like them. If you don’t get away, you’ll end up like Sarasa. She was never really close to you. She was a nice girl who always looked for video tapes, so you'd help her from time to time. Yet, her death scarred everyone since it was so close to home. And now, you no doubt are facing the exact same situation. Wrong place, wrong time.  
   Same fate.  
You fell back on the ground and looked at the sky. It has always been so dirty, just like the city due to pollution. Still so young, you know you won’t see what it really looks like. In the corner of your eye, you spot something green. A small clover with four leaves. 
  One time, an old man told a story of how four-leaf clovers are a sign of good luck. By the intense feeling and pressure of your eyes, you know it’s not true. Pain in all ways makes tears fall from your eyes. Lips wobbling at how unfair everything is and that you will never see the sun. The outside must really be heaven, and for someone so young who hasn’t committed a sin, you are wondering if you can go.
  Suddenly, flowers that you never knew blossomed around you. The soft petals touched your filthy skin and got rid of the aches. The blood on your shoulder faded from view as well as the pain. A soft and beautiful hum whispered in your ear. You truly believed it to be in your head, an imagination of paradise as you leave. Heaven, they call it. You must be close to the outside world then. 
  This must be it, you thought. There was no pain from a strike or fear. Just closed eyes and peace. Something you know you couldn’t get in the atrocious city.  
It ends. You were shocked as the beautiful flowers disappeared. Heaven, would you reject someone? 
  The men didn’t hurt you. The one whose knee was broken was able to move his leg. His red hair kind of glowed in the sun, and brown eyes were wide. He muttered a soft ‘thank you’ and walked away without a limp. His friends followed.  
   After that, you had realized that your ability wasn’t anything like scissors or something scary. It was to heal and be healed.
Although after immediately learning this, you didn't go out of your way to find the source of the screams in the direction the people went. First was the girl, then the group of men. After what you went through, it didn't seem like a good idea. 
 Feitan, somehow, got wind of it. Now in his later teen years you both estimate, he sits still and points to his arm. There’s a gnarly gash oozing blood. You wonder how he’s not feeling this and if he is, how he isn’t even fazed.  
  You gently pick up his arm and inspect it. He's thin but has clear definition in his arms. You haven’t seen him in so long that you are surprised by his growth. Hell, he’s taller now. Still short, but at least he grew.  
  In a jar, you take a premade petal. This is a way for you to save energy and reach people when you physically can’t tend to. Acting as a pill, you make sure that people can get infections out. For some reason, illnesses and infections are particularly tricky and tiring for you.  
  “Eat this, Feitan.” He frowns. “No.” You sigh. “It’s infected. You need to eat this so I can heal it right.” 
  “It’s not.”   
Rolling your eyes you bring his wound to his face. “This, this is infected. It's literally oozing pus.” How long did this go on? Was he really that hesitant to just come and see you?
  He growls and takes the delicate petal and places it in his mouth. “Stop pouting.”  
“Not pouting. It’s nasty.” He’s not wrong. It has a bitter taste and when chewed, a slimy texture. The color of the disintegrating petal leaves a stain in the mouth as well. If not for the benefits, no one would even bother. They'd be just as offended as Feitan.  
  The pus stops and clears up. “Alright, this’ll leave a scar.”  
You blow on your hand so that flowing blossoms surround him. Beautiful shades of pink and white go through his hair. With a gentle caress, you see the flurries touch his wound. It starts to encourage his own healing.  
  As much as you want to do the full thing, you’re tired. All day you’ve been working and collecting payments. Not to mention facing the disappointment of them being useless. You want to kick yourself for not getting paid first. But the sight of those grateful people and healed kids softens your heart.  
  Soon, it stops once the injury becomes manageable. You’re about to wrap it when a hand stops you. “What’s this?”  
  “Feitan, I'm tired. You caught me at a bad time.” You try to move your hand but he stops you. He's a lot stronger than you remember. “Heal.” 
His fluency isn’t the greatest still.  
“I’m tired! Just let it heal the rest of the way.” No matter how much you try to yank your hand away, his grip is too strong. “Please, Feitan...”  
  Surprisingly, he lets go and from what you can see, the subtle white glow appears and heals him the rest of the way, leaving small flames. “Feitan...what was that?” 
  He rolls his eyes and plops down on a chair. He says nothing and just relaxes, or at least that’s what he’s trying to make it seem like. It has been a while since you’ve seen him, but that doesn’t make you blind to his behaviors…sometimes. 
   “As a transmuter, I can heal a little by using enhancer,” He looks at you suspiciously. “You know nothing about nen?”
“Nen?” You put the gauze and other items in a black bag. It was found in the safe zone by the church. Apparently, it belonged to a doctor from the outside. The bag had all kinds of necessities. Gauze, medicine, some syringes, disinfectant, a thermometer, all kinds of stuff that you’ve had to use sparingly. What you save in the bag, you make up for with your ability. 
  He smacks his lips and calls you a ‘dumb brat’. “You use nen but don’t know it?”
Sighing, you ask, “What is nen, Feitan?” 
“What you do. Use your aura and stuff.” His arms are crossed, and he looks at you expectantly. You gather that he likes knowing things you don’t. It’s like a weak power trip. 
  But it is nice to finally have a name and explanation for it. And that’s what he did this time. Visiting you for a moment just to pick with you while teaching you something you should have known. 
“Wait, if you could do that, why’d you come here?” He just shrugs.
------
When you see him again, he brings his friends along. You immediately recognize some of them. Phinks, who ran with Feitan, the boy who always collected books, and Uvogin, the giant who was always claiming territory and beating people up. 
  Feitan should be twenty now. It’s hard to tell since he looks youthful. He points to his friend, the boy with the books, and orders, “Heal.”
“You can do it, Feitan, remember?” You were in the middle of cleaning when he and the rest of his posse pop up. They look flustered and a little worse for wear. 
  “Heal.” He always does crap like this. You roll your eyes at first. The body they carry tugs on your strings a bit. 
“Fine. Put him on the table.” Thankfully, it’s cleaned, and a new wrapping has been placed on it. Gently, the man is put on it. You spot the cross tattoo on his forehead. Ah, that’s where Feitan has been. Lately, there’s been whispers of the Phantom Troupe. Merciless killers and thieves from Meteor City that have been gaining respect over the years. Your opinion of them isn’t the greatest but it also isn’t the worst. You appreciate them for standing up for Meteor City, but their methods are questionable.
   You sigh and begin to undress the boy with the cross. “Is that necessary?” 
You continue to pull off his clothes, not bothering to answer the question the girl asked. If she can’t understand why you need to remove his clothes, then that’s on her. She scoffs after another female voice answers her question. 
  You finally see his wound. Feitan can heal himself to a degree, but you don’t think this guy can. The gash is deep and sewed with makeshift stitches. There’s no nen involved, surprisingly. Given that Feitan is an avid user, you thought his friends would be keen on it too. 
“He’s a specialist. Enhancer techniques are harder for him.” Phinks spoke. He must've understood your confusion. 
“And the stitches?” You gently investigate the area. It’s an angry red around it and, like you suspected, infected. It wasn’t properly taken care of. You begin to remove the stitches. You wonder what the thread is made of and how long this has been going on. 
“He,” Phinks points to Uvogin. “And him,” He then points to another large man with long ears. “Thought they could do it. Normally, Machi heals us but they were away from her. Her stitches would have helped him but not any infections.”
  “Ah, well this requires more than I thought.” You touch the ground and out comes a beautiful swirl of flowers. Underneath the moving petals is a blooming sunflower. It picks the guy up so he rests on it. The bed of the flower glows softly and becomes warm. His once wincing face is now peaceful. His injury is slowly closing and the red is beginning to turn pink. 
“The downside of this is that it takes a while. It’ll be all healed up in about an hour or so.”
“ An hour?” Uvogin, who has abandoned his afro and traded it for long standing hair. “Feitan, I thought you said she was good? We could’ve gone to that one guy and got it done right then and there.”
“She’s the best. Wait.” His hands are in his pockets and he moves. Feitan looks around and touches whatever he pleases. You try not to focus on his compliment. You wonder if the reason he moved from your line of sight is because he got embarrassed. If so, you won’t tease him. The Troupe are killers, afterall. 
   You start to feel the weight of your nen. This technique requires more effort than the others. Feitan explained it to you but you never did get the hang of it. You just know what to do instinctively. You were proud that you could do any of this without a teacher.
 What you’re sure of is that this man, whatever his name is, is giving you a crap ton of money after this or there’ll be hell to pay. 
   You feel something tickling the side of your face. The wrapper is red and unopened. You take the energy bard gratefully. “Thank you, Feitan.”
A couple of the Troupe members complain about the time. Machi or Mochi or whatever, the pink haired one, especially complains and criticizes for some reason. You have never seen this person before in your life yet here she is pouting. 
  “You okay?” You see the blond boy with big blue eyes study you closely. He moves closer to your face. A smile never leaves his face. Before you can answer, Feitan, who hasn’t left your side since you ate the bar, answers for you. 
“She’s fine. I’m watching her.”
You hear a couple of snickers. Feitan glares daggers at the offenders. You take a deep breath and ignore the friends who decided to crowd inside your hut. The boy with the forehead tattoo lies peacefully. Although you are running out of steam, his wound is healing nicely. One of the women, you believe it’s Pakunoda, comes to you and bends down. 
“Can I get you anything?” You discover that your throat is absolutely parched. “Some water, please.”
  If you remember correctly, the last you saw of her was when her head was shaved and some outsider kid did it. She had always kept it short. And now, it’s on her shoulders and very sleek. Over the years she’s drastically changed.
  You drink the water, which to your surprise, is clean. “Hey, how did this happen anyway?”
  “Don’t ask questions.” Feitan quickly shuts you down. Before you can ask anything more, you notice the entire group of friends are quiet. 
  “It’s nothing for you to worry about, okay?” You nod at the blonde boy with blue eyes and a permanent smile. Completing the hour, the tattoo guy is up. He’s immediately impressed. “My name’s Chrollo Lucilfer. Yours?” He puts out his hand for you to shake. 
  “Yeah, the book collector-theater nerd-kid, right? My name’s-” Before you can even answer, Feitan does it for you. 
  He gives your name and how your Nen works. He’s quick with it, too. You side eye Feitan for a second. “Thanks, Feitan. I, uh, really needed a spokesperson.”
“Ah, I guess it can’t be helped then, Feitan?” There’s tension in the air. It’s thick and heavy. By the looks of it, neither one is backing down. “Um, it’s not a big deal that he answered for me, you do know that, right?”
  Seconds pass through this. You look around for anyone to intervene with this. Whatever the hell is going on, it’s deep. “Since Fei explained it, why not have her join?”
“Positions are filled.” Chrollo still stares directly into Feitan’s eyes. Phinks nervously chuckles, once again trying to defuse the situation. “Fei, come on. No fighting. Right boss?”
  Suddenly, it’s lifted. Chrollo has what looks like a practiced smile on his face. “That’s true. That’s a rule.”
  Chrollo takes a glance at you. “She obviously means a lot to you. Clearly, she’s an asset, too.”
  “I’m right here, jackass.” Feitan smacks you on the head. “I’ll handle her.” 
  The others sigh in relief. Momentarily, you’re a little offended. “It was nice meeting you.”
They exit your hut right after, leaving Feitan behind. “So. those were your friends, huh?”
“Watch tongue.” You smack your lips and roll your eyes. There is blood on the floor and on the table. The furniture is in disarray due to all of his friends having no home training.  “I haven’t seen you in forever and this is how you greet me?”
 He frowns. “I say hello all the time.” You turn to him. “When? I didn’t see you.”
Feitan huffs and kicks the ground lightly. You get up to move the furniture back to place. Your movements are slow and everything seems so much heavier. Everything is swirling right before your eyes. Your head hurts and yet feels so light. Before you meet the ground, Feitan takes you to the couch and lays you down. 
  “I haven’t seen you in so long, little boy…” Those were the last words you say before you drift to sleep. 
Hours later, you wake up at the sound of birds. There is a beautiful blue blanket on you with golden yellow designs. It’s thick and so warm you could stay forever. You’ve never owned anything like this. 
  Slowly you get up and search for Feitan. He’s nowhere to be found much to your dismay. Last night’s conversation still stays with you. He insisted that he says hello all the time. That he sees you regularly, yet, you haven’t seen him at all. 
  The blanket, the wind chime, the medical supplies, the various decorations with stones, paint and if you weren’t smart, you’d say gold. Could Feitan have been the one to give you gifts? Silently watching over you and in his own way, saying hello? You have felt like you were being watched for years. 
____________
  “Do you understand why I didn’t welcome you?”
“No, and I never will. Now please, leave me alone.” You feel convicted by turning a man of God away, but can he truly be one when he left a child to suffer? You were in the cold, wind, and rain, alone in one of the worst parts of the city. All you had was Feitan, and he was there once in a blue moon. After the rejection from the church, you took it upon yourself to care for others as no one had ever cared for you. Although hurt and afraid, you chose not to spread that toxicity. You decided that no matter the size of change, it still works. 
 However, you will not fall prey to the same people. For instance, that girl you saved and this priest. How can he expect your services with no repentance or atonement? You forgive, but like hell will you forget. 
Damn…you were so sure you were over the pain of your past. That the change you made within yourself and how you treat people so no one else suffers like you, would stick. Alas, all it takes is one person to bring it down. You want to kick yourself because of the regression. Then again, the hostility isn’t your fault.
You walk into the hallway with small statues, stone walls, and large windows. The sun shines brightly through them, making the church seem prettier than it is.
“Please-”
“She said no.” Feitan stands with his hands in his pockets, the sun shining on his pale skin. It has been a few months since the incident with Chrollo. You haven’t seen any of them but have felt eyes on you, which you have deduced was Feitan. However, you learned the truth of the blanket. The name stitched on it belonged to an old clan, the Kurta, that was mutilated, tortured, and murdered by the Phantom Troupe. It disgusts you. The blanket is comfortable but still. 
Feitan, the boy who you taught to tie his shoes, gave you a trophy of his crime. You wanted to burn it, or bury it in the memory of the Kurta, yet you couldn’t. It’s a gift from the one consistent person in your life. Your protector and giver. So, you folded it and put it in a box. 
   Now, here he is like he’s done nothing wrong. Defending you and putting the man that’s been with the city for ages in his place. You’re shocked at his behavior. 
  “Feitan, surely you must understand!” 
“Shut up.” Father Rizole took a step back in surprise. Feitan was one of his regulars, if you remember correctly. This must be a surprise for the aging priest. 
You hum at the scene. Even though the rumors of what the Troupe has done bothers you, it doesn’t mean you aren’t opposed to the benefits. The priest backs up and sighs. 
“If you ever reconsider, please, let me know. We could use your help.”
“I could’ve used it too.” You end the conversation there and leave. Feitan soon follows you. He’s silent on his feet and very fast. Feitan was behind you but his quick feet caught up in less than a second. Now, he walks right at your side. 
“So, you just decide when you want to see me?” 
Feitan shrugs. “I don’t know.” 
Sighing, you turn to him and ask, “What do you need this time?” The lower half of his face is hiding under a plain cowl now. His eyes show all of the emotion needed. “I just hang out.”
  The sun is too hot for this nonsense. Sweat trickles down your face and back, becoming sticky. “So that’s why you’re here, right? I’m shocked.”
Before he can say your name, you continue. “Oh! And let's not forget the little massacre that took place, huh? Yeah, being used to heal your friend from that was really fun.”
“I didn’t.”
 You roll your eyes. “No, just that one guy. That’s who to you, again?”
“Boss.” You scoff at his short answer. Then, you think about the possibility. “Your boss? Then…doing that to the Kurta, wasn’t your idea, was it?”
“No, not mine.” His hands remain in his pockets. His hair blows in the wind slightly. You realize he hasn’t gotten a haircut in a while. 
“If you could, you know, go back in time…would you still do it?”
“Yes.” No hesitation, no thought put into the answer. Just a plain as day answer and a tone that leaves no room for an explanation. 
“So whatever he wants he just gets? As long as it aligns with your twisted mind, right?”
  His eyes grow darker. “I save you.”
You point to the church. “No, no you didn’t. That guy wasn’t going to do anything to me. I had it handled.”
Shaking your head, you go to leave until a hand wraps around your wrist. “Boss takes nen. I didn’t let him.”
  Was that what that was? That tension that day that was suffocating? Remembering that day, you start to form pieces. “Would he hurt you if you didn’t go along with his schemes?”
“No.” 
Well there goes that idea. “Nevermind.”
You try to yank your wrist from his grip, but it’s iron tight. “Let me go!”
“I protect you, always. Bad people here, everywhere. I get dirty for you.” His face is indifferent but his words give it away. The plea for you to understand and realize, dare you say, his devotion to his friends. Does this include you?
Is that what it is? What friendship, this connection is? You are aware of the deeds the Troupe do. You understand why they thought it would be a good idea (somewhat anyway). 
“Thank you, then.” He lets go of your wrist which was grabbed painfully tight. He trades that in for holding your hand instead. You are shocked at first, but if you make it a big deal, he’ll stop. You don’t want him to right now. 
  Not when you feel safe. You still want to kick yourself… and maybe throw in a punch.
_____
Apparently, the Troupe have gone their separate ways for now. They don’t cling onto each other for a long period of time after a job. It’s better that way since it has a lesser chance of them getting caught. They still hang out from time to time, though. 
For you, you managed to get out of Meteor City after the argument with the priest. Feitan had gone to do another heist with Phinks, if you remember right. You took that moment to skip town. You never wanted to stay in the trash, anyway. 
  And you were right to! Everything you thought of as a child about the world outside was true! Sure, people can be rude and things can be corrupt, but you’re fed and resting. There are bright lights and kind people. It can be clean and the soap smells so good. Just the other day you got to experience a nail salon. Rather than stealing from you, the lady next to you, Jade, talked about her family. Her daughter is Ruby and her wife is Scarlet. Jade and Scarlet want another child. You offered the name Emerald. 
  In Meteor City, you would’ve had to fight. Now, you are making friends and offering beautiful names. It’s a stark contrast that is fully welcomed. 
  The sun is bright and the moon is sometimes round. It doesn’t always attract evil and can sometimes sing such a beautiful melody. There are pearls and diamonds. There are seasonings that make the food taste unbelievably good. It’s all expensive, but infinitely better than Meteor. 
And Nen is a secret here. In the city, many knew about it and used it without discretion. Here it’s different. Like a secret identity for a hero. Your nen in particular isn’t used as much as it was before. Your ability was so tiring. Pretty and incredibly useful, but exhausting nonetheless. 
  It has been a few years since you saw him, but he’s seen you. He found you quickly, too. When you came home from your office job (which you are still ecstatic about, by the way) you noticed a new painting in your house. It was dull and in black and white. The painting is of a few plants that take the center stage. Actually, they’re your nen plants. In the background is what looks like your old city. Piles of rubbish and polluted air in black swirls. There are clouds above and a dark sun barely poking out. 
  It’s sad. Beautiful, but sad. You have wondered what he meant by it. You open the door to your apartment. It’s not much and one day you want to get a house. 
  The keys make a jingle when you set them on the countertop. The apartment is still dark, so you scramble to flip the switch. “Why you leave?”
You scream at the top of your lungs. Standing there nonchalantly is Feitan, who you haven’t had contact with in a hot minute. His hair is even longer than before. He wears a new cowl that has a skull on it over his face. His trench coat looks a little too big for him but he wears it well anyway. 
  “Uh, because I live here? What are you doing here?” You set your bag down and take off your short heels. Although he’s a murderer, you still feel safe with him. 
 He takes slow strides towards you. “ Why? I looked for you and you weren’t there.”
“You knew where I was. I got your presents,” You point to the painting. He hides his face a little in the fabric. “I like it by the way. Did you do it?”
“Shut up.” You sigh and walk into your kitchen. “I’ll make you something to eat.”
 You begin to wash the rice. Your eyes switch from looking down to taking obvious glances at him. Right about now, he should be in his mid twenties. It’s amazing how long you’ve known each other. You remember him as that kid who didn’t know how to tie his shoes and him teaching you about Nen. Time flies so fast when you least expect it. 
  You crack the eggs and whisk them. The sound of the utensil against the bowl and the sizzle of the tomatoes in the pan is all that is heard. Feitan doesn’t make one sound. He opts to stare at you working and even has a glint in his eye which you think could be satisfaction. 
  “Do you still like this, by the way? I remember you snatching it.” You try not to smile at the memory. 
 “I do.” He hovers in your kitchen, just waiting, watching you do all of the work. Stingy bastard. After adding the seasonings, you could have never gotten in Meteor City, you fix him a plate. He happily accepts it and sits down on the floor. 
“I have a tab-” Oh, the memory. Allowing yourself to smile, you sit with him and eat off of his plate. “We’re sharing. ”
 He gives a slight growl but doesn’t do anything. “So, what brings you by?”
“I say hello.” You hum with a mouth full of food. “Well, hello to you too, little boy.”
He gives you a light kick. The two of you finish the plate. Both full, you just lay back and talk. 
“How long are you staying?” 
“Not long.” You’ll miss him. “Running from the cops again?”
“Need to hide out for a bit.” You nod, accepting his answer and that your connection will probably always be sweet moments. “It’s nice to have you here, even only for a moment.”
  Feitan taps you again with his foot. “I’m always here. I say hello all the time.” You know and are fully aware of what he means. His odd little gifts decorate your house. To bones, to rugs, even a china set he stole. It’s routine for him to give you something, even when you don’t see him. 
“Even though you run.” He kicks you again. The more you watch him, the more your chest tightens. He’s the only consistent thing in your life. Everything is fleeting. Your job is new as well as your relationship with your coworkers. But there is a line with them. Feitan is different.
  “How long are we going to do this dance?”
“I don’t dance.” You roll your eyes and laugh. “I mean you coming by once in a blue moon.” 
  He shrugs. “I don’t know.” You nod. “Figures.”
He frowns. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean, that this whole thing is tiring. You come and go like some kind of feral cat.”
  “So?”
You sputter, “ So I don’t appreciate it.” He takes off his long coat and reveals his chest, next goes his shoes. “I sleep here.”
“You can’t use me!” He gets up and goes in the direction of your room. “Feitan!” You pick up his clothes and set them aside. “Do you hear me? I wasn’t done talking!”
  On your bed is a sprawled out Feitan. He looks at you with squinted eyes. “Shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”
  Like always, he makes himself at home. You sigh, giving up on trying to talk to him. “Move over.” 
  He scoffs and reluctantly moves out of your way. You feel him tense up as you lay down. “This is my bed. I can sleep here.”
  You face each other as you lay down. Neither of you say anything about how close you are. This is probably the closest you’ve ever been since you helped him tie his shoes the second time. You feel his eyes on you, making you nervous. “Stop staring at me.”
  “Never sleep with someone in a while.” You know. The last time was with you, no doubt. At the time, you didn't think about it, if you remember correctly. It's hard to tell since it's been so long. 
“The couch is that way.” He smacks his lips. “No, you go.” You open your eyes. 
“Like I said, this is my bed.” Feitan doesn’t say anything about your ownership. Instead, he’s honest with you. “I’m tired.”
  Instantly, you start to feel a little bad. In the city, no child was ever able to fully sleep. It was too dangerous, especially in the more dangerous districts. Him being honest about his state, you take it as a step. 
  “If you want to, I’ll be on the lookout.” His hands are next to yours. You grab them, just like he did those few years ago. “You can sleep now, Feitan.” 
  You don’t know when, don’t know how either, but you two do end up sleeping. His eyes are closed and his breath even. Your eyes flutter open and see that he’s got slight dark under eyes and his mouth leaking drool. Feitan looks peaceful, sleepy, like he hasn’t done this in a while. 
  The next morning, he’s gone with no evidence he was even there.
_________________
  You watch on the tv screen above the bank about the attack on York New, a city not too far from you. The attack happened a few days ago but it’s still in the headlines. You don’t blame them, to be honest. It was an insane event that over two thousand people died! 
  You cling onto your boyfriend’s arm. He touches your hand reassuringly. His watch gleams in the moonlight and his suit is perfectly pressed. He's the entire package, he’s perfect. A good job, good manners, an honest man, and treats you well, too. He always holds the chair out for you and gets up when you leave the room. Just like a true gentleman. 
  When you first met, it was a classic coffee shop romance. Then it blossomed into a romantic and expensive dinner, the movies, a nighttime walk in the park, all of the classic dates. In every single one of them he was the perfect gentleman, the perfect man. You like him and how he treats you. How consistent he is. He's the type of man you can rely on. 
  Nevertheless, there is a bothersome voice in the back of your head that reminds you of someone he just isn’t. He’s not Feitan Portor. You don’t feel the contentment Feitan gives when the two of you sleep. You don’t study your boyfriend’s features like you did Feitan.
Dammit, why are you thinking of him? He’s not around and you haven’t seen him in what? Two or three years? So why think of him now. Plus, you haven’t received a gift or a ‘hello’ from him. For all you know, he could be dead.
  “Are you alright?” You wake from your thoughts and look at your boyfriend. His hair is dark, blending in with the night. Eyes kind and green, a Grecian nose, and average sized lips revealing a dazzling smile. Not only is the very essence of him suave, but his looks are also perfect. Tall and handsome, well dressed and a smooth voice. 
It's just that one five foot one pest that won’t get out of your head. 
  “Y-yeah just…it’s all so shocking. York New is literally over there.” You point past the river where more tall buildings reside in the distance.
“I know, I know.” He brings you in close to him. He places a kiss on your head. “Don’t worry, nothing will happen to you.” 
Suddenly, the newscaster stops mid sentence and gasps. Before you know it, the Phantom Troupe have been named the offenders that caused all of this. Two thousand people. Feitan, did you really kill that many people?
“I would like to go home. I don’t feel the greatest.” He rubs your arm, you still being tucked into his side. Your excuse was a lie to cover the gnawing feeling towards Feitan and his deeds. Although the Phantom Troupe’s original intentions were from a decent stand point, it seems they’ve lost their way. Feitan has lost his way. 
  The gifts have stopped coming, him no longer saying hello. After the last time, when you made him familiar food and sat in a comfortable silence, he disappeared. This time, there was something about it that hurt. Like he didn’t want to come around. He didn’t want to say hello anymore. Or perhaps, he died which if confirmed, you would ache beyond help. 
  “The Phantom Troupe is dead.” The newscaster said. The crowd gasped, shocked that the most feared criminals in the world are gone. Did you jinx it? Curse the little boy who needed you to tie his shoes. The boy who liked your cooking and made sure you rested. Had strong faith in you, never doubting. Protected you from the shadows and held your hand. 
  Is he really gone? 
You hide your face in your boyfriend’s jacket. Tears stream from your eyes at the thought of his grave. With the Troupe, his friends dead, you’d be the only one to truly mourn him. To remember his name beyond his violence. 
You clutch your chest. “Are you okay? Does your chest hurt?” He grabs you by your shoulders, making you face him. He’s such a kind, decent man. But he’s not Feitan Portor. 
  “I just need to rest. I’ll call you tomorrow.” You give him a chaste kiss goodbye. Once he leaves, your chest hurts even more. You slide down as you look around at all the menace’s little gifts. The painting, the skull, the windchimes, everything he’s given you. Why, oh why, couldn’t you stay here long enough for your gift, Feitan?
Wait, what could you have given him anyway? He’s a thief that takes what he pleases and has nothing to wish for. 
You lay on your couch and put your arm over your face. The tears refuse to stop for even just a second. You don’t know what you’re crying harder for. Feitan or the confusing feelings for him. Now that he’s gone, you can’t properly tell him. How can you explain it? 
  It’s heavy on your chest and tightens it. You want to feel his body heat no matter how hot the day is. There are no small flutters in your stomach at the thought of him. No, it's something in your heart. You want to stare at him, to memorize every feature he has. To hear his soft voice that is just a centimeter away from a whisper. Just melt in his touch, his presence. Wait, why is this happening? You barely knew him! Does that fact even matter though?
 You slip your hand in your underwear, still staring at the ceiling, sniffling at the news of his death. You imagine the future. Seeing him walk into your house and setting his belongings on the table. Wrapping his arms around you and kissing your back. No matter how long you’ve known him, his stature never fails to amuse you. He’d paw at your body, tearing off your clothes. Feitan wouldn’t hesitate to use his hands for your pleasure. 
  You trace your fingers in the direction you think he’d go. Curling your fingers inside, thrusting them in harshly, knowing that he can only be gentle in his own way. Your back arches from the couch. You swear you can smell him and the faint metallic scent that he holds. The feeling of his ragged breath on your cheek you could swear is real. 
  You moan as you take that jump you’ve searched for. Thinking of how good Feitan would make you feel. You're relentless on yourself, still going as strong as he’d be. Adding another finger, going faster and faster on your clit. Your moaning gets louder as the indiscernible amount of time goes on. 
‘ The Phantom Troupe is dead.’
You crash on the couch with one last gasp. The dream of the two of you ends in flames. The house, the passion, the years that go by in that home. Maybe even a child or two. Seeing him in the morning with a groggy voice is gone. Rubbing his eyes and saying he wants more eggs and tomatoes is no longer there.
  What would your gift be to Feitan? Memories? Sex? Food? Nothing fits. He can have those with anyone. 
  You slip yourself out from your underwear. It didn’t distract you. Perhaps if you thought of your boyfriend, it would have. But the feelings you have towards Feitan went beyond physical. What is this? What do you call this?
  Love? Time stops at the realization. It has to be that. That would have been your gift to him. Love. You cover your mouth as you admit it to yourself. 
'I love you Feitan Portor. I won’t forget you. I love your messed up hair and soft voice. For how you didn’t reject me when the world did. I will do the same for you. I’ll look past your torturous ways and miss you anyway. Maybe the world will curse you, but I’ll mourn you. Bury you so no one can spit on you anymore. I love you Feitan. 
   I’m in love with you Feitan Portor. This is my gift to you. For you to know that you will not be forgotten even though I never got to tell you, to thank you for everything. For leaving the baseball bat with me to protect myself. For painting that picture for me. All of the little gifts you thought I’d like, too. Thank you for protecting me from the priest and the wolves that hunted me every day when we were young.'
You stare at the ceiling till the earliest of mornings. It’s still dark, still heavy with the night sky. There’s some rumbling in the distance, a flash of light in the sky. You don’t bother to confirm anything. 
Just as you close your eyes, the window opens with a creak. You move your eyes to see the figure before you. The darkness covers it, only leaving the silhouette. “Why cry?”
You squint, trying to make out the features.  “Are you real?”
“Very.” It must be a lie. A cruel humor the world has. “Stop crying.” 
“I can’t. Not when you sound like him.” The figure cocks his head, that much you can see with the flash of lightning behind him. “Him?”
“Someone who can’t tie his shoes.” Your lip wobbles again. “I can tie them now.” The moon glows enough to show his face now as he steps up to you. Feitan’s delicate features peek out from his cowl. 
 You shake your head in denial. “It’s not real. It can’t be. You’re dead, Fei.” Your voice is hoarse from your sobs. 
  He looks shocked at your words. The man who looks like Feitan smacks your feet off the end of the couch so he can sit. 
“I’ll miss you Feitan Portor.” The longer you stare at the imaginary man, the more you hurt. “Well, stop.”
  He roughly wipes away the tears. “Ugly when you cry.” His face is close to yours. Since he’ll be gone by the time you come to your senses, you grab his face and kiss him. He sharply inhales, not expecting your sudden decision. 
  He growls against your lips, “Stupid brat.” 
  He feels real. He smells real, familiar too. You tell him such and with furrowed brows and a strong grip of his hand, he grabs your jaw and makes you look at him. “I’m real, you idiot.”
“They said you died…” You comb his hair through your fingers. It’s real, he's real . So, what’s going on? Before you can ask him, he cradles you. “Stop crying or I’ll go.”
  Your lips wobble at his threat. Rather than listening to it, you hug him. He nestles on top of you, hips placed between yours. He’s light, lighter than you thought so it isn’t a bother.
  “You’re so ugly when you cry. Don’t cry.” He holds you closer and kisses your head. Against your ear, you feel his lips move. You can’t tell what he’s mouthing. When the two of you comfortably slept those years ago, that was the closest you’ve been. Now, this beats that record. Face to face, body to body, and sharing breaths. 
  After a few moments of thunder and lightning, he kisses you gently. Not at all like the desperate one like before. Realistically, you know these feelings you have for him seem fake. You’ve only had a few moments with him. So, why are they so significant? Are they with him too? Is it possible that love can blossom quickly?
  Gentle kisses turn passionate, never wanting to separate. Little nibbles on the right places and sucks on all of the best ones. Clothes leave, not wanting to get between the two friends, those who dance around each other. For the first time, they meet. 
His hands reach your throat as he kisses you, making sure to give it a light squeeze. His weight is still on you, not hurting in the slightest. Feitan makes sure his hand reaches below and swirls his thumb on your bud. You gasp, surprised you were right about how he’d do it. Every ministration he does is exactly how it was pictured. Your hands don’t compare to it. Not by a long shot. 
  Despite his size, his hands are still bigger than yours. They reach deeper than you and are thicker too. In no time, you come, the bliss lasting a good minute before he sheathes himself inside. His thickness is more than you thought. It’s a bit of a stretch, but in a good way. 
  His gasps quicken with every thrust. You can tell that you're being loud, way louder than when you touched yourself. Feeling the rush and strength of his movements has you claw his back in ecstasy. He groans at the sensation. Finally, after this time of passion and intimacy, you both hold each other as you fall off of that cliff.
  Feitan looks into your eyes. With a softness that no one in the world could’ve predicted the torturer of the Phantom Troupe to have, kisses you. “Don’t cry anymore. Don’t cry.”
 “It’s hard not to when I know you’ll leave.” Silently, Feitan removes himself from inside you. It’s become routine, so you expect him to walk out. He lays back down, his head on your stomach. You run your fingers through his hair. He needs a haircut. 
--
 You wake up, not realizing that you went asleep in the first place. Before you can get up, you feel pressure on your stomach. Feitan rests on you still, eyes completely closed and his face peaceful. The two of you are naked and the only source of heat is each other. As much as you want to wrap your arms around him, you know he’ll react negatively or at least flinch. 
  Soon after, he stretches and rubs his face against your stomach. Like before, he drooled in his sleep. “Good morning.” 
He grunts in response and sits up on his heels. It takes him a moment to remember the night before. His eyes widen as he looks you up and down, making you highly aware of your current state. You cover yourself with a blanket draped over the couch. 
  “I have to go.” Ah, right. He’s a cat. 
He gets dressed. Once he has his boots on, you see him tie them the way you taught him. “Proud of you. You finally learned huh?”
 “Brat.” You laugh a little at him. Once he’s done you ask, “Will I ever see you again?"
He cradles your face. “I come back.” You nod, holding back tears. He studies your face and settles on your eyes. He must have realized that you were trying not to cry. His hands still remain on your face as he kisses you. He lingers there for a minute. A parting kiss, a meaningful one. 
  Something tells you that this feral cat isn’t going away anytime soon. That he’ll always be constant and you won’t be totally alone. A companion you won’t see everyday and only for a night. 
 This is the gift you’ll give him. You’ll be home for him. 
___________________
Months later, news about the Chimera Ants came out. You had already broken up with your boyfriend and heard he had left town to avoid them. Of course, you followed suit and got the hell out of there. 
  Without any plan, you moved back to Meteor City, where you thought that they wouldn’t be. Alas, that was stupid. You made a home base in the residential area. Not knowing that Meteor City was plagued by the wretched beasts. 
  By God’s grace, you managed to avoid them due to you being in the residential district. News that the Phantom Troupe were home to fight them ran rampant. The thought of Feitan made you nervous and you don’t know why. 
  Suddenly, right as you put away your dishes, the door opened. You grabbed a knife and faced the intruder. Standing there was the Phantom Troupe, who once again, barged into your home like they owned the place. 
  “What the hell?” You shout. The first one is Phinks with a wide smile. “There she is! Fei, I found her!”
  You put your hand on your hip. “Seriously, what are you doing her-you’re dragging in mud, take off your shoes!”
 “It’s only a little.” Phinks pouts. “I don’t care! You don’t live here.” 
Phinks and his friends grumble as they do as they’re told. The last one to enter the house is Feitan, who is notably holding his left arm. Without being told, he removes his shoes. 
  “Feitan…” He hasn’t faced you yet. “What happened to your arm?” 
“I’m injured too, (Y/n)!” The smiling boy with round eyes whines. You have no idea what his name is. Only that he and the rest are in Feitan’s gang. 
  “Alright, let me see.” He lays down on your clean table and says, “It’s all over. I need the full treatment!” 
  “Ugh, fine.” You grumble under your breath about the disrespect and your poor table. Finally, Feitan sits on one of the pushed aside chairs. He says, “I need it too.”
  “Big babies.” 
You heal the biggest cry baby completely. The blond, whose name you now know as Shalnark, stretches. “If it weren’t for you, I would’ve been hurting all day!”
  Rolling your eyes, you turn to Feitan who has been silent. He holds out his arm for you. You take the limb and inspect it. 
 “Completely shattered.” He grunts in agreement. He stares into your eyes and gives you a familiar slight smile. You notice that his friends are quiet, not a sound or word among them. 
“You guys alright?” You ask. The girl shakes her head yes and ‘whispers’ to the rest. “Should we leave them alone?”
  “Probably.” A mummy with boxing gloves answers. You’ve never seen him before in your life. 
“Uh, we’ll check the place out. Y’know, make sure it’s safe.” Shalnark shoos the little kid out and into a separate room, your bedroom. “We’ll clear this out in case you guys need it!”
  You huff and roll your eyes. Feitan’s cheeks are red and he’s glaring daggers at his friends. The girl goes outside with the remaining three to check the area. You and your feral cat are alone. 
“What are they checking for? I’m in a residential area.” 
“Ants.” 
  “They’re here? In the safe zone?” You begin to panic until he grabs your hand. “You’re safe now. They’re not in the city anymore.”
“Wha-how? What’s going on?”
  He pinches you lightly, encouraging you to heal his wounds. “Oh, right, right.” Flowers of all colors circle around. They begin to smooth over Feitan’s wounds. You take a second to wipe the blood off of his lip, letting there be some room for the petals to go. 
“How’s the other guy look?”
“She's toasted.” You smile. “Atta boy.”
  He’s healed, the petals and flowers disappear. You lick your lips at the sight of his bare chest. You didn’t notice before due to the audacity of these heathens barging in. 
  His heart rate quickens. “You leave again.”
You nod. “Yeah, yeah I did. I had to, Fei. the Chimera Ants invaded. I had to run.”
“With your boyfriend?”
You let out a small gasp. “ No. How do you know that?” He crosses his arms and leans back in the chair. “You lie.”
“I didn’t lie to you. I just never said anything.”
  “Words of a liar.” You scoff at him. “I did not lie to you. I lied to him. You don’t have any business with our relationship.”
At first, he was looking at his lap. Those grey eyes of his immediately found a new target to glare at. “You’re not with him anymore. ”
“No. Why does that matter?” He begins to tap his foot lightly. “Why did you break up?” 
  “You hungry?” You start to get up until you’re tugged down. “Why?”
When you don’t answer, he whispers in your ear. “Because I fucked you?” Your face is so warm. 
“If we run, we can still make it out.”
“Why are we running?” A small voice asks.
“Because I think they need the room.” 
“Will you two shut up?!” You are two seconds away from running out of your own damn house. You stand and his hands hold you by your hips. “Tell me why you leave him?”
  “Because of you.” It’s embarrassing to tell him your feelings. Hopefully, he can read your mind or something and shut up. He sighs and stands, walking over to you without a hitch. He kisses you. 
  “That’s what you get for lying.” He’s not remorseful or even boastful. Feitan takes your answer in stride. “No more leaving. Stay so I can find you.”
“You’ll always find me, remember?”
______________
Time after that, you were stuck in charge of Chrollo’s lover or something. She’s not too bad but clearly traumatized. Anytime you’d tell her to go with you, she’d look shocked. Like she was surprised she could leave. You were suspicious of her relationship with Chrollo. Something didn’t sit right with you whenever he or Feitan came up. She’d tense up. She never talked about it either. From what you understand with the little information you have, is that she was a former member that raised an orphan and that Chrollo loved her immensely. Perhaps too much.
  From what you know, there was a big showdown on the Dark Continent and the boat that was taking a voyage to the fake one. The Phantom Troupe were on that one at first, fighting Hisoka Marrow. He was a sore loser that got humbled and decided to attack again. 
  Amazingly, only a few died. You didn’t want to know the details or anything. You can’t go through that again. So, after that news, you and Chrollo’s lover parted ways. She went on to find a kid she raised. You, on the other hand, decided to settle out of Meteor City. This was almost a year ago.
  You have an apartment now in the town where you and your boyfriend lived, right next to York New. It’s basic, not fitting any aesthetic or anything. The good thing about it is that it’s bigger than your first one. It’s two bedroom and has a good price. 
   Feitan hasn’t reappeared. It tore you to shreds. You’ve managed to piece yourself together bit by bit, but you are a hollow version of yourself. Surviving and not enjoying the little things you used to. You even saw Jade, Scarlet, Ruby, and the new child, Emerald. Even that heartwarming moment didn’t fulfill you. However, it was the first time you smiled in a while. 
  You stir the food in the pot. Since it’s a little chilly, you made soup. You put the lid over the pot, letting it cook. There’s a knock on the door. You open it and see the man you’ve waited for. 
  Feitan is in dark clothing and has a large scar on his face. There’s no cowl over him, or a large trench coat. His hands are in his pockets, and he looks at you expectantly. You realize that you’ve just been standing there, you move to let him in. Once again, he makes himself at home. 
  “How’ve you been?” 
“You leave again.” He states bluntly. His eyebrows are furrowed and has a frown on his face. 
“Bold of you, very bold.” You move around him. “Why did you go?”
“Because I’d never stay in that city forever. The Ants were gone, the world settled. So why couldn’t I? That place is gross anyway.”
  He sits on the barstool and cracks his neck. You ask a question right after he sits. “How long you here for?”
You don’t know why you asked that. He’ll only be here for a moment. A while ago, you had made the decision to accept it as your gift to him. To love and mourn him when the world won’t. When news about the Phantom Troupe hit, you couldn’t bear to hear it. Their trip to the fake Dark Continent, then their corrected course to the right one, ended in a battle with them facing Hisoka and Illumi and everything else over there. 
  It was too hard for you to think about. That doesn’t mean you didn’t mourn and that you’ve snapped out of it.
   “For good.” 
You look up into his eyes. For the first time in a long time, he’s smiling with soft eyes. You see that he has a dimple on his left cheek. “W-what about-”
“Done for a while. Maybe forever. I know I’m staying.”
   “But your friends, where are they?” He shrugs even though you see the tension. “Separate. We split for a bit.” 
  He rubs his shoulders nervously. “Can I stay with you?” 
“Wow, you’re asking? Shocked.” You tap on the counter. The weight you’ve been carrying is lightened. “Feitan?”
“Yes?” He gets off of the stool and makes his way around the counter. “You know how you give me all those gifts?”
  He nods his head. “Well, this is my gift to you, Feitan Portor. You can stay as long as you like.” 
  He wraps his arms around you. He’s hugging you. This time, you aren’t afraid to hold him back and squeeze. Maybe, just maybe, this is what home is? 
  If the Phantom Troupe resurrects, at least you know he’ll always come home. That you two will be a constant force for each other. No matter if it does or doesn't, you two aren't dancing but admitting things you couldn't. This is home, a gift for each other.  
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darkstarlight82 · 2 days
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🎥Light, Camera, Cum🎥
💦Camboy!Keigo x Fem!reader AU💦
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I never thought that I would be one of "those people". I always thought that people like that where off. But when I saw my first cam boy I was hook. My roommate got me a one month membership of any guy I wanted for my birthday and oh was it an experience. I was so nervous at first and I had no idea what I was doing and I didn't want to look anything up online.
What if the government got a hold of my search history and put me in jail for something naughty. I just started a new job and this would look so bad. I was really scared so I put on the message bored that I was new and I had no clue what to do. Their was a really very nice guy that help me browse the website.
I don't know what came over me but I asked him "Do have a link for your part of the site?" I can't believe that came out of my mouth. I was so shocked at what I said. As I was about to tell him never mind when I got a message in my DM box with his name and a link.
When I clicked on it a web cam picture popped up and what I saw on my screen made my heart fall to the floor. There sat the most handsome, sexiest, fuckabel man I have ever saw. His hair was as gold as a field of wheat. His eyes could put the most richest honey to shame and his body OMG his body. A Greek god would blush and how hard and chiseled his abs were, and with that voice of his.
I thought that I was looking into a different world. We could take our eyes off of each other. I was the first to speak. "Umm... Hi do uh umm do I call you Keigo or do I use a different name when I talk.." My rambling was cut off by his heavenly laugh. "It's okay to call me Keigo my little song bird. If that is what you want to call me?" His voice was soft like velvet and smooth like silk.
I couldn't think straight, my mind was all mush. "I feel more comfortable with your name. Now I have a question and I want you to be honest with me. Can other people see us or is this just us on this link?" He gave me another heavenly laugh. "No song bird it's just you and me. It's like we are in a chat room. No one can see or hear us. Now I do have a room where it's a live feed, I have a donation box that shows the user and the amount they give me, but they can't chat with me unless they send me a DM." When I took a better look and what I could see of his room I could see that he has a lot of different toys and clothes. "Is all that from your donations from your other clients?" When he turned his head to look behind him my body froze and I felt my puss start to water. The muscles of his neck and side flexed in such a way, I had to bite me lip to quite the moan that left my lips.
And I kid you not. I saw his body shivering and his ears turn pink. 'Oh shit did he hear me. Fuck that was hot.' He cleared his throat and turned back you me. "Yes and no. A lot are from sponsors and others are from fans." Knowing what he does I know I should have expected that but for some reason that made me uncomfortable. "Oh well that's understandable." He could tell someone was off so he changed the subject real quick. "So....tell me a little something about yourself song bird." I could tell he was trying to pull me away from the awkward moment we just had. "Well was their anything you want to know, I'm an open book."
He made himself a little more comfortable at his chair. "What is the reason your here. A cute little thing doesn't happen to just show up it of the blue?" I shifted in my seat a bit felling a bit embarrassed. "My roommate got me a one month membership to see if I was going to like something like this." He leaned in his chair closer to the monitor. "Oh really what a nice friend. You want to know something? That's kind of hot." The way the word "hot" rolled of his tongue send a shiver down my spine. His words were like silk to me. "So let me guess you want to use you membership on me for the whole month?" I sat myself straight in my chair. I looked dead at the screen into his honey riched eyes, readying my resolve. "You better believe it and with how much I don't know what I'm doing you better go easy on me."
Again I swear I saw him shiver. "Alright my little song bird I will so nice...(I saw him rub is hand down his chest) and easy. My eyes where glue to the screen. His hands moved ever so softly over his body. "Hey song bird how about we go to somewhere more comfortable?" I looked at him a little nervous. He gave the oh so heavenly laugh. "I mean let's move to over beds. This will be a little more enjoyable for us both." I swallowed hard and shook my head 'yes' ready fast. "I guess someone is really eager." He said as he got himself onto his bed. Seeing him lay their his legs spread, in his black boxer-briefs shirtless his right hand on his thigh and his left hand one his abs, I stared to feel myself start to get wet.
"Don't you think your a little over dressed? Making feel like I'm some piece of meat. What a bad girl. If that doesn't change, I don't think you will get this present I have for you." He said to me as I see him take his hand and palm his self over his boxers. And to this day I still don't know how the hell I managed to get undressed so fast. Now as I say their in nothing but my bra and panties the whole experience was so real and I never felt more alive. "Is this better Keigo?" As his eyes ran over my body I could see his cock jump and become harder. "My god song bird your beautiful." He said as I watched him slip his hands into his boxers and started to rub himself. His words pulled something in my belly as I moved my heads to my breasts pulled softly as my harding nipples.
"Oh~ fuck song bird I'm the one that's supposed to get you all hot and bothered. Fuck this is new." I moved my hand down my stomach down to my pussy taking my fingers and rubbing them over my covers clit. "Fuck Keigo I'm so wet what do you want me to do?" Keigo's eyes blew wide with lust and need. "Shit that's my line but fuck that was hot. Touch yourself and tell me how good it feels." Keeping my eyes locked on the screen watching him go faster up and down on his cock I put my hand down my panties and ran my middle finger over my slit. "Oh holy fuck that feels good." He slowly removed his boxer. "Take off for panties and let me see how much fun your having." I shook my head and took them off and turned to the camera.
"How's this?" I asked as I put my fingers in to my hole. "Ohhh fuck that a good girl. So nice." I moan loudly at his praise. He moved his hand faster now as his tip leaked heavily with pre-cum. "Well shit (his voice was coming out in short breaths) someone has a praise kink. That is so sexy let me hear more my sweet little song bird. So good for me." I yelled out again. "Fuck fuck fuck Keigo this is amazing oh God." I could feel myself getting close and I wanted to see the god-like being in front of we reach his end and I wounded how pretty he would be. "Oh holy fuc..I'm cumming Keigo I'm cumming." He had his eyes fixed on me now watching as I squirted hard. "Oh shit song bird say my name again please be good for me and say it again." I felt myself cum again at his words "Oh Keigo yes.. so good for you fuck Keigo Keigo KEIGO!" As I came again I watched as this god of a man shot thick white ribbons of cum all over his abs and hand.
As I watched him clean himself up I had to ask him. "Why do you do this. You seem like a smart guy can't you find anything better?" He looked at me a little confused. "Well yeah I work at the college that's down the street from my house. I'm a professor their. 'Well shit I didn't peg him as that smart.' "I you don't mind me asking what school do you teach at?" I asked him as I was putting my clothes back on. "Oh I work at UA state. I'm the animal biology teacher." My heart hit the floor and I could feel the color leave my face. "No you can't be...." "Yeah I just start working their on Friday it was a bummer that I couldn't meet the Into to human science teacher. I hear she was really cute." As I looked at the screen I saw the most sexiest but terrifying shit eating grin on his face. "Trust me Y/N your secret is safe with me. I just hope that my little song bird will see me this weekend at my place and reenact what happened tonight."
That was when I first met my now husband and ex-camboy experience.
@arlerts-angel @side-blog-for-fics @tokyo-chainsaw-dragon @tomuraslut @i-literally-cant-with-this @tootiecakes234 @ambassadorarlert @katkusuo @katie91239 @xxj-t @romantichomicide95 @tired-teacher-blog @astriddestelle @sweetchildcloud @bleach-your-panties @pamakali @tojilovr @k1ssyoursister @lucysarah-c @xdyrknymphx @seireiteihellbutterfly @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @sixpennydame @shonen-brainrot @kazutora-kurokawa
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kicktwine · 5 months
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oh so alisaie’s exaggerated bully behavior is 80% fanon. saying this she casually picks up a large rock
#say one thing wrong to me and you will have a wonderful few days with the rock#if angry silly girls have 100 fans etc if they have 0 fans i have died#sorry i saw a YouTube meme i vehemently disliked on principle and got mad at the only child behavior-#kipspeak#she is just short tempered and uses anger to mask other more ‘shameful’ emotions!!! alphy did the same thing with just deciding not#to express them. which is still not good and I think why he breaks and ends up teary so often now#this shortness does not translate to actually being mean to people. she only uses being mean as a shield for herself and being snarky#Is just fun for her. it’s fun for Me. you have to inconsequentually tease people or they’ll never learn to laugh at themselves#the twins and thancred 🫵 do this thing where they have big emotions but they don’t want anyone to SEE they have big weird emotions#so alphy pretends he doesn’t have them under a veneer of dignity and alisaie pretends the emotions are Something Else. thancred is#just so emotionally constipated he has trouble expressing anything. he’s got enough baggage for a flatbed#anyways. alisaie is such a compassionate and kind girl and she learned how to make snarky jokes and went ham. and she hates appearing sad o#weak or vulnerable so she blocks it off with an unapproachable emotion so no one pities her and they maybe get on with the plot#it is in fact also great at getting ppl to move away from the sad or embarrassing topic. even if the tradeoff is being more offputting#she would never (grabs youtube meme) she would never seriously bully her brother. this is sibling ribbing only. Cain instinct#just leave her be she is learning how to snark humor and she loves it she loves being sharp. alphy has wit he just keeps it close#my brother didn’t learn how to tell or receive a joke until he was 14 he took everything so seriously. he can do it now though and he’s#HILARIOUS. Don’t tell him I said that. my man knows exactly where the funny points are even if he hasn’t learned when to stop yet#too many tags. Whatever. jokey snark alisaie who sometimes compliments is happy alisaie grouchy snappy angry alisaie is way too stressed#very easy way to tell between the two. even alphy can tell between the two I believe! He tends to rib back in protest if they’re having fun#and try to stop her if they’re not having fun. case in point ‘what is that supposed to mean?!’ vs ‘alisaie ryne was only trying to help.’#I know they’re twins but that’s such an intensely older sibling thing to do that it reels me#LONG TAGS AND THREE EDITS TO ADD ON SHORT I resent this stereotype taken too far into ooc behavior. it happened with nya#It will happen again and as a postscript let me regale you with Things U Can Notice About Character Motivation and Actions—#I’m not done let me s#she and raha are friends now I decree. ‘haha you like me’ SPUTTERING PROTEST FROM BOTH
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puppyeared · 4 months
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i feel shy talking here when i dont have anything worth sharing but i cant help feeling like ive said things in the tags that could be brought up in court
#im joking#i think i just get embarrassed saying smth that most ppl can see out in the open. its like when prey animals are grazing in a pasture#and then they hear a twig snap yk. im like that. but talking in the tags is more comfortable because it just feels more.. hidden?? quiet???#its kind of like how i prefer responding thru asks than DMs.. idk if it has something to do with space or less pressure#i also use these as an excuse to ramble a little abt recent events so. ive worked a little bit on shuffle and prestos backstories ^_^#i was thinking abt giving them a shared past where they knew each other as kids and forgot but i also though hmm.. idk if it would drive th#story i want bc i think itd be better if they bonded over similar experiences instead of the fact that they knew each other before. i get#that reconnecting and reconciling your idea of someone now and then is a good concept but id have to think abt it.. i dont want it to feel#like they owe each other to be friends again just bc they were as kids. ive experienced that a lot and all it did was make me feel guilty#so i think id want to write it as u can be friends with someone who had similar experiences and make u wish you knew each other then#i also know theyd hate each other but idk HOW. i suck at writing conflict so idk if theyd try to make each other eat glass and why#idk if itll ever come up but id also like to see if theres a way i could rationalize why they have animal ears.. normally i say aliens#but ive had an idea for a species and background for that too. although its very abstract and it probably has a lot of holes#smth abt peoples souls attaching themselves to smth they identify with.. although i dont know to what extent like if it can#be called a sona or if it can even be smth mythical like a unicorn or god itself.. its very weird rn#yapping#oc talk
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myfriendtheghost · 1 year
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I wish this side of the fandom was known for more than smutty fanfics 🥲
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criscura · 4 months
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I wish I wasn't so exhausted and I could make more art.... I even planned out a whole prompt-a-day month for Saigenos/Genosai, TWICE, but the first time no one seemed like they could participate when I asked about it, and the second time I friggin lost the damned plan. I could remake it a third time, but I just....I don't know.
I've been really struggling to get along for a while, and I think if it didn't hit it off--or even if I just got really productive and it seemed like I was reaching crickets--I'd be so incredibly discouraged that it would bring me down even further. It usually takes my stuff a few months to a year to get reach, and that really doesn't do anything for me when I need the support immediately.
It's not that I don't have a billion ideas for so many different things, but my battery has been taking longer and longer to charge up and it's been running out faster and faster, and it's been like this for....a year?? Ish?? Maybe longer, I don't know.
I wish I could just stop needing so much fucking time to bounce back.....
#written from my bed as I'm almost crying from exhaustion and hopelessness#I'm PMSing and I had a really tiring day so i know this feels worse than normal#but when you've been struggling to fall asleep for months because waking up means being disappointed in yourself#for everything you failed to do the day before and everything you know you're going to fail to do again today#it's really hard not to feel like shit about yourself#trying to be constantly hopeful but never living up to your expectations#and then the few times that you do you completely crash for days#and then the only way to not crash is to have your big accomplishment be 'i went to the gym' 'i took a shower' 'i answered a message'#and just. again#to have the be the way you're living for months and months and months#it's so embarrassing to admit how little i can do and it makes me so ashamed knowing how much I've done and see what everyone else around me#is constantly doing#and then when i do share things it just kind of dies off because I've been too exhausted to maintain most relationships#which ALSO makes me feel like absolute fucking shit because i think people think i just don't care about them#when it's really that it takes me hours to get out of bed and I'm lucky if i remember to eat before 4#and I hate so much of myself and see it as such a huge waste of time that it uses up almost all the energy i have to take care of myself#but if i don't do it I'll just hate myself even more#i know i keep on complaining about this but I'm. I'm trying to fix it#i have BEEN trying to fix it actively for so fucking long#but it's.....i think I've stopped believing anything i do has significant worth and it makes it hard to keep trying#and i know people will read this and say take something for it but when you're only interactions with medications and drugs#are one experience that scarred you so bad you didn't go to the doctors for ten years and one experience so bad#that you couldn't even explain it at first without HARDCORE disassociating#it's hard to convince yourself that anything will ever be any better and that it won't make everything intensely worse for years
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dirt-str1der · 1 year
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I dont get why in some kazumaji fics people make majima the jealous boyfriend when he seems quite eager (maybe not eager but willing) to matchmake his love interests with other people. Jealous boyfriends would be people like mine or yuya who is like a rabid animal when people look at daigo or kazuki respectively
#Yakuza loveblog#see if daigo went out with a girl mine would be like Shes not good enough for you sir plus i ran a background check on her and heres the#dirt i dug up. any would be an apropriate reason to break up with her#if kiryu was seeing a girl majima would be like OOHHHH GOOD CHOICE SHES REALLY HOT I BET YOU GUYS HAVE SEX EVERY NIGHT while kiryu is#literally in the middle of having sex with him. sorry i keep saying having sex its a very apt phrase to use when two people are fucking#i see a shiba inu wow this is just like yakuza#majima is not a jealous boyfriend because hes convinced that hes a troublesome person#he only trusts saejima to deal with that because they signed up for this troublesome life together and by god they will exit it together#ill fuck you until youre satisfied so you wont get homesick#majima likes kiryu a lot but not enough to impose that much on him in That Way its simply better if kiryu doesnt care about him#i like them a lot because its like both of them are kind of pining but also they think the other doesnt like them THAT much so im not going#to make things awkward by cementing their relationship. they dont want to be clingy because also thatll be embarrassing#like kiryu doesnt bother to ask because he knows(?) majima will laugh at him and call him childish like damn man up#majima knows(?) that kiryu simply isnt That into him but the poor sap might be too nice and shackle himself into an arrangement with him#which is the last thing he wants. well not the being in a relationship part. the shackling kiryu part#he thinks kiryu is this beautiful wild horse that wants to roam the better world and kiryu thinks majima is this beautiful wild horse that#cant be satisfied with just him alone
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electrobiology · 13 days
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(same anon) okay wait first of all disclaimer the jokes about dazai + suicide do definitely exist and are a very loud + unavoidable part of bsd! it's often played for laughs, it's just that underlying it is: a huge part of bsd is the theme of suicide + the worth of living, and it shows up time and time again with even minor characters, and it's simultaneously... not a joke. and to me the comedy doesn't cancel out that it has been clearly and deliberately factored into dazai as a character to be so performative about this. (i do also think that like. the jokes feel more like they are coming from the inside of someone whose struggle with suicidal ideation is a large part of their worldview than they feel... mean-spirited? which makes a difference to me)
obligatory note the fandom as a whole is like. it's fair to engage w the fandom more than canon (have definitely done that with different pieces of media!) but looking at you so seriously and going i'm so sorry the fandom is so so evil in comparison to canon. which is not to say anything except that if you ever end up picking up more of bsd i would recommend going in with minimal preconceived notions— i have a lot of issues with popular fanon, though i would not be as bothered by it (-> it is like. pretty standard cookie-cutter fanon dedicated to a juggernaut m/m ship) if i were not so fond of bsd in its original form as i am. i can definitely elaborate on that i just think i would end up typing much more of an essay in ur askbox.
anyway: once again super valid to take issue with the original premise of the manga but would be interested to see what you think overall if you pick up bsd again!
i see about the dazai stuff... it never seemed mean-spirited to me, the issue i have with it personally is more so the very real repercussions dazai's suicide irl had on so many people as i mentioned before & how kind of callous it always seemed to me? but if as you said it ties more into themes from the series on life/death/etc + like actual commentary other than purely some weird kind of comedy relief (what i thought it was) there's more room for discussion i think. although i'll always find it a little distasteful i think similar to my feelings about the entire premise of the manga lol,
i hear too about the fandom............ i mostly engage with fandom in general through fic rather than actual like fandom spaces & that was largely the case with bsd too (i read fic for it before i did anything else which is something i've done for quite a few other things too) & no one wants to know the pain i have inflicted upon my dear friend blowing up her messages complaining about The Issues so many of them have (even as i read them anyway...), and if i'm picking up what you're putting down then in particular those about the ship you mention... i haven't delved that deep into fandom discussion on tumblr, mostly just looked at art, but what i've picked up has been, well, ,,,
in any case knowing for sure there is more to it than the horrors of the fandom is reassuring....
#i didn't want to put this in the main text because who knows what could happen but when i went through fic there was like#an honestly incredible amount of embedded sexism in the way so many people wrote Those Guys#plus so many more issues. i can't go into the rage i was once capable of because i haven't read anything but my bookmarks in a long while#one of the worst fandoms i think i've ever seen wrt reading comprehension/actual engagement with the original media#and i have read quite a lot from some awful fandoms#i always thought personally with bsd that it would be easier for me to deal with i guess if they just used like fictional characters from#the authors writing or something like that. oba yozo from nlh or nick from gatsby or whatever#the logistics of that with copyright and stuff would probably be hell though#although i am pretty sure there are like gacha games that do that i swear to god i've seen anime boy (or girl?) raskolnikov somewhere#i read orv a couple years ago and there was some pretty crazy stuff in there too like having sun wukong and the christian angels or#whatever just There but because they were fictional i was able to just be kind of like well whatever it's happening and that's that#or as fictional as you see myth/religion#but anyway beyond logistics maybe it would change his message or something. i don't really know without having read it#also i would like to apologise again for my horrible opinions#honestly embarrassed anyone saw that post in the first place i say lots of unimportant thoughtless things
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rosieposiepie · 4 months
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Watching the new Percy Jackson episode, and while by no means is the show perfect, I do love how they updated the blending of Greek mythology and the American Gothic for social commentary.
What I mean is Echidna, the mother of monsters, is some respectable-looking vaguely southern white woman who is able to convince the police on the train that three kids shattered a train window and used those institutions to isolate the kids so she can target them and scare them for the chimera's hunt. The way that the police especially treat Annabeth. Now, as a young black girl, she has to know how to ask if they're getting arrested, and gets called out by the police for her tone.
And then, at the St. Louis Arch, we see Grover upset because of the museum, which is basically a monument to Manifest Destiny (literally, there's a shot where the words are in full display in the background). And while they say, "Grover is upset because he doesn't like it when people hurt animals," they explicitly depict America's colonization and destruction of indigenous communities as The Bad Thing. It adds another layer of flavor for the whole "Pan is missing" - it's not just about Climate Change. It's about the extermination of indigenous groups (the centaurs they saw on the train, the reminder that there used to be more of them until humans started killing them). They say "humans" are bad, but they're showing us Western/American colonizers.
Also, a rare yet interesting moment of conflict between Annabeth as a daughter of Athena and Grover as a Satyr. Annabeth insists that the museum's commodifying and glorifying of American colonization is "not what the arch is actually about, it's about architecture and math," but Athena is the goddess who protects social institutions and a patron goddess of the state, law, order, industry, and war. The Industrial Revolution and Western social institutions definitely contributed to colonialism; just saying. We also see in this episode that Athena can be arrogant and cruel - letting a monster go after her own daughter because she was embarrassed.
Anyway, idk. Maybe I'm overthinking this but these were the things that popped out to me on first watch, and now that I think about them more, I would love a continuation of these kinds of themes and tropes in future seasons, if we get them.
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nezuscribe · 7 months
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𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
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pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?
warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it
word count: 10.9K (whoops)
note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3
jjk masterlist
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never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything. 
you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights. 
his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to. 
and he seems to despise you.
you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore. 
he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you. 
but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back. 
you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three. 
but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed. 
he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything. 
after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up. 
and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you. 
ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans. 
you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him. 
not that it mattered now. 
all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.
you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip. 
whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.
any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry. 
he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away. 
you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else. 
“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes. 
“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left. 
it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer. 
sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up. 
for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity. 
but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from. 
“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples. 
“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone. 
you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged. 
he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies. 
he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle. 
it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak. 
“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife. 
if only you knew.
“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long. 
you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say. 
“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you. 
“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it. 
“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features. 
and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show. 
“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk). 
he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.
“just tell them the truth.” 
the truth. 
tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up. 
tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were. 
tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms. 
tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms. 
tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position. 
you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.
“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.” 
you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.
the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind. 
you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy. 
“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him. 
you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position. 
but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.
“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door. 
“i don’t-”
“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway. 
you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself. 
---
the feast of clans came earlier than you expected. 
you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered. 
you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury. 
“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.
“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.” 
he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside. 
“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating. 
you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen. 
“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate. 
“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such? 
“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”
gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you. 
“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement. 
“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”
the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away. 
you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking. 
“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless. 
gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite. 
“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic. 
“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”
“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.” 
you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind. 
a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.
“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”
“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly. 
“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this. 
“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”
your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.
“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it. 
“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you. 
you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around. 
“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile. 
“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response. 
“if you want to hide, i’ll-”
“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!” 
a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.
“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.” 
you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families. 
“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch. 
“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other. 
“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh. 
“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you. 
his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature. 
“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded. 
you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance. 
you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl. 
she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions. 
she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls. 
you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat. 
you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you. 
you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.
---
gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him. 
“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress. 
“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down. 
you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead. 
so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other. 
once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo. 
you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased. 
though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation. 
“what you saw last night-”
“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.” 
“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either. 
“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables. 
“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words. 
“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.” 
you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it. 
you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck. 
leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you. 
you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so. 
it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him. 
“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door. 
your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else. 
“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door. 
you didn’t answer, still, waiting. 
“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door. 
“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit. 
you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table. 
“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.
a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing. 
---
gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day. 
it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy. 
you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time. 
when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned. 
“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down. 
“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks. 
“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet. 
“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you. 
your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis. 
you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.
sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders. 
myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing. 
until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window. 
“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.
his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw. 
he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance. 
“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her. 
the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had. 
“are you alright?” 
you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being. 
he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either. 
“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly. 
“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you. 
“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.” 
“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you. 
“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.” 
“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable. 
“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”
you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three. 
“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure. 
“you are my wife-”
“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. 
gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back. 
“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man. 
“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.  
he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. 
he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks. 
“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.” 
you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self. 
“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you. 
“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself. 
“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint. 
he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw. 
“what do you mean?” 
you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin. 
“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”
“letters? what letters?” 
you glance at him, taking in his shaking form. 
“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”
his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing. 
“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.” 
the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement. 
“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks. 
“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.” 
you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words. 
“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you. 
“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations. 
“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face,  twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-” 
“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull. 
“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-” 
“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.” 
you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones. 
“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago. 
“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.” 
a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it. 
“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face. 
“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself. 
“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.” 
he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters. 
you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided. 
it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours. 
it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined. 
“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love. 
“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness. 
he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you. 
“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder. 
“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again. 
“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin. 
“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name. 
“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could. 
“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them. 
“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did. 
“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one. 
“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours. 
“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago. 
“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it. 
“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.
“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”
“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips. 
you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move. 
his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give. 
your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch. 
“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds. 
“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin. 
“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face. 
his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.
“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him. 
“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down. 
he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this. 
but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you. 
you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.
he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.
he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping. 
“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most. 
“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.” 
he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye. 
his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck. 
it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be. 
his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall. 
“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response. 
“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more. 
his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more. 
he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit. 
“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision. 
you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo. 
“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.
“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 
you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over. 
when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces. 
he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest. 
“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?” 
he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you. 
“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.” 
you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you. 
“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that. 
“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.
“and then?” 
your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face. 
“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs. 
“and then?” 
“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.” 
“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking. 
“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain. 
“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves. 
“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.
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neverendingford · 9 months
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#tag talk#okay I think one of the things I love most about the specific kind of furry art that I follow is that so much of it involves big smiles.#the pieces that make my brain light up and buzz are often the ones with characters unabashedly grinning#even pieces that feel a little samey and unoriginal are easily redeemed by a character shamelessly smiling happily#people don't smile enough. somehow I'm usually considered an outlier with how much I smile#sometimes if I've been having a bad couple of weeks when I bounce back my face will hurt with how much I smile because the muscles are stiff#but like. people need to smile more. I remember in high school I deliberately worked on finding beauty in everything.#worked on seeing people and thinking nice things about them. Wishing well for them.#idk if I just fell into my natural tendency or managed to psychology myself while at my most vulnerable. but either way it worked for me#anyway. peace and love and happiness on planet earth because we all have the ability to smile lovingly at people we don't even know#we have the ability to be patient when people get embarrassed at mistakes they make. the ability to forgive when someone accidentally hurts#but don't ever forget the ability to stare coldly and harshly into the eyes of a malicious asshole who knows they're being rude and mean.#that's a very important skill to hold onto#if we're made in a god's image then surely we should remember that we have the capacity to destroy malicious people same as it can#but the world grows on connection. we build up using love. and would you not rather be happy? I know I would
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