#and this really reminded me why I wanted to write Losing Hope in the first place!!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
sillygoofyqueer · 4 months ago
Note
I came across your MDZS fic and it’s amazing and I just wanted to say I appreciate the extreme angst because it’s so well written! (I love angst and your fic is the best I’ve seen in awhile) tho ngl at one point I was wondering if MXY would be brought back as a fierce corpse like WN. Kinda glad you didn’t go that route but also I’m crying over WWX taking care of MXY’s ribbon. Thank you for writing this!
Am I crying??? Maybe I am, but you'll never know. In all honesty, this is so so sweet, I'm so glad that you're enjoying reading it! It actually never crossed my mind to bring Mo Xuanyu as a fierce corpse, and thinking about it now I'm also glad I didn't go down that route. I think it'd kind of take away from the whole thing of another stranger dying just so he could survive - if Mo Xuanyu came back, it'd minimise the sacrifice, I think. It's like Mo Xuanyu would still get a shot at life like Wen Ning did, which means that his death was able to be rectified. It shows the cruelty of Jin Guangyao as well, because it shows that he doesn't care about anyone that doesn't help his goal? Conversely, there would be a good touch of angst if every time Wei Wuxian saw Mo Xuanyu, he was reminded that this teenager is undead because of him (bonus points if he was the one to raise Mo Xuanyu, because then there would be the internal argument of selfishness vs selflessness for bringing the boy back). However, that could definitely still be shown through the ribbon as a constant reminder? If that makes sense. Once again, thank you so so so much for sending this, I'm passing out with such joy, sobbing my eyes out fr!!! Don't mind my rambling, but I love that you cared enough to actually mention the alternative in the ask, it really got me thinking because it's such an interesting change that I can't believe I didn't think of. I love you so soso soooo much, and I'm going feral at the insinuation that you like my fanfic this much! I LOVE YOU!!!!
6 notes · View notes
earthtooz · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
x : TO LOVE, TO CHANGE: *+゚
in which: you tell veritas you love him. he gets upset with you.
warnings: contrary to what the synopsis implies, it's fluff, i promise. 1k words, first time saying ily, slightly cranky reader, no mentions of reader's gender, dr. ratio being so in love he becomes so soppy and lovestruck. confessions.
a/n: there's a phenomenon that happens whenever i write for dr. ratio, and it's that my heart literally lunges out of my chest and begins typing at the keyboard for me. i should get it checked out. anyways, this is to preemptively celebrate his release!!
Tumblr media
“Why- why are you mad?” You exclaim, watching the way Veritas crosses his arms and pouts with the petulance of a child. His gaze has strayed away from your eyes, and all you can do is sit in his lap with your arms hanging at your sides, brain tirelessly racking for all the reasons that you could have angered him.
He doesn’t give you any clues, displeasure brewing in his eyes instead.
“Is it because I said ‘I love you’?”
The purple haired scoffs and sticks up his nose, hair bouncing with his actions whilst you jostle slightly on his legs from the quick action. As much as you love his side profile, you’d love it even more if he spoke to you about what is bothering him.
During this moment, the world stills. You think he’s genuinely mad, and Dr. Ratio’s fury-driven state is not something you should take lightly. Really, you’ve seen it multiple times, and though it has never been directed at you, you hope it never will be. Which is why you sit on his lap now, tensely anticipating his response, and for the answer as to what you did wrong. 
“I was meant to say it first,” he grumbles, losing the arrogance that fills his tone whenever he speaks, air filling with sincerity. 
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I was meant to be the one to say ‘I love you’ first.”
Your confusion is tangible at this point. Audible, if you will, because it rings like cicada sing. “Are you being serious?”
“Deadly.”
“You- why, then couldn’t you just have said it?” You sputter, slapping his defined deltoid, concern slowly melting into frustration. “Need I remind you that it was me who confessed to you first as well?”
“Yes, and it was positively the best day of my life.” He says that like it’s a simple fact. No sentiment, no heartfelt declaration, just another logical statement straight from a textbook of his life.
They say to be loved is to be changed, but no matter how much you love Veritas, all he knows is how to be an astronomical pain in your ass. Does he know how scared you were for his answer? You thought you did something unforgivable, or that he didn’t love you enough to respond in kind, or worst of all, that he wanted nothing to do with you anymore?
However, he's acting petty because he was not the first one to say those three words? You frankly don’t know why your heart beats for him as strongly as it does. In fact, you want to whack him over the head with his own codex.  
Placing your hands firmly on his shoulders, you shuffle out of your position from his lap, planting your feet onto the ground. “Oh, you are so infuriating! Pretend I never said anything, I’m going back to my office until you-”
Not even two steps away from him and a hand clasps around your wrist to drag you back to where you started: on Dr. Ratio’s lap. His arms come to wrap around you like chains, leaving no room to wrestle him out.
“I never said you could leave. Especially not after telling me you love me,” he grumbles lowly into your collarbone, breath tickling your skin.
“I’m starting to regret it.�� 
“Can’t you at least say it again?”
“I don’t want to,” you grumble, arms snaking up to rest around his shoulders. “You don’t deserve it.” 
“Well, that’s a little harsh. Is this how you treat the ones you love?”
“You haven’t even said anything back,” you pinch his skin. “Talk about harsh.”
“Do you remember the first time we met?” he asks with a fond chuckle, not missing the opportunity to leave kisses in a trail along your skin, making his way up your neck. Then, when his eyes meet yours, you almost crumble in embarrassment at the memory he’s injected into your mind. 
You push him away and raise a hand to shield your eyes from him, clearly reliving a haunting memory. “Please don’t remind me.” 
“Y’know, it’s not everyday someone gets to scold me and be right. If you weren’t so beautiful, I wouldn’t have let it slide, but it’s not everyday a gorgeous genius falls into my lap with guts to challenge me.”
“I was… agitated that day, so stop talking about it, please. In fact, for my sake, please just forget that moment. Completely.”
“Forget about it? Completely?” The scholar asks with genuine shock lacing his tone. “I fell in love with you in that very moment, how can you expect me to stop talking about it? You rendered me a fool in love and expect me to not think about the very moment it happened? Sweetheart, it was a pivotal moment of my life!” 
“Not pivotal enough if you can’t even say ‘I love you, too’.”
“On the contrary, I have loved you longer. I yearned for you in wakefulness and in my dreams. I wished for you to look my way, and when you did, I never wanted your eyes to stray from me. How heartbreaking it was when they did.” His hand has snuck under your shirt now to rub circles on your skin. If he detached from you, he fears you’d slip away from him, and the worst thing you can give him is space. “Do you know how it felt chasing after you because you were the only one out of my reach? For three years, the only thing I wanted was to be yours. You made me an idiot.”
Stunned by his confession and the weight of it, you let him continue, sharp tongue softening. The only motivation you offer is a hand coming to cup his cheek, tucking aside his bangs so you can see his expression in its entirety. 
His gold eyes shine when they look back up at you. For the first time, you feel like you’re seeing the parts of him that Veritas hides from everyone else. 
“I love you.” He continues with heart wrenching devotion. “I’ll continue loving you until the streams stop, the rivers freeze, and the oceans dry. With three hundred thousand, eighty-three thousand, five hundred and seventy-one discovered planets in the cosmos, that phenomenon will approximately take-”
You seal his lips with yours in a gentle kiss, cradling his jaw and swallowing his words. Like wax to fire, Veritas sinks into you, completely helpless against your affections. 
But, oh, you love him, and nothing else in the entire universe matters.
Tumblr media
© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
7K notes · View notes
tbaluver · 2 months ago
Text
Kissing His Scars- The Love And DeepSpace Men
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader requested: anonnie (anonymous) ᯓᡣ𐭩 genre: slight angst i think ( references of their past lives ) but tooth rotting fluff overall ! a/n: hihi lovelies i miss you all ! i've been really busy with school and i missed writing and interacting with you all so much ˙◠˙ this was requested by an anonnie and i apologize if this is written not the best i feel so rusty bc my exams drained me ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) i hope you all are so well and i hope i can get some writing posted bc i have a couple ideas for kinktober but i feel so late ˙◠˙ anyways enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
Tumblr media
Xavier:
Xavier has a couple scars from all the battles he’s been through. A couple small ones from his hands and a couple on his arms. You’ve seen them sometimes when he’s had his shirt off or when you shower together.
He was curious about why you were doing this in the first place. His eyes sparkled with affection as you kiss and caress the lines of each scar with tenderness. He'd lean in to your touch, letting you do as you please, appreciating every second and minute of it. He felt so appreciated and special that he will definitely return the favor back to you.
Every kiss on his scars reminds him that each battle he’s faced has been worth it. In this lifetime, he has found you again after losing you and enduring so much. Now, he has a loving partner to come home to- where he feels cherished, complete, and truly at peace.
────୨ৎ────
You were curled up on the couch, flipping through different shows and movies in search of the perfect one to enjoy while waiting for you and Xavier’s food. Just then, Xavier joins you, settling his head comfortably in your lap, a contented sigh escaping his lips.
“Hi honey,” He says softly, his voice warm as he cups your face. His fingers gently tracing small circles on your cheek.
“Hi baby” you reply, nuzzling against his hand and placing your own atop his. Your heart flutters as you glance down at him. You took his hand, planting soft kisses along his inner palm before intertwining your fingers with his.
He watches you with a playful smile, utterly smitten by how adorable you were. Small affections made him feel loved and cherished. As you flipped his hand to face yours, you noticed the small scars that marked his skin- stories he briefly mentioned he’s gotten from childhood and battles with Wanderers from the past.
“Did you really get these when you were just a child?” you asked as he nodded. “A couple were from mishandling my sword while I was training,” he explained, earning a breathy chuckle.
You draw his hand closer, your lips finding those small scars.
“Hmm? What are you doing? They don’t hurt anymore,” He says so innocently, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. As you pull your lips away from his hand, you look down, meeting his gaze.
“I know,” you reply, your voice softening. “You’ve come some far. Those battles shape you into this strong and brave man.” A gentle smile graced your lips as he returned your smile, warmth flooding over him.
“No, it’s all those battles that have made everything worth it to have you in the end.” His voice filled with sincerity. Unable to resist, he sits up, leaning in. His eyes soften as he closes the distance between you two. Your breath caught as his lips met yours, tender and sweet, feeling the warmth of his love wrap around you.
Tumblr media
Zayne:
You were no stranger to the scars on his arms. You've memorized every part of his body by now. He always kept them hidden whenever he wore his coat, long sleeves, or cardigan. Whether or not he was insecure about them or not, you wanted to make sure every inch of him was loved.
He was a bit surprised when you first kissed the scars on his arms. When your soft lips brushed against his scars, he melted at your touch. He feels a warmth spread through his body that brings him comfort and so so unconditionally loved. As you planted gentle kisses along his arm, a smile curled on his lips.
He loves it and finds it endearing whenever you do, making sure to give you the same amount of kisses back or more to remind you how much equally he loves you back.
────୨ৎ────
You rested your head on Zayne’s lap, the TV fading into a dull hum as he immersed himself in the pages of his book. With one hand holding the book, his other hand rests against your head to act as a pillow. Curiosity piqued you as you shifted slightly to play with his hand, captivated by the contract between the sizes of your hands. That’s when your gaze fell on the scar peeking from his sleeve.
As he continues to read, you gently push his sleeve up, tracing the outline of his scar before moving to the one beside it. You remembered him telling you he’d gotten these from childhood and how he can’t fully remember how he got them. A bittersweet ache fills your heart as you think of the childhood you both missed out on, wishing you could have been there to ease his pain and take care of him.
Drawn by an impulse, you inch closer and closer to his arm, planting a delicate trail of kisses on his scars. The soft warmth of your lips draws his attention to you. As he glances down, a small smile curls onto his lips.
“What are you doing, my love?” He asks softly, closing his book and setting it aside. His free hand brushes back the stray strands of your hair that had fallen over your face, tucking them gently behind your ear.
You rolled over to meet his gaze, your heart swelling at the sight of his soft smile and the warmth in his eyes, all just for you.
“Seeing these makes me wish I could have taken away your pain back then.” He’d sigh, cupping your face, his gaze continues to be filled with warmth.
“What matters is that you’re here with me now.” He replies softly as you shift closer, sitting up to rest your head against his chest. “Just having you here makes everything feel right,” He says with a soft smile on his face.
“I’m grateful that we eventually found our way to each other in the end.” He gently lifted your chin with his finger, drawing your gaze back to his before pressing a sweet and tender kiss to your lips.
( astra when i catch you astra.....)
Tumblr media
Rafayel:
He is no stranger to you kissing his scars. You did it once when you kissed his paper cuts on his finger and he wanted you to keep doing it again and again.
Acts as if he's touch-starved. His reasoning would be one he loves it, two he loves and craves your touch, three he feels seen. You’ll still love him no matter what flaws he has or what he becomes.
Although there were some scars that randomly appeared on his arms, hinting untold stories. Initially you assume they might have stemmed from his artistic pursuits and whenever you bring it up, he brushes the topic aside.
Knowing Raf, you sense there’s more beneath the surface, he’s never been one to shy away from discussing his body. But you choose not to press on it and you’ll wait patiently for him to open up in his own time. For now, your love will be his comfort to whatever untold stories those scars hold on him.
────୨ৎ────
“Ouch! My hand!” He whines, flailing his hand in the air as if that might chase away the sting. You walk over to his stool, where he’s currently suffering from another paper cut from his sketchbook.
“Cutie,” he pouts, raising his finger to your face with a hopeful expression. “Kiss it, please.” You can’t help but chuckle as you take his hand in yours. You press a gentle kiss over the tiny wound to make his pain go away.
“There. It’ll be gone in a few seconds, Raf.” Just to be sure, you place another soft kiss on the same spot and notice a faint scar peeking from under his dress sleeve.
“Another one Raf? Where’d you get this scar?” You ask, gently pulling his arm to roll up his sleeve and examine it. He shrugs, a hint of mystery in his eyes. “I dunno, it just appeared out of nowhere. I can’t be too focused on that if I’m always focused on you cutie.” You snort. tracing the outline of the scar with your fingertip before leaning in to place a tender kiss on it.
He smiles, his nebula colored eyes sparkling as if they imitated space and the stars. “Are you trying to make it go away cutie?” he asks, tilting his head.
“Yes,” you reply softly, “but it’s also for the times I couldn’t be there to kiss it better.” He swears his heart can leap out of his chest right now and do backflips from how adorable you are. He reaches out to cup your face, his free arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer to him.
“Then I guess you just have to stay with me all the time," he says, a mix of playfulness and seriousness in his voice. “What if I get hurt again? Who’s going to kiss it all better? He gazes into your eyes, a soft smile breaking across his face.
He gently pulls you onto his lap, your faces meeting each other's level as you meet each other’s gaze. “You know,” he says, his voice gentle, “I could get used to you kissing all my scars. You make everything feel so much better.”
With a playful twinkle in his eye, he cups your cheek, drawing you closer until your lips brush against each other in a sweet, lingering kiss.
Tumblr media
Sylus:
You’ve seen the scar on his chest before, whether it was during your shared showers or a cozy night in your shared bed. It often peeks out from under his robe, nestled by his sternum. He doesn’t mention much about how he got it, so you decided not to pry further into it.
The first time you did it was when you both got ready for bed. As you nestled your head against his chest, your fingers gently trace the scar that marked his skin. He’d hum in response from your touch as you pressed a soft kiss to it. He’d let out a silent laugh, finding you to be oh so adorable. He'd ruffle your hair before placing a sweet kiss on the top of your head.
You'd do it a lot more often after you found out he enjoys your small acts of affection towards him. You'd do it any chance you'd get.
In the steamy shower, you'd go on your tippy toes to kiss his scar and he'd respond back by gently placing a finger under your chin to draw you in for a soft tender kiss in return.
He loves it when you kiss the scar on his chest. You’re the only person he can be himself and vulnerable around, so doing an intimate act like that makes him feel safe and loved.
────୨ৎ────
Sylus was already in bed, his head resting gently against the headboard. His eyes were closed, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest was evident to the exhaustion from a long day of work. Not wanting to disturb his peace, you quietly climbed on top of him, resting your head near his heart, hearing the soft, rapid thumps of his heartbeat. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your waist, drawing you closer.
“Goodnight Sy,” you whisper, planting a tender kiss on his chest. Your gaze falls upon the scar that you knew so well, it’s story etched into his skin.
“Goodnight, sweetie,” he murmured back, his voice a low, soothing whisper as his fingers traced gentle circles on your waist.
You let your fingertips wander over the scar, feeling the slight indentation. He responds with a soft hum, his eyes still closed. “Can’t sleep?” he asked quietly, his hands still anchoring you on to him. You hum in reply, your mind drifting back to the story behind his scar.
-
“Where did you get this scar, Sy?” you asked, as the warm water pours over both of you in the shower.
He glances down at you, his gaze softening as he focuses on your face, careful not to let the soap get into your eyes. “That,” he paused for a moment, “is the reason I’m still here. But that’s all in the past now, sweetie.”
-
You remember not prying further as you traced the scar’s curves. Leaning closer, you pressed a soft kiss to his scar, earning a breathy chuckle from him as he tangles his fingers in your hair.
“I’m glad you’re still here with me, Sy,” you whisper, continuing to caress the scar with your fingertip.
He shifted slightly, pulling you closer, your eyes meeting his crimson ones. His gaze was sleepy yet filled with warmth. If his heart beats any faster, he swears his heart can burst out of his chest.
“And I’m grateful to always have you by my side.” A soft smile curls to his lips as he cups your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek before pulling you forward to him, giving you a sweet and passionate kiss.
2K notes · View notes
kenjakusbraincum · 1 year ago
Note
can you pls write something about reader being sick and like not the cough and cold kind of sick- like really really sick, and sukuna realising how much he doesn't want to lose her to this sickness and how if she dies, he'll be alone again..🥺
You have NO idea how much I love this idea!!! I did go a bit overboard with it cause I love suffering though 👍 Still, this was SO much fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Vows
Sukuna x Reader
Tumblr media
Word count: 4.5k
Tags/warnings: gn! reader, true form! sukuna, master/pet dynamic, fluff but most importantly ANGST, mentions of weight loss, mentions of violence, implied nsfw, reader dies in the end :( (sorry)
Tumblr media
It's not the first time Sukuna has been made aware of your mortality. He recalls many instances when he's been reminded that you are human. Finite. The first time he wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed with calculation while you were laying under him, and you looked up at him in fear for your life. Your little hand couldn't even wrap around his wrist, much less provide resistance. Or when he'd pull your hair a little too roughly, and hear a crack in your delicate spine. When you'd get sick, and humbly refuse his healing. So little as a tummy ache had you writhing on your bed.
You are so weak, so small, clinging to life like there was anything for you in it, beyond Sukuna. By all means he hates all of these things. So what witchery is this, and why does he care about you so much? Why does he keep you for years, and why does your company bring him comfort he hasn't ever known in his lifetime?
Still, as much as he cares, he doesn't notice when it starts. He's trained you to tolerate pain, after all. It's no wonder you hesitate to tell him. Little things like tummyaches and colds occur to you all the time anyways, and you never complain. Sure, you've grown closer to Sukuna, but he was still your master, and the rules he instilled in you from the start were always fresh in your mind, not to be crossed. Bothering him with everything that feels off always seemed inappropriate.
And Sukuna is just like that. If you're not screaming or crying, he won't know you're in pain. But he notices that you're acting off. And how he reacts really doesn't help your case, or encourage you to speak up about your condition. ''I don't have all day. What is wrong with you?'', he sneers when he catches you pacing too far behind him.
So you just sleep longer and preserve energy for when you are with him. You don't skip around as much anymore, or spend time doing your hobbies. Food doesn't taste so great anymore. You have a cough that gives you sleepless nights because it just won't calm down. And the time you owe Sukuna starts to feel like an obligation. You start to dread it. Dread slipping up, dread annoying him or failing to satisfy him. Dread being disposable.
When things start getting worse, it's hard to hide it even from him. He was taking you from behind one night, and you were grateful he couldn't see the look on your face. You thought you could do it. Sukuna was always demanding, but he would never force you to do anything. If only you told him before you felt yourself struggling for air, and your chest closing in on itself in tightness. You reached one hand back, frantically grabbing his wrist.
''Feathers, feathers!'', words came out as gasps, and you slumped forward when he let you go. You were panicked and crying by then, this kind of discomfort being foreign even to you, even after weeks of pain behind you. He hovered next to you with a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't even being that rough.
''What's wrong? Tell me.'', he said, and reached his hand to feel the warmth of your tears streaming down your face. He swiped your cheek gently. He didn't seem mad at all. Why didn't you say anything from the start?
''I just feel so sick.'', you muster up in between sobs, and shut your eyes. You were too embarrassed to even look at him.
''I see.''. His hand leaves your face, and he traces it from your neck down your spine. The pain subsided slowly, allowing you to relax and find comfort in his arms.
But the effects of his healing were short lived. Just a week later the feeling of fatigue creeps back into your life. Manageable, but lingering. And the cough persists. And it gets on Sukuna's nerves too. He's been quite patient with you, but his patience was reaching it's limit.
You're sitting by his throne as you often do, and as hard as you try to hold the cough in, you just can't help it. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, turning you to him. And he looks at you with all four, terrifying eyes. ''Can you shut up?''
''I'm sorry, I'm trying -'', you stutter, but just end up coughing more. He doesn't wait for you to stop.
''Get out of here.'', and pushes you away. You stumble down the pile of bones and fall, landing on your hands and knees. You don't remember him being this cruel to you in a long time. You look back at him with teary eyes, and he looks back like the merciless monster he is. The villagers awaiting him moved to make space for your fall, taking note of the tense situation.
That day, Sukuna sends word that he doesn't want to see you until you get better. You're forbidden from going outside again, in fear that that is making your 'cold' worse. It's a lonely week in your room, until Sukuna starts to crave you again. It didn't take him a while, counting the couple days he spent convincing himself he doesn't miss you. He does. So when he sends word for you again, and the servants come back to him saying you're still not feeling well... he's worried. So worried he comes to see it for himself.
Sukuna rarely comes to your room. It's the only space you have for yourself, and he doesn't want to take that away from you. Your room is modest. You have a bed, a carpet, and a couple shelves to house the books he's gifted you. There's a desk where you can eat and read, and a doorway to the garden. There's an empty glass of water and a napkin next to your bed. You're still sleeping, but the door shutting behind him wakes you up, so he doesn't get to enjoy observing you in your natural habitat for long.
It's not the first time doors opening and closing woke you up. But you know this time is different. The servants are always quickly shuffling around the room, cleaning up and moving around. Uraume clanks with plates. There is no noise now, other than your strained breathing and a cough brewing in the back of your throat. Besides, the aura that Sukuna brings with him everywhere he goes is recognizable. Especially to you. Heavy.
You turn around, and meet the gaze of his four eyes. ''Master...'', you struggle to sit up, and even a little action like that has spots forming in your vision. Then a coughing fit hits you. You pick up the napkin and put it to your mouth.
Sukuna sees your whole body strain with the effort of coughing. And when you call him master, even your voice sounds different. He knows your morning voice. He missed hearing it, but this... this is not it. You sit with your head hung low, staring at the napkin between your hands. There's a fresh splatter of blood on it. But Sukuna scares you more than the progression of your illness.
''Are you mad at me?'', you ask timidly, meeting his gaze.
''I'm concerned.", he says and sits next to you. You curl up to make space for him. "Two weeks is a long time for a frail human like you to be sick.", he looks at you, scanning your form up and down.
"I rested and drank every tea Uraume told me to!", your defense mechanism kicks in, and you start babbling.
Sukuna dismisses you with a hand and a pained facial expression. "I know.", he says. His brows are furrowed now, and he's looking at the ground, lost in thought.
You feel guilty for annoying him again. You feel guilty for the whole thing, getting sick, draining the energy it takes him to heal you, robbing him of the time with you that he deserves. Owns. He is very generous with the way he treats you, having all that in mind.
You tug on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Master... You deserve better.", and you're sobbing again. Sukuna gives you a pathetic look, but smiles as he pulls you into his embrace.
"Silly pet. I can survive a couple weeks without your assistance.", he says, rubbing your shoulder.
You run your fingers against the back of his hand mindlessly, not knowing how to respond. Caressing his knuckles, bones, veins... feeling his nails and their sharp tips against your sensitive skin. When you bring his palm up to your lips, your kiss stains it red with blood.
-
You still sleep with Sukuna sometimes. Less frequently, only on days when you feel well enough, and those are rare. You've lost weight by now, sickness making itself visible on your body. You're sitting on his lap and clinging to your robes, scared that he won't like you as much, that you won't live up to his standards. But Sukuna's demeanor about your illness has changed, as he seemed to sense something unusual about it. He flips you over so gently, like you're made of glass, and peppers kisses from your neck downwards, slowly undressing you as much as you allow him. When he takes you, he's so careful. Constantly checking you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. You feel so loved and relaxed, and pleasure comes so easy when you're in this state. It's not the first time Sukuna is this caring with you in bed, but this time is different. This time you can't help but feel like he's saying goodbye.
He holds you afterwards, tracing his fingers over the ridges of your spine and your shoulders. You were always little in his grasp, but now that he feels your protruding bones under his fingertips, you seem all the more vulnerable.
"Will you kill me?", you ask, breaking the silence.
Sukuna frowns. "Nonsense. Why would I do that?"
There's a gulp in your throat. "It won't be long before I can't even do this. I won't be of any use to you then...", you say.
"Stop.", he says sternly. "There's a lot more to you than what you provide me with in bed."
You smile to yourself, but there's still a hole in your chest. Your statement is still true, and you aren't comforted. But this is Sukuna, and you know that he's offered you quite a lot even with that little bit of reassurance. To your surprise, he speaks again.
"Don't upset yourself. It's been a long time since killing you crossed my mind.", he says. "Save the energy for something else."
You nod and thank him. Just moments later, you're asleep. Quicker than ever before, he notes. You usually love it when he lets you cuddle and talk to him. You would force your eyes open when you were sleepy, just to enjoy it longer.
He feels guilty. He's your master, he's responsible for your well being. Yet nothing he does seems to help you long term. Healing you is temporary and he knows that without accessing the source, it will never work. If he could, he would find what was making you sick and rip it out of you with his bare hands, crush it with the force of his palm. He would have to look deeper, open you, and for once, he thinks he can't open a human being. He thinks of you trashing, screaming, and worst of all, looking into his eyes. Just the thought of you like that makes his chest feel like a gaping cavity. Worst of all, he's sure you would let him. He's sure you would forgive him for spilling your blood, and find comfort in his arms again. If you survived, that is. What has he done to you? And to himself?
Now, your head rests on his chest, and you're snoring lightly. For once, a repetitive noise like that doesn't annoy him. For once, he wishes he could listen to it every night. One day, that noise will be the only thing audibly confirming you're still alive.
-
Months pass and you're only getting worse. You barely leave your room now, too weak to even do so. You eat little, and it's showing in your sunken cheeks and eyes. You feel yourself withering away, loosing color, drying like a dying flower. Sukuna is in grief. He struggles to look at you, and visiting you falls heavy on him every time. He always finds himself thinking afterwards. Regretting that he let himself get this attached, wishing that he could simply forget you. But it doesn't work that way.
He goes to see you, after avoiding you for a week. He's Sukuna, he doesn't have any shame. You're sleeping, like you usually are when he comes to visit you. Your snoring is laboured, and it sounds painful. This time, the doors and the silence don't wake you up. He watches you, curled up under a stack of blankets, rising and falling with your struggles to breathe. How foolish he was, to think forgetting you would be as easy as avoiding you for days. How evil he was, trying to forget you while you are still alive under his wing, still his responsibility. Still his.
He sits next to you and leans over you, fingertips ghosting over your face. The snoring stops and you flutter your eyes open, turning in bed and feeling his body next to yours. You smirk at him, eyes adjusting to the light, and smile when you recognize him. ''Master.'', your arms wrap around his neck as you welcome him, your voice dry, but lively as you beckon him closer. ''I missed you.''.
He comes down to plant a kiss to your forehead. ''I missed you too, darling.''. Oh, the things that escape his mouth when he's alone with you. He cups your face, enjoying how much healthier you look with a smile on your face. ''Feeling any better?'', he rubs your cheek, lingering closely above your face.
You nod, but both of you know you only feel better because you saw him. Still, the little surge of happiness that brings you gives you more energy than you've had the whole week. You wiggle to the edge of the bed, making space and inviting him to join you. Sukuna lies down, hooking one arm underneath your neck and pulling you flush against him.
You wrap your arm around him and lean your head against his shoulder. He's still as big as you remember him, unfaltering in the face of your illness. It's comforting. ''You didn't visit in a while. Were you busy?'', you ask, stroking his back. ''How were your days?''
''Monotone.'', he says. ''The villagers bring remedies for you every day, and wish for you to get well.'' It's no wonder. So many times, Sukuna found himself hesitating to kill just because you were sitting on his knee, dressed in something too pretty to be splattered with blood. In the local villages, word spread that you have ''domesticated'' Sukuna. As if such a thing was possible. Or was it?
''Oh?'', you smile. ''I didn't think they would notice my absence.''. You always were supposed to be Sukuna's accessory and nothing more. Remedies and good wishes make it sound like you're more important than just a pet. So it really is that obvious...
''They did.'', he says, and lowers his head, brushing his nose against your face. ''Some took that as an opportunity to gift me new pets.''
You blink at him, a bit taken aback by his honesty. You keep smiling anyways. ''Did you take any?'', you ask, and he sees nothing but genuine curiosity in your eyes. The truth is, you've had a lot of time to think about your place in Sukuna's mansion. You knew, especially in sickness, that you were never entitled to exclusivity with him. You knew that at some point you would have to be replaced, just by the virtue of being a mortal. A human, who would age and become ugly, wrinkled and useless. You were just unlucky enough to meet this fate sooner than you should've.
Sukuna sighs, the weight of the conversation shifting to him. ''Not to bed, no.'', he says.
You're quiet while you think of what to say. You still have a habit of picking words when you're with Sukuna, but the times when he would punish you for improper formulation are far behind you. "Why not?", you settle. You hope the implication is there, that you wouldn't be so mad even if he did.
Why not? Because he thinks it might break him. Because the image of someone else in your place, under him, feels unnatural and wrong. He thinks the guilt might eat him alive. For once in centuries, someone else's needs come before Sukuna's. He is gone, so far gone. You've raised his standards, and he's not sure anyone he takes now will be able to live up to them. Besides, training a new pet to fit your mold would take years, and even then... He couldn't train someone to love him. Not like you do.
''I wouldn't want you to hold back because of me.'', you say, and he realizes he's been quiet for too long. Years ago, if you dared to imply that Sukuna would do such a thing as hold back because of you, that he cared, you would've been minced meat ready for dinner. Now, he looks down at you tenderly when you say it. Well, a tender look from Sukuna is a docile one. You've gotten used to the way that Sukuna communicates love. Subtly, innocuously.
''Worry about getting well, pet.'', he shuts down the conversation, and moves away from you, sitting back on the bed. ''Any wishes? Food? Activities?'', he asks, and feels your forehead with the back of his hand.
Food? No, but... ''I'd like you to stay, please.'', you say, and take his hand with the two of yours, feeling it up with your thumbs.
Sukuna resists the urge to roll his eyes, knowing the thought of annoying him would upset you greatly. ''That's a given. Anything else?''
You pretend to think, then just babble your favorite food. Sukuna takes your order to Uraume. But when he comes back, you're already asleep again. He waits by your side, but you don't wake, so eventually he leaves. By the evening, the plate of your favorite food remains untouched.
-
You can't leave the bed on your own anymore. Sukuna carries you outside when you're feeling good enough. You barely have the strength to latch onto him securely. Still, it's hard to slip out of the grasp of his four arms. He says you've gotten pale. You lay in his lap and bask in the sun, while he tells you about his day or reads a book out loud for you to enjoy. You wish you could talk to him more, but your voice leaves you as days of endless coughing wreck your throat. No herbs and teas ease your condition anymore. You wait for your final day.
And Sukuna doesn't know when he's given up on the idea that you might get better. But he starts spending whole days with you, leaving your side only to sleep in his bed. He tends to almost all your needs personally. You think that if you asked him to get on his knees for you, he would. He is not familiar with this ache that brews in his chest when he looks to his side and doesn't see you there. It feels violating. To be as powerful as he is, and yet completely helpless in the face of the sickness that drains you in front of his very eyes.
He plays with your thinning hair one morning, and you look at him from his lap, as adoringly as always. ''Isn't it funny?.'', you say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you. ''I always imagined dying by your hand.'', you kiss his hand again, planting your dry, blue lips against his knuckles. ''Who would have thought?''.
You, you little human. You made him feel like a fool, like a coward. You made him feel powerless. Who could ever get away unscathed with making Sukuna feel like this? The thought of killing you now, even out of mercy, fills him with horror. He thinks he couldn't live carrying the burden of your death on his back. It's already hard for him as is.
When he's not with you, he withers away in his room, waiting. And when the servants finally come, and tell him you're at your last strengths, he feels as tense as he feels relieved. The servants shake in fear of his reaction, and he simply dismisses them. In a thousand years of his existence, he doesn't remember having to prepare to enter a room. His hand trembles as he brings it up to push the door open. He dreads what awaits him inside.
He expected blood, hysteria, chaos, yet there's none of it when he walks in. Just the pained noises of your breathing. A servant, your favorite, sits by your side and wipes sweat off your forehead. She talks to you in a comforting tone and pats your head gently. When he walks in the room, she lowers her head and moves to leave. It's only a second, but he sees the sad look on your face. ''Stay.'', he orders, and the servant bows and thanks him.
You move your attention to him, raising your hand to greet him weakly. He picks it up and bends down to kiss it. There's tears in your eyes as he settles into a seat next to you, and you open your mouth in an attempt to say something.
''Easy now.'', he shushes you, and helps you into his lap. You lean back, looking at him through a blur. His features appear even more doubled through the tears, and you still find his beauty mesmerizing. Your master. Your own little god and protector. Although he regrets it, you've never claimed the title of his spouse. Yet, he still stuck by your side, until parted by death. In sickness and in health.
He wipes your tears, and the mouth he conjures onto his hand kisses your forehead. One set of his hands caresses your face, the other massages the tension out of your bony shoulders. Sukuna knows how important it is for you to pass in peace. He doesn't want to curse you, or have despair turn you into a curse. "Relax now.", his voice is so soothing, as if lulling you to sleep. "It won't be long". You weep. What did an ordinary human like you do to deserve this honor? To be comforted on their death bed by a god. To be guided to death by him.
"Master.", you sob. "I'm so scared..."
Delicate touch against your skin. Sharp nails grazing your cheek ever so slightly, just barely enough to make their presence known. "Have no fear.", Sukuna looms over you like a snowdrop. "Where you go now, pain won't follow.". You speak to him a little longer. Tell him all the things you always wanted to tell him, but were scared of the consequences. Dangerous words, ones that were rarely associated with Sukuna. Love. And Sukuna is attentive, so human. Your blinking slows and you find comfort in his voice, as he returns every loving word back to you. Your pained breathing follows, and your eyelids are so heavy. But the sight of him is so hypnotizing, you wish you never had to look away. "You are so brave, my little dove. Go now, be free.". You were too good for this wretched palace anyways. The sight of him is etched in your memory as you close your eyes. "It was a pleasure to have you by my side.", you listen, feeling control over your body slip through your fingers. When you can't move, or feel his touch, you still hear his calm voice. "When you're ready, come back to me. I'll be waiting for your return.". Then everything is quiet, for you and for him. The servants cries are muffled by the sheets, where she has her head pressed by your side.
The hallways, silent except for the busy tapping of feet. Outside, the wind blows petals off of blooming flowers, leaving them bare and stranded. Autumn is here to carry you away.
Servants hold their breath when Sukuna walks by. One wrong look at him and the walls would be painted red. Just like before. Before you. And it's not long before Sukuna looks like a monster again - red eyes and a permanent frown etched on his face. Villagers bring bouquets, and lay them to the right of his throne, where you used to sit. He stares them all down, and only for a moment thinks that maybe, humans are not the scum he thought they were. But then he remembers, they only mourn you because you held him back from his destructive tendencies. Scum.
And he kills again. The first is a villager from afar, where news of your passing hasn't reached. Ripped to shreds for mentioning you. The women who screamed, their blood soaks the carpets and seeps through the wooden floor, dripping down to the cellars. He feels like himself again, unhinged, unbeatable.
Until the day is over, and he goes back to his empty room. His cold, empty bed, and the old habit of reaching for you in his sleep, only to grab nothing instead. And the crocheted figures of the two of you on his nightstand, watching him as he struggles to sleep alone. He can't bear it. So he leaves, and doesn't come back for days, weeks, months.
Smoke clouds the skies on the horizon once again, after years and years of peace and clarity. As far as the eye stretches, the world will know of Sukuna's wrath. But as thrilling as it feels to conquer again, when the village is burned and ash covers the grass on the ground, the thought of you still lingers. Your devastated eyes the first time he's killed before you. The first time he's felt guilty about his monstrous nature. When he comes back, no one's warm embrace awaits him. No one's there to brighten up his day. No amount of blood shed and villages burned replace the emptiness you left behind in his heart.
The grief settles, and sits heavy in Sukuna's chest, as he assumes position in his lonely throne again, and gazes at the row of people waiting to beg, talk, offer... bore him. Another eternity of boredom. An eternity of picking through thousands of humans, in vain hopes of finding you again. In vain hopes of recognizing you, even if it's lifetimes from now, when the last memory of your face has already faded from his mind. When generations change, and the thought of a monster like Sukuna being capable of tenderness vanishes. When the fire in his chest, ignited by love, is already a memory so distant, that recalling it feels surreal.
Maybe he will forget you by then. Maybe times will harden him again, and the idea of a pet becoming his lover will make him laugh. But for now, the thought of finding you in a crowd, taking you in his arms and never letting go, is his comfort and safe place. For now, he will wait for you. As long as it takes, like a stone, unyielding against the passing of time.
4K notes · View notes
sweetkpopmusings · 4 months ago
Text
cuddly jisung <3
a/n: ahh !!!! jisung is just a sweet babygirl and i love him DEARLY ! i’ve been in my jisung feels all day, so i needed to write this request <333 i also may be definitely am tipsy, so i’m sitting in front of my computer like 🥺💗thinking of cuddly jisung <3333 i wanted to try a different format for this one, so let me know your thoughts ! :-) pics not mine~~
a/n p.s.: i accidentally deleted the original ask where this request was sent (i'm so sorry!!!), so i hope it finds the original requester, wherever you are now :-(((( </3
content: fluff, established relationship | wc: 0.5k | warnings: none really! | pairing: bf!jisung x gn!reader | requests: open
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sleepy jisung♡‧₊˚
jisung gets so so so clingy the moment his eyelids droop from sleepiness. if he so much as yawns when you’re nearby, he’ll be glued to your side within seconds. he’s such a whiny baby too. if you push him away, he’ll threaten to cry, his big brown eyes glistening, murmuring why won’t you cuddle me? it does not matter if you are in the middle of folding clothes or working. to jisung, the only cure for his restless state is to be in your arms, and he’ll do whatever he can to snuggle into your embrace.  
excited jisung♡‧₊˚ 
when jisung gets a burst of energy, he is bouncing right at your side. did you get good news? his hands are on your shoulders while he’s jumping up and down, screaming with joy. did they have your favorite snacks at the store? he’s wrapping his arms around you saying i can’t believe it! we’re so lucky! did you smile at him cutely? he’s holding your face in both of his hands, cooing praises of how adorable you are. please return the favor and hold his face in your hands, for that will send jisung to an entirely different dimension of happiness. in the end, any time jisung’s eyes are sparkling, his hand is searching for yours, ready to give an enthusiastic squeeze or pull you into a hug to remind you how lucky he feels to have you around.
stressed jisung♡‧₊˚ 
it doesn’t take long into the relationship for you to know signals of jisung’s stress. if his shoulders are slumped or his walk is slow, you call his name and outstretch your arms. every time, he melts into you, sighing in relief for the first time in forever. with your fingers twirling his hair and massaging his scalp, he’ll spill all his worries and thank you endlessly. up close and able to hear your heartbeat, he remembers that, with you by his side, he can endure anything. you are his safe space, his cure, and he reminds you every day that he’ll always open his arms to hold you and protect you from harm.
sad jisung♡‧₊˚ 
jisung gets especially cuddly when he’s feeling down. he appreciates anything you do to lift his mood, but the number one cure is to bury his head into your hair or shoulder or neck or chest, safe from whatever is hurting him. this urge to lose himself in you heightens whenever he misses you. he’ll message you daily, telling you how much he loves you and keeping a tally of how many hugs he owes you. once you’re within arms reach, he’s wrapping his body around you and never letting go. even if there are tears in his eyes, he’s whispering i love you, y/n.
lovestruck jisung♡‧₊˚
jisung is in awe of you from the moment you meet, and that grows stronger the more he gets to know you. when you two have time alone together, he gravitates toward you, settling into your warmth. frequently, you’ll catch him staring at you while you’re watching something together because he cannot believe how real and beautiful you are. he’s a big fan of playing with your hands and hair too. it’s a simple gesture, but it’s his way of appreciating even the smallest details of you. truly, when he is overwhelmed by how much he loves you, he’ll hold you however possible and have the biggest, sweetest, most heartwarming grin on his face because you are his favorite person in the world.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
494 notes · View notes
stxrvel · 21 days ago
Text
disclosure (6)
series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. platonic ot7 x f!reader for now content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, angst, reader becomes sus, fighting (in the wrong way), angry and mean jin? self-doubt. a/n. hi guysssssss!!! sorry it's taking me this long always, but i finally finished this part! i actually just finished it and it's almost 2am and i have to go to work in fivehours. i'm publishing this part as it is and maybe tomorrow if i have the time i'll look at it again, bc i'm really exhausted right now. and also please forgive me if there are any mistakes in the text;((((. but i hope you guys enjoy this 7k monster of a chapter and i'll see you next time!!
series masterlist | bts masterlist | previous | next
Tumblr media
The fourth book of your saga was a reflection of everything you had gone through when you moved with your family to the capital. You finished the third book when you had barely been in the city for a month and maybe that's why it didn't have a happy ending and why everyone who had read the trilogy had been devastated with that ending. It wasn't something you had planned from the beginning, but it wasn't something that ruined the plot either. It was actually much better than you had planned.
And when you finally finished with the trilogy, starting to write again wasn't hard, especially with so many mixed emotions and so much repressed pain coming back to the surface uninvited.
Maybe you hadn't been in connection with your strong feelings since then, when the city constantly reminded you that you had lost the only people you considered your true friends and the pain of their absence and the harsh reality was a knife burying itself in your chest over and over again. You hadn't felt this much since the moment you realized that they were able to live their lives without you, but you had to go through the mourning of losing them.
You hadn't felt this much since then, until that moment when, having been just a day since you had decided you would take the path of healing, you had to reopen the draft of your fourth book and find all those angry paragraphs, spit out words, piled up letters and whole pages filled with pure rage and pain; of disappointment and realization… of betrayal.
“Are you going to start again already? Don't you think you deserve a break?”
The words Yuna had spoken to you that morning were echoing in your head from the moment you read the first words of this draft and the memories began to well up, emotions making your hair stand on end and your throat close up.
It was almost funny to remember how incredibly angry you were when you first arrived in the city.
The city, with posters of Jungkook's face on every corner, with his performances on some screens or just teenagers talking about him and whispering about his music, it was practically impossible to escape it. The city, with radios blaring Yoongi's songs, in a cab or on public transportation, interviews blaring on TVs in shopping malls. The city, with the international news, which echoed so much, about the spectacular promises of modeling. The country couldn't be prouder to have representatives of that caliber, because the moment Taehyung and Jimin overtook the West and broke the international barrier, it was only a matter of time before the others followed suit and completely changed the idea of entertainment and media in the country.
The first months in the city were nauseating, when you had to get used to and overcome your emotions the hard way, fighting against the aggressive tide that all the time tried to drown you, and that was noticeable in every word and every scene of that book, and you were almost sure that if any of them read it, they would know immediately. If they wanted to know anything about you, if they were really interested, there would be no better way than through your books; in no other situation would you be so vulnerable.
You wondered, for a moment, if any of them would have read any of the books by now. If Namjoon would remember when you asked him for strange words to describe emotions and now they were captured in those impressions, or when you asked Jin and Hoseok for their opinion about the complex construction of your world and each of their peculiar and crazy details can be found in those pages. Just as your books had all the pieces of you, it also had crumbs of them, and you wondered if they would notice if they read it.
Don't you think you deserve a break?
Maybe you do. That's why you had decided to close that cycle once and for all, and there was no better way to do it than to finally start with the edition of this book. Of this fourth book, so strong in its toughness and determination, so vulnerable in its rage and palpable pain.
It was the cleanest and purest and truest version of you.
But as much as you deserved it, it felt more like punishment. Reliving those emotions and evoking those memories caused you more anguish and you didn't know if you could face a kind of shock therapy like that to finally let go.
“The editors said you'd be here.”
You saw Choi Dohyun standing, leaning against the door frame above the computer screen that still displayed the title of the first chapter of your fourth book. On a Wednesday at barely eight o'clock in the morning, the great CEO decided to set aside a few minutes of his busy time to gratify you with his presence.
His calm, serene and carefree expression was the contrast to the swirl of emotions that ran through that room, rising from the crown of your head. You could almost tell he wasn't venturing into the office because he could feel the tension radiating from your position at the desk. He must have even seen it on your face.
You sighed and barely waved at him, running your hands over your face, trying to ease your tense muscles a little.
“Is there a specific reason why you don't want the editors to read the book?”
Choi Dohyun was a mystery. You only knew about him from the three-hour conversation you had the day before, besides the strange looks he cast at Yoongi from his office entrance. He had shown himself to be a very open person and it was clear that he was an expert at making things work his way. You knew he had agreed to many of your conditions because what he would get in return was bigger than what it would cost him, which really wasn't too much, just enough to maintain a level of creative freedom that would allow you to access editorial support when you saw fit —because you knew that once you handed it over, it would no longer be entirely yours—and often businessmen reflected their own personalities in how they negotiated a deal.
Dohyun tried to come across as a fairly personable person; he tried to be understanding, communicative and open-minded, so much so that he reminded you of the comfortable security of an older brother. However, you could tell in that meeting that he held back too much; that he had hated the way Yuna used to interrupt him to ask him questions or how your brother would put too many buts in his mouth and try to get information out of him that he shouldn't give away. You could tell he was impatient, that he really expected the meeting to last less than twenty minutes because he was sure you would sign the contract blindly as soon as you saw the profits you'd gain from the distribution and sale of your books. You also noticed, in case it wasn't obvious already, that he preferred to be in control as long as the situation and the people around him allowed it, for his convenience. If he gave in on several occasions, you knew it had been because he was very, very aware of everything that benefited him.
There were two options: Choi Dohyun wore a mask constantly, or Choi Dohyun was a fraud.
“I just wanted to read it one more time… before handing it over. I won't take long.”
“It's okay. No problem.” Dohyun finally walked into the room, the office he had handed you for whenever you decided to go to his publishing house. You didn't even know writers had that option; you didn't know if it was common, but he allowed it. He had also offered you a writing kit that included a typewriter that looked quite expensive, and although you hadn't accepted it, there it was in one of the corners of the office. Dohyun sat across from you, glancing at the few things you had brought from home to make the place a little more pleasant. “I understand that sometimes it's hard to separate yourself from your work. It's a part of you, after all. A kind of vulnerability that not everyone sees.”
That was the kind of thing that kept Dohyun's true nature a mystery. His stoic expression as he blurted out words of comfort. It almost felt like running sandpaper over cement. Not that you needed to figure him out, because at the end of the day he was a boss of sorts and you two were bound by a contract with mutual economic benefits —technically, you were each there for a benefit of your own— but it was something you wanted to be aware of, watchful of, informed of, because you had no way of knowing this guy wouldn't try to take advantage of some situation later, in any possible scenario.
“Yes…”
“Take as much time as you need. The demand for the trilogy is still pretty high, after all.”
You nodded at him in response, wary of his attempt to lighten the mood. If he was the kind of person you thought he was, he surely knew you didn't feel an ounce of trust towards him.
“In just two days you must have quite a bit of work to do with that,” you tried to continue the conversation, interspersing your gaze over the letters on the screen and his dark eyes.
“But it's a very welcome work. Aren't you glad your books were so well received?”
“Yes,” you answered without hesitation, momentarily remembering the proud look on Yuna and your brother's face when they finally got you to see the reactions and opinions of your books on social media. “It's comforting. For your work to be appreciated, recognized… moreover, that it allows you to make a living from it. It's amazing and a very great privilege.”
Dohyun shook his head in assent, interlacing his fingers over his abdomen. From his nonchalant way of taking a seat across from you, slumped over the chair almost as if he was an old friend from college and not practically your boss, and from how his voice reflected that sense of calmness and confidence, you could almost tell he was perfectly selling the facade of the most trustworthy person in the world.
But ultimately it was your feeling and your need to automatically distrust anyone you met because you didn't know at what point they would try to take advantage of you or turn their back on you, and maybe Dohyun wasn't as bad a person as you wanted to paint him in your head. Maybe you would even accept that his presence was a bit comforting and that he actually reminded you of someone you used to know in the past and of whom currently, if you knew he was still alive, it was by sheer luck. That personality, that sense of security he conveyed and that way he had had of expressing himself to you in that meeting that showed a different and more mature kind of wisdom, indeed reminded you of someone else.
Dohyun was very, very much like Jin.
“Can I… ask you something?” you hesitated, alternating your gaze between the screen and his dark eyes, not quite sure if you wanted to go down that path, but aware that you would get something in return if you did, and perhaps the risk would be worth it. “But it's not related to… this.”
As you pointed to your computer and the rest of the office, you couldn't decipher what expression Dohyun sketched. Trying to read him like you did everyone else, it seemed he entertained a specific train of thought in his head and was sparked by your question, but you couldn't probe much further because he agreed, tilting his head to invite you to ask bluntly.
“How do you know Min Yoongi?”
Dohyun then lifted his chin and his lips curved into a sort of small smile that could more accurately be described as a grimace. With his eyes on the window, with the beautiful view of the city and its busy streets, Dohyun took his time to answer and his pleased and almost satisfied look gave you to understand that your question was not a surprise at all. Dohyun could take it simply as healthy curiosity, for after all Yoongi was a celebrity and there weren't many people around the country who couldn't recognize him and you literally saw him face to face.
However, of course, there was something about his attitude that felt different. He wasn't surprised by your question, it was true, but maybe not for the reason you thought.
“He's a friend of my best friend.” Dohyun finally answered, returning your gaze, a glint of amusement highlighting his dark eyes. “I met him a couple of years ago through him, who is also his best friend. Otherwise, I doubt we would've ever met.”
Ah, Dohyun had a best friend who was best friends with Yoongi. That could only mean one thing.
“Ah. Then your best friend is part of the seven kings.”
Dohyun raised his eyebrows, clearly amused by your choice of words and the permanence of that haunting smile and the glint in his eyes should've been warning enough. He had the posture, demeanor and speech of a person who knew he was in control of the situation. Whatever his purpose was in entertaining this conversation, you already knew you were involved in that reason, indirectly.
Dohyun knew something about you that you had no idea about.
“Yes, indeed. It's Kim Seokjin. We met in college.”
As you guessed, of course. That's where the similar traits you could find in his personality came from.
But then Yoongi wasn't directly friends with Dohyun, and they couldn't be that close because of the nonchalant way he referred to him, so the question of why he was here yesterday, precisely when you came, would remain unanswered. It could be a coincidence? Of course, and you could remain in doubt, or you could…
“Wow. You two really are a powerful duo.”
Dohyun let out a laugh, nodding, looking so comfortable with himself, as if you were asking all the questions you should be asking.
“I love my job and I know I'm good at what I do, but Jin is simply on another level.”
You nodded, getting into his game of pretending, with a half smile on your face.
You knew that if Yuna knew what you were doing she would shake her head and tell you that you were crazy; that you should try to be less hard on other people and that's why you had never been able to hit it off with the other co-workers in Sol's cafeteria.
“Yes. I hear he's a great surgeon. He was top of his class, wasn't he?”
“That's right.” Dohyun nodded, determined not to look away from you. “But you're close to them too, aren't you? I saw Taehyung's Instagram stories when he uploaded your books.”
You blinked. Once. And again. He had already figured you out, and now he wanted to reverse the table and get some kind of reaction or information from you that you didn't know what kind of mystery it would solve in his head. The best option was to feign a bit of surprise, which was what you did, as if you didn't expect him to suddenly bring that up.
“Well, we studied together in school, but we were never that close.”
You lifted a shoulder, trying to downplay the subject, as if on cue, and Dohyun nodded slightly processing the information, averting his gaze over the dark carpet on the floor. He seemed to be tying up loose ends in his head and had more questions, the way he squinted his eyes as you gave him his space to think.
You had no idea what he was getting at. You had already brought out to him that he was close friends with Kim Seokjin and that, basically by extension he knew Yoongi. You could almost say it was a bit of an ordinary, almost trivial topic, not overly suspicious. Unless, of course, he knew something else that raised his curiosity and made you look suspicious in his eyes for asking such questions.
It seemed the most certain theory.
“And through him you must have met the others sometime, right?”
And it seemed you were right, too.
You had to deny his assertion, you knew, but it seemed you had taken half a second too long because he beat you to the word, shaking his head in a nod, and then said:
“That explains a lot.”
“Huh?”
Play dumb, play dumb.
Dohyun cracked a big grin, looking almost like a predator in the midst of its hunt, and from that alone you knew he'd already put his puzzle together.
“Well… actually, now that we're being honest, Jin was the one who recommended me to read your books.”
Wow.
Okay.
Jin… told Dohyun about you? About your books?
That doesn't explain anything. In fact, more questions popped up in your head than you could control and you were sure Dohyun could see the question marks moving over your irises.
“He told me that there could be a great opportunity if I published you and he was really right. I don't regret sending you that offer.”
Dohyun leaned back against the backrest and stretched one of his arms over the chair next to him. His posture was a little more relaxed than before and you couldn't help the feeling of anger that ran through you because you had given him just what he wanted, but you couldn't concentrate too much on that because you were too surprised by what he had just blurted out, as if it was nothig.
Of all the things you could've imagined, you would never have considered that this huge and prestigious publishing house had offered you a contract just because one of the CEO's great friends had recommended it to him. I mean, if Jin had never talked about it, would you have had any chance of getting this offer? Of signing this contract? Would you have been recognized on your own merit and not because you were linked to the mouth of a close friend?
None of that made any sense. Why had Jin told Choi Dohyun about you? His best friend being the owner of the most prestigious publishing house in the country, clearly knowing the implications of his actions, why would he do that? Maybe he didn't count on his friend throwing him overboard someday for gossiping and because he has an ego bigger than his own head? Maybe he thought it would be an anonymous job forever? And for what reason? On what grounds? What kind of emotions moved him to make that decision? Maybe it was simply an altruistic desire. Maybe he was moved by the same thing that moved Taehyung, the one who started all this. But was it something premeditated or not? Was it something he had previously discussed with Namjoon? Would the others know about it? Would they have agreed? Would they not have cared?
In the midst of that mental stupor, the very idea of healing seemed stupid to you. The immense confusion and anger that was coursing through your blood had no place for this group of fools to continue to meddle in your life as if they were playing a fucking election game on their computer. Why? Why? Why?
You wanted to get out of a simple doubt with Dohyun, to know what kind of connection he had with Yoongi and that everything that had happened was a coincidence, and you had ended up with a thousand more questions, with a hundred confusions and even more mixed emotions.
And Yoongi… would he have been in his office yesterday for something related to that?
“At first I thought Taehyung had asked him, but Jin is quite careful about such things. He wouldn't hint something like that to me even because his brothers ask him to, unless it was someone he could vouch for. So you knew Jin too, right?”
You didn't try to deny it, but you didn't give him the reason either. Amidst a sea of questions and confusion, incredulous and angry, you just shook your head and crossed your arms.
“I'll bring the first draft tomorrow.”
Dohyun took his time, drumming his fingers on the wood of the chair, sending you a look as if he wanted to get more answers out of you because your attitude raised more doubts than he initially had. Maybe you let go of a wolf's leash or this would be a one-time occurrence, you had no idea. But he said nothing more. Finally he got up, said goodbye and left.
Don't you think you deserve a break?
You should've listened to Yuna.
-
The next day, when you finished editing the draft of your fourth book amid tears, several cups of coffee and an excruciating pain in your wrist, you finally handed it in to the editors with a heavy heart and an hour of sleep in your body. It had officially ceased to be yours. The revelation that Dohyun had actually offered you all of this because Jin had asked him to do so kept going round and round in your head and made you revise and edit that draft more harshly than you would've done before.
Maybe you added a few extra curse words.
“If you don't finish that pasta, I'm going to steal it from you.”
Yuna hadn't even finished her own plate and was already eyeing yours, her brow furrowed and her own fork stabbing the ceramic of the deep dish you'd served your friend in as she crossed the threshold of the front door. You had been stirring the food with your fork for a while, thinking, reflecting, theorizing, trying to figure out what you really wanted; trying to recognize and accept the emotions inside you that were upsetting you.
Your parents had left early and Seojun was back in his college dorms, so you invited Yuna to lunch because you knew she loved the pastries your mom made and because you thought it would do you good to have some company after turning in the draft of your book. But, really, you were more overwhelmed than before. Yuna's presence didn't stop the thoughts in your head from racing, nor did it erase from reality what had happened.
“Y/n?”
You raised your head.
“Are you okay?”
You nodded, and tried to focus on eating lunch before rambling on.
“Is it because of the book?”
“No, no. Everything's fine. I was just thinking.”
“Do you think you should've waited a little longer to turn it in?”
You shook your head. “No.”
It wasn't an order from Dohyun or anything like that. You decided to get started on editing the next book because it was a bit desperate to have nothing to do. Before you could focus on the whole operational and logistical process of delivering the books, but now that was taken care of by a separate company and all you had to do was verify that the money was coming into your account and that was it. Not that it was bad, but you were not used to just sitting idly by. So you thought that continuing with the pre-publication editing of the next books might be a good way to pass the time.
You didn't expect, of course, the statement you heard the day before, let alone that it would knock down your motivation like the wind to dry leaves. After that conversation with Dohyun, you decided that the best thing you could do was to turn in that draft and give them as much work as possible as a distraction so that you wouldn't have to go back to that building for at least a couple of weeks. It wasn't a healthy activity, of course, because at the time you were only functioning to keep Yuna from questioning if there was something wrong with you. Well, she probably did, but she preferred not to comment on it, because you hadn't been giving her too many answers to her questions lately.
Having decided that Dohyun was an expert manipulator, you could only worry about the possibility that he might decide to comment something about that conversation to Jin or just stir up a conversation about the possible existence of a friendly bond with him during school time. You didn't know what could trigger that; with everything that had happened up to that point you could no longer be sure of anything or trust anything.
“No. I thought I'd turn it in now so I'd have more time to read the next books. I know that one isn't too bad. I revised it too many times while I was writing it and even after.”
“And it's pretty long, isn't it?”
You nodded, finally tasting another mouthful of pasta. “Seven hundred pages.”
“Holy Christ,” Yuna put a hand to her forehead and sketched a worried expression. Then her excited exclamation echoed throughout the house. “What a thrill! I can't wait to read it!!!!!!”
Yuna returned to work an hour later and you spent the rest of the afternoon between shifts of lying down staring at the ceiling and watching more videos about your books on social media, which you hadn't been able to leave since you saw them with your whole family in the living room. It still seemed surreal to you that you could search the name of your books on the internet and you would indeed get the results you expected. Clearly not all the opinions were praise, but you were willing to take all of that and learn, implement and consider it for the next stories you were willing to tell. For now, you were going to focus on keeping the editors busy enough that they wouldn't have to ask about it or demand your presence for any reason. This trilogy really was quite a lengthy saga, so when they finallt finish editing the fourth book, you'd have the fifth waiting, and so on. At least until you had another amazing idea for a new story.
Now, on the slightly more disturbing topics, you still had more loose ends to tie up than you had initially thought. As you still had those particles of anger running through your body and you were still convinced that there was still no room for healing and overcoming, you could only think about what Yoongi's presence in Dohyun's office was about and if it had to do with what Jin had done.
That was the first line of thought. The second one sounded more like Yuna with her serious voice trying to talk some sense into you and tell you that you were seeing into it too much, that surely it was all just a coincidence and that Yoongi's presence was just some kind of crossfire.
But… yet… how many more times did something like this have to happen before you stopped chalking it up to coincidence? How many more times would you say it was a coincidence until everything started to connect to a purpose? Did they even have a purpose? Did they have a reason for all this, for all this unnecessary drama? And was their reason worth it to compensate for the instability you were going through? Having pent up emotions, confusion, lots of doubts and zero answers was about to drive you crazy.
However, maybe seeing things from another approach would allow you to understand.
Because, honestly, you saw it as too complicated to be able to leave them behind in this way, when it seemed that, on purpose or not, you would keep finding them in your soup. Adopting a slightly more objective approach, even though your emotions were always running high when it came to them, could give you the resolution you were looking for and the answer to the questions you were asking yourself. And there would be nothing more than that, because it would be impossible to restore the friendship you once had. Perhaps the truth would be painful, but you would accept it as it was and move on. Now, as old as you were, it would not be as hard as it was ten years ago when in the midst of confusion and desolation you could only cry.
Now, you had already gone through the mourning and made peace with the distance, the absence and the betrayal.
Maybe, if you tried a little harder, you could bring real closure —and soon, hopefully— by finding the answers on your own.
-
Kim Namjoon used to believe that he was good at dealing with any kind of problem. In his head, which he was spinning around like a huge sphere and he was a hamster, Namjoon was sure that he could fix any situation and solve any misunderstanding, any fight or at least come to an agreement that would make everyone feel comfortable enough to move forward.
In his head, Namjoon was a three thousand dollars conflict-solver. Seeking solutions from reason and objectivity was basically how he kept his company afloat, that company he had inherited from his parents and had turned into the economic juggernaut it was today. All that success was summed up in the capacity for resolution that Namjoon had in his super head and, of course, his strategic capacity that allowed him to read his opponents and know exactly what they wanted, how they wanted it and when they wanted it.
However…
The whole table was still silent.
And Namjoon could only look at the faces of each of his friends, his best friends, practically his brothers, while they shied away from his gaze or directly ignored him, while he clasped his hands on the edge of the chair and tried to keep his composure because he no longer knew what to do.
Kim Namjoon, the three-thousandth troubleshooter, had a factory defect and could not fix the one thing he had always been able to fix with ease.
When Hoseok had walked into his office two nights ago with that stern and serious expression, Namjoon knew that there would be more problems to solve. But if he had to be honest, even before that moment he knew it wasn't working out well. Maybe it was because of the delicacy of the subject or the crudeness of his friends to address it, but Namjoon was losing the important ingredient of patience and that was something that hadn't happened to him before.
But then again, how could they all be so insensitive?
“Doesn't anyone have anything to say?”
Hoseok had been the only one to be spared from this discussion, though his presence was required at the table and tension radiated from his body in equal amounts. The others were directly attacked by the three thousandth (broken) problem-solver and despite Namjoon giving them a space to try to explain the situation, the table was still silent and with each passing second the pressure cooker containing Namjoon's anger was beeping louder and louder.
“I don't think there's much to say.”
It was Jin who finally broke the silence and Namjoon let out some air.
“Ah, thank you, Jin. Why do you think so?”
With his arms crossed, the older sent him an incredulous look.
“We've had this conversation three times already, Namjoon. Why do you think it's necessary for us to keep repeating ourselves?”
Hoseok had told Namjoon that he was concerned about the coexistence in the pent-house and that perhaps the elephant in the room was not being addressed in the right way; that more and more misunderstandings were being created between everyone and that it was making for an untrustworthy environment for the youngers. Namjoon agreed halfway through; if he had to be honest, none of it would've gotten to that point if none of them had been so irresponsible and daring to do all that they had done. And Jin had the least right to dismiss the issue as he had.
“Because you all don't seem to have listened to me at all, especially you.”
Jin snorted and turned his head away. Jungkook beside him barely winced at the hostile exchange.
“And what did I do?”
“What did you do? Jin, how can you be so inconsiderate?”
“I only rushed an exchange that was eventually going to happen, what the fuck is wrong with that?”
Namjoon tried not to look so surprised by the fact that the conversation he had had with him two nights ago and Yoongi had basically gone in one ear and out the other. Namjoon had no idea if it was an occupational hazard or a personality trait, but Jin was having a kind of stubbornness that bordered too much on his pride and desire to be right.
And right now it wasn't about who was right or wrong. It was about the fact that they had all made a promise and now they were breaking it as if it was worthless. Worse, as if the only ones affected by it were them and not a third party.
“Didn't you stop to think how she would feel if she found out that was how things went down?”
Jin rolled his eyes, but didn't answer him.
“Why do you all do all these things without believing that they will have consequences beyond your own feelings? That's all I'm asking you to consider!”
Taehyung and Jungkook at least had the decency to actually look embarrassed, avoiding Namjoon's gaze. Jimin was still convinced that he had done nothing extremely wrong and Yoongi simply demonstrated his sorrow through indifference. Namjoon knew that Yoongi was just as frustrated as he was with the way things were going, because they were the only ones trying to fix the messes the others had been thoughtlessly causing. And Jin… well, it was obvious that he didn't see any big implications beyond having to be scolded by Namjoon.
“Guys…” Hoseok started, sitting to Namjoon's right with a tired and defeated expression. If Namjoon and Yoongi were looking out for the integrity of the third party concerned, Hoseok was the one who was most concerned about the bonds that were breaking between them and that was why he had gone to Namjoon to have a group meeting again and set the boundaries once and for all. “You guys know that Namjoon is not just talking for the sake of talking. Jin, you don't need to get defensive. I understand that you tried to make the connection in good faith, but you have to understand that it was a very high risk. And while Dohyun is your friend, you know he's not very trustworthy.”
Jin grunted then, despite the kind tone Hoseok used to address him, and the others at the table only sent him a surprised look.
“Sure, now it's all my own damn fault. Not only do I have to deal with the stress of work, now I have to come to my supposed time off to deal with this too?”
“Hyung,” Yoongi called after him and frowned at the rude tone the older had used. “No one is saying it's your fault. We all have a part in this.”
“I don't care, Yoongi. Whatever's going on right now you know who's really to blame. And there's nothing you can do about it anymore.”
“Jin,” Namjoon called back and the aforementioned turned to look at him with daggers in his eyes. “You made the promise too.”
“Yes, one I never agreed to and you know it.”
Hoseok sighed and ran his hands over his face. “This is not the time to apportion blame, okay? I only wanted this space because I want us to fix this lack of communication and all this hostility that is affecting our living together.”
Namjoon turned to look at the table, finding the younger ones sealed in silence. None of them raised their heads and they showed signs of nervousness and anxiety, even if they tried to hide it under the tablecloth on the table.
There were too many things Namjoon wanted to control; there were too many things he wanted to solve; there were a number of other things that drove him mad and others that made him feel hopeless. Understanding all these emotions, his own or others', was wearing him down and perhaps that was why he was increasingly losing an ounce of patience. However, no matter how hard it was for him, Namjoon had to be sure that his priority was right in front of him. He had chosen to do so a couple of years ago and he could no longer turn back time.
“Hey, I'm sorry, okay?” Namjoon started once again and although Hoseok tried to shush him to calm down, he continued, “I know how I've acted during these days since everything started and I have not been very open to dialogue. For me it was… it was like crossing a forbidden boundary and I couldn't understand how you guys could jump over it without a second thought. It made my hair stand on end and I didn't… I didn't… I didn't know how to contain those emotions, I didn't know how to control them and clearly I didn't know how to express them. And the truth is that it worries me. I understand that you don't, because otherwise you wouldn't have done any of that, but I would like you to try to do that because this is not a unilateral action that will only affect you and will only be in your memories. You are affecting her too, and very much so. We were not good, not even friendly or cordial, so I need you to understand that all these things she will not see them as you think. Jungkook, you experienced it first hand. She hates us.”
Jungkook jerked on the chair and Taehyung was the one who reached over the table to take his intertwined hands. Jin sighed, finally letting the anger dissipate and Yoongi mimicked him, a little calmer as he watched his elder relax. Hoseok shook his head in assent, noticing the tension at the table dissipate a bit and how the young men held each other.
“And rightly so, because we made an inexcusable decision. And not only that, but she will now believe that it was a simple Tuesday for us and it's not. We made the promise for a reason and anything related we were supposed to consult first as a group. Sure, life happens and we get busy with a lot of things and have too much on our minds, but this was all inexcusable and we owe her more than forgiveness. We probably owe her our lives.”
“Hyung, I'm sorry…”
Jungkook was the most regretful. Since that harsh encounter, for which he dared to risk his presence in public and for which he believed it would be worth a try, Jungkook had never regretted something so much since the day of the promise. He still remembered the hatred your voice exuded and shivers ran down his spine. He had been unconscious, that was true, and he didn't know what he had let consume his body to have made that decision or to have simply acted without thinking. The possibility of seeing you again simply…blinded him. But that was never an excuse.
And Namjoon knew that. It was Jungkook who acted worse than everyone else, but he also couldn't deny to himself that had he found himself in the same predicament, with the same opportunity, he wouldn't have done the same. Maybe that's why he was so demanding of others, because that's how he reminded himself that he had no right to even think about it, much less act on their emotions, when they had taken away your choice as if they had any say in it.
“We can't erase what has already happened and what you have already done. All I ask is that you don't make it worse.” Namjoon implored, closing his eyes in silent prayer. “At this point there is no way to fix anything, and if every day we do things like this we are only inflicting pain on someone who doesn't deserve it. So please, for the love of God, leave her alone.”
The whole table was still silent, but this time Namjoon could clearly see everyone's face and notice their emotions right away, as he had always been able to do. He still didn't understand what had moved them to do all that; to Taehyung, to Jungkook, to Jin, to Jimin, despite everything they had discussed before, and he didn't understand how he hadn't been able to foresee their intentions from the beginning. But he could no longer focus on what had happened, but on what was happening and what he could still fix.
For that which had already been broken for years, Namjoon doubted too much that any of it could ever be fixed, no matter how hard he tried. And boy, would he have wanted to try.
“I'm sorry,” Jin mumbled, and it almost seemed like he had ripped the words from the back of his throat, but Namjoon took it with all his being and considered it the first victory on this new path.
When he finally dispatched everyone, Jimin remained seated to his left.
“Is there anything else you want to talk about?”
The blond looked disgruntled, and though it was clear that the tension was gone from his shoulders, in his gaze was that longing that Namjoon hadn't seen in years and certainly didn't allow in himself for all that he had previously exposed.
“Do you really think it's impossible to fix it?”
Namjoon hated knowing that the gleam in Jimin's eye had no future. At least not the one he wanted to believe. Namjoon, like everyone else, had spent sleepless nights thinking, remembering, reflecting and considering that they were never brave enough nor necessarily tough enough to earn that friendship once again. It had all gone to waste and it had been because of them.
“Yeah, I don't think that's possible.”
Jimin passed his saliva harshly, as if his mouth was dry, but he had to control and keep his emotions in check. Namjoon knew his every emotion and mainly knew how sensitive this whole issue was for Jimin, who from the beginning never agreed with him on anything and never hesitated to let him know. In fact, it took a couple of years before Namjoon could finally have this close relationship with Jimin again, until the blond decided to forgive him.
“It's silly to hope at this point, right?”
Namjoon also knew that Jimin struggled a lot to stop pointing blames, as Jin still did. He knew that, had Jimin had the opportunity in his hands several years in the past, he would have taken it and perhaps left them behind if he could. It was an extremely complex and long process to get the blond to trust Namjoon and those on his side again, which was one of the reasons why Hoseok was so insistent on talking and communicating and keeping everyone on good terms. It had cost them so much to re-form their trust that he couldn't allow it to crack once again.
Jimin nodded at his words when they were met with silence, for there was nothing Namjoon could say to comfort him. It was simply a heartbreaking situation.
“Tae and I will be with Jungkook.” Jimin assured Namjoon as he stood up. “Thank you… for trying.”
Namjoon only nodded, pressing his lips together in an attempt at a smile. Things would not automatically go back to the way they were before, as Namjoon's sternness in dealing with this issue on previous occasions was what initially caused this whole fiasco of miscommunication and hostility. He was heartily grateful that likewise Jimin took him into consideration, because he didn't know if he would be able to sleep knowing that everyone in that pent-house hated him. He didn't know if being the reason for the constant discord would allow him to have a respite of peace of mind at some point, when he was simply trying to do what he thought was best for everyone and what suited them on a sentimental level.
Kim Namjoon used to believe that he was good at dealing with any kind of problem. In his head, over which he circled as if it was a huge sphere and he was a hamster, Namjoon was sure that he could fix any situation and provide a solution to any misunderstanding, any fight or at least come to an agreement that would allow everyone to feel comfortable enough to move forward.
However, at that moment, the past tense wording was the most accurate.
Namjoon used to believe.
Jimin stopped halfway up the stairs, transfixed, and Namjoon watched him curiously. Then, the blond half-turned on his heels and Namjoon got front row view of Jimin's pale face and his exaggeratedly expanded eyes as he looked at his phone.
“Hyung…”
Namjoon came striding over, intrigued as well as concerned by the expression on the blond's face.
Jimin had his Instagram open, specifically his direct messages. There was the message there that had made Jimin stop dead in his tracks and all blood dropped to his feet, but Namjoon didn't understand what the reason for his surprise was until he saw the sender, and then his eyebrows disappeared into his hair.
y/n Let's meet
--
omg🙊🙊
tag: @rinkud@futuristicenemychaos@pastelpeachess@parapiop7@11thenightwemet11 @yoongznme @queenbloody @lynnettys-world @darlingz99 @dreamerwasfound @chaotickyrith @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthigs @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @kariningss @juju-227592 @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @jincapableoflove @notrustfratedjin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison @ismelllikechlorine247 @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife @thatgirliehan @yuuuumii @welcometomyworld13 @sugarbaby69x @whoa-jo @cerulean1riz @kawennote09 @angelfuzzy2 @themoonsblueside @damn-u-min-yoongi @drenix004 @dhanyasri @borahaetelevision
325 notes · View notes
strongheartneteyam · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
[ credits of the Neteyam pic go to cinetrix ]
Champagne Problems.
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader
CW: angsty, reader feeling her heart hurt, adeline being funny and shipping reader and neteyam, symptoms of PTSD (like a nightmare), sexual tension, confessions of love, angry neteyam, confused neteyam, yearning, crying, fluff, sexual content, neteyam loving reader's breasts, neteyam using his fangs on reader's body, p in v, territorial neteyam, needy and clingy neteyam, slight breeding kink, creampie
I almost cried writing this chapter and istg my pussy clenched hard while I was writing the smut part so… have a good read, I guess lol ps: I know I said I was gonna have a break from uploading my long fics (and I am!) but there was an itch in my hand to finish this story and I gave in and scratched it lol I kinda knew I eventually would. But I'm only gonna update the other fics next year. This one was an exception bc there was only one chapter left (this one lol)
Not proofread. I woke up in the middle of the night to write this, it's already morning outside and I'm sleepy and sick :(
Part 7: All I want is you
Tumblr media
𓇼
It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you
You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town
And I just wanted you to know that this is me trying
this is me trying (Taylor Swift)
𓇼
In the morning, you woke up and realized you were no longer sitting on the floor, resting your back against the wall of Kiri's marui, but rather laying in your mat. You had a sharp headache but you didn't really know why. Maybe lack of enough sleep, maybe tension… Your eyes searched around for Neteyam but he was no longer there. You knew instantly that Neteyam had been the one to carry you to your mat. He was the only one awake other than you when you two were talking while it was eclipse and you knew it wasn't his nature to leave a girl sleeping while sitting down on the floor in a weird position and go home. No, he was too much of a gentleman for that.
The realization that you were about to go back to the lab in a few days and leave Neteyam behind again hit you like a train. The thought of being without him and having no guarantee that he wasn't gonna find a mate while you were gone and when you'd come back and see him again, he'd be happy with a beautiful na'vi girl by his side - perhaps even carrying his baby in her womb - broke you in a billion little pieces.
Your heart started to beat fast in your chest, like it was gonna escape from inside your body and come out through your throat. But there was also a big lump in your throat. Anxiety stinged your whole body like sharp, thin needles. 
You didn't want to lose Neteyam. Just imagining having to stare at a wall in your room at night, to see his sweet face in the crushing darkness and feel the tears rolling down your face, reminding you that you would never be able to hold him again, to feel his huge but gentle hands on your skin, to smell his comforting scent… and worse: to know he would be in some other girl's arms every night, letting her kiss him, having… God, having sex with her…
No. You couldn't let him go. It would rip your heart apart.
And if Neteyam didn't go for Munì like you thought he did, that meant that he didn't stop loving you… right? That's what you were desperately hoping for. You were almost sure you had seen him get slightly happy when you acted like an idiot and let him see how jealous you were of Munì last night. Maybe that meant he still felt something for you.
If you were right about Neteyam's feelings, you didn't quite know why he loved the mess of a girl that you were but… somehow he did, and he was sad because of you, because you refused to be his mate when that's all you truly wanted, in the first place. You had let fear hold you back once again. But not this time. You had to be brave. You had to at least try.
Putting the sheet that was once over you to the side, you uncovered your body and, in a rapid motion, you got up from your mat and got to your feet, feeling the slight coldness on the floor of the marui. Your feet walked slowly but surely among your two best human friends, trying hard not to step on or kick one of the girls as they were sleeping right next to your mat. 
You got startled by Adeline's voice echoing in the morning air as she whispered energetically to you.
"(y/n), where are you going?" Her voice was hoarse and slightly funny, because of slumber.
"I thought you were sleeping!" You whispered back as you looked at her sleepy and moody face while she laid down in her mat
"I was but I felt the need to pee and woke up. Answer my question, please!" She demanded
Your heart started beating fast and you spoke "I'm gonna try and make things right with Neteyam."
"Thank God." She dramatically grunted "I knew you liked him all along, I just wouldn't try and force you to mate with the guy, of course. But damn, I've known you since we were kids and I know when you're in love. I wanted to slap you when I saw you looking gloomy and I would ask you what was wrong and you would say that it was nothing but I just knew you were missing him and regretting refusing to be his mate. And Neteyam brought you back to your mat in his freaking arms! You can't let the guy go, you idiot! He loves you! Can't you see it? You both love each other! What was stopping you before from saying “Hey, I know I'm a bit crazy but I wanna be your mate!”?” She sighed, like she was tired of that whole situation
“How do you know Neteyam carried me back to my mat?” Surprise was all over your face
“I woke up at eclipse with your chatter, mamas.” She said nonchalantly 
“Oh…” You awkwardly spoke “So, you heard everything?” You cringed
“I heard a lot of it. Enough to know Neteyam is worth it. Now do what you gotta do. I gotta go relieve myself.” She demanded like a mother would
Your laughter echoed around. Adeline didn't realize how funny she was. You loved her. So, so much. That bitch was everything to you.
In only seconds you found yourself rushing out of the marui's door and your feet walking quickly through the warm Metkayina sand.
After a good while looking around and only seeing turquoise skinned tall Metkayina people, you finally found Neteyam. The sight of his broad, striped back did things to you. It made you remember how insanely good it felt when he was inside of you that rainy night on his hammock.
"Neteyam!" You yelled, sounding way more desperate than you had wanted to, and Neteyam rapidly turned around looked at you, his face covered with surprise
"I'm sorry! I do wanna be with you!" You spoke, breath a bit labored as you felt nervous and insecure about his reaction. The next thing you saw, you were breaking down in tears. 
"Why did you refuse me, then?" Neteyam asked,  slightly angry and utterly confused 
He did not understand why you had put you both through all that pain if you did love him too.
"I guess I was just afraid of finally having something beautiful in my life again, to feel safe again and then lose it. I couldn't bear to lose you. The truth is, I've had a crush on you since we first met too and I think I started to have deeper feelings for you at the party. Maybe we fell for each other at the same time" you chuckled wearily between tears, thinking that if it truly happened, it was beautiful and seemed like something out of a romantic movie
“Were you afraid that I was gonna leave you?” Neteyam asked, furrowing his hairless eyebrows 
“Yes…” You shamefully confirmed.
It seemed like you only ever thought the worst of Neteyam, even though he was known to be a good man and only proved you again and again how much he cared about you.
"Why would I ever leave you if I love you? It's as simple as that, tawtute." Neteyam stated
An amazed smile was born amidst your tears and your heart sped up as your brain processed those words.
"Are you saying you… love me?" It still seemed too good to be true.
"I'm saying I love you more than you will ever know, syulang." Neteyam walked closer to you and tried to touch your hand
You backed away slightly and he felt frustrated. Even as you declared your love for him you were still so guarded. Neteyam let out an impatient breath out of his feline nostrils.
“Tawtute, please, be my mate.” He asked you once again, his heart open to you once again.
“But what about tsaheylu? You can’t make it with me! What if you one day realize you regret missing out on this experience? It’s such an important thing to your people…” You let out a choked sob as you pronounced those words that felt like a stab in the heart
“Not again with the excuses…” Neteyam thought
“Listen” Neteyam asked for your attention “I do not care if you don’t have tendrils and we can’t make tsaheylu. What’s even the point of tsaheylu if I can’t make it with the girl I love? Tsaheylu is about sharing your affection, your devotion, your need with your mate and I don’t need or want anyone else but you, tawtute.”
You kept sobbing and just couldn't seem to stop.
Neteyam grabbed you and held you inside his strong, long arms, one of his hands on the back of your head, pressing it against his body and the other on your shoulder. His warm embrace felt reassuring.
"It's okay, oeyä tawtute. You are safe with me."
After a while holding you like that, he gently pushed you away from him and held your chin up so you could look at his face.
"I won't ever leave you. I promise you, with the Great Mother as my witness, I will never ever let you go. I'm yours forever. I have been yours for so long…" He gave you a calm smile and wiped your tears away
Your gleaming eyes gazed up at his face. He was so beautiful, his dark blue stripes forming intricate pattern on his forehead, a pattern unique to his body. His bioluminescent freckles adorned his big face and shone slightly even in the light of day. You were so damn lucky to have such a beautiful man be so deeply in love with you.
“So, what's it gonna be?” Neteyam's big thumb caressed your reddened face as his lips were curled in a gentle smile, showing no teeth “Can I finally get an “yes” from your beautiful lips?”
You chuckled and smiled big.
“Yes.” Neteyam's heart swelled with affection and relief “Yes, I'm gonna be your mate, Neteyam.”
“Nga yawne lu oer, oeyä tawtute.” (I love you, my human) Neteyam grabbed your face that was tiny inside his two big hands and kissed you eagerly, his lips pressing against yours like he had been needing that for so long.
Neteyam had been dreaming awake every night about how it would feel if he ever got to kiss your small mouth again. His tongue touched the slit of your mouth, deliciously warm and wet and you parted your lips so he could explore the insides of your mouth. Neteyam's large tongue licked your tongue and you moaned in delight at the sensation. You had missed his kisses so damn much… Neteyam tasted your mouth like you were the sweetest berry juice in the whole Universe.
“I missed your lips and your tongue, syulang. I was craving you.”  Neteyam said and softly placed a last peck in your lips 
“I missed you too. A lot.” You smiled at him, still tasting him on your tongue "I love you too." Neteyam smiled at you when hearing those words he was dying to hear for so long.
“Come, have lunch with me, oeyä hì'i muntxate.” (my small mate)
You agreed and Neteyam took your hand inside his much bigger one, taking you to the place where the na'vi were handling food to each other.
Many curious blue eyes looked at the both of you as Neteyam possessively held you by your waist and talked to you gently.
“I'm gonna get some fish and herbs for us, okay?” He smiled happily at you, like he either didn't notice or didn't care about how all the Metkayina at that part of the reef seemed to be watching yours and Neteyam's every move.
Quickly he grabbed the fish and took you to some rocks away from everyone else, what made you let out a relieved silent breath.
You two ate your fish, that had been prepared on a bonfire - it tasted delicious, by the way. Slightly spicy but also with fresh notes of something that reminded you of peppermint. Alien food was better than you had ever anticipated while you prepared on Earth to travel to Pandora.
"By the way, I'm sorry about your arm. I bet it hurt a lot…" You brought it up, after swallowing a mouthful of fish
"Not that much. I'm strong." He played around but Neteyam truly wanted you to see him as a strong na'vi male. He knew it was boyish but he did it anyway.
He won a quick joyful chuckle from you.
"I was gonna tell you that yesterday but I guess I got too nervous and then too emotional and I ended up forgetting to. I'm sorry, I think I tend to seem self-centered sometimes…" You spoke
"Don't worry about it. You do seem aloof and a little self-centered" You scoffed in a joking manner at his bluntness but you actually said “Ouch!” on the inside.
Damn, Neteyam truly knew how to humble someone...
“But I know that's not who you really are. People just have to take enough time to get to know you and they'll see what I see." 
"And what do you see?" Your eyes shone with wonder and your voice was playful 
"I see a smart, strong, sensitive and amazingly beautiful girl."
Your cheeks turned red. You weren't expecting so much praise.
“Ok, stop… I'm not all that.” You awkwardly stated, avoiding his gaze
“Of course you are. I don't know why you can't see it, tawtute.”
Maybe because you hadn't heard that a lot throughout your life…
To be fair, you had been called beautiful and smart many times but not the other two. Kate and Adeline would tell you that you were strong when you needed to hear it but you always wondered if they perhaps just said that because they were your closest, best friends and they only wanted to make you feel better.
𓇼
After lunch, Neteyam sneaked out with you and took you to a private place on the beach where his hammock was hanging, somewhere more secluded, where the both of you could be alone. You knew just what he wanted and you could not lie and say that you were not craving the exact same thing.
Neteyam took you in his arms, winning a squeaky laugh from you as he lift you off your feet. 
Neteyam sat you on his big hammock, your legs hanging in the air and not touching the clear sand. He knelt in front of you and before you knew it, he was kissing you. Neteyam eagerly took your lower lip between his soft, full lips, suckling on it ever so slightly and then pressing his mouth against yours. Neteyam's huge blue hands cupped both your breasts over your white cropped top and you whimpered in pleasure.
"Oeyä tawtute…" he cried out "Let me see these titties" his mouth hanged slightly open with anticipation and desire
Once you let him take your bra off, Neteyam groaned in an animalistic, primal way.
"These perfect soft titties are mine now, oeyä muntxate. Only mine."
"Yours, Neteyam." You breathed, so taken by him and the moment. Your panties were slick with your juices, so much he turned you on.
Neteyam laid you down gently but eagerly on his hammock. He wasted no time and quickly brought his lips to your breasts. He had been dreaming of that ever since the first time he saw your breasts jiggle under your shirt when you were walking fast, troubled with your scientist work. Your boobs were just so different from the na'vi females ones and it made Neteyam daydream about how it would feel to have your small buds inside his mouth.
Neteyam sucked on your nipples like he was hungry and desperate to taste your skin. He licked your sensitive buds swiftly, leaving them hard and wet with his saliva. All you could do was look down at his mesmerizing blue face, staring at his bioluminescent little freckles and moan loud. You started to worry if people could hear but you decided it was not important if they did or not and you just did not care. That intimate, raw moment you were having with your Neteyam was much more important than anything else in the Universe.
He started using his fangs to tease your breasts slowly and you whimpered at the sting but also enjoyed the bittersweet pleasure it gave you. 
“If you want me to stop, just say it, oeyä tawtute.”
“No. Keep doing it, please” You asked
Neteyam bit your right breast harder this time and you moaned loud again. The acute feeling of his sharp fangs harassing your sensitive skin made you feel an incredible sensation that lied somewhere between discomfort and delight but that ended up just being incredibly addictive. Your folds were even more soaked by now.
“Neteyam, please, fuck me, baby” you begged “I need you.”
“Fuck, muntxate, you're so needy for me. It's so hot, yawne…” Neteyam's heavy breath collided with your skin, sending shivers all over your body
Neteyam undressed you quickly and took his loincloth off just as rapidly, his cock hard and proud, slightly curved to the side.
Neteyam took his cock in his hand and rubbed his swollen tip on your glistening clit, making your body tremble.
“Neteyam… please.” You protested
“Say you want it.” He looked into your eyes, his big golden irises shining with the sight of you in front of him, his mouth in a teasing smirk. His accent drove you insane.
“Please, fuck me…” Your face showed him how desperate you were to feel him
“Do you want me to fill you up with my cock, tawtute?” He dig for more
“Yes, Neteyam, I need your big cock inside of my pussy, please, please…” It's like you couldn't take it anymore. Your cunt felt so empty without him.
After hearing those enticing words, Neteyam swiftly placed his large blue cock at your soaked entrance and pushed it all in at once, making you moan loudly in sheer, raw pleasure. 
"Eywa, how I missed this pussy! Your ekxìn pussy feels so fucking good, my little tanhì." (star) Neteyam murmured as he thrusted hungrily into you, his big, girthy cock stretching your insides and filling you up completely.
Neteyam's feelings for you were just so strong that he felt like no words would ever be enough to express his emotions so, he was trying to show you how he felt about you by loving your body instead, pouring out all his yearning for you through his kisses, his desperate caresses, his thrusts…
"Tawtute" Neteyam cried out as he thrusted roughly into you "Oeyä muntxate." (my mate) "Mine. All mine, yawntu…" (loved one) He whimpered in your ear, melancholic and driven wild by his desire and ardent affection for you "Nga yawne lu oer." (I love you) "So, so much."
Neteyam's breath was heavy and irregular as he pounded himself into you as hard as he could. He needed you so much, he felt like he would die if he could not have all of you, if he could not claim you once and for all. It was so good that he didn't last long and came inside of you, his thick warm seed shooting strongly towards your womb. He hoped to breed you but he didn't know you were taking birth control pills. Neteyam's load of cum was so big that it leaked out of your cunt even as he was still inside of you. That was so dirty and sexy that your pussy clenched around his cock as you felt his warm liquid leaking out of your stretched entrance.
After cuddling for a while, when you were looking to find your bra that Neteyam had thrown somewhere in the sand, he looked at your breasts, the two of them full of his bite marks and a big beautiful smile adorned his full lips, followed by a joyful chuckle.
“I marked you well, syulang. Now everybody can see that you're mine. Oeyä muntxate. Mine forever.” He leaned in for a kiss, pressing his soft lips on yours, so needy. Neteyam tasted so sweet but so unique at the same time. He tasted like himself. Nothing else could compare.
You chuckled. “You're so pervy.”
“But you love it.” He smiled at you, his sharp fangs more charming than ever
“Hey! Just because I'm your mate now it doesn't mean you get to be all cocky again.” You teased, pretending to be angry, as you pushed his arm away with your hand
Neteyam only smiled wider. He was over the moon that you were now finally his. All his. Until the end of time.
Neteyam yawned, body still in full bliss because of the powerful orgasm you had given him.
“I'm sleepy, oeyä tawtute. Take a nap with me.” He was already grabbing you in his big striped arms and laying you back on the hammock with him.
“You're not giving me a choice, anyway.” You chuckled and yawned too.
Soon your tired eyes fell shut, as you felt his warm breath on your skin.
𓇼
In the middle of the afternoon, you woke up crying, desperately breathing gasping for air. Neteyam woke up startled with your panicking state. Another nightmare... One of those that left your heart aching and your mind confused for long after you woke up, wondering if it had been reality or not.
“What's wrong, yawntu?” (loved one) 
When you realized Neteyam was by your side, still holding you against his warm body, you felt relieved but only seemed to cry more. You buried your head on his soft chest and he just let you cry there, petting your head softly with his hand, his slender fingers running through your locks of hair every now and then, trying to comfort you.
Eventually you stopped crying, sniffing one last time. You placed a kiss on Neteyam's chest, your lips lingering on his skin for longer than they normally would, as if to try and make sure that he was really there with you, that he was real and was not going away.
“Wanna tell me what happened now, oeyä muntxate?” (my mate)
You looked up at his face, eyes reddish.
“I had a terrible nightmare…” just the reminder made your heart ache again “I dreamt you left me. You got tired of me and found a better mate.”
“Tawtute… that's never gonna happen.”
“You promise?” You needed to hear him promise…
“I promise.” He tried to kiss you but you backed away a bit 
“What if your parents don't approve of us? Will you leave me then?” You hated how clingy and annoying you were sounding 
Neteyam started thinking that he would have to have an endless amount of patience with you. Your fear controlled you way too often. He would have to teach you how to be a little more free. But he would do it gladly.
"Listen, yawntutsyìp" (little loved one) Neteyam held your small face inside of both his huge blue hands "We will fight whatever we have to, whatever comes our way, and we will stay together forever, okay? I'm not letting anything separate me from you. Nothing, you hear me? Nothing." He promised you.
You breathed in and decided you had to try and believe him, otherwise you would end up sabotaging your relationship with Neteyam, you would end up contributing to what you feared the most: him leaving you. What you did not know was that there was actually nothing you could do to drive Neteyam away. He had been chasing you for way too long, he had fought for you like he had fought in the war against the Sky People. Neteyam was too much of a good warrior and too proud to let you go after all that. And damn, he could not imagine a life without you. Not a life where he would be happy and fulfilled, at least. He needed you to see the morning air as fresh, to hear the song of the birds as lively, to see the light of the stars as a guide.
“Okay. I trust you, Neteyam.” You stated, utterly sure of your words this time.
𓇼
♡ Epilogue ♡
You felt safe for the first time in so long while Neteyam held you inside his big arms, his body heat spreading all over you. It felt so cozy and just so… right. Like you had finally found what you needed, what you were unconsciously looking for all along.
Safety, trust, shelter… love.
Funny how sometimes when we need love the most is when we push it away the most, hurt the people who are trying to give it to us the most because we're so terrified to get hurt again, to finally trust and be let down again that we would rather keep drowning in our pain and in our loneliness. Pain can feel comfortable, as crazy as it sounds.
Turn a curse into a kiss
You could have never seen it coming, you could have never imagined back on your Earth days that your safe place to fall would be in the arms of an alien in an exoplanet, outside of your home solar system. What a weird happy ending. But it doesn't matter. There's still much more to come. This isn't the end, it's just the beginning.
𓇼
Change the meaning of your world
Love makes no sense, love has no name
Love drowns you in tears and it sets your heart on fire
Love has no fear, love has no reason
So infinitely vast and we're standing at the edge
Take my hand, erase the past forever
Love Exists (Amy Lee)
𓇼
This is the end, guys 🥲🤍 Feels so good to give Teyam and Reader a beautiful happy ending. Thank you all so much for reading my story 💕
Taglist:
@iman-lu
@leaveitbythewave
@creepytoes88
@live-laugh-neteyam
@swaggygurlbae
@neteluvr
@layla2-49
@a-blog-name-2003
@lala-1516
@jakesullyfatjuicypeen
@yeosxxx
@iaratezaewa
@somekindofastupidjoke
@fadedpetal
2K notes · View notes
bones4thecats · 11 months ago
Text
Adopting Their Fallen Enemy's Child (PT.1) ~ RoR/SnV x Child! Reader
Type of Writing: Poll Result Characters: Thor, Shiva, & Child! Reader Name: Adopting Their Fallen Enemy's Child (PT.1) Original Poll Link: Here Other Parts: (PT.2)
A/N: I actually really liked this idea on the poll I made, and I hope it turned out as good as I imagined it! Enjoy!!
●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・
Tumblr media
●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・
🌩️ Your father was the Lü Bu, the Flying General himself, and when you heard from the Valkyrie named Brunhilde that he was set to fight in the first match of Ragnarok, you gave him the best support he could’ve asked for
🌩️ You sat alongside his army, with his strategist, Chen Gong, sitting next to you, trying to keep you from jumping down and attacking the God of Thunder yourself
🌩️ When Chen Gong and the others sacrificed themselves, stating their loyalty to you father, you stood there in shock and tear-filled eyes as Thor looked at you, seeing a child without anyone left
🌩️ He felt guilty, but this was what they wanted, they wanted to join their lord, and while he initially wanted to just leave the area, he walked up to you and shocked the Gods and Humans as he kneeled down and hugged you
🌩️ After that day, you stayed by Thor’s side, he reminded you so much of your father it would make you cry
🌩️ Thor may not be the best person when it comes to comforting, but he tries his best when it comes to you, Lü Bu was the one person who could stand a fight against him, and because of this, he would try training you to be just as strong as your father and him
🌩️ He honors your father with you. Every day on his birthday, and on the days of each of his soldiers, including Chen Gong, you would walk into a field in the forest located in the Chinese section of Valhalla, you would both hand off flowers and lay them on the graves you and him had made
🌩️ The words he said to you when he comforted you that day are words that you will never forget
“ Your father was an honorable man, I hope you know that. And because of the honor he possessed, I will take you in as my own. I believe it is something that your father would’ve wanted. “
●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・
Tumblr media
●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・
🪩 He believed that Raiden was the one opponent he would remember the rest of his life, and when he saw the now-deceased rikishi stare at a young child with the two Valkyries, he froze
🪩 The man was a father, just like him
🪩 But while his child could handle loss of someone easily, you appeared to be around a young teen, this must’ve been one of the hardest things you ever had to witness
🪩 Shiva looked at you and back at the crumbling Raiden Tameemon, guilt filled his heart, which was something he hadn’t felt for such a long time, why did he feel guilty? He just won and brought honor to his pantheon!
🪩 Watching as you ran down and tried hugging the remaining pieces of your father just got him staring back at his wives and son, and when he saw how saddened their eyes were then they looked at you
🪩 The God of Destruction walked up to you and you jumped back when his one arm reached out to you, and that action made the Humans cry out for him to not hurt you
🪩 He kneeled down and since he was just on fire, the heat that radiated off of him made you hold your head away from him
“ Look at me, young one. “
🪩 You looked up at him and saw how his eyes shimmered with guilt, making you look at where your father once stood and back at the man who caused his demise
🪩 Shiva held is one arm back as you tried helping him stay standing when he slumped over in pain, after all, losing three arms doesn't exactly make anyone, including Gods, feel very good
🪩 Once you came to visit him with his wives and son, he saw how you carried yourself around him, not with resentment or fear, but with care and gentleness, making him smile
🪩 Whenever he rested, you laid next to him, you were like another child of his, and when he offered to take care of you in the Hindu Pantheon, it made you jump up and down and hug him and his wives as they agreed to taking you in as their own
“ Your father was one of the best fighters I have ever met in my thousands of years of life. And… seeing you look so painfully at where your father once stood, I just, I knew you had to have someone there for you. Would you do me, and my wives, the honor of joining our family? ”
1K notes · View notes
pickingupmymercedes · 5 months ago
Note
hiiii for the 500 blurbs, can you do one where fans notices how lewis no longer hold his phone whenever he walks into the paddock now? like he used to do that all the time, but not after marrying reader? he's ALWAYS holding her hand or her waist. im not sure which dialogues to pick btw im soo sorry 😭😭😭
I loveeeee writing interviews type of stories, I think they're so fun to plan out. Hope you like it love.
"Find someone to hold your hand through the chaos"
Will Buxton leaned forward with a smile on his chair. "Alright Lewis, we've covered your incredible career, your thoughts on the upcoming season, and even a few technical details from the past cars. Now, it's time for something a little lighter. We've received quite a few questions from our fans, and one seems to be a common theme."
Lewis chuckled, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Right…"
The reporter held up a tablet, scrolling through the screen. "Many fans have noticed a… shift in how you enter the paddock lately. Gone are the days of clutching your phone as you navigate the photographers. Now, you seem to be… well, holding someone’s hand."
Lewis's smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes as he nodded. "Yape"
"So" Buxton confirmed, chuckling to himself. "What’s the story?"
Lewis's smile softened, his gaze drifting away from the interview for a brief moment before returning to him. "There’s no breaking story, really." he admitted. "It’s a natural progression I guess."
He paused, searching for the right words "The phone," he continued, "it was a way to tune out the noise, the cameras, the scrutiny even. But now with Y/N…" he paused, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, "In that sea of faces and flashes, her presence is a constant, a reminder of what truly matters."
Will's smile was understanding. "So, it’s not only about keeping her safe, but also about keeping you grounded?"
"Something like that" Lewis said, nodding firmly. "I mean, I love the environment, the rush of a race weekend, but it’s often a lot to take in. And, of course, her safety was my main concern at first, but now, it's also about having that balance, that someone that reminds you there's a whole world outside of this bubble we’re all in."
Will pressed on, curious to know more about the couple the world knew little about "Would you say walking those spaces with someone by your side also sends a message?"
Lewis arched an eyebrow, shaking his head. "Of course, it does" he conceded, a nod to the question the reporter actually wanted answered – is walking hand in hand a sign he’s finally taken.  
"But trust me, keeping Y/N safe and feeling centered are the main reasons." He completed after a few minutes of hesitation from Will, almost as if he was waiting for Lewis to say something else.
Will chuckled, a hint of disappointment in his voice. Lewis was a known master at deflecting personal questions while still giving just enough to keep people interested. "Alright, alright," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "We'll leave it at that then. But Lewis, before we wrap up, any advice for young drivers out there who might be dealing with the overwhelming pressure of the sport?"
Lewis's smile returned, genuine and warm. "Of course! Well, it's not just about the race. It's about the journey. Find your passion, surround yourself with people who support you, and never lose sight of why you started. And maybe," he added with a glint in his eyes "find someone to hold your hand through the chaos."
______________________________________________________________
TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28
@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld
@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf @priopp123 @jajouska
If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.
328 notes · View notes
strwberri-milk · 5 months ago
Note
Hi! How are you? i would like to request about Mc remember her past life, and she goes really overwhelmed about it...to the point that when she sees Rafayel, she gave her a kiss. The first one for them. And obviously he melts for the kiss. Smut
the way you just ended the ask with Smut. reminds me of that video where the guy just goes "Belt" also i didnt feel like going the whole smut route - if you want the smut hoestly, id say you can just look at this bc soft smut hcs are the direction i'd take here <3 maybe one day i'll write a full fledged fic but rn i have my hands full w boothill [pensive]
Tumblr media
The dreams you had were slowly getting more and more realistic. You didn't quite understand why or how they were starting to come about but you first brushed them off as just that - dreams. You didn't think that there was anything too serious about them until one day you suddenly get the sense that everything you're dreaming about is somehow real.
Rafayel was on a business trip so unfortunately you couldn't even talk to him about this, struggling with these emotions yourself as you try to sift through them. Somehow, your dreams line up with the things he teases you about and you start to wonder if he knows something or if it's some weird after effect of being reincarnated?? You can't figure it out and you don't want to blow up his phone with your ramblings so you keep it to yourself until he comes home.
He shows up at your door, beginning to tell you about how he wasn't even able to go home because he missed you so much, wanting to see you right now when you look at him with tears in your eyes. He's startled to say the least, panicking a little as he asks you why you're crying when you suddenly grab him, kissing him hard.
He melts into your touch, desperate to feel your touch. He's always wanted you, always wanted to be with you but never thought that you felt the same. He just prayed and hoped that one day you would remember, that he'd be lucky enough to be with you. Even if you don't remember he doesn't mind losing himself in you like this right now, closing the door behind him as you lead him to your bedroom.
He takes you passionately, keeping you on your back and doing his best to make you cry from ecstasy. He repeats over and over how much he loves you with each bucking of his hips, kissing you breathless and telling you he's wanted you from the moment he saw you. He showers you with attention, bringing you to the peak over and over again. He's insatiable, desperate for you to feel good because of him and making up for lost time.
You're exhausted and barely coherent by the time he's done but he holds you so close. You can hear the beating of his heart in your ear, memorising the sound as you remember that it was taken from you before. You confess quietly what you've seen, the things you remember. He holds his breath, looing at you desperately as he asks if you really remember. When you confirm he holds you so tightly, telling you to rest for now and then the two of you can discuss what's next at another time.
267 notes · View notes
solxamber · 18 days ago
Note
First, I would like to say I love your writing! Especially your Trash Villain Chronicles. Thanks to your first one I've been on a Vil kick. I double-checked the rules before typing so hopeful I'm following them. Okay, here goes:
Vil with a partner who's a bit on the heavier side and insecure about it, especially compared to her model boyfriend. Vil finds out about it and quickly reassures her that she is perfect the way she is, and if she's still insecure, he'll help her with whatever she wants to do. Whether it's losing weight or changing her style, anything to make her feel good about herself. Just Vil helping his love feel as beautiful as he thinks she is
I personally see this with a female reader (Hence why I used she/her) but if you do decide you wanna take a crack at this and use a GN reader, then by all means. If you don't wanna do this request, then feel free to ignore it. Just wanted to try. I hope you have a nice day!
Just the Way You Are || Vil Schoenheit
Vil shows you that you’re perfect as you are, helping you embrace your beauty inside and out.
first of all: thank you so much <3. and thank you for waiting! i made it gn to be more inclusive, and i hope this is what you wanted!
Tumblr media
Vil has always found a certain allure in the way you carry yourself—something genuine and warm that shines in a way he rarely sees. But over time, he's noticed the small, telling moments of hesitation.
The way you shy away from reflective surfaces, your reluctance to stand too close to him in photos, the subtle way you pull at your clothes.
He understands insecurity well, but it pains him to see that you’re judging yourself so harshly, especially when he thinks you're so beautiful just as you are.
Tumblr media
One day, while sharing lunch, he notices you pushing food around your plate rather than eating. He sets his fork down and gives you a look, his eyes gentle yet discerning. "Darling, are you really going to keep that on the edge of your plate?"
You give a half-hearted smile. "I…just don't want to overdo it," you say, hoping that sounds convincing.
Vil nods thoughtfully, already understanding. He reaches out, covering your hand with his. "If you're feeling uncomfortable about what you eat, would you let me help? Not because I think you need to change, but because I want you to feel at home in your own skin."
You agree, albeit a bit hesitantly, and he instantly takes charge in the way that only Vil can. Crowley’s meager budget often mean you have to settle for low-cost, processed foods, and Vil isn’t about to let that slide.
Over the next week, he starts bringing meals prepared just for you, full of fresh ingredients he’s carefully chosen and even sourced himself.
One afternoon, he surprises you with a gorgeous spread for lunch. It’s a rainbow of fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and lean proteins, arranged as beautifully as any of his fashion editorials.
"Proper food is like proper skincare," he explains as he plates your meal with a flourish. "Only the best for you."
You find yourself looking forward to meals more than you ever thought you would. He teaches you little tricks, too—how to pick satisfying ingredients on a budget, small ways to prepare them to bring out their natural flavors.
Every meal feels like an act of love, a reminder that someone thinks you're worth the care you didn’t always give yourself.
After a couple of weeks, you feel the difference—not just in your energy but in your confidence. Vil notices this too, smiling proudly every time you finish your meals, delighted with the way you’re nourishing yourself.
He never pushes; he’s simply there to support you every step of the way, showing you that your health and happiness matter to him more than anything.
Tumblr media
One evening, Vil finds you sighing at your reflection in the mirror, scrutinizing every detail of your outfit. You’re wearing a simple outfit, but you can't help but feel that it doesn't quite fit the way you’d like, especially next to someone as effortlessly poised as Vil.
Sensing your discomfort, Vil walks up beside you and slips an arm around your shoulders.
“You’re beautiful as you are,” he murmurs, resting his chin on your shoulder. “But if you don’t feel it, then let's change that. Why don’t we make a day of it and find you some outfits that help you feel as beautiful as you look to me?”
The next day, Vil takes you shopping, his eye for detail guiding every choice. He’s quick to dismiss outfits that don’t fit right, brushing off any hints of self-consciousness by focusing on each piece’s color, fabric, and shape as though they’re variables in an equation only he understands.
“Fit is everything,” he tells you, holding up a jacket. “It’s about finding clothes that celebrate who you are, not cover it up.”
His enthusiasm is contagious, and as you try on different outfits, you start to see yourself in a new light. Vil’s commentary—sometimes playful, sometimes serious—always steers you toward the right choices, outfits that make you feel vibrant and confident.
At one point, he finds a tailored coat with intricate details on the sleeves, something understated yet regal. “This,” he declares, draping it over your shoulders.
You glance at yourself, surprised at how the cut flatters you, and for the first time, you feel like your outside finally matches the confidence you’re building on the inside.
By the time you leave the store, you’re carrying a few new pieces that you actually feel excited to wear, and Vil’s heart swells every time he sees you trying them out.
His pride in you is palpable, his compliments genuine and warm. "It’s all about loving who you are,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “And it’s a privilege to see you start doing just that.”
Tumblr media
One night, as the two of you sit together on the dorm balcony, Vil looks at you with such intensity that it catches you off guard. "I hope you’re beginning to see how wonderful you are," he says softly, his hand holding yours. "Not because of anything you’ve done to change, but because you’re worth it. You always were."
You smile, feeling a rush of warmth flood through you as you squeeze his hand back. And as you lean against him, content, you finally start to believe that, maybe, Vil is right.
Tumblr media
Masterlist
132 notes · View notes
edgeray · 4 months ago
Note
Ray! 🍅 anon here, I said I wasn't going to request but there's one idea I've been really, REALLY itching at.
So you know how you reblogged "cold nights" by beiibeii? Yeah about that... I think I cooked an angst idea of this on a related tangent? (If you choose to write this, ofc)
How about Mother!Reader who is faced with the same scenario of Arle neglecting them to the point that she loses hope in their relationship? Think of the angst when the children constantly remind their Father of important dates but she's away or somehow missing most of them because of work. To the point reader just implies for them to stop trying and accepts the fact that they married Arlecchino but is now simply the Knave's wife? Like even the children can see them losing hope which is why they sometimes lowkey plead with their Father to actually pay more attention to Mother. Mother marrying Father means that Mother is strong but behind their strong facade you can see their sadness! You can feel their loneliness! And their sense of isolation and sorrowful acceptance of their new reality. And Arle does not pick up on the subtle signs until it's Too Late. Like. Reader in the coffin Late.
And as the Knave's wife Reader does need to undertake missions like in "I am Fine in Your Arms" but because reader has lost so much hope in living a wife outside of being the Knave's wife, reader does not make an effort to return alive. The angst of the burial, maybe the children blaming their Father etc. The really young ones aside, I don't think they would be actively angry with their Father, just very, VERY, disappointed. HotH would lose its warmth for a while before Lyney, Lynette and Freminet try their best to build it back (but of course, it never becomes as warm as it used to be)
Whether or not you choose to give this one a happy ending is up to you, but on my end the only happy ending that I cooked up for them is that Arle wakes up in the next Samsara with all these memories of losing Reader and prevents the relationship from going South in the first place. (Bonus points if Reader also has the memories and compares it to how they were treated by Arle previously, makes a comparison, and goes "How I wish this were my Arle" without knowing that it actually IS their Arle, just acknowledging she fucked up BIG time and is now making heavy amends for it. and Arle Knows because of that look that Reader gives her, sorrow and joy in a complex blend.)
...I think by now you can tell that I'm an angst writer too HAHSHHSHA Nobody leaves my fics without getting a knife and I promise it's just for the plot (like we always say).
I've still been keeping up with your writings (Beauty and The Beast actually fits, holy-) (Someone send Siren!Arle a whole farmhouse of ham for her consumption please) and yes I agree that you've been pumping out bangers after bangers. (I mean. Given that, you probably can afford to be a little indulgent? If writing this much quality about your muse doesn't give you the OK to put your hands all over them, abs and all, what does?)
As always, prioritise your sanity and schedule first, stay well rested and hydrated!
Lost Warmth
(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)
A/N -  Link to my momma's (@beiibeiii) piece right here. If I see you read this before reading the masterpiece I just linked, know that I am a very disappointed axolotl. 😔  Anyways, you might be able to tell just how long this has been sitting in my inbox… haha… my bad guys. T^T. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to write more angst. :3 And thank you for the additional comments 🍅 anon. I do have quite a soft spot for siren! arle, seeing that she was my first request (and requested from my momma :3). Wanted this to be a little longer, but I do have to wake up earlier tomorrow, so this is what you get T^T. Hopefully it's still good. Content warnings / info - angst, character death (duh), reader is referred to as ‘Mother’ but is otherwise GN!, 1.4k words
Cold is a feeling you've long gotten used to. Cold is your husband's dismissal of your existence, with every interaction ending with her blunt words and back towards you, leaving you with a crumbling heart. Cold are the long nights as you anxiously wait for Arlecchino's appearance for a candlelit dinner you spent half the day preparing, only for her never to return until you fell to exhaustion on the couch, a flower bouquet that remains unreceived in your hands. Cold is the creeping loneliness in the late hours of the night, when you've finally grown tired of anticipating someone that will never come, and returned to bed alone. Cold is the way you shiver underneath the thickest of blankets, no one's body warmth to sink into, no one's softly whispered words into your ear to drift you to sleep. Cold is when instead of your husband, only dim stars, a bottle of liquor, and the tears that stream your face join you in bed.
When was the last time you had felt warmth? 
You recall when the Knave first started courting you, how gentlemanly she was for such a rumored cruel Harbinger. You were first just a caretaker of the House of the Hearth, this small orphanage which you quickly found to be home for you. You couldn't help but adore the endearing children, watching as you slowly became a staple in this family. Despite your best efforts of hiding it, Arlecchino noticed when you snuck in the occasional pastry or cake from the town's most lavious bakery for the children, out of your own paycheck as well. It was then, your husband admitted, when she first fell for you. It had taken her months of encouragement from her ‘pestering’ children before she asked you out, and it was impossible to not fall for her charm.
How could you not? Not when she held you like you were her world. Not when she viewed you higher than the Tsaritsa herself. Not when her touch was heavenly, her words silky and sweet. When she proposed to you, your heart leapt with levity, and you thought your life was perfect now. A warm house, fitted with warm parents, that was what you had had, you had never felt so content. 
Then came the long nights. Nights when she trudged home later than usual, where she fell asleep without a word but sunk into your arms still. Then she started forgetting, forgetting about the dates and birthdays, and anniversaries more and more. At first, you chalked it up to her demanding Harbinger duties, but as time grew and the excuses started to run out, the perfect life you knew was crumbling. 
You became aware of this two years after your marriage when you had been preparing dinner for the two of you once she arrived home, slow cooking a steak since the early hours of the morning. Just as you exited the kitchen, you heard some children surrounding your husband before she left for another Harbinger meeting, telling her that you had a surprise for her once she came home and how excited you were for her to enjoy a new recipe you created. Your heart swelled with hope and appreciation for your children, especially when Arlecchino promised she would return in time. 
You should have known better.
You ate your tear-ridden steak alone and went to bed, leaving the steak out for her for whenever she returned home. Just like how you fell asleep, you woke up without your husband's presence, and when you arrived at the kitchen, the meat and the note besides the plate were untouched. 
You tried to eat the cold steak for lunch as well. You threw it away at the first bite. That day, you gathered your children, pleading them not to ‘pester’ Father with more reminders, as she was very busy. All that you gained back from the children was pitied expressions, and the agony in your chest worsened. Your children could pity you, but your husband couldn't? Even with your husband's coldness, you still carried out your Mother role, if only for the children. You cannot deny that the children's antics helped you forget the ever-present void inside you, caused by Arlecchino. 
You never learned the reason for Arlecchino's behavior, why she had grown so cold towards you. Now, you suppose, you would never know.  
Red fills your hazy vision as you lay on the ground, your entire body aching and fatigued, desperate gasps for air while your heart pounds in your eardrums. Your side was sliced, and the crimson liquid quickly poured out of the wound while you tried to stop the bleeding, but to no avail. 
This is your end, you think to yourself as you weakly turn on your side, every nerve in your body protesting against the movement. Your bloodied hand comes into view, your engagement and wedding ring gleaming slightly underneath the blood. The rings bring your thoughts to Arlecchino–oh, how you imagine the common disappointment in her otherwise apathetic expression, disappointment at your mission's failure. Your eyes bubbled and blurred with tears, vivid memories of your wedding flashing through your mind. The wedding ring is beautiful, still polished with that bold scarlet, the same color of her eyes, the same eyes you could never stop drowning in.
Would she even know your absence? Would she ever acknowledge you, treat you properly like her partner even if you did return? You doubt it. Did you want to return a cold bed, to a husband that does not love you, to a house no longer warm? 
It's warm. 
Your body feels like fire courses through your veins as you feel inexplicably hot, yet it's a welcomed heat. It's the first time you've felt this, but it feels familiar, comforting, like a hearth, and you want nothing more than to surrender to it. It soothes your heartbeat and calms your breath, easing your body as if you were to sink into the most plush of beds, swallowed by the thickest of blankets. The warmth coils around you, wrapping you like a cozy embrace, evoking you to sleep. Your eyes flutter shutter, a faint smile plastered on your lips.
It feels just like Peruere's arms. 
— 
Arlecchino receives a letter addressed to her on the third day you've been sent on a mission. The contents make her drop the paper, and she rushes outside, without an additional word, leaving the House. 
The children do not see her until she returns late into the night, a body wrapped in cloth in her arms. Arlecchino raised her children to be smart, to be attentive, to be logical. Whose body it is, they realize with little difficulty. 
The children weep that night. Arlecchino does not. How can she, when her source of emotions is gone? 
The burial takes place soon afterwards. As your body is placed into the ground, Arlecchino can feel the weight of her children's stare on her back. The charged tension between her and the children is palpable without words. She cannot discern which of the two reactions cut deeper. The seething fury underneath the oppressive grief for the young ones, having to lose another parent, or the crushing dismay inhabited by the older ones, specifically the twins and Freminet. 
Their thoughts are clear, even when none of them speak out loud. 
How could you fail Mother?
The House of the Hearth no longer suits the orphanage's name, not with your missing presence. There is no warmth, no matter how much the trio tries to fuel a lost flame. Even with Arlecchin's pyro vision, it is futile.
Arlecchino stands before your gravestone, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in her hand, and she rests it beside the other bouquets by your grave. Six bouquets in total, for each day after your burial. 
“For all the flowers, I should have given you, my love,” she whispers as she addresses you, glancing up to the heavens. The last two words make her feel like a fraud, undeserving of calling you hers, when she had clearly never shown so. 
Arlecchino, the Knave, the Fatui Harbinger, does not plead, does not beg, does not kneel. However, her knees drop to her dirt, and she grovels. “Please… wait for me one more time, my dear. Once I meet you again, I promise I'll never leave you alone, I'll never let you out of my arms again.”
There is no reply. 
Arlecchino feels cold. 
258 notes · View notes
sxorpiomooon · 4 months ago
Text
How do they feel about you - pac reading
Paid readings
Tip me
Check out my masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pile 1
Pile 1 I'm sorry, the first thing I noticed was that my eyes kept forcing themselves to shut down for some reason it's like when you are thinking about someone and you sort of force yourself not to that's the vibe. I feel as if this person feels like you are walking away from this connection. I want to tell you that you are very brave for making this decision as I can see how stressed you look. Pile 1 might be extremely exhausted I heard "it's time to go" and had a vision of a clock tickling a brown one very light or dark academia core I think it was 9 o clock? I heard "i let go off what no longer serves me". This person has a victim complex they still that they are the victim here, the one who was wronged they are refusing to see the truth it reminds me of the first thing I mentioned while writing this the eye thing. This person self sabotages things and then cries about it. It's like someone is crying with their eyes closed to everyone that they are tied with rope and can't move but they don't realise that they are never tied in the first place. OML im so mad😭😭😭 this person has placed everything in your power I'll tell you what this is the kind of man who would NEVER plan ANY dates or anything and will ALWAYS say "we'll see" etc I'm so mad this person refuses to put any efforts and wants you to do all the WORK and they might also Gaslight you oh my pile 1 you are doing right throw this son of. A bitch away this made me mad too. Also for those who need it, the flower that you guys choose is lotus and the reason why lotus is my favourite flavour is because even while being surrounded by mud, it never loses it's beauty and goodness. I hope you remember that<3
Pile 2
i like this whoever this person is they might be really forgetful air signs if you are asking about a man ooo he good looking might have good eyes but dark circles I'm seeing a dark blue tshirt and very dim yellow lights is this a party no idea a libra is involved anyways this might be a new connection or you guys might be starting a new cycle. Also the second thing I got and I forgot to include was that whenever this person remembers you they might do it in a very pleasant manner it's like a bunch of people talking about you and all a sudden they'll be like "ooooooo xyz? Oh yea they're good they're nice they're very nice i like them" that's the vibe I'm seeing whiskey??? This connection has alot of raw potential only slowly unleashing or revealing itself now, you have the power to take this connection wherever you want it go rn. There are endless possibilities. Apples keep playing in my head SOMEONE STPP IT. I hope you don't take this the wrong way but I feel like either they feel like this or its both of your energy but there's something about childhood trauma here I keep hearing something shattering like plates or glasses broken family and disharmony is what I heard. And this person might also think that you might be a loner or someone who just really enjoys their own company I had a vision of painting? I guess this might also be interpreted as this was a connection with alot of potential but past trauma kinda ruined shit for the both of you and if that's the case I'm so sorry to my pile 2
Pile 3
Someone here might speak like singing as in even while saying normal sentences you might say it in a very melodious manner something about singing also had a vision of a takeaway as in the window and vibing alibi started playing YOU WONT BELIEVE WHAT UUST HAPPENEDNNOTONCE BUT TWIECE OKAY MY RUMBLR CRASHED OUT OF NOWHERE AND THEN OPENED AND I WAS SVARWD THAT MY 3NTIRE READING WILL BE WASTED BUTBIT GOT RESTORED AND THEN IT HAPPENED AGAIN BUT AGAIN IT WAS RESTORED. Anyways for some of you something might have happened in this connection that destroyed it as in there was so much hope and light which all ended up in darkness for some reason "all this rage was once love" came to my mind and a very nice warming instrumental played in my head. This is a pile for a very few of you, you might be asking for a past connection. I think there is hope however there's also a need to let go off your emotional baggage in order to continue to connection or for anything. This person also feels this way, that you might have walked away or both of you did because of the unreleased trauma. I hope everything works out in your favour pile 3 <3
193 notes · View notes
n3ptoonz · 11 months ago
Note
Hello! Can you write Baraka, Syzoth, Kenshi and Liu Kang reacting to an s/o who likes to trace their tattoos. (Also tattoos are hot)
hiya and i certainly can anon! (i fully agree. whenever i see THAT raiden skin i literally want to jump through a closed window)
mk1 hcs: how baraka, syzoth, kenshi, and liu kang react to their s/o tracing their tattoos
warnings: none; fluff
Baraka
Would be confused at first. He had lost most of his sense of humanity since his affliction, so he'd think you just got bored or wanted his attention
When you explained how his tats were interesting and wanted to know the reasons/origins of them, he was genuinely surprised. Nobody has ever asked him such a thing, let alone pay that much attention to him or his tattoos
Now he doesn't mind it and lets you do as you please. He purposely wears sleeveless shirts around you all the time just so you'll get the idea to trace his tats later
Syzoth
Since the first noticeable tattoo is on his face, he'd get startled the first time you did it. You were waiting for him to wake up one day and became interested in them suddenly
He'd ask what's so cool about tattoos in the first place since he's not originally human. It's not that he doesn't value them, but to him they are more important in the sense of they reminded him of his family (i made that shit up don't quote me), not necessarily "cool" and you had to explain you took interest in all the above
Now he fully welcomes it and would probably go as far as being around you more often to get you to notice and engage in some form of physical touch that ends up in tracing his tattoos
Kenshi Takahashi
I feel like sometimes he didn't like his own tats. Being a former Yakuza and all, he wouldn't get why you think they're cool. You tell him despite their origin they objectively look really cool and make him look even cooler/finer and now he's a happy camper
Whatever his thoughts were slowly vanished out of his own mind. Though he can't really see them anymore, he likes that someone he's in love with is for one not scared away by his past but also thinks they make him look cooler? After a while he'd start appreciating them himself
Also the type of man to walk around the house either shirtless or a tank top more often because "he gets hot easily" righttt righttttt. He loves the sensation of your touch on his body too. I'll never stop advocating for him appreciating other senses more post losing his sight!!!
Liu Kang
He has a lot of tats so like, he's going to think you're asking for a lil alone time wink which he doesn't oppose to but sometimes you simply just find interest in appreciating his ink
He will not shy away from telling you the origins and history behind each and every one. He'd even show you the ones he got for fun. He may be a god, but he was human first who lowkey liked to have as much fun as his comrade, Kung Lao, he was just better at hiding it
He now offers you to do it while you're cuddling or just chilling around each other; in reality he looks forward to it since he's never heard of such a fascinating with something like tattoos and it brought you two closer
a/n: i hope this was good enough! i've been writing so much lately just in general my brain is kinda mush ngl but i ain't no bitch! plus i gotta think more for smut so i went for fluff lol
555 notes · View notes
florenceafternoon · 4 months ago
Text
━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━
These fics are set in the wizarding world but aren’t necessarily canon complaints.
A while ago I posted about how one of my favourite part of reading canon jily is when they're a bit older and Lily is looking back in retrospect. The part where James shows her how he gets that this war that's looming over them, it's bigger, older, than they are and even though the world feels like it's ending his top priority is that they remember to enjoy the happy moments. To live in those moments.
Jily has always been a hot cup of tea on a cold and rainy day for me. I hope these fics give you a short break from life, even if it's just for a moment.
For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries.
Tumblr media
These first few fics are all by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Abi's characterisation of Lily and James as individuals are so special to me. How she writes jily is perfect - I mean the banter, the tension, the overall dynamic between them is just on point!
basic maths
Euphemia cuts Sirius off sharply. “I was simply verifying whether this is indeed the same Lily Evans whose name is written under my dining room table with a heart around it.”
or: Lily meets the parents and James tries not to hyperventilate. over and over and over again.
we suffer in silence
"It's fine, Evans," James interrupts, waving off her apology and offering a reassuring smile. "You've always been an exception to the rule." A hint of warmth spreads through Lily at his words. "You've never liked rules." He chuckles softly, his lips quirking up in a lopsided grin. "Which is why I never had a difficult time liking you."
or: James has had a bad day and Lily gives her best go at cheering him up
I've already made a whole post about how much I love this fic with my favourite quotes and everything, but god please if you read anything today let it be Abi's jily fics because they are legendary.
star light, star bright
It's seventh year, somehow, that clinches the case, claiming the grand prize in the annals of Lily Evans's misfortunes. Because, as it turns out, harbouring feelings for James Potter while also navigating the precarious terrain of friendship with him is a fate crueller than death.
or: James keeps accidentally touching Lily and she's about to lose her mind
amenable parameters
“Truth or dare, Lil?” “Dare,” she replies without hesitation, leaning back into the worn leather booth. “Obviously.” Hestia’s eyes gleam. “Go snog Potter.”
or: lily gets brave and james's patience is rewarded
here lies
James can't hold his drink, or his affections
the start of (something) new
“Oh, really?” Petunia crosses her arms. “What’s his name then?”
Lily pauses here, but only for a moment as her mind flashes back to the field at Jubilee Gardens. “James,” she says confidently. “James Potter.”
TW: this fic does depict a slightly descriptive panic attack.
Lily you are so valid for looking. For those of you who've seen the AU rec list I just posted, please know that this fic is the reason why I added all those footballer!james fics (well this fic and the euros).
common ground
Lily pauses, suddenly aware of James’s intense gaze. “What? Why are you…” Heat rushes to her cheeks, and she hates it. “Why are you looking at me like that?” “Nothing,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s just…it’s a good look on you, Evans.” “What is?” she asks, self-consciously. His grin widens. “Mischief.”
sidewalk chalk, covered in snow
She didn’t mean to get used to any of them.
or: Lily Evans is strictly anti-Marauders…until she isn't. one by one.
waiting for the light to take us in
James removes his glasses again. “Evans…” He searches for something to say and settles on, “You don’t even like flying.”
“I could like flying,” Lily says, shrugging. “I like you.”
He doesn’t take that bait in the way she wants, and her heart sinks just a bit more. Instead, he chews at his lip, considering and considering and considering some more. Lily wants to scream.
A reminder that even though it seems like others may have it harder, you deserve a break too.
Questions and Answers by lizardcookie (on ao3)
The simple question of whether or not they're dating doesn't exactly have a simple answer. Seventh Year Jily.
A Very Sick Dear by Nostalgicdragonfly (on ao3)
It's a very rare disease, but James gets it anyway and he has to endure the pain of having the favorite flower of the person he loves growing in his chest. He's been hiding his struggles. Lily loves roses yet James is the one getting cut by their thorns. But when a new healer arrives and things get out of hand, a lot would depend on whether or not James accepts his only treatment.
or James has hanahaki disease
Thank You For The Music by @thelighthousestale
Lily Evans is homesick during her first year of Hogwarts. Then she hears a familiar tune.
Erasmus Lovegoods’s Guide to Brewing Love Potions also by @ /thelighthousetale
At the start of every school year, the Ministry of Magic distributed leaflets to all students taking potions classes regarding the regulations and legality of highly controlled potions.
Lily Evans thought the Ministry would probably have more success in decreasing illegal potions brewing on the castle grounds if they didn’t give such detailed instructions about the potions in its published propaganda literature.
Of course, every year's most popular leaflet was the one warning about the dangers of brewing love potions.
Or how an accidental explosion in NEWT-level potions finally forced Lily and James to confront their feelings.
falling into place by @charmingwillow
Lily overhears something that maybe she shouldn't have.. things sort of happen from there.
Limbo by Random-Musings (on ff.net)
Lily's sour Hogsmeade weekend takes an unexpected turn.
The next few fics are all from it's about the Gazing collection by @firefeufuego. I recommend this collection to my friend who doesn’t read jily and the first fic alone had her texting me "I get why you love them so much and I also get why you want James Potter"
(get on out of your seat) all eyes on me
As James stops to catch his breath, he also catches Lily’s eye, already fixed on him in the blatant, unblinking way he hasn’t seen since she used to verbally eviscerate him for minutes on end. It hits with the same mortifying heat as it always did then, when he used to stand there watching her yell at him and imagine her mouth doing everything else. He’s ridiculously grateful for whoever throws the ball straight towards his face for saving him from the fate of just standing there, watching her watch him with his dry mouth open for the rest of eternity.
In a movement of pure reflex, he grabs the ball out of the air and starts back towards the end of the pitch before Orie comes out of nowhere and takes his legs out from under him. Winded and disoriented, James sighs at the universe’s rather unsubtle visual metaphor. Is it even worth getting up again when he just keeps falling and falling and falling for her?
(soft spoken in the dead of night) all eyes on you
Lily has watched him do this multiple times before and it’s just tea and it’s just James and there should be nothing special about this particular moment, except that the sight of him, the fact of him, is suddenly earth-shattering.
Something like nostalgia fills her in a flood, only it’s the future she’s longing for, a future she can see with absolute clarity. The features James inherited from his parents are so faithfully recreated on him that it’s easy to imagine him at their age, with a shock of white, still unfairly thick hair framing a face lined by a lifetime of laughter, making her a cup of tea exactly the way she likes it and smiling as she teases him.
Don't be fooled by the summery, this is pure self indulgent smut. I complain a lot about pretentious people but the Austen and Keats reference had me swooning. The myth of Eros and Psyche is probably one of my favorites so…
in the morning when i wake or the morning after
With trembling hands, James brings the smaller piece of parchment closer to his face and starts to read.
To the love of my life,
You idiot. Get back here.I’ll be in your room.
Lily.
Surface Pressure by @eastwindmlk
Lily dealing with the weight of her own expectations in 7th year
no, i could never give you peace by @kay-elle-cee
James blinks. “Are you breaking up with me, Evans?” he jokes softly, resting his hand on hers. It’s a joke, but her body tenses and it immediately puts him on edge. The silence that follows is excruciating.
“I’m not doing anything.” Her nails begin to tap on the mug again—a nervous habit that James spots immediately. “I just think we should have a conversation.”
Trust Kels to serve Order!jily angst and pair it with one of my favourite songs of all time
bury it and rise above by @startanewdream
"James? Do you believe in magic?"
Or Lily is a Witch. James is a Muggle. It's not easier.
When It's You by idreamofjily (on ao3)
James is naturally affectionate and Lily really isn't. But maybe she can make an exception, if the way her stomach drops every time James touches her is any indication.
desiderium by @missgryffin
Sometimes all it takes is champagne and a slow dance, and then there's no going back.
The Vow also by @ /missgryffin
When he was thirteen-going-on-fourteen, James Potter did something truly, unbelievably stupid. Now that he’s seventeen-going-on-eighteen, he has to deal with the consequences.
Accidental Magic also by @ /missgryffin
What else is there to do after confessing feelings in the middle of the night than spend a lazy Saturday in bed?
Are You Experienced? by @annabtg
James Potter decides to ask Lily Evans to a Muggle live music show. This noble mission, however, requires a series of steps he is entirely clueless about: from procuring the tickets to finding the correct outfit, and most importantly, to spending an evening with Lily Evans without making an absolute fool of himself.
Also including the gorgeous cover art by @constancezin
by the lake by @possessingtheproperspirit
james finds lily by the lake.
not in need of a knight by @thejilyship
“If they start something, I’m going to finish it.” James said, crossing his arms over his chest. “And if it ends with you in the hospital wing?” “What do you care?” “Do you really think I’d bother to argue with you so much if I didn’t care?” Lily said, breathing sharply through her teeth.
214 notes · View notes
loverstrings · 2 months ago
Text
Just sulking.
fatherfigure!aaron hotchner x gn!reader
summary: In a confused state, Hotch reminds you what lead to it. warning: HEAVY ANGST, happy/hopeful ending, reader dissociated, cheating (not by reader or hotch), reader calls hotch 'dad', hotch calls reader 'sweetheart' and 'honey', no use of y/n a/n: RAAAA gaud sometimes my own writings got me fucked up. I hope you enjoy reading this one the way I enjoyed writing it. I was also listening to Decode by Paramore so that’ll be mentioned in the fic hehehe. I didn't really proofread it, sorry for grammar errors.
You snap back into the conversation when you notice your heart racing, tear stains drying on your face and your palm throbbing in pain. Why are you standing? You look around you and see papers and trinkets that lived on your desk now on the floor next to you. Why does every part of your body feel strained? After looking at the aftermath of your desk you look straight ahead to see Hotch, eyes soften, he’s standing, why is he standing your tissue box in his hands. You try reading it, trying to make a profile of why he’s in your office and why Paramore was playing in the background.
“Hotch” You whisper. Slowly losing your composer, the cracks of vulnerability showing. Something you promised yourself you wouldn’t ever show Hotch. He already takes care of so much, you barely wanted him to take care of you too. Hotch didn’t dare to speak until you asked your question. He saw the gears turning in your head. He saw the anger that was once there fade into confusion and fear. So he gave you a soft hum, so you know that he’s acknowledging you. 
Tears start to trickle down your face. A small sound came out of your mouth, almost like a whimper. You didn’t understand, what happened? How’d you end up like this? And what the fuck happened to your voice?
With all the courage you can muster, your frail voice chokes out “H-hotch, what happened?” More tears start to slip out, you sniffle them back and continue. “Please, I don’t understand. Dad, please I don’t I-” The confusion and fear completely taking over your speech. Now tears are streaming down your face as you slip further into feeling fearful of yourself   
In that moment, Aaron’s closed off professional personality completely shatters when you call him ‘Dad’. You and Hotch aren’t related, he was just a father figure for you since you joined the team at 24. He hasn’t seen you dissociate this quickly since the first heavy case you experienced years ago. Here you both are, standing in your home office with papers and gifts scattered on the floor.  Hotch came to visit and drop off some food, he and the team realized you hadn’t been at work and knew something was up. So they sent their resident dad to the rescue knowing Hotch had a softer spot for you the same way he had one for Jack. 
He tells you all of this while sitting you down in your office chair. He continues explaining that with the extra keys you gave him. He let himself in to drop the food and card that Jack and the team wrote up for you. Expecting you to be too sick to get out of bed, but he saw your office door open, lights dimmed and Decode by Paramore playing a little louder than he expected.
In true BAU fashion Hotch took out his gun to clear the rooms in your house before slowly entering the office. He heard you before he saw you, you were humming to the song. Lowering his gun and holstering it he knocked on the wall and announced himself while calling out for you. You give him a quick ‘yeah’ in response as you continue what you were doing. Hotch walked closer to see what you were so in trance with. That’s when he saw you sitting at your desk looking at your phone. He peered his head over to see what exactly you were looking at and saw you scrolling through instagram. He notices there is no purpose with scrolling and you look stunned. 
He softened up, “Sweetheart, what are you looking at?” Leaning over your desk so you can hear him a little better.
Slouching further in your chair you mumble, “Nothing, just sulking today.” Hotch didn’t believe you so he pushes and asks you “What did you find out?”
You look up from your phone to make eye contact with Hotch. “They've been dating for about 5 months. Well that’s what the instagram story says.” You can barely look at Hotch because you see him, you see Aaron and not Hotch and it utterly breaks you. You have promised him that this guy was different and Hotch approved. Ever since you joined the BAU, you have always looked for his approval. His word  was the one that meant the world to you.
“We broke up 5 months ago, something felt wrong and I tried to profile him but he used me and this team as an excuse to break up. There was never a conversation about why he just left. ” You rise from your seat, hands pressing into your desk, making intense eye contact with the man in front of you.
“Hotch, he lied to me. He lied about everything and before we even broke up faked his love for me but I was so fucking love sick to notice. I should have noticed something, right?”  You don’t realize you raised your voice as you continued talking. “I’m a fucking profile at the BAU for god fucking sake how come I didn’t see it coming.” Pacing from behind your desk, you run your hands through your hair while tears fall onto your cheeks.
“I can’t believe I let this happen to me.” You scuff to yourself, Hotch still standing in front of you. He kept his mouth shut, if he says anything it could possibly antagonize you. So he lets you continue until you can’t anymore, it looks like you’ve hid all this hurt from him for a long time, longer than 5 months. “You know what” you’re pointing at Hotch now, eyes look like they’ve lost life and rage took over.  Hotch sees you dissociating now, he tries to respond to your question but you cut him off. 
“Everytime we’re on a mission, he doesn’t pick up the phone. He would text and say he was busy.” Your voice is straining from raising it, something Hotch thought he’d only see in the field. “So I call who I thought was my best friend because after cases I want something to feel normal, you know. I wanted to talk to someone who doesn’t know what we’ve seen. And god how can I be so fucking stupid. S-she would keep secrets when talking about her day and I didn’t push it because I trusted but god fucking damnit Hotch it was all there. All the evidence was there.” You’re choking up now, the tears streaming faster than you can think, the music seemed to hit harder. “She was supposed to be my best friend. I told her how he didn’t love me once, I told her so many secrets about him so she knew how fucked up he was. But she took his side, she defended him while caring for me.” 
Now you feel insane because you laugh, you let out a crazed laugh. Running your hands through your hair again you look at your desk. 
Hotch is watching you intensely now, feeling like your next move will harm someone in the room. He moves back and watches you contemplate something, raising your hands you push all the contents on your desk with a loud “Fucking asshats. How can you do that to someone you care about?” The screaming and yelling turned into confusion and fear. Which leads to your current state. 
“Woah, I said all of that.” You mumble out, Hotch is kneeling in front of you, hand in his as he cleans your wound.
“Yeah, I’m sorry that happened to you sweetheart. You know outside of this room is some ramen I got from your favorite spot and a card from Jack and the team.” He looks at you now, the light in your eyes start to come back so he pushes another question “How ‘bout I call everyone for a small movie night and you can talk to the girls about what happened.” You look at him with hope and nod, explaining that them coming over would be nice. 
“Sounds good, honey. I’ll call them right now” He says while rising to reach for his phone. Before he calls he turns back to you and says “Don’t worry about the mess, Reid and I will clean it up. I bet he knows exactly where everything was.” You let out a sad chuckle because Hotch is right, Spencer has taken hostage of your office because his words ‘the atmosphere is the same but completely different from his home’.
An hour later, you’re sitting on your couch. A blanket over your lap, as you eat the ramen Hotch brought for you. The team is spread out around your kitchen and dining table, you realize they also brought over everyone’s ramen order to make you feel less guilty for being the only one eating it. During that time, Spencer completely reorganized your desk and left you one of your favorite candies for you to find the next day. The rest of the team came bearing beers and wine, giggling that today is finally the day a team sleepover happens. 
Still in your head you don't notice the slight dip in the couch until you look over and see Emily with a glass of wine in her hand. “So my love, tell me everything.” You giggle and tell the whole group to gather around, yelling that you don’t want to repeat the same story 6 other times. 
111 notes · View notes