#he gave them freedom to make mistakes and grow
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sweepweep · 1 year ago
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YES‼️
They may have powers beyond comprehension, but they are still children. They have powers, not experience. They have unique abilities, not the time to mature that the adults have had
Love it when there are characters who treat children with powers like a parent would. I love it when they go, "I am the adult here. Step back and let me handle this." They're much better than characters like Dumbledore. No idea, what that old fellow was thinking about. But anyways, Nanami from Jujutsu Kaisen and Reigen Arataka from Mob Psycho 100 come to mind. Good, reliable men who treat children like children.
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deewellsosd · 4 months ago
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Remembering the Fung Wah Bus: NYC to Boston’s Wildest Ride
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If you ever needed to get from New York City to Boston (or vice versa) on a tight budget, chances are you’ve heard of the legendary Fung Wah Bus. For years, Fung Wah wasn’t just a cheap way to travel—it was an experience. From its unbeatable prices to its wild reputation, Fung Wah was the stuff of urban travel folklore. Whether you loved it, hated it, or were just slightly terrified by it, one thing’s for sure: it was unforgettable.
The Birth of a Legend
Back in 1996, Fung Wah Bus started out as a little-known service shuttling people between Chinatown in NYC and Chinatown in Boston. Tickets were dirt cheap—sometimes as low as $10! Founder Pei Lin Liang had no idea he was about to start a revolution in intercity travel.
While companies like Greyhound and Amtrak charged way more for the same trip, Fung Wah attracted students, immigrants, and broke adventurers. The buses were simple: no Wi-Fi, no comfy seats, no frills—just a bus, a driver, and a promise to get you where you needed to go (more or less).
The Fung Wah Experience
Let’s be honest—riding the Fung Wah wasn’t for the faint of heart. The buses weren’t exactly luxurious, and the drivers? Let’s just say they had skills—skills that often felt like they were auditioning for NASCAR.
The stories from Fung Wah rides are legendary. Overheated engines? Check. Buses randomly pulling over on the highway? Oh yeah. Packed seats and questionable smells? You bet. But somehow, that was part of the charm. It was like a rite of passage for college students and budget travelers.
Despite the occasional chaos, people loved it. Where else could you spend a few bucks and make it to another city with enough left over for lunch?
The Rise of Chinatown Buses
Fung Wah’s success kicked off an entire industry of “Chinatown buses.” Suddenly, other companies were offering the same cheap rides between cities like Philadelphia, D.C., and Boston. These low-cost buses gave traditional carriers like Greyhound a run for their money, forcing them to drop prices and rethink their business models.
For a while, Fung Wah ruled this space, becoming the go-to option for anyone looking to save cash. Sure, it wasn’t the safest option, but hey—it got the job done.
The Downfall
But all good things must come to an end. Fung Wah’s fast-and-loose approach eventually caught up with it. Over the years, the company faced growing scrutiny for safety violations. There were crashes, breakdowns, and federal investigations.
By 2013, regulators had had enough. The U.S. Department of Transportation shut Fung Wah down, citing major safety concerns—like cracked bus frames. They tried to make a comeback in 2015, but it didn’t stick. And just like that, Fung Wah was gone.
A Legacy That Lives On
Even though it’s no longer around, Fung Wah lives on in the hearts (and memes) of those who rode it. It wasn’t just a bus—it was an experience. For many, it symbolized freedom, adventure, and a chance to explore without breaking the bank.
Today, plenty of budget bus options exist, and they’ve learned from Fung Wah’s mistakes. They’re safer, more reliable, and (sadly) less chaotic. But ask anyone who remembers Fung Wah, and they’ll tell you—it was something special.
Fung Wah in Pop Culture
Over the years, Fung Wah has become a bit of an urban legend. It’s been mentioned in stand-up routines, memes, and indie films. For those who rode it, these nods bring back memories of cramped seats, fast drivers, and the thrill of cheap travel.
Why We’ll Never Forget
Fung Wah wasn’t perfect, but it was iconic. It made travel accessible for people who couldn’t afford Amtrak or didn’t want to deal with Greyhound. It connected communities and opened up a new way to explore on a budget.
If you ever rode a Fung Wah Bus, you’ve got a story to tell. And if you never did? Well, you missed out on one of the most chaotic, thrilling, and oddly charming travel experiences ever.
Fung Wah may be gone, but its legacy is still rolling. Here’s to the little bus line that changed the game—and made the NYC-to-Boston trip one heck of an adventure.
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thecharacterchronicler · 9 months ago
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Perform || Coriolanus Snow x Reader || Smut
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Outline: You get married to Coriolanus Snow, a powerful man that you don’t even know, and try to adjust to your new life as his wife.
Word count: 3’500
Warnings: Arranged marriage, explicit smut and probably a few mistakes here and there because English isn’t my first language.
Author’s note: This may or may not be a prequel to There Will Come A Ruler. I’m not sure it fits all the details as it wasn’t planned but inspiration suddenly struck me so here it is.
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The room went dead silent as soon as you passed the threshold, numerous pairs of eyes turning to stare at you. There wasn’t a single familiar face among the men standing around the large desk, previously hunched over a pile of papers. You knew that they would never be able to tell how intimidated you felt under their severe gazes, you knew how to fake confidence better than anyone… However, two pale blue eyes seemed to be staring right into your soul, as if he knew.
“Great timing, we just finalized the contract.” One of the older man in a suit said, seemingly wanting to break the cold silence that weighted heavily on your shoulders. You nodded without a word, approaching the desk, coming to a stop next to the youngest man, the one with the unsettling eyes.
You turned your head to look at him more closely and his eyes darted away instantly, landing on a distant object at the opposite side of the office. He stood straight, his head held high and his arms crossed behind his back, impassible.
When you entered the room, he seemed to be radiating with light in the darkness of the office, surrounded by men in boring black suits while his was made out of an immaculate white fabric. Combined with the paleness of his skin and his carefully combed back blond curls, he resembled the image of an angel you had seen on a very ancient painting once. But his indifference towards you, and the icy stare he gave you, made it clear that you wouldn’t find solace in him.
“I reviewed the contract at your family’s request and made sure everything is in your best interest.” The man who had spoken to you already said again, handing you the very last page of the pile of documents on the table and an elegant pen to sign it with.
You didn’t doubt that the lawyer your family had hired was competent and probably too scared by them to dare make a mistake while establishing a contract in your name with an army of other lawyers in the room but you still felt compelled to take a look at the full file in front of you, ignoring the pen he was still holding for you to take.
Maybe it was a desperate attempt to gain time on your part more than a necessity to double check the terms and conditions of the agreement you were meant to sign but, as you glanced towards the man in white, you were pretty sure you saw the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, although he was still determined to not look at you directly.
Some clauses written on the paper seemed reasonable, others were more restrictive and some downright affected your freedom and free will but you knew you wouldn’t be able to negotiate anything better. You wouldn’t dare try anyway, everyone had been telling you what a privilege it was for you and what an honor it was for your family to be offered such an opportunity. Even in the high society of the Capitol, it didn’t happen often for a girl who had just graduated from the Academy to secure such an interesting match. It was even more rare that such a match didn’t require to be seduced in order to arrange a marriage...
“Everything seems in order.” You finally said, after taking your time to read each paragraph of the contract, ignoring the lawyers’ growing frustration and impatience around you.
“I can attest that it is.” The one lawyer meant to be on your side confirmed and, even if you felt the urge to tell him that he could have done better - or at least come to an agreement that wouldn’t force you to produce heirs in a few years - you quietly nodded, taking the pen he was offering you and writing your name at the bottom of the last page.
You paused for a moment, admiring your handwriting in black ink, a small gesture that sealed your future.
It was a privilege. An honor. One that you couldn’t refuse.
You took a step back and turned to the man in white, handing him the pen. He took it without looking at you, hunching his tall frame over the desk to sign his name next to yours in elegant calligraphied letters.
Coriolanus Snow.
You managed to take a deep but silent breath, the implications of the contract you had both signed downing on you. Your life was about to change forever, you’d have to leave your home, your family, everything and start a whole new life, with a man you didn’t even know. He was a complete stranger to you, all you knew about him was that he was the youngest head game maker for the Hunger Games in history, the protégé of Doctor Gaul herself and that, as if it wasn’t enough already, he had announced that he’d be campaigning to become the next president of Panem.
“Well, I hope you’ll be satisfied with the agreement, Mrs Snow.” Your lawyer said, but you didn’t realize right away that you were the one he was addressing, your new last name sounding foreign.
You forced a smile at him, watching as all the men slowly walked out of the office, leaving you on your own with your new husband. A shiver ran down your spine as the door closed behind them, a cold breeze caressing your skin. Coriolanus finally turned to face you, his icy eyes staring into your soul once again.
“I’ll meet you at the altar in three days.” He declared, emotionless. You quietly nodded, too intimidated to say a word. You knew that - much like the official documents you had signed already making you his wife - your wedding ceremony would be nothing like you envisioned it to be.
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Time flew by after that. You had spent it feeling mostly overwhelmed by the amount of things you were expected to do before the ceremony. You had to pack your belongings, decide what you’d take with you to your husband’s manor and what could be left behind, attend various appointments meant to get you to beauty base zero before your very public wedding and - even if you didn’t have a say in the preparations - you still had to make sure everything would look flawless on the big day, including yourself.
Your family’s chauffeur drove you to the venue early in the morning where a team of people were ready to take care of your hair, nails and makeup and would help you get into the gorgeous white dress that was selected for you by your new husband and his own team. You watched as your reflection kept changing in the mirror in front of you, making you look like a glamorous bride… The only thing missing to such a perfect portrait was a genuine glint of happiness in your eyes.
Once you were ready to face the crowd of onlookers, news reporters and photographers posted outside the venue - hoping to catch a glimpse of the newlyweds on their way out after the ceremony - the people who had prepared you left, leaving you on your own in the luxurious suit, barely recognizing the person facing you in the mirror.
The short hour before the ceremony felt like agony, your hands shaking in fear of not being good enough to live up to everyone’s expectations and your chest constricted with anxiety. You couldn’t help but wonder what people would think of you when they’ll see you in your bridal attire. Would they think you were a good match for a man as important as Coriolanus Snow ? See you as worthy to potentially become the First Lady of Panem ? Would they think you were a cute couple, or see you as an ill match ? And what about him ? Would he find you beautiful when you’ll walk down the aisle to him ?
A firm knock on the door saved you from drowning in your anxious thoughts. You were expecting your family’s lawyer to come by and give you a few advices on how to live your new life without inadvertently breaking some of the terms of the contract you had signed. You also knew the wedding organizer would show up to give you a few pointers for the ceremony and your public appearance after it…
But, when you opened the door, a surprised gasp escaped your lips. Coriolanus was devastingly handsome in a tailored white suit, more fitting and luxurious than the one he wore when you had met him three days earlier. There wasn’t a single strand of his blond hair out of place, not a trace of dark circles under his blue eyes while your team had spent almost an entire hour trying to conceal yours after the sleepless nights you had had.
He smiled at you in a way you weren’t certain was genuine and held up a huge bouquet of white roses, tied together by a blood red satin ribbon. You understood it was yours to walk down the aisle with, the flowers matching the one pinned to the lapel of his jacket.
“Thank you.” You said, as you took the flowers. He was looking at you without any hint of admiration in his gaze, as if the hours your team had spent on your hair and makeup and the expensive wedding gown you were wearing didn’t affect him at all. As if he still couldn’t care less about you… “I’ve heard it’s bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony.”
He huffed a mocking laughter at your words.
“Good thing we’re already legally married then.” He countered, the reminder adding to the panic in the pit of your stomach. “This ceremony is just meant to give them a good show.”
You knew that, of course. It was your duty - as his wife - to publicly appear by his side and pretend that you were overjoyed about it all. You were meant to help him build a flawless reputation so that he may eventually become president one day and you knew that his popularity was determined by how much the people could relate to him, or at least feel included in parts of his life. Soon, you’d be introduced to them as Mrs Snow and you couldn’t afford to mess up.
You turned around to place the beautiful - but surprisingly heavy - bouquet of roses on the vanity, hearing the door closing behind your back. When you looked over your shoulder, he was standing behind you, clearly expecting something from you although you weren’t sure what.
It was the first time you were fully alone with him, in such proximity to each other, and his intimidating posture added to the way his eyes darkened when they met yours made you feel quite weary, as if you were suddenly in some kind of imminent danger.
“Now turn around so I can make sure you’re ready.” He demanded, his voice slightly lower than usual.
You obeyed without a word, slowly spinning around twice as you felt the weight of his analyzing stare on you, making your body tingle with an odd electric sensation. Once you were face to face with him again, you couldn’t tell if he was satisfied or not by the way you looked, his expression serious and unreadable. A heavy silence lingered between you as you desperately hoped to hear a few words of affirmation to boost your confidence a bit… He didn’t say any but he took a step closer, his face closer to yours than what would be deemed acceptable between two strangers. He pushed a strand of hair away from your forehead, his eyes briefly plunging into yours before his hand traveled down to your mouth. He traced your lips with his thumb, fading out your lipstick slightly.
“I hope you paid attention to the wedding night clause on our contract.” He spoke, almost in a whisper. “Because as soon as we’ll be done performing for the crowd, I’m going to make you mine.”
Your body shuddered in response, and you weren’t quite sure if it was because it made you nervous or if because such a promise actually excited you somehow. You didn’t have time to think about it anyway, another knock on the door forcing you apart. The wedding organizer announced that the ceremony was about to start, forcing Coriolanus out of your suite, visibly oblivious to the tension that tainted the atmosphere between you. You took a deep breath to compose yourself, grabbed your bouquet and folllwed them out, ready to perform.
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You spent the whole ceremony in a daze, not quite realizing what was happening or what anyone was saying. But you still managed to say the one thing everyone expected of you; I do. You smiled as the crowd erupted in cheers, made sure to keep your eyes open despite the blinding flashing lights of the cameras on you and took the time to greet everyone of importance that was in attendance that day. When your new husband had to kiss you in front of hundred of curious faces staring at both of you, he did it softly and chastely which almost felt a bit disappointing considering the authority and confidence he had spoken with earlier. But it sure was a cute picture for the tabloids.
You returned to the mansion he owned in the most expensive and luxurious area of the Capitol and were showed to your new bedroom by a maid, noting how your belongings had already been unpacked and organized to make you feel at home. It was only after she helped you out of your wedding gown and into a more practical and relaxed dress that you realized that this bedroom was yours and yours only. There wasn’t a single item that looked like it could belong to your new husband, none of his clothes in the dressing room, none of the products he put on his hair to keep them perfectly combed back throughout the day in the bathroom. And, even though this man was still a complete stranger to you, you still felt a hint of disappointment at the realization that he wasn’t planning on spending any of his time with you if none of his potential supporters could witness it.
He still had been thoughtful enough to ask another one of his employees to deliver a black box to your bedroom, an unexpected wedding present. You opened it as soon as you were all alone and your eyes widened in shock, discovering some lingerie made out of the thinnest and softest lace you ever touched. It was a gorgeous set that complimented your skin tone so well, it almost looked like it had been made specifically for you.
You tried the pieces on, surprised to see how each of them fitted you perfectly and comfortably. However, even if you felt pretty good in your new lingerie, you felt too awkward to go find your husband with nothing else on, so you pulled your dress back over the lace, hiding everything from view, before you walked out of your bedroom, determined to find Coriolanus in the huge mansion you now shared with him.
You easily found him downstairs, sitting on a teal sofa in front of a modern chimney. He was reading with his ankle resting on top of his knee. He looked up to you as soon as you stepped into the living room, immediately folding his newspaper to give you his full attention.
“Is your new bedroom at your convenience ?” He asked, politely.
“Absolutely.” You replied, nervously fidgeting with your hands as you stood in front of him. “And thank you for the wedding present.”
“Does it fit you ?”
“Yes, perfectly.”
“Take off your clothes then.” He demanded, and you wondered how he managed to sound so intimidating despite sitting down and you, towering over him.
“Here ? Now ?” You exclaimed, looking around for house employees.
“I think I’ve waited long enough.” He declared, unwavering. “So take them off or I will.”
You did as he requested, nervously removing your casual dress so that you stood in nothing but your new lingerie in front of him. His icy gaze roamed your body from head to toe, his expression still too closed off to tell if he liked what he saw or not.
He stood up, bringing his hand to your chest and tracing the outline of the lace over your breast with a finger. Goosebumps rose on your skin in reaction, your heart beating faster so close to where he was touching you.
“Turn.” He commanded and you obeyed, feeling slightly more confident in this perfectly fitting set than you did in your wedding dress. You felt his hands on your body again, tugging the lower part of the ensemble down your thighs agonizingly slowly. Did it mean he didn’t like it ? Or was he simply curious to see what was underneath the thin lace fabric ? “Lie down.”
He gestured to the couch he was sitting on a minute ago. You followed his command, your head resting on a soft satin pillow and your knees pulled back to you to leave him enough room to join you. He sat down, fully removing the piece of underwear around your thighs and you shivered when he pushed your knees apart, once again analyzing your body with a critical gaze.
He leaned forward and you gasped when you felt the warmth and wetness of his tongue between your folds, tracing a few circles around your clit before moving down to your entrance. He sat back straight, an amused grin on his face as he licked his glistening lips and took in the shocked expression on your face.
“I needed to know how my wife tastes.” He explained, your body tingling with excitement. He opened up his trousers, pulling his long and hard erection out. Your eyes widened, taking in his size, which seemed to amuse him yet again. “You can take it.”
He sounded pretty confident about that but you weren’t so sure. You didn’t get the chance to protest though, because he immediately moved to align himself up with your entrance and pushed his tip through it without hesitation.
You gasped at the burning sensation, your fingers tightening around the edges of the couch. A satisfied groan rumbled in his throat as he kept pushing himself in, inch by inch until he was fully buried inside you and you couldn’t remember how to breathe correctly.
It wasn’t as pleasant to you as it seemed to be to him at first, your walls still stretching to accommodate his girth and length while he took advantage of the tighteness ensnaring him to push himself as deeply as he could.
It was too much. Way too much. But, just as you considered asking him to pause, suddenly your body stopped resisting him, welcoming him instead, allowing his cock to slide back and forth in rythym with the way he rolled his hips against you, causing a warm and tingly sensation to bubble up deep in your core.
You looked at him, holding himself above you with his strong arms on each side of the couch, his muscles carved under his pale skin. A blond lock of hair bouncing against his forehead in synch with his movements and his eyes were glued to yours, attentive to how your traits changed each time he modified the pace of his thrusts.
Soon, it felt like too much again, but in a good way. You felt close to imploding from how good it felt to have him hitting inside you at a relentless rythym.
You turned your head to the side, hoping the pillow would help silence your moans, worried that every employee in the mansion might hear the uncontrollable sounds of pleasure that kept resonating inside the living room.
“Look at me.” He immediately ordered, not waiting for you to obey as his hand flew to your face, turning your head so that you’d face him again. His fingers then dropped lower, wrapping around your neck, causing the whimpers escaping from your mouth to sound a lot more desperate. “I want to see what you’ll look like when you’ll come as I’ll fill you up.”
A few more thrusts of his hips, his tip hitting the perfect spot inside of you and you felt your whole body contracting intensely, your core tightening around him as you cried out in pleasure, closing your eyes and your mouth dropping open in shock at the intensity of the wave of sheer bliss that ran through your whole body.
“So beautiful.” He commented, his eyes fixed on you in genuine admiration this time. His labored breaths got louder and he climaxed, his erection throbbing as it spurt out a load of hot cum deep inside you.
♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡
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citrus-writing · 7 months ago
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Hello, i think i have a funny idea for some headcanons or drabble(s).
What if darling is yandere too?😈😈
I’d like to read young!Silva’s reaction on this, If you have inspiration, you can write about some other characters
(Sorry for mistakes, eng isn’t my first language. I hope I haven’t said anything rude!! (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥`) )
(I went ahead and added kikyo, illumi, chrollo, and hisoka cause i had some ideas for them!) 
This was a fun one to write! I just gave my general thoughts on a couple of the characters with a yandere darling. Silva was also a fun one to choose for this because i headcanon that kikyo is a yandere in canon, so Silva already knows how to handle a yandere wife. 
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Yanderes who would be thrilled to have a darling who was also yandere for them, it fuels their obsession with you- 
Kikyo- kikyo is a yandere who will never hide her obsession with you, no matter how she chooses to express her love, she always commits to it completely. So when she finds that you, her most beloved darling, feels the same way for her, she’s ecstatic. It’s the single greatest thing to ever happen to her, and it fuels her feelings for you, encouraging her to act more and more boldly. 
Chrollo- he’s perfect at keeping his more deranged feelings a secret, so it’s unlikely you would be able to tell how he really feels for you before he kidnaps you. And that makes it even sweeter if you were a yandere for him before he took your away- in fact, maybe he wouldn't even have to. Having a yandere partner perfectly fits into chrollo’s fantasy of a perfect romance with you. 
Yanderes who are mostly indifferent, it allows you to live almost like a normal couple, and they’re grateful for that- 
Silva- assuming this is either in a universe where silva and kikyo don't get married, or before they meet, silva has never felt for anyone what he feels for you- the affection, but also the overwhelming obsession, and at first he’s wary of that. His feelings aren't normal, and he is lucid enough to know that. But when you start to display a similar intensity in your feelings for him, it furthers his devotion and obsession with you. He’s also the type of yandere to let you get away with a surprising amount of freedom, and that freedom is extended as you prove your devotion to him. 
Yanderes who wouldn’t like to have a yandere darling, it takes all the fun out of thing when their darling is too comfortable with their behavior- 
Hisoka- hisoka wants you to be afraid of him, he wants you to cower and shake and tremble when he comes too close to you, he wants you to beg him to leave you alone just so he can press closer despite all your attempts to dissuade him. Having a yandere darling throws a wrench in those plans, and while he can adapt, maybe even make you chase him down, he’d much rather be the one chasing you down. 
illumi - illumi is completely unaware of how strange and unhealthy his feelings are, he’s convinced he’s completely normal and this is simply what love feels like. However, when you start to show yandere traits, he can recognise that those feelings aren't normal, and will try to curb those habits as they arise. It can be hard for him to accept the full spectrum of his darlings emotions, but it’s possible that if those feelings are love for him he could grow to accept them with time. 
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littlemissstel · 6 months ago
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Troublemaker- Shiu Kong
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What is Shiu to do when he gets a call from his daughter asking to be picked up? But he thought she was at home...
dividers by @saradika-graphics
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You and Shiu loved your kids. You did. However you had never known any others to be quite as monstrous as they were. Everyone said that they would eventually grow out of their mischievous ways, however after your eldest entered her teen years the untamable spirit she retained only grew and you came to believe they were just your karma personified. Your first was sneaky, the second was loud and hyperactive - causing a mess wherever he went- and your third...well you were lucky if she even gave you the time of day, rolling her eyes, she tended to use her face to express more than she did her words and was ever so cunning.
You tried to keep up but the weekends offered no respite as the chaos you normally got to hide from six hours a day continued at an unrelenting pace and left you as nothing but a mindless ghoul at the end of it as you collapsed into your bed.
Shiu would normally be right behind you in doing this, but tonight he managed to exert the last of his energy into tidying the remaining miscellaneous items that littered the dinning table before settling limply on the sofa, eyes closed and head tossed back. The idea was to secretly finish the remaining episode of a series you both binged, however the low rumble of your sons gaming console acted as white noise that tempted him into a deep sleep, the darkness becoming a blanket over him as he sunk further and further into the cloud cushions.
All was well. All was calm.
Was. The sound of his phone ringing pierced through the once so soothing atmosphere and he sprung up, reaching for his phone with such urgency he worried about throwing his back out. He waited a second, eyes adjusting to the brightness before recognising the name on the screen. His eldest daughter. Now was the time to sigh. The most she could want was a glass of water and a pack of sweets and he inwardly teased himself for acting so exaggerated.
"Hi, honey" he says though he was not welcomed with the same greeting. Instead a cacophony of unintelligible sounds blurred in his ear, forcing him to move back in both pain and confusion.
Well that certainly wasn't coming from here. The house was silent, the sound of a pin dropping could count as a disturbance, so what on earth was going on?
"Honey? Are you there?"
"Yeah" her uncharacteristically small voice calls out, and he can't help but notice the way it shakes. Sitting up and leaning forward, elbows on knees he gives her his full attention, acting as if she were sat in front of him.
"What's going on? You're not home are you?"
"No--and I'm so sorry", She breaks fully, "Can you please pick me up? I swear it's not that far a-"
"Send me your location. Are you hurt?"
"No..."
"Okay."
And the line continues without another word spoken. Though Shiu's mind was far from peaceful. The moment she had sent where she was he stepped on the peddle driving an inexcusable amount over the speed limit which was prompted by his sweet girls muffled cries.
The address seemed to be a house, at least she was in a residential area but what was she doing there? Who had she gone to see? Most importantly how did he not notice? A detective all those years and yet he couldn't figure out when his own daughter was in trouble. No, he couldn't figure out why she snuck out. He had tried his very best to give his children the freedom they deserved and he'd much rather know about their mistakes than have them make it alone. It's not like he ever denied them of going out and having fun without rational reasoning and they knew that- so why was he driving to an unknown location at 2 am to pick up his weeping daughter?
Unlike his previous experiences, the adrenaline spike he felt was anything but pleasant and his blood rushed with anxiety. Eventually he neared the location looking around hastily for any sign of his daughter.
"Where are you? Can you see me?"
And suddenly a figure emerged out of the dark from one of the porches, alerting a sensory light to come on where he saw his daughter in a state he would wish to erase. Stepping out of the car meeting her will-less body halfway he engulfed her into his arms, one wrapped securely around her head as he pressed a soft kiss into her hair. He was sure they were hugging for different reasons, him in deep relief that she was safe and hers for reasons unknown but it didn't matter now as she looked up, tearful, mascara smudged eyes meeting his and he felt his heart break once more. Quickly taking off the jumper he wore, he opened it ready for her to put on, she wore a lacey top and a skirt two inches too short - both of which he had never seen before- but perhaps now wasn't the time to bring it up, it was a wonder she didn't catch hypothermia before he arrived in the first place.
"I'm so sorry"
"It's alright" he assures, guiding her to the car, "Let's get home before you freeze."
The night continues with the two of them in the car silently, Shiu driving much slower than before as he cautiously looks at his daughter through the mirror. He wasn't quite sure what to do, if this would be the time were he says something to try and put her at ease, maybe berate her for doing something so careless. He wasn't quite sure he'd be speaking to the same daughter he was used to, never had he been warned about this kind of situation before when people teased him about having such a fiery child but right now it seemed that fire had been extinguished completely and he yearned for the slightest sight of a flame.
"Is there anything so undoing as a daughter?" Shiu repeated inwardly but it wasn't a question. He felt himself slip the moment she was born and now he grovelled in the helplessness as she grew.
He had been relying on muscle memory throughout the car ride as he thoughtlessly pulled into the driveway slowly and lowering the lights so as to not alert anyone inside. Ah...What was he to tell you? He would tell you, of course ,but now? Would you be mad if he waited until the morning, would your girl still be in such a sorry state when she woke up? A thousand more worries came up in Shiu's mind and what could soothe them?
"Thank you, Dad" The girl spoke out cautiously, already looking at him as he turned and he couldn't help but view her ten years younger.
Still at a loss he repeated the same phrase, "It's alright, Love." and gave a squeeze to her hand to which she gave a slight smile.
He sighed.
"I will have to tell your mum..."
The girl looked down and away.
"I know..."
"You know we aren't evil..."
"I know...but can we talk about it in the morning? please?"
"Okay."
And Shiu hoped that somehow, through the exchange and his eyes, she knew that he would always be there for her.
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Catch the arcane ref? I'm so happy with how this turned out!!!
Please feel free to leave any recs/ideas x
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 2 months ago
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Hi! Can I please request a soulmate!Jefferson x soulmate!fem!reader where she was born in Wonderland, but grew up in our world because her and her mom have the ability to create portals to anywhere she wants to go, even other realms. Basically she was born with the power that Jefferson’s hat does. Her Mom has that ability as well and got Y/n out of the magic realm before the curse hit, so she never got sent to Storybrooke (her Mom didn’t teleport in time so she got sent to Storybrooke). Because her Mom didn’t come with her, Y/n forgot about where she came from, she forgot about magic, her powers, her mom, all of it. Though, and she never knew why, as she was growing up in our world, she always felt very hyperfixated on the book Alice in Wonderland, collected many special editions of it (lol I’m going to tell on myself, I have like 13 different copies from over the years lol), different Alice in Wonderland decorations and collectibles, etc. she unconsciously finds her way to Storybrooke (she can go to and from Storybrooke like Emma can). And she finds herself in the bookstore, grabbing another copy of the book but someone else grabs in first (Jefferson!!). Anyways, he would probably automatically know who she is, that she is his soulmate and he probably could tell that she is from Wonderland (also that she has magic). He would definitely ask her to come with him to his mansion, and she’s in a bit of a daze from meeting her soulmate so she agrees. Maybe she’s there at the same time as Emma and Mary (when he trapped them there, he traps Y/n there too), but Y/n believes him, unlike Emma, and refuses to escape with Emma and Mary when they leave the house, so when Jefferson comes back to his house, he’s happy to see his soulmate is still there, and she runs up to hug him🥹
My Alice In Wonderland » Jefferson/Mad Hatter
Pairings: Soulmate!Jefferson x Soulmate!Female Reader
Summary: Jefferson finds his Alice In Wonderland in Storybrooke.
Warnings: Fluff, language, crying, kissing, pet names
A/N: Thank you for the request @kpopgirlbtssvt 🩵
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.
Header made by @buck-star
GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.
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WONDERLAND
Ever since you were a kid, your mom told you that you have the ability to create portals and go to different realms. All you need is magic to do that. To do that, she gave you a necklace with a gem on it. The gem lights up and you can open a portal to go to a realm. No matter if it’s in Wonderland or the Enchanted Forest, you can go anywhere you want. Within reason, of course. Sometimes, your mom goes with you and sometimes she doesn’t. She allows you to have the freedom to roam as you please.
“What realm are you going to today, sweetheart?” Your mom asks curiously.
“I was going to try to open a portal to the Enchanted Forest. I heard there’s beautiful flowers there and I would like to get some.” You tell her. “Would you like to come with me?” You asked.
“That sounds like fun, but maybe next time. Bring me back some flowers though.” She says with a smile.
You smiled and nodded. You then focused real hard. The gem on your necklace lit up, opening a portal in front of you. You looked at your mom with a smile before stepping into the portal, going into the Enchanted Forest. The portal closed behind you. You walked around for a little bit, taking in the scenery of the Enchanted Forest.
As you were walking through the forest, you heard giggles of a little girl. You smiled to yourself when you heard it, knowing that you’d like it there. The little girl was running around and playing. Her head was turned, looking at the person who was playfully chasing her. You assumed that the man is her father. Before either of you knew it, the little girl accidentally ran into you and fell to the ground, making an “oof” noise.
“Are you ok?” You asked the little girl, holding a hand out for her.
“Yes.” She answers, taking your hand and stood up. “I’m sorry for running into you.” She apologizes.
“Don’t worry about it.” You smiled.
She dusted the dirt off of her outfit. Her father walked up to her.
“I’m sorry about that. My daughter tends to get competitive when she’s playing.” The man says.
“That’s ok.” You say.
“I’m Jefferson and this is my daughter Grace.” He introduces himself and his daughter.
“I’m Y/N.” You introduced yourself.
“What brings you to the Enchanted Forest?” Jefferson asks.
“I’m just visiting and I’m also looking for flowers. I heard the flowers heard the flowers here are beautiful.” You say.
“There’s some over by that tree.” Grace chimes in, pointing at a point to the right of you three.
“Thank you.” You smiled. “I should get the flowers and get going before my mom starts to worry.” You say.
As you were walking away, Jefferson stopped you.
“Will we see you again?” Jefferson asks curiously.
“Soon.” You replied with a smile.
Jefferson smiled back, watching you walk towards the flowers. You picked a few flowers and then opened a portal to go back home.
“Mom, I’m home!” You announced, placing the flowers on the table.
Your mom walked in the living room with worry on her face, which made you frown.
“What’s wrong?” You asked.
“There’s no time for me to explain. Just know it has something to do with the Evil Queen. You need to go somewhere safe.” Your mom says.
Before you could ask about the Evil Queen, your mom opened a portal. You don’t know where though.
“You’ll be safe here.” She says.
“Are you coming with me?” You asked.
“I wish I could, but I can’t.” She says.
“I can’t just leave you here.” You say.
“Yes, you can. Now, go. I’ll be fine here. I love you, sweetie.” She says softly, kissing your forehead and gave you a hug.
“I love you too, mom.” You whispered.
You stepped through the portal and turned around to face your mom. You gave her a smile and a wave before the portal closed. Your eyes teared up and a single tear rolled down your cheek. You exhaled shakily before taking a look around the woodsy area you’re in. Now, you have to adjust to life in a world you haven’t been to.
STORYBROOKE
As you walked down the side of the road, you came across a sign that says “WELCOME TO STORYBROOKE, MAINE”. You figured if you kept walking along that road, you’ll be able to find somewhere to stay since there’s no way you’re leaving any time soon.
That was years ago. Now, you’re adjust to life in Storybrooke. Even though, it’s different than your old life, you still like it here. That sad thing is that you don’t remember anything about your old life. Your mom, magic, your powers, everything. You’ve been reading Alice in Wonderland books and you also have decorations and collectibles all around your house.
Today, you’re going to the book story to get another copy of Alice in Wonderland book. You went to the local bookstore to see if they have any. You went to the bookshelves with the fairytale books. As you were reaching to get the book, someone was also reaching for it and your hand bumped that person’s hand.
“Sorry.” You apologized.
“It’s alright.” Jefferson said.
Jefferson reached for the book and handed it to you. You smiled and took it from him.
“Is that your favorite fairytale story?” He asks curiously.
“Yes.” You answered. “This may sound childish, but I like to imagine I live in the fairytale world. I also have decorations and collectibles.” You say with a smile.
“It’s not childish at all. I think it’s cute.” He says with a smile.
There was something about Jefferson that intrigued you. Like a connection of some sort. Jefferson felt it too.
“I know this may seem a bit awkward since we just met and all, but would you like to come over to my mansion for tea tonight?” He asks.
“Oh- umm- I would love to.” You replied with a stutter.
One thing you learned about stranger danger is that you don’t go to a stranger’s house, but there’s something about Jefferson that tells you he’s not a stranger.
“You have a lovely mansion.” You complimented as you walked inside.
“Thank you.” Jefferson smiles. “You can wait in here while I get the tea.” He tells you.
You nodded and walked into a room that you assumed is the living room. You sat down on the couch and flipped through the Alice in Wonderland book you just bought while you waited for him.
“Find anything good?” Jefferson asks as he walks in the room.
“All of it is good.” You replied with a smile.
Jefferson sat down next to you and gave you a cup of tea.
“What brings you to Storybrooke?” He asks, trying to make conversation.
“Honestly, I don’t know. One day, I showed up here.” You say.
That was enough to tell Jefferson that you have powers of some sort. That’s when his eyes caught a glimpse of your necklace. He tilted his head slightly as he admired it.
“Thats a beautiful necklace.” He compliments.
“Oh, thank you.” You smiled, touching your necklace.
“Did your mom get it for you?” He asks.
“Honestly, I don’t remember where I got it.” You say.
“Well, it adds to your beauty.” He compliments.
You blushed. You were about to thank him when a sudden noise somewhere in his mansion startled you.
“Something probably fell off a shelf or something. I’ll be right back.” Jefferson says.
You nodded. Jefferson stood up and went to the room where Mary was tied up in. Emma was untying her. Jefferson stood in the doorway of the room and cleared his throat, startling the two women.
“It’s funny to think that you two can leave.” Jefferson chuckles. “Tie her back up.” He says to Emma.
Mary looked at Emma and shook her head no.
“It’s going to be ok.” Emma whispers to her.
Mary nodded as she tied her back up. Emma walked out of the room. Jefferson closed the door behind him. He grabbed her arm and led her to the room where his hats are.
“Sit down.” He orders, pointing at the chair behind the desk.
Emma walked over to the desk and sat down.
“What is it you expect me to do?” Emma asks.
“A hat.” He says.
“Don’t you think you have enough?” She says.
“None of them work.” He says.
Emma furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
“How do they not work? All you have to do is put it on your head.” Emma says.
“I need magic to get it to work.” Jefferson says.
Meanwhile, you were in the living room, flipping through your book. You sighed softly and stood up, deciding to roam around Jefferson’s mansion. You know it’s an invasion of privacy to snoop around someone’s house, but you couldn’t help yourself. Your boredom and curiosity got the best of you. As you were walking down the hallway, you heard Jefferson’s voice. You followed it to the room he’s in, leaning against the wall next to the door. You heard him talking to a woman.
“If you think she’s your daughter, why don’t you go to her?” Emma says.
“I don’t think. I know.” Jefferson says.
“It’s not that hard to just go to her.” She says.
“Actually, it is. I need magic for my hat to work and you have it.” He says.
“Magic isn’t real. I don’t have any powers.” She says.
Jefferson scoffs.
“Magic is real.” You chimed in, walking in the room.
Jefferson and Emma looked over at you.
“Do you seriously believe in magic?” Emma asks you.
“I like to think of it as a miracle.” You say.
Emma walks over to you, putting her hands on your shoulders.
“Did he tell you to say that?” She whispers.
“No. I genuinely believe in it.” You answered.
“You can tell me the truth.” She says.
“I am telling the truth.” You say.
“You know you can come with me. I can help you.” She says.
“I don’t want to leave.” You say.
“She’s not going anywhere.” Jefferson chimes in.
Emma glances at the open door behind you and made a break for it. Jefferson follows after her, knowing where she’s going. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Yet again, your curiosity got the best of you and you followed behind him. You heard and seen chaos break out in the room you entered. Your eyes went wide when you seen Jefferson go through the window.
“Jefferson!” You screamed, running over to the broken window.
You looked down, seeing nothing except broken glass. You turned around to say something to Emma and Mary, but they were gone. You were left in a confused and shocked state. You went back to the living room and sat down on the couch, trying to process what just happened.
You weren’t sure how long you were there. You heard a door open and close, along with familiar footsteps. You stood up from the couch and walked towards the sound of the footsteps. You gasped when you seen Jefferson. You ran over to him and hugged him.
“Thank god, you’re ok!” You say.
Jefferson smiles and wraps his arms around you. He felt a warmth in his heart.
“You stayed.” Jefferson says softly.
“Of course I did.” You said softly. “You’re my soulmate.” You smiled.
Jefferson smiles when he heard those words. He leans down and kissed you softly and passionately.
“And you’re my soulmate.” He whispers against your lips. “I felt it when I seen you in the bookstore.” He says.
“Me too.” You smiled.
“I love you, darling.” He murmurs softly.
“I love you too, Jefferson.” You murmured back.
🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩
-Bucky’s Doll
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kawacake · 1 month ago
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Designing Destiny
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Masterlist, Part two
Paring: Mitsuya Takashi x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: After a chance encounter, Y/N reignites Takashi Mitsuya’s passion for fashion, inspiring a collaboration that brings them closer with every stitch. But her toxic relationship with her possessive boyfriend Izana threatens everything, her safety, her freedom, and the quiet feelings growing between her and Mitsuya. As secrets unravel and tension rises, love and creativity become her only way out. But will it be enough to save them both?
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Romantic Tension / Slow Burn, Language, Emotional Manipulation, Verbal Threats of Violence, Dub/con by Izana, Toxic Relationship / Emotional Abuse. I would like to say those last three warnings are because of Izana NOT my glorious Mitsuya. OH! And I didn’t proofread so sorry in advance for any spelling mistakes that may have been made.
W/C: 6k+
A/n: this will have a second part to it but this have been STUCK in my drafts for way too long but I hope you enjoy this fic that took me two days to write cause I have raging writers block rn. Also don’t forget to leave a like and a reblog if you enjoyed this and if you would like you could leave a comment .
ART & DESIGN THEORY CLASS - MORNING
A sigh left your lips as you sat down in your seat placing your coffee down and reached in your bag to pull out your pen and notebook as the class soon started to fill up. “Y/n you’re here I thought I was going to be in class by myself again.” You heard Emma say as a smile appeared on your face, “I was working on a big project yesterday that’s why I missed class.” You explained to her as she listened and nodded her head.
Your talk with her was cut short as soon as the professor soon came through the door but that didn’t stop her from talking to you because you soon felt your phone vibrate, you opened it and saw two texts from Emma.
Emma — I found this page on depop it has some really nice stuff you should check it out and his name is Mitsuya or something like that
Y/n — Alright I’ll check it out but pay attention you’re already failing babes
Emma — No need to remind me💔
The name Mitsuya seemed familiar but you couldn’t pinpoint where you heard the name, after a few minutes you gave up trying to figure out who it was.
The rest of class went by rather quickly than normal and the clock hit 12. It was lunch. you grabbed your belongings and parted ways with Emma making your way to the dining hall. You didn’t usually eat lunch here but you really didn’t want to go off campus for food today.
Picking up a plate you started adding things to it but you soon felt a presence behind you causing you to pause and look behind you. “Are you okay? You don’t eat in the dining hall?” Izana said startling you “Where did you come from, you scared me.” You said to your boyfriend, he didn’t attend university so his sudden appearance shocked you. “I didn’t see your car moving to the wingstop or something so I came to see if you were okay.” He says as you picked up the last thing putting it on your plate and walked away with Izana following behind you.
“I just didn’t feel like leaving campus, that's all.” You say sitting down and he sat across from you. “Baby I could have brought you something.” He said softly while looking at you, “It’s fine I’m okay but are you doing anything today?” You asked him while taking a bite out of your food. “Not really, I mean you could skip the rest of today and spend it with me!” He said looking at you with lust in his eyes.
“I missed yesterday to be with you and lied to everybody saying I had a big project.” You say to him as he rolls his eyes, “Missing another day won’t hurt…matter of fact we can just skip your next two classes.” One thing about Izana is he’s possessive and he’ll always find a way to get his way….
“Izana..” “Please.” “Okay.”.
You stood up dumping the food that you didn’t finish away and the plate in the bin “Alright let’s go.” Izana said with a satisfied smile wrapping his arm around your shoulder. This is what you get for dating someone 8 years older than you.
-
The two of you ended up back at Izana’s house, a familiar space that you’ve been spending more time at than your own house. He had a way of convincing you to push your priorities aside for him, and as much as you loved him, you couldn’t ignore the creeping guilt about falling behind in your classes and missing out on things with your friends.
Izana sat on the couch manspreading. “You can come work on your big project now.” He said using air quotes and smirking at you, knowing full well you weren’t doing any kind of work. Giving him a small smile you sat on his lap and started placing kisses onto your lips and neck as you started to grind down onto him as a moan escaped your lips.
The moment was soon interrupted by the buzzing of your phone. Pulling it out you saw a notification:
New Listing from Mitsuya’s Shop
“Who’s Mitsuya?” Izana asked looking down at your phone “A seller I found online,” you replied casually not wanting to sound too interested. Izana raised a brow, clearly not pleased and took the phone. “Give it back what is your problem.” You shouted at him “You seemed more interested in a fucking seller online than paying attention to me.” He shouted back causing you to get ready to get up from his lap but was stopped by him holding you down.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to yell.” He says gripping your hips, keeping you still he then moved his hands from your hips to cup your face and kissed your face. “Hey I’ll make it up to you.” He said quickly grabbing the end of your shirt to pull it off of you and you let him, he then discarded the rest of yours and his clothes.
He was so stupid he thought having sex would fix all of your problems but it’s not like you could say anything about it because it would only end in an argument but it’s not like the sex is bad it’s just sex shouldn’t always be the solution to the relationship problems.
He stroked himself a few times before he started to rub his tip on your clit as you moaned and a smirk appeared on his face “My gorgeous girl.” He says finally thrusting into you as you let out a gasp.
Izana's head dropped while thrusting into you feeling the way you felt around him. A moan slipped out of his mouth as he started thrusting faster and you swore you started seeing stars. He was hitting all the right spots causing your moans to get louder while gripping onto the couch.
“You’re so perfect.” He said, wrapping his hand around your throat while squeezing. You grabbed his hand to stop him from trying to choke you but he only ignored you and thrusted faster. 
Tears started to form which only turned him on more. He leaned down to place a kiss on your lips but you turned your head away “Fucking brat.” He said gripping your throat harder and thrusted hard and fast.
“I’m gonna cum..Zana slow down.” You said but he kept the same pace while moaning your name. After a few more thrust from him you came leaving a white ring around him.
“I’m going to cum.” He huffed out now, removing his hand away from your throat now gripping your waist, using you as a fleshlight. “Pull out please.” You cried out but again he ignored you. His tip was hitting your cervix causing you to scream out as he hit that spot repeatedly loving to hear your moans and screams.
He threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut and gripped your waist tight enough to leave a bruise as he shot his cum into you with a moan.
You sat up quickly and looked at Izana. “I told you not to cum in me. I haven't taken the pill and you knew that.” You said “I know I’m sorry I just got carried away.” He lied and you knew he did “You’re fucking lying and you kept choking me knowing how I feel about that, you know what take me back to campus.” You said standing up grabbing your clothes to put them back on but he just let out a groan.
“Alright and I’m sorry I knew I shouldn’t have.” HE LIED AGAIN. Once you cleaned yourself up and put your clothes back on you exited his house, he was waiting in the car for you. Once you entered the passenger seat he placed a hand on your thigh.
“Just drop me off to get my car, I'll catch up with my work at home.” He shook his head in response, doing as you pleased because he wanted to get back on your good side before the day ended. As he drove the sun beamed down on you making you look more beautiful than ever as Izana snuck a couple of glances which it didn’t take you long to notice. “Stop looking at me.” You said still resting your head on the window without looking his way. 
He let out a chuckle, “I can’t admire my girlfriend anymore.” The sudden urge to throw up at him calling you his girlfriend kind of scares you because usually you would love it but you put a smile on your face to hide the disgust. “I don’t want you mad at me for the rest of the day.” He says but you didn’t respond and just stayed silent. After that the rest of the ride back to campus was silent.
“Thank you.” You said starting to exit Izana’s car as he waved you bye and you shut the door making your way to your car hearing his car drive away from behind you. He couldn’t even stay long enough to watch you get into your car, pathetic.
Starting the car you turned on the radio and pulled out of your parking spot.
Finally making it to your apartment you slipped off your shoes and made your way to your room. Looking around your room you realized how messy it was, different textures of fabrics everywhere. A month ago you promised yourself you wouldn’t do any more projects in your room but in the guest room that you made into your studio when you first moved in. 
‘I’ll shower first then clean the mess then my work.’ You whispered to yourself while grabbing your pajamas. 
You kept your word to yourself, you cleaned after you showered, now you’re scrolling through your classes modules doing the work you missed today while a fashion show played on the tv. Luckily it wasn’t much because most of the work for the classes was hands-on work.
New Listing from Mitsuya’s Shop
‘Again.’ You whispered to yourself seeing the same notification from earlier today on your computer. Clicking on the notification that popped up on the bottom of your computer screen it revealed a beautiful pink floral dress. Clicking off the dress to go look at the other clothing and fabrics you realized it was Tokyo based which made you excited, but you continued to scroll on his page. 
A bundle pack of fabric caught your eye looking through it and made you want it even more. You bit your lip debating if you wanted to message him about the bundle, ‘Fuck it.’.
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THE NEXT DAY - AFTER CLASS
As soon as class ended you gathered all of your belongings and checked your phone. Mitsuya had sent you the address earlier in the day, and now that you were free you decided to go.
The drive wasn’t too far, tucked into a quieter part of the city, the shop looked small from the outside but had a cozy, welcoming feel. The moment you stepped in, you were hit with the scent of fabric softener and cedarwood. Rolls of fabric were neatly stacked on shelves, and finished pieces hung on mannequins by the window. The sound of a sewing machine whirring filled the air.
“Be right with you,” a voice called from the back.
You waited, taking in the designs. Everything was crafted with precision, intricate embroidery, bold but elegant cuts. You reached out, lightly touching one of the pieces, when the curtain to the back room shifted, and a figure emerged.
Lavender hair. Calm but sharp eyes. The name suddenly clicked.
Mitsuya Takashi.
You stared at him eyes wide. “You’re the one who messaged me, right?” he asked, wiping his hands on a cloth. You nodded, still slightly stunned. “Yeah, I’m Y/N.” You say “You’re that one professional fashion designer.” You say as he gave you a breathtaking laugh that made your stomach do backflips. “Yeah I am.” He smiled slightly, nodding toward the counter. “I got the bundle ready for you. You’re into fashion design?”
You followed him, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nerves. “Yeah… I mean, I’m still learning. But I’ve been designing for a while.”
Mitsuya placed the bundle on the counter, carefully wrapped. “That’s cool. Not a lot of people really get into hands-on design anymore.” He leaned against the counter, watching you. “Most people just want to model the clothes, not make them.” You felt a little called out but still smiled at him.
“I sometimes do both but I do enjoy making the pieces.” You bit your lip, debating whether to say more. Something about him felt easy, like he wouldn’t judge. “I used to model a lot more, but lately, I’ve been focusing on design. I just… I feel like I want something that’s mine, y’know?” He raised his brow slightly before speaking “Really? That’s rare but I get what you mean.” He says as the room fell silent as you looked around.
“Hey, why are you selling all of your things?” You asked, seeing a bunch of things in boxes in the corner of the room. “I’ve just been unmotivated and I feel like I’ve lost my passion for fashion.” He confessed as your eyes went wide you looked at him, suddenly recognizing that feeling. The same exhaustion, the same weight pulling him down.
“I could help.” You say as he looked at you with confusion “You can help?” He asked as you nodded your head with a smile. “Mostly because I went through something like this.” You said relating to him feeling that way.
“You really think you could help me not want to quit fashion designing?” He asked, leaning against the counter with an amused smirk. “Obviously just let me work my magic.” You say as he just nodded his head, “Alright then before I let you work your magic tell me something about yourself because I don’t want you to secretly be a serial killer disguised as a fashion student.” He motioned you to come behind the counter so you could go to the back of the shop with him. 
You followed him to the back where he had beanbags, chairs, and supplies. It looked comfy so you took a seat on the chair as he sat beside you. “Okay so what got you into fashion?” He asked, giving all his attention to you. “You leaned back in your chair, tapping your fingers against your knee as you thought about where to start. “Well… I guess it all started when I was in middle school. My class went on this field trip to a fashion show, one of those big, over-the-top ones where the models walk down the runway like they own the world. I remember sitting there, completely mesmerized. The way the fabrics moved, the way each piece told a different story… it was like watching magic happen right in front of me.”
You smiled slightly at the memory, eyes flickering to Mitsuya, who was watching you with quiet interest. “After that, I became obsessed. I started collecting every fashion magazine I could get my hands on, cutting out my favorite designs and pasting them into a sketchbook. At first, I just copied what I saw, trying to understand how the pieces were put together, but eventually, I started creating my own designs. My parents noticed how serious I was about it, so they surprised me with a sewing machine for my birthday.”
Mitsuya let out an approving hum. “That’s a solid start.”
You laughed. “Yeah, except I had no idea what I was doing at first. I remember the first time I tried to make something, a simple skirt, nothing too crazy. I completely butchered it. The seams were all over the place, the fabric was cut unevenly, and don’t even get me started on the stitching. It was a disaster.”
Mitsuya chuckled. “Been there.”
You grinned. “But I didn’t give up. I kept practicing, watching tutorials, reading books, even taking apart old clothes just to see how they were made. My mom and dad were really supportive. They got me mannequins, more fabric, all the tools I needed. I’d spend hours in my room just sketching and sewing, trying to get better.”
You hesitated for a second before continuing. “By high school, I started making clothes for my friends. At first, it was small things, alterations, fixing rips, hemming dresses for school dances. But then people started asking me to design outfits from scratch. Prom was my big moment.” You smirked slightly, leaning forward. “I designed my own dress, completely from scratch. I spent weeks on it, making sure every single detail was perfect. When I walked into that dance, I remember feeling like I had actually made something special, something that was mine.”
Mitsuya’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “That must’ve been a good feeling.”
“It was,” you admitted. “That’s when I knew this wasn’t just a hobby for me, it was something I wanted to do for the rest of my life. After high school, my parents supported me again, paying for me to go to fashion school. I thought everything was going exactly how I planned, but…”
Your voice trailed off, and for the first time since you started talking, Mitsuya noticed a shift in your expression. He tilted his head slightly. “But?”
You exhaled, glancing down at your hands. “But somewhere along the way, I started feeling like I wasn’t good enough. Fashion school is intense. There are so many insanely talented people, and suddenly, I wasn’t just some girl who liked to make clothes, I was competing with people who had been training for this their whole lives. It started feeling less like a passion and more like… pressure.”
Mitsuya nodded slowly, as if he understood exactly what you meant.
“There were moments where I thought about quitting,” you admitted. “Like, maybe I wasn’t cut out for this. Maybe I should just give up and do something else. But every time I got close to walking away, I remembered that feeling I had at my first fashion show. That excitement, that rush of seeing something come to life. That’s what keeps me going.”
You looked up at Mitsuya, meeting his gaze. “And I think that’s what you need to find again.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just studied you, like he was trying to figure something out. Then, he let out a small laugh and leaned back in his seat. “Damn. You’re good.”
“What about you?” You asked as he sat up straight.
“Well for starters I lived with my mom and my two sisters but barely saw my mom so really it was just me and my sister’s and I was taking care of them most of the time,” he says looking up at the ceiling “…Back then, money was tight, and I had to make sure my sisters had what they needed. I picked up sewing because, well… someone had to fix their clothes when they ripped or got too small. At first, it was just stitching up holes and hemming skirts, but eventually, I started making things from scratch. Seeing them happy when I made something special for them, it kind of just stuck with me.”
Mitsuya let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “It wasn’t just about them, though. I actually liked it. The process, the creativity… taking something as simple as fabric and turning it into something meaningful. It felt like I was creating something that actually mattered.”
He leaned back, resting his arm on the back of the chair. “I guess that’s when I realized fashion wasn’t just a hobby for me. When I got to high school, I joined the Sewing Club, and that’s when I really started pushing myself. Competitions, designs, working with different fabrics, I loved all of it.” He paused for a moment, glancing at you. “Then, there was Toman.”
You tilted your head slightly, curious. “Toman?”
Mitsuya exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… I was in a gang back in high school. Not the kind that ran around causing chaos just for fun, we actually had a purpose. And I was one of the founding members.”
Your eyes widened slightly, but you didn’t interrupt.
“I designed our uniforms. It was the first time I got to merge my love for fashion with something bigger than just me. I wanted us to look like more than just a gang, I wanted us to have a presence, something that told people who we were before we even had to say a word.” He smiled slightly, lost in the memory. “It worked. People recognized us just by what we wore.”
He turned back to you, his expression softening. “Even after all of that, after Toman disbanded, I knew I didn’t want to give up fashion. I wanted to build something with it, something that could actually provide for my family, make a real career out of it.” He gestured toward the shop around him. “That’s what this was supposed to be. My dream.”
Your gaze flickered back to the boxes stacked in the corner. “And now you’re giving it up?”
Mitsuya sighed, running a hand through his lavender hair. “I don’t know. Lately, it feels like I lost something along the way. Like I’m just going through the motions instead of actually creating.” He shook his head, laughing a little. “I sound dramatic, don’t I?”
You shook your head. “Not at all. I get it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? You gonna psychoanalyze me now?” You smirked. “No, but I meant what I said earlier, I can help. You just need a push, someone to remind you why you started in the first place.” Mitsuya studied you for a moment before a small, genuine smile crossed his face. “Alright, Y/N. Show me what you got.” A smile spread across your face.
“First we’re going to try new things such as exploring different styles because you’re going to get bored if you’re always doing similar looks.” You explain to him looking around at some of his pieces noticing he went for an elegant minimalism style. “Then I’m going to get you out of this building and we’re going to explore and get your mind off of designing because sometimes all you need is to get your mind off of it.” You say clapping your hands together as he just watched you nodding his head at everything you were saying.
“I was thinking of doing a collaboration where we work on a singular dress using both of our aesthetics and then I make the dress and you wear it.” He expressed as your eyes went wide as you instantly agreed with the idea of that.
-
So much time had passed that you didn’t know it was already dark outside until Mitsuya walked you out of the shop to your car. “I didn’t know we had been together that long.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck as the two of you approached your car. “Well time flies when you’re having fun I guess.” You say pulling out your car keys “I’ll message you tomorrow morning to remind you about us going to the thrift store for the supplies for the dress.” You say opening the car door as he just nodded his head “I won’t forget.” He said looking down at you with a smirk.
“Alright well I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave you a nod and shut your door watching as you pulled out of the parking lot. 
As your car disappeared down the street, Mitsuya let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He stood there for a moment, hands in his pockets, staring at the now-empty space where you had just been. It had been a long time since he’d felt this way, this sense of excitement, of genuine enjoyment.
For weeks, maybe even months, he had felt like he was just going through the motions, watching his passion slip away piece by piece. But tonight had been different. Working with you, talking about fashion, sharing ideas didn't feel like an obligation. It felt right.
His fingers absentmindedly traced the fabric of his hoodie, and he found himself picturing the dress again, the way your aesthetics clashed yet complemented each other. The way you had listened so intently to his story. The way you had encouraged him without hesitation.
Something warm stirred in his chest, unfamiliar but not unwelcome.
With a small chuckle, he shook his head and turned back toward the shop, locking the door behind him. Maybe just maybe this was exactly what he needed.
You on the other hand pulled out your phone as soon as you reached a stop sign realizing you hadn’t checked it at all while you were with Mitsuya, and now after checking it all the happiness and joy that was just in you had been replaced with fear as you read the text messages your boyfriend had sent you and the 25+ missed calls from him. How could you not notice the phone ringing or the dings from the messages from him.
8:03 PM – Where are you?
8:15 PM – I called you. Pick up.
8:30 PM – Why aren’t you answering?
8:42 PM – Who are you with?
9:00 PM – Don’t make me come find you.
9:15 PM – I swear to God, Y/N, if you’re ignoring me
9:30 PM – Answer. The. Phone.
9:45 PM – You think I don’t know where you are?
10:00 PM – Come home. Now.
‘Fuck’ you mumbled under your breath as you pressed on the gas as the light turned green soon turning into your apartment complex, as soon as you parked you noticed a familiar car beside yours as you mentally screamed and fell out but you pulled yourself together stepping out of the car. 
As soon as you stepped out of the car, you felt your stomach drop. Izana was leaning against his car, arms crossed, eyes dark with something unreadable, but dangerous. The second his gaze locked onto you, you knew this wouldn’t end well.
“You finally decided to show up,” he said, voice eerily calm. Too calm. That was always worse than when he was outright angry.
You swallowed hard, gripping your keys tighter. “Izana, I-”
“Where the fuck were you?” he cut you off, pushing himself off the car and closing the distance between you in a few long strides. His presence alone felt suffocating. “You didn’t answer your damn phone. I had to sit here wondering if something happened to you, or if you were just ignoring me.”
You took a slow step back, trying to keep your voice steady. “I wasn’t ignoring you, I was busy. I told you I was working on something.”
“With who?” His jaw tightened, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
You hesitated, knowing how this would go, but you refused to lie. “Mitsuya.”
His expression shifted instantly. The calm cracked, revealing something much uglier beneath. He let out a low, humorless laugh. “Mitsuya? So that’s why you couldn’t answer me? You were too busy playing dress-up with him?”
“It wasn’t like that,” you defended, keeping your tone even. “We were just-”
“Just what?” he snapped, stepping even closer, forcing you to look up at him. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Y/N. You think I don’t see it? You think I don’t know how guys like him look at you?”
You exhaled sharply, the fear now mixing with frustration. This wasn’t the first time Izana had acted like this, but something about tonight made you snap. Maybe it was the contrast, the warmth of Mitsuya, the genuine happiness you felt for the first time in a while, now being completely crushed under Izana’s paranoia and control.
“I can’t do this anymore,” you said before you could stop yourself. The words just slipped out, but the second they did, you knew they were true. “I’m done, Izana. This isn’t normal. The way you treat me, it’s not love, it’s control, and I’m tired of pretending like it’s okay.”
For a moment, he just stared at you. Then, to your horror, he laughed. A slow mocking laugh as he tilted his head, eyes showing no sign of sanity just something dark. “You’re breaking up with me?” He asked, stepping closer to you leaving no space. “You don’t mean it, you’re just really upset right now.” He said, dragging his hand on the side of your face. 
“I do,” you said firmly, forcing yourself to hold your ground. “I want this to be over, Izana. I don’t want to be with you anymore.” His smile dropped instantly, replaced by something dark and unsettling. 
“That’s cute,” he muttered fingers rubbing your cheek with a small chuckle “Real fucking cute,” You flinched at his words “Cute that you think you could just leave me after all the shit I’ve done for you.” He said now gripping your jaw causing your breath to hitch, everything in you told you to run but you know if you run he’d chase you.
So instead you just kept your composure, “I already did.” And for the first time tonight he didn’t say something which sent chills down your spine as his fingers twitched, as if he debated on grabbing you, but something in your eyes made him pause as he backed off with a scoff. “You’re making a mistake, Y/N.” Maybe. But staying with him would’ve been an even bigger one.
Without another word, you turned and walked straight into your apartment, locking the door behind you.
-
FASHION ILLUSTRATION CLASS - NOON 
This was the last class of the day and usually this class would pass quickly but it’s as if the universe knew you had plans after making the class go by longer than any of your other classes. You should be crying because of your break up with Izana but something deep down felt good about it as if you had been waiting for this moment for months.
“Well that’s it for today I have nothing else to say but do remember you have to submit your sketches tomorrow.” The woman that stood in front of the class explained as everyone just nodded while packing up their belongings and made their way out the class. 
You slung your bag over your shoulder and stepped out of the classroom, the bustling energy of the hallways pulling you back into the present.
Thrift shopping with Mitsuya. The thought alone brought a small smile to your lips. It was something to look forward to a fresh start, even if it was just for the day.
Just as you pulled out your phone to text him, a familiar voice called your name from behind. “You look way too happy for someone who just got out of class.”
You turned to see Emma hurrying toward you, adjusting her tote bag over her shoulder. Her eyes scanned your face, and then she narrowed them suspiciously. “Wait... why do you actually look happy? What happened?” “I finally broke up with your brother.” You say with a smile plastered across your face.
“FUCKING FINALLY!” She said, grabbing your shoulders more excited than you, “I hope his psychotic ass isn’t planning anything.” You nodded your head “But I’m not worried I’ve got other things to worry about.” You say pulling your phone out again to text mitsuya you were out of class about to drive to the thrift store now. “OTHER PLANS AS IN A PERSON?” “Shhh you’re loud people are still in class.” You say using a hand to cover her mouth.
“Sorry.” “But yeah I’m hanging out with someone we’re going thrift shopping for a dress we decided to collaborate on.” A smile was on your face as you told her that. “Well... I’m glad you’re doing something that makes you happy.”
You smiled at her before checking the time. “Speaking of which, I gotta go. I’ll text you later, okay?” She nodded, still watching you closely. “Be safe.” You waved her by as you made your way out of the building walking towards the parking lot to your car. 
The thrift store you had picked wasn’t too far, tucked into a quieter part of town. As you parked, you spotted him leaning against his motorcycle, scrolling through his phone. He looked up as soon as your car pulled in, slipping his phone into his pocket.
“You actually showed up on time. I’m impressed.” You scoffed, grabbing your bag as you stepped out. “I’m always on time.” “Uh-huh,” he smirked, leading the way inside.
The moment you stepped in, the scent of old books, fabric, and something faintly floral filled the air. Racks of vintage clothing lined the space, along with shelves stacked high with accessories, buttons, and sewing supplies.
“They have such good fabric.” You say running your fingers through the different types of fabric as Mitsuya just watched you with a soft smile on his face. 
For the next hour, the two of you combed through the store, bouncing ideas back and forth, debating fabric choices, sketching quick concepts on scrap paper. It was effortless, like the ideas just flowed between you.
At one point, you held up a deep red silk fabric, watching how it caught the light. “This would be perfect for the base.”
Mitsuya nodded in approval, fingers brushing over the material. “Yeah, with the right structure, it’ll drape perfectly. Maybe add some intricate embroidery details.”
The conversation kept going, the energy between you two crackling with inspiration. And for the first time in a long time, Mitsuya felt it, that feeling. The passion for design that he thought had slipped away.
And it was because of you.
“You’re supposed to be the man but you got me carrying the bags.” You complained holding all the bags in your hand as he crossed his arms “You’re the one who snatched up all the bags when the cashier got done ringing it up.” He argued but you only let out a sigh.
“I’ll meet you back at my studio/shop or whatever you want to call it.” He said, sliding his helmet on as you nodded entering your car throwing the bags in the passenger seat.
-
Finally arriving at his shop you grabbed all of the bags and made your way inside. “You drive slower than my little sister.” You looked over at Mitsuya and rolled your eyes. “Well sorry I went the speed limit and didn’t run a red light like a specific person.” You say following him to the back soon dropping the bags on the couch.
He pulled out the materials you would need to start the making of the dress. “Wanna play some music?” He asked pulling out a speaker as you nodded your head yes and he turned the speaker on, scrolling through his playlist till a familiar song started playing. 
[Listen to Red Terror by The Weeknd]
You looked up from the fabric you’d just started cutting, your eyes meeting Mitsuya’s as he let the sound wash over him. A slow grin spread across your face as you both instinctively started mouthing the lyrics, heads swaying in rhythm.
Then, without warning, you softly sang, “Then moved to the city, eight months we were pregnant…”
Mitsuya raised an eyebrow, then without missing a beat joined in, “You came out so precious, in the snow you would grow…”
Your voices blended, off-key in the best way, the kind of raw, unfiltered singing only possible in safe company.
He picked up the measuring tape like it was a mic stand, dramatically clutching it to his chest. “Hush, my child, you’re mine…” he crooned, closing his eyes and overacting every lyric.
You burst into laughter, swaying your hips exaggeratedly like a backup dancer, grabbing a scrap of fabric and spinning in a mock twirl.
“I’m sorry mama, I’m sorry mama!” you both sang out, fingers pointing at each other like dramatic soap opera characters. It wasn’t just funny, it was freeing.
For Mitsuya, it wasn’t about the song, it was about the moment. The music, your voice, your laugh echoing off the studio walls. The sound of scissors on fabric, pencil dragging over paper, the shared glances when an idea just clicked, it all reminded him of why he fell in love with designing in the first place.
Not because it was easy.
Not because it paid well.
But because of the feeling it gave him.
This warmth in his chest that hadn’t been there in a long time. When the song faded into the next, the two of you were left catching your breath, smiling, faces still flushed from laughing too hard.
“That was a Grammy performance,” you said, flopping back on the couch. He leaned over, elbows on his knees. “We should go on tour. Or at least do karaoke sometime.” You nodded. “As long as you promise not to steal my shine again.” He smirked. “No promises.”
“You’re fun to be around, you know that?” he said, a little quieter this time.
You looked back at him, your smile gentler now. “Yeah. You are too.” He smiled “Well I know I am I’m literally the main character.” He said as you gave him a smug look walking away from him to grab more fabric. 
The speaker still hums in the background, low and steady, one of your shared playlist songs fading into the next. The room is a beautiful mess, thread spools scattered like confetti, pattern paper curled at the edges, scissors and tape and half-drunk coffee cups littering the workspace. But in the middle of it all, there’s focus. Passion. A quiet kind of joy.
You and Mitsuya sit cross-legged on the floor, bathed in the soft glow of the desk lamp. Chalk dust clings to your fingers and red silk pools like wine around your knees. Mitsuya adjusts the dress on the mannequin, stepping back to take it in fully. You finish threading your needle, tying off the hem you were working on with a neat final stitch.
There’s a beat of silence as you both look at the dress.
“That’s it,” he says finally, voice hushed with a kind of awe. “That’s the one.”
You stand slowly, brushing your hands off on your skirt as you step beside him. The dress is bold and elegant, sleek lines, structured bodice, just enough drama in the drape of the fabric to demand attention. But more than anything, it feels like something the two of you made together. Like it has your fingerprints woven into the seams.
“It’s perfect,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him.
Mitsuya glances at you, his profile soft in the lamplight. “We’re actually geniuses,” you say with a grin, bumping your shoulder lightly against his.
“I’ve been telling people that for years,” he shoots back, lips quirking in that familiar way that always makes you smile.
You laugh, the sound lighting up the space between you, and for a second everything feels… suspended. Like the whole world has narrowed down to this moment. The scent of fabric, the warmth of the room, the quiet hum of music, and him.
Your eyes meet his.
And it lingers.
A quiet, unspoken thing pulses beneath the surface, something that neither of you has said out loud yet, but it’s there, hanging in the air like the last note of a song.
You look away first, cheeks warm, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I should go,” you murmur, your voice a little softer now. “It’s getting late.” He nods, though his expression shifts almost imperceptibly, like part of him wants to ask you to stay. “Yeah. Text me when you get home, yeah?” You give a small smile, already grabbing your bag. “Of course.” He follows you toward the door, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. “Drive safe.” “I will.”
You pause at the threshold, turning back just for a second. Mitsuya’s standing there, backlit by the soft glow of the studio, surrounded by pieces of his dream. And somehow, it already feels like a place you’ll return to.
“Hey,” you say, your hand resting on the doorknob. “This was fun.” He smiles, not the smirk he gives everyone else, but the one that’s just for you. “It was more than that.” You don’t say anything else. You just smile, nod once, and disappear into the night.
As the door shuts behind you, Mitsuya exhales slowly, looking back at the dress, and for the first time in a long time, he feels it again.
Hope.
32 notes · View notes
nausicaamusiclover20 · 3 months ago
Note
I love your stories so so much and your writing is AMAZING I just disconnect of the world and feel like I’m just right there! I was wondering if you could write a Dave x reader smut story? The reader and Dave knew each other because she was friends with Metallica before they kicked out Dave and for that reason he didn’t like her at all, but a long time after they meet again when Dave is in Megadeth (maybe the 90s?). She tried talking to him but he act’s distant because he doesn’t want to show his feelings to her because he felt betrayed by her too even though she had nothing to do with the band decision, but as the time passes by, the tension grows and… you know 🤭
P.S: ROUGH DAVE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE 🙏
Sorry if I didn't posted, but last week I coudln't even breathe.
Hope you like it!❤
Warnings: NSFW, mature themes, sexual themes
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Unforeseen Feelings
Walking into the bar, the familiar scent of stale beer mixed with the sweet aroma of forgotten dreams hit me like a wave. The low hum of classic rock filled the air, and for a moment, it felt like I was stepping back in time. Yet, the past carried the weight of memories and a certain man who occupied so many of my thoughts—Dave Mustaine.
I scanned the room, my heart racing with anticipation and dread. There he was, slouched at the end of the bar, a whiskey glass halfway to his lips. The years had been unkind, but they hadn't dulled his rugged charisma; if anything, the hard lines on his face only enhanced it. He had changed, yet there was still that recognizable spark of defiance in his eyes.
Swallowing hard, I approached him, my feet feeling heavier with each step. Memories of our past flashed in my mind—a friendship that had been twisted the moment Metallica's betrayal had taken him down. What had once been camaraderie had splintered into silence and distance ever since.
“Hey, Dave,” I attempted to sound casual, but my voice betrayed me—a waver slipped in as nervousness took hold.
He turned slowly to face me, his expression unreadable. “What do you want?” There was an edge to his tone, sharp enough to make me take a half-step back.
I bristled at the coldness, crossing my arms defensively. “I came to see how you were doing, but clearly, that was a mistake.”
His derisive laugh echoed around us, a bitter sound steeped in old wounds. “Just because you’re friends with them doesn’t mean I want to talk to you,” he replied, casting his eyes away from me.
The words stung, igniting a flash of anger within me. “You know I had nothing to do with that decision, Dave! You never even gave me the chance to explain.”
“Why would I trust you?” he shot back, disappointment lacing his tone. “You were close to them. You had every reason to side with them.”
I took a deep breath and leaned closer, my determination flaring. “But you didn’t even ask! You just shut me out, like I was part of the betrayal.”
His shoulders tensed, the defensive wall he’d built around himself thickening. I saw the doubts and hardships wrestling within his eyes; the conflict was palpable. “You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered, looking away.
“Try me,” I urged, my heart pounding as I drew closer.
The silence stretched, filled with unspoken words and emotions. He hesitated, and just for a moment, I saw a glimpse of the man he used to be—the one who smiled easily, the one who found joy in every riff. I remembered all those carefree nights we spent together, laughing and enjoying life.
Flashback
It was only a year before everything changed; we were hanging out backstage while the band prepared for a gig. The energy was electric, and the freedom of youth felt like a never-ending promise. Dave had flung his arm around my shoulder, his laughter echoing.
“You know what? Once we make it big, we should go on a trip together!” he exclaimed, a wild grin spreading across his face. It was the perfect night—music playing, laughter ringing through the air.
But soon after, shadows began to gather. The tensions I hadn’t noticed were festering. When Metallica’s betrayal came to light, it shattered him; it shattered us both. I could see it in his eyes but had no idea how deeply it would ripple through our shared world.
End Flashback
I took a sharp breath, feeling the weight of that memory press against my chest. “You didn’t give me a chance to explain,” I said softly, reaching for his hand, but he withdrew it before I could make contact.
“You’re friends with them. Why would you want to help me?” he retorted, his voice a mix of hurt and anger.
“Because I care about you, Dave,” I confessed, my heart racing, desperation filling my voice. “I never wanted to be caught in the middle of your pain.”
He continued to look away, the inner battle clearly visible on his face. “Then why are you here now?” he finally asked, his tone softening slightly.
“Because I’ve missed you!” I said, the exasperation in my voice ringing out clearly. “I can’t stand this distance between us any longer. I want to talk to you—not about the past, but about now.”
His eyes met mine, and within that moment, something shifted in the air; the hardness of his expression faltered, presenting a vulnerable side I hadn’t seen in years.
“I…” he started, but words failed him. I could see he was torn between the walls he’d built around himself and the longing that had lingered beneath the surface.
In an impulsive moment, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his, yearning to bridge the chasm that had formed between us. His body stiffened in surprise, and for a few heart-stopping seconds, time seemed to freeze as a whirlwind of emotions swirled around us.
When I pulled back, my heart raced at the surprised expression on his face. “You’re so stupid; couldn’t you see I wanted you?” I breathed, searching his gaze for any recognition of my feelings.
He blinked, still stunned. “You shouldn’t have done that, Y/N,” he murmured, recovering from the shock.
“Maybe I wanted you to notice,” I replied, feigning bravado even as warmth flooded my cheeks.
A slow smile crept onto his face, a dangerous spark igniting in his eyes. “Maybe it’s time you learn how this really works,” he growled, pulling me closer so our bodies crashed together. The heat radiated between us like a force of nature.
“Let’s get out of here,” I suggested, the urgency of the moment urging me to act.
He took my hand, and we stepped outside into the cool night air. The ambiance of the bar faded behind us, but the heat between us only intensified as we wandered onto the dimly lit street.
“Where to?” I asked breathlessly, glancing up at him.
He looked down at me, his expression softening. “My apartment is just a few blocks away. We’ll be alone there.”
The thrill of his words sent a spark coursing through me. I nodded, and we walked in a comfortable silence, anticipation crackling between us.
When we finally arrived at his apartment, the door barely had time to click closed before he was upon me again, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss. His hands found my waist, drawing me possessively against him, and I melted into him, feeling the years of unresolved desire ignite like a flame rekindled.
“God, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured between kisses, breathless and wild.
I leaned into him, feeling emboldened. “Then show me how much you want me.”
His hands slid from my waist to grip my shoulders as he kissed me deeper, any remnants of hesitance dissipating. In that moment, he moved us through the dimly lit space of his apartment, not breaking our kiss, until our backs hit the wall near the door.
The coolness of the wall contrasted starkly with the heat radiating from our bodies. He pressed against me, and I gasped, feeling every inch of him—hard and desperate for my touch. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as I relished the feeling of his body against mine.
He broke the kiss, taking a step back to look at me, his eyes dark with desire. “Are you sure?” he asked, genuine concern mixed with lust in his voice.
“Yes,” I breathed, my heart pounding. “I want you, Dave. I’ve wanted this for so long.”
With a primal urgency, he grasped my waist and lifted me effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around his hips, holding on tight as he carried me to his bedroom. The passionate energy crackled between us, charging the atmosphere as he set me down on the edge of the bed.
“I can’t believe we’re here,” he said, running a hand through his hair. His eyes were ablaze with desire, and I felt the intensity in the air between us.
Neither of us wasted time; the moment felt too precious to lose. He leaned in, capturing my lips with his once more, and I could feel every kiss building the tension that had long been held at bay.
As he kissed me passionately, his hands roamed my body, exploring the curves he had longed for. I pulled him tighter against me, feeling the heat of his body seep into mine. Everything else faded away; there were no past betrayals or anger, only the two of us entwined in this moment of pure desire.
With a surge of confidence, I began to undress, feeling liberated and free. Dave watched, his gaze hungry, and I could see his chest rise and fall with need.
“Let me,” he murmured, taking my hands and guiding them away, before leaning down to press heated kisses along my neckline. I shivered, my body responding instantly to every gentle touch.
“Dave…” I gasped, feeling a rush of pleasure as his lips moved lower, trailing kisses along my collarbone and heading towards the fabric of my shirt.
“I want to savor this,” he whispered against my skin
As his lips danced along my collarbone, I marveled at the way he explored me with both tenderness and urgency. My heart raced, and every kiss sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body. The mix of desire and anticipation had me teetering on the edge of bliss.
“Dave…” I gasped, feeling his warmth envelop me as he peeled away my shirt, revealing my skin to the cool air of the room.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he took a moment to drink me in. The sincerity in his tone sent a thrill down my spine, igniting an overwhelming desire within me.
He leaned in, claiming my lips once more, and I could feel his need mirrored in every touch, every kiss. I ran my fingers through his hair as he explored my body, revelling in the way he savored every inch of me. Moving with a confidence that came from years of pent-up longing, he gently pushed me back onto the bed, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I want to make you feel good,” he said, a teasing grin on his face that sent sparks flying through my chest.
Then, with a sudden burst of playful energy, he kissed a path down my body, his hands exploring my curves with a reverent touch. My senses lit up as his mouth moved lower, and I could hardly contain my moans as the heat between us intensified.
“Just like that,” I urged, feeling the tension building within me, the anticipation overwhelming.
With careful precision, he took his time, making sure to ignite every nerve ending as he worshipped my body with his lips. The world outside faded away, and nothing existed but the two of us, lost in our own private paradise.
“Dave, I need you,” I gasped, arching my back against the sheets, all too aware of how close I was to the edge.
“Then you’re gonna get me,” he replied playfully, shifting his weight and joining me on the bed, his body pressing against mine.
There was something incredibly liberating about our closeness. I felt a mixture of exhilaration and urgency as he maneuvered us into the right position, the playful glint in his eye making my heart race even more.
“Are you ready?” he asked, the hint of vulnerability mixed with eagerness brightly shining through his words.
“Yes,” I breathed, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer. “Just… just kiss me, please.”
He smiled against my lips and then kissed me deeply, the connection between us growing sharper with every beat of our hearts. It was a kiss filled with everything we hadn’t said before—the longing, the frustration, and now a promise of passion.
With a swift motion, our bodies intertwined, and I gasped as he filled me completely. The world shifted around us, and all I could focus on was the way our bodies melded together, driven by a shared heat that exploded into an undeniable rhythm.
He set a pace that was both passionate and sweet, losing himself in the sensations we created together. Each thrust was met with little gasps and soft moans, building toward a crescendo that I felt reverberate through every part of me.
“Just like that,” I urged, drawing him in closer. “Don’t stop.”
He smiled, his breath quickening. “I could get used to this,” he remarked, a teasing tone creeping into his voice as he continued to move within me, his warmth enveloping me entirely.
Moments turned into minutes, and as our bodies moved together, the world outside faded into insignificance. We became lost in one another, two souls finally finding their way back to the connection we’d lost for so long.
Our breaths intertwined, punctuated by the occasional laugh or whisper. I felt free, liberated in a way I never expected. It was raw and passionate, the way we connected driving us both to heights we hadn’t thought possible.
Finally, we reached that sweet climax together, the world around us blurring into a haze of pleasure and warmth. I could feel the electric spark of ecstasy wash over me as we both collapsed against each other, panting and blissfully spent.
After a few moments, I felt Dave's arms wrap around me, pulling me close. I smiled at the warmth that radiated through us, content with the closeness after the fire we’d just shared.
“I can’t believe we finally did that,” he chuckled softly, a goofy grin spreading across his face.
I laughed, burying my head against his chest, reveling in the way my body molded against his, feeling utterly safe and happy. “Me neither! I thought I’d have to throw you a laundry list of reasons for a while.”
“Well, you definitely sold me on it,” he said, a playful glimmer in his eye. “And I’m glad I took the plunge.”
“Just remember that I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” I teased, looking up at him. “No closing off anymore, okay?”
“I promise,” he replied earnestly, leaning down to kiss the top of my head before settling in against me, his warmth soothing. I could feel the tension of the past beginning to melt away, replaced by a sense of genuine comfort.
As we lay there, I felt him relax, his breath evening out as he nuzzled closer. There was something amusingly endearing about how he somewhat resembled a large, sleepy cat curled against me, his large frame contrasting with the gentle intimacy we shared.
“Are you laughing at me?” he muttered, half-asleep.
“Maybe,” I smirked, running my fingers through his hair. “You just look so adorable like this.”
“Adorable?” he repeated, the teasing tone back in his voice, even beneath the haze of sleep. “I’m a legendary rock star.”
I chuckled, the sound escaping my lips like a breath of pure joy. “And now you’re my legendary rock star, who is also a little spoon.”
“Little spoon?” he echoed, opening one eye to look at me incredulously. “You’re not supposed to tell anyone that!”
With a laugh, I tightened my hold around him. “Oh, it’s too late for that! I’ll spread the word: the great Dave Mustaine loves being the little spoon—”
“That’s it!” he interrupted, mock indignation clear in his voice. “You better watch out; I’m going to need to redeem my rockstar reputation.”
“And how do you plan to do that?” I asked, leaning closer, fully embracing the lighthearted banter.
But he didn’t reply. Instead, his breath deepened as he settled in, and I could feel him drifting off to sleep. I couldn’t help but smile, pulling him closer as I realized how far we had come—from distant friends caught in turmoil to two souls finding solace in each other.
There was something undeniably sweet about moments like these, and I felt secure in the knowledge that this was just the beginning of our new chapter—a chapter filled with laughter, warmth, and maybe a little bit of mischief.
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peachsayshi · 3 months ago
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About brutally soft reader x SUKUNA
I love how you write their dynamic with eachother and their daughter, especially the feelings she has towards SUKUNA and the small jealousy she feels just thinking about him and other women.
But I’ve got some thoughts
I understand her seeing the good in him and him being a great father but a great father isn’t always a great partner. He might have cleaned his mess up as far as she knows, we the readers of course know more.
You gave us some look into their past relationship and how toxic they were to eachother.
While people should stay in the present and look towards the future, her past shaped her. Does she trust him fully? Are there other feelings like resentment and anger she sometimes feels towards him, especially as she realizes how her daughter is growing up without two parents in the same house and how it will impact her?
While she loves her daughter, won’t she still have some anger towards him for having to take care of her all the time and work, while he has so much freedom?
Does she feel guilty for still liking him?
Does she have recurring nightmares or flashbacks as soon as she sees or talks about cheating? Does she see his cheating partner sometimes in the city and does she get that gut wrenching feeling.
There are a lot of questions I have regarding her character.
While you show the positive side of their co parenting I would love to see the negative aspects. How it impacted her her future (unexpected pregnancy), other relationships she had(parents, friends…), relationships with other men after sukuna?
How she sees her daughter, does her daughter miss him a lot or does she see a lot of sukuna in her daughter? Does reader still have some kind abandonment issues or trust issues with other people in her life because of the relationship?
Is it maybe the other relationship that seems to be on and off, that makes her yearn for sukuna who is not only her baby daddy but seems to be stable in life?
I hope it does not come off as aggressive or rude but I am really interested to see her have some female rage and anger she will express toward sukuna.
nonnie!! please don't ever apologize!! as a writer I live for these kind of questions!! I am just an awe that you that this fic made you this interested like I am truly beyond flattered. okay, okay let's break it down: "a great father isn't always a great partner" is the basis of what this story is about. regarding your question on trust, I will say that the reader does not trust him - he had to repair that trust himself. and it took him years to do it. the fact that he cheated on her isn't a small thing (to either the reader or sukuna). he lives with that mistake and the reader lives with that hurt. in one of my previous posts about them, I mention how all of this changed when sukuna found out you were pregnant. the thing is, he grew up with shitty parents. he wasn't about to turn into one himself. I don't think she resents him as much. because she truly didn't even think that he would step up to the plate and be an actual father to his child. she only revealed her pregnancy out of moral obligation, but she was clear that she doesn't expect him to be involved. the fact that sukuna is putting in the effort is more of a surprise to the reader herself.
now regarding the freedom thing, I definitely think that's more of a choice on the reader's part. sukuna wants more team, but our reader keeps the boundaries for a reason. let's not forget that she knew and loved sukuna at his worst. saw how irresponsible he could be. saw how selfish some of his actions were. I think a small part of her believes that if she isn't too cautious, he might slip up. that's the reader taking control of a situation that she cannot predict. I don't think she feels guilty for liking sukuna, I think she's scared that those feelings are still there. how could she still want someone who hurt her in that way? how could she think it would be safe to go back to him? that's what I was really trying to portray in the updated part of their little story. without giving away too much of the story, she definitely does bring it up in conversation with sukuna and it's an extremely sore point for both of them. it's the only time she sees how small he looks in her eyes. he carries so much shame with that mistake, with that woman...
oh there definitely will be some insight on the negative aspects - but it will be framed in a way to show sukuna's growth. the point is to highlight his redemption journey, rather than him being a shitty guy. however, that past still exists in both his and the reader's memory. and regarding abandonment and trust issues: they both definitely deal with it in their own way. in this particular case, it's sukuna who gave did it to her. his parents did it him.
I briefly talk about sukuna's childhood, and how compared to his brother yuji he had to witness his parents because a healthy, loving couple towards his younger brother. sukuna never got any of that. and it kills him that the same abandonment and trust issues they gave him, he just off loaded onto you with his own shitty mistakes.
sukuna's daughter is so much like him in so many ways. you can definitely see that but you believe she got the best parts of sukuna rather than the worst. and he only wants to show her the good, not the bad.
I hop this answers some of your questions! I really can't wait to explore more parts of these two - and see how their dynamic unfolds. I think as of now, sukuna simply resigns in his role as being your baby daddy and nothing else. he really wants to show you that you can rely on him, but it just isn't that easy for the reader to give in to him like she used to.
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mjrtaurus · 7 months ago
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Monkey D Urpi headcanons (source: Oda shared it with me in a dream)
- She’s gotta be atleast 6 or 7 feet tall for logistic reasons yes but also because Tall Women ❤️
- Idrk how face claims work but I imagine her to look something like Simone Ashley
- As all other members of the Monkey family do, she’s got a scar on the left side of her face
- A tattoo that wraps around her wrist, almost like a bracelet
- Her and Garp are 2-3 years apart in age (they’re beating the weird age gap grandparents allegations fr)
- Hips length hair. At least 25% of Garp's paycheck gets put into hair care, hair ties, combs/brushes and lint rollers, he'd never ask his family to change but god does it get EVERYWHERE.
- She was the one to make the first move officially (had asked Garp to accompany to a cafe she had gotten a flyer to, face turned away to hide the flush settling on.)
- Big reader, mostly on the varying plants and ecosystems of the different islands on the Grandline and occasionally dips into the mythology of the Blue Sea (just to see what else they got wrong)
- Do not bring up Noland the Liar around her, whatever’s in her hand will shatter and she’ll begin to mutter very quickly under her breathe
- Skilled fighter but actively hates having to fight. It’s less about being scared for and more perpetuating a cycle, violence will only bred more violence. It has its uses but she’d rather not use it at all
- Garp made the mistake of asking her to join the Marines exactly once. The look she gave him was so venomous the topic of enlisting wasn’t brought up again until Dragon was born.
- Has possessed Mantra/Observation Haki from incredibly an early age and developed Armament Haki through training with Garp
- Instantly goes into mother mode around younger people. Physically cannot help it. She just has to dote on them. Definitely takes it up a notch when she’s grandmother age
- Would certainly approve of the ASL's dreams of being pirates/revolutionaries. Who is she to stand in the way of their search for Freedom?
- She and Crocodile get along swimmingly! They discuss mushroom foraging and she shows him all the best for it on Elbaf!
- Consistently refers to Kuzan as her ‘second born’ before someone (usually Sengoku) reminds her that she did not in fact birth him. She would agree and then do the same thing the very next day.
- Big fan of the newspaper since it keeps her up to date on the happenings of her family. Keeps all issues they are mentioned in pristine condition and chronological order.
- Gets intense waves of guilt for ‘leaving her people behind’ and would often wonder if she deserves that happiness she found here.
- Has no inherent ill feelings towards Gan Fall anymore but definitely didn’t like him back then. She’s still a little taken aback when Luffy mentions what a help he was during his time in Skypiea
- Is relentless in her pride of Dragon and everything he has accomplished. She had watched him grow from a sweet little boy who cried when a Den Den Mushi had to be decommissioned to a man who was out to save the world. He is her every wildest wish come true.
Taking down these notes because I might just have to put her on a canvas at some point.
Some additions I would also like to add!
- her surprising proficiency for Mantra/Observation Haki was inherited by Dragon, and she helped him train it.
- When Dragon found her on Elbaf (and let’s say after the WG falls to hell where it belongs) he makes time to take her and Garp to Shandora to hear the Bell that their grandson reclaimed.
- While up there, she reunites with her little sister Nina, and meets her grandnephew Wyper.
- she always had mixed feelings about Dragon joining the marines, but she understood his heart was in the right place. Shame the rest of the Navy couldn’t say the same.
- Dragon’s desertion was a hard time for everyone, but they all knew it was inevitable. Her boy would climb higher and higher in the ranks, and his eyes would have less and less of their warmth. By the time he attained the rank of Admiral, there was hardly anything of her sweet, gentle soul of a son left. It tore her and Garp’s heart to shreds.
- Dragon’s desertion was a planned thing. He had been stationed at Ohara to oversee an expedition, and he had seen the archaeologists be given bounties for the sin of doing their job. He showed up on his parent’s doorstep in the dead of night to tell them he was going to have to be on the run from now on. Urpi gave him her earrings. They are the only thing she had left that had survived her fall from Skypiea and her journey across the seas. They would go with him now on his journey.
- The bounty posters that had been released of Nico Robin following Ohara’s destruction gave her pause. Dragon had mentioned working with a Nico Olvia during this expedition, this child certainly looked like her mother if you looked at the bounty posters side by side but… her complexion, the coloration of her hair… a quick tally of the dates and she can’t help but wonder if she inherited her father’s wings, too.
- when she saw Dragon again after so long, she hugged his neck. His eyes were warm again. He had his hope again. It was tempered with Nika knew how many trials, but he was still the loving little boy with the downy wings that she sang to sleep every night so many years ago…
- she was intrigued by Crocodile. She had heard these “devil fruits” could do wonderful things, but to change a body to match the soul within it… it was incredible. To know her son had helped set this man on that path to change made her wings fluff up with pride. She wishes she could have met Olvia, too.
- after coming to Elbaf, she NEVER covers her wings. She cuts holes in the backs of her clothes for them to fit through, sews clothes using patterns and stitches she knows by heart… as much as she lover Garp, Goa had been stifling. Upon seeing the cuts and mends in the backs of Dragons shirts when he visits, she can tell he suffered the same.
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commander-rahrah · 2 years ago
Text
Talking to the Moon: Part III
Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader
Word Count: ~4450
archiveofourown: here
masterlist: here
part I: here part II: here
Summary: Set in Act II in Moonrise Towers, after meeting Ketharic and Araj the first time; Astarion finally comes to terms with his feelings for you, and takes a chance.
Notes: I love elements of both versions of Astarion’s confession scene, so I decided to combine them and add a little extra to them too! There is some dialogue borrowed from the game from Astarion's actual confession, but I added a lot more into it, especially with Tav/Reader's responses.
I love this pairing so very much. I know it is very soft, but I just think Astarion deserves someone soft and gentle and patient with him.
Thank you for reading and interacting! It means so much to me ♡♡♡
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Bile was rising in Astarion’s throat. The scent of the room, the things that drow was doing to those vials of blood. It was wrong, all wrong. He thought he was a monster for the curse bestowed upon him. But whatever experiments were being conducted, they were monstrous in a completely different sense. His entire being had screamed at him to flee when she had turned her violet eyes onto him. He hated that she even knew his name. He wanted to get as far away from this miserable tower as possible. To go find the stupid artifact for themselves and never return. And the drow was still trying to convince him. Gods, he wished she would just give up. Maybe if he just gave in — it would be only a moment, and then it would be over. His body would still cringe as he remembered it, but he could just add it to the list. But then he glanced to you. You had shown him, the other night, the power of listening to yourself. Of stopping. Of saying no. Really, you had been teaching him that over and over during your little adventures together. When he first realized his new found freedom, all he could focus on was being away from Cazador. Being away from his looming, threatening presence — the pain, the anguish. What he didn’t realize was that freedom came with something else. Autonomy. A choice. Astarion had been making many of them, every day for weeks and he hadn’t realized. Sometimes they were tiny, insignificant decisions. And sometimes they were remarkable… or foolish. But they were his and his alone. And he felt like he could make them. That he wouldn’t be punished or gutted by the group. Betrayed or humiliated for it. And that was because of you.
When Astarion had decided to seduce you he had done it for his protection. He had seen your abilities and power those first few days and realized the threat you could pose to his master. He had done it to ensure you would be on his side, always — that you would never turn on him. What he hadn’t expected was how your protection would really feel, what it would entail. He knew he had your blade and powers now — just as you had his. But what you had given him was so much more than just your abilities. It was sanctuary. He felt shielded, secure. He could let his guard down, he had let his guard down with you. He could make decisions and mistakes and grow… Feel what he wanted, think what he wanted. So as he stared at you, his mind resolved. His red eyes narrowed as he gave his attention to the drow one final time, “I gave you my answer.” She scoffed, “Your control over your spawn has lapsed. Order him to do this, you will not regret it.” The alchemist spat at you, her arms crossed with irritation from his rejection. Even just the word spawn made the hairs on the back of his arms raise. And she thought you were his master. He knew exactly what Cazador would do if he were here. A bleak thought tried to surface in his head, but he forced it away. No, you weren’t like Cazador.
He trusted you. Your nostrils flared as you snapped your head to the mad alchemist, “He is his own person. And he gave you his answer.” “If you would just—“ “No,” You growled, stepping forward with your lips in a snarl. “He said no.” The group blinked at you — you had never been so short with anyone. You were usually flowery and lighthearted even when were outright rejecting someone. Even when someone had a blade pointed to your chest, you were at least civil. They had never seen you like this. Astarion’s red eyes flickered across you face, you seemed just as upset as he did. He could hear your heart thundering, your blood boiling. “Stay away from him.” Your tone was final, your jaw set. “I’ve had enough of this wretched place. Let’s get out of here.” You huffed, turning on your heel and marching out of the tower. Astarion trailed behind you and the rest of the group, studying you carefully. You were vibrating. He couldn’t recall ever seeing you this mad. He almost expected you to go into a rage like Karlach did. He knew you would often put on a mask — one that said everything was fine, everyone was good. You used it because you wanted to be a good leader, because you so often wanted to see the best in the world. He had seen it slip up before, had seen you remove it just for him. But this anger was something entirely new. And it was on his behalf? Astarion grasped that in defending him, not only had you revealed something about yourself, you had made him feel something he had not known in hundreds of years. Respected. Safe. Alive. Not a pawn or tool. A person. He realized that you were both just two people. And that one of you (and maybe if the gods were kind), both of you… stupidly cared for one another. 
Fallen for the other. His plan had gone out the window much sooner than he wanted to admit to himself. He hadn’t been performing with you for quite some time. No, he had not been your plaything or object of desire. He had been… himself. A version of himself he had never known he could be. And the final step was to relinquish the thing he was harboring — control. To show you what he truly has to offer. To put his faith in you. And trust that in turn you would listen, and understand. And not immediately stake him through the heart. A thousand scenarios of how his confession would go began to swirl in his head. But his shoulders lifted as you all left the oppressive atmosphere inside. Even the doom and gloom of the Shadlowlands was appreciated over the dark energy swirling in Moonrise Towers. “Well, that was not what I’d expected.” Gale broke the silence first as the party finished crossing the bridge away from the imposing tower. You were about to begin the trek back to your camp. “Ketheric is…” “An abomination.” Lae’zel interjected, her teeth barred slightly as she spoke. Shadowheart let out a loud breath from her nose, “Agreed.” “Everyone in that place is vile.” Wyll grimaced as he looked over his shoulder, “That alchemist…” He glanced over to Astarion, worry plastered over his face. Though the vampire was sure it was for his missing father more than anything, not for him. “She was a little obsessive. But can you blame her?” Astarion put on his usual snark, letting out his fake laugh as he gestured at himself. “It wasn’t obsessive, it was disgusting.” Your voice was low — your distaste was clear. “She didn’t treat you as a person, only an object of her desire.” “She isn’t the first.“ He gave you a sad smile, before quirking his white eyebrows. “Well, she will be the last. And how dare she look to me, to try and get me to what—leash you? Control you? How dare she think of me as your master—“ “Darling,” Astarion grabbed onto your elbow, halting your rant and your movement. “You aren’t Cazador, trust me.” No, Cazador would have leapt at the opportunity. Not even for the potion. The sadistic bastard would make him do it just to get off on his humiliation. You were as opposite of Cazador as there could possibly be. The furrow in your brow softened, before you nodded your head. The pair of you looked around to realize you had stopped in the middle of the pathway, the rest of the party halted as well, watching your interaction. Realizing the sudden attention you cleared your throat, a blush creeping across your cheeks as you turned your attention back to the group. “Well, I think it’s best we get back to camp to strategize, right?” “Right.” Wyll nodded at you with a knowing smile, before you and the warlock started to lead the group again. Astarion’s red eyes trailed after you, a soft look tugging at his features.  “You’re looking a little smitten lately, Fangs.” Karlach poked him in the ribs as she walked by, “Don’t worry, they look at you like that too.” She said over her shoulder, before taking extra long steps to catch up with you.
He fought the smile that stretched his lips, before trailing after you. 
• • •
Astarion knew he was being anything but subtle as he sat across the campfire from you. His red eyes continually found their way to your figure throughout the evening. The different scenarios he had been imagining in his head were still swirling, consuming his every thought. When he told you his intended plan, but how he had fallen for you instead — how would you react? What if he told you and you laughed? Or screamed? Or attacked? His mind was a cruel, treacherous thing he realized. But his half-dead heart still thumped with the same tune of... hope. What if you had fallen too? Your laughter snapped him back to the present, the joyous sound something he had missed hearing lately. The shadowlands did not leave much time or room for happiness and lighthearted moments. But this evening seemed to be an exception. Gale continued his story, some tale of his about being a foolish boy with much too much time and magic on his hands. The group was hovering and sitting nearby as they listened. Even Shadowheart had joined, a small smile playing at the edges of her lips as she listened with Karlach’s arm slung behind her waist. “The hubris of wizards.” Lae’zel sneered with a roll of her eyes. “I do not understand how you have made it this far in life, istik.” “Dumb luck?” Wyll joked as he ruffled Gale’s brown hair. “Har har," The wizard rolled his eyes, before raising his finger in counterpoint, "But to be fair, the spell was transcribed improperly—" The group groaned collectively, but it was Karlach who spoke up, “Nooooooo, no more talk of proper etiquette and techniques. You’re the only one who cares for it!” He slumped, “Ugh, I miss Tara. She and I would have the most heated debates about proper techniques…” You placed an arm around his shoulders and gave him a half hug. “She is a much better companion than we are then.” You grinned at him, before finishing the last of your meal and placing the empty dish on your lap.
Envy coursed through Astarion at your casual touch with Gale. He wished... He wished he could touch that easily. Be touched that easily, so casually. Without a second thought. 
“Are you done?” Shadowheart stood above you, with her small hand outstretched and gesturing to the empty dish in your lap.
“I— oh, yes,” You stumbled over your words before you held it out for her. She grabbed it gently, and you let out quiet words of gratitude.  The cleric bowed her head bashfully, before grabbing the other dishes and heading to the river to wash up. Shock went through your face, your eyes shining bright and hopeful. It was the most interaction you’d had all week — and it had been soft and gentle. Remorseful, even. Karlach caught your eye and gave you a small smile — nodding her head in reassurance at you. 
Eventually, the tell-tale signs of the camp beginning to wind down for the night started. Gale grabbed a glass of wine and his spellbook, before excusing himself to his makeshift desk near his tent. Wyll and Karlach were now playing cards, chuckling softly between hushed stories. Lae'zel had excused herself for an early night, and Shadowheart remained at the fire pouring over a book she had picked up today. You were kneeling in front of your tent, searching through your pack for something. 
The vampire glanced around once more — if he didn't do it now, he didn't know when he would build up the courage to do it again. Standing up, he nervously picked at the sides of his leather pants as he tread closer to your tent. He made purposeful steps as he approached, alerting you of his presence. 
"Astarion, hi." You sounded breathless as you stood up quickly, abandoning your belongings on the ground. 
“Walk with me?” He quirked his eyebrow, his hands still twitching apprehensively at his side.  “Sure,” You said with an easy smile, falling into step by his side as he brought you towards the sandy bed near the river. The sounds and sights of the camp began to get quieter and quieter as you walked away.
You both took in the sights around you, the dim evening light revealing the dark water that was flowing slowly and a quiet breeze that didn't snare in any of the bare branches. “Even with the curse — this place can be quite beautiful sometimes.” His red eyes glanced around before settling back on you, “You think so?”
"I do."
He thought that spoke more about you, then it did about the Shadowlands. Seeing the beauty in somewhere like this, was a reflection of your own. You made him believe that some good and beauty could really be found in such darkness. Clearing his throat, he spoke with his fingers twirling behind his back, “I brought you out here because… I think we need to talk.” You cocked your head, “About what?” “I— I, uh…," His steps stopped, then yours. "I want to thank you.” “For?” He turned to face you, “For what you said while I was in front of that vile drow. I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my master. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing, it never mattered. You could have asked me to do the same — to throw myself at her, what I wanted be damned. But you didn’t. And I’m grateful.” You winced, “I would never — You should never have to do something you don’t want to." “It’s a novel concept, I admit." He gave you a sad smile, "And a little intimidating… it would have been so easy to do it. Just to go along with what I was being told to do. A moment of disgust to force myself through. And then I could have carried on, just like before…” 
But things were different now.
“That would’ve been wrong. How she treated you, how he treated you is wrong.”
"I know. I know that now. The entire reason for my existence was to seduce anything with a pulse. And every instinct I have tells me that nothing’s changed. That I’m still just a means to an end... But you made me see that I never stopped thinking like I was still his slave, even in freedom. But I’m more than that. More than a thing to be used.” The vampire stood up a little taller, his chin lifting. 
"You are so much more, Astarion. You deserve so much more.” His mouth twitched as he tried to force down the swell of emotion climbing up his stomach and into his throat. “Are you all right?” “Oh yes, I’m fine. I just — feel awful." His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes glancing down to his boots. "Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan — seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me. It was easy — instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in." He finally looked up at your face, studying intensely for your reaction. 
"All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do was not fall for you… which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart. You… you’re incredible.”  Your eyebrows raised on your face as you stepped a little closer, “Astarion… what are you saying?” “I'm saying... That I’ve fallen for you.” He finally admitted. 
A look of astonishment crossed your face, before your lips pulled into the most beautiful smile he had even seen. If you were about to stake him — at least it would be a sweet death.
“And I you.” You whispered back. His mind went berserk, the thudding in his ears amplifying even more. “You — you have?” He sputtered.  “Absolutely. Astarion, you are wonderful, you are… My parents paid for some of the best tutors you can find on this continent, and I still can’t think of the words to describe you.” 
You both let out breathy nervous laughs, both of your eyes darting across the other's features with grins on your face.
The corners of his mouth turned down as he got serious, his voice thick with emotion. “You deserve something real. I want us to be something real.” “So do I. More than anything.” You admitted, your eyes sparkling with hope and maybe something a little more.  “I just don’t know what real looks like. Not after two hundred years playing the rake. Being close to someone — any kind of intimacy— was something I performed to lure people back for him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing. I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to.”
Because he did want to. There had been moments with you that had brought him such unexpected bliss, touch and pleasure more euphoric then anything he could have imagined. And he wanted to experience that again with you, all of it with you. But he wanted to experience it without it being marred from his past.  “I care about you — deeply. For longer then I should admit… My feelings for you have been about more than sex and attraction for quite some time now.” He knew what you were saying was the truth. He’d seen the look on your face in the Last Light Inn — the hurt and pain etched into it when you thought he only saw you for sex. That in the last few weeks you too, had been stepping away from the physical — and yet, you still spoke to him, protected him, cared for him. 
But he couldn't stop the little voice in the back of his mind. "Really? You're sure?"
"I've never been more sure. May I hug you?” You asked carefully, your brows furrowed ever so slightly. 
Uncertainty flooded through him. No one had asked his permission like this before. No one had offered affection without some end in sight. But he remembered your previous soft touches, and noticed how cautious you were being now. He nodded his head, convinced. He awkwardly moved his arms out, unsure of how to do this. 
You wrapped your arms around him slowly, giving him ample time to change his mind or pull away. He felt your fingers bunch the material on the back of his shirt, tugging at it gently. Your scent filled his nostrils, your warmth seeping into his cold body. No one had very touched him like this, comforted him like this. He choked back the sob that almost escaped him, his mouth puckering before he wrapped his own arms around you — burying his head into the side of your neck and pushing into you more. 
Astarion wasn’t sure how long you stood there like that — but he didn’t really care. He hadn't realized how long he had yearned for this, for you.
It took every fiber of his being to pull away from you, but he caught your hand before you could fully pull away. "Honestly, I have no idea what we're doing... or what comes next." He placed his other hand on top of yours, enveloping them with what he hoped was a tender touch. "But I know that this? This is nice." 
You gave him another life-changing smile, “It is. Isn’t it?” 
He couldn't stop himself from matching your expression, “Gods, I feel so foolish — I don’t know how to do this, to be romantic or anything without—“ 
You interrupted him softly, “We will learn together. And take our time doing so.”
“Ugh, why do you have to be so patient and kind? It makes me like you even more.” He said exasperatedly, staring at your now intertwined fingers. 
You looked up to the now inky black sky, “It’s getting late,”
He chewed the inside of his cheek, “I don’t want to turn in yet. I just got you to myself…” 
“There will be more nights, I promise.” You assured him.
His eyebrows rose as he had an idea, but the worry of rejection flooded through him, “Would you, if you wanted, you can say no—“
“Starry.” You gave him a reassuring nod, your eyes telling him to speak up for himself.  
“Stay with me tonight?” He asked in a hushed tone. 
You quirked your lips, “Perhaps you need more time before we share a tent — even just to sleep. I do not want to rush you.” 
“I—I must admit I quite enjoyed having you next to me while we just slept at the inn." He confessed. 
“You would be comfortable with that?” 
He nodded, “Yes, I believe so.” 
“And if you change your mind?” 
“I will tell you. I promise.” 
“As you wish, love.” You squeezed his fingers once more, before beginning to lead him back towards the camp. 
He stumbled behind you for a moment, slightly dazed. 
Love. The name made his heart swoon and flutter. Gods, his name on your lips had made him come alive again, but that single word made him feel like he was the only person in the world. 
• • •
Thankfully the rest of the party had retired to their tents by the time you two returned. The campfire snuffed out, and supplies tucked away. Scratch had lifted his head from his watch on a rock as you approached, but settled quickly as he saw who it was. 
You had changed in your own tent, insisting on that boundary until more time had passed. You had been shivering in your nightclothes as you slipped into his tent and immediately hid under one of his blankets. Astarion had chuckled before joining you, leaving a respectable amount of space between you. A comfortable amount for him, as you insisted. 
He couldn't help but look at you laying next to him. When he had laid next to you in the inn he had to force himself to look away, but he allowed himself to now. Your face and hair glowed in the soft light of the few candles he had kept lit. His eyes focused on your lips as you licked them before speaking. 
“You are much braver than I am.” You whispered, keeping your voice low so as not to wake your sleeping companions. 
The vampire scoffed, “Me? Brave? Darling, don’t make me laugh. I made Karlach wear me like a backpack today to cross over vines.” “To say what you did tonight first… I had been trying to work up the courage but I… I think I care about you so much it just terrified me.” 
He had seen you stand up to cambions, run through burning buildings. But that is what terrified you? “Why?” Your brow instantly furrowed, your eyes flashing down. “I… I never thought you would reciprocate. I was happy to take whatever scraps you gave me because I just assumed… I’ve been told I’m hard to love most of my life. Too loud, too much.”  “I could never have enough of you.” The words left Astarion’s lips without a second thought. Instant tears formed in your eyes, turning them silver in the glowing candle light. You clutched your chest for a moment, before brushing the tears away, “Oh, you can’t just say things like that.”  “Even if they are true?” He asked, tilting his head.  
“Astarion… I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” 
He scoffed, "If anyone should be asking that it’s me.”
You shook your head at his intended self-deprecation, before settling onto the bedroll as you prepared yourself to sleep.
He watched your eyes flutter open and closed for a few times, before he spoke again quietly. “Would you tell me one of the things?” 
“Hmmm?” You asked with a hum, your eyes still closed as you rolled slightly closer to hear him.  “A few weeks ago you— you said that you wished I could see myself the way you do… How do you see me?”
Though he was overjoyed with you reciprocating his feelings, he couldn’t help but be bewildered by them. Why him? Out of all the people you had met and befriended, why in the hells had you picked him? He was violent, arrogant, traumatized… 
Your expression softened as you opened your eyes, a happy sound escaping you as you thought. “I love the way you act when you think no one is looking.” He blinked. “What ever do you mean?” “Oh, when you hum around camp when doing chores or… oh, that cat at the inn. You were so delighted, petting that the little thing.” You smiled at the memory, “Everyone is afraid of being perceived, I know. And with the walls you built around yourself… it is such a lovely sight to see when you let them down for a moment.”
He stared at you in disbelief. You had been seeing him for longer than he realized.
He whispered your name, before choking out. ”I— Thank you.” 
You looked over at him like he was the stars in the sky. “Goodnight Astarion.” You said sleepily, your eyes fluttering closed as you began to doze off.  “Sweet dreams, darling.” He rolled over onto his back, his eyes moving from your form to close and see you in his dreams instead. A smile tugged on his lips as he fell into his trance. 
And so began the nights of you joining him in his slumber. 
Even just laying next to him, your presence was a gift. Blanketing him with safety and companionship — granting him a peace he had never known. 
The deepest intimacy he had ever experienced. And he wasn’t afraid of it. It wasn’t painful. 
And perhaps that is why the moon came up every night — so that the stars did not feel so alone. 
Part IV
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erictmason · 8 months ago
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“BOUND FOR FREEDOM, YEAR SIX, DAY SEVEN: “Transformation”
“An Unexpected Transformation”
“SALLY!”
Sonic cried out as loud as he could against the thundering storm, racing through the swampy forest with desperate speed.  The dark skies made it difficult to see, and the thick gnarled trees left him little room to navigate.  Yet he continued to run all the same.
“SALLY, COME BACK!”
He could still see her looking at him with such fear in her eyes…could still hear her ordering him to leave her behind.  The strange blackened veins running along her body…the weakness of her breath…the cold weight of not knowing what was happening to her even as they both feared they knew the answer.  And when the hedgehog had refused her order, the princess had used what remained of her strength to knock him down and run off into the depths of the forest.
“SAL, PLEASE!”
It was foolish to give chase, even by Sonic’s standards.  He had no real clue where Sally was by this point, and the rain from the storm was only making the forest harder and harder to move through.  Yet he couldn’t just…leave her.  Even if…even if she was already…!
That grim thought was swallowed up as Sonic suddenly found his momentum stopped cold; something had caught his feet!  Lurching forward, the hedgehog’s eyes widened as he saw the familiar sickly green-brown of Mega Muck all around his ankles, barely able to twist his body around in time to prevent himself from landing face first in the stuff.  That still meant, however, that his arms and the back of his head found themselves caught in stretchy slimy strands of it, leaving him thoroughly trapped.   
Then a terrifying roar filled the air, piercing through even the thunder.
Sonic grit his teeth, struggling with all his might to break free of the muck.  He knew that sound very well by now, after he and Sally had tried so hard to run from it.  They had only barely managed to keep one step ahead of it…until now.  The muck held fast despite Sonic’s best efforts, however, and so he could only watch as several nearby tries began to tremble and crack…as the sound of a low growl drew closer and closer…until a towering figure emerged from the darkness.
It had the broad, muscled body and fierce mane-crowned head of a lion, but it stood taller than any Mobian Sonic had ever seen; bat-like wings spread from its back, a scorpion’s tail curled behind at the rear.  Its eyes had an eerie ember-like glow to them, and soon they became fixed on the hedgehog.  With a growl, it bore its considerable fangs at him, slowly but sinisterly stalking towards the muck-pit where Sonic remained trapped.  “Gotta get free!” his mind screamed at him.  “Gotta find Sal!”
 The beast raised its sizeable paw into the air, claws gleaming against the lightning that flashed behind it.
Yet just as it was about to strike, a new roar echoed out.  Sonic’s ears perked up; it seemed impossible, and yet all he could think of was, “That…that almost sounds like…!”
From out of the forest, a sharp form cut through the air, tackling into the lion-beast with the strength and speed of a bullet.  Even low to the ground as he was, it was impossible for Sonic to mistake what he saw: Sally, flying through the air on leather wings.
Her eyes burned with the same eerie glow as the beast’s, her knees and elbows were now accentuated by sharp barbs that seemed to grow out of her body, and her chipmunk-tail had been replaced with a longer reptilian one.  With speed and ferocity, she attacked her beastly adversary.  Biting, clawing, pulling, pushing...even though she was far smaller than her opponent, her attacks were fearless and relentless. 
The beast would not yield easily, however.  Even as Sally scrambled across its body to avoid being grabbed in its claws, it thrashed and stomped about, rattling her fiercely.  It gave the beast chances to scrape and slash at her, even as she managed to keep avoiding its grasp.  “You’ve got this, Sal!” Sonic shouted up, even as he continued to try and free himself.  “Wipe the Muck with this creep!”
He could not tell if Sally heard him, or if she could even still understand him.  But he had to smile as he watched her assault continue, slowly but surely forcing the beast to back away from him.  That did make it harder for the hedgehog to make out how things were progressing, however, and he felt a cold surge of fear as both Sally and her enemy let out howling roars again.  “Who’s crying out in pain, and who’s crying out ‘cuz they won?” he wondered anxiously.
An answer came when the beast sank to its knees, and then collapsed entirely. 
Sally stood over its fallen form, wings spreading out just a bit further as if taking in her victory.  She briefly shook herself off before turning her attention back to Sonic, slowly approaching him and kneeling at his side.
“Hey Sal,” Sonic said softly as the squirrel leaned closer.
She sniffed at him, ears flickering and eyes slowly moving over Sonic’s prone form.  Her clawed hands reached out to him, taking sharp grip.  Then, with a yank, she pulled him free of the muck.  “How’re you…feelin’?” Sonic asked, tentatively reaching out to her.
The squirrel stepped back, however, her ears and wings both folding down.  “…oh…” Sonic whispered, his own ears drooping a bit.
They looked at each other uncertainly for a few moments.  Then, crouching down to all fours, the squirrel darted back off into the forest.
This time, Sonic did not chase after her.    
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groovygianniart · 6 months ago
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Pretty sloppy refsheet since I haven't made a proper one in a while (don't think I ever did for any past fursonas/furry oc's.).
Bitter-Berry was born into the world sometime in the mid-90's to a white-tailed deer mother and a timber wolf father. His mother named him "Juniper" and raised him away from his father, and while growing up, she demonized every aspects of wolves and any predator type species. B.B was raised to fear wolves and suppress his urges which did not mix well with his own deer instincts.
Growing up, B.B had issues making and keeping friends, if he wasn't quietly keeping to himself he was lashing out, which lead to him becoming isolated.
The wolf instincts became worse as a teenager (raging hormones and all that) and he completely lost himself when he attacked and killed a fellow deer. He couldn't help but to eat the corpse when he took them down. He was ousted from the herd and his mother fully disowned him.
Lost and isolated, he met a human woodsman, who took him in after convincing him he was special and they'd make something great together. B.B became the man's "hunting dog" which satisfied his predator urges and gave him a sense of usefulness and belonging.
This seemingly nice setup didn't last long, after a few years, his domestication training turned into full on torture, the woodsman revealed himself to be some type of sorcerer. He would preform torturous rituals on B.B, making him experience death and resurrection.
The only thing that was a silver lining for Bitter-Berry was the fact the more the woodsman used his magic, it would slowly kill him, though it took B.B awhile to realize it would be an open door to escape. He endured this for a full decade until the woodsman became too weak to overpower B.B and eventually die.
Now Bitter-Berry spends his newfound freedom seeing the limits of his supposed immortality and regenerative abilities. He may be a danger to others but he's not invincible, he can still be knocked down and he's pretty weak overall.
He's not sure if he can live a normal life after everything, but at least there's some things that make him happy; like weed, energy drinks, video games and doing art...and other earthly delights.
Extra notes:
B.B has autism and low self esteem, as the years went on his anxiety got worse and he got major depression along with the trauma.
He discovered he was trans near the end of his time stuck with the woodsman.
His antlers started growing after one of the last rituals he was subjected to, it was a mistake by the woodsman but he decided he can take the antlers for whatever he wanted.
B.B can appear in feral, toony and anthro whenever the mood calls for it.
Because of his shifting forms, his legs in anthro mode are mostly digitigrade but can also be plantigrade depending.
Got top surgery at some point but the scars can appear or disappear depending on how the regeneration process is.
B.B chose the name "Bitter-Berry" as a somewhat similar name to his deadname.
Fashion wise B.B dresses more alternatively, fitting with his music tastes. Mostly settles for what's comfortable and listens to a lot of other things too (polyjamorous lol).
B.B appears sickly due to an unbalanced diet, but default is kinda chubby.
Sometimes his wolf instincts clash with his deer instincts to the point of self destructive behavior.
Despite the dark subject matter, he has the ability to be silly and laugh at dumb things or odd coincidences.
There's a lot of darker stuff and not-safe-for-tumblr subject matter but hopefully that can be gauged with the bio there.
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billyvell · 1 year ago
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Life is Strange 2 thoughts/feelings/review
So, Life is Strange 2. I finished the game yesterday and watched the other endings today. Things are not as fresh in my mind as if I had just finished and I talked a bit about it in other places so this feels a bit hard, but I'll try to lay down all my thoughts...
First of all... All my homies love LIS2, fuck you if you don't like LIS2! Seriously though, for years I've seen people say that the game wasn't good, that the characters weren't as good as the ones from the first one, that the Sean/Daniel relationship wasn't that interesting... I kinda did suspect it was just nostalgia goggles or whatever, but now I know for sure. I don't think there's anything wrong with connecting more with LIS1 and having a deeper relationship with it, but in this case I think you shouldn't even be comparing them and expecting the game to live up to that to you in the first place.
Now, onto the actual game. God, this was so fucking heartbreaking. I think I cried in every single episode. The very core premise of the story is just so sad, so unfair, and despite the powers so rooted in reality that it left me legit feeling uncomfortable with how fucked up their whole situation was. There are good moments, sure, but honestly every single thing that happens from the moment their dad is shot is just... Not how their life should've had to be.
Sure, LIS1 and BTS had dark themes too. But here, it's like, they lose everything from the beginning. Sean doesn't get to go to his party, to hang out with Lyla, to continue his normal life in any way. Daniel loses a part of his childhood. They're both forced to grow up so much faster than they should. There's a line Sean says in episode 3, and it's just a little idle VO, but it fucking crushed me, "Stop overthinking. You're not a teenager anymore". Even though he's fucking 16... He's 16 and he has to essentially become a parent. I knew what the game was about and lowkey followed it a bit when it was releasing, knew a few spoilers, but that didn't make anything any less heartbreaking.
I thought it was beautiful how the game took the opportunity to showcase and celebrate alternate lifestyles. The "family", Away, their freedom and how they interacted with society brings so much into perspective. I'm still a bit conflicted about Karen tbh, but I'm glad that at least they did show something beautiful through her story.
My biggest problem overall is probably how they handled the Finn romance route... I knew back when the game was releasing that despite adding a male LI, they pushed the female one more onto you and gave her more content, while locking the option to kiss him with a "bad choice" (I didn't know what exactly it was). And yeah, that is still true. I still think it was a mistake to lock the kiss with accepting the heist, and while I kinda understand the writer's explanation for that, I still think it could've been handled in another way, or they could've just let him kiss you and "betray" you by doing the heist anyway, since he still does that when you're friends lol.
I see people complaining that because they moved from place to place each episode, there wasn't enough time to connect with the characters... Idk if I'd say I disagree, but it just wasn't really the case for me. I was very invested in all the relationships, in Finn, Cassidy, Jacob, Chris, Karen. Everyone at the farm was cool and everyone in Away too. Lyla. You get so many tidbits about the characters even when they're not there on screen. The only thing I have to say which is kinda related to that, is that I think the time jumps were maybe a bit too big, and that the way they handled Mushroom was... weird.
I got the Parting Ways ending, and I'm satisfied with it. I kinda planned to get it, but only in the sense that I was spoiled that you get with Finn there. I didn't know that the whole morality thing had anything to do with it, and I played the first two episodes without even knowing that there was a points system about that and about brotherhood. I just made all the choices that were high morality (besides killing the cougar and the heist) because it was what I would do, and tried to be a good brother for Daniel. I figured that choosing to cross the border would most likely give me that one, but I just couldn't accept Sean having to go to prison for 15 years for something he didn't even do. If we were able to choose between Parting Ways and Blood Brothers, then I would actually be conflicted about which I wanted.
With the way the game's system works though, where you need to have low morality to get Blood Brothers, I couldn't really do it. I can't imagine myself teaching Daniel to be selfish and not care about killing people. I actually think it's super cool to watch Daniel use his power offensively and fuck shit up, but it just wouldn't be my version of the story. It's funny because, if we just played as Daniel, I wouldn't mind going that route. But since we play as Sean, with it being our job to raise Daniel, I feel a different kind of responsability towards leading him to become a good person. I also think it's beautiful that he gets to have the rest of his childhood, teenagehood, and live a "normal" healthy life with his grandparents. He does it in the redemption one too, but as I said, that just screws up Sean too much.
So, I'm a little disappointed that they're separated (and maybe can't ever see each other again? I'm a bit confused about Daniel's situation and whether he could visit), and that it's a bit shorter than the others (at least than the redemption one), but it IS the ending my playthrough led to and in that I'm satisfied.
I think this story is just incredible. It touched me so much, and the fact that some people can't see it genuinely frustrates me. The people complaining it's too political in particular can just go fuck themselves. It might not be perfect, but like with all things I appreciate, I'm just so glad it exists.
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i-drink-and-i-write-fics · 5 months ago
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The Hidden Realm
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Chapter 4: The Fae Realm
Summary: Elrond has sacrificed himself in a prisoner exchange to secure Lindir's freedom. Has he made a mistake?
Note: I am so sorry I disappeared for so long! I have been trying to turn Timeless Warrior into a published series. I make no promises on how consistent I will be, but I will be trying more. Thank you for your patience!
Elrond didn’t notice anything different at first; it was just the normal, corrupted forest now known as Mirkwood. But the deeper they went, the quieter it became. The birds stopped singing, the animals were diving for cover, and even the trees stopped rustling. The Queen and her guard never spoke to each other but they were communicating nonetheless. Even the horses - his included - seemed to speak this silent language. 
The portal was nearly invisible even to his elvish eyes, and part of him wondered if that had to do with his Edain blood. It was there, a slight shimmer in the air not too dissimilar to when the air was too hot. 
And they were heading straight for it.
The Queen went first and Elrond had to blink several times to make sure he was not being deceived. But sure enough, parts of her were disappearing as she went through the shimmer until she was no longer in front of him. As if she had vanished into thin air. Then it was his turn. 
He tried not to panic when he saw Morroch's head vanish before his eyes, and then his hands followed. Elrond closed his eyes, preparing for the worst. But he was met with chuckling from the guard. Opening his eyes, he was left speechless at the sight of the fae realm.
There was a glow to nearly every plant, source of water, and even some of the animals. They followed a river that had a silver-blue glow, and the banks were lined with beautiful pink flowers that had the most beautiful scent Elrond had ever come across. 
Butterflies bigger than his head fluttered by and the birds sang a song he had never heard. Even the sky seemed to have changed. It was achingly beautiful.
Then they arrived at her castle.
It wasn’t obvious at first. They passed gardens and pools, filled with both fae and humans, which surprised Elrond. Everyone stopped at the sight of an elf in chains, but no one made a move to save him. If anything, they all had a look of understanding on their faces. What had been occurring in this kingdom?
Then the dirt road turned into one of stone, cut in intricate patterns of flowers, stars, and moons. The road lead to a massive gate, silver in color and covered in ivy, fern, and moss with dark purple flowers blooming and glowing. Through the gates, Elrond could see fountains with different colored glowing water, lightning bugs dancing all over, and more fae children splashing in the fountains. 
The forest hadn’t ended at the gates. It wasn’t as thick in the courtyard as in Eryn Galen, but the forest was still there. Hiding the castle. 
It reached up into the treetops, the stones used to build it a moonlight silver with many open windows, towers, bridges, and more moss, fern, and ivy growing all over. There were lights at the top of each tower and Elrond chalked it up to magic as no candle could survive standing atop a tower day and night. 
There was a glowing moat around the castle and next to the bridge to cross stood two sentinels. The Queen dismounted at the sight of them, followed by her guard. The guard and the two sentinels carefully removed Elrond from his horse and the guard grabbed Elrond’s arm. The sentinels called for a couple of squires to take the horses from the group and then the Queen was leading them to the castle doors.
Elrond could smell the magic in the air that surrounded them. It wasn’t suffocated as corrupted magic could be. It was new, fresh, and full of hope. It smelled of Arda when Elrond was young. 
Before everything was taken from him.
It gave him an unexpected wave of nostalgia, causing him to think of his parents for the first time in millennia. How his mother would give him and Elros a cookie before tucking them into bed. How his father would show Elrond about plants and Elros about animals. Oh, how he missed them both. Would they be proud of the elf he had become?
The foyer was grand and the only comparison he had was Eryn Galen. That foyer was smaller and more focused compared to this grandeur.
No, he had another comparison.
Gil-Galad’s home. The High King of the Noldor had towers made, and while they were grand those were still towers. No, Elrond didn’t know a true castle outside of Minas Tirath. This structure before him was more human in nature than elvish. Did the fae get the idea from man or the other way around?
The Queen took them down a hall to their left just on the other side of the foyer and were immediately met with a vibrant green fae woman. 
“Your Majesty, oh!” She stopped short at the sight of the elf. “Your Majesty?”
“It is quite alright. This elf will be taking the place of the prisoner we secured at Thranduil’s party.”
The fae woman blinked in surprise. “He is?”
“Yes, he is.” There was no arguing with her tone and the woman bowed her head.
“Yes, Your Majesty. Shall I get the other prisoner ready for departure?”
The Queen let out a deep breath through her nose. “Yes, I suppose we should do that. I wish to speak with him before his departure, so do not make haste.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” And the woman quickly left their presence.
“You seemed annoyed at the idea of letting Lindir go,” Elrond commented.
The Queen looked at him out of the side of her eyes but did not comment as she continued to lead them down to her dungeons. Elrond took note at the artwork on the walls: beautiful portraits of what he had assumed was the royal family. What surprised him was the amount of humans in some of the paintings.
“Is it typical to allow humans to live in your realm?”
She turned sharply at his question. “Get this in your head now, elf. There will be no negotiating. No pleading. No bargaining. You are our prisoner per your own request. Do not concern yourself with my kingdom, for this is the last you will see of it outside your cell.”
She turned back just as quickly and Elrond did not mean the quiet words that left his mouth.
“I only desire to learn.”
“I do not care of your desires.”
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While the cell was dark, it was not what Elrond had feared. It appeared more of a standard room. A comfortable enough bed, a private area to relieve himself, and even a window which had surprised him at first until he realized the image was produced by magic. 
“The light from the window changes as the day progresses,” the guard explained. “We do not have cruel prisons as some humans and elves had built. Torture is not our way.”
Elrond wondered at this but didn’t have long to ponder as another was in the room. Lindir.
Being held by the Queen.
“Say your goodbyes,” she commanded.
She tossed him into the room and Elrond caught the elf as he stumbled. 
“Lord Elrond?!” Lindir’s eyes were full of panic. “You gave your life for mine? No! You must go back and lead Imladris!”
“Imladris will be in the capable hands of my sons. What kind of a lord would I be if I did not do everything in my power to protect those who had called Rivendell their home? Go, Lindir. My children will need your and Erestor’s guidance during these trying times.”
“But my lord-”
“I will not hear another word, Lindir. That is an order.”
Lindir dropped his head. “Yes, Lord Elrond.”
The Queen watched the entire interaction and Elrond could have sworn he saw a flash of sorrow in her eyes. But it was gone far too quickly.
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“Who dares join me down here?!”
Rhyannon was still surprised after all these years how strong the voice still was. He was full of so many surprises despite all the time he spent in her dungeons.
Down and down and down she went to the very bottom of her dungeons were only one prisoner was kept. To the only prison cell that had a steel door on top of the protection charm. The two guards standing on either side straightened to attention at the sight of their queen and she smiled at them.
“It’s alright. I wish to speak to the old grump.”
The guards hesitated for a moment before finally opening the door. Rhyannon didn’t bother to remove the protective charm and her instincts proved correct when a cup came flying at her head.
“WITCH!” The elf was clean, but there was no joy in his soul. His once beautiful silvery golden hair was now faded to a dull white.
“Is that the best you have in you?” A smirk played on her face. “I thought your kind was supposed to fade after time when your soul has been wounded?”
“I will live to see you dead!”
“The Fae cannot die, unlike elves.” She stated plainly.
“Who are these new prisoners?! I could hear you talking with them!”
“Do not concern yourself for those you will not meet.”
“DID YOU CAPTURE-”
“No, I didn’t,” Rhyannon sighed in annoyance. “Thranduil still roams free.”
“He will take your head!”
She chuckled at this. “Funny, he thinks I have already done that to you.”
There was still life in his eyes, but the pain they showed at her words made Rhyannon wonder if this would finally be his end.
“He thinks I’m dead?”
“Don’t worry. If it makes you feel better, when I finally take Eryn Galen I can keep him in a cell right next to yours. And his son next to his.”
“You leave my family alone!”
“I will not any more than you left mine. Actions have consequences, Oropher.”
Tagging Crew:
Everything
@liadamerondjarin
@blackgaladriel
Elrond
@themerriweathermage
@theyeetedsoul
@awkwardbecomesyou
@cauliflowertree
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soleilnomoon · 2 years ago
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Hi again! Still absolutely adore your Kid fic from your last event 💜 Never got around to asking for a Sanji one, so here I am again😅 But seriously, congrats on over 550 followers!! Love seeing your blog grow, cause you’re really talented and deserve them all and legit can’t wait til you hit 1k+ 🥰
For the event order, may I please ask for a #1 with my boi Sanji, with anmitsu, konpeito, and keylime pie and with honey, please? 🥹 i hate this but need some sanji angst 😭
I also dunno if these three would work particularly well together for a prompt, so you can choose whatever! just really feeling angst and sanji rn and maybe comfort if you’d like 🥰
Thank you for all your works you’ve done so far 💜💜
hiiii omg haha i loved that fic fr (i'm obsessed w that man!!!) also ily for requesting sanji i don't write him nearly enough 🥰️ but thank you sm!! 😭 making me all soft and i am so so sorry this took forever, as u know i am so slow but!!! i had fun tormenting sanji w the angst ngl 💓💓💓💓 also those were great choices for the prompt, i wanted to write more but it would've been 8k words before i finished and who has time for that (i do, but listen... that's besides the point) ✨
2k words, fem reader (honestly gn too now that i think abt it), sfw (SHOCKING i know), 18+ mdni, a lil bit suggestive but nothing wild, angst angst angst city babey, fluff if you squint, also i gave u comfort bc u deserve it bb 💗(and sanji does too); feat. sanji being in denial forever and ever, mutual pining, fake unrequited love, reader is determined and sanji is a coward; also i made myself sad writing this but a good sad bc sanji deserves happiness and i'll fight oda if he doesn't get it i s2g... (if u see grammar mistakes/spelling errors... no u didn't 💗)
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“loving each other began this way: threading / loneliness into loneliness / patiently, our hands trembling and precise.” — yehuda amichai
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STEP 01:
what does it take to kill a soul? —
a question that’s posed unironically, without a hint of remorse or tact, the words precise and venomous, slicing through the thick veneer that he’s carefully crafted. he’s never been able to answer that question — not at six years old, not twelve or fifteen, and not at twenty-one. his siblings took pleasure in taunting him with seemingly philosophical questions, ones that clamped down onto his thoughts with heavy shackles.
even after he’s extracted himself from that life, he can’t scrub those memories from his mind — no matter how hard he tries. they sit, still raw and bloody, giving rise to unpleasant emotions that make his stomach churn from so many things left unsaid. he never set out to be a pirate, but piracy has given him the sort of freedom that he could only wish for as a child.
it’s with tender hands, with nimble yet graceful fingers, and with a fastidiousness that puts him in a category of his own, that he creates and creates and creates —
he’s told he’s an artist, which only pushes him to work harder, to be better. and when he asks himself why, he doesn’t have an answer. or, rather, the answer he does have only serves as a punishing reminder that he’ll never be good enough. no matter how many times his crew mates thank him — their emphatic, genuine praise a soft, warm breeze against his heart, gentle caresses that he commits to memory — despair still manages to infiltrate, a darkness choking out what little light he has left inside of him.
STEP 02:
how far are you willing to go to reach the truth? —
when you join the crew, he’s unnerved by your presence, which is wholly unlike him. usually, he’s able to put on his façade of the flirtatious cook, one that’s jovial and sociable, that lives to serve and please those around him. his first conversation with you ends in disaster; he spills the drink he tried to pour for you, despite your insistence that you are perfectly capable of pouring your own drink — and he knows it’s not out of malice, but it cuts into him all the same.
he tries again and again, bringing you little treats that you only agree to eating if he sits and eats with you; confusion eats away at his mind, and when he opens his mouth to decline, you pat the seat next to you and he acquiesces. he sits stiffly, at first, unsure of why he always feels on edge around you — an irritating need to impress you in a way he’s never wanted to for others grows stronger by the day.
you think it’s cute that he always seems flustered around you — that he stumbles over his words, refuses to hold eye contact with you for longer than thirty seconds — you also think it’s cute that the false bravado that he puts on for the world, diminishes immediately the second you come close to him. if he’s skittish, it’s because you always catch him staring at you; despite his quick reflexes, his reactions around you are slow but pure — childish, almost.
lately he’s clumsier and scatterbrained, nearly burning dinner when you decide to keep him company. you lean against the countertop, a teasing smile on your face — the same one that that caused him to bump his forehead against the cabinet door earlier — as you prattle on about a dream you had. he can barely keep up, his eyes drifting from the skillet to your face, gliding around the curve of your cheek, dipping lower in a slow descent along your neck.
he blinks repeatedly when he reaches your clavicle, stunned at his restraint; and it’s only when you call his name loudly that he realizes he’s left the heat on for too long.
“are you okay?” you ask when you see that he’s fussing over how best to save the dish, mouth moving as he quietly mutters to himself. he barely registers your voice, as an insidious one whispers harshly into his ears about his perpetual incompetence and lack of talent.
you can see that he’s retreated even further into his mind, a feat that also leaves you frustrated. you want to shake him but refrain and grab his hand instead. he snaps out of whatever stupor that held him captive just moments ago, lips parting as he sighs softly before glancing down at you.
“thank you.”
the words are quiet, but impactful, as he didn’t think he’d be able to get them out. you let go of his hand too soon, but he doesn’t say anything else, choosing to focus on cooking than embarrassing himself again in front of you.
you take his silence as a silent dismissal, but you don’t fight him on it — it’s bitter, that sort of rejection, and you swallow back your argument with great difficulty.
STEP 03:
what’s the difference between cowardice and self-preservation? —
frustration bubbles underneath his skin when he can’t find where he placed his lighter; he runs a hand through his hair and tugs on impulse, accidentally ripping a few strands from his scalp. they swirl and tumble onto the ground, pathetic in a way — just like me, but he never really says that out loud. he doesn’t hear your footsteps, although you did your best to remain as quiet as possible.
a cigarette sits in between his lips, and he has half a mind to toss it over the railing of the ship, but a warmth suddenly appears in front of him in the form of a flame. you found his lighter on the floor earlier and meant to give it to him, but every time you got closer, he found every excuse to leave. you don’t realize the impact you have on him — not really, anyway — because he’s genuinely surprised that you can’t hear the heavy beats of his heart that grow more intolerable the longer he hangs around you.
always afraid of being found out, he opts to keep his distance. it’s easier this way, he tells himself, better. but he doesn’t quite believe that; the evidence is plain as day when his tongue feels like its grown three sizes in the span of seconds, where his words get lost and forgotten. it’s all your fault, he reasons; you who insists on talking candidly with him, who insists on listening to him ramble about his dreams, who absolutely insists on stubbornly tearing down his walls, steadily chipping away without a care in the world. he looks at you as if you are the source of all his problems, but he also looks at you as if you’re the solution.
the intensity behind his stare makes your hands tremble slightly, it’s a miracle you’ve managed to keep yourself composed for this long. you light the end of his cigarette with ease, as if you’ve done this for him hundreds of times —and place the lighter into his pants pocket afterwards. if he wasn’t so used to you getting in his personal space all the time, he’d retreat immediately. the proximity is almost too much for him, but he doesn’t step back; you take that as a good sign and keep him company for a few minutes.
you don’t care for the smell of smoke, but on him it smells good. you almost tell him that, but instead bite down on your lip and keep your comment at bay, nerves getting the best of you as you nearly choke on the possibility that your feelings won’t be reciprocated.
another time, maybe. cheeks flushed, you turn your face to look elsewhere. although, you wonder if there ever will be another time. with him, you never know.
he’s still trying to figure you out and why he feels a different sort of calm around you; it’s alarming and new, drumming up an irrational fear within him. he doesn’t think he’s deserving of your attention or affection, and he’s convinced himself that you don’t harbor any romantic feelings for him. and why would you?
one by one, his thoughts pummel into him, acerbic and overwhelming. he exhales a sliver of smoke and puts the cigarette out. he gives you a quick, apologetic look before telling you goodnight, the smile on his face is melancholic and barely existent. you don’t dare say a word, keep your lips pressed together stubbornly; exasperated and dejected, you don’t know what’s worse — his inability to lower his guard around you for longer than ten minutes, or your inability to stop yourself from trying to carve pieces of yourself to give to him.
maybe if you helped him fill the gaping holes in his heart, he’d truly understand how you feel.
STEP 04:
if you had to do it all over again, would you do anything differently? —
sleep evades you after that night, and the night after that, and so forth; it gets so bad that you’re yawning in the middle of the day, falling asleep before you can have a cup of coffee or tea. this does not go unnoticed by the others, and after talking with nami, you feel less out of your element and finally can see the parts of sanji that he wants to keep hidden. her advice is simple: approach slowly and with intent; corner him and don’t let him escape.
you bide your time, full confident that you can find a moment to sit down with him and talk this all out. it doesn’t come easy, but franky mysteriously swaps sanji for the night’s watch — something that should strike you as odd, but it’s a small opening that you take without thinking as you hurriedly climb up to the crow’s nest with a renewed sort of energy.
even with his eyes closed, as he sits lazily on the bench with head tilted back against the wall, he knows it’s you.
“go back to bed,” he says firmly, refusing to look at you.
your stubbornness, unfortunately, wins out. “i’m staying.” at that he sits up, his attention completely on you as his eyes widen at your words. he wants to ask you why, but cowardice wins out — again. as his features soften, a flush crawls along his face, lightly painting his cheeks pink. he closes his eyes again, tries to steady his breathing as he counts backwards, only for his efforts to be obliterated with ease the moment you sit next to him.
as your thigh presses against his, you take his hand and on impulse you trace your fingertip along the lines on his palm. he watches you with a morbid fascination that scares him; but then you start to say things like, “you will live a very long life,” and “you are courageous, and you have a big heart.”
a small part of him wants to pull his hand away, so you won’t say anything else — but he remains put, so still that you almost think he’s stopped breathing. your voice is sweet and disarming, even when you carry on this charade of reading his palm. a belated realization hits him forcefully, making him blink several times; it dawns on him that you’ve always been so kind and gentle with him, even when you teased him. he’s spent all this time overthinking and hiding behind his past, that it never occurred to him that he could have simply let you in. you’ve never given him reason to believe that you’d betray or harm him intentionally.
he takes a deep breath, voice a little uneven, “i—”
you lean in close, adoration dripping onto your words as you interrupt him. “hey, have i told you?” the question glides along his skin, the words seeping into him as you continue, the lilt in your voice a honeyed, melodic spell. “you remind me of starlight and the mysteries of space.” your lips brush against his when you tell him that, and a warmth settles into the middle of his chest, makes it hard to focus. he doesn’t think when he curls his fingers around yours and doesn’t think when heleans down to kiss you — tender yet electrifying all the same.
the move disarms you in a way that doesn’t quite make sense to you, so you simply hum in approval and lean your head against his shoulder. a comfortable silence settles around you both, but you don’t mind that at all; it’s nice, not having to tip-toe around him anymore, and the demons that plagued him for so long don’t seem so intimidating with you by his side.
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