#but even he can be fragile sometimes. More than he realizes
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yeleltaan · 11 hours ago
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How do you need to be touched?
Two results depending on the answer to one question:
gently.
You need to be held as though you're going to break. you need someone to trace your scars like cracks in a wall, crumbling. their touch is almost painful; you've been without it for too long, without someone to hold you. but, you cannot bring yourself to pull away.
fervently.
You crave a hug that cracks your ribs... the feeling of your wandering soul being crushed back into the bones that can't seem to hold it. you need a hand gripping yours so tightly you almost fear it may leave a bruise, a reminder that you are here. and that you are not alone.
Tagged by: @derjaegermond ! Thanks 8] Tagging: hey... hey you. Reader. I'm tagging you.
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maskedbyghost · 26 days ago
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when simon wakes up in a hospital, the last thing you expect is for him to grab your hand, pull you close, and say, “hey, there you are, love.” his voice is so soft, so sure, it leaves you speechless. you stare at him, half in shock, because this is ghost—simon riley, the one person who’s kept every feeling locked up.
“simon, do you… do you remember anything?” you ask, testing the waters.
he blinks, looking at you with confidence. “of course, i remember. you’re my wife.”
you freeze. his wife? this is new, and you’re not sure where he got the idea, but before you can correct him, johnny walks in, taking one look at the two of you and biting back a grin. he leans in, whispering to you, “maybe just… go with it for now, eh?” he’s got that teasing glint in his eye, and something tells you there’s no harm in humoring simon for a bit, if it can be helpful for his recovery.
so, you go along with it. and to your surprise, simon doesn’t act confused—in fact, he’s more open with you than he’s ever been. suddenly, he’s holding your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world, always looking for you, keeping you close, calling you “love” or “darlin’” in front of everyone. he’s even got that soft smile every time you catch his eye, one that makes it hard to remember this isn’t real.
the team’s amused but supportive, playing along with the whole story. simon keeps asking you little things, like what your favorite meal is, or how you usually spend your days when he’s away, as if filling in gaps in a life he believes you share. you find yourself answering with things that feel so genuine, and the way he listens—focused, attentive��feels more intimate than anything you’ve shared before.
one day, you’re patching up a minor scrape on his hand, and he just watches you, eyes soft, like he’s memorizing every detail. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. it’s so genuine, so open, that for a second, you forget it’s all just part of his memory loss.
then, one night, he pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours, eyes serious. “do you ever think about us?” he asks softly, like he’s trying to get at something just out of reach. “how we’d be if things were… different?”
you’re not sure how to answer because there’s no script for this. “sometimes,” you admit, feeling a pang of something deep and unspoken. and for the first time, you’re almost grateful he can’t remember—because maybe, just maybe, it’s the only reason he’s letting himself be this vulnerable with you.
as the days pass, you start catching little glimpses, small things that make you wonder if he knows more than he’s letting on. he catches you watching him once, and instead of asking why, he just gives you this little smile, one that feels like he’s in on the secret. and just when you’re starting to think this is all some kind of twisted dream, he pulls you aside.
“i know i’m supposed to remember,” he whispers, “but i don’t want this to end. not yet.”
it’s in that moment you realize the truth. he’s been aware all along—he’s been pretending just as much as you, holding on to this fragile, temporary illusion because, maybe, he needs it just as much as you do.
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hii!! i'm backkk!! send some requests plsss, byee <333
@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving
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carebearbussy · 4 months ago
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ᥫ᭡ imagining heian era! sukuna tending to his pregnant wife, and slowly warming up to having a child.
౨ৎ when he finds out you are pregnant, he goes full 'nonchalant, but worried husband' mode. he did not want kids. he thought they were lousy and annoying, and they would not bring any use to his bloodline. he told you that this would just get in his way, and that you should find a way to get rid of it. but the way you looked up at him with your adorable dazzling eyes? eh, he could make it work, just for you. but he found it hard to warm up to the idea of having children.
౨ৎ hires the best of the best to guarantee your health is in tact. doctors? you will have daily checkups, which included the doctor coming to the estate, and keeping track of your daily prgress while you are bedside. such as seeing if the baby is kicking, how large your stomach grows, and even recommending you a special diet to hold the nutrients for your baby. he is doing all of this for you, not that pesky baby. handmaidens? they will double in number. you are more fragile than ever, and in his eyes, you need all of the female support you can get that he cannot provide.
౨ৎ would host a grand babyshower. there would be hundreds, even thousands of guests at your babyshower. it would be hosted somewhere with a large, outside venue, bustling with people coming to support you. people would give you their blessings, hoping the best for the newcoming ryomen. gifts for the baby such as clothes, furniture, etc. and for you? people will gift you a plethora of things. jewelry, trinkets, and everything under the sun. the citizens of the nearby villages will bow to your feet, wishing you the best. your pregnancy will be treated as an event. around the villages, it will be talked about.
౨ৎ makes a extravagant nursery for your child. it will be in a large room, making extra space for your baby. sukuna will notice you spend alot of time there, watching you decorate the nursery to your pleasing day by day. liked seeing you struggle to put the furniture together, as you are forced to ask him for help, as you watch his assemble a bassinette. you could tell he was starting to get used to the idea of having a child around the estate. as you list off all of your ideas for how you would decorate, he liked to think you might be a suitable mother.
౨ৎ you held a giant journal of names, keeping track of each one as time goes by. you wrote in the journal with an ink pen, sometimes even letting sukuna in on the name choosing. as you sat on his lap in his large office, he would suggest 'little roach', or 'annoying brat' for some of the names, which was quickly shut down. you will think intently upon each name, asking sukuna on his opinion. sukuna thinks he should be the one naming the child, but with his suggestions, that will not be happening. you'd be better off asking some of your handmaidens for advice.
౨ৎ would ask any ladies in the estate for advice as well. this is something he thought he would never have to do. but he finds it difficult to ajust to your pregnancy, due to your influx in hormones, making you seem emotional all the time. would ask your handmaidens why you become so emotional, but they seem offended with the way he worded it. but they realize that sukuna is naturally brash, so they help him by giving him tips and tricks for fatherhood. he tries his best, mostly caring about what he thinks is best for you, not so much your child.
౨ৎ liked looking at your stomach more often than he thought he would. he never knew you would look so goddamn cute swollen with his child, but here he was, watching as you lay in bed, reading a book of poems, as he sees his future child kicking inside your uterus. you child was larger than an average one, he noticed, due to his abnormal genes. placing his large hand over your stomach, he could feel every single kick, asking you questions as it happens. "why does this brat kick so much? tell him to stop." "kuna, hes a baby..." "i do not care, he needs to learn to stop being so restless."
౨ৎ your delivery will send him into internal panic. he demands that he is in the room with you, holding your hand. but your large group of handmaidens by your side strongly disagree, reccomending that he let you be. but making sure you were okay was his top priority, so he stayed in the large bedroom where you gave birth. your head and body would be covered in towels, your hands tightly cuffing your handmaidens. it was extremely painful, as your screams could be heard from afar. but with the way sukuna had rubbed his thumb on your cheek, it made you feel slightly better. after you, he would be the first to hold your child, demanding so himself.
౨ৎ he wants a boy, 100%. he is hoping for a strong heir that can add onto his legacy, even though it isnt entirely necessary. if he ends up having a son, he will teach him the ways of manhood. teaching him how to hunt his own humans, how to properly court a lady (in his mind), and how to become as strong as him someday. and most of all, how to take care of his mother. he will not tolerate any disrespect towards you. he will call his son names like 'ryomen 2.0', or 'annoying rat'.
౨ৎ but if he gets a girl? he will be upset when he finds out. but he will come around to love her after quite a while. will go from calling her a nuisance, to hosting mini tea parties with her stuffed animals which were gifted by her auntie handmaidens, squeezing himself into a small chair at a small dining table with fake tea and pastries. he will truly care for his daughter, and will become extremely overprotective over her. he will call her 'little princess', or 'spoiled brat'.
౨ৎ enjoys watching you tend to your children. he secretly enjoyed the fact that he could call you 'the mother of his children'. being domestic with you is something he had never imagined in his life, but here he was, burping your small newborn over his shoulder with one hand. he likes to see the way your eyes light up when your child walks for the first time, or when they say their first words. he doesnt think it is important, but since its you, he doesnt say anything. "woman, what are you freaking out over?" "come quick! he just said 'papa'!" "i knew it, thats my child alright."
౨ৎ but he will absolutely refuse to change the babys diapers. do not ever ask him to do that, he will very rudely decline. bu dont worry. like everything else, he will come around to do so.
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lunarw0rks · 9 months ago
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────141 headcanons: touching the belly────
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a/n: y'all know i'm a sucker for the the pregs trope so i had to do this request. and i only did the four dinguses for this one, sorry anon ☺️
warning(s): pregnancy, fluff+angst, invasion of reader's personal space/privacy, protectiveness, hurt/comfort?, afab!reader
‧˚₊ MAIN MASTERLIST ⟢ 141 MASTERLIST ‧₊˚⊹
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๋࣭ ⭑ PRICE
⌞one of the perks of being married to john is being supported. quite literally the definition of it, in every form. that goes for your baby too, no questions asked. he's more akin to simon in being traditional while you're expecting. wants you home, resting and not lifting a finger.
he's very particular about who he lets close to you, more than ever now. it makes sense considering his work and the general fragility of a new family. in the same way as kyle, he's constantly stressed. wants everything to be perfect for you and soon to be little one.
always has his eye on you, just like he does all his men. there's nothing he doesn't see or already knows about. honestly, may even spot a bad apple before you do. won't even bother with politeness and will shoo them away before their hand(s) even make contact with your tummy.⌝
๋࣭ ⭑ SIMON
⌞ he was already protective enough before you got pregnant, but he's at a whole new level now. practically a full-time security guard by the time you reach your third trimester. ESPECIALLY when you two find yourselves out and about — which isn't often.
on the off chance that you're at some sort of gathering with simon, he's at your side no matter what. eyeing every person who approaches you, only chiming in when spoken to, out of mere courtesy. as soon as you give him any inkling of discomfort, he's asking you if he should go start the car.
one thing he hasn't gotten used to yet is the touching. how people often belaud pregnant women. cross boundaries constantly to get a feel of them and their bellies. it's already hard enough getting the man to relax, but it's hopeless now with all the new people he "needs" to keep an eye on. it's not a matter of him catching someone touching your belly; he'll already be standing there most likely. glares, huffs, will certainly go as far as removing their hand if it lingers long enough.⌝
๋࣭ ⭑ SOAP
⌞doesn't see any point in excluding you from functions if you think you can handle them. loves having you on his lap or right beside him when he's out, even in pregnancy. as long as you're comfortable and able to signal to him when you're too tired or need something — he's just happy you're there.
most of all, johnny is fiercely protective of the bump. more than he is of you (which is nearly unfathomable, i know). and if there's one thing he loves more than you — it's gushing about you to anyone who'll listen. so, initially, he might not notice someone making you tense while amid his blabbing.
but after so long with him, you've learned to accept the flattery for what it is and remember how easy it is for him to get distracted. a firm squeeze to his hand or a tug to his jacket will do the trick. but once realizes what's happening, he's on it (with his new Dad Speed). finds a way to distract the person and slip you the car keys. promises he'll be out in two minutes to drive you home — and he always is.⌝
๋࣭ ⭑ GAZ
⌞ even though he'd prefer you bundled up in bed and waiting for him, kyle still enjoys doing things with you. he definitely gives a wider berth than the other guys, but he's just as vigilant (if not more). he's more subtle about it, if anything.
it isn't just you to protect anymore, it's you and his baby. so, forgive the man for his pinched brows and clenched fists, he's reverted into nothing but a ball of anxiety the further the months progress.
doesn't mind people having a feel of you, usually, when they only mean well (it's typically older ladies anyhow). but sometimes it's a more unsavory interaction; someone who isn't taking any hints, who can't bear to leave the two of you alone. on one hand, gaz understands — an expectant, attractive couple out on a wholesome shopping trip is bound to lure attention. he takes a slower approach, less hostile to avoid upsetting you anyone. brushes it off with an excuse; "oh, love, you got that appointment today, right? don't wanna be late." and then makes his exit, a guiding hand around your waist.⌝
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bunnyrafe · 2 months ago
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s2!rafe hurts you— just like everyone said he would.
♥︎ 𝓃otes: i do not support, condone or encourage this behavior / abuse by any means. it is purely fiction xoxo
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it always starts and ends the same. beginning with rafe and his substance problems, and wrapping up with you crying— sometimes even on the ground. your friends tell you that you're brainwashed, but you never listen to their reasoning.
rafe is rafe— he's yours, and you're his. no one takes care of you like he does... until it all reaches it’s breaking point and his heavy hand is wrapped around your throat, nearly choking you to the point of no return. to where you're seconds away from your fleeting life flashing before your glassy eyes, of course.
because he's high again, and when he's high his fuse is even shorter than it normally is, but it’s never been this bad.
all you did was wince when he got too close to you— because you could smell it on him. that chemical, propane-like smell that he tries to hide by sniffling frantically and wiping at his nose. as if the drip at the back of his throat isn't torturing him... as if his jaw isn't clenched so tight as he speaks to you, as he hurts you.
"fuckin' hate that shit," he grits through his teeth so hard that you're afraid they may crack like porcelain as you watch him with equally tearful and wild eyes, attempting to claw at his wrist while he forces your head to shake around with his harsh grip on your fragile neck, "i'll— i can fuckin' give you somethin' t’be scared of if that's what you want."
he already is. he already has. you’re gasping for air, trying to hiccup his name out to get him to stop— even as your lungs begin to burn and your eyelids feel heavier, and heavier. the reality that you’re going to die by his hands becomes more real by the second, but you’re unable to cry anymore tears. unable to blubber out anything else as you fight to cling onto that last bit of life in you.
only for you to drop to your knees once his grip relents. they ache due to how hard you hit the floor, and your hands go flying out in front of you to ground yourself. all while rafe curses above you.
“look— fuck— come back to me, baby.” he’s rambling again, making your head spin even more as you fight to fill your aching chest back up with oxygen, try to endure the feeling of your heart pounding in your ears as he speaks, “i didn’t— listen to me— i wasn’t gonna go that far— i don’t know what… i don’t know what happened, okay?”
you see his feet moving out of the corner of your eye, pacing beside you— uncaring of the heap you’re in on the floor, as tears stream down your pretty yet exhausted and puffy face. you realize now that everyone warned you for a reason, a reason that is so far beyond his addiction— even his own sister.
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bats-and-the-birds · 8 months ago
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I like to think about young Dick Grayson a lot, and right now I'm specifically thinking about him from the Justice League's perspective.
Like, imagine you're in the Justice League, maybe you've been there for a few months, maybe for a few years, but either way, you know how it works. Superman's terrifyingly powerful, but you get over the fear factor as soon as you see him cry over a sad cat video, and Wonder Woman's still a bit intimidating, but as long as you're good and truthful, you can trust that she won't crush your head like a grape.
And Batman... well, you've made your peace with the fact that you'll never figure him out. You know literally nothing about him, other than the fact that he claims to be fully human, but you're not even really sure about that, because you're pretty sure he just materializes in the shadows sometimes. The only things that you're 100% sure of is that you're terrified of him, and you're so glad that he's not on someone else's side.
And then, suddenly, he has acquired a child. Just like everything else, you don't find out immediately, because god forbid that man tell his team anything. But you start to hear vague reports of another shadow trailing behind Batman in the night. Superman asks him about it one day, but of course, he doesn't respond, and they all wonder, but it never gets brought up again.
But one day, unexpectedly, that shadow is at a league meeting, and he's not as shadowy as you would have thought. In fact, he's wearing the most vibrant costume you've seen, and you spend all of your time with other heroes in spandex. He's also young. Terrifyingly young. It's his twelfth birthday, actually, he explains to the league, and he pestered 'B' until he agreed to take him to a meeting. You all agree later that he looks younger than twelve. And you worry about him, because why is this child in Batman's care? Can he really be trusted to look after someone so small, so young, so seemingly fragile?
Besides, Robin (Robin, his name is Robin, he's a songbird for christ's sake), is everything that you'd think Batman would hate. He talks everyone's ear off with a giant grin stretched across his entire face. He begs Superman to fly him around and cackles and claps as Wonder Woman demonstrates basic sword maneuvers for him. Before long, the whole team is in a better mood. Meanwhile, Batman stands in the shadows, his face impassive, with no explanation about the little masked boy that walked into the room hiding under his cape.
He leaves just as he came, disappearing under Batman's cape as the two exit the watchtower together, and the whole league is left to wonder how the fuck that child ended up in Batman's care, and whether or not they should intervene, because spending prolonged time in Batman's company cannot be healthy for a child.
But then he starts showing up more and more, popping up in some places that you know from Batman's glare he's not supposed to be. He's teamed up with that speedster boy and the two of them cause havoc, but Robin takes the lecture he gets with a grin and gives a half hearted promise to behave.
You steadily start to realize that he might not be as out of place in Batman's company as you originally thought. You realize that the boy is a performer through and through, and that extends to that grin of his that dazzled the team when they first met him. You get the impression that sometimes its genuine, yes, but you'd never know if it wasn't. His exuberance is a persona held in place as meticulously as Batman's grim seriousness.
And though you'd assumed that Batman's sidekick (partner, the boy insisted, rather intensely, though his smile never faltered) would be well trained, this kid could take down league members, you're sure. You quickly realize that he enjoys fighting, and he fights viciously, giggling and putting on a show, but leaving broken bones in his wake. Your first impression is that Robin was more human than the demon they called the Batman, but you quickly start to question that too. If Batman can materialize in shadows, then Robin can fly. He twists through the air like gravity doesn't affect him and lands with so much grace that you'd think he had hollow bones like his namesake. You're not fully convinced he doesn't, considering he climbs up the bat with no warning, clinging onto his back like he belongs there (you quickly start to think he does), or he'll throw himself through the air with no more warning than a quick 'catch' yelled to his partner. And Batman catches him. Batman always catches him. Everyone keeps an eye on him when he's up high, but there's a part of you that feels like it's impossible that he'd ever fall. Or at least, impossible that Batman would ever let him hit the ground.
And you start to think that Robin's exactly where he's supposed to be; perched on Batman's shoulder, hiding in his cape, or fighting by his side. You still hope there's a normal boy behind the mask, going to school and making friends with someone to tuck him in at night, but you also can't imagine anything normal about Robin, and maybe that's why he needs to be by Batman's side, and maybe that's why Batman needs him too.
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n0tamused · 5 months ago
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Hello! may i request a dr ratio fic where he randomly turns into an owl and now reader has to find a way to turn him back into a human, while reader finds a way, they take care of dr. owltio! its basically your typical "oh no my s/o turns into something and now i have to deal w it!" fanfic😭🙏 Ive seen silly tiktoks of veritas being an owl bc it resembles him so well🥹💗
A/n: I love those tiktoks sm bro 😭 They're so cute, I went to work on this as soon as I could. I hope I did this prompt justice, enjoy!
Contents: Veritas Ratio x GN! Reader, fluff, Owltio!
Words: 2465
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“Quit your back talking” you scold, voice sharp as you whip around to glare at the bird on the table. Poised even in this fragile form, the big owl straightened its back, standing a little taller and letting out an accusatory ‘whooo’ at you. Despite the mild irritation you felt, from almost hearing all he had to say in your mind in human tongue from his irritation of being turned into this, you couldn’t help the way your face crumbled into a grin. Lifting a hand to rub the bridge of your nose, you take a moment to simply breathe and bask in the irony of the situation you find yourself in. Cackling you shook your head, trying to hide your amusement behind your hand, but the sound already reached the bird’s ears and he was already sauntering over to the edge of the desk as if to scold you for ‘not taking this seriously enough’. 
More coos came from him as you offered no response, but this time much less sharp but more defeated as his big wings stood half outstretched - it’s not everyday one gets turned into an animal, and Veritas was certainly not adapting swiftly to the clumsy yet deadly feet of this avian. His walk was awkward as he shuffled across the desk, his feathery back now turned to you as he looked for something.
Audibly letting out a soft ‘awh’, you approach the desk again, muttering an apology to him. Your words are met with his head spinning around to look at you 180 degrees, cartoonishly funny and beyond amusing. “I’m sorry alright.. No need to go  sulking about. Doubt you’d be able to do much like this anyway, and goodness knows I’d burn in hell if I just left you- leaving you like this'' you cackle a little as you reach out to rub the top of his head. He ducks away, so you leave him be. “I will help you out, okay? We’re in this together, but you’ll have to be a little more cooperative with me, Veritas”
He looks at you, clicking his little beak as he swishes his way to another corner of the desk, flapping his wings, and only then do you realize just how hot it was in the room, a warm breath of air making the layers of clothes stick to you like second skin. It must be no better for him with all those feathers. “Lucky you, I’m off work for the rest of the day. How about we get you a bath, hm?”
 Just like before, the owl’s head turned around, but this time its big eyes looked at you in a way they appeared to praise you for such a fantastic idea. Ever the person to not ask for help, had you not asked, the owl would have stayed here to swelter in the heat. “You like that, hm?” you coo at him, unable to hold back the mirth you found in the way he behaved - it is still a mystery for how long he’ll stay in this form, so it’s best to enjoy every moment while you could.
“Sometimes I wonder if you love those baths more than you even love me” you say out loud, holding your arm outstretched so the big bird can hop onto your forearm, you see it’s feathery ears perking, and another angry 'hooooo' went flying out from him, his chest puffing out in defense, scolding you for even posing such a stupid statement while he can’t verbally refute it. Sure, the doctor never directly spoke of his affections for you, but it should be without a doubt he favors you in more ways than one, and he definitely loves you more than his baths.
Nonetheless, you respond to his noise with a small smile as you carry him to the bathroom, a low hum coming forth from your throat as the silence due to the absence of his voice feels odd. You never realized before how much his voice filled your every day, specifically at home, although the silence between the two of you as you relaxed or went about your own thing wasn’t rare either. 
As the water began to fill the tub, Veritas found his purchase on one edge, watching as the water swirled inside, cool and radiating, tempting him to simply hop in right away. Not wanting to risk him drowning, you stopped the water from filling the tub whole, leaving enough water for him to sit comfortably in. “You need help getting in?” you asked as you looked at the big owl who, without a word(well, sound), hopped into the water, big wings spreading across as much as the tub would allow them to go. Water engulfed him from all sides as he splashed and dove his head swiftly underneath the water before coming up to shake the water off his face. Chuckling, you crouched down and rested your arms on the edge, one arm extending lower so the fingers could touch the water and flick some water on your beloved lover-turned-bird.
“WHOO” he says, a light gurgle in his howl as water splashed into his beak, prompting him to give a fast shake of his head. Now soaked and finally cool, he let his wings simply hang in the water with only his head bobbing on the water’s surface. It was like a purr, his next sound, a soft little ‘huuuu’ as he let his big eyes fall shut as the coolness licked up his feathers.
“I suppose this will have to become the new routine, until we can get you to turn back, that is” you comment as you look around for that one thing you never saw Ratio’s bath go without. The little duck floatie wasn’t too far off, standing on one of the shelves beside the bathtub, watching over the precious bathtub like a little guard before you retrieved it to sit beside Veritas. He looked at the duckie, which looked much bigger than he remembered, then up at you, then back at the duckie’s googly eyes. A sigh followed as the bird went back to cleaning himself off, his tail flicking back and forth, spraying water at you. 
Holding up your hand over your face in a frail attempt to shield yourself didn’t deter Veritas from subtly (but not so subtly) trying to splash you with the cool water. From the flap of his wings and down to the swish of his big tail, the water came flying at you. You laugh after the initial splash hits you, in disbelief at his action but no less happy to see it happen. And in retaliation, you cup your hand in the water and splash him back. “Don’t spray your water at me, you reek, you big bird!” you tease, earning a rather alarmed look from the bird before he dove down under the surface, fluffing his feathers as he came onto the surface to ruffle them. He yelled at you, bopping over to where you were and nudged at your hand. 
“You want me to wash you?” you guessed, and you guessed right as the next cry was more urgent as he extended one clawed leg up to grab around your fingers and draw you in. “Oh, yes, we can’t have you stinking up the place, no sir. If we do, then who’s to say we won’t have someone knocking on our doors to ask about the smell” you keep up your playful demeanor, fully knowing you will earn another earful from Veritas once his beak is turned back to human mouth. You giggle nonetheless, reaching your hand to begin and rub into his feathers. “I should go get you some bird-safe soap too, I don’t want to risk it with the soap we have” You tell him, and he seems understanding enough, a soft coo meeting your ears as a reply.
So many thoughts swirled in your head as you thought of the way you carefully had to handle his wings and the ways to help him turn back to his normal self. Ideas fell short from reality, sending you back to square one. Bringing this situation up to some of the higher ups at the Intelligentsia Guild seemed as the most plausible idea, while simultaneously being something that would most likely earn dislike from your lover here. While you took time to think of possible ways to help him, you could only hope that prolonged transformation like this had no dire side effects.
Three days flew by quickly. Books piled up on your desk and around the house, and the Guild has provided quite some solutions to your little problem - they were eager to get the genius back in their midst, but you only wanted to get Veritas out of this form. 
The weird food concoctions you had to feed the poor man(bird) made you feel sick, but he took it like a champion, only sighing, inhaling and then eating the food. Sometimes he’d fly around the rooms to get his exercise in, or to distract himself from the horrid tasting food; sometimes he’d wait for you around the kitchen to give him a sweeter tasting thing to cleanse his pallet, and other times he’d simply nap. You found out he slept a lot during the day, reminding you of cats. Your own sleeping schedule had gone to ruins and that was no fault of his - you simply wanted to help him where you could and spend time with him, entertaining him or feeding him. 
Yet, you couldn’t deny that the poor sleep has quickly caught up to you as you stifle another yawn. Now it was your time to relax in the bath, and the water did wonders to your muscles and mind alike. Suds slid down your neck and dipped back into the water as you sat down the scrubby sponge down aside in favor of resting, submerged up to the chin in the bubbly water.
No wonder he liked baths so much, you think, mind blanking otherwise. A distant flutter barely made your mind perk, until the small clink of claws on the bath’s edge had you flinching. 
“Veritas!- Didn’t I say that you should at least chirp if you fly towards me” With a small sigh you relax again. For all his big wings, he still flew as silently as the breath of the breeze.  You’d never get used to it. “Do you need anything, I'm afraid I can't help you right away, I’m a bit busy now” you mutter, your lower lip touching the water before you tilt your head up at him. His owlish eyes looked at the water, then at you, before he performed a small hop, landing on your knees that barely touched the surface of the water. “Want to join me, huh..? You know, you really shouldn’t, this isn’t that bird shampoo I bought for you” Veritas puffs his feathers in defiance, noting how the water was now deep, but with you a breath away, he let himself fall in. The suds rising and sticking to his feathers.  He cooed and squawked, flapping his wings and splashing the water. 
You quickly dipped your hands underneath, finding his clawed feet and offering him purchase so he doesn’t struggle, even if his big wings did a great job at keeping him afloat. There could never be a lack of caution, 
“Ratioooo” you whined, frowning and preparing to give him an earful before the weight in your hands grew tenfold, a sudden flicker and a flash of light blinding you to what actually happened in that fragment of a moment. Gasping you felt some water splash into your nose and mouth, the chemical taste of soap making your frown and hiss while the water being splashed over the floor alarmed you to no end.
“Ow-!” you winced, pulling your hands back from underneath the weight. Coughing resonated in the room, and this time it didn’t come from you.
“Veritas!?” Without even seeing him you recognized him, the mere sound of his coughs being enough to make your heart spring with mirth and a sense of triumph. You pushed back, the bathtub suddenly becoming too crowded, and looked up at him. Water dripped down his body, and before he could reply, his knee caught onto the slippery side of the tub, gravity pulling him down into the water and over you. Water splashed more, but you could only open your arms to catch him.
One had slipped underneath you, holding your upper back while the other held onto the edge of the tub to keep himself from falling any lower. He cleared his throat, blinking the water from his eyes. As you cheered his name and held him so closely, he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, his cheeks struggling to fight the blush from rising up to them. Despite the initial shock and a wave of frustration that the soapy water caused by irritating his eyes, he couldn’t help but bask in the pure mirth you oozed. A childish joy that could stifle even his irritation - especially his. 
“VERITAS!” You cheered, all fatigue leaving your body as you held him again, your fingers not meeting the feathers but smooth and wet skin of his muscled back. His wet hair stuck to his forehead and a few stray hairs poked at his eyelids until he pushed his hair back. His mind reeled at the sudden loss of his much lighter form, and far more complicated one. Although he yearned to be human again for all the time he spent in his owl form, now he found it weird to feel fingers at the ends of his arms again. But what he had missed the most was this hold around his shoulders. 
“IT WORKED! You’re back, finally!” Your voice rang in his ears, reminding him of the ugly taste on his tongue and the shame he felt when you brought him into the HQ of the Guild, him perched on your shoulder and standing taller than the others - as always. 
“I told you- I-” he sputtered, but only groaned as words failed to form on his tongue. Has he gone mute from only cooing and howling?  “Pftt..” he chuckled, low and raspy as he pushed himself back, reeling you back with him to properly sit in the bath. He watched you lean back for only a few moments, your big smile forming the apples of your cheeks while your wet palm cupped his cheek. It made his breath hitch, and he’d be damned to admit, but he was sure his heart skipped a beat as well. Not wasting another moment, he pulled your back into his embrace, his face hidden away over your shoulder.
“You’re enjoying this far too much” Veritas spoke, even as a smile stretched across his features.
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Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
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viviennevermillion · 1 year ago
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love languages
✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: hsr debut post, hope this does well. i'm only at chapter 2 part 1 so pls bare we me. (gn!reader), aeons can walk among mortals for this
✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: bloom in the dark — emorie
✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: blade, dan heng, jing yuan, luocha, march 7th, nanook, yaoshi
✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: some angst & hint at character death in blade's because i'm still figuring out how to write anything but angst for a character whose main objective is that he wants to die, i had way too much fun making the aeons eldritch
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✧ giving: gifts
As much as Blade loved you, as much as he treasured the memories he shared with you and as much as he'd hate to cause you pain or grief; you were all too familiar with his predicament. You had been ever since you agreed to stay by his side, to love him for as long as you had together. That was the price you'd pay for loving a man who considered himself dead in spirits already. A shell of who he once was.
Part of him felt guilty for indulging you; how could he call himself yours when he'd take the exit from his cursed immortality if it presented itself before him tomorrow? How could he promise you his heart if he couldn't promise you a future?
He knew there was a chance he might outlive you by centuries. He knew there was a chance he'd say goodbye to you in a month. Still, you were willing to be with him, through all the uncertainty.
So he gifts you things to remember him by, should he part from you too soon for your liking. Some of them were expensive; after all he had more than enough life behind him to no longer be bound by material limits. Some of them were simple trinkets or flowers he preserved using glycerine. All of them held meaning but the overarching message was: "We were born in different times. If it were for the natural order of things, we never would have even met. I've been suffering since long before I met you. And yet, curiously, despite all; I treasure every moment I had with you. I'm glad to have loved you."
✧ receiving: physical touch
One thing Blade would have never expected when he met you; but was more than glad to realize, was that you could make him forget his anger and pain, even if it was for just a while; even if it always inevitably returned.
He loved falling asleep in your arms. It was the closest thing to the peace and salvation he craved that he could currently have. For just a few hours, he was content. He had forgotten what that felt like.
He loved the feeling of your fingers carding through his long, dark hair. And you loved the smile you so rarely saw on his face when you did this. Blade's breathing would calm and he'd nuzzle your neck as he was being held in your arms.
Blade also loves waking up in the middle of the night, feeling you shift in bed beside him and pressing a few lazy kisses to his lips before he fell back asleep.
He loves the way you tend to his scars, how you seem to wash the pain off his body with your caring touch; despite feeling guilty for how he has made you worry again. You'd end up disinfecting and bandaging his wounds and sometimes he had to chuckle at how you treated him as if he was fragile, despite having likely seen more hardships than you could ever imagine.
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✧ giving: acts of service
Dan Heng doesn't really know how to express his love for you at first so he defaults to helping you out however he can.
He helps you with little jobs around the Astral Express and loves to team up with you for any missions or chores that fall on both of your plates.
Especially with all the knowledge he gathered from the archives and basically living in there; he's more than ready to help you figure out any mysteries you encounter on your journey with the Astral Express.
If he needs to explain anything to you or answer a question you have about stuff like the Aeons or any factions you encountered, he'll often pull you onto his lap at the desk and show you important info about it in a book or online. "I hope I could answer your questions. Did this help you?", he then asks you, looking into your eyes. "Yup!", you shoot him a smile and give him a quick kiss to the lips which leaves him blushing and just staring at you for a while.
"Hey, Astral Express to Dan Heng, you still there?", you chuckle and wave your hand in front of his eyes. He just blinks like, twice and then picks you up bridal style: "Come on, let's figure out that task Himeko gave you." He's just trying to distract from the fact that you flustered him.
Sometimes he tries to cook for you. The emphasis is on tries. You'll walk into the train kitchen and he'll be there stirring something in the frying pan and glancing at a recipe. "What are you doing there, love?", you ask and kiss his cheek. "I'm making lunch for you", he states and you hug him. "Aww, that's so sweet of you!", you press a few appreciative kisses to his lips, "wait why does it smell burnt?" "What-"
✧ receiving: quality time
Dan Heng is what we call 'a good listener'. He's not the best conversationalist but he likes to hear you talk and he remembers stuff you told him that even you have forgotten about until he one day just brings it up out of nowhere.
He loves to spend the time between trailblazing expeditions just hanging out with you. You check your phone and receive a text from him like "Hey, want to come over to my room? 🫀"
"?" "March told me that I should add a heart to my messages to make you feel more loved. Did I not do it correctly?" "Dan Heng, sweetie, no..."
You enter his room and he has made you two cups of coffee, the only thing he's actually good at "cooking". The two of you have decided to watch a movie and lay down on Dan Heng's mattress. "I can feel the bones in my back snapping in half, how do you sleep on this?", you raise your eyebrow. "I don't think it's that bad", he mumbles, seeming lost in thought.
While watching the movie, he has his arms wrapped around you. His only opinion about it is "it was good".
Also enjoys playing board games with you, specifically card games. You're pretty equally matched so there's no telling who wins this round. When he wins, you ask him what he wants as a reward and he just gives you a soft smile and tells you a kiss will do.
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✧ giving: physical touch
Jing Yuan is a fairly affectionate man behind closed doors. He doesn't leave for work without giving you as many goodbye kisses as you want and doesn't let go of you throughout the whole night while he sleeps. You could get up and grab a glass of water from the kitchen, as soon as you return, Jing Yuan wraps his arms around you once more; even when he's in deep sleep.
He enjoys just sitting idly with you, both of you doing your own things and he's just holding your hand or has a hand resting on your thigh. He also loves when you lean your head on his shoulder and as soon as he feels you do that, he turns his head to place a kiss on your forehead.
Sometimes you'll be reading a book while sitting between his legs and he ends up pressing multiple kisses to your cheek or trailing them down your neck. He smiles against your skin everytime he does this. He's not always seeking to touch you but he has his clingy 10 minutes where he wants attention and sometimes that happens to interfere with whatever it is you're doing at the current moment.
Most of the time you can't resist indulging him and just kissing him for a while, burying your hands in his hair or cupping his cheeks gently.
✧ receiving: quality time
Jing Yuan loves those days on the Xianzhou Luofu that are so peaceful that he gets to spend the entire day with you. You decide to take a nap during noon, falling asleep in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat. You feel Jing Yuan press a few soft kisses to your forehead while you're dozing off.
When you awake, he's no longer next to you. You get up and find him in the kitchen, preparing a late lunch for the two of you. You wrap your arms around his waist from behind and glance at the frying pan to see him fry some eggs.
You hear a chirping sound and fish a small finch out of your boyfriend's hair. "Don't worry you, we're not grilling your brethren", you whisper softly and put the bird on the windowsill, "fly free, my little friend." The bird lifts off. You raise an eyebrow at Jing Yuan. "Was this the last one?"
He chuckles. "Should be." This at least gives him an excuse to take a bath with you and maybe you'll volunteer to wash his hair. He loves the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair and just relaxing and letting you pamper him. "You know, if that's what you want, you can just ask right?", you remind him, "you don't need to call your woodland friends for help." Jing Yuan just laughs and gently guides your chin closer to his face so he can kiss you softly.
He enjoys playing chess against you, though you tend to suggest to play a die-based game instead so you can win by having good luck, because Jing Yuan has several centuries of chess practice under his belt. "You know that still doesn't mean you'll win", he watches you unpack the Ludo game with an amused expression. "I have good luck, I got you after all", you say confidently. "Well I've heard an old saying from a distant planet that when you luck out in love it means you have bad luck when it comes to games", he argues and crosses his arms with a smile on his face. You roll your eyes and he responds by kissing your lips.
Sometimes he watches you play chess against Yanqing. "Does it hurt to lose to an 8 year old?", he teases you. "Silence, Jing Yuan, you taught him this stuff." Your lover lets out a laugh. "And yet he still has so much to learn before he can beat me."
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✧ giving: words of affirmation
When Luocha loves you, he doesn't hesitate to tell you. After all, his companion in the coffin consistently reminds him that life is short and he better have no regrets, should misfortune strike him tomorrow. Luocha adores you and in his mind, there's nothing stopping him from letting you know.
He's also a bit of a smooth-talker to you and you only. He never gets overbearing with his flirting, but you can expect a few cheesy compliments followed by a kiss to your hand. He'll pick you up for your date, takes your hand in his and leads it to his lips. "You're as beautiful today as the first time I saw you", he smiles and whispers against your skin.
Getting together with Luocha could take ages if you insist in knowing why he's being so suspicious first; but once you do he's ironically an open book for you. He has shared his greatest secret with you and you've given your hearts to one another, so why should he hold back now from telling you what's on his mind?
Sometimes his words are on the nose, such as cupping your cheeks and telling you that he loves you with all his heart or that he wants you to traverse the stars with him from now on. Sometimes the love he has for you is put into telling you how he remembers certain areas around the Xianzhou Luofu as "that place where you surprised me with a bouquet of flowers when we met up for tea" or "that shop where you almost made the coffin fall over". You learn with time that there are a lot of things he associates with you and your memories together.
✧ receiving: physical touch
Luocha loves your affections. He's the least grumpy man ever in the morning. You could wake him up at 3am for kisses and he'd be down for it. He loves when he wakes up and the first thing he feels is your lips on his cheeks or your fingers running through his long blond hair or your fingertips drawing circles on his bare shoulders.
He pulls you into his chest and you can hear his heartbeat while he holds you close. He lifts your chin up and his lips meet yours before he even opens his eyes. He kisses you softly, his tongue circling around yours as he tries to pull you even closer. "Good morning, my love", his voice sounds raspy before he presses a kiss to your cheek.
Luocha loves to take a walk through the city and hold your hand in his while doing so. He doesn't say it but he definitely melts if you stop your walk for a minute just to give him a hug or kiss him gently.
One time you get caught in the rain and Luocha finds shelter for the two of you under a secluded pavillion. You are cold so he wraps his jacket around you and holds you in his arms until the skies clear. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Are you still cold, my dear?", his voice sounds so soft and he gently squeezes your shoulder. You shake your head. He lets out a chuckle. "That's good, then", he replies before resting his head on top of yours and closing his eyes for a while.
He enjoys resting his head in your lap while you run your fingers through his hair. You might be busy with something else, not noticing how he smiles up at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen (you are). He eventually closes his eyes and rests his cheek against your stomach.
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✧ giving: words of affirmation
March 7th talks quite a lot, especially if you were to ask Dan Heng about it. So if she's in love with you; her feelings are bound to slip out with her words. It wasn't hard for you to become aware of her crush on you because she just accidentally blurted it out one day. She was so happy when you told her you felt the same; even if this conversation was the furthest thing from planned.
March loves to explore the civilizations you travel to on the Astral Express and buying lots of souvenirs and clothes from there. So sometimes she'll drag you from shop to shop and often finds things she thinks would look good on you. No matter if you're wearing a fancy suit / dress or a 5 credit neon green "I survived the Belabogeyman attack" shirt from a shady souvenir shop, she hypes you up like you're on the front cover of a popular magazin.
"Aw look, you're so cute", she squeals and hugs you from the side, trying and failing to lift you up. There's at least 5 people in the shop staring at you and the shopkeeper glares at March, silently reminding her to keep her voice at an acceptable volume for a public building. "Oops... sorry", she cringes slightly and then turns to you again with a bright smile, "you should totally get this!"
Everytime you enter her room after a trip you find a new photo you took together on her wall. "Look at your smile on this one", she holds one of them up, "it makes me happy whenever I look at it."
Dan Heng told her to stop talking about you all the time so now she talks with you about you.
Definitely tells you she loves you plenty of times.
✧ receiving: gifts
March loves gifts. She's the kind of person who can't wait to open her birthday presents so you guys have to hide them from her every year; preferably somewhere where she can't reach or won't find them.
So when she receives gifts from you for no special occasion, she's gushing so much.
She loves flowers and chocolates. She definitely has a sweet tooth but will still share the chocolates with you. She is very interested in the meaning of the flowers you gift to her so if you can tell her about that, she'll be all the more happy. She loves romantic gestures like this. She has mostly read about them in romance novels and she's more than thrilled to finally receive them herself.
March also adores jewelry, whether you bought something for her or crafted it yourself. She'll wear it everyday and she's very proud whenever someone asks about it.
She posts about the gifts she receives in her status online as well. She'll be like "y/n got me this! 💓💓💓"
She dm's the pictures to Dan Heng as well and he leaves her on read.
When you gift her something, she gives you a hug and a kiss on the cheek before opening it. Once she opened it, she smiles at you brightly and kisses you on the lips. "Thank you so much for this!", she takes your hand into hers and squeezes it.
Receiving gifts from you makes her so happy. But being loved by you makes you feel like every day is her birthday either way. And for you, every day was March 7th.
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✧ giving: quality time
Loving an Aeon wasn't the easiest endeavor. Especially not Nanook. But somehow you had touched the destructive god's heart and for the first time since they became what they were today, there was a life they wanted to treasure and protect.
They don't understand much about the human world as it was today, having mostly spent their time on a different plane of existence. It was only when they connected with you and took an interest in you; that they decided to walk among them for a while, to be able to spend time with you. At first their bitterness became apparent every day they spent with you, only scoffing at the people they saw going about their daily life and the things that they had built; which all would be wiped away by destruction if Nanook were to have their way.
But you took that as a challenge. You wanted to see if you could find something they liked about life, unaware that you had become that very phenomenon.
You made it your favorite pastime to show them all sorts of things from the material world and see their reaction to them. "What do you think of this painting?", you ask them, holding up a work of art you got from a market. "I'm not too fond of the sound it makes and the cosmic essence it depicts", they respond with a deadpan expression and you just look at them in confusion, "right, I forgot you can only perceive three dimensions."
Nanook, despite not letting it show, enjoys spending time with you; even though it could be challenging sometimes considering they were an Aeon and you were not. Sometimes they would ask you about things you couldn't see and other times they struggled to discern what things they saw you could pass through and which ones you considered "a wall".
✧ receiving: physical touch
Nanook loves your touch, much as they would like you to never notice that. They're not used to any physical sensations so they're very sensitive. They're unable to form coherent sentences when you so much as press a kiss to their lips. According to them it was very difficult to convey their thoughts in your way of speech when you were "trying to overwhelm them like this"
Giving Nanook affection also proved to be a challenge in more ways than one. The first time you tried to rest your head on their chest, your cheek touched the golden essence flowing out of them and you could perceive what you could only describe as the worst sensory overload anyone has ever experienced; a colorful mix of incoherent screaming and the faint sound of explosions; the feeling of all-encompassing despair and grief.
"What was THAT?", you stared at Nanook in shock, panting. "The entirety of traces left behind by destroyed worlds and ending lives from at least the last couple millenia", they answered very casually. You sighed and held your head, now suffering from a migraine. "At least it doesn't disintegrate me", you took a deep breath and started rummaging through your closet. "Only if I want it to", Nanook explained. "Charming", you whisper to yourself in a sarcastic way and toss them a shirt, "put this on."
Kisses are such a novelty to them. They're like "what was that?"
"Affection." "Do it again."
One time you pressed several kisses to their shoulder and Nanook just slow-blinked at you for like 5 minutes, before resting their head on your shoulder.
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✧ giving: gifts
Yaoshi loves to bestow "blessings" upon you. Though, you have to teach them at first what you would consider an acceptable present.
The first one is immortality if you want it. Yaoshi would love nothing more than for you to be by their side forever.
Their next attempts at gift-giving left you feeling a little lost. They manifest before you, excitedly grabbing your cheeks and your waist and your shoulders with their hands and pulling you into a kiss. "My dearest, I made you a creature", they exclaim and reveal a Frankenstein-esque abomination the size of a volleyball. You can't quite discern what it actually is but it looks like an abstract mixture of a hamster, frog and a dragon. "Uh...thank you?", you try to be as polite as possible, unsure what to do with the creature as it spits a smaller version of itself onto your bedroom floor and then disintegrates. "It reincarnates out of itself", Yaoshi explains. "I can see that", you nod with wide eyes, patting Yaoshi's head.
One day, Yaoshi guides your spaceship to a distant location. "This is a planet I renovated for you", they join you as you land and explain their thoughts behind all the different new kinds of flowers they created specifically for you. "You're my greatest inspiration", they kiss your cheek and wrap their arms around you.
You eventually sit them down and calmly explain to them that one planet is more than enough and that you definitely do not need another creature. You teach them about your customs of giving gifts and they listen attentively. Maybe a bouquet of flowers would do next time.
✧ receiving: quality time
Yaoshi wants you to stay by their side forever. They perceive the passage of time very differently from you, yet they treasure and vividly remember every second by your side. Your bond of love is a sacred one in their eyes and they want to feel as close as possible to you.
They especially love talking to you and learning about your experiences that are so vastly different from their own. Despite being so intertwined with life itself; Yaoshi learns so much about life just from being with you. They never would have imagined you could give them so many new perspectives on the universe just by sharing your thoughts and beliefs with them.
Yaoshi always listens to you attentively and you see a sense of childlike wonder in their eyes when you speak about the way you experience the world, the things you value and the memories you treasure.
"Isn't it marvelous; how we see the world through such different lenses and are entirely different entities, yet we love each other so deeply and unconditionally", their voice sounds soft as they pull you onto their lap, holding you with their six arms and planting kisses on the back of your neck repeatedly.
Unlike Nanook, Yaoshi is very clingy. Quality Time with you always involves touching you in some way, be it kissing you repeatedly or holding you tightly within their embrace. Sometimes they sing you to sleep with a gentle voice, running their fingertips over your shoulder.
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keferon · 1 month ago
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Let there be angst. Let Jazz's world crash and burn as he realizes the old Prowl will never be back. The frustration of caregiving for someone you love, watching them go from being fully capable to unable to even clean themselves, their body failing them even as they are forced to exist.
Can Prowl still even feel his hands? Or can he just see them, unknowing of how much pressure he is exerting with them. Have you ever woken up with your hands numb? Unable to feel them even as you flex them, clenching and clenching hoping for that rush of sensation, of warm and cold, of rough and soft. What if you knew that sensation will never come back, that you will never feel your partner gently intertwine heir hands with yours ever again.
Make it hurt as Prowl recovers. Slowly, excruciatingly. Does Prowl's body even recognize empurata as the torture it is? Or will it heal like a bone that was broken. Sometimes fractured bones will heal wrong. It's called malunion and in order to fix it the bone must be broken once again. Will Prowl need to broken again to heal?
Of course he won't ever be like the old Prowl. Mental scars run deep, deeper than his broken frame, deeper than a surgeon's scalpel will ever cut. Some scars will never disappear, never fade, always around to remind him, never letting him forget.
When he gets new hands, if he ever does, will they ache? Will they burn and freeze, shake and chip? They won't be the same afterwards, even if his old, older, hands survive and were given back to him. The scars will remind him. The suffering lack of mobility, of losing the difference between fingers and hands, palms and knuckles. There could be no blemish upon them and yet his joints are stiff, almost immobile, and no amount of doctor's visits could explain why.
Prowl will survive. No doubt about that. But isn't life more than just surviving. What about living? What about thriving?
Prowl will heal, he always does and always will. But there is something to say when a beloved picture frame is more glue and duct tape then wood. It's kept around because no one could bear parting with it.
So yes, Prowl will die. Maybe not in frame, maybe not in mind, but he will die. And there will be someone new. Someone who shares the same body, the same name, the same spark as Prowl. Maybe that being loves Jazz as Prowl oncr did. Or maybe the trauma is too much and that fragile, loving bond of romance was swept away by the wind, embers too cold to ever reignite.
Let it be a bittersweet ending, let there be pain and hurt that will be felt long after the last words are said, the last picture drawn. Let it be known that Prowl didn't walk through hell without scars.
May the sweetness of fluff burn as it is consumed, bleeding citrus on open wounds. Prowl will never be Prowl again but there is a hope, in the long distant future, that he can smile again and can feel his hands once again.
(Short version: angst and fluff please. Hurt and comfort with a bittersweet and ambigous ending. Oh, I also typed this all on my phone w/o autocorrect so I apologize if it turns out weird and words are mispelled.)
H-hey? Hey Anon? I don’t think I will ever be to recover from this.
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heliosundercover · 6 months ago
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Batboys and
how they talk about you
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Bonus fic as a thank you for allowing my jason fic to do well 💋
Dick Grayson-
, who talks about you like a goddess walking the earth, loves you more than words. The type to talk about you so much that people doubt your real
 
“My girlfriend is so sweet, guys. Today we went to that one library I like. Guys, have I told you even her favorite book is adorable?”
It doesn’t help that he tends to get caught up in certain details, completely ignoring other ones. No one knew your name until a week into dating.
 
Jason: “If you asked me before, I would’ve never believed him; weve all gone a little insane, but now that Ive seen proof, I'm happy for him. He gets to be well-dick, and she gets to smile and nod, but I swear she enjoys it. They’re weird together.”
 
Tim: “We love Dick. A lot, but we were looking at a wonderful facility that has an in-patient gym in the beginning. But the way he looks at her, I wouldn’t be surprised if she actually did miracles.” 
 
Damian: “At least I believed him at the start. He was smitten and absolutely whipped. I thought it was just like Dick. I don’t know why I, of all people, was the only one that caught it.
 
Bruce: Yeah, I knew she was real. Why would I ruin everyone’s fun? I mean, Dick is a bit. Aloof sometimes… I'm not exactly surprised; he’s not exactly amazing socially sometimes, but with her, he’s extra awkward, and I watched him flirt with men and women. But look, as long as he’s happy, we’re happy for him.”
 
Dick is a completely drunken idiot, with so much training thrown out the window. 
(Can you tell I'm not a fan of a playboy dick😞 im sorry i love a good love stuck man)
 
Jason Todd-
, who is extremely protective of his peace, sometimes acts as if you’re fragile. He was the type to invite you to a family game night where he called a family meeting an hour beforehand, forcing everyone to be on their best behavior. Needless to say, it was awkward, but one uno round later, he realized you fit in just fine. 
 
“I knew my girl would win. She's a gangster.”
boast when you absolutely dominate everyone playing in the game. You never quite beat the cheating allegations.
 
Dick: "I don’t know how he did it, but he found someone who brings out a side of him I haven’t seen in years. No one is that good at uno; naturally, at least, I think she’s a meta. I'm not saying that non-metas aren’t good at uno.”
 
Tim: "You know how in movies the girl animals just have lashes, and how the boy is always darker and the girl will be like a lighter color? It's like she was made for him. I'm glad he found his anamorphic girl, Wolf. But, can I be honest? I think Alfred was telling her our cards.”
 
Damian: "I'm glad Jaybird is happy. He’s definitely earned it. Even if she cheats at UNO, they’re perfect for each other. Hell, the cheating is what makes them perfect for each other.”
 
Bruce: "I'm glad to see Jason happy. The sparkling in his eyes, the boyish smile, is the same joy I saw after he hit me with a car iron and ran off, giggling. I like her.”
 
 
Bruce Wayne-
is proud to show you off publicly. He’s not one to spoil someone, but sometimes he can’t help but pick up trinkets for you. Sometimes you’d wake up to keychains, jewelry, or even clothes somewhere in your shared room. 
 
He tried so hard to be there for you and protect you from his line of work. Some nights, he wouldn’t come to bed at all to avoid waking you. Some nights, if you worried too much, he would send Dick out in the Batman costume so he could be by your side. 
 
"Shh, baby, its ok... Tonight, I'm staying with you, okay? I love you; do you know that? And I know sometimes the risk scares you, but I’ll always be here for you.”
 
Dick: "It's nice knowing Bruce isn’t constantly brooding about it. Well, I knew that fact already, but this is different. I only see a light in his eyes when he’s doing stuff he absolutely loves. Like when he talks to his parents tombs and we pretend we don’t see him.”
 
Jason: "i think that man would come back from the dead more dramatically than I did for this woman. And I waged like 3 wars.”
 
Tim: “Sometimes I see them sitting in the library together in silence. All they do is enjoy each other’s presence. Its adorable”
 
Damian: “Dads earned it. And when I say he’s earned it, I mean he’s earned it!”
 
Bruce isn’t the easiest to be with, but he always makes up for it.
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gwens-love · 25 days ago
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Unraveled yet unbroken
Summary: You enter Agatha Harkness’s life, finding her steeped in grief and isolation. Despite her reluctance, you offer friendship, and your bond deepens into something more. But when an unexpected figure from Agatha’s past returns, the fragile connection you’ve built faces a formidable test.
Warnings: emotional conflict, loss and grief, angst with happy ending.
Word count: 2.2k
~Agathario x fem!reader~
Please don’t copy/steal or translate this work thanks
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~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~
The air was thick with unspoken grief when you first stepped into Agatha Harkness’s life. After Nicholas’s death, she was surrounded by ancient tomes, seemingly a ghost herself.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Agatha murmured one evening, her voice heavy with sorrow as she sat among flickering candles. “I don’t need pity.”
You offered a gentle smile, trying to ease her defenses. “I’m not here to pity you. I’m here to help. You’re struggling, Agatha. It’s okay to accept that.”
“I don’t need help,” she snapped, but the flicker in her eyes suggested otherwise. “I’ve handled my life alone for centuries. I can manage this too.”
“Even the strongest witches need support sometimes,” you replied softly, taking a seat across from her. “You don’t have to carry this weight alone.”
Agatha’s eyes narrowed as she considered your words. The silence stretched, heavy and taut, before she finally let out a long sigh. “Perhaps you’re right. I just… don’t want to be a burden.”
“Trust me,” you encouraged, “you’re not a burden. Just let me be here for you.”
Over the course of several weeks, you found your bond deepening as you became a steady presence in Agatha’s life. You’d bring her tea, and quietly sit by her side. One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with gold and lavender, Agatha let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“I used to think I had everything figured out,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And then Nicholas… he was everything to me.”
You leaned forward, heart aching for her. “I know. Losing someone you love is the hardest thing. But you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here.”
Agatha looked at you, vulnerability mingling with curiosity. “What do you want from me?”
“Only to be your friend,” you replied, meeting her gaze. “You’re not alone, Agatha. Let me in.”
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
As your connection grew, so did the warmth between you. Just as you started to navigate these feelings, Rio Vidal burst into your lives like a summer storm radiant and powerful.
“Agatha,” she greeted, her voice warm, “I didn’t expect to see you again. Not after well everything.”
Agatha’s eyes widened, surprise dancing across her features. “Rio… It’s been a long time. I was hoping to never see you again.”
You felt a thrill of apprehension mixed with excitement. “Who’s this?” Rio asked, her gaze shifting to you, curiosity piqued.
“Just a friend,” Agatha replied, but there was a flicker of warmth in her tone.
“Friend, huh?” Rio smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Seems like more than that. You’ve got a certain glow, Agatha. It’s adorable.”
You exchanged a glance with Agatha, feeling the tension rise. “I’m just here to support Agatha through… everything.”
“Support, or something more?” Rio probed, stepping closer with a teasing grin.
“Rio, please,” Agatha interjected, a reluctant smile breaking through her facade. “This isn’t the time for games.”
“Isn’t it?” Rio countered, her tone light. “Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say there’s something brewing here that’s more than just friendship.”
“Stop it,” Agatha huffed, but her smile betrayed her amusement.
“Agatha, you’re practically glowing,” you chimed in, unable to suppress your laughter. “Rio might be onto something.”
“Alright, fine,” Agatha sighed, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her smile. “I guess we’re all a little enchanted here.”
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
The seasons changed and your lives intertwined, love became a steadfast pillar. The trio navigated your complex feelings, each step forward bringing laughter, support, and moments of vulnerability. One evening, as you all practiced spells under the flickering light of the candles, Rio shot you both a teasing glance.
“You know,” she said, leaning back with a smirk, “I’m starting to think Agatha’s more in love with you than with me.”
“Impossible,” you shot back, unable to contain your grin. “You’re the one with the captivating charm.”
“True, but maybe I could share the spotlight,” Rio replied with a wink. “After all, Agatha, your heart seems to beat a little faster when you’re around both of us.”
“Stop it, both of you,” Agatha said, her cheeks flushing, but there was a lightness in her eyes. “You’re making it hard to concentrate.”
“Let’s embrace it,” you suggested, feeling emboldened. “We’re all here for each other. We can face whatever comes next together.”
As time went on, love became a constant in your lives, your days filled with shared moments and soft laughter. You became each other’s anchors, a triad bound by a powerful magic that thrived in the warmth of your hearts, but something felt off.
One starlit night, the three of you gathered outside, the moon casting a soft glow around you. “What do you think the future holds for us?” you asked, glancing between them. Not noticing Agatha’s eyes looking uncertain.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
The winter air was cold as the three of you gathered in Agatha’s dimly lit study, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows on the walls. An argument had simmered beneath the surface for weeks, and now it was boiling over.
“Why can’t you just trust me?” Rio exclaimed, her voice raised, frustration spilling into every word. “You always shut me out, Agatha! It’s like you don’t even want to be part of this.”
Agatha crossed her arms, her brow furrowing. “I’m not shutting you out! I’m trying to figure things out for myself. I need space to process everything!”
“Space?” Rio scoffed. “You’ve been pushing me away for too long! You act like you can handle everything alone, but that’s not fair to either of us.”
You shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a middle ground. “Can we please just take a step back? We’re all feeling this pressure. It’s okay to talk about it without accusing each other.”
Agatha’s eyes darted to you, and you could see the hurt mingling with anger. “You think I’m doing this on purpose? You don’t understand the weight of what I’m carrying. It’s suffocating!”
“Then let me help you!” Rio stepped closer, her voice softening. “We’re in this together. I love you, Agatha, but I can’t keep doing this if you won’t let me in.”
Agatha’s gaze faltered for a moment, and you felt a swell of hope. “I just… I don’t know how to let anyone in right now,” she confessed, her voice breaking.
“Maybe that’s the problem,” you interjected gently. “We’re not just friends; we’re family. We can’t have a healthy relationship if we’re all holding back.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Agatha shot back, her frustration igniting again. “You don’t know what it’s like to carry my past, the mistakes I’ve made.”
“Neither do you!” Rio fired back, tears welling in her eyes. “You’re acting like you’re alone in this, but we’re here, Agatha! Don’t you see? You’re pushing us away!”
Silence fell, heavy and suffocating. You watched as Agatha’s expression hardened, walls rising around her.
“Maybe I need to be alone,” Agatha finally said, her voice steady but cold. “Maybe this whole thing was a mistake.”
“Don’t say that,” you pleaded, feeling your heart sink. “We can work through this. We love each other!”
“Love isn’t enough if you can’t communicate,” she shot back, her tone final. “I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay when it’s not.”
You felt a deep ache as the reality sank in. “So that’s it? We just throw everything away?”
“I can’t do this anymore,” Agatha said, her voice unwavering. “I need to find myself again, without the both of you.”
“Agatha, please…” Rio’s voice trembled, but Agatha turned away, her decision made.
With heavy hearts, you both watched as she walked to the door, opening it and stepping into the night. The cool air rushed in, carrying with it the weight of finality.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “I didn’t want it to end like this.”
“Neither did I,” Rio replied, her voice barely a whisper. “But we can’t force her to stay if she doesn’t want to.”
As the door closed, a profound silence enveloped the room. The love that had once filled this space felt like a distant memory, leaving behind only the echoes of what could have been.
“I guess we should go our separate ways,” you said softly, the weight of the words hanging heavily in the air.
Rio nodded, her expression filled with sorrow. “Maybe some time apart will help us all… to heal.”
And with that, the three of you, once intertwined in love and friendship, began to drift apart, each carrying the pain of a love that had unraveled before its time.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
A century later and Agatha found herself on the road with a coven of amateurs well in her opinion anyway and Teen. Summoning a green witch because her first pick wasn’t great.
What she didn’t expect was for her two exes to climb out of the ground, but alas that’s how it shall be it appears.
The first thing that came to her mind was that it was all her fault. She was the one that didn’t trust Rio, she was the one that drove the two people she loved away, and now she needed to be the one standing in the shadow while you and Rio catch up.
Ashamed was one thing she was feeling but that barely scratched the surface of everything that was going on in her mind, and more importantly in her heart.
She wondered if you two still occasionally talked or if she pulled the two of you apart when she left. She hoped that it didn’t happen, that she wasn’t the cause of a potential split between her two loves.
Conflicted and close to crying she decided to just go for a stroll. What she hadn’t anticipated was that the two of you would actually follow her, but it looked like she was going to have this conversation sooner rather than later.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
The three of you sat together, shadows dancing around as if witnessing your reunion. Agatha shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting between you and Rio, her expression softening with each glance.
“Centuries have passed,” Agatha began, her voice barely a whisper, “and I’ve had all this time to think. About us, about how I hurt you both.”
Rio raised a brow, her usual smirk absent, watching Agatha intently. You, too, remained silent, sensing that this moment was long overdue.
“I didn’t trust you, Rio. Not when you needed me to,” Agatha admitted, her gaze heavy with regret. “And that hurt you both. I thought I could protect myself by keeping distance, but I was wrong. So terribly wrong.”
Rio’s eyes softened, but she remained quiet, letting Agatha continue.
Agatha’s hand reached out, tentative, first finding yours and then Rio’s. “I’ve missed you both more than I could ever say. I want to be better for you… if you’ll have me.
You squeezed her hand, feeling her sincerity, and shared a glance with Rio, whose expression softened as her fingers intertwined with Agatha’s.
Rio’s voice was gentle, almost teasing. “You’ll have to make it up to us, Agatha. But I think we can manage that.”
Agatha laughed softly, relief clear on her face. Her arms found their way around you both, pulling you close under the starlit sky. The silence was filled with a warmth that had been missing for centuries, the three of you wrapped in each other’s presence, ready to rebuild what time and mistakes had once broken apart.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~
Fin <3
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won4kiss · 2 months ago
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── ❝ ꒰ 𝐹𝐸𝐸𝐿𝑆 𝐿𝐼𝐾𝐸 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑅𝑇 𝑂𝐹 𝐴 𝑀𝑂𝑉𝐼𝐸 𝐼’𝑉𝐸 𝑆𝐸𝐸𝑁 𝐵𝐸𝐹𝑂𝑅𝐸 .ᐟㅤ ៸៸﹙ 박성훈 ﹚ ᶻ𐰁
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GENRE ៸៸ forbidden relationship ៸ oneshot ﹔ SYPNOSIS┆in which two lovers go on a late-night drive .ᐟㅤ insp by ceilings by lizzy mcalpine ៸៸ ꒰ WORD COUNT﹕1390 ꒱── 𝓦ARNING(S) not proofread ៸ kissing ៸ pet names ៸ . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ⊱ LIBRARY . . . ﹕LUNA 💭 —active era incoming!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖
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THE CAR MOVED QUIETLY ALONG THE DARKENED ROAD,
the headlights reflecting long, dim beams across the empty street—the world outside the window is silent, asleep in the quiet of the late night, and the only sounds in the car are the soft buzzing of the engine and the faint, slow song playing from the radio.
the air is heavy with the weight of something unspoken, something that lingers between the two of you, and you don’t know if it’s the night, or the realization that these moments are always slipping through your fingers too quickly.
sunghoon’s hand rests on the gearshift, his knuckles brushing against yours, and you feel the familiar warmth spread through you—the same warmth you’ve felt every time you’ve been this close to him.
the streetlights flicker as you pass, and in those small glimpses of light, you see his profile—the sharp line of his jaw, the soft, messy strands of his hair falling into his eyes, the way his lips press together in concentration as he drives.
he looks beautiful, in the quiet, under the gentle glow of the passing lights.
it’s like something out of a dream—something too perfect, too fragile to be real. ─── 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 ����𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘜𝘛 .ᐟㅤ
his eyes glance over at you, and for a moment, they soften, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if just seeing you there beside him makes all of this worth it.
it’s a smile that holds the weight of all the secrets you share, of all the stolen moments between you.
you look down at your intertwined hands, your fingers grazing the edges of his, and you can feel that familiar pang of longing.
the kind of longing that comes from knowing that you can’t stay in this car forever, that eventually, this drive will end, and you’ll have to go back to reality—the place where being with him isn’t as simple as just being in love.
you’ll go back to the house that’s waiting for you, the one with your parents, who will never approve of someone like sunghoon.
it’s a world that’s filled with expectations and rules and boundaries that you’re never allowed to cross.
but in this car, it’s different.
it’s just you and him, no rules, no eyes watching, no consequences—just two people who found something in each other that made it impossible to stay away.
“are you okay?” sunghoon’s voice is soft, cutting through the quiet.
his eyes flicker to you again, and you can see the concern in them, the gentle way he’s always cared about you, even in the smallest of ways.
you nod, swallowing the lump that’s forming in your throat. “yeah, i’m okay,” you whisper, even though you know it’s not entirely true.
you’re okay now, here, but you know it won’t last.
it never does. but that’s why you hold onto these moments, because they’re all you have, and they’re everything to you.
he gives you a small smile, the kind that reaches his eyes, making them crinkle just a bit at the corners, and it makes your heart ache.
you reach out, your fingers brushing against his cheek, and he leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief second.
it’s such a small thing, but it feels like everything—like in that tiny movement, you can feel all the love you have for each other.
“sometimes i wish i could just keep driving,” he admits, his voice so low it almost gets lost in the roar of the engine.
“just keep going, until we’re so far away that none of it matters anymore.”
his words hang in the air between you, and you feel the tears prick at the corners of your eyes, that familiar sense of longing growing inside you.
you want that too. more than anything. you want to be with him without having to look over your shoulder, without feeling like every kiss, every touch, every whispered word is something that could be taken away at any moment.
you want him without all the obstacles that come with it, without the expectations that keep pulling you apart.
“i know,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “i wish that too.”
his fingers tighten around yours, and he looks at you, his eyes filled with something raw, something that you’ve seen so many times but never get used to.
it’s love, pure and simple, and it’s so strong that it scares you—because it’s the kind of love that makes everything else fade away, the kind that makes you want to risk it all, even when you know how much it could hurt.
he pulls the car to a stop, the gravel crunching beneath the tires as he parks on the side of the road.
you look up, seeing your house in the distance—the lights still on, even at this hour, because they’re waiting for you.
you can already feel the weight of the world creeping back in, the walls going up, the distance that’s going to grow between you as soon as you step out of this car.
sunghoon turns to you, his eyes searching yours, and for a moment, neither of you say anything.
there’s no need for words, not when everything you’re feeling is written so clearly across your faces.
you lean in, your forehead resting against his, your eyes closing as you take in the moment, the warmth of his skin, the scent of him—everything about him that you want to remember when he’s not with you.
“i love you,” he whispers, his voice cracking just a little, and you feel the tears slip down your cheeks, your heart aching at how much you wish you could hold onto this forever.
“i love you too,” you whisper back, your voice breaking.
he kisses you then, his lips soft and warm against yours, and it’s filled with everything you can’t say, everything that’s too big for words.
it’s a promise, a vow that even if you can’t be together in the way you want, even if the world is determined to pull you apart, this love is real, and it’s yours, and no one can take that away.
you pull away, and he looks at you, his eyes glassy, his expression filled with a sadness that mirrors your own.
you reach for the door handle, your fingers trembling as you open it, the cold night air rushing in, pulling you back to reality.
you step out of the car, your feet touching the pavement, and you turn back to him, giving him one last smile.
“goodnight, sunghoon,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, and it feels like goodbye, even though you know it’s not.
“goodnight, y/n,” he says, his voice breaking just a little, and you can see the way his hands grip the steering wheel, like he’s trying to hold onto something that’s slipping away.
you turn away, your heart heavy as you walk up the driveway, the distance between you growing with every step.
you can feel his eyes on you, watching until you reach the door, and you pause, looking back just once.
he’s still there, his silhouette framed by the dim glow of the car’s headlights, and it makes your chest tighten, knowing that this is where it ends—at least for tonight.
you give him one last wave, and he raises his hand, a soft smile on his lips, and then you turn, opening the door and stepping inside.
the warmth of the house surrounds you, yet you still feel so cold—the weight of the expectations fall back onto your shoulders, and you close the door, shutting out the night, shutting out sunghoon.
you lean against the door, your eyes closing, the tears slipping down your cheeks, and you wish, more than anything, that you could have stayed.
that you could have kept driving, kept holding his hand, kept feeling that sense of freedom that only comes with him.
but for now, you’ll hold onto the memory of tonight—the warmth of his hand, the softness of his lips, the love that you felt, even if just for a moment.
and maybe, someday, you’ll find a way to make it more than just a fleeting moment.
maybe, someday, you’ll find a way to keep driving, together.
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© won4kiss 2024
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៸៸ ❝ PLEASE REBLoG AND LiKE .ᐟㅤ 💌
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severinageto · 3 months ago
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"Thus Spoke Kusakabe (or on the Arrogance of the Six Eyes)" ———— Drabble
Sometimes, Suguru wondered if there was a mirror big enough to reflect Satoru's ego.
“Can you see it, Suguru?” he murmured, adjusting his sunglasses with that theatrical gesture he had mastered so well. He looked toward the horizon, as if the entire world belonged to him. And, honestly, in those days, it did.
“Yeah, impressive,” Suguru replied simply, though he wasn’t entirely sure what Satoru was referring to. Saying anything else would’ve been a waste of time. Satoru wouldn’t listen unless it fed his insatiable need for admiration. Suguru had realized this the first day they met, just a few months ago. Half of their conversations were his monologues disguised as dialogues.
Gojo Satoru. The name echoed in every corner of the sorcerer world. Always the center of attention, the sun that illuminated everything around him. Even when he claimed not to want to be the center, there he was: dazzling everyone with his mere presence.
What irritated Suguru most, what made him smile despite himself, was that Satoru actually had reasons to be that way. He was brilliant, invincible, unstoppable. The strongest man of all. And he knew it. Oh, how he knew it.
“Do you know what’s the worst part of being me?” Satoru said with a half-smile, leaning on the rooftop railing. His blue eyes gleamed through his glasses, as if they held secrets no one else would ever understand.
“Enlighten me,” Suguru answered, in the same monotonous tone as always. Not because he wasn’t interested, but because in that short time together, he’d learned it was better to let Satoru talk.
“That there’s no competition.” His voice had a touch of false sadness; Suguru knew he was faking it. It wasn’t a real complaint, but a confirmation of his superiority, a kind of self-affirmation.
Suguru looked at him and thought about how easy it would be to hate him. Satoru wasn’t just arrogant; he was arrogance incarnate. But there was something about that arrogance that was captivating, even seductive. Something that made him that unattainable, almost divine figure.
However, from the first time Suguru saw him, he knew he would accept him just as he was.
Satoru was aware of that. He used his power, his charisma, and his appearance as just another weapon, maybe even more dangerous than his damn limitless domain. On the battlefield, invincible. In life, just as unreachable.
Ah, but not to him. It had only been ninety days as his partner, but Suguru already knew he was one of the few—if not the only one—who could get close to him.
“You must feel very lonely, don’t you?” Suguru commented, not really expecting an honest answer. He wasn’t naive enough to think Satoru would reveal what he really thought, what he really felt: that he was standing next to the only person who could truly challenge him.
Satoru glanced at him, surprised for a second. Then he smiled, but this time there was something different in his expression. Something more genuine.
“Only sometimes,” he replied, before his smile reverted to the one everyone knew—the smile of the "almighty Satoru Gojo."
“When you’re not with me,” he added with feigned nonchalance, adjusting his glasses again, as if he wasn’t showing his vulnerability in front of the only person who truly knew him.
“Thanks…I guess,” Suguru said, moving a bit closer without really knowing why.
Satoru blushed, and his body tensed. Suguru’s shoulder touched his. That was more than Satoru’s fragile heterosexuality could handle. He stepped back, grimacing.
“Or something like that. Don’t let it get to your head, okay?” Satoru teased sarcastically.
And there he was again, the charming narcissist, the invincible sorcerer, his future best friend and lover, and maybe the loneliest person Suguru had ever met.
Satoru was like that. He always would be. And though Suguru understood and accepted him, he couldn’t help but wonder what was hiding behind that mask of perfection.
Well, he would find out. There was a reason fate had brought him into Satoru’s life. There was a reason why, despite the short time they’d known each other, he felt like he understood Satoru better than anyone else. There was a reason why he felt as though Satoru was a part of him that he hadn’t known existed.
Could it be that he was falling in love with that insufferable brat?
He glanced at Satoru once more. The wind tousled his white hair, and for a second, he seemed more human. But only for a second.
Then, he was back to being Satoru. The one and only Satoru.
His Satoru.
—————- image by https://x.com/yuzuki0054?s=21
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multific · 2 years ago
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Soft and Smooth
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Yautja x Reader
You were only a child when you were taken, you don't even remember your parents much.
You remember the fear that you felt. You remember the chains and the cage you were put in. But nothing much.
You grew up amongst Yautja.
You were a slave to a family of them.
A father, a mother and four younglings.
You served them.
And you served them right.
It was all you knew after all.
One day, your tribe was attacked, you were only a teenager when it happened.
The family you served suffered greatly, the mother and a youngling lost their lives. It was tragic.
Since you grew up with them, you learned their language but somehow you still couldn't always understand them. You were really good at reading but when they talked, you couldn't understand many things.
But you did understand that when you reached a young adult age, your master wanted to sell you to be prey for the next hunt.
You simply overheard their conversation.
His sons only arrived back from a hunt themselves, they all got their first kill and your master was very proud of them.
One, in particular, was extremely against the idea of giving you up. He was the oldest of the sons, T'un'tou.
You often heard how great of a warrior he was.
He lived on his own by now, but often visited his father.
Since he was the oldest, he moved out a while ago now, even got his first kill a while back. 
Sometimes Yautja was an extremely confusing species. Other times, all of their actions made the most sense.
Like now, you were confused.
T'un'tou took you to his ship and told you that you are his now.
But he didn't say, slave or human.
Just his.
And now you were off to a new home to serve a new master.
But T'un'tou was very different from his father.
Your years living with him were short. He was already out of the home when you were just beginning to grow into the woman that you were today.
You didn't know much about him, and you couldn't recall much either.
But he was rather kind to you.
He took you to his home and even gave you a room.
The Tribe he lived in was the Hunter Tribe. A rather proud tribe who went on hunts more than the others. All members were extremely proud and strong.
The bones in T'un'tou's home were proof of his great accomplishments. 
You lived with him for months, one time, he arrived back with a set of bones. He handed them to you and you nodded. You assumed he gave it to you so you can put it on display for him.
But it wasn't the reason. 
It was meant to be a gift. A courting gift.
You were just too used to being a slave, you never thought it would be more.
Of course, you knew about their techniques and things. Yet, you failed to realize that it was happening to you.
T'un'tou being the rough warrior that he was loved soft things. 
Every female he tried to be with, he always looked for softness, but he never found it.
Then, he remembered his father had a human.
A female human at that.
Humans were supposedly soft and fragile creatures.
So, he decided to visit his father more and more often.
And the rumours were true. One time, he touched your arm as you placed food in front of him, it was exactly what he craved.
Soft and supple skin against his rough one.
T'un'tou learned from his father that since all his sons left, he had no use for you and was thinking about selling you or giving you away for a hunt.
T'un'tou took this opportunity and asked his father to give you to him.
He gave you enough space to get comfortable and once he decided the time has come for him to court you.
He checked in with the healers and you were strong, you could bare a child of his which was great news, something in the future he could use.
T'un'tou also learned that by giving you his blood you would be able to have a longer life.
After that, he brought you to the healers monthly.
You didn't question it, you dared not to.
But you did notice how handsy he was.
He liked to touch your arms and one time he nearly gave you a heart attack when he suddenly touched your leg.
"Soft." he said and it was a word you understood. But he confused you.
Later that evening, he asked you to join his bed, for nothing more than sleep.
You felt like a soft toy. A bear plushie that he used so he could sleep. 
But somehow, you didn't mind.
He arrived back with more and more bones. Giving them all to you and each time you wondered just where you should put them. Now having a designated place where each bone from him would go.
Then, one evening, after spending almost a year with T'un'tou you finally figured it out.
He was courting you.
It made sense why he talked about an offspring with the healer each month you were there. And also why you received blood each time. 
You didn't really have a choice, did you?
You either die or accept that T'un'tou wanted you as his mate.
You wouldn't say no, you didn't wish to die just yet.
And T'un'tou was kind.
It wasn't much of a relationship starter but it was something. Given that Yautja could be extremely dangerous, kindness wasn't really something they were too familiar with.
You smiled as T'un'tou arrived back for the night. You were already in his bed, ready to sleep when he entered.
Seeing you comfortable under the furs, he felt at ease.
He soon found his place behind you, pulling you to his chest, ready to sleep.
How could such a huge and dangerous killing machine be so kind?
Somehow, you both knew in that moment, you both accepted each other. Now, all you needed is a mating ceremony so you could make it official and you would be finally his. 
---
T'un'tou was a great mate.
Very eager but gentle.
He finally had the softness he craved his entire life.
And with his offspring in your belly, he felt full.
However, your pregnancy brought the best and the worst out of you.
But no wonder, you had a little half-human half-yautja baby under your heart!
T'un'tou was taking really good care of you making sure you have everything you need.
You have been craving some strange things lately.
He noticed you preferred meat almost raw meat at that. He was nervous it might poison you.
He never once left your side, not even when the opportunity came for him to go on a hunt. 
He decided to stay with you and watch you.
He became your shadow basically.
Of course, you knew he wanted you and the baby to be safe. He wanted to protect and provide.
But then, he had an opportunity extremely rare and he knew he needed to go.
"I'll be fine." you told him as he left with the ship.
And you were fine.
Thinking about names, trying to figure out a way to make your bed more comfortable.
The tribe accepted you when you were wed to him.
Each day, your child grew bigger and bigger.
When your mate came back, he was delighted to see you so round. He felt like a truly victorious Yautja.
He presented you his kill, but of course, you couldn't care for the bones and skulls. You cared for him.
You did notice a new scar on his shoulder, pouting as you run your fingers over it multiple times. 
You knew to them, it was a sign of battle and victory, but all you could think about was the pain he must have felt.
It made you sad but you were proud of his achievements. 
Since he arrived back, he didn't leave your side for even a second constantly having his arms around you or his hand on your stomach.
"So soft," he said. "Soft and gentle." he said as his hands ran up your back, you felt his claws ever so slightly graze along your skin.
He never hurt you, you knew that.
"I often feel the baby move." you told him and you knew he didn't understand you but it was okay. You grabbed his hand and pulled it to your stomach, waiting for another kick which soon came.
"Strong." you told him in his language and you knew Yautja couldn't smile, but his eyes said it all.
Pure happiness.
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gatheringbones · 6 months ago
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[“Too many of us have chosen to live in sexually ambiguous, sexually boring, sexually dead lesbian relationships because it wasn't safe to talk about desire---desire for cock, desire for pussy, desire for leather, desire for diversity. Exploring my desire for men has led me in an interesting circle---back to my incredible passion for womyn. My queer world will have to stretch (again) to make room for my fantasies, and perhaps even an affair or two. It will have to stretch to make room for whatever I desire.
Finally I realize what I am so afraid of. I am afraid that men and penises have so much power in this heteropatriarchal world that simply desiring one can invalidate 25 years of deep womon-loving. I'm afraid that lesbianism is so fragile that it needs to be protected by an iron fence. I am afraid that by desiring a cock, I will be excommunicated, torn away from the world of womyn. I am afraid that if I allow myself to open, perhaps I will want more. This is why a lesbian wanting a man demands so much courage. Courage to stand outside of identity politics, to insist that our community grow to accept all of us.
My lesbianism is as sure and solid as the Himalayas, as predictable as the seasons and the phases of the moon, as familiar as a womon in my arms ("Wherever I go, there's one thing I know, I'm sure to have a womon around me"). My desire for men is as fleeting as good chocolate and ripe strawberries---not always available, sometimes bitter and disappointing, often intoxicating as nectar, somewhat allergic, and extremely tempting.
I can live with all these desires. I will not compromise myself again. Fitting in is less important than filling out. There is a revolution afoot, and it is stretching the parameters of the old gay life. The hundredth monkey. A friend says, "Oy, I'm not ready for this century." But she is. She is.
Just when I thought I'd made some sense of these desires for men and had come to peace with them, my ex-lover called. The butch who couldn't communicate and who could never fuck me right. She has something to share, something important, something very personal. She has decided to come out as a transgendered person---bi-gendered, s/he calls it. S/he has come to realize that s/he has both a male body and a female body. Hir language may be new, but the experience is familiar.
It was hir male body I always wanted. I'd called it butch. S/he says that when s/he is in hir male body s/he desires men; when s/he is in hir female body s/he desires womyn. In other words, s/he's as queer as a $3 bill.
Suddenly, a fog begins to clear. If I desired hir male body and hir male body desires men, and when s/he is in hir female body s/he desires womyn, then s/he must've wanted me womon to womon (or man to man?), while I wanted hir butch to femme (Dare I say, male to female?). Suddenly our sex problems become very clear.
I always felt hir switch. As I filled with desire, wanting hir hardness, her maleness, s/he would become soft, almost girly, and it was like someone pulled the plug on the bathtub, the desire leaked out of me, leaving me--us--empty.
This starts me thinking about the lover before hir. The one with the sweet curls in her hair, the big round belly, and the soft eyes. The kinky one, where anything goes. She loves my femme self, calls me bitch and desires to fell me with hardness, to force me into submission.
Somehow though, it never quite worked. I am beginning to see what went wrong. This one wanted butch/femme, boy/girl sex, and I wanted lezzie sex. I loved hir female body and wanted to touch her. S/he wanted to give me hir male body. When I tried to touch hir breasts, I was reminding hir that she was a womon and was therefore rejecting her power. The lover s/he picked after me identified as a heterosexual woman (although she too used to be a radical dyke). When my ex-lover told me this new lover wouldn't touch her (after all she did identify as straight), I thought, how terrible, such internalized homophobia. Now I am beginning to understand how, by ignoring the girl body, the boy could feel his power. It got old fast, but for a while it worked, fed the rejected boy place inside.
I began this piece saying I hadn't had a man in 15 years. I am beginning to suspect that I've had many men. They'd called themselves butches.
I suppose none of this makes sense if you just think about biological bodies. These girls definitely had female bodies, tits and ass, and oh, so lovely to touch. But there is no doubt that these womyn have also had dicks. I've never said this out loud before, because dick is a dirty lesbian word. But I have been filled by womyn's dicks, and no, they are not "just" dildos.”]
Lionheart, from wanting men, from genderqueer: voices beyond the binary, edited by Riki wilchins, 2002
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cursedvida · 7 months ago
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Clean Sky || Noa x Mae
Authors note: just a little oneshoot of this couple bc they inspired me so much. Not warnings, just Noa having a meltdown. English isn't my first language so i'm sorry in advance lol.
Humans were nothing more than echoes of a world that existed far from his own, outside the comfort of his village, and they had never sparked even the slightest curiosity in him. He knew they were wild, irrational beings, sometimes stealing ape's food if they weren't careful enough. Scavengers like any other animals, nothing out of the ordinary. Noa had never seen one in person, but he hadn't had any particular interest in doing so either.
Ironically, now he can't stop thinking about them.
Specifically, about her.
He often wonders what became of the human girl. Echo, Nova, Mae. As many names as faces, as many facets as secrets she holds. During the arduous mornings of work trying to rebuild the village, the young ape finds himself surprised more times than he'd like, thinking about how that skinny-legged, weak-armed human must be wandering alone in such a hostile world. Humans are quick and agile, but also fragile and delicate. During their time traveling together, Noa often felt that, if he wanted to, he could easily break her in two. If he had embraced her with the same fervor with which he pounced on Soona or Anaya, he probably would have broken her a bone. But then he reminds himself that it makes no sense to consider such a thing, because he would never have embraced a human, nor would he do so now.
Days pass and life in the village returns to normalcy, the routines that once brought him joy now become monotonous and bland, as if something inside him tells him that this is not where he should be. There is something within him, an inexplicable urge that pushes him to go beyond what he has always known. Perhaps it's because he hasn't completely shaken off the anxious anguish he felt watching his entire clan disappear, or it may be because of the infinite enormity of the world beyond the walls of his home he experienced during his travel. But at some moments, he realizes that maybe it's all because of the stars that, every night, remind him of the universe he saw through that human machine and that Mae seemed to long for as much as he did.
On clear nights, Noa can't help but wonder if the human is seeing the same sky as him, if the stars shining so brightly from his village are the same ones she can see. He never got to know much about her, and the little she wanted to reveal was probably lies, but there was something in her eyes the last time they met, a certain melancholic sparkle that has stuck inside him like a huge thorn he's unable to remove. He doesn't quite understand why the image of the girl's moist eyes comes to mind every time he closes his eyes on nights illuminated by the headlights of the universe, but every time he recalls her face, he feels a current that urges him to run away from there as fast as possible, leaving him utterly terrified.
He had never been interested in leaving his village or living away from his clan. His mother, his friends and the people he grew up with mean everything to him, and yet suddenly he remembers that human hands are terribly similar to his own, only much smaller, with fingers so delicate they almost resemble brittle branches. He had touched Mae's hand a couple of times, unintentionally, feeling skin devoid of calluses or roughness, smooth and soft skin that made him wonder how it could resemble him so much and yet be so terribly different.
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