#And also I think all the anons who thought they were alone in their opinions would also like to thank you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cannellee · 1 year

Note

MIKEY! ALPHA! HEADCANONS! WE NEED THEM! i love all your works, please continue to try your best!! (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾ you’re the only blog that we can count on for amazing cute abo fanfics! ♡ 🍓

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ★

alpha! Mikey x omega! Reader

— tokyo revengers a/b/o headcanons

tw : mikey's a perv, outdoor sex.

my masterlist : ☆

(thank you so much anon!! I'm so happy you like my blog, thank you for keeping me motivated!!🫶🏼 I also included nsfw headcanons here since I had 2 other requests for alpha mikey which included this)

I think alpha mikey's main trait is that he's extremely protective.

he's protective but not in an overwhelming way, he's way more subtle than baji can be for example. glaring at anyone when you got your back turned, but he's giving you an angel face when you face him.

mikey's a walking warning for everyone and alphas know better than to challenge him.

you might think mikey is a passive type of lover, unbothered and going with the flow. people could think that you're the one leading the relationship but you're not.

as long as you're not hurting yourself or others are not bothering you, it's all good.

but a no from mikey is a no, and a firm one at that. no negotiations or compromises : mikey's your alpha and he knows better.

and that's why you trust him! you listen well and he loves that about you.

you're such a docile omega! mikey's melting everytime you obey him so quickly without questioning any of his words.

but he has to admit there's something about you being bratty that amuses him.

he loves to see you act all big and sassy : it makes him want to show just who is in charge!

but mikey's very soft. don't misinterpret his assertiveness as him being controlling. he cares about you and your opinions more than anything.

he takes your thoughts into account so much that a simple word from you could have him doubt himself.

he's anxious and always stressing over his capabilities of fulfilling his duty as your alpha.

this worry alone pushes him to do his very best at looking after you.

when you first met mikey, he knew you were gonna be his. he couldn't have it any other way. you were just so perfect for him : his complete opposite, a breath of fresh air.

if you had a partner when you met, you should have been ready to say bye to him because mikey was not letting you go around with someone that wasn't him.

one might think mikey's not attentive, reliable or understanding and that he's a bit detached, but that's a misconception.

actually, mikey's really soft and cares for you so freaking much :(

he's a huge fan of skinship, hugs, hand holdies and anything of the sort.

he lives for the attention you give him! if you're ignoring him too much for his liking, especially when you're out with people, he will kindly remind you of his presence and casually spread his pheromones.

mikey can act cute all he wants, but once anyone gets a sniff of his scent, they'll be fleeing far from the both of you.

his scent is literally threatening to anyone that's not you.

of course you don't know that, mikey doesn't want to scare you off. but he can't help but get overly jealous sometimes!

and it works everytime : nobody wants to get on his bad side.

also, don't expect mikey to make you food, he's hopeless when it comes to cooking. but he will be buying you toneless of snacks and sweets though.

but make him food and he falls in love all over again. food is literally mikey's weak spot and there's just something about seeing his omega takes care of her alpha the best she can that is so endearing and cute to him.

asks you to spoon feed him and while you do he'll 100% make a mess purposely & ask you to clean his mouth yourself...

he's down bad and always touching you. there's something primitive in him which highlights his possessive instincts whenever you show yourself a bit vulnerable to him

as your alpha, he feels deeply touched that you're feeling safe enough to show this side of yourself and does everything he can to assure you that you can, in fact, trust him fully.

your small frame and doe eyes looking up at him make you look so delicate, it sparks up his protective instincts and a comfortable sense of purpose. knowing he has someone to come back home to, someone who'll always be waiting for him warms his heart.

mikey is all about staying inside : he's a lazy and cuddly alpha, he could bet he's in heaven when you let him lay his head on your lap while playing with his hair.

your nest is his favourite place. he's inside of it even when you're not, even adds his own little plushies and stuff, scents them and rearrange your nest.

you constantly nag him about it because you hate it when someone is moving your nest, even if it's him.

he apologizes and offers to make up for it by eating you out lol.

he has no shame and is dying for your touch. he loves the way you taste! your slick is filled with your fruity scent and makes his head dizzy.

if you were to let him, mikey would be fucking you 24/7 without a rest. he's just addicted like that<3

don't expect him to be slow and gentle, mikey likes it rough and so do you, luckily.

expect to wake up the next morning covered with bruises and bite marks : he likes it so much when your whole body is a reminder of how much you belong to him!

let him scent you and claim you the way he wants and you have the happiest mikey on earth!

but mikey'll take you out! he loves late night dates and watching sunsets with you <3

always gives you his scent covered coat to keep away both the cold and unwanted attention from you.

during your walks, mikey's body and mind are only focused on you. his senses are alert, he's careful and very observing. nope, you're not getting out of his sight tonight and nobody's getting too close to you.

but it doesn't stop him from being a perv.

you've learned not to wear skirts or dresses when you're out : his hands magically grab the hem of your skirt and flick it just to sneak a peek at your undergarments.

the embarrassment you feel is insane, but what's more insane is the pool that's forming between your legs everytime he does so.

your arousal is so strong it drives mikey mad and you're somehow still surprised when he appears to not be able to control himself.

"my sweet omega, be good for me and spread your legs".

he ends up fucking you in a dark alley, your panty pushed on the side and your skirt all the way up with your bare ass out.

you're bend over with your hands on the wall while he's pounding into you from behind just the way you need it!

he's fucking your brains out and you find yourself crying both from pleasure and the exciting fear of being caught.

once you've both cumed, he carries you back to the safe place of your home where he can please you properly. because you and your pleasure matter more than his >:(

(and also because your aroused smell is enough to attract all the alphas of the neighbourhood and mikey doesn't want to fight when he's too busy burying his cock inside your warm pussy).

your presence gives him so much peace, there's not a day he's not grateful to have you. you're the only one who can make him sleep soundly at night and actually appreciate life.

his nightmares and urges are now under control. you keep him composed. just one look at you and your pheromones (his favourite smell) suffice to put his mind at ease.

the first time he introduced you to toman, he made sure they all acted right in front of you. they were a bit surprised by you and how kind you were compared to the invincible mikey, but everyone knew you were the perfect match <3

randomly calls you during the day and comes pick you up after school. he's your personal bodyguard and takes his job rather seriously tbh. asks you what you want to eat and buys everything you ask.

making sure you ate is his priority n.1! he needs to make sure you're well taken care of.

doesn't show it but he's always worried about you.

mikey doesn't let his emotions show, he only lets himself be vulnerable in the comfort of your embrace.

he's always carrying an item with your scent and expects you to do the same.

he's soo loving and affectionate, alpha mikey is the perfect mix between a guard dog and a big teddy bear. it's all about balance!

1K notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 11 months

Text

JJK men after hurting (y/n)

Pairing: Choso x reader; Gojo x reader

Word Count: 4,7k (Gojo's part is huge)

Warnings: this is drama over drama so be prepared, injury in Choso's part, mentioned pregnancy and breakup in Gojo's part, also Geto is an a-hole in here and it isn't 100% accurate to the original story-timeline, it's getting veeeery heated my lovelys, but also comfort but mostly hurt

As usual, I am very thankful for every little like, comment or reblog (thank you anon hehe). Let me know what you think of this, I literally poured my heart and soul into these two parts <3

Tags: @sanicsmut I just know you'll like this girl, @chilichopsticks

Choso Kamo

„(y/n), this is nothing I will discuss with you right now. Just stay here.”

“I can’t let you kill him, this isn’t right. His death won’t bring back your brothers!”, you shout urgently, hands desperately trying to keep him from walking away.

“I always appreciate your opinion and support. But this is something I have to do for myself. Don’t get in the way.”

With one last glance back he’s gone, lost in the neon signs around you, shadow immerged into darkness.

Your brain goes into panic mode immediately, palms sweaty just by the thought of him haunting that boy down. How strange it is that you are able to call Choso your boyfriend. Choso Kamo, a reincarnated curse that is over 150 years old. Choso Kamo, who seems cold-hearted to people when he first meets them. Choso Kamo, who loves his family more than anything else.

You know this isn’t him, that killing Yuji Itadori is nothing but an act of revenge for him that he hopes will make him feel better.

“But how does killing someone else solve your problems?”

He never answered this question. He didn’t have to, given the fact that he just stared at you with furious eyes. You know all too well how it broke him to lose his brothers through the hands of some random jujutsu sorcerers. Fuck, you were just as heartbroken as he was. But if revenge is the only solution, wouldn’t this little game go on to infinity?

This isn’t the way, this isn’t the man you love. And you won’t let him go berserk only to regret what he did later on.

There is only one thing you can you now.

Your feet start moving on their own, following his shadow through the dark hallways of Shibuya’s train station. You aren’t a very gifted jujutsu sorcerer, maybe a grade 2 in sorcerer terms. But maybe your presence will be enough to stop him. Maybe his love is greater than the hatred he carries in his heart for that Idadori boy.

After all, it is a miracle in itself that he really loves you, a human being. Instead of killing you right on the spot he decided to safe you and even take care of your multiple wounds back then when you first met. You are not only hopelessly in love with him, but owe him his life. It’s time for you to give something back.

The only thing that echoes through the hallways are your very own rapid steps and sharp breaths. Please let him be okay, please let him still search for that boy. Your forehead glisters in sweat, the area only illuminated by the changing neon signs.

Finally a sound. You stop in your tracks immediately and close your eyes while holding your breath. It’s far away, but those are steps and dampened rumbling. It has to be him. And he’s definitely not alone.

You can’t waste any time. As fast as your shaky legs carry you, you run down the hallway, eyes roaming around to catch a glimpse of his dark messy hair. Did he found Yuji Itadori? From what you’ve heard, Sukuna’s vessel is a quite skilled jujutsu sorcerer himself. But despite that, you know how much power Choso holds. If they meet, there will definitely be a fierce fight and your boyfriend might get hurt in the process.

But Yuji gets killed.

Suddenly water starts to soak into your shoes, pooling the surrounding area entirely. You furrow your brows. Where the hell is that coming from? Aren’t you underground? And also, it wasn’t raining outside…

Instinctively you follow the stream, noises growing louder and louder. Your heartbeat picks up, eyes wide open in realization. They have to be in there, in that toilet. The only think you are able to do is run. Water splashes around you, completely taking your already dimmed sight under the purple neon lights.

Until you see your boyfriend. Bending over the severely injured body of what looks like Yuji Itadori, fist ready to hit him with his last shot.

You don’t know what has gotten into you. Before you are able to even think about a plan you sprint forward and shield the boy’s body with your own.

Only to get hit in your stomach with full force by your own boyfriend.

For a moment you forget how to breathe, the only sound being the constant ringing in your ears along with a silent cough. Are you dead? You can’t tell with your sight completely turned black and your empty head.

“(y/n)”, is all Choso is able to breathe out.

It happened so fast he couldn’t react anymore. Within the split of a second, he was only able to direct his fist away from your head into your stomach.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

A trail of blood escapes your lips along with a cough, gaze completely empty. Did he kill you? His guts turn, he feels like fainting away. Oh god, what did he do?

“(y/n).”

You shouldn’t even be here in the first place. He told you to stay out of this, to leave this to him. Why on earth did you throw yourself in front of Yuji Itadori? How could you risk your life so reckless?

“(y/n)?”

You don’t react, glossy eyes wide open, directed into darkness. His shaky hands pull up your shirt, revealing a huge bruise. He broke a few of your ribs, that’s for sure.

“(y/n)!”, he begs again, repeating your name over and over like a prayer.

His hands grab your body and pull you away from Itadori while all he can do is kneeling next to you. Are you even breathing? Fuck, you are so cold and completely soaked in water that still pours down without mercy.

“(y/n)…”

His hand caresses your cheek gently. You just have to wake up. This is a bad dream, right? He didn’t just punch you with full force, he isn’t responsible for you laying here with broken bones and bruises. No, he didn’t just hurt the love of his life, his precious girlfriend.

Are those tears running down his cheeks? He can’t tell. The water pouring down on him makes it hard to see.

“Don’t…kill…him…”, you suddenly mumble.

Choso feels like flying and dying at the same time, relieved by hearing your voice while being absolutely crushed be the fact that he is responsible for your poor state.

“Why did you throw yourself in front of him, (y/n)? I never wanted to hurt you. I would have never hurt you…”, he stutters, pressing your upper body against his.

You cough violently, feeling as if your spilling your guts out every second. God, you feel terrible. If you move a single inch you’ll faint away into darkness.

But despite the pain that rolls over you like a tsunami, you force your eyes to look at him? His beautiful screwed up face, his glistening eyes. Is he crying? This might be the first time you’ve ever seen him like this.

“I know you didn’t wanted to hurt me. Did you kill him?”

Your voice isn’t more than a fade away whisper, almost too distant to get under the pouring water. But the second your words reach his ears, Choso can’t hold back any longer.

He’s crumbling in front of you like a piece of paper, hands holding onto you for dear life.

Choso almost killed you. The love of his life, the only thing that’s worth living. And for what? Because he was seeking revenge.

“But how does killing someone else solve your problems?”

Your wise words repeat themselves over and over in his head. Fuck, if he only listened to you. He shouldn’t have agreed to work with Geto in the first place out of sheer rage. No, he could lay in bed with you at the moment, hearing about what is currently happening at Shibuya in the news.

Then this wouldn’t have happened. Then you wouldn’t lay in front of him severely injured.

His whole face is screwed up, trembling fingers clenched to tight that they bleed while a sob escapes his lips.

All of this is his fault.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I’m so so sorry”, he cries out, placing his head on your chest.

“Is he dead?”, you croak out, tired eyes wandering to the boy’s unconscious figure leaning against the wall.

“Yes…Yes he does…”

A weak smile forms on your lips. So this wasn’t in vain. After all, you reached your goal.

“Thank god…”, you mutter.

Choso’s guilty conscience eats him up from the inside. Why? Why the hell did he think killing Yuji Itadori is a good idea in the first place? Despite the deaths of his brothers, despite all the pain he’s been through, despite the fact that he isn’t even human.

He loves you with all his heart. Your gentle disposition that is the opposite of his cold-hearted one. Your friendly smile that outshines his emotionless expression every time. The way you love him although he didn’t even know what love is when he first met you.

You showed him so many facets of life and he tramples on all the things you taught him.

“I will get you out of here. And I promise will every fiber of my being that I will change, that something like this will never happen again”, he blurts out.

“You don’t have to change, darling. You just need to decide on your perspective of life.”

Everything hurts, you feel like dying from the inside. Although you don’t seem to bleed externally, the stinging taste of blood in your mouth tells you you are severely injured. A load moan escapes your lips when Choso gently lifts you off the ground, body screaming out in agony.

With a gentle kiss on your forehead and tears still running down his cheeks. Something like this will never happen again. Not through the hands of others and especially not his.

God, never again will he ever hurt you.

Satoru Gojo

Your fingers tremble uncontrollably as you try to figure out what you hold in your hands. Is this…positive?

Are you really pregnant?

Two lines. Two clearly visible lines. You feel like fainting and flying at the same time, your thoughts are racing.

Is this really happening? Are you dreaming?

No, the proof lies visible in your hands. You are pregnant. You are expecting a child with Satoru Gojo.

“Listen (y/n)…I’ve been thinking about this for a while now…Have you ever thought about having a baby? I mean, you’ve been my girlfriend for more than 6 years, my fiancé for half a year. I’ve never seen me as a father and I know this isn’t the best timing considering what’s going on in the word at the moment. But the thought of you with a precious baby belly, a child with your eyes…This thought filled me with so much joy recently that I wanted to talk about this with you.”

You couldn’t find words, his sudden outburst caught you off guard. But oh how much you thought about that too, how it would feel to have a child with the man you love more than anything else on this world, to start a family with Satoru. Tears started to sting your eyes, arms wrapped around him tightly.

“I would absolutely love that!”, you cried out, face buried against his broad chest while he stroked your hair just the way you like it.

“We don’t have to rush anything. Just living like usual without protection”, he mumbled against your head.

“I love you so much, Satoru. Nothing makes me happier than being with you. And maybe next year there will be three of us.”

He smiled down at you the way that always makes you see stars. God, how much you love that man. The thought alone to spend the rest of your life with him and your little family filled your heart with nothing buy warmth and joy.

“I love you too, sweetheart. More than anything else”, he mumbled.

Satoru. What are you supposed to do? Call him, text him, drive to Jujutsu High? You’re on your day off while he told you this morning that he’ll teach the new student, Yuta. As much as you’d love to get in your car immediately and meet him in person, you shouldn’t disturb him right now. No, this is something special. This needs time, a calm evening and privacy.

A little message can’t hurt though.

Hey babe, can’t wait to see you tonight. I’ve got some exciting news. Love you <3

You let out your shaky breath, eyes darting to the test again. Is this really your life? It surely can’t get any better than that.

-Satoru’s POV-

“I hate so say it, but I guess there’s no way out of this”, Shoko comments.

But there has to be. After all, he’s the strongest, he’s the only one who’s able to protect you right. This shouldn’t be the only way to save you, there has to be more.

“I will find a way around this”, Gojo hisses through gritted teeth, hands so tensed up that his veins pop out.

“You can’t. There’s absolutely no way to keep her save. She’ll insist on going with you if you tell her. And if you don’t she’ll find out and come to your place. Or worse, someone else will find her. She is the safest when she’s gone.”

Fuck. Satoru slams his fist against the table, blood squirting. He knows she’s right. Deep down, he is very aware of the fact that no matter how he twists and turns it, you’re in danger. Suguru made that very clear. He has to make a decision now, even if it breaks his own heart.

“So what’s the solution then, huh? Breaking up with her?”, he barks at Shoko.

“If you really want to make sure that she’s safe and gone, yes. Aren’t her parents living far away from here?”

That’s not what he wanted to hear. Thick rage crawls up his spine and takes his sight. He’ll kill all of them. Every single one of these curses and Suguru’s accomplices. This shouldn’t be the only way, he shouldn’t have to break the heart of the women he loves most.

Fuck, how much he hates to see you cry. Just a few days ago, he told you that he wanted to have kids with you, to start a family, he proposed to you. This will not only break your heart, but shatter you into million pieces.

“I get that it’s rough and that you don’t wanna do it. But if you want to make sure that (y/n) is safe, you have to make her believe that it’s over.”

“What if I’m hiding her somewhere at Jujutsu High? What if I’m staying by her side?”

“She’ll never allow that and you know it. (y/n) would rather die herself than letting other people suffer because you aren’t there.”

She’s right. Deep down Satoru knows that every word Shoko says is true.

- Later that evening –

You almost fall off the couch in excitement when you hear keys turning in the lock. He’s finally home! It must have been a pretty rough day if he wasn’t even able to reply to your text. Your fingers hold onto the test in your hands for dear life, heart jumping up and down in joy. How will he react? Will he laugh, will he cry? You don’t know. But he’ll surely be cheerful.

“Hey babe, I need to talk about something with you!”

The sound of your joyful voice alone makes him want to break down. Fuck, you don’t deserve this, none of this is your fault at all. So why does he have to break your heart so violently? He shakes his head, blindfold covering his already glossy eyes. There’s no way out of this. He needs to hurt you in order to save you.

“Oh, there you are”, you breathe out when you catch a glimpse of him.

Satoru looks as breathtaking as always, albeit a little drained. It must have been a rough day for him. But your news will definitely brighten up his mood.

“Babe, there’s something absolutely exciting I have to tell y-“

“(y/n)”.

The harsh tone in his voice quiets you down immediately, the grin on your face washed away in the wind.

“I have something to talk about”, he announces.

Why does he have to be so cold? What has gotten into him? Worry lines disrupt your face.

“Oh, did something happen?”

The innocent tone in your voice kills him right on the spot along with your stunning glimmering orbs…No, he needs to do this. After all it’s for your well-being. You’ll see that too, hopefully.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

You hold your breath, eyes scanning over his stunning face for any hint of sarcasm, for an emotion. But no, all he does is staring down at you with stone cold orbs, arms crossed in front of his chest.

You feel like fainting, world collapsing around you. No, this can’t be true. He can’t be serious. Not long ago, he told you he wants a child with you, he asked you to marry him. Your heart clenches, tears start glistering in your eyes. This has to be a nightmare.

“No”, you breathe out, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I’m breaking up with you, (y/n)”, he insists.

This isn’t a joke or a dream. You can tell that he’s serious, that he means every word he says.

“Why?”

“I don’t love you anymore.”

You can’t believe your ears.

“Just yesterday, you told me over and over how much you love me, you…you had sex with me, Satoru. Just a few hours ago.”

You can’t stop your tears from falling anymore, the feeling of this indescribable loss pulls the ground from under your feet.

“It meant nothing to me.”

His words hit you with full force, pushing you to sit down in order to not collapse onto the floor. Was all of this a game for him? And what about…?

Oh god, you feel like throwing up.

“I’m pregnant, Satoru.”

His heart stops. Your voice isn’t more than a fade whisper, almost too low for him to understand. Did you really just say that?

“What did you say?”

“I’m pregnant!”, you suddenly scream on top of your lungs.

Pregnant… You’re pregnant. You’re expecting his child, the child he told you he wants. You’ll be family! This is absolutely fantastic, you have to celebrate-

No. Satoru stops the seed of joy in his heart immediately. Now is not the right time for that. After all, he’s about to break up with you at the moment.

“I don’t care.”

His word cut through his very own heart like a knife, your face twisted in agony simply takes his breath away. You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve any of those venomous words he spits at you. But he does it so you are safe. Yes, over and over he tells himself that this is for your best, that at least you’ll be out of the firing line. You’ll be safe and sound, you and his unborn child.

“Leave this place, stay with your parents or something. I don’t want to see you here any longer.”

In this moment, you feel like dying. Your past, present and future plays itself in front of your inner eye, reminding you of all the precious moments together. Was all of this a lie? Does he even care about you?

Like in trance you get up, grabbing nothing but your wallet and phone. You need to get away from here before you break down completely. If this is how he feels, he doesn’t deserve to see your grief.

God, he wants to break down in front of your feet, completely mesmerized by the way you carry yourself so well after his harsh words. Hopefully you will understand that he did this for you. Even though he broke your heart, you’ll live. And this is all that matters…

“Goodbye then, Gojo.”

The venomous sound of his last name out of your mouth makes him collapse onto the couch the second you close the door behind your back, tears glistening in his eyes.

Why? Why on earth did this just happen? Why did he have to hurt you like this? God, please let you understand it when all of this madness is over. Please let you be okay…

- Day of the night parade –

“Oh dear, look at this”, your mother breathes out while turning up the TV volume.

You gaze at the flickering pictures without any emotions, dark circles surrounding your eyes from all the nights without any sleep.

Satoru? You haven’t heard a word from him since that evening. That evening that altered your brain chemistry forever. That evening that showed you his real face. Since you’ve had nowhere else to go and wanted to be as far away from him as possible, you stayed with your parents ever since.

“What is going on at Tokyo?”, your father mutters.

Huh, looks like absolute chaos. Your eyes widen at the sheer amount of destruction, the reporter whose head gets ripped away by…

Your heart sinks.

This was a curse, without any doubt. What about Satoru?

No. You shake your head vehemently. This isn’t about him. What about your students, Nanami, Shoko, all the others? Are they okay? What is going on there? Suddenly you feel like standing up, too excited to sit.

You swore to never step a foot into Jujutsu High again, to start over somewhere else. But this…You can’t just sit here in silence with all your powers while your friends might die through the hands of curses.

“I need to leave”, you announce.

“What? But you said you want to stay here. (y/n), if this is about him…-“

“It’s not”, you interrupt your mother immediately.

“I need to watch after my friends.”

Yes. Screw Satoru and whatever he’s up to. Mindlessly your hands caress your little bump. This is your responsibly, the least you can do.

- At Toyko –

“Gojo-sensei, (y/n) is here”, Maki announces through her communicator as you walk through the barrier with ease.

Impossible.

His eyes widen in pure horror. All this pain and grieving over the last few weeks, all the nights he cried himself to sleep because he missed you, the countless thinking about your precious little baby.

And now you’re right here where you shouldn’t be, running into the arms of Suguru without even knowing it.

“Oh, I didn’t expect he’d be so dumb”, a painful familiar voice behind you suddenly speaks out.

You turn around, taking in the appearance of none other than Suguru Geto.

“Are you responsible for this whole mess?”, you question.

He steps forward, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. Fuck, this isn’t good. Suguru is a special grade, he could kill you without even trying. Are your students around? Maybe they are at Tokyo, maybe they are safe.

“Did Satoru send you here? Apparently he doesn’t care about you”, Suguru’s voice comments dryly.

Your heart immediately stings in agony, fingertips trembling. Just a few innocent words that break you completely after weeks of pretending you’re okay.

“He broke up with me a few weeks ago”, you clarify.

Suguru breaks out in hysteric laughter while all you can do is stare at him and hold back your tears. How is he able to laugh about your feelings? Before he went berserk, you and Suguru got along pretty well. What happened to him?

“3 weeks ago, maybe?”

You tilt your head. Why that question? And why…why is he so accurate?

“Yeah”, you mutter.

“How ironic.”

“What’s so funny about that, asshole”, you bite back.

His figure comes to a stand so close to you that you can feel his breath creeping across your face.

“It’s funny that he tried to save you and now you’re standing right in front of me, (y/n).”

His words pull the ground from beneath your feet, thoughts racing so violently that you feel like throwing up. What did he say about Satoru trying to save you? What is all of this about? You lose your cool completely.

“What the hell are you talking about?”, you yell into his stupid smirk.

“I gave him an ultimatum. But now that you’re here already…Let’s get this over with.”

You aren’t able to properly understand a single word as he hounds a curse your direction.

“Why are you even here?”

Where is Satoru? What is going on here? Where are your students? So many unknown variables, so much pressure. You need answers.

“I’m here to kill Yuta Okkotsu.”

Your heart sinks immediately. Yuta? Suguru is probably on the hunt for Rika. No, you can’t let him get away with this.

“Over. My. Corpse.”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Oh dear (y/n). I always liked your charm, but nothing better than that.”

It’s hard to keep up with him without any weapon. Where is your dagger when you need it? You only have your powers and your combat skills to attack him. But Suguru isn’t dumb. It’s almost frightening, the way he keeps distance between both of you.

Your baby. Fuck, you need to be careful. After all, stress isn’t beneficial for your pregnancy.

And dying too.

-Satoru’s POV-

He runs as fast as his feet carry him, vision clouded by thick fear. He did all of this for you, to keep you out of grip for Suguru. And now you’re facing him alone, his students not able to help you. What about the baby? He needs to hurry. If Suguru harms one single hair on your head…

“Get away from her. Now”, he barks at his former best friend, positioning himself in front of you just in time before one of Suguru’s curses hits you.

“Ironic, isn’t it? That you even scarified your relationship only for her to run into my open arms.”

“I never thought you would go this far. She’s not only a jujutsu sorcerer, but my girlfriend. I thought you are better than that. Keep your hands off her or you’ll regret it.”

All you can do is stare at his broad back with tears glistening in your eyes. Is this why he broke up with you three weeks ago and left you alone pregnant? To keep you out of sight from Geto?

“Leave this place, stay with your parents or something.”

These three weeks of torture, of asking yourself over and over why you weren’t good enough and where you went wrong…because he was worried?

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”, you cry out, slamming your fists against his back over and over.

“Why did you just leave me like that? Why did you not leave me any choice? Why would you leave me standing in the rain pregnant? Why did you do this to me-“

“(y/n)”, he interrupts you, glossy eyes darted at you in a way you’ve never seen before.

Satoru grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him.

“Because I couldn’t stand you getting hurt”, he breathes out.

“Because I knew you wouldn’t watch out for yourself. Because I knew this was the only way to keep you safe, even though it meant breaking both of his into pieces. Trust me, I hated myself every single day over the last three weeks, wondering every miserable second how you’re doing. It made me lose my mind, (y/n). And now you’re here, right here where you shouldn’t be.”

“I’ve got hurt the second you broke up with me just after I’ve told you that I’m expecting your child!”, you scream into his face.

All the pain, the grief, the longing, the waiting. Everything crushes down at you and swallow you whole. All of this was in vain.

“I never stopped loving you, (y/n). On the contrary, my love for you is greater than my longing after you.”

For the first time since you’ve met him, you can see him cry. Tears roll down his face uncontrollably, the ocean blue of his eyes disrupted by rough red.

“I don’t mean to interrupt your little moment here, but now that you’re already here, I can kill you, right?”

As if in slow motion Satoru turns around to his former best friends, hands clenched into fists so tightly that blood spills.

“I will make you pay for every tear (y/n) spilled, for these weeks of torture. You will regret your threat for every single fucking day.”

“Let’s get it on, then”, Geto remarks dryly.

...

Hope you're doing fine. If you're still able to, feel free to tell me whenever you want a part ll of this and with you. Thank youu <3

801 notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 7 months

Note

Hi!! How do you think potential meet cutes with Jason would go? Do you think he’d be instantly smitten? He strikes me as the type to get a crush on you since the first meeting but maybe I’m just delusional 🥰

My honest opinion but I don’t think Jason likes smut books. He doesn’t mind a little bit of smut but would much prefer if it was nonexistent or didn’t take up a ridiculous amount of pages/chapters in the book in general.

I’m also a delusional twat anon who believes Jason would feel something upon first meetings, but firstly I have to heavily disclose that most of your run ins with one another would be in a book store/cafe, at least more so then anywhere else. (Book reader Jason supremacy!)

So to say that your interest was peaked upon first spotted a six foot something, beast of a man standing in front of the romance section, holding two different books -which were both written by the Jane Austen- in each hand was an understatement.

Normally you wouldn’t expect a man like Jason in the romance section of a small, quite but quaint bookstore/cafe, withholding an internal conflict over some books in his head as though his life depended on it. However the fact still stands that you deeply appreciate a man with good taste in his personal readings, and wasn’t afraid to indulge in the romance genre.

It probably also didn’t help that he was a conventionally attractive man with short dark hair with a tuft of white embedded in his fringe and wearing a simple read hoodie and jeans, a simple attire that anyone could wear, but on him he made it seem as though it were a main staple of his wardrobe.

Jason, knowing when he’s being watched, as quick to look over his shoulder but what he wasn’t expecting was to see someone as cute and stunning as you standing there. He’s a little tongue tied but that was mainly from surprise, and for all of Jason’s hard attempts of trying to act natural, it only made for a spectacle that you couldn’t help but view as endearing and kinda cute.

‘You alright there?’ You’d ask with a smile.

‘Yeah. I’m good, fine even.’ Jason replied, internally cursing himself for being caught off guard because he was too involved in debating which book to take home to read.

‘So…You like Jane Austen?’ You asked, trying to make room for a conversation to occur between the two of you.

‘Wha-‘ Jason looks down at the books in either of his hands and chuckles. ‘Yeah, she’s one of my favourite alongside the likes of Mary Shelley and Louisa May Alcott.’ He answers and he could tell that he had gotten your approval with the little hum of acknowledgment.

‘Do you come here often?’ You then said before adding with an awkward laugh of your own, ‘I mean I come here quite frequently as it’s the only bookstore in town that has proper books that aren’t smut books, and i have never seen you before until well…today.’ Jason smiles, finding himself growing to like you with every passing moment as he felt himself grow relaxed within your presence, especially now that he had long deducted that you weren’t a real threat.

‘I’m with you on that pretence, it’s seems that nowadays all the bookshelves in most stores are prominently smut books of lacklustre quality and story structure.’ Jason agreed, noting being a fan of those types of books himself, Jason had found it becoming increasingly difficult to find decent books that weren’t smut, badly written girl boss self inserts, or just poorly written in general. So when he stumbled across this little book store on his way home and took a chance by entering the store, only to find himself spending way longer than he had initially thought.

And that was just in the romance section alone. That’s how Jason knew this bookstore was unlike all the rest in Gotham.

‘But as to answer your question, I come here on the off chance when I’m looking for a new book to read, seeing as I have read and re-read the books in my personal possession multiple times over.’ Jason admitted and feeling a little bashful but reading had proven to be a form of escapism for him- especially after everything he has been through recently- he felt as though this escape from reality was severely overdue.

‘You’ve got your own collection of books? Am I allowed to assume that they’re mainly Jane Austen’s body of work or?’ You trailed off, feeling yourself growing more confident with talking to Jason as though it was as easy as breathing. Finally you had someone to indulge in this sort of conversation with without it feeling forced and fall to the wayside, leaving you both to soak in the awkward and stifling aftermath.

Jason smiled genuinely as he bowed his head and raised his hands. ‘You got me down to a science…’ he trailed off once realising that he didn’t know your name and cursed himself for his lack of even the basic of etiquette.

‘Y/n.’ You told him with a smile.

‘Y/n.’ He tested out your name, letting it linger for a little bit and quickly came to the conclusion that he liked it. He liked it a lot. And you liked it also, especially when he was the one saying it the way he did just now.

‘Well it’s nice to meet you y/n. My names Jason.’ Jason then said and he knew that he’d come to like the way you said his name as though it were a mythical word;

‘Jason.’ You uttered, saying every word with care and respect that it left a weird feeling within Jason’s chest that only seems to grow and spread throughout his body the more you talked.

You two would talk for literal hours about your favourite book genres, characters and so on to the point that the owner of the bookstore would have to remove you both from the premises himself. He’d then proceed to go on about how you both were just taking the piss at this point and muttering about having to stay an while longer to properly close up shop, count the cash float, and so on before then making the journey home.

He honestly didn’t care about the books in Jason’s hand, just lets him have them for free on the pretence that both he and you get the fuck out before shutting and locking the door behind you both.

‘Well…’ Jason trailed off, tucking the books under his arm. ‘Will I see you again? Preferably here?’ He asks and you smiled sheepishly.

‘Depends, will you?’ You countered and Jason could feel the smile on his lips grow at it’s own accord. ‘Yeah, I’m definitely coming back if I get free books for every time I stay until closing hours.’ He jokes and you lightly smack his bicep, keeping your hand there for an unreasonably long time but it’s not like either you or Jason cared in that moment.

‘Then I guess I’m obligated to come back here to help you piss off the bookstore owner.’ You replied with a smile of your own as you both kept looking into the other’s eyes. You both knew something had blossomed here today at this run down bookstore, and you both hoped that it could continue like that for a long while, but neither of you were willing to admit your embarrassingly rapidly growing attraction to one another. That could wait for another time.

‘Great.’ Jason said.

‘Great.’ You echoed. ‘See you soon I guess.’

‘Soon can’t come fast enough.’ Jason replied ask you both went your separate ways with eager anticipation of your next interaction.

#jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc x y/n #dc comics x reader #dc fic #dc fanfiction

348 notes · View notes

ladylokilaufeyson5 · 1 year

Text

I Will Always Find You

I WILL ALWAYS FIND YOU | Azriel x Fem!Illyrian!Reader

REQUEST(S): hello! could i request and azriel fic? where reader gets badly injured and azriel saves her? thank u so much! – (anon) hi! i saw you asking for azriel requests where reader gets kidnappped? lot of angst and fluff please! 💕💕 – (anon)

SUMMARY: Five times Azriel wanted to tell Y/n he loves her, and the one time he finally did

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood and injury, unrequited love (it’s not, Az & Y/n are just stupid), swearing, mentions of alcohol and drinking alcohol, kidnapping, one brief thought of sexy times, kind of angst but not really, and a bit of fluff

WORDS: 4.6K (oops)

NOTE: I am literally in love with the 5+1 trope so I hope this works for you both 🙂 Also I did not proof read so enjoy<3

Laughter filled the living room of the River House on the night of the Winter Solstice, and it flitted through the air, such a stark contrast to the pain and suffering they had all felt only two years prior. It sounded strange to Azriel — the joy and happiness of his friends and family. He hadn’t been sure that they were going to survive the war against Hybern, but he thanked the Mother every day that they did. He thanked the Mother that she had mercy, that she kept you alive.

Your laughter was the most contagious of the group, and Azriel couldn’t help but allow a small chuckle to leave his lips as you laughed at the gift Cassian had gotten you — a rubber practice sword, so that Cassian wouldn’t get as many bruises and scrapes while sparring with you. You smiled widely at Cassian and gave him a big hug, kissing him on the cheek in thanks. Azriel watched as you sat back down on the couch beside him, the grin still etched on your face.

“I’m thinking more drinks,” Cassian suggested, standing up and clapping his hands.

“Count me in,” Mor grinned, rising and rushing down the hall to the kitchen.

Cassian swore and chased after her, and Feyre and Rhys stood up, chasing the other two. Elain and Nesta left next, arms linked, and Amren sighed before following the group, leaving you and Azriel alone together.

Azriel cherished the moments he had alone with you. With only the two of you, it felt like all of your attention was on him, which was all he’d wanted for the past three hundred years. He wanted you, wanted every part of you. Wanted to hold you close at night and wake up with you in the morning, wanted to know what your bare skin felt like, what your lips tasted like.

But he’d never told you that, for a varying amount of reasons. The first was you deserved better – you deserved someone better than him, someone worthy of your love. You deserved someone who could offer you the love and affection you were entitled to, someone who you would want love from. Because why would you want to be loved by Azriel? He was practically invisible – as the silent shadowsinger, people rarely paid attention to him; some barely even knew he was present.

But not you. You always seemed to know when he was around – your gaze would find him in a crowded room, and you always asked for his opinion on things. But just because you cared what he was thinking, it didn’t mean that his love was requited.

“You’re not getting another drink?” you asked, taking a sip of your own.

Azriel simply shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll bring the whole bottle. Or maybe more.”

You laughed lightly, the sound filling Azriel with no small amount of warmth. He loved that he was the one who coerced that sound out of your lips, that he was the one who made your face brighter. He wanted to tell you that, but… how could he?

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, and you rested your head on his shoulder. Azriel’s mind screamed at him. Tell her that you love her! Tell her now, tell her now, tell her now! But it was just a friendly gesture – he was sure of it.

Maybe I could work up the courage…

But it didn’t matter, because laughter rang down the hall, and then Cassian was running through the living room with a bottle in hand, the others following close behind. The moment passed and you laughed at your friends’ antics, leaving Azriel to sigh internally. He wasn’t sure whether it was from disappointment or relief.

~ * ~

It was cold. That was the first thing Azriel registered as he looked around the nightmare. It was a stark contrast to the flames and burning of his own. The snow glistened in the moonlight, the only solace in the darkness of the freezing forest.

The dream faded in and out, as if there was a door opening and closing between himself and the dreamscape. But he felt cold as he curled up in the snow, his wings bleeding and shredded, his wrist sprained and thigh screaming in pain. As he raised his head, he glimpsed a flash of light reflecting off of a blade. Illyrian warriors came into view, and with a jolt, Azriel realised where he was.

Or rather, where you were. Because this nightmare… this nightmare was yours. Azriel remembered these males, remembered how he cut them down for hunting a female Illyrian for sport. He didn’t know you then — it was the first time he’d seen you. Bloody and shaking, your wings torn and broken, bone jutting out of your thigh… it was instinct that had him killing the males within seconds. Instinct that caused the roar in his head, instinct that made him need to protect you. Instinct that made him go over to you and pick you up gently, cradling you close to his body.

But in your dream, Azriel didn’t arrive. The males came closer and closer, laughing and taunting you, until they were close enough to grab your wing and snap–

Azriel awoke with a fight thrumming through his veins, the need to hurt and maim and kill screaming at him — but he was alone in his room in the House of Wind. His thundering heart slowed as he took deep breaths…

A muffled sob had his head turning sharply to the door. It was barely audible, but…

There it was again. A frantic sob, so quiet he almost didn’t hear it. He was out of bed in an instant, walking out of his room and into the hallway beyond. There was another sob from your room, and a cry of anguish. Azriel knocked, but there was no response. There was another cry of pain, and consequences be damned, Azriel opened the door.

You were twisting and turning, your scarred wings tense and tear tracks on your cheeks. You were still asleep, still stuck in that dreamscape… Azriel was at your side in a second, hesitating for only a moment before gently grabbing your shoulder.

“Y/n?” he murmured.

Another whimper. He shook your shoulder with a bit more force and you shook out of his grasp. He grabbed you again, cupping your face with one hand.

“Y/n, it’s just a dream,” he assured.

But you still did not wake up. Azriel usually wasn’t one to panic, but seeing you in this state… It made him frantic. So he mustered as much authority as he could, and ordered, “Y/n, wake up!”

Your eyes opened and you shot out of your bed, flipping him and landing on top, a dagger pressed against his throat. Had he not been worried about you, you would be on the floor, knife discarded across the room. But he stayed still as your wings flared behind you, and as your knee pressed into his chest.

“It’s okay,” he breathed, watching you carefully. “It was a dream, Y/n.”

As if saying your name had snapped you out of a trance, you stumbled back, removing the weapon from his throat and trembling slightly. Azriel rose from the bed, surveying you carefully. Your hand still clutched your dagger, the knuckles of your hands bone white.

“I – I’m sorry,” you whispered, horror in your eyes as you glimpsed the trickle of blood running down his throat. He hadn’t even realised you’d drawn blood, and he resisted the urge to wipe it away.

“It’s okay,” he assured.

You shook your head, pressing your palms into your eyes, your breathing coming in short bursts. Once again, it was instinct that had him walking over to you and bringing you into his embrace. You readily accepted it, your arms wrapping around his middle as sobs racked through your entire body. Azriel whispered assurances into your hair, pressing feather-light kisses there as he consoled you.

He wanted to chase away every nightmare, to hold you close and tell you how much he loved you — by the Cauldron, the words were on the tip of his tongue… but you had started to pull away. When you pulled away, he felt the loss of your warmth like a slap to the face. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trembling. The words died on his tongue – you didn’t need a love confession right now.

“Are you okay?” Azriel asked, and then mentally hit himself. Of course you weren’t okay – you’d just re-lived one of the most traumatising moments of your life. The fact that he’d seen your dream… he didn’t let himself think about what that meant. Perhaps his shadows had been too curious.

“I will be,” you mumbled. You hesitated, and then added, “Thank you, for waking me up.”

Azriel understood the dismissal in your tone and dipped his head in a nod before heading to the door. Your breathing hitched as he walked away, and he paused in the doorway, his mind and heart and soul screaming at him to tell you – to tell you how he wanted to hold you through the night, how he wanted to learn every inch of you, to know all of your secrets and darkest desires…

But would you want to know his? Would you want him if you knew every despicable thing he’d done, every way he’d torn people apart? He doubted it, so he left the room, just as you wanted him to.

~ * ~

The fire crackled in Azriel’s office as he tapped his pen against his desk. He hated writing reports – it was his least favourite part of his job by far. The only thing that made it bearable was your presence. You sat in one of the plush armchairs, legs draped over the armrest and a book in your hand.

Azriel found himself getting distracted by you, as he usually did. He just knew he could stare at you for hours on end, even if you were doing something as simple as reading. He would watch you finish the book and then start another, if only to watch the way your lips curved up as you read something humorous, or the way your eyes sparkled when the love interest finally confessed their love for the main character.

Azriel wished he could build up the courage to confess his love to you. It had only been last night that he had seen into your nightmare, and though his soul screamed a single word over and over in his mind, he chalked it up to his shadows being more invasive than they should have.

Because the word his soul cried out, the word that could change everything… it couldn’t be true. In fact, it was too good to be true. Because there was no way the Mother had promised him to you, and you him. Because Illyrian males made you jumpy and uncomfortable, always putting you on edge. How could you love a male of the race that had hunted you down for sport, intending on violating and hurting you in unforgivable ways?

Even so, you weren’t jumpy around him. Granted, he had saved you, had offered you a home in Velaris, had trained you so that you could defend yourself against even the most fearsome of warriors, but…

But nothing, he realised. You didn’t fear him, didn’t run away when you could. You’d had centuries to leave if you wanted to, but you had chosen to stay. Stay with him. He looked up at your lounging form, watching as you turned a page. You seemed at peace here with him, as if you’d never needed to look further.

I love you, I love you, I love you. He wanted to say the words aloud, wanted to say them between breathless kisses, wanted to say them as you writhed beneath him, pleasure filling every pore of both your bodies.

“Azriel.”

Azriel was brought back to reality as you spoke his name, and he realised he’d been staring at you. He refused to blush, refused to let you see how much you affected him – but you weren’t looking at him. Your book was closed, and you were looking at the ground, almost shamefully. He cocked his head in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired.

You still refused to look at him, instead fiddling with a loose thread on the armchair. You stood up and began to pace, wringing your fingers. It took a few moments, but you finally opened your mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised. “For last night.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he murmured.

You shook your head, tears forming in your eyes. “Azriel, I hurt you–”

Azriel was walking to you in an instant, standing by your side. He took your hand in his and squeezed lightly, in an attempt to offer you assurance. “Y/n, it was a natural reaction. I’m sure I would have done the same thing, had the roles been reversed.”

You looked up at him with silver lining your eyes, and before he could overthink it, he pulled you into his arms. You fit perfectly in his arms, as if the two of you had been carved to hold each other. You melted into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him, and holding him as if he was a lifeline. The way you fit just had the words at the tip of his tongue; I love you… But you didn’t need that right now. You needed comfort — you needed a friend. And so Azriel held you, withholding the words that were begging to be spoken.

~ * ~

Starfall had not yet begun, but the celebrations had. Azriel stood by the balcony, overlooking the sea of people who awaited Starfall. Azriel loved Starfall; he loved that everyone came together for it, no matter how far or long they had to travel. It was another one of the few nights that the inner circle could spend time together, letting loose and celebrating.

Not that Azriel tended to let loose. Sure, he’d have a few drinks, but he never got as wild as Cassian or Mor. They drank enough for him, and then some.

“Hey.”

Azriel turned at the sound of your voice, opening his mouth to offer his own greeting — but nothing came out as he took in the image of you. You wore a cream coloured dress that sparkled like the stars in the sky, hugging your curves and showing off your gorgeous figure. The dress pooled at your feet, and Azriel couldn’t help but stare. Words couldn’t describe how you looked — words such as ethereal, divine, and enchanting came close, but Azriel doubted that there was a single word that could capture the extent of your beauty.

“I — hi,” Azriel got out, quickly averting his gaze, lest he never look away from you again.

You walked up beside him and rested against the railing with him. Azriel liked that you didn’t feel the need to fill the silence — he liked that you could sit with him without speaking, just taking in each other’s company.

There was just so much about you that Azriel loved, and he didn’t want to keep it a secret. He wanted to tell you, wanted you to know. Azriel hid so many parts of his life from everyone, but he wanted to share it with you, share it all with you. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, only to see you already looking at him.

I love you, I love you, I love you! Just say it, you idiot!

“Y/n,” Azriel began, turning his body to face yours.

You responded instantly, your actions mirroring his, so that the two of you were facing each other. This close to you, the sounds of the party disappeared, turning into a muted lull. All he could see, hear, or think about was you.

“Y/n, I’m–”

The sounds of cheers erupted and Azriel turned his head, spying the first star hurtling across the sky, turning and twisting in its glory. It shone bright as it crossed the vast expanse of the night sky, and hundreds more followed. Azriel turned back to you, only to find you captivated by the stars. He smiled slightly at the sight, at the pure joy in your eyes.

Maybe there would never be a good time to tell you. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to tell you. So Azriel took a deep breath, and let it go.

~ * ~

“Oh, come on, Y/n…”

Azriel watched as you sighed through your nose and shook your head. “I have to be up early tomorrow, Mor. You know I’d go if that wasn’t the case.”

Mor looked to Azriel hopefully. “Az?”

Azriel shook his head, and Mor rolled her eyes. “At least you’ve got everyone else.”

Mor sighed dramatically and threw her arms around you, squeezing tight. After a moment she let go, linking her arms with Cassian and Feyre, dragging them to Rita’s for another night of drinking, dancing, and revelling.

Azriel watched as you sighed after them wistfully, no doubt wanting to lose yourself in the music and rhythm of the pleasure hall. But it was true – you had a mission the very next day, and you had to be gone by dawn.

“You can go with them, you know,” you say, looking at Azriel.

He turned to face you, cocking his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not going because I can’t,” you said, causing him to shake his head, but you persisted, “You never go when I can’t. You always walk me home, or stay with me.”

Azriel gulped slightly, wondering if this was it. If this was the night he would finally tell you — tell you that he never went out if you weren’t going because he didn’t want to be parted from you. If this was the night he was to tell you that he actually enjoyed it when you couldn’t go out, because it meant that the two of you could spend more time together.

“I just don’t like going out all that much,” Azriel replied, adding a slight shrug. “Besides, it’s… nicer with just you.”

Azriel refused to blush, refused to let you know how nervous just saying those simple words made him. But you looked up at him with a small smile, not knowing at all what was going on through his mind.

“Yeah, I like being with just you, too,” you admitted, looking up at him with bright eyes.

Once again, Azriel’s heart was screaming at him, screaming to tell you how much he loved you, how much he craved you and needed you, but… he couldn’t. Because although his heart was screaming at him that it must be love, that you must be his mate, his head told him that it wasn’t true. He didn’t deserve you, didn’t deserve someone as wonderful and strong as you.

So he just smiled in response, and walked you home.

~ * ~

Azriel paced around his office, spinning Truth Teller in his hands. You hadn’t come back from your mission yet, and Azriel was… well, he was panicking. He knew you’d be able to take care of yourself, but what if you’d been hurt? What if you were in the middle of nowhere, bleeding out? Thoughts and scenarios played out in Azriel’s mind, and he knew he was overthinking, knew that there had probably been some sort of hold up…

But what if it wasn’t? Azriel had no idea what to do, no idea how to find you and help you if you were dying somewhere. How would he even know if you were?

The door to his office opened to reveal Rhys. Azriel searched his High Lord’s face, praying to the Mother that you had returned safely, but Rhys’s eyes held a hint of despair.

“She’s not back?” Azriel inquired, to which Rhys shook his head.

“Can you find her?” Rhys asked.

Azriel nodded, and winnowed to the area where your mission was supposed to occur, but he could not find a single trace of you. He was unsure if you were hiding from him, or if you were simply not there. His shadows scoured the entire place, but nothing.

Azriel took a deep breath to calm his erratically beating heart. He just needed to find you, to ensure that you were safe. He peered into himself, into his heart and soul, and felt for the bond. Even if he still wouldn’t admit it fully to himself, he knew the two of you shared a connection, a connection that transcended every other relationship Azriel shared. The bond was almost like a string of pure light, and Azriel tugged on it. He tugged softly at first, testing the waters, before pulling it blindly and sharply. After a moment, he felt a pull in return, albeit smaller and weaker than his own. But he knew where he had to go, and he allowed his shadows to winnow him to you.

He arrived and his senses were immediately filled with the scent of blood, the copperry tang causing his nose to wrinkle. He stood outside a cave in the Illyrian Mountains, a cave not too far from where he first met you on that night three-hundred and forty-seven years ago. And suddenly, Azriel knew what had happened. He smelled the tang of pain and fear in the air — your pain and fear.

With his Siphons glowing and a rage that ran deeper than the pits of Hell, Azriel entered the cave with his blades drawn. The Illyrian male beside the entrance to the cave didn’t even have time to draw his weapon before his head was tumbling from his shoulders. The other males turned at the sound of Azriel’s blade slicing through flesh, tendon, and bone, and as one, the colour drained from their faces. With his shadows swirling behind him like a sea of darkness, blood splattered across his face and chest, and eyes full of a glittering, icy rage, Azriel knew he looked like Death incarnate.

The males barely had a chance to scream before he was upon them, slicing and stabbing. Azriel only wanted to incapacitate them, wanted to take his time peeling them apart for what they had done to you, but the killing rage took over, and before he knew it, five males lay dead at his feet.

A small sob brought him back to his senses, and his head jerked up to where you were chained to the wall, bloodied and broken. He took a step forward before pausing, unsure of how to proceed. Azriel swallowed and lowered his wings in an attempt to make him appear less threatening.

“Y/n?” he tried, stepping closer.

“Azriel,” you got out.

He heard the hope in your voice and immediately stepped closer, his eyes on the chains that trapped you. He touched it and his shadows recoiled — the chains had been imbued with some sort of spell that suppressed magic. It only took his shadows a few seconds to find the keys, and he freed you from the grasp of the spelled metal.

With nothing to hold you up, you collapsed into Azriel’s arms. After a quick lookover, he judged your injuries much worse than he’d feared, and panic started to creep in.

“Hey, hey,” Azriel murmured. “You’ll be okay.”

He slipped an arm under your legs and behind your back, picking you up and holding you close to him. He could feel your heart beating faintly, as if it was his own. Your eyes had fluttered closed, and he held you tight and winnowed back to Velaris, right into Madja’s office. The older healer jumped slightly, a pen nearly falling from her fingers, but she quickly jumped into action.

“Lay her down here, Shadowsinger,” Madja commanded, gesturing to a cot.

Azriel did so, although he never physically parted with you. His hand gripped your own, and Madja knelt down, her hands glowing as she held them over your body, healing broken bones and the other various injuries you had sustained. A cup of a lavender potion was held above your mouth.

“Drink, Y/n,” Azriel ordered.

As if you would never dream of disobeying him, you did as he asked, despite your half-conscious state. Your eyes fluttered closed again.

“Talk to her,” Madja demanded as she worked. “She’s fading in and out. You need to keep her here.”

“Please, Y/n,” Azriel begged. His icy demeanour was gone, and all one could see was the warmth and love he harboured for you. “Please, Y/n. I… I need you here, darling. Don’t leave me…” Azriel took a deep breath. “I love you, Y/n, and if you stay, if you survive, I swear I’ll tell you. I’ve wanted to tell you for centuries, but… it never felt like the right time. Please, Y/n…”

“Azriel,” you muttered, your hand squeezing his weakly.

“Yes, Y/n, my love,” Azriel murmured, squeezing back. “Just stay with me.”

Azriel reached inwards again, reached into his heart and soul, and tugged on the string that bound the two of you. You jerked slightly at the sensation, your eyes fluttering open. Despite how exhausted you were, despite the pain and injuries wearing you down, your eyes found Azriel’s. He saw the word in your eyes, saw the word he’d been denying to himself over and over again.

As Madja healed you, as your injuries stitched themselves back together with her magic, your eyes became clearer, more alert. They never left Azriel, and his never left you. Neither of you spoke — there were no words that could be said in that moment. When Madja finally finished, she ducked out of the room, sensing the tension between you two.

“I survived,” you said finally, your eyes searching his.

Azriel let out a small huff of laughter. “I suppose you did.” He took a deep breath. “Y/n, I love you. I love your smile, I love your determination, I love your laugh… I love everything about you. I have loved you for centuries, and I will love you for the centuries to come, if you let me.”

Silver lined your eyes as you smiled up at him. “You’ve loved me for centuries?”

Azriel nodded, “From the moment I met you.”

You took in a shuddering breath, emotions overwhelming you. Azriel felt something in his chest, felt a small tug, and he looked at you in surprise as he felt the bond. You stared at him, almost in surprise.

“This is how you found me,” you whispered.

Azriel nodded. “I will always find you.”

He couldn’t form words to describe it, anyway — had no idea how he knew it would work. There was just a feeling that he had, a need to keep you safe, just like he had when he had first found you in the snowy forest, broken and bleeding. He now knew it was the bond that had sent him over the edge, the bond that had his blood boiling and rage and death running through his veins.

“I’ve loved you for so long, Az,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his face lightly.

Azriel leaned into the touch, relishing in the contact between your bodies. He let out a shaky breath, knowing that this was it. This was the moment he had waited centuries for, the moment that he had dreamt of for so long.

“You’re my mate,” you whispered.

“And you’re mate,” Azriel echoed.

You smiled slightly, your thumb brushing lightly over his cheek. Azriel’s hand reached up and cupped yours, and the warmth in your eyes nearly made him melt.

“I love you, Y/n,” Azriel murmured.

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, Azriel. And I will always find you, too.”

azriel taglist: @ruleroftides @officiallyjaehyuns (let me know if you'd like to be added to my azriel tag list!)

913 notes · View notes

runningfrom2am · 19 days

Text

requiem // part six

summary: according to coriolanus snow, his best friend had the most beautiful voice in all of panem. she had been training her whole life constantly to get where she was; being up for a residency at the most elite opera house in all of panem. singing was her passion. her true love; and when that got stripped from her in a second, his world became a whole lot quieter. he loathed every minute of it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.6k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: opera singer!mentor!reader (blink and you'll miss it), she's kind of a prodigy!! p cool imo, mute!reader, bestfriend!coryo, friends to lovers trope ooo, mentions of graphic violence early on (particularly the prologue) but after that it's pretty safe, depictions of ptsd/trauma, mental illness and minor suicidal ideation but at least she's not entirely alone, descriptions of minor medical treatments and use of medication.

a/n: omg hi i am finally back with a new part for this series!! kind of a filler but idk i still think it's cute :) enjoy!

also, reminder to follow @runningfrom2am-library and turn on my notifications there to join my taglist for this series!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

two years earlier

"So, I'm thinking balloons over the whole ceiling of the foyer, gold and red- thoughts?" Your mother asks as you enter the threshold of your family's lake house.

"You say that like you haven't already ordered everything." You giggle in response, footsteps echoing across the tile as you step off the carpet of the grand entryway.

It was less of a "house" and more of a mansion, in Coriolanus' opinion.

He had been here countless times throughout the years and sporadically would spend the weekends here with you and your parents when you didn't want to be "bored" and "lonely" on the large lakefront property. Poor you, he always thought sarcastically, but would never voice it.

Regardless, he loved getting to come out here with you in the summers and occasionally for a day or two over the holidays when you could skate on the frozen lake. You had taught him how yourself, holding onto his hands at nine years old and skating backward in front of him while he channeled the look of a baby deer taking its first steps. Your little laugh and small words of encouragement were the only thing that kept him upright- most of the time.

But this time, it was summer, and he had been looking forward to this weekend for weeks. Not because he was all that excited about seeing your classmates who he had needed just as much of a break from as his studies, but more so because it was your birthday. Or, close enough to it.

Your sixteenth birthday, more specifically, and your parents were pulling out all the stops. Thus the balloons and your family's staff running around like their lives depended on it to get everything ready for the early afternoon when all the other guests would be arriving to stay for the night and the following morning.

"Okay, well, yes, I did, but I knew you would like it so it's fine." Your mother insists and you look over at Coryo, rolling your eyes behind her back. She was right, you didn't mind the red and gold, but it was no surprise you didn't have any say in the planning of your own birthday party. It was more for your parents than it was for you, anyway. More for the reputation of your family name, although, you didn't doubt that it would be fun.

"Come on." You whisper to your best friend, gently tugging on his shirt to pull him upstairs.

"Mom, we're going upstairs until the others get here!" You call over your shoulder, already running up the staircase.

"Yes, yes, I'll send someone for you when everything's ready. Just shout if you get hungry." She agrees mindlessly, already putting down bags of last-minute snacks you had picked up on the way.

"Thank you!" Coryo adds in as well as you pull him along.

She laughs softly and shakes her head. "Of course, Coriolanus. You kids have fun. Oh, and go ahead and leave your overnight stuff just in the sitting room upstairs!"

When your other classmates who were able to make the hour-long trip finally all made it out to the beach house, it quickly became bustling with life. The large floor-to-roof windows that spanned both stories of the home were pulled open completely, opening it out to the porch, the pool, and the lakefront. The music was loud, and your parents had set up every screen and projector on the property, inside and out, playing home videos of you when you were growing up. Most featured your performances, and you loved those, but your favourites were of you and your friends.

Coriolanus was a star in your home videos, undeniably. Some of the girls from your class were sitting on the back porch with virgin cocktails your parents' staff had made, pointing out themselves in clips from school events and previous birthday parties and laughing at their younger selves.

Laying on the dock next to Coryo and Clemmie, you were laughing at the boys at the other end of the dock trying to shove each other off when your father's boat pulled back up next to you and he cut the engine.

"You want to go next, bird?" He calls to you as Festus and Pup stumble out of the boat, drenched from head to toe and dripping all over you and your towels.

You look over at Coryo, smiling hopefully at him and he nods, getting up quickly while you make the same effort to get Clemmie to come with you. "Clemmie, come on. The tube fits three people well enough." You tell her as you get up, pulling at your bathing suit to make sure it is still fitting right.

"No, no. I'm good. My parents say that's a death trap, and I believe it." She chuckles, waving her hand dismissively. "I'll be here. You two have fun."

"Suit yourself." You shrug, taking your father's hand as he helps you onto the boat, and Sejanus Plinth, who was already onboard and apparently decided to just stay, hands you a life jacket which you quietly thank him for.

"Clemensia, it's perfectly safe. I'll even go slow for you." Your father offers her as you zip yours up, watching Coryo do the same. Weirdly enough, you can't help but notice it looks good on him. Just about anything does, though.

"No thank you, I'm just fine right here. I'm not the best swimmer as it is." Your friend replies gratefully. "I prefer land."

"Alright, then, but we'll be doing trips all afternoon if you change your mind." He tells her, going back to the helm of the small speed boat reserved specifically for your tubing and wakeboarding and starting the engine up again.

The boat starts moving and you go over to the ship's radio, clicking it on again and turning it up to hear the music better over the sounds of rushing water as he takes you out deeper on the lake.

Once you're satisfied with the volume and the song, you climb up to the front of the boat to sit next to the two boys who are waiting. You weren't sure what they were talking about, making small talk most likely, knowing the both of them, but regardless it stopped when you sat down.

You enjoy the music and the spray of fresh water on your skin for a couple of minutes until you're far enough from the shores to stop.

You and Coryo both get up with a fair bit of excitement, having always loved going tubing with your father behind the wheel of the boat every summer.

"Sejanus, are you coming?" You ask hopefully as you and your friend throw the large inflatable off the back of the boat and into the water, pulling the rope back so it's close enough to climb on.

He looks to your father, who nods encouragingly at him. He'd been on the boat for almost all of the afternoon but hadn't once actually got on the tube. It wasn't much of a secret that he wasn't very well-liked by other kids, but his parents had insisted that he attend your birthday, so he just decided to stay close to one of your parents.

"Um, okay. Sure." He replies quietly with a nervous nod.

Out of all of your classmates, he was the most comfortable with the two of you- being among some of the only kids who hadn't been mean to him in the past.

"Hold on tight." Your father tells him as you and Coryo get situated, laying on your stomachs next to each other and holding onto the handles by your heads and leaving enough room for Sejanus on your other side. "These two are professionals, I don't hold back like with the other kids." He says teasingly, giving you a knowing look.

He climbs on next to you while you hold onto the back of the boat for him, trying to keep it as steady as possible.

"Don't worry, it's gonna be fun." You say to him when you hear the motor start up again and you give your dad a thumbs up to start going.

"It does look like fun." Sejanus agrees quietly, and you can hardly hear him over the waves as the boat moves slowly away from you and the rope starts to unravel.

You turn to look at Coryo again, giving him a smile. "Here, let's switch handles." You suggest, letting go of one of yours and nudging his hand away from his to trade so your arms would overlap on the somewhat rough material that was known to give you both rug burns in the past. "That way we can keep each other on."

He nods, chuckling to himself as he complies, looping his hand under your handle and gripping on tight. "Yeah, we can definitely try."

You knew it wouldn't make much of a difference, but you liked the way his arm felt over yours; warm from the heat of the sun but somehow chilling you down to your bones.

The tube jerks to the right to catch up with the rope as your father's boat gets far enough away and begins to pull you, and you can feel Sejanus tense up beside you as you start to pick up speed.

"You gotta relax!" You call out to him over the rushing water, and he just looks at you with wide eyes as you continue straight for the time being. "Lean into it and you'll stay on easier!"

Sejanus didn't really listen. That much is clear when within a matter of minutes, hitting a corner and bouncing over the waves created by the boat, he tumbles right off the side.

You glance back over your shoulder to see that he's okay, but with the speed you're already moving and the turn your father makes to go back for him, that was a clear mistake.

You weren't paying attention when you hit the corner hard, swinging out behind the boat with the now uneven weight distribution, and before you know it the tube is flipping completely and rolling fast over the surface of the water.

Coryo hears you scream as you suddenly disappear from his side, which only makes it flip faster. He somehow holds on, but not without a blinding pain in his hand and up his arm as it gets caught in the handle that wasn't his, and then he's quickly surrounded by the blue of the lake as well.

You're giggling when your father circles back to you after helping Sejanus out of the water, and you can still see Coryo a ways away. You never realized how fast you were going until you both got thrown off, and you were usually very far away in the water.

Climbing up onto the boat and dripping wet, you pull the tube back up to the boat and hold on to the rope while your father steers you over to your friend, his blonde curls soaked and clinging to his forehead, almost completely covering his eyes.

"Coryo!" You call out as you get closer, laughing through your words. You get closer to the back ladder, prepared to help pull him out. He doesn't respond, though he's looking at you, and you realize quickly that he's ghostly pale- more so than usual, and he's clutching his hand to his chest. "Hey, you okay?" You ask, your smile fading quickly as you lean over the edge to reach for him.

He nods stiffly, and when he reaches out to take your hand, you notice that he's trembling.

"Are you hurt? What's wrong?" You ask, and you quickly hear your father's steps behind you.

"I- um..." You can tell as you try and help him up that he's embarrassed to admit that something's wrong- though he doesn't need to be.

"Dad?" You begin to ask for help, worry seeping into your tone, but he's already there. He gently nudges you out of the way and reaches into the water to pull Coryo out, which, is decently easy for him to do. He was always a skinny kid, and right now you were grateful for that.

"You okay, son? Let me see that." Your father says once Coryo gets his footing, still holding his hand close to his chest.

"You hurt your hand?" You ask when he doesn't move, just staring between you and your father with shock plastered all over his face.

He nods slightly, teeth chattering, and you hear that Sejanus must have turned down the music.

Your father gestures for him to show him his injured hand again, holding his own to take at it and look. "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm just going to take a look."

Coryo looks at you for a split second before looking away again, carefully holding his hand out for your father to look at.

Your father decided after that that maybe that wasn't the best activity to take other people's kids on while they were under his supervision. Secretly, it's a relief that Coryo was the one who got injured from it- he was closer with your family than anyone else, and there likely wouldn't be someone showing up at your door within the week to press charges over a broken thumb. You were still worried, though.

You made quick work upon returning to dry land of hurrying upstairs to your room with him, arm wrapped around his waist as your father tied up the boat. It was only his hand that was injured, but you had never in your life seen someone so pale- Coryo looked like he could collapse at any minute.

"Someone's grabbing ice for it, just sit down on the bed and I'll get you some water." You say as you guide him to sit on your bed that sat against the corner of the large room, only mildly aware of the shake in your voice and the panic you were quickly descending into.

"I-I'm okay, it's really not that big of a deal..." Coryo mutters and you shake your head, about to leave when your mother walks in in a hurry.

"I brought some ice, darling." She says as she brushes past you to sit next to him and you stand clear out of the way. You needed to give her the space to be a mother and help- you knew that much.

You look around for Coryo's overnight bag while she helps hold the ice pack wrapped in a dish towel to his hand, but you can't find it anywhere. "Mom, we left Coryo's stuff in here this morning, did any of the staff touch it?" You ask, hoping to find him a shirt to cover his shivering skin. The shock, the air conditioning of the house while still dripping wet, and the ice pack were not a friendly combination.

"Oh, I had it moved to the sitting room." She points to the door and your brow furrows slightly.

All your friends who were spending the night were sleeping in the sitting room, and there were beds and a projector screen set up in there with snacks for movies and everything, but you and Coryo were supposed to stay in here when it was time to actually go to sleep. "What? Why? We're sleeping in here."

Your mother shrugs. "I don't know, honey, I just feel that it's time that you both have some of your own space."

What she means is 'I don't think it's appropriate for the two of you to share a bed anymore.'

You and Coryo look at each other, only briefly, and it's only safe to assume that you're both feeling the same thing.

You had never been in less of a rush to grow up, and to be forced to grow apart.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

69 notes · View notes

mothdruid · 5 months

Text

Within the past 72 hours the TGM fandom got a fire put under it's ass, for lack of a better term/phrase. Even though I'm not as active in the fandom anymore, it did make me want to talk about a few things. This isn't the first time that I've had to make a post similar to this, usually speaking about reblogs and keeping your fanfic writers feeling wanted within the fandom spaces, but today I'm going to talk more about fandom etiquette and my experiences in fandom spaces. So, if you want to hear my opinion on fandom etiquette, how I learned fandom etiquette, and my thoughts about the doxing situation that has happened, keep on reading.

My Fandom Experience.

The first fandom that I was ever a part of was The Hunger Games fandom in the 8th grade (if you don't include my anime fandoms). I was 12-13 at the time. This was when I was first introduced to Tumblr and being involved within a fandom online. At the time I was super young, barely even knew who I was as a person, let alone in a fandom space. All I did was reblog little gifsets and fawn over Josh Hutcherson. I remember getting my first hate anon, even though I didn't do anything that would generate that to even happen. Even when I was 12-13, I couldn't understand why anyone would send a hate anon. That was when I found out a friend of mine found my Tumblr and actually secretly hated me, so she sent me hate anons. Still, before I knew it was her I didn't understand.

Fandoms were a formative part of my childhood. I think that main one that helped form me though was the Supernatural (yeah, I know, eye roll), Naruto, and The Hobbit fandoms. I had made friends on Tumblr and Instagram through these fandoms. During these times was when I had first started consuming fanfiction. Specifically, destiel and thilbo fanfiction. This is how I started to find the things in fanfiction that I loved, and the things that I hated. Instead of sending hate to the writers for their thoughts and stories that I didn't agree with, I would back out of the story or just scroll past. Not only that, I also started to use the filters on AO3 constantly, ensuring that I was only reading the fics that I knew I'd enjoy. Also, I was careful to read warnings and tags prior to reading the fic. Never once did I blame the writer for something that I knew I didn't like and accidentally read or read for see what it was about.

After high school was when I started getting into fanfiction writing. I've written for a lot of fandoms during this time. The IT movies, Total Drama, Haikyuu, Attack on Titan, Marvel, Bridgerton, Top Gun: Maverick, and currently ASOIAF. As a writer I've never gotten hate, thankfully, but I have had a lot of friends that have. It's sad to see so many people who take the time to write, whether it's enjoyable or not, receive hate. As writers we are simply expressing our creativity for the things that we love. Since posting fanfiction on tumblr, I have experienced a lot of people pestering for new updates and when the next fic is, and so have a lot of other writers on here. Even though people only know us as a little icon and username, fanfiction writers are people. We have lives outside of writing fanfiction. Everyone also isn't the same type writer. One person may easily write multiple fics every week, some of us take longer, and some of us are even just passion writers (me lol).

The TGM fandom has been one of the most negative fandom experiences I've ever seen/had. It is full of some of the meanest people/anons I've ever seen. From writers being attacked for fic ideas, people being sent hate for something that the anon has full control over, and people constantly expecting new stories to read on the daily. Yes, I do know that other fandoms have these issues, but it seems to be almost a weekly, hell, even daily thing within this fandom. A lot of the issues that I see happen in this fandom are from people who don't understand fandom etiquette.

Fandom Etiquette.

If you had noticed there was a few things I put in bold above. These are key things that I learned during my time that attribute to fandom etiquette. So without further a do, I'll list out some fandom etiquette rules that I follow all the time.

Don't send hate anons to people

Block/unfollow people you don't like

If you don't like an idea or fic, don't read it

Read through all warnings and tags that the writer provided

Use AO3 filters

Don't blame the writer/creator for reading things they created that you actively know you don't like

Writers/Creators aren't "content farms"

There are people behind these blogs/usernames, treat them like someone you'd see on the street

Writers/Creators are expressing love/passion for something, don't hate them for doing that

If you see something fandom related that you don't like, scroll past it or ignore it

YOU CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE (ESPECIALLY ON TUMBLR)

The Doxing Situation.

For those who are unaware but decided to read this anyways, recently there was a writer (Mama Mayhem) on here who got doxed from another writer in the fandom. Mayhem has since lost her job due to the doxing. This was apparently from her breaking HIPAA by posting a picture into a private groupchat/discord. This picture was posted almost a half year ago. Meaning that the person who reported/doxed Mayhem had known about this picture for months and only recently decided to do something about it.

I'll start by saying that I also work in healthcare, and know many other people here who do. I understand that a HIPAA violation is 100% an offense that gets you fired. I'm not excusing the HIPAA violation if one did occur.

Some people have brought up the idea that maybe the person that reported the picture, and doxed Mayhem, was doing it out of the goodness of their heart. Due to the timeline of it all, that doesn't seem likely. I had a previous coworker get fired for HIPAA violations and it took a total of a week from the initial report for her to be gone.

The biggest thing I want to convey is that TWO WRONGS CAN HAPPEN AT THE SAME TIME. Yes, if Mayhem violated HIPAA, it is wrong. But at the same time, the person held onto this information for months only to use it out of spite, pettiness, and cruelty, is wrong.

My Thoughts.

Due to Mayhem being doxed, a lot of people have decided to leave this platform, take indefinite hiatuses, stop writing, or move to AO3 exclusively., and I don't blame them. I'll be honest, I'm thinking about moving to AO3 exclusively now. AO3 feels a lot more rewarding in my experience. I already only post my fics for ships to AO3, so why not just post everything on AO3 (which I usually do).

I think a lot of people have forgot what it feels like to feel shame in something they say or do. When I say this, it's directed towards people who send hate or do other malicious things in fandom spaces. Fandoms were never this clique-ish and mean. I think it has to do with the pandemic, meaning that a lot of people who would have never joined a fandom did because they weren't allowed to do anything outside of their house. So, those mean girls that made fun of fandom girlies (g/n) previously, joined the fandoms and decided started bullying the people within them.

This situation is super shitty and people are now scared. It makes complete sense, especially after seeing someone, that many of you were close to, be doxed. A lot of people are scared of it happening to them now. I don't think this fandom will be the same after this situation, but who knows, maybe everyone will just forget and move on. Either way, I think I'll be taking a step back from the TGM fandom. I'll still be here, but until further notice, I won't be posting any TGM fanfiction. Maybe a gifset/picture here and there, but I don't think this is a fandom I feel comfortable writing for anymore.

If you've read all of this, thank you.

#moth talks #here it is #sorry it's so long but i couldn't convey my thoughts any other way

84 notes · View notes

biteofcherry · 4 months

Note

Happy Wetnessday 💦

I think it's time for some King Steve, don't you? Here's a little this or that for your life with him:

modern day or medieval times

arranged marriage or king falling for "peasant"

summer or winter solstice wedding

castle in the nature or city centre

reads to you before bed or cuddles by the fireplace

No matter what you choose he's completely smitten and can't let his hands off you.

xoxo Wetnessday anon 💦

STEEVIE 🥹💖 back in my arms ❤️

And King Steve on top of it? You spoil me, Wetnessday Anon! Thank you!

I'd pick medieval times, because I'm in deep need of wearing beautiful gowns daily, not just for shmancy galas. Also more forests and fields than skyscrapers and yelling car drivers. Besides, I want Steve with a sword, not just some ceremonial stick 😎

While I love me some romantic falling for who you shouldn't be with, I was never actually fond of such drastic class difference romance? Idk, I always thought of them to be bullshit in the making and maintaining 😂 How about we mix it up a bit? An arranged marriage, but not with a Princess equal to Steve's status, but perhaps a daughter/sister of a knight who was Steve's very loyal, close friend, but after death you'd be left with no protection and possibly some nasty distant uncle would claim all everything and decide on your marriage. So Steve arranges for your marriage to him, to protect you. And no one would dare make any claims on you and your dowry when the king himself has taken you.

The castle is built on a hill, overlooking the grounds below and the wide, blue ribbon of river crossing right next to it. There are fields and forests around; a long main road with hawthorns growing on both sides and blooming beautifully in spring.

Steve is absolutely wonderful. Your marriage may have happened due to his strong sense of duty and protectiveness, but he doesn't close his heart on the love that blooms between you two. He's absolutely smitten and most doting. Sometimes he will read out to you some formal replies, seeking your opinion, and sometimes you will visit him when he reads piles of letters, requests and reports. You'd pick one of the letters and read it in a silly, mocking voice to make Steve laugh. But one of your favorite ways to spend time with Steve alone, with no duties to fulfill, is to be in his arms as you sit by the fireplace, drinking some mead or wine and just enjoying the quiet, or some hushed intimate conversation.

Though you also love to go on rides with him. Especially in winter, when you're bundled in most lush coat lined with fur and Steve holds you in his embrace as you sit in front of him on his horse. Winter rides remind you of your winter wedding. How the light from the torches stuck in the snow reflected in the frosty layer as you were lead through the courtyard. The evergreens weaved into your hair, as a symbol for the solstice, white gold of the stunning jewelry you were gifted as brilliant as the sparkling snow. Steve awaited you at the bottom of the stairs and then, hand holding yours, lead you up and into the main hall where you were married.

It's also on winter solstice that you give birth to your first child (and Steve gets so happy drunk on mead he forgets you're married and asks you to be his queen 😆)

#Wetnessday Anon #reply #Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x reader #king!steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine

70 notes · View notes

drysaladandketchup · 7 months

Note

5 mattdrai for the writing meme please

I wasn't entirely sure how I wanted to handle this prompt, but I hope it's still to your liking, anon :)

5. things you didn’t say at all

"Hey."

Matthew really isn't in the mood for this right now. He was having a good time being back home in St. Louis for his first All-Stars, talking to some of the best players in the league, watching the skills competition, going out with the guys, and now the game is in a couple hours--

"Tkachuk."

Yeah, no, he's real. That's Draisaitl yelling at him. Well, he isn't yelling, but since he apparently is so hard pressed to even be around Matthew, it'll probably escalate to that soon.

I'd probably get off the ice.

Even if it was a joke--and maybe Matthew is willing to entertain the idea that it had been, coming from mister 'taken out of context'--it makes sharing the locker room awkward.

The thing is, he kind of likes Draisaitl. Admires his game, anyways, even if he is playing for fucking Edmonton. If Matthew had actually been drafted by the Oilers back then, like he thought, they probably could have been friends.

If he's being honest with himself, he kind of likes Draisaitl beyond hockey, too. Because he'd watched Leon's interviews, checked out his Instagram a little--he was curious, sue him--and because McDavid talks a lot when they're training at Gary's. Also, come on, Matthew's not blind. He hates the concept of him in Edmonton, but it's not fair to say Matthew genuinely hates the guy.

Right now though, this may be the first time he's heard Draisaitl ever actually say his name, and he wishes it was anyone else.

"Hey. Hang on." Draisaitl is in front of him now, stony and unreadable, and only then does Matthew realise like a fool that he has actually stopped. They're face-to-face, alone in one of the maintenance halls, the hustle and bustle of the arena a distant hum.

Matthew stares at him, not unkindly, because his mom taught him some damn manners, but not openly friendly, either. Not until he can get a gauge on what Draisaitl wants. Leon. It's Leon. That feels like the only thing Matthew really knows about the guy, sometimes.

"Did you want something?" Matthews asks coolly, leaning against the bricks with his hands shoved deep in the pocket of his sweater.

Leon glances down the hall, up to the buzzing florescent lights, running fingers through his hair. It's hard not to follow his tongue when it pokes out to wet his lips. Damn it, he has no business looking this good.

"I wanted to talk to you," he finally says, and even after all this time Matthew is still caught off guard by how soft he sounds.

"Talk to me?" Matthew narrows his eyes. "I didn't think you'd even want to be seen with me."

Which is a shame, because they'd look pretty damn good together. In his opinion, anyways.

Leon doesn't take the bait. "I saw that interview you did."

"Buddy, you're going to have to be more specific. I've done a few lately. It's the All-Stars."

"Before the break. I don't remember with who. NBC, I think? They asked you about me. What I said."

He doesn't need to elaborate. Matthew raises a brow, scratches the sudden itch at his neck. The air in the hallway is stuffy and warm.

"What about it? I said you were a great player."

"After that, though."

Leon doesn't need to elaborate on that, either. The intensity of his stare does the job well enough.

What did Matthew say again? I probably can't answer that or he'll get mad at me.

Yeah, because the only thing running through his head when he heard what Leon said was, Well damn that sucks because I wanted to find out if he fucks better than he fights. He remembers biting his lip because his brain unhelpfully supplied him with some tempting ideas that were not exactly family friendly. He's twenty-two, he's got hormones, what's he going to do?

But he was pretty sure declaring he wants to fuck a rival player wasn't going to win him any favours with anyone, let alone Leon. And maybe that comment irked him a little in the moment, but no one's opinion matters to Matthew more than his own. Accidentally outing himself during an interview was not high on his list of career moves, so he'd played it safe, locked it all down, and assumed that'd be the end of it.

"I didn't say anything," Matthew says.

This feels strange. Leon doesn't look pissed, he looks curious. Piqued, like he's waiting to hear something specific.

"I know."

"So what's your problem?"

"What were you going to say?"

Matthew cocks his head. "What, you thought I was going to burst into tears because the German Gretzky doesn't like me?"

Except he knows Leon's not an asshole. Not all the time, anyways. Not off the ice. Which makes it fucking hard to just blow him off.

"You were all over us that game," Leon says. "Kass was pissed. You're a fucking pest, what the hell did you expect me to say?"

"Is this you trying to apologise? Because if it is, you're doing a hell of a job."

"You never hold back on anything."

"Why the hell does it matter?" Christ, it's like Leon is trying to pick a fight.

"You looked like you had something to say." There's a hint of suspicion--of implication--in Leon's voice that makes Matthew tense.

"You think I'm an asshole, so I don't know why you care."

Maybe this is a prank. Maybe he figured it all out and he's waiting for Matthew to break down and declare, I think I could fall in love with you if you let me.

Leon shuts his eyes briefly, shoulders rising and falling as he takes one long, deep breath through his nose.

"I didn't mean it how it sounded."

"Yeah, I heard." Matthew's stomach rolls in ways it shouldn't. "I don't know what other context you want me to take it in, though. It's not even a big deal, anyways. I mean, yeah, it kind of sucks finding out a guy you like thinks you're a piece of shit, but it's whatever, right?"

"I didn't call you--I don't think you're--"

Groaning, Leon thumps his head against the wall and drags a hand down his face. He takes a minute to compose himself, staring up at the ceiling, then down between his feet, face screwed up in thought. Finally, he looks back to Matthew.

"You like me, eh?"

It's been a long weekend; Matthew's too tired to backpedal and try to make up some excuse. Part of him just wants to drop it out in the open and be done with it. Just come out and say, Yeah, the 'I want to take you home' kind of like. The 'I want you to make me scream' kind of like.

Just to see what Leon would do. At the very least, he probably wouldn't punch Matthew. He's not a glove-dropper, after all, and he's not so scary without a stick in his hand.

He tries to imagine Leon's wide eyed, slack-jawed expression. Maybe the little 'Oh' that would slip through his lips. Because yeah, 'Oh' would be about right. It would be the most embarrassing conversation of Matthew's life; more embarrassing than when he came out to his family and Brady asked him to rank his favourite players by 'fuckability'.

"It doesn't matter." Matthew shakes his head, clears his throat, looking anywhere but at Leon. "Look, man, let's just go back to beating each other up on the ice and pretend this never happened, okay?"

"No, hey, don't"--Leon grabs Matthew's arm as he pushes off the wall, fully ready to disappear and never talk about this again--"It does matter. Tell me."

Matthew would rather go dunk his head under the sink and rub the embarrassing flush from his cheeks. He's hot all over, from the beating in his chest to the blood in his veins. Where Leon's touching tingles with an intimacy they've never had. It may be the first time they've touched without the aggression of a game to justify it.

And damn, Leon's looking at him like he can read Matthew's mind, or trying to get Matthew to read a little of his own. It's all heat and intensity and a look that says, I don't think you hate me, and I don't want you to think I hate you.

"What do you want from me?" Matthew says. "Why's this so important to you?"

It's possible he imagines the way Leon's eyes flit down and back. They're pressed almost right against each other now. That must be why Matthew's overheating, struggling to catch a full breath.

"i just want to know..." Leon swallows the rest of his words as he takes half a step closer; a little too close to be innocent. That brick wall of a chest is pressed up against Matthew's arm, nearly crowding him against the wall.

"Know what?" Matthew barely gets the words out.

It's scary to wonder. Ideas are forming in his head--excited, hopeful ones. Matthew won't pretend he's never wondered about Leon; what he could do with him. To him. How his mouth tastes, how his hands feel, what it'd be like having him over and under and around and inside.

And Leon is looking at Matthew like he genuinely cares how he feels. Like maybe, just maybe, he's thinking, too. Wanting.

Wouldn't that just be the biggest fucking drama of Matthew's life?

There's still too much they're not saying.

Neither of them gets the chance.

Something clatters down the hall, followed by the echo of voices.

Leon lets go abruptly, hand dropping to his side. "Shit, sorry. I should, um... Never mind. Just... forget it."

He spins and walks away, just like that, shoulders hunched and hands shoved in his pockets. For a guy who never backs down from a challenge, it looks a little too much like running away.

But it's not like Matthew can call him a coward when he can't even get his own voice to work. Breathless, he slumps against the wall and tries to piece together what just happened, how they managed to say everything and nothing. It feels like he's been through a tornado.

Fuck, he can't deal with whatever this is right now. He cannot be thinking with his dick come game time, let alone worry about whatever the hell his heart is doing.

He stands alone in the hall for a good five minutes, waiting for his nerves to settle, until he finally has the courage to head back, falling into the bustle of players and staff and media.

He avoids Leon in the locker room as best he can. On the ice, too. They don't talk and they keep enough bodies between them on the bench.

Once this is over, they can crack open that can of worms again, figure out what's going on. But there's more important things right now.

They play the All-Star game like they're bitter rivals.

Matthew feeds him a slick pass that turns into a goal.

He skates off without a celly, and Leon gives him a "fuck you" with a smirk and a tongue between his teeth.

But it's fun. Really fun. And despite it all, they're both smiling at the end. Leon's smiling at him.

And Matthew wants to believe that means something.

#hockey #mattdrai #matthew tkachuk #leon draisaitl #my writing #asks #this fic gave me a hard time for some reason #I didn't want to to do the obvious 'the thing you didn't say was that you love me' but I guess it kind of became that anyways lol #really my first thought was just 'matthew never said what he thought about leon's get off the ice comment and it haunts me' I NEED to know

65 notes · View notes

sanvees · 4 months

Note

I just don't understand how you like S*l? He is actually right up there with T**g for being the worst. There is nothing good about him, sorry.

i don't understand the wild and weird hate against sol (or even remotely comparing him to tong) but here we are, anon. like if joe out right saying sol is a good person can't convince ya'll... idk why you're asking me?

anyway... you asked for my thoughts and opinions, so you shall receive.

sol is just a really interesting dude to me. he's just some guy that i think is really neat. he's a thai kpop idol and FAMOUS famous but he isn't like tong about it. he's kind and just a really good-hearted person. he's the sunny type, cheerful, caring, and loyal to his friends. like joe, sol is a sunflower in the toxic showbiz world msi is set in.

(tbh i see him and ming, who is also a fascinating character, as kind of two sides of the same "rich and famous" coin. ming is cold, aloof, calculating with walls as high as elon crust's ego is inflated. and then there is sol, open and kind-hearted. which is exactly why he and joe hit it off. funny though, ming and sol are petty but like on completely opposite ends of the petty spectrum.)

after lovingly bugging @zhouxiangs for novel spoilers i really wished the series had touched more on sol and joe's history instead of just a few throwaway lines here and there because sol's story ;3; my smol bean of a son. (and this is where media literacy and nuance comes in :D but y'all barely have any of that.)

joe and sol were very close . they ate, trained, and slept (sleeping type of slept lol) together. they did everything together. and then sol found out joe was gay (in the novel sol was also struggling with his sexuality) and then joe confessed to sol. joe liked sol first (not this weird warped reality y'all are living in where sol has been obsessing over joe). but anyway, sol was young and scared and dumb. he was afraid of being taken advantage of and also of his own feelings for joe and he ran away. joe got over it and never held it against him.

while in korea, it seemed that sol struggled to connect with people and went through some tough times as a trainee (i'm quoting from porsche's interview) and he realized his true feelings for joe so when he had the chance to return to thailand he took it and he sought out joe to reconnect. as a friend, as more.

was he supposed to have some sort of psychic link with joe that he was already seeing someone? obviously not. but when joe made it clear he liked ming, sol backed off romantically. he didn't back off as a friend though. (idk about y'all friendless gremlins but if one of my close friends was in the situationship from hell that joe was in... i'd also try and make them see reason, open their eyes. like sol once having feelings for joe does not diminish his friendship with joe. at all. (yes the scene of joe and sol in the van in ep 6 means everything to me. joe and sol were friends, brothers even. and that scene showed it.)

fyi, novel sol recognized joe too :D

ANYWAY, it was interesting to see the change in sol after joe's death. he isn't his usual cheerful self, but he's still kind and polite if a bit more reserved. and i for one love the cattiness with ming he has going on? LEAVE MING ALONE i see y'all shouting but me I WANT HIM TO PUNCH MING IN THE NUTS ONCE (if y'all can project, so can i) like ming deserves to catch a bit of shit from sol (his 'khun chai ming' sent meeee), since his and tong's bullshit directly contributed to the death of his best friend.

is sol perfect? no. (the fight with ming where joe got hurt. or the phone call scene that resulted in joe effectively being cut out of sol's life. again.) but are any of these characters perfect? absolutely not.

sol though is strangely villainized and for what? because he's trying to help and protect his friend (and is maybe being snotty with ming but... deserved tbh lol)? because he might be feeling a little righteous and fafo with the guy who took his friend away from him? because he once had feelings for joe but then redirected them into being a decent human and a good friend?

sponsored by: @zhouxiangs and porsche/lotte interview with iqiyi.

#my stand in #sol love club 🩷#is this even coherent? i'm three days into migraine hell loool #usersasa #response

46 notes · View notes

jiminsass-istant · 9 months

Text

IT'S NOT ABOUT THE HICKEY

This post was triggered by an anon moving around in these spaces trying to explain away the hickey/bite moment as something trivial. I will save my thoughts on the hickey for the end of this post.

First of all, to that anon- Get off your high horse. Not being a shipper doesn't make you superior. You are probably one of those cringey people cancelling queer armies on tw!tter these days. Now readers, sip your drink as you read this short think piece-

OT7 Captains in the fandom bubble:-

I really don't get the superiority complex of so called OT7s who love to live inside this cute little bubble they have created for themselves or as they call it nowadays:- " a curated tl". Cancelling people everyday and actually driving people away from the fandom. Every bio says "multis, solos, shippers dni". What are you afraid of? Little pixels? I have personally followed solo fbs of all members and boy the things I have found! They can get extreme at times, but it takes 2 minutes to fact-check their claims and draw your own conclusion.

I follow wholesome ship pages too, they are a great way to not miss out cute moments between various duos. If you are blocking them out, you'll be swept into whatever the OT7 decide the important interactions are. 🤷

Have y'all watched 'The Social Dilemma' on Netflix? I would actually want all bts fans to give it a watch. A very prominent tech figure admitted that she follows a good number of Tw!tter accounts that disagree with her to ensure that she gets to see all sides and all opinions. When you deliberately 'curate' a timeline to feed only your opinions, to make a 'safe' space that doesn't trigger you, without letting new thoughts penetrate it..THAT! That's the beginning of a cult.

Army is not a cult for defending BTS or for calling out billboard and other big authorities, but army is indeed a cult with the way they move against people within the fandom.

I said what I said.

With a curated 'OT7 captain' timeline, you start internalising things about the artists that the people you follow want to believe:-

1. All true army are OT7 and non shippers. 💫💫

Sure some of them are. But biases exist for a reason, right? If you think people don't run their bias's playlist more than the other 6, you are so deluded. Spotify wrapped'23 was a prime example. With the solo era, the rise of solo fanbases was unavoidable.

2. Your favourites are spotless, impeccable people. 💌💌💌

They are so not. They date, they make mistakes, they hurt people (like we all do). Heck, they might even offend certain groups of people, unknowingly or knowingly. Being ignorant is also a flaw.

3. Everything they say on camera is true.🙊🙊🙊

Everything they say on camera is what they want you to know. As Park Jimin of BTS, as Kim Namjoon of BTS and so on. And yes, your perception of them should be built based on their words alone, but it doesn't mean that you purposefully stay blind in a way that serves your personal projections onto the members. As Jimin once said " please take our words as they are"(Festa 2022). Read between the lines, and you get- "please do not make assumptions about us, please do not project past or future narratives onto us." No matter how much it makes BTS look like a saint, DO NOT paint them as perfect human beings just because they are your idols.

Once you get into the fandom bubble, you start rejecting all opinions that threaten to puncture that perfect bubble. In that process, you end up never getting to know about how some member promotions were horribly managed, how company delayed certain stuff, the obvious company agenda and different business strategies for different members. It's not about victimising members, but calling out the company when they make obvious mistakes. You do not see when hate against a particular member gets aggravated to the point it affects streams and sales.

And musical preference? The way the fandom just collectively decided that if you hate any song except 'ON ft Sia", you are basically an anti. I have no words.. I'll come out and say: I don't like DNA. SORRY JIMIN. Sure it's a great concert song, or maybe at a party, but it's never making it to my down-time personal playlists. Cancel me?

Top Social Artist?

This is my personal opinion. BTS having a huge presence on social media is both a boon and a curse. While it ensures that new fans are made everyday, the bts social media presence is an uncontrolled monster right now. Millions of insta, YT channels- most of them spreading a superficial image of BTS. It's for this reason, there are so many 'fans' out there who just love BTS for the few members and their visuals. I can guarantee you that they don't even know how streaming works, but they'll be sure to have an insta name like "mrs.jeon jungkook". If you made it to this part, I don't need to tell you how certain ships inducted their shippers through these very channels, spreading misinfo about the group dynamics and a completely manipulated idea of the boys, as if it's not real life, but some shitty bl drama.

While the company is obviously doing nothing about this mess, it is YOUR duty to focus on what's important as a fan and participate in projects that plan to counteract this mess. ( Of course only if you have time)

So..what does the hickey have to do with all this?

When you finally grow out of your perfect pure breed OT7 agenda, who considers this group of men a picture perfect family who can do no sin, you'll be ready to view the hickey/bite mark as a normal functioning member of the society who's in touch with reality.

Did I just write "pure breed"..

Let's say the hickey/bite does not actually mean anything intimate in a romantic sense. Sure. Even I think it was probably not an exclusively romantic thing. And this is coming from someone who ships them, but I do not see them as 2 people who are dating each other (because I don't claim to know their personal lives).

An older person biting the neck of a younger person long enough to leave a mark is NOT A NORMAL LEVEL of skinship. For friends, for family, for brothers. And this goes for Korea as well as at a global level. Not only k-jikookers but also k-armies had raised eyebrows when that happened. If you didn't raise your eyebrow at this, you need to go out more, have a social life, hang out with long term friends, idk.

But I'm sure if it was a man and a woman, you would have already declared that they are f@cking.

If you have observed jikook through the years, they have had an abnormal level of skinship that even surpasses skinship within their own group. Reminds me of the Butter photoshoot behind, where JK's hands so naturally slid under JM's crop top, like it was a usual thing. Now if one of them reacted differently or in a goofy way, I'd still brush it under the rug. But what had me scratching my head was the indifference. How close do 2 people have to be, for someone to SEARCH for familiar skin to touch?! Let's not forget how JK always touches JM's neck like a habit, massaging, holding, or just caressing, usually a little inside the collar.

Now if they were a man and a woman, you would have already declared that they are f@cking.

If you don't at the very least, acknowledge that it's an abnormally high level of skinship, and that jikook are at the very least, a highly interdependent, symbiotic, close, 2 souls-1 body entity, the closest duo in bangtan..then you are the delulu here. 🫵

I would advice such anons to stop visiting shipping spaces if you are bringing nothing to the table. (As I always say, opposing views are always welcome as long as you bring receipts and not hate). Maybe spend some time talking to real life people, couples, friends, you know?

#jikook #kookmin #fandom culture #bts army #bts #bangtan sonyeondan

118 notes · View notes