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daeyumi · 3 days ago
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Cycle of the Stars: Prologue II
https://archiveofourown.org/works/60104758/chapters/158660371
Prologue II
Ipseity
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***
23rd day of Rising Sun
It happened again today. That uneasiness, a looming duress; like thunderheads come at last to devour the hungry sky. A catalyst. It seems a portent of things to come. I feel it when I walk the streets of the town, a grim wind between the crowds. Not in their faces or in the busy markets, vibrant as always. But I feel it all the same.
Reports are the same as ever. Monsters to the west, far across the sands; dispatched by the party who brought the news. An unconcerning pattern. Our people are strong, we carry the wind and the sky in our swords.
All is well.
And yet….
Current emotions: apprehension, stability, resilience
24th day of Rising Sun
I passed by her effigy. I didn’t intend to, lost in thought and wandering the back streets of my city, away from my pretensions and the relentless eyes of its denizens. I’ve walked these streets so many times, day by day over the years, the markets, the inn, the homes of my people. Our lives.
I know them like the tracks on the back of my hand, each line a story, an introspection, a defiance. I do not walk the path that leads to her. Always taking alternate routes- a lifetime of avoidance, of cowardice; a king hiding like a rat from the burning glare of a sun that was never meant for me.
And yet I saw her. That abhorrent goddess. Weathered stone worn smooth by the ardent consecration of many hands; an immutable effigy to match its subject. She leers down at me from her hallowed alcove; her cold eyes watching me, freezing me, judging me. Using me. She would use me if she could, as she has so many of my predecessors. I reject their fate, as I should have rejected their path and tread another.
Sometimes I think I should have chosen a different name, far removed from this accursed title and its implications. But the associations persist, groundless; and so I remain.
Current emotions: defiance, wistfulness, steadfast rejection
25th day of Rising Sun
I keep running it over again in my mind. Did I feel this way before? Yesterday? This morning? There’s no evidence. My records show the same; the persistence of my resolve unequivocal in these pages.
I feel they’re plotting against me. The goddesses.
Every movement I make, I suspect interference of a higher power. A puppet on divine strings, a doll tossed to the callous earth and left to rot amongst the refuse, swallowed by avarice and the fetters of eons spent in limbo.
I wonder if she smiles down at us as we fight and kill and die in her name like playthings.
I will wander no further down this path tonight; I have other matters to occupy my mind.
Current emotions: introspection, suspicion, anticipation
26th day of Rising Sun
The merchants whisper of strange disappearances across the sand, some travelers claiming to have lost contact with inhabitants of the far dunes.
Swallowed to the earth without a trace.
These allegations are unsubstantiated at best; yet still I am forced to consider the implications of an unknown actor upon my lands.
Current emotions: scrutiny, quietude, steadiness
27th day of Rising Sun
Another skirmish broke out on the northeastern border with Hyrule. None of our own were lost, yet I cannot but suspect that larger pieces are in motion. For today, I remain grateful that all my warriors have returned to me.
Current emotions: peace, requital, suspicion
28th day of Rising Sun
I couldn’t sleep last night. My dreams were filled with faces; features scratched out and incomprehensible, looking down on me from a formless haze of revelation. So many in their number that a thousand lifetimes could not count them, and yet so few that they seemed only One. Flaying the skin from my bones with their judgment until nothing remained of me but the crest upon my right hand, tattered skin peeling back from the bone and shredding, fragmenting, returning to the sand in all corners of the world; scars releasing their hold on their captive and fleeing to the edges of my vision, absolved by the light in the piercing eyes above. And still those etched triangles remained. I felt my eyes recede into sand in the wind as I woke, my consciousness ebbing to the void at the same time it returned to me in wakefulness.
And yet nothing disturbs us in my waking hours.
Current emotions: foreboding, apprehension, resistance
29th day of Rising Sun
They say a Hero has appeared. They say he heralds a great darkness, the misfortune only endowed upon those forced to the wrong side of fate. The Hero’s rise has only ever spelled desolation for us. It’s the same damned prophecy I’ve been running from my whole life. The Princess, the Hero, and the sinistrous man held fast by the thrall of the dominance forced upon him by birthright.
I see my deepest fears laid to light before me. Strung out along my path like corpses wrung by the neck, withered husks prefacing a descent to erasure. They beckon me forth with voices of autonomy and empty promises.
Is there any other recourse to be taken than to wait? For if I make a move now, I throw myself willingly down the same declivity of actions as all those who came before, abandoning my will to providence and to the whims of the curse upon my flesh.
Current emotions: unease, disgust, rejection
30th day of Rising Sun
Hyrule wants war with us. They won’t state as much, but I see it in their eyes; the way they look at us, at me. Blame.
The envoy arrived this morning with an air of finality. Only a handful of Hylians; ambassadors and their guards. That woman striding brazenly at their helm. That Gerudo-turned-traitor, come to accuse us; burying the intent of Hyrule’s words beneath pleasantries and clarifications. Hiding behind the swords and shields of a so-called honor guard.
Their precaution is telling enough. And their adjurations when we spoke has only strengthened my conviction.
I spell it plainly here, so my future self can recall these terms without influence or bias- above all else, I must know my own thoughts. They suspect us for the monster attacks that threaten their kingdom; they claim the border skirmishes are waged in self-defense, citing raids on the settlements at the fringes of Hyrule. For disappearances and deaths. Brutality.
I demanded proof. They had nothing to show. Only discarded shards of bone, warped beyond recognition. A splintered, massive claw, serrated at its edge; holes driven through the carapace as if awaiting new growth from within. The tip of a weathered blade, blood rusted upon its surface. Nothing but refuse and remnants and blame. Blame for the past. Blame for the future. Blame for the unknown and the secret and the goddess-scorned and the false. They left in a stone-faced resolve, disappearing in the haze of heat across the sun-smeared dunes.
They’ve said nothing about the whispers of the hero. Is it ignorance, or subterfuge? And what does it say about my own state that I am unable to discern between the two?
I ill wish for bloodshed, but I will do what is necessary. Always.
Current emotions: tension, regret, unease
31st day of Rising Sun
I’ve begun to wonder if I’m overthinking this.
Perhaps what I sense is merely a facet of the larger scope. If the enmity I perceived was instead representative of a more tangible threat. I’ve had time to reflect upon the events of the past few days; and now having a clear sense of Hyrule’s intent, I fear the threat of men over formless cosmic interference. War. Or perhaps she has once again played me for a fool.
And when my senses fail me, I can trust nothing more than my own writings.
Current emotions: doubt, intrigue, contemplation
1st day of Zenith
I feel once more a fell wind upon our city. The masses pray in earnest to their delusory goddess; beseeching salvation from a burden which should never have been theirs to bear. I do not begrudge them their faith, though I wished they had chosen a better target for their prayers.
Current emotions: contempt, rejection, stability
2nd day of Zenith
Nāori brought the report today. One of our scouting parties did not return from their sortie; a routine patrol to the southwestern border. They were expected back at dusk two days past; a search party already dispatched to their aid. This development... it weighs heavily on my mind. I wait until the morrow, but no further.
Current emotions: impatience, unease, worry
3rd day of Zenith
Trouble. A giant pit in the sands. My soldiers are missing. Glass sphere. Vast abyss. I will write more as time allows.
Current emotions: anxiety, resolve, anger
4th day of Zenith
I found them.
I set out yesterday at dusk, after one of my soldiers returned bearing news that their scouting party had been swallowed by the desert. She cited a massive pit in the wasteland like a giant abyss; it opened up suddenly in a in a flash of searing cold, rending a hole in the dunes. Isa is her name. She claimed herself the sole survivor, witness to the desecration. I have no reason to distrust her, though I am forced to consider the possibility that she is an agent of a higher power, sent to lure me away. I go forward regardless. I will not risk the safety of my people to send another.
I tread the long path to the southwest, to the cruel corners of the desert, following Isa’s footprints until the sand reclaimed them; tracking my soldiers by the moon and stars alone. Out to the far reaches of the kingdom, away from the border with Hyrule.
I saw it there.
A gaping fissure in the earth; a compressed sphere of sand above, its surface glassy and dark as if burnt by the sun, forging a black eclipse in the arid sky. It cast an ominous presence above me. I descended along the cliffs in the midday sun, finding rest along the shallow crevasses in the sun-baked earth; seeing no one, hearing nothing. Only the wind howling rough across the entrance to the abyss. The further I plunged, the more the cracks in the walls opened up, pushing deeper into the earth like the seamstress’s needle on coarse cloth. I found the entrance to the cavern far below; a tunnel rough-hewn but steady, unnatural.
I beheld the first signs of despair upon that threshold.
Empty eyes. Twisted, broken limbs. Once familiar faces contorted into mockeries of amity. Blood on their bodies and the floor and the walls and the ceiling; glittering rubies dyed crimson with the sunset draining from the sky, leeching the color from ashen skin. The final nightfall before the end.
Rhine. Luka. Ryza. Fyrani. Palu. Osa.
Their bodies haven’t even started to decay yet. Maybe it would be easier if they had. Perhaps then, they would not be so easily recognizable. That I would wish for the desecration of those I should have mourned…. The cycle begins anew like violence welling up beneath my skin.
I never want to forget this feeling. Numbness; ineptitude; guttural, sickening, twisted fury. I dared not move for fear that I would act upon my impulses. I refuse to allow her a way in.
I will not become her tool.
The silence has afforded me the time to write, but little else. I wish it were not so. I sit with them still, one final vigil in the gloam.
It is all I can offer them now, ill solace that it is; this and the promise of vengeance with every breath I take.
It is not enough.
It will never be enough.
Current emotions: wrath stability, perseverance, vengeance
—NO—
preservation
***
I cannot sleep.
I remember the carnage on the sands. Standing amid the corpses of a dozen grown men. A child. The feeling of the spear haft in my grip, battle hardened and slick with blood and sweat, sticking between the crevasses of the treated wood and freezing my hands in place. And I remember Sumiira’s eyes. Holding me, pleading. Not for her life, but for mine. She was wrong. Unseeing; the vitality in them extinguished by the ring of persecution laid lifeless at my feet. And all I could think about was what I could tell our mother. Feeling even then that I had already fallen victim to the curse of my forebears.
Enough.
If I have time to write, I have time to search.
Tonight I will return my soldiers’ remains to the desert, and press forward into the hungry earth. There are still more bodies unaccounted for.
5th day of Zenith
I am running out of time. I swept the catacombs from the early hours of the morning til the sun disappeared once more from the tenuous horizon, dripping light from the edges of the hollow eclipse hanging over me. Unable to sleep, unable to rest.
These tunnels reek of her influence. “Divine intervention”. It seeps into the floors and the walls and the air, clawing it’s way into my throat, infecting me from within. I hear voices calling in the darkness but I dare not open my mouth to respond, for fear that she will use that ingress against me.
I make haste to the depths of the labyrinth now, wondering if I lead myself to the precipice of my demise.
Current emotions: unease, impetus, melancholy
6th day of Zenith
There are other corpses still, in the tunnels. I passed ever more in my descent: those unfamiliar to me in their garments and features. And some of our own. Rotted flesh flayed beyond recognition. The stench settled heavy around me as my footfalls broke the requiem to sully the tainted ground beneath me. Alone, I walked the winding crevasses beneath the sands; alone I searched in vain for the last of the unaccounted for.
I heard them, first, but suspected another trick of the fetid air. Their silhouettes came into focus as I rounded a corner in the catacombs, stone-still and broken. But the bodies that crouched amid the blood and rubble still drew breath— their eyes desperate and wary, reflecting back the firelight of my torch. Five living in total. Makure cradled her sister’s limp body in her arms. All of them bore wounds. Even so, knowing that they yet lived strengthened my resolve and justified my quest; I was more relieved to find them than anyone may ever know.
I forged on.
I left the survivors but long enough to confirm the passing of the final two missing women; laid cold and solitary at the back of a dead-end passage. Time spared no kindness for us this day. I honor the dead by reconciling the living.
We returned through the winding paths of the chasm, ascending; emerging once more to the surface under the watchful reign of hardened glass, sun piercing the sky around its edge. I brought my warriors home. Delivered them hence to their families and their lives, carrying the wounded on my back and the dead in my heart. Yet still I feel the weight of an imminent future upon us. Tonight, I ordered the southwestern dunes closed off. I haven’t the numbers to investigate this anomaly further; and my own attention needs be turned to preparations for the inevitable conflict ahead of us.
I feel her eyes on me still; scorching my back in the candor of the sun, binding my hands and committing my mind to preclusion.
This is not the end.
Current emotions: foreboding, resolve, resistance
[Exerpts from the diary of Ganondorf, 71st King of the Gerudo.]
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foolsdiamond · 1 year ago
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karkat and dave are doing line-reading of romeo and juliet. dave wants to use it as an opportunity to be gay, but karkat takes the plot too seriously
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seonghwaddict · 10 months ago
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23:46 — song mingi
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in which your best friend is a little hard to wake up.
roommate!song mingi x fem!reader. genre. friends to lovers. fluff. timestamp. warnings. lots of kisses. wc. 1k. rating. pg-13.
lilo's notes. hiii here's a cute little mingi fic because i love him so much :3
listening to. you're mine, you!, chet baker
masterlist.
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a quiet chuckle leaves your lips as you walk into the living room, finding your roommate fast asleep on the couch. mingi snored softly, sprawled out with his black playstation controler dangling from his hand for dear life.
you just wanted to grab a snack from the kitchen, but instead you made a detour to crouch beside the couch and take the controler from his hand as gently as you could. not that taking it from him forcefully would’ve made any difference; he could sleep through a category five hurricane. once you set the controller on the small coffee table, you reached for the glasses that squished against his nose.
he didn’t stir as you nudged his shoulder gently. at first you felt bad about having to wake him, but the distinct memories of him whining about his shoulder hurting after sleeping on the couch flashed through your mind.
“mingi…” you whispered softly, nudging him again, “mingi, wake up.”
after the third nudge he muttered something, though you could quite tell what. with your hand resting on his should as he pushed his face further into the pillow beneath his head, you sighed and moved to get up. but before you could register it, a hand wrapped around your write and pulled you down on the couch, legs tangling with yours and his other hand keeping you close by the small of your back.
you held your breath as he began moving you, practically trapping you beneath his large body as he drags himself halfway on top of you, one leg slotted between yours. his short, washed-out pink hair tickled your cheek as he lifted his head to look at you. you would’ve laughed at the tired expression of his face, all pouting lips and squinting eyes.
“i tried to wake you.” your voice came out a lot higher than you intended, not realising you almost felt flustered at your current position.
his eyes fluttered shut again and he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, making you tense for a moment before relaxing. his voice gravelly in his newly awake state, he spoke against the soft skin of your neck, “why”
“you always complain about your neck hurting when you sleep on the couch, i was trying to get you to move and sleep in your bed but you wouldn’t wake up.”
your answer has him humming understandingly, nuzzling his face further into your neck. your best friend was usually quite affectionate, however, this felt different from the more common cuddles during movie nights or occasional hand holding. you chalked it up to him not being fully awake, mind still hazy from his nap. at least until you felt the first of his kisses along your neck. they were so soft they were easy to miss, yet still the unmistakable brush of his lips that you sometimes found yourself wanting to feel against yours.
still, you didn’t protest, tentatively moving one of your hands up to brush through the hair at the nape of his neck. this only encouraged him, another hum vibrating against your skin. a soft sigh slipped passed your lips as his large hand moved to the small of your back to your waist, thumb carressing you through your flimsy white tanktop. with his body pressed against yours and his lips kissing anywhere he could reach comfortably, you relaxed, letting yourself lean your head back against the plush sofa.
“mingi,” you finally pulled yourself together to ask, “what are you doing?”
“just… just holding you,” he muttered against you. his kisses were tender and didn’t hold any sense of urgency, lazy presses against your pulse. “you feel nice, you smell nice, and you’re so warm. let me just hold you for a bit, please?”
it almost sounded like he was pleading when he asked you to let him do so and you found it hard to say no. in general, you found it hard to say no to anything he asked. so, you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper and making him lift his head to look down at you. moments turned into seconds which turned into minutes as your surroundings blurred and all you could think of was the tender look in his eyes as he leaned forward. he paused, waiting to see if you’d tell him to stop, but at the sight of the slightest of nods he couldn’t hold himself back from brushing his lips against yours. his hand on your waist tightened for a second as he pulled away, holding himself up with his other hand, forearm supporting him as his face hovered above yours.
he took in the sight of you beneath him, gaze flickering all over your face as he tried to memorise the sparkling look of your round eyes and your tiny puffs of air. there’s a smile tugging at his plush lips, barely noticeable but enough to make your cheeks warm even more. and when he spoke, his voice was no longer rough with sleep, but a gentle whisper only for you to hear.
“please tell me this isn’t a dream.”
you almost laughed at the endearing question but opted to smile instead, your hands cupping his cheeks. “no, this isn’t dream.”
“good,” he spoke through a sigh, sounding oh so content, “you’re just so pretty.”
a comfortable silence washed over you as he lowered himself to press another kiss against your lips. this time he let himself stay longer, he found the taste of your lips addicting, getting lost in the way they feel against his tongue as he swiped it along your bottom lip. when you parted for air, he rested his forehead against yous, breath mingling. the rest of the night was spent through lazy kisses and loving words that left you confused at the relationship you shared with him. but before you could ask about it, you had both fallen asleep, wrapped in each others arms on the couch you had tried so hard to get him off of.
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet
taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo
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teapartyprincess4two · 9 months ago
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Affectionate- M. Sturniolo
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pairing: TouchStarved!Reader x Affectionate!Boyfriend!Matt
classification: SFW & NSFW head cannons
inspiration: request, thank you @sugrhigh for helping me figure this out luv u shnookums
warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship, slight cursing
summary: head cannons of Matt being affectionate with his touch starved girlfriend!
☆SFW
Affection and PDA isn’t something that comes naturally to you. When you and Matt first started dating, you would keep your distance, but eventually you grew used to it.
☆ When you and Matt first started dating you struggled with any and every form of physical intimacy.
☆ You’re mindlessly flicking through clothes racks at the mall. “Opinions?” Matt asks, holding a shirt in front of your face and slinging an arm over your shoulder.
☆ Subconsciously, you shrug his arm off your shoulder. “That’s cute! I like that,” you reply, scooting further away from Matt.
☆ “Okay, weirdo,” he laughs, but deep down it hurt every time you shied away from him. He tried not to look too into it, but it seemed like you were always avoiding his touch.
☆ “I’ll be back, babe. I’m gonna take Chris to the store,” Matt informs you as he throws his wallet and phone into his pocket.
☆ “Okay, have fun,” you reply simply. Matt stands in front of you fully expecting a quick kiss or even a hug, but you return to your previous activity.
☆ He leaves feeling sad, but still doesn’t bring it up.
☆ It goes on like this for a while, and Matt tries his best to see past it.
☆ You’re currently at an influencer event. The venue is crowded, loud, and overstimulating, forcing you to remain at Matt’s side for the entire night.
☆ He introduces you to a few of his friends, “Hey guys, this is my girlfriend Y/n.” His arms wrap around your waist, immediately causing your body to stiffen.
☆ “Hi,” you say meekly. Matt pulls you in closer, resting his head on your shoulder and peppering your face with kisses.
☆ When you keep leaning away from him, he stops and lets go of you completely. It bothers him enough for him to bring it up once you’re home.
☆ “Y/n, can we talk?” he asks, leaning on the restroom doorframe as you wash your face. You hum in response.
☆ Matt takes a deep breath, preparing to ask the question he’s been dreading the answer to. “Are you embarrassed of me?“
☆ It catches you off guard, “What? No! Why would you even ask that?”
☆ He rolls his eyes, “Because you never let me hug or kiss you.” No response from you, you don’t even know what to say.
☆ The conversation starts innocently but quickly becomes an argument. Matt keeps pushing the subject no matter how hard you try to avoid it, asking you questions you don’t know how to answer.
☆ “it’s not my fault you’re clingy!” you exclaim, throwing exasperated hands in the air. Matt nods his head slowly as his lips form a tight lipped smile.
☆ He doesn’t say anything else, instead leaving to your shared bedroom before he says something he’ll regret.
☆ You immediately wish you could take the words back. “Matt?” your voice is quiet as you enter the room, slowly crawling over to his figure on the bed.
☆ His back is to you. You snake an arm around his waist and apologize for everything you said.
☆ “Do you actually think I’m clingy?” he asks, looking at you over his shoulder. “No, I’m sorry. I struggle with the whole PDA thing, but I’m gonna try and work through it okay?”
☆ From that moment forward, you’re much more conscious of your actions.
☆ Matt will hug you, kiss you, or hold your hand in public and you no longer pull away.
☆ Instead you’re pulling him in for a longer kiss than he intended. And eventually you’re the one who initiates the PDA.
☆ You and Matt are sat on a picnic blanket, watching as the sun begins to set. “My back hurts,” he mumbles, shifting uncomfortably in his spot.
☆ You mindlessly scoot closer to him, pulling his body in until it’s resting against your chest.
☆ He gives you a surprised look, “Literally who are you and WHAT did you do to my girlfriend?”
☆ “Shush,” you chuckle, placing soft kisses all over his face.
☆ Other times, you’ll just seek his touch when you’re alone.
☆ “What’s taking so long?” you ask. Matt’s been stirring the pasta for what seems like forever.
☆ “It’s almost done, you goof,” he laughs. You groan, resting your head on his back and wrapping your arms around his waist.
☆ “You smell good,” you murmur, earning a dopey smile from him.
☆ NSFW
The lack of affection can be attributed to a lot of things, and Matt knows that, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Sometimes, he can only think of one way to teach you a lesson.
☆ “What the fuck was that?” Matt grits, referring to the scene you caused in front of his friends. All he wanted to do was kiss you, but you dodged the kiss so aggressively that it was embarrassing.
☆ “Here we go again,” you say. “I’m not doing this right now, Matt,” you turn on your heels, ready to escape the conversation.
☆ “You are doing this right now actually.” He grabs you by your elbow, pulling you into him abruptly.
☆ “You think it’s cute to embarrass me in front of my friends like that?” his voice is low, his breath fanning against your neck with each word. You’re slightly intimidated, but mostly aroused.
☆ He holds a firm grip on your neck, bringing you in for a hungry kiss.
☆ Before you know it, he’s fucking you in front of the bathroom mirror. “Look at how fucked out I have you,” he growls, “remember this next time you wanna act stupid.”
☆ Other times, he’s just so extremely touch starved.
☆ Matt trails kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone, kisses that you’re trying to avoid.
☆ “I’m busy, Matt,” you whisper, but with each kiss your breath becomes choppier.
☆ “But I need you,” he whines, pressing his erection into your lower back.
☆ “Later,” you try and reason, but he’s not listening.
☆ That’s what leads to you riding him on the couch until he’s so overstimulated his eyes tear up.
☆ “I can’t—,” he whimpers. “You can,” your voice is firm. “You begged for this, baby. Don’t you remember?”
☆ He clenches his eyes shut, fists bawled at his side. His teeth bite so deep into his lip that he draws blood, orgasming for the 5th time.
MASTERLIST
A/n: you stumped me with this rec anon lolol had to pull out the reinforcements ( @sugrhigh )
- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @sturnioloarchive @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @aurizp @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @stingerayyy2 @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @mimi-luvzyu @somegirlfromasgard @l0vergrlll @pepsicolapussy333 @unbruisable @sugrhigh
note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(
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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 1 month ago
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Tease
Steve Harrington x Reader
18+ Only! Minors DNI!
CW: SMUT AHEAD! No use of Y/N. Pet names used. Reader has a vagina. Teasing. Oral (male receiving). Unprotected P in V. Creampie.
WC: 1.6K
His body is flushed and sweaty, chest heaving with every breath, sprawled out across the bed, boxers still on, hands cuffed above his head and securely attached to the headboard.
You chance a glance up to see his eyes screwed shut, face twisted in pleasure, pressed into his arm, teeth grazing his bicep to keep another whimper at bay while you're practically torturing him. You pause your current ministrations to truly look at him, cheeks and ears tinged pink along with his soft pouty lips, tousled brown locks sticking to his forehead.
You smirk at the mess you’ve made of him, blooms of maroon and dark purples along his neck and collar bones. There are faint teeth marks at the juncture of his throat where it meets his shoulder. A thin sheen of sweat mats down the hair across his chest, while his skin is glistening in the low light.
Beautiful. Your sweet, angelic boyfriend that lets you corrupt him like this.
He takes a shuddering breath, picking his head up, letting his gaze fall down to you when he realizes you’ve stopped. His honey hued irises a mere ring surrounding the inky black pupils blown wide with lust but the look on his face is soft, filled with a pure adoration.
His brow furrows slightly, lips parting, about to say something but you speak up.
“So pretty, Stevie.” You smile, lazy and saccharine. “Such a good boy for me.”
You watch the heat go to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, turning the pink to a slight shade of red at the praise as he lets out a small moan, closing his eyes as his head falls back against the pillow. For someone like Steve, who never seemed to get embarrassed you could easily fluster him with just a few simple words. Only you got to see him like this, the vulnerable side that let you take the lead and let him forget about the rest of the world.
You lean back down and mouth hot against cock, only the thin fabric separating you, already soaked through with your saliva and his precum as he almost growls, a deep rumble emanating from the back of his throat as his hips thrust up, searching for more. He's already so hard it’s starting to ache. You’ve been going at it for the last half hour and know he’s close to begging for relief at this point.
“Goddamnit baby.” He hisses through gritted teeth, bucking up again when your teeth lightly nip at him.
You hum, lips working over him still, before pulling back once more. “Do you think you've been good enough to cum for me Stevie?”
“God yes, please. Yes.” He whimpers out as your fingertips hook into his waistband, eyes meeting yours with a frenzied plea.
“Please… what baby?” You ask, voice dripping with sugar, taking the opportunity to tease him a little further.
“Please… let me cum…” He breathes out ragged and on edge, futilely pulling at the cuffs while you slowly pull his underwear down his legs as his cock is finally set free of its confinement. You hear the faintest moan as he melts back into the mattress.
The boxers are thrown somewhere across the room to join the rest of his clothing, but your eyes never leave him. His thick cock is resting toward his stomach, the tip an angry shade of red and leaking, making a mess of his happy trail. Leaning over, you plant a kiss to his hip as it kicks up, a thin thread of sticky spend right below his navel connecting back to his head.
“Honey… I… I can’t take all the teasing tonight. Please!” He begs and something in his voice lets you know he was telling the truth. He was too wound up.
“Shhh baby.” You coo. “Just relax. I've got you.”
Flattening your tongue, you carve a path up his hip bone, then across his stomach. His muscles tighten beneath you as he groans and writhes, still not reaching its intended target just yet, drawing it out a little more just to hear his breathy pleading.
“F—fuuuuuck honey…” He moans, as you grin, tongue flicking across his slippery tip.
“Mmmm… taste so good, Stevie.”
“Goddamn… yes.” He hisses, voice strained, as you wrap your hand around him, thumb swirling at his sensitive head catching and smearing his spend, spitting on his length to give you more to work with.
Schlick sounds fill the room along with his moans as your hand continues to work him up and down, up and down at a mere leisurely pace, giving him just enough to keep him satisfied but not enough to give him the relief he so desperately craves.
He whines as you pull your hand away and just for a moment, he thinks you're going to prolong his torture.
“Mouth or pussy?” You ask, another moan falling from his lips before he answers, voice hoarse and ragged, filled with need.
“P—pussy. Pussy! God, I need t’feel you.”
It was a silly question, really. You knew the answer before uttering it. He would rather cum in you, than waste it on a blowjob.
You start to clamber back up his body and situate yourself on his lap, trapping his cock between his stomach and your soaked folds.
It takes all of his will power not to drive his hips up into yours, letting you have control, as you line him up to your entrance. He watches you slowly sink down onto his throbbing cock. It was always a stretch, but you took him so well.
His eyes dart between your face and where the two of you were connected, as your own head falls back, hands splayed across his chest as you continued the slow, torturous task of taking him in, inch by inch, feeling every vein and ridge on the descent.
His face holds a mixture of both pain and pleasure, parted lips releasing a chorus of moans and whines as you spear yourself on his length.
“Mmmm… so big!” You cry out, eyes rolling back as his tip nudges your cervix letting you know you couldn't possibly take anymore, pausing briefly to catch your breath and ready yourself.
“That's it baby, takin’ me so fuckin' good.” He praises with a lopsided grin, making your pussy flutter around him with need, eliciting a hiss from him. “Fuck, m’not gonna last if you keep doing that.”
“S'okay baby.” You breathe out as your hips start to move. “All about you tonight.”
He starts to protest, but he can already feel himself on the edge of a losing battle, nodding and closing his eyes.
You lean back, placing your hands behind you gripping his knees for leverage as you start to bounce. He can't help himself from thrusting in time to meet you, as you both set a steady rhythm.
He's hanging on by a thread, each time he disappears inside you, his lower stomach clenches a little more, his balls tightening up with his impending release.
“F—fuck honey, jus— just like that.” He rushes out, eyes fixed on your naked form, as his cock slides in and out of your tight cunt.
“Cum for me baby!” You cry out, and that's all it takes to push him over.
He thrusts once, twice, three times before he's spilling hot and heavy inside you, giving you every last drop that he has with a deep grunt. He stills his hips to let you ride him through it, his chest heaving from the exertion.
“Baby… baby…” He whimpers, still twitching inside you, your greedy pussy wanting more, slowing your hips to a lazy roll as you drape yourself back over him.
“Mmmm. Bet that felt so good.” Your lips find his neck, trailing up his jaw. He's practically boneless beneath you, still trying to catch his breath as your hips grind to a halt.
He hums in response, thoroughly spent, a shiver running through him. His eyes flutter open to see you staring back at him with hearts in your eyes before leaning over him to retrieve the key from the nightstand to unlock him.
The cuffs slip away with a small audible click, his arms falling to either side of his head as you begin to ease up from his lap, tossing the cuffs back into the drawer but he stops you by throwing his arms around your waist holding you firmly to him.
“Mmph, no. No.” He murmurs, pulling you chest to chest, feeling his cock stir once more. “Don't go.”
In one fluid motion, he grips your hip and maneuvers you onto your back, head hitting the pillow before you had time to process what was happening.
“Oh.” You giggle. “Not done yet?”
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in, hips pushing lazily back into yours when he becomes rigid once again, his cum leaking out from around his thick cock.
Whatever words you had die on your tongue, as all thoughts are pushed from your mind with each slow and steady roll of his hips.
He kisses up your neck, just under your jaw before whispering in your ear.
“It’s your turn, pretty girl. Gonna fill this pussy over and over again.” He kisses your cheek sweetly as if he didn't just let those filthy words escape, before his next thrust takes your breath away. “Hang on angel, we’ve got all night.”
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hiraethwa · 3 months ago
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kageyama tobio isn’t normally so possessive. impatient. 
but tonight especially he feels his control fray rapidly, like a spark of fire consuming everything in its path, blazing through his sanity. 
he nurses a drink by the corner of the room, gaze pinned on you and the man you are talking to in hopes of securing his investment for your project. “be nice,” you had told him, bringing him as your date to this fancy gala event for your work. of course he is immensely proud of you, who had climbed the ranks rapidly to become one of the youngest associate directors in the history of your company. 
though unfortunately, that also means dealing with men who are used to getting their way and fending off their shameless advances despite the gold band that sits securely around your ring finger.
if the man who is currently flirting with you unsuccessfully is the fire to his senses, then you are the flint that sets off the sparks that quickly razes it to the ground. he really shouldn’t have let you leave the house like that—bejeweled heels gracing your feet, further emphasizing your commanding stature that draped in satin fabric. fuck.
tobio slides his gaze over to the man, only to find him already looking at him with a smile. oh, i see how it is. 
he feels his eye twitch at the audacity of men as he makes his way over to you, his instinct to mark his territory taking over any shred of reasoning that was left. 
“hey,” tobio greets you, hand moving to rest on the curve of your hips without thinking. 
you nail him with a look that he loosely translates to ‘don’t forget what i told you’. he sighs internally before turning to the man you were talking to, offering his hand in introduction. “kageyama tobio, nice to meet you.”
a strange sensation floods his mind temporarily, before tobio identifies it as envy. not envy over him flirting with you—he has learnt how to ignore men’s attempts of advances on you, like you had learnt how to brush them off and turn the conversation in another direction. 
tobio blinks at the man, realizing just how pretty he is.
“excuse us for a moment.” you smile sweetly at the man before pulling him away from the event hall. 
you take a few turns into an alcove hidden from prying eyes, that sharp gaze of yours making his blood boil just a few degrees higher. 
so commanding and alluring, and you’re his.
he pays your surprise no mind, backing you up against the upholstered wall and dropping his head in the crook of your head, breathing your addicting scent in. 
“tobio, w–” your breath hitches, confidence stuttering for a quick second as you feel his lips on your neck, trailing kisses down the length of it before returning to the base, latching on the spot he knows so well and sucking. “what are you d–doing?”
“marking my territory, what do you think?” he retorts, hand roaming up from his strong grip on your waists. traveling up, up, fingers ghosting over the underside of your breasts before continuing on their journey. 
you wait, breath abated, as his hand—fuck, those hands that make you lose your mind from how well they know your body, your weak spots—just grazes over your nipples, separated by the satin fabric that you chose, knowing full well it would drive your husband insane, your own choices now coming back to bite you in the ass.
a whimper leaves your lips, lips that he intends to leave swollen by the time you step back into the hall, at the lack of attention, when he would normally torture you with pleasure, rolling the pink buds between his skillful fingers. 
his hand comes to a rest cupping the side of your face, thumb brushing over your plump bottom lip, and your lips fall open instinctively. you gasp at the possessiveness in his eyes, as he experimentally gives the hair gathered into an updo at the back of your head a light tug, testing the waters. 
tobio’s own heart betrays him, accelerating at the sight of you being so pliant before him. he thinks he surprises even himself, when his own lips part involuntarily, the word falling from them, “suck.” 
he slips two fingers into your mouth, rationale really leaving him this time, as you obey him without hesitation, your soft tongue lapping at the pads of his fingers before applying pressure to do as you are told. 
“f–fuck. look at you, being so obedient.”
tobio bunches the smooth satin fabric around your waist with his free hand, “hold it up for me, like the good girl you are, hm?” you nod, unable to speak with your mouth occupied by his fingers, obliging his request with shaky hands.
he withdraws his fingers from you with a soft pop!, digits trailing south towards where you need him the most. he nudges your squeezed thighs apart with his knee, you trying to resist ever so slightly before giving in to his desires with a heated look from him. 
his thumb pulls the fabric of your panties out of his way, fingers immediately feeling the wetness that has pooled there. he teases your folds lightly, ghosting over your clit, leaving you breathless and begging for more with your doe eyes. 
“what is it?” tobio leans in towards you, his lips so close and almost on yours. you whine, chasing his lips but he is quicker, moving away before you can catch him. 
“t–tobio, please.” he nods in encouragement, fingers slipping through your hair again, tugging you open for him to slot his lips over yours, enveloping those sinful lips in a needy kiss. 
he smiles into the kiss, as he feels more than hears the vibrations of your moan resounding through him when he plunges two fingers into you at the same time. 
gods, tobio doesn’t think he would ever feel like he got enough of this, of you falling apart before him, heavy and messy kisses exchanged between you, as he desperately tries to get more of you, lips tender and swollen as he presses on, showing his heavy need for you through his kisses, teeth tugging at your bottom lip. he never does.
his fingers move on their own accord, pressing lightly against your spot before withdrawing fully, and returning to your warmth which envelops him fully, flooding his senses. 
tobio gathers your moans into his mouth, dampening the sounds that overflow into the dark hallway just in case of any passersby, frowning slightly at the thought of strangers hearing the muted whimpers that are only for his ears. 
he pours that possessiveness into his ministrations, fingers rubbing relentlessly against your sweet spot, as you break away from his lips for air. your mouth falls open into a silent broken moan, eyes rolling backwards, seeing heavens itself, as you come apart on his fingers. 
this. tobio admires the sight of you falling apart for him. this is for his eyes only. 
you whine at the loss of his fingers sheathed deep in you as he leaves you empty, unfilled, adjusting your panties back in place.
“later, that is, if you are being good,” tobio reminds you as he licks his fingers clean, his pocketsquare being put to use as he wipes off the slick on your thighs gently before moving on to his own hands. he stuffs the ruined fabric into the pocket of his pants.
you blush, head falling against his chest to hide your embarrassment, tender silence wrapping around you as both of you attempt to gather your wits. 
“ready?” tobio noses the curve of your ear once your breathing pattern returns to normal. you take his extended hand, letting him pull you along back to duty, checking your hair in the reflection of a mirror as you pass by. 
your mind wanders to the man that prompted your husband’s sudden possessiveness just as you arrive at the doors. “you know, the man i was talking to? i was actually fending him off from you.”
tags. @daisy-room @bakery-anon @hatsukeii tobio nation. @hiraethwa @shouyuus @yogurtkags @mcdonaldsnumberone a/n. ohhhh i had so much fun with this, lightly edited <3 (yes i did lose my last shred of sanity)
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f1fantasys · 8 months ago
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Missed You
Summary - basically Y/N and Lando smut 😈
Warnings - smut, phone sex, p in v sex, swearing.
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''Hey Lan!'' you smile from ear to ear upon seeing your boyfriend appear on your phone screen.
''Hi baby, I miss you'' he cooed, settling himself into bed and smiling back at you.
He was currently in Belgium for the GP but you had to stay back in Monaco due to work. Yes you called and texted as much as you could, but this trip was turning about to be a difficult one. You both missed each other a lot.
''I miss you too, but just a few more days until I'm back in your arms'' you replied back.
''Yeah baby, few more days. What are you-'' he stopped short and took a deep breath in when he saw what you were wearing while your back was facing the screen.
You were sporting one of his Mclaren t-shirts that had his name and number at the back. He knew exactly which one too, because it had shrunk in the dryer and had become much smaller and shorter, which gave him the hottest view of your black lacy panties beeping through the bottom.
''Fuck Y/N, you can't tease me like that. Your back was still facing him as you were making a coffee. You smiled to yourself, knowing you would get this exact reaction from him.
You turned around, face innocent. ''I don't know what you're talking about.'' You smirked as you took a sip of your drink.
''As if' he cheekily said. ''Might as well give me a show since you started it.'' it sounded like he was begging.
''Hmmm, depends. What do I get in return?'' you asked.
''Well, for starters-'' he flipped his camera around, showing himself cupping his already painfully swollen dick, dripping with pre-cum.
''Yeah okay fine, phone sex it is'' you wasted no time in replying, already feeling the heat pooling between your legs.
''Forget your coffee darling, go to the bedroom.''
''Uh huh'' was all you could form, not able to get the image of his dick out of mind.
You climbed onto your bed and positioned your phone against one of the pillows.
''Lando'' you breathed. Your turn to sound like you're begging.
''Take your panties off, leave the t-shirt on'' he instructed, eyes glued to his screen.
You slid off your panties to reveal your soaking cunt, literally dripping with juices.
''What would you do if I was there? he asked.
You decided to tease him a bit. You looked at him with doe eyes and said ''Play with myself,'' sounding more serious than you intended to.
He raised his eyebrows ''Yeah? Is that really what you'd do?'' he teased.
You couldn't hold in your laugh. ''JK, I'd probably suck you off'' you said as you bought your fingers down and started touching yourself.
''Fuck baby, I want nothing more than to feel your mouth on me. Shit, wish I was there to swallow that all up.'' he almost whispered. ''Scoop it all up and taste it.'' he continued.
You did as you were told, collecting all your juices and bringing your finger up to your mouth, moaning when you tasted yourself.
By now Lando had also positioned himself so you could see all of him. He took his cock back in his hands and started pumping himself.
''That's it. Now play with yourself Y/N'' he instructed further.
You brought your hands back to your throbbing cunt and slid your finger through your folds, pinching at your clit and rubbing tiny circles against it.
You knew your fingers were nothing compared to his, but to watch him in complete awe at watching you touch yourself? That was something you could get used to.
''Wish you were here Lan, need to feel your rough fingers in me'' you said between breathes. The thought of that alone already bringing you closer to the edge.
''Soon baby, but now slide two fingers in, all the way up'' he just about managed to say, also reaching his peak quicker than expected.
You inserted two fingers at once and started pumping them in and out, not struggling at all due to your own lube of juices.
''Oh, fuck, yes'' you moaned, while cupping your boobs with your other hand and pinching your peaked nipples through the thin material of your t-shirt.
''I-I didn't tell you to do that, but fuck me that's hot, Y/N''
You could feel yourself almost tip at the edge as your walls started clenching around your fingers, movements getting sloppier by the second. Your thumb found your clit again and in seconds you came crashing down.
''Lan, oh my god'' you grunted through gritted teeth, easing your fingers down to ride your through your orgasm.
''Look at me'' he instructed again. By now his movements were also being eratic while he bit on his bottom lip. Suddenly you were horny all over again, so your fingers went back to pumping in and out of you, faster than before.
''Go on Lan, fuck'' you muttered.
''Could say the same thing about you. Sitting there playing with yourself, wishing it was my head between your legs. Fuck I'm so hard, you don't know what you're doing to me'' he grunted.
It didn't take long for you to reach your second orgasm, crying out his name at the stimulation but also trying to focus on him and what his hands were doing.
''I'm close. I'm gonna -'' and before he could finish he was painting his stomach white with sheets of cum. That sight alone could have killed you.
Both of you, unable to talk, just breathless, the look of pure bliss on your faces.
When you finally regained some coherent thoughts you wanted, not needed to see something.
''Lan, taste yourself, please'' know you were actually begging, wanting nothing more than to see him do it.
He smirked, ''that dirty little mouth of yours'', before coating his fingers in his splutter and licking them clean, moaning at the taste.
''Fuck Lando I'm wet again'', not even surprised you were. '''Need to feel you in me'' you pouted, as if he would magically appear in front of you, ready to thrust into you.
''Y/N to earth,'' he laughed. ''Get one of your toys'''he demanded.
Quickly, too quickly, you reached under the bed to find your small of of toys. ''Which one?'' you asked him, holding up a dildo in one hand and a vibrator in the other.
''Fuck, both. Start with the vibrator, and stake your top off. Let me see those pretty boobs'' he said, breathless again, cupping himself, again.
You wasted no time in turning it to the highest setting, bringing it down to slide it through your folds, keeping it there for a few minutes while you and Lando exchanged looks, grunts, moans, trying to get each other off again.
When he'd had 'enough' of the vibrator, he told you to switch to the dildo, and making you place your camera to a better view of your hole so he could properly see it pumping in and a out of you.
It was a large one, not as large as Lando's dick, but it would to the job. You slid it in in a single movement, then stayed still for a few seconds to adjust yourself to the size.
As the pleasure started to overtake the pain, you started a steady rhythm, thrusting it in and out of your cunt, eyes glued to watching Lando, mouth agape and fiddling with his balls as he was pumping his cock.
''That's it baby, but go faster, please. I'm not gonna last long watching you like this'' he begged you.
You increased your pace, fucking the dildo into yourself, grunts and moans leaving your mouth as your free hand pinched your nipples again.
'''Lan I can't, I-I-I'm gonna come'' and not 2 seconds later your body was shaking, blissfully fucked out, and your eyes closed and you heart Lando mutter a few 'fucks' while emptying himself out again.
''Fucking love you' he said as you both tried to calm down and get your breathing back to normal.
You smiled at him. ''Love you too, now please come home soon. I need you.''
''Soon baby.'' he said as you both fell into a deep slumber.
Race day was finally here and Lando secured a well-deserved P2. You watched your TV and he grinned like he was a kid who was at Disneyland. He really was the hottest but most adorable boy. He was finally coming home to you tomorrow, and you wanted to get a good nights sleep in because you were sure of it - as soon as he walked through those doors tomorrow - you were going to jump him. Show him how much you missed him.
As you were in a deep sleep you felt something shift next to you in the bed. Your eyes shot open with a fright and were met with the beautiful eyes of your boyfriend.
''Lando!'' you shrieked, sitting up and all but jumping into his arms. Partly forgetting you went to bed naked, so you were surprised when he swore and pulled back faster than you would have liked, and checked you out as he would his dream car.
''Fuck baby, best welcome home surprise ever'' he said, still gaping at your body.
''Well,' you started, 'I wasn't expecting you home so early'' you said, trying to cover yourself with the blanket. But of course he ripped it off of you and threw it on the floor.
He didn't even say anything. He just pushed to back down and hovered above you. Bringing his lips down to meet yours in a fiery kiss that had your toes curling.
''Missed you so much'' he whispered between the kisses as he let his tongue slide into your mouth and explore it.
''Show me how much'' you boldly said.
He quickly shimmied his body down yours and opened your legs, wasting no time in licking a strip up your cunt. You hadn't realized how wet you already were until he started sucking and the noises of your juices in combination with his mouth were somewhat obscene, feeling the graze of his beard scratching at your most sensitive parts.
''Fuck, Lando, please, need more'' you begged him.
''Patience, baby-girl. We have all night'' he smiled as he continues his slaughter.
Lando then quickly thrust two fingers into your cunt at once, giving you no time to react. And by now the noises leaving your mouth were nothing short of filthy.
''So fucking wet for me baby-girl. Were you that desperate for my touch?'' he asked. But you were too blissed out to answer, so you just nodded your head. Abruptly, his movements stopped and you whined.
''Lan, please'' but he stayed still. You opened your eyes to find his, boring into yours. ''Words, Y/N'''he said sternly.
''Fuck Lando. Always desperate for your touch'' you said through breathy moans. You gave him what he wanted to hear because it was true, you were so desperate for him.
In no time your body was trembling under Lando and you couldn't help but release your juices into his mouth, making him moan at the taste and sight of you.
''So delici-'' but before he could finish you cut him off, pushing him off of you and sitting up on your knees.
'''Need to taste you, please'' you all but begged, while he was just shocked at your quick turn around. But who was he to deny you anything.
Lando sat against the headboard as you pulled his boxers down to see his cock standing hard and tall, swollen, begging for attention. You took him in your hand and fondled with it, paying some attention to his balls too.
''Y/N, please. Fuck. Please''
You smirked with innocent eyes. ''Patience, we have all night.''
''You're trouble'' he mumbled before he felt you take the tip of him in your mouth. You swirled you tongue around, tasting his pre-cum, before sucking lightly. This made him jerk forward, involuntarily, almost hurting you in the process.
''Shit Y/N, are you okay?'' he asked, taking your face in his hands, worry evident in his eyes.
''Never better'' you said, pushing him back and continuing with your activities. This time, you took more of him in your mouth. As much as your could. Feeling him throb in your mouth.
Lando's hands found place in your hair, holding it back and also using it a leverage to fuck into your mouth.
In no time you were gagging, tears beginning to sting the corners of your eyes. You could also tell he was getting close because of the way his movements were getting sloppier by the second, and not to mention it sounded like a porno was happening in your room right now. Lando's moans and grunts, your mouth sounding sloppy with spit running down your body.
''Baby, as much as I wanna cum in your mouth, I need to be inside of you, like 5 minutes ago. Please.'' he begged.
You didn't need much convincing, quickly freeing his cock from your mouth and turning your body around, on your all fours.
Lando quickly got up, pumped himself a few times, and lined himself at your entrance.
He slid in with ease , both your moans long and breathless. Finally getting the feeling you've craved intensively for a while now.
He pulled back out and slammed into you again, wasting no time, setting a rough and fast pace. His balls were slapping against your body whenever he re-entered you.
''Fuck, Lando, please, harder, faster'' you begged him.
But Lando was truly in his own world, with one goal in mind - fucking you harder than every before. He hand slapped your ass a few times as once again, the noise of your bodies slamming together, moans and grunts filling the room.
You hoped your neighbors weren't home, sure they could hear what was going on. But within a second you secretly hoped they were, so the could hear how good Lando was making you feel.
Lando pulled your body back now now you were just on your knees, putting all of your weight on Lando. His hands massaged your boobs as he started nibbling at your neck, marking you as his, leaving bruises for sure, all the while fucking into you from behind.
''M'close'' you muttered and with no warning your orgasm came upon you. Legs trembling, barely able to hold yourself up and Land snaked his arms around you.
''I know you have a lot more in you. Taking me so fucking well. That's it, keep going'' he whispered in your ear. To no surprise, you came again, and again. Pussy aching for sure, but also not getting enough of Lando, who was now chasing his own release.
He pulled out and climbed off the bed, flipping you on your back and dragged your body to the edge, now able to pound into you from this new angle, which was reaching all the right places within in die to the force he was using.
''Lan, please, no more'' you begged.
''One more angel, with me, please.'' he panted as he brought his lips down to your in an assuring kiss, before lowering his mouth again and sucking on your nipples, biting at them harshly.
Your hands now playing and pulling at his curls.
Now he was getting frisky and sloppy, at the edge of release, as you felt yourself let go, crying out his name.
''Holy fuck Y/N'' was all he said as he came in your cunt. Sheets of warm splutter, literally filling you to the brink.
Lando's own body threatening to quiver, he pulled out of you, both of you moaning at the loss of contact. But seeing his cum drip out of your pussy bit by bit, he couldn't help but scoop some in his mouth and eventually spit it into your own mouth.
He collapsed onto you, kissing you with no urgency but just a lazy, slow make out session and you pulled him as close as possible, not wanting to let go.
After a while though, the stickiness between you was drying up, so Lando got up to get a warm cloth to wipe you both down before climbing into bed with you and pulling you close. Both exhausted and fucked out to even say anything but ''I love you.''
When you woke the next morning it took you a second to remember why you were aching down there. But then you felt his arm slide around your body and pull you closer, and all the memories came flooding back.
You couldn't help but smile as you turned around to see Lando beaming at you.
''Morning baby'' he said, rather loudly.
''Good morning Lan, but why the fuck are you talking so loudly and why are you smiling like that? you exclaimed.
''Errrr, just happy to have you back in my arms, that's all.'' he said as he pecked your nose.
''Likewise, Lan. I really missed you this time round'' you said, kissing him on the lips, hard.
''Sooooo, shower?'' he asked.
''As much as i want to, I'm so sore Lando. You really did a number on me last night!''
''Just shows you how much of an effect you have on me babe.''
''Yeahhhh, but still. I love you, but go shower by yourself, because I'm not sure I can even walk right now.''
''Then my work here is done.'' he said, climbing out of bed, leaving you scoffing.
He walked to the bathroom, butt-naked, before disappearing in it. You watched in awe. His messy curls. His toned body. His morning scruff. His morning wood, standing hard and tall. Heat already pooling between your legs.
Not 2 seconds later and he popped his head out.
''You coming?'' he asked, quite seriously.
And you couldn't have jumped out of bed faster even if you wanted to.
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wickedapostate · 7 months ago
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Veilguard Intended Romance Statistics
While of course nothing is set in stone at the moment, I am very curious about who is intending to romance each of the companions of Veilguard. So I've put together surveys for each covering information about the Rook along with the other main characters of the worldstate they're from, excluding the Orlesian Warden-Commander.
These surveys have been put together exclusively on mobile, so if they have any problems that likely is why. Please do inform me though if there are any critical issues or exclusions.
At some point, at maximum the Veilguard release date, these surveys will be closed and I'll be compiling the information from them and posting it here. This is because I'm currently most interested in the pre-release trends and documenting them, I am certain there will be similar surveys after the game is released.
I am looking for as big a sample size as possible, so please feel free to share this far and wide in any Dragon Age related groups and spaces you may be part of.
Without further ado, the surveys. Please take any you feel are applicable to who you are planning to romance in Veilguard.
Bellara
Davrin
Emmerich Volkarin
Lace Harding
Lucanis Dellamorte
Neve Gallus
Taash
Update: October 30th 2024 is now when these surveys will close!
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avelera · 11 days ago
Note
Thank you for talking about how Viktor wouldn't be mean to Jayce! I do really agree that fandom really tries to boil them down to their basics or preexisting tropes and it really sucks to see people think he'd really insult Jayce or hit him with his cane. Something I started thinking about after I read that post is that so much of the cast are Zaunite and nearly every one of them are sharp-tongued, and so maybe that's why people think Viktor would be mean? But that doesn't really take into account his personality or how he might feel he has to present himself as someone from Zaun living in Piltover.
Yeah the "hitting with the cane" trope definitely feels OOC for him to me. I could maybe see him tapping or hooking Jayce to get his attention but... even then. We rarely see Viktor use his cane or crutch for anything but their intended purpose.
If I may extrapolate out, I find it notable that when he has the cane pre-time skip he leaves it aside when possible, like when standing at the blackboard, and tries to mask his disability. I know for many people with disabilities, they love their aids, and the aids given them freedom of movement and from pain, but I would venture to say that Viktor does not see his crutch or his cane all that favorably.
I think Viktor sees his disability aids as necessary indignities that he'd rather do without if he could. See how quickly he drops his crutch once he tests out being able to run post-experimentation. He probably only goes back and gets it, rather than abandoning it there, because he wants to continue to hide the experiments he's doing.
Combine that with Jayce noting how he saw his leg as a "weakness" and I think there is further evidence that Viktor sees his crutch or cane rather negatively.
Which is a roundabout way of saying, I don't think Viktor would use his crutch or his cane as a hook or a bludgeon against Jayce not only because he's arguably the most pacifistic character in the whole show, but also because I don't think he really likes using it or thinking about it for anything but its intended purpose of assisting his mobility. I think Jayce views Viktor's crutch more favorably than Viktor does, he sees it as a part of Viktor in a positive way, an extension of him.
As for the topic of Zaun, I do agree that I think some fics give Viktor more of a, hmm, "class consciousness" around Zaun than he's shown to have?
For example:
Viktor only ever calls it "the undercity" in S1. Calling it Zaun at all is something that radicals like Silco do, it's even implied that Silco is kind of resurrecting a long-dead name for the area as part of his separatist movement, so it might not even be in wide use beyond Silco's circles, like Viktor may not have even really heard of it as a common term in S1. In addition, if "Zaun" is a politically charged term, I wouldn't be surprised if Viktor would avoid calling it that at all, because he's not a separatist or a radical, he's just from there and he thinks of it as "the undercity". Viktor is not shown as someone from the undercity who really wants to rock the boat in Piltover politically and he's certainly not a separatist, he wants to help the undercity as a disadvantaged community within Piltover.
The only time I think we see Viktor call it "Zaun" is somewhat in the abstract in S2, when he admires Vander's vision for "Zaun as it could have been". To me, it felt like he was discussing Zaun as a distant ideal rather than as the place where he was currently located or a political identity he identified with. He admires that other people who are more political than him had a cohesive vision for something the undercity that Viktor knows could become.
Viktor is actually incredibly apolitical, which is interesting when you consider he was assistant to Heimerdinger, who was head of the Council. He considers Jayce's time as a Councilor a "waste of our time", it never even occurs to him to use that political power to improve lives in the undercity, instead of science. In general Viktor tends to be pretty blind to other discipline besides science when it comes to bettering the world, and is even dismissive of them, which I think is a bit narrow-minded of him to be honest.
Viktor's dismissiveness towards anything that isn't science when it comes to improving lives is certainly a factor in how his and Jayce's relationship becomes strained in S1, he never sees Jayce's work as a Councilor as potentially offering a broader avenue for achieving their goals to help the undercity, not once, which is actually rather baffling and interesting that he has this blindspot (possibly because of my theory that at a certain point in S1, once he knows he's rapidly dying, Viktor is only using "helping the undercity" as a smokescreen to others but mostly himself to cover up his shame for the fact he really just wants to use Hextech to save himself while the undercity has become secondary, but he doesn't want to admit that. That also explains his shame when he sees Sky's notes and realizes he's been trying to save himself to the exclusion of all else, that he's lost sight of his larger goals and dreams.)
Even when Viktor starts the cult in the undercity, it's not a politically motivated enclave, he doesn't describe it as part of a Zaunite movement. It really is just posed as a refuge for those in need, separate entirely I would argue from the Piltover vs. Zaun conflict, unlike Ekko's Firelights who provide shelter AND do community action and freedom fighting. Indeed, Viktor heals Salo, a Councilor, the most privileged of the privileged from Piltover. I'd argue this is an additional sign that he is "colorblind" when it comes to the conflict between the two cities.
Finally, I would argue that Viktor is from a generation that somewhat precedes the class conflicts and brewing civil war between Piltover and the undercity. I think he's from a generation where the cities were still linked enough that they were more like the "good" and the "bad" side of the tracks. He was smart enough to get out and make something of himself in the big city, he has a goal of helping to uplift those he left behind, but he sees them as one city still even if he has sympathy later for a separatist movement. The way he talks about the undercity to me feels less like a separate entity and more a particular disadvantaged community within Piltover.
Anyway, I've gone off on like three crazy wild tangents based on your reply. Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed that post! And I agree, of all the Zaunites, Viktor is actually quite different from the others and that is really interesting to explore!
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uvobreakmylegs · 4 months ago
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As Fate Would Have it
red thread of fate soulmate! AU with Razor x reader
this fic now has a Part 2 written by @hypnoswrites! please read Man-Made Destiny once you've read this part!
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Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of death
Word Count: 12.2k words
He hadn't said anything to you.
After returning to your hotel room only to immediately be jumped by the man who had clearly been laying in wait for you, he had yet to utter a single word, instead staying quiet through the process of grabbing and restraining you. Even when you had tried to kick and scream when you realized that you were being attacked, he didn't explain anything or mutter out any curses when you were successful in hitting him a few times. Not even to mock you when it was clear that you were lacking the strength needed to do any sort of damage to him.
It was only for a short period of time that your limbs were free, and now you were laying on the hotel bed, your wrists bound behind your back, your ankles tied together and a washcloth from the bathroom having been forced into your mouth in order to keep you quiet.
Earlier you were crying and screaming into the material of the makeshift gag, the terror of the situation overtaking you. But when nothing further happened, you managed to calm down enough to keep quiet, and now you were waiting for what he intended to do from here. With how tightly he had bound you, there was no scenario where you got out of your constraints on your own. Which meant there were only two possibilities: a third party would find and untie you, or he would untie you himself.
The first possibility seemed incredibly unlikely.
That second possibility seemed like it would only happen if he viewed you in a positive light.
So you stayed quiet, hoping that your silence would be interpreted as submission.
Currently the man was across from where you lay on the bed, sitting forward in the chair that had been placed in front of the window. In the initial attack, all you had truly registered was how much taller and stronger he was in the way he had picked you up and threw you onto the bed without any effort. Now that things had calmed down and you were trying to be smart about the moves you made, you were able to take in the details you hadn't noticed before. Like his short, spiky purple hair and his prominent cheekbones.
The way the light from the nearby lamp hit him somehow made him feel even more intimidating than he already was, the shadows almost creating an ominous aura about him. As if you weren't scared enough of him already.
At least he wasn't touching you anymore. After he'd gagged you, his hands stayed on you while you continued to struggle. And even after your struggles had died down completely, they stayed there, occasionally to gliding up and down your body while he stared at you.
What exactly those dark eyes were seeing when he stared at you in that way that felt so intense, you couldn't begin to imagine.
It was a relatively recent development that he'd had enough of it and moved away from the bed, shifting the blinds of the window slightly to peek out before sitting down across from you, watching you with a pensive look on his face.
Being that you were now in a calmer state, you wished you could ask him why he was doing this. What he wanted and what he planned to do with you.
…. It wasn't completely true that you wanted to know the answer to the last one; you were too scared that he would tell you that he planned on ending your life. Or maybe he was planning on selling you. Both of those things happening was also a possibility.
How much time had passed since you had first entered your room was unclear – you kept your gaze on him, waiting to see if and when he would act.
When that time finally came and he did speak, it surprised you.
“This must be terrible for you.”
You blinked when you heard his voice for the first time, but continued to keep quiet, waiting for him to continue.
“I kept thinking of what I should say,” he told you, “what I could say to make this easier on you, so you could understand what's going on. And while I don't think that I'm terrible when it comes to words, I've never found myself more stumped than I am right now.”
He sighed as he added “if only you could see it, or if I didn't have to get back so quick, it wouldn't be this way. I wouldn't have needed to do this to you.”
'Do this'?
Tears began to fill your eyes again, and despite how you had told yourself to keep quiet, you tried to speak. Desperation drove you to beg for your life, something that could've been a horrible decision if he was easily angered, but his eyebrows raised slightly while he hummed.
“You want to say something?” he asked.
You nodded eagerly.
He considered you a moment before he got to his feet, returning to sit on the edge of the bed and placing one hand firmly on your shoulder.
“I'll take this out,” he began, motioning to the washcloth before adding “but make sure you don't scream. It'll only end badly for you.”
You nodded again, this time in a much more steady manner as you were desperate to show that you were calm and wanted to cooperate.
The man was satisfied with that, and he pulled the washcloth out of your mouth, freeing your tongue from the taste and texture of the heavy fabric that had grown wet from your saliva. You couldn't help but cough for a moment, relieved to get that out of your mouth. All the while he kept that hand on your shoulder while also being prepared to gag you again if you got too loud.
But you followed his instruction, and he seemed to relax some when moments passed and you didn't start screaming.
Then you spoke to him.
“Sir,” you began, “please don't kill me.”
At that, he smiled.
“Ah, that was what you were worried about, was it?”
He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly as he said “don't worry. You aren't going to die.”
“R-really?”
“Really.”
He pulled you up into a sitting position and moved your legs so they were placed over his lap. With how your wrists and ankles were still bound, it felt awkward, but you didn't dare make any move to try and free yourself. Not right now.
“It would be terrible for me if you died,” he said, “so believe me when I say that's the last thing I could ever want.”
You didn't understand how exactly that could be bad for him, but you nodded as if you did.
“Um, so,” you began, “can I ask what exactly it is that you do want?”
“For you to come with me.”
“Come with you? Wh-where?”
“An island.”
“… An island?”
He saw the way your eyebrows furrowed and patted you on the cheek as he said “I feel all of this is something that will make more sense if you see it rather than have me explain it to you. So while it might be confusing for now, I promise it will become clear in time.”
“For now,” he continued, “I need your full cooperation.”
“….. So you can take me to an island?”
“Yes.”
You wanted to ask what happened after that, but he spoke again before you were able to.
“You can't use nen, so we'll need to go the long way to get there,” he said, “we'll be leaving tomorrow.”
What the fuck is nen?
That thought flashed through your head before you focused on the second part of his sentence: leaving tomorrow?
“I-I'm supposed to head back home tomorrow,” you told him, “people will notice when I don't come back.”
“Then we'll have to get going early.”
He smiled as he said that, speaking as though this was a last-minute trip that you were a willing participant in and brushing off what you said completely. Like the fact that there were people who would notice once you were gone wasn't a concern to him. He didn't care that he was taking you away from them. He didn't care that you didn't want to go with him.
And there was nothing you could do about that. After all, the first thing this man had done was prove to you that you couldn't fight him off.
As much as you wanted to scream and yell at him to let you go or cry out for help in the hopes your neighbors would hear you and call for help on your behalf, at best all that would do was get that washcloth stuffed inside your mouth again, and that was at best. If you wanted any chance of getting away from this man, you needed to get him to trust you enough so his guard relaxed.
It was the only way.
“With that said, we should get some sleep,” he told you, patting you on the cheek again while he added “we have a long drive ahead of us, and once we start, I want to make as few stops as possible.”
He gently pushed you back onto the mattress before moving your legs off of his lap and standing back up.
You were compelled to speak again when he began to walk away.
“Can I ask one last question?”
He paused, turning to look at you as he said “of course.”
“Who….. Who are you?”
He smiled at you and answered with his name.
“Razor.”
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There was little sleep to be had that night. While the bed in the hotel room was incredibly soft and comfortable, it was hard to sleep when you had a kidnapper nearly twice your size laying next to you. The feeling was made worse during the times of the night when he put a hand on you again, running up and down your side with experimental touches. He knew you were awake during those times as well, as more often than not you weren't able to keep in the scared noises that came from your mouth whenever his hand brushed near your neck or went lower than your stomach, still fearful of his intentions. He didn't reprimand you, likely because you were doing your best to be quiet. But he didn't stop either, not seeming to care at all how much this was distressing you. To top it off, your arms remained bound, forcing you to try and rest in an uncomfortable position that guaranteed you would lose sleep no matter how soft the mattress was.
Dawn had barely cracked when Razor got up, shaking you awake when it felt like you had just barely gotten to sleep. Your tiredness was definitely showing even with how hard you tried to be alert, because he chuckled at you.
“Don't worry,” he told you, “you can sleep in the car if you need to.”
However, the moment you were placed in the passenger's seat, you were wide awake again. And as Razor drove you away from your hotel and down the highway in the opposite direction of the airport, despair settled in the pit of your stomach. You were being kidnapped, and you were doing nothing to stop it because there simply wasn't anything you could do.
So you sat there silently with your hands bound again as he took you, and the only saving grace of the situation was the fact that he'd tied them in front so you were a bit more comfortable this time.
Razor stayed silent as well while he kept his focus on the road.
An entire day passed with barely anything being said. You didn't say anything unless he spoke up first, and when you did speak, it was just to let out a “yes” or an “okay” to whatever he told you to do. Like when he tossed you a protein bar and told you to eat, or when he told you to keep your hands on your lap so no one passing by might catch sight of your bound wrists.
Cooperate fully. Make him think you were too scared to go against him. Wait for him to let his guard down.
The worst moment was when he stopped the car to fill up the gas tank, and he allowed your wrists to be free once more as he let you out to use the nearby restroom. Before letting you go, he whispered a warning as he told you not to get any stupid ideas. You didn't need any clarification: there was only one person at the station that you could see, standing away from the pumps so they could smoke their cigarette in peace. With only them seeming to be present, trying to get help here was a stupid idea, and one you would only do if you had no care for the innocent bystander who would undoubtedly suffer because of it.
It was when you were leaving the bathroom and heading back to the car that you felt heavy. Razor's eyes were fixed on you when you stepped out, and the sight had you frozen for a moment.
You didn't want to go to him. Every instinct in you was telling you to run, run as fast as you can and don't look back until you find somewhere safe.
But he was expecting that.
Despite the laid back body language he displayed, a gut feeling told you that he'd be on you the instant you tried getting away from him. That same gut feeling told you that it was better not to anger him. Even if he said that he didn't want you dead, how the hell could you trust a man who had kidnapped you?
You walked back to the car, albeit slowly. If your pace was enough to annoy him, he chose not to comment on it, though the instant you were both back in the car he restrained your wrists again.
Razor drove well into the night, not stopping to rest even when you felt it was too hard to keep your eyes open. You fell asleep like that, and when you woke up early the next morning with an ache in your neck, he was still driving, and you wondered if he had slept at all that night.
After another breakfast of an energy bar and bottled water, you got up the courage to ask him a question.
“How far will we be driving?” you asked.
“Until we reach the coast.”
“Ah.”
That would take a while, then. You weren't that close to any oceans. So it would be a long time spent being around him in the small space of the car.
At least he couldn't do anything to you while he was focused on the road, right?
Turning your attention to the window, you saw that the highway you were on was now slowly filling up with traffic. It was still early morning, thus the morning traffic was merging on the road. Much to Razor's displeasure, as you heard him make an annoyed grunt when he was forced to slow down the speed of the car.
It was disheartening to know that the trip would last that much longer.
You expected that today would be a repeat of the previous: he would say very little aside from ordering you now and then, and you would keep quiet and do as he said. The less you needed to speak with this man, the better.
But then he spoke up.
“You seem tired; are you sure you don't want to sleep more?” he asked.
It took you a few moments to reply, and during that time he glanced over to you. That was what spurred you to respond.
“I don't think I can,” you answered.
“If the front seat is too uncomfortable for you, I can pull over and you can move to the back.”
“I'm okay.”
“… I see.”
You kept your eyes averted from him, not sure what all of this was about but not wanting to poke the bear to find out. Why was he pretending to look out for your well-being? God, all you wanted was to be away from him.
But now with the traffic forcing him to drive far beneath the speed limit and the already long road you had ahead of you, getting away from him wouldn't come any time soon. And now it seemed that your previous question had encouraged him to talk to you, as Razor broke the silence once again.
“You're free to talk, if you'd like.”
“…. I'm okay.”
You didn't say anything after that, and once a few moments had passed, you sensed his gaze on you again when he looked over to you.
“You're getting bored of doing nothing but sitting, aren't you? Why don't you tell me about yourself?” he asked.
The fuck did that mean?
You shook your head, and you felt his confusion grow as he continued to watch you.
“You seemed more eager to speak the other night,” he commented.
Probably because I was panicked from getting jumped in my hotel room, you thought to yourself. Now you didn't want to say anything, or even know anything about what would happen to you. The previous day you had spent in silent dread only built up your paranoia and your fear and you didn't want to hear some story from him that was undoubtedly untrue all to keep you calm for the journey.
You didn't need to know the details of what would happen, the scenarios in your mind that slowly began running wild being all that you needed to guess as to what your fate would be at the end of all this. You were definitely going to die; the fact that he didn't care about you seeing his face seemed like proof of that.
So why give him the satisfaction of feeding you false hope that things wouldn't be as bad as you thought they would be?
Although…..
You had to admit that the island story felt like a weird lie to feed you. Surely he could've come up with something better, some reason that wasn't quite so mysterious. Then again, you couldn't think of any good lie to feed to someone who was being kidnapped.
But again, why in the world would he say that?
The traffic around you was starting to get better when you voiced that thought.
“Why do I need to go to the island?” you asked.
“Because I need you,” he answered.
“For what?”
He didn't answer, and you glanced back over to find that Razor's smile had fallen as he kept his gaze on the road. It didn't seem like he intended on answering you. If that was the case, then you should leave it be. No sense in angering him unnecessarily. He was the one in control, not you.
But he eventually surprised you when he chose to speak again.
“Unfortunately,” he began, “that's one thing I can only explain once we get there.”
“Oh.”
That again.
“Is there a reason why you can't explain now?” you asked.
“Because it may be a bit too difficult to believe simply hearing it.”
“So leaving me without answers for however long you lug me around is the better option?”
Your regretted saying that as soon as the words left your lips. It had been too forceful, too angry and not in line at all with the role of captive you were meant to play. Him not doing much to you had you growing too comfortable, too bold, and Razor obviously noticed it too as he looked over to you with one of his eyebrows raised.
One look from him was all it took for every fear to return, and you went back to cowering in your seat, mumbling a soft “sorry.”
He hummed but said nothing further.
An uncomfortable silence was now in the air, interrupted only by the way Razor tapped his finger against the steering wheel.
You noticed something then: a piece of teal colored string that was wrapped around his pinky. One with some sort of design printed all over it, though it was too small and too far away from you to make out any details.
Your eyebrows furrowed. With the way he'd been touching you that first night, shouldn't you have noticed that before? Then again, how could anyone be paying attention to such fine details after what you'd been going through in that moment?
Ultimately, you took your attention off of that; whatever that was, it couldn't have mattered.
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“Have you ever seen my face before today?” he asked.
It was late in the afternoon when he asked that, the third day since he had kidnapped you playing out without much talk aside from the orders he would give you whenever he stopped to refill the car's tank. Despite the talk you had the previous day, he didn't push further to make you speak to him. Maybe the last conversation felt just as strange for him as it had for you.
Evidently he was moving past that now as this new question hung in the air.
Your eyebrows furrowed, but instead of asking him why he was asking, you looked at him and tried to recall if there was any spot in your memory where you had seen his face before all of this. There was a reason he had asked, right? He wouldn't just ask such a thing randomly, right?
Maybe he'd been stalking you for a long time.
As hard as you tried, however, you came up blank in terms of any previous memories that involved your kidnapper, and after a few moments you slowly shook your head “no” in response.
For some reason, Razor actually seemed relieved at that, smiling as he said “that's good.”
“…. Why is that good?” you asked against your better judgment.
With that smile still on his face, Razor shook his head as he replied “I'd rather not go into it. I don't want your opinion of me to go any lower.”
…. What?
“Why would my opinion of you matter?” you asked.
Now Razor seemed confused, glancing over to you while asking “why wouldn't it matter?”
Why wouldn't it matter?
Was he fucking serious?
“Because I've been kidnapped?” you responded, “because I have no say in any of this? Because you were waiting in my hotel room for me, and then you tied me up on the bed? Because it's pretty amazing that I haven't died yet, and there's still a good chance that everything you've been saying to me is a lie so you can keep me calm before you gut me like a pig and dump me in a ditch somewhere.”
He wasn't smiling anymore, his expression now turned serious. You should've been worried about how it didn't seem like he was paying attention to the road.
You should also stop talking. The way you were going right now, you were liable to say something bad that would upset him.
But did it matter if you upset him if you really believed he was going to kill you?
“After you did all of that, why the fuck does my opinion of you matter?” you asked, “why do you care about how your kidnapping victim feels? If you weren't such an awful person, you wouldn't have kidnapped me in the first place. How the fuck can you sit there and be worried about if I like you or not?”
Razor pulled the car over to the side of the road.
Fuck
You averted your eyes as you started to shake.
He'll do it here. Shoot or strangle you and then dump you in the back. Take whatever it was he wanted from you and then throw you away like garbage. That would be the way your life would end, and you were powerless to stop it.
There was no chance of survival, and there was nothing you could do but prepare yourself for the inevitable.
He's gonna kill me he's gonna kill me he's gonna kill me
Razor placed his hand on top of yours.
Your heart leapt into your throat and you jerked your body away. The furthest you could go was the door, slamming your hands on the window as you ended up against it, pressing yourself against it as far as you could while tears began to fall. This was it. You shut your eyes, waiting for something bad to happen. Either metal being placed against your flesh or his hands wrapping around your neck. Maybe even a plastic bag placed over your head.
Why did he need to pick you?
Why couldn't he have left you alone?
You flinched again when you felt his hand on your shoulder. As this time there was nowhere else for you to go, his hand stayed.
Nothing more than that.
It took you a while to realize that he wasn't doing anything else. With however many minutes had passed with you hyperventilating and crying, he hadn't moved forward with any action other than the hand that he had placed on your shoulder.
After realizing that you were still alive when everything was telling you that you should be dead by now, you came to another realization: the way his hand was placed on your shoulder was almost as if he had done it as a way to comfort you.
His hand was warm where he touched you. Were it not for the horrible situation, it just might have made you feel a bit better.
By that point your cries had quieted down, and he took that as an opportunity to softly speak your name.
You glanced over at him through blurry vision.
He was frowning and his eyebrows were furrowed, but he didn't seem angry.
Razor actually looked sad.
“Are you really that scared of me?” he asked.
Tears continued to roll down your cheeks as you nodded, and that only seemed to discourage him even more.
“Even after I told you that I'm not going to hurt you?”
“How can you expect me to trust anything you say?” was your response.
Razor stared at you, his hand still on you. His lips began to part as if to speak, but then he turned his head away from you, looking out through the windshield and at the highway before him.
“Can't argue with that,” you heard him mumble.
Then he removed his hand and returned his attention to driving the car, pulling back out onto the road and continuing on.
Neither of you said anything for the rest of the drive.
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It was late when Razor decided to stop for a bit, pulling off of the highway and renting a room from a small and rather seedy-looking motel. He'd left you in the car while he went to get a room, and while he still warned you not to try anything, his tone wasn't quite as harsh as it had been those times earlier. It was as though he was trying to be more gentle with you.
You didn't respond except to nod silently.
Now it felt like you were repeating the situation from that first night: the both of you on the bed with you feeling incredibly unsafe while trying and failing to get any sleep. The biggest difference this time was that the mattress of the motel was uncomfortable as shit, and you shifted every few minutes as you tried to find a spot that felt nicer.
At least you weren't sleeping in the car again, you told yourself.
He was still awake. Although you tried not to pay attention to him, it was hard to keep your eyes averted whenever you turned to face his direction. More than once the two of you made eye contact, and immediately after you would turn away. You would have stayed facing away from him if only the goddamn mattress wasn't so awful. And shouldn't he be asleep by now?
The fact that Razor was still awake and alert after three days of what appeared to be constant driving wasn't normal; who the hell could go that long without rest? How had the two of you not yet died in a car crash?
Maybe kidnappers were built different, you dryly thought to yourself.
“…. Do you want to watch anything?”
Razor's voice interrupted that thought train, and you noted that his tone was soft again when he asked, but you shook your head as you stared straight ahead at the wall next to you.
He hummed, and it sounded like he was disappointed.
But for some reason that wasn't the end of it.
“What can I do to make you trust me?”
….. He had some nerve to ask that, after everything. Was he aware of that? Probably. Despite that odd thing regarding your opinion of him, he was pretty self-aware on how wrong all of this was. You'd be justified in ignoring him, though. Razor would probably recognize and understand that, as well.
…..
Even if you were justified, what good would that do you?
After a moment, you remained where you were but pulled your arms upward, holding your bound wrists in the air for him to see.
A few seconds passed and nothing happened.
You figured that his lack of action meant “no”, and with a sigh, you began to pull them back down.
Razor grabbed them.
For a second, all you felt was panic at his sudden touch. You were reminded of that first night and how powerless you were.
It only lasted a moment, however, as Razor grabbed at the zip-tie and, with a slight tug, snapped the plastic off of you. Within a moment, your wrists were free.
… Were they supposed to break that easily?
“Is that better?” Razor asked.
“…. Yeah.”
He pulled away, his eyes remaining on you after. And now that he had done as you wanted, there was a certain level of expectation in the air, such as you would look at him and have a conversation. A proper one.
Continuing to ignore him now seemed like it would be a bad idea.
So you sat up, turning around on the bed so you were facing him. He seemed pleased by that, so that wasn't bad.
But fuck he was intimidating.
Surely after the past few days your fear of just looking at and speaking to him should have gone down somewhat, but no. Looking at him head on while he had his full attention on you had your palms beginning to sweat.
You grabbed the pillow you'd been resting on and wrapped your arms around it as you held it close. Maybe that was pathetic but it made you feel better.
“Ready to talk?” Razor asked.
“Depends on what you have to say,” you answered, “if you're going to tell me that you'll be knocking out my teeth before you feed me to pigs then I'd rather you not say anything.”
He let out an exasperated sigh.
“I told you that you're not going to die.”
The firmness was back in his tone, and you sensed that he was getting to the point of being aggravated.
You looked away as you held the pillow tighter.
“Okay,” you breathed out, “I'll believe you. But then….”
You inhaled before you spoke.
“I want to know why you're taking me. And I don't want an excuse about needing to wait until we get to wherever. I want answers now.”
“I've been pretty cooperative, so I at least deserve that much,” you added.
You glanced over and then away again, still nervous about his potential reaction. While he didn't seem to have anger issues, he more than likely had limits when he was pushed too far. If he wasn't going to kill you, he could keep you alive to experience worse.
A second quick glance revealed that he was staring at that string around his finger.
Then he made eye contact again as he asked “do you think you could listen to what I have to say with an open mind?”
“Uh, sure?”
Razor didn't seem as pleased about the uncertainty that made it's way into your voice, but after a moment's hesitation, he seemed to resolve himself as he spoke again.
“Do you believe in soulmates?”
You blinked.
“….. What do you mean?” you asked.
“That there are people in this world who are connected and are meant to be together?” he explained.
“Connected how?”
“By a force that's invisible to most,” said Razor, “like a red thread that you can only see if you have the ability to look.”
What
You blinked again, not sure of what to say.
“I… I guess I've never thought about it,” you began, “if I'm being honest, I'm really not sure.”
“I see.”
Again, there was disappointment in his tone.
Despite being worried to question him, you hesitantly asked “is…. Is there a reason why you asked?”
You had a bad idea as to why he'd mention such a thing. But you held onto hope that this tangent about soulmates was just his way of trying to make a joke so you felt better. Or maybe he was bringing up something this random just to fuck with you. Even that wouldn't be too bad.
He answered your question with a question of his own.
“What would you do if I said we were soulmates?” he asked.
“….”
…. Oh god.
This entire time you'd been convinced that Razor was going to kill you, no matter how much he said otherwise. And if not that, maybe that he would sell you off to someone. Now you were learning that all of this was happening because he was crazy. He'd seen you and was pushing some sort of fantasy onto you while justifying it with the notion of 'soulmates'. That had been all he needed to feel no guilt over tying you up and kidnapping you – because in his mind, what he was doing was right.
Of all the combinations he needed to be, why did he need to be both mentally unstable and unreasonably strong?
That was the other important thing: regardless of his sanity, he still posed an incredibly dangerous threat physically. As he continued to watch you while he waited for you to say something, you were aware that it would be a bad idea to flat-out say 'no'. Better to play along at least somewhat.
“…. I don't know,” you eventually told him.
Razor let out a soft sigh as he said “you think I'm insane, don't you?”
“N-no. Nothing like that,” you replied.
He hummed, and the way he hummed sounded as though he didn't believe you. Then he reached over and began to caress your cheek, making you cringe internally. While you wished you could get his hand off of you, you told yourself to deal with it for now.
“I wish I could show you proof – I really do,” Razor said, “but I'll get into some serious trouble if I use nen while I'm out here.”
That word…. He'd mentioned it before, though you still had no idea what it meant.
“So it needs to wait for the island?” you asked.
“Exactly.”
“…. Okay.”
Better to not make a fuss, you told yourself. Act like you're potentially open to the delusions he's spewing out. Delusional people prefer it when others agree with them, right?
Still, to find out that he had taken you because of such a reason….
The worst case scenario now was that you wouldn't get away and you'd be stuck playing out Razor's romance fantasy with him. At least you wouldn't be dead, right?
…..
It might be a good idea to get off of the soulmate subject, at least for now. And since he was mostly willing to be open and honest with you, now might not be a bad time to question something else he had said.
“Can I ask something else?”
The fact that you were changing subjects was obvious, but he seemed to accept it as he pulled his hand away as he answered “go ahead.”
“Why did you ask if I had seen you before?”
For some reason, that question was the one that had him frowning, and he tore his gaze away from you as he sighed.
“I don't know that you want to hear that answer,” he told you.
“Why?”
“It's not pleasant.”
“So?”
“… I'd rather we wait a while before we get to that discussion,” Razor said.
“I don't want to do that,” you replied.
He grimaced at your response, but oddly enough he didn't seem to be getting upset as he had been when you made that comment about him killing you. Maybe that was why you were spurred to push for him to speak.
“You said you want me to trust you, right? Why not answer?”
“Because you won't be happy with what I tell you.”
“Can it really be worse than what you've done to me so far?” you asked.
“If you can imagine the sort of crimes that get someone sent to death row, then yes.”
“…. Oh.”
Razor turned his head towards you, and you got a certain sense of “I told you so” when he looked over.
What he did couldn't have been any small crime – given how easy it had been to imagine him killing you, murder was the first thing you thought of. But even then, convicted killers didn't always get sentenced to death. There was that guy from Zaban who had literally torn his victims to pieces and while he had gotten over 900 years in prison, the fact that he hadn't been put to death was mind boggling to many.
So just what had Razor done to get himself on death row?
And why was literally everything about this only managing to become worse and worse?
“Why were you sent to death row?” you whispered after a few moments.
It wasn't much of a surprise when he took a bit to answer, frowning again as he stared off at the space in front of him. He didn't want you to know anything about this for some reason.
But eventually, he answered.
“I killed some people,” he said.
“How many?”
“You don't need to know.”
“Why did you kill them?”
“Because I could.”
“That's it?”
“That's it.”
That's horrible, you wanted to say. But you refrained. Not only because it would be pointing out the obvious, but it probably wouldn't do any good saying that to a man who admitted to something as awful as murder.
Because I could
The words echoed in your head, and you couldn't help but note how there had been a distinct lack of remorse in his tone. Almost as if he didn't care about the lives he had snuffed out for no reason.
A weight settled in your chest at that thought. Why it did remained unclear, but you found yourself wanting to make this better somehow.
“Do you feel bad about it?” you asked.
“What?”
His confusion was evident.
“Do you feel bad for killing those people?” you clarified, “if you could do it all over again, would you leave them alone?”
Why you now wanted so badly for him to agree with what you said was also unclear. Razor was a kidnapper and an admitted murderer – one who was bad enough that he earned himself a spot on death row. Why did it matter to you whether he was sorry for what he'd done?
But regardless, it seemed that was what your heart wanted.
Razor hadn't answered you, and in fact, he was looking at you as though you had grown three heads.
… That wasn't a good sign.
After a few moments where it seemed he was trying to pick his words carefully, he spoke up.
“I don't see much value in thinking about things I could've done differently in the past,” Razor answered.
Then he reached over to you.
While this time you didn't flinch or jerk away, you stiffened immediately, the pillow you held becoming squished between against you as you anticipated him putting his hands on you again.
Surprisingly, Razor paused when he saw your reaction, seeming thoughtful as he watched the way you sat, virtually petrified on the bed with a terrified look on your face.
Could he really blame you? He just told you a lot that warranted being worried about him. Even moreso than before.
Evidently he didn't, as he pulled his hand back and smiling at you again as he said “the important thing is what's happening now, and what our lives will be like from this point onward.”
“So let's not focus anymore on that,” he added.
Stop talking about it, was what he meant.
“Okay,” you whispered, nodding in agreement.
Razor seemed pleased with that.
Not long after he told you to rest up, and within a few minutes the lights were off. Once more you needed to try and get some sleep while you lay next to your kidnapper, and the only saving grace was the fact that he was keeping his hands off of you this time. But while you tried to get some meager amount of sleep, you weren't able to focus much on his semblance of respecting your personal space. Instead, there was only one thought going through your head in that moment:
He wasn't sorry
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Your wrists weren't tied up when you left the motel the next morning.
That was nice.
And while Razor wouldn't let you out of the car, he did stop at a restaurant to get you a to-go order of pancakes when you asked him to. Eating them in the moving car was awkward but you appreciated that he humored your request.
That was also nice, even if it had the potential of being your last meal before Razor took you to that island.
The knowledge soured the meal somewhat, but as much as you hated to admit it, you weren't so sure now that you would be escaping him. Razor hadn't given you any opportunity to take advantage of, and even with him giving you a bit more freedom of movement, he made a point to lock you inside the car during the time he was gone.
That made sense. After everything, you couldn't see him being foolish enough to leave you alone without having taken some step to secure you beforehand. It was actually pretty surprising that he was giving you the freedom he was after what he'd told you in that motel room.
Though maybe it wasn't too surprising when you considered the fact that he wanted you to like him. While the soulmate thing was complete bullshit, that was what Razor believed. So it made sense that he would want you to feel good about him since he planned on keeping you with him from now on.
That last part had never been said, but you got the sense that would be what happened if Razor got his way.
The rest of your life being spent playing into this man's delusions….
You would have shuddered at the thought if not for your fear that Razor would notice it.
“We'll be driving through the rest of the night,” he told you some time later, “and by tomorrow morning we'll have made it to our boat. From there it won't be too long of a journey to the island.”
You nodded along, though hearing what he said caused a pit to form in your stomach.
Once you were on that boat, the chances of escape were next to zero. It would be better to throw away any thoughts of escape if you were to reach that point.
To try and get away while on the water would be suicide.
He asked you questions every now and then, and though it wasn't as strong as it had been the previous night, you felt that pressure like you needed to answer him in exchange for the kindnesses he had shown you.
So you did what he wanted, and every time you glanced to him after, you saw a pleased look on his face.
You should've felt bad for him. Razor was the one who clearly had a lot of issues – things that, if he was a bit more mentally well, he probably wouldn't have done. Maybe. But then again, you were the one being dragged along with him against your will, so your sympathy could only go so far.
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The sun was setting when Razor pulled over to another gas station to refill the tank. This was probably the last stop like this that you'd be making, if what Razor said earlier was correct.
The hand drier in the bathroom was still roaring when you left, only to be muted once the door shut behind you. As you had done a lot over the past few days, you immediately headed back towards the car as you knew your kidnapper wanted you to.
Only this time he wasn't watching you like a hawk.
Razor was by the car as the tank continued to fill, leaning against it as he stared out into the distance. Your gaze followed his, and you found that he seemed to be staring at a factory that sat in the distance, if the long, rectangular building accompanied by several smokestacks were any indication. Or perhaps he was looking beyond that, at the city that which was several miles away but still visible from where you stood. Or maybe it was just the sunset. It was at the time of day where the sky was at its prettiest.
Instead of entering the car once you returned, you went to his side and stood next to him, copying the way he leaned on it. He glanced at you, but said nothing about what you were doing. He only returned his gaze to the sight in front of him.
And then an odd expression morphed onto his face.
One that was almost wistful.
“Are you okay?” you asked cautiously.
Razor seemed surprised, looking back at you as he asked “why?”
“You look a little sad, I guess.”
“Do I?”
He looked back in the direction of the factory and the city that sat far off in the distance, and that wistful expression returned. As much as you wanted to ask him what he was thinking about, that question felt like it might be too intrusive and could potentially cause a bad reaction from him, particularly if it involved his past. He really didn't want you to know much in regard to that.
He let out a sigh.
“I guess I am, a little bit,” Razor said, “this is the last time I get to be out and about in the world like this. Once we get back to the island, I know I'll never leave again.”
“Never?” you repeated.
“Never,” he said, “the purpose of leaving the island every so often was to find you, and now that I have, there's no reason for me to come out here like this.”
He leaned his head back, now looking at the darkening sky above him as he added “I knew it was coming, but I didn't think it would bother me, knowing that this is the last time I can walk around like I'm free.”
“… Are you not?”
“Not really.”
“Why?”
“Death row convict.”
“Ah. Right.”
You went over the new information in your head.
“So you can't leave the island once you go back?” you asked, “is it a prison?”
He let out a short laugh.
“It's a prison for some of us, but even then it's nicer than any traditional prison you'll find,” he said.
“Us? There are others like you?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “but don't worry, you won't need to interact with them.”
You nodded, though your eyebrows furrowed as you thought on it a bit more.
“Will I be able to leave at all?” you asked.
“No.”
You sighed.
“Figures.”
Kicking at a bit of rubble by your foot, you said “so, the plan from here is to go to an island where we'll never leave, and then just….. Hang out there forever?”
“There's a bit more to it than that.”
“Hm.”
When Razor reached for you that time, you didn't flinch or shy away. And when his hand settled on your shoulder, you didn't give much reaction other than to look at him.
“It won't be that bad. The places you'll be able to go to are the nice ones,” he said.
“…. It's still really depressing that I can't ever leave once I get there.”
Razor smiled at you, and this time the sadness he felt was even more obvious.
“I know.”
Then he stood up straight, announcing “we should get going.”
You nodded, and you wordlessly walked around the car to get to the front passenger's seat.
When you were both in the car and after you'd buckled up, something else strange happened.
Razor reached out and pulled you towards him, your head resting on his chest while he kept you in something that resembled a hug.
“I do regret that you've gotten dragged into this,” he whispered against your hair, “I really mean that. While I can't do anything to stop it, I'll do my best to make it easier for you. I promise.”
In that moment, you had no insights as to what Razor was truly thinking or feeling, no clue that everything he'd just said was a genuine promise from him that he intended to keep. So you had no idea how his heart skipped a beat when he felt your hands reach up and hold onto his jacket. You had no idea of the relief that filled him when you moved in closer and reciprocated his hug.
“I trust you, Razor.”
As those words were whispered from your lips, you had no idea that, in that moment, Razor truly believed that he had your acceptance.
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There was no one else on the docks when you got there in the morning, arriving early enough that the morning mist was still present as Razor navigated the car through various warehouses and massive walls of shipping containers. Was it unusual for such a place to be completely empty at this time of day? You weren't sure; you didn't know enough about this kind of place to be able to tell what was normal or not.
All the sight did was guarantee that no one other than Razor would witness the last moments you had on the mainland.
Eventually the car came to a stop not far from the edge. Just as he had said, there was a boat sitting in the water. It wasn't anything new as it looked quite battered, but presumably it would make the journey that Razor wanted it to.
Though it would be morbidly funny if, after all of his efforts, it were to sink in the middle of the trip.
“Let's go,” Razor told you.
He stepped out of the car, and after a few moments, you copied the action.
The smell of the ocean air hit you after you got out. You stood there, your hand gripping at the top of the door to keep yourself steady as you looked out at the water before you, and then the boat.
One last leg of the journey, and then you'd be stuck with Razor for good.
…..
No one would ever find you, probably. Your disappearance had more than likely been reported by now, but all efforts to find you would be focused on that hotel you'd been staying at and the surrounding area; who would ever think to look for you on the water? Even if someone remembered seeing your face and informed the authorities, how would they reach anything other than a dead end once they got to the shoreline? You didn't have the time to leave some sign of you behind, nor could you with Razor undoubtedly watching you as close as he had been. You couldn't do anything.
Once you stepped on that boat, you weren't getting away from him. To try and do so would be suicide, you reminded yourself.
Your grip on the door became harder and breathing became more difficult the longer you stared at the boat.
I don't want to go I don't want to go I don't want to go
And again you asked why he needed to pick you.
Razor's voice saying your name forced you away from your thoughts, and you turned your head to see that he had your luggage slung over his shoulder and a concerned look on his face as he watched you. Your internal freak out wasn't as internal as you thought it was, then.
Swallowing a few times, you eventually asked “can I just….. Can I have a minute?”
“…. Alright.”
Then, to your utter surprise, Razor turned and began walking towards the boat.
Leaving you behind.
……
Was this some kind of test? Or maybe…. Did he think that since you were now at this point, he could relax a bit in watching you? Was he that confident you weren't going anywhere?
Razor continued making his way to the boat without a single glance back at you.
Your heart began to beat hard against your chest as you realized: you could run.
If you waited until he reached the boat and then made a break for it, you might just have a decent head start. If not to escape the area completely, then to find someplace to hide. Maybe find a phone and call for help. If it was a landline phone, they should be able to figure out your location without you needing to try and figure out where you were exactly.
If he caught you, it'd be bad for you, sure. But….
As he went further and further away, you were acutely aware that this was the first chance you had gotten to make an escape. The only chance you had. Were you really going to waste it by being too afraid of him?
….. No.
For once, you were going to take control of the situation.
And you were leaving.
You kept watch as Razor stepped off the dock and onto the boat, your things still in hand as he made his way to the cabin. Your hand was still gripping the door, your knuckles becoming pale from how hard you held onto it.
When he went inside. That was when you would run.
Once he stepped through the low doorway of the cabin, you did just that.
You pushed off from the door and you ran.
All you heard was your shoes on the dock and your own heartbeat in your ears as you propelled yourself forward. That felt a bit odd; you would have expected to hear him call out in anger on seeing you running. But at you reached the end and turned a corner past a line of containers, you didn't hear anything from him. There was no indication he even noticed that you had fled.
That was even better. While he would notice soon enough, every second you got with him being unaware would help in aiding your escape. You could do this. With every step forward you took with no sign of Razor coming after you, your confidence grew.
And then, after exiting the row of containers and reaching a warehouse, you saw a godsend:
A man.
He stood at the end of the structure, standing with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on you once you rounded the corner. With black hair sticking out of a odd blue cap and the rest of his blue and white clothing looking slightly worn, he looked raised an eyebrow as he took in your disheveled state.
You, on the other hand, felt relief upon seeing him. This was someone who could help. If you could explain what was happening, he could get you away and call the police. Then all of your problems would be over.
You could go home.
So you ran towards him, calling out “sir! Please, help me!”
He said nothing, but when you stumbled as you reached him, he took his hands out of his pockets so as to steady you, keeping his hands on your arms while you grabbed at the long blue scarf that hung from his neck.
“Please,” you said again, gulping as you did your best to maintain your composure, “I've been kidnapped. We need to get out of here and call the police.”
“Kidnapped? Who would kidnap you?” the man asked.
“He-he said that he's a death row convict,” you began, “he was waiting for me in my hotel room, and he tied me up and took me with him. Now he's trying to take me to some island and he says I can't ever come back.”
When the man didn't immediately respond, you got a bit more frantic as you cried “I swear, I'm not making this up! I've really been kidnapped, and I need the police before he tries to get me again! All of this is true!”
The logical part of your brain knew that getting hysterical wouldn't help you. But you weren't able to be completely logical in that moment. Now that you were so close to escape, you couldn't control yourself. You needed him to listen to what you were saying.
Finally, the man nodded.
“I believe you,” he said.
Relief rushed through you as you smiled, and you held onto his scarf tighter, unwilling to let go of this lifeline.
You spoke to the man again, asking if he had a phone, or better yet, if he had a car, and if he knew how far away the nearest police station was. He didn't really answer, though perhaps he couldn't with the way you were rambling in that moment. But you noticed when he looked past you and down the path that you'd just come from.
Your eyes followed his gaze and just like that your words died in your throat as your grip on the man's scarf became tighter, this time from fear.
Razor was there. Staring at you.
And for the first time, you saw true anger in him. Those dark eyes glared at you across the distance as he saw you in this unknown man's arms.
He's going to kill me
You looked back to the man, ready to beg for him to help again, for him to get you out of here before Razor murdered both you.
The man spoke before you could.
“Is this them, Razor?” he asked.
…. Huh?
He knew Razor's name?
How? You hadn't told this man what your kidnapper's name was. You were certain that you hadn't.
“Yeah,” your kidnapper answered.
Razor was talking to him? Not flying into a murderous rage and killing you both? The nonchalance of his reply was also a shock.
“Huh. I'm a little surprised,” the man said as he looked back to you.
“Surprised at what?” Razor asked. He started to walk forward at a moderate pace, taking his time while he kept his eyes fixed on you.
“That they got away from you,” the man answered.
You tried pulling away from him then. But the grip he had on your arms was ironclad, and no amount of wriggling would free you.
This man was far, far stronger than he looked.
“That was an error in judgment on my part,” Razor answered, coming to a stop as he had now reached the two of you by the warehouse.
“I'm sorry to have made you step in, Ging,” Razor added.
Ging?
The man who held you laughed.
“I don't mind,” Ging answered, “saves you the hassle of catching them again, right?”
“Right…..”
Razor's voice trailed off as he stared at you again, and with him being so much closer this time, you felt your entire body shudder while your heart beat pounded in your chest again, now being caused by pure, unadulterated fear.
He was so, so mad.
Ging then smiled at your kidnapper.
“Well, aside from this little mishap, everything else work out well?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Razor answered. His attention finally went back to Ging, and you felt like you could breathe again.
“Glad to hear it.”
Ging was saying something else to him but you couldn't completely hear it. You still tried to slip your way out of Ging's fingers, but it was no use; he wasn't letting go unless he wanted to. Tears were welling up as you continued the futile effort. And somehow, the fact that he wasn't even acknowledging your attempt to get away only made it worse.
Why? Why did Ging need to be here to catch you? Why did you need to have such awful luck?
What was going to happen to you now?
You didn't want to find out, and so despite knowing that there was no hope of getting away now, you still tried.
If there was such a thing as divine intervention, you wanted it right now.
“Ah, Right. Before you go, I need to see that you haven't used your nen,” said Ging.
Instead of answering, Razor held up his hand, showing the teal bit of string that was still wrapped around his pinky.
“Just needed to check,” Ging told him, “we'd both be in trouble if that was broken.”
“I know.”
“Well, now that we've gotten that out of the way-”
Finally removing his hand from where he'd been gripping you, Ging unexpectedly turned you around and pushed you, causing you to stumble forward.
Right into Razor.
He wrapped his arms around you instantly, and his hold on you was immediate and unforgiving, gripping you to the point that it hurt. Like with Ging, you wanted to struggle. You wanted to try and do everything in your power to break free of him.
But unlike with Ging, there was an air around Razor now that felt dangerous.
No, worse than that.
It truly felt like he was ready to kill someone.
And with that aura that surrounded you to the point that you felt like it might actually smother you to death, you couldn't bring yourself to fight against him. It was all you could do to keep your feet planted firmly on the ground.
Meanwhile, Ging and Razor were continuing their conversation.
“Think your replacement will be happy to see you back?” Ging asked.
“They'll probably just be relieved that they'll be done overseeing my duties,” Razor answered, “it usually takes them a few days after before they're at one hundred percent power again.”
“Well of course. The emission system was designed with specifically you in mind. There's no way anyone can run it as smoothly as you do.”
“Yeah.”
Despite his short answer, there was a hint of pride within Razor's voice, and the heavy air around you lifted somewhat.
Ging then looked back to you, smiling as he said “and now we've got this one, it'll be even better than before.”
And just like that, the air was suffocating again. It was like Razor had briefly forgotten the way he had been upset with you only to be shortly reminded of it.
Did Ging know that would happen?
…. Did he do it on purpose?
“Well, I'll let you get going then,” Ging then said, “I'm sure there's a lot you need to talk to them about.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, and you're free to use your hatsu now if you need to.”
Razor nodded as he said “see you, Ging.”
Ging waved in response before he turned away.
Razor did the same, one hand remaining on your arm as he began to drag you behind him.
Except your legs didn't want to work, still feeling weak and like they would bend beneath you at any moment. You stumbled along for only a few steps before he bent down to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder.
He handled you roughly as he did so, the breath in your lungs pushing out with a sharp gasp before he continued along. Again he was holding you tightly after, as if with the intent to bruise, like he wanted to leave marks on your skin beneath your clothing. You frequently felt the way his fingers twitched, like he was fighting the urge to do something violent. You were crying now, but your throat was too clogged up to make any noise.
The position you were now in allowed you to watch Ging as he walked away from the two of you. His hands were in his pockets again and he walked at a relaxed pace.
If you weren't so terrified of Razor you might have screamed at the man who gave you back to your kidnapper. Maybe wish torture and death upon him.
But you didn't dare let any noise escape you now.
Why did this need to happen to you?
That thought repeated itself through the entire walk back to the boat while you quietly cried atop Razor's shoulder. Like that very first night, he had yet to say anything. And once you reached the small flight of stairs that led down inside the boat, he moved you off his shoulder.
He pushed you down the stairs just as quickly and you tumbled down into the darkness.
Despite the short fall, it still hurt when you landed, your arms taking the brunt of it. However, you barely let out a pained groan afterwards, instead quietly sitting upright before you curled in on yourself, nursing your bruised arms. It still felt like a bad idea to say anything. Even though Razor hadn't come down, you still felt that air around you. Something bad was going to happen shortly.
The sound of an engine coming to life and reverberating through the small vessel caught your attention, as did the way the boat began to move away from the docks and out onto the water.
Perhaps that meant he wouldn't come down. If he was too busy driving the boat, then you would probably be left here until he reached his destination. That wasn't bad. If he took some time away from you, then maybe he wouldn't be as upset when he saw you again.
Deciding on that being what was most likely to happen, you settled down on the floor, anticipating a long, lonely journey.
Someone's hand grabbed at you in the darkness.
Now you screamed.
On instinct, you tried to pull your arm away. Your attempt was unsuccessful, and the hand hauled you up to your feet.
Another hand grabbed at you, this time clamping down onto your leg. No matter how hard you tried to kick them away, you couldn't escape their grip.
Someone else grabbed your legs, wrapping their arms around one of your knees so you were unable to move. At that same time, someone else grabbed your free hand, and both of your arms were stretched out away from your body, making it even harder to struggle.
You still tried, though. Even when a body came up from behind you and hooked their elbows beneath your armpits, you did everything in your power to wiggle out of those hands that held onto you.
If only that had been enough.
Within moments you were completely immobilized, your body held down by the multitude of hands that had come from the darkness. The only thing you could do was scream, and the ability to do even that was taken away when a large palm slapped over your mouth. Tears continued to stream down your face.
The lights were suddenly turned on, forcing you to close your eyes while you heard Razor descend the small flight of stairs. It took a few moments of blearily opening your eyes before they adjusted to the light, but when they did, you found Razor standing in front of you.
But you weren't able to keep your focus on him for long, not when you saw who was holding you. Several men dressed in white and blue, their blue caps covering their eyes.
….. No, not men.
Things.
They weren't human. They couldn't be. Despite their humanoid shapes, the wide smiles that were filled with the dangerously sharp teeth wasn't something any human you knew of possessed. The pure white skin was also a sign that these weren't human. Not just from the sight alone, but from how that skin felt against your own. It felt artificial, and their touch was completely cold. And while you weren't able to see any of their eyes due to the blue caps adorned with numbers, every single one of them was looking right at you, smiling at you while they held you down.
Your breathing became harsher as you began to truly panic, your sobs muffled by the hand that kept you silent. You were quickly becoming lightheaded.
Somehow, the one that was covering your mouth realized this as they pulled their hand away, and you took in a few desperate gulps of air before you focused on Razor again.
His expression was just as grim as it had been when he was outside.
“Trust is an awful thing to break,” he said.
He stepped forward, and your body tensed as you tried to back away from him. Unsurprisingly, the grip those creatures had on you remained strong.
“It can take a long time to build up even in the best of circumstances, and then it can shatter completely with a single lie,” he continued.
“Or a single act.”
Razor stood before you now, towering over you with a dark look in his eyes.
“I thought we had an understanding,” he said to you, “after what we talked about, after what you said to me yesterday, I really thought that we had gotten somewhere. That even if you didn't entirely understand it, the soulmate connection was enough to keep you from running,” he continued.
“But you were lying through your teeth about everything, weren't you?”
His expression when he said that was too scary and you looked down, focusing instead on the creature that had wrapped it's arms around your knee.
You weren't allowed to look away for long as Razor grabbed you by your face and forced you to look up at him, being forced to maintain the uncomfortable eye contact.
Unable to keep yourself calm, your breathing came in harsh as you stared back at him.
And for some reason that seemed to have an effect, as the look on his face softened ever so slightly.
Razor sighed.
“Maybe…. Maybe this hurts a bit more than I expected because we're soulmates,” he thought aloud, “maybe I thought, even without the nen, that you would understand faster because the connection should have been enough.”
“I-I'm – I'm not-” you began.
He moved his hand up so it covered your mouth, cutting you off from whatever excuse he felt would fall from your mouth. Now that you were again unable to speak, you sniffled against his hand while the tears that ran down your cheek met with his fingers.
The boat was still moving, and had seemingly picked up a bit more speed as it continued forward through the water. It was going further and further away from the land, further and further out to the open ocean. You remembered what you had told yourself before:
You weren't getting away now.
Resigning yourself to your fate, you slumped over in the grip of those monsters, your body going limp. Continuing to resist now was thoroughly meaningless.
And some part of you said that it always had been.
It was still quiet; Razor said nothing more, you only continued to quietly cry and those creatures hadn't uttered a single word the entire time. The only things that kept it from being completely silent were the hum of the engine and the sound of the waves that hit the hull of the boat.
When he pulled his hand off of your mouth, you said nothing, continuing to stare up at him as you bit your lip.
Then Razor smiled.
“Ah well. Us being soulmates doesn't mean that we won't make some mistakes now and then, right?”
Despite the pleasant expression on his face, the mood in the room was anything but. Even when he used his thumb to wipe the tears from your face, the action lacked any sort of kindness. There was still a smothering aura that surrounded both him and you, though now it had significantly lessened.
But that didn't make him feel any less dangerous.
“We have several hours before we get to Greed Island – that's plenty of time for us to become acquainted properly. And I'm sure that by the end of it, we'll have both learned some things about each other.”
The smile on Razor's face had never looked more menacing.
“After all, if there's anyone who can forgive me about what I'm about to do, it'll be my soulmate, right?”
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gilverrwrites · 6 months ago
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Something cute and smutty with either Tim Drake or Roy ?
AND: What about a one bed trope for Tim pls??
Dream a little dream of me
Tim Drake/Reader, ≈1.8K AN: I don't know if theres such a phrases as 'porn first, questions later' but thats what this is lmao. I'm glad theres an audience for Tim, cause as much as I love the other Robins (wink wink Dick), as a bisexual 90s kid, Tim really is my Robin, ya know? CWs: Somnophilia (but not really), dry humping, intercrural sex/thigh job, hand job, Petnames: Baby, sweetheart Tropes: One bed, friends to lovers, porn with feelings. GN!Reader
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Sleeping beside you is neither new nor unusual for Tim. You’d been close friends for years, he’d crashed in your bed after many a patrol, you’d had film or study nights at the manor which always ended with you hogging his bed sheets, and in more recent years you’d huddled together on the cramped mattress he called a bed in the lower deck of his boat on multiple occasions. It had always been so natural and innocent, so why was this hotel bed any different? Well, because his budding, inappropriate crush on you had grown in the time since you’d last shared a comforter; Tim had been having not-so-innocent dreams about you.
Dreams where he got to touch, tease, and taste every inch of your exposed skin until you’re a babbling, pleading mess. Dreams where he silenced your breathy cries and begs by telling you to “be good baby”, spreading your legs, and running the tip of his cock along your entrance. Where you look at him with those big, dreamy eyes of yours right up until it’s too much, until he’s bottomed out inside of you and you can’t help but throw your head back, calling out his name as you dig your nails into his back.
“That feels... so… good.” The sound of your voice calls out to him, but your dream self is in no position to be speaking so coherently.
Wait, dream?
His mind is fuzzy as he wakes, still heavy with sleep, part of his brain tries desperately to clutch onto the fleeting imagery in his head until he realises two very important things;  
1. Your body is pressed against his. You’re turned away from him, but he can still feel your warmth, the pressure of your back to his chest, your ass to his… crotch. 2. His ‘crotch’ is rock hard.
Despite all instinct telling him to immediately pull away, he waits. Concerned his sudden movement might cause you to stir, he slows himself. Forcing his body to hold back so he can remove himself in increments. Just a little bit, and then a bit more, and more? He swears he’s doing it, swears he’s at least half a foot away from where he’d been upon waking, but you’re still pushing against him, still rolling your hips.
“Tim~”
It’s at this moment Tim has a third, pivotal realisation.
3. You’re grinding on him.
The sound of Tim’s low voice whispering your name against the shell of your ear slowly coaxs you awake. Every warm breath against your skin sends a rush of heat to your already aching sex. You’d been having such a peaceful, steamy dream in which your best friend, and secret crush; Tim had been tenderly rocking his cock into you from behind. As you take in the hotel room and the hotness of Tim’s body spooning into you, you can’t tell if you’re awake or still dreaming.
“Can you feel that?” His hushed voice pierces the quietness of the room and you’re not sure what he’s talking about until he surges forward, further pressing the hardness of his clothes cock into the curve of your ass.
“Yes.” You murmur, only intending to answer his question but your sleeply lust-ridden psyche keeps talking. “Don’t stop, I like it.”
“Yeah?” He’s so grateful you’re not looking at him in that moment, otherwise, you’d see the undeniable redness currently rushing to his cheeks. Even in the dark of the night, he’s sure it’s glowing through. “I think we’ve been humping each other in our sleep.”
“I’m sorry.” The fear of his rejection is immediately thrown out when you feel his lips on your pulse point, but you have to ask anyway. “Do you want to stop?”
“No, no, god no.” He trails soft kisses along the side of your neck, each one growing sloppier until he finds and fixates on your jaw for far too short a time. “You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasised about this. About you. I want you so bad.”
“I want you too, Tim.” A million and one thoughts run through his head in that moment. How much time had the two of you wasted skirting around the subject? What does this mean for your future and your friendship? The only thing he doesn’t think of as he absent-mindedly ruts against you is the one you ask. “Do you have any protection?”
“I have my Red Robin suit in my case.” It’s a dumb joke he can’t help but make, you laugh anyway and he thinks he might love you for it.
“No, but that’s okay. We can make this work.” You hear the snap of your waistband hitting your hip before you feel it. Tim had playfully pulled it taught before letting go to pull down his boxers. Getting the point, you take his cue, shimmying out of your own underwear just in time for Tim to reattach himself to your back and press his open mouth to your shoulder. “Spread your legs baby.”
As you do, Tim slides his cock between them. You wish you’d turned the light on so you could get a better look, but no force on earth could pry you away from him now. Understanding his plan, you don’t wait to be told to close your legs again, engulfing his length with the soft skin of your inner thighs and slowly beginning to rock your hips.
Tim reached over your body, grazing his deft fingers around your waist and across your stomach. A whine escapes your lips as he dips lower to rub along the length of your arousal, his cock twitches between your legs. Knowing it's so close makes you feel empty, makes you ache to feel him deep inside you, makes the tension in your core coil even more.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re dripping.” He can hear the wonderment in his own voice as he glides his thumb around you. In response you clench your thighs even harder around his cock, making him groan into your neck.
It isn’t long before your grinding hard and fast around his dick, gripping his arm as you get lost in the moment. The combined sensations feels so good, and you can’t get enough.
Neither can Tim. He could never have dreamed that the reality would feel so good. He’s in awe of the way your body moves, of the pornographic noises you’re making for him. He can barely focus. He wants to hold on longer, wants to bask in your warmth and scent for as long as possible but your merciless rhythm and the feel of your thighs around his throbbing cock has him chasing his climax way too soon.
“Are you close?” He sputters. You answer with a string of incomprehensible whimpers and a weak nod. He isn’t even in you, and you’re already drunk on your best friend. You’d be ashamed if you had the capacity to care in that moment. “Come with me?”
It’s a question, not a command. This is a partnership, he wants you to feel connected, not controlled and that has your toes curling.
Simultaneously your thrusting becomes strained, and more erratic as his pumping grows faster, and sloppier, both of you getting lost in your highs but still determined to ride out the other, filling the room with deep, ragged breaths until you’re shuddering in his arms, savouring every last remnants of pleasure. The way his strong hands cup your body has you feeling safe in your post-orgasm euphoria.
It isn’t until you feel the moisture of your combined cum seeping into the fabric below you that you remember there’s a world outside of you and him. You sit up simultaneously, Tim reaches for the bedside lamp and is stunned by the sight of your sweat-sheened skin and heavy eyes when he turns back. Completely unaware that you’re thinking the same thing about his flushed cheeks and fluffy bedhead.
You gesture to the puddle you’re currently half-sat in and joke; “The hotel cleaners are going to hate us.”
Before you can exit the bed, Tim is on his feet and rushing to the ensuite. He returns a moment later with a roll of tissues and a damp cloth. You’ve rolled over, face down on his side of the bed in an attempt not to spread the fluids even more and he gets to work wiping the cum from your leg in slow, circular motions. It shouldn’t take this long, you both know it, he’s just enjoying the moment.
“That was really…” You’d wanted to fill the silence, but now you’re not sure how to finish, you don’t want to scare him away with your excitement, but you want him to know how good he made you feel. “Really wow.”
“Really wow.” He repeats with a teasing snicker, dodging when you reach out to playfully smack his shoulder. “What? What? It was wow.”
He’s teasing. With a 147 IQ, he knows a better word than wow, but he’s choosing to repeat yours, tone and all. It’s not like he hasn’t messed with you before, and you’ve always been able to dish it back, but now feels different. Now is different.
“So, I take it we’re not just friends anymore?” You ask as he climbs over you to work on the wet patch. Eventually, he finds a position kneeling at the bottom of the bed, and you roll over once more, now seated and positioned to watch him.
“Um, no.” He coughs, not to clear his throat but to prolong his time to think of an answer. Your gaze is making him nervous. He doesn’t know what you want him to say, doesn’t want to come on too strong and ruin your friendship, but he also doesn’t want to seem too lax, to make you think he’s just using you or that he’s not interested in something more than friendship. “Friends definitely don’t do that.”
“So, what are we?” You push, not missing the way his adams-apple bobs as he swallows back his nerves.
“I don’t know.” His chest immediately grows tight at the hurt look that spreads across your face. Fuck it, now or never. “But whatever we are, I’m yours.”
Your expression doesn’t immediately change, and he worries he’s misread your reaction. Assumed that you want him the way he wants you.
“If you want me that is.” He continues, trying to save face.
“Of course, I want you, Tim.” He hadn’t realised how tense the conversation was making him until he heard those magic words. In seconds you’re face to face with him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him close to offer your body as comfort. You’ve always been able to read and react to him so well, like you were programmed for him. “You can be mine, if I can be yours.”
Then he feels your lips pucker against his hairline, and despite having climaxed between your legs only minutes earlier, he’s suddenly more nervous than he’s ever been. Gently, you drag your lips down his face, leaving kisses along his brow line, his cheekbones, and his jowls until you're inches from his own lips.
Your eyes dart back and forth between his own eyes and his mouth, he licks his lips in preparation for yours and then you’re on him, lips locked, tangled in each other’s arms.
There’s a drying stain waiting to be cleaned, and a long day ahead of you both tomorrow, but right now none of that matters.
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ao3topshipsbracket · 9 months ago
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Welcome to the Unofficial Top Tumblr Relationships Bracket!
Many people on Tumblr might have engaged in the practice of "shipping" in relation to "media". Some, according to legend, even have opinions on these matters.
If the above happens to apply to you, you might be eligible to vote in this bracket! We have pitted the most popular pairings of the 2023 Tumblr Year in Review against each other to see who will emerge victorious. Round 1 polls drop on Saturday, April 20th at 1PM PDT, and will run for a full week.
Check current vote counts here!
Further information is below the cut!
How was the bracket made?
This bracket was made based off Tumblr's 2023 year in review ship list, and edited to fit into a workable bracket. Matchups were seeded according to ranking on the list.
What are your stances on voter fraud, campaigning, bribing people with drabbles and/or art, etc?
Enthusiastically in favor, although we do ask that you don't DDOS Tumblr, and ideally don't commit any murders that can be traced back to us.
Why aren't there platonic relationships in this bracket? There were in the AO3 one.
The AO3 data we were working with included all kinds of relationship tags, including platonic ones. The Tumblr year in review top ship list does not.
I have an issue with [x] being included in this poll.
This poll is a celebration of fandom and fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with some of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement of anything included in the bracket, and refrain from harassment.
In general, please remember that this is intended to be a fun time for the wide community which is fandom culture, and treat each other with respect!
Bracket Schedule!
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thesilmarillionblog · 7 months ago
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𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u
Part: 8
Click here to read the first part.
Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.
Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader
Warnings: heavy angst, hurt , language, PTSD, mention of drugs, mention of torture
Word Count: 4674
A/N: English is not my first language.
* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.
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You asked Ben again, “What did you do to those people?” while he continued to look at your furious and angered look.
He avoided watching the news and simply replied in a dry voice, “I didn't mean to hurt them. Everything happened so quickly.”
Despite your hopes that, after all this time, he would change a little, you came to the conclusion that his appearance was the only thing that had changed. He was the same guy who hurt everyone around him like they were just insects, never thinking twice about it. He remained the same merciless man who just cared about himself.
You were too ignorant to believe that it was Crimson Countess had drastically changed him, but this was simply another lie you told yourself in defense of Ben's behavior. It was just who he really was.
You talked softly while Butcher continued to watch TV, “How can you even stay the same after all the things that happened to you?”
“I killed the doctor who hurt and tortured you. You already knew; whatever I did for him, he deserved it,” he angrily said, gesturing to you as though he were doing you a favor and somehow trying to convince you.
“Should I feel like a graduate and thank you?” You questioned him bitterly, glaring at him. “You are the reason I spent decades being imprisoned and subjected to torture in vain. You are the reason I am currently homeless and the state's number two foe. How come you're still so blind and self-centered?”
Ben grumbled, “Calm down, baby,” ignoring your inquiries as he roughly grabbed the remote control out of Butcher's hand and flicked through the channels. “We can talk about things at a later time. For now, take a moment to rest.”
Ben continued to stare at the TV and shifted on the couch in an attempt to make himself more comfortable, so you replied, “Don't call me 'baby.'”
“It looks like Tony Montana is going to bed alone tonight.” With a cunning grin, Butcher attempted to reclaim the remote control from Ben's grasp. “Also, don’t be dramatic and so upset, you have a place to stay, you’re not homeless.”
“Tony Montana—who the fuck is he?” Ben muttered, pushing Butcher's hands a little too hard while refusing to give up the remote control. “I’m in charge in here. What I watch, you'll watch too.”
“Hey, you remember our deal, don't you? I'm hoping you won't back down.”
You turned to Butcher and questioned, “What deal?” with a confused gaze on your face when he suddenly started speaking in a serious and mysterious tone.
Ben stepped in immediately and shot Butcher a quick glance, saying, “It's not so important.”
“All right, there's nothing to worry about. Your teammate just promised me that he would help me kill a cunt named Homelander.”
Ben kept shooting Butcher with a deadly look as he immediately spilled the beans.
“I'm not worried about anything,” you cut Butcher off abruptly, averting Ben's tough stare. “Whatever he's up to, he's alone in this. But tell me, what’s deal about.”
“Sweetheart, I don't need your help anyway. You simply stay at home and take care of things while you chill,” Ben said in an amused way, attempting to hide his tiny sense of hurt that came from your coldness.
He didn't intend to include anything that would distress you further, but he couldn't stop remembering the times you supported and fought alongside him. He would never ask you to get involved in the Homelander situation, though, since he knows you've already been through a lot of terrible things. He was also too proud to accept your assistance.
Turning to face you, Butcher added, “You don’t have to be so ruthless. He made the deal to get help from me to save you.”
Butcher believed that, given Homelander's strength, helping him would be beneficial and that it would be great if you would just soften and offer a helping hand. Butcher knew Soldier Boy would be happy to let you fight alongside him, as he was aware that he took your suit from Legend. You were once the strongest superwoman, after all, and he would have a better chance of finally killing Homelander.
Hughie, thankfully, returned to join you with a meal in his hands before you could ask Butcher any more questions. You were so hungry that you didn't even realize it until you smelled pizza. It was all about pleasure, yet even if you starved for decades, you wouldn't die.
Hughie smiled hesitantly and said, “Sorry, I didn't ask you before ordering, but I hope you're okay with pizza.” It's likely that he was the only decent person in the room. You wondered why this person was willing to work with a man like Butcher. He gave off an air of deception.
“Of course it's okay,” you said as soon as you smelled it. You then gave him a graditude look and said, “Thanks a lot.”
Ben quickly got up, tossed the remote control in Butcher's face, and grabbed the pizza from Hughie's hands as he sat next to you before you could move. Ben stepped closer, spreading his legs a little and making contact with your thighs, but you put some distance between you two right away. You didn’t understand why he was acting like that out of the blue, but you didn’t ask anything.
None of you spoke, even though you felt Ben's gaze briefly lingering on you. Although you were unsure of what Ben truly wanted from you, you were determined to learn from your past mistakes. Therefore, it was best to clarify it for him as well.
Upon seeing Noir's visual on TV, you exclaimed in shock, “Is Noir still working for Vought?”
That was the moment you understood. Earving never came to save you. If he just wanted to, you knew he could and would find you. You could understand why he might not have wanted to take the risk of going through the same things with you if he had a legitimate reason for not saving you. You had no right to be selfish. However, you were certain that you would behave differently if he were in your place. You therefore couldn't help but feel a little let down.
Ben angrily remarked, “Of course he does,” as he watched you devour the pizza. “He wouldn't even take his shit without the permission of Vought. Fucking traitor. He didn't even give a fuck about the things you went through all those years. I had no doubts that he was going to abuse your friendship. There was always something sneaky about him.”
You couldn’t left out a small hiss as Ben started to talk about loyalty.
“All right,” you replied, casting him a piercing glance. “I got used to being betrayed.”
He aggressively exclaimed, “Don't compare me with that son of a bitch,” and launched into a self-defense tirade. “I came to save you too as soon as I was free, and I looked for you everywhere.”
“How could I ever compare you with him while I know you are worse. And yes, Ben, you're quite considerate to have searched me in the Countess' home. Many thanks for it.”
“I payed a visit to her because I knew she was most probably the one tricked you. It was nothing else.”
“Whatever,” you said back harshly. “I don’t care anyways.”
Butcher interrupted you after making a brief phone call in the kitchen, saying, “Listen here, Bonnie and Clyde. Hughie and I need to get out and meet some buddies, but if you're not going to make trouble and if you don't want to fuck in peace all night, it's best if you don't stay at home. In every other case of emergency, you need to join us.”
You hurriedly swallowed the large slice of pizza and gasped, “We won't... I mean, we wouldn't,” to Butcher. Your cheeks flushed. “It's not like we're together or anything, so don't misinterpret and talk like this, please.”
Ben leaned back to the coach and said, “Well, I'm all in, baby,” pleased to see you flushed and in a panic. “Keep in mind that. Since I'm free, I didn't even fucking jerk off once. You can use me however you like,” he stated, stretching his legs and making an attempt to brush against you briefly while grinning genuinely and invitingly.
You grumbled, “I'm trying to enjoy my meal here,” ignoring the absolute filth that was flowing from his mouth.
“All right, that's OK.” Butcher urged you to complete your dinner, saying, “You can continue eating where we go. We must leave in five minutes.”
Ben growled, “Don't fucking order her around.”
“It's fine,” you stopped eating right away. “Where we're going to go?”
“We have to get some Temp-V from Hughie's friend. It appears that we will need to use it soon,” Butcher replied, glancing at Ben. “Unfortunately, you can't beat Homeland with just one guy.”
Ben did not even respond to Butcher's crap; he only rolled his eyes. He was aware that Homelander would be the easiest to take down. He was Soldier Boy, and someone of Butcher's age wouldn't fully get who he was.
You and Ben were seated in the back of Butcher's car, and Ben was covering the whole place almost as if he wanted you to lean into his body. He was always on the move, both his hands and his legs, and occasionally you would think he looked a bit bashful if you didn't know just how arrogant he really was. Somehow, you sensed the uncertainty, but you didn't look him up or ask him questions.
You couldn't help but feel confused and depressed as you gazed out of the car window at the enormous, gleaming structures. You no longer felt like you belonged in the world because so many years had passed in a tiny little cage. It seemed as though no one knew you, cared about you, or you had no place to stay. It's not your world, but rather other people's, that you see when you peek out the window.
You said, “Everything looks so different,” as a sense of melancholy took over you.
“Not at all,” Ben remarked in an arrogant tone, as if he had figured out everything in a single day. “I've learned many things; I will teach you all; don't worry.”
You challenged him, casting him a skeptical glance. “What do you know?”
“Well, I might teach you a thing or two because you're too eager to learn. For instance, GPS and the Internet were quite helpful in helping us learn about you and the place you were kept,” he added with pride as he smiled at you and waited for your reaction.
You whispered, “You're just making those words up,” unsure if he was trying to trick you.
“Those words are real words. I had said the same to that fuckface; believe me, sweetheart,” he continued, giving Hughie a harsh shoulder pat. “Hand over your damn android phone to me.”
Hughie murmured in distress, “Oh, God,” as Butcher nodded awkwardly and gave him an odd look. “Just don’t break it or something, please.”
Hughie handed his phone reluctantly to Ben, who took it with a swift move, and Ben used it like a pro, tapping the screen quickly. When he wrote down his name and yours on the screen called 'Google', your eyes widened open as you saw a ton of images and details about the two of you, Payback, and everything else.
Captivated by what Ben showed you, you muttered, “Everything about us is written down there.”
“See,” he declared with pride, chuckling at your bewildered response. “I told you I was very well-informed. The name of this one is Internet.”
You challenged him again, interested in learning more about this small device, which seemed to know a lot of things. The modern world is unquestionably something else, with easy access to knowledge at any time and about any subject matter.
“I am familiar with social media. If you don't want to be identified by your real identity, you can put up a fake profile and follow anybody you want. I made one for the two of us as well.” Ben responded, seeming proud of everything he had achieved with a cunning smile on his face.
You pretended to understand everything he said as you asked, “And what's your fake name?”
“It’s ‘soldierboyy/n69.' Pretty creative, isn't it?”
“Oh my gosh, Ben,” you said, pushing the phone and his hands in an annoyed tone as your face turned red. “Everyone will know that it is you. I shall be accused of having once again supported your actions if they find out the identity of your account. Why do you act so carelessly?”
“Everyone has those fake names,” Ben said, grimacing at how much you disapproved of what he had done. Nobody will find out because I'm not using it anyway."
He intended to show you that he never thought of himself apart from you and that he thought of you even while he was setting up the account, but all he managed was to distress and upset you once more. Observing your defensively crossed arms on your chest, he sighed and moved his strong arms to your seat in an attempt to get close to you.
“How are you so sure?” you asked as he handed over the phone to Hughie in a rude manner.
“Because that's the way the modern world works, sweetheart. Nothing and anyone are real when it comes to Internet.”
“Indeed,” Butcher said, glancing at the two of you through the mirror. “He is right; no one will find out. It's not really a big deal; trust me, if it were, I would have problems as well because of him.”
You cut it short, closing your eyes and lowering your head to the seat. “Okay,” you mumbled.
It was as though some odd numbness overcame your body, leaving you exhausted and unbalanced even after decades of sleep. It was most likely due to the quantity of sleep that your body became accustomed to, and it's also possible that you were experiencing a side effect from what you experienced in the lab. Nonetheless, it didn't concern you because you knew you still had your strength. You only needed to get a bit more rest. As you closed your eyes to give your body a break until you got there, you inhaled deeply.
You slowly opened your eyes, feeling Ben's gentle touch on your cheek, and heard him say, “You really turned into sleeping beauty, didn't you?” in a lighthearted manner.
“Have we arrived?” you muttered as you opened your eyes and noticed his intense gaze on you. The moment Butcher and Hughie slammed the car door, you immediately fully came to your senses.
Ben nodded, confused, not knowing how to react to your coldness as you gently moved his hands away from your face.
Ben and you had just followed Butcher and Hughie to the small, slightly desolate house. You looked around the room, and the other two women, who were glancing at you warily, exchanged glances. You could tell they were supes, just like you, from the whiff of Comp-V in their scents. You were a little nervous because you had no idea what their intentions were toward you. You had no friends or someone to rely on anymore, and you were a stranger to everything after all.
“Ladies, how are you doing here?” Butcher grabbed a glass of whiskey from the kitchen and inquired as he sat down right away on the closest couch.
“I can't believe you and you especially you Hughie,” the blonde remarked angrily. “You two really set them both free, and you forced me to take so much Temp-V; we're going to be caught. It's only a matter of time.”
“So you're the supe woman that bottom-faced guy pounding?” Ben aggressively exclaimed, pushing the short-haired man to the right while he snatched a cola from the refrigerator. “And the one who works for Vought when you're not getting off and doing other things.”
“Stop it, Ben,” you said in a warned tone as his abrupt aggression caused the air to thicken.
“Why don't we just sit down and have a nice chat?” Hughie looked at you anxiously, as if you wanted to soothe Ben before anything happened.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he said, flashing you a cunning grin when he spotted you approaching him, and you gave him a cold look while he sipped his coke in joy.
“Well, Annie, that it wasn't in vain. Soldier Boy and I struck very useful bargain, didn't we?” Butcher inquired, glancing back to Ben with a sly smile. “We're going to kill Homelander together.”
You felt uneasy, and your thoughts turned to the Homelander once again. Even if you didn't care about Ben at all, you couldn't help but feel concerned because you were both strangers to Vought and the outside world now that Ben had gotten into so much trouble. Not only did you not want to return to the lab, but you also didn't want Ben to go through the same painful experiences. Even though he had been vile to you, you didn't want him to suffer forever in Russia.
Annie replied, “You should have told me, Hughie,” casting a disappointed glare at her boyfriend. “You’re so acting strangely these days.”
Hughie insecurely responded, “I know, I know,” rubbing her cheeks. “And I’m really sorry for it. It won’t happen again.”
The man with short hair said, “You all know that they both are being searched by the government, right?”
Butcher shot back, “Of course we all fucking know that, Frenchie.”
Annie looked at you and said, “Well, I guess Y/N's situation is worse,” while you stood by Ben, watching him carefully to make sure he didn't suddenly lose his temper and start some serious drama. “Well, she's a known traitor after all.”
You immediately defended yourself by saying, “I'm not a traitor,” and you were enraged at her haughty demeanor. Despite her lack of knowledge, she was constantly talking about things she had no idea about. “Vought only spread lies and caused us pain in order to build up the next generation, which is your generation. They tortured me for years just because I wanted to quit.”
Annie's expression softened as she realized that Vought would do something like that and that she was having trouble as well in Seven. She then apologized to you by looking at you and sincerely saying, “I'm sorry to hear that.”
She went on, making an effort to get you to see how complicated the situation was, saying, “But you need to understand that no one will believe you. For all this time, you have been regarded as a spy for the entire world. The same remains for Soldier Boy.”
“What is your point?” Ben cut her off with a harsh voice.
Ben was becoming mad at those morons; they were just some stupid kids who liked to order other kids around, but he was a man, a true leader, the strongest supe to live, and they had no idea what him and you had been through or who had been in charge decades earlier. He was already becoming a little tense about that blonde's cunning ideas, so he realized he had to proceed with caution going forward. He had to watch out for you too, in order to keep you safe.
With defensive hands on her hips, Annie retorted, “The thing is, it's best if you don't see each other for a while. I can help you spend a week in various secure locations, separated.”
Ben abruptly tensed up, enraged that the blonde had already made plans in her cunning mind to keep him away from you. “No fucking way,” he said. He was certain that those fucked-brains would propose something so incredibly moronic.
Even if it made sense, you realized those new guys weren't to be trusted as they were strangers. It was true that you needed some alone time apart from Ben, but for the time being, it was preferable to ignore what you’re told.
“Everyone is talking about what happened in New York and Ohio,” Annie said furiously. “I’m just asking you two be hidden for a week. Everything’s already complicated in Vought and I have my own problems.”
“Look, sneaky woman,” Ben hissed, “I don’t give fuck about your problems or anything at all. If you ever suggest such thing, you won’t have a head to think such idiotic things anymore. I’m warning you.”
“Ben, you need to calm down,” you said. You scowled at the feeling that his chest was unusually heated compared to normal. 
Frenchie agreed, saying, “Y/N is right; there is no need to fight each other.” The supe woman next to him smiled and patted his shoulders.
Butcher responded, “Annie is right too, though,” as he examined the Temp-V carefully on his lap. “Too much attention has been paid to Soldier Boy during the past three days. We are also doomed if he is seen soon enough.”
“They could be right,” you acknowledged, nodding to Butcher, understanding that his points were reasonable. Since you and Ben were currently the state's number one and two foes, you also didn't want to get into any sort of trouble.
Ben cursed, “Fuck that,” and he gave Butcher a menacing stare. He got offended at the fact that you instantly agreed with them but not with him. “I didn't realize I had done business with so many jerks. If you're that afraid of what's ahead, I might accept your suggestion, but Y/N is staying with me.”
“Calm down, buddy. Why are you so obsessed?” Butcher questioned, putting the bag down from his lap.
When you realized Ben was about to start an argument without reason, you asked him, “Why are you being like this?” in an irritated tone.
“Are you saying that you're prepared to follow those fuckfaces' instructions?” While you could tell he was angry, he inquired quietly, “What's wrong with you?”
Ben set down the coke and paid no attention to Butcher's irritating remarks. Instead, his attention was drawn to you. The fact that you didn't trust him but did trust the new people you had met most disturbed him. It was not them who saved you, but it was him who considered your safety and future. Still, you were ready to follow what they had to say. You'd been away from each other for a long time, so there was no reason to spend another minute separately.
“I'm not saying anything, Ben. I just want you to quit being irrationally dissatisfied and to be reasonable.”
Butcher sighed as he watched you start to debate, but Annie grasped Hughie's arm and guided him to another room to have a conversation.
Ben stated, “I'm not getting angry for no reason,” while attempting to stay controlled.
Despite Ben was desperate to touch you, he restrained himself since he knew that you two needed to have discussed the situation before acting on it. How in the world was he supposed to talk to you properly after a week apart? “I'm just saying, we don't have to spend a week alone and separated,” Ben said with a low voice.
Your eyes wandered around everywhere except for him.
“I'm not sure, Ben,” you teased him, feeling hesitant about his response. “Maybe we should.”
“How can you be sure that those people won't imprison you to a metal box once more? Do you really want to go back to that lab? You're saying you have faith in them, but not in me?”
You angrily gasped, “Don't you ever talk to me about trust. I would never make the same mistake by trusting you again.”
He tried to calm himself down, saying, “I'm the only one who saved you,” but the heat inside his chest kept growing.
“Will you stop arguing?” Butcher got up and asked, watching Ben trap you against the kitchen table while grinning at Ben and sipping his whiskey. “She obviously wants to be by herself for a while. Would you please just accept her decision and let her to enjoy herself?”
Ben angrily remarked, “Mind your fucking own business; we are fucking having a conversation here.”
You stopped disputing with him and cast a puzzled glance at his chest as soon as you felt the warmth in his chest increasing once more.
Butcher said, “It's like you're forcing her for something she doesn't want to though. Don't be such a drama queen,” ignoring Frenchie's warnings. “She might just want to spend time alone in a nice place and fuck with some hot dudes, savor the time she missed all those years.”
Ben snarled, turning to face Butcher and ignoring you this time. “Watch your fucking language," he growled. “If you say one more word, I fucking swear I'll rip your heads off.”
Ben's chest began to glow suddenly before he could finish his sentence, and your eyes widened, sensing the anxiety and the heat coming from his body.
“Ben,” you whispered quietly, uneasy with his rage and the anguish on his face, as if he tried to maintain self-control.
With an expression of fright on his face, Frenchie and the supe woman next to him also retreated a step. “Calm down, buddy,” Butcher muttered. “Let's not cause another accident. You've already done enough damage, huh. ”
But Ben's chest continued to glow, alerting you. “Hey, what's wrong with you?” you asked as you walked up to him, stroking his arms and then his face and making him to look at you.
He snarled, “I can't hold it,” and shoved your hands away right away. “Stay away from me.”
Instead of following commands, you remained in the same spot and continued to massage his upper arms in an effort to soothe him though you got extremely anxious. Then, in the hopes of calming him down a little, you put your hands on his burning, hot chest. Even if there was smoke slightly arising from his body, your hands felt chilly.
You whispered, “It's okay,” feeling his temperature drop beneath your fingertips gradually.
Next Chapter
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿
A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! -`♡´-
Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeee @starryperson @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings @brynanna @delaynadee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @yoyoanaria @n-o-p-e-never @ghostslillady @certifiedhaters @deans-spinster-witch @demodemo909 @stoneyggirl @cheynovak @libby99hb @moneyburner
Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series. -`♡´-
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amorchai · 6 months ago
Note
"i'm dead, only way for me to come back to life is by a kiss.” is so jj bae 🥺 I'd love to request this one with jayj and gf reader.
𝐉𝐉 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃.
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pairing(s): jj maybank x female!reader
words: 729
warnings/tags: minor dirty innuendos but nothing sexual whatsoever!
a/n: thank you for the request, my lovey!
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the pages of the book that rests in the palm of your hands lightly wave in the breezy air as you lay in the hammock. the soft nudge of a foot against your hip makes you giggle, only causing it to continue.
“jj, stop!” you say, one hand leaving the book as you hold his ankle still. he lays at the other end of the hammock, your thighs atop his as you both sit in a comfortable silence.
of course it didn’t last long with jj involved. “i’m bored,” jj speaks, taking the baseball cap from atop his lying head to rest over his face and shield him from the sun. the gang were elsewhere, and jj insisted on spending time with you, but you were adamant on finishing your current book before the month ended.
“i don’t know how to help you here, j.” he huffs dramatically before moving his cap to look disapprovingly at you, “you’re my girlfriend, it’s one of your majors to amuse me.”
you re-read the page, jj interrupting your book, “that’s dirty,” you murmur. “you know that’s not what i meant… for once,” you hum in disagreement, retracting your foot when your boyfriend tries to tickle it.
“you’re such a toddler,” you muse lightly, leg resting against his chest as you try to get comfy again, starting the same page for the third time. “you know you love me,” jj replies, now reaching a hand to tickle the back of your knee and you squeal his name in annoyance.
“not when i have twenty pages left of my book and you can’t leave me in peace. the quicker i read, the quicker you have me to yourself.” jj huffs again, laying further down into the hammock and gripping your legs to now massage gently.
two minutes go by in silence, if you ignore the huffing and puffing from the other side of the small hammock. however, jj is quick to talk again, “you’re such a slow reader.”
“that’s it! i’m going inside until i finish the book-” you start as you begin to make your departure from the small nook, jj grips your legs in protest, “no, no, don’t leave me.” you continue, “nope, you can stay out here and once i finish my book i’ll come back out and we can do anything you want okay?”
while holding your book, you lean over to peck your annoying boyfriend’s cheek who has a knowing look on his face, “anything?”. you pull away, whacking him softly on the arm with your book, “get your mind out the gutter.”
“don’t leave me, i’ll die of boredom,” despite jj’s attempts of keeping you in the hammock, you messily make your way out, leaving a pouting boyfriend behind. you muse, “guess i’ll see you at the funeral.”
jj crosses his arms, shuts his eyes, and lobs his head to the side, “i’m dead.” you laugh, your boyfriend was the biggest idiot you knew, “jj,” you try but he shakes his head.
“i’m dead, only way for me to come back to life is by a kiss.”
you laugh again and jj sticks his tongue out slightly, a rubbish attempt at faking death. “shame, was just starting to like you as well,” you walk back over, kissing his cheek which then turns a shade of pink.
“wrong kiss, revival denied.”
“you’re an idiot, jj maybank.” jj looks at you through peeked eyes as you watch him amused, “i need the kiss of life.” you roll your eyes, “you just want more kisses,” your finger runs across his warm cheek.
jj smiles, “i don’t make the rules,” he shrugs and you lean down, “you talk an awful lot for a dead guy, maybank.” but you kiss his lips anyway, intending a peck but jj springs to hold the back of your head and kisses back desperately.
“you saved me!” jj muses with a happy chuckle, sitting up as you pull back and shake your head, “i’m dating an idiot.”
jj watches you walk away to the patio door, “and i’m dating my lifesaver, i’ll repay you one day.” looking back, you give him one last expression mixed between love and exasperation, “you can repay me in twenty pages, don’t follow me in.”
however, as you step into the house, jj is already forcing himself out the hammock to follow.
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amorchai masterlist . taglist
amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.
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just-a-ghost00 · 5 days ago
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Connection check in part (2)
To check part 1, click here.
Your current energy
A. B. C.
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Their current energy
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1 2 3
Their current energy - Group 1
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I get a very calm and steady vibe from this person regarding you and the connection. I feel like their expectations, intentions and feelings towards you are very clear in their mind and heart. The energy feels very balanced and mature. I get the impression that they feel very good in your presence and treasure the bond you share. When it comes to you, they are very open minded and have a "go with the flow" attitude. They do not overthink your intentions or feelings because I feel like they are pretty confident about their own and they have a lot of trust and faith in the Universe. This person has a very spiritual vibe. They cannot focus on their daily tasks because you are constantly on their mind. This person spends a lot of time day dreaming about you, visualizing how being with you would feel like. I get the impression that they would be okay with taking things further if you verbalized it. However, I get a frustration feeling coming from this person with that "turn your tongue 7 times in your mouth before speaking". I feel like this person is upset that you do not trust them. I'm getting the message that any fear you may have about this person is not true. For instance, if you're thinking "they must not like me because I'm too this or not enough that", spirit wants you to know that you're wrong. What you dislike about yourself may very well be what they love about you. This person would like to communicate with you more. They have a lot on their plate that they want to share but I get the feeling you're not letting them in. However this person knows that they cannot force you so they are chosing to surrender and let you see for yourself how serious they can be. They want to give you the time and space to figure out on your own how they really feel and think about you. They do not intend to run away. It's like they're saying "I'm here and I will not move, if you want me I'm okay with it and if you don't that's also cool". This person is ready for any outcome within this connection because they've made their peace with the fact that they cannot control everything and that you have free will. Though, they have a very precise vision of where they want this to go and I feel like they will do everything in their power to get there. This person is determined and rather than feeling defeated by your resistance, it actually motivates them to try harder. They have their eyes set on you and they do not intend to give up any time soon.
Their current energy - Group 2
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The person that's on your mind is chosing to set their fears and doubts aside, to ignore people's opinion and give your connection a chance. I feel like they are slowly but surely opening their heart and trying to come to terms with the idea that love doesn't have to be a struggle all the time. That not everyone in this world is trying to harm them and that there is good both in and around them. I am mostly getting air sign energy from this spread but I also pick up on Pisces and Taurus. I get the energy of someone finally accepting their dreams and letting themselves experience everything they didn't dare to do before. They're finally embracing themselves and letting themselves be seen for who they are. They are done fighting, resisting love and finally letting themselves receive. I feel like this person struggled with their self worth and they are healing that part of them through this connection. By chosing to love you and giving this connection a chance, they are also chosing themselves. They are turning the tables over and doing what feels right to them for once, instead of following others' unsollicited advice. I feel like this person never once did something for themselves and now they are finally making their own well being a priority. They are finally daring to dream and imagine what this connection could become but also what they could become. They are cutting ties with toxic patterns and people that did not serve their highest good. This person is also realizing that whenever they were acting off within this connection, it was because they were projecting their own fears onto you. They understand that though they may be different from your past connections or from what you are used to, it does not make them any less worthy of your affection. They are finally seeing their own beauty and chosing to let that beauty be shown. They are healing their heart at their own pace. For some of you, your person may be taking their distances with you to further connect with their own truth. They need time and space to see the good in them if they wish to let you in. I sense a desire to start anew and take back one's power. The energy feels very peaceful here. Almost dreamy. I feel like this connection is taking a new turn now that they have gained clarity and done some shadow work. They have a lot of affection for you but they may have realized that what they loved in you was also within themselves and that they should honor that as well.
Their current energy - Group 3
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Blue could be your person's favorite color. In terms of zodiac signs, I'm getting Gemini and Taurus mainly, also Leo was mentioned on the Azurite card. There's a lot of throat chakra activity going on here. There may have been communication blockages within this connection in the past. Your person has realized that they treated you poorly in the past. That their fears played a huge role in the connection's imbalance and communication issues you were facing. Through your interactions and the effect of this connection on them, they have been faced with a lot of their shadows. They needed a lot of courage to be able to overcome their fears around intimacy, being vulnerable and truthful around you. This person may have told you harsh truths or spoken badly of you behind your back and they regret their actions. This person understands that their judgment of you was false and when they were being judgmental towards you was because what they saw was a reflection of a part of themselves they couldn't embrace. This person was afraid of the depth of this connection and the depth of their own feelings in your presence. They were not capable of embracing the light that was shining on them thanks to this connection you shared. They were just not ready for it. With that understanding of the dynamics of your bond, this person is now choosing to be mindful and to see the truth. They are chosing to leave the past behind and move forward, renewed and rejuvenated, ridden of all their fears and judgments. Whether they choose to give you a chance or to go their own way, this person is not the same anymore. They are letting in more love into their life and softness that they didn't allow themselves to feel nor express. They may want to communicate with you about their awakening. I also get the feeling that spirit has been working behind the scenes to help this person get out of their state of confusion and see the connection clearly. Illusions were destroyed, their ego was quieted down for their heart to be allowed to shine through. When you met them, this person may have been struggling with depression, which you could have been aware of or not. I feel, thought, that your person did not want to admit that they were not okay. But interacting with you, they came to see that some things in their life needed to change. Some cleansing was needed. Most of it was in their mind I feel. It's like they failed to perceive you or themselves in a good way because their mind was clouded with negative self talk and false perceptions of love and relationships. Maybe they rejected you because of cultural differences or other factors. I'm specifically picking up on differences in communication styles or language barrier. Also, I'm getting a strong feeling that this person's friends played a huge role in them rejecting you. There were people around them that did not see your closeness in a good light and they attempted to get your person to hate you. Like spreading false rumors about you dating other people or saying stuff like "I heard group 3 doesn't like you, they spoke badly of you to their friends". But somehow your person came to understand that this wasn't true. I'm not sure what got them to change their mind about you but I really get this strong impression that they see you in a different light and have taken a new found interest in you.
Decks used : Crystals oracle, Threads of fate shadow edition, I don't care oracle deck, Soul truth oracle deck, Enchanted forest oracle cards, Beast Soul oracle cards, White Numen Tarot light edition, Spirit Junkie Oracle, Des potes en ciel Oracle
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polarisjisung · 18 days ago
Text
MISTLETOE
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synopsis: Ugly sweaters, roasting marshmallows, filling stockings, and visiting the markets— Christmas is all about tradition, right? After years of spending the holidays away from home, you and Haechan revive your favourite Christmas tradition, and perhaps adopt a new one too.
wc: 2k
pairings: (v slight) brothers bsf! haechan × fem! reader
genre: fluff
warnings: one(?) swear word
notes: was feeling homesick, so I wrote this, kinda different to how I usually write, I think
also big love to my cute mooties @winwintea + @suzayaaa for reading this for me (and fixing up my horrific grammar 🫠) ily so much 🫶🫶
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It's the most beautiful time of the year
Lights fill the streets, spreading so much cheer
It was a chilly evening, just a week before Christmas, and you were curled up on the couch in your grandmother's home.
It was tradition— the lead-up to Christmas spent in this small cottage that had just the right amount of space for your huge family game nights and bake offs. You take a moment to look around.
The soft glow of the Christmas tree lights filled the room, the one you'd helped decorate the second it hit December first, and the fireplace crackled beside you, comforting, cosy, and beautifully nostalgic.
This was the first Christmas you'd been able to spend with your folks in years.
It was only fair you felt the warmth of the living room wrap around you, grounding you in a way that felt both familiar and comforting, You missed this. Somehow you still felt a smile tugging at your lips as you thought back to last year.
Christmas dinner with your flatmates had been a disaster—burnt potatoes and a mystery bird in the oven that you still weren’t sure was chicken or turkey, potentially neither.
A total fail, you had to admit, but you sure did have the best honey glazed carrots of your life. It was a warm feeling, and perhaps in some strange way, you almost missed it, but nothing could compare to being home.
You really had missed this.
“That happy to see me, huh?”
You hadn't realised when he'd walked through the door— which considering you were currently home alone spoke volumes about your lack of spatial awareness, but you recognised him in an instant.
Black wavy hair parted roughly through the middle, specks of white scattered across his face and melting into his black coat, you'd recognise that face anywhere— Lee Haechan.
The guy who spent a few too many nights in your childhood home, playing video games, lounging around and crashing on the couch every so often.
Time seems to have treated him well, because if he wasn't before, he was cute as fuck now, and you certainly weren't ashamed to stare. Although your increasingly pink cheeks certainly didn't do you any favours even if you had intended to hide that fact.
“Haechan, it's been a while.” You spoke, making one swift move to hoist yourself up off the couch and make your way towards him.
“Too long, apparently, you haven't called me that in years”
He’s right, and though it's been months since you saw him, you still recognise the slither of hurt that lingers in the space between you.
Sure, you had stayed in touch through one too many spontaneous video calls, but something about seeing him in person again had you scratching the back of your neck.
You laugh awkwardly. Finally reaching the space in front of him you wipe your sweaty palms across the ugly Christmas sweater that your grandma had forced you to wear, “Right, Hyuck, how could I forget.”
You feel his arm wrap around you, a hug tighter and warmer than you'd ever shared, one you return with your own arms wrapped loosely around his neck.
“So what's got you all smiley?”
You shake your head, dismissive, but Haechan’s gaze presses further for an answer.
“Just glad to be back home” you respond, eyes raking over every familiar detail of the room you loved so much.
“Yeah,” he does the same, noticing how your hair's grown a little since you last spoke. “I'm glad you're back too.”
And something tells you that his words come from a place far beyond standard courtesy.
Now Haechan wouldn't openly admit it, but Christmas without you hadn't been the same.
For starters, you were a pro hot chocolate maker, a self-acclaimed, but totally deserved title, even if you did put the marshmallows on top of the cream instead of under it where they could melt.
You had always defended yourself saying it looked cuter, and who was Haechan to argue with that. He chuckles at the thought.
And how could he forget those cookies, the cookies you made every year, but still happened to burn a batch of, each time you baked them. God, he swore last Christmas he'd have done anything for one of those.
Haechan had realised how much those small details could change everything.
And if he was really being honest, Mark's hot chocolate wasn't anywhere near as good as yours, and it sure as hell didn't come with cookies.
But more than that, Haechan had just missed you.
He missed the tacky jokes you made and the ring of your laughter across the house.
He missed the way you'd walk into a room and make it feel instantly brighter or how you would show up in a Santa suit on Christmas Eve, dishing out toys to the children on the street like candy on Halloween.
Perhaps he was a little crazy, loving the constantly sniffling, snotty version of you that was always sick around this time of year— a little out of the ordinary for thinking you looked beautiful, even with a strap-on beard and a fake belly, but it was the truth.
And it was a truth he was happy to live with.
The festive season felt incomplete when you weren't around. It felt like a Christmas tree without the star on top— like everything was just a touch less magical without you.
Haechan realises he's been thinking for a while, a suspiciously long while. And only now did he realise just how empty the house seemed, too quiet for your family, that somewhere along the way had become his too, to not be around.
“How come you're alone?”
“I was napping” You smiled meekly “and they left to check out the Christmas markets in the town over.”
Haechan nodded. You'd give up anything for your naps so he didn't find himself surprised, just strangely chirpy knowing you hadn't changed since the last he saw you. Which really wasn't so long ago, but still enough for the awkwardness to resettle between you.
“I don't suppose they'll be back any time soon,” he says, not even waiting for you to agree, “so it's just you and me.”
He tries his hardest not to let on just how much he's losing his mind, but God it's hard when you're smirking up at him like that.
Mark would probably kill him if he ever found out just how badly he wants to wipe the smug expression right off your lips. Haechan’s sure it violates some sort of bro-code, wanting to kiss your best friend's little sister, but then again Mark wasn't here to stop him.
“Didn't think my company was that bad.”
Maybe he had tried a little too hard.
You expect some smart response, maybe a little teasing, but instead, Haechan pulls you back up off the couch you'd just sunk back down on.
"Let’s go” Haechan glances up at you with a mischievous smile.
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Go? Where?"
"You'll see,” he shrugs, “unless you'd rather stay home”
Haechan was always full of surprises, and you couldn't fight back your smile. “As long as you're not planning to kill me.”
His eyes sparkled with excitement, and you couldn't help but laugh as he practically dragged you out the door. Not before making sure you were warm by forcibly tying a scarf around your neck though. It was sweet really.
It was snowing lightly outside, the ground covered in a soft blanket of white.
Haechan had firmly clasped his hand in yours, your breath creating little clouds in the frosty air. The tip of your nose was slowly blushing a light pink, your eyes growing glossy from the cold, the oversized scarf almost swallowing you whole. To make matters worse, you were practically waddling over the snow, taking cautious steps so as not to fall, and Haechan couldn't help but find it so incredibly cute.
The town was alive with holiday spirit — the streetlights twinkled, shop windows were adorned with festive displays, and the sound of Christmas carols filled the air. Your eyes wandered the streets, but his were stuck firmly on you.
Finally, after a short walk, you arrived at a quaint little ice skating rink tucked away in the corner of the park. It was charming, with those adorably tacky lights strung along the perimeter and a big, sparkling Christmas tree in the center. The rink was surprisingly quiet for a holiday evening, you almost preferred it that way.
Haechan grinned, already pulling you toward the ticket booth. "I thought we could try reviving an old tradition," he said, his eyes bright with excitement. "You up for it?"
You chuckled, suddenly realising just how much you missed this— his spontaneity, his joy, and that infectious energy of his. "You know I’m still terrible at ice skating, right?"
"I know," he teased, giving you a light nudge. "But that’s part of the fun."
You rolled your eyes playfully, following after him. After getting your skates, Haechan laced up his own and then did the same for you, his touch gentle as he tied your laces, his face soft with affection. Exactly like the old times.
“Ready?” he asked, standing up and offering you a hand.
For a moment you were sure you'd make a fool of yourself, fall face flat on the ice, or go flying across the rink. But as soon as you stepped onto the rink, Haechan’s hand reached out to hold yours.
“You know letting go of the railings might help a little” he chuckles, “trust me I won't let you fall.”
It was all so familiar, his constant encouragement, your consistent failure to skate for more than a metre before crashing into something.
Yet it still felt so different.
It wasn't until you crashed into someone that you heard Haechan's laughter echoing, watching you apologise with a doting grin on his face.
Maybe letting go of your hand wasn't the wisest idea.
"Don’t worry, just lean on me," he said, his voice soft and filled with affection.
And lean you did. You found yourself clinging to him more than you thought you would, but it felt natural. He made everything seem easier.
“Y'know, you really suck hyuck” You rolled your eyes at him.
He grinned, in true Haechan fashion, finding hilarity in your frustration, “Hey that rhymed.”
“How are you so good at everything?” You huff, almost crossing your arms before he stops you, steadying you as you were beginning to fall.
“See I can't even be bitter about it without needing your help”
He shrugged playfully. "That's the point."
You roll your eyes again, and you swear you watch Haechan’s eyes light up even more.
“Alright moody, why don’t we take a breather?” He laughs lightly, steering you toward the edge of the rink with a teasing smile.
Haechan wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close as the snow continued to fall gently around you. The city lights flickered in the distance, and sure you still couldn't ice skate to save your life, but in that moment, your heart swelled with warm content.
"This is perfect," you murmured, leaning your head against his shoulder.
"I’m glad you think so," Haechan replied softly, his voice just a little breathless.
He tilted his head, and for a moment, you thought he might say something more. But then, instead of speaking, he leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead. The gesture was simple but full of meaning.
"Can I ask you something?" he said, pulling back slightly to look at you, his eyes bright.
"Anything," you replied, heart racing a little.
He began with a playful grin, pointing upwards, where a small sprig of mistletoe hung above you, "How about we start a new Christmas tradition? Every year, just you and me."
Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t an official proposal or anything, but the sentiment felt just as deep. Haechan, always so carefree, was suggesting something that made you feel warm inside.
Without hesitating, you nodded. "How could I say no?"
And then, without another word, Haechan leaned in, kissing you gently under the mistletoe.
When you pulled away, you both smiled content, knowing that this was just the beginning of many more Christmases together. You'd always spent Christmas together, but perhaps this moment had redefined just what that meant.
“You know,” he whispered, his lips curling into a playful grin, “this is definitely going to be my favorite Christmas tradition.”
You couldn’t agree more.
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