#somehow not QUITE developed enough... almost though
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s7e5 was so disappointing to me bc they completely sidelined morty and acted like there's some stark difference between morty and evil morty as if the whole conceit of EM isn't that he is literally just morty.
at his point of origin EM is not smarter, he's not crueler, he's not better, he's not worse, he's just c137 with about 20% less patience. EM has more knowledge because he HAD to learn as much as rick to finally overcome him, but overcoming rick was the impetus, and if c137 had that same drive, it would be completely possible. c137 has manipulated rick in exactly the same way that we see EM doing to his rick in the opening. c137 is just as smart and bitchy and fed up. he's just as good at fighting and flying the ship. morty c137 has not been the bumbling sidekick for many seasons, so why put him in that position now? just to make evil morty look way cooler than he is?
not to mention it's so out of character for morty not to read the fucking room at the end of the episode. morty canonically can dissect rick very well, so why is he acting cheery and ignorant now? it's not like the two of them to be so out of sync, not anymore. it was just so repellent to me... dragging my boy through the mud just to put evil morty on a pedestal... just to act like they aren't the same person at their core.
#rick and morty#evil morty#morty smith#morty c-137#rick prime#this whole season barely barely had rick and morty interact and im SICK!!!! sick of it!! all for rick's growth....#the finale finally addressed morty but there's a lot to say about That too....#indubitably an incredible piece of television and storytelling and animation but its place in morty's arc feels somehow lackluster#somehow not QUITE developed enough... almost though#and again there was a lot of potential w morty and EM interacting but we just didnt get it.!!!! maybe next season#unmortricken#route66.txt
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Sanemi lashing out on his pregnant wife only to beg her for forgiveness later
Pairing: Sanemi x pregnant!reader
Word Count: 3,1k
Synopsis: Like every week, you find yourself on your way back from Shinobu's estate and your pregnancy check-up. Little did you know what horror awaits you at your own home with your husband almost killing two kids...
Warnings: Sanemi is mean in this one and I mean it, extreme hurt but also comfort in the end so don't worry, full Shinazugawa package regarding language and violence lol, not proofread because I have to leave now
Thank you sooo much for that cool request @itsmscoco and I'm sorry it took a while. I really hope you like what I came up with đ¤
You rub your minor belly. For a woman, a pregnancy should feel like a trip to heaven. After all, you are blessed with developing a child that is half you and half your husband. Oh, your beloved and surprisingly gentle husband who always makes sure that you get enough sleep, that you nutrition yourself properly. But even the wind hashira canât do a single thing against your constant sickness and pain.
âPlease try this out, (y/n). Donât hesitate to come here again if you need something else. You really have an unfortunate pregnancy when it comes to nauseaâ, Shinobu comments gently while giving your belly a little massage.
âDonât get me wrong, I am so excited about the honor of caring for a child in my own body. But honestly, Iâm so glad when this pregnancy is overâ, you huff while taking a deep breath in.
Please, donât vomit all over the insect pillar whoâs just trying to help. Youâve been here what feels like everyday since finding out youâre pregnant. Well, to be exact, Shinobu is the one who suggested that you might expect a child.
Because of your never-ending sickness.
âOh, thereâs nothing to get wrong at all! After all, your pregnancy is a rather difficult one. But Iâm sure Shinazugawa is taking good care of you!â
âHe definitely does. My husband is an angelâ, you reply in an instant.
You canât wait to go back home. Even though your sleep-drunken eyes wonât be able to stay open longer than maybe a few hours, even though you werenât able to catch a proper glimpse at Sanemiâs part in the on-going hashira training until now, you canât wait to go back home. Back into your estate, back into the arms of your beloved husband.
âNot quite the codename Iâd use for him, but thatâs just what love does, right? I will send a kakushi along with you. Otherwise, Shinazugawa might show up and threaten meâ, Shinobu jokes while helping you to get up.
âThank you for your help. Again.â
You pull the insect hashira into a deep hug. How lucky you should consider yourself for the opportunity to call Shinobu your friend, that Sanemi laid his eyes on you. Out of all the countless women around, the ones with faces like porcelain and bodies so well-formed you canât hold a candle against every single one of them. But still, he chose you.
âCome on, (y/n). Why are you crying?â, Shinobo whispers into your ear while rubbing small circles onto your back.
âIâm just a little overwhelmed from everything I guessâ, you mumble against her comforting shoulder.
Just a few months ago, you would have laughed at anyone who told you that your life would turn out like this. Of course, youâve lost countless good friends and family members on the way and living with a suborn husband like Sanemi isnât always easy. But somehow, the two of you always make it work.
Right?
-at the wind hashira estate-
âWe are almost there. Are you feeling alright?â
âOh, donât worry about me. Iâm just a little tired from walking, thatâs all!â
Truth is, your feet hurt like hell. Shinobu reported about women who donât even feel their baby until the second trimester. Why are your feet already swollen, your belly bloated, your guts constantly turning? And thereâs still so much ahead.
âLooks like Shinazugawa-sama received a new bunch of trainees after the other corps members all landed in Kocho-samaâs hospital wingâ, the kakushi next to you comments dryly.
âWas it really that bad?â
Of course you heard about the rather brutal training methods of your husband. After all, even the walls of his estate arenât thick enough to stop every single scream from reaching your ears. But stillâŚ
âIt was pretty bad. Some of the-â
Glass cracking. Screams from afar. Out of instinct, you pick up your pace until you dash towards your home, sweat now dripping from every pore. What happened? Is Sanemi alright? He wouldnât leash out on one of his students like that. Something must have happened. A demon? No, itâs still daytime. But what is it?
âHeâs back! Heâs back! That cold-blooded man! Lie down and pretend that youâve fainted!â, a blonde-haired boy screams while almost collapsing onto the floor.
âWhat are you talking about? Whatâs going on here?â, you press out.
Your lungs threaten to fail you, breath already tasting like pure iron.
Until your eyes find Genya.
Your guts twist and turn in every direction, almost force you to vomit all over the place. Genya shouldnât be here. Out of all people, it shouldnât be him. And whoâs the boy next to him. That familiar scar, youâve seen that boy before. Is it possible thatâŚ
âKamado Tanjiroâ, you breathe out.
Maybe that is even worse.
Your eyes dart around the area without an aim. Whereâs Sanemi? Did he find them already? They need to leave before he finds out that theyâre here, carry on with another hashira training.
âPlease stop now!â, Tanjiro suddenly shouts while stretching out his arm in defence.
An uneasy feeling crawls up your spine, the dark claws of sickening foreshadowing. All you can do is standing death still right where you are and watch in sheer horror as your husband stomps out of your estate motion.
Is that your husband you love and adore, though? You know how untamed he can get especially when getting confronted with his painful past. It was never easy for him to see Genya join the demon slayer corps or realize that his mother could have been saved like Tanjiroâs sister.
But never in your entire life have you seen him like this. The empty shell of your husband, muscles tensed to the maximum and his empty orbs directed towards the two boys in front of him.
In this very moment, youâd trust him to actually kill them.
âWhat are you going to do? Are you planning to kill Genya?â, Tanjiro continues passionately.
Your glossy orbs are set on your husband. Would he really do something like that? What if you witness the father of your unborn child taking the life of two other human beings? Your heart canât take it, knees threaten to fail you.
âHell no, Iâm not going to kill him. It would be easy enough to kill him, but since itâs against the rules and allâŚIâm going to ruin him beyond recovery!â
Until your blurry head finally makes a decision and allows your feet to run.
Straight towards the two boys.
Straight into the firing line.
Straight into the sight of your now maniac husband.
âYou wonât do any of these things, you hear me?â, you jeer at him with your new-found courage.
â(y/n)â, Genya breathes behind you.
âHow dare you to talk to innocent children like that, Sanemi?â
The man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, hands clenched into tight fists while taking a step towards you.
âGet lost. Right nowâ, he hisses through gritted teeth.
You swallow hard, all nerves now tingling in sheer horror. This is the first and last warning, without any doubt. The look on his stone-cold face tells you more than urgently that Sanemi isnât playing, that he doesnât want you here.
Maybe itâs best if you go back inside and pretend that nothing happened. He himself said that he wonât kill them, after allâŚ
âIâm not leavingâ, you bite back.
But that would mean leaving Genya alone. That would mean giving up all of your principles.
âWill you act out like this towards our child as well?â, you continue while growing bigger and bigger in front of the two boys.
He might be your husband, the love of your life. That doesnât mean youâll always have to do what he tells you, tough. Instinctively, you clench your hands into tight fists with your glossy eyes almost piercing through him. Enough is enough.
âIf our child acts as dumb as you do, I sure as hell will!â
Oh.
Your heart drops to the floor when a nauseous wave of agony hits you with full force. Sanemi is and has always been a hot-headed man who never thought twice about the things he said. But never, not even once in your entire relationship he insulted you.
Until now.
âIs this really how you feel about me? We should support each other, you should listen to me as well as-â
âSpare me with that bullshit, (y/n)â, Sanemi spits at you.
âGet.out.of.the.way. Canât you hear me?â
Itâs like you stop living for a moment. All this time, you did your best to understand him and his grief. Everything Sanemi does comes with a logical reason behind it, even though itâs hard to see from time to time. But lashing out at you like that?
âStop being so disrespectful to me right now. I am your wife-â
âRight now, youâre my problemâ, he jeers back.
âAnd now get off my sight and let me finish this real quick-â
You donât know what made you act the way you just did. Was it his cruel behaviour, the way his words cut through your heart like a thousand knives? Before your husband is even able to finish his sentence, your palm races towards his cheek with full force.
The world around you goes silent, frightful gazes glued onto you while you canât stop your tears from falling anymore.
âIs this how youâre acting around your pregnant wife by now, how youâll treat innocent children? If thatâs the live you chose, Iâm not a part of it anymoreâ, you hiss through gritted teeth.
Suddenly, the urge to get as far away from him as possible becomes unbearable. Your feet start sprinting towards the estate on your own, carry you into your now so empty-feeling bedroom.
And finally, you allow yourself to break down and cry.
Is this really the man you love, that youâd give your life for? Your shaky fingers caress your belly mindlessly.
You canât stay here. Not when Sanemi showed you a completely different face today. Not when this place doesnât feel like home anymore.
-a few hours later-
âFuck!â, Sanemi cries out on top of his lungs while dashing towards Obanai over and over.
Why canât he get your stupid words out of his mind? The way you stood there with tears in your eyes, how he was literally able to hear your heart crack when those damned words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, to drag you into the fuckery with his little brother and that Kamado boy.
But why did he say all those dumb things, then?
âYou seem off, Shinazugawaâ, Obanai comments dryly, hitting the wind hashira with full force again.
âI guess I fucked upâ, Sanemi mumbles.
What if you wonât forgive him for today? Your last words haunt him since the moment you left him standing in the rain.
âI bet you can talk your way out of it-â
âHell nah. I donât think she wants to see me tonight.â
âDid you ask her, though?â
âWho the hell do you think you are anyway? Youâre the one to talk, not able to confess your feelings to Mitsuriâ, Sanemi barks at the man next to him.
âBut yeah, maybe I should get goingâŚâ
Coming home never fuelled him with so much fright. What if youâre still angry at him, if you refuse to even talk to him? Or even worse, what if youâll really leave him?
Sanemiâs guts turn in an instant, feet now picking up their pace with every step. He canât lose you. Not you, the light of his life. Not when you are the only ray of sunshine in this rotting hell. What the hell did he do? The fact that he even raised his voice at you is unforgivable.
Finally, his fingers grab the door that leads to your shared bedroom, finally heâs able to make up for his mistakes of today-
His eyes widen in sheer horror.
Youâre gone.
Right there where your head should rest, thereâs absolutely nothing.
Panic starts rising up his chest, forces his heart down his throat.
Did you leave?
He yanks out of your shared room, eyes roaming around each and every corner of your estate. But you arenât there. You arenât here.
âMy lady is at the love hashiraâs estate.â
Sanemi darts up immediately, greeted by the oh so familiar voice of your personal crow.
âIs she fine, why did she-â
âWith all due respect, I suggest you to control yourself before making any more insensitive comments to my lady-â
âWho the hell do you even think you are you-â
âYour earlier spoken words really troubled her and my lady certainly does not deserve that.â
Without another word, your crow disappears into the darkness of night again.
Sanemi swallows hard. Fuck, did he really hurt you that badly? He never wanted you to feel bad, never wanted to hurt you. Damn, he only wanted to show Genya and that Kamado boy their places. It shouldnât have hit you. Out of all people, why did he have to hurt you?
âI need to tell herâ, he mumbles under his breath before dashing towards the love hashira estate.
-at Mitsuriâs-
âI canât believe Shinazugawa said something like this to you, (y/n)! You are super far away from being dumb, after all! Here, eat another pancake and stay as long as you want.â, Mitsuri babbles while handing you another plate.
Your dry eyes are barely able to stay open any longer. All the grief, explaining, fighting and crying did apparently really wear you out. Good for you Mitsuriâs estate is near by and you just know sheâll always open her arms for you.
âThank you so much for taking me in, Kanroji. I really donât deserve your kindnessâ, you sniffle.
âYou have to be joking, (y/n)! Itâs my duty as your friend to be there for you anytime you need me! And also, I-â
Three violent knocks on Mitsuriâs wooden door almost send you over the edge. Itâs past after midnight, the time closer to the morning than evening. Who would knock on Mitsuriâs door this late at night?
âDo you think thatâs a demon?â, you mutter in horror, both pairs of eyes set on the door.
âI donât think so. Letâs see!â
Before youâre able to stop Mitsuri, she rips open the door.
And reveals no other than your husband.
âSanemiâ, you breathe out.
Tears start swelling up your eyes in an instant when a flood of memories crushes you all over again. Just a few hours ago, your husband made very clear that he doesnât want to see you again anytime soon. How did he find out that youâre here?
â(y/n), can weâŚhave a talk?â, he mumbles with icy voice.
âDo you want to leave me?â, you blurt out.
âWhat?â
Is that really how you feel, what you think of him? That heâll turn his back on you after a fight? He did say all those nasty things to you, though.
âI think Iâm going out andâŚcook!â, Mitsuri announces while sprinting out of the door, leaving you alone in the room with all that tension and him.
Him, the man you love more than anything else in this world. And also him, who broke your heart like he never did before.
âYou have to be kidding meâ, Sanemi mutters under his breath.
You turn away before you lose your composure completely.
âWhy are you here, Sanemi?â
âDo you really think Iâm here to dump you!? You, my pregnant wife!? You canât be fucking serious about that!â
In the matter of seconds, you find yourself surrounded by his usual so comforting arms that now hurt like daggers against your skin.
âPlease, let me go, I canât do this ri-â
â(y/n), please.â
His suffocated voice forces your eyes to dart upwards.
Instantly, your heart drops to the floor.
Is this really your husband, crying against your shoulder while pressing your body against his?
âIâm sorry for all the shit Iâve said, Iâm sorry for making you feel this way. Iâd never leave you, not when Iâm even lucky for calling you mine. I shouldnât have dragged you into this, I justâŚI just canât stand themâŚâ
âSanemiâŚâ
âAnd I get that I donât deserve you and that Iâm a jerk for hurting you. I know you couldâve had every man you wanted-â
âSanemi!â, you snap at him, holding onto his face tightly.
âBut youâre the one I wantâ, you finally cry out.
âBut your words hurt me. Is this really how you feel about me? Do you really think Iâm a burden?â
âI was out of my fucking mind for saying that to you! Youâre my blessing, my everything, the sunshine in this rotting hell. YouâreâŚYouâre my wife, right?â
That innocent look on his now tear-soaked face runs shivers down your spine, reminds you that even though he acted out today, this man is still the Sanemi Shinazugawa you fell in love with years ago.
âI am your wifeâ, you press out before a new wave of tears haunts you down.
âIâm so sorry, (y/n). So so sorryâ, he mutters again and again while kissing every tear away that escapes your eyes.
âAnd Iâll never talk to you like that again, I promise.â
âWill you promise to not treat Tanjiro and Genya like that ever again too?â
Sanemi shifts his weight underneath you, his orbs growing hard again. Was this too much to ask for? No. Even though you love Sanemiâs rough side as well, he simply canât do something like this again. Not when youâre his wife, not when you are expecting his first very own child.
âI will. But only if these jerks leave me aloneâ, he grumbles before giving you a passionate kiss.
âThat might be manageable. I want to go home nowâŚâ
âNo problem, Iâll carry you-â
âYou really donât have to carry me-â
âOh, but I sure as hell will.â
âHAVE A GOOD NIGHT YOU TWO! AND DONâT ACT LIKE A JERK AGAIN, SHINAZUGAWA!â
âDid you have to tell her everything?â
âSheâs my friend, Sanemi. Of course I had to.â
Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
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#readers crow is my spirit animal#kny#kny x reader#hashira training arc#kny x you#kny x y/n#kny angst to fluff#kny angst#kny fanfic#demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#kimetsu x you#kimetsu sanemi#demon slayer x y/n#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer x you#demon slayer x female reader#demon slayer sanemi#sanemi shinaguzawa#sanemi x reader#sanemi x you#sanemi shinazugawa#sanemi headcanons#sanemi angst#sanemi fluff
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A Changed Future (1): Yandere IsekaiÂ
When you woke after an especially tiresome day the last thing youâd expect was to reawake in a room that looked nothing like your own
The house, the neighborhood, your job everything was not your own
Instead, itâs resembling a webtoon you remember seeing the marketing, edits, and spoilers for
And if it was all adding up right youâd find the horrifying truth behind the controversial protagonist of the story would be incredibly true
âLook Iâm sorry I yelledâŚI love youâŚIâm really hungry. Can I eat today?â
The beautiful and practically perfect protagonist was the one who trapped their love interest inside theirânow your basement
Chained to the floor on a chair in the dark with unfinished surroundings was the poor victim of the yandere protagonist
Haruko, is an average guy who previously caught the protagonistâs attention by standing up to one an influential pair of elitists in defense of their crush but thatâs hearsay
In the former protagonist's atmosphere the children of the rich were victims to their familyâs whims often protecting their wealth rather than their children
Which caused Haruko to defend his friend from their overbearing parents
That is when the protagonist suddenly fell deeply in love with the average fellowÂ
Obsessively stalking him and eliminating their rivals by any means necessary
finally snatching their love and running to a small little home where they planned to have their dreamy lifeÂ
Of course, after breaking his spirit and having Haruko develop some kind of stockholm syndrome
To find that youâve been isekaiâd is jarringÂ
But being a protagonist that had the internet raving for years about how unhealthy they were is awful
But it was nothing when you were standing at the top of the stairs and watching the malnourished man call out to you
âYeahâŚ.sure.â
Naturally you calm down, enough to make the poor guy something to eat and drink
Excusing yourself to have a breakdown in the bathroom before coming up with a plan to fix it all
âY-youâre letting me go?â
âYes, I wonât stop if you want to go to the policeâŚbut Iâd really appreciate it if you didnât.â
You felt so selfishÂ
But you werenât the one who imprisoned him
Now that you were though you were going to turn a new leaf
After feeding him, clothing him, and giving him a hefty sum from the protagonists savingsÂ
You go to their place of work where theyâre in line for a promotion
âI quit.â
âE-excuse me (L/n)?! But your about to become the vice president of the company!?â
âI know. Sorry?â
You almost feel bad turning down the CEO who visits to try and reason with you
In your opinion, the protagonist didnât deserve any of their success
They technically didnât need it because they were stacked
Same could be said for the detective thats been constantly asking the protagonist questions
âYou are actually agreeing to talk with me?â
âYeah.â
âDid you hit your head?!â
With the knowledge from spoilers and ads youâd seen, you knew that the worst part of this story is that the protagonist is doing just fine while Haruka continues to struggle with his captivity and manufactured feelings
You want to do this right, whether you were meant to live in this world from now on or would one day return to your own
But in the meantime youâd do what you felt was rightÂ
Turning their lifeânow your life around to somehow try to condone for all the crimes theyâve done
Unfortunately, though things donât seem to want to go your way
âPlease Please take me back!âÂ
âWhat?â
âYou heard me! You were right youâre the only one who loves me! I love you! Please! Please! Take me back in your basement!â
âOkay?â
It seems that once you released the poor guy he returned to society
Expecting to be welcomed by his friends and family upon being missing for years
Who instead had moved on or had benefitted from him being declared dead
He tried to go back to working but he couldnât get you out of his head
Not the one that ranted about adoring him and the one that would go days without feeding him
But the one that cried when you saw his skin bruising in his chains
The one that fed him a hot mealÂ
The one that helped him relearn to use his weakened legs
The one that keeps apologizing for every little thing you do
Thatâs the you, he likes
And heâd much prefer he turn back to being a victim trapped in your basement if it meant having you back in his life
âI donât mind if you stay here if you need but Iâm not keeping you trapped here. I wonât do it anymore.â
He cries and bangs his hands on the floor when you officially tell him
But heâll take you up on your offer to move in with you
âGood morning (Y/n)! Since you quit your job youâre getting up so much later now. Youâve got to be careful waking too late.â
âUhm how do you know I quit my job?â
âUnless you're locking me in the basement you donât need to know!~â
Heâs like a weird roommate who occasionally asks that you restrain him in some way
Purposefully rummaging in your storage to find ropes that you havenât thrown away yet or buying them himself and leaving them out
âOoops~! I did leave a chain out while cleaning! Iâm so bad, being so careless even though youâve been so against it. I should be punished! I know, you should tie me up! Right? Right? Right?â
Heâs going insane everytime you refuse his demands to be locked away
Youâre even sweeter now that heâs not locked away and thatâs not helping
Heâll ultimately decide he should try it
âHey (Y/n)?â
âYes?â
âYou still feel guilty about what you did to me right?â
â...Yes.â
âThen how about you do something for me? To make up for it?â
Even if you know youâve done nothing wrongÂ
The guilt doesnât stop you
Letting him lock you in the basement as he repeats some of the same punishments he remembers
Or rather tries to
âI just canât seem to stand being away from you for a day, let alone not feed you then. I have no idea how you did it.â
You couldnât be sure either
Which is why you donât protest as his actions tend to get a bit moreâŚwild
âLike you suggested I did try going for that new job again.â
âUh thatâs good.â
âI know since youâve left they seem to be desperately searching for extra hands. Iâd feel bad for them if you werenât with me!â
âRightâŚâ
âBut being away from you all day is killing me! Maybe I should look for a more remote position.â
He treats you better than the former protagonist didÂ
Quickly moving you up to your old room and just chaining you there
But he wants more from youÂ
More Kisses
More CuddlesÂ
More RomanceÂ
More Touching
More Quality time
He takes up so much of it, that the same problems that happened in the webtoon were happening again
Except this time it was related to you
âIâm Revmere the CEO of the Revere Co. Iâm wondering is (Y/n) home? Iâve been trying to reach them by phone but it hasnât been going through.â
âAnd Iâm Detective Cape. Thomas Cape, I also need to speak with (Y/n) and you too if thatâs alright Haruko.â
Part 2: Coming Soon
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#yandere harem#yandere isekai#yandere isekai ocs#yandere original character#yandere original characters#yandere victim#yandere victim oc#yandere detective oc#yandere detective#yandere ceo#yandere ceo oc#yandere ocs#yandere ocs x reader#yandere oc#yandere headcanons#yandere oc x you#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc x y/n#yandere changed future
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Quincy
Since we first became roommates, Quincy's transformation over the years had been quite spectacular. When we had first started college and been randomly assigned together, I had not thought anything of him. Quincy was not special, just a lanky ginger from the next state over. But I soon came face to face with the tale-as-old-as-time book cover expression, as his first impressions have meant little over the years we have spent together. Now in our mid-twenties, it was fair to say that the only part of Quincy that was still that lanky freshman I met was the bright red hair.
Quincy had come in as a socially-awkward bookworm, an accounting major who aspired to join his fatherâs practice after graduation. He was smart, soft spoken, and lean, which I soon learned was because he had been a decent swimmer in high school. But over every winter and summer break, Quincy came back to campus looking just a little bit different, and eventually acting a bit different too.
It started that second semester of freshman year, when I entered the dorm after a rough baseball practice. The team had been forced to stay nearby over the holidays, so I had not seen Quincy in almost a month. When I walked through the door all sweaty and gross, I had not expected for Quincy to be there.
âQuincy?â I smiled, being friendly. âYouâre back already?â
âYeah, I uhâŚhad a project to finish with Sam, you know the basketball player from down the hall?â Quincy replied, shifting awkwardly a bit. It was strange, but it almost appeared like he had grown an inch in our time apart, but his fidgeting prevented me from truly discerning this difference. âYou can ask him, if you donât believe me...â
Sensing the nervousness, I put one of my best traits to work. âNah bro, I was just surprised. Glad to see you back though.â It was a strong suit of mine, controlling the room without appearing like it. I was confident and casual, something that made others like and respect me. âIâm gonna be leaving in a bit though, I got a date with Kenzie tonight. Weâll have to catch up later.â
In the hallway on my way out, Sam caught me to say hello. I had not recognized him at first, the coppery color of his hair a stark difference from his once raven black. I assumed it had been a bad dye job as a result of initiation hazing from his teammates. Our conversation was quick, but long enough for me to notice that our eye levels met. I could have sworn he was taller than me.
The second semester flew and by the time we considered sophomore year, Quincy and I agreed to room with each other. The next time I saw him, it appeared he had taken an interest in weightlifting. I applauded him for his efforts, asking how he had packed a good amount of muscle in a short time. He said that Vance, one of my baseball teammates, had been at the same gym as him and the two became fast buddies. I felt bad breaking the unfortunate news that Vance was no longer on the team, stating that he was taking a break for âstrength conditioning.â I had not seen him since he tendered his resignation, his fiery hair drawing my attention more than his prepared remarks. Quincy appeared unaffected by my announcement.
Winter break, another summer break, junior year, and senior year all flew by, and Quincy continued to grow. Somehow, he became jacked, like really jacked. He gained bulging biceps and triceps that had taken me twice as long to develop, quads and calves that put mine to shame. He also got more attractive, something that I hated to admit. His abs, which had popped up out of nowhere, had become the talk of the campus, and by our last semester, his face had appeared to be carved by Greek gods. more visible than ever. He had practically become a sensation overnight: not too big and intimidating, but not to shrimpy and unnoticeable. Yet at heart, Quincy was still the same accounting nerd, and I was actually happy for him, until he started stealing my hookups.Â
In all honesty, I was probably just jealous of his incredible growth. And the fact that he constantly had girls and guys (to my surprise, but I had no problem with it) working his monster-sized cockâthe size assumed by the noises from his room. But I kept my cool, and when he asked if I would consider continuing our living situation, I obliged. More time passed, and I watched him become quite the alpha male. At a certain point, it felt like everyone in the city knew Quincy. And strangely unrelated, at a certain point, it felt like everyone who Quincy brought home was a redhead too, or at least the ones I saw leaving the next morning.Â
âGod, he is such a pathetic dick,â Quincy groaned, changing into a more casual fit after having come home from a rough day at work. I was perched on the side of his bed, my muscles still sore from the two hours I had just blown at the gym.
âIt wasnât Marco again, was it?â I asked casually, referencing the twink who had recently been avoiding Quincyâs advances.
âI just donât get it, what else could he want from me?â Quincy flaunted his body. âEverybody wanted me; Iâve got everything he could want!â
âBro, he probably knows that you're hot,â I remarked. âIf I were you, and Marco was like Marcie or something, Iâd just be cool about it, and after a bit act like you're indifferent. Make him miss the attention, and soon heâll rush out and profess his feelings or whatever. If you hold a stronger resolution, rather than flaunting it, he will do all the work and come to you.â
Quincy considered this for a moment, but then another idea appeared to flick through his head. âYeahâŚbut, it could also just be easier toâŚâ
In a flash, he grabbed my head and I dazed out in front of him. It felt like something was being absorbed out of me, but I assumed my energy had just been spent. After about a minute, I came back to full consciousness. I realized I had fallen back into Quincy's bed during my dizzy spell.Â
âThanks for sharing, man,â Quincy sneered, crawling forward on top of me. âYou were right about that whole resolution thing. I feel like I can stay assertive and collected enough to lure Marco in now.â
I tried to question what Quincy had meant by that. Why would such a cool, confident guy like Quincy ever want to take advice on how to be nonchalant from me? After all, I had always been quite the nervous wreck; in fact Quincy had been the one who had helped me get rid of my stutter freshman year. But before I could consider the thought further, Quincyâs hands pulled my jeans down, and then my legs up and over my head. Unable to voice a word or protest, I let him.
âWhy donât you show me how Marco will react after I lure him in?â Quincy smirked. I gulped weakly, his strong resolution overwhelming and obliterating my own.
âYes, thatâs it,â Quincy grinded his hard member against my bottom. âI shouldâve done this a long time ago, I always knew youâd look better as a ginger.â
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disciple luo binghe, running errands for his shizun one day, somehow manages to be in the exact wrong (right) place at the exact wrong (right) time and catches shang qinghua meeting with mobei jun
in order to keep luo binghe from tattling right away, shang qinghua dissembles in a panic and claims that his clandestine meetings with mobei jun are happening because they're lovers and definitely not because shang qinghua is betraying the sect and handing their secrets over to demons in order to save his own hide. when that almost doesn't work, he also tells luo binghe that he knows he's part demon, and that if luo binghe rats him out then shang qinghua will take him down with him. mutually assured destruction
it works, and even though luo binghe threatens him quite a bit (jeez kid calm down, you might be the almighty protagonist but also you're like sixteen) he agrees to keep shang qinghua's fraternizing a secret. but if ANYTHING BAD should happen to the sect or especially to luo binghe's shizun because of this, luo binghe will take shang qinghua down even if it does ruin his life too
shang qinghua, now sweating even more bullets about the impending immortal alliance conference: cool! cool cool cool sounds great cool yeah
so shang qinghua can add "being blackmailed by the punk ass brat I sort of created" to his list of stress-inducing woes. which gets even worse when luo binghe keeps somehow sensing if mobei jun is around for more than a couple hours and showing up, and picking fights with him?? kind of??
wtf has the protagonist been taking tips from liu qingge or something...?
shang qinghua feels like he's gonna have a heart attack when mobei jun just snorts and tosses luo binghe by the scruff like he's an annoying yappy dog
mobei jun actually knows what's up though. teenage half-demon who has never been around his own kind has become spoiled by the lack of competition on this front, and now his hackles are all up because he wants to claim the whole mountain range as his territory, and his instincts are screaming at him to challenge mobei jun about it so that they can decide who is actually top dog. since mobei jun could easily kill him, especially with his blood sealed, and has been clawing rocks and pissing on trees along the borders of an ding peak since before luo binghe was born, he's clearly got seniority here
and since qinghua doesn't want mobei jun to just kill the little shit (fair enough -- that sealed bloodline does look kind of interesting) that means it's up to mobei jun to teach him how to do things like interact with other demons without making a complete fool of himself. lesson one: what to do when you challenge someone out of your league and they win, assuming they don't just kill you
so luo binghe reluctantly gains another demon tutor
meng mo actually approves. he's been out of the loop on demon high society for a long time, and has lacked a body for long enough too that he's forgotten a lot of the particulars of socializing. it'll be good for luo binghe to pick up some manners that aren't just silly human tea ceremonies and things. maybe he'll start addressing meng mo more respectfully for a change!
(lol no)
luo binghe is partly like "I don't need to learn demon social skills since I'm spending the rest of my life as a disciple of qing jing peak" but partly like, well, if shizun knew about this and didn't freak out about it, he'd probably say that knowledge is power and learning how to handle politics and diplomacy of all kinds is important. and despite himself luo binghe is also interested, because this is a whole perspective on his own nature that he's never really gotten advice about
also, mobei jun is the lover of shang qinghua? mobei jun is a demon who successfully seduced a cang qiong peak lord? does he have any advice about that?
(he does -- all of it very bad)
anyway all of this sort of fucks up the immortal alliance conference developments really good, so the system kind of gives up and settles on some other big transformative achievements that luo binghe has to complete in order to be suitably heroic
but shen qingqiu has no idea and so the reprieve just seems to come out of nowhere until several years later, when he walks in on luo binghe with his claws out and huadian gleaming in the company the demon king of the northern desert, the two of them playing weiqi or something while they wait for shang qinghua to get back from some random logistics crisis he had to rush off to
shen qingqiu: ...?!?
luo binghe, panicking: wait shizun I can explain it's not what it looks like SHIZUN I SWEAR I WAS GOING TO TELL YOU PLEASE DON'T BE MAD--!
shen qingqiu: all this time I thought you were sneaking out to meet a girl, and this was what you were doing instead?!
luo binghe: WHAT?? shizun no I'd never do that I swear I don't even like girls!
shen qingqiu: that's not -- wait what do you mean you don't even like girls?!
mobei jun, unperturbed and still focused on the weiqi board: he's gay
#svsss#scum villain's self saving system#bingqiu#moshang#most anticlimactic reveal of all time#luo binghe had several plans for how to do it but he kept chickening out at the last minute#so now he's gonna get all his secrets randomly outed by a bored mobei jun who is mad at losing a board game#while sqq's brain keeps stopping and restarting trying to figure out what to freak out about first#lbh: it's the demon thing oh no he's upset about the demon thing#sqq: already knew the demon thing and is circling the drain around 'gay' and 'mobei jun is here' instead#sqq: wait is the girl he's been meeting MOBEI JUN???
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Infatuated âËđâ đđđđđđ˘đ đŚ
yandere!bnha x reader
yandere, reverse harem, bnha x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere
Your Quirk is rather unique. It plays out almost like a game, giving you missions and goals that help you become stronger. On top of that, you also have the ability to charm those around you. It sounds innocent enough on paper, and you canât help but revel in the attention everyone keeps showering you with. But what happens when their feelings give way to something more sinister?
prologue | story masterlist | next
After what just happened, it feels like you have to tell your parents about it. Â
âMom, dad,â you say. âI think I just got my Quirk.â Â
They react by smiling brightly. âOh, thatâs lovely, sweetie. What kind of Quirk is it?â Â
Now comes the hard part. Since even you barely know how your powers work, explaining it to them will be a nearly impossible feat. Â
You furrow your brows. âUm... itâs kind of weird. Out of nowhere, I started seeing this screen with different stuff written all over it. Nobody else can see it, though, so thatâs why I think it might be my Quirk.â Â
Out of fear of getting in trouble, you decide not to tell them about the fact that Katsuki passed out after you used your ability on him. You already feel pretty guilty about it. For the time being, you just want to figure out how your Quirk actually works.
âA screen thatâs invisible to everyone but you?â Â
Your parents exchange confused glances. It makes sense that they don't quite understand, because under normal circumstances, Quirks are mostly hereditary. Children most often develop powers that are similar to those of their parents, or some combination of the two. But neither of your parents has a power like yours, which is why you were so perplexed when it first popped up. Â
âInteresting,â your mother hums. âAnd youâre sure itâs your Quirk? Itâs not just some game you like to play with your friends? Itâs important to know the difference between real life and pretend, honey.â Â
You nod vigorously. âIâm not making it up. I promise.â Â
â[Name]âs a good girl,â your father insists. âIf she says she isnât lying, then we should believe her. Quirks are mutations, at the end of the day. It might be unlikely, but itâs still possible for her to have powers different from ours. All that matters is that she finally has something to call her own. I remember being awfully excited when my Quirk first manifested. Itâs a big milestone, after all.â Â
âWell, I suppose thatâs true. Okay, then. In that case, we should celebrate,â your mother beams. âOur little girl finally has a Quirk! What would you like to do to commemorate the occasion, hm? Do you want us to order you some yummy food or take you shopping to buy something you like?â Â
Your parents love to spoil you, and since you are only a little kid, you certainly can't help but capitalize on the opportunity.Â
The day your Quirk manifests, your family treats you to a delicious meal and even buys you a little gift. You end up having so much fun that you briefly forget all about your initial goal, which is to try and decipher the specifics of your Quirk. You even forget about poor Katsuki, who is bedridden after suddenly fainting. Â
It isn't until later that same night that it all comes back to you, thanks to a sudden notification.Â
[đđđ đđđđđđđ: đđŽđđđđŹđŹđđŽđĽđĽđ˛ đđĄđđŤđŚ đŹđ¨đŚđđ¨đ§đ.]
Youâve just gotten into bed and are staring up at your bedroom ceiling when you see the message pop up. It showed up completely unprompted, just like last time. This has to be your Quirk. Nothing else would make any sense. Well, unless you're somehow trapped in an incredibly long dream, but that seems like a stretch.Â
âCharm someone,â you mumble. You have to admit that you're a little nervous. The last time you used your ability on a person, they passed out. Will the same thing happen again? Also, why is it calling this a mission? It almost seems to imply that there's some sort of reward to be had once you complete it. Â
There's really no way of knowingâother than actually trying it out, of course. Â
When morning rolls around, you head straight for Katsukiâs house and knock on his front door. Â
Mitsuki is the one to greet you. âOh, hi there,â she smiles. âYouâre one of Katsukiâs little friends, arenât you? Thank you for bringing him home the other day when he wasnât feeling well.â Â
âIâm [Name],â you say, trying not to look too guilty, since you're the whole reason Katsuki fainted in the first place. âIs Katsuki feeling better today?â Â
âHeâs perfectly fine. Iâm sure he was just tired and needed some rest. Heâs eating breakfast right now, but did you want to come inside and talk to him for a bit?â
After you respond with an affirmative nod, Mitsuki ushers you into the house. It's your first time actually being here. It still hasn't been very long since youâve moved into the neighborhood, and even though you often play with Katsuki and the rest of his friends, you have yet to visit any of their homes.Â
You find Katsuki sitting at the dining table, spooning some cereal into his mouth. You're pretty much always thrilled to see him. He is one of your role models, and you can only hope that you'll one day be as confident and fearless as he is. Â
So, naturally, you break out into a grin the second you spot him.Â
âKatsuki!â you cry out, practically rushing over to him. âGood morning!â Â
As much as you wish you could say that Katsuki responds with the same enthusiasm, that isn't at all the case. Â
Instead, he visibly recoils, cheeks darkening to a deep shade of red. Â
âWhy are you here?â he huffs, sounding a bit annoyed. âI already told you that I was fine yesterday. You didnât need to make such a fuss over nothing. And you even took me back to my parents? I wouldâve been back to normal if you gave me a few minutes. I was just taking a little nap, thatâs all.â Â
Your shoulders slump. âOh. Iâm sorry. I know youâre really strong, Katsuki, but you fainted so suddenly. I was so worried I almost started crying...â
He doesn't snap at you a second time. Instead, he spoons another helping of milk and cereal into his mouth, still blushing all the way up to his ears. He appears to be avoiding eye contact, and you suspect that it has something to do with the fact that you kissed him yesterday. Â
He doesn't seem to blame you for the fact that he passed out, though. No one really thinks you're responsible for that incident. They still don't even know that your Quirk has manifested. Â
A part of you wants to tell him, but that would be the same thing as admitting you made him fall ill the other day. So, for the time being, you decide to keep your mouth shut. You want answers first.Â
Katsukiâs glances at you out of the corner of his eye. âWhat do you keep staring at me for? Weirdo. Youâre being kind of annoying, so here. Have this candy bar. I was saving it for later, but you can have it instead.â
âWow, really?â you gush. âThank you so much! Youâre the best, Katsuki.â Â
He can't help but crack a grin. âYeah, yeah. Tell me something I donât know.â Â
You hang out with Katsuki for a while longer after he finishes up his breakfast. He gives you the grand tour of his roomâwhich is decked out in a bunch of All Might merch and looks super impressiveâand then you eventually take your leave. Â
Before you do, though, you want to make sure of one last thing. Â
âAre you sure you're feeling alright?â you insist. âIt was really scary seeing you collapse like that. I just donât want you to be hurt. Iâd be really sad if that was the case.â Â
Katsuki rolls his eyes. âYouâre nagging me the same way my mom does. I already told you Iâm fine. I can handle that much, no sweat. Didnât I already tell you Iâm going to become the Number One hero one day?â Â
âWell... alright. As long as youâre okay.â Â
You have a mission to charm someone, but you have no intention of using it on Katsuki again. If you end up making him faint a second time, it would seriously weigh on your conscience. Â
So, you decide to approach your other closest friend, Izuku. Â
Izuku is different than Katsuki. He's a bit of a crybaby, but that's only because he's such a sweet, honest kid. He tends to be more emotional than most, which just goes to show how much he cares about things. He especially cares about other people and making sure that they always have smiles on their faces. He hates to watch someone get hurt, and when Katsuki fainted, he was easily the most frantic out of everyone.Â
Given his considerate nature, you feel like it would be okay to entrust him with the truth. Â
âSo... your Quirk manifested yesterday?â he blinks. âAnd after you kissed Kacchan and used your powers on him, he fainted?â
You press your lips into a thin line, feeling quite guilty with the admission. âYeah. Please donât tell anyone else yet, Izuku. Youâre the only one who knows, because I trust you to keep it a secret. My Quirk seems pretty confusing so far, so I donât really know what Iâm supposed to do with it.â Â
âI-I promise to keep it a secret!â he reassures, nodding his head so fast that his curly green locks bob in place. Â
âThank you, Izuku.â You pause, not quite sure how to breach the next topic. âUm... there was actually something else I wanted to tell you about.â Â
His brows arch. âSure. What is it?â Â
âMy Quirk... it gave me a mission. It said I have to charm someone again. Iâm not sure whatâll happen when I actually do it, but I want to give it a try and see how it goes. Iâm hoping it might help me figure things out.â Â
âOh, okay.â Â
Clearly, Izuku doesn't seem to understand where you're going with this, but once the realization finally sets in, a strangled little gasp catches in the back of his throat. Â
âW-Wait!â he squeaks, flailing his hands in a panic. âD-Do you mean that you want to use your Quirk... on me?â Â
You smile shyly. âI was hoping to, yes. I have to kiss someone before I can charm them, though. Would that be okay? A kiss on the cheek, like what I did to Katsuki yesterday?â Â
At only four years of age, even just a cheek kiss is a big deal. Someone like Katsuki is normally unfazed by most things, but even he got incredibly flustered when you kissed him. You can only imagine how Izukuâthe shyest kid in the neighborhoodâmight react. Â
Heâll probably refuse. If he does, I should just leave it. I donât want to make him uncomfortable. Â
To no oneâs surprise, Izuku is already burning red from embarrassment. Heâs taken several steps back, most likely out of pure instinct, and is now clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles are white as paper. Â
âYou want to k-kiss me,â Izuku stammers nervously. Â
âOnly if you let me,â you promise. âI donât want to make you upset. Itâs just that itâs the only way to use my charm ability, so... yeah. But then again, Iâm worried that you might end up fainting too. Ugh. I donât really know what to do...â Â
Embarrassment aside, you can understand why Izuku might be afraid to let you use your Quirk on him, especially after what he just witnessed yesterday. He has every right to refuse, purely from a self-preservation standpoint. Â
But he doesn't.
âO-Okay,â Izuku swallows. âIâm happy you got your Quirk, [Name]. And... I want to help. Y-You can kiss me if you need to. Even if I pass out, itâs okay. As long as I can help you.â Â
He proceeds to squeeze his eyes shut, no doubt too flustered to bear watching everything unfold. You officially have his go-ahead, and even though you don't want to end up making him feel unwell, you aren't sure how else you're supposed to get used to your Quirk. Â
Please donât make Izuku faint. Please let him be okay. Â
Drawing in a sharp breath, you slowly approach him. Despite the fact that his eyes are closed, he can still hear you moving closer, and he starts shaking like a leaf in the wind. You figure it's best to just go for it as quickly as possible and spare him the nervous anticipation.Â
Blushing quite a bit yourself, you peck Izuku on the cheek, then hastily pull away. Â
âI-Itâs done,â you say. âIzuku, you can open your eyes now.â Â
He does just that, although it takes him a while to actually work up the nerve. Eyes the color of emeralds slowly drift open, and he even lets out a nervous little hiccup, clearly mortified beyond belief.
âA-A girlâhicâa girl actually k-kissed me,â Izuku stutters. Â
[đđŹđ đŞđđđđ đ¨đ§ đđ˘đđ¨đŤđ˘đ˛đ đđłđŽđ¤đŽ?]
There it is again. You now have the option of using your ability, just like before. You can't deny that you're a little worried. A power that makes people fall over unconscious is quite daunting, but you hope that things won't always turn out that way.
âHold my hand,â you offer. âJust in case you fall over. Iâll catch you so that you donât get hurt.â Â
Nodding shyly, Izuku wraps his little hand around yours, then you finally make your selection.Â
>>[đđđ]
It doesn't take very long for your Quirk to take effect. Much like Katsuki, he starts looking weak and unsteady. You hold his hand tightly, even loop your arm around his back to make sure he doesn't suddenly faceplant onto the ground. His breathing is getting shallower by the second, and if you thought the blush on his cheeks before was outrageous, it can't even compare to the one he has now.
âI feel... weird,â Izuku mumbles. Too weak to even remember his earlier embarrassment, he clings to your body as if he's holding on for dear life. â[Name], whatâs... whatâs happening? I feel... warm and fuzzy. So warm...â Â
You fear that he's getting close to passing out. So far, it seems to be following the exact same pattern as before. Darn it. Is this really a mistake? Is coming to terms with your Quirk really worth doing this to the people you care about? Â
Before you can ponder the moral implications of your actions, Izuku suddenly cups your cheek with his hand, then presses his lips against yours. Â
Um?! Â
It's a quick, chaste kiss, but a kiss nonetheless. A real kiss, not just one on the cheek. You feel like your entire face is on fire, and it's safe to say that youâve been momentarily stunned from embarrassment. Â
And by Izuku, no less. A kid who wouldâve never had the guts to do that under normal circumstances. Â
âHehe,â he giggles, appearing somewhat delirious. âI kissed [Name]⌠on the lips. Wow. Was I your first kiss? I sure... hope so.â Â
He goes limp in your arms right after that. Â
[đđ¨đ§đ đŤđđđŽđĽđđđ˘đ¨đ§đŹ đ¨đ§ đđ¨đŚđŠđĽđđđ˘đ§đ đ˛đ¨đŽđŤ đŚđ˘đŹđŹđ˘đ¨đ§! đđŹ đ đŤđđ°đđŤđ, đ˛đ¨đŽđŤ đŹđđŤđđ§đ đđĄ đĄđđŹ đ˘đ§đđŤđđđŹđđ đŹđĽđ˘đ đĄđđĽđ˛. đđđ° đŚđ˘đŹđŹđ˘đ¨đ§đŹ đ°đ˘đĽđĽ đđ đđđđđ đŠđđŤđ˘đ¨đđ˘đđđĽđĽđ˛. đđ¨đŚđŠđĽđđđ đđĄđđŚ đđ¨ đ¨đđđđ˘đ§ đŚđ¨đŤđ đŤđđ°đđŤđđŹ.]
Your body is briefly enveloped by a strange, pulsing light, and you swear that something inside you just changed. It's such a subtle change that it's probably almost negligible, but you know you aren't imagining it. Â
Also, Izuku has definitely fainted. You are now responsible for having made two of your friends pass out. Â
You shoulder the weight of his body as best you can, then let out a heavy sigh. âI need to get him back home as soon as possible."
Your Quirk is kind of like a game. Based on what you know about it so far, at least. If you keep on completing the missions the system gives you, then you will be rewarded by having your strength increase. It's like gaining experience points and leveling up. That's the best analogy you can think of.Â
You don't like making people faint, though. After charming both Katsuki and Izuku, it's clear that the effects of your powers are perhaps too strong. You really hope there's a way to control it better. Maybe you're simply too inexperienced? Â
âHey, system,â you call out. âIâm still kind of confused about this whole thing. Can you please explain it better? I donât want to make my friends keep fainting.â
You don't receive a response, so you figure it isn't an entity you can actually communicate with. It doesn't appear sentient, at the very least. It's most likely just there to give you missions and track your progress. Â
Well, that sucks.Â
You still want answers. Then again, nobody ever said that mastering a Quirk would be easy, and youâve only just gotten yours. You suppose you'll just have to be patient. Â
Out of the little friend group consisting of you, Katsuki, and Izuku, you are the first to have your Quirk manifest.Â
After that, it's Katsuki. Â
Since he has such a strong personality, it isn't at all a surprise that his Quirk would turn out to be strong too. He has the ability to create literal explosions from the palms of his hands. It's honestly incredible, and everyone in the neighborhoodâas well as the other kids in the local preschool you attendâcan't help but be in awe. Â
Once Katsukiâs Quirk manifests, his personality starts to change, and not for the better. Â
Eager to show off his strength, he starts getting in fights with all sorts of people. Most of them are other kids his age, but he even picks a few fights with those that are several years older than him. And he never, never loses. Â
âWow, Katsuki!â you gush. âYouâre so amazing! I canât believe you beat those guys up even though they were so much bigger than you!â Â
Since you're young and stupid, you don't realize that in praising Katsuki for his acts of violence, you are actually part of the problem.
Katsuki sniffles, wiping away his tears before they fall. He got quite a beating during the fight, but in spite of that, he still held out until he won. âObviously,â he huffs. âIâm not going to let anyone talk smack about me. It doesnât matter how much bigger or older they are.â Â
You haven't received any more missions since the day you charmed Izuku, but by now everyone knows that you at least have some sort of Quirk. Katsuki was skeptical at first, but even the doctor was able to confirm that your Quirk factorâwhich is what allows your powers to functionâis located in your brain. So long as your brain keeps working, you have the means to interact with the system and use your abilities. Â
The same can't be said about Izuku, though. Â
He keeps waiting for his Quirk to appear. He waits and waits, and yet it still shows no sign of manifesting. All Quirks are supposed to manifest by the age of four, with no exceptions. You do everything you can to reassure Izuku that it's going to be okay, but no one seems to understand why he hasn't gotten his Quirk yet. Â
Somewhere along the way, Izuku is labeled as Quirkless, and with his newfound cruelty, Katsuki makes sure to torment Izuku at nearly every turn.Â
âFrom now on, weâre going to call Izuku Deku,â Katsuki chuckles. âDeku means someone whoâs a good-for-nothing loser. Itâs perfect for him, since heâs a Quirkless weakling.â Â
You frown. âThatâs not nice, Katsuki. Take that back. Thereâs still some time left. Izuku will get his Quirk soon, youâll see.â Â
âYou need to stop defending him, [Name].â Katsuki sighs out in annoyance. âCanât you see just how lame he is? It actually makes a lot of sense that he doesnât have a Quirk. I always thought that he was weak. This is just how the world works. Right, guys? Donât you also think Dekuâs a loser?â Â
The two other neighborhood kids that often follow Katsuki around, and who have since become his underlings, hastily nod in agreement.
âDekuâs a great name for him.â Â
âItâs what he gets for being Quirkless.â Â
Poor Izuku is already in tears, and you can't help but ball up your little fists in frustration. Â
You like Katsuki. You really do. But lately heâs started acting like a real asshole, and you're honestly getting sick of it. Â
âHis name is Izuku,â you insist. âDonât give him a rude nickname to try and make fun of him. Doing that is whatâs actually lame.â
â[N-Name],â Izuku whimpers, wiping away at his misty eyes. âThank you...â Â
Even though you are friends with both Izuku and Katsuki, you know well enough to understand when something is just plain wrong. Katsuki is bullying Izuku, and it needs to stop. Â
In picking sides, though, you actually end up making Katsuki even angrier. Â
âYouâre such a goody-two-shoes,â he spits, then uses an explosion to swat Izuku right across the face. His explosions aren't incredibly strongânot yet, at least, since he's still just a child. But they deal enough damage to hurt plenty, and Izukuâs little whimpers soon turn into full-blown sobs.Â
Alright. Youâve officially had enough. Â
âCome here,â you grit out. You grab Katsuki by the arm and pull him in, then roughly kiss him on the cheek. His immediate instinct is to freak out, of course, but he's mainly embarrassed, not angry. Â
[đđŹđ đđĄđđŤđŚ đ¨đ§ đđđ¤đŽđ đ¨đŽ đđđđŹđŽđ¤đ˘?]
>>[đđđ]
It doesn't take him long to quiet down after that. While you don't like making people faint and overall feel unwell, desperate times call for desperate measures. It's better than letting him keep harassing and beating up Izuku, in any case. You are choosing to incapacitate one of your friends in order to protect the other one. Â
âNot this shit again,â Katsuki mumbles in a daze. He seems to fend off the effects of your Quirk a lot better this time. Perhaps you're starting to get used to controlling its output? But regardless, he still ends up collapsing eventually. Youâve effectively put him to sleep. Hopefully a nap will help him clear his head a bit. Â
âAw, man!â one of the other guys whines. â[Name] just used her Quirk on him. Thatâs cheating! You canât just go around doing that!"Â Â
âNuh-uh,â you deny. âKatsuki used his Quirk to hit Izuku first. He started it. Carry him back home, please. He needs to be put into bed.âÂ
They make sure to grumble the whole time, but still bring Katsuki back to his parents. Â
Now, it's just you and Izuku. Â
âAre you okay?â you ask, worry lacing your expression. âIâm sure it probably really hurts to get hit by one of his explosions. I promise itâll be alright, Izuku. Iâm here for you.â Â
Izuku nods weakly. âIâm fine. Thank you for helping me. If only I wasnât so weak... then I could help myself.â Â
âYouâre not weak at all. And your Quirk will show up soon! I have a good feeling about this.â Â
It's pure unfounded confidence, but you're only an idealistic child, after all. Â
Strangely enough, though, despite the fact that youâve just saved him from getting beaten up, Izuku isn't all that happy. He knows you have to kiss someone first before being able to charm them, but he still can't stop replaying what heâs just seen. The way your lips pressed right against Katsukiâs cheek... it's impossible to get it out of his head. Â
Izuku is too young to make sense of his emotions, but he is experiencing ugly jealousy for the very first time in his life. Â
Itâs okay, he thinks. I got to kiss [Name] on the lips before. Even Kacchan hasnât done that. And she... stood up for me. Because Iâm important to her. Â
In that moment, even the pain of being Quirkless isn't quite as intense as the fear of losing your affection to someone else.
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#bnha x reader#yandere bnha x reader#bnha#yandere bakugou#yandere izuku#yandere shouto#yandere dabi#yandere shigaraki#yandere shinsou#yandere amajiki#yandere overhaul#yandere my hero academia#yandere bnha#yandere mha#yandere mha x reader#yandere reverse harem x reader#yandere reverse harem#bnha fanfiction#yandere x reader#various x reader#anime x reader#yandere#yandere kaminari#yandere kirishima#boku no hero academia#x reader#yandere!bnha#quotev#bnha series#bnha fic
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The Best Friend
(Preview)
Geto Ă Reader Ă Gojo pairing
Trigger warnings: NSFW content, including sexually explicit scenes (maybe). Poly Relationship (eventually). Emotional manipulation and power dynamics. Private relationship between counsellor and counselee is unethical so please don't date your therapist. MINORS DNI
Youâve been working at the corporate counseling department for a few months now, and one thingâs been constant: Gojo Satoru. The man, somehow, is always in your office. Heâs the CEO of the company, but it seems like heâs always got some reason to book a session. At first, it felt like a weird formality, but now, youâve gotten used to it. And honestly, youâre starting to understand why he needs so many counseling sessions. Gojoâs got this playful, carefree vibe that makes it hard to take him seriously. Heâs the type of guy who seems like heâd rather make jokes than have a real conversation, but when he does talk about something deeper, you can see thereâs more to him than just the annoying, charming guy who skips into your office like he owns the place.
One thing that keeps popping up, though, is his best friend. Gojo wonât stop talking about him, but heâs super vague. âAh, my best friend? Heâs too popular with girls. You really donât want to know about him,â Gojo says, flashing that trademark grin. Itâs almost like heâs trying to protect you from the guy, or maybe just doesnât want you to meet him for reasons you canât quite figure outâeven though youâre only asking for counseling reasons.
As if that wasnât enough, your best friend, Kugisaki Nobara, decided you were âreadyâ to get back out there, and set you up on a blind date. Of course, you tried to protestâyou're not exactly looking for anything serious, especially not right nowâbut Nobara wouldnât have it. She pushed you out of your comfort zone, and before you could say âphilosophy,â you were sitting across from Geto Suguru, a calm, collected philosophy professor with a steady gaze and a soft smile.
Geto was, well... the opposite of Gojo. Heâs polite, well-mannered, and you could tell heâs a genuinely kind person. His quiet intelligence made for interesting conversation, and unlike Gojo, Getoâs not the type to fill every second with jokes and antics. He seems to enjoy deep, thoughtful talks, which you find yourself looking forward to more with each date. Yet, there's one thing Geto mentions way too often. His best friend.
âOh, him? Trust me, you donât want to know,â Geto sighs, rubbing his temples. âHeâs just... too annoying. I canât even deal with him half the time. You donât need that stress.â
Youâre getting the sense that both of these guys have a mysterious best friend thatâs somehow never worthy of a proper introduction. Itâs all starting to feel a little too convenient. But hey, youâre just the counsellor for one, and there for good conversation and some nice dates with the other, right?
And while youâve been getting to know them both separately, you canât ignore the fact that youâre kind of enjoying their company. Gojoâs the kind of guy who canât help but be annoying but somehow keeps you laughing even when heâs totally out of line. You canât deny his charm, even if he drives you nuts sometimes. And Geto? Well, heâs just... easy to be around. Calm, collected, and honestly, you could spend hours talking to him about anything.
Sometimes, though, the way Geto talks about the world makes you pauseâjust for a second. Itâs nothing obvious, just a word here or there, a tone that lingers too long. You brush it off, but it leaves you with an odd feeling you canât quite shake.
Youâre not exactly ready to call it anything serious, but as the weeks go by, you start realizing that youâre developing a little soft spot for both of them. Theyâre nothing alike, but thatâs exactly what makes them so interesting.
What you donât know, though, is that while youâre out here juggling dates and sessions with Gojo and Geto, something seems to be shifting in each of them. They both find themselves thinking about you more than theyâd planned, though neither of them would admit it.
---
Do not copy, plagiarise, translate or repost any of my content.
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#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen anime#jujutsu kaisen manga#jjk fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jjk gojo#jjk satoru#jjk gojo satoru#jjk satoru gojo#jjk satosugu#jjk geto#jjk geto suguru#jjk suguru#jjk suguru geto#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jujutsu kaisen satoru#jujutsu kaisen geto#jujutsu kaisen suguru#jujutsu kaisen writing#gojo satoru#jujutsu gojo#gojo smut#gojo x reader#suguru geto#geto suguru#jujutsu geto#geto x reader#sukuna ryo
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Blackmail
Hoodie x FEM!Reader
cw: no smut, mentions of a gun (revolver), reader has an extremely shitty boyfriend, nicknames said: 'babe', 'babygirl', 'gorgeous girl', 'pretty thing', 'good girl', dead dove do not eat, I based this off the scene in euphoria season 2 episode 6 (the scene where nate puts a gun to maddy's head), mentions of stalking, ghostface quote, mentions of infidelity, gaslighting, swearing, hoodie is a murderous gentleman. come get your food (dddne pun)
It had been six hours since you last saw him.
Now don't take this the wrong way. You weren't the kind of girl to get sad when your boyfriend wasn't by your side again after being gone for five seconds. Quite the opposite.
Liam was a piece of shit, but somehow you loved him. So the reason you had been counting the hours until he got back home was that you had a sneaking suspicion that he had been sleeping with other girls, but god you had hoped and prayed that it wasn't true.
After a while of sitting on the corner of your bed with your head in your hands and planning out what you were going to say to him, the front door finally opened and Liam walked in and right up to where you were.
"I'm home, babe." He said as soon as he entered the room, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you looked up. He sat on his side of the bed and began to undress for bed.
"Where have you been?" You stood up, crossing you arms, finally confronting him despite your fear of him.
He chuckled, both nervously and darkly, "Babygirl, what do you mean?" Liam turned to look at you.
"You've been out all day, you haven't answered my calls or replied to my texts, and you didn't leave any notes or messages." You listed them off, making sure to stare directly into his stupid pretty brown eyes.
"Wha - babygirl, I have a job?" He backed himself up, but you had already prepared for this conversation.
"It's Sunday. Your job is out on Sundays." You walked backwards, sitting on your desk chair to keep the distance, because something didn't feel safe about this.
And almost on cue, you heard a metallic click. "What was that?" Your heart dropped, you recognised that click. It may seem stupid, but you had watched enough action movies to know that click belonged to a gun being loaded.
"Liam. What was that?" You pushed your chair back, even though the bullet could reach you in any corner of the room.
A terrifying emptiness took over his features, a hauntingly calm expression. He pulled the gun out of his jacket pocket, standing up and slowly coming towards you while the deadly cold expression stayed on his face.
The space between you and him was big enough for you to stand up from your chair and jump onto the bed. You threw a pillow at him as hard as you could, scared tears starting to develop and fall down your cheeks.
Liam laughed at that, it appeared he found your fear a laughing matter. "Aw, why you crying?" He creeped onto the bed, climbing on top of you and gently pressing the gun to your temple.
The cold metal that was suddenly against your head clicked, and that's when it hit you. He was playing a twisted game of Russian Roulette.
He switched to pressing the gun to his head, and pulled the trigger a few times to no avail. So, he got up and left the room to load the gun with more than one bullet.
But that didn't involve the bang of a gun, and it didn't involve a body thudding to the floor. But it definitely didn't involve a voice saying: "Smallest gun I've ever used."
Several seconds after the voice spoke, you quietly got up and closed the door, crawling back onto your bed and burying your head into a pillow to silently sob into it.
However, your crying session was interrupted by the door opening again. Heavy footsteps walking towards you, the bed sunk from someone's weight behind you.
"Now what happened here?" It was the same voice as before, commenting on the size of the gun. The voice clearly had a filter over it, but it sounded like a male. Stuffing your face further into the cushion, you tensed up when you felt a leather gloved hand gently stroke and pet your side as if the person knew what had just happened and wanted to comfort you.
"Sorry about your boyfriend," Oh, God. "All those muscles didn't help much." Liam was dead, shot and killed.
Whoever it was didn't seem to like the fact that your face was shoved into a pillow, so they grabbed your face by the chin and turned you over to look at them. "Oh, what a pretty thing." Your cheeks had tears marks, and you were still crying.
"Scared, huh?" Now that you were looking at them, it was obvious they were a man. A very broad and tall man, also quite dominant by the looks of it. He had a turmeric yellow hoodie and a black and red ski mask
You sniffled, and the hooded man chuckled and cocked his head before speaking again. "Stop crying." He wiped a tear with his thumb, moving his arm under your back while snaking the other under your waist.
He lifted you in a bridal carry, but you squirmed in his grasp. "That's enough. A gorgeous girl like you shouldn't be in the same house as the dead body of a shit muppet. Is that clear?"
Almost frantically, you used your sweater paws to wipe the tears away. "I want an answer. Preferably a verbal one." the man demanded, and you answered. "Yes." your voice quivered while you spoke.
"There we go." He started walking out of your room and out of the house, into the vast woodland expanse behind your house. "Now, I'm gonna tell you why I did what I did. And you're going to listen." Not once did he put you down.
"I've been stalking your dead boyfriend for three months now, and I only got the order to kill him two days ago." Wait, 'got the order'? What did that mean?
"I didn't need to kill him for another week, but I did it early because of what I saw him do to you, pretty thing." He continued. Oh, he saw everything. "Pointing a gun to your head, laughing at your fear. You don't do that to a woman, especially not your own fucking girlfriend."
You began to stop crying, instead just looking up at him with glassy eyes and rosy cheeks. But after a while you felt a headache build up, and your vision grew blurry and you saw black dots.
"That's it, good girl." That was the last thing you heard.
#opeia rambles#my writing#creepypasta x reader#hoodie x reader#dead dove do not eat#can you tell I made hoodie say the better petnames#apologies this was my first dddne fic
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2nd Desire ጠTie Me Down [M]
ጠAspects of Desire series ጠAteez Jongho x fem!reader ጠfeat.: Yeosang ጠwords: ~5.1k ጠgenre: established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, smut (dom!Jongho, sub!reader, reader masturbating and asking to be punished for it, readerâs hands tied together, heâs a bit mean but goes soft dom when reader shows signs of discomfort, strength kink, fingering, some body worship, teasing, begging, unprotected sex) ጠwarnings: (him running his hand through readerâs hair)
Desc.: Lost in your excitement over the recent development in your relationship with your boyfriend Jongho, you try to tickle more of his dominant side out of him. When he shuts down that attempt with only the best of intentions, he makes sure you wonât stay flustered by your miscalculation for long.
Author's note: chapter 2 and I'm STILL nervous about posting kasjdfĂślksa I hope you guys enjoy though~ alsoalso I decided to do a taglist for this fic, so if you want to be added, just drop me an ask about it <3
â prev chapter ጠnext chapter â
You drop your bag beside the entrance as you walk into Jonghoâs apartment, the little melody resounding when the door falls into its lock thatâs usually just another background noise to you manages to annoy you on this day. Itâs only half past 4, yet you feel like youâve been awake for more than 20 hours.Â
You slip out of your shoes and step inside, the sofa in the living room being your destination. With a groan you let your body flop down onto it, the cushioned surface softening the impact. Youâve been at university since morning, your first class of the day being quite an interesting one and almost making you forget about the dreadful events that would follow suit. For lunch you met up with other students from your major to work on your group project, and these people really remind you time and time again why you absolutely hate group projects. Youâre a group of seven, yet somehow the only ones taking the whole thing seriously are you and Yeosang, a guy youâve done a course with before and who you luckily ended up being in the same group with. You know from back then that he does his work diligently enough - what you didnât know was how badly the other five would do. One of them ran late, claiming he was convinced the meeting would start at 2 and not at half past 1, one of them didnât show up at all, the others half-assed their parts and one girl only did half of what she was supposed to do. Itâs a mess, and itâs stressing you out, because youâre getting a shared group grade for the paper. If you were being graded individually, you wouldâve already decided to just do well on your own part, and make sure to precisely document who worked how much, but since you canât exactly do that here it eventually came to the point where you decided it would be better if you took over the lead. As the person who has assigned herself the role of scolding the others into doing their work properly, you didnât exactly gain their sympathy, but thankfully Yeosang was right there to have your back. Sharing their disdain was still better than having to shoulder it all alone, so you made a mental note to thank him with a cup of coffee or a meal later on.
But for now you want nothing more than to get this stupid project out of your mind, and lying motionlessly on the sofa and staring at a wall without any kind of distraction from your angry thoughts running wild isnât exactly the best way to go about that. So you get up with a heavy sigh, peeking into your boyfriendâs room through the gap in the door standing ajar, before walking inside. He isnât home yet - you assume he must be on his way, because his last class of the day shouldâve ended about 10 minutes ago. Walking over to his closet, you open the side where he made space for some of your clothes, and you grab some comfortable pants and a t-shirt you havenât worn in a while. Thereâs the logo of a game printed at the front - coincidentally a game you both used to play when you were still in school, and one of the topics you bonded over as you were slowly becoming closer.
You trod over to the bathroom, figuring you should take a shower in an attempt to clear your mind first of all - maybe you could magically find a way to wash off all the frustration the day has drenched you in. Either way, at least the warm water raining down on your skin has a calming effect on you, and so for a few minutes you merely stand there, doing nothing. You reach for the soap eventually, and as youâre cleaning yourself your thoughts slowly drift elsewhere.
Until you remember the conversation you had with Jongho about establishing a different kind of dynamic between you two. Your fingers dance up your body to your throat, and padding them onto your pulse reminds you of what it felt like to have his hand in this position instead. The thoughts of the project are quickly forgotten, yet your cells have not quite let go of the frustration yet - but thatâs nothing a quick orgasm couldnât take care of, right?
So you let your hands wander, allowing them to map out your own body wherever instinct leads them, and as your fingers find your core, you let out a long sigh. This feels like just what you need right now, so you donât hold back, beginning to draw circles onto your sensitive bud. Feeling your limbs relax from the sensation, you lean your back against the wall, and eventually you reach out for the shower head, changing the setting to the highest pressure and letting it do the work for you.
You donât think of much at all, simply enjoying the pleasure coursing through your body, until you can sense yourself coming closer to the edge, and you buck your hips up against the water jet.
âFuckâŚâ you whimper, as a scenario crosses your mind. âWhat if he finds outâŚâ You gulp at the thought of Jongho figuring out you got off without him, in his apartment, and your mind begins to wander as you fantasize about all the ways in which he might punish you for it. Another curse escapes you through gritted teeth, and soon you feel your high crashing down on you, walls clenching around nothing as his name falls from your lips.
You step out of the shower feeling refreshed, purposely not changing back the setting of the shower head. You want him to catch you, want to know about all the things he would do to you that you havenât seen him do before. Slipping into fresh clothes and wrapping a towel around your head to let your hair dry a bit before finishing the process with a blow dryer, you grin to yourself and you walk out into the living room.Â
Your boyfriend comes home about half an hour later, just as youâre putting the blow dryer back to its original place in one of the cabinets in his bathroom. You suppress the excited grin that just wonât leave your lips, and instead greet him as per usual.
âYouâre late,â you remark as you catch sight of the time displayed on your phone screen.
âYeah, the subway was crowded. Shouldâve taken the bus,â he mutters as he walks up to you, his hand patting your head in a gesture thatâs supposed to say âIâm home.â
âRight, itâs starting to get bad at this time,â you continue your small talk.
âHow did your meet-up go?â
âDonât askâŚâ you brush it off quickly, hoping to ward off the stress creeping up to you again upon him mentioning it.
âThat bad?â Jongho asks as he lets out a short laugh while he furrows his eyebrows, telling you he feels at least a little sorry for you.
âYeah.â You roll your eyes. âAnd you? How was your day?â
âDonât ask,â he answers, and now youâre the one chuckling. âIâll go wash up real quick, and I think Iâll need some time to decompress afterwards.â
âSure,â you mutter, before reaching up from where youâve made yourself comfortable on the edge of the sofa, hand snaking behind his neck so you could pull him in for a quick peck on the lips.Â
And so he disappears in the bathroom, you hear him turning on the water and you hear him turning it off again after a while, and with every passing second, the excitement for whatâs to come is only growing. Except when heâs done, he simply informs you heâs going to game for a bit, and then he walks into his room. Youâre confused to say the least, and a bit disappointed as well. This is not going according to the plan you had in mind, and you wonder if itâs just because heâs had a bad day or if maybe he just isnât in the mood today. Trying to brush it off, you grab a book you started a while ago, staying out in the living room as you attempt to read a chapter or two, but somehow your mind just wonât let you focus on the story unfolding on the pages in front of you. So eventually you get up, deciding to sneakily follow him instead - youâre not sure why youâre being so secretive all of a sudden.
Your boyfriend is certainly good at reading the room, and itâs helped you leave behind your own awkwardness more than once. So today as well you decide to simply sit at the edge of his bed and watch him play his game, hoping for him to notice somethingâs off as youâre trying to find the right words to say. And without doubt, he doesnât disappoint.
âWhatâs with you?â he asks in between rounds, his voice soft in contrast to the serious stance he tends to take on while playing his games.Â
âJustâŚâ youâre not sure how to start, how much to hint at what you want - you sure as hell arenât thinking of just saying it straightforwardly, now that youâre beginning to feel a bit embarrassed about it.
âHmm?â He drags out the sound a bit, then the image on his screen changes, and he adds, âLet me finish this and then we can talk?â
âAlright.â Youâre suddenly more anxious than you wouldâve expected yourself to be as you watch, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt the entire time. The time spent waiting for him to turn his attention to you feels like half an eternity, even though once heâs done youâre sure it canât have been more than five minutes. He exits the game to the main menu, and as he takes off his headset, he turns to you in his chair.
âWhat is it?â You see worry on his face, and you immediately feel the need to let him know itâs nothing serious, really.
âNothing bad!â you say.Â
âThatâs good,â Jongho answers, relief behind his words.
âJust⌠didnât you⌠notice anything?â You rub your legs together as you avert your gaze from him, but even in the corner of your eye you can tell heâs thinking hard about your question now.
âNotice anything?â he repeats, and then suddenly his eyes narrow, and thereâs an amused smile about to creep onto his lips. âLike what?â At this point youâd have sworn you could see the exact moment the dots connected in his head, so his question throws you off a little.
âLike⌠uhm⌠I showered earlier.â
âGood,â he chuckles, and you press yourself on to continue.
âAnd uhâŚ. maybe got offâŚâ
âOh. Thatâs nice,â he replies, and once again youâre thrown off, this time by the way the tension in the room drops right away, and heâs now showing you a genuine smile. âWhy are you telling me about that though? Want me to come watch next time?â He tries to throw in a joke, but the confusion radiating off you makes him think again, and well, now youâre sure he understands what youâre trying to get at, because he raises up his chin just a little, giving you that look thatâs supposed to say âI found you out.â
âWere you maybe thinking I would punish you for that?â he assumes correctly, and you nod, heat rushing to your face now.Â
âYesâŚâ Jongho laughs. Itâs more of a giggle, actually, and the amusement in his expression only adds to your confusion. And then he becomes serious, though his features keep their softness.
âLook⌠Iâm sorry to disappoint you but⌠Iâm not going to do anything we havenât discussed beforehand,â he explains, making sure to be clear about his thoughts. âMy first impulse isnât to punish you for masturbating. But if you want me to, we can talk about it.â
âO-okay,â you stammer, and once again thereâs this endearing smile on his face, spreading from ear to ear. You know itâs meant to reassure you, but right now all you can focus on is the embarrassment burning in your chest from making such a severe miscalculation. This isnât how things go in real life, of course it isnât. You should know that, and yet-
âHey,â he calls out to you, hand reaching for yours, giving you a squeeze to tear you out of your thoughts. âLetâs talk about it.âÂ
Heâs also good at that - saying the right thing at the right moment. Or at least he tends to say the things you need to hear in moments like this, and once again you feel unmistakably that youâre safe with him, and that youâre in this together.
âOkay.â
âSoâŚâ letting go of your hand, he leans back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, and you feel the dynamic shift ever so slightly as he wonât divert his eyes from you. âWhat kind of punishment were you thinking of?â You raise your eyebrows, and you begin to ponder on his question, but somehow your head is suddenly empty.
âI⌠donât knowâŚâ you admit, and he grins at your words again.
âYou didnât think about what you want me to do to you now?â
âI mean⌠I did⌠but more⌠in a general sense,â you stammer.
âLike what?â
âLike⌠you fucking meâŚâ And there it is again, that laugh thatâs really more of a giggle than an actual laugh.
âYou didnât think about what comes before that?â
âNot⌠really?â you admit, and he clears his throat.
âThen how about I tell you what came to mind for me, and you tell me if that sounds okay to you?â You nod okay, and he continues, âSo what I was thinking is that I could restrict you in some way⌠putting you in handcuffs maybe, or blindfolding you.â
âI donât think Iâm okay with the blindfolding,â you respond. âHandcuffs sounds⌠nice though.âÂ
âSee? This is just why I didnât want us to rush into this,â your partner says. âBecause if we move too fast, misconceptions about what the other wants, or just about how this whole thing works are bound to go unnoticed.â
âYouâre right,â you agree, being able to see where you went wrong with your assumptions clear as day now. âThen⌠letâs take it slow. Talk before we do stuff.â An awkward laugh escapes you as youâre speaking those words, because after all you were the one trying to rush into this, and now you canât help but feel thankful that he stopped you just in time.
âSoâŚâ Jongho gets up from his chair, walking over to his closet and rummaging through one of the shelves, pulling out a dark red tie. âI think this is gonna look pretty on you. That okay?â You nod, merely watching as he walks over to you, and when he tells you to take off your clothes first of all, you donât hesitate. Placing yourself on top of the bed, kneeling in the middle of it, he sits in front of you, and you hold out your hands for him to tie them together. âNot too tight?â
âNo, itâs fine,â you answer, the soft texture of the fabric feeling quite good around your wrists, actually.
âI donât have actual handcuffs, unfortunatelyâŚâ he explains as he checks the knot one more time, and then he lifts one of his hands to run his fingers through your hair, eyeing you thoroughly. Thereâs a serious expression on his face now, heâs concentrated as he lets his fingertips brush against the side of your throat, but the way he allows for a smirk to creep onto his lips when you instinctively lean your head back to give him access tells you heâs very much having fun with this.
âYou really like that, huh?â he mutters, wrapping his hand loosely around your throat, the warmth of his touch alone causing your heart to beat faster.
âYeahâŚâ you mouth, and to your disdain he moves on. His fingers draw imaginary trails down your body, moving slowly and deliberately, and his eyes follow their every move.
âSo beautiful⌠too bad Iâm gonna have to wreck you.â He speaks silently, and whether itâs because of the tone in his voice or his words you donât know, but itâs giving you shivers all over and you gulp. His hand eventually finds its way to your side, snuggly fitting into the space between your waist and your arm, and he leans in to brush his lips against yours. Itâs a short kiss, yet he lingers there for a few seconds before pulling back merely a few inches - the kind of kiss thatâs meant to make you want more. âWant me to punish you, hm? Then, what if I push you a bit? Be a little less nice than usual and not give you everything you want right away.â You suck in a sharp breath at his words. âYouâd like that?â
âY-yeah,â you say, tension building up. Youâre not sure what exactly he has planned, but you know he wouldnât push you too far⌠right? He wraps the fingers of his free hand around your wrists, and as he brings them up above your head he pushes you back into the mattress, carefully, gently. And yet you donât miss the dangerous glint in his eyes as heâs now gazing down on you, hovering above you as he pins you against the bed. Lowering his head, he makes you mewl as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he scatters a few nips here and there.
âWhatâs your color, dear?â
âGreen⌠very green,â you sigh, feeling his weight on top of your chest.Â
âThatâs good,â he speaks quietly as he comes back up, his face now being right in front of you and the tips of your noses touching for one short moment. You think heâs going to kiss you, but then he sits up instead, letting go of you to rid himself of his shirt. With every movement of his you can see the outlines of his muscles working underneath the skin, and the urge to touch him, to run your nails down his chest and his stomach, makes you bring your hands up. For a moment you forget that theyâre tied together, and you frown at the restraint, and before you can do anything more, your boyfriend is quick to click his tongue at you as he reaches for your hands and pins them back down above your head.
âWanna touch me so bad, hm?â he assumes correctly, and then he adds, moving closer to your ear, whispering sharply, âNo touching unless I allow it.â
âO-okay,â you mutter. You can unmistakably feel the power he has over you now, both in the way you donât have the strength to free yourself from his physical restraint, and in the way you feel yourself immediately submitting to his verbal restraint.Â
âStay like this,â he then says and you nod as he sits back up. This time he lets his palms run down your upper body once as he kneels on top of you, going over to dragging his nails down your skin once he reaches your hips and doing the exact thing you wouldâve craved to do to him. But you obey, waiting patiently for his next move. âSo prettyâŚâ he mutters, his intense gaze burning on your skin, and after having his hands wandering all the way back up, he leans in to leave a trail of kisses down the valley of your breasts. And again thereâs this urge to move your hands, to throw your arms around his shoulders as his lips are mapping out your features, but you canât. You shouldnât, and so you resist.
He kisses his way down your stomach, biting your flesh here and there without applying too much pressure, and the way heâs taking his time with it doesnât help your case as youâre having an internal battle against your own impatience. Rubbing your thighs together as heâs hovering just above your core and heâs touching you everywhere but where you need him the most, you reach your breaking point.
âJonghoâŚâ you call out his name. âPlease.â He merely chuckles at your plea, not even looking up at you now.
âWhat?â His voice is low, quiet. Calmness radiates off of him, like he knows that he has all the time in the world for this.
âT-touch me pleaseâŚâ you mewl.
âHmm,â he makes a noise as he appears to be thinking about your request. âBut do you deserve that?â You let out a whine at his question, and you frown when he crawls all the way back up, only to press a teasing kiss to your lips. âDo you deserve my touch when clearly you decided that you can also just do the job yourself?â He moves up further, his lips brushing against your wrists just below where he tied them together, and then against the knuckles on your fingers. âCanât get yourself off now, can you?â He places his hand over yours, pushing your wrists into the fluffy blanket as if to put an emphasis on his words.Â
âPleaseâŚâ you start another attempt at getting him to do what you want, but he merely sends you a smirk.Â
âYouâre choosing the shower head over me and now you think Iâll give you what you want so easily? Thatâs naive.â You frown, and you pout up at him, and for a second his features soften, before he moves his hand from your wrists to your chin, tilting it up slightly. Then he places a kiss onto your jaw, and he asks, âColor?â
âGreenâŚâ You idiot - you add in your mind, and when he comes back up to get a good look at your face, you can undeniably see the amusement on his face.
âDidnât think youâd like being treated like this so much,â Jongho comments, and then he lets his hand wander from your chin down to your lower stomach. âReally makes me want to do this all day.â Fuck. You gulp at his words, thighs pressing together just as he slips a finger in between, dragging it up your folds once, and you donât expect a singular touch to affect you this much, but you find yourself arching your back as you moan in response anyway.
âRelax,â he says, tapping your thigh once, and you do, spreading your legs apart just a little to give him better access. He doesnât hesitate to make use of that, watching for even the tiniest of reactions as he gathers your juices on his fingertip, moving it back up and making you whimper as he begins drawing circles onto your clit. You buck your hips into his hand once, causing him to sit up so he could use his other hand to press them back down, immobilizing you. âSo needyâŚâ he breathes as he continues on, watching you, and granting you a few teasing touches to your wet pussy. He slips a finger inside, drawing another moan from your lips, and when he adds a second one, pumping them in and out of you at an unhurried pace, you think you could cum on the spot. And he notices the way heâs affecting you, because now he asks you with a cocky smirk on his face that bodes no good whatsoever,
âYou like that?â You nod, whimpering, and when he pulls out, the feeling of deprivation that overcomes you makes you whine with anger - though you donât sound nearly as angry as you wouldâve liked. âToo bad.â
âKeep going, pleaseâŚ!â you try to beg, and it seems to strike something deep within him, because now he raises his eyebrows at you, listening intently.
âWhat was that?â
âK-keep going⌠please⌠pleaseâŚâ you add, the desperation in your voice being obvious. âDonât stop now⌠w-wanna cum on your fingersâŚâ
âIâm sure you do, dear,â he whispers, leaning in to place a soothing kiss onto your tummy, but it just makes you more furious.
âPlease!â you cry out, balancing on the edge between pleasure and frustration, and you know that you wouldnât want him to push you any further. For a second you wonder whether you should tell him, ask him to go easier on you even though you were the one who wanted him to punish you so badly. But he seems to notice your inner conflict, and his smirk softens into a benevolent smile as he brushes his lips against the inside of your thigh now.
âIs that where the line is?â he asks, and you hesitantly nod. He comes up to comb his fingers through your hair, brushing away a strand thatâs sticking to your forehead. âThen letâs not take it any further than this, okay?â
âYeah.â He cups your face with his hand, thumb brushing against your lips, and he questions,
âWhat do you want me to do, love?â
âFuck me⌠pleaseâŚâ you say with furrowed brows, and he chuckles at the sight in front of him. Caressing your cheek as he slowly takes his hand away in order to rid himself of the remainder of his clothes, he retorts,
âI canât believe someone could say something so dirty with such an innocent expression on their face.â And now that youâre becoming aware of what you must look like right now, you find it funny too, and you let out a short laugh.
Your boyfriend places himself on top of you, one hand wrapping around his length in order to give himself a few strokes until heâs fully hard, while he has the other placed next to your head to support his weight on top of it. âWanna hold onto me? OrâŚâ You shake your head. âWant me to pin you down?â Adrenaline rushes through your veins, making you tingle all over from the thought of it, and you nod. Again, he seems amused by your reaction. âAfter all that you still want me to manhandle you, huh?â Him saying it out loud fills you with bashfulness all of a sudden, and still you feel the need to confirm that heâs right.
âYes⌠please,â you mutter. He positions himself in between your legs, aligning himself with your core.
âYou good?â he asks, and when you give him the okay he pushes into you.Â
âFuckâŚâ The feeling of having him finally filling you up makes you hiss a curse as youâre throwing your head back from the overwhelming satisfaction. Jongho reaches for your wrists, pinning you down just like you had asked, and he leans in, his nose brushing against the skin right in front of your ear.
âCan you do me a favour, then?â
âWh-what?â you stutter, impatience building up inside you again.
âI want to hear you beg for me again⌠can you do that?â You whine as he rolls his hips into yours once, and without hesitation you grant his wish.
âPlease⌠please fuck meâŚâ
âMhm⌠thatâs rightâŚâ he mutters, and from the way his voice changes as he begins slowly thrusting into you, you can tell he too has been exerting himself holding back from touching you properly more than you thought.Â
âPlease⌠feels so good⌠b-baby pleaseâŚâ you keep going, your moans turning into mere whimpers when he reaches down between your bodies in order to tend to your clit. âF-fuck⌠w-wanna cum on your cock⌠wanna cum so badâŚ!â you whine, racing towards your high at lightning speed.Â
âShit, youâre perfect,â he utters, his hips beginning to stutter, and the groans falling from his lips becoming more frequent. âSo fucking perfect.â
You cry out when your high comes crashing down on you, hands formed into fists and your nails digging into your palms. Once again you try to instinctively throw your arms around your boyfriendâs shoulders, and when you meet resistance as heâs still pinning you against the bed, your mind is flooded with that much more pleasure. He cums with a broken moan as youâre beginning to come down from your high, whining from the overstimulation as you let him thrust into you a few more times, and then he collapses on top of you.
Both panting, he lets go of your wrists and you immediately bring your arms up to put them around his frame, and this time he lets you. Eventually, after catching his breath, he rolls over onto his back, sitting up and undoing your restraints.
âYou feeling okay?â You nod at his question, your eyelids too heavy to open, but you smile at him.
âMore than,â you mutter, and when he lies back down beside you, you snuggle up close to him. Reaching for your hands, he holds onto one of them, thumb rubbing circles against your wrist, and when you look up you find worry in his eyes. âI really am okay, baby,â you whisper one more time, and he instinctively brings your hand that heâs holding onto in closer to his chest.
âOkayâŚâ he just says, trusting your words, and you send him a sweet smile. Freeing your hand from his grasp, you bring it up to his head, fingers combing through his hair.
âThank youâŚâ you say, slurring your words a bit as the blissful afterglow of your high lingers in your mind. Your boyfriend lets out a sigh, eyelids fluttering shut at the sensation of you massaging his scalp. âFor being careful. And for taking care of me so well.â And now thereâs this smile creeping onto his lips. Itâs barely noticeable, and yet you can tell how your words are affecting him. And in the next second he throws his arm around you, catching you by surprise as he pulls you on top of himself and engulfs you in a tight hug. He says nothing, you know that sometimes itâs hard for him to speak his mind in moments like these, but by now you know him well enough to know what heâs trying to convey with his actions. You giggle at the way he presses a kiss to the side of your face before having you rest your head atop his chest, loosening his embrace a bit to allow you to lie down comfortably. You too snake one arm around his waist, and with your heart swelling with your love for him that seems to know no end, you bury your smile in the crook of his neck.
#ateez smut#jongho smut#ateez x reader#ateez x fem reader#ateez fanfic#ateez series#ateez scenarios#ateez drabbles#ateez imagines#jongho imagines#jongho x reader#smut
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âŚsome of my personal movie!mike schmidt hcs <3
disclaimer: you dont have to agree, just donât be an ass. thanks!
tw: parent/sibling death, mentions of insecurity, nightmares, trauma flashbacks, some nsfw (18+!), could be ooc?? idk?? donât quote me on it
heâs a soft snorer. like the faintest sound comes through at night, and itâs usually when heâs laying on his back. when heâs sick, however, he snores so loud that abby has definitely thrown something at him to be quiet.
used to smoke cigarettes quite heavily. started in high school, then it turned into muscle memory that escalated into a harsh nicotine addiction. the second abby complained about the smell, mike stopped cold turkey, and hasnât picked up a pack since.
does, occasionally, smoke weed though. usually in his car or in his garage late at night. spends extra time cleaning around and getting the smell out, including doing an extra load of laundry so his clothes donât reek. it helps him sleep, although doesnât do much for the nightmares.
mike has one of those huge CD books shoved underneath his passenger seat (it wonât fit in the glove box). itâs filled with many broken disks that are heavily scratched from use, and a lot of them belonged to his father.
heâs so bad at folding. so bad. he either hangs it up super sloppily or straight up just throws his clothes into his closet.
he prefers dogs over cats â although he takes the time to feed one of the neighborhood stray cats that abby has named âmr. whiskersâ because thatâs gonna become his pet goddamn it
listens to a lot of korn, foo fighters, deftones, and the offspring. mike kinda refuses to play that kind of music in the car with abby around, so he might have grown to subconsciously love spice girls and a*teens as wellâŚ
grows insecure when he finds himself in a relationship, feeling like he equally canât be enough or that heâs doing too much. mike has such a fear of pushing away good things from him, so it takes a lot of reassurance for him to finally understand that he isnât doing anything wrong.
falls asleep during horror and romance movies. physically just canât do it.
he canât ever listen to the romantics ever again. if he hears even a snippet of âtalking in your sleepâ, his body straight up shuts down and mike goes into automatic panic mode.
service switch â really, he just wants to please his partner in any way. he doesnât have a preference for anything sexually related, but he definitely gets a kick out of how good he can make his lover feel. he might have studied one too many playboys.
he doesnât really realize how much he craves affection until after he gets into a relationship. whenever his partner leaves for the night, he feels like a piece of him is somehow lost, and he nonstop thinks about how nice it was to just be in their arms â even if it was just for a short moment.
besides the reoccurring nightmare of garrett, mike developed a new one after the events at the pizzeria. he canât save abby in time, the sound of spring locks echoing deep inside his brain that he wakes up so physically ill. he has to go check in on her to get himself to calm down.
has a few really shitty stick nâ poke tattoos that one of his old high school buddies did while drunk together. he has a little stick figure on the inside of his left wrist, and a horribly disproportionate star on his right.
heâs a moaner. not a loud one, but there has been times where heâs either had to cover up his mouth by a pillow or even by his partners hand. itâs not overtly obnoxious or dramatic, more hushed pants and quick whimpers that escape deep from his throat. when heâs close, thatâs when he gets a bit louder, the sound almost guttural.
he really gets a kick out of seeing his partner in his clothes or just doing something in his house. sitting on the couch just TV surfing? heâs hiding behind the doorway to the kitchen just so he can try and get his hard-on to go away.
mike was the type of kid in high school that genuinely did try to pass with good grades, but he just barely managed to scrape by without getting held back from graduation. itâs a regret of his, but understands what was going on during that time.
nicknamed his honda accord âmarvinâ.
really into making out, sometimes preferring it over sex. he likes the closeness and just enjoys the action of kissing â plus, itâs really nice foreplay.
#mike schimdt x you#fnaf movie mike#mike schimdt x reader#mike schimdt smut#mike schmidt#fnaf movie#fnaf
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I think about Jonah Magnus a regular amount, and I especially think a lot about the fact heâs often portrayed as âthe worstâ so to speak, which, when considering the perspective of the other characters, this makes sense. His actions are personal â direct. However, regarding analysing and understanding his character, I think itâs important consider his own words, and remember that heâs more or less in a similar position to every avatar weâve come to know.
My guess is itâs of how Jonah is presented within the story, and the viewpoint from which we experience the story, that we come to know him as somehow worse than all the others. His goals are essentially the same as many other avatars, that being the desire to start a ritual, the only real difference being that his ritual succeeded, and his actions impacted the main POV character â Jon â deeper than anyone else.
This isnât to say what he did to Jon wasnât awful mind you, the point is that it is, and because it quite literally shaped Jonâs entire arc and his progression into deep self-loathing and blame, it becomes harder to view Jonah as just an avatar. He has to become this force of evil instead.
But, if we wind back to episode 92.
We get a glimpse of his mentality, and it is about what youâd expect really, itâs something we see from Jon, the difference being Jon makes a choice to save Martin instead, but before that, heâs intimately familiar with this desire to Watch and to Know and to Understand. He and Jonah are both Avatarâs of the eye after all.
Thereâs almost a tragedy here, to me at least. There always is with avatars, whoever they were beforehand. The choices theyâve made have lead them to this point, to this Becoming, where even people they may have cared deeply for once become secondary to their hunger. Iâve said in a different post that Jonah is a painfully lonely person, and his own mentality as an avatar is definitely part in blame for this, always keeping people at a distance, unable to see them as anything but objects to study.
It doesnât mean he lacks care though, as seen here too.
The fact he kept Barnabasâ Bones for around two centuries is enough to make that clear. He cares, somewhere, but caring does not satisfy hunger, and so, if the time comes, it must be cast aside.
We canât really say for sure who Jonah was before the Eye, whether his quest for power and immortality was something that developed before it, or because of it. I imagine his fear of death has been a lifelong thing, which is fitting considering life expectancy wasnât exactly as long as it is now, but that isnât to say his desperate desire for immortality started then.
We just donât know.
Itâs fitting, oddly enough. Most avatars donât seem to recall when it began for them either, when they changed and Became. Whoever Jonah was before, he has long since given it up, like so many before him, and that, as always with TMA, is a tragedy.
#TMA#the magnus archives#jonah magnus#elias bouchard#TMA analysis#not the best worded but itâs 2am and I should probably sleep soon#Jonah Is such a misunderstood character in my eyes#I mean heâs awful but heâs also just another avatar in many ways
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"Billy wasn't sure what the creature ransacking his train car was.â Alternatively, Billy feeds a stray and ends up with a roommate.
WC: 1215
Serendipity (n): the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.
Billy wasn't sure what the creature ransacking his train car was. Granted, the train car wasn't in the most hidden place ever, but he had made sure to ward it against most creatures. The ward would have made one unable to see the train, and if they somehow saw it anyways, they would have been turned around. He usually was pinged if anything passed his wards, which was why he was so blindsided to see something moving around in his train car. It seemed that this one had slipped through his protections.Â
The creature was strange and almost hard to look at directly. Its blinding white hair moved independent from the wind and twined around its long, pointed, mint colored ears. It was also small, small enough that Billy thought it could comfortably fit into his cupped hands, and wearing some sort of skin tight suit, black with a stripe of silver along its torso. Or what appeared to be its torso, Billy couldn't really tell when its lower body faded into a long tail.
From his perspective, it seemed to be rummaging through where he usually hides his food, showing slivers of its white paws. Did it pass through the barriers he set because it was hungry?Â
Billy approached the creature quietly, making sure not to get too close, he wouldn't want to startle it. His efforts were in vain though as the creature snapped its head towards him. It's glowing eyes like headlights, as if staring into Billyâs soul. The green in its eyes swirling hypnotically as the creature bristled at his presence.Â
Billy watched, amused but vigilant, as the creature puffed up like a cat. Even going so far as to swat a couple times in his direction. So far, it was quite harmless, but the buzzing in the back of his head that he usually equated to Solomon told him to be careful.
Billy slowly dropped to his knees, mindful of the creature's reaction, and shifted his bag to his front. He shuffled through his bag and brought out the small piece of jerky he was saving for later, sliding it slowly towards the creature.
The creature tilted its head, staring at the jerky suspiciously before taking a few steps to paw at it. It apparently passed its test as it devoured the jerky surprisingly fast for its small size. While it seemed to be starving, thankfully it didn't reflect onto its body. It wasn't gaunt or thin, but actually quite plump. Perhaps it just didn't eat for a day or two?Â
Billy took a small step forward, then a few more when he realized the creature was focused on eating. âSo,â He began softly, the creature startling as if it was just realizing he was so close. âWhat are you doing here, little guy?â
It stared at him silently before once again tilting its head. It was cute, Billy realized. The chubby cheeks and button nose paired with big, shiny eyes made it endearing to look at. His expression melted slightly as he took a closer look at the creature.
The creature's ear flicked as it padded up to him, paws on Billyâs knees. It let out an unintelligible sound, layered and harsh to Billy's ear, yet somehow melodious. Billy blinked, not expecting that noise. The creature looked at him almost expectantly, eyes shining brightly.
Billy hesitantly brought his knuckles closer to the creature, feeling its cold nose as it sniffed him. It was clearly unimpressed and trilled for more food. Billy chuckled under his breath as he brought another piece of jerky to the needy creature. It gobbled it up swiftly, looking up at him and once again begging for more, its eyes almost sparkling.
Billy folded under the cuteness overload and retrieved a sandwich from his bag, splitting it in half. He was worried that it would eat more than it could handle if he kept feeding it. He knew very well what that felt like.
The creature blinked at him, once, twice, before giving him a small, pleasant trill and headbutted his fingers. Billy cautiously set his hand over its silky hair? Fur? All he knew was that it felt divine, though not in the godly way.Â
âWhat are you?â Billy asked as he wove his fingers through its hair, genuinely curious on what species the creature was. He had inputted a lot of creatures in his ward but he had no clue what this one was. The tingling at the back of his head spoke otherwise, Solomon knowing very well what it was. He could transform and ask Solomon, since he couldn't really speak to him unless he was Captain Marvel, but that would just scare the creature.
It gave him a look before resuming its lunch, finishing it in record time. Apparently, it deigned him worthy of its presence on his lap as it kneaded his legs then curled up onto them. The purring surprised him, pausing when the creature gave him an impatient look when he halted his ministrations on its hair.
He resumed, of course. Why wouldn't he? It was a nice reprieve from fighting villains as Captain Marvel and watching out for himself when he was on the streets. It was just a quiet moment between him and the strange creature that broke into his home.Â
âŚHe hadn't realized how lonely he was before this.Â
He had friends, of course. Freddy, Tawky Tawny, and the Justice League. But⌠this just wasn't the same. As good as a friend Freddy was, he doubted that he would be willing to just sit and enjoy each other's company silently. Freddy was a huge superhero fan and couldn't help but talk about them in excitement. Not to mention his analyses on Billyâs techniques as Captain Marvel.
The Justice League wasn't any better. They had a professional relationship, thinking of him more as a coworker than a friend. The times he tried to deepen their friendship by inviting them out, he was unfortunately turned down. It seemed that they got along better when they were in battle than not.
Billy usually went to Tawky Tawny for advice, but Tawky Tawny never turned down the opportunity to just spend time in the otherâs company. Unfortunately, those times were far and few between, usually because Tawky Tawny was traveling or busy with something else.Â
With this creatureâ heâd have to name it eventually, Billy thought absentlyâall that was expected of him was companionship, nothing more.
Billy felt a cool paw pat his face, the creature looking up at him concerned. His eyes widened before he let out a huff, ruffling its hair. The creature let out a disgruntled chuff and phased through his hands then batted at them, settling down once more on his lap once it was done.Â
It hadn't been with him long, all he had done was give it some food, and it was already trying to comfort him. Admittedly, it wasn't the best comfort, it stopped once he focused on it, but it wasn't something he expected from a creature he met not an hour ago.
Billy smiled, eyes soft. Perhaps it could stay, if only for a while.
Whipped this up in a couple hours while trying to get out of my funkÂ
Thanks for reading!!
Ao3
#Danny: DO NOT TOUCH ME#Also Danny: I've only had Billy for ten minutes#but if anything happened to him#I would kill everyone in this room and then myself#Why is danny in LBM form?#who knows ÂŻ\_(ă)_/ÂŻ#Billy feels super weird to Danny#Lingering dead wizard + magic + gods = confused senses#baby empath Billy!!#its why hes so certain about danny's emotions#unreliable narrator billy#ghosts can purr :)#cat!LBM#tfw the creature that broke into your home to steal your food becomes family#dpxdc#billy batson#danny fenton#captain marvel#fluff#minor angst#minor hurt/comfort#had a cat visit my house recently#so thats why lbm turned out like that#little baby man#finally living up to my username#serendipity#wip: LBM commits b&e and billy batson gains a friend
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the spoken code
summary: it's been six months within the temple & suddenly, you can't shake that this connection with anakin skywalker seems out of the ordinary, even among jedi, enough so you are prompted with a sign from the force itself, only eliciting more confusion & concerns.
pairings: anakin skywalker x jedi!reader
word count: 14.0k
warnings/notes: mention of war, of death, mention of clone wars, mention of reader's past life, swearing, fluff, soulmate au, teasingaotc!anakin, lots of plot development for these two, pre-angst
series masterlist | 03
Darkness, something you had become quite accustomed to for months. It was waning, though, you knew it; the comfort, the desire to lean into it until it swallowed you whole. It was dissipating day by day, being replaced by something else entirely, by someone else entirely. Yet, you still couldnât understand it. This hold, this plan, the force had written out for the two of you.Â
The more you searched, meditated, and felt inclined to ask Master Obi-Wan, the more the answers seemed further and further from clear. What did they want from you? What did the higher powers of the world want? Why did you suddenly seem so important within the plays of humanity? You couldnât know.Â
A light appeared, pulling you from your thoughts, seeming to be as loud as your lingering footsteps among the dark tiles. Near the end of the hallway, it glowed brightly, a soft blue, enticing you to move closer and closer.Â
âHello?â you called out, your voice a mere echo among the long black walls and black floors. All that was in response to the wallowing silence was but the sound of a faint step off into the distance. One and then perhaps two.Â
That quietness loomed, and your chest tightened, confusion the only feeling you could grasp as you continued forward. Reaching for your belt, you found the spot empty where your lightsaber usually sat. As you peered down, you realized then, in the dim light alone, you werenât in your robes either. The familiar tunic and pants are somehow gone. Replaced by a long white skirt that brushed softly along your bare ankles, paired with a tight long sleeve just as white. It was small along your wrists but comfortable, forming around you as a second skin.Â
Another faint step could be heard just off to your left. You turned quickly but were only met with the pitch black. Your pulse spiked. âWhoâs there?â
Once again, the silence was the only response. Sighing heavily, you turned back to the bright light that remained floating within midair, dauntingly so, as if daring you to step forward. With no other sign in sight, that was exactly what you did. You walked forward, carefully until you were face to face with the bright light. With furrowed brows and eyes reflected by the strange orb, some feeling suddenly washed over. A need to stretch out your arm, to brush your fingers among it. A certain impulse that only grew.Â
With no Master to advise you over your shoulder or the tall chosen one to talk it over with, you couldnât help but reach forward, fingers outstretched. With the smallest brush, a warmth appeared first in your fingertips and then among the empty space in your chest.Â
It took a second, no more, before the ball of light disappeared, erupting more so and soaking upon the walls before you. Your whole sight was washed over with brightness, and you couldnât help but shield them, a wince falling from your lips.Â
A moment passed, and you felt almost afraid to drop your face from your elbow until you heard the lightest laugh. One far too familiar that it had caused your chest to tighten and almost skip. As you dropped your arm to your side, you gasped in surprise. Surprised to find the darkness completely gone but bathed in so much sunlight, all of which washed over cream and beige-colored pillars that towered above you, tangled among the thickest branches and veins stringed with white flowers.Â
âGrandmother,â the young voice laughed again, it filled with so much life. You had almost forgotten it once sounded like that.Â
You turned, and your eyes widened slightly at the sight before you. There within the arbor sat a small girl no older than eight, wearing a white long skirt and a long sleeve that matched your own. Her hair was long and pulled back out of her face in a low knot, small gold butterfly clips laced within the strands of hair. Her face was bare of any invisible scars, evidence of misfortunes. She was pure.Â
âWhat?â The older female voice came from the adult sitting close to the child, legs outstretched, long greying curls bouncing along her shoulders, âY/N, my darling, are you saying you donât believe me, the former queen?â
Grandmother.Â
The eight-year-old version of yourself giggled again, shaking your head with the uttermost oblivion, âNo, it canât be true. They couldnât fly, at least not way up there.âÂ
Your heart ached at the sight then, at the mere innocence that once reflected your skin in such oblivious happiness. Your Grandmother chuckled, that warm comforting sound you had forgotten about not long after she passed when you were no more than fifteen. A soft smile formed across her aging face, so much peace there and then as the sounds of Bakura echoed around the arbor.Â
âShall I tell you another story then?â the former queen asked, only to have the young girl nod eagerly. âAlright, let me think for a moment?âÂ
âNona,â you interrupted, small eyes peering up through the arbor as if looking for what could only be invisible during that time of day, âThe stars.âÂ
âWhich stars?âÂ
âYou know which oneâs.âÂ
The older woman chuckled, acting as if she didnât for a mere moment only to cave at the sight of the small frown that filtered over the young princessâs lips. She, of course, knew which ones because they were the same stars who lined the window of your chambers every night. It didnât matter how much the earth spun or the seasons changed; it remained in the same spot, unmoving, unaligned amongst the rest that moved with life. âOh, you mean the Stars of Lââme?âÂ
The Soul Stars.Â
The young princess nodded, her little head already filling with so many questions. You knew because it was the same expression you still got â furrowed brows and bottom lip tucked with ease between your teeth as you thought long and hard.Â
âMy darling princess, I have told you that story many times before. You know how they came to be.âÂ
âYes, through a collision of energies in the form of pressure and heat.âÂ
The former queen hummed in agreement, smile widening at the great memory her granddaughter proved to have, âAnd what makes them so special?âÂ
âThey formed outside of the stellar nurseries, but I just donât understand it.âÂ
âUnderstand what, my darling?âÂ
That confused look only deepened, and you remembered fondly how the story you had forgotten until now went, the mysteries never quite aligning with reason. âHow is it even possible?âÂ
âSometimes, even when things are possible, it doesnât mean we are deemed worthy of knowing. Sometimes it is better for us not to know. Remember, what I told you about these stars. Though they formed outside of the stellar nurseries, they formed for a reason. A reason that only occurs every hundred years. Can you remember?âÂ
Your heart skipped then at the thought, the memory forming behind your fuzzy mind that you hadnât thought back to for years. The younger version of yourself smiled warmly at the thought, âYes, every hundred years, two souls are chosen by whom we donât know. When they are born, they seem connected just as the two stars in the sky.âÂ
âTwo lost souls,â your grandmother corrected, âThat is something to remember most of all. This act is never random. This choice by the greater powers of our worlds. It is never a mere act of happening but by some sort of fate itself.âÂ
The young princess slumped for a moment, the story, the long winding details becoming a lot for her to handle. Even the version of yourself standing off to the side of the arbor found it difficult to understand then in your adulthood. It felt as if you were hearing it all over again for the first time, and as if the force, the stars themselves, wanted to relay a message, you reached up to lay your hand over your chest.Â
You hesitated, unaware of what it all meant, and your stomach twisted in nervousness.Â
âNona?âÂ
âYes?â the former queen chuckled again as the questions never seemed to cease with the little one who found her head always up in the clouds, believing in the untouchable of everything she couldnât see but feel.Â
âWhy have the stars never aligned? The two never seem to find each other.â
Your grandmotherâs smile remained stoic, but the lines around her eyes deepened. So much so that you found yourself pushing away from the wall of the arbor just to get a better view of it. Just as she went to open her mouth, sure to answer the young princessâs every question asked, another voice boomed from just off the steps of the arbor. âMother.âÂ
A figure emerged, and you felt your breath fall short upon your tongue, unsure of how to even react as the looming frame of the current queen and your mother stepped within the arbor, eyes narrowed down at the sight of you cross-legged in front of the older woman.Â
âMom,â the young girl sighed, slightly disappointed that she had interrupted her grandmotherâs answer.Â
Your feet suddenly stopped, and you felt stuck in the ground, peering over at the beauty that had been your mother. The queen of Bakura, the love of your fatherâs life. The very person he left the Jedi order to be with. The only woman to have ever held a light to his heart other than you. She appeared so young, only ten or so years older than you were now. In all the time without her, the days passing into nights, her face had blurred, the image of her having become so unclear over the years.
Pictures were limited, and suddenly graced with her presence after so long, you couldnât help but finally accept that your father had perhaps been right when he constantly told you how much you reminded him of her. You were almost her spitting image, and suddenly that ache returned, fully, and you had to grasp even tighter to your chest, just wishing she would turn â would see you, look you in the eyes after so long.Â
âY/N, go on, your father wishes to see you?â the cold tone brought you by surprise as this was something you couldnât remember. This side of her.Â
âButââÂ
âGo,â the queen sighed, rubbing her temple.Â
The young princess shared a last longing gaze with her grandmother before running off. As soon as she was gone, your mother turned to her own as the former older queen stood from where she had been sitting on an orange-knit blanket. With her arms crossed over her chest and feet tapping impatiently along the wood of the arbor, you couldnât help but step even closer, unsure if this part was a dream or rather something else, you somehow were being granted to see.Â
âWhy do you have to go and tell her those stories?âÂ
Your grandmother sighed, a look of disappointment appearing, âStories? Is that what you see them as now?âÂ
âThat is what they are,â your mother argued.Â
The former queen tutted softly, frown deepening at the thought, âDoes the king think so too? Your husband?âÂ
âDonât bring him into this.âÂ
Your ears perked up at the mention of your father, him still so apparent and so clear to you that the mention of him hurt. Your motherâs eyes darkened while your grandmother only appeared so solemn at the sight of her own daughterâs frustrations. âHow can I not? He felt it from the day that she was born.âÂ
âMotherâŚâÂ
âHe is a Jedi, so donât you dare diminish it. There is something entirely wonderful here, and you are so worried about hiding it.âÂ
With parted lips, your eyes deepened, a weird feeling washing over you. You tried to lean into it, the force, your senses, but it seemed they had no ability here. Not on these two people who no longer were alive to think these current thoughts or recant them. Instead, you could only stand there and listen, feeling as if the world was ending with each and everything they said that seemed to dance around the conflict at hand.Â
Your mother sighed, that anger fading into nothing but almost sadness, in despair, âWe donât know what or if there is anything here, and Iâm not going to put outlandish thoughts inside my childâs head.âÂ
âSo you are never going to tell her?â Nona asked, that shame in her daughter apparent more than ever.Â
Your mother didn't seem affected by it, not one bit, as she shook her head, glare still settled across her beautiful face, âThere is nothing to tell.âÂ
The coldness raked a shiver across your form, and as you reached out to touch her, your mother, the person you had trusted most in all your life, you felt the scenery fade, almost melting. You were ripped away by a force you couldnât recognize, something heavy. A small yell fell from your parted lips as your stomach sank and your head spun with uncertainty. Before you realized it, you were bolting up, a heavy breath falling from your parted lips in surprise.Â
It took a matter of seconds to recognize where you were. The room was dark besides the light of the moons sneaking in through the windows kept untouched by the curtains. The sheet and blankets pooled around your frame near your waist as you were raked with unsteady breaths. Sweat gathered along your brow, and your throat was tight, and it suddenly seemed the weight of the world was falling upon you. So much uncertainty and confusion at the dream that pierced you. The images so clear so vivid, of Bakura, Nona, your mother â the memory that had to have been real as you stared back almost in a mirror of the past at a young princess completely blind to the future before her.Â
Wiping the sweat from your hairline, you pushed back your long hair from your face and eased your breathing down to a simple inhale and exhale. Silence once again encompassed the air around you, and you felt it all slowly start to swarm your mind, almost like a carousel sure to never stop its incessant turning. You knew the noises within your mind wouldnât stop then, at least not for the rest of the night, so you pushed the blankets even further from your frame and stood from the bed.Â
Finding a robe to pull over your night-slip, you left your chambers, the door closing behind you with a gentle hiss. The temple was quiet and dark, night still gracing the city in peace. The floor was cold against your feet, but you didnât care to go back and find shoes, not when it was somehow welcoming to the immense heat you had felt when you woke up. That discomfort still lingered as you walked the empty halls, unsure of what or where to go.Â
Far from your chambers, near the other end of the temple, you stumbled along a corridor that wasnât familiar and often went unnoticed by many of the Jedi within the temple as it was much narrower than the others, void of many rooms within it. Feeling like you were called to go down it, you walked steadily until you came upon a windowsill sitting right next to a large window, expanding most of the opposing wall. Peering outside, a small sense of relief almost appeared at the sight of the city before you bathed by the dark sky decorated with far too many stars. The sky has always been able to bring comfort ever since you were a child.Â
It seemed that could have very well been because of Nona and her stories â the ones that surrounded the stars, the planets, the unseen forces you couldnât begin to understand how she knew about. Sitting upon the windowsill, legs outstretched and robes spilling over the edges, you stared up while the visions from the night reappeared; reminding you just how much you yourself couldnât get what any of it meant.Â
There was something strange that had happened that night. You didnât want to admit it â not even as you had felt it as the weight of your body sunk deeply into the mattress of your bed. Your breathing had shallowed out quickly, not having known when the stars and the sky of Cruscant had faded into darkness. Into the most comfortable of darknesses soon to only be replaced. Replaced far quickly. Quicker than it ever had before, as if the universe was nullifying all the former pain that had been written in deep pen across your soul.Â
Peering up, you found the stars, the two that seemed to never escape you â both so bright, a strange tint of light blue, and just as you had imagined them to be, they were unaligned. The upper one slightly shifted towards the left, while the lower one favored the right. You knew then it appeared just the same as always.Â
What are you trying to tell me?Â
It was a silent ask, one that weighed quite heavy, so much so you hadnât felt it.Â
That familiarity that seemed to follow you around wherever you went. Instead, he was given away by his footsteps, his shoes appearing much louder than your bare feet had been. Your fingers shifted upon your knees without even realizing, the air warming around them as the voice filled your ears.Â
âHey,â it was gentle, soft, as if trying not to startle you.Â
At the immediate familiarity, a small huff escaped your lips, eyes closing for a mere moment at the awful timing. Then as your attention returned to your surroundings, the energy of him became just as apparent as it always had been. Sighing, you opened your eyes again and turned to look within the small corridor. He was leaning against the windowsill near your feet, having come from around the corner without you even noticing.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â you asked, just as softly back, as you took in his frame, unaware you even had been doing it.Â
His hair was slightly mousled from sleep, the skin around his eyes red as if he had been rubbing them. Long loose pants covered his lower half while a robe was tied quickly around his waist, but not tight enough as you were able to see the bare skin of his chest peeking through. You tried to ignore the sudden stir you felt just at the mere sight alone, hoping more than anything he couldnât sense every single thought running through your mind.Â
Stepping closer, the light from the moon washed over him incandescently, and you scolded yourself internally for having even noticed. Especially now that most, if not all, the frustrations towards him had faded, forming into something else entirely.Â
He ignored your question, instead taking in your bare feet, which led to bar legs sticking out from your robe, that familiar quirk forming along his lips, âCan I sit?âÂ
A second of hesitation, and then you were nodding, pulling your legs up closer to your chest to give him some room. He slid up across from you, his back resting against the opposite wall, his legs following. You tried not to stare so much as he got comfortable, but you felt your throat tighten slightly as his legs widened, leaving room for your own. The windowsill wasnât long enough, leaving the outside of your legs to press along the inside of his â your bare skin able to feel the soft material of his pants and the warmth admitting from within them.
Stare sliding up his frame quicker than you would have liked, you found him already staring over at you intently, too much so that you began to fiddle with your fingers, almost willing to start picking at them but knowing better. You didnât want him to see how nervous you truly were, whether it was because of your dream or him, though you werenât really sure which was at the forefront of your mind.Â
His knee bumped yours enough to keep your eyes on his, and you felt your confines weakening slightly, even if that meant him getting to see just what you were feeling at that moment.Â
âYou never answered my question,â you opposed, not willing to back down then wishing to see the way his expressions shifted, âWhat are you doing here?â
He smirked, almost like it was inevitable to tease you at least a little bit when that furrow appeared between your brows, âYouâve been thinking awfully hard for how late it is. Though Iâm not sure what about. All I know is, it was hard not to feel how upset you were from only a few halls away.âÂ
âFuck,â you cursed under your breath, unable to hold it back, âIâm sorry. Did I wake you?âÂ
He laughed, unable to hold back at how cute you sounded swearing like that, and as he did, his knee bumped yours again. âNo. I was already awake.â
That furrow deepend then, frowning at the mere possibility of him being unable to sleep as well. Able to read your features clearly, he sighed as if hesitant to admit it to you, though he knew the only way for the trust between you to strengthen was to be honest. You didnât know him, not much past the sly smiles, the wit he was told by your dear master to keep to a minimum and the brief moments of softness he had displayed to you. Other than that, there wasnât much else.
You two knew more about each otherâs body language, the way their pulse quickened, or the feelingsound in the otherâs head more so than the past, or much else. It hadnât had the means to be brought up, not until then.Â
âI donât sleep well anymore.âÂ
âWhat do you mean?â you asked carefully, slightly shocked as it seemed you had been so consumed in your own sleeping habits lately that you hadnât been able to feel through your senses that he had been struggling too,
âMy mother,â he explained softly, knowing now he would have to explain it all to you, âIt was a vision or a dream, perhaps, Iâm not really fucking sure. But somehow, she was in my arms, and she was dying.âÂ
âAnakin,â you gasped, âHow long ago was this?âÂ
He shrugged, âA week or so ago. Theyâve only become more frequent since then. These dreams of my mother.âÂ
Your face softened, eyes widening slightly. His stare never wavered from your own as he reveled in your reactions. He had been holding it in for so long, silently dealing with this pain, this fear. You had only agreed to stay a month or so ago, and he didnât want to do something that might weaken this sudden bond you two had seemed to have.Â
âWhere is she now?â you couldnât help but ask.Â
âTatooine.âÂ
Your brows lifted then at the name of the planet, one of many you had studied immensely in your time of preparing to be queen. It required a lot from you, having to understand the political issues that overtook them all, their forms of government, and the allies and enemies of each. Upon hearing that name, you couldnât have even imagined that Anakin had possibly been from Tatooine.Â
âTatooine, so sheâsâŚâÂ
He nodded, âA slave? Yes. I was too. And then, when I was nine, I met Qui-Gon, and we struck up a deal. If I won the Boonta Eve Podrace, and he betted on me, he would have enough money to buy my freedom.âÂ
âAnd you won?â you smiled softly, unable not to as this was the first time you were hearing about his childhood. A childhood that wasnât perfect, was different than your own, but was him. It was something you had found yourself wondering about for months now; where was he from, what were his parents like, what kind of kid was he? All of these questions, you felt too afraid to ever ask â worried what the answers would be.
âAnd I won. Then he brought me here to train under Obi-Wan. Itâs been ten years, and Iâve thought about her every day since I left. I promised I would go back for her, butâŚâ
âThe code,â you finished for him, cringing slightly at the thought.Â
Relationships and attachments were forbidden, even among parents and children.
âI would. I want to more than anything. I just havenât had the opportunity. I know how fucking awful that sounds. It truly isââÂ
âStop. Itâs not. I get it,â you said cutting him off while also reaching forward without even realizing to place your hand on his knee. It was warm and reminded you so much of the day that he had taken your hand in his, the day he had convinced you to stay. The day he silently promised you he could be the one person to trust.Â
He traced the small touch with his blue orbs, one of the first touches you had ever initiated on your own. You bowed your head slightly, a flush appearing along your cheeks, suddenly second-guessing how natural it had all felt. Feeling inclined to retract your hand, a small smile appeared along his lips, one that was different than you had ever seen before. It was a look you wished to see for as long as possible, so you decided against pulling away.Â
âOne day, you will rescue her. Promises arenât taken lightly when itâs a Jedi making them. You meant your word, and I know at the first possible chance you will do as you say.âÂ
He nodded, a calmness now falling over him he hadnât been able to grasp since he had woken up in a cold sweat, panic seeping throughout his body, eyes unable to look or find anything to hold his attention long enough to forget about the crumpled form of his mother. Not until suddenly, you were sitting in front of him, touching him the way you were while saying all the things he needed so desperately to hear. He couldnât help but react by covering your hand with his own, the warmth encapsulating the coldness of yours in a gentle squeeze.Â
âAnd what about you?â he asked, drawing your stare away from your joined hands.Â
âW-What about me?â you stuttered lightly, hating how something as simple as his hand could pull such a reaction out of you.Â
âWhy are you awake? What has gotten you so worked up that I felt I had to come find you?â
Though he wasnât wrong, you hated that he put it that way. As if he needed to come in and save you at every chance he got â all to silence the many demons that filtered in throughout your head. You didnât like the thought, the idea of depending on him so much, that he could feel exactly what you were feeling. How much further would it go?Â
None of this made sense. The force didnât make sense. Anakin didnât make sense. The way he cared about you was too much, and sometimes you wished more than anything you could sever this connection with the hope that he didnât have to feel so obligated to protect you all the time. That night and that dream only made it all worse.Â
If it were true, you didnât know what you were going to do.
âY/N?â Anakin asked, his thumb beginning to rub gentle circles on the back of your palm and you hated how your pulse began to speed up at the small action. He could sense your apprehension paired with the look in your eyes, the fear of saying anything at all.Â
âIâuhâ donât even know how to make sense of what tonight was.âÂ
âJust try.âÂ
You inhaled, that furrow returning between your brows and a hand running through your hair, unsure of how much you could even say. What did you even know? âI thought it was a dream, but now I think it might have been a memory maybe â something I havenât thought of in years.âÂ
âOkayâŚâ he replied carefully, trying to communicate in every way that he was fully listening to whatever you had to say.Â
âI was somehow in Bakura within the backyard of the capital in our arbor. It was green and full of life and so, so beautiful. And Nona, my grandmother was there telling her stories, some that I always told myself to not believe. I was eight, sitting there just listening to every single thing she said. I forgot how young I used to be and so happy. I had never seen myself like that, and it was the strangest thing,â you laughed sadly, eyes glassing over slightly as the images of that night seemed to resurface, appearing just as they had been in the moment, âIt was like I was even there, Anakin but almost a ghost, watching it all.â
Anakin, with his hand still wrapped around yours, was leaning forward, eyes never wavering as he listened and tried to make sense of it. His brows knit together as he tried to make sense of you. As you met his eyes then, you felt your breath almost fall short at how intently he was staring.
Inhaling, that smile dropped slightly, âNona was telling me some story about the stars. The Soul Stars, she called them. This one always felt different from all of the rest, as if everything she said was true. I was asking her a question about them, but then my mother appeared, and she sent me away to find my father. That was the last thing I could remember and where the memory should have ended, with me running off towards the capital, but it didnât. Instead, I found myself watching them, the way they argued, about me, about something they were keeping from me. So, I donât know if this was merely a dream orâŚâÂ
âOr something else. Something the force could be trying to tell you,â Anakin finished your unspoken thought, your two expressions appearing so similar as you tried to realize what exactly could be occurring, between his dream and your own.Â
âIt sounds crazy, I know, but it felt so real and so familiar. If I had known sooner, years ago, maybe I could have set this all straight, but my mother died not long after that, and now I canât help but wonder. Wonder if she was hiding something? If mâmy father knew.âÂ
âItâs not crazy,â he said, hand loosening around yours, just enough for his fingers to intertwine with yours. He pulled on them gently. âNot at all.âÂ
âHow could any of this be possible?â
âSometimes it just is. Thereâs no explanation, no possible reasoning. Impossibilities are possible until proven otherwise. Master used to always tell me that when I first became his Padawan. Being a Jedi, the ability to move things with your mind, know what others are feeling, thinking â none of it should be possible, and yet it is our reality.â
You hummed, peering out of the window once more at the pair of stars. Could it really be? Two souls connected so immensely. But what did that mean? Connected. What did any of it mean?Â
It was as if he could hear your thoughts then, and maybe he had because he was whispering your name so softly while pulling on your fingers again to draw your attention. Eyes finding his again, you melted slightly at the sight. The way his brows were raised, a look that was so warm reflecting off his face, and a slight lift of his lips.Â
âI feel like there could be something wrong with me,â you admitted, and he couldnât help but chuckle, the sound deep, felt throughout your own chest as if it had been you who was the one who made the noise and not him.Â
That warm expression seemed to only deepen, forming into the most beautiful smile while he reached forward, his fist bumping lightly along your chin. You tried to ignore the way it lingered there for a second longer. âThere is nothing wrong with you. Thatâs a ridiculous thing to say.âÂ
âButââÂ
âBut what?âÂ
Holding back, you bit onto your lower lip, unable to say anything more. Because what else was there to say? What else, when you didnât know everything there was to know? Other than the strange feeling you got within the middle of your chest and at the bottom of your stomach whenever he was around somehow dimming all the anger you once had to almost nothing.Â
âY/N, youâre doing well. So well.âÂ
âAnakinâŚâ you trailed off, but he only silenced you with a narrowed look and another squeeze of your cold palm.Â
âDonât try to diminish anything that Iâm saying. Youâre too hard on yourself.âÂ
âPerhaps Iâm just cautious. Waiting for something to happen or waiting around for the day that I finally fuck up, and become someone worth being disappointed in,â you explained, suddenly unable to withhold his touch, the way it could have muted every fear to ever appear within your mind â you felt unworthy of him, of his kindness then, enough so you pulled your hand away instead to pick at the skin around your nails.Â
He watched this, his stomach twisting with discomfort at your need to retreat, at your need to cause your fingers to bleed. âI wish you didnât think that way.âÂ
âWell, Iâm afraid, Anakin. I donât know how else to think of it. There is no other way to. Iâm afraid of what I might do.âÂ
You were staring down at your fingers, unable to look up at him, too nervous to, and in doing so, you focused on the loose skin around your nailbeds. Silence hung in the air as you pulled at the skin, enough for it to tear and start bleeding from how deep you truly had dug with your fingernail.Â
âStop that!â he scolded, voice thick, deeper than you had ever heard it as he reached forward, yanking your hand away but back within his own. He stared at the blood, the way it flowed, sure to drip off your finger at any moment. âThere is no need to be afraid. I will protect you. Since the first day I met you, Iâve known. Known that I could and always will protect you.âÂ
The question was slipping from your parted lips as if he was pulling them from you. âCould you protect me even from myself?â
A moment, this prolonged pause of time stilled by the mere sound of his soft breath and the knitting of his brows. There was a small frown evident upon his pink lips, as if he was truly able to feel every insecurity, every ounce of fear that could be felt from your end; every inclination of uncertainty that flooded your body, your sole being. He could feel it all, and within that pause, those few seconds, his hand once again tight around yours he was filled with the most conviction you had ever seen
âI know it doesnât seem like it all of the time, but I would do anything to keep you safe.â
How in a matter of months had it come to this? You werenât sure. To see through your eyes what the two of you were, none of it could have been true, cruel intentions masked by the simplest affections. Thatâs what it had become. A lie behind your visions, distracted by his handsomeness and the mere enticingness that came from his smirk or the color of his eyes when they found yours from across the room. It could have not been real. That idea canât be the most plausible but a figment of what you wish could be.Â
A Jedi shall not know anger.Â
Nor hatred.Â
Nor love.Â
You had experienced two in the span of a few weeks within your training, and now you couldnât help but worry you would fall victim to the last as well. The last of the forbidden causes that came with being a Jedi. You couldnât. Not when you had come as far as you did; in your training, in your ability to trust, in the ways of simple living that came with being one with the force. There wasnât room for any more. There wasnât room for Anakin Skywalker, and yet he was always there. Almost like a lightsaber to your hip, a protector as he claimed to be, but also the young man who would find ways to scare you, making you jump as he snuck up behind you. He also was the man who would tease you any chance he could as if the sight of you rolling your eyes or your brows furrowing was the only sight he wished to ever see.Â
He wasnât insufferable as you once had deemed him to be and never cruel but thought of himself highly enough to still throw half-witted comments towards you anytime you were training even with Master present, more so if he was present. You thought he had been everywhere before, able to feel him all of the time, but that was minuscule compared to now, compared to how this connection had forged the two of you into the ability to feel so close it was as if you were sleeping next to one another. Sometimes, you swore you could hear his heart beating or the gentle lull of his breath, on rare occasions, he could actually sleep throughout the night. It was only on those few nights when he wasnât with you.Â
It had become a habit, you had found, to be seated within the small corridor of the temple, sitting upon that damn windowsill, legs always pressed against one another. You had found you didnât sleep well anymore either. It wasnât even that you were having more visions, memories, or dreams but that you were kept up late at night by just the single mysteries of the one and how it seemed to coincide so much with how you felt about the young Skywalker.Â
A Jedi shall not know love.Â
And yet you found him to be breaking through every single resolve and healing the deepest parts of sadness you hadnât even known were there. He made you happy, and that was the greatest weakness to have, even if it had made you a better Padawan, even as it had made you a strong Jedi.Â
It was so much easier when you were angry, you realized. When he had you burning from the inside out and willing to hit him with training sticks because it meant you didnât know this. This feeling.Â
âYouâve been avoiding me.âÂ
The voice was gentle but firm as his frame leaned over your back where you were sitting, lips close to the shell of your ear. He was far louder than he should be for the library. Leaning forward over your shoulder, his hand found the table while his waist pressed up against your back. Your breath stilled for a moment, the words in the book almost blurry to the point of no longer being able to read them.Â
It seemed he had found you, hiding away within the shelves of the library in the Jedi Temple. You were sat at a small table, a few books sprawled out, trying to make use of the minimal spare time you had before your next training session with master. With trials at the end of the year, there was almost no time in the evenings outside of meditation, or practices to really study the code or material. At least thatâs what you had told yourself until he had appeared feeling so warm as he loomed over your frame.Â
You didnât dare move but instead kept your position of sitting straight within the chair, eyes cast down at the book before you on balance and the molecular configurations of the force. It was difficult, though, as his hand and his eyes could be seen from your peripheral.Â
âHello, Anakin,â you replied, a voice at a lower level, aware of the many other Padawans and Jedis that crowded other tables outside of between those two shelves.Â
He huffed, aware of your ignorance towards his previous statement, and instead leaned over further to get a look at the book that was open on the table. He let out the same noise when he realized what you were reading while his chest somehow was now brushed up against your neck and temple. You leaned away slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of his cologne that stuck to his tunics.Â
âWhat are you doing in here?â he grumbled as he pulled back from you and instead took a seat in the chair next to yours, but not without scooting closer to your side enough that his knee bumped yours every time his leg moved.Â
With his chair angled towards you, his elbow pressed up along the tabletop, you couldnât help but peer over at him innocently, already making a note of the frustrations that filtered along his face as he leaned against his closed fist. He was already staring at you, and it made you raise a brow in interest.Â
âItâs the library.â
âYes, I know that but we have like thirty minutes until our next training session with Master.âÂ
âWhich is why I am studying,â you said matter of factly.Â
âY/N,â he whined then, louder this time, making you glance around the two of you suddenly embarrassed.Â
âAnakin, the trials are at the end of the year and I am behind.âÂ
âYouâre not that behind.âÂ
You sent him a stern look, âYou have been training to be a Jedi since you were nine, you know everything there is to know for the trials. I have at most a year to learn what you have gotten to learn in the last ten.âÂ
âYou know there is no fucking set timeline on when you need to become a Jedi, right? They hold trials every year. You donât have to take them this year, which I am sure none of the council really would be expecting you to.âÂ
Your throat tightened at the mere thought of being a Padawan without him, âI know that, but if I could take them this year, I would like to.âÂ
He watched you intently the seriousness to which you said it, but as he sat there thinking, looking at you, he couldnât help the thought that appeared. Or how it led to that smirk of his forming and that deadly glint that seemed to fill his eyes too often. âOh, I see whatâs going on here.âÂ
âWhat?â you sighed, knowing even if you didnât wish to entertain his advances, he would send them your way anyway.Â
âYouâre worried about still being a Padawan when I pass the trials. Because then I could someday have the ability to be wise enough and be granted by the council to become a Master myself. Which means on instances where Master Obi-Wan wonât be able to meet you for lessons or training, he might ask me to fill in,â he teased, unable to hold back the steady chuckle from his chest at the mere thought or the look on your face that could only resemble both embarrassment and slight frustrations.Â
âAnakin.âÂ
âIt would be quite a sight, wouldnât it. Me, Master Skywalker, with you, Padawan Y/L/N,â he shook his head, humming in satisfaction, âNow, that is something that would be fun.âÂ
âFirst of all, you know thatâs not plausible because Master would not ask someone else to train me in his absence, and second of all,â you paused, turning more towards him and leaning close enough that his eyes flickered across your features in interest, a look of playfulness of your own forming, âI hate you.âÂ
âNo, you donât.â His tongue clicked along the inside of his cheek, a look of satisfaction forming enough for you to bow your head to peer back at the page you had reread at least twice already before he had interrupted you.
There were two seconds where you were able to find your initial place when, âSo, are we getting out of here or what? I mean shit.âÂ
You sighed then eyes finding his again but yours suddenly resembling a gentle glare.Â
âWe have a half-an-hour. Letâs go do something fun.âÂ
âYou mean something that would get us into trouble,â you corrected, unable to stop the urge to do as he says. To close that book and leave it on that table just to follow him wherever he asked.Â
âNot exactly. Is that what I was referring to?âÂ
You chuckled dryly, âThey are one and the same, Anakin. Besides, you see me every waking moment of every day as well as at night. Arenât you able to separate from me for at least thirty minutes so I can read at least two chapters?âÂ
âTwo chapters on the molecular configurations of the force. Seriously, this over hanging out with me? Really? I can say that doesnât sound that fucking appealing. Plus, youâre wrong. I havenât spent every waking moment with you because I didnât see you last night. Or the night before.â
âI was sleeping,â you replied quickly, it sounding completely and utterly false the second it fell from your parted lips. Lips that had suddenly seemed to have Anakinâs attention. It made you shift within your seat, unsure if what you were seeing was actually real.Â
He chuckled again, his tongue poking within the inside of his cheek, his jaw tightening slightly as matched your stare, âAnd now youâre just lying. Iâm sorry, my lady, but itâs not quite a good look on you, so Iâm afraid I am going to have to apprehend you from this boring ass library and take you with me.â
You couldnât help but stare at him then, a smile forming on your lips, unable to hide any of it as he stood from the chair. A cocky grin accompanied that young handsome face of his as he barely glanced away from your form to close the book with a small thud.Â
âYouâre ridiculous you know that.âÂ
âNo, Iâm just better than you,â he said then, that smirk never ceasing as his stare once again flickered down to your parted lips smiling for him nevertheless, âNow, come on, Iâll make your time somewhat useful, and show you how to do my backspin with the lightsabers. Maybe, then you can get used to the idea of Master Skywalker.âÂ
You didnât have any more grievances then, only able to stand and follow him through the library, somehow at a loss of how something that felt like this could be so wrong in the eyes of the people who were deemed good.
âYouâve been doing very well, Y/N. Everything that a young apprentice should be,â Master Obi-Wan complimented, glancing at you briefly from the corner of his eye as he continued walking ahead with his hands clasped behind his back.Â
âThank you, Master,â you responded, voice a mere mumble as you stared forward at the Templeâs garden before you, seeming to be one of the few things that remained untouched by the city.Â
It was fresh, luminous, shades of bright green with looming trees and large bushes, many decorated with the most beautiful flowers and arches. It was something you had been desperately needing, some fresh air, some wisdom from the older Jedi, having been nothing but stuck in your head for most of the day, which appeared like most days.Â
Anakin had done what he had promised and spent all of his thirty minutes of free time before training, showing you how to successfully engage in his backspin, unable to keep the Master Skywalker jokes to a minimum. Though you had only landed the move twice, you couldnât help the way your face ached from the smile that never dared to disappear at the sight of him.Â
It was something Obi-Wan had noticed as he had watched from the hallway for a few minutes before entering for the training session. He was taken aback at first â at that look upon your face, the smiles, the lingering stares, the soft touches Anakin always engaged in first. It seemed he had been a little blind himself those past few months, lost in the bliss of his two Padawans finally getting along because perhaps it was more than he realized, more than a sense of camaraderie, more than just a bond among Jedi.Â
He could see trouble looming â looming over his trusted apprentices, over the closest thing that had resembled a son, the chosen one. It was the same trouble that seemed to be mirroring your face then. As if the solemness had returned upon the young Skywalkerâs absence.Â
âYou are quiet,â Obi-Wan observed, stopping at the fountain near the middle of the garden.Â
You hadnât even realized you had walked that far.
âIâm sorry?â you asked, seeming to not have heard him the first time.Â
âYouâre quiet, my Padawan.âÂ
You bowed your head slightly in shame that you had found your mind drifting, so much so you were unable to listen to Obi-Wan for more than a few minutes.Â
âYouâre deep in thought. Pondering such things I cannot know, so speak.âÂ
âIâm afraid that I am behind in my training,â you admitted then, the very thing you had been admitting to Anakin over and over again deep into the night.Â
âBehind? I would say you are advancing quite well. Just as I would expect you to be.âÂ
âBut not fast enough to be ready in time for the trials.âÂ
At your confession, Obi-Wan fully turned to face you then, no longer content at staring at the foliage around the two of you but instead the worry that elapsed across your soft features. âThe trials? You wish to participate in the trials this year?âÂ
âYes, Master.âÂ
âY/N, that has never been done before, do you understand that? Padawans require years of training to ever reach the mental and physical competence to become a Jedi. You are lucky the council granted our ask for you to become a Padawan at all. It has never been done to even accept someone at your age.â
âI understand, itâs justââÂ
âItâs just Anakin,â he cut you off, the name falling freely then from Obi-Wanâs lips, and it was enough to stun you momentarily.Â
âAnakin?â you asked confusion showing.Â
âI see how close the two of you have gotten. There is a connection there between two Padawans I have yet to see, maybe ever. Far different than I can say your father and I were. It would be hard, I know, to imagine him passing the trials, possibly leaving to engage in war, or traveling to protect those that require him.âÂ
âMaster IâŚâÂ
âItâs a connection I hope I havenât mistaken for fondness. I would hope your feelings wouldnât cloud your judgment or even his. He is the chosen one with a responsibility to end this war. You know better. I have taught you. Jedi shall not know love,â he lectured, each and every word diminishing every confidence you had had before, every thoughtful task that didnât have anything to do with the chosen one.Â
You smiled awkwardly then, suddenly feeling as if you were being looked at under a microscope at risk of being accused of distracting the very Jedi that this war depends on. âI can assure you, Master, that love is not a word to use here. Not even close. This isnât about him, sir. He has been a comfort, I will not deny that, but to assume I would ask of this because of him isâŚâÂ
The truth was you hadnât thought much about that, last night when you lay awake. It had been a passing thought, one you couldnât focus on â the inevitable that would certainly lead to the two of you apart one way or another with a certain strain on this newfound connection you were still trying to explain.Â
âWhat is it then, Y/N?â he asked, a single brow raised, certainly surprised by my recollection of his words and your choice of response.Â
âItâs just I canât fathom the thought, the thought of wasting away most of my twenties being an apprentice, this young Padawan who has yet to accomplish anything. I want to be able to be active, make a change, have a voice, and teach. I was made and brought up to be a queen. I canât possibly let that be a waste.âÂ
He tutted softly as if thinking, as if wondering just how exactly to advise to bring about a lesson to our words. You werenât sure if he completely believed you or if he could ever see past the evident connection you and Anakin had formed, whatever it may be, but you couldnât also deny the small ache that had been lingering almost in the wake of where that anger and grief used to gather.Â
âIt would not be a waste, my young princess,â Obi-Wan said, the title you hadnât heard in so long, hurting even worse, âYou see, itâs not about when you do it; when you teach, make changes, become this unstoppable figure the rest of the senate and council will listen to. Itâs not about when but that you just do. Being young wonât make you any more respectable than if you accomplished any of it at my age or even older.â
You couldnât look away, especially as the kindness and deliberation were seen through his eyes. There was such a care you hadnât expected from him, not yet, at least not like this. And yet he also had the ability to disappoint you completely as he sighed, the worst admission granting your ears, âBut with that being said, I donât think you will be ready for the trials. I can try my best to teach you everything I know, but I would advise you to wait.
Itâs a connection I hope I havenât mistaken for fondness. I would hope your feelings wouldnât cloud your judgment or even his. He is the chosen one with a responsibility to end this war.
Jedi shall not know love.Â
You hated it. You hated how Obi-Wan could even assume that of you. To love Anakin? It seemed impossible. It had only been months. Some of which were unpleasant. The others, you were still very well trying to wrap your head around. Then most of all to assume you would want to participate in the trials to remain close to him. How could he even think all of that? That when you hadnât even the ability to confirm if there was a connection that was more than what either of you had been told.Â
You had tried, retired to the library so many times. Just hoping you could find anything on the Stars of Lââme. Anything that could explain the story, the myth, the possible scientific evidence to its existence, but to no avail, you came up short-handed because how could the Temple have anything that could even allude to love. It wouldnât.Â
Enough so you were left in your chambers staring up at the ceiling once again, unable to sleep, unable to even shut your mind off long enough to succumb to darkness. It would be far too kind to you then, far too inviting. You needed it based on the dark circles that were starting to appear. It had to have been past midnight, sure to be even two but you couldnât know for sure as you were completely unable to move or look anywhere else but the paneling of the ceiling.Â
That is until a knock sounded on your door. It was soft but loud enough to rip through the silence and your solid gaze. Sitting up slowly, you found yourself unable to move from the confines as if needing to know you werenât hearing things. A second passed, and then two before the knock sounded again. This time slightly louder. Sliding from the bed, you walked across the room to the front door, unable to deny how cold the floor felt along your bare feet.Â
You pulled the door open without so much as another thought, and it opened with a small hiss, the compressions releasing from how they were locked. Dim lights streamed in from the hallway, and you had to blink a couple of times for your eyes to adjust, and as they did, you exhaled, almost expecting it.Â
Anakin peered up at the sound of the door, and his smile faltered for a moment at the sight of you. Whatever he was going to say seemed suddenly lost and rather replaced by the way his lips parted with ease, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, no longer meeting your own. It was then that you realized you hadnât grabbed a robe to pull on over your night dress before answering the door. As if you were too desperate that you had to eliminate the barrier between the two of you.Â
It seemed he hadnât been expecting it either with the way he traced the cream silk with ease, voice lost, even more so as they rose to meet where the dress dipped a little too low upon your chest. It was the first time he had ever seen you in a dress, or something that was less than the robes or training shirts you often wore. Even on nights where the two of you were sat in the windowsill, a long robe, usually one of his old ones covered the rest of you from not only the coldness of the empty hallways but his stare as well.Â
Dipping even lower, they traced how the material hugged your waist, sinching slightly to the way it draped off your hips. Your bare legs were smooth, even with the minimal light he had in the hallway. He knew there was no mistaking any of it, though, even the initial dip within the valley of your breasts.Â
He appeared in loose pants and a long tunic, no robe, but still dressed as you usually found him, and there was no denying how it always made you feel. Clearing your throat, those blue eyes snapped up to meet yours, and the way a light dust of pink had appeared along the apples of your cheeks.Â
âYouâre awake,â he surveyed.Â
âYes,â you admitted with ease, knowing there was no point in lying as he would know.Â
âYouâre awake,â he repeated, eyes tracing the expanse of your neck and the way your hair framed your face, âAnd youâre not at the window.â
âAnakin,â you protested but he wouldnât let you get a word in as his moment of stuntedness seemed to fade quickly, âThat makes night number three. Looks like you could be avoiding me.â
âIâve been trying to get some sleep. Itâs been days, you know since Iâve had any.âÂ
He hummed, no longer ashamed in the way his eyes raked your form, unable to really ignore the way his body was so willing to react to yours, âYouâve been awake for at least an hour. Usually, it wonât take you that long to fall asleep if youâre really willing to try, and I waited at least twenty minutes to see if you would before coming to your door.â
He knew that he had you. You knew that he had you. So much so that you signed almost in defeat, arms crossing over your chest without even thinking much of it. âOkay, so what do you want?âÂ
His eyes flickered down but only for a second, perhaps half of one, before meeting your gaze once more, that charming look about him forming again. He smiled, âI want you to grab a robe. Thereâs something Iâve been wanting to show you.â
âItâs late,â you surveyed, peeking slightly around him to peer into the dark hallway void of anyone else.Â
âAnd?â he asked, raising a brow as he sarcastically replied, âItâs never stopped you before.â
You huffed loudly then, knowing there was no way for you to convince him to turn, leave your doorway, and retire to his own room for the rest of the night. He was there, and he knew what he wanted, which was for you to follow him out into the dark corridors. To anyone else, it was almost him asking for trouble, but you could never deny someone as painstakingly handsome as him, especially if it meant you got a few extra hours where his attention belonged to you and you alone.Â
It was something you come to find you were jealous of and wish to have more of â his eyes, his attention, his looming voice. You wanted it all.Â
âFine,â you mumbled, turning on your heels quickly to walk over to where the robe you had been wearing earlier in the evening while you were getting ready hung up behind another door. It happened to be one of Anakinâs old ones; it was too small to fit him now.Â
You took it quickly and slipped it around your shivering frame, and as you turned, you found Anakin poking his head in through the wide-open door, eyes suddenly transfixed on the room as he tried to take it all in. It was a room he had never been in, this place that was yours.
You couldnât help but smile at the thought. Smile as you followed him out into the dark corridors, knowing then, and always you would probably do whatever he asked of you.
âWhere are we going?â you asked, trying to keep up with his long strides, almost inclined to reach out for his hand.Â
Anakin looked over at you, smirking lightly, âWhy would I tell you? Youâve been ignoring me for a few nights now. Itâs more fun watching you squirm.â
âRight, of course, it is.âÂ
Noticing the small worry line that appeared between your eyebrows, he couldnât help but laugh down at you, unable to keep from bumping his shoulder into yours, âRelax, will you? Itâs nothing serious. I think youâll like it, actually.â
With that, a silence lingered, setting it between the two of you. You werenât sure of what else to say, or if there was anything else to say, so you merely followed him as he led you further and further into the temple, away from your chambers and the emptiness that was your bed. There was no comfort to you then with your silent thoughts other than the gentle brush of his fingers along the back of your palm every once in a while as you walked. The first time it happened, surprising you to the point of looking over at him to find him still staring forward as if he hadnât felt it at all, and maybe he hadnât.Â
It was at least a three-minute walk until his steps had slowed down, making their way through the darkness with you slightly behind. Rounding the corner of an empty hallway in the East Wing of the temple, he continued down it until he stopped about three-quarters of the way until he was in front of a large metal door. It towered over him slightly but not by much. Reaching forward to the keypad, he glanced at you over his shoulder quickly, a small smile of his forming at the sight of you peering up at him in anticipation.Â
He chuckled, the sound gracing your ears as he input the code, followed by the pound key, which let out a short-lived beep matching the green light that flashed as the door decompressionized. A small hiss sounded from the steam, and you felt your pulse spike. This room was on higher lockdown than most, you realized. One you hadnât ever been in, and if you hadnât ever been, maybe you shouldnât be.Â
If it were any other time, you would have stopped him and asked if you should be doing this, but you couldnât care. Not when Obi-Wan had accused you of going against the code as well as not being a good enough Jedi to participate in the trials. You were tired of doing what was expected of you over the past six months, not when you felt so much more with Anakin, even if it was as simple as sneaking off at night.Â
Stepping past the threshold of the door, you were once again confined into darkness, having quickly lost Anakin as his footsteps echoed further into the vast room. âAnakin?âÂ
âJust turning on the lights,â he answered smugly as the door closed behind you, locking once the door had snuggly sat within the doorway.Â
It was cold, and the first thing you noticed among your bare legs was the floor, surely metal panels underneath your shoes. The room was completely void of any windows, and it wasnât until you heard the click of a switch before golden light pooled from the ceilings that you knew where Anakin was. As the beams appeared, you blinked for a moment, adjusting to the new soft light; it dimmed slightly but still enough for you to find Anakin just a few feet away by the light switch.Â
He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, taking you in as you suddenly began to look around the room. It was larger than you would have expected and dull, with boring walls and cold floors. Dull all but for the many things that seemed coated around the room, some nestled into piles, others left alone. A room you truly had never been in, and you knew then why. It was a room for the children, the younglings, the Jedi who are so young they havenât even fully comprehended the loss of being separated from their parents. So much so that this room basically served as a fun park while they adjusted to their new environment as well as their training.Â
There were beams, large mats, a pit with foam blocks in it, various lightsaber training sticks, and rubber balls â all bright colors seeming to bring life into the faded room. Â Â Then right in the middle, a part of the tiled floor was removed and replaced with a rectangular mesh, almost thin pool. You had never seen something like it before, and you couldnât help but look over at Anakin in confusion. Confusion of why, out of all of the places in the temple, he had brought you here, a place sanctioned for Jedi that was no more than ten-years-old.Â
âItâs for the younglings,â he spoke then, pushing himself off from the wall, his voice echoing slightly in the empty room. âCreated to help ease the transition. They are taken away from all that they know; their families, their friends, some young but not young enough to have forgotten. They are still children, even more so, still capable of remembering what having fun was like.âÂ
Pushing another light switch, another set came on around the mesh fabric, a bright blue that reminded you of the color of your lightsaber â it was neon, glowing, calling you to follow Anakin as he stepped closer to it. âThis was my favorite place to be.âÂ
You listened intently as he then kicked off his shoes, being left in socks, and stepped forward onto the mesh floor. You were holding your breath then as it dipped, almost seeming to absorb his weight, and slingshotting back up to create a small bounce under his feet.Â
âAnd this, well letâs just say it took Master hours to get me to leave.âÂ
âWhat is it?â you asked walking close enough to where his shoes were left.Â
Moving from the center of the mesh floor, he approached the edge, sticking out a single hand for you to take, âItâs used for the younglings when they are first beginning to learn to levitate, flip, stuff like that.âÂ
Slipping your own shoes off, you took his hand and stepped forward onto the bendable floor. You stared down, curious of the way it dipped under your weight, bent, feeling as if you were floating in mid-air with no solid ground under your feet. Anakin was laughing, you knew that much, entertained by the kid-like wonder that was appearing across your face.Â
With his hand still wrapped around yours, you looked up at him, a brow raised and a small smile forming along your own lips, âNow what?âÂ
âAnd now we jump!âÂ
Before you knew it, he had his other hand wrapped around yours as he jumped up into the air, bringing you with him. Your lips fell open in shock as you came back down, only to bounce back up higher than you would have been able to do on your own. A laugh escaped, it sounding so carefree and natural that Anakin couldnât help but laugh too. The sound is enough to make your chest flutter.Â
You found the more you jumped, the higher you went, enough to create excitement, goosebumps to appear, and this lightness to flush your whole body. One you really hadnât felt in years, like suddenly all of the weight you had been struggling with, compressing you into someone else entirely, was temporarily gone. All you could feel was the air shifting around you and how inevitably right it all was. How, even after nights of ignoring Anakin, it always would feel right.Â
And how perhaps Obi-Wan had been onto something.
It plagued your mind over the next thirty minutes with the two of you spent jumping, Anakin going as far as to do flips and different tricks he had first learned when he was nine and transferred into his training with force and levitation. You could only watch in awe with the most pure smile on your face â the world seeming to be at a standstill for just a little while.Â
So much so that by the time hours had passed, the two of you were lying down on the trampoline, letting the fabric leave imprints on the back of your legs and arms. You were tired. He was able to see it in your eyes but neither of you could even fathom leaving yet, not when you both were smiling the way you were at ease finally.Â
You were lying on your side, head balancing along the inside of your palm, facing Anakin, fully engaged in the questions he asked about Bakura â about what your favorite place was, how it was able to succeed within the capital, the political tendencies of your people. He found himself asking question after question, completely sucked into getting to know as much as possible, all because it was you. Bakura, even when it was gone, no longer levitating within space, spinning with life upon it, it was still you; in every way.Â
âSo when you were to become queen, in simpler terms, you would have become a politician?â The question was so innocent, but you felt the grumble around the sole word. Anakin was facing you, his leg bumping yours, his body mirroring yours in the way he leaned his head against his palm, a mere few inches separating you two.Â
You knew how he felt about them; politicians, senators, the whole lot. He found the majority of them corrupt, even those who had established the Republic up from the ground. How could he not? He felt politics were void of anything he valued, most of all including compassion. There was no surprise when he began asking questions about your own system, a Monarchy, which in itself was just another way to rule other than the Democracy he had grown up within.Â
âA ruler,â you corrected.Â
âI find them to be the same. Though we live in a Democracy, we are ruled by politicians; indirectly, they decide how things will run, corroborate what citizens should believe or not believe, and then, with support, are able to put those things into power.âÂ
âMaybe they are similar, but they are not the same, not really. I would have been a queen, yes, a single ruler, but it would have been more than just a title. I would have made sure of it. There is a council, you know, one like the Jedi Order or the Senate, where the royal family can lean on and have support while making decisions. I would have trusted them to help me lead, and I would have listened to those who wished to be heard and make changes within the council ship and the city,â you explained, the thoughts coming with ease as you imagined what your life surely could have been like had Bakura remained untouched, âI would have made things the way they were supposed to be.âÂ
He didnât say anything at first, too lost in the way you looked, that hopeful glint in your eyes diminishing quickly at the reality that set in, the loss of your power, your ability to invoke change. He could only admire you as you talked, passionately wishing to change the world.Â
There was a pause before he decided to reply with a light chuckle laced within his words. âThatâs something a politician would say.â
âAnd so what?â you countered, pushing him back lightly enough that he almost fell back onto the trampoline, âWhat is so wrong with that? It was what I was made to become. I would have been great at it, you know. Being queen.â
âIs that what you wanted, though?â he asked then, laughter falling away to a serious ask. He was closer now, only a few inches or so apart, close enough you were able to see the different blues that appeared in his eyes and the gentle lines around the corners of his lips.Â
âIâm not sure what I wanted then. I wasnât really ever asked because thatâs what I would be made to be.â
He hummed then, eyes flickering down to the annoyed frown that appeared across your lips, somehow mirroring the flash of frustrations that reflected in your eyes. âAnd what about a king?â
âA king?â you repeated, his question taking you by surprise, to which he nodded, proving that he was indeed serious. You couldnât help but laugh out loud at the thought, âYes, well, there would have been a king. Iâm sure some Lord or politician you wouldnât like very much would have been chosen.âÂ
You expected him to laugh or smile, perhaps smirk at the way you teased him, but he didnât. His only response was a furrow of his brows. âChosen? You mean like arranged?â
âYes.âÂ
âBut your parentsââÂ
âMy parents were an exception,â you said almost solemnly as if you were reliving your previous life, just how much it resembled a sort of prisoner rather than a ruler, âMy father was wise, a Jedi, who left the Jedi Council for my mother. He was different, and a kingdom canât rely on random men to be great rulers. Thatâs how royal families are destroyed, and cities fall.âÂ
There was a pause on his end, a slight inhale as his eyes began to swirl with even more questions and uncertainty at the reality of your previous life. He couldnât help but swing his legs around and sit up, stare never wavering as a certain edge appeared in his voice then, âThat day, when I⌠were you arranged to be married?âÂ
You shook your head, âNo. My mother hadnât quite found anyone yet. I would imagine him, though, you know, make him up in my head and try to make it seem less awful than it really was.â
âWhat was he like?â
You laughed suddenly confused by his ask, âWhat?âÂ
âThe king? Your king?â he clarified, and at that, you couldnât help but bow your head, a blush forming along the apples of your cheeks, suddenly feeling embarrassed by it.Â
âAnakin,â you protested but didnât get very far as he sent you a narrowed look, his hand flicking at the back of yours with annoyance. âFine.âÂ
You took a moment, to inhale, to breathe, and remember to six months before. To when you hadnât known him, Anakin Skywalker. To when you were just the princess of Bakura, not a Jedi, a woman able to be open to love, but only the love chosen for you. It was enough to have you make up a man, the perfect man, to whom you thought about day and night for almost two years with the hope he would end the torment that would be an arranged marriage.Â
âI thought of him as tall with dark curls. Light eyes that could capture my soul, it seemed, and this certain look, a soft smile about him where he seemed to always be in favor of teasing me. He would be strong-willed and willing to hold power, but not so much that he would overshadow what I thought. And also passionate, know what itâs like to feel and accept the fact,â you explained then, unable to face him or look him in the eyes as you couldnât help but recount just what you had always wanted.
It somehow matched the young Padawan who had gone on to rescue you the day that Bakura was burning and the Jedi before you then. How had that happened? How had it been so perfect, so true, as if the stars themselves had sent him?Â
Anakin felt his chest tighten, at each and every word you whispered with uncertainty as if afraid. He knew, though, he could see you were telling the truth, by the mere quiver in your lip to the way you thought carefully with a crinkle in between your brows that this wasnât something you were saying on the spot but rather what you had always thought and believed. He wanted to take your hand in his or do something to get you to look at him, to acknowledge how it all sounded then. Because he couldnât deny the similarities, the way it felt as if you had been describing him, recounting each thing about him other than the physicalities.Â
A Jedi shall not know love.Â
He couldnât though. He knew he couldnât.
âAnd I supposeâŚâ he trailed, pausing to watch the way your eyes flickered up to meet his again, anticipating what he was going to say next. He smirked, unable to stop himself as he said, âHe would believe in the politics of a dictatorship. Support the act of one ruler.âÂ
You stared over at him, watching as his expression shifted, a light filling his irises and the corners of his lips lifting into a smile as a laugh escaped. âYouâre making fun of me.â
âNo, Iâd be much too frightened to tease a princess.âÂ
At the title, the only title you had wished for him to never call you again, brought about another feeling then, one of what could only be described as warmth. One that had a small blush appearing on your face but also a need to shove him over. He could only laugh though at the sight of your embarrassment, at the way you could fold under his teasing, his touch as he reached forward to take both your wrists in his hands.
Before you could gain your footing, he had pulled you up from where you were sitting, both his arms looping around your lower back, still laughing, head dipped back slightly as he stood upon the trampoline.
âAnakin,â you warned, trying to squirm out of his grip.Â
It only tightened then, your feet hanging mid-air as he began to jump up on the trampoline, somehow still able to go just as high with you in his arms as he had been by himself. You were half-laughing but also half-yelling, arms suddenly around his neck as you glanced down to the ground each time you were up in the air. As he got really high one time, he pretended to let you slip from his arms, enough to get a small squeal to escape, only making him laugh harder.Â
âAnakin, stop, donât do that,â you scolded, though the fall would be low, âThat's not funny .âÂ
He didnât listen, though as the next jump up, he went to do it again, but this time, he had really lost his grip on the back of you. You began to slip enough that your stomach dropped slightly. Noticing this, he tried to take hold of you again but fumbled quickly, and before you had even realized it, Anakin was on his back on the mesh floor with you harshly falling on top of him.Â
An exhale was pulled from his chest at the impact, and you felt your torso ache with the collision of his own. He swore under his breath, his laughter falling short, as he grumbled, head relaxing back against the fabric. With one leg wrapped around one of his and the other thrown over his thigh, you leaned over him on your elbows, torso almost flush against his, lower body slightly straddling his.Â
âAnakin,â with wide eyes and a nervous lilt in your voice, you couldnât help but remain unmoving, trying to hold as much of your weight off of him, âAni, are you alright?âÂ
His chest tightened, stiffening at the sound of the nickname, one that was all too familiar but just not from you. He relaxed quickly though somehow liking the way it sounded from your tongue. Then he was opening one eye up towards you and then another, trying to hold back his smile as long as he could, but upon noticing the way you were chewing on your lower lip in worry, he couldnât help but burst out laughing, his facade diminishing quickly.Â
At the sound, you knew he was fine, probably had been the whole time, and you couldnât help but also start laughing but not without punching him lightly in the shoulder. He didnât seem to care not as his arms came up to rest along your hips, hands along your back, his head a few inches from your own, unable to do anything but listen to the way your laughter sounded. The way it had never sounded like that before ever. He wanted it to last for as long as possible, just as the feeling of you sitting upon his body. He couldnât help though to suddenly roll, you falling back onto the trampoline bouncing slightly as he hovered over you.Â
A breath slipped, a steady, almost whimper as the weight of his body sunk into yours comfortably, his legs parting yours with ease. Your laughter faded, a mere giggle, and then to nothing. He followed, too, until suddenly it was silent, all but the steadiness of your breathing. He was warm, so warm, strong, his body firm against your own that it had a new feeling pooling at the base of your stomach. One you had been ignoring since you had first laid your eyes on him. But it proved difficult then as his blue irises bore down into yours, his lips glistening where he had wet them with his tongue within the blue neon lights of the room.Â
Your eyes flickered down to them with ease, but it didnât last long, not as you both lifted your heads at the sound of the door decompressing at the sound of the correct code being put in. Then it was opening and you both could only lay there as the figure of your Master Obi-Wan appeared. He was reaching for his lightsaber, dressed in robes he always wore to bed, sleep still cascaded in his eyes. A look of confusion that was quickly doused and replaced with a furrow and a frown at the sight before him.
You watched as Anakin lifted one hand from where it initially was pressed alongside your head, a sheepish smile appearing across his lips as he waved. âHi, Master.â
#anakin skywalker#anakin x reader#star wars anakin#anakin fanfiction#anakin skywalker x reader#Star Wars imagine#star wars fanfiction#anakin series#hayden christensen#hayden christensen x reader#divider by cafekitsune#banner by cafekitsune
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In thinking about the new information we've recently learned about the gods of Exandria, I started thinking about epic fantasy novels. The thing is, Exandria's deity lore is not actually terribly unique. This isn't a bad thing! But the idea of an idyllic age when gods were not just powerful but present and united; the fall of one (or many) gods and an ensuing devastation this causes; and the gods subsequently withdrawing or diminishing is a very, very common one in fantasy (and, to be totally honest, world religion). Similarly, the idea of a much more advanced age that has since passed into distant memory is also an extremely common trope. I think it's less common to have both of these tropes working in tandem though certainly not unheard of (hello, Wheel of Time), and the nature of the storytelling method in effect here means that the fallen advanced civilization is more thoroughly developed in the worldbuilding than it is in many other stories, but none of this is a wildly new concept.
I want to talk about genre, medium, and actual play, which is sort of both and sort of neither. I think people talking about actual play tend to mash all three of these things together when they really shouldn't.
(this is a long one so it's under a cut to not wreck your dash)
The genre of Critical Role's main campaigns is heroic fantasy, which I know I've covered in the past, and of epic scale. This is honestly pretty typical of D&D. NADDPod (especially Bahumia) and TAZ Balance and Graduation are also arguably within this same broad genre, just more comedic and looser with aspects of the worldbuilding.
Despite the fact that Brennan is very well-versed in fantasy novels, D20's main deal is that it's not classic heroic fantasy. I think this is actually a bigger factor in why people prefer CR to D20 than many people think. The shorter length is definitely another factor (though that too feels almost related - the critically acclaimed indie comic run to Critical Role's series of doorstopper novels) but Dimension 20, while it comments on classic heroic fantasy with Fantasy High and Escape from the Bloodkeep, only ever dips into anything actually approaching that genre with the Game of Thrones-inspired low fantasy seasons and, funnily enough, with the Dungeons and Drag Queens miniseries. Otherwise, it's telling school stories, urban fantasy, space operas, heists, murder mysteries, comedies of manners, and action-adventure. Similarly, TAZ Steeplechase and Amnesty very much aren't of this genre. Critical Role meanwhile touches on supernatural horror with Candela Obscura.
Actual Play is a means of telling a story, and typically the system at least puts in place the general expectations of what can be done within the improv. Some systems (such as Candela Obscura or Blades in the Dark) set a particular genre; others, like D&D, favor one but permit a good degree of flexibility. Actual Play is not really the same as genre, as discussed above; D20 genre hops quite readily, as does The Adventure Zone, even while using the same TTRPG systems.
Finally, there's medium. This one is easy. Critical Role and D20 are filmed shows (though are available as podcasts); so is, to give a non-Actual Play example, The Bear. NADDPod and TAZ are podcasts. So are (for example) The Silt Verses and Midst.
The reason I've outlined all of the above is to say that I think people tend to assume simply being actual play is somehow closer than sharing genre. This is also to an extent true for longform fiction podcasts (though it is less true for TV and books). I think this has led to an influx of fans of actual play (and, tbh, podcasts) who aren't familiar with the genres within which actual play shows are working.
I do not say this to gatekeep (though honestly, gatekeeping is both not inherently bad and also, not possible in this context). It's more of an exploration of what I think may be a reason why, particularly in the Critical Role fandom, it feels some of the Campaign 3 opinions feel somewhat half-baked.
You can be a fan of heroic fantasy and enjoy actual play but not actually be terribly into actual play that isn't heroic fantasy. I think some people who loved Critical Role Campaign 1 but nothing after that and no other actual play fit into that category. I think Campaign 1's fandom was, indeed, heavily skewed towards fans of fantasy and fans of D&D (as a venue to roleplay one's own fantasy story and as a game itself heavily shaped by heroic fantasy fiction) more so than anything else. If you like, say, The Kingkiller Chronicles or the Stormlight Archives or the Wheel of Time or Lord of the Rings? You might like Critical Role.
By 2018, and definitely by 2019-2020, the landscape had changed, and the attitude was much more one of "if you like this actual play, you'll like this one" which is actually...nowhere near as true, in my mind, as recommendations based on genre. I think this is also when people started folding in "longform speculative fiction podcasts in general" which to be honest was already an issue with the medium of longform fiction podcasts. Wolf 359, The Silt Verses, Midst, The Penumbra Podcast, and any season of NADDPod are all longform, plot-based speculative fiction podcasts with queer representation, but that doesn't actually mean someone who likes one will like another. (Also? Queer rep? Gets treated like podcasts or actual play, to be honest. It's extremely possible to love only one of The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, Stars in My Pocket Like Grains of Sand, The Woods All Black, and The Priory of the Orange Tree despite all of these being novels with queer relationships, yet a lot of the time Queer Rep is treated as a genre, an "if you like this, you'll like that!")
I think it is true that there are people who enjoy actual play on a fairly general level (myself included), and with podcasts especially I think there are people who enjoy fiction delivered in this manner and people who have some difficulty with it. But I think there's a tendency to push people who like one actual play towards other actual play when they may be more interested in longform audio fiction, scripted or not; or might be inclined towards a particular genre. To go back to the examples I've given, someone who likes Candela Obscura might find The Silt Verses and The Woods All Black more appealing than, for example, Fantasy High, despite that also being filmed actual play, because the latter two are also supernatural horror with exploration of class.
Because actual play, in its weird not a medium, not a genre, but kind of both space is, well, in between spaces, it gets treated as the most specific element of works of fiction when that's not always true. The consequences, therefore, end up being twofold. You get people who come to AP series because they liked another one that doesn't actually have a ton in common, and it ends up hit or miss (this is one of my theories why the D20 fandom can be extremely weird about Critical Role; because it was pushed on them when it's really not what they're into, which is neither their nor CR's fault); and you get people coming to specific actual plays and enjoying them without much familiarity with their genres, which I think is behind some of the weirder C3 takes since C3 is arguably the first campaign that truly began after Actual Play began to be treated as a genre.
#anyway the whole point of this is that you need to be more specific with your recommendations#and also read more fantasy novels if you are into cr#long post#cr tag
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Transformation Letter: Charlie
Hi my name is Charlie, I would like to be transformed into any man you want. But not an object please. I am 26 yo, 170cm tall with a slim twink body. I have white skin, blue eyes and short dark hair.
You hesitate slowly before putting the envelope into the box. It is not that you are unhappy with who you are, but somehow, the thought of becoming someone else is oddly interesting to you. With a silent thud, the letter falls into the box - it's done now, and you can't retrieve it.
The shady online ad had promised that changing your body was not only possible, but really easy to do, too. All you had to do was write a letter to the company and they would care for the rest. To be honest, you don't really believe in all that. It was scientifically unlikely that anyone had developed a technology to change bodies - let alone at a distance knowing nothing more than your name. But still, you had been curious enough to try it.
So, you composed a lengthy letter, describing exactly who you are and what you want changed. That you are happy with your slim build but would like to change certain details. For example, your dark hair could be a bit more interesting. And your butt could be a bit juicier. Oh, and if they shaved one or two years off, leaving you at 22 again, that would certainly not hurt.
It's not like you are old, not even having hit 30 yet, but the gay community was somewhat superficial - picking up guys had been easier a few years ago.
You even attached a picture to your letter showing how you look right now.
What you didn't do though, is read the description of the ad thoroughly. Instead of monetary compensation, they reserved the right to choose your transformation. All the details you worked out for your change will ultimately be in vain - and you are entirely at the mercy of a faceless internet company, having unknowingly sealed a contract that grants them all rights on your physical appearance.
Of course, you know nothing of that. After having put in the letter, you head back home and fix yourself a salad before heading to bed early.
Over the course of the next few days, absolutely nothing happens and soon, you have already forgotten the strange ad and the letter you sent. You continue to live your life without knowing your letter has been dispatched, delivered and processed at its destination. Until, a good week later, suddenly, your face feels itchy. Thinking nothing you scratch at the itchy spot, but the itching returns a few moments later.
When you touch your chin again to scratch it again, your hands meet an unfamiliar feeling. There are short, bristly hairs on your chin! But that's impossible! You never grow a beard, and you distinctively remember being entirely smooth this morning. You quickly rush to the bathroom to have a look in the mirror and almost can't believe your eyes:
There is a clearly visible five o' clock shadow in your face, looking alien and ill-fitting. But it's definitely there. When you touch the short hairs again, you can feel the short hairs bend slightly to your touch. They are dark and clearly visible against your skin. This is definitely *your* stubble! You are growing a beard!
Suddenly, you remember the letter. But that can't be, can it? You certainly didn't wish for a beard! Perhaps this is some kind of side-effect?
You have a closer look at your face, searching for further changes. You notice a dirty spot on your cheek.
Has this been there a minute ago? You try to rub it off but only manage to smear it across your face. You try again, this time with water, but as you look up, you find the dark smear having spread all over your face. Even worse, when you try to wash it off, only some of it comes off. The rest of the dark muddy dirt seems to have seeped into your skin and has made it darker than before, like a tan.
You can even watch the tan spreading in the mirror. Going down your quite hairy chin onto your neck and disappearing into your shirt at the collarbone.
Quickly, you try to wriggle out of your shirt, only to find that surprisingly difficult. When you finally manage to do so, you understand why at once: Your body has bulked up considerably! Your torso that has darkened with the spreading tan and is also covered with stubbly dark hair is way more muscular than before. Your shoulders are broader, and your entire frame is... bulky to say the least. There is not much left from your original slim and twinky body. By the second, you're becoming buffer and darker. When you look back into the mirror, your face reminds you nothing of what it was! It even appears as if you have actually gained a few years, putting you at least past the mark of 30.
This is impossible! You have to stop that. You need to call the company right now!
With that thought, you rush to your laptop and try to remember the company name. Artificial something was it, right? Transformation? No, wait. Transmutation. That's it. You start entering the company name into the search engine but find it increasingly difficult to do so. You do know how to type, of course, but your hands are getting bigger and less precise. When you finally hit enter, the search engine lists the results.
Or, at least you think it does. You blink once, squint your eyes and blink again. You can clearly read the letters on the screen, but the composition makes no sense at all. It's like trying to read an entirely different language. But that can't be! English is your mother tongue, you should be able to read it clearly. Instead, you only recognize very few simple words. "and" for example, or "I".
It's no use. You have lost the ability to read English. But certainly, you can read another language? You try not to think about anything as you type a new query in the address bar of the browser.
Well, good news is that you can read the texts again when the site loads. It's clearly Spanish that you have no problem understanding. But instinctively, you have entered a porn site. Gay porn, to be precise - good. At least this hasn't changed.
Just looking at the pictures makes your cock grow in your pants. And grow. And grow. When you look down at your lap, you recognize a massive beast of burden that certainly wasn't there before, either. Curiously, you unzip your pants and are greeted by a large, throbbing, uncut cock, framed by dark curly pubic hair. Of course, in your old body you always shaved your pubic hair neatly. However, here it's ungroomed and a dark contrast to your tanned brown-ish skin. With the cock that has sprung free, you also freed a cloud of musky smell. The manly smell of unwashed groin and sweat, along with traces of piss and precum.
Without thinking, you take a deep breath and then another one. That smells good, you decide, and your throbbing cock agrees. You grab your large cock with your large hand and start a video with your left one.
As you watch the manly figures on the screen fucking each other, your quickly start to move your hand up and down your length, too. A deep, rumbling sound escapes your throat and soon, your heavy balls begin to churn. You are going to cum!
The thought makes your head spin, and you quickly aim your cock at your laptop's screen. Your mind is so overwhelmed with lust, it's not like you can even think anymore. When your first rope of cum lands on the screen, splashing all over the photos, the second shot flies even further and lands in a pool of white semen on the keyboard.
Huffing and panting, you slowly regain clarity. God damnit, you didn't really do *that*, right?
Worse enough that you snuck into your clients home and used his laptop to watch porn, no. Now your sticky cum is slowly running down the screen and dripping under the keys. There's no way youâre able to clean this up properly.
Awkwardly, you use your shirt to wipe over the laptop superficially. Still, there is a clearly visible spot of dried cum on the screen and the keys will be sticky to operate. You briefly consider cleaning the machine with water but don't want to damage it.
It's no use. You just hope your client won't notice until you are gone. On that note, you quickly make your way back into the garden, resuming your work in the heat of the summer, only clad in a short pair of shorts that accentuates your huge Mexican cock.
Gone is Charlie the twink. Your new life is Carlos, the dumb and randy Mexican gardener.
What is this? A "Transformation Letter"? Yes, you heard right! Over at my riot page, you can send transformation letters that will change your life forever. The only catch? You can't choose what you will become. Carlos here is certainly changed a lot, but not like he intended. Would you be luckier if you tried? Head over to the instructions to try your luck!
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First meeting with another ninja ally: Guardian of the Secret Garden
In addition to the gifts of the forest (which more often beat your ass than allow themselves to be collected), fortunately for the ninja, most of the necessary flora grows in the garden, which is monitored by the keeper. This is a very serious job, despite the barrier that hides its location (similar to what Plop-Plop had), sometimes the monsters manage to wander close to the gate.
But the most important part is to prevent these victims of puberty from accidentally destroying the contents of the garden (believe me, this part is much more difficult than it seems) with their ignorance. After a situation several centuries ago when one ninja cretin decided that making a âsnow angelâ in a flower bed was a âgoodâ idea, after which he received chemical burns from them all over his body, because âunexpectedlyâ they turned out to be poisonous, and in addition a elegant kick in the ass out of the gate. (Goto is still angry at Nomi and Creep for choosing someone like that for their post) From now on, Goto refuses to let the ninjas in (even though they are technically his superiors) and gives everything he needs on the way out, viciously shushing him if the impudent child tries to get through the gate, he lets him in only as an exception if he sees that the current ninja is able to control himself and not cause harm to plants around him with his mere presence. It all started when one day the First looked at his list of tasks, which included: managing the city, its protection, caring for citizens, developing poisons and medicines, daily patrols and other time-consuming duties - he sighed heavily and agreed that he should not be a gardener Plop plop: wow, he admitted that he needs more help. In total, it took almost a month to bring myself to the point of mental and physical decay, Iâll even applaud this achievement, I thought he`d be stubborn for at least another 3 months. (of course he didnât say this out loud, but EVERYTHING was clear from his face) The search for a person for this should have been quite quick, especially since recently a rather persistent candidate had loomed, who happily agreed.
Goto was born very far from Norisville, in a family of samurai, and almost all his life he was trained for this position. After coming of age 18, he took up the post, but fate was unkind because it was during this period when epidemic began to spread. Goto's hometown was ravaged and destroyed by monsters, which is why he, his sister and the rest citizens had to leave it and look for a new refuge. The long, exhausting journey was not a problem for him, but the very fact of change was difficult for him, he was too tied to his home, but he could not leave his sister, so he decided to leave with the others, feeling useless since he could not somehow prevent this situation . During their wanderings, they heard rumors about a city where lives a ninja who has healing magic, capable of turning the monster back into a human. That's where they headed, and when they almost got there, a terrible thing happened - Goto's sister fell under a curse and turned into a terrible monster and attacked her friends. Goto immediately reacted and somehow drove her into a nearby cave and prevented her from going out and killing someone. While the others rushed towards the city for help, Goto alone held it back without sparing himself, he prayed to any gods that the stories about the ninjaâs abilities were true and that it was still possible to save a dear family member, and when the ninja arrived, 3 hours had passed. Although she managed to injure Goto and others, she did not eat anyone and was eventually healed and became herself again. After the rescue and kind gesture of providing them shelter in the city, Goto wanted to somehow repay such generosity, so he took on any work, from helping in the field to construction. But he continued to feel useless and that this was not enough, (and still blamed himself for the fact that he couldn`t save their city even though it was not in his power) so he was quite⌠persistent with his offers of help (Plop-Plop did not have time to come out this +2 meter nonsense was waiting from the house as if at the porch) And when he was offered a position of a Guardian, he rejoiced as if it was his birthday. Although he is very happy and he is grateful that he was entrusted with such an important position, he is still haunted by the fear that he will let Ninja down and not live up to all hopes and expectations, although he tries not to show it.
#semisomnosres#randy cunningham 10th grade plague ninja au#rc10gpnau#rc9gn#randy cunningham fanart#randy cunningham 9th grade ninja#randy cunningham#rc9gn oc#howard weinerman#rc9gn au
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