#I want to have something great to be destined with failure
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I love the star crossed lovers trope. It’s one of my top fives. Star crossed lovers are two people destined for failure. For destruction. For tragedy. Two people with this longing for each other. This need. This desperation. Two people who thought they could have it all but secretly knew their fate. They’re worlds apart, yet they don’t give up. They fight til the bitter end.
I love watching movies with star crossed lovers. Being able to see their faces. And their eyes when they look at each other. I love reading poetry of them. Looking at the comparisons. And being able to get a different understanding. But books. I absolutely live for the way the books describe them. Especially in 3rd person. 1st person is amazing. Don’t get me wrong. I love their opinions on each other. But third person you can understand what they’re both thinking in that moment. You see the face expressions of not only them but those around them. You can see the details. The slight but important details.
And mostly what I love about the books is you know before you pick it up their star crossed lovers. You know what they’re destined for. What they’re fated for. But you still read it because the book is that good. The story behind it is that good. That your fall in love with these characters just to watch their downfall.
#book talk#booklr#bookaddict#bookish#books#tropes#writing tropes#trope thoughts#deep writing#romeo and juliet#star crossed lovers#star crossed#fated by the stars#I want to have something great to be destined with failure#I want what they have. even if it’s bad at the end. I want the rush I get in the meanwhile#what always hurts the most is you know they’re not star crossed lovers by fault. they didn’t do it. if they could undo it they will#the icons the legends the ORIGINALS… Romeo and Juliet
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ɴᴏʀᴛʜ ɴᴏᴅᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪɢɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇꜱ
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and this was a prize post for surpassing a following milestone? im not sure but either way thank you for everyone who has helped me gain this much supporters <3
north node is now cheaper when trying to buy asteroids/others through my paid readings :)
i did my research by talking to close friends and researching celebrities! take the degrees with a grain of salt.
♇ the north node is about your individual path your life takes and inevitably becomes. can mean where you are exposed, what you could fear and even obsess over.
♇ north node in aries/1h [1°/13°/25°] ⟶ becoming a leader, being the face of something, a company, a show etc. being the first to do something, specifically within your family. anger issues, passion for sports or being a champion. excellent at theatre/acting, people might want to expose your life, your goals so they can steal. if not careful can become filled with rage, could have accidents with the head. could have a fear of being pushed aside, not recognised.
celebrities with this north node placement ⟶ mariah carey, emilia clarke and martin luther king.
♇ north node in taurus/2h [2°/14°/26°] ⟶ excellent cooks. to become rich, and obsession with feeling beautiful, could be obsessed with money. very possessive over other people or their own possessions. very vocal people. could get sore throats a lot, can have their privacy exposed/boundaries crossed. great singers, distinct voices, a need to be heard. and could have a lot of people wanting to be them, could have a fear of losing their value, or losing their possessions. classis beauty.
celebrities with this north node placement ⟶ lana del rey, sharon tate and bella hadid.
♇ north node in gemini/3h [3°/15°/27°] ⟶ spokespeople, known to say silly things. like to win arguments, very direct people. other people might ridicule or nitpick everything they say. insecure of not being taken seriously, be careful of car accidents or just bad drivers, being associated with cars. amazing at marketing, people could parade the person a lot.
celebrities with this north node placement ⟶ khloe kardashian, jfk kennedy and billie eilish.
♇ north node in cancer/4h [4°/16°/28°] ⟶ to make a family, a foundation or a legacy and leaving a will. to have a tribe, obsession with sense of belonging. conflict with family. disconnection with family, can also be a try-hard. can com from a popular family.
celebs with this north node placement ⟶ britney spears, prince harry and michelle obama.
♇ north node in leo/5h [5°/17°/29°] ⟶ charismatic, can be obsessed with achievements and goals. famous children. are very goal-oriented, can have a fear of failure, which sometimes causes them to be strict. protective over children, having children with popular/wealthy people and they can be easily admired and glorified. succeed in their talents and hobbies.
celebs with this north node placement ⟶ beyoncé, angelina jolie and kim kardashian.
♇ north node in virgo/6h [6°/18°] ⟶ could have a problem with health, obsession with being perfecting. servicing others, a worker, deep insecurities. copying others. could have a fear of not being perfect, anxious, can be harsh with your words. very erratic as well.
celebs with this north node placement ⟶ kylie jenner, jennifer lopez and kourtney kardashian.
♇ north node in libra/7h [7°/19°] ⟶ could be obsessed with getting into relationships. could have a fear of being disliked. beware of too much cosmetic surgery. inevitable marriage, soul-mate finding. marrying someone famous/wealthy. can be very flaky, needs to find balance. sometimes could find themselves with troubling marriages. fear of ending up alone.
celebs with this north node placement ⟶ madonna, michael jackson and ashanti.
♇ north node in scorpio/8h [8°/20°] ⟶ be careful with cosmetic surgery. obsessive spending, money obsession and sex. fear of losing everything, possessions, money and power along with liberty. destined to be or become rich or leave a legacy. obsessive, easily addicted to drugs and can be vengeful. could be stalkers or are the ones stalked and scrutinised by others.
celebs with this north node placement ⟶ megan thee stallion, paris hilon and jungkook.
♇ north node in sagittarius/9h [9°/21°] ⟶ teachers, students of life and researches. fear of feeling stupid or stuck in life. not believing yourself. can be very conceited, others might like to steal from others. feeling like a God, superiority complex; obsessed with learning. burn-outs or spoiled. can be too lustful; becoming publishers, directors and screen-writers. even Gurus, people looking up to them. trading illegal stuff, talent with bitcon.
celebs with this north node placement ⟶ ariana grande, cardi b and demi lovato.
♇ north node in capricorn/10h [10°/22°] ⟶ unbalance with power, authority issues. public clashes, fear of being forgotten or overlooked. seen as attractive, some can be crazy or pushed to be crazy. ambitious, rich and bold. can mean accidents, fear of being watched, fear of failing. obsessive with reputation and legacy, destined to be known for something, becoming a boss, or another high position.
celebs with this north node placement ⟶ adele, selena gomez and gwyneth paltrow.
♇ north node in aquarius/11h [11°/23°] ⟶ fear of loneliness and losing friends. could be a controlling friend or have friends who are controlling/manipulative. random fame, random wealth. fame from the internet, getting money from the internet. inventing something, creating trends and being a humanitarian. ego-death. accidents. deceptive friends or is the deceptive friends, angry conflicts on the internet, with friends or with people in the same community as them.
celebs with this north node placement ⟶ lady gaga, miranda kerr and the weeknd.
♇ north node in pisces/12h [12°/24°] ⟶ falling into delusions. obsessive and intrusive thoughts, can become famous, but fame will be very damaging fo the mental health. addictions, specifically with alcohol. nightmares. making sacrifices, people having ill-intent, doing witch-craft on you or you could be someone who practices it. can mean moving far from home place, nasty hidden enemies, having your dreams come true.
celebs with this north node placement ⟶ rihanna, justin bieber and marilyn monroe.
masterlist
paid chart readings
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#d4rkpluto#north node#nn#rahu#aries north node#1h north node#taurus north node#2h north node#gemini north node#3h north node#cancer north node#4h north node#leo north node#5h north node#virgo north node#6h north node#libra north node#7h north node#scorpio north node#8h north node#sagittarius north node#9h north node#capricorn north node#10h north node#aquarius north node#11h north node#pisces north node#12h north node#rihanna#marilyn monroe
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𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝
𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: You were a prodigy, destined for greatness, until one mistake cost you everything- your powers, your legacy, and your father’s pride. Now, powerless and adrift, you wait for your father's decision on your fate, unsure if you’ll face exile, servitude, or something worse. A shadow of who you once were, you push everyone away, drowning in the weight of your own failure. Then there’s Gojo Satoru. Your rival, your tormentor, and the last person you expect to care about your fall. But instead of mockery, his gaze carries something else - something you can’t bring yourself to believe.
𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 — teen!gojo satoru x f!reader
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 — heavy angst
𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 — mdni, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, prodigy!reader, reader is from clan, rivals with benefits, mention of sexual intercourse, hate sex, depiction of complicated relationship, loss of technique, hurt, mourning (pain, grief, regret), depression, self-doubt, changing body, depiction of loneliness, reader pushes everyone away, jjk clans are shit, family abuse, long term manipulation, smoking, drowning, failed attempt of self-destruction (gojo saves reader), reader goes no contact, reader becomes maiko/geiko later on.
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 — 11 k
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 — this is the longest list of warnings I have ever written, congrats to me (kidding). I don't know if anyone will like it. I know it's dark, very unhealthy and absolutely depressing. It's not good, and I don't recommend anyone to act in the way depicted in this fic. It is possible that I will remove it in the future. If you are struggling with such issues, I would highly encourage you to talk to someone you trust about it. However, I want to thank everyone who chooses to read this.
𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝
It really wasn't difficult to avoid.
You could've waited literally two seconds.
You could've let the assistant check the area as he should after the mission.
You could've not searched the area yourself.
You could've notified the assistant that you had found a cursed object, in the shrine debris.
You could've waited for the assistant to come up to check with you.
You could've not approached the cursed object.
You could've not picked it up. You could've been smarter.
Maybe if you were - you would still have your powers.
Your technique had been everything they claimed it to be. Rare, devastating, invaluable. It wasn’t just a skill - it was a mark of distinction, the proof of your place in a centuries-old legacy. The elders whispered of its rarity, marveling at the precision and control with which you teach yourself to wielded it.
They called you a prodigy, the one destined to elevate the clan to greater heights.
The weight of those expectations had always been crushing, but you bore it with a silent, unyielding resolve. You had to. You had no choice.
But there was another side to this. You wanted to bore it. You wanted to shush all the gossip, all the rumours that might suggest that you can't do something. Besides you found yourself enjoying this kind of powers
The whispers about your gender - about how being a woman might complicate your ability to lead, to fulfill the role they expected of you - only hardened your resolve.
You would prove them wrong, all of them, you told yourself.
But you also wanted your father's approval.
Your father was the only thing close to you. Your mother died in childbirth or left with a lover, you never knew which version was the truth. As a child, you never thought about it, the truth is, everyone around you only mentioned your father, how you should be his pride, his tribute and how you should do everything to make him feel content about you.
This propaganda worked.
And this mindset became an integral part of you.
His approval wasn’t just your goal - it was your oxygen, your sustenance. His rare moments of pride were your reward, and his disappointment - your greatest fear.
You could hear his voice in your mind, the way it would brighten ever so slightly when you succeeded "Good. This is good. Keep this up." those words had kept you going through grueling hours of training, through sleepless nights spent honing your skills to perfection. The bruises, the pain, the exhaustion - they were nothing compared to the glow of his approval, the fleeting light that told you you were enough, if only for a moment.
But his eyes also dulled with such terrifying speed when you stumbled, even slightly. A poorly executed maneuver, a delay in judgment during a sparring session, a lapse in control, all of it was met with silence, with the cold weight of his disappointment pressing down on you like a vice. It was in those moments that you became acutely aware of your imperfection, of how fragile his pride in you truly was.
This however had shaped you into a perfectionist, a creature of cold calculation.
Training became part of your life, your identity. You lived for the applause of the elders, for the murmured praise of the clan, but above all, for the fleeting flicker of pride in your father’s eyes.
He had once told you, long ago, when you were too young to fully understand his words, that you were his gift "Special, rare." he had said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it since "A gift I received at your birth."
You had clung to those words, replaying them in your mind whenever the pressure became unbearable. They were your anchor, your proof that you mattered, that you were loved - not as a daughter, perhaps, but as something far more valuable, something exceptional.
But in a perspective - you weren't the only exceptional thing in this world.
Even before you understood what rivalry meant, you had been told, over and over, how your birth ranked second in significance.
The second most talked thing.
The first? Him.
You had grown up under the long shadow of a name: Gojo Satoru.
A boy born with unparalleled power, eyes as vivid as the summer sky, whos very existence shaked the foundations of the jujutsu world. While your family whispered of your technique with cautious pride, his family declared him the strongest before he could even speak.
Comparison was inevitable. You were prodigies, both of you, but where your brilliance was honed through discipline, his was uncontainable, raw, and overwhelming. You were rare - he was the one.
You still remembered the first time you saw him. You couldn’t have been more than six, dressed in formal robes too heavy for your small frame, the silk scratchy against soft skin. The clan meeting was dull, filled with stiff adults exchanging words that meant nothing to you. But then, in the corner of the room, you felt a presence - bright, piercing, impossible to ignore.
When you turned, his eyes met yours.
Wide, unblinking, and startlingly blue, they stared at you like they could see through your skin, through your bones, through everything that made you, you. He didn’t say anything, didn’t smile or nod - just stared, like he was trying to decide if you were worth noticing at all.
Even then, something about him annoyed you.
As you grew older, the comparisons became sharper, louder. Clan sparring matches became a regular event, a spectacle for the elders to evaluate their bloodlines. You, Gojo, Kamo, that Zen’in heir, and a handful of others were pitted against one another under the guise of "training." But you all knew the truth. It was a game of dominance, of proving which clan held the strongest future.
Gojo made it a point to be insufferable.
"Chicken fights." he had once sneered, grinning as he sat perched on a rock like a king addressing his subjects. You had just beaten one of the Zen’in cousins, a victory that had left your father smiling faintly in the audience. But Gojo’s voice cut through the cheers "That’s all this is. You flap your wings, you strut around, but it doesn’t matter. None of you will ever beat me."
The others ignored him, too smart - or too scared - to engage. But not you.
"I’d rather be a chicken than a brat with a big mouth." you’d shot back, your voice steady despite the fire burning in your chest.
His grin widened, and for a moment, you thought he might actually take you seriously. But then he laughed - a loud, obnoxious sound that echoed through the sparring grounds "Cute." he said, hopping off his perch and walking past you like you weren’t even worth his time "Let me know when you’re ready to play with the big kids."
Now, years later, the rivalry had followed you into Jujutsu High, where it seemed impossible to escape him. The same classes, the same missions, the same suffocating aura of superiority that surrounded him wherever he went.
He was a little different. Not in the way you’d imagined someone "different" might be - quiet, mysterious, unassuming. No, he was loud, arrogant, and so assured in his strength that it bordered on unbearable.
The fire you’d felt as a child, that relentless desire to outdo him, to prove yourself, had cooled over the years. But it hadn’t gone out. Instead, it had transformed into something sharper, something a little colder - a blade honed not just to cut him down but to carve out your own space in a world that refused to see you as anything more than a shadow cast by his brilliance. It wasn’t just about beating him anymore. It was about standing on equal ground, forcing him - and everyone else - to recognize you as something other than second best.
You tried to take it slow, to ingore him.
Gojo didn’t make it easy.
He had a way of getting under your skin that no one else could. Just a glance from him could set your teeth on edge, that wide, knowing smirk playing on his lips like he was already ten steps ahead of you. He mocked you constantly, his words sharp and teasing, always laced with that infuriating arrogance that only he could pull off.
Every encounter was a contest, every conversation a challenge, every moment spent in his presence a battle for dominance.
You danced around each other endlessly, an intricate, unspoken rhythm that neither of you could break. One moment, he’d set the direction, leading with a cocky ease that seemed unshakable - the next, you’d outpace him, forcing him to catch up, to adjust to your steps.
The dance extended into every aspect of your lives. Missions became opportunities to one-up each other, to prove who was faster, sharper, more capable. Training sessions were wars of endurance, each of you pushing harder, refusing to yield until exhaustion forced a truce. Even on days off, when most people would relax or recover, you found ways to compete - whether it was sparring, aruging or something as mundane as seeing who could stack the most chairs before they toppled over.
His attention was relentless, his focus always sharp and unyielding. He discounted you with every other word, mocking your efforts, analyzing your achievements as if he were the ultimate judge of your worth. His words - arrogant and biting - were no better.
"Trying to catch up to me again? Good luck with that, shortcake."
"Don’t trip over your own shadow while you’re chasing me."
"Nice job today, small fry. Almost makes me feel like you’re worth competing with."
Each message was a spark, igniting the fire that drove you to prove him wrong, to show him - and yourself - that you were more than capable of matching him. To the point of beating him.
Neither of you ever held the upper hand for long - one day his victory, the next yours. The score didn’t matter, though. What mattered was that the fire between you never burned out, keeping you locked in this endless, maddening dance.
And maddening was pace of his hips that were thrusting into you every other day. The old floor, even with a layer of training mat, would creak under his powerful movements.
Both of you decided after some time that your dispute had to be settled by other means, so you challenged each other to a duel where there were no rules and all moves were allowed. It usually ended with the two of you meeting in the old training room after class, to resolve a conflict you were currently having. The winner was the one who first knocked his opponent finally to the ground.
Differently these encounters ended, sometimes he was the unbeatable winner, pounding you into the floor, bending you at every possible angle, whispering sweet nothingess and words of mocking encouragement to your ear, making tears drip down your flushed cheeks. Sometimes it was you who won, pinning him to the floor, bouncing off his hips in a frenzy, one in which you commented on how loud he was, how crying and pathetic he looked - words that were meant to degrade him, were just making his glimmering eyes roll back. Eyebrows raised and stupid handsome face twisted in a sigh so beautful that you would end up with the lost of insults after a while.
He won last week. Your asscheeks painfully pounded into the mat material, as your hands clasped tightly on his shoulders, creating scars that were meant to affect him, but only seemed to make him whine even more. Laughing breathlessly at your attempts to hurt him, as if he wasn't the one leaving rudely visible red marks on your neck that poke through uniform.
He'll probably laugh about winning his final match, too.
Because there will never be any again.
Everyone tried everything to undo the effects of what had happened - to remove the curse. When this proved impossible by the specifications of the object you touched, which could be called a trap, they at least tried to restore the flow of your cursed energy. This, too, proved to be a failure.
You’d told yourself, at first, that it must be temporary. That the connection to your technique would return, that this was just a setback. It had to be. Something so integral to your being couldn’t just vanish - it was part of you, wasn’t it?
That was you, right?
But each attempt proved fruitless. Every meditation session, every exercise, every attempt to summon even the faintest flicker of cursed energy - it all ended the same way: in silence, in emptiness.
The denial fueled your determination, pushing you into training sessions that bordered on self-destruction. You traded your technique for raw physicality, throwing punches at the training dummy until your fists bled, the skin splitting open as you struck again and again. And again. Sweat soaked through your clothes, mingling with tears you refused to acknowledge as they streamed down your face.
You screamed, raw and guttural, into the empty training field, but the sound brought no release, only exhaustion. You never shouted like that, never cried like when you fell on the ground and realised it was all pointless.
One conclusion came from your attempts.
You had been crippled.
"Maybe if I had a son, he wouldn't have made such a foolish mistake." the words clung to you, searing through the phone’s receiver like acid. Your father’s voice, sharp and cold, cut through the fragile thread of composure you had been holding onto. The regret, the disappointment, and - worst of all - the indifference. He didn’t even sound angry, just tired. Tired of you.
Your throat burned.
"Father, please..." but you didn’t know what you were asking for -mercy, understanding, or perhaps the impossible: forgiveness.
"You've squandered everything." his voice was steady, unaffected "Centuries of legacy, your birthright, your technique - gone. Do you understand the magnitude of what you’ve done?"
Do you? You couldn’t even bring yourself to speak. Your thoughts swirled into a vortex of self-loathing, replaying the moment over and over again.
"We'll talk later when I decide what to do with you." and just like that he hung up.
That was it. No comfort. No acknowledgment of the years you’d given, the sacrifices you’d made, or the countless moments you’d bled and bruised yourself into perfection. The line had gone dead with a finality that echoed through your chest like a hammer strike. His voice - so cold, so detached - ingered in your mind, cutting deeper than any curse could.
You set the phone down on the desk, your hand trembling slightly as you withdrew from it, as though it might burn you if you held on any longer. The chair creaked faintly beneath you as you sat motionless, staring at the wall opposite you.
You wanted to apologise to him, to beg his forgiveness for your mistake, for your stupidity, you wanted to cry on his shoulder, to apologise - again - that you had let him down. But he just wasn't interested. He was no longer interested in your perspective.
You, simply didn't interest him.
That room was dim, the shadows thick and suffocating, broken only by the faint glow of a single overhead light. It wasn’t enough to fully illuminate the faces of the elders who stood before you, their disapproval palpable, their voices sharp and cutting as they dissected your situation. Each word they spoke dug into your chest, stripping away what little pride you had left.
You were stripped off the title of a prodigy.
They called you a dissapointment now.
You became an example.
A cautionary tale.
The damage has already been done.
People tried to reach you. Geto, Shoko, Nanami - even Yaga made an effort to draw you out of your spiral. But their words felt hollow, meaningless. What could they possibly say that would fix what had been broken? They didn’t understand. How could they? They still had their power, their purpose, their place in this world. You didn’t.
He was on mission overseas, so maybe the information about your state didn't quite reach him yet. Not that you cared if he made contact.
He would probably just laugh at you anyway.
Of all these people Geto, had tried the hardest, his presence quiet but persistent. He tried to be there for you. But there was no you inside.
He’d sat beside one day, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. His touch, once an unremarkable soft gesture, now felt heavy - too heavy. You realized then just how much strength he had, how much stronger he’d become while you had only weakened. His grip, once equal to yours, now dwarfed it.
"You’re still here." he’d said softly, his voice careful, measured "That matters the most."
You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. The weight of his words pressed against your chest, but they couldn’t penetrate the hollow void inside you. Instead, you’d turned away, muttering some excuse to just leave.
You didn’t want his pity. You didn’t want anyone’s.
You didn't believe that anything else mattered to anyone except your gift. Not after everything that happends.
So you let yourself sink in that conviction.
Your own reflection became that a stranger. Each glance in the mirror revealed another part of yourself fading away. Your muscles, once taut and defined from years of rigorous training, softened, weakened. Your face, once bright with determination and pride, dulled, the light in your eyes all but extinguished. Even your posture changed, slouching under the weight of your defeat.
You avoided mirrors after that. It was easier not to look at yourself, not to see the person you’d become.
The thought of him haunted you. He was the only person who had not yet spoken about your situation. You could almost hear the laughter that would spill from his lips when he found out.
He’d won, hadn’t he? He will be happy that you lost.
Not through a sparring match or a test of strength, but through your own stupidity. He wouldn’t even need to lift a finger - your downfall was self-inflicted. The irony wasn’t lost on you.
He’d probably make a joke of it, something biting and sharp, something that would leave you hollowed out even further. The idea of facing him, of hearing his voice, made your stomach twist - but you kinda wanted him to say somthing to you.
Although you were sure what his reaction would be.
By early autumn you became a ghost of the person you’d once been, a shell going through the motions. The world felt distant, muted, as though you were walking through a haze. The wind carried the crisp scent of leaves, the air beacme sharp enough to sting your lungs as you exhaled. Your student status was taken away by higher-ups, they decided that sending you on a mission was pointless. Just like you. The peak of your skill now was ability to see a curse, not to fight one.
You could do whatever you wanted, so you went to all sorts of faraway places.
You’d grown used to the isolation. It was easier not to see anyone, not to hear the pity in their voices or feel their lingering stares. Geto had tried, tried and tried. Staying with you whenever he could, but even his presence, as steady and grounding as it was, felt too heavy. He tried talking to you, but your mind seemed closed to his willingness to help and his affectionate tone. You weren't a person who knew how to accept help from others, no one ever taught you that. Even if you appreciated it, you didn't know how to show it. And the truth was - you couldn’t bear the weight of his concern, couldn’t summon the energy to reassure anyone that you were fine.
Because you weren’t fine. You were no longer yourself.
That was the only thing that had mattered.
You wanted to disappear into the nothingness that seemed to have taken root inside you. You wanted to stop existing in a world where you no longer had a place, where the purpose that had defined you all your life was gone.
But instead, you thought. And thought. Alone, in the dark, your mind was a relentless spiral, turning over every moment, every decision that had brought you to this point.
You never really faced your fears before, you realized.
This and many other thoughts stirred in your head like a swirl, twisting your perception of reality.
You were walking through the school gates, the crisp golden leaves crunching under your boots. The sun hung low in the sky, its light casting long shadows across the pavement.
You really didn’t expect to see him.
He was back.
Snow-white hair catching the sunlight, posture impossibly relaxed, as if the weight of the world didn’t touch him. He walked with that characteristic ease, the kind that could embarrass a hundred men without effort. His phone was pressed to his ear, and you could hear his laughter even from a distance - light, careless, the kind of laugh that had always annoyed you.
For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t notice you. Of course - why would he? You didn’t even have the faintest trace of cursed energy anymore. You were just a random person, a shadow of who you’d once been, just a presence walking aimlessly on a pleasant autumn afternoon.
You kept your hands buried in your pockets, eyes fixed on the path ahead, determined to pass him without incident. Without one stupid comment. Without one look into that judging eyes.
You realized you weren't ready to face him. A whole range of emotions came up in you: anger, anticipation, sadness, wanting, resignation, longing, but most of all - shame.
But then his gaze fell on you.
You could feel it before you even looked up, the weight of his attention, sharp and unmissable. His eyes flicked over you once, casual and dismissive, but then he froze. Head snapped back in your direction, and the expression on his face shifted so quickly it almost startled you. Satisfaction melted into pure, unfiltered shock.
You didn’t stop.
You didn’t have the strength to deal with him, with his taunts, his smirks, his cutting words, his blue eyes. Not now. Not ever. You moved past him without a word, steps steady and deliberate, though your heart pounded in your chest so much.
You will let him enjoy his win in your silence.
"Oi!" his voice cut through the air, sharp, insistent "Stop you - Wait!"
You didn’t turn around. In fact you didn’t even flinch. Instead, you reached into pocket, pulling out the battered pack of cigarettes Shoko had handed you weeks ago. You lit one with a shaky hand, the ember flaring briefly before the smoke curled into the air. You inhaled deeply, the bitter taste grounding you as you kept walking.
Gojo stood frozen, watching you disappear down the path. He tried calling after you couple of times, louder each time. But he didn't run after you. Six Eyes scanned your silhouette with dangerous precision, noticing every small detail that had changed. The slump in your shoulders, the sharpness of your cheekbones, the dullness in your eyes. The lack of a slightest trace of cursed energy.
What the hell happend to you?
He hadn’t seen you in weeks, but the person walking away from him now was unrecognizable.
You weren’t just tired. You weren't yourself.
You came back hours later to pack your belongings.
The weight of tomorrow hung heavy in your chest, suffocating and inescapable. Your father’s decision loomed over you, its implications gnawing at your already fragile sense of self.
You decided to take a walk, one last time over the terrain you knew and loved so well.
You didn’t want to think about what he might have planned for you. You didn’t want to imagine the hollow life that awaited you, stripped of your identity and power. But the thoughts were relentless, swirling in your mind as you walked, each step taking you farther from the dormitory and deeper into the forest.
Would he make you a servant? Marry you off to someone important, someone who could salvage what little value you had left? Would he exile you to the far corners of the clan, where you would live out your days in quiet obscurity?
The possibilities churned in your mind, each one heavier than the last.
For weeks, you’d been coming here, searching for something in that reflection. Searching for the person you used to be, the prodigy who had stood tall and proud, who had been her father’s pride and her clan’s future. But all you found was a ghost, a shadow of what you once were.
The night was quiet, perfect for the last one here, the air heavy with the crisp scent of fallen leaves and damp earth. A pale moon hung in the sky, its light casting silvery ripples over the world, softening the edges of reality.
You crouched down, as you approached the edge of the water. Your hands brushing against the damp grass, and stared into the lake’s surface. For a moment, the sight of your reflection startled you, as it always did now.
You closed your eyes, for a brief moment, the quiet of the forest enveloping you. A faint rustle of leaves, the distant call of nightlife and the soft lapping of water against the shore - it was all so achingly peaceful. And yet, it offered no comfort.
The lake held no answers, no revelations. Just the same distorted reflection, the same fractured image of yourself.
The reflection there was faint, distorted, but still recognizable. You could make out the curve of your jaw, the hollowness of your cheeks, the dim light in your eyes that once burned so brightly. You stared at yourself, unblinking, searching for the person you had been.
But you were gone.
...
What is the point of all this?
The question came unbidden, as it had so many times before. It's not like you're usefull to anyone. Your whole life has been based on being a sorcerer, the next clan head also, but not being just a human. You don't know how to live a normal life - you don't know if you even want to live one.
You thought about the weight of your father’s expectations, the years you had spent chasing his approval. You thought about the countless hours of training, the bruises, the exhaustion, the fleeting moments of pride that had kept you going. And you thought about the emptiness you felt now, the void left behind by the loss of your technique.
It's all been bringing you to one conclusion for some time: you are nothing without your technique.
This is a painful truth that you had to accept some time ago.
You had the feeling that the water was looking at you - offering a hideout.
You moved, taking one hesitant step forward.
It won't be that bad, right? Everything is better than facing the consequences of your own stupidity.
Another step joined the previous one, your feet touching the cold surface. The smell of wet grass and vegetation wafted through the air.
You’d left everything behind on the shore. Your jacket, hoodie, and shoes - they lay in a silent heap, abandoned like everything else in your life. You won't need them anymore.
The water was cold. Icy. It cut through your skin like shards of glass, wrapping around you with an unforgiving grip as you plunged deeper and deeper into the darkness. The shock of it made your muscles tighten, but you didn’t fight it - not at first. You let the weight of the water pull you down, let the emptiness consume you.
Everything was dark, impossibly so, swallowing everything in its depths. You couldn’t see, couldn’t feel anything but the cold pressure against your skin and the burning in your chest as your lungs screamed for air. You let yourself sink further, closing your eyes against the suffocating blackness.
And yet, your mind wouldn’t still.
Thoughts came rushing in, unbidden, like a flood breaking through a dam. Every memory, every failure, every moment of doubt and despair surged to the forefront. The weight of it all pressed down on you, heavier than the water, dragging you deeper into the abyss.
You had thought this might be the solution. The way out. An escape from the suffocating spiral of your existence. But as the air in your lungs ran out and your body began to betray you, survival instinct kicking in, you realized there was no escape. Not from the memories, not from the pain, not from yourself.
Your limbs flailed, your arms slicing through the water as you tried to fight against the primal urge to breathe. Your body betrayed you, forcing you to the surface even as your mind screamed to let go, to give in.
Just a little bit.
But it was too late. The water felt thick, heavy, an impossible barrier keeping you from the surface. Your lungs heaved, desperate for air, but all they found was water. Cold, bitter, unrelenting water that filled your chest and drowned your last desperate gasp for life.
The memories came in flashes, fragments of a life that now seemed so far away. The pride in your father’s eyes the first time you mastered your technique. The sound ofm Geto’s gentle laugh on a quiet afternoon. Shoko’s quiet. The way Gojo’s voice had always irritated you, his smirk a constant thorn in your side.
They all felt so distant now, like they belonged to someone else. Someone who wasn’t a failure. Someone who still mattered.
And then there was the weight of the other memories - the shame, the disappointment, the voices of the elders as they condemned you. The coldness in your father’s tone when he told you he’d decide what to do with you. The emptiness that had consumed you in the weeks since.
You felt your body shutting down, your vision darkening as the water enveloped you. Your limbs grew heavy, your mind hazy. The struggle became a distant thing, like a flickering light fading out.
And yet, in those final moments, as the water pulled you under completely, one thought rose above all the others, sharp and unrelenting:
You are a failure.
Gasp.
The world returned to you in gasps and violent coughs, water pouring from your lungs as your chest heaved painfully. Your body felt like it had been ripped apart, the freezing cold of the lake still clinging to your skin, but the sharp sensation of something - someone - holding you brought clarity in a rush.
You blinked against the blurriness in your vision, barely able to make out the figure above you. His white hair was plastered to his forehead, the sharp strands dulled and dripping, and his electric blue eyes were wide, filled with a mix of fury, fear, and something raw. His hands trembled as they held you, but his grip was firm, refusing to let go.
Him.
You coughed again, turning your head as water spilled out of your mouth, your chest burning with each labored breath. Reality slammed into you like a punch: you were on the shore, cold earth pressing against your back, and he was the reason you were still here.
"No." you croaked, the word scraping against your throat like sandpaper. Panic surged through you, body reacting before mind could catch up. You twisted violently, shoving against him with what little strength you had left, trying to escape the strong grasp. You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t want to be saved.
He didn’t let go.
"Stop." he growled, his voice low and strained. It wasn’t the teasing, mocking tone you were used to. This was different. Commanding, almost desperate.
"Let go of me!" you shouted, your voice cracking as you thrashed against him, the fight in you born not of strength but of pure, unrelenting despair "Let me go, Gojo!"
"No." his grip tightened, his hands locking around your wrists as you tried to claw at him. You jerked and struggled, but it was no use. He was stronger, and even without your powers, you were nothing compared to him. The realization hit you like a dagger to the chest, sharp and agonizing. You couldn’t even free yourself. You couldn’t do anything.
"Stop it" he snapped, voice cutting through the chaos as he pinned your wrists to the ground, forcing you still. His weight loomed over you, his breath ragged and uneven as he glared down at you, his eyes burning with an intensity you couldn’t meet.
You froze, your body trembling beneath him, the fight draining out of you as the cold seeped deeper into your bones. The only sounds were the quiet lapping of the lake’s waves and the harsh breaths between you. For a moment, neither of you spoke. His chest rose and fell rapidly, droplets of water sliding down his face, hair wet. His grip on your wrists loosened slightly, though he didn’t let go.
"What are you doing? What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded, his voice rough and low, each word laced with something you couldn’t quite place. Anger? Fear? Pain?
You turned your head away, refusing to meet his gaze "You shouldn’t have stopped me."
His grip tightened again, his fingers trembling as they pressed against your skin "Stop you -" he cut himself off, his jaw clenching tightly as he took a shuddering breath "You’re such an idiot."
You wanted to scream at him, to shove him away, to make him understand that there was nothing left of you worth saving. To let you go and withered. But the words caught in your throat, tangled with the grief, anger and despair that had been building inside you for so long.
"What are you doing here? You've been following me?" your voice sharp despite the hoarseness from the water you’d just coughed up. You glared at him, still pinned beneath his weight, wrists trapped in his hands.
Gojo’s expression flickered between irritation and something you couldn’t quite place - concern? No, that wasn’t possible. He raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with his usual brand of mockery "No. Better -what were you doing here?"
You turned your face away, refusing to answer. The moonlight glinted off the water, its calm surface a contrast to the chaos swirling inside you. You could feel his eyes boring into you, Six Eyes missing nothing.
It didn’t take long for him to piece it together.
His grip on your wrists tightened, just slightly "You should have known better." he said, his tone shifting, lower now, more serious "With all that negative energy bottled up, you could’ve attracted a curse."
You snorted bitterly, the sound harsh and raw "As if I’m not already a curse."
His lips turned into a thin line, glimmering eyes narrowing as he leaned closer "Don’t say stupid things." what you said wasn't stupid, he was stupid for coming here and saving you.
"You are stupid for saving me." the words burst out of you, cracking, unrestrained.
The admission hung in the air, raw and cutting, and you hated how much it revealed. You hated how much he could see now. You felt as if he had caught you on something. Not only at this desperate attempt to avoid your fate, but also at being vulnerable. His face was so close now that you could see every drop of water clinging to his white long lashes, you could also feel the intensity radiating from him like a physical force.
"I told you not to say stupid stuff." he said, his voice low and biting, each word hitting like a hammer "You’re dumb enough as it is."
You wanted him to leave you alone.
You growled in frustration, your movements wild and erratic as you struggled against his grip, you tried to kick him, but to no avail "Let go of me, you asshole!"
"No." his response was immediate, tone resolute.
Can he listen to you for once?
"Fuck you!" you hissed.
"You already did!" he barked, his voice cracking through the tension like lightning.
You froze, the retort you’d been about to throw back dying on your tongue. That was an answer you didn't expected. It made you pause. Well...
Gojo sighed, a sound of exasperation tinged with something softer, something almost like… care "You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?" he muttered "But I’d rather deal with that than lose you."
What?
No, you must have overheard, he would never say such a thing to you.
You would almost believe those softly sparkling eyes, that looked at you in a way that it felt anxious. Well, almost, because you knew exactly who was saying those words to you. You scolded yourself for this in your head.
"Why the hell are you here?" you demanded an answer on dodged question, voice shaking with both anger and something dangerously close to despair "Did you save me because you were afraid you’d lose your favorite object of derision? To mock me? To laugh at how pathetic I’ve become?"
His eyes widened briefly, the accusation catching him off guard, before narrowing again in frustration "Do you seriously think I’d waste my time saving your sorry ass just to mock you?" he shots back "God, you’re so full of yourself sometimes."
"Then why?" you spat "Why did you saved me?"
He didn’t answer, his gaze shifting to the side, avoiding yours entirely. You could see the tension in his jaw. But he still said nothing. As the answer was too much for him to bear. He was about to speak, but he noticed the way you shivered violently, the cold catching you again. The soaked fabric of your clothes still clung to you, and the sharp autumn air made it impossible to stop trembling. Gojo changed his mind.
"I’ll let you go now." his voice lower, less biting "Get dressed - but no stupid actions."
His grip on you eased, and he moved back just enough to give you space, though not far enough to let you out of his reach. He stayed seated on the damp ground, watching your every move with an intensity that made your skin crawl. He didn’t trust you. Not yet.
You listened, you didn't have a choice now.
You crawled toward the pile of clothes, hands shaking so badly that it was difficult to grab anything properly. You stripped off your soaked shirt and pulled on your hoodie in a hurry, not caring whether he saw or not. You were too cold to care about modesty, too angry to care about anything else.
He also got dressed, buttoning up his sweats and putting on his jacket. The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating, until his voice broke through.
"Why do you act like a moron?" his words were sharp, almost accusing, but there was something beneath them - a tremor of genuine frustration. Not a trace of his previous gentleness.
You didn’t answer, keeping your focus on zipping up your jacket, your movements jerky and uneven.
He grabbed your arm suddenly, firm but not painful "Oi, answer me!" his voice rose, the intensity of it cutting through the cold air.
You snapped your head up, your eyes blazing as you glared at him "The hell do you want?"
All you wanted now was to escape to a warm room and cry.
His grip on your arm tightened for a moment before loosening slightly, but still there, his expression flickering from serious to worried to confused "Why... why did you want- " he struggled for the words, frowning "Why did you want to end it all? It’s stupid, this logic is idiotic even for you."
You growled.
"What’s dumb is that you don’t understand it." you shot back, your voice sharp, almost venomous. The anger bubbling inside you was the only thing keeping the cold at bay. You wanted to get up, but his grip kept you down.
"The stupid thing is what you’re doing." he countered, his voice rising again "Do you think your death will change anything?"
That was enough for you.
"Great!" you shouted, pulling your arm free of his grip and stepping back, your chest heaving as emotions boiled over "If I’m so fucking worthless, then let me die, for fuck’s sake!"
Shock.
Pure, undeniable shock.
Those vivid blue eyes of his, so infuriatingly piercing, widened. Eyebrows raised, lips parted slightly, as if he were about to speak, but no words came out. It's as if he doesn't believe you just said that. As if he just realised the seriousness of the situation. You saw his chest start to rise faster, not sure if from the cold…. or from panic.
"I don’t want you to -" he started, his voice breaking slightly, even softer than before.
But you crossed your limits.
"You won, okay!?" you cut him off, voice sharp, loud and trembling. The words spilled out of you like a flood, raw, unrestrained "You can rub my face in your victory now! I don’t care anymore! Torment me, mock me, laugh at me - now’s your time!"
His eyes narrowed, confusion clear as his brow furrowed "What?"
"Do it! Now’s the time where you can laugh all you want, insult me all you want - because now, at least, you have a reason!"
"I- " he tried to speak, but you wouldn’t let him.
"Tell me what a failure I am!" you suddenly cried "Tell me how I mean nothing, how all my efforts have gone to waste, how I’m worthless! Because now, at least, I’ll admit you’re right!"
"Stop-" he started, but his words fell flat against the force of your pain.
"Tell me how all your life you knew you were better!" you shouted, hands shaking as you gripped the sleeves of your jakcet "Tell me I’m an idiot, that I’ve always been dumb! Laugh in my face, mock me, just finish me! Say all the things you’ve been thinking, all the things you’ve wanted to say - just say it!"
Your voice broke completely, the words tumbling into a sob "You can finish me..." you choked "Come on. Just… just do it!"
This was to much, you felt so so much.
He was so disoriented. You could see this by his reaction.
"Because I'd believe you'd laugh than suddenly care what happens to me." you chocked.
Silence.
Tears blurred your vision. You were done pretending to have any pride left. You've had enough of everything. You didn't understand his reaction, his sudden tenderness confused you, everything was so wrong. You just wanted to get back to normal, when you - and everything had it's place.
But no, suddenly the world has turned - you don't have your technique, your father will probably disown you, and your rival and bully is suddenly trying to be nice. You don't want to be here anymore. You don't know how to find yourself in this world and you don't know how to talk about it.
It's humiliating to cry in front of him, you know it, but you don't care. You let it all out, just like the water from before.
He just stared at you, eyes wide, jaw tight. You could barely see through the fact that you sobbing next to him, hiding your face and bringing your legs to your chest.
"No." he whispered.
You blinked at him, raising your head, confused "What?"
"No." he repeated, louder this time, his voice firm but trembling "I’m not going to mock you."
You let out a loud bitter laugh, shaking your head "Of course not. Because you don’t even have to, do you? I’ve already done it for you."
"That’s not-" he cut himself off, shortening the distance between you "You’re wrong."
"About what?" your voice breaking again "About being a failure? About being nothing? Tell me what part of that is wrong?"
"All of it." he confirmed, voice steady now, glowing eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart clenched "Every single word. You’re not nothing. You’re not a failure. And I swear to God, if you say that again, I’m going to-"
"To what?" you challenged "Save me again? Drag me out of the lake and lecture me about how I should see the bright side of losing everything? Spare me the pity, Gojo. I don’t need it."
"It’s not pity!" his voice ringing loud, showing that emotions were also building up inside him. Unexpectedly, two large hands moved to cup your face, forcing you to look at him, to stare at two glowing blue dots "I’m not here because I pity you. I’m here because-" he faltered, voice catching as his breath hitched, his thumbs brushing against your cold, damp skin "Because I care."
The silence that followed was deafening. You froze, your face dropping as the weight of confession hit you like a tidal wave. He wonders if you know how much it cost him to tell you this directly. You, you wonder if what he says is a joke.
He... what?
His hands stayed on your face, steady despite the way they trembled slightly "I wanted to talk to you." the voice that came out of him was so quiet, so full of affection, that it was almost nothing like his "I started looking for you as soon as I got back from the mission. I wanted to... I don’t know, do something. Anything."
You burst out laughing bitterly, the sound sharp and raw in the stillness. It felt absurd, impossible. Gojo Satoru, your rival, the person you’d been compared to all your entire life, the one who mocked you, humiliated you endlessly, competed with you relentlessly - suddenly was caring about you?
You don’t believe him - because how could you?
For so many years, he had been the same infuriating presence in your life, treating you with an air of superiority and, at times, outright disdain. His words had cut shar, leaving wounds you’d carried silently for years.
There wasn’t a single thing he hadn’t laughed at. Your hair, he’d compared it to the end of a broomstick. Your smile? He’d once called it a donkey’s grin - or whatever the Japanese equivalent it was, delivered with his trademark smirk that made you want to slap it off his face. Your taste in music? "Cheesy pop thrash" And your clothes? Oh, that was his favorite target "Are you dressing ironically?" he’d asked once, tilting his head with mock curiosity "Or is this a social experiment I missed?" It didn’t stop there. He even mocked the way you walked once, calling it "Too stiff, like you’re auditioning for a role as a wooden puppet"., the way you ate "You attack food like it owes you money." and even the way you carried your books "Why are you holding them like that?" he’d said, mimicking your grip dramatically "You're so weak that you can't hold them properly?"
So yeah, it was laughable.
He may have saved you and you may want to believe in what he says, but you are just not able to.
Can you really blame yourself?
Well, kinda, because you were the one making out with him every other day. You might have believed that he liked your attention, that he might have wanted you - but you wouldn't believe that he wanted to care about you.
You reached up and pulled his hands off your face, your cold fingers brushing against his quite warm ones "Don't give me that. What could you supposedly do?" you asked, voice dripping with disbelief and mockery. The cold seeping back into your body now that his touch was gone
"Anything." he said, his words still tumbling out, almost frantic "Talk, sit with you, I don’t know - something. I- " he stopped, his own frustration bleeding into his voice "I don’t know." his eyes were so pleading.
You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to stop the tremors as you looked away "Don't bother." voice low, void of fight "Doesn't matter now. My father is picking me up tomorrow."
His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.
"I have heard too many versions, all from different people, of what my father supposedly planned that - that I don't know..." you paused, the lump in your throat growing unbearable as you forced yourself to say these words.
You wanted to say that you were afraid, that you didn't know what to do, that you felt you had let everyone down, that nothing made sense to you now.
That it was too much.
That you didn't allowed yourself any form of comfort.
"I know one thing, though." you hesitated, the weight of your next words heavy, but you looked up, meeting his gaze with trembling resolve "I’d rather die now, than live my life as a clan failure."
He growled, frustrated, as if nothing is working on his favour. As if he was breaking.
"Who cares what the clan thinks? Who cares about anything they say?" Gojo’s voice rising, desperate and insistent, his words coming faster now, blabbering "They’re a bunch of old fools who don’t know what they’re talking about! You are more than their expectations. You are more than your technique. You are - "
Maybe he wanted to comfort you that way or maybe he wanted you to believe his tale of him 'caring about you'.
But you had already made up your mind.
Gojo knew that you might not believe him in what he was saying now, he knew, that you would be angry with him for all that he has done- you were right - you should be. What he didn't predict, however, was that you would know him well enough to know this one hidden truth about him.
What you say now will leave a mark on him for years. You frowned, voice totaly sure of the words you're saying.
"Don’t preach to me about things you don’t even believe yourself."
You hadn’t spoken since that night by the lake.
Not when you were picked up, your father’s silence mirroring your own as you sat stiffly beside him, staring out the car's window. Not when he informed you of your new path with the cold efficiency of a man making a business transaction.
Your age wasn't very favourable for this, admittedly - you should have started your training as a maiko a long time ago, wanting to become a geiko. However, your father, using his connections, found a place that will accept you for training. He found an okiya in Kanazawa that from now on - will be your temporary home.
You didn’t fight him. You didn’t speak at all. You have done enough.
The years that followed were grueling in their own way, though nothing compared to what you’d endured before.
Training as a maiko demanded a different kind of perfection, a complete transformation of body and mind. The disciplined, precise movements of martial arts you had once mastered - were now replaced by the elegant, deliberate grace of traditional dance. Every step, every turn, every motion had to flow with effortless beauty, concealing the pain and time it took to perfect them.
You hated every second of it.
Your figure changed over time, slimming down in ways you hadn’t anticipated and curving in a few other places. You "got smaller", your once powerful frame softening into something more delicate, more feminine. Your reflection in the mirror became even stranger - a porcelain doll painted and adorned to please others. Gone were the rugged hands that once wielded cursed tools, now they held fans, makeup brushes, creating beauty where you once brought destruction.
The contrast was unbearable.
You missed the fight, the passion, the adrenaline, the raw exhilaration of your old life. Sometimes, as you trained with the fan, your body betrayed your mind, instinctively slipping into the stances meant for a sword. For your lost technique.
Every day felt like a reminder, a performance, not just for others but for yourself, as if pretending long enough might make you forget what you had lost.
But it didn't.
You never completely left your old self behind; the memory of that person remained vivid, etched into your mind. Recalling the past -missions, getaways, trainings, fleeting moments of triumph and connection - became a daily ritual. Nostalgia and grief intertwined, two of many companions that you had learned to live with, their weight both comforting and unbearable.
Despite it all, he kept reaching out to you.
Gojo’s messages came daily at first, long, rambling texts filled with details of his day - missions, strange encounters, little jokes he’d picked up along the way. He sent pictures of things he thought might make you laugh: a badly drawn doodle of you scowling, a ridiculous meme, a cursed object that looked suspiciously like a poorly designed toy. Each message carried a tone of casual insistence, as though he were trying to prove his point - that he cared. Or perhaps he was trying to reshape your relationship, to turn you from the rival he mocked constantly into something else, maybe - a friend.
Eventually, the messages slowed. Whether it was his own frustration, the demands of his life, or something else entirely, you didn’t know. You didn’t care to know. Cutting yourself off from him, from everyone, was the only way you knew how to endure.
At some point, you stopped reading them altogether. The weight of shame pressed down on your chest, suffocating any inclination to respond. You couldn’t face him - or anyone from your past. The person they knew was gone, and what remained of you was too broken, too hollow, to withstand their judgment or pity.
Your thoughts spiraled endlessly, dragging you deeper into a pit of self-doubt. You convinced yourself that no one could possibly care for who you were now - powerless, dull, and unremarkable. What was left of you wasn’t worth saving, and surely, he had to see that too. Eventually, you were certain, he would stop trying. And that thought, as much as it pained you, felt like the only mercy left.
Sometimes, you’d catch yourself hovering over his messages, tempted to open them. The thought of catching a glimpse of the snippets of his life - once so intertwined with yours - felt like a small, guilty comfort.
But no, you didn't do it.
Years just passed, and the day of your Kurokami, the ceremonial debut marking your transition to full-fledged geiko, arrived. Your father had spared no effort, inviting everyone of importance - every known clan in the jujutsu world, their representatives gathered on the sprawling estate for a grand celebration steeped in tradition and political maneuvering.
It wasn’t about you. It was never about you.
This was a spectacle, a carefully orchestrated display of your father’s influence and connections. Each guest, each detail, was part of a greater plan to cement alliances and further his ambitions. You were just another piece of that plan, an accessory to his power.
The highlight of the evening was the final dance of a maiko, the moment of transition - a symbol of beauty and accomplishment in its purest form. But it wasn’t your dance. It wasn’t you, his daughter, he didn't even introduce you.
No, you were just a dancer now.
You entered the stage in silence, your heart slowing as the soft glow of the spotlight bathed you in its warmth. The muted chatter of the crowd faded into an expectant hush, the weight of hundreds of gazes pressing down on you. The air felt thick, heavy with the unspoken demands of the evening. The elaborate kimono you wore seemed to amplify that weight, its intricate embroidery shimmering under the light. Each layer of fabric, from the trailing hikizuri hem to the opulent obi tied with meticulous care, felt like a chain binding you to the role you were expected to fulfill.
The role that you didn't like.
The adornments on your hair - a delicate array of golden combs and jade pins - added to the strain, each piece glinting like a reminder of the perfection demanded of you. Even the subtle fragrance of incense clinging to your garments seemed to emphasize your place in this performance: a symbol, a display, but never a person.
Your movements, however, betrayed none of your inner turmoil. You moved with the fluidity that had been drilled into you for years, every step and turn perfectly calculated. The soft clack of your lacquered sandals against the polished wood echoed through the room, a rhythm as precise as the dance itself. Each motion was a testament to your training, your arms flowing gracefully as though carried by the air.
And then you saw him.
He’d changed. A lot. The years had shaped him into someone sharper, more refined, though the essence of him - remained unmistakable. His snow-white hair was still its signature mess, but it seemed more intentional now, as though he’d taken the time to style it. The glasses he wore were different, darker and sleeker, framing his face in a way that gave him an air of maturity you weren’t prepared for. Somehow, impossibly, he seemed even taller.
Even more handsome.
You couldn’t remember every detail of his face - time had eroded those memories - but some things stayed vivid. You remembered his hands cupping your face that night by the lake, trembling and warm despite the chill. You remembered the look in his eyes, desperate, as if trying to hold onto something slipping through his grasp. Those moments had etched themselves into your mind in ways you hadn’t dared to revisit.
Is it bad that you missed seeing him?
At first, his expression was unreadable, his lips slightly parted as though he’d been caught mid-thought. His usual cocky smirk, the one you had come to know and despise - was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a stunned stillness to him, an uncharacteristic vulnerability that made your chest tighten. Those piercing blue eyes, always so vivid, widened as they traced your figure.
You could see the faint flicker of recognition in them, the way his gaze darted across you as if trying to reconcile the person before him with the one he had known.
You couldn’t glance at him as much as you wanted to, though the urge tugged at you with every turn, every delicate gesture. The temptation was a steady hum beneath your practiced composure, but you ignored it.
Whatever he felt, whatever you felt, didn’t matter. Not here. Not now.
It was the longest performance you've ever done.
When your it ended, the room erupted into applause, a symphony of polite enthusiasm filling the grand space. Guests turned to your father, their compliments flowing freely, every word dripping with veiled flattery.
"What a remarkable performance, truly exquisite." one elder said, nodding with approval. He said this loud enough that you could hear him.
"Master, your planning is unmatched." said another, their tone measured and calculated "A brilliant highlight for the evening."
But not him.
He didn’t join the chorus of praise. He didn’t clap. He didn’t say a word. He just sat there, silent, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you with an intensity that felt like it might swallow you whole. The weight of his gaze burned hotter than any ovation, lingering on you as though he were trying to reach across the distance, trying to say something without words. Maybe something like - look at me again.
You didn’t dare to do this again, too afraid to face him, to face the reality of all you’d ignored: the messages you’d left unread, his attempts to connect with you, his clumsy, awkward texts filled with jokes and small glimpses of his life. You couldn’t bear the thought of the weight in his gaze reflecting those unanswered words, those years of silence between you.
Instead, you kept your head high, your back straight, your movements precise as you exited the stage. You didn’t need to see his face to feel his disappointment - or his persistence. It lingered in the air, following you even as you stepped out of the light.
© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission
#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#jjk x reader#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo angst#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk angst#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojo angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen angst#jjk clans#jjk hurt/nocomfort#jjk no comfort#jjk smut#jjk dark content
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Bit of a random question, but as a teen I'm curious, what would you want to say to kids of today? Any advice?
Hm... every person's life journey is different, but I don't mind giving a few tips based on my personal experiences! If they can help in anyway then I am glad for it!
Ted Talk below the cut.
Life will always change. YOU will change. You may feel stuck or trapped in some aspect of your life right now and are worried that things will never get better. But they do... it will take time, but you will get there so long as you keep moving forward.
Try not to stress too much. All those things that seem like such a big deal right now... most of them will be forgotten within a few years. So it helps when you feel overwhelmed to step back and not let these little (or even big) missteps take control of your life.
No really, go touch grass. I can not express how important it is to disconnect from social media and just be present in the moment. Going out to a cafe or a park to help you unwind and ground yourself. If life allows, try traveling! Even if it's just a road trip. Get out and see and experience different things because those will be the memories that will stick with you!
Change things up. Even if that's just taking a different path to school or trying a different snack. I find that stepping away from the mundane daily schedule helps bring so much more variety to my life and helps me be more present in the moment.
Be flexible. Especially in your goals and expectations. We're expected at such a young age to choose our destination in life, when it's the journey itself that we should be seeking. So while it's great to have goals, do not make them so rigid that you will deem yourself a failure should they not come to pass. Often times it's the things that surprise us in life that help lead us to opportunities we had never even considered.
Your worth does not come from what you produce, or how many milestones you hit, or how much money you make. It is something you give yourself as you relearn time and time again to love yourself.
Your health is important! It is something we often take for granted when we’re younger but it will mean so much as you age. Also should you feel that you’re ever in pain or unwell, speak up. There are so many instances of people coming to greater harm because they only listened to the first doctor who brushed them off. Seek a second opinion. Know that your body is worth proper care!
Just because you have to grow old does not mean you have to "grow up." Those things you loved that sparked joy in you as a kid? Hold onto them or find new ways to instill them into your life. Keep that passion and remember what fun is! Because you will need it just as much when you're older. It is a major ingredient in the spice of life.
Remember, you ARE special. You may not feel like it... but the fact that you exist is such a mind boggling feat in this vast universe of mostly empty space. While that may be difficult to grasp as we are, stuffed in this tiny jewelry box we call Earth, that does not make any one of us any less special in the grand scheme of things. And in this tiny but overflowing box of treasures, there is no gem that is quite like you. You managed against all odds to come into existence. That is AMAZING. Congratulations! Hard part is already done. Now go shine!
#ted talk#Kat talk?#important note though! Age does not always equal wisdom! I'm still figuring it out as I go too haha#but if it helps even one person then it will be worth it!#q&a#life advice#from a little old girl#sorry anon it took so long for me to respond#life has been busy
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i couldn’t be more in love - steve harrington
a/n: hi! here’s a lil angsty steve one shot for y’all (unedited) this is my first time writing steve so please be gentle with me. requests are currently open. thanks for reading and as always all support and criticism is extremely appreciated! hope you enjoy, lots of love - florie <3
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve’s fears of not being good enough for you cause him to end your four year relationship and leave you heartbroken. even though he tries his best to move on and let you go, his undeniable need to protect you results with you in his bed at the end of a night out.
word count: 7.8k
warning(s): cursing, crying, drinking, mention of weed, parental pressure, throwing up, angst, mentions of insecurity about self worth, smut, no use of y/n, steve and reader are 19/20.
“Ignore it.” Robin said, pushing an overflowing red solo cup into your hand, lukewarm beer sloshing over the rim to drip down your arm.
You shot her a glare and huffed, “I’m trying to.”
She stepped in front of you, blocking your line of vision to who you had been staring daggers at in the corner of the room.
Steve Harrington. Your ex-boyfriend. Your twin flame. Your soulmate. The love of your life.
And her. His new fling.
They had been going at it for the past 5 minutes, they hadn’t even stopped to catch their breath.
You could remember when you and Steve were like that, attached at the hip, disgustingly affectionate.
You weren’t even sure when you had stopped being like that. All you knew was that three weeks ago he had sat you down, taken your hands in his own, eyes glossy, and said the words you had hoped you would never have to hear from his mouth.
“I think it’s time we go our separate ways.”
The second he said it you felt something inside of you drop, trickle all the way down to the tips of your toes and onto the floor, it’s absence leaving your whole body cold. When you and Steve started dating, a comfort that you had never been familiar with before found a home in you and put you at ease for the first time in your life. When you were with him your head and heart were so full of love that any familial or personal pressures that typically plagued you were forced out, there was no more room for them. Your parents overbearing wishes and your perpetual fear of failure were overpowered by his sheer admiration of you, it had always been said that you were destined for greatness in all your endeavors, but Steve never really wanted greatness, he only wanted you. Until he didn’t.
Now you watched them and fought to ignore the pain stabbing into your heart. While his hands roamed over her body you thought back to a better time, a sweeter time.
- - -
Steve slung his arm around your shoulders as you walked past a group of football players who were passing around a poorly made bong on the front porch. They shouted various greetings to your socially esteemed boyfriend who returned their welcome with a nonchalant wave of his hand.
You tilted your head to speak into his ear as you passed through the front door.
“Whose house is this again?”
“You remember Jimmy? I introduced you two at my house last week.”
“Right.” you remembered, one of Steve’s teammates from basketball. “And you’re sure it’s okay that I came, you know without an invitation?”
Steve’s lips twisted up into a lazy smirk and he couldn’t help himself from pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek.
“You’re my plus one, baby. Course it’s okay.”
As you made your way through the party you tried not to feel intimidated by the amount of people flocking to your boyfriend, guys pulling him into half assed hugs, and girls pressing into him, their glossed lips wrapping around sultry hellos.
Steve didn’t seem to pay it any mind, he kept his arm wrapped tightly around your waist ushering you through the crowd until you had reached the drink table in the center of the kitchen. He lifted you up so you sat in front of him atop the counter and shuffled his way between your thighs.
“Whaddya drinking?” he crooned, smooth as always.
“Dunno.” you mumbled, lost in the way his eyes burned into you.
“You want something sweet, honey?” he teased, his hands finding a home just above your knees.
You nodded dumbly as his fingertips traveled up and dipped just under the hem of your skirt.
“Me too.” he agreed and laughed softly, motioning to his lips with the point of his finger. “Lay it on me.”
You pecked him once leaving your cheeks warm and he hummed contently against you before pulling away.
“Alright, now that we’ve got that sorted. How bout a shirley temple?”
He started pouring soda and grenadine into a cup of ice, dumping in two shots of vodka to finish it off while you watched, your feet lazily swinging from where they hung above the ground.
“Cherry on top?” he asked, pulling a jar of maraschino cherries from the door of the fridge.
“Please.” you replied, sticky sweet.
“Well fuck.” he scoffed, twisting the lid off. “I’d cut my right arm off if you asked like that, honey.”
- - -
You were slowly nursing your second drink of the night and had no desire for a third. In all honesty what you really wanted to do was walk home and hide in your bed but you knew that wouldn’t be happening, Robin wouldn’t allow it.
She had practically dragged you from your tear soaked sheets and forced you into the little red skirt and matching cropped angora sweater you had bought impulsively as a post breakup gift for yourself.
“You really need to get out.” she said while you begrudgingly swiped mascara through your lashes, just a few hours earlier.
“I’m not ready yet, Robs.” you complained, turning in your vanity chair to face her. “What if he’s there? What if he’s with that girl?”
“That girl” being Donna, a stunning hair stylist who worked at the salon across from Family Video. Robin had been keeping you filled in on their budding romance since it began, how she had come in one Tuesday and slid a gum wrapper scribbled with her number across the counter with her perfectly polished nails while Steve was helping her checkout. He had taken her out that weekend and they had been seeing each other casually since.
Robin threw a fashion magazine she was flipping through on your bed to the floor, “Who cares? You know I love you and I wouldn’t want to say anything to upset you while you’re-” she paused to grimace at the pile of soggy tissues covering your nightstand. “...fragile. But, obviously he’s moved on and it’s killing me to see you still stuck on him when you’re so clearly out of his league.”
You stared at her blankly, “I’m out of his league?”
“Duh! This is Steve Harrington we’re talking about, I once watched him have a 20 minute “lightsaber duel” with Henderson using a mop.”
You scrunched your nose trying to hide the fact that you found that incredibly endearing and not at all dorky before you responded, “Yet he’s the one who dumped me.”
She sighed in full dramatics flinging her head off the end of your bed so she was staring at you upside down, “Exactly! What kind of a dingus would do that?”
You frowned at yourself in the mirror before powdering your nose for the third time, “Someone who’s moving on to better things.”
“I call bullshit.” she declared. “How does it get better than you? Once you get yourself all pretty and a couple of drinks in your system you’ll forget who Steve Harrington even is.”
“Doubtful.” you retorted.
Robin came behind you, her expression pitiful as it reflected in your mirror. “But, would it kill you to try?” she asked hopefully.
You shrugged and swiped a cherry scented gloss across your lips, “It might.” you said honestly. “But, I guess I’ve got nothing left to lose.”
Robin beamed at you through the mirror and smacked a kiss to the top of your head before practically skipping to the other side of your bedroom.
“Well, then hurry.” she said, pulling her pin-covered denim jacket over her shoulders. “We leave in 10.”
Now that you were at the party, staring at the person you loved more than anything in the world with his tongue down another girl's throat, you realized you did have something to lose, the contents of your stomach.
You turned to Robin, who was beside you eyeing a girl who had come into Family Video last week in search of any Molly Ringwald movie she could get her hands on.
“I think I’m gonna yack.” you whispered.
“What?” she questioned. “You’ve hardly had anything to drink.”
“It’s not the alcohol making me queasy.” you replied, gesturing to Steve and Donna pressed against the wall opposite to you.
“I thought I told you to ignore him?” she said, still slightly distracted.
“Easier said than done.”
She took a moment to look at you, her best friend. It honestly hurt her to see you so down on yourself. All she wanted was for you to have a good time after weeks of sobbing in her arms and isolating yourself in your room. She looked around the room until her gaze fell upon a beefy blonde eyeing you from the beer pong table.
“You wanna play a game of pong?” she said, gesturing to the table.
“Not really.” you replied, your eyes unmoving from Steve’s back.
“Too bad.” she decided, tugging you behind her.
“Robinnn” you complained, following her.
When the two of you reached the table the blonde in question sauntered over to you, drinking you in with his stare.
“You girls up for a game?” he shouted over the music.
You shook your head timidly while Robin replied, “Absolutely.”
The boy pulled you into his side with an arm around your back and spoke into your ear, “You’re on my team, babe.”
You looked helplessly to Robin who only nodded and mouthed to you, “Go for it.”
“You got a partner?” he asked her. She looked around and shrugged.
You turned your focus to reorganizing the scattered cups on the table into a pyramid, your head shooting up when your new partner’s voice cut through the room.
“Harrington!” he called. “Come play, we need another person.”
Robin’s eyes widened as she tried to assess what the quickest escape for you would be.
But Steve was faster, approaching the table with Donna under his arm still unaware of your presence.
He saw Robin first, her face red and eyes locked on yours. Then he focused his attention on the man beside you who once again pulled you close and then spoke, “It’s you and her against me and this pretty thing.”
Then Steve saw you, your cheek mushed against the blonde douche’s shoulder, bottom lip wobbling as you suffocated in the unexpected eye contact.
Donna leaned in and whispered something in his ear that made his jaw clench and he shooed her back gently with the wave of his hand.
“Sorry, bud.” he said, eyes unmoving from yours. “Not interested.”
As quickly as he was there he was gone.
You were seconds away from crumpling to the ground when Robin pulled you from the man’s arms.
“Fuck,” she said, her hands on your shoulders. “I’m sorry, I had no idea he was coming over here.”
You shook your head, dismissing her apologies. “It’s not your fault, I just-” your voice cracked and you looked at her wordlessly. “He didn’t even acknowledge me.”
She frowned and pulled you into a hug, “He’s a massive idiot.”
“Are we still playing?” The blonde asked, dumbfounded.
“Sorry, but fuck off.” Robin replied, before walking towards the kitchen, arms still wrapped around you. “We’re taking shots. Lots of them.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
Robin pulled a bottle of vodka from the many assorted liquors lined up on the table in front of you.
“Y’know how they say the best way to get over someone is to get under them?” she asked, already pouring the shots.
You nodded weakly.
She shoved the tiny glass into your hand, “That’s a lie.” she declared. “The best way to get over someone is to get absolutely shit faced.”
You recalled Steve’s expression when he saw you, it was cold, not exactly unbothered but withdrawn. You recalled her hands on him, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, and her words affecting him.
You slung the glass back, the liquid bringing a welcome burn to the back of your throat. Then you took another. Then another. Then another.
Within the hour you were somewhat distracted from your heartache. You and Robin were squished together on a couch with Nancy and Jonathan, all giggling drunkenly in response to the story Jonathan was sharing of an encounter he had with an inebriated pizza delivery boy the week prior.
You had lost count of your drinks and your head was feeling increasingly heavy to hold up, making your neck ache. You didn’t really mind the pain, in fact you welcomed it, this pain was much easier to manage then the dull throbbing kind that had been tormenting your heart. Your head fell back against the cushion behind you and you felt as if the world was spinning off its axis beneath you. Your elbow dug into Robin’s side making her groan in annoyance. The lights in the room started to overwhelm you and a wave of nausea washed over you.
“Robin,” you mumbled, eyes squeezing shut.
“Hm?” she hummed in response, her head lolling to the side.
“M’gonna be sick.”
“Now?”
You swallowed thickly and shakily rose to your feet. “Right now.” you confirmed. You started pushing past people in pursuit of the bathroom, you could hear Robin behind you faintly.
“Coming,” she said. “Slow down, I'm right behind you.”
You ran up the stairs, as fast as you could in your current state, hands clawing the railing for balance. You stumbled through the hallway, checking behind you when you had reached what you hoped to be the bathroom door only to realize you had lost Robin along the way.
Your clammy hands turned around the knob and your body fell limp against the door as it swung open, fluorescent light invading your eyes. You dropped to your knees and shoved the door shut behind you, too nauseous to attempt locking it. Your hands shook as they gripped the toilet pushing up the seat before heaving roughly into the bowl.
Your eyes squinted shut as your head pounded, the music playing from downstairs was slightly shaking the foundation of the house and you were suddenly longing to be carried away and tucked into your bed.
You thought of Steve, not whoever it was you encountered downstairs. But your Steve, the one who would give you piggyback rides from the bar to where his car was parked blocks away when your feet hurt. The one who sat criss-cross applesauce on Nancy Wheeler’s bathroom floor with you in his lap, peppering your shoulders with kisses when you got too drunk last New Year’s Eve.
You brought the back of your hand to your mouth wiping roughly, your cheeks were wet with tears. You must’ve been sitting there for at least fifteen minutes, thoughts lingering on the past. When had you even started crying? You tore at the toilet paper roll beside you and balled up a sizable portion, you wiped at your eyes furiously, disregarding the mascara that was surely staining your face.
What a mess.
You shuddered at the thought of Steve seeing you like this, messy and broken and crumpled on the floor. You wondered what he would think, if he would feel sorry or just sorry for you.
As if the universe were playing some sort of cruel joke on you, while the thought floated around your head you heard the door unlatch and when you reluctantly followed the sound you saw him standing above you like some sort of awful miracle.
He looked shocked first, not expecting anyone to be in the room, but then the guilt washed over his face and you knew he had realized what he really walked into.
“Fuck, hon-.” he stuttered, his hands reaching out instinctively.
The half murmured term of endearment felt like a punch in the gut and you physically winced as he approached you.
His eyes filled with hurt at the way you reacted to his entrance, he used to scoop you up in his arms and quiet any of your pain with nothing but his presence and whispered words of comfort.
“Go,” you pleaded, your voice scratchy and raw.
“I can’t just leave you lik-” he sighed, and looked at you helplessly, as if saying what do you expect me to do. As if leaving you heartbroken and soiled on the bathroom tiles would be physically impossible for him, like he wasn’t the reason behind it.
“Are you okay?”
You sniffled and stared at the floor, “Please go.”
Steve squatted beside you and hesitantly reached out. He swallowed hard when you flinched under his touch as he pushed the hair out of your eyes, ensuring it was only mascara marring your pretty face and you weren’t physically harmed.
You refused to meet his eyes and when he tried to pull you off the ground, tugging gently on your hands, you shook your head.
“What do you think you’re doing?” you protested.
“Taking you home, c’mon.”
“No,” you argued. “Why would I do that? No, I’m- I’m here with Robin, she’s-”
“She’s passed out downstairs,” he interrupted. “You need to go home.”
“You’re drunk. I’m not-”
“I’m stone cold sober.” he informed, bringing his finger to his nose and then extending out as if he were doing a field test.
You finally locked eyes with him, and the unshed tears that sat brimming on your waterline seemed to drown him.
“I can’t, Steve.” you cried. “I can’t be in a car with you and…her.”
His shoulders fell a little and his expression softened ten fold.
“She’s not- I wouldn’t put you through that.” he said, as if it were obvious. “That’s why I’m not drinking,” he explained. “I already took her home, she’s babysitting her little brother tomorrow morning. She couldn’t stay late.”
You scoffed wetly, “How responsible of her.”
“Be nice.” he warned and you wanted to punch his perfect face.
“I’m not nice.” you slurred, under your breath.
“Bullshit,” he replied. “If someone hit you with their car you’d be the one to apologize.”
“Not anymore.”
“Don’t buy it.” he dismissed “Can you walk?”
“M’fine.” you clipped, rising to your feet while trying to ignore the feeling of the ground swaying under your feet and the pit of nausea still living in your stomach. “Gonna walk home.” you decided, pushing past him to get out of the tiny restroom.
He caught your forearm in the hallway, steadying your wobbly walk. “Yeah right. I’m taking you home. C’mon, I’m parked out front.”
You tried to tear yourself out of his grip, blaming the fluttery feeling in your stomach on your overindulgence.
“I don’t want your help. Okay?” you barked.
He ran his free hand through his hair and sighed, discouraged. “Look, I know you must hate me right now and I understand…” he paused and his expression remorseful. For a second you caught a glimpse of the man you loved, the man you still love. “Three weeks doesn’t erase four years. Please, let me take you home.”
Your will to fight him dwindled fast and you had to actively restrain yourself from embracing him and burying your face in his chest.
“Robin-” you started. “I can’t just leave her here.”
“I know.” He smiled sadly, still in complete awe of the way you cared for those lucky enough to be loved by you. “Go wait by the door, I’ll make sure she has a way home.”
“Thank you.” you mumbled.
“Of course.” He said, the second half of the sentence dying on his tongue. Anything for you.
You slowly made your way to the door and leaned against the wall, forcing air into your nose and out of your mouth in heavy puffs. You could feel your nerves buzzing beneath your skin at the prospect of being in a confined space with the person who dizzied you most in the world.
When Steve returned your eyes had drifted shut and your hands rested on your temples.
“Nancy and Jonathan are gonna give her a ride, they’re leaving in about an hour.” he informed. “You okay?”
You nodded slowly in response, “Thanks again.”
He hummed and opened the door for you, his hand instinctively finding its way to rest on your lower back and guide you out of the house.
When you got to his car he opened the passenger door, helping you in and leaning across you before you had a chance to shut it to secure your seat belt into place. Your whole body tensed when his fingers brushed against your hip and he muttered an apology.
He joined you in the car and switched on the radio before pulling away from the party in the direction of your house. Neither of you spoke as you exited the neighborhood so you laid your head against the window and watched the trees under the dim street lights as you passed by.
He turned a corner and you pressed your fingers into the leather seat beneath you to fight the unrest in your stomach that arose from the car’s motion.
“So, why’d you come back?” you asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Y’know after you dropped her off.”
Steve’s fingers tightened around the wheel and his eyes flicked to the side to see you looking at him timidly.
“I said I’d help clean after.” he lied, swallowing the truth with a forced gulp.
He couldn’t tell you the real reason behind his return, that he had been in agony imagining you at the party saddled up with some former jock, no one there to supervise your open drinks, or to ensure you had a safe way to get home.
“And now you’re driving me home.”
He realized leaving again before the party was over contradicted his lie and cleared his throat.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
You felt the sadness that had been lingering in you all night slowly turn to anger.
“Of course I’m not.” you clipped, facing out the window again.
“Sorry,” he said. “That was probably a stupid thing to say considering…” he trailed off, biting his lip so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he were to draw blood.
“Considering you dumped me and got a new girlfriend within a few weeks?”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” His heart hurt at the idea that anyone but you could hold that title.
He turned into your neighborhood and you had never been more thankful to see your house in the distance, that is until you realized all the lights were still on. Your parents were still up. Fuck.
To anyone else this may not have been a big deal, you were legally an adult but that never seemed to matter to your parents who were as strict as nuns when it came to drinking.
Steve seemed to notice the lights as well because his car came to a stop a few meters before your driveway.
“Well shit.” he remarked
“I can’t go in.” you said. You knew you must’ve looked quite disheveled, most likely smelled of alcohol and while you felt much more sober since emptying your stomach you knew there would still be a sway in your walk and a slight slur to your voice.
“You can stay at mine tonight,” he offered.
You laughed in amusement and anger. “I don’t think so. I can go to Robin’s.”
“She’s staying at Nancy and Jonathan’s and they won’t even be there for another 45 minutes at least. You can sleep in the guest room.”
He put the car in drive again and started towards his place before you could argue anymore.
The rest of the ride was spent in silence, nothing but the quiet hum of the radio and the drum of Steve’s fingers on the steering wheel. When he pulled into his garage you got out before he had the chance to do anything annoying and chivalrous like open your door or help you exit the vehicle.
You stepped inside the house that may as well have been haunted, every nook and cranny linked to some fond memory you shared with your ex boyfriend. The kitchen where he had miserably failed at cooking you an anniversary dinner, the shower where he carded his fingers through your sud soaked hair, the bed where you had lost your virginity and he held you in his arms till the morning came. Every part of this house was woven into your love story and you felt suffocated within its walls.
He threw his keys onto the kitchen table and kicked his shoes into the corner as you stood frozen in front of him taking in your surroundings as if for the last time.
“You can shower if you want,” he offered. “There’s some towels in the guest bathroom.”
“Okay.” you replied coolly.
“Just stay there a sec, I’ll go grab you some clothes.”
Your eyes were glued to a slightly faded polaroid of the two of you stuck to the fridge with a Hawkins High Basketball magnet. The fridge was barren otherwise, Steve’s parents not the type to decorate with school pictures or family memorabilia. The photo had been taken the night Steve told you he loved you and the night you returned the sentiment. In the picture your cheeks were pressed together, spread taut with matching smiles. You had been so happy that night, quite opposite to how you were feeling now.
Steve startled you from your thoughts with a gentle hand on your shoulder, he followed your line of sight to the photo and spoke, “One of my favorites. You looked breathtak-”
“Steve,” you cut off coarsely. “Just stop it.”
“Sorry, I just…it doesn’t matter. Here,” he said, handing you a stack of folded clothes that you recognized as your own. “I didn’t think you’d wanna wear anything of mine and I remembered I had these in the back of my dresser.”
You accepted them with no word of thanks and tried to convince yourself that he was right, that you hadn’t wanted him to hand you a pair of boxers and one of his sweaters still lingering with his cologne.
Once you reached the bathroom you stripped yourself of your uncomfortable party attire and turned on the hot water. You stood under the sweltering stream and welcomed the burn, letting all the rage you felt for Steve bubble up and swarm your head for the entire duration of your shower.
When you finished you hastily pulled on your clothes, your skin was now scorched and your anger hot and irrational. You stormed towards his room and swung the door open with not so much as a knock. There he sat in the dark, only the moon providing any illumination. His body stretched across his bed on top of the covers, head tilted to the ceiling with nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants resting lowly on his hips.
“I hope you know,” you started, startling him with a finger pointed lethally in his direction. “I’m not going to go around thinking you’re some great guy just because you took pity and helped me tonight.”
Steve could only flick his eyes in your direction briefly, too emotionally exhausted from the night to even sit up. “That’s not why I did it.”
“Oh, of course not.” your voice dripped with sarcasm.”King Steve is just such a gentleman he couldn’t have it any other way. Don’t act like tonight was motivated by anything other than guilt.”
“Do you actually believe that?”
“You brought that beautiful girl and you just carried on with her like I wasn’t even there. Then when it broke me you just had to come along and pick up the pieces.”
“I’m tired.” he muttered, your name following the statement almost inaudibly. He was tired of fighting with you, tired of seeing the way your eyes burnt into him no longer with lust but something even stronger, hurt.
“You don’t think I’m tired? You don’t think I wouldn’t give anything to close my eyes and not see her hands all over you?”
“Fine, I regret it. I should’ve thrown away her number the second she gave it to me. I should’ve never brought her to the party. Is that what you want to hear?
“No!” you cried. “It’s you who shouldn’t have come to the party and you shouldn’t have come back after you left. You could’ve just let me have this one night, I needed it.”
“I don’t regret that. I had to go to the party, you know that.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with me.”
His eyes softened, “It has everything to do with you.”
Suddenly you saw the events of the night under a completely different lens.
- - -
Then Steve saw you, your cheek mushed against the blonde douche’s shoulder, bottom lip wobbling as you suffocated in the unexpected eye contact.
Donna leaned in and whispered something in his ear that made his jaw clench and he shooed her back gently with the wave of his hand.
“Sorry, bud.” he said, eyes unmoving from yours. “Not interested.”
“Looks like she moved on after all.” Donna had purred in his ear.
He looked at you cozied up to someone new and saw nothing but red. He had to get out of there fast.
“Why would I do that? No, I’m- I’m here with Robin, she’s-”
“She’s passed out downstairs,” he interrupted. “You need to go home.”
He searched the party desperately, only able to catch his breath when he saw Robin laid across the couch, mouth hung open, Nancy and Jonathan not far by. He forced through the crowd till he reached her and felt his heart rate skyrocket when you were nowhere to be seen. He shook her shoulder till she roused enough to open her eyes a sliver.
“Where is she?” he asked, voice urgent. “Where, Robin? Is she okay?”
Robin grumbled and rolled over but not before muttering two words, “Sick. Upstairs.”
“So, why’d you come back?” you asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Y’know after you dropped her off.”
“I said I’d help clean after.” he lied, swallowing the truth with a forced gulp.
“And now you’re driving me home.”
He had never once stayed after a party to clean, not even for his closest friends, and certainly not for some former football player he had interacted with maybe 4 times in his life who still found spitballs to be the height of comedy at the ripe age of 21.
- - -
“You were looking for me.” you realized.
Steve met your eyes and exhaled heavily, “Aren’t I always?”
You held eye contact and despite the dimness of the room he could see your chest heaving up and down with troubled breaths. You turned to leave and Steve fell back against his pillows, scrubbing his hand roughly against his face.
Just as you were about to cross the threshold into the hallway you spun on your heel and faced him again.
“Steve, I-I’m sorry okay? I don’t know why I can’t be civil with you. I feel like my whole life has been flipped upside down over the past few weeks. And I know I can’t blame you for falling out of love with me… I just can’t- I’m not ready to see you fully over us-” your voice cracked painfully in the back of your throat.
“Baby…” he sighed sadly, sitting up in his bed.
You felt tears spring to your eyes, bringing your hands to your face and then dropping them shakily. “I’m sorry.”
He looked at you sorrowfully as your body finally gave out, succumbing to the tears. Before you could stop yourself your legs carried you towards his bed, falling forward on top of him and wrapping yourself around his body.
“Please- I just, I need to-”
You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence but Steve always had a knack for reading your mind and he knew exactly what you meant. You needed to feel him, to hold him again, breathe in his scent, run your fingertips over his skin. He knew because the feeling was all too familiar, he felt it before he shut his eyes every night, before the sun rose through his curtains in the morning, and every moment in between.
Wordlessly he closed his arms around you and your nose pressed into his bare collarbone. His hands traveled up, threading into your hair, cradling your head against him.
“Breathe,” he cooed. With his chin tucked into your neck you could feel the wet lick of his lips when he spoke.
“I’m not fully over us,” he admitted. “Not even close.” He laughed, humorlessly, nudging his nose under your ear, “You’re honestly doing my head in.”
You let your eyes fall shut, wanting to take in every bit of this moment, unsure if you would ever experience anything like it again.
“I really miss you.” you whispered into the diminutive space between you.
A pained noise slipped out from Steve at your confession. He wished you could see the bigger picture he had sketched up in his mind, how in a few years he would be a blip in your memory, a single dim star amongst the blinding constellation of your future accomplishments.
Steve may have been considered slightly ditzy around town but he had never been stupid, he knew you were too good for him, he always knew. From that very first kiss in his BMW four years ago when the two of you were only 16 he knew that the way you felt for him would be temporary. The admiration in your eyes would fade and the curtain would fall. He wasn’t King Steve like he had been in high school, he was just Steve, plain unpromising Steve.
You had always been gifted, you were going places, you had aspirations. The only aspirations Steve could ever remember having were in regards to you, taking care of you, loving you, putting a ring on your finger, making you his wife, and eventually building a family with you. A loving happy family, nothing like the kind he had grown up with.
He wanted the best for you, and as much as it fucking devastated him he wasn’t sure that meant him anymore.
But his resolve was growing thinner, wearing down with each exhale that passed your lips to tickle his skin.
“I miss you too, honey. So much.”
“But, Donna-”
“Isn’t looking for anything serious.” he finished for you. “She’s good company but she's not you. No one is.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I can’t explain it.”
“Why not?” you pleaded against him.
“It’s better this way. I promise, it will be.”
You nuzzled further into him, “How?” Your lips ghosted his clavicles and he trembled. “How could it be better than this?”
His leg slotted between your thighs, pressing you into him. You jumped at the feeling, a symphonic sigh exiting you against your will.
“Shit- sorry.”
You panted and shook your head. “No, don’t be. It’s good.”
He readjusted in an attempt to put some space between you, feeling himself getting sucked into your hazy arousal rapidly. You felt the familiar outline of his excitement against the side of your legs and he hissed.
“This would be real fuckin’ selfish of me.” he struggled to say while you chased his lips, yours already pouted in anticipation. He caught your face and held it in place in front of his own, searching for any lingering signs of intoxication, “You’ll never forgive me tomorrow.”
“I’m fine,” you said honestly. The shower and time passed had sobered you up fine.
“Doesn’t matter. You’ll hate me for leading you on.”
“Are you?”
Steve pondered your question and tried not to let his face show how unsure he was of the answer. Could he really stay away from you? Would either of you ever be able to fully move on from your paramount love?
You read him like a book and grazed his chest with the tips of your fingers, bringing him back to you.
“Even if you are, I couldn’t hate you.”
He swiped his thumb across your eyebrow and watched your eyelids flutter in response. “I hate myself for hurting you.”
You leaned forward until your noses bumped and spoke into his mouth, “Then make up for it.”
Finally, Steve closed the space between you with a hungry kiss. His lips were warm and chapped against yours, his teeth scraping against the suppleness of your bottom one to pull your mouth open and allow him to show you just how sorry he was.
For the first time in weeks you felt your lungs fill with no resistance and strain against your ribcage with a welcome sort of discomfort, like an overfilled balloon you were seconds away from popping and Steve knew it.
His hips rutted against yours and one of his hands slowly traveled down from the velvet of your cheek to palm roughly at your breast. The feeling made your breath catch in your throat, coaxing a high pitched squeak out of you and Steve smiled against your lips, his teeth knocking yours.
“Feels good?” he asked.
“Mhm.” you hummed as he turned his attention to your neck, nipping and kissing the dewy surface. “Always does. You always do.”
His responsive whimper is slightly muffled by your skin but you bathe in it.
“You too.” he reciprocated. “I won’t last long if you keep talking like that, you’ll knock my fucking lights out.”
“Sorry,” you said sweetly, leaving him bewildered at how you could be so sensual and so adorable at the same time.
You sat up, straddling him. Your hands traveled south to breach the barrier of his waistband and wrap your hand around him.
He sucked in a pained breath and tugged the shirt barring his view over your head. “M’hurtin, honey. Lemme feel you.” he pleaded.
You pulled the shorts you wore down your legs leaving you bare and Steve took in the sight as if for the first time.
His hands caressed your stomach, sliding downwards until they rested firmly on your hips which twitched in anticipation.
“Somehow I forgot how perfect you are.” he revealed, his words drenched in sincerity. “No one is this perfect,” he pinched your heated skin once and you whined. “You’re a fucking novelty.”
You stared down at him and wondered if he had ever really looked at himself in the mirror. You scraped your nails lightly down his chest, “You are.”
He coughed and denied it with the shake of his head, bringing one of your hands to his lips for a loving kiss. “I’m nothing compared to you, baby.”
Desperate to get on with it you raised yourself above him hovering whilst lining him up to you. Steve watched your face as you nudged his tip against your clit, your eyebrows pulled together and mouth falling into a gaping “O” shape.
You shimmied forward a little bit and slowly started to sink onto him, pausing as soon as the tip was in. You winced at the stretch and were reminded that it had been a while since you had taken him at all, let alone like this.
“You okay?” he asked, holding you firmly in place to be sure you didn’t slip any further before you were ready.
You nodded, but stayed still. “Hurts a lil s’all.”
Steve kicked himself when he realized he had done nothing to get you ready for him. “I’m sorry, honey. I should’ve prepped you a bit. Hop off a sec.”
“No,” you protested, letting yourself drop another inch or so. “I didn’t want you to. I jus’ want you inside.” you whined as you sunk all the way down, ignoring the burn in your stomach.
Steve cursed to the ceiling as you fluttered around him and he forced himself not to lift his hips and grind even further into you.
He clenched his teeth as he spoke, “Is it painful?”
“It’s perfect.” you answered in more of a sigh than anything else.
“Yeah?” he said, reaching forward to circle your clit with the gentle movement of his thumb.
When you moaned and rolled your hips forward he praised you in a rambled jumble of words.
“Fuck. Holy fuck, baby. You're so good, so so good for me. Shit. Warm and fucking tight. God, am I making you feel good? C’mon talk to me, lemme hear that pretty voice.”
You nodded, brain fading into a lust filled frenzy. “Feels unreal, Stevie.”
You tried to raise yourself with shaky legs but he stopped you with a firm grasp.
“Wha-”
“You think I’m gonna let you do any of the work tonight? It’s not happening, baby. I’m making it up to you, remember? Lemme make you feel good, hm?”
He lifted you with hardly any effort and then pulled you down again, the drag of him against your walls pulling a series of sweet moans from you.
Repeatedly, he bounced you against him, encouraging you with candied praises every time your face pinched in pleasure or you clenched around him, dizzying his head.
After a few blissful moments you felt a wave of pleasure rush to you like the tide to a shore and you panted out a warning.
“Stevie- I’m gonna,”
“You gonna cum for me, honey? C’mon give it to me. I’m right there with you, sweet girl.”
You shook and cried out as your release drowned you, sweeping Steve into the current right alongside you.
You collapsed forward in exhaustion and he held you against his sweat slick body, peppering gentle kisses across your forehead.
“You here w’me?” he whispered.
“Yes.” you replied, voice light. You pulled yourself off of him and tried not to think about the loss, tried not to think about what would happen now.
Rolling over next to him you shivered at the cold air on your bare skin and he wordlessly tucked you under his arm and rubbed his hands up and down on your arm, sparking a friction fueled warmth.
He watched you carefully unable to decipher the thoughts behind your head for what seemed like the first time ever.
“What’re you thinking about?”
You swallowed and tilted your head up to look at him. “What happens next.” you admitted.
He nodded in understanding. “What do you want to happen?”
“Steve.” you chided. “You know what I want.”
“Honey…”
“Do you love me?”
“Of course I do.” he said shocked.
“Then what’s exactly the issue with us being together?”
“It’s complicated. It’s not about me not loving you or not wanting to be with you.”
“Then what is it?” you demanded, sitting up and pulling your previously discarded shirt over your head.
He ran his hands through his sweat damp hair in exasperation. “We don’t make sense anymore,” he admitted.
You bit your lip to hide your hurt and spoke timidly, “Why not?”
“Our lives are gonna go down really different paths and I don’t want to be the douchebag high school sweetheart that holds you back from everything you’re capable of. I’m gonna end up here, working some mundane job, having a few kids and accomplishing nothing special. And that’s fine, I’m content with that but that’s not you.
You frowned at him.
“You’re meant for something bigger. Everyone knows it. I won’t give you some simple life when you deserve a grand one.”
You felt white hot anger seeping through your skin and pushed yourself off the bed bitterly. Without saying a word in response you started searching the room for your shorts, feet stomping with every step.
“What are you doing?” he asked, anxiety clear in his voice.
“I’m leaving.” you said.
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“I don’t care.” you hissed. “You really think you’re helping me by making decisions for me? Do I not get any say in what I want?”
“Of course you do, that’s what this is about. One day you’re gonna want more than I can offer you. I'm just trying to make it easier for you.”
“Wow,” you breathed. “You really have no idea what I want then.”
“So tell me.”
“Steve.” you said, shimmying your shorts back up your legs. “I want you. No ifs ands or buts. Have I not made that crystal clear the entire time we’ve been together?”
“You have but-”
“No, I’m not done. You’re right, I don’t want a simple life. I want to settle down here, in the town we fell in love. I want to marry you and have kids with you. I want to make dinner with you every night and after we eat I want to wash the dishes while you dry. I want to take your clothes out of the dryer and fold them while they’re still warm. I want to kiss you every night before I go to bed and roll over next to you every morning. I want us. A life where we end up together couldn’t be simple because it’s us together, and I love you so much more than any other possible outcome.”
He stared at you bewildered. “You do?”
“Yes! I’ve been in absolute hell these last few weeks over this?”
You approached him and took his hands in yours.
“Look,” you sighed. “I’m so sorry that people in your life have made you believe that you aren’t the talented, smart, capable and loving man that I know you are but none of them matter when it comes to our relationship. That’s just us, me and you. And I know,” you pressed a hand to your heart. “There’s no one in the world who could give me a better life, or love me better than you. I love you, Steve.”
He looked up at you, half sorrowfully half hopefully, “Does this mean we’re back together?”
“Do you want to be?”
“Of course I do. I’ve been miserable without you.” he replied.
“And who’s fault is that?” you laughed, the mood in the room beginning to mellow out into the typically comforting setting you were accustomed to when you were with Steve.
“I’m sorry I ended us and that I tried to make your choices for you.” he said. “I promise I won’t do it again. Oh, and I love you, like more than anything else in the world and I’m fucking devastated that I made you think I didn’t.”
“I love you too.” you echoed, melting into his arms once again not planning on letting go anytime soon.
He pressed his nose into your hair and smiled, lopsided. “I’ve got a lot of making up to do, y’know.”
“Good thing you have the rest of our lives.”
He tugged you onto the bed making you break into a fit of giggles as he pressed sloppy kisses over your entire face.
“I think I’ll start right now.”
#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington angst#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington blurb#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things x reader#stranger things smut
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I demand your take on ABO 141 with a male reader PLEASE, there's never any good male stuff
Bestie do NOT give me this kind of brainrot, but also I accept the gift graciously-
Also, I had no idea what you wanted the male reader to be so there's a bit of everything so everyone's happy :) They come off a little oc-ish to me, the way I did the reader but oh well, I like it.
Forgive me for anything I got wrong, I'm not an A/B/O master guys. This was way longer than I initially planned, lol. Enjoy!
Omegaverse!141 x Male reader!!!
I'm not the most bright brained alright, I agree with literally everyone else and I think Price and Ghost would both be Alphas with Gaz and Soap being betas, it just makes sense in my mind. The two Alphas need the cool-headed inbetweens to keep them from toppling everything and/or butting heads from too much hormones going around.
They're all fairly skeptical about yet another person joining them for any given reason, four people is plenty and having yet another person in the fray, while it might be helpful sometimes, is a bit of a balancing act to fit into their already perfect schedule. Changing things to accommodate you, while not the worst thing, isn't the most easy feat for everyone. Especially depending on what you are...
☄. *.
You were an Alpha, purebred, built like a brick wall and about as stubborn as one too. Although you weren't loud about it, you weren't going to let people forget tat you were not to be messed with. Raised with a bit of an ego as most purebred Alphas were, you knew you were destined for greatness from the moment you presented. Started physical and mental training as soon as you were old enough, the goal had always been the military for you, no doubts about it. But you had never imagined, in all your wildest dreams, that you would be a part of the task force.
Most people, upon first glance, would likely assume you fit right in, but shoehorning you in with two other alphas was way harder than anticipated, seeing as you immediately began trying to prove yourself before you had gotten settled in. Which, would have been adorable if you weren't so damn stubborn about it.
Ghost is working out? You join him without a second thought, attempting to lift twice as much as what he's doing. Of course, his numbers were already nothing to scoff at, so all you truly succeeded in, was nearly dropping the weight on your foot and damaging your precious alpha pride. "You alright there tough guy?" Ghost seemed amused by your ambitious failure.
"Shut up." Was all you growled in retaliation, storming off to go sulk elsewhere.
Soap is practicing at the range with Gaz? You grab a pistol and try to show off just how capable you are with it, easy right? Not really. You fumble in a way you weren't even sure you understood, and to put it simply, you missed the target significantly and blew an entire round trying to make amends. By the time you had finished it, the sergeants were trying not to lose their composure and die laughing at your cockiness despite it all. Damnit, you could normally do this all so easy, what the hell was wrong!? You set down the weapon with a nearly frightening calmness despite the seething rage in your chest that demanded respect as an alpha. Your self-righteous upbringing had done you no good now as you stormed off to go beat the shit out of the next inanimate object that pissed you off.
"How exactly did he make it here?" "Eh, cap says he's good. Let 'im cool off, I'm sure he knows what he's doin."
There was no cooling off, of course, as you ended up nearly punching a hole in the wall as you had graciously slammed into the doorway in your blind rage, smacking yourself square in the nose and nearly toppling over in pain. That was, quite honestly, the last straw for your dignity as you snarled something ferocious. Not caring that it had been rather close to the Captain's office until you were unceremoniously yanked back by your scruff, held face-to-face with the unamused John Price. Although you were an alpha, even you couldn't quite deny the effect his scent had on you now. Not one of anger, but certainly not a playful one either. He was projecting his authority, silently telling you to quiet down a little and stop being such a loudmouth showoff. Shame and something akin to an excited fear sparked briefly in the pit of your stomach before you cleared your throat and swallowed hard.
"Captain." You nodded shortly, not missing the way his hand tightened around the back of your neck.
"Heard you've been causing a bit of a ruckus for the others, been busy?" He raised a thick brow, making you swallow back your nerves. You attempted to shoot back some of your own alpha scent, but it felt puny and overpowered entirely by his.
"Not intentionally, sir."
"Let's settle down a little, you've barely been here a week, quit causing trouble or I'll have to take care of your behavior myself. Got it?" He leans close, you could swear he was breathing on the back of your neck now and you know for a fact your heart is racing for reasons you don't think are fear.
Not wanting to find out what he means by that just yet, you give a quick nod that seems to satisfy him enough to let you go. Allowing you to scamper back to your room, the adrenaline cushioning what was going to be a very hurt ego when it settled in that you had been grabbed by the collar and scolded like a child. Damnit, you would prove yourself one way or another...
☄. *.
You were a Beta, always being told you were unremarkable, nearly always forgotten in the squabble between Alphas and Omegas. So, in an effort to at least be something impressive to yourself, you took to bulking up. Genetics and luck both seemed to favor you as you certainly bulked up. To the point where you were constantly mistaken for an Alpha by anyone that didn't truly know you. If they did, they would know that you were far more of the beta disposition in reality. Laid back, cheerful, extroverted enough to make friends, but not gratingly so. The perfect addition to the task force at first glance...
Minus the fact that you were both clumsy, and a little bit ditsy from time to time.
Sure, you weren't incapable, you could definitely hold your own in battle. But it seemed that when the adrenaline wasn't pumping through your veins, you were a tangle of long limbs and jumbled thoughts. It was obvious that you weren't trying to be a mess, but the others seemed to assume you were up to something. Surely, a mountain of a man like you, such a capable Beta on the battlefield, can't be such a... dolt in real life, right?
The same man they had witnessed absolutely nail a small squadron all by his lonesome, had momentarily forgotten how to lace his boots after unlacing them entirely to replace them. And had practically tied his feet together.
"You think he knows he's doin' it wrong?" "Oh he has to by now... right?" "Guys, did I get it? I'm so confused, why is this so weird!?"
Not to say you were entirely unaware of yourself, you knew you were scatterbrained at times. But you didn't know that they had assumed you were taking them for a fool sometimes. The sergeants decided to confront you about it, with Soap cornering you after a particularly amusing incident.
"Mate, ye know we've seen ye on the field right?" He sighed, running his fingers through his overgrown curls. "uhh, yeah?" You kind of stared between the two of them, completely confused as to where the conversation was going. Gaz snuck behind you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder in a friendly manner. "Right, so you don't have to act like a total numpty off the field, you aren't foolin' anyone anymore." He chuckled, nudging your head with his playfully. It would have been a comforting thing, except for the fact that you had no clue what they were on about. "What do you mean?" "Stop acting like such a hare-brained dingus. Just be yourself, mate." He shook your shoulders gently, the two staring at you so earnestly, just trying to convince you to just be yourself around them. "Oh... About that..."
Of course after that, they both felt really bad and you had to explain for over an hour that no, it wasn't on purpose, yes, you were that messy sometimes, and no, you weren't mad for their assumption. Although Ghost certainly seemed to find it hilarious that you were such a gentle giant, and a total hot mess express. Not that he told you that, truth be told, he didn't feel the need to talk to you much off of the field. Not because he didn't like you, he simply felt you fit in so well with the betas and he didn't want to throw off things. Although he did want to know how you had gotten so huge naturally.
Price thinks you're downright precious with the stark contrast between on and off duty with you. It's like you become a completely different person and he can't help but smell the scent of a content beta every time he tells you that you've done him good. He was certain that everyone could tell just how excited you were when he referred to you as "his good lad". It was a simple nickname, rolled off his tongue before he could stop it, but you nearly lit up in elation. So now not only him, but everyone else makes an attempt to give you subtle little praises like that just to see you get all giddy, and to this date you have yet to notice, or at least say anything about it.
☄. *.
You were an omega, not what any of them expected when they were told that someone would be joining them, as omega were notoriously... well... Violence avoidant to put it simply. But you were not the type that wanted to feed into stereotypes. You wanted any excuse to not become some boring old stay-at-home omega that took care of children and housework. The parts of the world you had grown up in were very traditional and expected just that of you. "Settle down with a nice Alpha, have babies, live the peaceful life." Yeah right, it was like they didn't even know what you wanted.
So, in an effort to escape that life, you decided to enlist, and it turned out that you were... actually kinda good at it despite it all. Your fight or flight chose to flee more often than not, but that meant you were quick on your feet despite the stomach churning levels of anxiety that pulsed through your veins at any given moment. Your adrenaline raced and kept you moving before you could chicken out, and that made you a damn good soldier.
Off field was a different story but that didn't really matter seeing as you liked minding your own business and having your own space more often than not.
When you first met all of them, the aura of two alphas was quite a lot, especially as it seemed at least Ghost was projecting a little bit more than he needed to, getting across the point that there was an order to the way things were and you needed to not ruin that. (He's just nervous having an omega around as he isn't used to it and he isn't sure exactly how to act around you.)
Gaz is rather quick to step in and soothe you with his beta scent, like warm coffee and vanilla and something distinct that you hadn't ever smelled before. But it soothed your racing nerves and made you feel a little less alienated. Although with a nudge from John, Ghost realized he was only successfully scaring you, and he cut it out just as quickly.
Johnny is excited to have an omega around, although he doesn't really treat you any different than Gaz. It's the equivalent of short people acting different when they're around someone shorter than them, yknow? Like he doesn't see you as beneath him, he just knows you're different than anything he's been around and he's nosey about absolutely everything.
"Do all Alphas scare you?" "No... why would they?" "I dunno, it seemed like every omega I met before was either addicted to Alphas or terrified of em." "Uh, no, I think you just knew weird people before."
Another thing, is that Price seems to view you as a sort of stray cat. Skittish if anyone approached you a little too loudly or excitedly, but plenty sweet if they got to know you. At least, that was how it was in his head. In reality, you were just an introverted guy who wanted to at least get along with his teammates and they thought you were the cutest thing ever. Sometimes, John would call you into his office just to tell you that he noticed your hard work and he was proud of you. He loved the way your cheeks flushed whenever he got close or projected his scent a little extra, filling the room with the scent of expensive cigars and warm, woody cologne. It made you a little fuzzy int eh head and he could tell, so he avoided using it. But the face you made when you got all spacey and distracted during meetings because you were sandwiched between him and Ghost, it was just too good to resist.
"You alright there sergeant?" "Yes sir, all-all good." "You look a little flushed, you sure you're not coming down with something?" He pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, trying not to smile wider when your eyes widened just slightly. "Positive, Captain..." You squeaked.
#cod x reader#cod mw2#call of duty#gaz cod#john price#captain john price#captain price#kyle gaz garrick#johnny soap mctavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish#Omegaverse#cod omegaverse#omega reader#alpha reader#beta reader#fanfic writing
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Okay but I like to think that Jason's helmet has like noise and brightness controls so he can focus when things get bad.
If you ever have a sensory overload day when he's near, and everything is just too bright, too loud, too much, he'll gently plunk his helmet on your head, turned down to block out almost everything but still leave you aware enough of your surroundings to know he's there.
The quiet helps, your eyes don't hurt as much. And you feel safe knowing he's protecting you.
❄️
ANON THIS IS FUCKING EVERYTHING
this may be a little too self-indulgent but, fuck it, I needed this
It started when you fell asleep last night, not meaning to, so you had to take a shower in the morning. Then you had to wear the pair of stiff jeans because you had fallen asleep before you washed clothes. Then the seams of your shirt became incredibly bothersome and ever-present. All of this is to say: you were destined for failure today.
The Wayne family had agreed on a public outing to go eat and keep up appearances. Afterwards, everyone would head back to the manor to either get ready for patrol or just hang out. The entire family was invited and so were the significant others, hence you. It's not something you could cancel and Jason was so happy to ask you to go. You were determined to tough it out. For him.
You sat down at the table and your chair was uneven and wobbly. Ok. Ignore it. Move on. The lights were almost painfully bright. You tried not to think about it. The music was on loop but there was a small static gap when it looped and the song itself wasn't long, so the static was every minute. Ignore it. You were seated with your back to the door so you couldn't see when or where noises were coming from. Ignore it. There was a baby crying somewhere around the back of the restaurant. Ignor-
Someone taps you and your shoulders raise. Jason retreats his hand back immediately.
"Are you ok?" You can see the worry and calculation in his eyes.
"I'm okay." Your words sound grating to your own ears.
He doesn’t look like he buys it. "Do you want me to order for you?"
You nod your head and he has you point to what you want on the menu.
You hold polite small talk with the entire family and try to avoid touching the napkin that's texture felt like sandpaper. You can do this.
You ignore the shuttering of paparazzi photos from the window and the constant buzz of screaming from outside.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. You can do this.
The waiter comes back and hands out the food. Yours is very clearly burnt.
But Bruce is paying for the food and it would be rude not to eat it, right? Yeah that's something that your mother told you.
You put it in your mouth and do your best not to gag at the texture. Jason narrows his eyes at you. Fuck, he's onto you. You smile and put your all into not gagging until he turns back to look at Dick, who is telling a story.
Nailed it.
Eventually. Finally. You get to leave the restaurant.
But it's already too late for you. You can hear cars wizzing by, horns, tires screeching, engines revving, people yelling, and all other sounds of Gotham traffic. You're thankful Jason drove his car today and not his motorcycle ir you think you would have died. Steph and Duke are engrossed in their own conversation in the backseat after they refused to ride back with Bruce after he disagreed with their opinions in some fight you didn’t get the full picture of. Jason eyes you warily, but doesn’t say a word.
It's barely 5 minutes before you're at the manor. You're sitting on the couch, back straight and legs together. Alfred likes the living room to be bright, so all the lights are on. Great for Alfred. Terrible for you. You swear there must be 50 people in this fucking family because you can hear each and every one of their voices.
The sounds are grating, the lights are too bright, Cass and Tim are tossing their gear at each other over the couch and over you head, the dogs are barking, someone is yelling, Dick squeezes your shoulder as he walks past (with good intentions), you can't fucking think-
Jason's helmet is slipped over your head. He's done it before, just not often, so you forgot it even had the function.
Everything is made dark. The noise, instead of sounding like its coming rom inside your skull, sounds low and distant. Cass catches her last piece of armor from Tim and moves presumably to go down to the cave.
It's like a sensory deprivation tank and you think you might just cry of relief.
You see Jason crouch in front of you. His voice, though quieter than it usually would be, is still clear.
"Better?"
You wordlessly nod your head. In doing so, you notice that everyone else is gone. When did that happen?
"Why didn’t you tell me?" You start getting nervous. You just knew how excited he was and didn’t want to ruin it for him. And you know he still would have wanted you to tell him, but you felt terrible. You anxiously raise your shoulders into a nervous shrug.
He sighs. "I shouldn't have asked. Questions only make it worse, huh?"
You nervously nod your head. He laughs.
"'M sorry, baby."
You shake your head no before he can continue that train of thought.
"You wanna go put on one of my big comfy shirts and we can put you in my bed?"
You nod again. That sounds like fucking heaven.
He holds out his hand and you take it.
#saph’s love letters#jason todd#jason todd x reader#saph’s thots#red hood#red hood x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd x you#❄️ anon#Jason todd fluff#jason todd angst#red hood imagine#red hood x you#jason todd x reader fluff#red hood x reader fluff#red hood fluff#fluff#angst#hurt/comfort#fun fact: you're put facing the restaurants wall bc the bats have to face the entrance bc of bat paranoia and training
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GOLD RUSH
Characters: Kaz Brekker / Reader
Prompts: What happens when two people are destined to be apart? Inspired by Phoebe Bridgers' song "Motion Sickness".
Warnings: Angst; The other woman.
I am doomed to failure, I thought, my hands shaking as I held a glass, trying to control my expression into one of contentment, even as my throat felt a lump forming.
Everyone around me was smiling, too happy to notice the one person who hadn't moved to congratulate the couple — the only one whose eyes felt heavy at the sight of their clasped hands.
It was too much. I took another deep breath, forcing a smile back onto my face. I just had to hold on for a few more minutes, and then I would have a great excuse to leave the room. But for now, Kaz's hands still rested on Inej's, his fingers caressing the back of her hand as if they had known each other for a long time — like that was common.
“Well, Jesper, you owe me seven kruges,” Wylan said, nudging Jesper beside him. “I always knew they would be together, and I told you they would marry someday.”
“Here! Can we at least spend this somewhere better? It’s on me!” Jesper announced, pushing Kaz, Inej, and Wylan toward the Slat's door, probably leading them to a tavern.
I took the opportunity to move back a little. If I walked slowly, no one would notice me wiping away the insistent tears gathering in my eyes. It was a good plan; it seemed efficient — at least until Nina turned to look at me, a crease appearing on her face.
I turned away quickly, pretending to be engrossed in the laughter and chatter of the people around me, but my heart raced as I felt Nina’s gaze pierce through me. She always had a way of seeing right into my soul, as if she could read the unspoken words that hung heavy in the air just by the beating of the heart. I didn’t want to explain. I didn’t want anyone to know just how much this hurt. I was ashamed of feeling this way.
“Hey,” she called, her voice soft but insistent, cutting through the noise like a knife. “Are you alright?”
I forced a smile, the corners of my mouth trembling slightly. “Of course! Just a little… tired from all the excitement.” I could hear the strain in my own voice, the way it wavered like a fragile string about to snap. I didn’t want to burden her with my sadness, not when everyone else seemed so blissfully unaware of the turmoil inside me.
Nina studied me for a moment, concern in her features. “You don’t have to pretend with me,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “If something’s wrong, you can tell me.”
But how could I explain? How could I put into words the weight of watching Kaz so effortlessly intertwining himself with Inej? The way his fingers glided over her hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world? It felt like a betrayal, a sharp knife twisting deeper into my chest with every shared laugh and glance between them.
But then, it wasn't really any betrayal. He was never mine in the first place; I just let myself be carried away by the feelings that I, alone, cultivated. If there was any pain, it was caused by my own blade.
“I just…” I hesitated, glancing back at the couple, my heart sinking further. Kaz looked radiant, a genuine smile lighting up his face, while Inej’s laughter rang out like music. They belonged together in a way I could never compete with.
The lump in my throat grew heavier, and I could feel the tears threatening to spill over. I focused on my glass instead, swirling the contents as if it could distract me from the ache inside. “I think I need some air,” I finally managed, voice barely above a whisper.
I looked around; we were still near the docks.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Nina asked, her brow furrowing in concern.
“No, really, I’ll be fine,” I insisted, hoping she wouldn’t press further. “Just a moment to breathe.”
With that, I slipped away, my heart pounding as I made my way toward an alcove. I needed to escape this suffocating atmosphere, the laughter that felt like a cruel taunt, reminding me of everything I would never have.
Once alone, the cool night air hit my face, refreshing yet stinging. I leaned against the wall, staring out into the darkness, the harbor lights twinkling like stars scattered across the horizon. I drew in a shaky breath, letting the chill wash over me, hoping it would quell this horrible feeling.
But even here, the ache wouldn’t fade. I couldn’t shake the image of Kaz and Inej, the way they fit together seamlessly, like pieces of a puzzle I would never belong to. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the tears to stay away, but it was a losing battle.
Just then, I heard Nina’s voice calling out as she followed me into the alcove. “Hey, wait!”
I turned to face her, the warmth of her concern washing over me, though I felt the heaviness still lodged in my chest.
“What’s going on?” she asked, stepping closer. “You don’t seem fine at all.”
“I just…” My voice faltered as I searched for words, but nothing felt adequate enough to express the turmoil inside me. “It’s hard to watch them together.”
Nina nodded, understanding flickering in her eyes. “I can see that. It’s okay to feel that way, you know. You’re human.”
“It’s just… they’re so happy,” I whispered, the weight of my emotions threatening to spill over. “I thought maybe I could be happy for him, too, but…”
“But it’s hard when you care about someone who seems so out of reach,” she finished gently, her empathy a balm against my pain.
I met her gaze, feeling the walls I had built around my heart start to crack. “Yeah. I didn’t expect to feel this way. I thought I was stronger than this.”
Nina stepped closer, a comforting presence. “You don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to feel sad or hurt. Let it out.”
“I don’t want to burden you,” I said, tears stinging my eyes.
“You’re not a burden,” she insisted, her voice steady. “You’re my friend, and I care about you. Please, don’t shut me out.”
I took a deep breath, the weight of her words settling over me.
“Okay,” I said softly, my resolve beginning to waver. “I just feel… lost. Watching Kaz with Inej feels like a reminder of everything I wanted but can’t have.”
Nina wrapped her arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. “I know it hurts, but it doesn’t take away from your worth. You deserve happiness too, in whatever form it takes.”
As I leaned into her embrace, the tears I had fought so hard to hold back finally spilled over, but instead of feeling shame, I felt relief.
But it still hurt, thinking about what could have been if I had ever told Kaz how I felt about him. The possibility hung heavy. I replayed countless moments in my mind — each memory felt like a knife, sharp and painful, cutting deeper into my heart, because they were all just my perspective, they were just me falling in love with him, it was never mutual.
What if I had mustered the courage to confess? Would he have felt the same way? Or would he have looked at me with pity, gently telling me he didn’t feel that way, shattering my heart? The thought of losing him was unbearable, and so I had stayed silent, choosing to bury my feelings deep where no one could see them.
As I leaned against the wall, Nina’s comforting presence beside me, I couldn’t help but think about the cost of my fear. It would have been so easy to share my heart with him, to let him know he meant more to me than just a friend. But the fear of ruining what we had kept my lips sealed. I had always valued our friendship more than the uncertainty of what could lie beyond it.
“Do you ever wonder what might have happened if you had told him?” Nina asked softly, breaking the silence that had settled between us.
I nodded, biting my lip to suppress the tears that threatened to spill again. “All the time. It’s like a constant ache in my chest. I think about it and wonder… if I could have been the one for him.”
Nina squeezed my shoulder gently, her gaze understanding. “It’s natural to wonder. But it’s also important to remember that our feelings don’t always dictate someone else’s. Kaz might have been surprised, but he could have reacted differently than you think.”
“Maybe,” I murmured, the thought lingering in my mind like a distant hope. “But I just… I couldn’t risk losing him. I couldn’t handle that kind of heartbreak.”
“I get that,” Nina replied. “But keeping it all inside can be just as painful."
I took a deep breath, considering her words. It was true; I had built a fortress around my heart, thinking it would protect me from pain. But in doing so, I had also kept out the possibility of something beautiful.
“Maybe I should have said something,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. Tears streaming down my face. “Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so lost.”
Nina smiled softly, her eyes shining with warmth and pity.
I glanced back toward the street, where Kaz and Inej were still laughing, lost in their own world. A pang of longing coursed through me, I would have to live with my choices.
“Thank you, Nina,” I said, my voice steadier now.
As I looked at them, memories washed over me like a warm wave, pulling me back to a night not too long ago.
It had been raining then, a heavy downpour that turned the streets of Ketterdam into glistening rivers. I had been sitting alone at a small table in a dimly lit tavern, nursing a drink and watching the rain dance against the window. I had felt so utterly lost, new in a different city, far from my family.
That was when Kaz had entered, soaked to the bone, shaking droplets off his coat like a stray dog. He had caught my eye immediately, and instead of joining the others, he had made his way over to me.
It was his way of hiring someone's services. It didn't take long for me to fall in love with him.
And now I had to live with it.
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Random things about your next lover .
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✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: ✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
This can be the long term relationship you'll have and can even be your future spouse. Just take it how it resonates.
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Customise your own reading
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: ✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Pile 1
Very hard working person. Might have two or more jobs. Might be balancing studies and job.
Is a perfectionist. Might be virgo rising.
You both will mirror each other.
They might like bunnies or have bunnies. Especially white ones.
You might meet them through friend or they can be friends with your friends.
Their mother has a great influence in their life. I'm Also getting that they love and respect their mother a lot.
They might overthink a lot. They thrive for knowledge. Might tell you a lot of random facts.
Their father might be a teacher or their father wasn't emotionally available.
They have the mind of child but don't show it to others. You both will heal each other.
Must protect this person at all costs. They are so precious.
They did a lot or sacrifices and compromises in their life and they want to enjoy life to the fullest but are afraid to. They have a lot of responsibilities.
They can easily cut people off and will do anything to win. They don't want be called a failure. In fact their major fear is failure.
You both might talk online for the first time. Or you can meet them while travelling.
They stand by what they say and won't back down from promises. A man of his words.
June 21st to 30 is significant date here.
They type to not have fun or not go to parties because they are protecting their peace.
Might have 2 best friends.
Their ear might stand our a lot. I'm seeing big or long ears. Or they can have their ear pierced.
Significant placement : Sagittarius rising, mutable signs, north node in 2nd house. Virgo moon in 10th house, Jupiter in 12 house. Capricorn in 12th . Earth placements.
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Pile 2
They might be the only male child in their family or the oldest sibling.
Their family sees them as a blessing and love them a lot.
They have a emotionally fulfilling family.
They have a charming personality and can sway you off. Cupid is in their favor all the time.
Your first meeting with them is going to be destined and nothing can stop you two from meeting.
They are very unpredictable and won't to able to catch what's going on inside their head.
They day dream alot and might zone out all the time.
Sometimes they feel like people have left them in cold and that people always leave them. So they have a hard time opening up to people.
They are a person who calculates their every step and always have plan B and C prepare in case something goes wrong.
They have a hypnotizing personality.
They like helping people a lot and they love language might be gifting.
They try to help everyone and people might take advantage of that.
They don't sleep deeply and even a fly can wale them up.
Okay this is funny so you know how moms wake up? Like when you wake up your mom she's frightened. That's exactly how they wake up.
They might have a pet that died and they miss him/her a lot.
They have a very creative mind and give them crayons and see what they can draw haha.
They have Golden Retriever energy for sure.
Sometimes they have a hard time accepting that they are wrong and might be a little immature.
Very passionate lover . absolute gentleman.
Significant placements : Sagittarius Mars, sun in Pisces or in 12th house. Sun in leo or 1st house, Jupiter in 7th house, Jupiter in Sagittarius. Prominent 12th house placements.
These can be your placements too.
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Pile 3
Okay so when I was channeling I got the message that this person might be your future spouse.
They are into spirituality and might be into witchcraft too. Can be practicing witchcraft or just interested.
This person never stops learning. They alwar find new things to do and might get bored with the same lifestyle. They might even change their jobs or have two or more jobs.
They don't like inequality and won't tolerate any kind of discrimination. They won't stand any injustice. And always speak out the truth.
If you're attracted to females then her aesthetic might be light feminine and if you're attracted to males them he might be a feminine male. Or likes wearir pink or pastel colors.
They argue alot and arecrryr sassy.
Sarcasm is their love language lol.
They have balanced masculine and feminine energy and are comfortable in expressing both.
You both will complete each other. You have what they lack and they have what you lack.
They stand by what they say . They are not the type to make fun of other's culture or their beliefs.
They are a child from inside and will make you feel like a kid again. If you have had not-so-happy childhood you will experience that things you missed as a child with them.
You guys give off fictional couples vibes. Like how expressive and lovely they are with each other.
They are very protective over you and won't let anyone with bad intentions be near you.
They might keep a lot of secrets at the talkir stage because they have sides that they won't show to people easily. Might be very mysterious the first time you meet them.
You guys can meet in school/college or any work setting.
They might seem serious but they are a yolo type.
Significant placements : sun in libra in 2nd house, sun in leo, 9th house placements, south node in 6th house, Uranus in Sagittarius, Neptune in 5th house, sun in 12 house. Capricorn rising.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: ✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
#tarot reading#tarot cards#free readings#free tarot#pick a card#pick a pile#tarotblr#pick a picture#pac tarot#tarot readings#pick a crystal#pac reading#tarot pac#tarot divination#divination#tarotwithavi#tarot witch#tarot community#tarot and astrology#tarot astrology#tarot project#tarot predictions#psychic readings#intuitive readings#tarot#tarotcommunity#tarotoftheday
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Those Green Eyes - Trevor Zegras
summary: When you feel torn apart after your breakup and find comfort in a green-eyed unknown hockey player
(part 1 of 2 -or 3-)
words: 2,1 K
Your life could come down to a tightrope.
Fresh from a journalism degree and with an entirely uncertain life ahead of you, without a home, without a job and with your family living in another state, you felt the need to have something stable. Anything.
And that's what Jake, your high school sweetheart, was to you. Until now.
You couldn't hold back the tears when he said right to your face that you'd become routine, you weren't fun anymore, and that he couldn't imagine spending the rest of his life with you, neither another minute.
You got into the first taxi that had the decency to stop for a disheveled and sobbing girl, asking him to move on to a destination you didn't even know. Getting out of town might be the best thing? But go where? You lived with Jake, meaning you didn't have a home of your own. Your parents were miles away, and you didn't want to look like a failure.
The taxi stopped because of the traffic jam and you looked to the side, facing a huge arena, and a line of cars leaving. Probably this was the only part of Anaheim that would get this busy this late.
“I'll be down, thanks” tired of waiting for the taxi to go and desperate for some space and air, you got out, running through the crowd to the parking lot.
A small bench under a street light was empty and you allowed yourself to cry there.
Jake had been your first everything, the only piece of stability you thought you needed, there for you at all times, and now he was gone, and you were alone. Once again.
Noise of breaking branches caught your attention, but you didn't bother to lift your face, continuing with your head down hugging your knees.
"Are you ok?" a gentle male voice sounded, moving a little closer, stepping in front of the street light.
You gave in to curiosity and lifted your head, bumping into a beautiful pair of green eyes, staring at you with concern.
“I'm fine” your voice came out as a whisper.
He analyzed you for a few more seconds, as if looking for visible injuries, if only he could see your broken heart.
“Well, despite your very convincing answer” he began “I think I'll stay here for a while” he sat down on the bench beside you, keeping a respectable distance.
“I don't need you to stay here.”
“Who said I'm here for you? This is the best place to see stars” he said pointing to the sky, which made you drop a small smile “is it a mini smile I see?”
You turned your face away from the green-eyed boy, pressing your lips together to contain your reluctant smile.
“I'm Trevor, by the way” out of the corner of your eye, you saw the outstretched hand.
With a sigh, you allowed yourself to look at the green-eyed boy, who had an amused smile "I'm Yn" he shook your hand gently.
"Pleased to meet you Yn" he went back to looking at the stars in silence.
After a few minutes, your desperate crying subsided, giving way to small sobs. Trevor remained silent, focused on the immensity of the night, watching you from the corner of his eye without you noticing.
A long sigh left your mouth and you looked up "this really is a great place to see the stars".
Trevor agreed with a smile "you know what's better than seeing stars?"
"What?"
"A hamburger"
You couldn't help but laugh and Trevor felt satisfied seeing that he made you laugh.
"Are you hungry? I know a great place!” he jumped off the bench, looking at you hopefully.
“I just met you Trevor, and you already expect me to get in the car with you?”
“Who said car? The arena has an exceptional burger joint. I swear"
“The arena is closed” you said as if it were obvious, and Trevor smirked.
"There are no doors that hold me, my dear."
*
Ignoring your fear of possible arrest for trespassing and theft, you followed Trevor in a brisk walk to the side door of the arena. As you approached, a large security guard looked at you, and when you were ready to turn around, Trevor spoke confidently.
“She's with me” and like magic, the security guard opened the door.
You kept following the green eyed boy starting to question who he was.
His hair was combed back just below his ear. He had a nice nose, and wore a leather jacket, walking casually with his hands in his pockets.
He led you all the way through the winding interior of the arena, for some reason running away from a few groups of fans that were still around.
“Tandam!” he opened his arms pointing to a small restaurant.
"It's closed??"
His smirk widened, and he continued walking toward the -closed- establishment.
A middle-aged woman was at the register, and her eyes sparkled at his approach.
“Trevor my little one, what are you doing here?? I thought you were gone hours ago!”
He shrugged, leaning against the counter “some unforeseen things happened, I know it's late but, could you make two more hamburgers? My friend is hungry"
He nodded at you, and the woman turned her large eyes to stare at you.
“Hi” you waved shyly, hugging your body without even realizing it.
“But of course!! Two hamburgers coming out. And it was nice meeting you sweetie” that last part was directed at you.
Hundreds of questions raced through your mind in a matter of priority, but you couldn't voice any before the food arrived. Trevor paid for both of them, picking up all the bags and heading in the opposite direction of the door.
"This way."
“But isn’t the exit over there?”
"I know, and that's why we're going this way."
You looked around "Trevor, the arena is about to close, we can't stay here."
The side smile appeared again “trust me, and follow me”.
After some corridors and stairs, he opened the door to a balcony, with privileged seats for ice, television, a pool table and various other things. Trevor grabbed some sodas from the freezer and sat down at the table, taking a desperate bite of his hamburger.
“Sorry, I'm starving. Sit down, Yn, this is great, you won't regret it!”
Your arms were crossed, still trying to understand why you were there and not behind bars for trespassing. Did he own the arena?
Trevor noticed your confusion and let out a small amused smile "You don't watch hockey do you?"
"What does it matter?"
“That's a no, right?”
You nodded impatiently and Trevor chuckled, taking a sip of his soda.
“I play here. I mean, on the hockey team here. This arena is like my second home.”
Your eyes popped out “are you a hockey player? Really?"
“Don't I look like a hockey player?” he had an offended look.
“Well, all the pictures of hockey players I can remember are giant, bald guys with missing teeth. You look like you have all your teeth.”
Trevor's laugh was loud, and he gave you a delighted "well, I guess I can't be offended that you think I'm too cute to play hockey."
Your cheeks flushed with a smile.
He pointed to the chair across from him and you sat down, feeling your stomach rumble as you opened the burger.
“Best burger in Anaheim yes or of course?”
You nodded, your mouth too full to speak, and he chuckled.
“So, Trevor” you had some soda “hockey player. Why did not you say it before?"
He shrugged “I'm a mystery guy” he leaned back in his chair having already finished his food, while you were halfway done.
“It would have avoided moments of apprehension. I was afraid of being arrested.”
“Why would you be arrested?”
“For invading the arena?” you said it like it was obvious and he laughed.
“I needed to know you weren't going to use me for my money and fame” it was your turn to laugh and he chuckled “hey!”
*
Having finished the hamburgers, you sat down on the chair in the cabin. Most of the stands were dark, but the ice lights alone lit up the entire place. You watched the zamboni clearing the ice, moving from corner to corner, sure of its work.
Your mind clouded and reality came back to you little by little. No home, no Jake, no future. A heavy sigh left your lips and you heard Trevor walk over, taking the chair next to you.
“When I was a kid I had a little dog” he started also staring at the ice “once I was walking him I accidentally released him from the leash. He fled into the middle of the forest and disappeared. I don't think I've ever cried so much. I looked for him day and night for three days until I found him. It's amazing. This story manages to combine one of the saddest moments of my life with one of the happiest.”
“Why are you telling me this?” you broke the silence, not taking your eyes off the green-eyed boy.
Trevor shrugged "I thought if I shared something personal about me, you'd feel free to share what made you so sad."
He stared back at you for milliseconds, but now it was your turn to stare at the ice.
“My boyfriend dumped me” you let out a sad sigh “I know it sounds silly but, I really thought he was the right guy you know? I already had it all planned out. I majored in journalism, him with his company. We would get married in the future, we would have a house, children... is it too much to want that? Jeez, we've been dating for so many years, and overnight he just says he's tired of me?”
Trevor watched you intently, compassion seeping through his body. He tentatively put his hand on your back, afraid to cross a line, but that was the kind of affection you wanted most at that moment.
So you hugged him.
Even a little surprised, Trevor held you tight, bringing you closer. You buried your head in his neck and he continued to gently rub your back.
You lost track of how many minutes passed. Trevor respected your time and all he did was hug you.
It was disconcerting to remember that you had almost just met him.
You pulled away a little, taking a deep breath wanting the crying to stop. Trevor still kept his hand on your back, and gently wiped away a small tear that was running down your cheek.
“I'm sorry for this. That has to be the last thing you would want to be doing on a day like today.”
“I admit that seeing you cry is really not a nice thing. But, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here” he looked at you intensely.
You take a deep breath.
“I think you need to relax,” he said suddenly.
"What?"
"Relax. What are you going to do this weekend?”
You laughed, remembering that you didn't even have a place to spend the night "my schedule of plans is being reworked at the moment".
“I'm going to Florida for All Star Weekend, want to come with me?”
“Oh sure” you laughed but something in his eyes said he was serious “are you serious?”
"Yes. I have a game there, some events, I promise to bring you back safe and sound in three days”.
"I... I can't..."
“What stops you?”
This question made you reflect.
What held you here? In Anaheim or anywhere?
Your plans had been crushed with a hammer, what prevented you from crossing the country with a nice -and very handsome- hockey player?
“I accept” the idea began to make sense.
"It is serious??" Trevor jumped up excitedly.
“Sounds like a cool plan” you said smiling.
“No, you're not going to make plans miss” he grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet “I make the plans, your only mission is to have fun”.
“Ok captain” you said with a genuine smile.
At those words, Trevor's hand on your back tightened. The urge to pull and kiss you was screaming in his head, but the other voice recognized how fragile you were, and he would feel like an asshole if he took advantage of that.
He took his hand from your back, scratching his head sheepishly.
This was not the right time.
But, who knows what such a trip might bring.
*
*
*
Part two comes out by the end of the week!
Thanks for reading!! :))
I would love to read your comments, suggestions, criticisms, or what you expect from this trip (you can send requests if you want)
#trevor zegras#trevor zegras fic#trevor zegras imagine#trevor zegras blurb#trevor zegras fanfic#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine#hockey imagine#hockey fic#hockey fanfiction#jack hughes#quinn hughes#luke hughes#matthew tkachuk
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Self-Destruct [One]
Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Reader, Sirius Black x Fem! Reader
Synopsis: Y/n Holstein tends to self-sabotage when something good happens, such as James Potter who came into her dark and dreary world like a ray of sunshine that she never knew she needed.
CW: Family pressure and hints of abuse by Walburga (3.1k words)
Note: The ending is cute guys don't worry! Welcome to the first chapter, enjoy!🫶🏻
The Burden of a Legacy
It was always like this.
You felt like your feet were planted to the ground; hearing your mother’s thundering voice inside your father’s study was the glue that kept you in your place as you stood outside the seemingly enormous dark oak door that separates you from them.
“Must I tell you again and again to be careful with your words, Ludwig?”
Callista thundered, her dark green dress swaying as she marched up in front of him.
Ludwig looked up from the documents he’s currently reading, his cold and emotionless gaze is a stark contrast to his wife’s fiery glare.
Taking a long drag from his cigarette, he replied, “You spoil her— coddling her too much. You give in to her every whim, which made her soft.”
You bit your lip, your stare almost burning a hole in the door. Feeling the all-too-familiar prickling sensation in your eyes, you tried to hold it in. After all you’ve done to prove yourself— to please him, it still wasn’t enough?
“She is just a child!” Callista scoffed, “Are you hearing yourself? That is your child-“she was interrupted by Ludwig.
“That is precisely why I do this for her, my love. It’s for her own good.” his eyes turned steely, “I am simply preparing her.”
“For what?! What is it that you must prepare her for just to excuse your behavior towards your own child?!” she yelled exasperatedly.
Ludwig paid no mind to his wife’s antics; he calmly sets his cigarette down the ash tray; the billowing smoke fills the air with a faint hint of tobacco.
“It may seem simple in your eyes, my love.” He starts, clearing his desk before clasping his hands together, “It is much more than her attending Hogwarts to have fun, make friends, or study— She’s already far off compared to her peers; Our child is gifted, destined for greatness.”
He nods to himself, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. “She is there to make connections— form new alliances.”
"She is just a child, yet you burden her with expectations that would weigh heavily on the shoulders of even the most seasoned wizard!" Callista cried out, her voice a mixture of despair and fury.
"You see her as an extension of us, an extension of the family legacy! Like she is a mere pawn in the chessboard of wizarding politics, but she is more than that, Ludwig. Y/n is more than just the heir of our house."
Ludwig stood, his height towering over Callista. “Yes, she is more, and that is why she must be strong. Our world is not kind to the weak, nor does it spare the naive. She must be ready to stand against the tides that would seek to sweep her away.”
Callista's eyes softened, "At what cost? Must our daughter grow up before her time, robbed of the joys that she should experience?" She saw how Ludwig falter, a rare glimpse of conflict was plastered on his face for a split second before turning impassive, yet again.
“The cost is high, indeed. But the cost of failure, of weakness, is far greater. She must not only survive; she must thrive. She must lead.”
The room fell silent, the tension hanging thick as the smoke from Ludwig’s cigarette. Callista knew her husband’s resolve was unyielding, but she also knew the love he has for their daughter. It was a love entangled in fear and hope, he wants their daughter to surpass him, to surpass everyone else.
In that silence, they both understood the burden that was placed upon their child, the only heir of their house. A burden of greatness, of expectations, and of a legacy that must be upheld. The path would be difficult, but it was the path they had chosen for her, and one day, she would have to walk it alone.
Dearest Sirius,
I hope this letter finds you well. I have already received my Hogwarts acceptance letter, I am assuming you also did, so congratulations. However, I still need to purchase a wand and other necessities, would you like to accompany me? Mother is also coming with us if you do wish to join.
I will be waiting for your reply.
Your friend,
Y/n Holstein
You set the parchment down and let it dry for a minute before folding it and have your family owl send it to 12 Grimmauld Place. Not long after, the owl came and was perched in your window, tapping the glass with its beak as a letter was tied to his foot.
“Oh, that’s quick…” You quickly untied the letter and gave the owl a treat and some pets before it flew away. Sitting at the foot of your bed, you ripped the wax seal open and read Sirius’ elegant handwriting— not that you would admit it, of course. His ego is higher than the Eiffel tower, it’s immeasurable.
My beautiful bride,
You are already aware how it is for me here, so why bother asking? Of course I would love to go with you! I have already informed mother and she surprisingly agreed, we will be there in the morning. Mother will accompany me through the Floo network to your manor. I cannot wait!
Your oh-so-loving future husband,
Sirius Orion Black
Your face scrunches in annoyance at the nickname; Sirius isn’t wrong though; you actually are betrothed to the Heir of the house of Black. Once both of you reach the mature age of seventeen, you are to be married to each other.
Carefully setting the letter down, you exited your room and searched for your mother in the vast gardens of your estate.
After a couple minutes of searching, you sighed. “Cinder?” Calling out, you heard a pop in front of you almost immediately.
“Young mistress?”
“Where is my mother, Cinder? I have to speak to her.”
“Mistress Holstein is in the gazebo.” Cinder replied, you hummed, “Alright. Thank you, Cinder.”
Just like that, the house elf nodded and disappeared with a pop.
You started to walk towards the gazebo, reaching it in under five minutes. As you neared, you noticed she wasn’t alone, she was conversing with Druella Black, Sirius’ aunt.
“My darling girl, care to join us for tea?” Your mother asks, greeting you with a smile. Smiling back, you replied, “It’s alright, mother. Good day, Mrs. Black.” Druella offered you a polite smile.
“Good day to you too, miss Holstein.”
Callista sets down her teacup down the table, placing her elegant perfectly in her lap as she raised an eyebrow at you, “Now now, it’s unlike you to join your poor mother for teatime. What seems to be the problem, my dear?”
You try to hide the blush on your face as you heard Druella chuckle quietly, “I just wanted to let you know that Sirius will come with us tomorrow.” Callista smiled, clapping her hands together. “That’s wonderful!”
“Going on a little date, perhaps?” Druella grinned, looking at you as she sipped her tea. Your cheeks turned a shade brighter, “We will shop for school requirements tomorrow, I don’t think dates will happen anytime soon.” Callista chuckled.
“You never know, they will be attending Hogwarts soon.”
“I’m sure that young Sirius is a refined gentleman, Walburga teaches her sons well.”
The air became heavy as Druella tried to hide her pursed lips, “Yes, she does.” she uttered before taking a long sip, which went unnoticed by your mother.
"Sirius." Walburga's voice thundered, going down the staircase with Regulus behind her.
Sirius' smile was wiped from his face as he stood up from the couch to greet his mother, his hair combed neatly to the side, and not a single speck of dust in his clothes.
"Mother." Sirius greeted, Walburga walked towards him with an unreadable expression before kneeling down his height and digging her fingers into his shoulders.
"You listen to me well, Sirius." She warned Sirius. He tried his absolute best not to whimper since he knows that the punishment will be worse. "If I ever heard you misbehave or do something that can tarnish the family name— you know what entails."
Regulus looked at his brother worriedly, twiddling his thumbs. He truly wanted to protect his brother, to stand between him and their mother but Sirius told him to not get in the way under any circumstances. Sirius cannot risk his brother being hurt by anyone— they need to get through him first.
Walburga didn’t wait for her son’s reply before practically pulling him beside her and flooing to the Holstein manor. Regulus looked, a small twinge of jealousy as they disappeared, wishing he could also escape this suffocating household for just a short while.
Callista chuckles, shaking her head lovingly as you practically looked at the fireplace of your manor every ten seconds.
“My my, is someone impatient?” She nears, making you widen your eyes and stiffen your body. Ah, caught red handed, weren’t you?
“I am simply just waiting for Lady Black and Sirius to arrive, mother.”
She gave you a knowing smile, “Hm is that so?”
“Yes, mother.” The blush on your face says otherwise, but your mother decided not to tease you any longer as the fireplace roared to reveal Walburga Black holding Sirius who looked excited.
You nearly jumped out of your seat, rushing over as Callista follows you behind, hiding a smile directed at you and Sirius as she greets Walburga.
“Lady Black, it is such a pleasure for you to allow Sirius to come with us.” You saw your mother offer a polite smile to the pale and beautiful woman in front of her.
“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Holstein. After all, our children will wed when they come of age, so it is ideal for him to spend time with his future wife.” Walburga hummed, turning to look at her child. “Isn’t that right, my darling?”
Sirius could only nod as his blush overtook his features, it took him a few seconds to actually utter out a response. “Yes, mother. Good morning, Lady Holstein.” He bowed in greeting, his stance is perfect, and his movements were fluid. He is one of the picture-perfect pureblood heirs in the wizarding world after all.
Callista smiles and greets him back, you took it as a sign to greet his mother too. “Good morning, Lady Black. Thank you for letting Sirius accompany me.” You curtsied.
Walburga hummed approvingly, observing you. “Good morning to you too, miss Holstein. Very well, I’m afraid I must go, Lady Holstein. My younger son, Regulus, might be looking for me.”
You didn’t miss the grimace Sirius did, Callista chuckled, oblivious to his reaction. “Ah, of course! I wouldn’t want to keep your child waiting.” Walburga smiles politely, shooting a discreet look in Sirius’ direction before walking towards the fireplace, the roaring flames engulfed her form and transport her back to their home.
“Look! Aren’t those the Holstein’s and Black’s heirs?” Someone gasped.
“Merlin, so it’s true then? They’ve arranged a marriage between those kids…”
“They’re powerful enough, why do they even need to marry each other?”
“You know how the Blacks are… and the Holsteins always wants the best.”
“Look how they’re holding hands! Quite rare to find young love in those pure bloods, eh?”
Whispers surrounded you as soon as you stepped foot into the streets of Diagon Alley. You can feel their eyes follow the three of you while walking beside your mother and Sirius. “Do not mind them, children.” Callista took yours and Sirius’ hands as you entered the first shop that marks the start of your shopping trip; Ollivanders.
The bell above the door of Ollivanders tinkles as you step inside. The air is thick with the scent of aged wood and magic. Your mother, sensing your nervousness, squeezed your hands in assurance.
The sound makes Mr. Ollivander stop and peer to the entrance of the shop as he was currently arranging boxes of wands. He widened his eyes in recognition and abandons his task at hand as he greets you and Sirius. “Ah, Ms. Holstein and Mr. Black! I must say, I’ve been waiting for you both.” He says, with a noticeable twinkle in his eyes.
You weren’t quite sure what to say, luckily, Callista conversed with the man. “Mr. Ollivander, lovely to see you.” She nods politely.
Ollivander quickly goes to his shelves full of wands and takes out two boxes, placing it on his desk and revealing two beautiful wands. He then gave a wand each for you and Sirius.
You gently held it in your hands, staring in wonder. The wand felt warm in your hand, seemingly tingling with magic that is waiting to be released by the right wizard. You bet Sirius’ expression’s the same as you heard him suck in a breath and admire the sleek fancy wand in his hand.
Ollivander grinned, “Well? Go on, give it a flick! You may go first, miss Holstein!” You bit your lip and flicked the wand pointing at the direction of a bookshelf. You watched it quiver, books falling down and opening, the books spewed out papers all over the place at a fast rate. It made you quickly place the wand at the table, and took a step back, near your mother and Sirius, cringing as you felt eyes on you.
Another mistake. Stupid girl, stupid Holstein.
“Oh my! Not the one apparently…” Ollivander murmured, flicking his wand to restore the bookshelf's original state. Sirius noticed your reaction and reached for your hand, squeezing it gently.
“No need to worry Miss Holstein! Happens all the time.” Ollivander shot you a kind smile before motioning Sirius to do the same. If you weren't so embarrassed, you would've let out a chuckle as Sirius sets the same bookshelf on fire. Merlin, the damn shelf must've been so traumatized already.
Ollivander hummed, flicking his wand as he willed the fire to disappear. "Hm, definitely not." He grabbed both wands and went to the back of his shop, mumbling to himself and picking out a few boxes for you and Sirius to try out.
After a few unsuccessful attempts from you and Sirius, (nearly blasted the windows of the shop and made one shelf collapse) you were finally presented with your wands— at least, what you'd like to think, you can't handle another embarrassing accident happening inside the shop. Just what will your father think?
"This might just be the one," Ollivander took out a wand from its box and placed it to your unsure and hesitant palms.
"Eleven inches, holly with a phoenix feather core. Quite a powerful one, if you ask me. Picky too, been sitting in my shop for a long time." He nods thoughtfully, mumbling as he studied you and the wand.
You gulped inaudibly, great— another chance for embarrassment.
Although, it wasn't like the previous wands you've tried. This feels... light? It also molds into your hand, as if it was exclusively made for you, strange.
You gave it a flick, expecting something to get destroyed, but you were pleasantly shocked as it illuminated a glow. Ollivander smiled in approval and Callista lets out a soft gasp.
"It seems that you were the witch the wand was waiting for all along." You felt immense pride as you admired the wand in all its beauty.
Sirius then tried his next, a sleek ebony wand. instead of it glowing, a sudden gust of wind out of nowhere suddenly danced around him, messing up some lf his wavy locks in the process.
"A match as well." Ollivander hums approvingly. Grinning, he takes the wands and proceeds to pack it.
"Fourteen galleons for the two wands." Ollivander smiled, Callista then proceeded to give the money before getting the wands and leaving the shop with you and Sirius in tow.
"Where to next, mother?" You asked, walking alongside her and trying to match her pace as you three navigated the bustling streets of Diagon Alley.
"Flourish and Blotts, my dears. You both have your lists, correct?" Callista asked as they neared the famous bookshop. Sirius replied, "I have them memorized, Lady Holstein."
Callista grins at him, patting his head. "Even better." You huffed, looking at Sirius who grinned at you teasingly. "Show off."
Upon entering, you were greeted with shelves upon shelves of parchment, quills, and spell books one might need in their education at Hogwarts. Sirius picked up a book titled “The Standard Book of Spells” while you grabbed “A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration.”
“Excited?” Sirius asks, his gray eyes locking onto yours. His cheeks flush, and you wonder if he’s thinking about more than just textbooks. "You can say that."
After successfully shopping for books, you all agreed to have lunch as it was already afternoon. Callista turned towards both of you, "Where would you like to eat, my dearests?"
You hummed, deep in thought as Sirius shuffled around a bit awkwardly. "Erm, mother don't usually let us eat outside our home, Lady Holstein." Callista raised her eyebrows in surprise, "Is that so?" She turned to look at you, it seems like you can't pick. "Well, how about I choose for today? Will that be alright?"
You both agreed, as you both followed Callista, you felt a random kid almost knock you over, luckily, Sirius was there to prevent you from an embarrassing fall. "Oh! Sorry, I didn't see you!" The boy apologized, picking up his fallen glasses beside your feet as you stared him down. It seemed like he's around your age and most probably shopping for school supplies as well. His face isn't that familiar to you, is he perhaps a half-blood or a muggleborn? "I suggest you get your glasses checked, it's quite alarming as you already have one on and is still having difficulties figuring out if you are walking towards a person or not." You replied, quite annoyed as you dusted off your clothes.
The boy frowned as he adjusted his glasses on his face and stood on his full height. It seems like he's almost the same height as Sirius, just a bit taller. "That's not nice." The urge to sneer was becoming more impossible to control. "Your body slamming into me isn't all that pleasant too."
Sirius frowned, looking at the two of you. "Come on, Y/n." He pulled you away, not wanting to get into any fights. "Your mother is waiting." You finally relented, looking at the corner of your eyes as you slowly walk away to see his gaze fixed on you before his mother calls out to him, effectively breaking the eye contact shared between both of you. What a weird and quite annoying encounter, like a jinx out of nowhere.
#james potter#james potter x y/n#marauders x reader#sirius black x reader#sirius black#james potter x reader#moony wormtail padfoot and prongs#remus lupin
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PJO pick-a-card reading
Luke Castellan; A message from above
Soapy scribbles: I opted to format this topic as generally as possible since we all hold various different beliefs. Whether this message comes from your spirit guides, angels, higher self, God, any deity, ancestor or passed loved ones, or anything beyond my comprehension, is for you alone to know based on how it resonates with you. I am just the messenger and it is no business of mine who your particular sender is.
01.
Shufflemancy: Travelling by James Spiteri
You're coming out of a period of stagnation. Either delays entirely out of your control, or the sheer lack of motivation has kept you at a stalemate unable to proceed with your plans. You have found comfort in distractions aplenty. A seemingly never-ending cycle of avoiding the next step because it appears so very daunting, then being overcome with guilt and shame, which you again run from, chasing anything and everything which would put these feelings at bay. Now the first step looks less frightening, and you may feel more motivated to journey onwards.
Growing pains may feature, but you are able to handle them well. You may feel inclined to keep secrets, especially regarding your endeavours. This will prove beneficial as it reduces pressure, you now have nobody to hold yourself accountable but you, and you avoid the urge to run away should anybody dare inquire about your progress. Push yourself forward, as unnerving as it may be. You will quickly notice how light you are on your feet and the distance you can go when harnessing the dopamine from simply overcoming this fear.
Do not be too hard on yourself or expect to run a marathon. A little progress is better than none, but do not use busy work as yet another distraction. You have great gifts and plenty to share with the world, and you are destined to inspire others with your achievements and your accolades. As much as you detest routine, try to keep even a small one. Do a little bit every day to inch yourself closer to your dreams. To avoid feelings of uncertainty and your fears of failure, set aside time to sit with yourself in silence and ask yourself why you want this, where it will lead, and why that is where you want to be and what you hope to achieve, the life you wish to lead and what legacy you wish you leave. Remind yourself of the answers to these questions whenever motivation begins to evade you on your journey.
Sometimes a writer can only muster a sentence, perhaps one they will later entirely eliminate, yet they did something. And sometimes all this writer can do is stare at the manuscript before them and give of themselves nothing. Yet they did something. They got up to look at it rather than wince across the room and refuse to rise to the occasion at all. Celebrate even your smallest victories and allow yourself a cheer when you muster even the slightest effort. Do not expect perfection of yourself and know that many before you had to go through trial and error, and learn and adapt along the way. That is perfectly okay and you do not need a doctorate straight out of the womb to be good enough.
02.
Shufflemancy: Kiss the rain by Yiruma
You must cease this pattern of giving up your energy so easily to so many who are not deserving of your time. When bad news arrive, it is fine to feel whichever way you feel, but anchoring your emotions to this negativity will suck you dry of the life force that you need to shine. You are allowed to have boundaries and you are encouraged to enforce them and guard them closely. Those who would trespass should know punishment swiftly. Do not tolerate things you do not tolerate truly. Do not quietly hope unfortunate things go away and that people notice your discomfort and stop what they're doing that is harming you.
Stand up for yourself and make your thoughts and feelings heard. It is also not your duty or responsibility to translate a simple no or a stop to people wilfully ignorant and always finding a justification for their words and actions. No is a full sentence. Anybody who fails to internalize this fact and look in the mirror to reflect and to change any behaviour that's lead them to ignore this simple command is not a headache to take as yours. You should be unapologetic in your selfcare and demand space when you need it. Set aside your fears and shoo away any prowling feelings of shame and guilt. If you would be happier alone than in bad company, seek solitude and cut off what no longer serves you.
There are lessons some learn only upon a collapse. You may pray for a change of heart and hope for the sun to shine again, but you do not need to weather storms that are not yours to experience. You're not a bad person for stepping back and saying enough is enough in a situation that only causes you distress. Those who need help must want it and ask for it. You can promise to be there when they're ready and aid in their recovery, and still express to them the grief that they have caused you. Sometimes people need to be faced with the harsh truth. The pain and the agony and sleepless nights which they have brought upon you and others and be shown they could truly lose it all lest they stop and strive to do and be better.
If somebody truly needs help and you do not have the heart to abandon them, seek assistance. You need not be alone in a quest which requires more than you alone have to give. There are many sources of help and even more solutions once more hands are there to help, and you only have two and are allowed to seek extra pairs to aid you in this task. You are commended for your resilience and your kind heart. It may break and bleed often, and you must know that things will get better. These rough waters will calm soon enough and you will find peace.
03.
Shufflemancy: Ballerina by Yehezkel Raz
You don't need to run so fast. You have all the time in the world to make the changes that you want and need. Slow down and allow yourself to breathe. You have been much too hard on yourself and allowed everything outside of you to weigh you down. Shelf some burdens that were never yours to carry and make the choice to serve yourself for a change. Be gentle with yourself and listen to your own body and soul, and act according to that which is truly in your best interest. You are your own worst enemy when you let the beasts feed upon your negative self talk and your fixations on perceived failures.
Know that you have no more need for tips and tricks and new methods to your madness. You already have everything that you need, and no tool beyond your own consciousness is required. You could paint cathedral ceilings with just your imagination, so cease your struggle and let yourself be carried by the stream. Do not waver in your convictions, and do not let doubt lead you astray. Stick to what you know in your heart to be true and cast away every inkling of worry and fear.
You need to learn to let life happen to you rather than holding the reins so tightly you vitiate the opportunity to experience the present moment altogether. The present is all we really have, so try your best to cling neither to the past or the future. We all have regrets behind us, and wishes for the future, but it is the present moment which we truly have control over and get to experience.
Let go of any unhealthy dependencies you may have allowed to take root in your garden. Whether this is a person, a habit, or a situation, if it isn't doing you any good in the long-term, do your best to weed it out so that more energy may be received by the things you do wish to grow and nurture. If you feel unqualified to tackle some of this gardening, do not hesitate to ask for help and guidance from gentle people who will understand how delicate some situations may be. You do not need to tolerate fear mongering or unnecessary pressure, time constraints or misplaced ultimatums. Be direct with what you need and the tone and feel you wish to engage in so that you do not end up feeling cornered and threatened so much that you refuse any help at all in favour of protecting yourself from harsh criticism and judgement.
#pac reading#pick a card reading#luke castellan#pjo#energy reading#intuitive reading#percy jackson and the olympians#pac#pick a pile#pick a picture#pick a card#tarot reading#tarotblr#soapy.post
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Hello, Mr. ENTJ. I’m an INTJ 1 sx/sp (F, 30) and was hoping for some advice.
I want to take more action in my life, but instead, I always find another reason to return to analysis, seeking a perfect way forward before stepping out. I fear taking action will taint what’s in my mind — that it won’t be all I hope for, or I won’t be capable of all I hope for.
As time goes on, my confidence diminishes, and my mind feels muddled and strained. I know I need to take action but resist it. I regret the time I’ve wasted and fear I won’t break this cycle.
Considering you and your wife are both NTJs, I was hoping you could provide a unique perspective that may help. Thank you.
Related answers:
Dealing with failure and overcoming adversity
Do you think NTJs have any self-sabotaging behaviors, and if yes, what are they and how to deal with them?
How do you recover confidence that has been lost?
Regaining confidence
For starters, talk to a professional to see if you have an anxiety disorder. Rule it out first. Beyond that, five thoughts to chew on:
1.Inaction guarantees failure. It guarantees the exact worst outcome you're trying to avoid. It’s like someone who can't decide what to eat and eventually starves. Solution? Eat something. Anything. It may not be perfect, but it'll provide basic nutrition. The same logic applies to plans: try something, pick a major, take a class, apply to a job, ask someone out, join a club, start a hobby, etc. — decide —act. If you're scared, start small and low-risk. Pick up a hobby, exercise, or even play a video game. Achieve a little win, build momentum, and keep going. Get good at something because progress breeds confidence and momentum turns into growth.
2. Perfection is a lie. I wrote about it years ago. There's no perfect solution that's realistic because people (and the world) are imperfect. The bad news? Unless you're a 35th century cyborg, you're not going to figure it out. The good news? You don't need to be perfect to be great. An 89.6% is still an A. Book the win and move on. Focus on the destination.
3. Experience is the most valuable teacher. It's how the scientific method works: try, fail, learn, refine, and try again. Read autobiographies of great people and focus on their failures, not their successes, to understand the struggles that shaped them. Then go try. Nothing replaces actual experience because it sharpens your instincts, builds your skills, and strengthens your emotional resilience. If reading alone could lead to excellence, anyone could pick up books on basketball and play like Michael Jordan. But they can’t—they need to put in the work. You do too.
4. Failure is not final. Most things in life can be fixed. I would know: I failed 10th grade and had to take summer classes, dropped out of college, and worked as a janitor for a few years before I got my shit together. At the time, it felt like I was failing, but those experiences taught me valuable lessons: what my strengths were, how to manage people, build resilience to rejection, and more. Looking back, it turns out I wasn’t failing—I was learning— and it led me to the life I've always wanted.
5. Read The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck by Mark Manson. It has concepts that will be useful to your situation. It won't be groundbreaking, but it'll be affirming.
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First Love/Late Spring - Chapter One
Lo'ak Sully x Fem!Metkayina!Reader
Summary: You would do anything he asked if he said he loved you, but his heart belonged to someone else. Tags: Angst, unrequited love, miscommunication, arranged marriages, fluff, Lo'ak being Lo'ak, sibling jealously. I think that covers it but if I missed anything lmk! Translations: Lor - beautiful, Sa'nu - mama, Evi - child, Skxawng - idiot, Kehe - no, Sanhi - bioluminescent freckles Author's Note: First time writing for this boy/fandom, so critiques are welcomed. This was heavily inspired by Amy x Laurie's relationship in Little Women and Mitski's song (the title of the fic)
“What is wrong?” Lo’ak inquired, watching you pace inside of your marui. You forgot his presence inside your tent, too busy letting your thoughts consume you. “I am a failure,” you huffed out. You had never been as good as your sister at little things, you blamed it on your big fingers.
She was better at you than everything, always the jewel in your mother's eye. Tsireya could bead, braid, heal, sing, dance and was exceptional at all of it. Her personality was so soft, kind, gentle and wise… Everything the future Tshaik needed to be. It was no wonder the boy you admired from afar preferred her., You probably would too.
You weren’t jealous, at least that’s what you told yourself, It was never her fault. There were perks to being second born: lack of expectations, no overbearing parents, and freedom to do almost anything you wanted. Your mother was still encouraging you to mate with Txayì, seeing as you were the last of your siblings to be promised to someone.
He was an amazing friend, thoughtful, attentive and extremely dutiful. Txayì always did what was asked of him with no complaints, something you could not fathom doing. In truth, he was far too good for you, and he deserved someone who wasn’t pining after someone she could not obtain.
You’ve loved Lo’ak since he first arrived at your village seven long years ago, running from the sky people who hunted his family. He wasn’t a mighty warrior like his brother nor was he outwardly charming like his father, but he had a strong heart. Lo’ak brought excitement to your life, adventures you would have never dared to go on before his arrival.
His human nature, jokes and quirks, are what made him so endearing. You loved his lopsided smile that curved upwards when he found something amusing, the way he used his hands when he talked. It was no secret that your eyes followed him when he walked by, that his voice made your heart flutter or the way his dark hair fell into his eyes.
If Lo’ak asked you to jump off of a cliff with him, you doubted that you’d have the sense of mind to reject him. Thinking of him in this way made your heart ache, an invisible pressure on your chest that refused to abate. It was your feelings for him that made you miserable for most of your life. Your crush that you buried, unable to move forward with any other man as long as he lived. You would never want to confess it; he was in love with your sister.
Every moment they spent together slowly broke down your resolve, your infatuation growing into something you couldn't ignore anymore. It seemed Ewya took noticed and decided to ease your torture, cease the pain momentarily. Tsireya had found a mate, one that both of your parents adored. She seemed to have no quarrels about marrying him and leaving Lo’ak behind.
Both of you were destined to never be able to be with the ones your heart desired. “I am no mighty warrior, amazing singer or dancer. I am mediocre at best… at literally everything.” You turned on your heel, outstretched your arms, “Tsireya can do it all, sing, dance, braid, heal and everything a Tsahik should be. Aonung is a great hunter and warrior, destined to be Olo'eyktan. I’m just the second born, forgotten child with no clear path.”
You lowered your arms to your side and let out a sigh, trying to find some air that wasn't saturated with the weight of your troubles., You were hopeless. “You know, you are way funnier than both. You could be a comedian or jewelry maker- ow!” You slapped his hand, stern eyes boring into him. “I’m being serious, Lo’ak… what’s a comedian?”
He rubbed his hand, acting like it was actually injured and not just a playful slap. “It’s a human thing. Listen, I think you’re grossly underestimating how cool you are.” You scrunch your brows at his comment, not sure if you were being complimented or insulted.
Lo'ak's expression turned serious, watching your features closely, “I’ve been second best to Neteyam all my life and after the incident with Payakan my future isn’t looking too bright either.” He pressed his lips together, a forlorn look in his eyes, the one you grew up seeing whenever his brother's name was mentioned.
You let out a deep sigh, “but you swore he isn’t evil right? When the clan realizes you’re telling the truth, you could be known as the first Ttulkun rider and become legend… I want to be great or nothing at all.” Lo’ak‘s brows furrowed together, “so you believe mating with Txayì will bring you to greatness?”
“Don’t make fun. I think it would make my parents proud of me at least.” You watched him cross his arms across his chest and pout, it was incredibly cute. “Odd coming from someone who spits in the face of tradition.” You scoffed and gave him an incredulous look, “I do not spit in the face of tradition... Why do you care anyway?”
Lo'ak paused for a second, seeming to mull over his thoughts before answering. "I have no issue with it as long you love him.” You sucked in a breath, a sharp pain shooting through your chest. Lo’ak cocked his head to the side, noticing your expression, and quickly added, "and it doesn't seem like you do, not from your reaction."
“And do you have someone else in mind, O' wise one?” You crossed your arms and peered down at him with a smirk. “I’m just saying, If you really think you'll never amount to anything then why not mate with me. Like you said… I’m gonna be the first Tulkan rider.”
Your cheeks were beginning to heat up and you looked away from his gaze. He was joking but you were unable to hide the small flicker of hope that bloomed inside your chest. Your heart started to beat faster, the idea of marrying Lo'ak was enticing, something that would have never occurred to you before now.
You noticed Lo'ak had been more touchy than normal, flirtier even, but you blamed it on the lack of attention he was receiving from your sister. He didn't have any other options and your heart was fragile at the moment, so you played it off as nothing more than a joke. He would always belong to your sister, and you would never be able to hold a candle to her. “I should have known not to come to you with serious matters.” You gave him a disapproving look before continuing.
You stalked forward, picking up the beaded top you made just days earlier. It was a mixture of beautiful blues and white shells, a necklace honestly too beautiful to be worn by you. “Help me fasten this before I have to go.” You were happy to change the subject and focus on anything else.
Lo'ak walked forward, his body moving slowly like he was testing the waters, his fingers grazing your back. His touch sent chills down your spine and butterflies in your stomach. You tried to focus on the task at hand, you're a big girl and you're not a child anymore. “Why are you wearing something like this?”
Lo’ak’s head hovered above yours, his voice deep, reverberating within you. It was impossible to not feel the heat of his breath as it cascaded down your neck, his hands still on your back, gently running along the edge of your tunic. You cleared your throat, pulling away from him and twirling around. “I made it yesterday, what do you think?”
“it’s beautiful… you’re beautiful,” his voice trailed off, his gaze was soft and full of something you could not place. It wasn't lust or adoration, more longing than anything else. “Thank you, Lo’ak.” You whispered, almost unable to get the words out of your mouth. You shook your head, forcing yourself back into reality. “I have to go help my mother; I’ll see you soon yeah?” He gave you a soft smile and quick nod before opening the flap to let you leave.
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The return of the Tulkun signaled the return of clear skies and calm seas. Your spirit sister, Äiä, had grown even larger since her last visit. This year she was speaking to you about the next breeding cycle, deciding it was time for her to bear her first calf. You were excited for her, proud of how far she’s come from the lonely calf who stuck to her mother’s fin.
She was known for being the most dutiful yet filled with mischief she only showed to you. You spoke to Äiä about your own love life, seeking comfort in your sister. Of course, she preferred the boy who did not bond with the outcast. It was as if Ewya had planned it this way, not allowing you the luxury of happiness.
Even though you spent hours beneath the water with her, it still never felt as if it was long enough. Soon the morning sun faded into hues of purple and orange, signaling the night's approach. You wanted nothing more than to escape into the ocean and be with her.
However, your clan had other plans. You made your way to the mats, already prepared for the night, an empty place set for you next to Txayì. The arrival of the Tulkuns was celebrated every year, a moderately large feast and an abundance of music learned from Ewya herself.
The food was always welcome and the atmosphere always lively, a nice break from the monotony of daily life. “How was your spirit sister?” Txayì asked, his smile soft yet excited as he sat down next to you. You gave him a small smile, “she is well and hoping for a calf by next year.” He let out a hm, placing a palm on his chin.
"That's amazing, I hope she has a successful mating season." He answered, “I’m assuming you are wanting to follow her suit?” His voice was casual but there was a twinge of nervousness behind it. That was good, you didn’t enjoy overconfidence in men.
"Perhaps, if that is what Ewya wills.” You responded with a shrug. Txayì gave you a soft nod and a small smile. You’re returned to tearing the fish on your plate apart, staring at the Sulli family sitting across the fire. Lo’ak was staring right back, giving you a sly grin.
You rolled your eyes and gave him a quick wave, only causing him to smirk more. Neteyam grasped his neck, whispering something in his ear with a huge grin plastered on his face. Lo'ak scoffed and playfully pushed Neteyam, sending him into a fit of giggles. You shook your head, forcing yourself to look away from them.
"I think you should start the evening with a dance,” your mother nodded in the direction of the man next to you, it was not a suggestion and more of a command. You begrudgingly rose from your mat and stepped over Txayì, your hand grazed his own as you walked by him, an invitation for you to join him for a dance.
You spun around with a wide smile, outstretching your arms preparing to move. The sounds of the flute and drums sending vibrations through you. You closed your eyes, enjoying the beats of the music as it filled your ears. Your body started to move on its own accord, moving with the music.
Dancing was like swimming, the rhythm flowing through you as the water did, pushing and pulling you to where it desired. You let it carry you, jumping and twirling in its current. Your movements were fluid and elegant as you continued to move with the beat. Txayì’s eyes seemed to be transfixed, captivated by the sight.
You smiled genuinely as you continued your dance, it felt like an outpouring of your soul. He was not as bad of a dancer as you thought, vastly more graceful than Ao’nung who was tripping over his feet in the corner. You felt someone's gaze on your back, eyes watching all of your moves.
Your feet spun you around, staring back at the person who was disrupting your dance. Your smile faltered when you realized it was Lo'ak, his face shrouded in an unknown emotion. You followed his eyes to the man behind you, staring back at him with the same intensity.
"Who is that?" Txayì asked, his voice low and his tone laced with suspicion. "Lo’ak," you replied, shifting your gaze back to Lo'ak who was now getting up to leave the excitement. You sucked in a breath and met his gaze, placing a hand on his arm. "I’ll be right back."
You chased after Lo’ak, following him further outside the village. His movements began to slow as he reached the tree groves. "What are you doing?" You huffed, trying to keep up with him. "Lo'ak, wait for me," you tried again. “What is your problem?” You snapped at him, planting your feet in the sand.
He finally glanced at you, his gaze softening ever so slightly. "Nothing,” He muttered, turning around to walk away. "Stop being a brat and talk to me," you grasped his arm, pulling him so he was forced to look at you. He took a deep breath, raising his head as if praying to Ewya for strength. "I don't like him," His lips formed into a small pout, reminding you of a child. “Who?”
"Txayì," he scoffed, “the golden boy,” he mocked. You furrowed your brows together, "what has he done to spurn you?” You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I don’t believe he’s right for you and you’re wasting both your time trying.” Your hand dropped back to your side, face losing its once worried expression,
“I genuinely do not understand your sudden interest in who I mate with,” you said unamused. He gave you a deep frown and a sigh, his eyes drifting down to your chest. His fingers moved upwards to trace the beads concealing your chest, “this is the one you made earlier, yes?”
Your body tensed, the air between the two of you shifting into something more serious, “Yes but don’t change the subject.” He didn't answer your question, his fingers gently tugging at the necklace around your neck. “It looks really good on you.” You sucked in a breath, your eyes following his.
“You are deflecting,” you said, trying to hold your ground. “Do you really like him,” Lo'ak asked, his voice so soft, it was almost inaudible. His eyes stayed low as he gazed at you, a silent plea behind them. “I haven’t given it much thought,” you started, meeting his stare.
"Not as much as my mother likes him, that’s for sure,” you grinned. Lo'ak smirked back, the air between you once again becoming lighter. "She does have interesting taste in mates," he smiled to himself. You giggled with him, his demeanor changing from somber to cheerful in an instant. "Was that all that bothered you?”
“Nah. you lied and told me you sucked at dancing like me, but you made everyone else look like real fish out of water.” You laughed at his childish remark. It wasn't often you laughed that hard, a pleasant sound leaving your lips. He smiled at you, his gaze softening as his eyes studied your features. “Ah, I see,” you said, tapping your fingers on your chin.
“You’re just jealous I’m better than you,” you teased. His lips parted in an offended gasp, “no way, not even close. You’ve never even danced with me before.” You giggled as his hand went to his chest. "Oh, great Lo'ak, you humble me." You bowed before him, exaggerating your movements.
"Stop with the theatrics and dance with me already." He moved forward, taking ahold of your hands. "Your jokes are always terrible." You let out another laugh as he began leading. "Better than your pickup lines at least," you joked. His hands went to grip your waist, lifting you up in the air and spinning once. You squealed, he laughed in return, “you’ve never even heard them before!”
"I didn't need to hear them, I know you too well," you giggled. Lo’ak grasped your hands again, pulling you around in a circle. “This is a human dance! Much more advanced than what you were doing,” he declared. You rolled your eyes, trying not to focus on how warm his hands felt as they held you.
"Whatever you say," you continued to laugh, moving along with him. The two of you twirled around the area, his smile becoming a permanent feature on his face. You noted a few things about human dancing, it was sporadic and spontaneous, you touched each other continuously throughout it, and it was joyful and lighthearted. You had not noticed it before but the music that filled the village seemed to fade, the only sounds being those from your lips. The rest of the world was drowned out as you continued to dance, his body moving with yours, never separating.
You hadn't noticed your surroundings, not until you stumbled into the base of the tree. He moved to steady you, but his balance was far off as well, knocking into you as you stumbled backwards. You let out a sharp gasp, gripping onto his arm for support as you hit the ground.
He hovered over you, his tail twisted under your leg and his knees incasing you. “I thought you said you were a good dancer,” you groaned. You gazed up at him, his features illuminated by the moonlight, his eyes widened, and his lips parted. "Huh?”
Lo’ak looked ethereal in the lighting of twilight, his sanhì decorating his face. The air between you shifted, the heat radiating off his body shrouding you. His eyes followed yours down to his lips, your labored breaths synchronizing. It was as if you were in a trance, the world around you becoming nonexistent. You had long since stopped moving, entranced by his presence, his scent surrounding you. He began to lean in closer, his eyes beginning to flutter shut.
“Little bro! Where did you run off to?!” Neteyam’s voice startled you both. You jerked your head away from him, pushing him off of you as you rose to your feet. Lo'ak sighed in frustration, a hand going to his face, rubbing it gently, “over here, bro!”
Neteyam rushed up to the two of you, his gaze switching between the two of you, an amused grin on his face. You stood up, fixing your braid that had fallen out of place. “Neteyam,” you nodded, “I’m going to go back before my mother sends a search party.”
Neteyam moved aside, giving you space to walk past him, his gaze still stuck on Lo'ak. "I see you are taking my brotherly advice," he giggled, glancing at his brother. Lo'ak looked up at Neteyam and groaned, falling back into the sand. “You are a cockblock."
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Ronal roughly pulled her fingers through your hair, untangling the knots that had formed overnight. You stared out of the Marui, watching the rain drops disrupt the water, the sky was darkening, a major storm brewing. "Ma evi, you have the unruliest hair out of the clan,” she huffed.
“Can you braid it this time, sa‘nu?” She gave you a quick nod and kept running her fingers through your hair. Your eyes traveled to the horizon, watching Lo’ak attempting tricks with his ilu. Your siblings and all three of his observing him, Ao’nung no doubt goading him on.
He was so reckless sometimes, always pushing his luck. If something happened to Lo'ak you wouldn't know how you'd cope with the loss. You may just pray Ewya takes you with him instead. You glanced down at the necklace that hung around your neck, a sharp pain shooting through your chest.
The past few nights you’ve been haunted by the memory of the other night, the huge mistake you almost made while in a daze.
Lo'ak was everything you wanted, yet so far out of your grasp, too far to reach. You were terrified, your future with Txayì was decided, yet your heart still pined for Lo'ak. However, as you watched him interact with your sister, the radiant smile adorning her face, his own just as bright as the sun, you knew the truth. The other night was just an attempt to heal his heart from her previous rejection.
"You are too quiet," Your mother ceased her braiding and moved her body around yours. "Apologies, I am just thinking.” You responded, meeting your mothers gaze. Her brows were furrowed together, and her lips were pursed in thought. "Thinking about…?" She prompted you to continue. "Txayì and our future.” You stated, lowering your eyes to the floor, unable to meet her gaze.
She hummed, continuing her work, "I know you better than you know yourself, evi. You are worried about the forest boy and your future with him." You shifted on your mat, meeting her stare. “w-what? No, I just-" You stammered, not able to find your words.
"Let me speak before you lie more to me.” She commanded, a knowing look in her eyes. You sucked in a breath, your body stilling in its spot. “Your father and I will not force you to be with someone you do not want,” she paused, carefully choosing her words.
"But Txayì will bring you much more happiness and stability in the future." She met your gaze, a stern look plastered on her face. “Lo’ak has bonded with the outcast. If you choose him, I fear your life will be filled with pain and turmoil you could avoid.” You sucked in a breath and tried to hold back tears, unable to respond.
Your mother reached forward, placing a warm palm on your cheek, her touch gentle yet strong, just like her. "You deserve to be happy with whom you wish, but you need to understand what you will lose as well as what you will gain and if that is truly worth it.” You gave her a soft nod, not wanting to voice your answer. Your mother released her hand, your face feeling cold in the absence of her touch.
She smiled and moved back to finish your hair. "Meet with Txayì tonight and make your choice later." She tugged at your hair, securing the last of your braids. You felt your stomach churn at the thought and the small bubble of hope that had bloomed inside your chest popping.
You felt as though you were spilt in two, the currents in your heart ripping you in opposite directions. A part of you yearned for the easy route, the best choice for a promising future. It appeared bright and rosy like a flower that had just bloomed, a vision of Txayì always being there for you.
Your heart didn't agree, however, it pined for the outcast, the Omatikaya boy who held a permanent residence in your mind. It wanted nothing more than to be with him, to live in his chaos and venture into the unknown with him. It didn’t frighten you, the unforeseen and the dangerous future that would eventually befall your life, but you would follow Lo'ak anywhere, regardless of what would await you, as long as he chose you.
But he would not choose you. No matter how much you wished for him, he would always pick your sister. You would never be able to compete with her, you didn't possess the same charm or grace as Tsireya. You've seen his eyes wander in the past and you knew it wasn't only the necklace that had him captivated.
You would be no more than second best as always. You would continue to be the shadow to her light, and you could not begrudge him for preferring it. As you stood to leave your mothers gaze followed you, the slight frown she had on her face made your heart sink. "I will go and meet Txayì, sa’nu. I'm sure he has many good qualities I have yet to see." You gave her a weak smile before turning to exit the marui.
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You ventured outside the reef with Txayì, following suit as he spoke endlessly about his own life. It was hard to listen when your mind was some place far away, thinking of someone out of reach. He was doing his utmost to impress you, wanting to be seen as someone worthy of your time.
And he was worth your time, that is but you were not worth his. It was as your mother had been saying, he was a mighty warrior and a superb hunter. Txayì was handsome, adorned with thick thighs and muscular arms, much different from Lo’ak. You liked to think Lo'ak's features were more refined, more delicate yet still masculine and appealing.
Txayì proved himself to be loyal, trustworthy, a true leader with a good soul and a promising future. He spoke about the many great achievements he had under his belt, the great stories he's heard from outside the reef and what he's seen. Txayì seemed to be interested in the few things you spoke of as well, listening intently and absorbing every syllable you uttered.
The two of you spent most of the morning together, but not once did he make an advance towards you. He seemed to be genuine, but did not possess the charm that Lo'ak did, lacking the charisma and playfulness that made you smile and made your heart flutter. That no longer mattered, you tried to convince yourself.
You had to make a choice soon, to choose what would bring you the most stability, regardless of what you would be leaving behind. "So will I see you later?" Txayì asked, stopping his movements on the shore and turning his head to face you.
"Yes, I’m sure my mother would love for you to sit with us at the evening meal." You answered, giving him a weak smile, unable to commit to a real one. He gave you an enthusiastic nod, "good. I look forward to getting to know you all better.” He placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it as he said his goodbyes.
You gave him a quick nod and a tight smile before bidding him farewell. You watched as he left, his form getting smaller as he headed back onto shore. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the nervousness that was building in your gut. This is a good match, you told yourself.
After you had properly cleaned yourself, you escaped to a corner of the beach. The sum was at its highest, its orange glow reflecting off of the water. You dragged a satchel of bead, shells and various materials to make jewelry. Eventually, you needed to craft a courting present for your future mate. But for now, you intended to spend the rest of the day finishing the ones you had already started.
At some point your fingers began to ache from how long you had been braiding the strands of the jewelry together. You had never been meticulous about the bracelets you made but this was a gift. The shells you chose were shades of blue and cerulean, accompanied by nearly translucent beads you stole from Tsireya’s stash. It was coming together nicely, you thought to yourself.
The soft sounds of sand rusting behind you tore you from your thoughts. Still, you chose to ignore the person quickly approaching. “Why so blue?” Lo’ak’s voice rang in your eyes as he sat down in front of you, legs crossed. A shit eating grin plastering his face. “You’re not funny skxawng,” you scoffed whilst stifling a laugh.
His eyebrows lifted as he gazed into your lap. “Are those bracelets? For whom?” You tossed the eldest one at him, ignoring his expression. “I never got the chance to give that one to you,” you spoke in a hushed tone. You focused on finishing the most recent one, tying an Amber colored stone onto it. “This is for you too,” you spun around to face him, watching him intently as his fingers ran over the beads.
Lo'ak looked up at you, eyes widening. You could feel yourself grow more anxious, fidgeting with your fingers and swallowing hard as you tried to keep yourself calm. You spoke fast, interrupting him before he could finish his train of thought. “They’re meant to represent you, the first is to represent the forest when you were an Omatikaya… This one is to represent you as a Metkayina.”
You were unable to speak as he slowly clasped it around his wrist. He rubbed the surface of it gently, a soft smile painted his lips. “They’re beautiful, thank you… shouldn't you be making these for Txayì?” he teased, speaking in a soft voice.
You shrugged, averting your eyes, “Yes.” You felt a lump in your throat at the thought of him, the thought of your future. “What is he doing these days? I haven’t seen him around.” Lo'ak looked towards the horizon, eyes narrowing as if he could see all of the way to your village. “I would assume he was training with my father.”
Lo’ak stood up, pacing around you and softly disturbing the sand. His tail swayed, as if he was upset hearing about your future mate. You remained silent, only observing his behavior. He spoke again, his voice hushed, eyes focused on the ground. You could see the change in his demeanor, the stiffness in his shoulders, “Don’t mate with him.”
“Not this again…” you glanced up at him, his face laced with seriousness. You pushed yourself off of the sand and gazed at him. “Why?” Lo’ak stalked forward, placing his hands on your shoulders as if to hold you in place. “You know why, lor.”
You looked up at him, swallowing hard as you felt his warm fingers grip your arms. You stared into his eyes, noticing his dark pupils slowly dilated. Your mouth turned down into a frown, tears threatening to escape your eyes. Lo’ak was giving you false hope, pretending he desired you. “That’s enough, Lo’ak.”
You attempted to pull away, but he moved closer, trying to pull you back in. He began whispering sweet nothings towards you, his eyes as gentle as his voice. You took a step back and moved out of his grip, "Kehe! Lo’ak! You know better!” your voice trailed off, “I have been second to Tsireya my entire life. I will not be the mate you settle for just because you cannot have her!”
His face fell, a pained expression appeared on his face as he moved to embrace you. You ignored what your heart yearned for and stalked off in the other direction. Your harsh words cut deep within Lo’ak’s flesh, leaving unseen marks on his heart. He loathed when you were upset with him, especially when he was the cause of it. Lo'ak assumed after the other night you were riding the same wave, obviously not. His tail wrapped around himself as he sat on the sand, the droplets of rain beginning to soak his hair.
He understood the pain of being second to his sibling and never being someone’s first choice. But he had also wanted you for much longer than you realized. He’ll admit Tsireya was an amazing friend, and truly helped him learn how to be one of the people. But that was all she was to him, a friend.
Not to mention Txayì would never be able to make you happy, he was too bland and far too perfect. You’d get bored of him after a few moon cycles and regret choosing him for the rest of his life. The thought alone was driving him insane and everyone around him knew it.
How could he make you see him? To understand just how much he yearned for you too. That you took up the most space in his heart and head, leaving little room for any other thought. He sighed deeply, falling back onto the sand and staring up at the darkened sky. Lo’ak closed his eyes, fantasizing a future that was so close yet completely untouchable.
To be continued….
#lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan#lo'ak sully#lo'ak x y/n#lo'ak x reader#lo'ak x fem!reader#lo'ak fluff#lo'ak angst#lo'ak fic#atwow loak#loak x reader#loak x you#lo'ak x you#loak sully#avatar the way of water#atwow fanfiction#atwow x reader
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Hiiiiiiiiiiiii. Ok let me introduce myself. my name is seri. I’m a master shifter and my main destinations are different points in history. I have no idea why history isn’t more popular in the shifting community. Like the things I’ve experienced first hand are amazing. Like I’ve seen things with my own eyes that we learn about in history textbooks. It’s the most amazing experience. I’ve been to alot of drs too like hogwarts, mcu, fame, love dr, avatar and so many more but nothing compares to seeing our worlds history for myself.
Some of my fave times I’ve been too: ( I changed my gender to a boy for most of these drs because I wouldn’t be able to experience it properly as a woman because of the time periods and I didn’t want to change history )
The making of the pyramids
Cleopatras ruling
King Tutankhamen
The making of the Great Wall of China
The first man to land on the moon ( I scripted I was a part of crew for the mission )
Queen Elizabeth the firsts ruling
The independence of America
The battle of Hastings
Ancient Greek
Ancient Rome
Seeing the Mona Lisa being made
Meeting Vincent Van Gogh
The Black Death ( I didn’t go to see people die I lived as a part of the government cause I always wanted to know how they tried to deal with it. There was so much panic )
Seeing Martin Luther kind jr give his “ I have a dream” speech in person
The crowning of queen elizabeth the seconds coronation
Meeting William Shakespeare
The Christmas truce
Pompeii before it way destroyed ( it was beautiful )
Seeing the 7 wonders of the ancient world
Hanging garden of babylon
Seeing ancient structures when they were actually In use ( the colosseum, temple of Hera, so many more I can’t even list )
Getting the great honour to learn kalaripayattu in ancient India
And genuinely just getting to live life seeing these people go about their own lives. Beautiful
I’m not going to list anymore cause there so many but I have experienced the beginning of the first humans millions of years ago to the making of the I phone. I am so honoured I get to experience these events and meet the people in the stories we learn. It’s crazy because to us it’s this amazing history we can only imagine but to them it’s just life. They no nothing else. They don’t know how truely incredible they are in our history. I can’t wait to experience more. Maybe one day I’ll even go into the future. Who knows.
Also something else I did was meet Van Gogh and take him to the dr future to the Van Gogh museum so he can see he wasn’t a failure. So he could see he made it. I took this idea after watching doctor who and it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I still get chills. To see this man who died thinking he was nothing getting to see a the future where he is known as one of the greatest artists of all time. My favorite shifting experience ever
Woooaaahhhh!! That's like suppoerr cooll!! I'm so happy for you and that is such a cool idea ajajajsk😭❣️
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HII I saw your requests are open and you wanted um. Neji. Reqs. Hi. um.!! Could you write something of him with a reader thats not from a strong clan (They are well known but not for fighting or even field work) and doesn’t have a Kekkei Genkai or anything but is strong regardless,,, wields a sword and is great at fighting physically and all that. She teases him a lot and gets not his nerves but it’s all affectionate! She does get underestimated a lot though. I’ve had this idea sitting in my head ever since I watched naruto,, saw team guy and fell in love they are my roman empire
Neji With an S/O Who Isn’t From a Prominent Clan
Idk if i capitalize titles right tbh. I forget how it’s done honestly. I don’t remember if “With” gets capitalized.
Anyways, thank you so much for your request!
This is a little harsh in the beginning. So WARNING! For asshole genin Neji.
No gender specified, but “beautiful” is used
An uneven number of shinobi graduating from the academy was so oddly unheard of that at first, you ended up training alone with some jonin who took pity on you.
And at first, Neji had said something to his team about that just being the fate of people like you. Destined to be alone and a failure.
No need to give you some chance for a big break in life, this would happen any way you put it.
Neji didn’t ever figure he’d be willing to die for you one day. (Maybe he’s not the character to say this for…)
He dreaded when Gai Sensei introduced you as a new teammate of team 3.
Of course Gai would go through the trouble of taking pity on a wimp like you. He should have expected no less.
Tenten was excited that you wielded a weapon, however.
And Rock Lee was excited to have a new teammate! Not to mention, you were beautiful. He was just a little smitten…
Overtime, he watched you train. And as Tenten marveled over how well off you were in your skills with your ninjato! (A ninjato is a straight sword, if you don’t know. Sasuke uses one)
And in the same way he thinks Rock Lee or Naruto are destined to never make it anywhere, he thinks the same of you.
After the chunin exams and the Konoha crush, he begins to think differently of you. He thinks differently of himself, Rock Lee, and Naruto as well. Even Lady Hinata.
Overall, he becomes more pleasant to be around. And you both start to talk a bit more often.
Soon he fines Lee’s insistence on flirting with you so openly is annoying, and not just because he won’t shut up anymore, but now it’s that he’s jealous.
He’s jealous?
He’s jealous.
And when he watches you fight while on missions, he’s got a different way of looking at you.
Maybe somebody with no Kekkei Genkai and no prominent clan can really make it. Maybe you aren’t destined for failure. Maybe that challenge is just something you can overcome, become stronger.
And you have.
I think being with him would be a classic case of you fell first, he fell harder.
You didn’t fall immediately. You were very sweet, but anybody with a brain knew Neji was a total asshole. Even if you were rather nice to him, you didn’t have eyes for him beyond thinking he was pretty for a guy.
So once he starts to be nicer, you quickly realize he’s not just visually your type. You really like the guy.
It takes him a couple years to fully realize he fell for you.
And a bit longer to realize Lee, as much as he cares for him, is testing his patience asking you out. When will he give up?
So he realizes, if he keeps quiet, are you gonna give in and let Lee have a chance with your heart?
So he ends up asking you out on a date after pulling you off to the side. Making sure you were out of earshot from anybody, especially your team.
You both keep it silent from Tenten, Gai, and Lee. Anybody really. For a while.
He wonders how none of them notice the way you tease him more than the others. The way you’re just a bit too touchy with him. (Tenten noticed, but she keeps her mouth shut for a while)
The way you insist on braiding his hair or tying it up for him before training or something to get it out of his way.
Or just beg him to let you braid it for fun. No real reason.
Usually he rolls his eyes, groans, and says no. Firmly. But he’s not so firm with you.
He looks so pretty with his braided hair. Let’s just say that.
Until finally Neji snaps a little bit at Lee, “When will you realize, y/n has a boyfriend, Lee.”
Lee’s eyes go wide, and he’s visibly upset. But soon his brows just furrow a bit as he exclaims “WAIT, WHO??”
Neji realizes his mistake, but he’s not ashamed of you. So maybe it is time to say something. So he informs Lee, and the rest of the over enthusiastic team, that he is, in fact, your boyfriend.
He’s actually so proud of your skills.
He’s not the type to show you off by PDA, but he will smirk and look all smug when somebody compliments you or you do something awesome.
And when the clan’s branch system gets dismantled, eventually he starts figuring your name would sound real nice with Hyuga as a family name.
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