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mochi-marmalade · 4 months ago

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Easy Lovers

a/n: i am having a field day with this man. writing him is a bit difficult but reading him is SO GOOD. might post a short continued blurb of this story if people like it :3

Sunday x reader

1k words

warnings: none

You walked into the parlor, seeing Dan Heng, Sunday, March, and Himeko seated at different spots throughout the car. March and Himeko seemed to be playing some sort of game, while Sunday read a book and Dan Heng examined something. You sat by Dan Heng asking him what he was doing, and gave a brief chuckle when he explained. Sunday couldn’t help but peek at you over the cover of his novel, feeling somewhat upset that you had chosen to sit with the Vidyadhara instead of him. He’d been experiencing some inner turmoil lately, not that the feeling was new to him, though the source was. Sunday had found himself anticipating your arrival more lately, paying more attention to you, and craving your presence. It hadn’t taken him long to realize, but he was thoroughly unhappy with the outcome. Sunday was an organized man- everything he did was planned and orderly, meticulous even. This, though? He had not planned for this, not even a little, and it irked him greatly. In some ways, you were the exact opposite. You were messy, spontaneous, and clumsy, but kind and thoughtful. You were perfectly imperfect. Something about the way you gave yourself so freely to others endeared you to him. You were honest, you baked for the express members regularly, you were so, so patient, even when Sunday was not. You had nothing but love in your heart. You loved giving, loved your friends, you loved the world. Sunday saw in you what he was not, and in that, he found something worth protecting. Maybe, he thought, he saw something worth loving.

Everyone remained in the parlor until it grew late, and they gradually retired to their rooms. You and Dan Heng remained along with Sunday, who felt ill as he saw the two of you laugh together. Eventually, you yawned and stretched your arms above your head. “You should sleep soon.” Dan Heng commented.

“Yeah, I probably should. Goodnight, then, Dan Heng.”

“Goodnight.”

The two of you left, and Sunday sighed, closing his book and making his way to his room shortly after. He changed into his pajamas and turned on a small lamp, filling the room with soft, warm light. He sat for a moment and ran a hand through his silver hair, mulling over his inability to engage with you. It seemed so easy for you to talk to him, like it felt natural. For Sunday, though, everything before the express had been a game. His conversations were calculated and had hidden meaning behind each of them. Now that he had the opportunity to speak freely, he felt like he didn’t know how. After a while, a timid knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts. He got up and slid the door open, revealing you, dressed in pajamas and clutching a small pillow. Sunday felt his mouth run dry, managing to choke out, “What are you doing here so late?” You shifted your weight absentmindedly while you murmured, “Couldn’t sleep.” He stepped to the side so you could enter and closed the door behind you. Sunday sat on the edge of his bed and gestured for you to do the same. The two of you sat in silence for a moment before he wondered aloud, “Anything bothering you?” You shook your head. “Just not feeling well.” He turned his head to examine you as you sat gazing downwards with the pillow held close. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He said, silently berating himself for not being able to answer more considerately. You shook your head, saying, “It’s fine. I just didn’t know where else to go.” He raised an eyebrow, heart speeding up at the thought that you might trust him enough to come to him before anyone else. Silence fell for a minute again as you fidgeted with the hem of your pajama shorts. Sunday spoke up again, “Bad dream?” You nodded and your grip on the pillow in your arms grew tighter. “You can always come here.” He said reassuringly. You peered up at him hesitantly, and he prayed that his lightly blushed cheeks wouldn’t betray him.

“Sunday,” You said quietly. “Thank you.” He furrowed his brow.

“What for?”

“For entertaining me. Even if it’s just for a bit.”

He offered you a relaxed smile. “It’s no problem at all. I enjoy your company.” You smiled widely, stating, “I enjoy your company too.” Sunday’s wings fluttered a bit at that, making you huff in amusement. Seemingly out of nowhere, you asked, “What do you do?”

He gave you a bemused look. “A lot of things, I suppose. I enjoy playing instruments and reading, among other things.”

“Will you play for me sometime?”

His expression changed to one of pleasant surprise. “Sure.” You decided to pry further, wondering, “What do you play?”

“Piano, violin… That’s pretty much it.”

“Still, that’s amazing. I couldn’t play an instrument to save my life.”

Sunday smiles, pondering what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. Like usual, your thoughts are all over the place. At this point, he thinks he’s pretty much figured out that you say anything that comes to mind and is appropriate for the situation. You looked out of the window into the dark space beyond, flecked with gleaming stars. Sunday took a moment to appreciate your dreamy gaze as you admired them. How he longed to tell you that you were his most radiant star…

“How long are you going to keep staring at me?”

Sunday’s eyes widened. How long did you know he was looking at you?

“There’s a reflection in the glass, silly.” Right, he should have taken that into account. “Ah, well, I-I’m very sorry.” He choked out, his face flushed and wings threatening to cover his face. You turned to face him and, with a grin, said, “It’s no matter. I’m just glad you feel the same.” Sunday’s embarrassment turned to bewilderment. “...Feel the same?” He questioned. He had to be absolutely sure of what you meant before he said anything else.

Your smile dropped. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Sunday. I thought you- we-”

He took your hand in both of his and, with a breath, he managed to confirm, “I have feelings for you.” The beaming smile returned to your face, and Sunday exhaled a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. You lifted your free hand up to gingerly push away one of the wings that hovered near his face. “Me too.”

Sunday took you in his arms- warm and comforting. You leaned into him, and for a moment, the world was Sunday. In that instant, you felt as if it was all you needed.

#x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #sunday #sunday hsr #hsr sunday #sunday x reader #sunday x you #hsr x reader #my beautiful boy

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hwaightme · 1 year ago

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ateez as signs of love (relationship hcs)

(masterlist) (perma-taglist)

8️⃣ pairing: bf!ateez x gn!reader 8️⃣ genre: headcanons, fluff, established long-term relationships 8️⃣ summary: the lessons, the comfort that love teaches and gives you, in a series of 8 headcanons with each of these beautiful souls 8️⃣ wordcount: 2.4k total 8️⃣ warnings/tags: not edited, drabble-style hcs, enamoured simping activated, soft and focused on subtle signs of love, energies that people give 8️⃣ taglist: at the bottom of the hcs 8️⃣ a/n: this anniversary holds a lot of significance to me, and i want to celebrate ateez together. i am forever grateful that they are in my life, and are a source of joy and hope. happy ateez day everyone. much love~

hongjoong

matching outfits, both in subtle and in louder ways - sharing accessories like earrings and rings, or colour coordinating for events you are attending together - a quiet signal that even if you are not loud about it, you two belong together and are on the same wavelength

lyrics dedicated to you and to what you have been through as a couple - how you have evolved and what you have seen and experienced; evolution through musical genre and through musical complexity - nods to travels, movies, conversations…

adoring glances across the room, wide smiles and hearty laughter at the silliest jokes simply because they are inside jokes in the language you two invented

challenging one another, proposing new viewpoints and debating on creative projects and ways forward in a healthy manner, while being each other’s number one fans and supporters; you can count on one another’s honest opinion, open arms and mind

late night calls, or calls that run through the entire night where you two either work remotely, or first connect under the pretense of sharing something but end up updating, chatting away, calming your hearts

becoming the second voice of reason, counting on the other to support and be the clarity when one is feeling distressed or unable to make a quick call of judgement or decision

encouraging freedom - two people with their own dreams and goals, respectful of space and time and working to maintain this even in a relationship; a powerful dynamic where the sky's the limit, and even then, you find a way to go above and beyond

having clear priorities and plans that span years, facing the future side by side and mapping it out against both individual and couple variables

seonghwa

feeling comfortable and safe to discuss feelings, fears, hopes, dreams, curled up on the couch together, drama left frozen on the television screen; bodies intertwined, hearts beating steadily, calmly, in a world built for two; deep conversations turning into pivotal moments, not being afraid to reveal and expose yourself to the other, being accepted and facing inner turmoil no longer alone

exploring and introducing each other to your interests and passions, learning and growing together, and in turn forming an even stronger connection through shared references, media, jokes; knowing each other's preferences and orders by heart, wordlessly sharing any meal with smiles on your faces and knowing what to send to one another when physically apart

order in a comfortable silence when doing chores or walking side by side in places you both love and cherish, wonderful chaos when both of you let go and play like kids again; reconnecting with all versions of yourselves and finding each one precious

encouraging each other to accept yourselves but also to expand horizons and to love both the world and the small things - operating by the “no harm in trying” principle

seeing each person as a universe, and other people, things, interests and events in their life as stars that form beautiful constellations - linking what is previously seen as disparate and making a new direction to develop into

making playlists for different moods, activities to suit the season, planning evenings days and mornings and then living through them with a serene enjoyment; reevaluating and rebuilding habits, finding fun in frustrations

returning home be it to an actual house or through the phone, talking about everything and nothing, and encouraging one another to try your best while maintaining a healthy balance

a safe space, because you are each other's home and no matter what you will be there to listen, to speak, to write the next lines in the poem of life together

yunho

reading each other's emotions and wordlessly showing support, be it through a touch of the hand or through the offering of a favourite snack or a kind word

playful competition, racing one another to the front door of your home, laughter ringing in the air; seeing the brighter side of the world together, and reminding one another that it exists when the going gets tough

spontaneous getaway to a beloved holiday destination, healing and relaxing together away from commotion and chaos - finding peace in quiet conversation and taking flights or drives as an opportunity to reflect, to free oneself and to simply focus on the journey itself

walking in nature, holding hands and listening to birdsong and shrill cries of cicadas - valuing the process of grounding oneself and listening to inner thoughts, beliefs and feelings

road trips and long walks, exploring new sights and making every place a shared new memory and a precious moment; moving beyond a set “base” when it comes to home, and treating the world like your home to find the place that you both truly belong to

remembering even the smallest events and details from years ago and holding them as invaluable, celebrating anniversaries by revisiting representations of said memories

quoting your favourite lines from films or video games, re-enacting scenes together and crafting impromptu performances in the living room before collapsing in adorable giggles

finding the world in one another’s eyes, catching each other off guard in the best way with sweet comments and with absent-minded touches of the hand, reassurance that even when your mind is elsewhere, you have an anchor, you have a person who you are racing… not against, but with

yeosang

perseverance - in times where you face trouble, a hurdle, a tumble downwards, you reach out to help the other to stand up again, and take pride in having gone through so much and now having that special someone with whom nothing is as scary

surrounding yourselves with kindness and positive energy - having a home that is safe, secure and reflects both of you perfectly; gradually and subtly learning about each other’s hidden parts, adoring them all the same

learning to accept help, and leaning on one another when difficulties arise; openly communicating and being able to voice concerns and questions - feeling comfortable to do so

playful banter and witticisms, knowing when to humble one another but also when to lift one another up; being able to non-verbally communicate when in larger groups

appreciating one another’s efforts and valuing improvements, hard work, acts of service that have been done discreetly

walking huddled under a large umbrella to your favourite cafe, ordering ice cream and drifting to the seats that have become yours and his; speaking quietly, recollecting the happenings of the day, calmly making puzzle pieces connect into a bigger picture

finding comfort in routine; one that starts as a schedule and slowly becomes automatic; you two moving in one space like in a fluid dance, clockwork from one task to another

playing not to win but for the sake of spending time together - becoming an unbeatable duo in matches and subconsciously knowing each other’s style and approach when it comes to both communication and video games

san

reading excerpts from books and poetry aloud to one another in the late evening, bundled up together in a warm throw blanket

learning your favourite songs, humming or singing them to you as you slow dance in the kitchen - monologues and confessions said through music and little gestures of affection, though in a private space, the words spill and you are wrapped in reassurance

hand on the small of your back, a subtle reminder of how even in the busiest spaces, in places where you feel like you are fading away, there is always someone beside you, ready to support you and someone who cares

recounting stories from childhood, talking about home together and building a new one, first through conversation, then in reality; seeing the picture of you and him as clear as day

headpats, nuzzling, ruffling of the hair, sleepy embraces in the early morning that transition into a hand on the thigh, a soft brush of the upper arm, a move of a strand of hair from your face, a stolen kiss, or simply sitting so close that you almost become one

learning to set up healthy boundaries, barriers and principles, and respecting each other’s - having unspoken unbreakable rules that lead to healthy communication and mutual support, and supporting one another in finding limits externally and enforcing them for the wellbeing of oneself

living passionately, and taking each day into the heart to experience it fully; taking the time to evaluate all of its elements and taking what serves you best while still appreciating things that might not be as valuable

remembering your roots and loving your origins, being proud of your individuality and of what an who you represent; finding or strengthening the connections with who you are and who you want to be, separately and together

mingi

waiting to watch a movie or a show together - watching it twice because you were analysing every moment and chatted away, intrigued by one another’s minds

dispelling each other’s concerns and worries when it comes to perception, communication and achievement - being able to whittle down to exact doubts and unravelling them until a smile forms on your beloved’s face

checking in on each other’s emotional capacity and learning to ask for signs when the other might overflow - encouraging minimising the bottling up of emotions and dedicating time to talk things through

spending time getting lost in history and in innovation, expanding intellectual horizons by visiting events, exhibitions, talks to see all that the creatives and innovators of the world are conjuring - pondering all you have witnessed together

giving each other courage, hyping each other up and loving every colour - inventing cheers and chants, secret handshakes, signals, making up songs about random things on the spot and their recital becoming a tradition

admiring differences, and studying them with a beautiful curiosity; not fearing to ask the ‘why’, the ‘how’ continuously because there is no limit to wonder

comfort in introspection and self-discovery; encouraging exploration of the self and of own interests, but always reconnecting, forming a network of possibility between thought, learnings, ideas

going with the flow, and bringing the flow to each other - sometimes, transition into a new landscape or environment is easy, other times, you need a helping hand; both of you are ready to lead the other into a new world and will wait for as long as necessary

wooyoung

family, the feeling of belonging - “you are my person and I will fight for you”; strong circle of trusted people, a network that you can rely on and of course, the strong bond between you

even when alone, you are not lonely; the feeling that even when you have to be apart for some time, you are still there with and for one another, one call away; even though you would be playful, you are always emotionally available, and past the teasing is boundless love

adventures to places far away, still home because it is the two of you travelling; exploring with an open mind and daring one another to step outside of comfort zones, to take the leap, to bloom

candlelit dinners after a cooking turned jam session - dancing with spatulas in hand, yelling out the lyrics to any and all songs, learning them on the fly; long stares and cheeky jokes exchanged across the table, dressing up for no reason except to impress each other

love that expands past the two of you - your friend groups, your families, pets… the social landscape is boundless and you trust each other to navigate it smoothly - permanent plus one, double trouble, partners in crime, the best team

gentle scolding to take care of yourselves, prioritising each other’s health and wellbeing, keeping each other out of harm’s way while retaining a fiery spirit

healing from past insecurities through words and actions - nurturing beauty that is both internal and external, and giving each other hope in every tomorrow through warm smiles and even warmer hugs

not being afraid to stand up for one another, for what you believe in, for the greater good - lover and fighter do go hand in hand after all, and lead to a respectful relationship where adventure and a blazing passion are still very much alive

jongho

evenings spent at a noraebang you now frequent, singing songs that have grown to describe your relationship, the months, years you have known one another; serenades you dedicate, classics you belt in a duet

retaining the air of pleasant mystery until both of you break into a grin and melt into a soft laughter; knowing glint in the eyes, you do not need to say much, for your actions speak volumes

being considerate, making space and in this way, turning home into an ideal, stable equilibrium where company feels natural, essential, even if all you do during the day is sit in different rooms - there is bliss in knowing that in that other room is the one you love and the one who loves you

walks in the park, stopping to sit on a bench in a particularly scenic spot overlooking a pond, under the trees - reminding each other to pause and to look around you, enjoying the moment and appreciating how much has changed, and for the better

beauty and love in order - from how you like your coffee, to what you prefer to wear and how, to how you carry yourself and to what side of your loved one you prefer to walk, these small points all make you who you are and are details that make your story

praising and joining in a little bit of mischief - you know you have to act a certain way, but sometimes, nothing feels better than letting go and playing a cute prank or a game

noticing the tiniest changes in one another, and either raising them as a question, or complimenting them depending on what it is - well-attuned, responsive, kind, attentive

sometimes, you might support different teams, or do so simply for harmless fun, but at the end of the day you find the same goals to score, the same game to place, and will always back each other up and assist towards great successes

8️⃣ taglist: @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @cheollipop @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @ssaboala @jaehunnyy @kitten4sannie @maddkitt @lightinyreads @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @pocketjoong-reads @alyszaen @archivesummer @little-angel-k @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy

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mamayan · 2 years ago

Note

Humbly requesting Yobai with Giyuu (he goes to reader), a lil bit of yandere spice appreciated ✨👀

For you Desi? Anything ♡ This man makes me love the color blue~

★YOBAI☆

Giyuu Tomioka x Fem! Reader

tw: Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Oral (F) • Fingering (F) • Light Overstimulation • Rough Sex • Light Breath Play • Fluff/Humor

YOBAI Series: Kyojuro, Sanemi, Obanai/Mitsuri

Idea given by @rottmntrulesall and continuously inspired by @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi ♡

“I love you.”

He had been too stunned to reply, left frozen like a fool, unable to truly fathom those three simple words. He understood what they meant, but oddly his brain just couldn’t fathom how it factored in him.

You loved him? He wanted to ask you why first and foremost. It left him reeling, because did you mean you loved him like a friend? Did you only love him like family?

Did you love him like a man?

He was moving aimlessly, arms crossed as he stalked the residential streets near his home. His face set in its familiar stoic default, hiding his inner turmoil as his legs carry him down another set of homes.

He’s hardly paying any attention, only reacting to the voice which calls out in the quiet night.

“Tomioka-san? Are you out on a mission?” Colors clash as Giyuu comes face to face with the flame pillar Kyojuro Rengoku.

The man was dressed casually, holding what appeared to be confectioneries from a local shop boxed up in one hand. His gaze was friendly and curious as ever, smile as warm as its owner.

That’s right, Giyuu thought, the flame Hashira had gotten himself engaged had he not? He must have some sort of knowledge of this unfamiliar unfurling within his chest.

It was driving him nearly mad, the way your voice seemed to echo that single sentence on repeat.

“Rengoku-san… you’re experienced in love?” The water pillar’s question struck something weirdly familiar in Kyojuro, as Giyuu moved closer. The dark haired young man looked tired; which, coupled with his expressionless face only aided in aging his appearance.

“Haha! Yes! I am getting married soon!” His boisterous laugh grates on Giyuu’s ears, but he grits his teeth and endures for the sake of figuring all this out.

“Y/N said she loved me…” if Kyojuro hadn’t known the gloomy man for so many years, he might’ve thought Giyuu was scared in the admission.

The flame Hashira just wanted to go home and eat the sweets he bought with his fiancé, not have this conversation in front of his house. His lip twitched, but smile remained as he cautiously prodded further.

“And…?” His smile dropped at Giyuu’s blank face.

“What?” His eye twitched.

“Tomioka-san… did you say anything back?” Kyojuro felt a pang of pity for you as Giyuu shook his head, lips set in a firm line.

“So you just rejected her?” Giyuu’s eyes widened.

“I didn’t reject her…?”

“You did though Tomioka-san.”

Kyojuro wanted to go home, but a strange moral obligation kept him speaking, and for a moment he wondered if his family gave off matchmaker energy.

He’d speak with his father later, for now he focused on aiding his social awkward comrade as quickly as possible.

He felt further conflicted after speaking with Rengoku.

So he spent his free time following you, his thoughts consumed by you, fighting the pull he felt. This couldn’t possibly be healthy or normal, you shouldn’t haunt even his dreams. You respected his space, but every hopeful glance you sent his way sent him spiraling further.

Why did you need to be so lovely? So hard working and dedicated, you spent your days busy and helpful. Giyuu never truly realized how busy a Kakushi’s day could be, but it was possible it was just you.

Were you overworking yourself?

Did you eat breakfast this morning?

You sneeze cutely.

He likes how you laugh.

Your eyes glitter when you see the notes he begins anonymously leaving you, searching anywhere and everywhere, yet never seeing him from his perch in the trees. He likes the game he starts of cat and mouse, amusing himself watching you struggle to figure it out.

You’re quite the detective though, finally bringing out a simple note to show Kocho who recognizes his script.

He still doesn’t reveal himself, avoiding your growing awareness.

He enjoys spending his free time watching over you, dancing around your confession, until someone new appears in your little world.

A male demon slayer, around his own age, asking you on a date.

A romantic one. The sort which leads to engagement and marriage. He nearly pulled his blade, a boiling rage bubbling up and over his top, red flashing through his gaze.

You declined, polite and kind as always, but it didn’t matter. That man spoke to you because Giyuu hadn’t claimed you.

You were his weren’t you? You said you loved him.

Giyuu grit his teeth, face distorted even now as you returned to work and the day faded into night.

Even training was useless, his mind conjuring up images of you with someone else, smiling and directing that soft gaze on them.

His blade came down again, body covered in sweat as he huffs in exhaustion.

It still wasn’t enough. He was trembling from his own emotions attempting to claw through his chest.

He was tired of feeling regret.

The thought of “if I’d only been stronger, arrived sooner, said something” plaguing him until he stood outside your home.

In the middle of the night.

The moon hung as a crescent shining down, surrounded by a sea of stars.

He hadn’t changed out of his uniform, sword still attached to his hip as he moved forward. Gravel crunched under his sandals.

It seemed the closer he got to you, the more agitated he felt.

His hands shaking when he reached the front door, fist clenched and hand raised as if to knock. He froze, realization dawning on how this might look to any nosy neighbors who might be passing by. He slipped around back, away from sight and instead using a side entrance into your home that was left unlocked.

That fact made him uncomfortable as he moved forward on silent feet, his shoes left neatly by the door as he explored in search of your bedroom.

His chest continuing to itch with frustration until he slid the last shoji back to reveal a simple small room. A futon laid in the center where a bundle laid under the covers.

You looked serene, tucked sweetly away in bed and dreaming of something nice if the small smile on your lips was any indication.

He sighed, sitting down beside your bed with one foot propped up to lean on, looking down at you while you dozed.

Almost an hour passed before he grew impatient again, memories of today still on repeat as he tries to calm himself by just looking at you.

Except he didn’t just want to look anymore, he didn’t want to only observe and tease from afar. He wanted to hold you, speak to you, touch you.

He stood silently, taking off his sword and leaning it against your back wall, moving again to stand over your futon where you laid curled in the middle like a sleeping cat. Completely ignorant to his inner turmoil as he kneels before crawling completely over you.

That’s what you awake to, the figure of Giyuu Tomioka looming over you while you slept.

You startle, not immediately recognizing him in your half dreaming state, mouth opening to speak before a hand gently but firmly covers it.

“Don’t scream,” they weren’t very comforting words, your eyes widening fearfully and trying to adjust to the dark room, but it’s the voice which gives your panic pause.

“I just…” he didn’t know what he needed, because it clearly wasn’t just to see or merely touch you anymore. “I wanted to ask if you meant it… back then.” He was grateful the room was dark, his face feeling hot despite the cool air surrounding him.

You weren’t struggling or fighting him, seeming to have realized who he was already. Giyuu released his hold over your mouth, taking in your pretty features painted by dim moonlight with your eyes trained on him.

“I did mean it,” your voice cute and slurred as you sleepily answer, curious and less afraid now that you know who paid you a nightly visit.

Was he here for…? The thought seemed ridiculous, because Giyuu always struck you as a bit reserved, but why else would he be here in the middle of the night asking you about your confession?

You were still tired, but it helped dispel any nerves which might’ve been present had the sun been up. You let your arms raise slowly, as if it might scare the fearsome demon slayer, and wrapped them around his neck.

It pulled him in a little closer, and you could make out his features a little better like this.

His breath stuck in his throat, enamored by your close proximity, your soft sweet scent, and your words.

You meant it.

You wanted him, and while he was overcome with the urge to self-sabotage his happiness and remind you of his flaws, he was stopped by you leaning up.

Your kiss was feather light, just grazing his own for a split second before pulling away.

He chased you though, his own slotting against yours this time, but the force and pressure has you gasping so he could slip his tongue inside your mouth.

You whined but he devoured it as he pushed the hot muscle around with your own, lighting you with the same passion he was feeling.

He let some of his weight drop, pinning you to prevent you from wiggling away from him, letting his thigh spread your own so he could slot himself in between.

Your yukata was in disarray, so when Giyuu’s groin pressed against your own it was only his pants separating him from your sex.

The feeling of something hard and thick pressing against your slick heat had you moaning, fabric sliding and creating delicious friction against your hooded nub. Shocks of pleasure jolted up your skin, but it was Giyuu’s own groan and pause that disrupted the kiss.

He realized there was nothing beneath your sleepwear, your soft thighs naked up to your stomach, and his own body hiding your slit from his view.

You caught your breath, watching as Giyuu lifted up and moved down your body, fingers quickly digging into the plush flesh of your inner thighs when they tried to close.

“Keep them open.” His eyes are narrowed on the expression of arousal and embarrassment you wear, lips titling up a bit as he smooths his hands down to your ass. “Be good for me,” you nearly choke when he says the words, but you really do when his tongue flicks out right over your puffy clit. Fingers dig into the futon while your eyes lock with his own, ensnared by the lewd show he makes of flattening his tongue and dragging it up slowly through your folds, adding pressure when he feels your legs start to shake.

His languid licks grow more fervent by the minute, his own desperation hastening his movements to lap and suck at your clit, before dropping down to prod your entrance with the tip. Your hips jerk, back arching as you grind against his face, slick coating his lips and chin as he eats you like a man starved.

“G-Giyuu, fuck, please,” it takes him a a moment to realize you used his first name, but when he does he nearly swears aloud.

Grunting when he feels your fingers tangle in his dark hair, Giyuu moves his hand around to press a finger against your tight hole, his tongue not stopping his assault on your throbbing nub. He watches you as he sinks his middle finger inside, the way you twitch and whine, lips parted and eyes heavy lidded as you pant.

Giyuu moans as he sinks deeper inside you, the snug fit around even just one finger as your feverish gummy insides massaged it had his hips rutting into the futon below.

He can tell you’re close, it’s not difficult with the way you buck and pull him closer as he adds a second finger, beginning to stretch you out and pump now.

Giyuu curls his fingers, watching it light you up as you cry out, pretty cunt grinding down and trying to seek even more friction as you tremble and moan.

He’d be a liar if he said it didn’t boost his ego.

It’s when a third finger begins to squeeze into your snug walls that you jerk back, his hand wrapped around your thigh and anchoring your hip keeping you from going anywhere though.

He pauses his movements as you pant, looking at your scrunched features as you adjust to the tiny sting.

“You’re being so good for me,” he praises, slowly sinking three of his thick calloused fingers inside of you, “so lovely and all mine, aren’t you?” His voice has dropped an octave as he lazily pumps his digits, soaked by your arousal and sliding in easier and easier as you relax.

Only when your brows unfurl does he smirk and kiss your inner thigh, sticking his tongue out and dragging it against your skin back to the little bundle of nerves.

The feeling of being so full and his tongue just softly tracing over your clit sends you over the edge.

“I-I’m—hah,” your head falls back as the first wave washes over you, gentle but building. The wet squelching of Giyuu still licking and fucking his fingers into you getting louder, as you realize with a shaky inhale that he’s not stopping.

“Giyuu…!” He tightens his grip, brows furrowing as you break his concentration, intent on absolutely devouring you. You might’ve came but he’s not done with your swollen bud or leaking slit, his fingers leaving your entrance in favor of wiggling the powerful muscle in his mouth inside you. Your core spams around it, cries growing as you nearly rip strands of his hair out in your desperation for relief from his mouth. You can’t break his grip on you, the next orgasm striking you like a slap as you cum.

“Mhn—!” Your burning eyes finally blur as tears spill, the ache inside you releasing as pleasure clouds your mind into oblivion.

Giyuu only stops when your shaking subsides, lessening his ministrations as you come down from your second high.

He doesn’t realize it’s him shaking until your muscles go lax and limp in his hold, his hands trembling with restraint as he drags himself back up to look down at your blissed out face.

It’s so cute it nearly enrages him, his hands quickly taking off his haori and uniform, yanking at fabric aggressively as he tries to free his painfully hard cock from the confines of his clothes.

You’re still catching your breath, blinking your blurry vision away only to see Giyuu’s naked torso draping over you as he unties your belt and fully opens your yukata.

Your eyes have fully adjusted now, able to clearly see his toned pale skin on display. Scars littered his pretty skin, hard planes of muscle a testament to his devotion as a slayer, but his steely gaze isn’t cool like the water breathing he uses. Those dark blue pools are boiling as he looks at your soft nude figure, hands quick to grasp your hips and slide up to your chest.

“I’m the only one who gets to see you like this…” his solemn and possessive tone have goosebumps erupting on your skin. The feel of his hands are rough as they trail and dance across your breasts, two fingers coming together to pinch harshly at your nipple, pulling a huffed squeak from your lips as you pout up at him.

He smiles at you.

Not a half smirk or tiny twitch of his lip, but a warm smile filled with adoration, and it leaves you vulnerable for his next attack.

He plants one forearm just above your head, leaning close for a searing slow kiss that was downright filthy in how he lewdly moaned into your mouth. The deep sound reverberating into you as you melt further beneath him.

You’re distracted, boneless legs easily pried further open for his hips as he slides closer to you, his free hand letting the reddened soft tip of his cock brush through your soaked lower lips.

You jolt at the sensation, the heat of his body taking you by surprise, but his mouth follows when you pull back, biting down on your lower lip and licking the sting away when you whine.

Then you feel pressure, at first odd but not painful. Giyuu huffs against your mouth as your walls crush the tip of his cock as he pushes in.

“Relax for me, let me in,” he’s fighting hard not to just shove entirely inside you in one thrust. Your warm and soft body leaving his head muddled as he pulls out, before pushing in again, working himself deeper inch by inch.

Your clammy palms find his biceps, fingers digging into the hard muscle as you try to obey and relax for him, but you can’t help when you clamp down with the feeling of being invaded by his burning rod continually shoving into you. He wasn’t outright painfully thick, but his length far surpassed his fingers as his cock pushed your limits before he was fully seated inside, tip pushing up your cervix to fit completely while your legs trembled and tensed around him.

“Y/N,” you didn’t mean to close your eyes, just consumed with concentrating on getting used to him, when a large palm cupped your cheek and encouraged you to look up. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, flushed and heaving for breath just from feeling you squeeze around him, brows taunt as he gazes at you with those softening eyes.

“Am I hurting you?” You shake your head, because it didn’t hurt, he was just stretching you out so much it was leaving you reeling.

He seemed to understand as he chuckles, kissing your temple as his hips slowly drag out of you, each vein on his cock rubbing in his exit. Your nails bite deeper into his skin, your exhale of breath sharp before he shifted and nudged a new spot that made you moan.

“There?” He’s not actually asking you. Not when he sinks back in, watching your every expression while gauging where that spot was.

He brushes it with his tip, the spongey area making you clench and slacken in the same moment, toes curling as the thickness inside seems almost unbearable before feeling so good your own hips rock up to meet his thrust.

“You’re so tight,” his hair has come loose from the ponytail he keeps it in, thick strands tickling your collarbone where they drop, his shoulder muscles taunt with pent up energy as he begins a steady pace inside of you, letting your slick glide him into your narrow hole. His eyes flicking up and drinking in the almost drunk expression on your pretty face, adoring how you both seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces.

“G-Giyuu,” your panting little moans are speeding up with his thrusts, the room becoming sweltering as your bodies collide, his groin coming flush against your ass with each loud smack of his balls. His hand tangles in the blanket below, gripping the fabric as he concentrates on not filling you up carelessly. His free hand moves up your hip where he’d been holding you, brushing over your sensitive nipples teasingly before gently wrapping around your throat.

One of your hands wrap around his wrist, cautious and curious of why he was holding you like this, but not fighting when he lightly squeezes the sides of your throat.

“Oh,” you moan, voice a little hoarse and softer than usual as you feel your head go light and airy while the intense pleasure inside of you spikes. His cock spearing and bullying your insides as he groans, your pussy only becoming tighter as he restricts your blood flow lightly, watching your fucked out face in fascination. His own isn’t any better but you’re not paying attention, only caring about the bubble expanding inside your belly again, his cock threatening to pop it at any second, his lower half soaked in your slick as it slides down your ass and onto the futon.

“Are you going to cum for me?” His expression is nearly pained as he restraints himself, smirking as you senselessly babble something incoherent but your nails scrape sharply over his skin and help clear his mind. He shifts even closer, forcing himself to hunch over you while he releases your throat and grips under your knees.

You cry out as he lifts your legs up, pressing your knees almost to your collarbone while he drills your cunt, his feet digging into the futon below as he has you in a mating press. His nose nearly brushes yours, so close but far as he grunts and slams into you, the new angle increasing the tightness, your walls milking him while he fucks you stupid.

“Fuck—m’gonna cum, Giyuu!” Your eyes roll back, insides clamping down and seizing around him while you gush, cream forming around the base of his cock while he pants, teeth grit while he focuses on drawing out your release as long as he can. “N-no more, please!” You nearly wail as his cock overstimulates you, still brushing against that spot inside that has you seeing white.

He takes mercy this time, pulling out so quickly your hole is left gaping for a moment as he sits back and grips his cock and works himself fiercely over you, grunting and biting down on his lip while his balls draw up tight and he shoots ropes of hot cum over your dripping pussy and lower belly. Using his tip to smear it over your swollen lips as he groans.

You watch quietly, body still thrumming with euphoria from your orgasm as Giyuu finishes too, looking ruined as he finishes on you before nearly collapsing too.

He lets himself fall to his side, one arm reaching out and dragging you against him despite both your sweaty figures. He holds you tightly while you both calm, your heartbeat slowing as exhaustion takes hold and your eyes droop.

As a Hashira, he’s quick to recover, and while he could certainly stand to take you two or three more times, he instead relishes in the feel of holding you against him so intimately.

You’re asleep in minutes, breathing even as you doze against his chest.

He closes his eyes, letting his forehead drop against the crown of your head, whispering quietly what you fell asleep too quickly to hear.

“I love you too…” he’ll say it again when you wake.

“Thank you,” Kyojuro looks up from the training dummy he’d just destroyed, gaze landing with surprise on the water Hashira standing awkwardly before him, not looking at him.

Giyuu stood with his arms crossed staring off into the distance, reminding Kyojuro of an old man with the sort of serene gaze only the elderly possessed.

“Ah! You’re welcome haha! You took my advice?” His bright eyes widened, quite shocked in truth.

Giyuu merely nodded, turning to walk away having said his gratitude now.

Kyojuro didn’t stop him, still amazed his half-assed terrible advice had actually worked. Unlike his younger brother who was quite beloved and well known by the corps, Kyojuro could care less about Giyuu’s emotional constipation.

He’d told him to stop being a coward and act like a man.

You never did find out that Giyuu’s “night crawling” act was in fact just his strange way of coming to tell you his feelings before he could talk himself out of it and lose you to another.

Your kiss just initiated what he’d been holding back. ♡

Giyuu’s face whenever he sees that other slayer who tried to ask you out.

Post dividers/ @saradika

#Yan loves Desi #see what I did there?#request filled #Giyuu Tomioka #Giyuu Tomioka smut #Yobai Giyuu #Kny Giyuu smut #Giyuu smut #kny Giyuu Tomioka x reader #Giyuu Tomioka x reader smut #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba smut #kny smut #kny x reader #kny x reader smut #Yan is sick of fucking tagging already #kny x kakushi reader

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eraofprocrastination · 29 days ago

Text

was adding an obnoxiously long reblog to @stygianfalcatasword's post about the opening of House of Hades and now I'm reflecting on the impact of middle-grade books when I was a middle-grade-aged reader so here's an essay, enjoy.

I was one of those kids that got into the YA genre before even becoming a teenager and I'm only now realizing that it's because teen fantasy/fiction had so much more emotional rawness to it that I needed to see. Even though it wasn't my intended age range, I needed characters who experienced rage and held grudges and felt depressed. And I could only find those in YA novels.

The thing is, a lot of people will joke about "oh so you got into smut early? join the club." I am asexual. It has never been and never will be about the smut. Plenty of middle-grade books had (straight) romance. It was never about the love stories, either.

It was about the fact that I was a 12-year-old who needed to turn to 16 to 18-year-old characters to find people whose emotional states felt "relatable." I already had a good dose of trauma by that age, so reading your standard Middle School Adventure series didn't hold a lot of interest for me, particularly because the characters were written by these adult authors as Happy Innocent Children who maybe cry when things get bad.

There were very very few middle-grade characters who felt grief and rage and injustice. I grew up reading kid's magazine articles about climate change and the extinction of the white rhino and the fact that a penny costs more than a penny to make. I understood the unfairness around me far better than the characters in the books I read, so I looked for books with darker themes and angrier worlds because those just made sense.

Call me cynical and jaded or whatever, but I think that adults constantly underestimate the amount of responsibility and anger that "young kids" are able to feel, especially within classroom environments where acting out emotionally is so forbidden. As a middle schooler, I felt like my "inner world" was messed up because it didn't match what all the adults around me were telling me I should see.

So yes I loved reading YA fantasy (even with unnecessary smut), because at least these were characters who felt their pain and could take action about it. I could find girls who felt anger and swung their swords about it. I could read about corrupt government and world-level crises and then put myself into the heads of the teenagers/adults who had to handle those things.

I read books about mental health crises and suicide because I understood them and needed to see characters reflect that. I heard a lot of "oh so it's the books that are making you feel depressed?" and NO, I read those books about depression because I felt depressed and I needed reassurance that people do in fact experience that. I read books about queer characters because I was queer — they didn't make me queer. I went looking for stories that reflected my experiences, and there weren't many in my age range. So what did I do? Age myself up.

And all of those books were intended for 16-18 year olds and I was 12 and I Did Not Care because no literary 12yo was feeling what I was feeling.

Not a lot of authors in the younger category understood what kind of responsibility and emotional turmoil a person can develop within the first decade-and-a-half of life.

This comes back to why Rick Riordan's writing is so deeply beloved to me, because he takes these children who are already relatable through their personalities (I could do a whole other rant about personality diversity) and then throws in truckloads of trauma and balances it all out well enough for it to be appropriate reading for an eleven-year-old.

With RR books, I didn't have to risk the "what if there's smut/violence/*enter other triggers here*" game in order to find mental states that resembled mine — because I did understand on some level that even though the YA books were more relatable, they were still pretty damaging in terms of material.

I could be 9 and open up The Lightning Thief and Luke would already be embittered against the gods. I could be 12 and read about Reyna's trauma and unresolved anger, and Percy's willingness to commit several murders, and Nico's shame about his sexuality, and every character's survivor's guilt/depression/justice complex — and still have what was essentially a fun middle-grade book.

Because somehow RR understands that yeah, there are 13yo kids out there who feel rage to the levels of wanting at least the catharsis of reading a literary murder, but those kids also need to laugh and smile about giants being hit in the eye by blue plastic hairbrushes.

Anyway I think this is a big reason that the YA genre has had such a huge boom recently and also why people tend to look down on kid's lit despite the gems in it. There's a whole complex of being "intellectually/emotionally superior" if you read YA over middle grade because middle grade books are shallow.

But middle schoolers are not shallow!!! They are complex, developing human beings!!! And we don't see that accurately portrayed in books!!! Stop being cynical about the amount of violence a book needs for it not to be shallow. The Game of Thrones series (I'm judging by the show) counters that mindset very nicely.

I do understand that there's a need for happier stories in kid's lit but I would argue that there's a dearth of them in adult literature. And there are plenty of ways to characterize, humanize and validate pre-teens and early teens without throwing in violence.

There just has to be a lot more understanding in regards to what those age ranges know about their world.

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antimatterz · 2 years ago

Text

solace

dan heng x gn!reader

summary: life has gotten you down, but he won't let you give up. he's there to hold you together, and he won't let go.

cw: suicidal thoughts – do not read if this triggers you. hurt/comfort, dan heng being the sweetest.

enyo's note: don't mind me this is very self-indulgent. i'm not in a good place at the moment and i would love a dan heng to help me through it. not proofread & might take it down, actually.

content under the cut | masterlist

the world had gotten you down.

ultimately, fighting your mental battles got the best of you. for aeons, you had been fighting the demons in your mind. day after day, you struggled to fend off the darkness, but the shadows that shrouded your inner flame had won. you had been tearing at the seams for months, but you finally broke.

your thoughts were dark, consuming you whole. you were suffering, all on your own. why did life bring nothing but turmoil? you wanted peace, you wanted to enjoy being alive, you wanted to serve a genuine smile to the people around you. but your demeanor was fake, nothing but an act you carefully put on to fool the others. again, you carried your burdens on your own, and you succumbed underneath the heavy weight of it all.

you no longer experienced happiness, all you felt was gloom and misery. you were hopeless, frustrated, frantically holding on to the final strands of light that were rapidly vanishing. honestly, why were you even still alive?

maybe giving up wasn't that bad.

those thoughts pestered you as you spent your time alone in your room. you had reached your breaking point and distanced yourself from your friends. you didn't have the energy left to put on an act, you couldn't muster a fake smile anymore. it was game over for you. life had won.

you had no more tears left to cry as you lay in bed, curled up into a little ball. you've spent the last few hours like that, staring ahead as you let the darkness consume you.

you hadn't eaten today, and your stomach felt empty. but what did it matter? you felt empty in general, you had gotten used to it and it didn't bother you anymore. you deftly ignored it, not even motivated to take care of yourself properly. what did it matter, anyway? you didn't care.

there was a knock on your door, one that you didn't respond to. you didn't want to see anyone, let alone have to explain your miserable state. you chose to suffer alone, after all, not wanting to worry the others. your burdens were yours to carry, you didn't want to bother them with it.

again, the idea of giving up crossed your mind – like it did every other minute. all your struggles, all your burdens, everything would be gone and you would finally have peace. you didn't have any hope left for things getting better. what was the point of trying? maybe life wasn't meant for you. clearly, your mind wasn't wired for this world.

whoever it was at your door knocked again, but you remained silent. you were so far gone, wallowing in the darkness. however, the person didn't give up, and the door carefully slid open.

"y/n?" a familiar voice called out.

you said nothing, not turning around even when dan heng shut the door behind him. footsteps inched closer, increasing speed as he neared your bed.

the mattress dipped under his weight as he sat down.

"march was worried about you because she hasn't seen you in two days," the male explained, hesitating for a moment. "and honestly, so am i. this is very unlike you. are you okay?"

hearing his voice was nice, you had to admit that. it was true; you hadn't spoken to anyone for the past two days, which was sure to raise concern. although you still weren't sure if you were in the mood to face anyone, you still sat up, aversively facing dan heng. you considered lying, simply playing it off as the flu that got you down. but one look into his solemn grey eyes swayed you from your original plan.

"no," you replied, voice breaking. "no, i'm not okay."

dan heng's usually stoic face fell, genuine concern falling upon his features. you must've looked terrible – tired, dead on the inside, dull eyes. your will to live was close to zero at the moment, and it was probably very obvious from the way you looked at him.

he searched your eyes, as if they would tell him what was wrong. for some reason, the way he gazed at you had you feeling vulnerable, tears welling up in your eyes. you felt your will to remain strong in front of others faltering, and it wasn't long before the first sob racked your body.

"hey," dan heng said, surprise lingering his tone. he was quick to reach out and grab your hand, completely dropping his usually cold and distant demeanor. "y/n, what's wrong?"

"everything," you admitted shakily. "dan heng, why is life so hard? why is it trying so hard to bring me down? it's not fair, i try so hard but it just doesn't get better." you were silent for a moment, wondering if you were really going to admit your darkest thoughts to him. you pursed your lips. what did it matter? what was stopping you? maybe it was nice to confide in someone. especially dan heng, the one you considered your closest friend. you continued, "the idea of giving up becomes stronger with every moment that passes. i don't want to live like this anymore."

the raven-haired male seemed genuinely shocked by your confession. his eyes widened, but he quickly recollected himself and shot forward like a bullet fired from a gun. you stumbled back in surprise, but he caught you before you could fall. ever so gently, he cupped your cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away the tears that spilled.

"y/n, i had no idea you were going through this," dan heng mumbled. "why did you pretend to be happy all the time? why didn't you tell anyone about your suffering?"

"i don't know," you said, lightly shaking your head. "i guess i just didn't want to worry anyone. what goes on in my head isn't pretty. i just kept telling myself it would be better to disappear and–"

"stop right there," the male hushed you, removing one hand from your cheek to press his index finger against your lips. "you're very important to me, angel. i don't want you to suffer alone and even more, i do not want you to go."

there was nothing left of his usual placid demeanor, and the look in his eyes was soft as he gazed at you. it almost made you tear up again, this time for entirely different reasons. this side of dan heng was completely new to you, and it lit a small spark within you. you leaned into his touch carefully, closing your eyes in a small moment of peace. the storm in your mind ceased for a blissful second, and you relished in the feeling dan heng brought you.

"listen, y/n. please don't do this to yourself. please, just reach out to me if your thoughts threaten to get the best of you. you don't have to carry everything on your own. you have march, you have me. and there's welt and himeko. we're a family, we are here for you and wouldn't be complete without you."

dan heng looked at you intently, and you nodded. he was right, you had lost sight of your reasons to live, but he reminded you. you had your astral express family, you had dan heng – who just came to save you from your darkest moment.

letting out a small sigh, he wrapped your arms around you and gently pulled you down with him. you lay like that, safely in his embrace. you felt your inner flame light up a little, and faint strands of hope intertwined with the darkness that occupied your mind, shining a new light. dan heng probably had no idea what he just did. suddenly the idea of ending it all lost its appeal, as if dan heng's embrace mended the pieces of you that had been shattered. he held you together, he saved you from falling apart. you gathered your thoughts, gathered your will, bringing new life to what seemed hopeless at first.

"thank you," you muttered, your voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

in response, dan heng gently kissed the top of your head. the loving gesture brought a faint smile to your face – tiny, barely there, but genuine. he was right, you weren't alone.

dan heng was your solace.

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai #dan heng #— enyo writes #dan heng x reader #honkai: star rail #hsr dan heng #dan heng hsr #honkai dan heng #dan heng imagine #dan heng imagines #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n

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almostwisegalaxy · 3 months ago

Text

The Intransigence of Silence_2

Actor x fem!reader

Reader has a bit of a shy character in this story

Music to listen to for the atmosphere: So far away_ Martin Garrix x David Guetta

Part 3

Part 2

Part 1

Enjoy y'all ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

..................................................................................

The Next Day

Y/n entered the studio the next day, her stomach in knots. Each step felt heavier than the last. She had spent the night replaying their exchanges, searching for meaning in the intensity that consumed her every time she locked eyes with the actor. She knew he was right: she could no longer ignore what burned between them.

Yet, she didn’t know what to do about it. She wasn’t just a young actress trying to make a name for herself; she was his student, under his guidance. And he… he was everything she wasn’t. Powerful, experienced, unattainable.

When she arrived, he was already there. He stood facing a row of mirrors, hands in his pockets, looking distant. But as soon as he noticed her, his gaze darkened slightly, betraying an inner turmoil he struggled to hide.

“You came,” he said simply, his eyes never leaving her.

“Yes,” she replied, her voice softer than she intended.

A heavy silence settled between them, but this time, it wasn’t the usual silence of their mentor-student dynamic. It was something else—something deeper, more fragile.

They began rehearsing. The actor, true to form, corrected every movement, every inflection. But y/n could feel something had shifted. He was still demanding, but his critiques seemed less biting, more measured. She felt his gaze on her—not as a mentor assessing a student, but as a man observing a woman.

She tried to focus on her role, but her mind was elsewhere. She caught him glancing away several times, as if he were struggling to maintain a distance.

Finally, as she performed a particularly intense scene, he abruptly interrupted.

“Stop.”

Y/n straightened, her breath uneven. “What’s wrong?”

He crossed his arms, hesitating. Then he spoke, his voice quieter than usual:

“You’re acting like you’re afraid. Afraid of what? Me? Yourself?”

His words hit her like a blow. She looked down, unable to respond.

“Do you want to know why I told you to drop this role?” he continued, his voice hardening slightly. “It’s not because I doubt you. It’s because you’re not ready to face what it demands. You’re brilliant, y/n, but you’re still fragile. And this world—” He paused, searching for the right words. “This world will destroy you if you show yourself to the public before you’re strong enough.”

She looked up, and for the first time, she saw a glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes.

“And you, sir?” she asked softly. “Do you think you’re not part of what could destroy me?”

He flinched but didn’t answer immediately.

“Maybe I am,” he admitted at last, his voice barely audible. “Maybe I’m your worst enemy in all of this. But if I had to choose between breaking you a little to make you stronger or watching you fail because I did nothing… I’d always choose the first option.”

Y/n felt a wave of conflicting emotions rise within her. She wanted to scream, to cry, to tell him she didn’t want to be his project, his creation. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t just that.

“And what if I don’t want to be strong on your terms?” she whispered.

He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on hers, his expression unreadable.

“Then tell me, y/n. Tell me what you want. Really.”

She remained silent, frozen under his intense stare. Part of her wanted to tell him she wanted to run, to be free of him, of his hold over her. But another part, deeper and more honest, knew she wanted something else entirely.

Finally, she replied, her voice trembling:

“I want you to let me make my own choices.”

The actor stepped back slightly, as if her words had struck him. But instead of retreating, he stepped forward again, closing the gap between them to almost nothing.

“Then make a choice now,” he murmured. “But know this—if you stay here, if you keep following me, listening to me, challenging me… there won’t be any boundaries left. Not between you and me.”

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest. He was so close, yet he made no move, spoke no further words. It was up to her to decide.

She could have walked away. She could have ended it all. But instead, she took a step forward, closing the last bit of space between them.

They stood motionless, the tension between them almost unbearable. Then, slowly, he raised a hand and brushed her face—a gesture both tender and hesitant.

“Y/n…” he whispered, as if warning her, but he said nothing more.

She closed her eyes, letting her breath sync with his. And for the first time, she felt like she had taken back control. Not over him, but over herself.

When she opened her eyes, she said simply:

“I’m staying.”

And this time, it was he who looked away, defeated.

---

She had barely spoken the words when he gently, yet firmly, took hold of her. One hand slid behind her neck, the other brushed her arm. The kiss was everything they were: intense, controlled, yet overflowing with a passion that had been suppressed for far too long. There was no hesitation, no awkward uncertainty. It was as though all the tension that had built up had finally found its release.

Y/n found herself suspended in that moment, her mind flooded with contradictions. But when he pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her gaze, she saw in his eyes a humanity he had always tried to conceal.

"I can’t turn back anymore, y/n," he murmured. "And neither can you."

She opened her mouth to respond, but he shook his head, almost regretfully.

"You need to understand—if you choose to stay, there’s no going back."

She didn’t need to think. Her voice trembled slightly, but her words were clear.

"I’m staying."

From that moment, their relationship changed. During rehearsals, they were still mentor and student, the palpable tension between them hidden under a veneer of professional rigor. But when they were alone, in the shadows of backstage or after long sessions of work, the boundaries disappeared.

The actor, usually a master of self-control, occasionally allowed brief moments of tenderness to slip through: a hand brushing hers under the guise of giving advice, a look that lingered a second too long. Y/n, on the other hand, felt a newfound strength. She was no longer just under his influence. She had gained a certain equality in their strange dance.

But their secret was fragile. Other actors began to notice something had changed. Whispers grew louder, more insistent. Yet neither y/n nor the actor let the rumors destabilize them. Their bond, though discreet, seemed unbreakable.

A few months later, the film y/n had auditioned for—and that the actor had forced her to abandon—was finally released. It was a disaster. The reviews were ruthless, criticizing the lack of depth in the performances, the weak script, and the absence of chemistry between the lead actors.

In the studio, conversations revolved around this failure. Some of her former colleagues now looked at her with envy, as if her absence from the fiasco had suddenly validated her place among them.

The actor observed all of this in silence. One evening, as they were alone after a long day of rehearsals, he placed a newspaper on the table in front of her. On the front page was a scathing review of the film.

"Did you read it?" he asked calmly.

Y/n nodded, avoiding his gaze.

"I don’t feel any satisfaction, if that’s what you’re wondering."

He leaned against the table, arms crossed.

"This isn’t about satisfaction. It’s a lesson."

She looked up, intrigued. He continued:

"Do you see what happens when you rush into something to prove something to everyone except yourself? It’s not about talent. It’s about timing, about preparation."

Y/n remained silent for a moment, absorbing his words. She knew he was right. But deep down, another question burned within her.

"And if I had been ready? If I’d gotten the role? Would it have changed anything?"

The actor stared at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers. Then, he knelt down to her level, so they were eye to eye.

"I never stopped you from taking that role because I doubted you, y/n. I stopped you because I knew it wasn’t worthy of you."

She felt her eyes well up, but he gently placed a hand on her knee—a gesture that seemed to say, No tears, not here.

"One day," he added, "when you’re ready, it’ll be you the critics praise. Not because of me. Because of you. And on that day, you’ll understand why I pushed you this hard."

From that moment, their relationship entered a new phase. The actor became even more demanding, but also more invested. He poured himself into every detail of her training, pushing her further than she thought possible, but never breaking her.

Y/n, for her part, grew in confidence. She no longer saw him just as a mentor or a man she admired, but as an ally—someone who believed in her even when she doubted herself.

But lurking in the shadows of their connection was a persistent tension. They had crossed a line, and though they tried to conceal their relationship, they both knew the day would come when they would have to face the consequences of their choices.

For now, they moved forward together, united by a complex mix of ambition, desire, and mutual respect.

---

Their relationship had imperceptibly, but undeniably, changed. The actor remained true to himself: demanding, distant in the eyes of the world, but with a softness that surfaced when they were alone. Yet, he never made overt gestures—no grand declarations or romantic promises. His affection was visible in the details: the way he held her a moment too long during a correction, a lingering glance, or a murmured phrase that hung in the air long after he’d spoken it.

Y/n, for her part, felt overwhelmed. She never knew how to respond to these stolen moments: the thrill of a hand brushing hers, a quick kiss in the shadows of a hallway, the intensity of his gaze that seemed to unravel every thought she tried to hide. She continued to address him formally, clinging to it as a fragile form of control over something that felt so unstable.

One evening, after a late rehearsal, the actor offered to drive her home. They were alone in his car, enveloped in a charged silence. The city blurred around them, but all she felt was the warmth radiating from him—so close and yet so distant.

When he stopped in front of her apartment, he turned off the engine but didn’t move. Y/n, hesitant, opened the door, but his hand firmly stopped her.

“Wait.”

She turned to him, surprised. His gaze was steady, burning, yet unreadable.

“You can’t keep running away,” he said softly, almost reproachfully.

She furrowed her brow. “Running away? I don’t understand.”

He sighed, and then, suddenly, he leaned closer. His kiss was intense, full of the tension he had been holding back for weeks. Her hands instinctively found his shoulders, but she didn’t push him away. When he finally pulled back, she was speechless.

“Stop addressing me so formally,” he murmured, his voice husky. “You’re not a stranger to me anymore, y/n.”

She blinked, trying to compose herself. “It’s… a habit.”

“Change it,” he replied, his tone commanding but his gaze betraying a certain tenderness.

After that night, something shifted between them. The kisses became more frequent, though always fleeting, almost stolen. When they were alone in the rehearsal room, he would sometimes surprise her, pulling her close just to brush her lips with his before resuming his role as her mentor as though nothing had happened.

Y/n felt disarmed by these moments but clung to them nonetheless, unable to deny the effect he had on her. He never told her he loved her, but every gesture, every look seemed to scream it in his place.

One day, while she was rehearsing alone, he entered without a word. He stood watching, arms crossed, until she stopped, flustered.

“Why are you always so nervous around me?” he asked, his tone almost teasing.

She averted her eyes. “I’m not nervous.”

He approached slowly, a faint smirk on his lips. “Then why do you still refuse to speak to me informally?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but he placed a finger on her lips, silencing her.

“No excuses. Just… say my name.”

She flushed deeply. “Actor.”

He nodded, satisfied. Then, before she could say anything more, he kissed her again—this time slowly, savoring every second.

They began spending more time together away from the studio. A hidden café tucked in a quiet alley. A late-night stroll through the city. One day, he took her to a nearly deserted park where they sat in silence, simply sharing each other’s presence.

He had a way of touching her—not possessively, but protectively. A hand on the small of her back as they walked side by side. A strand of hair tucked behind her ear, his gaze burning when she looked up at him.

One evening, after one of their outings, she murmured, “I still don’t understand why you chose me.”

He frowned, clearly displeased. “Stop. It’s not about choice. It’s you, y/n. You, and nothing else.”

She didn’t respond, but that night, she fell asleep with his words etched into her mind.

Their relationship was discreet but had taken root. The actor, despite his usual cold demeanor, showed flashes of warmth that only y/n saw. He teased her occasionally, but his words always carried a truth that touched her deeply.

“You’re much stronger than you think,” he told her one day after she nailed a particularly difficult scene.

She lowered her eyes, but he tilted her chin up with a finger. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you. Believe me, y/n.”

She nodded, unable to reply. But in her heart, something shifted.

Their days became intertwined with tender gestures and stolen moments. She was slowly growing accustomed to calling him by his name, though it still felt awkward. He, on the other hand, seemed to take subtle pleasure in watching her soften.

One night, as they shared a late dinner in a small restaurant, she caught him staring at her.

“What?” she asked, self-conscious.

“Nothing,” he replied, a faint smile on his lips. “Just you.”

And in those moments, y/n knew she could never go back.

---

After months of relentless effort, y/n finally landed a role in a big-budget series. It wasn’t a lead role but a pivotal character integral to the storyline. The role demanded a complex emotional range and a magnetic presence, and y/n knew she had to give it her all.

To her surprise, the actor approved without hesitation. When she shared the news with him, he fixed her with his piercing gaze, and for the first time in a long while, a genuine smile lit up his face.

“Good,” he said simply, but his voice carried pride. “This is the right role. One that will challenge you, but also make you shine.”

In the following days, the actor became more involved in her preparation. There was no longer any restraint in his encouragement, though his critiques remained just as sharp.

One evening, after a long rehearsal session, he looked at her intently. “Do you know what I admire about you, y/n?”

She looked up, surprised by the question, but didn’t answer.

“Your ability to turn fear into energy. Even when you think you’ve reached your limit, you keep digging deeper. That’s what makes you unique.”

His words warmed her heart, and a new wave of motivation surged within her.

Their relationship, already intense, became even more intimate. There were fleeting gestures—a hand brushing her arm as he passed by, a rare but genuine smile when she nailed a scene.

They spent more and more time together outside of rehearsals. The actor, usually reserved, slowly opened up to her. One evening, after a particularly productive session, he took her to a quiet, hidden restaurant, far from prying eyes.

“Why here?” she asked, intrigued.

“Because it’s peaceful. And you deserve to breathe.”

They dined in silence, but it was a comfortable silence, filled with mutual understanding.

As they stepped out, he suddenly stopped under a glowing sign. Y/n looked at him, puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

He leaned slightly toward her, his eyes burning with emotions he usually kept so well hidden.

“Stop being so formal with me,” he murmured, his voice low and insistent.

She flushed, looking away. “It’s a habit…”

“A habit I hate,” he replied softly, but with an intensity that made her heart race. “When you’re with me, be yourself. Not some polite version.”

She nodded timidly, but the moment stayed etched in her memory.

When filming began, y/n poured all her energy into the role. The scenes were demanding, but she knew this was her chance to prove she belonged in this world.

Though the actor wasn’t directly involved in the production, he often visited the set to support her. He stayed in the background, but she always felt his gaze on her, watching intently.

One day, after a particularly challenging scene, he waited for her outside.

“You did well today,” he said, placing a light hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her heart racing under his touch.

But he didn’t remove his hand. Instead, he let it slide to her cheek, gently guiding her to meet his eyes. “You know I’m proud of you, don’t you?”

She bursts into tears. No one has ever expressed such emotions to her. She takes refuge against his chest, serving him tightly against her.

Their connection grew more palpable, almost tangible. They didn’t talk about their feelings, but their gestures spoke volumes. A stolen kiss in a dark alley after a long evening of rehearsals. A quiet walk in a deserted park. A fleeting exchange of glances while working together.

One night, as they sat in y/n’s small apartment, he kissed her gently, almost hesitantly, as if to ensure she wanted it as much as he did.

“You know,” he murmured against her lips, “you drive me crazy sometimes.”

She laughed softly, resting her head against his chest. “You’re the one saying that?”

“Yes,” he replied, his tone serious. “Because you’re everything I didn’t know I was looking for.”

When the series premiered, y/n was praised for her performance. Critics highlighted the depth she brought to her character, and her name began circulating in the industry as a rising star.

The actor watched her progress with a mix of pride and admiration. But he didn’t shower her with unnecessary praise.

“This is only the beginning,” he told her one night after a particularly successful premiere.

“I know,” she replied, a confident smile on her lips.

But this time, she knew she could face anything. Because he was by her side—not as a mentor or a guide, but as an equal.

---

y/n had come a long way since her role in the series. Offers were pouring in—interviews, magazine covers, proposals for new roles. She had become one of the most sought-after actresses of the moment. Yet, despite the whirlwind of success, there was one constant through it all: the actor. He was always there, always quietly in the background, but never too far away.

That night, there was a premiere he had to attend, a prestigious event for the release of his new film. He was the star of the evening, the headliner. But it wasn’t the spotlight he was seeking. No, his eyes searched the crowd endlessly, looking for a particular face.

y/n was there, radiant in her simple but elegant black dress. She seemed different—not in appearance but in the energy surrounding her. She was confident, independent, and it shone in every movement she made. The actor watched her from afar, a profound sense of pride swelling within him. He had always known she had incredible potential, but what he saw that night exceeded anything he had ever imagined.

For the first time, he didn’t mind not being the center of attention. He was content to simply observe y/n, like a lucky spectator, marveling at how she captivated the room with her mere presence.

The evening came to an end, and the two of them found themselves alone in the actor’s car, the road nearly deserted under the starry sky. The city lights sparkled through the windows, but inside the car, everything felt calm. The silence between them was now comfortable, imbued with a softness that hadn’t existed before.

y/n, tired but happy, stared out the window. The night had been a turning point for her, and though she had savored every moment, she felt moved by the actor’s presence, as if the evening wasn’t complete without him.

When they arrived at her apartment, y/n hesitated for a moment, suddenly feeling nervous. Something in the air felt different tonight. She stepped out of the car, thanking him with a simple smile, and headed toward the door. But before she could close it behind her, she felt pressure against it. The actor gently stopped her from shutting it.

He stood there, just behind her, but the space between them felt immense. He stared at the ground for a moment, as if searching for the right words, before finally meeting her gaze. His eyes, usually so controlled, betrayed a mix of intensity and vulnerability.

“You know…” he began, his voice low, almost a whisper. “Tonight, I saw an incredible woman shine under lights that didn’t even do her justice.” He paused, as if each word needed to carry the weight of his feelings. “And I realized how lucky I’ve been to see you grow.”

y/n stayed silent, her heart pounding in her chest. She hadn’t expected this moment to be the one where everything changed, but looking back, she couldn’t deny what had been building between them.

He took a step closer, closing the distance between them, and the world seemed to freeze around them. “I love you,” he finally said, the words falling slowly between them, like a confession that had been held back for far too long.

y/n felt her knees weaken, as if that simple admission had lifted some of the weight she had been carrying for so long. She looked at him, her eyes glistening with emotion, unable to respond immediately. But she didn’t need words. Her hands rose on their own, finding his.

Before she could say anything, he leaned in and kissed her—a soft, almost tentative kiss at first, but it quickly deepened into something more fervent, more intense. It was as if all the months of waiting, all the unsaid words, had found their release in this silent yet profoundly meaningful moment.

He followed her inside the apartment, without another word, but none were needed. The actor sat on the couch while she prepared to relax after the long evening. He watched her every movement, every gesture, as if trying to memorize every detail.

When y/n finally settled beside him, he took her hand gently, without urgency. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he said, his voice sincere. “But I didn’t know how to say all of this before.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, her heart overflowing with conflicting emotions. “Neither did I,” she admitted before turning her face to him with a shy smile.

“You’ve changed a lot. You’re stronger now,” he continued.

“No,” she replied softly. “I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Her words hung in the air, filled with truth. Their relationship had evolved, and she now knew that, despite all the doubts and struggles, she was ready to move forward with him—not just as a mentor or a protégé, but as something more, something real.

He pulled her gently toward him, kissing her once more, but this time, it was slower, more deliberate. There were no barriers left between them, no unspoken words to hold back. The boundaries of their relationship had dissolved, and they were no longer two individuals separated by roles. They were simply themselves, together.

---

That night, the truth of their feelings was finally laid bare in the form of a kiss and the simple yet profound words they exchanged.

..................................................................................

Tag List:

@elizalabs3 @slvt4her

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lullabyalikpoptarot · 5 months ago

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Le SSerafim Thoughts on Being an Idol

Okay, on to another group for this series. I am always interested in tea of the industry, so let's see what these girlies have to say, if anything, because some remain tight lipped.

Chaewon

What she likes? (10 of Swords) Why this card girl? Why am I getting, the ability to rest after a long hard day, but why is that a like? She may like the ending of a difficult period, the ability to move past those hard times. Interesting.

What she doesn't like? (5 of Wands) This makes sense, the turmoil, the competition, the aggression, the inner conflicts. She doesn't like how aggressive and competitive people can be.

What she has experienced/learned in the past? (Temperance/The Devil) Making a deal with the devil is what this gives me, compromising herself and morals. The Devil card in this deck is so telling, I just noticed the money on the ground of the deck, it is like they are the company's money maker and property, they are chained to it all, restricted in a sense. Oh damn, this went somewhere. Not liking this vibe.

Thoughts on fans? (Wheel of Fortune) They bring her luck, opportunity, money. They help move her in a positive direction.

Sakura

What she likes? (The Emperor) The power and control she can get from this, not sure how girl, but okay. She is able to tune into her masculine power as an idol. There could be a man in power she likes as well, not sure where that is coming from. This one made no sense to me.

What she doesn't like? (King of Pentacles) The greedy people on the top, the fact that she has to cater to them, bend her will to them. She is giving me that she is a very strong, determined woman and hate bowing down to people, maybe especially men. It is like she hates that all they care about is money and not them too much, they are like property.

What she has experienced/learned from the past? (4 of Cups) What the hell does this company offer them? She learned to take offers she doesn't really want or feel any emotions for. She also learned to keep herself busy, so she doesn't have to reflect too much on things. Okay, so I got the message, mind diluted, had to look that up, so they either offer them some concoction that does that, or they keep them busy to keep them from reflecting, so they become aware of the shitty situation they are actually in. Had to sit with this one a bit to figure this out.

Thoughts on fans? (3 of wands) She likes to have a global reach. She liked to travel to see her fans. She may also want to expand her fanbase. She does have passion for her fans. There may be some creative things she would like to do for fans.

Yunjin

What she likes? (3 of Wands) The global reach she does have. The fact that she can live out her vision she may have. Her ability to travel and see other places. Her ability to expand. There are places she likes to go in her career as an idol.

What she doesn't like? (The Sun/The Hierophant) It is like the companies steal their shine, their youth, their energy and just make them their puppet. The Sun is about being your authentic self, with it next to the Hierophant, which is about following tradition, going with the standard, it is like they can't be themselves; they got to stick to the status quo and be like others, it is so stifling to be honest.

What she experienced/learned from past? (King of Swords) I am not sure she may have learned from a cold, smart, rational older male figure, but to be more logical and rational and to be a bit colder, to not be overly emotional. Or she realized older male figures are cold and callus and to accept that as an idol.

Thoughts on fans? (5 of Swords) Yikes, she sees them as divisive, why do I hear bitter, can be manipulative to get what they want, can be aggressive and they will cut you with their words and opinions.

Kazuha

What she likes? (8 of Cups) She might like to walk away from it all. I can't see this anyway else. I am not sure there is anything she likes at the moment.

What she doesn't like? (The Hierophant) The same vibe from most idols I read for and for this group as a whole. Very stifling, I got controlling. They mold you, they do what is expected and told. I always see this card as people being put up against another as well, so that may be a thing. Ugh I hate this energy. These idols can't do shit and can't be themselves, it sucks.

What she learned/experienced in the past? (The Emperor) Well, to not piss off whoever this emperor is, I hear dictator. A controlling figure. This is someone with explosive anger issues. Not sure who this is, if this is related to a father figure, or a dominant male figure in the company.

Thoughts on fans? (2 of Cups) She feels a lot of love for the fans, there is a strong bond and connection here. She feels united with them. They understand each other on an emotional level. She adores the fans.

Eunchae

What she likes? (King of Cups) There could be an older, loving male figure that looks after her, they may protect her that she may like. He may comfort her a lot and help her through the process of being an idol. Interesting.

What she doesn't like? (Ace of Pentacles rv) Blocked opportunities, an inability to grow financially. I feel she has been blocked from opportunities she may have wanted.

What she experienced/learned from the past? (Judgment rv) Her inability to grow and mature, to change and evolve. I am still getting she was stunted or blocked from something.

Thoughts on fans? (10 of Pentacles) They are a means to build her wealth and fortune. This card always gives me being the money maker of the group. But not sure how if she is blocked from opportunities from the other answers from above. Her energy is a bit blocked, struggling to get information here, so will stop here.

Okay, overall, they had some interesting insight here. But yeah, they are all pretty much stunted and stifled. They just kept coming up in the reading.

#kpop tarot #le sserafim tarot

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 1 year ago

Note

Sorry: I thought of another Makima comment/question. But before I bring that up, I am very excited to see that you are writing something for JJK!!!! I know it's going to be so perfect and give me all the feels!!!

Okay so I read your response to my question, (I'm the one who asked about character study), and I just wanted your thoughts/opinions on the jealously issue that arises with Himeno. I know you mentioned Makima being jealous of Himeno's relationship with reader, and I want to know how much of that you think is nature or nurture. It's obvious she is possessive of reader due to her nature as the Control Devil, but do you think that is equally due to nurture? i.e. what she has learned from movies or from other humans' interactions with their significant others? I love the moment when she catches Himeno with her arms around reader's shoulders. I cannot imagine the range of intense emotions and inner turmoil she felt seeing that!!! And do you think that was a recurring feeling she experienced when someone got a little too close to her beloved? I feel that is a trait that will carry on to Nayuta and all other reincarnations (as possessiveness does in the Canon!)

Thank you so much for your time once again!

Hi again, I love talking about character studies and motivations so keep 'em coming if you ever have another question \^o^/

(As for that JJK fic... it is certainly going to be a grand ride and it is going to be a bit of stray from what I typically write. I'm having fun working on the draft, it's going to come with a surprise I hope people appreciate when it's finally up and posted!)

I think that as far as Makima's jealousy though, it's a mixture of both. It's in her nature to be possessive as one who is the physical embodiment of the fear of being controlled but I attribute her behavior to nurture as well. If you're someone who has been deprived of affection your whole life, you're bound to be possessive of whatever affection you receive. That's essentially how Makima's jealousy works as far as my fics goes.

When she has a shift in how she views the reader and their relationship changes, that affection is something she prefers to have to herself. But Makima is someone very patient and we see in the canon, she has no problem playing the long game to get what she wants. She won't lash out out of her emotions even if she wants to. So during the moment where she saw the extent of the reader's friendship with Himeno, there were quite a bit of ideas she had concerning Himeno and making her disappear entirely.

But at that point in time, Makima views the reader a beacon of light for the sort of relationship she can hope to have with someone one day. The reader has, at this point, never succumbed to Makima's abilities. The reader has recognized Makima's loneliness and reached out to comfort her even though at that point, the reader's opinion of Makima was quite low. Add to the fact that Makima and Reader's relationship has improved exponentially by that point, it's something she doesn't want anyone impeding on. Not even someone who was there first as "your friend".

And yet, Makima doesn't lash out despite how much she would like to. Because the key thing Makima has always desired is being able to have a relationship with someone built on equity rather than fear and control. She doesn't want to mess that up having a jealous fit. She is afraid of losing that affection she receives from the reader, but she is more afraid of there being a day the reader succumbs to the influence of Makima's powers.

So she relies on intimidation in the moment Himeno encroaches on someone Makima claims as her own. And when she feels that is failing, she decides to rely on good old-fashioned communication when the reader prompts her to be honest as to why she is upset during their date.

But when their relationship is solidified as a couple, I see Makima making it more apparent when she is feeling jealous or needy. Lovers should be honest with one another, after all. Especially after she reveals her true identity and it didn't scare the reader off. They have their contract, marriage in Makima's eyes. It's the ultimate insurance of their relationship. So it does increase a bit from then on.

Kishibe encroaching on their peaceful life.

The reader's death at the hand of the Rat Devil, destroying precious life Makima held so dearly to her heart. It's an unforgivable crime to take that away from her.

I feel that jealousy would even extend to your family as well. Your family is her family now, something she's always desired. A family that she didn't need to make her own through force. So I feel if the reader has any siblings or close family childhood friends, Makima would feel some type of way about it.

It never makes it into the final draft, but there was a small joke in my outline about how Makima would view the reader making a contract with another devil as cheating. It was something I was only planning on being some sort of gag, but I don't think it would be too far from the truth. Makima would prefer to be the only devil the reader ever has a contract with.

And when it comes to her future incarnations, they definitely have varying degrees of possessiveness regardless of the quality of their lives. Nayuta doesn't showcase it during the sequel mostly due to the fact that for an indiscernible amount of time, it's only ever been just her and the reincarnated reader. So I imagine that when the two of them begin interacting with other people on the regular from schoolmates to even Power, it begins to come out more.

But Himeno, fun as she is, is strict about that. So Nayuta isn't allowed to let those feelings run rampant no matter how much she would like to.

#look she's answering #anon #makima x reader #nayuta

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zapreportsblog · 2 years ago

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↱ fun at the arcade ↰

➘ summary : Tomura Shigaraki goes to the arcade and ends up having fun for once in his life

➘ Tomura Shigaraki x reader, league of villains x reader

The neon lights of the arcade glowed brilliantly in the evening, casting a vibrant hue over the bustling crowd. Amidst the sounds of laughter and the flashing screens, Tomura Shigaraki, usually immersed in the dark world of villainy, found himself inexplicably drawn to the allure of the arcade.

He stood near a row of claw machines, his hands tucked into his pockets, his eyes scanning the array of games. Tomura was known for his brooding and serious demeanor, but in this moment, he felt a strange sense of nostalgia, memories of a simpler time tugging at his thoughts.

As he observed the crowd, his attention was captured by a young woman, (Y/N), who seemed to be engrossed in a dance game. Her movements were fluid, her expression a mix of determination and concentration. Tomura found himself inexplicably drawn to her energy, a stark contrast to his own inner turmoil.

(Y/N) noticed his gaze and flashed him a friendly smile, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Hey there! Are you here to play too?"

Tomura's usual response would have been a cold dismissal, but he found himself nodding, almost involuntarily. "Yeah, I guess I am."

With an inviting gesture, (Y/N) motioned to the machine next to her. "Wanna play together? It's more fun with a partner!"

Tomura hesitated, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Yet, something about (Y/N)'s openness and genuine enthusiasm compelled him to step closer and take a seat beside her.

They played a few rounds, laughter and camaraderie filling the air. Tomura's tense demeanor began to relax, a rare smile gracing his lips as he lost himself in the games. It was as if he had momentarily forgotten the weight of his villainous responsibilities.

"(Y/N), you're really good at this," he admitted, his surprise evident.

(Y/N) shrugged modestly. "I've been coming here for a while. It's a great way to unwind and have fun."

As the evening wore on, Tomura and (Y/N) continued to enjoy each other's company, moving from game to game with a sense of shared excitement. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, the connection between them growing stronger with every passing moment.

"(Y/N), this has been unexpectedly enjoyable," Tomura confessed, his tone more sincere than he had intended.

She grinned, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm glad you decided to join in on the fun. It's always nice to make new friends."

The word "friend" resonated with Tomura in a way he hadn't expected. He had become so isolated in his world of darkness that the concept of friendship felt foreign, yet strangely comforting.

As the night drew to a close, (Y/N) stood beside Tomura, her expression one of genuine warmth. "I had a great time hanging out with you, (Y/N). Maybe we can do this again sometime?"

Tomura felt a flicker of hesitation, a reminder of the secrets he carried. But he found himself nodding, a sense of yearning for connection overriding his reservations. "Yeah, I'd like that."

As they parted ways, Tomura watched (Y/N) disappear into the crowd, a sense of unexpected hope and lightness in his heart. For a brief moment, he had experienced a taste of normalcy, a reminder that even in the darkness, there was the potential for something more.

In the days that followed, Tomura found his thoughts often drifting to the memory of his time at the arcade with (Y/N). The connection they had formed had ignited a spark of something he hadn't felt in a long time – a sense of camaraderie and a fleeting glimpse of the ordinary world.

One afternoon, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, Tomura found himself standing outside the arcade once again. He hesitated for a moment, his inner turmoil warring with his desire for connection. Eventually, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, the familiar sounds and lights enveloping him.

His gaze searched the crowd, and he finally spotted (Y/N) at a racing game, her eyes fixed on the screen as she maneuvered her virtual car. With a mixture of determination and nostalgia, Tomura approached her.

"(Y/N)," he called out, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty.

She turned to him with a smile, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him. "Hey! I didn't expect to see you here."

Tomura shrugged, a hint of awkwardness in his movements. "I thought... maybe we could hang out again."

(Y/N)'s smile widened, and she motioned to the open seat beside her. "Sure, come join me! This game is a bit challenging, but I'm determined to win."

Tomura took a seat beside her, his heart surprisingly at ease in her presence. They played the game together, cheering each other on and sharing laughter as they navigated the virtual track.

As they moved on to other games, their conversations flowed effortlessly. Tomura found himself opening up in ways he hadn't thought possible. He spoke about his past, the challenges he faced, and the complexities of his world. And in turn, (Y/N) shared stories about her own life, her dreams, and her aspirations.

"You know, (Y/N), I haven't felt this... normal in a long time," Tomura admitted, his gaze a mixture of vulnerability and earnestness.

She nodded, her understanding evident. "Sometimes, it's the simple moments that remind us of the beauty in life. Even in a world of chaos, there are pockets of joy and connection."

Tomura's chest tightened at her words, a mixture of gratitude and longing flooding his emotions. In (Y/N)'s presence, he felt a rare sense of acceptance, as if his flaws and darkness were momentarily eclipsed by the light of their friendship.

As the evening came to an end, (Y/N) turned to Tomura with a smile. "I'm really glad we met, (Y/N). You've brought a touch of brightness into my day."

He met her gaze, his own eyes holding a mixture of gratitude and something deeper. "Me too, (Y/N). You've shown me a different side of life."

As they parted ways once again, Tomura carried with him a renewed sense of purpose. The connection he had found with (Y/N) reminded him that even in the midst of his villainous journey, there was the potential for change and redemption.

The path ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear – the unexpected bond he shared with (Y/N) had opened a door to a world he hadn't dared to dream of. And he was determined to see where it led.

In the days that followed, Tomura's interactions with (Y/N) became a bright spot in his otherwise chaotic existence. They met at the arcade regularly, sharing laughter, stories, and an ever-growing sense of camaraderie. For Tomura, these moments offered a temporary reprieve from the darkness that consumed him.

One evening, as they walked out of the arcade together, Tomura hesitated, a question tugging at his thoughts. "(Y/N), there's something I should tell you."

(Y/N) looked at him curiously, her expression open and attentive. "What is it, (Y/N)?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers. "I... I'm not who you think I am. I'm involved in things that... you wouldn't understand."

(Y/N)'s brow furrowed in confusion, concern flickering in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

Tomura's gaze held a mixture of hesitation and urgency. "I'm part of something darker, something you'd probably consider villainous."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of emotions crossing her features. "Wait, you're saying... you're a villain?"

He nodded, his voice somber. "Yes, and my actions... they've hurt people."

For a moment, there was silence as (Y/N) processed his confession. Tomura braced himself for a reaction, expecting her to pull away in fear or disgust.

But to his surprise, (Y/N) placed a gentle hand on his arm, her eyes filled with empathy. "Tomura, I believe that people are complex. We're shaped by our experiences and the choices we make. You're more than just a label. You're a person with your own story."

Tomura was taken aback by her understanding, a mixture of gratitude and disbelief flooding his emotions. "You don't... hate me?"

(Y/N) shook her head, a small smile on her lips. "I don't hate anyone without knowing their full story. And if you're willing to share your story with me, I'm willing to listen."

His heart swelled with a mixture of emotions – gratitude, relief, and a growing sense of attachment. In (Y/N)'s presence, he felt seen in a way he hadn't before. He felt like more than just a villain; he felt like a person with the potential for change.

Over the next few weeks, Tomura gradually opened up to (Y/N) about his past, his motivations, and the tangled web of villainy he was a part of. Her acceptance and willingness to understand him created a bond that transcended their differences.

As they spent time together, (Y/N) reminded Tomura of the humanity he had lost touch with. She showed him that even in the darkest of circumstances, there was room for redemption and growth.

And as the days turned into nights, Tomura found himself unraveling layers of his own heart. He realized that the connection he shared with (Y/N) was a testament to the power of compassion and understanding, a beacon of light that had the potential to guide him towards a different path.

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daydreamer-in-reverie · 10 months ago

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On an anonymous ask:

Hi, interesting perspective on S3 and I agree. I'd be very curious to hear your thoughts on Francesca character assassination and deviation from the books. The Michael/Michaela is very controversial and I prefered to reach out anonymous but I couldn't in your asks. That would be great if you could make a post, if you feel like doing so. Thanks!

HUGE BRIDGERTON SPOILERS

Francesca’s and Michael’s love story is one of my favorites from the books and I absolutely hate how much it has changed and NOT because Michael is now Michaela. I want to preface this by saying that I am an ally of the community and have always adored LGBTQIA+ representation on the screen.

That said, I don’t think I’ll enjoy Francesca and Michaela and not because Michaela’s a woman.

In the books, Francesca and Michael loved each other, albeit differently. Francesca loved Michael like one would love a brother while Michael was actually in love with Francesca. Michael longed and loved her in secret, yearning for any small moment they could share yet hating himself for falling for the one woman his cousin, John, the man he practically called brother, loved. It was his inner turmoil, the foil in his characterization that makes him so complex and the reason why it works so well is because Francesca doesn’t feel the same way at the start because Francesca loved John.

Francesca loved John will all her heart. Theirs was a true love match and it absolutely delighted Violet in the books that Francesca made a match so quickly and was so in love even if she had to move away. Francesca in the books never would have looked at Michael in the same way she looked at John until John’s death. It was John’s death that served as a catalyst to their love story because Francesca and Michael’s love story is finding love after grief.

Their story centered on themes of grief. How much they grieved John’s death together and how John’s death affected them both differently. Michael’s inner struggles of taking over the title of Earl of Kilmartin and moving into John’s old home made Michael feel like a usurper especially because he was in love with Francesca. Francesca’s grief over John’s death and losing their unborn child is what propels her to want to marry again because she didn’t just lose the husband she loved, she lost their child.

Grief is the only way their story can be told convincingly.

And yet, in a single stroke, we lose all sense of it with Francesca experiencing love at first sight upon meeting Michaela.

Because Francesca’s grief over John’s eventual death feels unconvincing and cheap because of how she looked at Michaela. How can she truly mourn the man that stands in the way of the woman she’s fallen in love with?

My gripe over Francesca/John/Michael/a is that essentially, their story has changed. And this changed wasn’t brought about because Michael is now Michaela but because Francesca loved Michaela before she ever truly loved John.

And don’t even get me started on Francesca not wanting children.

Francesca wanted kids point blank. She may have been the black sheep of her family (being firmly sequestered in the middle of the birth order) but she wanted kids. She wanted her own children to love and it’s what ultimately spurns her to once again trying her luck on the marriage mart. No sane widow of the time would marry again unless there was a need to. Francesca didn’t need to. She was extremely close with both John and Michael as well as their respective parents. They all adored her and even if Michael married a different woman, he would never have turned her out on the street. He even said he’d willingly provide her an allowance and a house with her own retinue of servants if that’s what she so wanted but it was Francesca who refused because she wanted children and wanted to give the marriage mart a try once again in the hopes she would find another man to love and marry. Francesca’s yearning for children is another catalyst to Francesca’s and Michael’s love story because Francesca never would have wanted to love again without it.

I truly believe an interesting story on Francesca’s struggles with infertility and grief could be told by her and Michaela’s relationship. I truly believe that with Michael now Michaela, Francesca’s want for children vs the reality of her situation could be told in a different way. In the books, Francesca eventually gets the children she wants (2) but it took her years of trying. With Michael now Michaela, her fertility journey could end with her not having children at all, and her learning to accept this fact. We so rarely see this struggle rightfully represented in media. Whenever couples struggle with infertility, they hit bump after bump after bump but eventually they’re granted children for their efforts in way or another (either through IVF or adoption). In reality, this isn’t always the case and so Francesca never having kids despite her desire for them would make for an interesting storyline. For a character to want, and struggle, and yearn for something yet ultimately fail at it is a story that will always have its audience. And in this context of a gay couple struggling to have children and ultimately not being able to, is something many LGBT couples will relate to. Not to mention the women as well, who project themselves onto Francesca’s struggle with infertility.

Essentially Francesca’s characterization was assassinated. Even Michael’s too, to an extent. Michael can’t struggle with feeling like he took everything from his cousin if he’s a woman because women at that time never inherited and so any feeling Michaela has about “taking” what’s rightfully John’s feels cheap. It’s not a true struggle if it’s impossible to have in the first place.

I’ll still watch Bridgerton because I firmly believe Benedict (who is my favorite character in both the books and the series) is next. But I’m losing hope that they’ll be able to tell his story and his struggles well if Francesca and Polin’s story is of any indication.

#eloise bridgerton #colin bridgerton #edmund bridgerton #kate bridgerton #penelope bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #michael stirling #earl of kilmartin #countess of kilmartin #john stirling

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lilycolbertsstuff · 11 months ago

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I just finished the Addicted/Calloway sisters series and I’m positively weeping.

While reading these books I really felt like I was going through a journey with all those characters and I couldn’t be more grateful for that because they taught me so much.

I will truly never forget the way they made me feel and how I learned to accept, love and care for the core six as if they were my friends. I’ve never experienced characters feeling so raw and real and that’s what makes these novels special. What they went through in terms of personal growth and emotional turmoil feels like something that any of us could live through in our lifetimes.

These are the kind of books that remind me why I love reading. We bottle up so much of our feelings to appease society’s standards that sometimes it feels like we’re becoming robots, so it’s nice to have a reminder that it’s ok to feel all sorts of emotions whenever and wherever we feel them and if someone tells us otherwise we bring out our inner Rose Calloway Cobalt.

Ultimately the most important value that these books want to transmit to the readers is that we should never be afraid to love and be loved because without this blazing force that drives human beings we would just be hollow shells.

Round of thanks:

- Lily, thank you for showing me that anything is possible if we learn to accept the help of the people around us. Thank you for showing me that being shy is not a weakness. It’s ok to struggle, it’s ok to take it slow and it’s ok to fall down on our path to happiness but in the end we will make it and we will be deserving of it. There’s no right definition of strength and I’ll make sure to remind myself of that.

- Lo, thank you for showing me that the people who struggle in their early years are not doomed to a future of failure and despair. I struggle with my insecurities just like Lo did, feeling inferior, stupid, worthless but watching him evolve and become the amazing person he is moves me to strive and work on myself to become someone I will be able to say I am proud of in the future.

- Rose, thank you for reinforcing in me the fact that love is the most powerful force in the world. You are a blazing fire that is not afraid to drop everything and put herself on the line for the people she loves, I aspire to be as courageous as she is one day. She is a feminist and is never afraid to put out her ideas into the world and confront with her head held high all the men who would even try to doubt her. She loves fiercely and without any restraints and I think that’s what we should all live our lives like. I think the greatest lesson she has taught me is that you should always be true to yourself and never try to change your personality just so you might be appreciated more by others, for the people who cherish you accept you for who you are to your core with all your vices and virtues.

- Connor, I’ve loved your character ever since your first appearance, thank you for taking us along your journey of learning to accept love into your life. I know it’s hard, especially if you’ve never felt something as strong as that but in the end, even though there might be heartache along the way, it is all worth it. His open mindedness helped me get more comfortable in my sexuality and I will never be more thankful to him for that.

- Daisy, I want to thank you because watching you go on your journey of finding your own voice and learning to speak your mind without being afraid of other people’s judgement was truly inspiring. We can’t always pretend to be ok with what other people tell us to do and that’s completely fine because in the end expressing what we think and want in a respectful way will help define our own path.

- Ryke, I wish I were as selfless as you are. Your compassion and will to do good and help the people in need are qualities that not many people have. I think of Ryke as a lighthouse, always there to show the right way to the people who may have lost their own light. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Having said so, I will for sure revisit these books in the future because these characters feel like family now and to me family comes first.

Until next time 🪷🌹🌼

Ps. Poppy Calloway I wish we could’ve seen more of you.

#addicted series #moving on will be so hard #calloway sisters #lily calloway #rose calloway #daisy calloway #loren hale #connor cobalt #ryke meadows #some kind of perfect #addicted to you #family #reading #booklr #bookworm

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mizu-chin · 10 months ago

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Yes My Lord "Bonds of Affection and Sebastian's Inner Confrontation"

*English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.*

Weeks turned into months at the Phantomhive mansion, and Y/n became a constant and reliable presence. She wasn't just a skilled warrior but also someone Ciel Phantomhive could trust, a rare thing in the treacherous world they lived in.

Ciel, though a young master of only twelve, bore a heavy burden on his shoulders. The responsibility of leading the Phantomhive household and seeking revenge for the crimes committed against his family were tasks he couldn't delegate. However, Y/n's presence brought a sense of comfort he hadn't expected to find.

One late afternoon, after a series of tense meetings with dubious investors and allies, Ciel retreated to the library. Sitting in a dark leather armchair, he distractedly flipped through a book, but his mind was far away. Y/n, passing through the hallway, noticed the tired expression on the young master's face and quietly entered the room.

"Miss Y/n," said Ciel, without lifting his eyes from the book. "What brings you here?"

She smiled softly and approached, sitting in the chair beside him. "Just a hunch, Master Ciel. You seem troubled."

Ciel sighed, closing the book. "Sometimes it feels like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. It's not easy being the Earl of Phantomhive."

Y/n leaned forward, her eyes full of understanding. "You are an impressive young man, Ciel. Braver and stronger than many adults I've met. And you're not alone. You have me, Sebastian, and everyone who truly cares about you."

Ciel looked at her, his usually cold gaze softening for a moment. "You're different, Y/n. I don't know what it is, but I feel I can trust you."

She reached out and gently touched his hand. "You can. And you always will. I promise."

In that moment, something changed. A bond of trust and affection began to form between the young master and his bodyguard. Ciel, accustomed to hiding his emotions and being strong, allowed himself a brief moment of vulnerability. And Y/n, always the warrior, showed a softer, more maternal side.

Sebastian, observing the scene from the library entrance, felt a pang of something he didn't want to admit: jealousy. He, an experienced demon, accustomed to manipulating and controlling, now found himself disturbed by the growing connection between Y/n and Ciel.

That night, Sebastian wandered the corridors of the mansion, his face a mask of calm, but his interior in turmoil. He couldn't fully understand why the closeness between Y/n and Ciel bothered him so much. After all, he was a demon, and feelings like jealousy should be irrelevant to him.

While preparing Ciel's evening tea, his thoughts were focused on Y/n. Her strength, her resistance to his demonic charms, and now, her ability to emotionally connect with Ciel in a way that he, Sebastian, never could. This troubled him more than he wanted to admit.

"Sebastian?" Y/n's soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. She stood at the kitchen door, watching him with a mix of curiosity and something more subtle.

"Yes, Miss Y/n," he replied, turning to her. "Can I help you with something?"

She entered the kitchen, closing the door behind her. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you."

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "About what?"

"About Ciel," she said, sitting down in a chair. "I worry about him. He's strong, but he's still a child. And it seems he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders."

Sebastian sighed, placing the kettle on the stove. "The young master has many responsibilities. And I am here to help him bear that burden."

"I know," Y/n said softly. "But sometimes, what he needs is not just a perfect butler, but someone who can understand his pains and fears."

Sebastian watched her for a moment, his conflicting emotions reflected in his eyes. "You care deeply for him, don't you?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation. "And I know you care too."

He looked away, a rare gesture of vulnerability. "I am a demon, Y/n. My motivations are... different from yours."

"Maybe," she said, standing and approaching him. "But that doesn't mean you can't feel. I see it in you, Sebastian. You care about Ciel, even if you don't want to admit it."

He remained silent for a moment, absorbing her words. Finally, he met her gaze again. "Perhaps you're right. But I cannot allow this to interfere with my duties."

Y/n smiled slightly. "And it won't. But knowing you care can make all the difference for Ciel. And for us."

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

In the days that followed, the dynamic between Y/n, Ciel, and Sebastian began to change. There was a new understanding between them, an acceptance of the emotions each brought to the complex web of relationships at the Phantomhive mansion.

Sebastian, though still faithful to his role as butler and protector, began to allow himself small moments of humanity. He watched with a mix of pride and something more as Y/n trained Ciel in combat or comforted him after a nightmare. These moments, though brief, were significant.

One afternoon, while Y/n and Ciel were in the garden practicing fencing, Sebastian watched from a safe distance. Ciel laughed, a rare sound, as Y/n instructed him with patience and encouragement.

"You're improving, Ciel," she said, smiling. "Remember to keep your feet steady."

Ciel nodded, determined. "Thank you, Y/n. I never thought I could enjoy training."

She laughed, a melodious sound that stirred something inside Sebastian. "There are many things you might enjoy, Ciel. You just have to allow yourself to try."

Sebastian then approached, bringing a tray with fresh lemonade. "A refreshment for our combatants," he announced with a gentle smile.

Ciel took a glass, drinking eagerly. "Thank you, Sebastian. You always know what we need."

Sebastian inclined his head. "It's my duty, young master."

Y/n took her glass, looking directly at Sebastian. "And you do it very well, Sebastian. We're grateful for that."

Sebastian met her gaze, something deep and unspoken passing between them. "I am also grateful, Miss Y/n. For everything."

Ciel watched the two, a feeling of security and belonging growing within him. For the first time in a long while, he felt he had a family, even if it was an unlikely one.

#kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji x reader #BlackButler #Black Butler x reader #Sebastian Michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader #Sebastian #Sebastian x reader #Ciel Phantomhive #Ciel #xreader #y/n #fem reader

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santoschristos · 4 months ago

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The Only Way Out is Through Greetings, I am Tala Nee, and I come in light and love, in service of the Divine and to All That Is. I open up this transmission today to speak on behalf of the galactic community and the Pleiadian star system, my dear brothers and sisters, as we all look upon you and your planet in this time of transition, in this time of ascension, in this grand time of reunification. While you are deep within the maw, the darkness, the confusion, and the coming apart and destruction of things…we know that many of you feel hopeless, confused and even ungrounded. The disinformation, misinformation, and outright lies surround you at all angles; not just from what you term your mainstream media, but also within many pockets and avenues in what you now call the Truther community, and what some refer to as the conspiracy theorist community. There are many who don’t know where to turn to know the truth of what is happening. And this is a great gift in disguise, for the truth can only be found within. The various untruths and illusions that surround you at all levels do serve the purpose of guiding you to turn within in order to find your own truth, your own meaning, and your own pathway through and into the light. This is all part of the growth process and the awakening of consciousness. For far too long, many have given away their sovereignty to the narratives that are spoon-fed to you from your external reality, and the many levels of deception, manipulation and control which exist in your world. The truth can always be found within. We know that this may be a great challenge for those who suffer from internal turmoil and confusion, but again, this is all part of the journey of self-awakening. For one is not going to arrive at the doorstep of ascension without having done the inner-work required to step out of one’s own inner shadows, and into the light of unity consciousness. This is the work that needs to be done by each individual. There is a longer journey for some than for others, but those who are in the first wave of ascension are easing the way for those who are to follow. They are doing the hard work, the heavy lifting, as you would call it. Much like an individual who creates a pathway in the wilderness for others to follow, so too, do those in the first wave of ascension do this on behalf of everyone on your planet. Each individual must do their own work, their own inner seeking, and their own methods of integrating ego and shadow. And as the saying goes on your planet, there is no way out but through. And so, each of you in your own way must go through and do the work. All the chaos that you see reflected in your external world on a global level is but a mere reflection of what many individuals are going through within themselves, on their own personal journeys of awakening. And yet, for those who have been doing this work for some time now, the light at the end of the tunnel can be seen. For there are already individuals upon your planet who are at the higher levels of awakening and are experiencing the first glimpses of the new earth, and the more awakened 5th dimensional/4th density consciousness. There are many of us cheering you on from the other side of the veil, and we’re ready to be of service in any way that we can without directly interfering. This is a job each individual must do on their own, and as a collective species, you must find a way through, free of outside intervention. Rest assured, you have already made it through, and now this just needs to unfold in your waking reality. That is all for today, dear ones. We wish to express our great love for you and all of humanity. Namaste **Channel: Ben Rafael Guevarra

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woozten-x · 1 year ago

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#. 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐚 || 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧

[ ; M.List including other Neos! ]

─ Synopsis: Insomniac nights are a pain...But, Na Jaemin will be the end of it all.

─ CONTENT WARNING: Indirect mention of suicide, DEPRESSION!

─ Pairing: Na Jaemin x Gender-Neutral Reader

─ Genre: Angst w. Comfort, Fluff/Wholesome

─ Concepts: reader has insomnia and depression, indirect statement towards suicide(?), basically reader getting comforted by reader because everyone needs a Jaemin in their lives, crappy writing pls don't mind that LOL

─ Count of Words: 1.2k

─ Inspiration of the work: What Was I Made For? - Billie Ellish

A/N: hi again LMAOODHSD yeah its been awhile. uhh... well... ive been burnt out for awhile because for some reason sitting and writing was a really difficult task to do lately. i am working on other projects! but, finishing them is a different story. this isn't how i wanted to come back... but, things been rough so i've been in the gutter and just wrote this on a whim since writing is just my source of comfort.

this is incredibly self indulgent. its a little too real? idk. the emotions are there but its not exactly clarified further? i decided to post so i can just put something up before doing changes to my acc + have some comfort for people who dealt with similar issues (stay strong<3). i am not sure what else to really say HAHAHDGS but, i will be writing and putting some things up again!!

ty for anyone who followed and continued supporting my works. i really appreciate it<3 i hope you guys have a great day/night :)

Another sleepless night.

At this point, it should be part of your routine, but it has gotten to the point where you are staring at your ceiling in the dark. Endless thoughts struck your mind like thunder, each droplet of your breath seems repetitive; you are still breathing yet somehow everything feels so empty. You are not sure why you feel this way or maybe you do, it is simply one of those feelings you feel at times.

Because of these same feelings, you are left wide awake with your body begging to sleep but your mind is continuing to howl within the night; yet there is no moon. Somehow, everything feels so dark. During these late hours where everyone is sleeping, nightfall seems endless for you - finding no peace within, especially amongst your inner turmoil.

You glance at your bedside, reaching out to take your phone and check the time. The white, bold number glows back at you - ‘2:00 a.m.’ reflecting back at you and momentarily blinding you with its powerful light. You let out a heavy sigh, placing down your phone on the nightstand with eyes stinging slightly from exhaustion and possibly the bright light of your phone. Rising from your bed, you quietly open the door.

Your footstep croaks upon the wooden floor of your apartment, walking to the kitchen that was only down the hallway; thinking maybe you could find something to munch on. Knowingly, you would only go to the kitchen without much reason or an appetite. It was a distraction, one that could help you out of your thoughts; even for a brief moment.

Quietly you stalk towards the kitchen, the tile floor cold against your skin, you pay no mind however. Your hand extends towards the fridge, opening it and letting the light be the only thing illuminating back at you. Eyes scan the items inside the fridge, finding nothing appetizing nor did you bother to move to grab something; instead you stand in front of the fridge, the coldness escaping wraps around you.

It wasn’t comfortable. No, it was far from comfortable…Yet it was somehow comforting to feel it.

“Y/N?”

Blinking away the daze cursing you in place, you glanced over your shoulder to see Na Jaemin; your roommate and a friend since highschool. The two of you have quite a history, in fact he is one of your best friends, one who experienced the highs and lows with you. He seems confused upon seeing you at this hour, concern evident in his gaze but he conceals it with his usual smile of his.

One that seems to hold no worries.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, walking over to you and you look away once hearing the beeping from the refrigerator. It was alerting the both of you about how the door was open a bit too long. You close it and Jaemin grunts when he bumps into the corner of the counter within the kitchen, “What are you doing in the dark? You got night vision?” He grumbles, a hint of pain in his teasing.

You chuckle, walking towards the light switch of the kitchen and pressing the button - “Maybe I do~ Maybe I am a vampire.”

“Is that why you are always sleeping during the day?” Jaemin jokes along, the same smile playing on his lips. The light of the kitchen glowing in a faint yellow, your eyes easily landing on Jaemin; although he carries a smile, it did not reach his eyes. “Are you okay?” He asks, inquiring about your well-being once more; he seems to care so much.

But, for what reason? Your mind instantly thinks that when just seeing it. Feeling it.

You shrug, “No idea. Just have…A lot of thoughts.” You admittedly say, not exactly direct with what you were feeling. No words could describe it; was it exhaustion? Sadness? No, for some reason, it was more complicated than that.

Jaemin eyes at you, tilting his head - “What kind of thoughts?”

“When will the world end?” You joke with a small, half-hearted laugh. Jaemin rolls his eyes, your playfulness seizing an opportunity; but, it wasn’t exactly worth it. No joy overwrites the concern on Jaemin’s handsome face.

“Do you want the world to end?” He asks, leaning himself against the edge of the counter. You stood near the fridge, feeling your shoulders shrug at his question; it was a joke, nothing more. However, Jaemin had caught on the deeper undertone of it.

You sigh, “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s not like Doom would appear at my service.”

“Yes, dating some type of godly being is out of the question.” Jaemin chuckles, nodding at your words. You feel your lips tug up into a small smile at the same banter, your eyes falling away from his; your eyes scanning the tile floor, each line of the floor somehow more interesting than the person facing you.

“I wouldn’t want it to end.” He said, shrugging his shoulders and you scoff at his words. You part your lips to speak, but he continues - “But, if it ever ended, I would want to spend the very last moment with you.”

You chuckle, not exactly surprised to hear that from him. He’s always been vocal about his loyalty towards you and even his fondness; but, somehow it has your eyes watering just a little. It was such a small thing, one thing that seemed like a Na Jaemin thing to say yet it held so much impact. You look up, blinking away the tears with a laugh leaving you - “You are so cheesy.”

Jaemin shrugs, “I prefer speaking the truth.” He softly said, noticing the vulnerability surrounding you. Even when you hide it, he is always going to notice. He lifts himself off the counter, walking towards you. Strong arms surround you, tugging you close against a warmth; one that seems familiar, but one you seemed to have forgotten.

You rest your head against his chest, hearing the faint heartbeat of Jaemin. He places a hand on the back of your head, cradling you in his secure grasp - “It’s alright now.”

Burying your face in his chest, tears streaming down your face; the same tears that never came for these past nights. No matter how hard you tried, they wouldn’t fall. Finally, the warmth streams down your cheeks, letting all the heaviness drown you; you hold onto Jaemin, fingers loosely grasping onto his sweater, as he lets out a low assuring hum.

Even when you know he would never understand, he is going to stand in front of you with open arms. He always will.

“I won’t leave you alone for the night, okay?” He murmurs near your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You nod, your grasp tightening on his sweater. By the end of the night, you won’t be able to let him go…

Even with these past nights of anxiety and overthinking, you are finally falling asleep in peace.

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codfanficedits · 2 years ago

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Don't fall in love - Part four

Summary:

You get warned not to fall in love with Ghost, but you did anyways. Final part!

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 901 | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: a healthy conversation.

Part one - two - three here.

“I don’t understand.” How could anyone really want you?

“Why not?”

“I’m just, me? I have too much issues for you to really want me. I’m too damaged to be loved by anyone. You can get any woman you like, you shouldn’t want me.”

“Stop filling in what I want.”

Simple words, yet they’re so effective.

“What do you want?”

“You.”

But what if you hurt him again? What if that is the final strike and he leaves you? What if you let him into your heart, what if you let him become your home and he grows tired of you?

“You’re doing it again.”

“Sorry.”

“Tell me what is going on inside of you.”

You’re amazed he can keep such a calm attitude while you feel a storm brewing inside of you. You’re amazed he can keep driving the car without crashing the both of you.

“I’m worried.” You begin. “Worried you’ll hurt me. Worried we will get into an argument and you’ll leave me. Worried I will let you in, and you see me for what I am and you decide you don’t like it.”

“I can’t promise you we won’t get into an argument.” He starts. “We’re both human, arguments happen, feelings happen. But I can promise you we can communicate about it.”

It was hard to hear this, because all you wanted was for him to promise you empty promises, promises he couldn’t keep, so you could throw it in his face. This was a nice change of pace, but boy was it terrifying. Terrifying yet exciting.

“Would you stay the night if I asked you again?” His voice breaks your inner turmoil.

“Yes.”

“What made you change your mind from last time?”

“Well..” Your voice dies out, and your mind starts to wander again, going into territory you don’t want it to go. And there comes the worry again. Because you had just told him how afraid you were, what must he think of you if his words weren’t enough to calm you down? God it felt as if you were already behind in whatever the fuck it was the two of you were sharing.

“You’re so in your head, you can’t even enjoy where you are.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” His eyes meet yours for a short moment before he focuses on the road again. “You’re so in your head, so worried what I will think of you, so worried what others will think of you. Please try to let that go.” His voice is soft, softer than you’ve ever heard before. “I’ve slept around after I’ve slept with you, and while I’m sure you don’t like it, you don’t bring it up, you don’t judge me for it. So why treat yourself different.”

“Well, you’re not a bad person for the ways you tried to kill your sadness.” You protest.

“Neither are you.”

“This is difficult Simon. I can’t see what you see in me. I avoid my gaze in the mirror. I have no interest in learning what it feels like to meet my eyes.”

“But meeting your eyes is beautiful.”

“And all beautiful things come and go.”

“But they come.”

This man had a way with words you had never experienced before, and it brought you a sense of relief.

“Why do you know so well what to say to me?”

Simon is reluctant to answer you, but does so anyway. “Because I am telling you the things I wish someone else would’ve told me.”

“Oh.”

“But that is okay. I found my strength and I can use it to guide you. I can’t do the healing for you, but I can try to understand how it feels and help you.”

“That’s the kindest anyone has ever been to me.”

“And you do deserve so much more of it.” For the first time in ages Simon finally allows himself to have the conversations he has been craving so much. No longer is he Ghost, the man to just have a shallow one night stand with, now he is just Simon and Simon cares.

“Thank you.”

You take a deep breath, excitement and fear dancing together inside of your soul.

“Where do we go from here?” A question you hate to ask.

“I think we need to take it slow. You’re a giver, always pouring out too much love. But you don’t realize yet that watering a rock doesn’t make it soft.” He looks at you again before he continues. “You are yours before you are anyone else’s, and I would like to be next to you while you figure that out.”

You can feel your heart starting to race again, your mind filling again with the insecurities, clouding your happiness, but this time it’s you who breaks the silence.

“But I want us to be inclusive. Seeing you sleep around breaks my heart.”

“I won’t, but you have to actually stay the night if you promise me it.” A little playfulness to ease the mood.

“Do you promise to stay alongside me, even when it get’s difficult?”

“I promise.”

“Even at my worst?”

“Even at your worst.” The words leave his lips without thinking about it, as if staying with you at your worst is so natural for him.

“Ask me to stay, and I will. I will drop everything else if you ask me to stay.” He whispers.

“Then please stay.”

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