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strangerfigs · 2 years

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Can we please stop believing these leaks you guys? I’m so tired. I’m going to set myself on fire. Like, they are all saying different things. Anyone can make anything up. And most importantly, it’s not canon, until its canon. Like when it is aired. Like, the critics have not even seen Stranger Things yet? And what I think is funniest about the leakers is that they go back and forth on how many details they’d like to share on subjects like “I’m not gonna say anything more on that” like why?!? You’ve already spoiled so much, why not just expose everything? Where is the logic in that?! Seriously.

What we should focus on, instead, is what is canon and what’s happened in the show! That’s all we are sure of, and there is a lot of evidence that points towards a win!! Be happy about that. Fuck the leaks. Let’s just focus on the show. And in my mind, Mike is repressed, and will eventually come out, even if it’s not in canon, and then he will end up with Will, the end, so it doesn’t matter anyways. Thank you. JK I really hope it happens but I’m serious. I will just tell myself he is repressed and will be repressed until his early twenties, just as I was because that literally happens, all the time, especially in the 80’s Okay, ahem. So, I already made a post on my personal predictions, but it was not at all explained, and also ended on a joke, so here goes, my predictions… explained and expanded. I am going to put it under the cut because this about to be hella long. I’m mostly gonna focus on season 4 things

M*leven is set up to break up, most likely Eleven breaking up with Mike.

Let’s just go ahead and tally the reasons, honestly.

i) “from el” just. enough said.

ii) el is gaining independence, autonomy, and maturing, and her arc is completely separate from mike this season, like - it’s about herself? We see in the first episode, how much of her world revolves around, Mike - like the shrine she has for him (i cringed) and the fact that she asked agela to tell mike that she was just joking around, like, why? That is not normal, or healthy, but ok, whatever, another time and post for that. Also, just the parrarrel of Mike and Brenner? That’s - not a great parrarrel to have. Both of them saying, ‘what did you do?’ like bro, come on. It’s giving - toxic relationship. Eleven feels like she needs Mike and while their relationship can be cute! It can! Don’t hex me, it’s toxic and it’s always going to be unhealthy, like Eleven needs to grow on her own. Even in Lenora, she did not grow on her own, instead she focuses on lying to Mike, basing her her world around him, and using him as a scapegoat to be happy, which is so typical with relationships when you have a past of trauma, especially with family/caregivers, like romantisize partners/future partners and idolize them to the point where it’s not real (and i know people have mentioned her idolizing and romantising her relationship with mike before but it just make so much sense with her past i had to bring it up). When you grow up in an environmemnt where you have no one, you fantasize about the idea of having that special person to love and take care of you. El returns to Mike after she loses her powers and after she loses Hopper. That’s when she says I love you to him. Eleven has been through so much, and even if Byler does not happen, I really, truly hope M*leven break up, because Eleven deserves to figure out who she is out of Mike’s eyes. Like Max said before. Mike was her first friend, person who took care of her, and their relationship, or friendship, I mean, I hope and think should forever be bonded but it’s so so so unhealthy, like please, please, please just - please, I need them to not. Plus she is a lesbian, so.

vi) lack of anything eleven related in his room, while el has a shrine for him. ‘Oh, he just isn’t sentimental’, no. He has drawings from Will in his bed room and in his basement, that he canonically switches out.

v) the music that played during their big fight scene has only been played when associated with death

vi) Mike is a pretty optimistic/idealistic character, he is usually not the one to give up, such as, will’s disappearance/“death”, el’s disappearance, defeating the mind flayer, trusting will to still be on their side, when eleven broke up with him, he did not take that as a break up - he knew they would get back together, etc etc etc, the literally only time i can think of when he was not optimistic about an outcome was when he did not want el to use her powers in season 3, and he was worried for her, and guess fucking what? The kid was literally right!! El lost her powers! ! ! And that really fucked with her head… like he was legit right, and maybe he lost faith with will being alive and eleven being alive for a split second, but that was at his lowest point with it - when they literally found will’s ‘body’ and also after nearly a year of trying to reach el, like he is not someone to just give up quickly and admit defeat, he is a planner! Yet, here we have their fight, their first real fight, and he has already been acting weird towards her, like it’s obvious she’s way happier to see him than he is to see her, and such, and he says, “i don’t think it’s a fight you can come back from.” Like, just - is just ? Ready to kick in the towel. We do not see his whole, ‘I’m going to fix this’ attitude or ‘everything will be fine’ attitude. The only similar attitude he has is when Hopper tells him to put space between himself and Eleven, like he surrenders to that pretty easily (which is more evidence toward Boyer but I’m not talking about that rn). And even in that case, he is still sure that things will be fine between him and El. It’s stressful, yeah, but he’s trying to win her back, he’s ‘trying’ to get her back, and it’s obvious from the start that is his intention, and he definitely does not think it’s the end of their relationship. So, his attitude is fishy here. It’s defeatist and that’s not him… which really shows to me, that he doesn’t want to be in the relationship anymore, but he also does not want it to end because he is scared, and because he does care about her (as a friend) but you typically do not stay friends with exes, and also because he probably feels that he should want the relationship, so it would be so much better if el dumped him, because then it’s like, he is way too scared to pull the cord himself, and if el does it then its like, well, what can you do? Even though that’s never his attitude with anything, and he is overall an optimistic and idealist person, and he even calls himself a ‘self-pitying idiot’ because of how he is acting because it’s very out-of-character of him

viii) “i didn’t know what to say”, enough said.

ix) mike literally nods when will says, ‘sometimes people don’t like the truth’ like. bye.

x) “you know what i think of you” enough said. “you’re the most incredible person in the world” = impersonal. she saved the world twice, which he pointed out to dustin, anyone would agree with this probably, she is a “super hero” as mike points out.

Mike is Repressing His Feelings for Will

i) airport scene - no one, no one acts that weird around someone. the camera, literally just focuses more on this interaction than m*leven’s. mike literally jumps like 5 separate times throughout s4 when he is staring at will, this is one of these times, by argyle. mike literally jumps. it is the first of many. he also literally just hugged dustin… like the day before. he went a year without seeing el, and it wasn’t awkward, was it, like they literally started dating right after, yet… will has been his friend for 10 years, and you’re going to tell me that 6 months apart did that… no. no. no. no. like the only logically explanation is repressed gay feelings. and i, as someone who has a lot of gay feelings, can confirm. one time i was changing in front of my friend, and we were both in our underwear, and i said, i don’t feel weird when it’s just me with my clothes off, or you with your clothes off, but it’s weird when we both do, you know? she didn’t know. she is not queer. i didn’t accept, or even, like… acknowledge my queerness until so so so many years later, like at least five, and yet this stuff happened to me all the time.

ii) again, mike nods when will says it’s hard to open up because sometimes people don’t like the truth - they live in small town in the 80’s that robin has vocally said multiple times now, esp in her podcast, that you are not allowed to be different and the only way to survive if you are different is to act normal.

iii) his behavior is as fake as his shirt, and we really only see him when he softens up around will as he comforts him. He is not this way either while he is in Hawkins, like… he’s himself there.

iv) he is in D&D club again, he misses will

v) the way he looks at will. enough said.

vi) robin puts emphasis on looking around nancy’s room, and making judgements based on her because of room. in jonathon’s room, there is a picture of him and nancy, in eleven’s room, she has a shrine of mike, when bob died, joyce kept the ‘super bob’ picture on the fridge, mike has will’s drawings in bedroom, no pictures of el, and also has will’s drawings in his basement. weird. weird how it’s romantic for everyone else but not mike. oh yeah, jonathon also looks at a picture of him and nance in his room.

vii) emphasis on ‘we’re friends, we’re friends’

viii) his monologue to will. feeling like he lost him. speaking nervously, stating things twice again, telling him his home of Hawkins, is not the same without him = it’s not home without you, you’re my home, and literally bringing his other friends into it, like comparing him to them, because why was that necessary if it’s just platonic, like mike specifically in season 1 says they are all his best friends, so why, why compare them now or rank them? like you cannot tell me that’s not what he is doing in that scene, you can just not, like that is what he means 100%, and then him saying, ‘maybe i was worrying too much about el’ like, yes, maybe you were, maybe she is the puppy that you took in, as the duffer brothers supplied, and you were worried about her moving halfway across the country without her powers, after her dad just died, and she is always struggling, where at least, hey, will had his family, and he was safer outside of hawkins, like that’s just literal common sense, like maybe if he’d just let himself feel, he’d feel his feelings for will, but mike is a caring person who cares deeply about his platonic friends like when he nearly jumped off a cliff for dustin, so of course he is worried about el! mike is a leader, he looks out for his pack, and he was worried about el because yeah, her life was not the best when she left, where for will, california was maybe safer for him…?? mike feels safest and most calm and happiest around will though, but he holds too much guilt, and also, el literally saved will, and gave him back to her, like their is a trauma bond there, and he feels like he owes her, just how she feels like she owes him for taking her in, and they think that’s romantic love, but it’s not, it’s not, i tell you !! but will is his priority, like, he just is, in season 1 and 2 we saw it, in season 3, yes he was ignoring him, but honestly, the second that he thinks will is upset with him, will is his priority, he bike rides in the rain, drags lucas with him, and pounds on the door, apologizing and calling himself an asshole, while refusing to even consider what he did wrong with el, like as sadistic as this is, i almost feel like mike needs to be in a situation where both will and el are in grave danger, but then i was thinking about it, and we sort of already have, like he just gets her back, in season 2, he does not say a word against her closing the gate, even though he fears losing her again to this but he knows its for will, and he can’t lose him, and sure, sure of course he’d wanna do anything to save his bff, but it’s just interesting to see that switch in s3 where he is pushing her to not use her powers because he is scared of losing her even though, she kind of need to do that in order to save them all. And sure they have more time to develop since, and maybe his feelings grew more, but like. it’s interesting that those parallels even exist, like - idk i just think this concept, and their love triangle is so goddamn obvious, that it makes me want to scream and bite off my own head somehow because like. how do people not see it. how.

[I could definitely discuss more but just go read the byler bible proof slides]

Anyways, I am done.

#Byler #stranger things

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sambeawesome · 10 months

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Is there a wrong or right way to learn to draw

I was told to keep practicing to learn anatomy by class mode by learning through timing in 30 seconds and that i could learn by learning to draw realistic or that there is a mode I need to draw. I just draw by practicing to draw humans but have no goal. This is how I’m learning to draw humans Just drawing til I like it. Should I have goal? When I draw in 30 days? Or by a time period and then plan it out each time. For learning like is there any correct way to draw? To like your style and reach a professional level?

You're welcome to take my opinions with a grain of salt, since I know I'm more of an outlier when it comes to this topic but--there is no right or wrong way to learn to draw.

Basically, my rule when it comes to drawing and learning is: are you having fun? Yes? Then you're doing it right.

Can you learn to draw by doing figure drawings, anatomy studies, muscle break-downs, etc. Most definitely! I've done lots of studies like that, they can be very helpful.

Can you also learn to draw by jumping from thing to thing, style to style, medium to medium? I mean, if you've seen my art, then you know, haha. I'm not an expert at any one thing, but I'm not too shabby at a lot of things.

From your ask, but feel free to correct me if I'm misunderstanding, it sounds like you're doing what you think you're supposed to do, which can be fine. But if you're not enjoying it, I do want to bring attention to that. It's okay to not study and just draw. It's okay to fiddle around, make junky art, or just explore.

I didn't used to do studies or proper practice--my art journey started with me just drawing my favorite characters because I wanted to draw them. Will it take longer to "get good" this route? Probably. Someone could definitely reach my level much faster than I did (plus, the resources available now are MUCH more plentiful than when I first started!).

But is it about getting good fast? Or is it about getting enjoyment out of life? You could absolutely hunker down and do studies for hours every day, and you could get pretty good pretty fast. But make sure you ask yourself if it's worth it. Stuff like that isn't sustainable for long periods if you hate it. And if you hate it, you might end up teaching your brain to hate art. And I'd MUCH rather you be less good at art, but happy, than be really good, but miserable.

That said, you can definitely set whatever goals you wish. If that helps motivate you and make things fun, then absolutely do it! And as for "liking your style", imo, this is more of a current mindset thing. Just like with 'liking your art'. If you've ever had a goal at something, and you reached that goal, you may have a moment of celebration, but a new goal is often made soon after. That goal post moved. Your ideals moved.

Your art will naturally change and grow over time, and constantly seeing other artists better than us can contribute to us feeling inadequate. No matter how good you get, someone will always be better. That goal post can never be reached.

Instead, try to focus on yourself. Look at your art journey as its own unique thing, not compared to others. You can like your art or your style at any point in your journey. You can want to change your style at any point. Just keep an eye on your mental health. I have two short YT videos on this topic that might help if you need it, here and here. (I don't mean to imply this is easy, but I like to remind others, and myself, when I can, to treat ourselves better!)

This is a very long answer, hopefully some of it made sense at least, I just woke up so my brain is still a little zzzz, haha. But just some food for thought. Best of luck on your art journey :)

#ask

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emperornero · 2 years

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HEY! There will be none of that! I just saw your post about giving up your interests. Don’t you dare. I know first hand it can sometimes feel like it’s not worth it anymore but it is. Whatever it is. Make stuff for you. What you do matters because no matter what it will affect at least one person; you. Something as small as making a doodle matters because for the time you’re making it, you’re doing something for you and that’s important. Don’t abandon your interests because things are looking down. If anything you should bolster your interests. Put in some extra effort if you can and you’ll start to feel the worth of it all again. Keep you chin up!

thank you so much for the kind words.. my main problems with drawing is that 1. im always tired and sometimes i dont work on anything for a long while and 2. the way the art community works rn and how its SO intimidating to me.

i think ive peaked with having ANY kind of popularity back in 2018-19 on deviantart and i was super happy with others seeing my works, but since i was a child there was no way to profit off my work. then deviantart died and so i had to move. and for whatever reason i started posting here. tumblr is in no way a super popular website rn and despite it being used by many artists to this day you cannot compare it to twitter for example. and i dont want to make a twitter for personals reasons. also no one would follow me there except for like 10 people who actually like my art because im a literal no-one here and will probably never get popular. i know super popular artists who are still minors. theres this one guy i see on toyhouse a lot who just recently turned 14 im pretty sure and yet they sometimes earn THOUSANDS off making art monthly. or any other content creators who are very young but have 15k+ twitter followers and an active fanbase who is actually interested in their ideas. i will most likely never have that. its too late for me already despite me not even being 18 yet. everyone here started out so young and if youre not very well known by the time youre like 16 you dont matter. the last commission i ever did was nearly 10 months ago. and i didnt ever get more than 20$ from it. despite trying my best to promote myself nothing works. and i know i will need money to live. i am and will continue to be a nobody here. and whenever i remember this i want to stop all im doing and get rid off all of my socials and start over. its just hard for me. something that was supposed to be a hobby scares me now.

im not trying to shame all the young artists who are popular. im so happy for them. they deserve the money theyre getting. im jealous. and i think thats normal.

#asks #long post

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udon-udon · 2 years

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so lately since i’ve been playing runescape a lot and taking a break/not really wanting to draw cause im down with covid, i’ve been feeling a lot of guilt like “udon if you have the time to play runescape, you should be using that time to finish those art prints and draw instead!!!” and because of that it reminded me of other art friends/artists that still draw while sick etc cause they’re working hard and always grinding. So i’m basically comparing myself to other artists.

TL;DR:

- udon feels guilty for playing runescape all day and not using that time to finish art prints/draw (even though shes down sick with covid), - comparing apples to oranges, - worrying about what other people think of her because she’s not grinding art as much as other people who do art professionally/full time are, -needs to stop self sabotaging and learn to value herself more.

my friend then mentioned: if grinding art doesnt make you happy, then you shouldnt do it, it’ll just burn you out.

yes that sentence logically makes sense

but my brain keeps thinking: “ i dont WANT to grind art, but seeing everyone else grind art all the time makes me feel like im not doing ENOUGH and im not GOOD enough and im not working hard enough and that i NEED to be grinding and other grinding artists are gonna look down on me!!!!”

and of course the counter to that is: other artists that ARE grinding are wanting to do art full time/go professional kind of thing and it doesnt make sense to put those standards on myself when im doing art as just a hobby.

WHICH IS SOMETHING I ALREADY KNOW. I’ve told myself so many times that I’m doing art as just a hobby/side thing, and i should not and stop comparing myself to others that are pursuing it full time/professionally. But I can’t stop comparing for whatever reason. Is it because i have a lot of friends/know a lot of artists that are constantly on the grind/pursuing art full time? esp on twitter?

my friend then mentions: 1. they wouldnt look down on u 2. why does their view of you matter to you, like whether or not they look down or look up to you do you really feel that it would change anything

why DOES point #2 matter so much? why do others’ view of me matter so fucking much? (okay yes its only natural to be wary of what others think of me, but why do i let it affect me so much?) I feel like (well rather I KNOW) that i deep down have an inferiority complex (that has continuously gotten worse over the past 2 years i feel due to a certain life event), and i dont want people to look down on me/think badly of me/not doing good enough/not worthy enough. and it’s not even about my art style or wtvr, its about my WORK HABIT/WORK ETHIC/MY OWN IMAGE.

my friend then mentions that there are artists that put out art every day/very frequently, but there are also other artists that posts once in a blue moon, but you wouldn’t think any less of them or think they have a shitty work ethic right?

which makes me realize that yes that is true, i wouldnt think any less of them. and that all this conundrum and worrying is just me doing mental gymnastics voluntarily and self-sabotaging and creating all these problems that aren’t even there, thanks to my inferiority complex and worry about what people think of me. in turn making me feel art is making me feel suffocated cause im not having fun doing it anymore thanks to all that ^

all in all: I’m basing my worth on what other people think of me. And i need to stop that. for real. i’ve always just drew whatever i wanted and whenever i wanted (though definitely more frequently in my younger years) and i still do! . I need to just... enjoy drawing because i want to draw, not because i’m worried that if i dont im gonna look bad for not grinding all the damn time. I have a full time job outside of art. i also need to stop being so hard on myself and value myself more? and i guess, love myself more lol

#personal #not really sad post more like a... self reflection post #i have clarity for now but i hope this clarity will last

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youuuimeanmee · 3 years

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My SNK 139 Thoughts: Mikasa and Eren

This is my 2nd post about it. The first one is here.

First off, I wanna say something. What Mikasa sees in ch 138 is not her delusion/hallucination. It is not an alternate timeline either

It's Eren's planted memory. Or Eren's message, whatever you call it. Just like Armin's.

I mean, if Eren could talk to Armin while showing him lava, glacier and sea, why not a peaceful house in the forest with Mikasa? It answers how she was able to figure out Eren's location; because he told her so.

Funny how I used to not ship Eremika because Eren's gestures have always been too subtle, but now I'm kinda shipping it? Kinda amazes me how some of Eremika's analyses are actually right. I feel like I did him dirty when I said his decision to live with her is similar to Armin's wish to sleep 2 days straight; it's not that shallow at all. I remember a post where it says Eren will fucking elope with her if she just said so, and I just laughed at that. Now that his feeling is confirmed, I laugh at how unironic it was.

But, my God. Did Eren really use the last minutes of his life playing house with her, while trying not to hint anything that he loves her back??? I mean, look.

He's desperate to act like a good husband ffs, it's just sad. He also begs Mikasa to forget about him and live a happy life, yet, he still doesn't have the heart to tell her she should move on with another man.

Ahhh tragedy at its finest. I love it so much.

People tend to bring out their true nature when they're close to their death. Eren is no exception when he's with Armin. But with Mikasa, he loves her too much that he keeps pretending. Until the end, Eren did not apologize for saying that he hated her. Until the end, he's trying to make it easier for Mikasa to let him go. I'm kinda salty about that (girl deserves to know how much he loves her), but hey, at least Mikasa seemed to understand him anyway.

I'm not too mad when Mikasa decided to separate herself from the others? I agree it seems like she's not being able to let go of Eren, but in the first place, her decision to join the SC was only to protect him?

And her decision to stop Eren is because she wanted him to not add any more sins than he already has; she wants to be there with him.

To put it nicely, she is consistent. To put it badly, she's undeveloped. But I think she is developed enough for being able to separate from Eren and chose Armin's side to protect the world; she's developed enough to choose her future path for herself. I remember Isayama's interview from 2016; it's what makes me able to let go of my disappointment over her character.

"Mikasa’s growth probably involves separation from Eren. By separation, I mean she might be able to return to that ordinary girl that she used to be in childhood. I read some interesting thoughts from readers on the internet. People would say male mangaka have a tendency to reject the notion of “fate.“ On the contrary, female mangaka draw works that approve “fate.” You meet your Mr./Ms. Right, you say “This is fate!”, and you accept that the trajectory of your life is already predestined. People who interfere with that and seem to affect your serene life are portrayed as villains. Of course, I am not speaking of all mangaka, but with my mentality as a male mangaka, I think it is pitiful if Mikasa’s life is only about staying together with Eren. However to Mikasa, it is a wonderful thing to be with Eren forever. Combining what I’ve said, if I were to draw the separation of Eren and Mikasa, I feel like my portrayal likely won’t be satisfactory for readers, because Mikasa would have to endure the strain of being stuck between Eren and Armin. Even though she can sympathize with Armin, who considers things from a “globalism” perspective, it’s possible that she can’t just let the more self-focused Eren go."

So, this is what Isayama came up with: the middle ground. Mikasa is able to break free from the strain of choosing between Eren and Armin's side; by protecting the world, stopping Eren, while also staying close by his side. She couldn't join Historia and the Jeagerist because their ideal doesn't match with her. She couldn't become Paradis' ambassador like Armin and the rest either, because they're supposed to be the faction that doesn't condone Eren's action. So this is what she chose: Retire, and live in peace.

I would like to think that Mikasa does return to her little girl self. I want to believe that she's not living in complete solitude. She's moving on with her life, she just happens to be in that grave because she wants to inform Eren that his friends will be back from overseas soon.

But for real, BirdEren wrapping the scarf around Mikasa's neck is borderline beautiful and hilarious. I don't know how I feel about this 😂

I know it's meant to be a symbol of Eren fulfilling his promise, but I hope Mikasa's future love interest doesn't get attacked by hordes of birds lmao. I hope this is Eren's final message that it's okay for her to move on with another man, because now he knows she will always love him no matter what.

Aside from that last 2 pages, I'm satisfied with Mikasa's journey.

#shingeki no kyojin #snk #attack on titan #aot #snk spoilers #aot spoilers #snk manga #snk manga spoilers #aot manga #aot manga spoilers #snk 139 #aot 139 #eremika #mikasa ackerman #eren yeager #might write part 3 for armin and the rest of the gang later

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volleychumps · 4 years

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Requesting cheating angst with Kuroo, Iwaizumi, Akaashi, and Atsumu? Rip my heart apart please😌😌♥️

oH SHIT let’s do a remix on the fluff for this one post, everybody- I’m in an angsty mood so uh, eskettit :( I couldn’t make it past Akaashi’s scenario and I had so many breaks, so proceed at your own risk, everyone!

Turn and Keep Going. (Kuroo, Iwaizumi, and Akaashi) - angst -

TW: CHEATING, CURSING, ANGST- no fr I ugly cried and I wrote it

Kuroo

“Y/N. Where do you keep the extra towels again?”

You didn’t mean to see it. In fact, if you had the choice on whether or not you did-

you would have chosen not to.

The phone in your hand became tightened in an iron-clad grip as a chuckle with a nervous tinge to it slipped Kuroo’s mouth, and the world seemed to drown out for a moment. As if the world around you submerged into the water of the sea, where everything you could hear was jumbled as a strange heat flooded your vision, choking your lungs with the salt of the ocean.

“Y/N?” The garbled voice was questioning now as your eyes stayed glued to the screen, of the naked set of breasts and invites, even worse-

the accepting replies.

That was all it took for you to flinch away from the hand that Kuroo had carefully set on your back hunched over the device, the towel he had been using to dry off his hair falling to the floor in a heap of material as the raven-haired boy finally entered your bedroom from his post-practice shower.

Still, the phone remained tightened in your hand so tight to the point where your knuckles were turning white.

“Why are you going through my phone?” The accusatory edge to Kuroo’s voice had risen, and so did you to your feet, the device hitting the floor next to the towel as you fight to keep your head afloat.

“How long?” Your voice cracked, no matter how hard you fought the breaking feeling spreading across your chest as Kuroo seemed to still completely, and you didn’t need to look at him fully in the face to know how utterly guilty he looked.

“W-What do you-?”

“Don’t.” Your voice was soft, refusing to meet the captain’s eyes now, not knowing just who was standing in your room.

Not knowing just who was the man now holding your face in his hands, urging you to look at him with his own flood falling on his cheeks as his words remained garbled. Still, you let him.

“Baby. Kitten-fuck. I don’t know what you think you saw, but I love you! I wasn’t completely there when I-”

“Fucked her?” Your voice hadn’t risen, eyes glazed over in a haze as Kuroo’s voice hitched.

“No. Nononono- Y/N, kitten-”

“T-Tetsurou?” The name felt foreign on your tongue as your head finally rose to meet his, willing everything inside you to hold it back as Kuroo held you tighter, as if his arms would salvage what was falling apart.

“Get out.”

“Y/N. Please.” His voice fell to a whisper-

and the dam broke.

“I SAID GET THE HELL OUT.” You screamed, falling to your knees as your arms wrapped around yourself, knowing you were all you had in the world at the moment. You saw his legs approach you, before hesitating and turning the other way, clenched fists creating bloody marks in his hands from his fingernails as he complied.

“And Tetsurou.” You spat just as his legs stall in the doorway, watching as Kuroo’s feral and playful eyes that once painted every edge of your universe seemed to be fighting to remain stable. The captain heard those words, and couldn’t fight the sobs beginning to wreck his body as the voice he loved echoed in his ears with parting words-

Your voice didn’t crack this time.

“Don’t come back.”

Iwaizumi

“She’s a nobody.”

You jump at the sound of the voice, humorless chuckle slipping your lips as Iwa steps to your side, dark eyes looking tired and void of any light that might had once lit up his dark irises. You look out at the landscape, still looking straight forward as the ace settles next to you, hanging his forearm across his bent knee.

“How did you find me?”

“It’s been two years. I know you, Y/N.” Iwaizumi’s eyes bore into your side profile, and more sarcastic giggles make their way past your lips as you hug your knees to your chest, jabbing him where it hurts.

“Funny. I really thought I knew you, Hajime-”

“Don’t you start with that shit.”

You lazily finally meet Iwa’s eyes, causing the ace to feel the lump growing in his throat at the amount of light drained from the look of them, mirroring his own. Iwa moistens his lips, trying to get his head back on track as the heat tinges at the sides of his eyes.

“We love each other, don’t we?”

“Yeah. We did.”

Iwa flinches at the past-tense term, feeling his breathing hollow out at the sound of it.

“We must’ve at some point, right?” All cried-out, you watch the sun seem to slowly sink into the horizon in a mix of color as your eyes soak in its’ prettiness, as if the light from the sun would somehow bring the gleam back to your eyes-

but every time you closed them, all you saw was Iwaizumi fiercely kissing another girl in the passenger seat of her car, fist clenched in her hair as he kissed her with anger from the fight he had with you-

“You do. You love me.” The denial sunk in as you laugh. And you laugh some more as if that were the most idiotic thing in the world. “And I love you, Y/N- princess, we can make this work and get through this-!”

“I don��t want to, though.” You cut him off, drawing circles in the dirt as you remember the nights teasing Iwa for showing too little emotion- not knowing that the most you would get out of him would be after he stuck his tongue down another girl’s throat.

“Don’t you get that?” You shake your head, smiling as if you can’t believe it, shoving Iwa’s attempt of holding you off of you as you raise to your feet, soaking in the colors as they fade to a more dark color palate.

“I don’t give a fuck about some nobody, don’t you get that?!” Iwa’s on his feet now too, and you finally begin to crack as you look out to the horizon, a familiar heat flooding your vision as you smile.

“Hey, Hajime.” You ignore his cry, prompting the dark-haired boy to look in the same direction you were. “This is where it all started, didn’t it? Where you kissed me, and promised that you would always protect me, right?”

Iwa’s own eyes brim with frustration as the stinging heat from earlier takes over, feeling the mix of regret and heartbreak begin to settle in as you turn and give him a smile. No sarcastic intention behind it as you close your eyes, Iwa’s eyes widening at the sight of something he’d never get to see again.

“I guess you really don’t know me, after all.” You smile to the point where its’ painful, spinning on your heel. “I came because I knew you’d find me, not to fix whatever this is, but-”

You’re turned around now, the sun fading into night as you will your legs to keep walking.

“To say goodbye to you, Hajime.”

And so, the dark-haired ace watched as you walked off into the distance and out of his life for a problem he created, yells of frustration enclosed in his throat and the need to punch something ever-so prevalent-

as the sky above now swirled with dark pigment.

Akaashi

“Don’t. Don’t go, please.”

“Keiji, let go.” You tug your arm in an attempt to make the messy-haired boy release you, trembling when he pulls you into his chest, burying his head in your neck as the hot tears hit your skin, prompting you to bite your lip and fight the urge to hold him back as your own eyes burn. If he wouldn’t let you go, then-

You can’t help the vicious words from slipping. “She’s waiting, you should go to her, shouldn’t you?”

“Stop. D-Don’t say that-”

“Am I wrong?” Your voice remains stable to your surprise, causing Akaashi to tighten his hold on you even more. “The girl who came out after you in your shower...who is she?”

“No one! No one, Y/N, you were so far for so long, and-”

“And what?” You question emotionlessly. “You have needs? You were lonely? Cut the bullshit.”

“Do you know what it’s been like?” Akaashi’s voice is soft with an angry edge as he pulls back, still holding you in his arms as if to keep you there for an eternity, and for a minute, time does stop-

and you soak in the reality. Life tore you two apart, distanced yet together, far away yet still part of the same relationship. The blue-eyed boy would never be able to rewind the clock and keep you as his no matter what life hurled-

“Let go.”

“Fuck if I do.”

Your strong exterior begins to crumble as Akaashi watches with now widened eyes as the viciousness drains only to be replaced with sorrow, relief filling his heart when you hold him back just as tightly, your chin resting on his shoulder as your grateful he won’t be able to see what kind of expression crosses your features.

“Keiji.” You whisper almost child-like, causing Akaashi’s heart to swell with hope until the next words make his heart stop.

“Eat healthy, will you? I know Bokuto likes to drag you around to all these places, but too much ramen isn’t good for you-”

“Y/N?”

“And please, for god sakes, make sure you remember to pick up your suit from the laundromat on Thursdays, I know you’re presentations are usually on Fridays-”

“Y/N.”

“Oh, and don’t forget- you always make it a point to drop by Konoha’s for a guy night on the fourth of every month, so don’t drink too much because it gives you a massive migraine in the middle of the night-”

“Y/N!”

“And Keiji?” You pull back, corners of your mouth pulled back as you cup his face gently, leaning your forehead against his as Akaashi Keiji freezes in shock as the love of his life, his future, his world-

Smiles a wordless goodbye, capturing his lips as Akaashi wonders how to turn the hands of time, forcing the laws of nature to bend for his selfish desires as his arms slacken-

“Be happy.” You whisper, retracting your arms and hands before stepping out of his now weak grip, brushing past him with a finality in your steps as time refuses to stop, Akaashi fighting every instinct on forcing you to stay with him-

letting you go as the hands of time continue to move along with your steps away from him, the setter lifting a hand to his mouth before he falls to his knees and looks up to the sky-

wishing he had more hours, minutes, and seconds to see that smile for just a bit longer.

“Yeah. You do the same, love.”

-----------------------------------------

LMAO GO READ SOME OF MY FLUFF IF THIS MADE YOU SAD I’M SORRY

General works: @takemetovalhalla @kasandrafaye @savemesteeb @dreebbles @yams046

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu kuroo #Kuroo Tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu akaashi #haikyuu akaashi keiji #haikyuu iwaizumi #Iwaizumi Hajime #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu angst #tw: cheating

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bruhstories · 3 years

Text

Personal Demon

Summary: Because of a mistake, you're assigned a devil instead of an angel. Pairing: Demon!Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader Warnings & Conent: oh boy, here we go - language, mentions of suicide, mentions of self harm, mentions of rape, fingering, unprotexted sex, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of reader in an asylum, sliiiiight dumbification of reader, slight corruption of reader, Eren's a little shit Word Count: 3.9 k

A/N: So I wrote this in, like, 3-4 days because I felt like it's pretty bad but not bad enough not to post it. I hope you still enjoy it, though!

You always felt it — breathing in your nape, moving in the corner of your room at night, whispering things you shouldn't dare think about. Your own personal demon. Most of the time you did a good job at ignoring it. Most of the time you abused substances to make it go away, at least for a minute. With the puff of weed or a bottle of alcohol, it stayed away, only watching from afar and never involving itself with you. Most of the time.

Keys clung in your hands, door shutting behind as you walked into your apartment, fingers wrapped around your grocery bags. Yet another night of drinking the voice away.

"Not today, Satan." You hummed, popping open a bottle of gin, nose scrunching at the bitter taste.

"I keep telling you, the easiest way to get rid of me would be to kill yourself." It spoke, this time outside of your head.

"And I keep telling you to stay the fuck away from me." You growled back.

"We both know that's not possible."

Another sip and you put the bottle down, hands digging inside the bag for a snack.

"You're gonna need something stronger than that."

There it was, the bar of chocolate you so eagerly starved for. The TV suddenly turned on. It was craving entertainment.

"Anything unusual happened today?"

No, it was craving attention and you were not about to give it any. You put the groceries inside the fridge and grabbed the bottle, plopping on the couch.

"How long are you going to pretend I'm not here?"

"As long as I need." You snapped back, eyes glued to the TV.

"Well, that didn't last long." It laughed. "Come on, Y/N, we've been together for, what, 24 years?"

"Can you just shut up? Disappear? Crawl back to Hell?"

"Nope. Waaaaait, I know why you've got your panties in a twist. It's because that Jean guy you like hooked up with Mikasa, right?"

It was impossible to deal with. Every single second, it was there. Since you've been born, it was there, always watching, always following you, always. You tried to go to a priest, a monk, anything, but nothing helped. The angel that was supposed to guide you happened to be a demon and there was nothing you could do about it. But you were not going to give it the satisfaction of ending your pathetic life, no matter how much you wanted to, because despite being a demon, it still had to keep you alive until your time came. It, however, did like to push you over the edge, push you until you grabbed a knife and slit your wrists, only for the knife to get shoved by some invisible force before you could finish the job. It tormented you and it loved it.

"I told you, not today, Satan."

"Ugh, my name's-"

"I don't care." Your head snapped into the direction of the voice, only to be met with a wall. "Let's face it, we shouldn't have been in this situation, so why don't you shut your mouth up and let me get on with my life?"

"What life?" It laughed and you could already picture the sneer on its face, flashing you fangs and a forked tongue. "That's not even what I look like."

"Get out of my head!" You screamed before grabbing the bottle and emptying half of its contents.

"Careful, Y/N, the neighbours might call the police and you don't want to end up like last time, do you?"

Last time... you were but a child, throwing plates at the wall only to make it stop talking when your parents admitted you to an asylum. You had to live with it for half a year before they let you out.

"Please, please stay out of my head." Tears pooled at your eyes as you clutched the bottle at your chest.

"Now why would I stay out when it's just so much fun in you?"

"God, I hate you so much!"

"Me or beardy up there? I couldn't quite get it." It laughed again, laughing at your damn misery as you got up from the couch and left the apartment.

The alcohol already made its way to your brain when you reached the ground floor of the building. Rain poured outside but you didn't care, you just ran as far away from it as possible and for the first time in years, it didn't follow you. Grateful and content, you slowed down, admiring the beauty of the city which you ignored because of the voice inside of your head. The smell of rain, the colourful buildings, the empty streets, everything felt new and refreshing, and you took it all in. Time seemed to slow down without itconstantly nagging in the back of your mind and you realised you were pretty far away from your home, an area unknown to you. Still, you knew how to get back, you hoped, but when you turned around, a man pushed you into an alleyway.

"Satan?" You whispered, dizzy from the lingering gin and smell of rain. The man pinned you to a wall and finally you were beginning to realise what was happening.

"Call me whatever you want, baby, just keep that pretty voice down." His hand moved up your thigh and panic seeped through your veins. "We don't want to draw any attention, now, do we?" He kissed your neck and you froze on the spot, eyes widening in fear and body shivering.

"L-let go of me!" You managed, the alcohol numbing your arms, rendering you unable to push the stranger away.

"Shhh, don't fight it." The man squeezed your arms, his fingers bruising the soft skin. Anger, sadness and pain coiled together in your chest and you couldn't breathe anymore. Oh, how you wished you never left your flat, how you wished you stayed back and listened to itconstantly yapping, like a maggot crawling into your brain. "Aren't you a pretty one?" He cooed, his hand travelling lower, lower, to the point where tears started rolling down your cheeks, mixing with the snot and rain on your face.

And then it happened — in the blink of an eye, your assailant was thrown against the other wall by the too familiar invisible force as you sank to the ground, eyes puffy and red, legs trembling.

"The fuck? What are you?" The man hissed at you, his hands holding his abdomen.

"I'm the devil." It spoke, voice inhuman and perilous, and you could only sneer at him. For the first time you were happy it was there. Sick, twisted thoughts invaded your mind and you wanted to watch him suffer, and itknew. It knew, because the devil was always in your head.

"You crazy bitch!" The assailant, now helpless and overpowered, did not know about your own personal demon, and he tried to get up, tried to leap forward at you and strangle the last bit of air out of your lungs, but he couldn't. Somethingwas holding him back.

"You want him dead?" It asked, but you know the devil took more pleasure in inflicting pain rather than swiftly killing.

"No." You grinned, eyes dark and dangerous. "I want him to suffer."

"That's my girl."

Blood-curling screams echoed in the alleyway. You didn't know what it was doing to him, but you knew for a fact that you were enjoying the sounds that came out of your attacker. His wrists contorted in a way you didn't think was possible, and the melody of broken bones reminded you that what was happening was wrong. For a moment, your brain was rational, telling you that it should stop, that you should both just leave and forget this ever happened. But... it also felt good, it felt like you've just been reborn, discovering a deeply buried part of you that ached to be exposed. Then, his legs twisted and the man winced in pain, so much pain, and your heart fluttered in your chest.

"More?" It asked and you nodded.

"More."

His arms looped, like a deformed puppet loosely strung, and it made him dance in the rain until his body gave up from fatigue.

"Aw, I was really hoping he'd be a feisty one." It mused, and you also clicked your tongue in disappointment. Before you left, you gave your assailant a good kick in the stomach, your boot stomping on his face with so much anger and force that what remained was unrecognisable.

Wet clothes piled on the floor, you wrapped your naked body in a blanket to warm yourself up. What just happened? What did you do? Why did you allow it to happen and more importantly, why did you love every minute of it? The questions jogged in your fuzzy brain, as you slowly sobered up.

"Why did I enjoy it, Satan?" You asked, lips quivering.

"I told you, my name's not Satan, it's-"

"Eren, I know. I remember." You could feel it quirk a brow, surprised and impressed by its name rolling down your tongue so naturally. "Why did I enjoy it? It's wrong and disgusting."

"Do you remember what happens when you say my name?" It sounded almost concerned.

"You physically manifest, I know. Now answer my fuckingquestion."

"What do you want me to say?" Itasked, fragments of muscle, skin and silk pulling together from thin air. First, its legs. Then, its upper body, draped in a charcoal-black robe. "That you're as sadistic as I am? Maybe it wasn't a mistake that you have a demon, not an angel." And finally, its face materialised in front of you — long dark brown hair falling down his shoulders and eyes so green, it felt like a forest was in them. It looked almost human, the hooked nose, the elongated ears, the deeply sunken emeralds and jagged mouth betraying its true nature.

"I thought you'd have fangs." Was your only response at the scene unfolding in front of you, blanket clutched at your chest. Any normal person would shudder at the demonic sight of Eren appearing in front of them, but to you, it felt comforting to finally assign a face to the voice you so desperately tried to ignore.

"And I thought you wanted to get rid of me." It scoffed, its facial features changing, becoming softer and resembling a human man, but those eyes didn't change an ounce.

"I don't know what I want anymore. If it weren't for you, I would've been raped and dead, probably."

"Just embrace it, Y/N. Just let go of that annoying voice in your head that tells you it's wrong." He encouraged. "There's no such thing as good or bad, right or wrong. It's just surviving, adapting or dying."

Eren looked unbelievably human and incredibly handsome in the dim light of your living room lamp. Maybe it was the alcohol that hasn't left your body yet, or maybe it was the fact that he saved you, again, but the truth was that the devil in your house was making you feel something you couldn't even feel for Jean — and you thought you were in love with Jean.

"Alright, let's pretend for a moment that I give into temptation." Your eyes found his and you felt hypnotised, the rational part of your brain slowly overshadowed by your instincts and feelings. "What then? Do you leave me alone? Do you go back to hell? Do Igo to hell?"

"Oh, I wouldn't call it hell. More like a demonic paradise." He shrugged, eyes bored and blank, devout of any emotion. You leaned forward trying to search for something in his darkened orbs.

"Why are you being nice to me? You're supposed to save me from death, not rape."

He clicked his tongue, your question drilling into his brain, repeating itself over and over again. Why did he save you? It's not like he cared, he only did his job, right? Right?

Wrong.

The demon you grew up with, the demon who tormented you, the demon who tried so desperately to ruin your life did, in fact, give two shits about you and your pathetic existence. Just not in the way you thought.

"Let's just say no one gets to touch you but me." Eren closed the gap between you two, his nose almost grazing over yours. He was absolutely intoxicating and you always fought with the constant need to let him control you. After all, he was always with you, he saw you hit your lowest points, he saw the best of you, he saw your naked body, he saw everything, ergo you were his. Your head quickly turned to the side before you leaned back, exhaustion written all over your face as Eren clicked his tongue. The thing about demons was that they couldn't physically interfere without their human's consent, only using invisible force to stop you from dying and he was just so close.

"Ah, but you can't touch me, though." You trailed off, brow quirked at his narrowed eyes. You've done your homework, you knew what he needed, but still, that side of you tried to prevail over the side that craved his touch.

"Yet." Eren snapped back before your drifted to sleep.

Once again you dreamt of it him, his cock buried deep inside your needy cunt as you screamed his name over and over again while you came undone. When you jolted up from your sleep, he was there, watching you, like a predator stalking its prey. Normally he wouldn't be there, but since you called his name, Eren was glaring down at your helpless body, famished for something only you could give him.

"What's the time?" You groaned, fingers rubbing your eyelids.

"Three in the morning." He answered, eyes glued to you. "Bad dream?" The demon sneered. You knew he'd been in your head again, you knew those dreams existed for a reason.

"They wouldn't be bad if you'd just stay the fuck out of my mind." You hummed with a fake smile.

"Alright then, look me in the eye and tell me, reallytell me you want me to leave you alone." But you couldn't and he knew it. "Stop fighting it, Y/N. For two decades you kept trying. Maybe you should stop being stubborn and just give in." Eren shrugged, his voice tempting and you only wondered if that's how Eve felt when the snake tempted her. You weren't a Christian by any means, but you knew the story well enough to figure out the consequences.

"I have work tomorrow. Please let me sleep." You got up from the couch, blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

And that's when Eren reached his limits. He followed you into your bedroom, something knocking the wind out of you as you fell on the mattress. Somethingpulling the blanket off of you. Somethingtravelling down your arms, goosebumps dotting your skin as he stood in the doorway.

"I can't touch you, but I can do so many things to you." He inched closer, his figure imposing and dangerous and you could feel your core burning. "I can smell your arousal, Y/N. I know you want it. You just have to say it." Eren demanded and you hated that he was right. Slowly but surely, the battle in your heart and mind was coming to an end the more he got closer to the bed. "Say it."

You whined and writhed in pain and pleasure, and in the blink of an eye your life flashed before your eyes as you came to the conclusion that you've tried so hard to stay away from the demon, but either he was too persistent, or you were too weak. Or you just simply wanted him to ravage you and you were okay with that. Your hands stopped moving, your body stopped fighting.

"Do it..." You half-begged, judgement clouded, vision blurry. "Please, do it! Touch me, break me, fuck me, please! I need you, need to feel you..."

Like some sort of spell had just been lifted, Eren felt relieved. The sight of your sprawled body, combined with the lustful look in your lidded eyes only fed his hunger and he was famished. Calloused fingertips grazed over your knees, up your thighs, sending chills down your spine as you arched your back, pulling the demon closer to your face.

"Kiss me?" You asked, voice sweet and needy and he crushed his lips onto yours. They were surprisingly soft, tasting of whiskey and honey and the flavour lingered on your lips after he pulled away. Your body quivered under his touch, yearning for more, hands tugging at his silken robe to expose the chiselled chest. Eren pressed his forehead onto yours, hot breath tickling your cheeks.

"I'm going to ruin you, Y/N." He dug his teeth into your shoulder, the imprint burning into your skin, all the pent-up frustration slowly being released with each movement. He dragged one hand over your breasts before settling on one nipple, fingers pinching it to earn a reaction out of you. A whimper escaped from your lips as you pushed your chest upwards, wanting him closer than the laws of physics would allow. Your slender hands tangled in his locks as Eren left a trail of purple marks and bites all over your neck and shoulder.

"Fill me up, please..."

"Patience." He mused. "I've waited so many years for this, you can wait a few more minutes." Head buried between your tits, his hand travelled lower until it found your wet cunt. Fingers grazed over your folds before he drove his index into your soaked pussy and that's when you knew just how much you craved him. Your silken walls clenched around his curled-up finger and your neediness made him add another one, moans drilling through his eardrums, into his brain. "Fuck, you're so wet..." Eren hummed, vibrations tickling your skin. You couldn't form a coherent sentence even if your life counted on it. All you could think about was that if his fingers stretched you, his cock would tear your cunt apart — and you reallywanted to feel that. Fingernails dug into his back and he hissed, his tongue flicking your nipple and all the build-up was too much for you.

"Eren, please..." You mewled, your chest rising and falling with each breath, with each touch, each lick.

"You want me to fuck you? Want me to tear you apart?" The demon growled. His sudden change in tone only further added fuel to the fire inside your core and you eagerly nodded.

"Yes, God — yes! But Eren, I want to see you, not this pretty face you put on." You pleaded, eyes teary and demanding.

"No." He simply answered and that instantly made you jolt up, forcefully pushing him off of you.

"Are you trying to screw with my mind again? You've literally been with me for 24 years!" You shouted, and even Eren was slightly confused. "You tormented me for two decades, put me in an asylum, constantly stopped me from killing myself and now I can't even see the real you?" You threw your hands at him and he caught your wrists with ease. "You owe me at least that, Satan." Tears freely rolled down your face and you could feel his hot tongue lick the salty drops from your cheek. Your pain was his pleasure, he was a demon after all, the embodiment of all evil, but he decided you were corruptedenough to at least see his true colours, which you only managed to glance at.

"You're right, Y/N," Eren kissed your forehead and you couldn't even notice the manipulative hints in his voice, "you deserve at least this." He pulled back, and slowly his face distorted, allowing you to look at his disfigured mouth, elongated ears and abnormally long tongue.

"Thank you, thank you!" You beamed with bright eyes.

The woman who battled her demon? Gone.

In her place stood only a shell of a person, whose sole purpose was to get fucked by the demon in front of her. You feverishly parted his lips with your tongue, touch-starved and desperate, and Eren threw you onto the bed, robe pooled on the floor. And you were right, his cock wouldtear you apart by the looks of it. Before he could do anything, you spread your legs for him, like a good little slut, mouth agape and nothing but lust in your eyes. The sneer on his face was unlike anything you've seen before, and it both terrified and aroused you.

"Eager to please, aren't you?" He climbed onto the bed, the velvety tip of his cock barely touching your wet slit.

"I'm begging you, Eren, please fuck me!"

The demon scoffed at your pathetic words, but he couldn't deny how much he loved to hear your needy voice. You wouldn't have to know that, of course. He ever so slowly pushed the tip in between your folds, your cunt greedily taking it all in while you whimpered at the foreign sensation.

"Shhh," Eren cooed at you mockingly, "you love it, don't you?"

"Y-yes, please, d-deeper..."

Was it really you speaking or was this another one of his demonic tricks? And more importantly, did it even matter that he made you say those things when his cock felt just so good inside of you? Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you as Eren thrusts became harder. Your tits bounced with every move, pleasure engulfing both of you and you never knew demons fucked so raw.

"Fuck, you're so tight." He hissed into your ear, the compliment only making you clench your walls around his impossibly hard cock. "Such a good girl." Eren praised you, knowing perfectly well how much you lacked appreciation from your parents, knowing perfectly well how your childhood traumas and frustration only aided him. He was your demon, after all. When your only response was to roll your eyes at the back of your head like a possessed woman, Eren picked up the pace, his abnormal tongue licking at your collarbone.

"D-do you l-like it?" You asked, concerned that he might not be satisfied with you. He wouldn't be fucking you so hard if he didn't, but you were so brainwashed that nothing made sense anymore.

"I do, doll, now be a good whore and rub that clit, will you?" The demon urged and with a shaky hand you complied, the friction mixed with his thrusts sending you into a frenzy. You were close and he knew it.

"Oh, f-fuck! Eren!"

His cock hit that sweet spot and you were done for, your legs loosened around his waist, falling onto the bed, but he kept on fucking you.

"My turn." Eren growled, his hands lifting your hips like you were some sort of ragdoll between his fingers. Your vision blurred, every word you tried to utter lost in your throat the more he buried himself into you, yet somehow you still managed to clench your walls. With one final thrust you felt him spill his hot seed, cum dripping out of your sore cunt as he pulled out.

Eren plopped next to you and you curled up in a ball, head on his chest. You were craving his attention, his care, but he responded by bringing his hands behind his head, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. He wanted to hold you tightly, he wanted to pet your head, but he couldn’t. And you were alright with that, because you knew that, no matter what, you would always have your own personal demon at your side.

#eren jaeger #eren smut #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yaeger smut #aot #aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan #snk #snk x reader #snk smut #shingeki no kyoujin

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sirowsky · 3 years

Text

The Stories We Tell Ourselves (One-Shot)

Author's Note: So, this was an ask sent to me by my darling wife, @lucrezia-thoughts a while back, that I for some reason never actually added to my collection of works. Which seemed like a shame, since I'm kinda proud of it (it was my very first ask), so I thought I'd re-post it and give it a proper spotlight. Description: Mando's injured and Grogu's bored, so fem!reader tells him a bedtime story.

Rating: Everyone (all fluff all the way on this one, though blood is mentioned) Word Count: 1872

It had been one of those days when one thing had just bled into another, and everything had gone wrong. It was a miracle all three of you had survived, but the Mandalorian had been injured, trying to protect you from a very unpleasant trader, who had knives concealed everywhere in his clothing. Mando had been cut along his side, and while the injury would heal on its own, it had bled a lot before you’d been able to get back to the Crest and properly dress it. He’d insisted on getting the ship off the planets surface before he’d allowed you to help him, and as a result, there was blood everywhere. He hadn’t actually hired you, he had just sort of… realised that the kid liked you and decided that if you were brave enough to stick with them despite the danger of their situation, without even asking for payment, then he wouldn’t stop you.

You weren’t sure if he actually liked you. It was hard to tell with him, even after months of being couped up with the man. You could quite easily read him around others, as you’d become familiar with his body language and mannerisms, so you knew how he should behave if he liked you. But for some reason, he behaved differently with you. His body language was always much more still and maybe even careful, around you, as though he was afraid you’d break if he accidentally bumped into you. It was more than a little annoying, sometimes, since it made it difficult to define what your relationship actually was. But it was mostly just annoying because you wanted him to bump into you. He was a mystery, but that wasn’t what drew you to him. He was kind and respectful, quiet but strong, in both body and conviction. He wasn’t too proud or too self-assured, but he was loyal and protective and gentle. It was quite amazing to you that he was so proficient at using those hands for violence, when he was also so tender with the baby. It had brought tears to your eyes on more than one occasion.

When you’d finally cleaned the last remnants of blood from the controls in the cock-pit, you headed back down to check on Mando. But your eyes fell on the empty pram sitting on the floor of the cargo-bay.

“Oh, no. Kid… where’d you go?”

You searched quietly, not wanting to wake Mando after you’d finally gotten him to lay down in his bunk to rest, before going to scrub the blood away. But then you heard a muffled giggle, and of course it came from the damned bunk. You’d left the door open so that you could easily hear it if he stirred or seemed to worsen in any way.

“No, no, no… Come on, get out of there, let the man rest.”

You reached in and snatched the kid off of Mando’s chest and then stood there for a minute, rocking him quietly against your hip, while you listened for any sign that your… companion… had woken up. You eventually sighed and sat down on a crate, directly behind the bunk, cradling the kid in your arms.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, you know.”

He just cooed and looked at you with bright eyes.

“Okay. How about a bedtime story?”

He just blinked and angled his head a bit more towards you.

“Hm, let’s see. When I was young, my mother would tell me stories about love to get me to sleep. She said that a child that feels loved, will always have the comfort to sleep soundly. So, this story begins with a King. A good, and kind man who rules his land with open arms and a warm heart, but also protects it with ferocity and conviction. Because that land holds everything that he loves, and without it – he’d be broken. One day, when the King is travelling, he finds an orphan outside of his dominion, and being the good man that he is, he brings the child home, to raise as his own. He has no idea how to do that, and it’s chaotic most of the time, especially since his duties can’t be put on hold while he cares for a baby. He still has to rule the land. But he loves that baby so much, that no matter how hard it gets, he endures. He doesn’t care that he hasn’t slept in days, or that he’s always terrified that something’s gonna happen to his boy. None of it matters, as long as the child is safe.”

Mando woke up the moment the kid climbed onto his chest. It was reflexive at this point. Even though he knew that you were there, and would care for the boy without his asking, he was already conditioned to react to whatever the little one needed. But he was wounded and tired, and he heard you coming down from the cock-pit, probably having cleaned up his mess – yet again, so he ignored the kid, and made no effort to let you know that he was awake, when you came to pick the child up. He was in some pain, the wound throbbing a little with each beat of his pulse, which made falling back asleep a little harder, even though he was exhausted. And it was surprisingly nice, just listening to you talk quietly to the kid, not knowing he could hear you. It wasn’t surprising that he found it nice; he found everything about you nice. It was surprising that he enjoyed the eavesdropping aspect so much. That he liked the intimacy of listening to you when your guard was down, and you were just being a woman caring for a child. He listened closely to your story, not missing the clear similarities to your actual life and the way you two had met.

“So, when the King has to travel again, he decides to bring his son along, and they go on a long and adventurous journey together. But on their way back, they come across a woman, wounded and in need of help. And because the King is a good man, he brings the woman to his castle, and helps her heal. And while she heals, she repays the King his kindness, by looking after his son while he cares for his kingdom. And as the woman watches her rescuer, and sees the true warmth of his heart as he cares for his land as closely, and tenderly, as he cares for his son, she falls in love with him.”

He nearly stopped breathing as he heard the words. Could you really mean him? The rest of the story was more or less exactly your story, so you had to be talking about him. He had never allowed himself to consider it. To think that you could ever want to be with a man like him, no matter how much he might want you to. He knew that his efforts to restrain himself around you made him seem stiff and perhaps a bit cold, and it always hurt him to see you try so hard to read him, to understand why he was different towards you than his friends. But if you wanted him too… that changed everything.

“But this wonderful man is a King, and she’s just a woman he found on the side of the road. She has no claim to him, and she’s afraid to tell him how she feels, because if he doesn’t feel the same, it’ll break her heart. So, she cares for the child as best she can, and hopes that he won’t make her leave the castle once she’s healed. And he doesn’t. He let’s her stay, and over time, she finds the courage to tell him the truth, and he reveals that he loves her too. And together they raise the child with love and happiness and adventures, and that’s how this little story ends, my sweet.”

The kid was asleep by the time you finished the tale, and you rocked him gently in your arms after you fell silent, to make sure he wouldn’t stir once you got up to put him back in his pram. You tucked him in snugly, and then closed the little egg up, to keep him warm and safe. Once you were done, you raised your hand up to your neck, rubbing idly at the knots and strained muscles, after such a long day of hardships and stress, and you couldn’t stop the exhausted sigh that escaped you. The movement to your side didn’t register in your brain until Mando was already sitting up at the edge of the bunk, and it startled you. You flinched and then your brain woke up again, and you approached him.

“Hey, what’s the matter, are you okay? Do you need anything?”

Oh, stars above… the number of ways that he could answer that last question.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“No, no, you’re the one that’s wounded, which means I’m the only one that gets to ask that.”

He considered that for a moment.

“I heard your story, mesh’la.”

You froze, and suddenly your heart was frantic in your chest. He heard… all of that? You’d been so certain he was completely passed out! You hadn’t meant to pour so much truth into the story, but it had happened anyway, and now he knew how you felt. He knew. He saw you begin to panic and reached a gloved hand out to you, which you couldn’t bring yourself to take, but before you could back away from him, he reached for your waist instead, and pulled you in closer, until you were standing between his slightly bent knees as he rested against the bunk. You were flustered and shocked to suddenly be so close to him, and you found yourself having trouble figuring out where to put your hands in the small space between you. He’d never given any indication that he liked it whenever you’d touched him, so you settled for resting your palms on the flat and cool beskar on his chest, with your eyes firmly planted on the diamond shaped indentation at the centre of it.

“It was a very good story. I really liked it.”

Your eyes snapped up to stare at his visor, and you wanted to say a thousand things. But nothing came out. You felt him draw in a shaky breath, before his hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer. Then he bent his head forwards, leaning his helmet against your forehead, and your arms found their way around his waist, suddenly needing to hold him to you, now that he’d finally given you his silent permission.

“Would you tell me another story?”

His voice was trembling just a bit. Just enough that you could tell through the modulator.

“Okay. What would you like to hear?”

“Tell me how the story continues, after the King declares his love for the woman? Tell me how they live happily ever after… and I promise I’ll try to make the story come true for you.”

THE END

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian oneshot #mando x fem!reader #the mandalorian x fem!reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x female reader #baby grogu #baby yoda #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #sweet fluff

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imaginesntingz · 3 years

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Imagine Gaara comforting you when the depression and anxiety hit

Trigger Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Swearing(?)

A/N: Hey y’all! This is my first post on this blog. I hope you all enjoy it <3 Please don’t copy any of my works. It’s all originally written and I put a lot of time and effort into my pieces. Please ask me before reposting.

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You were curled up in bed staring into nothingness. The past week or two you’ve tried to keep it at bay, but you felt the ever lingering depression creeping its way in. Nothing in particular happened. It was just always there. There wasn’t a time you could remember it not being there. Sometimes it was muffled like background noise and other times the volume was turned up so loud it was the only thing you could hear. It was your constant companion following you like a shadow. And to top it all off, anxiety was right behind it. You thought about overthinking and overthought about thinking. Racing thoughts kept you up sometimes until the sun shone through the blinds.

Everyone wondered why you were so quiet at times, but they couldn’t hear the ass beating you were getting from your own mind that made it almost impossible to be in the present moment. Nor could you find the energy, the language, nor a fuck to give to even begin to explain the war going on inside you. Temari invited you out to what you thought would be a small kickback yesterday that ended up being a full blown party. Gaara, who was supposed to go with you, was inevitably called in for village business. You ended up socially tapped after just a few hours in. Although Temari was with you and you met up with some chill friends . . Although you were surrounded by people, you still felt completely alone. Although you heard the words coming out of their mouths, you couldn’t keep up with what they were saying. Although you were physically there, you weren’t there. You wanted so badly to just enjoy yourself like everyone else, but it was what it was. After pleading with your sister in law, you finally went home only to find that Gaara was still in the office. One final push that sent you

Spiraling

down

And there you were exhausted but painfully awake in the darkness of your shared room. You didn’t know how long you were lying there. There was no time, only the bottomless ocean that swallowed anything and everything you tried to drop into it. No amount of journaling, affirmations, meditation, prayer, movement, walking, entertainment, pet cuddling, food, water, medication, vitamins, herbs, epsom salt baths, incense, face masks or any of the methods you’ve tried felt tangible to you in that moment. What was the point when you didn’t even have the will to move? How could you think of going on a mission next week when you couldn’t guarantee you’d attempt to leave your room tomorrow? How were you going to take care of your hair if you couldn’t even braid, twist or put it up for the night? How could you call yourself a caring friend when you’re thinking about canceling the dinner you’ve already rescheduled twice?

“My love? Why are you still awake?”

Your husband’s soothing voice jolted you out of your inner dialogue. You hadn’t even heard him come in, too lost in the wall in front of you.

“ . . . Can’t sleep.”

You heard the sound of the door closing and hushed shuffling as he moved around the room. A few moments later, you felt his weight dip the mattress beside you. A warm arm wrapped around your middle, gently pulling you to his chest. His hand moved to intertwine with yours as he spooned you from behind.

“How did it go with Temari? Again I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go with you. I hope you had a good time.”

“It’s fine. It was fine.” you replied flatly.

Gaara caressed the back of your thumb with his own as silence filled the space between you. His lips met the skin of your shoulder and you felt your body gradually relax into his embrace. He was never one to push you when you weren’t ready to talk and always made you feel grounded back to earth with his very presence. Even amidst his many responsibilities as Kazekage, he always made sure to check in on you and provide whatever you may want or need. He would do anything for you if it meant you would feel loved, safe, balanced and happy. Gaara, sweet Gaara, was the love of your lifetimes and you, his. He knew you better than he knew himself and picked up on every detail. Your likes and dislikes. How you took your tea in the morning. Your sensitivities. Every expression. Your body language. The tone in your voice. The slightest change in your eyes. So it was no surprise that he picked up on the shift in your mood right away.

“(y/n) . . . Sweetheart, It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it right now, but please know that I am here. I love you more than words can express. I am here to listen and support you in any way that I can. I always will be. You know that, right?”

And with that, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Your body trembled as he maneuvered you to face him. He wrapped his arms firmly around you, cocooning you into the safety of his hold. You buried your face into his chest and the calming scent of earth and cinnamon enveloped your senses. Your tears and running nose wetted the shirt he wore, but he didn’t care. Soft kisses were pressed to the crown of your head as his fingers trailed up and down the length of your spine, occasionally drawing soothing circles. You turned your head to listen to the steady rhythm of his heart pressed against you before finally catching your breath to speak.

“I-I’m just so tired of fighting just to be okay all the time. I’ve been taking steps to take care of my mental health, but it still feels like it isn’t enough. It’s like one day I’m fine and a couple days later it feels like I’m back at square one. I just want to exist sometimes. No expectations. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to be anything. I just want to be.”

He squeezed you gently at your words, pausing thoughtfully before responding.

“You once told me that your dream is to become the peace within and despite the chaos inside of you. The chaos all around us. You said that you wish to heal yourself and pass on healing to others. I know it is easy to lose sight of it when you’re in the midst of what feels like a never ending battle, but I wanted to remind you of it because I never want you to lose hope.”

Your eyes widened in shock and turned glassy as he continued on.

“You have brought me out of the depths of the greatest despair and have played a huge role in supporting me in healing from my past. Your love is medicine to my heart. There were times when I was lost that you reminded me to never lose sight of my dream. To never lose sight of what truly matters. Even in the most difficult times, you have always found hope where others have felt hopeless. That is one of the many reasons I love you. I am your husband, so let me be your strength when you are tired and feel you can’t go on because you are my strength, dear wife. We can get through this together. Remember that healing is a lifelong journey, not a destination. So take it one day at a time. Hour by hour or minute by minute if that’s what it takes. You’re so hard on yourself sometimes, but look how far you’ve come to be here. Right now. How much you’ve grown. I want you to know that I am so proud of you, sweetheart. I hope that you can come to be proud of your accomplishments too.”

A fresh wave of tears came over you, but for a completely different reason this time. You practically tackled your poor mans onto his back and your lips met in an intense yet equally loving kiss. His hands worshipped the expanse of your hips and time fell away. Vibrations hummed throughout your body as you pulled back to look into those seafoam green eyes. His red hair and pale complexion highlighted by the light of the moon peeking through the window. He was ethereal.

“I love you, Gaara. So much. I am so happy that you exist. Honestly when you speak so openly and directly like that I feel like my heart is gonna burst through my chest . . . fuckkkk. In a good way though! But seriously, thank you for being you. I never thought I’d be able to say this to someone without fear, but . . when I am with you, I know that I am home. You are my home, love. ”

His eyes softened before a huge grin spread across his now blushing features. Gaara didn’t smile often, but when he did it was a sight to behold. It was like feeling the warmth of a sunrise for the first time. An all encompassing glow.

He sat up and cupped both of your cheeks in his hands, tears now mirroring your own. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Do you know how beautiful you are? Truly? Your beauty radiates from the inside out. Honestly, what have I done to deserve you?”

“Sir, have you taken a good look at yourself lately? That’s my line. Fight me. Right now.” you deadpanned playfully.

A look of genuine concern crossed over his face. His hands settled on your waist and his posture noticeably drooped.

“(y/n), I would never fight you.”

“ . . . Gaara, I was just joking. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Sarcasm?”

“Mhm.”

“ . . . Right. I should have known. I’ll do better next time.” he sighed dejectedly.

Your body shook with laughter at your man’s adorably serious face. He’s always trying his best. Only Gaara could go from holding space through your tears of sadness, to making you cry from happiness, to having you doubled over with laughter within a matter of moments just by being authentically himself.

“I love you so fucking much, my sweet Gaara.”

“And I, you. My beautiful (y/n).”

You both slept soundly that night in a tangle of limbs, not knowing where one ended or the other began. Two, who together, are one.

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haleigh-sloth · 3 years

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Hi 🙋‍♀️ my friend thinks that Dabi is going to be put down(killed) and Endeavor will be the one who’s going to do it as an act of atone. I told her that it was a horrific take because that would be a horrible way to atone and two your essentially saying that Endeavor should re-kill the son he failed and basically killed by his actions of neglect/abuse as a parent which would not be a good path to take! I also stated that three villains are being set up to be saved. She still doesn’t believe me, and asked if I could get a better perspective. So I’m here begging 🙏🏻 🥺 for your input please? Your definitely a lot more perspective and have a better eye than I!

Hey! So I’m going to answer everything, but first ask your friend to provide evidence of this, and to also explain how any of that would be even remotely acceptable to portray in a story that is aimed toward a very large, young, impressionable audience, in which a portion has undoubtedly experienced abuse in their own lives. How would those people feel reading that? What kind of message does that send? Horikoshi isn’t like a writing genius or anything, but he is not THAT incompetent. I mean...do give him credit where it’s due. He’s been building up their redemptions for a long time and he’s already established that as the next narrative challenge for Shouto, Ochaco, and Midoriya. I’m not going to say anything about your friend’s way of thinking because I can’t tell by the way your ask is worded if she believes that’s how it SHOULD go (which is....not good) or if she just has no faith in the writing (which is understandable but I’m gonna try to relieve some of those anxieties). In order to remain polite and civil I’m gonna go with the ladder and assume she just has no faith in Horikoshi, which is understandable, but not necessary! I hope you’re comfortable because this is probably going to be longer than I am anticipating, but oh well.

Anyway, I’ll start with establishing what is deemed acceptable in the world of BNHA as far as killing goes.

*clears throat* It’s not fucking acceptable. Never was, never will be.

Look, please pinpoint to me where a pro-hero in the story has killed a villain and it was viewed as acceptable. And before you point at Hawks, I’m going to direct you here, here, and here. And there are so so SO many more posts I could find and link you to that explain my point further on that matter, but I won’t do that unless it’s asked of me. Regardless, Hawks murdering Twice was not acceptable, it was not portrayed as such, it was not viewed as such by the characters within the story. Therefore, it was not acceptable. And I’m fairly certain Hawks has a really rough road ahead of him because of his terrible choice, so prepare yourself for that. But where was I? Oh yeah, establishing whether or not it’s acceptable to kill:

I mean there are more, but I don’t have all the time in the world. Tell her to read the story from the beginning and pay attention to what the story is telling its readers ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Now, we’ve established that heroes in BNHA do NOT kill. That is not what being a hero means in THIS story. Now, what else is something important in BNHA that has repeatedly gotten focus?

Family.

To me personally, the most important callout to the importance of protecting your family is here:

He’s calling out all heroes, but he’s saying this in front of Endeavor. Important. Note that. There’s an entire subplot dedicated to the importance of portraying that putting your family first is the utmost responsibility of a parent. Outside of that subplot, we are shown the very dire consequences of what happens when parents abandon and reject their children.

Exhibit A: Toga

Exhibit B: Toya, or Dabi

Exhibit C: Tenko, or Tomura

These adults are the result of parents who failed their families.

Look, regardless of what people want to say the story is about: whether it’s about heroes vs. villains (it’s not), or about Midoriya graduating UA and becoming the number 1 hero (it’s not), or about Midoriya mastering his quirk (it’s not), there is no denying that BNHA is about heroes SAVING others and parents protecting their FAMILY.

Horikoshi made it a point to establish a clear difference between the adults and the children in BNHA. He also made a point to show ALL THREE VILLAINS’ origin stories and showed us that all it took was ONE BAD DAY when they were CHILDREN. There is literally a chapter titled “All it takes is one bad day” specifically to drill this into your head. Toga’s life went downhill after attacking that boy in middle school from suppressing her biological nature for so long. Toya’s life went downhill when his flames nearly killed him. Tenko’s life went downhill when his quirk activated and killed his whole family. All it took was one bad day in these children’s lives to completely ruin their futures and take any and every chance away from them at a normal life.

So with the strong focus on heroes saving people and parents failing their children, why why WHY would it ever be acceptable for Enji to KILL his SON? That not only repeats the first mistake made (Toya’s death), but also negates ALL of the narrative focuses of the entire story. I just...that’s a very very deep disconnect that I can’t force closed unless your friend chooses to look deeper than surface level reading. And it’s not just BNHA that has narrative themes and focuses throughout the story. That’s ANY story you read. Well, any good story at least. I’m not a writer by any means but even I know the basic rules of story telling:

Leave a message for your readers. Give your story a goal.

Otherwise it’s just words and pictures on paper that don’t mean anything.

So I gave you the basics of what BNHA is about, now I’ll give the specific moments that directly tell you that Toya, Toga, and Tomura are going to be saved and redeemed.

Toya:

Toga:

Tomura:

Now....does your friend really think these panels up here just mean nothing? Because that’s not how manga works. The panels have meaning, especially the ones given the most attention to drawing detail, the ones given the most space on a page. All of these were given their own big moments in their respective chapters. Toga is going to be saved by Ochaco, Toya is going to be saved by his baby brother, and Shigaraki is going to be saved by our main character Midoriya. It’s clear as day right there.

Now I want to take it back to the Todoroki family for just a bit once more. Their entire subplot revolves around reunification. That has been the established endgame since Shouto’s origin chapters. And honestly? You don’t even have to be smart to figure this out. Like when you see Rei in the hospital, you already assume that she’s going to get out and come home at some point within the story, making the family whole again. THEN you learn about Toya and you learn that he’s ALIVE after ten years of being presumed dead. You really think HE isn’t going to be brought home just like his mother was??? Fam, that is the established goal of the Todoroki Family Subplot. There is no denying this, it is there in the text, and it is not even a little bit subtle. Horikoshi is not subtle. At all. With anything. Ever.

However, no matter how much textual evidence we are given, there are still people living in denial because it’s either A. Not the direction they want, or B. They really just aren’t grasping the writing. Either way, the redemption set ups are there, whether they like it or not. At this point I’m convinced that the only way to shut villain-haters down is to wait til the last chapter has come out and the villains are fine, Toya is reunited with his family, Toga is alive and well and finds community with the other kids (at least that’s what I predict), and Shigaraki is alive and well and surrounded by people who care about him, a family if you will. Other than just waiting for that moment, idk what else it’s gonna take for the bad takes to stop.

Now here’s my reality check disclaimer:

Horikoshi could screw us all and just kill the villains off. But that would be bad writing and also ruin the ENTIRE STORY. And believe me I will bitch and bitch until I am six feet under and I will continue to bitch about it in whatever afterlife awaits me. But seriously..he won’t do that. Not to mention I have a million other reasons somewhat unrelated to the writing but more so to Horikoshi himself as to why I believe with all of my being that the three villains are going to get a happy ending, but that’s a different discussion for a different time. This post is already long as shit.

I hope your friend will look a little deeper at the story so she can enjoy it for what it is. The story has flaws, the Todoroki subplot is definitely a MESS right now because of the focus on Endeavor 🤢, but I believe it will clean itself up and be great in the end. The redemption arcs of the villains are the most interesting thing about BNHA and I know I speak for a lot of others and not just myself when I say this but, the villains are the only reason a LOT of people are still even invested in the story to begin with. If it weren’t for them? We’d all be ghost. So, do with that what you will. I hope this helps ease your anxieties a little bit and helps your friend understand what to pay attention to in the writing.

#LONG ASS POST #SORRY #bnha #bnha meta #bnha asks #boku no hero academia #todoroki touya #todoroki shouto #todoroki enji #todoroki rei #todofam #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki redemption #shimura tenko #toga himiko #league of villains #bnha league of villains #bnha lov #anonymous

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aikrus · 3 years

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What It Means To Be Dead (Tokoyami x Reader)

Fandom: Bnha Warnings: Mentions of Dying, depression, bullying, abuse, and strong language Words: 2k259 Requested By: Anon <3 Request: Hi I love your writing! Can I request one where Tokoyami )or anyone you'd like really,) finds a collection of old-ish diaries and letters while cleaning? The person's handwriting is very distinct and pretty (Think 1700's love letter find) but they never mention their name. As they read more of it they find newer entries where Aizawa is mentioned so they ask him about it only to find out the person who wrote them died almost 100 years ago and 'haunts' the school. (Sorry for long request) A/N: I deviated a little from the request, but I hope you like it!

The night had already came and claimed the land of UA for itself. Shadows overtook the courtyards, and darkness fell across the classrooms, but not everyone had retreated to the safety of their comforters which shielded them from the secrets which the black abyss held so dear.

After a draining day of learning and training, Tokoyami wanted nothing more than to go to sleep- sadly, it was his turn to clean the classroom. It was annoying and boring and he’d give anything to be able to go to sleep, but fair is fair and he wasn’t the tyrannical type.

And so, he washed the windows and wiped down the desks. He swept the floors and organized the textbooks, and he turned to put the broom back into the small closet in the corner of the classroom. With a heavy sigh, Fumikage realized he should probably tidy up the dirty, dust-filled, death trap that was called a broom closet.

Narrowing his eyes at the cobwebs, he started to knock them down with the end of the broomstick (Seriously praying to whatever god there is that no spider fell onto his feathers). The room was in worse condition on closer inspection, it looked like not a soul had thought to clean it since the school was built.

After taking the time to sweep the floors, wipe down the door and the counters, and organize the books, Tokoyami was beyond tired and ready to fall asleep in the still-somehow-dirty closet. No matter how many times he swung at the cobwebs, how many times he picked up the coats and books and papers on the floor, despite the effort he put into tidying up the smallish space, it still seemed to have a weird layer of age coating itself entirely.

The closet felt preserved in time, like the oldness it felt was not just in the items littered about, but in the very walls itself. The things it’s seen, the memories it held, something about the space simply felt... wrong.

He turned to a corner he hadn’t worked on, inwardly groaning at the amount of work he still had to do despite the time of night. With a huff, he began to organize the textbooks and pages of work sprawled around the space.

His hands fell upon and old leather book- very different in both appearance and age when compared to the marble notebooks that surrounded it. Leaning over, he saw ten to fifteen more of there journal like collections shoved deep into the corner of the room.

Tentatively, he peeled open the first book. Looking at the pages, it looked to be the diary of a girl- the beautiful handwriting looked like it belonged to someone who saw the beauty that exists within the written language, someone who stops to smell the flowers, a person who looks at sunsets and bakes goods to say they love you.

The ink that bled onto the early pages spoke of a student, a girl who wanted to be so much more, someone who wanted to save the world. He became enthralled by the speech patterns, the phrases and swirls of the letters drew him closer, enchanting his eyes to never leave the pages.

------

Soon the pages became all he could think about, even after he had to abandon the closet to race to bed. During class all he could think of was the feeling of the crisp paper under his touch. The voices of his friends seemed ugly, seemed to be missing the douse of honesty and beauty he had been exposed to, even when he was practicing all he could focus on was the experiences of the girl who wrote down all her inner thoughts.

It was like she haunted him, appearing everywhere he went. Like she poisoned him, infecting his thoughts and feelings. She became everything to him so soon, every word had him on edge, every sentence a beautiful stream of imagery that he would give nothing but to experiencing along side her, what he wouldn’t give to see the world through her eyes of love.

As the day ended, he had quiet easily convinced Sero that he should take over his night of cleaning. Sure the actual work was quiet annoying, but he would be rewarded with her sweet words, he had left the book in the corner in his rush to get back to his dorm; he regretted his oversight the moment he laid down.

“Tokoyami, wasn’t your cleaning duty last night?” Aizawa asked, his eyes lazy looking up from the papers he was grading to make contact with Fumikage’s red ones.

“Yes sir, it was. I volunteered to take over tonight as well,”

“Mhm, and is there a reason for this?” He raised his eyebrow, dragging his briefcase off the table with him.

“Cleaning helps me think,” this wasn’t a total lie, reading the journal will calm his raging thoughts of the mystery girl.

“Just don’t make a habit of it,” his teacher echoed, not having enough energy to further investigate a seemingly innocent interaction.

Tokoyami was much faster with cleaning that day, and he was even faster to sprint inside the broom closet. He grabbed the leather books and raced back to his room, already feeling the warmth her voice provided.

------------------------------

The passages started off innocent enough, complaints about school, fantasizing about a better life, just a teen writing down their emotions. It then morphed into the beauty in everything, words that didn’t release Fumikage’s eyes until they were tearing up from dryness.

Then, things took a darker turn. Dark thoughts disguised in poems, things others have said to her, representation of her pain in drawings scattered throughout the book. The beautiful world- though still majestic in its own way- turned dark and twisted.

It was painful to read, and yet he couldn’t look away. It was like the book became a part of him- no. It was like he became a part of the book, nothing more than the cracked parchment and spilled ink. It was dehumanizing, but he wouldn’t change his position for anything in the world.

His bed was taken over by the old pages, dating back over two hundred years ago. The writer was in the post-quirk awakening. The world had just discovered the glowing child right before she was born. She was one of the first quirk holders in the world- one of the first one hundred Japanese citizens to have a quirk.

The journals started when she was ten- though that book was the fifth one he read. After that discovery, he categorized them in chronological order to read along with the flow of time. She wrote of the manifestation of her quirk- her parents had been struck with terror when their daughter walked through the wall of their living room to get into her bedroom.

That was the first moment she realized how different she is. Her life never seemed to go back to the way it was before, not even after the initial shock of what she could do faded from her parents; because, there would always be a new shock, a new ability, and no one was prepared to help her.

He realized, reading more about how the quirkless treated her, that her life would have been much different is she had lived in his time. Hearing the slurs and bullying they put her through, he wishes she could see how much the world has changed- would she be happy or sad that her bully's became the minority and were mocked in their normal-ness or if she would be ashamed of the people like her.

He was very satisfied that the people who made her life so awful were getting a taste of their own medicine, but he did wonder if that made him a bad person. Tokoyami figures that it really didn’t matter, she was gone so her opinion would never be known.

--------------------

“Death didn’t feel like I thought it would. Surprisingly, it was reminiscent of when I use my quirk to posses things or people. My body was there, on the floor, but I was floating above it. Much like I am when I leave my body before finding my target. The cold was instantly recognizable- like an abyss with no end.

The only difference I’ve noticed so far is the lack of body to return to, though I can enter it, it acts as an object. While I cannot move it, I can see out of it. It’s therapeutic in a way. Really, this must have been the best case scenario- I could see how everyone reacts, see who really cares about me.

It was hard at first, seeing all theses people, who I believed were simply pretending to care, braking down behind closed doors. It was only my sister- whom held no quirk- that cared. She did everything she could to make my funeral how I wanted it, and she preserved my bedroom the way I liked it. That was a nice gesture, it truly was.

Now my life has come to an end- my body buried under ground, never to be seen again- I can’t help but wonder what comes next. How long will I be held in this mortal world? Will others be like me, or will I be forced to live alone in the agonizing realization that comes with immortality? I guess I’ll simply have to wait and see,”

-----------------------

He had fallen asleep after reading the last passage in the ninth book- where she described how she stayed a student at UA even after death. The names she referenced had been lost in time- Pro-heroes that have long been dead and are now another name on the Hero Memorial wall.

She had possessed her home room teacher and walked to the headmaster- there she said what had happened. Her headmaster agreed to keep her on as a student, but only under the condition that she wouldn’t unnecessarily possess an unknowing student. It was fair- annoying but fair. They gave her her old desk and she worked along side everyone. When he woke up, the book had moved on its own.

There was a page opened- an elegant scipt sprawllled at the top but had been smuged since it was written- the only elligable part following what could be assumed to be a name: Phatom-- The Ghost Hero. The script was familiar, but it wasn’t the handwriting the rest of the journal was written in. Beneath it was a drawing of a girl- a girl more beautiful than anyone Fumikage had ever seen. It was a realistic depiction and it looked modern- it was only with that realization which led Tokoyomi to realize this journal wasn’t one he had seen before. Flipping through it, he hadn’t even noticed its sudden appearance. It was the newest one of them all- spanning for the last decade. He leaned back in his bed and began,

So I guess it’s been a while huh? Here are some general updates: Shouta from class 2-A is an idiot but I guess he’s kinda cute. We picked out hero names today, I wanted to just keep my name but he dubbed me Phantom.. I called him Eraserhead in return. I hope it sticks.

I’ve graduated from UA more than six times now- but I kinda like it. I do some professional hero work- especially info recall- but I’m worried about how the public will react to a ghost. It would definitely fuck with some peoples religious views.

It’s better this way. I’ve also decided to distance myself from Shinso- she and I got along great, but her twin brother has been acting weirdly around me for a while. His quirk is amazing, but I’ve seen plenty of unstable students pass through these halls and I know enough to keep my distance. Shouta doesn’t seem to agree- neither does Hizashi. I guess only time will tell.

As for manifesting my physical form- it’s a lot harder than I had hoped. I can become visual for three active minutes or ten minutes with no moving. I’m still not touchable, but I hope that will change with time. That’s all for now- I’ll try to check in soon.

He shook his head- surely those names must be common, but she was in UA and only so many coincidences can happen at one time. He wonders how she was now. Mostly, he wonders if she’s still at UA. They hadn’t announced her as a student, so was she a pro hero now?

Was it weird to still be in the body of a sixteen year old? There were so many issues with immortality- he wondered how she coped with it. These questions abused him throughout the morning. He thought of how lonely she must be, how it must be so awful to be all by herself.

He wondered why he cared so much- why had he developed such a strong scene of attachement to this girl? The fuzzy feeling in his chest when he saw the drawing of the girl had taken up his entire mind- he needed to know more.

As soon as he entered his familiar class room he marched straight up to his teachers desk with passion in his eyes- “Professor, can we talk after class? I have some questions I’d like to ask you,”

Aizawa glarred at the corner of the room, an annoyed frown tugging at his lips. This was gonna be a long day.

-------------------

A/N

Sorry for dropping off the planet everyone! This has been in the drafts for a long time and finally gets to see the light of day. I’ve had some mental health issues (not related to this story don’t worry) and am working on myself. I fully intend to finish the Christmas countdown I committed to and this account is still active, but this will remain on the back burner until I am well on my way to recovery. Requests will remain open for the time being and I will continue to make progress. Thank you for the lovely anon’s in my inbox with constant support and requests, I appreciate all of you. Thank you all and I hope you enjoyed this work <3

#boku no hero #boku no hero academia #My Hero #my hero academia #tokoyami fumikage #bnha fumikage #tokoyami x reader #tokoyamifumikage #fumikage x reader #bnha reader insert #bnha x reader #tokoyami fluff

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hardcasey · 3 years

Text

Soft Hands, Soft Hearts

Won't Fade into the Background - Part 1

Pairing: Wooley x GN!Reader

Summary: You and Wooley have been pining for each other for a while, but after a few drinks at 79′s, you gain the courage to make the first move.

Word Count: 3.3k

Rating/Warnings: G, this is just pure fluff 🥺

A/N: Okay, so I had the idea to make a series devoted to giving the background clones the love they deserve. I have ideas for a bunch of different clones, but if their are any specific boys you are interested in, please let me know! I started with Wooley because I was feeling soft and he is baby (sorry, I don’t make the rules) 😤 This installment is fluffy af, but I have some ideas for a smutty follow-up if there is any interest.

Also, a HUGE thank you to @delusionsxfgrandeur for both proofreading this and giving me the confidence to post it in the first place 💕

It had been months, but the 212th had finally returned to Coruscant after a particularly grueling campaign. The men, having received a week of well-earned shore leave, had barely gotten their feet on the ground before making a beeline to 79’s. Which is where you now sat, drunk off your ass amidst a sea of white and orange.

You were an information officer attached to the 212th and had quickly befriended many of its members, a feat you accomplished just by treating them with the most basic level of respect and consideration. All it took was you remembering their names and sneaking them in a few treats before they were all following you around like a pack of lost puppies. It made you very protective over them, they all were such good, soft boys who deserved the world. Especially Wooley, the clone currently sitting next to you in the booth you had all squeezed into.

He was younger then some of the other troopers like Waxer and Boil, still too shiny to have earned his colors yet. He was soft-spoken and somewhat shy, which only endeared him to you more. And he also had the softest, fluffiest looking hair you had ever seen, which he wore in an undercut that just accentuated the look for maximum poof.

The only thought in your head right now was how much you wanted to run your hair through it. I bet it feels like a cloud, you thought drunkenly as you stared at him unabashedly, no doubt grinning like an idiot. You had your chin resting in your hand and started to loll your head back and forth, basking in the pleasant buzz of the alcohol coursing through your system. Evidently, it had started to affect your fine motor skills since your chin slipped from your palm and you bumped your nose hard against the rim of your glass.

“Ow,” you winced as you rubbed your face, shooting a dirty look at Waxer as he snickered at you from across the table, drawing the attention of others.

“Had enough?” Cody asked, cocking up his eyebrow at you with a smile, an expression he had no doubt picked up from General Kenobi.

“Mmmh, I think this’ll be my last drink,” you replied, motioning to the half finished drink in front of you. You had reached the perfect level of drunkenness, just enough to leave you feeling carefree and happy without becoming too messy. The last thing you wanted was for one of the boys to have to drag your drunk ass back to your room, especially on their first night of leave.

Wooley caught your eyes as you settled back down, and you shot him a broad smile that made his heart beat faster. He could feel his cheeks heat up slightly and he smiled timidly back at you before you turned back to Cody, the two of you falling into a playful back and forth.

Wooley’s eyes fell to his hands, looking sheepish, and Boil chose that moment to kick him under the table. Wooley made an indignant noise at his vod’s antics, and was about to protest when Boil started darting his eyes at you repeatedly and mouthed ‘Talk to her’.

His brothers could read the hesitation on his face because Waxer swooped in and said lowly, “She’s been staring at you all night, vod. She likes you!”

Both Waxer and Boil knew of his giant crush on you, and had launched a campaign to get the two of you together, much to Wooley’s embarrassment. The two of them were not subtle and the last thing he wanted was the two of them making a scene in front of you. He took a long drink of whatever alcohol was in front of him, hoping to quell his nervousness.

With Wooley’s attention momentarily elsewhere, he missed the moment when Boil caught Cody’s eye and gave him a small nod. The Commander was also privy to their plans and masterfully steered the two of you’s conversation to Wooley’s recent accomplishments on the battlefield.

“You should have seen it, he jumped right on top of the spider spider droid and took it out faster than I could blink, isn’t that right Wooley?”

Wooley froze as you turned to look at him expectantly, barely managing not to choke on his drink. “Uhh, yeah,” was all he managed to come up with in response and he wanted to smack himself. Kriff, why was he so bad at this?

You rattled off a couple more questions at him, which he answered in similar fashion, though if you were bothered by it you didn’t show it. He nervously ran a hand through his hair as he desperately wracked his brain for something, anything to say.

Luckily, he was saved when you blurted out, “Can I touch your hair?” Apparently being drunk made you just say anything, huh, you chided yourself, hoping the booth would swallow you up whole.

You were completely surprised when he stuttered out, “S-sure,” and scooted closer to give you better access. Reaching up and running your fingers through his thick curls, you found that it was in fact softer than a cloud, a thought which made you start to giggle uncontrollably. Your laughter was infectious because soon enough, Wooley was laughing too.

You kept slowly playing with his hair, your hand sometimes wandering to the sides to feel the short hairs there. A shiver ran through his body at the sensation “That tickles,” he told you, eyes half lidded and words slightly slurred, though you couldn’t be sure if it was from the alcohol or something else.

Your fingers paused. “Oh, sorry. I can stop if you want.”

You started to pull your hand away but he caught you around the wrist gently. “No!” he said, maybe a little too loudly. He winced slightly and then much more softly he said “I like it,” before placing your hand back on his head.

You smiled and told him, “C’mere,” pulling him closer so that he could rest his head on your shoulder. “My arm was getting tired. This is much more comfy.”

“Mmm,” he agreed as he shifted to settle against you. His cheeks were still pink but he seemed much more relaxed now.

“So it sounds like you’ll be getting to paint your armor orange soon, huh?”

His eyes brightened at that and your heart clenched at the proud look that washed over his face. “Yeah! I have a few ideas of how I’m gonna paint it, but I haven’t decided on a final design yet.”

“What are some of them? I’ll help you make up your mind.”

~~~

By the time you all left the bar it was early in the morning, but the streets of Coruscant were still packed with people, all hoping to enjoy the first day of the weekend. You and the rest of your group weaved through the throngs of people as you made your way back to the barracks. Being short, you had a harder time pushing your way through the people and almost got separated from the group before someone grabbed your wrist and tugged you back into the group.

You stumbled towards whoever had rescued you, looking up to see it was Wooley. “Don’t wanna lose you,” he said gently and you felt your heart do a backflip. He had no business being this cute! None at all!

He hadn’t released your wrist yet, and maybe it was the alcohol making you braver than normal, but you decided to slip your hand into his. When he realized what you had done, he looked down at your joined hands and smiled up at you before the two of you raced to catch up with the rest of your group.

When you finally arrived at the barracks, you were about to reluctantly pull your hand away when Cody said, “Wooley, why don’t you walk her back to her room, just to make sure she gets back safely. We don’t want to lose our favorite information officer.”

“Uh, yes sir!” Wooley said with a salute, though he misjudged the force of his hand somewhat and thwacked himself in the eye instead. He was just thankful he had the alcohol as an excuse for his mistake, instead of the real reason, which was the look in Cody’s eyes that said ‘If you don’t ask her out tonight, you’ll be on latrine duty for a week.’

Without further ado, you bid the rest of the boys goodnight and started off towards your room, still hand in hand. Even though it was calloused, his hand was still so warm and nice against yours, and you never ever wanted this to end. You squeezed his hand lightly and your heart soared when you felt him squeeze back.

The walk to your room was about a thousand hours too short and you quickly found yourself standing in front of the door.

There was a beat of silence where the two of you just started at each other, both unsure of what to say. Wooley was racking his mind for a way to ask you out on a date, desperately hoping you couldn’t feel how sweaty his palm was.

You beat him to it, though, and asked, “Do you have any plans for this week?” If you don’t I was thinking we could, um, do something together tomorrow.” Your bravery faltered somewhat halfway through, but it didn’t matter because his eyes lit up and he nodded back vigorously.

“That sounds great!”

“Okay! I’ll think of some places we can go and text you in the morning so we can decide.”

“Great!”

There was another beat while you had an internal debate with yourself. Did you kiss him? Should you ask or just do it? Should you wait to see if he kissed you?! Little did you know that Wooley was having the exact same debate in his head, only about 100 times more panicked.

You decided that you had no more bravery left tonight and settled on running your hand up his arm and giving his bicep a little squeeze. “Goodnight! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you,” was all he could come up with as his brain short circuited. He watched with an awestruck expression as you went into your room, staring at the metal door in a daze for much longer than he’d like to admit. He realized he would look like a creep if he just hovered outside your room all night and quickly made his way back to the barracks with the biggest smile on his face.

The door to the barracks slid open and he paused as he came face to face with all of his vode, who all turned to look at him as he walked through the door. Even Cody had yet to retire to his personal quarters.

“Well, how’d it go?” Boil was the first one to break the silence and ask what everyone wanted to know.

“She asked me out!” Wooley told them, still smiling broadly.

The room was filled with cheers as all his brothers crowded around to congratulate him, patting him on the back and ruffling his hair affectionately. Despite all the attention, Wooley couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed.

~~~

“Try the other jacket,” Boil said from his perch on the top bunk.

Wooley shucked off the jacket he was wearing and quickly slipped his arms through the jacket Cody held out to him. “How do I look?”

“Hmm, let me see the first one again.” Boil’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he contemplated Wooley’s current outfit. They had been at this for the last twenty minutes, trying to figure out the best outfit for his date, which was happening in less than an hour.

“There are only two jacket options! And you’ve worn both of them multiple times, Boil!” Wooley moaned. The clones didn’t have much access to civilian clothes and the few they had managed to commandeer - mostly from the Lost and Found in the Coruscant Guards’ office - were shared between the lot of them. There was even a clothes economy of sorts that had developed between the various squads. In fact, the jacket he was currently wearing had been Cody’s prize for beating Rex at a game of Sabacc a few cycles past.

Wooley sighed before shooting Boil an apologetic look. He didn’t mean to sound unappreciative, after all his brothers had awoken early just to help him prepare, despite the hangovers they were undoubtedly nursing. He was just starting to feel nervousTM again.

Cody put his hand on Wooley’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re overthinking it, vod. Remember, she asked you out. She wants to spend time with you.”

“Who asked who out, now?” came a voice from behind them. They spun around to find General Kenobi leaning against the doorway, a steaming cup of caf in one hand.

“Wooley has a date today!” Waxer blurted out, smiling smugly as his younger brother shot him a look before turning back to address the general.

“They are, uh, trying to help me pick out an outfit to wear.”

“We can’t decide on a jacket, though,” Cody chimed in, holding the other option up for Obi-Wan to see. “What do you think, sir?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes flickered back and forth, rubbing at his beard absentmindedly as he considered. “Actually, I have something in my quarters that’ll go well with the whole look. You can borrow it if you want, Wooley.”

“Oh no, sir, I couldn’t poss-” Wooley started, but the general ignored his protests, already starting to drag him towards his room.

Wooley stood ramrod straight in the middle of General Kenobi’s bedroom as the jedi rummaged around in his closet to search for the jacket in question. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act in this scenario, they had never covered it in training. Though he had learned that there were many things involving General Kenobi that he had been totally unprepared for.

“I know it’s in here somewhere.” Obi-Wan’s voice was muffled from behind the wall of clothing. “Ah, here it is!” He exclaimed before making his way back to Wooley. He blinked owlishly at the poor trooper in front of him, who looked so stressed out he was beginning to wonder if he’d need to call a medic.

“Is this your first time going on a date?” He asked gently as he helped Wooley into the jacket, spinning him around to fuss with the collar a bit.

“Is it that obvious?” Wooley asked with a shy smile.

“Everyone is nervous on their first date, don’t worry. I remember the first time I went out with someone. My hands were shaking so much I ended up accidentally spilling water all over them. Trust me, it gets easier,” he finished with a warm laugh.

Wooley was included to believe him. General Kenobi seemed to have a lot of experience in the romance department. Or at least it seemed that way, what with all the people who fawned over him. Maybe he would have some good advice for the question that had been plaguing his every thought since last night.

“Um, general, if I could ask… how do you go about, uh, kissing someone for the first time. I asked some of the others for tips and they all had different ideas, which just made everything more confusing.”

“Honestly, my best advice is to just ask them if you can kiss them. Many people find that really romantic. Wait for a moment that feels right, like a lull in the conversation when you two are close together. But most importantly, don’t stress yourself out about it. If it happens it happens, and if not just wait for another chance,” Obi-Wan patted Wooley on the head affectionately. “Now you should probably get going, you’re meeting them in twenty minutes.”

“How do you know-” He didn’t even get the question out.

“Cody.” Obi-Wan’s commander had come to him this morning seeking advice to give his little brother.

“Cody,” Wooley smiled fondly. He’d have to thank his commander later.

~~~

You were waiting on the sidewalk in front of the barracks, shuffling your feet awkwardly as your planned meetup time drew nearer. The two of you had decided earlier to spend time walking around one of the huge seasonal markets that was in town for a few days. You hadn’t gone on many dates before now and this morning had been a whole debacle, your roommate helping you pick out the perfect outfit for the occasion. You had eventually settled on something casual but still cute, and sighed with relief when you saw that Wooley had a similar idea. You were starting to worry that maybe you had gone too casual.

All of your nerves melted away once you saw him, looking like an absolute snack in that leather jacket. You decided to tell him as much as you offered him your hand.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you out of your armor. You look handsome. Love the jacket.”

Thank the Maker for Obi-Wan, Wooley thought as he took your hand and squeezed it fondly. “You look really great too!” He told you as the two of you made your way to the taxi stand, both pointedly ignoring the eyes of Wooley’s brothers trying and failing to be discrete as they started at you through one of the windows.

You two made your way downtown to the market, which was a place where people from every corner of the galaxy would come to sell their wares. It seemed to span multiple city blocks and was absolutely packed with people. The two of you flitted from one booth to the next, marvelling at the exotic wares in each one. As you shopped, you both ended up finding little trinkets and buying them for each other as a way to remember the day.

Before you knew it it was lunchtime and stopped to grab some food from one of the many vendors. The two of you found a place to eat nearby a troupe of street performers, snuggling up to each other as you ate and watched the show. When you got up, Wooley kept his arm around your waist and you were so happy that you were pretty sure you could leap twenty feet in the air like you had seen some of the Jedi do.

You passed by a stand selling cotton candy and could’t pass up the opportunity to see Wooley’s face when he tried it for the first time. You ripped off a big piece and held it out for him to try.

“It dissolved!” He said excitedly and you were pretty sure there were actual stars in his eyes.

As you and Wooley split the cotton candy, he thought back to what Obi-Wan told him and wondered if this was one of the moments he was talking about. You two were so close to each other and your lips were glistening pink with sugar and, Maker, he wanted to kiss you so badly right now.

He had just opened his mouth to ask you when a nearby animal bleated loudly. Your head whipped in the direction of the noise and from between people’s legs you spotted a small white animal that looked so incredibly fluffy.

“Oh stars,” you whispered, “It’s so cute. C’mon Wooley let’s get a better look!”

Without waiting for an answer, you started to tug him in the direction of the ball of fluff masquerading as an animal. He was briefly disappointed at the missed opportunity but was quickly distracted by the adorable animal in front of him. It was some sort of sheep-looking thing, only neither of you had seen one so fluffy. It’s fur was so thick that you could barely make out its face, making it look like a cotton ball with four nubby legs sticking out of the bottom.

Your head darted around looking for the owner because you had to pet it NOW. Your eyes landed on an elderly Ugnaught woman settled in a rocking chair. She was working on a knitting project, her knitting needles moving a mile a minute, and the displays around her were filled with bundles of plush looking yarn.

You waved your hand to get her attention. “Hi! Is this your sheep? Can we pet it?”

The old woman pushed the pair of thick, round glasses she wore higher up her nose as she spoke. “Of course, dearie. I have some food here if you’d like to feed her. Just cup your hands out like this and she’ll come right over.”

The woman poured some pellets into your outstretched hands and you quickly knelt down to offer it to the sheep. It let out another little bleat as it approached before promptly gobbling up everything with fervor. You giggled at her antics, her soft little tongue tickling your palms.

“Baaaaaa,” she whined up at you once she had finished, and the old lady scolded the little animal for acting like she was starving when she had just eaten an hour ago.

You turned to Wooley, who had been watching your interaction from off to the side. “Do you want to try feeding her too?”

“I-I’ve never fed an animal before…” He said hesitantly.

“Don’t worry, it’s easy. I can help you if you want.” When he nodded you told him to cup his hands and the woman poured some more food for him to give the sheep. You had him kneel down next to you and helped him hold his palm out, cupping your hand under his. When you felt him trembling slightly, you ran your thumb soothingly across his wrist. He turned to look at you and, oh maker he was so close, you could just lean in an inch and kiss him. But no, you couldn’t get distracted right now, you had a hungry little sheep to feed.

You both turned back to the matter at hand and Wooley made a little noise in the back of his throat when the sheep came up to him, but he kept his hand out and the little animal started inhaling the food. “Ahh, it tickles!” Wooley gasped, a huge smile on his face.

Once you were done giving her treats, the three of you settled down on the floor of the little tent, the sheep moving between your laps as you took turns cuddling it. You both ended up taking pictures of each other with the sheep and the old woman even offered to take a picture of both of you with the sheep. You sat there for a while, chatting with the old lady, who had lived quite the life and had many interesting stories as a result. The conversation trailed off and you sat with your head on Wooley’s shoulder, the only sounds around you were the din of the market and the clacking of the woman’s knitting needles.

You peaked up at Wooley only to find him staring down at you. There was a beat before he suddenly asked, “Can I kiss you?”

He was about to start berating himself internally for asking so awkwardly, but all his thoughts stopped when you breathed out a soft, “Please.” And then you were cupping his cheek and pressing your lips against his, and nothing mattered anymore. You let out a contented sigh against his mouth and he moved his hand to rest on your hip.

You were both reluctant to separate, but a tug at your hair made you gasp and pull away, only to find the sheep chewing on a lock of your hair. Behind you, you heard a chuckle and you both turned to see the old woman looking at you both with a knowing twinkle in her eye. Both of your faces heated up as you realized you had just started kissing right in the middle of her store. The two of you started to apologize but she brushed it off with another laugh.

“You know, there is a tree in a park a few blocks from here. They call it the Lover’s Tree. My husband and I used to sneak off there for a bit of privacy,” she told you with a wink.

You thanked the woman profusely and even ended up buying some yarn as a thank you. Before you left, you both gave the sheep one more pat on the head before taking off and running towards the tree hand in hand.

#clone trooper wooley #wooley #wooley x reader #clone trooper wooley x reader #clone wars fanfic #star wars fanfic #reader insert #i tried to think of soft things t\for them to do on their date... so cotton candy and petting sheep #also i imagine the sheep thing to look like the pokemon wooloo because wooley would DEF have one if he was a pokemon trainer

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therealvinelle · 3 years

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Maybe this is bold of me to ask, but are there any deleted scenes from your fics, or scenes you had consideted writing but didn't? And if yes, would you be willing to share them someday?

Oh no problem!

Usually when a scene is deleted it stays deleted, so I don't have a lot to give you. There are a few things that were cut in betaing for various reasons, I can put a few of them below a readmore in this post.

There's the prologue that never was to Nebuchadnezzar's Dream, from back when the fic was supposed to be told alternately from Bella and Carlisle's respective points of view. In the prologue we saw how Bella, Alice, and Edward came to the point where they decided to overthrow the Volturi. Or, we would have, except I didn't actually like that prologue, and found myself jumping straight to writing chapter 2, the "Carlisle is at a party and gets attacked by a werewolf" chapter instead. My good beta @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin asked why I didn't simply make the whole fic from Carlisle's point of view, I realized she had an excellent point, now here we are.

For that matter, this is nowhere near the only significant change that happened to this fic during writing. One example, in the original outline I never brought up Carlisle's gift. Two significant things in the last chapter were not planned until after I published chapters twelve and thirteen, respectively (Luckily for me it'll look like I plotted them all along, so yay for that). For a tightly plotted fic, this one has had a lot of leeway.

Slight caveat, as I’m self-conscious: with most of these you will probably be able to tell why they’re deleted scenes. Especially the prologue. God, that prologue.

(Also, for the record yes I do write other things, but due to 1. being betaed, and 2. being long, I really only have examples for Nebuchadnezzar's Dream.)

The prologue that never was. Apologies for the fluff saturation:

The Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar II once had a dream.

There was a statue that was gold on top, then silver, then copper, then iron, then clay and iron. As he watched, a rock struck its feet, and soon the whole statue crumbled, leaving nothing but rubble. The rock then grew into a great mountain that covered all the world.

This, the prophet Daniel told the king, was a message from Jehovah.

The statue represented five great human empires, the golden head being the Babylonian Empire, and the following three being those who would come after. The last would be both iron and clay, a divided kingdom. It will fall, and then the kingdom of Heaven will come, crushing those empires in its path.

Thousands of years later, in 1453, the Byzantine Empire fell. The last of the Roman Empire, a divided kingdom, had fallen.

The Christian world trembled, because reckoning was surely near. With the fall of this last, great human empire, all the world would fall to rubble.

Fifteen years had passed.

The Cullens had left Forks behind, settling in the small town of Grafton, Idaho. Carlisle had quickly settled into the new hospital, and Esme had designed a beautiful new home for them while the rest attended the new school. Jasper and Rosalie were Carlisle’s younger siblings while Bella, Edward, Renesmée and Esme comprised another set of siblings. Alice and Emmett were the fosters.

Jacob wasn’t far, he still lived with his old .

«Did you hear they all scored an A on Mr Rosen’s test? Seriously, all of them!»

The words were uttered by Jenna Gilbert, a blonde sophomore who reminded Bella very much of Jessica Stanley. She was sitting on the opposite end of the cafeteria from Bella and her family, though

«Jen, it’s the Cullens, that’s just what they do. You should stop comparing yourself…» her friend said soothingly.

Bella ducked her face into her hand to hide her smile, and winked at Alice, who grinned back at her.

It was Bella and Renesmée’s first time going to high school as a vampire. It was exactly what Edward and Alice had said it would be, for better and for worse.

For the worse, because she spent her days pretending to be a human girl, never using her strength or speed, pretending Edward wasn’t her husband and Renesmée wasn’t her daughter.

For the better, because she got to spend every day with Edward, Renesmée, and the rest of her new family. The others had done the high school routine too many times to see things the way she did, and Renesmée had never known a life without the Cullens, but to Bella, attending high school as one of Dr. Cullen’s adoptive kids felt like she had truly come full circle since that first day she spotted Edward in the cafeteria. She was one of them, truly, irrevocably, and high school was nothing if not a promise of the countless years to come surrounded by the people she loved.

Edward caught her eye, and she smiled back at him. She lowered her shield briefly to show him how happy she was to be with her family.

His face softened into that beautiful, lop-sided smile of his, and he leaned in to whisper into her ear, «You’ll be less happy when you’ve been through English 101,» he said.

«Hey, hey,» Jasper said quickly. «Don’t you dare, Edward, I need all the happiness I can get in this place.» He locked eyes with Bella. «Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.»

Bella laughed, and rested her head on Edward’s shoulder. He placed his hand above hers on the table, and she smiled. «Not a problem, Jazz.»

Jenna’s voice caught her notice again. «Look at how they’re sitting! Try and tell me they’re not incestuous, Cam. Just try.»

Her friend didn’t reply to that one, although a quick glance informed Bella that the girl was staring at the Cullen table with a frown on her face.

Bella and Alice caught each others’ eye again, and this time they couldn’t hold back the giggles.

***********

Later in the day, Alice’s eyes lit up. «You’ll receive a letter from Stefan and Vladimir a week from now,» she chirped.

«Oh!» Bella exclaimed. «What does it say?»

«The usual,» Alice replied, her eyes slightly distant as she concentrated. «They hope we’re all doing well, and they included a new story of how things used to be before the Volturi. It’s the story of how they once built an entire temple for themselves in just one day. Oh, and they have a new phone number. O-seven nine six five nine six.»

Bella’s eyes widened as Alice talked. She hoped they had included drawings of that temple, it sounded incredible.

Bella hadn’t expected the Romanians to stay in touch, when they left after the thwarted battle with the Volturi she thought they would slink back into the old European shadows they had cloaked themselves in for that past several thousand few years, not to be heard from until some new threat to the Volturi loomed.

But no, that very next Christmas Bella had received a gift from them. It was an old, if flaked painting of Ivan the Terrible looking a lot like Vladimir, and a note from Vladimir explaining how he fooled all of Russia into believing he was their ruler for decades, all right beneath Aro’s nose. Carlisle had broken into a fit of uncharacteristic giggles when he heard that, and even agreed to put the painting in the hallway. To this day, he’d huff with silent laughter whenever he walked past it.

After that, Bella and the two Romanians had been in touch. They’d send her gifts, stories, and their own observations about the Volturi, and she’d respond fondly.

It was a very unlikely friendship, but she was was eternally grateful to all those who had stood with her family when the Volturi came. The Romanians were no exception,

«Are you going to call them?» Alice inquired.

Bella nodded. «They were going to tell me about their visit to Thebes.»

(Outline: Prologue of sorts. Status quo update, everyone’s happy except for the part where the Volturi are waiting to kill them. Alice, Bella, and Edward form their plan. Alice sees that she’s going to have to send Carlisle away, and coincidentally his hospital colleagues are having their Christmas weekend in Montana. PERFECT. She talks to him.)

***********

Heavily altered scene from chapter 7

Carlisle makes more jokes than he did in the final product, they're unfunny to the point where my beta said "you can't publish this", the plague joke in particular is a bit too dark for him so I gave it to Jane instead. More importantly, the chapter itself has a very weird, clunky start:

«Is it the gift of being profoundly unimpressed by ridiculous claims?» Carlisle deadpanned. «Because if so, Aro, I think you might be on to something.»

Several seconds had passed since Aro made his ridiculous claim. At first, Carlisle had burst out laughing. Then, as he realized he was the only person in the room laughing and Aro was staring at him in full seriousness, his laughter had trailed off and he’d been left to stare dully at Aro for several long seconds, waiting for Aro to crack up and say «gotcha!».

Aro never cracked up.

Carlisle had absolutely no idea what Aro was playing at, especially not immediately after Carlisle had very reluctantly decided against shutting him out of his life.

«You can’t be serious,» he’d said.

Aro had sighed. «I’m afraid I am.»

And now, at Carlisle’s deadpan guess, Aro only shook his head. «Not quite.»

Carlisle stared at him for another second, before he ventured another, scathing guess. «Are you hoping it’s the power of being highly suggestible? Because I definitely don’t have that, or I would have abandoned my diet centuries centuries ago.»

Aro just looked at him. «If you would let me explain-» he began, but Carlisle cut him off.

«No, no, you want to try and convince me I have some sort of gift, then I want to guess at what you’re going for,» he said, crossing his legs at the knee and propping his chin up on his knuckle in a faux-pensive look.

«Now,» he continued, even as Aro gave him the world’s most unimpressed glare, as if Carlisle was the one who was being ridiculous, «I’m pretty sure I would have noticed the power to throw fireballs by now, so it can’t be that,» he mused aloud. «Same goes for the power of…» he searched his mind, «turning into a bat. That one would definitely have come up at some point. Or maybe I should suspend myself upside down in a cave. See if it triggers anything. Just to be sure.»

«Carlisle,» Aro murmured, but Carlisle wasn’t done.

«Maybe I spread disease. My father certainly thought demons did. Maybe that’s why I get so many interesting patients. Those brain fungi,» he nodded towards Renata, who was still sitting with the book open in her lap, «I’ve had two in one year. That’s a lot.»

«Carlisle-» Aro tried again, but Carlisle held up a finger, a wide grin spreading across his face.

«The power to change my eye color. You see, yesterday they were black-»

Aro actually rolled his eyes at that. Of course, he made the insolent gesture look like a fluid, enchanting movement.

«Yes, quite funny, now if you would let me explain…» Aro tried again while Carlisle tried not to snicker at his own joke.

***********

Two deleted paragraphs from chapter 9. The alteration was made because it was a bit on the nose about what Renesmée does.

Humans were mammals, and mammals were hardwired to protect their young. This extended across species, making mother cats care for puppies and humans care for anything that was small and cute. The instinct to love and cherish anything cute and helpless was an evolutionary necessity, and had to run deeper than anything if a species wanted to survive.

Enter Jane, who was the smallest, cutest thing Carlisle had ever seen, but from a species humans instinctively knew to fear. Maybe the very fact that she was something that humans knew they should want to care for made their fear exponential, made it impossible to deny that something was very wrong about her, that they were looking at a predator.

Perhaps too there was something to vampires having retained some of that human instinct to protect their young, if the countless stories of covens dying to protect their immortal children was anything to go by. Carlisle himself had been no exception when the Volturi came for Renesmée, even as he found himself risking the lives of countless friends.

How far things had come, he thought, from preparing to die along with his loved ones at the hands of the Volturi to sitting across a café table with Jane and pitching costume ideas.

***********

Chapter 9 was heavily altered, mainly as it was too funny the first (and second!) time around and I kept having to return to insert more existential dread. A side effect of this is that Carlisle in the original draft was still undecided on whether he had a gift up until the very end of the chapter, whereas it's proven beyond a doubt much earlier in the published version.

Jane was looking a bit daunted, though it was nothing compared to how Carlisle felt.

Silently, they went to stand in front of one of the many sports stores that Whitefish had to offer.

«This could still be confirmation bias,» Carlisle whispered, and leaned against the wall. For all the human blood that was in his system, his knees felt oddly weak.

Jane let out a startled laugh. «You’re seriously still in denial?»

Carlisle shook his head quietly. «They reacted pretty reasonably, just because they didn’t run away screaming…»

«Reasonably?» Jane echoed dully. «Carlisle, you can’t actually…» she shook her head. «Remember that bubble we talked about?»

Carlisle put his head in his hands, and let his fingers move up, under the wig, pulling it off in one neat motion.

Jane shook her head at him. «You look even more glamorous with your real hair.»

Carlisle still said nothing, balling the wig together in his hands.

Could it be he actually had a gift?

***********

The chapter 11 outline originally had Renata and Carlisle failing to communicate like normal people because they've spent too much time with Aro, and unintentional innuendo keeps ruining their attempts to make polite small talk. Sadly (or happily) this is a lot easier to conceptualize than carry out in actual writing, and their conversation wound up being far too serious for that, so it was cut. Luckily for you I did pen Carlisle flashbacking to a time his foot got in his mouth:

The moment after the words were out her face scrunched up.

Carlisle snorted. «Aro is a horrible influence on us all.»

He remembered one of his first talks with Jasper, when they were still getting to know each other.

Jasper had been a little starstruck when he learned Carlisle’s friends in Italy were those Italians.

He’d asked Carlisle a lot of questions once he got past a misplaced sense of awe, wanting to put a face to the eternal, petrified, leaders of the vampire world.

During a hunt with just the two of them, Jasper had been asking about Aro’s gift.

«What do you even think about when you’re with him?» Jasper had marvelled aloud, and he would later explain that the way he say it, this was like the way the Egyptian gods supposedly measured souls.

Place your heart upon the balancing scale against the weight of a feather, and if your heart weighs heavier it is devoured by the demon Ammit.

Place your hand in Aro’s, and if he deems you guilty of breaking his law, you will be torn to pieces in the space of a second.

Being friends with the man sounded unbearably stressful to Jasper.

Unfortunately, Carlisle’s mind had gone in the opposite direction, and what came out of his mouth before he could stop himself was, «England.»

He’d covered well enough for that, or he hoped he had. Jasper never asked.

***********

Chapter 11 was also supposed to have Renata being brave enough to ask for a selfie with Carlisle when they're both in black robes, this because I just really want Edward to sift through the Volturi group chat after all this and finding that. Alas, I couldn't work it in there. (Determined to not lose the joke, I had Aro take the photos in chapter 12 instead.)

***********

Chapter 12, the fandom ghost requested I include another butt slap and offered me fanart if I fulfilled her wish.

And so:

He held up a hand, presumably to touch Carlisle’s arm in comfort, but just then Alec started retching.

«He ate human food,» Jane deadpanned to Demetri, Felix, and Renata. Shaking her head, she brushed Alec’s hair out of his face as he hurled into the river.

Aro grimaced slightly, his hand hovering in the air.

Carlisle felt all the bread, corn flakes, and water that he’d swallowed press uncomfortably against his esophagus. «I’ll do you one better, Alec,» he choked, before he span around, fell to his knees and started retching, much like a cat.

Aro, evidently not sure what to do with his arm but not about to let it drop purposelessly, gave Carlisle a supportive pat on the bum before kneeling beside him to hold his hair as he hurled.

It was funny, but simply didn't fit the tone considering what happened after. It had to go. But hey, I got the art.

#there's more but these are the things that came to mind #my fic #nebuchadnezzar's dream #fic spoilers #of sorts kinda #doktrajediscovery

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